#if you have a crush on me you gotta make it clear with no doubt - and multiple times if possible - because otherwise i will be like

[harmonictechnicality]

*wrote this for @vecnuthy's birthday, so here you go babe! i baked you a word cake 🥰🎂* *ao3 link here*

Nobody gets cool shit on their birthday after the age of sixteen - Steve stands by this statement firmly. That year, he got his permit. And by yuppie parent default-mode, he also received his first car.

He almost, almost had a quarter-life crisis on his twenty-fifth birthday. Steve was seconds away from buying a motorcycle. Robin was very dramatic about this decision, kept threatening to order his gravestone if he followed through on an impulse purchase. 

This, however, would’ve nullified his Adults Get Lame Birthday Gifts theory entirely. So Steve apologized to the salesperson, and tucked his credit card back into his wallet. Robin canceled the order on his gravestone as well, thank god.

Gifts have continued to be lackluster every year since then. And his 30th birthday is no exception to this rule.

A gift card from his parents. A pair of athletic socks from Dustin. And a t-shirt from Robin. Essentially, the starter pack of Welcome to Adulthood. 

Except for one minor detail:

The shirt from Robin is exceptionally soft. Bamboo fibers or something, he wasn’t really listening to her description. Even the color is soft. Muted red, almost pink. Everything about it is soft. Airy. 

Touchable.

Okay - that’s not an observation Steve makes upon receiving it. But it’s one that Eddie Munson will never let him forget. 

The first time it happens is a week after Steve’s birthday. The two of them hit up a bar on the outskirts of town. A place Eddie frequents a lot, occasionally dragging Steve along as his Token 9 to 5 Friend.

“Welcome to the Dirty Thirty Club, man!” Eddie crows, already diving into Steve’s atmosphere for a hug. 

“Thanks! Good to see you, Munson.” Steve chokes out, returning the massive hug with a single pat on Eddie's back.

The guy always gives the most suffocating hugs, fucking cages Steve into his arms and steals the breath of out his lungs with one squeeze. Steve has to inhale through his nose, smells the soapy steam rolling off Eddie’s skin.

Shower. Eddie just showered before meeting him here. It’s so fucking clear by the way he feels damp, smells clean.

Steve hates that he notices that. Wishes he didn’t care about Eddie’s hygiene schedule. But the scent of shower gel is addictive, breathing it in fast. Big gulps of fresh air. Lungs extending like they can capture Eddie's atmosphere and keep it there.

Okay, seriously. Steve thought his Eddie Munson Crush had been buried with the rest of his trauma back in 1993.

“Dude. This shirt is so soft, holy shit.” Eddie is rubbing his hand all over the back of Steve’s shirt, fingertips pushing into the fabric.

“Uh yeah. Sure is.”

Eddie must’ve blazed up back at his place, it’s the only reasonable explanation as to why they’re hugging for this long. Gotta be some strong shit too - strong enough to make him sound completely blissed out over a damn shirt.

He’s is humming now, both hands petting Steve’s shoulders, one on each side. Pinching the material, twisting it till it curls around his index finger.

“Gotta get me one of these bad boys.” Eddie chuckles, turns it into a playful growling sound. “Could touch this all day.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Steve does an awkward wiggle out of the embrace. He looks down at his shoes, cheeks growing warmer as he continues to take Eddie’s words entirely out of context. 

Look, the sensible part of his brain knows that Eddie is talking about the shirt. That’s it. But the insufferably needy and more prominent part of his brain wants Eddie to be talking about himself in general.

That he could touch Steve all day long - shirt or no shirt.

Right. Steve needs a splash of water on his face. Could use a splash of water on his goddamn imagination too. Dilute the delusion for christ’s sake.

It happens again about four months later. Lucas invites the whole crew over to throw a surprise party for Max’s promotion at work.

Of course, Eddie is running late - he didn’t fail senior year twice solely from his shitty GPA. But showing up late to a surprise party? That’s a new level of risky. Not everything has to be a thrill-worthy adventure. Ugh.

“Max should be getting off work right about now.” Lucas explains, peering around the living room. “So everyone should head to your designated hiding spots.”

Nobody budges, just carrying on with their conversation.

“Alright, asshats - you heard Sinclair!” Steve snaps at each of them, glares for good measure. “Find a hiding spot or get the fuck out.” He gives a quick nod to Lucas, who still looks severely stressed, eyes ready to bust out of his skull any minute.

The coach-esque threat does the job. Everyone, ducks into place, voices descending into whispers. Whispers descending into shushes as the minutes draw closer to Max’s arrival. Steve is folded up behind the couch, arms wrapped around his knees. 

There’s a small creak coming from the front door. A few people yell 'surprise.' Steve peaks to the side to see Lucas shaking his head at them.

“No, nobody move.” He instructs, voice caught between a yell and whisper. “I was just letting Eddie inside.”

Instinct takes over. Steve twists around the corner of the couch, needing to see for himself that Eddie is here. That he really came.

Clearly, he didn’t move fast enough. Although he could’ve sworn he moved so embarrassingly fast that the vertebras in his back sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies (post-milk). 

But no one is there. No Eddie. No Lucas. No one.

“What the-” Something grabs the back of Steve’s shirt, pulling at his collar. A few people start aggressively shushing him.

“Chill out, Stevie.” Eddie is right there, meeting Steve’s face with a lopsided smirk. He’s close, way too close. Still holding the collar of Steve’s shirt with one hand, stretching it out. Keeping them close.

“Just trying to check the tag,” He releases Steve just an inch or so. His voice is so hushed, the quietest Steve has ever fucking heard it. “Wanted to see where I might be able to purchase such a godly article of clothing.”

“Ever heard of a thing called boundaries?” Steve hisses, swatting a strand of Eddie’s hair out of his face.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

They haven’t talked much since that night, barely any interaction for four months. But watching Eddie lean in, angling his head lower to study the tag on Steve’s shirt, hot breath on his neck…

It resets the clock. Flips the hourglass on Steve’s feelings for him.

He’s infatuated all over again, and all it took was Eddie invading his personal space. Just like he always does.

“You’ll have to ask Robin.” Steve whispers. Tries not to flinch when Eddie smooths Steve’s shirt collar back into place. “She’s the one that bought it for me.”

“Damn. Buckley has good taste.”

“Sure does.”

No distance is created. Neither of them move away. Eddie’s eyes continue to sketch over every stitch in Steve’s shirt, every hemline. He seems hyper fixated on it, too fixated to notice Steve’s pink-ish cheeks, thank god. 

If it weren’t for the shirt, Steve would assume Eddie is checking him out, looking him up and down with a heavy gaze. Dark pupils, casted darker by the dim lighting.

“Can I?” Eddie raises a hand out to Steve’s shoulder. He pauses, lifts an eyebrow at the end of his question.

Steve’s jaw is too tight to answer or counter back with a joke about how Eddie never asks permission before popping personal bubbles. All he can do is nod a little too eagerly.

Eddie reaches into Steve’s sleeve, rubs the material from the inside. A small grin forms on his face. He looks so pleased, purely amused. That’s enough to untangle Steve’s muscles, relaxing under Eddie’s light touch. 

But that’s the other thing. He’s barely touching Steve. Every now and then, his knuckles roll over Steve’s skin. Really, that’s it, that’s all he’s doing. And god, Steve craves more.

Eventually, Eddie switches it up, pinching the material between the pads of his fingers. He scoots closer to Steve’s side to do so. 

Time feels paused. Time feels rapid. It’s going nowhere and already slipping through his grasp. All Steve can think about is placing his hand underneath Eddie’s chin, bringing his lips up to his own. Kissing him till the clock stops ticking. Till the sand stops running.

“Softest shirt ever.” Eddie gives the material a slight tug. Smiles wider.

Steve gulps. “If you say so.”

“I mean, seriously - it must be made from the glow off an angel’s halo or something, cause damn.”

“You’re a trip, Munson.” 

Steve has to keep telling himself that Eddie is obsessed with touching his clothes - he’s not thinking about taking them off of Steve. No matter how much he wants that to be the reality of the situation. 

It’s not.

They stay like this till the doorknob clicks, turns. Steve almost forgot that he was at a party, surrounded by other people. 

Immediately, all of his senses flip back into Extrovert Autopilot. Everyone jumps out, yells a combination of surprise and congratulations (because they failed to coordinate that apparently).

He stays in this zone for the rest of the party. Talkative and breezy. Charming the pants off Max’s coworkers with silly little anecdotes about her as a kid. 

Steve is damn good at hosting. It’s probably in his white-collar bloodline or some shit. Still, anytime Eddie walks by, he glitches up. Temporarily out of sync.

He doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye. Eddie ducks out early, waving broadly before slipping through the front door.

Time does that weird thing again. Feels paused and rapid all at once as he watches the door shut behind Eddie.

“You okay, man?” Lucas nudges him.

“Yeah.” The gentle gesture returns time back to normal. Brings Steve back into this moment.

“Doing just fine.”

It’s all he thinks about for weeks. Anytime there’s a lull at work or a commercial break on television, Steve drifts. Pictures Eddie is in his shirt, the one he’s so obsessed with.

At first, it’s just that. Basic. Eddie standing in front of him, wearing that muted red, almost pink, shirt. Sometimes smiling, sometimes expectant. Either way, it’s always enough to make Steve’s neck feel flushed, creeping up to his cheeks.

Gradually, it evolves into something more complex. A fantasy, almost dreamlike. He imagines Eddie running his hands all over himself, his torso, his chest. The thin material of the shirt moving and shifting under his palms. His head tipping back, lips plush and red from where he’s gritting down, biting hard. Holding back sounds.

Those images get Steve in trouble. Panting on conference calls and boners at his work desk. 

He’s alone in his apartment when it grows, branches off into darker urges. Desires. Steve glances down at the floor, can’t help but wonder what Eddie might look like down there, staring up at him. Wearing Steve’s clothes. Begging Steve to take them off. Rip them, ruin them.

“That fucking does it.” Steve scolds himself, scolds his dick too. He’s calling Eddie Munson right now - before he has time to overthink it.

His hand is trembling as he picks up the house phone, dials out the number he didn’t even know he had memorized. The trembling thing is kinda embarrassing, but it's still better than sticking it down his pants and jerking off while the Cooking Network plays reruns in the background.

Every ring feels drawn out. Stretching time like taffy. 

Eddie picks up on the fourth taffy-length ring. “Eddie here.”

“Hey, man.” His voice comes out all strained, bone-dry.

“Shit. That really you, Harrington?” 

Apparently his voice comes out unrecognizable too.

“The one and only.”

Eddie snorts loudly into the phone speaker. “Doubt that very much - seems like a common enough name.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, smartass.” Steve rubs his neck, scratching his skin. Working his way to extracting the words out of his throat. “So um… you busy tonight?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers.

“Cool. Me neither.”

There’s silence after that. Well, almost silence. Just a slight hissing sound from the phone line can be heard. Not enough sound to make things less awkward though.

Steve has no good reason to be so antsy, so wired with anxiety. They’ve been friends since metaphorical shit hit the metaphorical fan back in ‘86. So being outwardly weird around Eddie? It’s too damn fishy. 

“Is that it?” Eddie says. “Did you just want to bond over our empty schedules?” 

Of fucking course, Eddie would call Steve out on his weird bullshit. Doesn’t know subtlety if it bit him in the ass. 

Bad time to think about Eddie’s ass.

“Come over.” Steve blurts out. Needs to say something before a parade of ass-centric images start back up in his mind. “I ordered way too much takeout and there's a stack of movie rentals that I need to binge to minimize those late fees, so yeah… come over.”

No response, even the background hissing from the speaker cuts out. Maybe the phone line went dead. Or maybe Eddie hung up. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s abruptly ended a conversation, perpetually flouncing to whatever is new and shiny. Always distracted. 

“What kind of takeout?” He finally responds.

“The Greek place with the kickass tzatziki sauce.” Steve smirks, already knows the answer before Eddie can utter another word. 

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

Eddie arrives in less than an hour, actually. Knocks on Steve’s door exactly 51 minutes after Steve gets off the phone with him. It’s slightly disturbing that Steve suddenly turns into a math whiz when he’s fawning over someone.

Someone that fawns over his clothes more than him, but who gives a shit about logistics?

“Fucking starving.” Eddie says, slamming the door behind him. 

Steve smiles, motions his head toward the kitchen. “Help yourself, dude.”

The plan is so stupid. Half-baked at best: get Eddie out of his shirt (and jacket), and into Steve’s shirt instead. That’s it. That’s all Steve’s got so far.

But it’s better than nothing. So what the hell? It’s worth a shot.

He waits until Eddie has stuffed his face with a decent amount of spanakopita, fully reclining on Steve’s couch. Looks incredibly comfy, too comfy to move.

Good.

Steve grabs the strawberry sorbet from his freezer, the one Robin forced him to buy after going vegan last spring. He scoops a bowl for himself and a bowl for Eddie. Exhales the last bit of his self-respect before returning to the living room with the most boring dessert option ever.

“Here you go.” Steve says.

Eddie scrunches his nose at it. “The fuck is this?”

“Sorbet.”

“Why am I not surprised that the former rich kid prefers sorbet over ice cream?”

Steve sputters, takes the bowl back before it further offends Eddie somehow. “That’s not… I didn’t… it’s actually-”

“Deep breath, Stevie. I’m just teasing you.” Eddie yanks the bowl back, shovels a brain-freezing amount into his mouth. “Far too easy, by the way. Give me a bit of a challenge next time. Makes it more fun… for one of us, at least.”

“Fun. Sure.”

“The one of us being me.”

“Got that.”

Steve decides to take Eddie’s ‘challenge’ remark as the perfect cue to set his stupid plan into action.

Steve pretends to shift around on the couch cushion, getting situated. Does this until he ‘accidentally’ fumbles the sorbet. Spills it all over Eddie’s clothes, his distressed black shirt, his dark gray sweatpants. All of it. Makes a much bigger mess than he intended to.

Eddie jumps up. “Goddamnit, Harrington!”

“I am so sorry!” No he’s not. If anything, his apology is more smug than sincere.

“This shit is sticky as hell.” 

“Really sorry, man.” Steve hands Eddie a few stray napkins, like that’s going to make a difference.

“Don’t be. It was an accident.”

Except it wasn’t. It was one of the most juvenile tactic that Steve has ever pulled. Truly, it tops the overused movie theater-yawn tactic.

“Here - let me get you a change of clothes.” Steve offers, already heading to his bedroom. He’s walking and talking and fucking fidgeting. Suddenly paranoid that Eddie can see right through him, see all his desperation on display. Splattered everywhere like strawberry sorbet.

He turns back around for a split second. “I’ll throw those in the wash. Have them dry and ready to wear again by the time you head out.”

“Oh…” Eddie keeps patting down his clothes with a sopping napkin, barely listening. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

His acting performance is fucking dismal. Over the top. Porno-level obvious. Must be karma for all of those times he gave Robin and Eddie shit about being in an improv club. Makes a mental note to never mock their nerdy hobbies for the rest of his life.

“Well, it must be my lucky night.” Eddie calls out from the bathroom door, causing Steve to wince at the sheer volume.

“What makes you say that?”

“Bestowing the holy grail of shirts upon me? Allowing me even one hour in downy-soft paradise?” Eddie is using that tone, the one that’s boozy and savory. Borderline mean. Equally hot and annoying. “Possibly the greatest of olive branches you could’ve offered up.”

“Christ, you’re dramatic.” Which is so hypocritical after the stunt he just pulled.

The bathroom door swings open and nothing could’ve prepared Steve for how good Eddie looks in his clothes. The shirt is snug through the sleeves, loose through his chest. Makes Steve realize how differently built they are. The waistband on the athletic shorts is sitting low on his hips, maybe a size too big. If they were any bigger, they’d slip right off. Landing all tousled around his bare feet…

Okay, Steve has got to snap the fuck out of it. He rubs aggressively at his eyes. Needs soap or military-strength detergent to fucking cleanse whatever is going on with him lately. 

“We could watch something.” Steve says, even though that’s exactly what he’s already doing.

Watching.

Eddie shrugs. Leans against the wall. “We could.”

“Or… I don’t know.” Steve can’t rip his gaze away from Eddie’s arms. His pale skin looks even lighter against the reddish tones. The waves and curls of black ink look even darker. Just a splash of color has turned him into a landscape of extremes. 

“You don’t?” 

“Um…” Steve flops, flounders. Scrambling for an idea. A coherent thought. Anything. “Cards. We could play cards.”

Eddie’s forehead wrinkles, then quickly straightens back out. Nodding politely. “Sure, we can do that. If that’s what you want to do.”

Steve mumbles something about grabbing a card deck from the storage closet, although he’s pretty sure it’s unintelligible. Makes a quick escape, jogs at the weirdest tempo known to mankind. 

Flirting with a longtime friend is throwing him for a loop. Many loops actually. Theme park amount of loops. All of his usual ease and charm are being denied access. Not tall enough to ride this ride.

The closet is packed with junk, so finding a deck of cards is obnoxiously difficult. He’s tossing coats into piles and shoving shoes into corners. Between his nerves and his determination, Steve is working up a goddamn sweat.

“Need a hand in here?” Eddie’s voice startles him. Steve jolts backwards, straight into a shelf of puzzles. Tons of pieces go flying, some landing in Steve’s hair. Redecorating the fucking closet with tiny bits of colored cardboard.

Fantastic.

Eddie backs away, arms crossing into his chest. “Jesus, man. You’re freaking me out.” 

“Sorry.” Steve says. Shakes the puzzle pieces out of his hair.

“Is it the shirt?” The question sounds genuine. No jokes, no sarcasm. “Does it look that bad on me?”

“Oh.” Steve doesn’t know how to respond. The shirt looks amazing, that’s not the problem at all. It’s just… “Um, actually-”

“Look, I know I’m not a pastel heartthrob.” Eddie gestures directly to Steve before waving his arms around. He starts pacing in the tiny closet, just ranting away. “And let’s fucking face it. I’m not getting any younger, so I doubt I can pull off this slim-cut style the way I used to… but come on. It can’t be that repulsive, right?”

“Eddie.” Steve frowns. 

“Shit, that bad?” Eddie smacks a hand to the top of his hand. Grabs a fistful of his hair and looks down at the shirt, still rambling. “We’re using first names now? What’s next? Gonna bust out my full legal name? My birth certificate? Then we’ll really mean business.”

Okay, yikes. And Steve thought he was the stressed one. This is going south very, very fast. He needs to curb the self-destruction that’s happening in front of him. Just… reach out. 

“Hey.” And Steve does. Literally. He places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, sucks in some courage. He waits until Eddie makes eye contact, breathes at a less neurotic speed. Then he exhales all the courage. Turns it into honesty instead. “You look… you look good.”

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah right.”

“No, I mean it. It’s different. But in a good way.” Steve skims his nails against the fabric, drawing shapes into Eddie’s shoulder. “I like it.”

“You do?”

Steve nods. Bites down on his lip, flicks his eyes to Eddie’s mouth. “Like it on you.”

The energy between them is thick, clinging to Steve’s skin. It’s new except it’s not. Steve has felt it before. At the bar, the party, that random Thursday in 1993. He recognizes the flex and curl in his stomach as Eddie takes one step forward, then two. The feeling is familiar and strange combined. Knotted tight.

Eddie raises an eyebrow before taking another step. Like the day behind the couch. Quiet permission, one he doesn’t ask for often. Only when it means something.

Steve lets the hand on Eddie’s shoulder fall slowly. Catching the material at the bottom, tugging it forward. Prays to fucking god that’s all the permission Eddie needs.

“You were right.” Steve lets his hand drift back up, landing in the center of Eddie’s chest. Wrinkling and smoothing the fabric underneath. “It really is soft.”

Eddie’s breath hitches up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice drops lower, richer. “Could touch this all day.”

Eddie thumbs over Steve’s bottom lip, drifting into the small space between them. He places both hands on Steve's cheeks and kisses him firmly. Steve presses in deeper, breathes out through his nose so that he doesn’t have to break away. 

It’s so good, kissing like they’re teenagers behind the bleachers. So swept away in the heat and hunger that they’d be late for class. Showing up to study hall with blotchy skin and achy lips. They keep kissing just like that. Feeling, exploring. Lingering in all the areas that seem to make the other person hum or gasp.

“Steve.” Eddie whispers. His hands push up into Steve’s hair, combing it back, pulling in down with an edge. Hard enough to make Steve tilt his head, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah?” Steve replies. Barely a question, too lost in the feeling of Eddie’s lips on his neck. 

Eddie rubs his mouth over the edge of Steve’s jaw. “You’re so…” 

The sentence stops right there, never gets finished either. He nuzzles over the wet spots of skin covering Steve’s neck. Marks them all up with a gentle nip, not enough to leave bruises. Just enough to make Steve shiver.

Steve is making so many breathy noises, which should be humiliating. Pathetic for someone who’s had fucking loads of first kisses, even more makeout sessions.

But none of that really matters, his age or experience or slutty track record. Nothing counts when being kissed like this. Nothing can stop Steve from taking this moment, eating up all of the sounds and sensations. 

Fuck, he wants all of it. Wants Eddie closer somehow, on top of him, beneath him, surrounding him.

He can’t stop tugging at Eddie’s shirt, well… his shirt. No doubt that it’s stretching out, close to ripping it. Keeps pulling it anyways - dragging Eddie into him till Steve’s back is pressed up against the wall.

“Come here.” Steve curls a finger under Eddie’s chin, brings his face back up to him. Not nearly done kissing him stupid, square on the lips. His mouth is warmer now, a few degrees hotter from sucking Steve’s neck. Licks into Steve’s mouth, gets him to whine at how good it feels. 

The washing machine timer goes off, buzzing throughout the whole apartment. But Steve can’t let this end, he can’t.

Except for the buzzing won’t let up. Continuously interrupting all the delicious noises that Eddie makes whenever Steve bites over his bottom lip, gets it nice and puffy between his teeth. 

“Should we...?” Eddie smushes his nose into Steve’s before motioning to the door. 

“Yeah probably,” Steve unclaws his hand from Eddie’s waist. Kisses him once more before sliding out of reach.

As he walks down the hallway, heading into he laundry room, he hears it. Eddie’s voice, still inside the closet. Chanting the same phrase over and over again:

‘Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Holy fucking shit!’

Steve cracks a smile. Kind of hard to believe his heart is chanting the same damn phrase. So full of adrenaline, fucking crumbling under this wave of raw emotion.

Really, he never thought he’d find himself in this situation. Holding Eddie’s clean clothes in one hand, thumbing over his kiss-bitten lips with his other hand. Impatiently craving to get back to where they left off, hopefully on the couch or bed or floor this time.

“Hurry it up, will ya?” Eddie whistles behind him.

“What’s the rush?” Steve tosses the clothes into the dryer, doesn’t turn around because his self-restraint will be fucked if he does. 

“My lips are getting cold.”

“That’s the best line you got?”

“For now, yeah.” Eddie says. “You sucked out all of my brain cells with your mouth. Can’t expect me to be Swayze-level smooth after something like that.”

No way he’s allowed to be so damn cute comparing himself to Patrick Swayze. As if they're even in the same league. Endearing, really.

“You can head back to the living room. I’ll be there in a minute.” Steve pushes a few buttons on the dryer. The timer starts, another reset on the clock.

Feelings that flip the hourglass once again. 

He really fucking hopes it never runs out this time. 

Eddie is perched on the floor, flipping through the channels on the tv. He's squinting at the harsh light because for some insane reason, he always insists on watching the tv in total darkness.

Even that’s cute now. Annoyingly cute.

Steve joins him on the floor, instantly slouching into Eddie’s arms because he can do that now. Completely allowed to be sweet and gross and smitten. 

“Guess my theory was wrong after all.”

“Hm?” Eddie replies, still mindlessly channel-surfing.

Steve gives Eddie a quick kiss on the cheek (because he can do that now too), and looks at the shirt. Muted red, almost pink. Soft and touchable. “Apparently, you do get cool birthday gifts as an adult.”

“What are you mumbling about?”

This thing between him and Eddie. It feels longer than running sand or ticking timers. Longer than their years of friendship. Maybe not timeless…

“I’ll tell you later, Eddie.”

But pretty damn close.

#steddie #steddie fic #Steve has a really soft shirt and Eddie can't stop touching it #that's it. that's the plot lol.

[tightjeansjavi]

𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟟

First Date Jitters & Cowboy Margaritas

♡ 𓃗 ♡

Pre! Outbreak Joel x horseback riding instructor f!reader

~word count: 4.5k~

Summary: Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

Warnings: soft! Joel, shy! Joel, horny!awkward!Joel, fluff, flirting, slow burn, feeling flustered, sexual tension, brief horny thoughts, bantering, teasing, no use of (y/n), (+18) minors dni !

blue jeans playlist:

Austin, Texas

Joel Miller called you every morning the following week leading up to your anticipated first date. You both were giddy with nervous excitement. He wanted this date to be perfect in every sense. Sure, he could take the typical route and wine and dine you but where was the fun in that? It was clear that neither of you were the conventional type and that was one of the many reasons why he was attracted to you. Despite your hectic schedule between taking care of the horses, teaching lessons, and bartending in between, Joel wanted to make sure that you had an enjoyable evening with him. By Thursday, he was a flustered mess. He had his doubts that maybe you would call and cancel on him. Maybe it was too soon for you, or on the off chance, he would end up being so nervous that he would end up chickening out on you entirely.

“You’re um–you’re still excited for Friday, right darlin’?” He held his phone against his ear, tapping his fingers across the steering wheel. He had just pulled into the parking lot of the jobsite he and Tommy would be working at for the next few days.

“Joel, I literally have not been able to stop thinking about our upcoming date all damn week. You know I almost ate shit yesterday cause I was too busy thinking about you? You’re gonna have to start paying rent if you wanna live in my mind like that mister.” You held your phone against your chin and shoulder as you were filling up Whiskey’s water bucket, leaning against his stall door while he happily ate his morning grain.

Joel felt the heat rise to his cheeks when you admitted that you had been thinking about him, and the date, just as much as he had been. “Well, I'm really sorry that my devilishly handsome mug almost caused you to eat shit darlin.’ I just..i’m nervous if i’m bein’ honest, and I know that ain’t what you want to be hearin’ from a man right now. Y’know I just have been off my game for so long and I just don’t wanna screw this up.”

You reached over and gave whiskey a light pat on his neck, threading your fingers through his silky soft cream colored mane. “Easy there now cowboy, I said you were handsome, not devilishly handsome.” You giggled. “Joel, its okay that you’re nervous. In fact, if you weren’t a little bit nervous i’d actually be pretty concerned. You’re doing just fine, okay? I appreciate your honesty. Not many men would be admitting to their first date jitters. You’re cute, Joel and I highly doubt there’s any way for you to screw this up.”

Joel softly chuckled as he rested his head back against his worn headrest in his truck. “I know darlin’ I was just teasin’ ya. Thank you for validatin’ my feelings. You’re a real peach, you know that? Also, I 100% will be thinking about you all damn day now just ‘cus you said i’m handsome AND cute. You see what you’re doin’ to me darlin’? Turnin’ my fuckin’ brain to actual mush.”

“Peach is actually my middle name, believe it or not. Good! Your brain should be turning to mush because you’re living in mine rent fucking free man.” You giggled.

“Wait, is it really? Darlin’..are you messin’ with me right now?”

“Oh, I absolutely am. I gotcha there huh?”

“I was believin’ you for a good second there hun. Listen, you know i’d love nothin’ more than to chat with ya all mornin’ but I gotta run unfortunately. Tommy and I got this big project to start on. I hope you have a wonderful day and say hi to the boys for me, okay?”

“No worries. I gotta get some shit done around here before my 9 o'clock lesson gets here. I hope you have a wonderful day as well Joel. I’ll tell the boys you say hello.”

“Talk to ya later darlin.’”

“See ya around, cowboy.”

Joel ended the call as he let out a soft, content sigh. He grabbed his tool box from the passenger seat as he hopped out of his truck. He tucked his phone into his tool belt around his waist before he clapped his younger brother on the shoulder.

“Wow. You’re early for once Joel.” Tommy said with a grin as he tightened the laces on his boots. “So, you all ready for your big date tomorrow? You’re not gonna be an ass and chicken out on this girl, right?”

Joel was tightening his tool belt around his waist so it fit more snuggly. “Oh, I'm excited alright. Nervous as all hell at the same time. I really don’t wanna mess this up. I uh–I actually just got off the phone with her. We talk every mornin’ and it's become apart of both of our routines.”

Tommy let out a playful gag as he straightened his back after tightening his boots. “Oh Christ. You really have just completely gone and turned into a fuckin’ sap. Never actually thought I'd live to see this day.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. You just wait till you get to meet her. You’ll see exactly what I'm talkin’ about then. Can you still come over tomorrow and watch Sarah?”

“Ohhh. So, you’re already thinkin’ about bringing her around? You’re down so bad big brother. Course I can watch Sarah. Love that kiddo man. Besides, she fills me in on all the important stuff.” He winked.

“Well..uh–I hope that I will eventually be bringin’ her around. You and Sarah are like two peas in a pod I swear.”

“I cannot fuckin’ wait to meet the bird that has taken my poor big brother’s heart! Sarah’s my favorite niece. What can I say?”

“She’s your only niece Tommy.” Joel corrected him.

“Shuddup. You knew what I meant.”

Thursday had flown by for both you and Joel and Friday evening had rolled around faster than either of you had expected. It was 5pm and Joel was puttering around his house, making sure he had everything ready. Joel was taking you to a local drive-in movie and he had gone as far to set up his truck bed with pillows and blankets. He wanted you to be comfortable. That was 100% his main concern was your comfort above all. He had even gone and picked up a bunch of snacks and placed them all in a cooler with a couple beers and water.

Just as he was placing the cooler in the bed of his truck, Tommy had pulled in the front of the house and hopped out of his own truck. He had the board game tucked under his armpit for him and Sarah to play. “What in god’s green fuckin’ earth have ya gone and done to your truck Joel?”

“Huh? What’re you–Oh. The pillows and shit? Well, I'm takin’ her to the local drive-in. Do you think it's too much?I just wanna make sure she’s comfortable..”

“Oh my god, of course you’re takin’ her to the drive-in! You sly sly dog.” He chuckled. “Joel, I'm sure she’s gonna love it, and especially since you’ve put a ton of effort into this whole thing.”

“Hey! It ain’t like that Tommy. I was gonna take her to that one taco place in town..pick some food up and then we’re gonna go to the drive-in.”

“Brother, I'm just messin’ with ya! Relax. You are gonna kiss her at the end of the night right? She’s probably gonna expect you to.”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He most definitely had not thought that far ahead yet. Was Tommy right? Were you going to expect him to kiss you by the end of the date? Was that something that you’d even want? “Oh..well I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead. Shouldn’t I be takin’ it slow?”

“My word of advice to ya is just to just see what signs she’s givin’ ya. I ain’t sayin’ y’all have to kiss or anythin’, but just to keep that in the back of your mind is all i’m sayin.’”

Joel let out a huff as he hopped down from the bed of his truck and closed the latch over the top as he dusted his pants off. “Okay, I'll keep that in mind.”

Tommy brought his arm around his shoulder, giving his brother a side hug. “Good man. Now, what’re you wearin’?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Sarah and I will help ya find somethin.’”

After turning the horses out for the evening, you locked the barn up before heading to your apartment to quickly get ready. Your first date jitters were coming in full force as you quickly showered. You just wanted to know where your Texas tall glass of water was taking you for the evening. The possibilities with Joel were clearly endless. You had not felt this excited about a guy since the situation with your ex.

By 6pm, you were scrambling to finish getting ready. Your room, and bathroom were a complete disaster as you struggled putting an outfit together. You didn’t want to look sloppy and you also didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard. Ugh. Why was being a girl so difficult sometimes? Was Joel facing the same struggles as you were right now?

At 6:15 you finally decided on going with some simple light washed jeans, a cute top and a flannel, in case it got chilly. You paired it with a nicer pair of sneakers that didn’t have scuff marks all over them. Overall, you felt pretty confident in your outfit choice. You were torn between doing a full makeup look in the beginning but with the time crunch, you only had time to swipe a bit of mascara over your lashes and lip gloss on your lips.

Your phone rang loudly from the kitchen where it was charging. You raced to grab it, flipping it open as you brought it up to your ear.

“Hey darlin.’ I’m about to head on over. Are you ready or do ya need more time? There’s no rush or anythin–”

“Hey Joel. Yeah, I'm ready. See you soon?” You lightly chewed on the tip of your thumbnail. The butterflies were absolutely swarming in your stomach.

“Perfect. See ya soon darlin.’”

The call ended and you spent the next 10 minutes furiously looking over your appearance in the mirror. You checked to make sure you had nothing stuck between your teeth and even gave your armpits the sniff test just to make sure. As soon as you heard a knock on the front door of your apartment, the butterflies erupted again as you grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder. With a deep breath you unlatched the lock and opened it.

On the other side of your apartment door was your Texas tall glass of water. He had a bundle of fresh wildflowers grasped between his hands. You could tell he had picked them himself just by the fact that there was some brown twine holding them together. You both stared at each other for a long moment as you seemingly were taken in one another’s appearance.

“Wow.” He breathed out, letting his shoulders relax. “You look beautiful.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself cowboy.” You said with a small grin. Joel must have been in a nervous rush just like you because his T-shirt was very clearly on backwards. “Uh, Joel? I think your shirt is on backwards.”

Joel’s cheeks immediately felt hot as the realization dawned upon him. “Aw shit. Y’know I would have thought that my brother would have told me this before I left the house.” He grumbled quietly. “Oh! These are for you..I uh– picked them earlier while I was on the job-site. They kinda just..reminded me of you..I hope you like them.” He handed you the homemade bouquet of wildflowers and much to your surprise, he wasted no time to pull his t-shirt over his head. As soon as you caught a glimpse of his broad, tan chest, you inhaled a shaky breath. The exposure of skin was quickly covered with the shirt on the right way now.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me Joel. That was awfully sweet of you. Let me just put them in a vase real quick and then we can be on our way?”

“I would have gone to the store and gotten you roses or somethin’ but that didn’t seem like your style.” He leaned against the doorjamb as you headed into your cute little cozy kitchen. He watched as you grabbed a vase from a cabinet and filled it up with a bit of water before placing the bouquet inside. You joined him outside the door, locking it behind you before his hand was at your lower back, leading you down the stairs to his truck.

Chivalry was alive and well thanks to Joel Miller. He held the passenger side door open for you, and even gave you a little boost into the seat. Once you were buckled in, and he was situated in the driver's seat, he had placed his hand on the back of your seat as he leaned over the center console and checked over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking spot.

Why was that alone so fucking hot? He smelled amazing too. He was wearing an intoxicating delicious cologne and you would absolutely love to just bury your face into his neck–

“Did ya hear me darlin’?”

“What? No..I’m sorry I didn’t. I zoned out there for a second.”

“S’alright hun. I asked if you were a fan of tacos? There’s this place not far from here that has some good ones. Also, the best takeaway margaritas that Austin Texas has to offer.”

“You had me at tacos and margaritas.” You looked over at him from the passenger seat.

“Awesome. I had a feelin’ you’d be into it but just wanted to make sure, y’know?” He cleared his throat slightly as he had one hand on the steering wheel and the other was resting along the center console. “I meant what I said earlier. You look beautiful.”

“Oh, yeah. I love tacos. Literally my favorite food of all time.” You glanced down at his hand briefly as it rested along the center console. Before your brain could stop you, you boldly grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers together. His palm beneath yours was warm, slightly clammy from the nerves, and you could tell he used his hands a lot just from the texture of calluses on his skin. These were the hands of a true, rugged man. Woof.

Joel felt his breath hitch in his throat the second his fingers were wrapped around yours. Man, you were ballsy tonight. “Well, you’re in for a real treat tonight darlin.’” He gave your hand a soft squeeze, glancing over at you momentarily. He quite liked the way your hand felt around his.

The casual small talk floated between the two of you in the confines of his truck. The radio was softly playing in the background as you told Joel about your day, and how Dieter tried to escape from his stall yet again. Joel was attentively listening to you as he kept his eyes focused on the road. He laughed as you told the story of Dieter, the mischievous Norwegian Fjord, almost escaped again. He truthfully could listen to you talk for hours. You were so animated with your words and it was so hard for him to not be drawn in. As cheesy as it sounds, he felt like he was a moth to flame when it came to you.

You were holding hands the entire drive to the taco place. It was a drive through luckily and he went ahead and placed an order for steak tacos for himself, and veggie for you. Along with chips and guac and two cowboy margaritas. He only slipped his hand out of your grip to pay, and grabbed the bag of food and the two styrofoam cups that contained the margaritas. Once everything was situated, he was reaching for your hand once more.

“What the hell is Cowboy Margarita?” You asked as you took a small sip from the straw.

Joel looked over at you with mocked disappointment written across his face. “Oh my dear, only the best fuckin’ margarita you can get your pretty lil hands on.”

“Oh wow. This is fucking delicious! Holy shit. Where have these been all my life?”

Where have you been all my life? He thought to himself.

“Told ya. Best margarita Austin Texas has to offer.”

You took another sip as you made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. “So, where are you actually taking me cowboy?”

“Well, darlin.’ That would go and ruin the surprise and I ain’t about to do that.”

“Damn. You can’t even give me a little hint?”

“Afraid not hun.”

“Bastard.” you muttered under your breath with a light giggle.

Joel let out a chuckle as he drove a few miles down the road. It was a beautiful evening. There was a cool breeze that drifted in through the open windows of Joel’s truck. The breeze kissed your cheeks tenderly. He had pulled off into a field, where there were about 30 other cars parked in front of a projector screen. Joel felt his heart flutter out of his chest when you looked at him with the biggest grin. “No fucking way. You brought me to a drive-in? I’ve always wanted to go to one!”

He parked a few spots down from another truck with the bed of his truck facing the screen before he cut the ignition. “Course I did. I had a feeling that you’d really enjoy somethin’ like this. That ain’t even the best part. C’mon.” He hopped out of the driver's seat and you followed after him.

To your surprise, Joel had decked out the entire bed of his truck with pillows and blankets. You could tell he thoroughly thought this entire thing through and paid attention to all the little details. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure you were nice and comfy s’all.” He grabbed the two margaritas, and the bag of food and set it alongside the bed of the truck before he came alongside you, gently grabbing your waist as he hoisted you up.

His warm touch along your skin was enough to have your head spinning as you watched him effortlessly pull himself into the bed of the truck. “Take a picture darlin.’ it’ll last longer.” He shot you a wink as he grabbed the bag of food and handed you your drink before he scooted himself back against the pillows and patted the spot next to him.

You wasted no time scooting yourself over to him as he handed you your wrapped tacos with a few napkins. “What movie is on tonight?”

“The Parent Trap. You’ve seen it before?”

“Only about a hundred times. Easily one of the best Disney movies out there.”

“It’s one of Sarah’s favorites as well. I was hopin’ they were gonna show a horse film or somethin’ but this was the next best option.”

Once the movie started, you and Joel were comfortably eating your food. Your shoulders were brushing against one another along with your knees. You both were aware of the close proximity and yet, the butterflies had stilled in your stomach. The nerves had dissipated finally. Joel was a complete gentleman as he gathered up your trash and placed it in the bag and off to the side.

“Would it be alright if I–”

“Yes.” You didn’t even let him finish asking the question. You knew exactly what it was that he was about to ask.

“Damn, woman. Don’t go and gettin’ too excited now darlin.’ I’m just puttin’ my arm around ya is all.” He chuckled.

“Shh. This is one of my favorite parts.” You whispered.

Joel fought the urge to playfully roll his eyes at your remark before he brought his arm around you, gently pulling you into his chest while he stretched his legs out. What he wasn’t expecting you to do was ever so casually hike your thigh up over his waist as you made yourself comfortable. “Is this okay?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’m good darlin.’ You comfy?”

“Absolutely cowboy.”

No funny business took place during the entirety of the film. Joel could hardly focus on the screen because of the searing heat he felt from your warm thigh stretched out over him. You were entirely clouding his senses. You were an absolute doll on helping him clean up and throw out the trash from your food.

The drive back to your apartment was filled with “Long Long Time” by Linda Ronstadt. The windows were down all the way and you and Joel were belting the lyrics together. He couldn’t sing to save his life but did he care? Absolutely not. He was just more than happy to be involved. This was by far the most fun he had ever had on a date. No, he wasn’t just saying that to sweeten you up. He meant it. He felt like he was a teenager all over again. (not that 34 is old in the slightest). You were just the breath of fresh air that he couldn’t get enough of.

He walked you up to your apartment door of course. The poor man couldn’t pick up on your signals as you leaned back against your closed door facing him. You wanted this man to kiss you so fucking bad and he had no clue. “I had a really great time tonight Joel. I don’t know why you were so nervous in the first place, cause you seriously knocked this one out of the park and I mean that sincerely.”

Do I kiss her? Tommy said I should keep that in mind but what if–

“I’m beyond happy to hear that darlin.’ This was the most fun I've ever had on a date. I’m serious about that too. I really had a great time with you. Is it safe to say that a second date is in our future?”

“Second, Third, Fourth. Indefinitely. You know how to treat a lady right, that’s for damn sure.” You were looking up at him expectantly. You were waiting for the moment that he would lean down and finally kiss you. Oh please, just fucking grab my waist and kiss me. Please. Please. Please. I have been wanting to kiss you all goddamn night Joel.

Joel was a complete deer in headlights. It was as if his mind had completely frozen over and he forgot how to function. “I’ll uh–see you soon darlin’?” He leaned down and finally—kissed you on the cheek.

Motherfucker.

Joel was already turning on his heel and down the metal steps when you had called out to him.

“Hey, cowboy? Will you fucking kiss me already?”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

Joel had never moved so fast in his life. He nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast he had turned on his heel. His footsteps were moving faster than his brain process as he returned to you. Before you could get another word in, he grasped your face in his warm palms and finally kissed you. You could tell he was hesitant, and a little rusty, but you happily were there to guide him along as you let your arms drape around his neck. You finally got to feel just how soft this man’s hair was as you threaded your fingers through the back of his head. The tendrils of curls were silky soft. You felt your back press firmly against your apartment door as his lips moved against yours. His hands had dropped from your face and found purchase around your waist. “Is this–is this okay?” He mumbled into your lips.

“Yes, Joel. You’re fine. I promise.” You gripped his hair a little tighter as he breathed hot air into your mouth. You could taste a hint of tequila on his tongue as you breathed in his cologne. As soon as his tongue swiped across your lower lip, your lips parted open for him as he explored your mouth. His kisses grew desperate as the familiar feelings flooded back to him. Joel’s kisses tasted warm, sweet, and they were absolutely addicting. He melted on your tongue like fucking putty.

You let your free hand drop down to the door, you were already moving to push it open when he had stopped you. Your wrist was pinned up against the side of the door. Encaged in his warm grip. “No. Not tonight darlin.’” He rasped. “I want to. You’ve got no fuckin’ clue how badly I want to but you’re worth more than that. I wanna properly date you. I don’t want it to just be a one time thing. You deserve so much fuckin’ better than that.” His lips had detached from yours as his forehead gently rested against yours. His breathing was staggered and his heart was racing out of his chest, clamoring against his ribcage.

Your lips were swollen with his kisses as your lashes slowly fluttered open. The only visible light was from the shitty one above your apartment door. Your breath hitched in your throat when his freehand, that wasn’t engaging your wrist, came up to your face. His thumb brushed across your plush lower lip, tugging it down slightly. “Joel..”

“I know, sweet girl. I know. I promise that it will happen. I’ll take care of you. Every fuckin’ inch of you, okay? I’ll fuckin’ worship you darlin.’”

“Joel.” You whispered through the thick tension between the two of you. “Please kiss me.”

The gap was closed once more. This kiss was less desperate than the last. This was a sweeter kiss. A kiss enveloped in promise that was etched upon your lips. A promise that you meant more to him than just a quick fuck. A promise that he didn’t want this to be a one time thing. Joel wanted to date you. He wanted to properly date you so fucking bad.

A few more tender kisses were shared before he reluctantly pulled away. He hugged you to his chest firmly, lifting you off your feet momentarily as you brought your arms around his broad shoulders. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Get some sleep sugar.”

“You too Joel.” You felt his arms slowly loosen around you as he set you back down onto the ground. His lips brushed against your forehead in a soft kiss before you could no longer feel his warmth and when your eyes opened, he was already heading down the stairs.

You let out a deep sigh as you pushed open the door of your apartment and locked it behind you. You broke out into little lovesick giggles as you sank down against the closed door. You replayed the entire date out in your mind. Your Texas tall glass of water was something else entirely.

As soon as Joel arrived at home, he called you. You were waiting for him of course. Despite the fact that your eyes were struggling to stay open, you both wished each other sweet dreams once more.

tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @bearsbeetsbeskar @beskarandblasters @lovers-liability @777-wonders @mirasantidotes @pedgeitopascal @atinylittlepain @dreamingofdaddydin @cutesyscreenname @loquaciousferret @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @bonglorddaryl @novemberrain-writes @sarahhxx03 @myrealmofchaos @finnsbubblegum @danilakozlovsky @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ssa-raye @pedropascalfan221 @missgurrl @leeeesahhh @yazsos @sunakochansama43 @casa-boiardi @last-girl @frankthesexualsadist @shatteredbaby @rye-flower @elliewilliamsno1simp @wonder-harley

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel miller the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #sarah miller #tommy miller #horse dad joel #joel and horses #pre outbreak!joel #blue jeans n’ texas dreams fic #horse girls

[paladin-heart5]

Raven

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary; you're filling in for Hunnigan as Leon is on a mission. He falls into some trouble, and all you can do is wait.

CW: hurt/comfort, lil blood mentioned, Leon always getting into trouble smh, this might just be poor

Word count; 1208

The sound of your laughter was clear in Leon's comm’s. Your joy made his heart skip a beat. He scanned around the area of the supposed abandoned building. With his gun ready and his flashlight out, he stayed on high alert.

“You have the dumbest one-liners.” Your sweet voice rang through as you adjusted yourself in your chair. You kept a close eye on Leon's position, watching out for any spots he could use as shelter if need be.

“Hey, I'll have you know they're quite the catch. Made you laugh, didn't I?” His voice was quieter, but you could definitely tell he wore a smirk. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, you can admit he's charming.

“And yet Hunnigan is never amused.” Your fingers began tapping on the keyboard, pulling up files of his current mission. Today you were filling in for Hunnigan while she took care of some other important business. You didn't mind one bit, you loved working with Leon. Usually you're handling files and such, definitely tech savvy. Somehow Leon noticed you, and you hit it off quick. Getting to do this for him was a pleasure. You're pretty sure he even recommended you to fill in. “You should be able to find the samples upstairs, there hasn't been any sign of life in the building for months, but be careful.” You explained, switching back into a more professional manner. Leon nodded, although he knew you couldn't see.

“Roger that, Raven, Condor one out.” Leon spoke before continuing on his mission. He slowly made his way upstairs. The only sounds that could be heard were creaking and running water from burst pipes. He skimmed his flashlight throughout the area before heading on. There's a sign on the wall, covered in dirt and blood.

Labs down left hall

“Great, let's get this over with.” Leon muttered before heading to the labs. As he entered the white room, the lights flickered, making it more dim. He scanned around, seeing all the equipment scattered around. His eyes landed on a couple of viles, both labeled with the g-virus.

“Condor one to Raven, found the samples. Looks like you were right, though I can't say I doubted it for a second.” He spoke softly, a smile playing on his lips. Your face heated up at the small praise, you couldn't help but smile.

“Great job, Condor one. I'm sending over the evac, it should be landing at the north entrance soon.” You hummed out as you sent out a signal for the evac, along with updating the file. Leon stopped as he heard something crash down the hall.

“Wait a second,” He whispered as he headed towards the door. He raised his gun and flashlight and faced it down the hall, seeing a licker. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“What is it, Condor one?” You blinked, suddenly feeling worry rush over you.

“We got lickers.” Leon responded in a hurry. More lickers poked out and screeched.

“Get outside, now!” You ordered, causing Leon to start heading the other way. The lickers hear his steps and screech once more before chasing him. He quickly rushed around the corner and pushed some tables in the way. The lickers climbed on the wall and began to gain on him. One used its tongue to grab his wrist, making him grunt. His reaction was to shoot at its head, a perfect shot. He kept running, but more seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Shit-”

“Leon, the evac is right outside. Hurry before that building crashes!” You spoke in a rush, hoping he'll make it out in time. The roof was starting to fall apart, a piece crushing a couple lickers. Leon continued on as fast as he could, but the ground beneath him started to give way. He fell through a hole with a yelp. His hand managed to grip the edge, but he wasn't sure if he could pull up.

“Leon? What's happening?” You asked quickly, fidgeting with your blouse.

“Just hanging out.” Leon groaned, doing his best to lift himself up. The roof crumbled more, rubbled started to fall. A bit had caught Leon off guard, causing him to fall. He landed on the ground and shouted out in pain, his leg was stuck. “Y/n, I'm stuck.”

“What? No- I'm sending the team in.” You immediately called for backup to be sent in. Leon coughed through the comms, “not sure if they'll make it in time.”

“Leon Kennedy, you better not talk like that. You've survived way worse.” You state sternly, getting confirmation that they're heading in. Leon raised a hand to his head, feeling a warm liquid, as he looked, he could see blood.

“Go figure. Look, Y/n, just in case. I was thinking about spending my next vacation with you. Thought we could head to the beach, it's about time I take you on a real date.” Leon panted, trying to free his leg. Your heart began to race, clenching your fist.

“That sounds wonderful, Leon. How about you survive and we can make that happen?” You spoke as calmly as you could, you didn't want to make the situation worse for him. He chuckled in response, followed by a groan.

“I'll do my best.”

“Agent Kennedy! We've got rope here, we're coming to get you!” One of the soldiers shouted down to him, dropping a rope down. “This place is on its last leg, let's get this going.” The man spoke as he slid down, he made quick work with getting the rubble off of Leon.

“Thanks.” Leon breathed out, he did his best to stand, but his leg was definitely twisted at the least. The man helped Leon climb the rope before following. The sound of screeches can be heard in the distance. “Let's go now!” The man shouted to his troops. All of them rushed out, helping Leon of course. Right as they reached the helicopter, the building completely collapsed.

“I owe you guys a drink for that. Time to get out of here.” Leon slowly limped to the helicopter. They all hopped on and headed back. As soon as they reached the base, he was rushed to the infirmary.

Your heels clacked as you jogged your way to check on him. You were anxious as hell, this was scarier than you realized. As you reached his room, you opened the door and held your breath. He was laying back with his leg in a splint, and a couple bandages on his head. He looked over at you, a smile shining through. “Hey there sweetheart.” His voice was a bit hoarse, but you loved it. You quickly rushed to his side and held his hand, squeezing it.

“You scared the shit out of me, jerk.” You breathed out. He chuckled and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb.

“Like you said, I've survived worse. You're not getting rid of me that easily.” He raised his hand to your cheek. You leaned into it and began to relax. He's still here, he's real.

“Just so you know, I love you.” You spoke quietly, he smiled more and pulled you down for a kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Now, about that vacation.” He hummed as he parted slightly.

#leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #fanfic #hurt/comfort

[moonsgemini]

american heartbreak - ii

summary: a big win and one too many tequila sunrises could be just the right push to idiots in love needed, or could possibly create more self doubt.

warnings: cowboy!rafe x oc, fem reader, drinking, bull riding ?, vomit, cussing, mutual pining, ward being ward, excessive use of nicknames (sorry?), cowboy!rafe (yes it needs a warning)

wc: 4.8k

an: I know nothing about bull riding so please bare with me lmao I researched as best as I could. This took soooo long but I did it! I love where this series is going & I hope you guys do too. Next series to be updated is seeking arrangments <3

series master list - previous part

June looked herself over in her mirror brushing her hands over her dress. In her usual sundress and boots she let out a satisfied sigh and grabbed her big denim jacket. She was hoping to catch Rafe’s attention tonight, maybe he would want to spend time with her. Instead one of the girls he always ended up having hanging off his every word.

“James is here Juney!” Amber shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Her boyfriend was going to give the two a ride tonight.

“Coming!” She replied. She grabbed her bag and headed downstairs to meet the couple.

“Hey James,” She said and smiled at the dark haired man.

He nodded at her, “Hey June Summers.” James always said her full name for some reason. June never questioned it. Amber came out from the kitchen and grabbed James’ hand.

June followed behind them. She always felt like they were her parents when it was just the three of them, “We better hurry because June’s gotta help with the raffle tickets. Oh and she needs some time to stare at Rafe,” Amber smirked looking back at the girl who was locking the front door.

“Hey!” June scolded as she turned around quickly.

James laughed and said, “Don’t act like it’s a secret that you’re crazy for him.” He opened the truck door for his girlfriend before she climbed in.

June rolled her eyes opening her door, “I’m not crazy about him! I just have a small crush on him. Just like a school girl crush.”

“Oh please you’ve had a school girl crush on him since you were literally a school girl.” Amber laughed.

“Can we talk about something else please,” June said with a huff, no longer wanting to be ridiculed for her crush.

“You’re coming to Rooster’s right June?” James asked as he drove to the rodeo.

June shrugged, “Yeah I guess so. I don’t want to miss out on another night of Amber falling off the mechanical bull.”

Amber laughed at the memory, “I will be that damn bull one day,” she turned to James, “she’s also going because Rafe explicitly asked if she was going.”

“I’m gonna jump out of this truck right now.”

-

After they arrived James walked them over to where the riders were. He was going to meet Rafe to make sure everything was good to go before his first ride. There was still over an hour before it was supposed to start so June had some time to be with Amber before helping Mrs.Mayfield. She shivered lightly at the cool autumn breeze and also because of her nerves. She was nervous to see Rafe, he always made her a clammy mumbling mess.

Amber was walking with her going off about a girl they went to high school with’s pregnancy announcement. Amber always knew all the gossip and she always passed the information along. June laughed at something Amber said closing her eyes for a split second, but with her clumsiness she tripped over a rock. Her heart dropped as she felt herself go forward but she never hit the ground. A pair of arms held onto her waist firmly keeping her in place. She gasped and looked up at whose arms they were and of course it was Rafe. Her knight in shining armor.

“June bug gotta watch where you’re goin’,” Rafe gave her a lopsided smile as she regained her composure.

She felt hot all over as she stood up straight and took a small step back. Being too close to him was making her dizzy. She cleared her throat, “Well the rock should watch where it’s going.”

She cringed internally at her failed attempt to be witty. His smile turned into a full one as he chuckled, she was thinking that he either agreed she was cringey or maybe thought she was funny. Either way she still felt hot from embarrassment.

“Rafe and I have some prepping to do so we better get a move on,” James said as he walked over to Amber and gave her a hug and a kiss. June had almost forgotten that the couple was there. She watched with admiration, she liked Amber and James together. Mostly because he made her best friend the happiest she’d ever seen her.

While James and Amber were being lovey dovey Rafe had stepped to stand beside June. He leaned down and nudged her shoulder with his, “Am I seein you tonight? After?”

She looked over at him with a shy grin not wanting to show how on the inside she was screaming that he had asked her again about after the rodeo, “Only cause you’ve been askin so nicely.”

Rafe wanted to eat her up. She had no idea of the affect she had on him. He had always harbored a crush on her, ever since he was nine years old. His sister had met her when he was in fourth grade and they were in second grade. Sarah had dragged a girl behind her as she ran towards Rafe and their mom waiting in the pick up area of school. Once he laid eyes on her he couldn’t hear anything Sarah was saying. All he could do was stare at her pretty face.

June started coming over to Rafe’s house and his preteen brain couldn’t handle it. He swears that he stopped finding girls gross when he saw June for the first time. He always kept his distance from her because she was Sarah’s friend. Once he got to high school he had become somewhat of a Casanova since his bull riding career had begun to take off the girls started to pay more attention to him. June never really showed that she liked him as more than a friend so he started dating other girls. He was blind to the way her smile got weaker when she’d see him out with a girl. He couldn’t tell that she always held back tears whenever she’d go to their house and he’d be leaving with a bouquet of flowers in hand for his date that he was late to pick up because he was waiting to run into June to see her.

He always felt like she was too good for him. Too pure for someone like him. Of course he made flirtatious comments towards her and was always a gentleman. Helping her unload new flower pot shipments if he happened to walk in after a delivery. Rafe held doors open for her, always walked her to her car when she’d leave the Cameron house late. He wanted to at least show her that he was always there if she needed him.

June simply thought Rafe was an extreme gentleman and incredibly charming towards everyone in the way he was with her. She learned not to get her hopes up when she kept seeing him with a new girl every week. It was just how Rafe was, she wasn’t any different to him.

“I’m honored,” He smirked.

The couple had finished their goodbyes and walked up to them. Amber wrapped her arm around June’s shoulders, “Rafe your girl has to go help Mrs.Mayfield.”

“Make sure you’re watching when I’m out there,” Rafe pointed at June as him and James began to walk away. She nodded and gave him a small wave as he left. That incredibly charming smile never leaving his face.

“That boy is so smitten,” Amber laughed throwing her head back.

June rolled her eyes, “He’s like this with everyone.”

“Whatever you say honey,” Amber patted her back. They reached the booth where Mrs.Mayfield was setting up the tickets and the cash box.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite flower girls,” The older woman beamed at the girls. She was a sweet lady who everyone in town knew. She was in charge or everything. If there was a community event Martha Mayfield was most likely organizing it.

June hugged the woman, “Mrs.Mayfield you look as beautiful as ever.”

“You’re too good to me dear,” She turned towards the red head next to June, “Now Miss Amber I still do not see a ring on that finger.”

Amber sighed dramatically walking over to the woman, “Soon I hope, please talk some sense into that boy next time he delivers your eggs.”

“I always do honey,” She patted her cheek gently, “Now lets sell some tickets and make some money for the dance.” She clapped her hands and went behind the booth where June had started to help her.

-

Rafe sighed as he listened to his dad try and coach him. Ward was hard on Rafe, he always passed it on as him caring so much about his son. Rafe knew that his dad just wanted bigger trophies and bigger checks. He couldn’t hate the guy because he had given Rafe so much and pushed him hard to be the best. Frankly it worked and Rafe became the best.

It’s why now he was really getting a coaching lesson because tonight was either all or nothing. If Rafe got first place he’d move on to the semi finals. Of course he wanted to win the championship but making it to the semis of the southern eastern bull riding championship (SEBRC) would bring him a lot of attention. He’d be closer to going pro. Rafe was already being watched by a lot of sponsors and recruits but a win would prove just how good he is.

“Whatever you do Rafe do not let go,” Ward looked at him intensely, “And do not let your hand fall. You have to use everything in you son.”

“Dad I got this okay? Trust me I can do this,” He nodded his head, “I will do it.”

“Alright lets get out there it’s almost time.” Ward patted his son on the shoulder as he led him out of the stables where they had been talking.

They walked back over to where his team was watching the current rider. Rafe put his hands on James shoulders startling him.

“Holy shit dude,” He gasped.

“Lets get ready,” They walked over to the bull pen.

James looked over at his best friend, “is tonight the night?”

“What, the night I win?” Rafe smirked.

“No idiot, the night you finally ask her out or do something.”

He shrugged, “I’ve got something in mind.”

“Just don’t let those buckle bunnies near you of else she’s gonna keep thinkin you don’t see her that way.”

-

After all the raffle tickets had been sold June joined Amber and Sarah in the stands. They were sitting with Amber’s parents and a few of their other friends. June sat next to Sarah who was texting intently on her phone.

“Is it John B?” June asked her.

Sarah huffed, “Yeah he thinks he might not be able to drive here next weekend because his van keeps breaking down.”

“I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” She smiled.

“Last but certainly not least is the guy everyone has their eyes on, home town hero Rafe Cameron!” The announcer shouted over the speakers.

Everyone cheered and clapped for Rafe. June felt a pit of nervousness in her stomach. She always worried about him when he rode because anything could happen. She was confident in his abilities but bulls are unpredictable animals.

“This always feels like the longest ten seconds of my life,” Sarah muttered leaning forward in an anxious stance.

“He’ll be okay, he always is okay.” June reassured placing her hands over Sarah’s that had been picking at her cuticles anxiously. She didn’t just say it for her best friend but also for herself.

“He has to beat 6.76 seconds and get more than 88 points to move on,” Amber leaned forward telling the girls.

The blow horn sounded and they lifted the gates. Everything always happened in slow motion. The bull bucked and thrashed around as Rafe held on tight to the rope. His arm steady in the air never faltering. He needed to stay on for three more seconds and he’d most likely win. The clock ticked 6, 7, 8. Then Rafe was finally bucked off, he flew off of the large brown bull landing almost under its heavy hooves. Everyone held their breath as they waited for him to get up. He stood up grabbing his hat swinging it in the air and yelling with excitement as the crowd started cheering. He had stayed on for 8.96 seconds, the best score of the whole night.

June stood up along with everyone else clapping and cheering for the cowboy. Rafe looked out into the crowd with a big smile on his face trying to catch his breath. It was like he knew where she was because his eyes landed on her immediately. He couldn’t hear the crowd cheering anymore he could just see her as she smiled widely and clapped. He would ride a million bulls over and over again if it meant she’d be there cheering him on.

He walked back to his team who was patting him on the back. James came up to him and hugged him with a big smile, “Man you’re a monster, you’re in this fuckin thing. You’ve made it.”

“We’re in this thing. I couldn’t have done this without you man,” Rafe was grateful for his best friend who had become more like his brother. James placed a hand on Rafe’s head ruffling his hear out of endearment.

“Judges have their final scores in,” Ward said walking up to the two men. Ward never really congratulated his son on his achievements, all the more reason why he was grateful for James.

They climbed on the gates to watch the score board. Rafe placed his hat back on his head. He looked back over the the bleachers looking at June again. She was talking to Sarah her eyes going back and forth from the score board to her best friend. As long as she was here Rafe knew everything would be okay if he didn’t score as good as he wanted. Whenever he looked at her the trophies, money, and title’s didn’t matter.

“The judges have their final score for Rafe Cameron, and are we surprised? The 22 year old bull ride comes in with a score of 94!” The announcer says before the crowd goes wild, “Ladies and gentlemen we have our first place winner! Rafe Cameron is headed off to the semi finals!”

James whooped in excitement and wrapped his arm around Rafe. They climbed down from the fence as people came up to Rafe to congratulate him. The other winners were announced but Rafe didn’t care he was riding an unbelievable high.

The girls had practically ran down the bleachers to go find Rafe. Sarah was beyond excited for her brother, all of his hard work was paying off. Once they got to where the team was they saw them hand Rafe a bottle of champagne.

“Rafe! You did it!” Sarah shouted as she ran up to hug her brother, “Mom is so proud.” Rafe nodded his head feeling a bit emotional wishing his mom could be there to witness his success.

“Congrats Rafe,” Amber hugged him next.

“Couldn’t have done it without your man,” He said pulling away and pointing at James.

June wasn’t sure if she should hug him or not. She always got anxious in these situations, wishing she was like those girls that had confidence. Rafe looked over at her as she shyly watched him.

He knew her better than she knew herself so he walked up to her, “Guess you gotta come out now.” He smirked.

“I guess I do,” She shrugged, “Congratulations Rafe. You’re gonna do incredible things.”

Rafe’s heart burst at her words. He reached forward and hugged her. She immediately reciprocated wrapping her arms around him. They pulled away and looked at each other for a few seconds. Their friends around them never interrupting because they knew.

“Champagne anyone?” Rafe said turning to all of them. He shook the bottle before popping the cork and spraying it everywhere.

“Rafe!” Sarah laughed covering her face.

“To Roosters we go!” James said pointing up.

-

June and Sarah interlocked arms as they walked behind James and Amber. Rooster’s was packed as well as the other bars on main street. June sometimes worried that their flower shop a few blocks down would get damaged by a bunch of drunks but they’ve never had any actual problems. Rafe was coming by later after he took care of some things at the rodeo.

“Are you drinking tonight Junie?” Sarah nudged her.

She nodded her head, “I actually am. I just want to have some confidence tonight, not be in the background like always.”

“Tonight is going to be so fun. You’re never in the background babe,” Sarah reassured her as they walked through the bar doors.

It wasn’t too crowded yet as people were still leaving the rodeo. Someone was already riding the mechanical bull and country music was already blasting through the speakers. They went up to the bar where their favorite bartender Sam was.

“My favorite people!” He said wiping his hands on a towel, “What can I get you guys?”

“Jameson and coke for me and three tequila sunrises,” James said knowing the girl’s orders.

“What a gentleman James,” Sarah said.

“Hey first round is on me guys. Gotta treat the champions’ people right,” Sam winked at them.

“Sammy boy you’re too kind,” James said sliding him a twenty as a tip.

Once they got their drinks they found a couple unoccupied tables by the pool tables. They pushed them together before sitting down with their drinks. June’s leg anxiously bounced as she waited for Rafe. Her eyes moving around the room as she looked at everyone. She felt like there were too many pretty girls here for Rafe to even give her an ounce of his attention. The confidence she had was slowly diminishing as the seconds passed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by loud cheering, she looked behind her towards the door. Rafe had walked in changed into a white tee shirt and open flannel with a brown jacket. His riding boots traded out for his nicer ones, black hat still perched on his head. She felt light headed, the half of the tequila sunrise she had drank already getting to her. When his eyes met hers she looked away nervously trying to focus on anything else in the room. Her focus landed on all the women ogling him and sending him flirtatious smiles.

He walked up to the group standing beside June, “Started without me guys?”

“Get your drink so we can celebrate now,” James nodded his head towards the bar.

“June bug will you come with me?” Rafe asked turning towards the girl who had yet to make eye contact with him again.

She looked up her face getting hot, “Sure.”

They walked over to the bar and Sam immediately took Rafe’s order. June placed her hands on the bar her eyes looking anywhere but Rafe. The liquor bottles behind the bar were really fascinating.

“How did selling the raffle tickets go June bug?” Rafe asked trying to make conversation.

She turned to him trying to set her nerves aside, “It went well, definitely got some money for the community.”

“That’s good,” He smiled, “how’s the flower business going darlin?”

She laughed softly, “Uh it’s actually going really good. Even with the weather gettin colder sales are still good. We even have a huge wedding coming up that’s going to be beautiful and so great for business. They ordered tons of bouquets with the most amazing colors,” she rambled on about her work. June was very patient about flowers, she loved how something from the earth could make someone feel so happy, loved, cared about, and seen.

Sam brought over his drink telling him that it was on him. Rafe nodded his head at him before taking a sip, “You know I love when you talk flowers,” he smiled at her.

Her eyes widened slightly, “You do?”

He nodded, “Of course, your eyes light up and you’re just so passionate. It’s attractive sweetheart.”

June’s skin was going to melt off if she felt herself getting any hotter, “You’re too ki-“

“Rafe!” A high pitched voice interrupted. Both Rafe and June turned towards the noise.

“Oh hey Rachel,” Rafe said trying to be polite. Rachel was one of Rafe’s endeavors that he returned to a few times too many. Now she thought that her and Rafe could be something more when he never promised her anything.

“You were amazing tonight. You’re sooo talented,” She twirled her blonde hair paying no attention to June.

“Thanks, um this is June,” He nodded towards the girl he really wanted to be alone with.

The blonde turned her attention towards her a small furrow in her brows, “Oh hi, how do you two know each other.” Rafe knew that Rachel was trying to figure out if June was hooking up with him.

“I’m friends with Sarah so we kind of grew up together,” June said feeling a spark of jealousy in herself.

“Cute,” Rachel said tilting her head a teasing smile on her lips. She turned to Rafe again putting a hand on his arm, “Rafe come sit with us I’d love to congratulate you on your big win.”

Rafe didn’t really want to deal with Rachel and her friends at the moment. He had someone else he wanted to focus on. He turned to where June was and found her spot empty. He looked around the room and found her walking back to the table. He sighed, “Actually I’m gonna hangout with my friends tonight,” he tipped his hat at her and walked back over to where they were all sat.

Sarah glared at him, “Rachel again? Seriously?”

Rafe rolled his eyes as he sat next to June, “Actually no.”

June felt like maybe it was because of her that he didn’t hangout with her. Or maybe he just wanted to be with his friends. Either way she was glad that Rafe was sitting next to her.

-

After a lot of laughing and three more drinks June was definitely drunk. She had been laughing at something one of their friends, Stevie, had said when Rafe started to notice just how drunk she was. He had never seen her be so social and he liked it but he was also worried because he’d never seen her drink this much.

“James and I are gonna head out. We’ve got the farmer’s market tomorrow Junie,” Amber said placing a hand on her friends back.

“Oooo can you guys drop me off please?” Sarah asked with a slight slur.

Amber wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “well of course dear.”

June’s eyes widened at the mention of the market, “Oh nooo the farmer’s market, I forgot about that,” she put her head down on the table starting to regret that last shot she took with Sarah, “I’m gonna be so hungover.”

“Come on babe we’ll take you home,” Amber said patting her head.

She sat up and looked over at Rafe with a pout, “I don’t wanna go home yet.”

He gave her a small smile and brushed some hair out of her face, “I can take you home in a bit bug, I only had a couple beers.”

She smiled widely and quickly turned back to Amber, “Rafe is taking me home,” Her smile never faltering.

“Okay babes,” She laughed knowing her friend wanted more time with the guy she’s been in love with since they were 7, “Rafe please get her home safe.” She pointed at him with a stern look.

“Yes ma’am,” He said tipping his hat at her bidding the trio good bye.

The other guys that had been with them had joined a group of women at the dart boards working moved on them trying to teach them how to play. June looked around the room at all the people having fun and drinking. They all seemed so care free, like they did this all the time. She wished she could be this fun all the time, then maybe Rafe would like her.

“Rafey I wish I could be this fun all the time,” She pouted looking over at him.

Rafey. She hadn’t called him that since they were kids. He didn’t realized he missed hearing her saying it until his body felt tingly all over. It rolled so smoothly off her lips like only she could say it because she was the only one who made it sound good.

“Sweetheart you are fun all the time,” He reached forward and brushed her hair back again. Admiring her pretty face.

She leaned her head against his hand enjoying the warmth they brought, “mmm then why don’t you see me more.”

“I’d see you every day if I could bug. I’m gonna make more time for my girl,” He smiled lovingly at her. He really hoped she’d remember this tomorrow.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes a dopey smile on her lips. Before she could say anything she felt her stomach turn. The tequila was catching up to her now. June sat up straighter with wide eyes. That’s when she felt everything coming up. She slapped her hand over her mouth and as best as she could in her drunken state she ran out of the bar doors.

Rafe wasn’t far behind her as she turned the corner to puke on the side of the bar. The contents of her stomach spilling all over the dirt, some of it getting on her favorite pair of boots. Rafe stood behind her holding her hair up and patting her back. He made a mental note that three drinks was the cut off for you.

“Oh god this is so embarrassing,” She sniffled once she was done. She was a lot more sober now and definitely wishing she could get swallowed by the earth. Rafe Cameron just saw her puke her guts out. The guy she’s been in love with forever.

“No no it’s okay June,” He held her hands, “let’s get you home okay? You’ll feel a lot better once you’re in bed.”

She frowned as she walked with him to his truck, “You probably think I’m so gross.”

“I could never. You’re always an angel to me,” He opened the door for her and helped her in.

She had no words. June felt like she didn’t deserve Rafe, he was always so kind and never judged her. The world was lucky to have him. He jogged over to the drivers side and got in. The drive to June’s house was quiet except the rock music that was softly playing from the radio. It was a nice silence.

Once they arrived to June’s house Rafe opened the door for her. Holding her hand as she climbed down. He placed a hand on the small of her back leading her up the porch stairs to the front door. She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door.

She didn’t go inside yet she turned to Rafe looking down at the ground not really wanting to meet his eyes. She was still feeling ashamed from the parking lot fiasco, “Thank you for driving me home Rafe.”

“Anytime, you good to go up on your own?” He asked wanting to make sure she makes it up the stairs and into bed.

She nodded her head finally looking up at him, “I’m a bit sober now so I’m good. Thank you,” she gave him a shy smile. The liquid courage was definitely leaving her system.

“Call me if you need anything at anytime, okay? I’ll be there,” he reached for her hand giving it a small squeeze, “I’ll see you tomorrow June bug.” He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to her cheek.

Her eyes widened in shock, maybe she was drunk? He pulled away and started walking down the porch steps. Once he got to the bottom he turned towards her with a small smirk, “I’m not leaving till you go in darlin.”

She cleared her throat and blinked a few times before turned the door knob, “Right uh good night Rafe.” She waved stepping into the house.

After locking the door behind her she leaned against it with a sigh. June listened as Rafe drove away already missing him. He was so sweet to her that night. She wanted to think it was because things were changing between them, what if he does see her in a different way.

As soon as those thoughts entered her mind they left. Who was she kidding? Rafe could have anyone why would he choose me? she thought to herself as she walked upstairs to her room. She decided that if this was just Rafe being kind then she’d savor it and enjoy it before he finds someone who actually interests him.

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[thranduilsperkybutt]

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Pic source: 1

Pairings: Johnny Silverhand/V!Reader; Exceedingly minor Goro Takemura/V!Reader alluded to Warnings: Endgame spoilers; Arasaka!ending; I take liberties with the ending (everyone lives AU); yearning; fighting; nsfw banter (no actual explicit behaviors); angst with a happy ending; mentions of canon-typical drug use and violence Word Count: 9,936 words Reader Gender: Female Author: Meg Summary: Johnny always wants a lot of things--- a smoke, a good fuck, for you to turn the radio to 107.3 instead of that new age crap you like. In a perfect world, he'd like to have his own body back, too, but this isn't a perfect world. This is Night City, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to forgive you for going and doing this. Turns out that being in love requires being unsatisfied. A/N: Look. I finally finished playing the game as corpo!V and I will not live with these endings, alright? I'm gonna make my own.

“Think they make shitty motels like this just for screw-ups like us?”

You make a point to continue staring at the ceiling of the ‘shitty motel’ room, deep breathing the mildew and age-old cigarettes. He isn’t wrong, but you don’t want to hear it right now. He always has a way with words. Wiping your hands down your face, you do your best to ignore him, but Johnny wasn’t the most dismissible parasite you’ve ever had.

“’Parasite’s’ talkin’ to you, fuck-up,” he flicks his cigarette butt at you in retaliation for the thoughts in your head and it glitches through your thigh with a fuzzy tickle in your neurons. “Do ya’ really think Arasaka is gonna’ just let you waltz away after grabbin’ that stuck-up bitch princess of theirs? You’re fucked.”

“Was fucked before that, Johnny--- royally, if you’ll remember,” you groan, and turn away from him. He appears on the other side of the bed, leaning over it to glare at you. “Got you to show for it, after all.”

“Why are you so chill about this? Takemura fucked you both by deciding to take a life-sized souvenir from your trip to Cherry Town---"

“Cherry Blossom Market---” he barely acknowledges your interruption; you doubt he cares about the situation past hearing himself talk either way.

“--- and you’re just gonna’ do what? Sit here like a ditched date, waitin’ by the phone for that ‘Saka scum to call?”

“Johnny,” you push yourself up into a sitting position, headache threatening a presence at the back of your skull. The edges of his shoulders have that glitchy quality you’ve come to know follows his movements at times when he crosses his arms, but his glare is clear as ever.

“What? Don’t like me callin’ him that?” he rolls his eyes as he certainly feels your annoyance spike, “Jeez, didn’t think you could ride ‘Saka’s dick any harder, but if you literally want to---”

“What crawled up your holographic ass and died tonight?” you bark back, and the glint behind his eyes tells you that this is what he wanted all along. A fight, interaction, anything other than you just melting into the stained mattress of this motel room while the fan drones overhead in excruciating monotony. Johnny’s at his worst when he’s bored or cornered, you’ve found.

“I don’t know, V, maybe the fact that while I’m livin’ in your head, I’ve gotta’ listen to all your disgusting little thoughts about that Grade-A asshole? I’ve never had a dry spell that’d make me wanna’ sleep with a corpo drone, but maybe old habits die hard for you, huh?” You try to ignore his jab at your corporate background, but you know he just can’t help himself, “At this rate, alert a joytoy pronto, because I think I’ll throw up if I gotta’ watch you eyefuck your ronin anym---"

“You’re so fucking annoying sometimes, Johnny, you know that?” you rub your temples, trying to bite back the heat in your cheeks. No telling if it was from embarrassment at his inevitable acknowledgement of your major-league crush on Goro, or an oncoming stroke. At this point you are wishing for the stroke.

“You say that, but you’re not havin’ to watch how pathetic you look waitin’ on Takemura to call. Shit, even that cop you turned down would be better than this guy.”

Rising to your knees, you point a finger directly against his chest, feeling the fuzzy presence of your fried synapses mistaking him for something real at your fingertips, “Know what? Maybe I will fuck Goro the next time I see him, just to screw with you. Maybe I’ll finally get some peace and quiet when you slink back to God-knows-where to hide in my head while I lay back and take it from the big, bad, ‘Saka scum.’”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growls down at you, the fire in his eyes flickering from your own to your lips and back again. “If you wanted me gone, you’d’ve taken those omega blockers by now.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’d take a half-dose of pseudoendotrizine just so I could kick your ass, if it wouldn’t mean kicking mine, too.”

“Now, there’s a thought,” he reaches out, pushing you back by a phantom grip on your shoulder. Your body flings itself onto the mattress without a thought, “But I don’t need a pill to kick your ass, remember?”

“Asshole,” you grumble defeatedly, but his anger seems to dissipate, if only a little.

“Bitch,” he chuckles, and it’s a short sound of disbelief. “Don’t pout like a damn kid.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of mean, Silverhand?” you look down to where he still stood beside--- no, knelt onto, now--- the bed. His lips are quirked into a slight smile, one brow raised like he doesn’t quite understand just why all your annoyance has seemed to sink away into the dingy carpet and rotting walls of this place. Maybe it’s the exhaustion settling into your bones?

Or perhaps it’s the uneasy feeling in your gut when he looks at you. Despite the mountain of resentment your soul screams that you have every right to have at him for stealing your life away from you with every waking second, you can’t seem to bring yourself to hate him.

He clicks his teeth thoughtfully, dipping his weight onto the knee he has on the bed, but it doesn’t creak under his weight or acknowledge his presence, “It may have come up, once or twice.”

He isn’t really here, the soft static framing his hard edges reminds you.

“Why, then?” Why does he keep falling into the same pattern? Why does he treat you like this? Why does he look at you like that afterwards?

You don’t ask any of those questions, but you don’t have to. He’s in your head, after all--- but you think he’d be able to figure them out even if he didn’t have a front-row seat to your every thought. You still aren’t sure how much of your consciousness he is privy to, but you know it’s enough for him to know more about you than any other person ever has.

At this point, he might know your mind better than you do.

You wish you could read his half as well.

“Maybe I just don’t like watchin’ you run head-first into what’s bound to be another shit-show’s all, choom,” he deflects, but his eyes don’t turn from your gaze. There’s something guarded in them, sure, but they soften all the same.

You sit on his bullshit explanation for a few seconds, tasting the thought on your tongue, “Is that what we are, Johnny? Chooms?” It’s an unsatisfactory descriptor, but you don’t know if there’s a word in the English language that can accurately describe what you are to each other.

“I don’t know, V. Are we?”

Before you can even think of an answer, the sound of your holo ringing breaks through your ears and Goro’s image appears in your optics.

Johnny huffs and just like that, any softness in his gaze disintegrates with a roll of his eyes, “Go on--- know you’re giddy as a schoolgirl to answer that.”

“Fuck you, Johnny,” you grumble, before picking up the line and watching him straighten up off the bed before disappearing from your gaze in a static glitch. “Goro---”

“V, meet me, quickly as you can. I’m sending the coordinates.”

---

Your fingers run over the markings of Johnny’s initials you’d just carved against the metal. It’s jagged, raw, and as good a headstone as he was ever going to get, given you’d probably never find where his body had been truly laid to rest. In a city like Night City, after so many years? He’s lucky enough that Arasaka had dumped his body at all, instead of incinerating it like most folks these days.

“There, how’s that for a marker?”

Johnny leans back from where he’d been moping and gestures to your makeshift headstone, “Say this was my real grave, what would you write? ‘Here lies Johnny Silverhand…’”

The words roll around your head in tandem with the pit of dread in your stomach. It didn’t feel right talking to him like he was dead, even though the rational part of your mind knew it was true. The real Johnny Silverhand died more than fifty years ago, and you were left talking to a ghost--- a copy that seemed close enough to the real deal, but you never would be able to know if he was a good one. More recently, though, he’s started to seem just as real as the ground you walk on and, while you know that’s something to be deeply worried about, you can’t help but have come to enjoy his company.

When he’s not being an asshole, that is.

For better or worse, he was, “The guy who saved my life.” You’d been through so much--- everything--- together. It hadn’t been intentional on his part; he’s only a piece of broken prototype tech going haywire in your head, but it was still true. He’s saved you in more ways than one, lately.

The words sink into him, dragging his shoulders down like the same ache you feel in your soul. His eyes meet yours beneath his sunglasses, holding you in a regret so deep that you think it will swallow you both with the knowledge that he’ll be the death of you.

Johnny reaches up, metal fingertips clicking on his shades in a way that’s so honest in your ears that it’s difficult to remember it’s just another one of your disconnected mind’s lies anymore, “You don’t know how much I want that to be true.” He pulls the barrier from his face to dangle between his knees as his free hand wipes at the perpetual dirt on his skin, “Listen, I realize I’ve fucked up a lot of things. Either let down or used every last person who gave me their trust--- blind, selfish bastard that I was--- but I’ve managed one thing, for now. Not to fuck this up. What we have.”

Johnny’s always wanted a lot of things--- a smoke, a good fuck, for you to turn the radio to 107.3 instead of that new age crap you like. He's rather demanding, day in, day out.

You've been privy to his every request as it flits through your shared head for long enough that he’s come to annoy you nearly as much as he's grown on you. He’s like moss overtaking a stone, so slow that you don’t realize it until he’s covered all of you. He’s changing you into something neither of you can quite recognize anymore, and as the days pass, you worry you’ll never be able to wash him away and return to the person you were before him.

Worse, you don’t know if you will want to.

“What do we have, Johnny?” you sigh, looking up at the light-polluted sky. You weren’t far enough out of town to see stars, just the dim void and flickering city lights reflected on the clouds above. Maybe if you were at camp with the Aldecados, you’d spot a star among the dusky sky. Maybe life would seem simpler, easier, “I don’t know what you want from me.” All you know for sure is that you were growing so tired of the fight. There’s this hurt in your chest; you can’t tell if it’s yours or his. Maybe it’s something you share. Maybe this is what he means.

Or something close to it, “Most of who I thought were my friends, well, it turns out they couldn’t hardly stand to be in the same room with me. But you?”  You hear him pause, but you don’t dare to look at him. There’s a stammer in your chest, and you’re terrified at what it means, “You’re forced to be right fuckin’ here, twenty-four-seven, and you don’t seem to hate my living guts.”

This silence is something you can only achieve on the outskirts of the city, but you know it would be worse if you were further away. It’s almost excruciating, being alone with your thoughts--- being alone with his.

“There a point in there?” your heart aches for him, and you know he can feel it. It’s more than pity, more than friendship, but you try your hardest not to think of what it could possibly mean--- let alone, say it.

He knows, though. Of course he does. He has to.

“Just that… I think you’re my first real choom, even though you’re a real bitch sometimes.”

Your head lulls forward, and it takes all your strength to muster a glare at the pained smile dancing at his lips. There’s more to it than that, you both know it, but you’re grateful that he’s feeling somewhat merciful tonight--- it was something you didn’t know he had in him.

Maybe it’s only something he has in him when it comes to you.

“Chooms, huh?” tilting your head, you pretend to mull it over like it’s a proposition of eddies from a fixer. Playing it off with a shrug, you concede, “I could get used to being Johnny Silverhand’s choom, I guess, even though he was a total dick at first.”

“As if you didn’t deserve it,” Johnny smirks.

“Uh, remind me again, who’s been whining about missing his smokes since day one?” it’s a half-hearted blow, and his widening grin shows it. “Better yet, beggin’ me to get my rocks off?”

“My own personal hell is being stuck inside a non-smoker, and it doesn’t help that you’re practically a nun,” you toss a rock at him for that, and it goes straight through his chest like he isn’t even there. He isn’t, but he grins at you anyways, “Still… who’d’ve thought we’d make it this far?”

You sit there for a beat, feeling your own smile turn at your lips, before sighing, “You know, if you really want a marker, we could get you one at the columbarium.”

“For what, an empty box?” shaking his head, he puts his shades back on to perch atop his nose.

“Please, I have more of your stuff than even your most devoted fanboys. I don’t need it all. We could, I don’t know, ‘retire’ something of yours there. You know, as a symbol,” his gaze weighs heavy on you, and you can’t for the life of you understand what’s going through his mind. It frustrates you nearly as much as his stare seems to, and you shift your gaze back to the sky in your attempt to escape his holographic scrutiny.

“Let me guess, you’ll bring me flowers every day?” it surprises you that his tone isn’t mocking, but rather curious. “Would you visit his grave?” he seems to ask.

Trying to lighten the mood, you tease, “You know me, too busy trying not to die for all that.” You look back to him with a wink, “Plus, preem flowers are expensive these days, choom. ‘Fraid you’ll have to settle for the synth ones. Besides, you seem like a cheap date to me.”

“Bitch.”

“Just say, ‘Thank you.’”

It’s as close as either of you will come to what you really want to say.

---

From the roof of Misty’s building, it’s almost as if the troubles of the city no longer exist. You think you understand why Jackie found his choice up here. It seems as good a place as any to choose between life and death.

You would have to come to yours, too, soon. Maybe you already have, and you just don’t want to admit it.

The thought dwells in your head, and it feels like the only choice that makes sense.

“You’re not considering that. Please, tell me you’re not seriously considering going to those bastards again for help,” Johnny’s voice tears you from your dreadful stare over the neon Night City advertisements staring back at you. Promising everything from NiCola to the market version of the prototype Relic crammed in your head. “You’re trying to make sense of something that makes zero damn sense!”

You think he might wind up hating you forever, for this.

“Takemura said---” you begin, but he cuts you off as he stands from his spot on the ledge overlooking the city and takes up pacing.

“Fuck that guy!” Johnny rounds on you, fiery as ever--- but there’s something more terrible in his eyes; a grief that only comes from knowing he won’t be able to change your mind. “You’re just takin’ the easy way out! Those ‘Saka bastards won’t stay true to their word, you know. All they do is lie, and they’ll keep lying to you so long as it gets them what they want from you. You can’t really believe they’ll help you or me!”

The truth is, you’re too tired and you don’t know what’s worse: the taste of blood on your tongue, or the look of disappointment in his eyes.

You should be at least used to the blood by now.

“I’m dying, Johnny. Hanako is the only person who can maybe help us. Name someone else. Anyone! They made this tech---”

“They’re only gonna’ hurt you. We can do this a different way,” he stops pacing to stand so close that you can swear his boots touch yours. It’s as if you could feel the heat radiating off him, but that may just be the fever settling deathly into your skin, “Hell, give me the keys and I’ll get us to Mikoshi. I’ll burn this whole fuckin’ city to the ground to get you there and I’ll throw the pieces of you back together myself! I’ll gladly die trying---”

“But I don’t want you to die, either,” you fight back the tears at the thought of it, and he huffs down at you in utter exasperation, “can’t you get that?”

“Think they’ll do any better by me at Arasaka?” his chuckle is humorless, coming strained from the back of his throat. “You don’t believe that.”

“I can cut us a deal…” you look down, away from him, blinking out beyond where he stands towards the city lights. You don’t want to fight with him right now. You don’t think you can.

“With what leverage? Deals are only good so long as you have the upper hand, V,” he kneels into your eyeline, reaching out to grasp your chin in two silver fingers and turning you to face him fully. It’s gotten to the point that his hands on your skin feel akin to something real, dulled synapses firing with every spark of his hands on your skin. It’s how you know you’re close to the end. “Who is gonna’ be in your corner after they get everything they want?”

“Goro’s a man of his word.”

“You’re so fuckin’ naïve. Just as dumb as you were when you took that bullet to the brain from Dex, and I had to save your ass then, too,” Johnny growls your name like he hates you for it, but who knew how much you would come to welcome the end? Because when he frustratedly drags you forward by a harsh grip at the back of your head to eclipse his lips over yours, you can feel it. Him. In the burnt neurons of your addled mind, he is there against you--- kissing you with death on the edges of his lips, in all the heavy grief and anger that your choice has brought forth in him. It’s a terrible knowledge that pours from you into him of how much you’ve come to love him, and how desperately you know he’ll hate you for this, because maybe he’s right; maybe you really are naïve for wanting to believe in some way out of this.

He gasps against your lips like it wrecks him to the core; voice hoarse with the emotion as he curses, “Damn, you’re one stubborn bitch.”

“Inherited only your best traits, Johnny,” it’s just as dry on your tongue, and you lift your hand that has been clutching the omega blockers to your lips. You want to say it--- tell him in words how much you care for him. Instead, you murmur against his lips, “Please, don’t be mad,” and swallow the pills.

“I got a feeling you’re gonna’ regret this, choom, and I won’t be there to help you,” he leans away, and you feel the drugs start to kick in when his voice becomes more distant. “Don’t do this. Miracles like the one you’re hopin’ for don’t happen for screw-ups like us, you know.”

“Trust me.”

“I wish I didn’t trust you at all,” he sounds just as tired as you do when he says your name one last time before you blink and he’s gone. The bitter aftertaste of the pills tastes like betrayal on your tongue, and you already know Johnny will haunt you for the rest of your days.

You’re quickly reminded of why you’ve always hated taking the omega blockers.

It takes everything you have left not to sob at the feeling, like you’ve lost a limb--- gone numb and tingling painfully with the ghost of where he was. It’s as if everything is muted, including the deepest parts of yourself. You’re in a bad way, and you know you don’t have much longer now.

So, you find yourself committing to the desperate choice you’ve made, but you don’t call Hanako.

Instead, you call the only corpo you trust besides yourself, and hope it isn’t stupid to do so.

Takemura.

---

He is dressed in all white when he comes to find you at Misty’s Esoterica, looking like a harbinger of death in every sense of the word, “You… look like shit.”

“Don’t look half bad yourself, Goro,” you chuckle, but it turns into a wracking cough that leaves you with a more urgent taste of blood at your lips.

“Are you in any shape to negotiate?” he wonders, but it’s not threatening--- more of a genuine concern displayed with the arch of his brow. Johnny may disagree with you, but you still dare to think him a good man.

“Not in much shape to do anything, anymore, but I know exactly what I’m useful for. My eddies are on Hanako knowing this, too,” you lean on the arm he offers when you stumble on your way to the car. “After all, she sent you. Smart woman.”

“I would have come even had she not,” Goro confesses, pausing with his metal-laced fingertips on the back door. When you shoot him a questioning look, he offers you only a simple, “We have done much work to not see this through to the end, yes?”

“Who’d’ve thought we’d make it this far?”

Goro nods in agreement, before you’re sliding into the car behind Anders Hellman and hoping the Swede knows half of what he thinks he does about your condition, “Agreed.”

---

There’s something to be said for dying. It’s not always as bad as people make it out to be.

Some people would consider you dead. You always find yourself wondering what Johnny would think, these days.

You absentmindedly turn the Rubik’s cube in your hand with no real aim at solving it, letting your mind drift in the overly sterile room Arasaka’s finest clinicians have sequestered you to.

“Barbaric,” Goro called it once, but that didn’t stop them from putting you right back here again. The news plays softly on the screen you’ve been allowed to have after they determined it wouldn’t exacerbate your oversensitivity, but not even the privilege of phoning what few friends you have left can eat away at the boredom that’s settled into your bones in this space station. What was there to say, anyway?

Hi, it’s your favorite lab rat again! How’s it going in the real world? I’m going insane up here!

You can’t help but dwell on the thought that maybe Johnny was right about it all. Maybe it isn’t worth living if life is going to be like this.

Arasaka made no guarantees past what you had signed for on the dotted line the day Hanako had again sent Goro solely to break the news that your body was dying even after Johnny’s Relic had been extracted from your mind. It would seem the soft spot you’d held for Goro was well known by the Arasaka heiress. The woman is nothing if not strategic.

Hell, you’d gotten yourself a worse deal that day than you’d gotten for Johnny at the start of this. After all, you’d had nothing left to bargain with by then.

You were technically a construct, now. A lab experiment dreamed up by Arasaka’s best bioengineers and a team of physicians lead by Anders Hellman. Your current body was a multi-billion eurodollar joint Arasaka-Biotechnica venture that had only been put at the top of Hanako’s list when implanting her father’s construct into Yorinobu had gone awry. You’re convinced she would have been content to let you rot on a biochip in Mikoshi for the rest of your existence otherwise. After all, your contract never said when they had to provide you with a body, only that they were obligated to when the technology existed to allow it.

Turns out, rewriting someone else’s psyche does more damage to the physical body than anyone in Arasaka thought it would. You don’t know why it was such a surprise to them all when Yorinobu’s body couldn’t handle it, considering what it did to you. Maybe they just didn’t care, with how desperate they’d been to get any semblance of leadership back.

All you know is that Johnny Silverhand probably rolled over laughing in his grave, wherever it is, when Saburo Arasaka died a second, painful death.

They were using you as a top-secret prototype for Saburo 2.0, as you’ve come to call what will inevitably be the body they attempt to stick him in next. Sure, Arasaka as a company is facing charges in the New United States on Yorinobu’s death--- something about human testing that everyone knows will never stick--- but that will be swept under the rug much like any bad press Arasaka has gotten over this past year, with either cash or bullets dispensed.

“Shit,” you curse as you grow frustrated with the cube, tossing it onto the thin hospital mattress they kept on your bed. Rubbing your eyes as you try to refocus, it still feels strange to not feel the metal embedded in your skin. Worse still, you had to get used to what a fully ‘ganic body felt like again.

“You even human anymore, with all that chrome?” you can almost hear Johnny’s words to you when you got a new set of mantis blades from Vik’s clinic right before heading out for the oncoming fight at Clouds with the Tiger Claws. It was so long ago, now, but it doesn’t feel like it. That’s what Mikoshi does to a person, you figure. It’s hard to fully comprehend that so much time has passed.

Sometimes, you think you do hear him in more than just a memory. Like he’s still there, in your head. The doctors say it will pass with time, but they’ve been wrong before. Safe to say, Johnny literally changed your brain chemistry.

At least some part of you hopes they’re wrong, because you don’t know how you’ll make it in this world without him if Arasaka doesn’t stay true to their word.

It’s like you’ve lost a part of yourself, and you regret it more every day that you’re forced to live in this white box of a test tube that they’ve put you in. You should have died with him at Mikoshi. Gone out in a fiery blaze of glory and torn it all down with you, if only it would’ve made you feel a little better right before the end.

His last words to you had been as you went under the knife, right before they carefully excised him from your brain like a tumor.

“If this plan doesn’t work, Johnny--- If you wind up being right about Arasaka---” you had called to him through the code, as it weaved and curled around his form. It created and destroyed him all at the same time, but Johnny’s frown was still clear as day to you.

“I’m right about Arasaka,” he sounded nearly as exhausted as you had been on that roof the last time you’d talked. Defeated was something you’d never expected to see on him, “See? You haven’t changed at all. Still think you can outsmart the whole world, when you’re really just out of your depth.”

You didn’t want to think of this as a betrayal, but that’s what it was starting to feel like as you marinate in his sadness, “Look… I just want us to part as friends, for now. Just in case I don’t get to see you again after this, I wanted to tell you goodbye as proper friends.”

“Not sure that’s possible, anymore,” cut you to your core.

You wanted to reach for him, through the flickering code, but you didn’t dare. Heartbreak tastes a lot like blood on your tongue, even here.

“That’s what we are, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, V. I just… don’t know.”

It was all you could remember of the interaction, though you’re certain there had to be more than that. Sometimes, when you dream instead of sleep, bits and pieces of it come back to you. That’s what you think it is, at least.

It’s far too real to be any normal nightmare.

It sounded too familiar when he said things like, “I just wish you’d stayed loyal to yourself,” or, “Those ‘Saka docs are cutting out a piece of us. Something we’ll never get back. It’ll leave a hole,” in those horrible dreams where memory emerges from the subconscious.

Perhaps this is just what you deserve. Your penance. The price you’ve got to pay for your choices, and the deal you made with the devil.

After all, nothing in Night City is ever free.

Multiple lifetimes of suffering, of being forced to go on without him? It’s almost poetic, in a Shakespearean tragedy sort of way. If this body fails, Arasaka will just test your construct in a new one until they get it right.

You’re company property and the Biotechnica cloning program is only in its infancy. Anders Hellman had told you as much himself when you’d asked.

“You’re one of the first successful cases, so far,” was, specifically, what he’d told you. It wasn’t much; Arasaka clearly wanted you in the dark.

You’d already proved too much trouble when left to your own devices, historically.

Have they brought you back before? How many bodies did you live and die in before this one? They could’ve wiped your memory of it, or maybe cut your engram into a million different pieces until something fit. You would never know the truth of what’s been done to you, most likely.

The door to your room slides open with a whirring noise, breaking you from your thoughts when the same scientist who you’ve come to understand is one of your daily handlers walks in, “It’s time for your daily tests.”

You try to not let the sarcasm drip from your tongue, but you’ve been failing at a lot of things these days.

“Always a pleasure to see you, too, Suki.”

You are dead, and this is just purgatory.

---

They eventually shipped you back to earth, “in accordance with the great progress you’ve displayed over these past few months,” as Anders had told it.

Earth was exhausting. Even though the Arasaka lab they had put you in had all the comforts of home, save for the overly-clinical aesthetics, it still took weeks for your body to become accustomed to its own weight. It was only then that you realized the space station’s simulated gravity was slightly less than that on earth, to allow for less pressure on your new joints and bones as your mind settled in. It’s perhaps why you had been able to relearn walking in the first place, because on earth you were much clumsier than you remember ever having been before.

There were bruises on your legs from the amount of times you’d tripped down or stumbled into something. You’re surprised they hadn’t yet put you in a padded room, but you must’ve been making progress, because eventually they sent a familiar face to see you again.

“おはようございます,” without translators installed into your body’s cyberware, the words that fall from Goro’s lips as he offers a slight bow take a moment for you to mentally decipher.

You don’t rightly care, because you’ve not seen a familiar face other than Anders since waking up in this body. Let alone, anything close to a friend.

He stiffens and freezes when you step forward to drag him into your arms, holding him in a tight embrace that almost has you melting against him with how much of a relief it felt to feel another person. It’s too forward, and you’d never have done it under normal circumstances---

But you’re so relieved to see him.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you,” you murmur as you release him, catching the slight tinge of a flush at his cheeks. He straightens his shirt, donned in black from head to toe. His hair isn’t pulled back, for once; it’s a little longer than when you had seen him last, “You look great, Goro.”

He seems to relax slightly at the familiar words, as if he hadn’t been quite sure what to expect of you at first. You watch as he takes you in, optics dilating as his settings switch with the distance you put between you again. It makes you slightly self-conscious under his scrutiny.

You know you look different. Sure, the core basics of yourself are the same, but you’re slimmer than you were before in this cloned body. Your cyberware is gone, as are the scars from a lifetime of mercenary work. Any tattoos you had were no longer etched into your skin, including Johnny’s. Then, there’s that new Arasaka logo brandished behind your ear that matched his own. The only good thing about your new appearance was that your hair had finally grown long enough to cover the logo when you left it down.

“You look like shit,” he cracks a smile after a second, “but it is good to see you, too.”

“What are you doing here?” you wonder as he walks further into your designated quarters, hands clasped behind his back, “Don’t tell me you get to tell a girl she’s dying twice.” He observes the room not unlike he did when he’d visited you on the space station, though seems less displeased with your living situation this time.

He doesn’t say, “barbaric,” at least.

It’s your words that earn his chastising side-eye, this time, “You should not joke. I do not want to do that again.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” the prodding does nothing to urge an explanation from him as he moves towards the desk on the other side of the room. The metal on his fingertips glints with sunlight as he moves the papers lying there--- some of the most recent status reports you’ve been given on your performance in Arasaka’s testing. A lot of it was redacted, but you were given just enough to know you weren’t dying currently.

That, they seemed to be taking as a win.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as his optics dart back and forth on the papers, reading them quickly. Surely, he’s had a briefing before he’d been sent to see you. Maybe he just doesn’t trust it was a full picture, or he wants to know what parts of it you know.

Settling into the couch, you reach for the tin of mints you’ve been hoarding recently. Popping one into your mouth, you turn it around as the fresh flavor bursts through your skin, scent sparking in your nostrils.

“Playing doctor now, Goro?” that gets him to look up from the papers to shoot you an unamused look that said just answer the question. You sigh, nail tapping the tin as you take a moment to get his answer, “Well, I’m tired and sore all the time from the physical therapy, and hypersensitive to almost fuck all. Oh, and they still won’t let me get any chrome installed--- even the minor stuff like optics.” You sigh, and the minty feeling tingles on your tongue, “Do you know how much deliberating it took for the white-coats to finally decide I was ready for an operating system update?”

“And the nightmares?” Goro turns away from the desk to instead lean on it, crossing his arms as he looks towards you. So, he had a more thorough briefing on your status than you expected.

You avert your eyes. It was bad enough having to talk to the mandated shrink about them. You really didn’t want to get into what plagued your mind with Goro.

“They’re nothing. It’s the physical symptoms that Arasaka cares about. That’s what’ll get Saburo a new body or not, right?”

He doesn’t let you off the hook that easily, “Arasaka has underestimated the impact of the mind on the body once already, at great cost. I do not think your mental state is considered ‘minor’ to your doctors and scientists, V.” After a moment’s pause, he confirms what you are thinking, “It is not considered something to be ignored by Arasaka’s board, either.”

“Is that what you’re here for?” you can’t help the irritation that seeps into your tone, “To give a first-hand report back to Hanako Arasaka and the board on my progress? Came to see the test subject for yourself instead of just reading the memo?”

“V…” his brow furrows, frown settling onto his lips as you turn your body away from him on the couch.

“Well, you’ve seen me! I trust you’ve gotten all the spicy details you need for your report on my mental status.”

“くそ,” he swears under his breath, as if exasperated with your antics. There is a stillness that comes with the silence between you after that, and you don’t dare turn to him. Instead, you focus on the tin in your hands and the mint in your mouth. Anything other than the pit in your stomach at the remembrance of the nightmares that plague you more nights than most.

There’s a shuffling of clothing and the sound of footsteps approaching as Goro comes to stand beside you, “You are… hypersensitive to words as well, it seems. Look at me, V.” You refuse to do it, and he sighs. In your peripheral, you can see him move to sit beside you on the couch, “Hanako-sama does expect me to relay your progress upon my return, but that is not the sole purpose for my visit.”

“Why’re you here, then?” it may be childish to still refuse to look at him, but you can’t bring yourself to. You feel as if nothing will be as it was before--- like even though you’ve fought terribly to return to normal, there would never be a moment when you felt like yourself again.

“You are being released.”

Your head snaps up to look at him when he says that, utter shock undoubtedly on your face. His own expression remains level, rock steady as he always seemed to be. You can see the truth of his words in his eyes; he has no reason to lie to you. You doubt Hanako would put him in a position to knowingly do so anyway.

“Released?” you breathe the word. You can’t quite believe the truth in his eyes.

“Hellman’s team has decided you have progressed as much as can be expected in a clinical setting. They think you are ready to return to a more ‘normal’ routine. I am here to tell Hanako-sama if I believe they are correct, based on what I know of you… who you were, already,” Goro holds up a hand, quelling the excitement he undoubtedly sees blossoming in your eyes. “This does not mean a return to what your routine was before. You cannot return to mercenary work.”

“So… I’m to live as a civilian, then?” you shift your whole body to face him, legs folded beneath you.

“In a sense… you will still be under Arasaka’s supervision, expected to meet every scheduled appointment and test. If you miss even one, you will be collected and returned here. There are other requirements, but I will leave those to be explained by your care team,” Goro watches as the news sinks in. He looks away, admitting, “I am maybe not the best to answer any questions you have about this.”

“Will I be staying in Tokyo?” is all you can think to ask, mind racing at the prospect of even a little freedom from this quarantine.

“At first, but I believe the goal is to reintroduce you to Night City should you continue to progress---” his words are choked off when you quickly grasp hold of his shoulders, pulling him into another hug. Just like before, he freezes, though this time he recovers enough to loosely hug you back.

“Thank you, Goro, for everything.”

---

The Corpo Plaza apartment didn’t feel like home, but it was closest to Arasaka tower and the Biotechnica building--- both of which you have to visit frequently. Well, at least it was less frequently than when you’d first been sent back to Night City, but it still wasn’t worth the constant drive from a different district.

Your fingers trace along the metal outlining your face as you glance at yourself in the mirror, having just finished a shower. The cyberware embedded in your cheeks is similar to what you had originally, though slightly different. You like it all the same, even if it had to be approved by Arasaka first. Every day you felt more like yourself, but you doubt you’ll ever be 100% you again. Too much has changed for this sense of newness to ever leave.

Even when you had reconnected with Victor, he looked at you like something uncanny. A dead woman walking. Misty could barely manage to look at you at all. Panam and the Aldecaldos had migrated; you were still waiting for her to return your call to figure out what they were up to these days. Judy was long gone, but getting out of Night City was maybe the best thing she could’ve done after everything.

Only Johnny’s old contacts seemed to remind you of who you were, and perhaps that’s because they’d never truly gotten to know you too well. Then, there was the feeling of loss that still gripped your soul. The ghost of Johnny Silverhand haunting your every thought and plaguing your dreams at night. You doubt you’ll ever be free of him. You hope he never fully fades from your psyche.

As much as it hurts, you still love him.

In hindsight, that’s probably the real reason why it would never work out between you and Goro. You’re still holding a torch for a dead man, and you’ll never be truly satisfied with anyone else.

In the end, Johnny has truly ruined you. Maybe it’s his last laugh: your complete inability to move on.

Your deal with Arasaka at the beginning had been for them to save him. To put him away into Mikoshi for the rainy day that the technology existed for a body suited for him to be a reality. The contract required them to release him into Night City after he had been deemed healthy, but you knew as well as anyone that contracts like these had loopholes even with the best lawyers pouring over them. Arasaka could truly do whatever they wanted with him once he was out of your head, other than destroying his engram.

When you had asked them the status on them holding up that end of your bargain, you had been met with cryptic answers. Hanako refused to meet with you, and you were in no shape without your combat cyberware to hunt her down yourself.

You’re terrified, honestly, at the idea of never seeing him again, nearly as much as you fear facing him.

Sighing, you step away from the mirror to move towards your bedroom while you towel-dry your hair as best you can. Tomorrow you were to report to Arasaka for your end-of-the-year testing and physical. Hellman would probably personally chastise you for the pizza you’ve ordered tonight. It was far from the approved meal plan, but it wasn’t as easy to find food that fit the diet and still tasted good outside of Japan. Finally, you understood Takemura’s issue with Night City’s synthfood.

Still, if one slice of pizza was going to kill you, you figure it’s a good enough way to go. Anything beats being an Arasaka pencil-pusher for the rest of your days.

“Night City Legend, Felled by PieZ,” the headlines would read, and it wouldn’t even mention the billions you’d cost Arasaka if you died.

Water drips down your jaw and you wipe it away with the towel before tossing it into the hamper. Scooping up an oversized sweatshirt that screamed support for the debut album of SAMURAI, it soaks up the few water droplets you’ve missed when drying and effectively covers the dog tags against your chest. Looking down at the hamper, you wish that Arasaka would sign off on you having a pet finally. Nibbles was doing fine at Victor’s, but you missed that furless cat.

The sound of your holo ringing is accompanied by Goro’s face flashing in your caller ID, and you pick up after a few moments, “Yo?”

“こんばんは,” Goro appears with his hair pulled up into a bun, and you could’ve been fooled that it was the old days if not for the few extra gray hairs he seemed to have now. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“What? You worried I’ll disappoint?” you roll your eyes at his pointed look. “You know I’m doing great now, practically would be back to my old self if they’d ever let me get my combat cyberwear.”

“And you know that Arasaka has invested too much in you for you to involve yourself in a Night City street fight. Do not think they will approve all your requests tomorrow, V, regardless of your progress,” he speaks reasonably, and maybe that’s what grinds your gears the most. You know good and well that Arasaka has everything riding on you. If you successfully keep from pushing daisies they’ll move forward with Saburo’s resurrection. Hell, maybe they already were. For their one and only living test subject, you’ve been doing relatively well, if not a little hypersensitive at times still.

“Not every fight in Night City is one you pick. What if I need to defend myself, huh?”

“Do you feel in danger? Has something happened?” Goro’s voice has an edge to it, concern, and you shake your head.

“I’m just making a point. Most folks who die in this city are just in the wrong place at the wrong time. My combat chrome would give me an edge again. Call it an investment in keeping me alive,” you snort, and Goro’s lips quirk upwards at your dry humor.

“You can plead that to the panel tomorrow after you pass all their tests. I think you should… what is the phrase? Not get your hopes up?”

“Did you call me just to bum me out, Goro?” you sigh, moving through your kitchen to rummage through your fridge and find a NiCola.

“Only to discuss reality.”

“I think you’re just scared I’ll kick your ass with all my chrome one of these days for how sassy you are,” the sarcasm drips from your tongue, and this time Takemura does sound thoroughly amused.

“I would like to watch your attempt at that, but I think you will need to remove the pizza from your diet first, V,” then, he hangs up. Never one for drawn-out goodbyes. You think you prefer it that way.

“I could’ve kicked your ass while on an only-pizza diet, once,” you grumble to the apartment around you, taking a swig of the NiCola. The ring of the doorbell breaks you from the thoughts of just how you can get back at Goro for that comment, “Speaking of pizza…”

Barefoot, you stroll towards the door, hoping the delivery guy followed your instructions to leave your food at the door. You don’t want to deal with awkward small talk with another human right now. Not bothering to check the cams to see if your instructions have been followed, you let the door slide open with a swipe of your hand against the key screen.

The door is barely halfway open when a hand catches your throat and forces you back into the apartment, a body forcing you up against the entryway wall as you choke out a startled noise under a firm grip. Terror claws at your skin as you grab at the arm attached to the hand before you manage to get a good look at him when he stills against you, breathing hard. It takes a moment for wide eyes to take in enough of his features to recognize the dark eyes staring back at you.

“J---”

“You couldn’t help yourself from being corpo scum again, could you? Selfish, that’s what this whole thing was--- what you are,” his voice--- oh, fuck, his voice, it rings in your ears in a way it never has before. Deep, familiar, and real. Strained with anger and choked with a breathless fury, but something else breaks against the fire swirling in his eyes--- some relief that settles nearly as devastatingly in your bones as his skin lays heavy and warm against yours.

You can’t believe it. You must be hallucinating. You’ve finally cracked and lost it. Something was malfunctioning in your head, certainly, because there’s no way he’s here.

Your fingertips shake as they reach out, away from the firm grip he still has on your throat, to ghost against the slope of his jaw. The scruff of a beard still remained there, but was shorter than how he had lived in your head. The scars on his face were gone, along with the tattoos on what skin of his you can see beneath the leather jacket he wears. His left hand was at your throat, and it was made of flesh and bone, not metal.

He swats at your hand when you finally touch him, a hurt in his voice that was so real that you couldn’t trick yourself into believing he was just a hallucination, “Did you ever think about what I wanted, huh, when you chose this?”

But you still can’t get past the sight of him, finally managing, “Is… it really you?”

“Fuck yes, it’s me. What’s wrong with you?”

“Johnny,” you gasp his name, nails digging into his pristine forearm, tears nearly blinding you as they well in your eyes at the overwhelming emotion that surges from your chest. You can’t hold it together, trembling against him, and only then does his grip soften at your throat.

His voice sounds devastatingly mournful as he growls in the quiet of your apartment, “You sold us both to fuckin’ Arasaka, V. Look what they did to you. You’re their property. Doesn’t it make you sick? Some things are worse than death, and I doubt ‘Saka will ever leave us to it, now.”

You hear what he’s saying. It sounds just like him, and your heart breaks at the sound. At the warmth of him, and the way his dark hair ghosts around his cheeks slightly shorter than you remember it being before. He’s really here, and he hates you.

His voice cracks, “Why are you crying?”

“I-I missed you,” you confess between the sobs, trying to swallow up the emotion. Damning yourself for not holding it together better than this at the sight of him, but it was such a shock, and only one thing could run through your mind as dreadful regret sank into your soul, “a-and now you’re going to hate me forever.”

He looks at you like he’s stunned by the words coming from your mouth, or maybe he’s shocked it’s all you’re capable of saying when you’ve betrayed him as thoroughly as he perceives.

“Shit, V,” he murmurs, reaching up to drag his thumb against your cheek and wiping away the messy tears that trailed there. He looks down at you like he’s almost annoyed at you for crying, but there’s a strange look in his eyes that you can’t fully place. “I wish it was something as easy as hating you, but I just can’t seem to catch a fuckin’ break.”

The confusion at his words nearly stuns your tears into small hiccups as you breathe, “What?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hate you,” it sounds like dread on his tongue, like fear and grief for the situation you’ve both found yourselves in. It sounds like a confession, from his lips, “I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive you for what you’ve done to me, either. I haven’t felt right without you since I woke up in this damn useless body. Feels like I should still be in yours.”

A breathless huff escapes you, almost akin to a laugh, as you realize what he’s trying to say, “You missed me, too, huh, rockerboy?”

“You’re the only thing about this damned city I missed,” he crowds you in, pressing you fully into the wall with his own body. “Not drugs, not alcohol, not music--- I came back here for you. Bein’ clean and having to put up with those ‘Saka corpo-drones has been the worst time of my life, by the way, but I did it because they said you were alive.” He looks at you, a hint of incredulousness in his eye, when he asks, “What the hell kind of a deal did you make with them?”

You’re terrified to tell him, but you can’t lie to him. Not after everything.

“I’m the reason Saburo Arasaka will live.”

Johnny curses, fury twisting his face, but the defeat is worse, “I should hate you. Fuck, why can’t I hate you?”

“I’m sorry---”

“Don’t lie to me,” he cuts you off, biting, “you’re not sorry. You don’t care if Saburo Arasaka lives or dies so long as we get to live.”

“Fine, you’re right,” anger flares in your own gut, exhausted annoyance lacing your tone, “but is that such a crime? I want to be okay again, Johnny! I want you to be okay, too!”

“And you’ll sell our souls for it?!”

“God, you’re such a dramatic asshole!” you nearly scream, slamming your eyes shut in your distress, “Go ahead and blame me for falling in love with a dead man, too, then! I should’ve known it would kill us both, but I couldn’t stop myself from loving you, Johnny! I wouldn’t have been able to go on knowing I’d left you to die, okay? That’s why I did this! Call me a selfish bitch if you want to; maybe you’re right---”

“Yeah? Well, I guess maybe I’m to blame for falling in love with a selfish bitch,” he growls, so close that his nose touches yours, and your eyes snap open just as he leans in to crash his lips against yours. It’s not wholly unlike the last kiss you shared with him, when he was just sparks on your neurons, and yet it’s entirely different.

There’s a taste to him now, but it’s not the cigarettes you had expected, but more akin to nicotine gum. Has he stopped smoking? He smells like leather and some sort of amber-scented cologne that has you weak in the knees.

But the way he kisses you is what nearly scrambles all coherent thought. He’s so warm and firm against you, the reality of his touch, tongue, and lips against yours desecrates the memory of the slight stimulation your neurons had simulated when he’d been in your head. Johnny seems to be in no better a state at the feeling of you against him, gasping into your mouth when your hands find his hair to drag him closer, and all the while all you can think is how happy you are that he is alive here and now.

It barely feels like it should be real.

He parts from you, catching his breath and staring at you with a look that sends heat rippling down your spine, flushing your skin in its wake.

You blink at him, head lulled back, and whisper through the feeling of having him back, like some piece of your soul coming home, “Fuck, I missed you, Johnny, so much.”

“You’re probably the only one, choom.”

“That’s not true. There’s Rogue, and Kerry---”

“They got their closure when I was hitchhiking in your skull. How can I just waltz back into their lives now?”

You tilt your head at him, “It can’t be that the Johnny Silverhand who was never afraid to die, is actually scared to live?”

He scoffs, leaning away from you with a roll of his eyes, “Is that the kinda’ psychobabble your ‘Saka shrink has been feeding you?”

“Could be,” you shrug, and a glint of the light at the metal around your neck catches his eye, “don’t mean it isn’t true.”

“What’s this?” he invades your space again, dragging a fingertip to loop at the chain at your neck, leading beneath your sweatshirt, and tugging it until the necklace drags into view. Dogtags clink in his hand and his eyes snap back up to yours in shock, “These--- you still have ‘em?”

Your cheeks heat with the find, and you don’t know why it’s so embarrassing even after you’ve told him that you’re in love with him. Of course you would’ve kept his dog tags. It only makes sense, but you want to defend it. The words crawl up your throat, and it takes all you have to swallow them down.

Instead, you reach up to begin to remove them, “You should probably have them back, now.”

Johnny’s hand catches yours, stilling it, “I… don’t know if I’m ready to step back into ‘em right now. ‘Sides, maybe I like the look of ‘em on you.”

You search his gaze, but he seems sure enough about the decision, “Alright. I’ll keep them, for now.”

“Good… It suits you,” a ring of the apartment door breaks you from whatever scrutiny weighed heavy in Johnny’s eyes. “The fuck is that?”

“My pizza this time, I hope,” you huff, pushing him back just enough to escape from between him and the wall. “I don’t know if I can take two of you showing up at my door tonight.”

Johnny trails after you, watching you open the door and pluck the pizza box from the ground where the delivery guy had left it as instructed, “Good news, there’s only one Johnny Silverhand.”

Turning towards him, you smirk, “Luckily.”

“Screw you.”

“You wish.”

#johnny silverhand fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #robert john linder fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 female reader insert #female reader insert #newstuff female reader insert #author meg #fanfiction #fanfic by me #nsft #trigger warning #trigger: drugs

[meshlasolus]

House Of Memories (36/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: angst, darth maul (again, a warning in himself)

Summary: After the death of Satine, it is up to the rebelled team of rogue Death Watch members to help Obi-Wan escape, but there's just one problem... you're with Darth Maul.

A/n: i don't like this, like, at all... it is 5 am and i have so much to do tomorrow and i hate myself for staying up but i gotta stay on the HoM grind bc it makes me feel like I have at least the smallest bit of control over my life... anyways enjoy this disaster of an episode i'm gonna go sleep through Independence Day

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 1.8k (yes, i'm disappointed in myself)

Obi-Wan never made it to a cell, his transfer was vastly interrupted by a group of rouge Mandalorians. They wore blue and white armor, and though he did not understand the significance of those colors, he was able to identify them as the cult called death watch. He'd had several run ins with them before, although now they seemed to be running to his aid. It was a stark contrast from his usual interactions with the group. Last time, if he remembers correctly, he was being shot at by three members, dodging the blasts and trying to get Satine to cover. She was always a stubborn one, Satine. He supposed now she was gone he may find himself missing it.

Over anyone else, he felt the most guilt, as a heavy weight on his shoulders. It tried to crush him, along with his anxiousness over your current situation. Satine had been killed, and you'd been left, alone nonetheless, with his arch nemesis, Darth Maul. He thought he was headed straight for a cell, but this coincidental clash of Mandalorians was perhaps in his favor after all.

A girl wearing the Convor markings on her helmet flew over, and when she landed on the platform, taking out a guard and ripping Obi-Wan's lightsaber, it became clear to him they this was not just a brush of the death watch, but a ploy to get him out.

She ripped her helmet away, revealing short, flaming red hair. She held a certain confidence about her that reminded him of you. You were always very sure of yourself in battle. She looked vaguely familiar, like someone he'd met before, but couldn't place.

She approached him with a sway in her hips, her smirk appearing as she inspected the lightsaber.

"I don't believe we've met; you are?" he questioned, watching as she ignited the lightsaber and helped him out of the restraints that he'd been placed in.

"I am Bo-Katan, I'm here to rescue you," she told him, taking a jetpack from her ally and holding in up to him. "That's all you need to know."

"As long as I can get out of here."

Obi-Wan turned and allowed for her to attach it to the armor he was wearing, tilting over upon receiving the weight.

"Do you know how to use this?" She inquired, raising a brow. He seemed like he was going to fall out of the sky, although he would try his hardest.

"In this case, I'll be a fast learner."

They all moved to leave, but there was a detail he was still not quite clear on. He held his hand up to grab their attention, accompanied by his words.

"Wait, we cannot leave yet," he explained, and all helmets turned to face him. Bo-Katan was confused, obviously, but stopped to listen to his reasoning. She had wanted to be in and out, close to boarding a ship by now, but Kenobi had other plans.

"Why not?" She asked, annoyed at yet another stint in her original plan. Her hands mounted her hips, as she stood by for his answer. He knew he probably wouldn't receive any help, but he wasn't leaving this planet without the thing that mattered most to him in the whole galaxy.

"My Padawan is still being held hostage in the palace. I need to find her."

He heard several modulated sounding sighs of exasperation, and he could practically feel the eyes being rolled beneath the hiding space of the helmets around him. This was a very unpopular idea, but he wasn't going to budge on it, and he doubted they would just leave him to fend for himself, since they'd risked their own lives to save him only moments ago.

"If she's in the palace, then she's with Maul."

She was contemplating it, that was evident, but her decision was made slower than anticipated. She knew about some Jedi traditions. A Padawan learner to their Jedi Master was the complete priority. She could see just by the look in his eyes that this learner of his meant even more to him than most would.

"I will not leave without her," he said firmly, and it was now she understood the extent of his devoutness. This learner of his was the only thing that mattered to him, this she could clearly see.

"Then you must find her. We can only take you so far, and though we can have an escape prepared, but the rest is up to you."

He sighed in relief, nodding his head and readying a plan in the battlefield on his mind.

"I will do what I must."

-

"You're a consular," Maul seemed intrigued, by igniting the saber that had been plucked from you upon capture. "The force made living, the wisest among the Jedi."

You had not spoken a word to him since you'd been separated from your Master. You knew that the more you spoke, the more you fed him to feast on. Your mind would not be manipulated again, and you were convinced that he wouldn't be taking any sensitive or otherwise private information pertaining to you, or Obi-Wan.

"You were wiser when the darkness filled you," he paused, and upon seeing a quick flash of fear in your eyes he chuckled darkly, realizing he had hit a nerve, but he wouldn't stop until he had severed it. "Oh yes, I can sense it... buried inside of you like you are its tomb."

You moved your eyes to the ground, refusing to show him any emotion henceforth, because as most force sensitive beings could, he saw more than most people did in even the slightest expression you wore.

"You keep it in a grave as if it is dead, but you know it is not. It waits for you to let it arise, to let it take control. It desires to give you all you've ever wanted and more, if you should only choose to accept its power. I know you've let it consume you before, don't think I missed the lovely streak in your saber blade. The markings of a healed crystal... it means that before it was there, you bled it."

He held his hand up in a fist, pulling you towards him in one swift motion. Now you stood, inches away from the Zabrak Sith, awaiting his next move. You needed to find a way out of here, this had gone on far enough and you only wished to be in the presence of one being this instant.

"Such a pretty face," he said, tracing a finger over the bridge of your nose and down to your bottom lip. He parted your mouth while watching with a narrow-eyed grin. "I can feel that the mind sitting behind it is far more interesting."

His hand moved to the side of your head, and he closed his eyes.

This was it; this was your escape. It was a half thought out plan, with very little confidence that it could actually work, but like most things you did, you refused to hesitate, not even once, before enacting it.

You opened your mind to him, giving him everything, or at least, everything you wanted him to see. Everything about Obi-Wan and the relationship you had with him, all the small details and memories you could fit into your thoughts at once.

You let him focus and dwell on those things, being so deep inside your mind that he'd forgotten all about the saber that was now only loosely clenched in his other hand. You pulled it to your hand in a moment of confidence, tearing yourself from his hold, and leaping back into a battle-ready stance. You knew you were foolish for this, and having figured out he'd been fooled, he seemed indifferent. Perhaps you'd let him see too much, things that were supposed to be for your mind only.

"I suppose I killed the wrong woman today," he reasoned, not even reaching for his saber, or the dark saber for that matter. "It seems you are the one his affections lie with..."

"How do you know those thoughts weren't just my diversion?" you were certain you could perhaps fool him again, but he was not a child, nor was he as brainless as your normal enemies. He laughed darkly, and did not even consider your suggestion, for he knew it was false.

"Oh, what a shame... Kenobi's young love shall be my dark apprentice, it will be my greatest revenge," he announced, sitting back in his throne with a shake of his head. "I've seen in your mind, he watched you cross paths with the darkness before. The pain, and the fear in his eyes was undeniable. When he sees you standing by my side, enraptured by the darkness, it will obliterate him."

"As long as he lives, my path is set. Nothing can derail me from his teachings," you stood strong, hoping to make him realize there was absolutely nothing he could do to persuade you. You didn't realize the real horror of what you had done until it was too late.

You gave Maul the most precious outlet for his vengeance, without even meaning to. You gave him yours and Obi-Wan's relationship. Now, he knew what Kenobi held dearest to him, he knew what would cause him the most pain and suffering. You were the key to it all. Even if you'd managed to escape today, he would never quit, never stop until he's satisfied himself on account of the man he hated so much.

He would have given a reply, had the glass of the roof not broken above him, falling on the ground around him as the Death Watch rebels flew in. You were thankful for the distraction and started running away to let the scene play out. They shot at him in a random pattern, giving him no time to think as he did his best to deflect the shots. You had almost reached the doors when you were grabbed from behind and lifted into the air.

You weren't afraid of heights, more so of falling, and it made you cling to your master as he took you out of the palace a moment after.

"You're late," you remarked, trying to avoid looking at the ground. It seemed irrational, considering you'd flown so many times before, however you entertained the fact that this was far different, as one sudden move could send you hurdling towards the planet's surface.

"You'll have to forgive me; I was a bit tied up."

As you saw the other members of the Death Watch follow behind you, you realized this was a set intention. They were there to help rescue you.

"I'm not very fond of this planet," you commented, turning to see the ship that could lead you off of it. This was a planned escape, and you thanked the Maker that there would be no more bumps in the road. You could not wait to be drifting in the abyss of space once again, as long as it meant you would be out of harm's way.

Obi-Wan cracked a smile at your statement, for he had just been thinking something along the lines of it.

"Trust me, I know."

-

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader

[ladyfogg]

Who Wants to be Lonely - 10/10

Who Wants to be Lonely – 10/10 (Finale)

Fic Summary: After the ground splits and sends you hurtling into the Upside Down, you come face-to-face with the notorious, and injured, Eddie Munson. Lost and hunted by otherworldly creatures, the two of you have no choice but to stick together if you’re going to find your way home. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Violence, Angst, Blood/Slight Gore, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: Who Wants to be Lonely by Kiss. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Okay, here’s the thing. I didn’t expect to have this part finished and since tomorrow I reeeeallly gotta get some work done, I figured I’d drop this now. Thank you all so much for all your comments and shares, it’s been amazing. I love this story and it makes me so happy that other people seem to love it too.

Your leg is crushed.

You’re not clear on the specifics since you are heavily drugged when you hear the doctors talking, but you know they had to use metal rods to fix it. You’re likely going to suffer permanent nerve damage as a result of your injury.

That was days ago. At least, you think it’s been days. Hard to tell when you’re in a windowless room confined to a bed. You assume it’s a hospital but when two men in suits come in and ask you questions, you realize it’s a government facility of some kind.

Fuck.

At first, you answer their questions hoping that they in turn will answer yours. But the bastards won’t no matter how hysterical or angry you get. Where’s Eddie? Is he okay? Did Eleven close the gate? What happened to all the monsters? To Eddie’s friends? To your parents?

They ignore you and walk out like you hadn’t even said anything. The next time they come in, you refuse to answer them. Fuck that. “I want to see Eddie!” you demand. “Fuck you, assholes! Where’s Eddie?”

“Ma’am, if you could just answer—”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

They stop coming. And you’re left alone in your hospital bed, listening to the monitors beeping, slipping in and out of consciousness. Your whole body feels like lead and you can barely lift your arms, let alone your head. Plus, your leg is in a full cast, suspended above the bed. You literally cannot move even if you wanted to.

Hours, or maybe days later, the door opens and a man walks in. He’s not government or military, and clearly, he’s not a doctor. He looks strangely familiar and it takes a second for you to recognize Jim Hopper.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” you ask the former sheriff.

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your bed. “So are you,” he says. “How are you doing, kid?”

You know the sheriff, having been busted for stupid shit when you were a teenager. You always kind of liked the dude but right now you’re in no mood to be friendly. “I’m not a kid and I’m not okay. Where’s Eddie? Why won’t anyone tell me what happened to him? Please, they think he killed someone but he didn’t! It wasn’t him!”

“I know, I know,” he says, patting your hand. “Eddie is fine. The murder charges were dropped. It’s pretty fucking clear what’s responsible.”

“Just like that?”

“The government can make a lot of things go away.”

You don’t doubt it. “Why can’t I see him?”

“You will, soon. We had to make sure neither of you brought anything back with you. You both were pretty banged up.”

You had noticed your bat bites had been properly stitched and taken care of. When Hopper mentions bringing something back you instantly think of Vecna. “Is Vecna…?”

“Still out there,” Hopper says with a sigh. “El closed the gate as best she could but it’s not permanent. Don’t worry about that right now. Are you okay?”

“No, I want Eddie! How many times do I have to say it?!”

From outside you hear a commotion and Hopper frowns. He gets up and when he opens the door you both hear a tired voice yell, “Ey! STOP!”

“Faster, Henderson! Her room is right there!”

Hopper rolls his eyes and steps back just as Eddie and Dustin Henderson barrel into your room. The former is in a wheelchair with the kid pushing him. As soon as you see Eddie, your heart sings and you force yourself to sit up.

Eddie says your name with relief and launches himself out of the wheelchair and onto your bed. He kisses you fiercely, so much so that Hopper says something.

“Easy there, Munson, you’re gonna suffocate her!”

“If that’s how I go, I don’t care,” you snap at him before kissing Eddie back.

“I thought I fucking lost you,” he says, peppering kisses all over your face.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, doing the same, clinging to him with tears in your eyes. “We did it.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says, drawing back with a smile and stroking your cheek. “We did it.” He looks over at Dustin. “Henderson, come here, I want you to meet my future wife.”

Dustin hugs you, which is a surprise but one you don’t mind. “He won’t stop talking about you,” the teen says. “We’ve started calling you Ripley by the way. Just go with it.”

You laugh. “I’ll take it.”

Hopper looks into the hall and his smile widens. “Looks like you have more visitors.”

Suddenly, the room is full of people, half of them you don’t know however several familiar faces make you smile. Steve and Robin lead the group and you hold your arms out towards them. They hug you close.

“We thought you were dead,” Robin says, trying to hold back tears.

“Your apartment building collapsed and the last anyone saw you was when you were headed home,” Steve explains.

“I’m alive,” you tell them. “Thanks to Eddie.”

Speaking of, Eddie refuses to move, squeezing himself onto the hospital bed with you. You tuck yourself into his side

Nancy steps forward next. “Thanks for saving our asses, Wheeler,” you say when she hugs you both. “I didn’t know you were such a badass.”

“Looks like I’m not the only badass. Thanks for telling us about the bunker. I don’t think we would have held them back without that stash.”

Just past her, you see Mike wheel Eleven onto the room. The girl looks weak but she gives you a smile as the group parts to let her through. You reach for her hand and squeeze it. Eddie does the same and she smiles at both of you.

“Nice to officially meet you,” she says.

“Thanks for keeping us safe,” Eddie tells her. “We wouldn’t have made it out without you.”

“Friends help each other,” she says. “I am glad you two are back.”

“Alright, you’ve all seen her,” Hopper says. “Everyone out. You all need rest.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere,” Eddie tells him.

“I assumed as much,” Hopper says. “Come on. El, you need to go back to bed.”

She sighs but nods, looking far more exhausted than you feel. She gives your hand another squeeze and Mike wheels her away. The others slowly file out, saying their goodbyes.

Hopper smiles at you and closes the door as he leaves. There’s a moment of silence as you and Eddie finally take the time to process what happened.

He holds you close. “They wouldn’t tell me how you were or what was going on,” he says. “I was about ready to fight someone.”

“Is that why you started calling me your future wife?” You hadn’t missed his slip when introducing you to Dustin.

Eddie grins. “Yeah. Well, I mean, it’s true but it’s also because they wouldn’t tell me where you were. I told them they couldn’t keep my fiancée from me.”

“I remember saying yes to a date,” you tell him, smiling. “I do NOT remember saying I’d marry you.”

“Too bad, you’re kind of stuck with me now,” he says, laying his head back on your pillow. “And Henderson is so excited for our wedding. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you?”

“I barely know who he is.”

Eddie laughs and pulls you into a kiss. You relax into his embrace, wishing you could wrap yourself around him but settling for sweet kisses instead. Having him there with you soothes your troubled mind. Deep down you know the fight isn’t over, but you don’t need to think about that right now. All you need to do is focus on getting better.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Wounds are all properly stitched. Also, I’m not wanted for murder,” Eddie says. “Plus, my woman is safe and in my arms again.”

“She’s also going to need a lot of surgeries and physical therapy for her leg,” you say with a sigh, staring at your cast.

“And I’m going to be there every step of the way,” Eddie says. “I’m right here, sweetheart, no matter what. I love you.”

You rest your forehead on his with a smile. “Fuck, I love you too, Eddie.”

“Cool. How many kids do you want? Also, I was thinking of an August wedding. Something small, maybe outdoors…”

“You couldn’t plan a date but you can plan a marriage and kids?”

“Hey, I’m not wanted for murder anymore, remember? I can make all the plans I want!”

He’s so happy and his grin is infectious. Laying in that hospital bed with him, you and Eddie talk for hours. About the future, about plans you want to make, places you want to see.

You’re not naïve enough to think it’s going to be easy. You know there is a long painful road ahead. But as long as you walk it with Eddie by your side, you know you’ll come out alright in the end.

TWO YEARS LATER

The nightmares never really went away.

Doctors call it PTSD, and countless therapists have tried to help you through the trauma you endured. In the end, it got easier to manage but was no way gone. How could it be when Vecna is still out there?

You awake crying and it’s not just from the latest round of bad dreams. Your leg is stiff and cramping. Slowly, you sit up and reach for Eddie’s side of the bed, only to remember that he’s not there.

Right.

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and Joyce pokes her head in. “Are you alright, sweetie? I heard you crying.”

You shake your head. “My leg.”

Nodding in understanding, Joyce walks in and immediately goes to the foot of the bed. She pulls the blankets back and starts your massages, the ones Eddie usually does. But he’s not there. Because he fucking decided he needed to go with the others to square off against Vecna.

It was a huge fight. You and Eddie have had arguments over the years but this was another level. You didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why he had to go with them. There was so much more to lose this time and you couldn’t be there, couldn’t make sure he got back safely.

You begged him not to. He told you he had to finish what they started. Not just for himself. But for you.

All three of you.

“How are you feeling?” Joyce asks as the blanket rolls off your swollen belly.

“Tired, moody, huge,” you list, trying to sit up. “My stomach is hard as a rock and I’m pissed at my stupid brave husband is off playing the hero.”

“I know how that goes.”

Hopper went with them too. Of course, he did. They’ve been gone for days, without any word or whisper of what’s happening. It’s been frustrating, to say the least.

“Come on, the doctor says you have to walk on it when your leg gets like this,” Joyce says. “I’ll get your cane.”

With her help, you’re able to get to your feet. She helps you until you’re confident you have your balance. After walking around the room a bit, your leg feels better. You’re tempted to ditch the cane but you can hear Eddie’s voice in your head.

“Sweetheart, it’s there to help. If I can be okay showing my scars, you can be okay using your cane.”

That’s something movies and TVs don’t show, the aftermath of the epic battle between good and evil. The scars it leaves behind. Physical and mental.

“Are you hungry?” Joyce asks.

“No.” You haven’t been since Eddie left. Food sounds gross, and your nerves are too frazzled to even think about eating.

“Well, you have to try to eat. Susan’s making lunch,” Joyce says as you two leave the bedroom. “I’m going to go see if she needs help. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joyce kisses you on the cheek and then heads down the hall towards the kitchen, where Max’s mom is quietly singing as she cooks.

You continue down the other hall to the other bedroom. What used to be a small cabin has been added to and expanded over the years as it became the base of operations for Team Kill Vecna (Dustin’s name. Absolutely does not have a catchy ring to it but unfortunately it stuck, just like everyone calling you Ripley).

You knock on the door and a quiet voice says to come in.

“Hey, Red,” you say, smiling at Max. “Moms are making lunch. You hungry?”

“Starving,” the girl says, turning her white eyes towards you. “How big are you today?”

Chuckling, you make your way over to her bed and sit on the edge. She feels around until you take her hand and place it on your belly.

“Big as a house,” you say.

Max frowns. “Shit, your stomach is really hard.” She pauses, feeling some more. “I don’t feel it moving.”

“No, the baby hasn’t moved since last night,” you say. “I hope they get back soon. We’re getting close.”

“They will,” Max says with confidence. “I made Lucas promise and he knows if he breaks his promise I’ll break up with him.”

“I thought you were already broken up.”

“That was last week. Get with the program.”

You roll your eyes and heave yourself onto your feet. “Come on, let’s get some lunch.”

You and Max have gotten close over the last two years. Because of your disabilities, a lot of the physical work of tracking Vecna down fell to the others. You and Max were often left behind as the backup/B team. You honestly preferred it that way rather than being in the thick of the action. But you know it frustrates Max.

In the kitchen, her mom and Joyce are serving bowls of spaghetti. You manage to eat a few bites but you’re too stressed to have more. All you can do is sit there, twirling Eddie’s mood ring, your engagement ring, around your finger. You look at it, wishing your husband was there.

The house feels so fucking empty. You’ve gotten used to the noise, to the chaos of the group that permeates the air when they’re all together. Your parents are gone, having left Hawkins after thinking you died. You felt it was safer for them if you didn’t track them down, at least not until Vecna is taken care of. Everyone else’s families also left, but the kids refused to.

Kids. They’re certainly not kids anymore. Teenagers isn’t the right word either. Age-wise they might be but mentally they’re more adult than most people twice their age.

Trauma ages you.

“Honey,” Susan says laying a gentle hand on yours. “You have to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” You’re uncomfortable. Your stomach hurts, your leg is acting up, and you just want Eddie to come back. “I’ll bring Uncle some food.”

The women don’t try to stop you. Grabbing a fresh bowl, you load it up before heading outside. Uncle Wayne is sitting on the top of his new trailer, rifle across his legs as he stares off at the horizon.

“Lunchtime, Uncle Wayne,” you say. “See anything?”

“Not a damn thing.” He sighs and lays his weapon to the side before climbing down. “How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“Wish everyone would stop asking me that.”

Susan and Wayne joined the group while you, Eddie, and Max were recovering. They, like you, we’re thrust into this scary situation with no choice. Instead of running, they stayed for their children. To help however they could.

Wayne takes the bowl from you, giving your back a small rub. “I know, we’re just worried about you. Stress isn’t good for the little one.”

“Eddie should have thought of that before he left.”

Wayne sighs. “You know why he had to go. He had to make sure this was done for you and the baby.”

Doesn’t make you any less mad. And you’re about to say that when you see something, movement on the horizon Wayne had been watching.

Someone is coming.

No, not just someone, all of them! It has to be. You’d know those silhouettes anywhere. You yell towards the house and take off running before Wayne can stop you.

It’s them. It’s actually them. They’re back!

You’re limping and not going very fast. Shit, you left your cane inside. Whatever, it doesn’t matter because as soon as Eddie spots you, he breaks from the group and runs to meet you.

Fuck he looks amazing. Wearing that damn leather jacket and crop top he dug out of the dresser “for old time’s sake”. He gathers you into his arms and you both sink onto the dirty ground.

“You’re home!” you cry. “Thank god you’re back!”

“I told you I would be, sweetheart.”

You draw away and punch his shoulder. “Fuck you, Eddie Munson!”

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“I have been worried sick about you! Running off to be a hero and leaving your pregnant wife behind! You’re lucky I love you.”

“Come here, you lunatic.” He pulls you into a deep kiss and you kiss him back, your arms sliding around his neck.

“Is he gone?” you ask when you draw back. “For good this time?”

Eddie nods, grinning as he strokes your cheek. “He’s gone. For good. We did it.”

You want to know the cost. You want to ask how everyone is but before you can, there’s suddenly a crippling pain in your abdomen that makes you cry out.

Eddie’s eyes widen, his hand pressed to your belly. “Babe! Are you okay?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah.”

“My water broke.”

What follows is a confusing cacophony of swears and yelling as the very injured group catches up and suddenly circles around you. Hopper is the one to be smart enough to haul you to your feet. He and Eddie help you back towards the house while the others rush ahead.

There’s no time to think or ask questions. Everyone’s been prepared for this day for a while now. Dustin gets on his radio, putting a call out for a medical personnel in the area, on the off chance there is one. Joyce and Susan rush to prep the bathroom, knowing that getting you to the hospital is next to impossible given the state of things. The others stay out of your fucking way because they’re smart.

Eddie is holding your hand, trying to act like he’s not freaking out but he very much is. “Alright, it’s okay, it’s going to be fine. You’re okay. Do you need anything? I’ll get you something. Shit, what am I supposed to get you? WHAT DO I DO?!”

“YOU’RE NOT HELPING!” you scream through a contraction

Joyce swoops in as she takes over for Hopper, leading you into the bathroom. “Everyone out of the way!” she orders. “Only Eddie and the moms are allowed in the bathroom. Nancy, there’s a checklist on the fridge. Get it and follow it to the letter. You’re in charge.”

“Um, I’m an adult, I can help,” Hopper says.

“Oh, that’s sweet that you think that, honey, but please,” Joyce says. “We got this.”

Susan’s filling the bath with warm water and she and Eddie help you out of your clothes. Sinking into the water helps ease some of the pain, mostly in your bad leg which is nothing compared to the pain you’re feeling now.

“What do I do?” Eddie asks Susan.

She hands him a washcloth. “You take this, run it under the cold water in the sink, and keep her forehead cool,” she orders. “Got it?”

Eddie nods, relieved to have some direction. “Alright, okay,” he says. “I got this.” He does as she instructs, carefully dabbing at your sweating forehead.

“At least you made it back in time,” you say through a laugh, which quickly turns into a painfilled yell. There was barely any time between the other contraction and this one. “Are they supposed to be this fast?”

Susan looks at Joyce after staring at her watch. “They’re only about five minutes apart,” she says.

“What does that mean?” Eddie asks. “Is that bad? Good? What does it mean?!?!?!”

“It means this baby is impatient,” Joyce says. “Might be having a new family member here very soon.”

This is not how you ever pictured any of this going but it’s happening and you have no choice. As many times as you and Eddie talked about leaving Hawkins, he couldn’t. Not when his friends needed help. And you weren’t going anywhere without him. So you both stayed.

The pregnancy was a surprise. It came out of the blue and even though you both were ecstatic, you were also terrified. Everything was coming to a head and Vecna was getting strong again.

No. Don’t think about that. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. There’s something more important happening.

You lose track of time. While you have no idea what you’re doing, your body seems to. Joyce and Susan also know what birth entails and they are able to keep you calm. Well, as calm as a person can be giving birth in a bathtub in a cabin in the woods.

Eddie is right there by your side, wiping down your face and telling you how strong you are, how much he loves you, and how he can’t wait to meet his kid.

And five hours later, when your daughter is born and Joyce is putting her in your arms, you breathe the biggest sigh of relief. She’s perfect. With a mop of hair close to Eddie’s color, she cries until Susan lays a warm blanket over you both.

Eddie is crying. He reaches out, almost scared to touch her but Joyce guides him through it, helps him place his hand on his daughter’s back.

The three of you huddle together. Someone snaps a picture, you’re not sure who though.

“What’s her name?” Joyce asks with a wide smile and tears in her eyes. She’s sitting on the floor of the bathroom, while everyone else crowds outside the door.

“Jane,” you say. “Jane Maxine.”

“It should be the other way.” You look up and smile at Max, pushing through the others, knocking their shins with her cane. “Maxine Jane. Then you can call her MJ like in the Amazing Spider-Man.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god, that’s brilliant.”

You chuckle and shake your head. Of course, your kid has to have a nerdy name. It only seems right. “Fine, little MJ Munson,” you say.

“MJ Munson,” he says with a grin, kissing your forehead. “You did good, sweetheart.”

It doesn’t quite sink in until much later how important MJ is to the crew. You never realized how much of their fighting was for her. And for other kids like her, the kids of the future. It hits you the next day when you’re in your room, watching your family pass the new bundle of joy around.

And it’s also when you realize just how much your family has gone through. No one escaped unscathed. No one.

Dustin’s eye is bandaged, a horrible cut running down from his eyebrow to his cheek. He’s already calling MJ “little sis”, promising to teach her about dragons.

Lucas’s face is swollen, his lip split, but he’s still smiling at the baby as she wraps her hand around his finger. Max stands next to him and he describes how MJ looks in detail for her as she gently touches the baby’s face.

Nancy, who physically seems okay but no longer smiles, sits with her eyes haunted by all she’s seen. Her lips twitch when MJ is handed to her and she presses a kiss to the top of the baby’s head.

Robin’s head is bandaged, covering the place where her right ear once was, a fresh series of bite marks clear against her pale face. She leans against Nancy, the older girl slipping her arm around her shoulders after passing MJ on.

Steve automatically sways with the baby, determined to hold her even with his arm in a sling. Thankfully Jonathan and Will are there to spot him just in case. Jonathan is bruised with a swollen eye. Will, pale and still trembling, his left hand tightly wrapped with gauze.

Will brings the baby over to Mike and El. Eleven is weak, so weak but determined to be there. If anyone felt the stress of Vecna’s defeat it was her. She leans against Will and Mike, the three of them smiling and cooing at the baby. Mike is using your cane for support, his leg bandaged from the knee down.

Uncle Wayne and Susan, pass MJ between them, brought together by circumstance and taking it all in stride to protect their loved ones.

Joyce sits at the end of your bed, smiling at everyone. A mom to every teen and young adult in the room, she’s been everyone’s rock even when her own sadness and trauma take over.

Hopper brings MJ back to Eddie. He smiles when he does, patting the new dad on the back, his eyes unseeing, lost in a memory of another little girl from long ago. He and Joyce usher the others out to give you and Eddie space.

Your husband sways as Steve taught him to, beaming down at the small bundle in his arms. You love them both so much. Everything you’ve been through the last two years has been worth it because you made the world safer. Not just for her but for yourselves.

Eddie brings MJ back to the bed, gently placing her in between the both of you. He’s still wearing the demogorgon tooth you gave him before he left. It’s been your good luck charm over the years and once he decided to go back into the Upside Down, you gave it to him, hoping it would keep him safe.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him, reaching over to take his hand.

He slots his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up so he can kiss your scarred knuckles. “About how much I fucking love you,” he says. “And how I’m so grateful we found each other.”

“I’m just grateful you came back to us.”

“And I’m not going anywhere ever again,” Eddie says. “You’re stuck with me, remember?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Taglist

@thirddeadlysin​ @imagine-all-the-imagines​ @ladymunson​ @nerdboylover​ @witchymoonbabe​ @fangirling-4-ever​ @sadbitchfangirl​ @endurexxsurvive​ @justtryingtobecreative​ @toobsessedsstuff​ @sweetpeapod​ @perlaluna​ @kaiscumsock​ @alanangels​ @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual​ @eddieswifu​ @kokokabana-blog​ @ruinedbythehobbit​ @persephone13​ @edenstarkk​ @xceafh​ @theres-a-lot-to-say-about-bruno​ @pnks-stuff​ @my-blood-is-maple-syrup​ @natillu​ @savagejane1​ @eg-dr3amer3​ @daughter-of-the-rain​ @orpheusredux​ @alwaystheslayer​ @metalheadfangirl2001​ @ethereal27cereal​ @naughty-koala07​ @eyeforissues​ @renaroo123​ @letlovelive21​ @anothermunsonsimp​

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #joe quinn #joseph quinn #stranger things fanfic

[orangevtae]

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy [S.Harrington x Henderson!Reader]

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Chapter 10: I Was Made For Lovin' You Babe

You don't know how much time you have been on the bus, deciding to look at the watch on your wrist, you scoffed, it has been an hour since you got inside of the reforced bus, looking out at window and you decided to take a seat on the bus floor.

Steve decided to seat by your side, sensing your nervoussness, your distressful state said to him that you weren't ready at all for another year on this madness "It looks like we can't have a normal year after the last, right?" he spoke up beside you.

"Absolutely, and to think that the closer i got to be a normal stupid teenager was Tina's party" you chuckled and got trapped on your thoughts

"What's going on inside that little head of yours, Henderson?" he asked concerned seeing you disassociate for a bit

"I'm a little bit mad, should've thrown away that thing when it could fit in Dustin's hand but...i wouldn't be capable to live with myself if i he ended up being disapointed on me" you said, voice nothing more like a whisper, so that Dustin couldn't hear

Steve looked between you and Dustin, that had been pacing back and forth a little behind you guys and he sighed, getting a little bit more closer, his shoulder touching yours now and the little contact made him feel like his hands got clammy and he cleaned them on his jeans, his stupid little crush on you it's no good, you barely talked to each other since last year and now in less than 48 hours he developed a fat crush on you and he hoped that it would dissipate as soon this all was over.

"It's cute" he cleared his troath

"What?" you asked, lost

"How even with all that shit happening again, you are worried more about your brother and those shitheads than on yourself" he chuckled a bit at that, when he comes to think of it, you always worried more about the kids than the monsters.

"Oh, hmm...yeah, someone gotta worry about them. Even being shitty what happened last year, for some reason i got even more closer to Dustin and the party, we were already, i mean, but i guess that last year brought us even more together so..." You shrugged and Steve nodded, he understood, last year while Nancy and Jonathan were after the Demogorgon, you stood with the kids, was the first of the grown ups to meet Eleven because the boys trusted you on that, on helping them, you had been with them all those moments.

"I feel like it's my job to protect these little culprits, i know them since i arrived Hawkins, went from being their babysitter to be their friends, i couldn't be able to forgive myself if something happens to them. I was alone last year on this...how can i put it? Job? " you laughed "It really took a toll on me being alone taking care of them and be, at least once, the resonable adult: Don't do this, don't do that, what are you guys planning to do? blah blah blah" he laughed at the way you rolled your eyes and smiled "But hey, you're here now, i mean, could've been worse, so thank you"

"For what?" Steve frowned

"For believing Dusty and come to help when he asked, i have no idea of what the hell is that bouding you're building with him but i can see how important it's to him to have a male figure to look up at" you smiled up at him, a mischief glint making present on your eyes "Even with those stupid dating advises of yours"

"Hey! My dating advises are on spot!" he pretended to be offended

"C'mon Harrington! They suck!" you both laughed

"Well, they never failled, so that makes your argument invalid" he shrugged and smiled yet again at you, gosh he was smiling too much around you

"I highly doubt that!" You laughed along with him and when his lighter seemed more interesting, a small smile grazing his lips, not that you were busy looking at him for noticing that, he spoked again

"Why we didn't talked after everything? I mean, kept on touch beyond the waves at the hallways? Or even before that?" he asked you, he never knew why you guys often pretended to be normal after last year

"I don't know" you breathed in "Before all of this mess, i just thought you were an asshole, to be honest, i would look you on hallways with that stupid sunglasses of yours and just thought "Such a jerk, thinking he rule all this school, King Steve" " you emphasied, left out a chuckle while Steve hissed "And the fact that you always were with Tommy H. and Carol, they were so stupid, i don't know, you guys were the cool kids, everyone knew you guys, i don't think that, at the time, we would've be friends at all. No, you were the cool popular guy and i was the nerd at the biology class" you looked at him

"Wow, i know that i wasn't a good one to make a positive impression on high school, but i didn't thought that i really was an idiot" He knew, actually, after getting beated up by Jonathan Byers and tired of being used by Tommy and Carol, that never were his friends, after he just stood there watching them write "Nancy the slut Wheeler" on the theater, he knew that he was such an ass that would just let people make what they pleased with him and after all of that, he started to simply hate the "King Steve" title, it left a bitter taste on his mouth and everytime, he just wished that he could punch his past-self.

"Yeah, you were" you said after some time, getting him out of his thoughts "But you know, i was wrong about you, i think that before that you would rather die than to help Y/N Henderson and her kids friends on a life threathening situation but now? You didn't even thought twice about coming help, build up a plan and getting ready to hit some demogorgon babies, i was judgmental at first, a little bit skeptic even, but after last year, i started to think beyond that jerk that i thought i knew. And you want to know what?"

"What?" you laughed and locked eyes

You both got lost there, his puppy like eyes boring onto yours, curiosity sparkling on them while he waited for you, your eyes wandering to his eyes to that stupid fluffly hair of his and gave him a smile at looking at his eyes again.

"I like more this Steve Harrington, the true one" you said softly

"Yeah?" he asked surprised, voice more like a whisper

"Yeah" you said again

"And you wanna know what i think?" you nodded for him to continue "That if i hasn't been a jerk trough all high school, i would've been able to get to know you better, the quiet but funny girl on the biology class that never would let Tommy H. leave without a snarky comment when he bothered you, and i would like to get to know you much more better now, if you allow me, of course"

You pretended to be deep on deep thought at that and let out a lazy smile up at him before answering "Sure, of course, but i'm saying this in advance: being with me and get to know me means that you're gonna be with these shitheads too" you pointed to the kids on the back of the bus and Steve shrugged

"I think i can handle it as long as you're babysitting them with me" he said playfully

"You have a deal over there, Harrington" You and Steve started talking about college and he was surprised to know that you didn't wanted to go to college yet, you had no idea of what you wanted to do and wanted to at least get a job and be able to be a normal person that complains about bills and their job.

After a while, you haven't noticed, but Dustin stopped to walk back and forth and had caught half of your conversation and observed the both of you. He didn't know how you guys haven't noticed, but it was there, the eletricity that Steve has talked about, he noticed how Steve's eyes wandered a little on you face while smiling, how you were playing with your fingers while invested on the conversation (an act that you did when you were nervous) and just how you inclined to each other you were.

He wasn't grossed out by the idea but he was afraid that maybe Steve would break your heart just how Jordan did, and he didn't wanna to see you on that state again, he would've to have a conversation with Steve if he really was pretending to make a move on you if he ever came with terms with his situation with Nancy and he didn't notice that he has started pacing again.

"So you really fought one of those things before?" Max spoke after a long while and you turned back to her

"Yes" Dustin answered shortly

"And you are 100% sure that it wasn't a bear?" you understand how hard is to believe in this shit, the poor girl was just throwed on that mess.

"Shit, don't be an idiot okay? It wasn't a bear. Why are you here if you don't believe us? Just go home" Dustin hissed at her and your eyes widened

"Jeez, someone's cranky. What? Past your bedtime?" and she went up the stairs inside the bus to go up where Lucas was

"That's good, just show her you don't care" you hitted Steve's leg "what?!"

"I don't. Why are you winking Steve? Stop" Dustin huffed at the older

You sighed after Steve got flustered and gave a hard look to Dustin and he stacked, he didn't liked to be the one on that stare of yours "What?"

"That wasn't cool Dustin. We are already familiar with the situation and know what we are dealing with, but she was just throwed here, you can't blame her for doubting, ok? We all are on high alert and worried, but it isn't snapping at each other that we'll handle it, alright?" you said sternelly to him

"Alright" he lowered his head, a little bit ashamed

"Good" you got up on your feet and spaned your butt and thighs from any dirt that left and looked out of the window, Steve following right after "Anything Lucas?"

Just as you shouted, you heard a growl on the distance, damn this mouth of yours, you tried to look trough the fog but it was so dense that you had absolutely 0 visibility.

"Do you see it?" you asked Steve

"I don't see nothing" he replied while tryung to look out for Dart

"You guys seein him?" Dustin asked you both and you denied "Lucas, what's going on?"

"Hold on, i've got eyes" Lucas went silent for a instant "Ten O'clock! T-ten o'clock!"

Lucas stuttered and you frantically tried to look at where it was pointed

"There!" Steve says beside you and you follow his eye sight, spoting Dart

"What's he doing?" Dustin asked

"I don't know" you said softly

"He's not taking the bait, why is he not taking the bait?" a frustrated Steve asked looking for you to Dustin

"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin suggested

"Maybe he's sick of cow" You said and locked eyes with Steve when something clicked on your head at the end of the setence, you both had the same look and hurriedly run to the door.

"Steve? Y/N? What are you guys doing? Steve!" Dustin asked desperatly as you and Steve got your bats and he felt a shiver run down his spine as you guys reached the door "Y/N, wait!"

"Dusty, stay there with Max and Lucas" you told him

"But-" he tried to argument

"We gonna be okay, i'll be right back, just trust me, ok?" he looked to Steve that shrugged his shoulders

Steve knew that there wasn't a talk back with you and he knew you could take care of yourself and knew that you would rather do it if meant a chance for the kids to run away if there was a chance.

"Okay" Dustin replied, feeling defeated

"Here, just get ready" Steve throwed his lighter to Dustin

Your grip got tighter around the base of your bat and looked at Steve that was already on the door as you got closer to him and he studied your face a little "Stay close, yeah?"

"Alright" you nodded

After that, Steve opened the door and you guys step out of the bus, Dustin closing the door again after you were already out.

You took a deep breath as you and Steve started to take steps more closer to where Dart was, Steve started swinging his bat and whistling to get the Demogorgon attention, you in high alert behind him.

"Come on, buddy" Steve whistled again "Come on buddy, come on. Humans taste better than cat, i promise"

You heard some moviment on your right and turned to the side and then you heard the same on the left, your back to Steve as he still tried to get Dart's attention while your eyes landed in at least more three of them, or four, you didn't know, you felt the hair on your arms rise, a shiver running down your spine. You tried to get Dart on your trap and end up noticing that instead you had fallen on his.

You were in deep shit.

"Steve! Watch out!" Lucas screamed.

As if on clue by the moment Lucas shouted, you pulled Steve behind you by his jacket when other one of them jumped to him and you hit it full with your bat.

Steve felt as if everything frozened the moment you pulled his jacket and hit the monster that almost had eaten him and looked at you on his spot on the dirty floor, you looked absolutely badass and that took a breath out of him at your stance and concentration. "OH MY GOD! FOCUS!"

He got up again, his back to yours as you hitted monster after monster that was trying to get to you guys to be their next meal.

"Guys! They're coming closer!" Lucas shouted again and your breath got stuck on your throath

"How many are there?!" Steve shouted to you

"I have no idea! I lost count!" You said as you hit another one

"GET DOWN!" Steve shouted and as you did as he said, his spiked bat came in full contact with one that almost jumped on you and you realease a deep breath as it fell far from you.

"We trapped!" you anounced to him

"What should we do?!" he asked desperate

"I have no idea Steve!" you replied, voice full of concern

"Steve! Y/N! Get back right now!" You heard Dustin shout alongside with Lucas and Max on the bus door, and you felt as if your blood was boiling, adrenaline rushing in your veins, head turning everywhere as more of them arrived.

"Any idea Steve?!" you asked again before hitting at one that almost got your leg

"Yeah! Run!" he said while doing the same

"How we do that without one of those things surrounding us?!" you shouted as hit another one

"On three! We run on three!" he replied

"Ok! One!" you started to count

"Two!" Steve hitted another one that was on the middle of the path to get on the bus

"Three!" You said in unison and Steve griped your hand and tuck you by his side as you started to run towards the bus. You push Steve by the hand that he was holding before one of the demogorgons jumped, it's body hitting the ground where Steve was seconds ago, you rounded it and kept running to the bus, the kids on the bus making movements with their hands for you guys to move forwards, Steve hand on the small of your back as you pratically jumped on the bus stairs with him, his back hitting your front as Dustin quickly closed the door.

Heart drumming on your ears and your breath fastly going in and out, matching Steve's which hand was still tightly gripped on yours and suddenly a sound was heard as one of the creatures tried to break the door to get inside which resulted in you and Steve to push it with your feet "Oh my fucking God!"

"Shit!" Steve cursed

"Hold that up Harrington!" you shouted to Steve above the kids shout

"What do you think i'm doing Henderson?!" he shouted back

"Are they rabbid or something?!" Max shouted

Steve let go of your hand and the spot he was to get something to block the door instead of being you guys, once he puts it there, he fastly helped you up and away from the bus door.

"They can't get in! They can't!" Lucas shouted as the creatures all around the bus were hitting against it in an attempt to get inside to get to you guys, your breath ragged and head turning to all sides, you saw Steve hit one of them with his spike bat at the try of getting inside. Dustin got to his walkie-talkie, trying to reach someone.

"Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God! Anyone!" he screamed as more of them made holes next to him "We're at the old junkyard and we gonna die!"

"Shut up Dustin!" you said to your brother as you hitted one that was trying to get to him.

He would have shouted back but you heard a loud sound come from above you guys, one of them had jumped on top of the bus, you got closer to where Max was, looking up at the open lead when it appeared above you and Max, that left out a loud scream and as you tried to hit it with your bat, the monster hitted it so hard that half of it was broken and landed on the other side of the bus "SHIT!"

"COME GET THIS!" Steve shouted as he got by your side ready to hit it as it screeched on your face but before either Steve could fully hit it or the monster could make a move, it totally stopped and looked away from you both, growled and then left.

You were so out of reaction that you didn't even noticed that the movements agains the bus stopped and silence made itself present.

"Hey, you ok?" Steve nudged your cheek with his finger, concerned look on his eyes

"Yes, what-what happened?" You turned from him and looked at the kids, that looked just as distraught as you were, Steve moved to the bus door taking out what was blocking it and opened, you quickly moved to him with the kids right on your calf.

"What happened?" Lucas repeated what you asked just seconds ago

"I don't know" Max answered, eyes lost at the landscape in front of you

"You guys scared them off?" Dustin asked, looking between you and Steve

"I don't think so buddy" you answered Dustin

"No way" Steve said "I think they're going somewhere"

He turned to you and you went inside of the bus, putting the strap of your backpack over your shoulder, you saw a lonely pipe next to the stair that lead to the top of the bus and picked it up, getting back to everyone gathered at the bus door, looking confused at you.

"Let's go" you said passing them on the stairs and hopping off the bus, puzzled looks at you and you lost patience "LET'S GO! NOW!"

You shouted, voice more strong and everyone rushed to get their things, scared at your outburst.

Taglist:  @mochminnie @marmol4d4 @starhastoomanyfandoms @ren-ni @xoxoloverb @nctma15 @realmoose @yeswhatever33

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x original character #dustin henderson x reader #dustin henderson x henderson!reader #dustin henderson #steve harrington #reader insert #stranger things #stranger things season 2 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic

[kohakhearts]

shigegou for the ship game! convert me!

CRACKS KNUCKLES. MY TIME HAS COME

shigegou: ship it!

(side note: i still think i've gotta get serious about using splitdecisionshipping for them until it sticks, lmao)

what made you ship it?

actually this is one of those cases of i shipped them by proxy for ot3 purposes. i liked their dynamic but when i watched jn initially i hadn't yet done my os rewatch and i was actually pretty normal about gary oak (as a kid he wasn't really a big fave or anything and i hadn't actively watched anything but the pokemon movies since middle school so). they definitely gave that same vibe as os pallet though like the "i have a crush on you i can't deal with" so i think i liked that dynamic :p

what are your favourite things about the ship?

ok so now fast forward to the great anipoke rewatch/watch (since i'd never seen the later gens before) of 2023. i got really unwell about gary. DJFGHJFKDDFHJDK but i'd been unwell about goh from when i watched jn the year before so it was...not difficult to begin drawing parallels. i think a lot of people point out how similar the shigegou dynamic is to the early shigesato dynamic and like. that's true and valid! but as individual characters, gary and goh have so much in common. gary's whole schtick is that he travels alone. he doesn't wait around for ash to catch up to him, necessarily. he has his own ideas of what he should be doing and how he should be doing it and mr "i've already got ten badges" here sure as hell isn't a slacker when it comes to proving how Awesome and Capable he is. we never, not once, see gary working as a team with anyone until pokemon chronicles (power play is something else to me. to be clear). by his own admission in jn, he wasn't much of a team player and that's a big part of why he pushed goh so hard about teamwork and collaboration (ok. he doesn't say this so much as goh kinda figures it out and gary doesn't actively deny it. but we the viewers who have known gary oak since 1997 know enough to say yeah he kinda sucked and put people down for his own sake, this tracks). they're both very goal-oriented but in a different way than ash is. i think where ash sees other people are like, a source of insight and inspiration, gary and goh both tend to see them as obstacles (ironically, ash is the first person they each didn't see this way)

also, they both have an interest in like. catching and researching pokemon. gary obviously likes battling too, but in i think showdown at the poke-corral, oak says that gary has caught over 200 pokemon. but he also cares deeply about them all (in jp he often calls his mons some variation of "partner," "honey," "sweetie" and we see him rotate his pokemon a lot - he doesn't have just one team, he switches them out a lot!). goh has a bit of a different approach, yes, but fundamentally i think the interest comes from the same place. and there is no doubt that they both care about their pokemon.

so like. i think those qualities are probably things gary sees, but even more than that, i think he sees a lot of his own worst qualities in goh: arrogant, self-absorbed, putting himself in a position where he is so afraid of people letting him down (though in gary's case, i think this is actually more being of afraid of letting other people down than the reverse) that he doesn't even try to do things that would make him happy or necessarily improve his capabilities as a trainer/research/person in general. but more to the afraid of letting people down point...i think it seems likely that initially gary sees goh as overcompensating for a fear of failure, like he does. but that's not exacty the case with goh, and through more work together it would become a lot more apparent that his issue is actually that he doesn't trust anyone but himself (and ash, by the time they meet - but even then, there are a lot of moments that suggest that trust is tenuous at the best of times). and i think gary would see that as a challenge, too. so idk i'm rambling here but there are just a lot of directions i think you could take with them that are super interesting. gary's position as being, like, an aleady fully-developed character who had to have his big moments of upset, etc. by the time he meets goh make it interesting. lots of opportunity to delve into their parallels and approach them as two people who actually fundamentally make each other better - goh by encouraging gary's own self-awareness and empathy, and gary by pointing out all the flaws in goh's logic because he used to think the same way.

is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

it's like me and 4 other people brain rotting (actually went into the tag the other day out of curiosity and discovered that even though they have over 50 fics on ao3, only 4 aren't a polyamorous or side ship kind of deal so. Yeah) so i don't think there are even any unpopular opinions to be had except maybe that it's a good dynamic and they deserve more love </3

send me a ship!

#answered #jaystrifes #if this wasn't successful in converting you i can keep going i can get more serious #i can start pulling out screenshots and clips from the anime. just say the word. ashjdfgjhdkghjk #shigegou #splitdecisionshipping

[trashyswitch]

Just Tell Her!

Mario gets back to the house, and Luigi starts teasing him about his crush on Peach and why Mario won't ask her out. It doesn't take long for the teasing to turn into tickles.

@theybibsxi insisted I upload this fanfic. So, I'm uploading the fanfic...using my old Chromebook from high school, because my laptop clunked out on me! >:0 How dare it commit such rudeness...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Mario got home, closed the door, kicked off his shoes and hung up his hat. He walked to the boys’ bedroom and gently pushed Luigi’s shoulder as he walked by. “Hey Lu.” Mario greeted, flipping onto the bed. 

Luigi looked over at Mario with a smile. “Hey Mario. How was your date?” He asked casually.

Mario rolled his eyes. “Again, it wasn’t a date.” Mario reminded him. “But it was good.” 

Luigi chuckled. “What would you like me to call it?” Luigi asked. 

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.” Mario admitted, struggling to think. 

Luigi smirked. “Then it was a date.” Luigi replied proudly. 

Mario groaned. “It was NOT a date. We don’t…” Mario tried to think of how to word things. “We don’t…like each other that way.” Mario tried to tell him. 

Luigi pointed to the side. “Well, that’s not really true. You really like her.” Luigi added. 

“Yeah…I do…” Mario replied awkwardly.

Luigi stared at him, tittering. “And how do you know that?” He asked. 

“I…just…” Mario muttered. 

Luigi laughed. “Did you even ask her?” He asked next. 

“Well no, but…” Mario muttered. 

Luigi laughed and crossed his arms. “But nothing! The truth is, you haven’t even tried to ask her out.” Luigi said. 

“Luigi…It’s much more complicated than that.” Mario admitted. 

Luigi giggled and shook his head. “It’s really not.” Luigi teased. 

“It is! She’s a princess! She has her duties, and I have mine.” Mario explained. 

“And yet, she always tries to make time for you a couple times a week. She clearly likes you back.” Luigi told him. 

Mario rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I doubt it.” Mario muttered. 

Luigi smiled and scooted himself back towards the other side of the bed. “Well…at the very least, you gotta tell me what you like about her.” Luigi told him. 

Mario scoffed and rolled his eyes with a small smile. “And risk you blabbing Peach’s ear off about my secrets? Not happening, Luigi.” Mario replied. 

Luigi stuck out his lip like a lost puppy, and gave Mario the cutest little puppy eyes he could muster. “Pleeeeeeaaase?” He pleaded. 

Mario looked at Luigi, with slight annoyance, and slight cuteness at the same time. He let out a long sigh and looked down, giving into his brother’s childish pleads. “Fiiine.” He said. “But you speak a word of this to Peach, and I will throw you into the mushroom village and tell the toads to doggy pile you.” Mario warned. 

Luigi giggled as he sunk down into the bed a bit, before calming down. “Okay, okay.” Luigi replied. 

“So…Gosh, where do I even start?!” Mario asked with a laugh, blushing slightly. 

“How about…” Luigi cleared his throat. “What was the first thing you noticed about Peach when you first met her?” Luigi asked. 

Mario thought for a moment and looked down. “Well…The first thing she did was throw me to the ground.” Mario admitted. 

Luigi was taken aback. “I’m sorry, WHAHAT?!” Luigi bursted out laughing, slapping the bed. “Shehe did WHAT?!” 

Mario rolled his eyes. “I had reached out for help from Peach…and honestly, she reached out too…We touched hands for only a moment…” Mario said, recalling the feeling of relief he felt about seeing her. Then he chuckled and shook his head. “Only for her to throw me down onto the floor in one go…” Mario explained. 

Luigi cackled, clapping his hands in front of him. “Ohohokay! Fast forward to later on.” Luigi said. 

Mario smiled and started to remember the obstacle course. “Peach got me to do an obstacle course to ‘see what I’m made of’.” Mario told him. “And before giving me a chance to try, Peach made sure to show me how it’s done.” Mario told him. “And HOLY-” Mario held his forehead. “It was INSANE! She did flips, wall-jumps, summersaults-” Mario grabbed Luigi’s shoulder. “SHE LEAPT BETWEEN MOVING BULLET BILLS THAT FLEW BACKWARDS, AND THEN SPUN AROUND THE FLAGPOLE MULTIPLE TIMES BEFORE USING HER DRESS AS A PARACHUTE to soar back down!” Mario shouted, looking like he was going to burst. 

Luigi let out genuine giggles as he appreciated and admired the excitement on his brother’s face. 

“It was SO COOL! And…” Mario groaned. “I made myself look like a complete fool several times in front of her.” Mario admitted. “And the crazy part?” Mario lowered his arm down with a small smile. “She didn’t care about any of my embarrassing moments.” Mario told him. “She was humble…she didn’t even care that I didn’t fully pass the obstacle course.” Mario added. “She…was just really happy that I got as far as I did.” Mario said. 

Luigi smiled and listened. “Aww…” 

“Even if I got eaten by a metal piranha plant at the very end…” Mario muttered. 

Luigi wheezed and laughed at him. “Gohosh, that sounds painful.” Luigi reacted. “But also really funny.” He added. 

Mario smiled and looked at the floor. “And that was when my part of the adventure began.” Mario told him. “And we’ve only gotten closer ever since.” he added, blushing a little bit more. 

Luigi smirked. “Which is why it’s absolutely ludicrous that you’re refusing to ask her out.” Luigi teased, poking his side. 

Mario yelped and hugged himself with his arms, letting out a low growl. “Shut up.” Mario muttered. 

“Not until you tell her how you feel.” Luigi teased, poking his belly. 

Mario jumped again and shot Luigi a glare. “Stop poking me.” He warned. 

“Why?” Luigi teased next, poking his side. 

“Behecause it’s not helping!” Mario replied. 

“Is it nerves? Are you nervous about her reaction?” Luigi asked, placing his hand on the bed. 

“Well…Isn’t anyone in this situation?” Mario asked. 

“Well yeah…But whether you do it or not, is where it changes.” Luigi added. “You could choose to never know whether she likes you and remain friends with her…” Luigi looked at Mario with a smirk on his face as he began poking Mario’s left side and belly. “Or you can actually try to move past the anxiety and tell her how you feel.” Luigi declared. 

Mario yelped and jumped as a wobbly smile slowly filled his face. “Nohoho wahahay!” Mario protested. 

“Or…” Luigi moved himself onto his knees and started poking Mario’s side and belly with both fingers at a much faster pace. “I could tickle the nerves out of you and convince you to tell her how you actually feel.” Luigi offered. 

Mario yelped and tittered, struggling to bat at Luigi’s hands. “Noho! Luihihigi STAHAP!” Mario yelled. “Whahat gohood’s thahat gohonna do?!” Mario asked. 

Luigi giggled. “I’m glad you asked.” He picked up Mario and gently pushed him onto his back before tickling his belly and sides. “You see, nerves have this weird ability to alert the brain of discomfort in the stomach area when people are nervous or anxious.” Luigi told him. “It’s called ‘butterflies’, because people can best describe the strange feeling like ‘butterfly wings fluttering around in your tummy’.” Luigi explained. 

“Thahahat ihis NOHOT TRUHUHUE!” Mario argued. 

Luigi shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe not…but it also hasn’t been disproven yet.” Luigi added with a wink. 

Mario only continued to wiggle his arms around and laugh while his brother attacked his ticklish stomach, sides, and occasional ribs. 

“Anyway, there is only one way to get these silly butterfly feelings to go away. And that is to tickle the person in their belly. This helps distract the brain with new ticklish feelings rather than focusing on the unusual discomfort.” Luigi explained like a doctor, or a psychologist. 

“Quihihit mahaking stuhuhuhuff uhuhuhup!” Mario ordered. 

“Again, hasn’t really been disproven. All facts are considered true until proven false.” Luigi added. “Anyway…the discomfort from the anxiety soon begins to change into what I call ‘tickly euphoria’. The brain is too focused on processing the jumpy tickly feelings, thus making the discomfort slowly go away.” Luigi explained. “But never stop too soon…” Luigi warned, pausing his tickle attack.

Mario’s giggles and laughter lessened to breathless giggles as he laid there on the bed. “Because the butterflies will only come back to haunt the anxious victim once again.” Luigi explained. 

And…He was right. The butterfly feeling quickly filled his stomach once again. But…it wasn’t because of the nervousness about telling Peach…These stomach butterflies were from the embarrassment of being tickled by his brother. 

Luigi smirked. “Was I right? Are the butterflies coming back?” Luigi asked, booping Mario’s nose. 

Mario yelped and held his nose, before glaring at Luigi with a deepening blush on his face. “N-No…” Mario replied, not at all confident in his answer. 

“Then why is your belly all red?” Luigi asked, lifting up Mario’s shirt and poking his belly lightly. 

Mario yelped and shivered as the cool air filled his belly, causing goosebumps on his stomach…Followed by a squeak from Mario due to Luigi’s little poke. “B-Because you’re embarrassing me!” Mario reacted, grabbing Luigi’s wrists and holding them out so they couldn’t get any closer to Mario’s exposed belly.

“Funny…” Luigi started wiggling his fingers, making Mario’s blush darken. “Butterflies from ticklishness is not something I had considered in my years of studies.” Luigi teased. 

Mario growled. “STOP!” Mario yelled. 

“Well now, I have to try this out! Does tickling also cure the butterflies resulting from vulnerable, tickly embarrassment?” Luigi asked. 

Mario glared at him. “One more finger on my belly…” Mario warned. “And I will throw you to the bed and obliterate you with my fingers.” Mario threatened. 

“Ooohohooo! A threat?” Luigi teased. 

“Nope!” Mario smirked and brought his face closer to Luigi. “A big. Fat. Promise.” Mario spat back. 

Luigi nodded his head, showing some astonishment. “Okay…” Luigi replied. “Alright.” He said next. 

…And then Luigi took in a quick, large breath before bending over at lightning speed and unloading the STRONGEST raspberry he could muster, right onto Mario’s exposed belly. 

Mario gasped with shock and SCREAMED with newfound laughter! “AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHA LUIHIHIHIGIIIII!” Mario shouted as loud as he could. The poor man had to let go of Luigi’s wrists so he could attempt to push Luigi’s head off his belly. But the sudden raspberry had completely weakened him, rendering his muscles completely useless for self-defense. 

Luigi lifted his head up and looked at Mario with a shit-eating grin, before taking in a deep breath and unloading yet ANOTHER raspberry onto his poor brother. “PPPPBBBBFFFBFFFBBBBFBBFFBB!” Luigi let out. 

“AAAAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHA! FAHANCULO! FAHAHAHANCUHUHULOHOHO!” Mario shouted at him. 

Luigi lost control of himself, and accidentally tittered into Mario’s belly near the end of his raspberry breath. This put a puff of air against Mario’s belly, which made the man squeal and curl up, letting out a few squeaky giggles in the process. 

Luigi looked up at Mario, and quickly noticed this change in laughter. “What was that?” Luigi asked. 

“Ahare you dohohone?” Mario asked. 

“No, I’m not. What was that laugh?” Luigi asked. 

“Ihit was nothing.” Mario tried to tell him. 

“It was squeaky.” Luigi reacted. 

“Uhuhuhuhhh…So?” Mario asked, attempting to throw Luigi off. 

Luigi looked down at Mario’s belly before blowing a short breath onto Mario’s belly. Mario squealed yet again, and threw his head back as more squeaky, embarrassing high-pitched giggles left his mouth. Quickly growing embarrassed by such giggles, Mario attempted to cover his mouth. But this wouldn’t quiet the giggles completely…only muffle them a bit.  

Luigi looked up at Mario, before chuckling with surprise. “Air tickles you?!” Luigi reacted. 

“Nohohoho shuhuhut ihihihit!” Mario whined, pushing weakly against Luigi’s forehead with his left hand. 

“You’re telling me that you’re so ticklish, a single puff of air can tickle you?!” Luigi asked with shock. 

Mario resorted to covering his entire face with both his hands. This was so freaking embarrassing…Why did Luigi have to figure that out?! Whyyy?! He’s just gonna use it against him! He knew what his brother was capable of! He would eagerly use this information to his advantage. 

“Peach has GOTTA know about this.” Luigi reacted. 

Mario gasped and sat up quickly. “NO.” Mario warned. What the heck did he JUST SAY?! DID HE NOT CALL THIS!? HE 100% CALLED THIS! “We are NOT TELLING PEACH.” Mario ordered. 

Luigi backed up slightly and put his hands up in arrest. “Now, now, hold on…” Luigi said. “Hear me out.” 

Mario crossed his arms, momentarily giving Luigi the time to explain himself. 

“All I’m saying is…Maybe that fact will be a good conversation starter.” Luigi offered. 

Mario narrowed his eyes at Luigi. 

“Ya know…To…to help you get your thoughts out?” Luigi offered hesitantly. “Calm ya down?” Luigi added. 

Mario softened his expression. As stupid as the idea sounds…it also makes a slight bit of sense. “...” Mario stayed silent, as he looked at Luigi…before looking at the bed. “.........maybe…” Mario muttered. 

Luigi widened his eyes. “Wait, really?” Luigi asked. 

“I said MAYBE. MAYBE it’s an idea.” Mario clarified. 

Luigi nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Luigi replied. He slowly lowered his hands back down, and twiddled his thumbs a slight bit. “So…does that mean…” 

Mario let out a huff and smiled a small bit. “Maybe…I can also work up the courage to tell Peach how I feel.” Mario. 

Luigi threw his fists in the air. “WOOHOO!” Luigi shouted. 

Mario pulled Luigi’s hand back down and covered his mouth. “Shhhh!” Mario muttered. “That’s not a definite answer.” Mario whispered at him. 

Luigi nodded his head and placed his hands down…only for him to raise up his right hand and point his index finger at him. “...So you’re saying there’s a chance?” Luigi asked. 

“There’s a chance, alright.” Mario replied. 

Luigi smiled and lowered his hand down. “Good.” He replied. 

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Luigi’s wrist and pulled him onto his back on the bed. It all went so fast, he couldn’t properly process what happened until after he landed on his back! And that was only right when Mario started poking and skittering his fingers on Luigi’s ribs and sides. “But there is an even BIGGER chance of you getting utterly wrecked by my vicious hands.” Mario warned with a smirk. 

Luigi squeaked and curled his toes as he bursted out in newfound, strong laughter. “NAHAHAhahahaha! MAHAHARIOHOHOHOHOOOO!” Luigi laughed helplessly. 

“Whaaaat? Not expecting revenge so soon?” Mario asked before spidering his fingers up the ribs to his armpits. 

“Nohoho! No! NOHO! NOHOHO!” Luigi yelled right before the spidery fingers started dancing in his open armpits. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! YEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE!” Luigi instinctively squeezed Mario’s fingers inside his armpits as he shouted with laughter. “NAHAHAT THEHERE! NAHAHAT THEHEHERRRE!” Luigi pleaded, shaking his head and chest left and right. 

“Kitchy kitchy koo! A kitchy kitchy kitchy koo! Such sensitive armpits you have, Luigi!” Mario reacted, quickly pulling his arms out of his armpits. “It would be a shame if I were to…” Mario held Luigi’s left arm out to the side with his right arm, while skittering all 5 of his fingers in the wide-open armpit. “-stop you from covering up your armpit!” Mario declared. 

Luigi howled with strong laughter as he tugged on his pinned arm. His arm wasn’t even pinned above his head! It was only being pinned at a 90 degree angle! And that was enough to drive the man absolutely insane! Specifically because he was sooo painstakingly close to covering up his armpit…but it just was not enough…

“Since we’re on the topic of crushes, I am BEGGING to know:” Mario stopped tickling and took a moment to boop Luigi’s nose. “Who do you have a crush on?” Mario asked. 

Luigi hugged himself with his arms as he breathlessly giggled. “Uhuhhh…D-Daisy.” Luigi admitted. 

“Thought so.” Mario replied. “And did you tell her?” Mario asked. 

Luigi nodded his head. “Yeah, I did.” he replied. 

Mario raised his eyebrows. “Oh wow! And how did she react?” Mario asked. 

She…” Luigi’s blush deepened as he recalled the memory. “She said ‘Is it still considered a crush if the person you love feels the same way?’.” Luigi told him. 

Mario laughed a bit at that. “So she likes you back?” Mario clarified. 

“Yeah. And we’re just taking things slow for now.” Luigi explained. 

Mario chuckled. “Does that mean you’re her girlfriend?” Mario asked next. 

Luigi smiled. “I think so.” 

Mario smiled and poked Luigi’s ribs. “Does she know how ticklish you are?” Mario asked next. 

Luigi yelped and held his ribs. “Mario!” Luigi whined. 

Mario laughed and squeezed his fingers on his brother’s side. “You didn’t answer my question.” he reminded him. 

Luigi squeaked and laughed, curling up and gently batting Mario’s hand away. “Shehehe dohohoes! Shehe dohohohoes! Nohow stohohohop!” Luigi giggled. 

“Good.” Mario replied as he stopped his fingers. “Cause you’re cute when you’re tickled.” Mario added, poking his shoulder. 

Luigi rolled his eyes and pulled Mario against his chest. “Right back at you, Mario.” Luigi teased as he skittered his fingers all over his belly. 

Mario squeaked and threw his head back, laughing his heart out. “LUIHIHIHIGIIIHIHI!” Mario yelled, cackling. 

Luigi looked up at the window, and smiled brightly when he saw what was standing at the window. He looked back down at Mario and placed Mario onto his back on the bed before blowing a raspberry onto his brother’s belly. Mario widened his eyes and cackled, closing his eyes and shaking his head as he weakly tapped his brother’s head. The man was absolutely losing his mind with laughter. And honestly…he didn’t really mind it. 

Luigi then got up off the bed and opened the window. “Hi Princess!” Luigi reacted. 

Wait, PRINCESS?! Mario shrieked and shoved his face into the bed. WHAT THE HELL WAS THE PRINCESS DOING HERE?! AAAAAAAAH! 

Peach giggled and waved. “Hi Luigi! Having fun?” She asked teasily. 

Luigi chuckled. “You bet!” Luigi replied. “You wanna help?” Luigi offered. 

Mario shot his head up rapidly with widened eyes. WAIT, WHAT?! 

“Sure!! If I’m allowed to, of course…” Peach teased with a wink. 

Luigi turned to look at Mario, who was glaring into his brother's soul. “Not. Another. Word.” Mario warned. 

Luigi smirked and kept looking at Mario as he replied to Peach. “Of course you’re allowed to tickle Mario!” Luigi replied. “I’ll even show you what tickle spots to go for!” Luigi offered. 

Peach laughed and started to run for the front door. “Be right there!” 

Luigi smiled and closed the window with a soft sigh. 

“TI UCCIDERO', LUIGI!” Mario shouted, pulling Luigi backwards by the arm and throwing Luigi onto his bed. 

“M-MARIO WAIT-”

Mario put Luigi’s arms above his head and held them there with one hand, before wiggling his fingers at Luigi. “You just made the biggest mistake of your- AAAEEEE!” Mario shouted suddenly, suddenly being picked up from behind by a pair of hands. 

“Goodness! Such anger in someone so small. I’m gonna need to fix that.” Peach declared as she started skittering her little nimble fingers on Mario’s somewhat chubby belly. 

Mario tittered and wiggled around, shaking his head as he struggled to keep his laughter in. 

Luigi rolled his eyes. “Just laugh, Mario. She’s heard your laughter before.” Luigi told him. 

“I’ve also seen how you react to raspberries.” Peach added right before she blew a raspberry onto Mario’s neck. 

Mario finally burst out cackling, kicking his feet in front of him as he laughed and squeaked at the tickly raspberries. “NAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT FAHAHAIR! NOHOHOT FAHAHAHAHAIR!” Mario shouted. 

Luigi giggled and pulled out his phone. “This I gotta record~!” Luigi teased. 

Peach giggled and kept going. “Just wait till the toads hear about this! The toads are gonna love it!” Peach teased. 

Mario was left to just cackle his heart out in his crush’s arms, dying of embarrassment in the process. The fact that he’s being tickled by his CRUSH OF ALL PEOPLE, IS SO EMBARRASSING! AND SHE’S AMAZING AT IT?!  H O W?! 

And this is how Mario dies…

From embarrassment…

#mentioned princess daisy #cute #teasing #funny #embarrassment #the super mario bros movie spoilers #ticklefic #ler!peach #switch!mario #switch!luigi #fluff #family fluff

[marengogo]

UGH!-5: JUNGKOO-GATE

Memories That Cannot Be Erased - by Sim Hee Jin  [The Glory, Pt.2 (Original Soundtrack from the Netflix Series)]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

I was going to just play the Sims, while watching youtubers reacting to “The Glory”, Anything BTS, or anything which my mind & soul might deem to be needed at the very present. Needed to feel something, what? I don’t quite know myself, maybe something that will help me finally carry on with my project? Maybe something that will make me feel happy for the time being, at this very moment? Or maybe just something that will make me feel like I can forget that there are so many thing I must remember, at least for one fucking day. Yeah, I was going to do all of that right at this very moment, and I still will, but now it will be after I’m done writing this. 

So I am here writing this because I couldn’t stop myself from doing so, because, AND HEADS-UP THIS IS ABOUT TO GET VERY GRAPHIC ✌🏾, when one is pressing to go to the toilet, they should. Trying to hold it in, is very bad for your system as a whole, same goes for throwing up or sneezing, or anything else which obviously your body has decided that “yeah no, this can’t stay here, it's gotta to go. Now”. So release myself I will, but like everything else in life EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING there is a place for such activity. When it comes to excrement, the toilet is such a place. When it comes to sneezing, opening your mouth widely into someone else’s face is not the place. When it comes to my feelings, with regards to a specific topic, my blog is one such place.

In real life, I am the type of person that cracks jokes to no end, because it makes me happy knowing that I was the person who was able to make you laugh; I love it, I almost crave it. I am the type of person who would choose friendship over romance, in the sense that if we are going to have a crush on the same human, I will step back and that is a fault, nothing to brag about, at all, because I don’t like unprovoked conflicts when your life has been a constant fight, after fight, after fucking fight, you will quickly try to veer clear of any, if you can and also I grew to be very selfish about my romantic ideal, in my head, if you really liked me like that, I shouldn’t have to compete with someone else also another fault, to a certain degree, so I’ll just keep being me, wait, and see; if we are not meant to be, I’ll be just as fine on my own, I got used to it. I am the type who is also so patient and nonchalant that, if you don’t know me, you will straight away peg me as the person you can easily walk all over, if you do know me, you will be carefully looking for ways to intelligently tell me anything, and if you love me friend or lover you know you can just come at me and we will get at it, whatever “it” may be.

Out of the many things that I am not, forgetful is one. I will remember anything: trivial, important, bad, good, numbers, shapes of clouds, you name it; I will remember it AND WHAT A FUCKING NIGHTMARE THAT IS and let me tell you, a memory like that is usually the product of a well trained self-defense mechanism process, so also nothing to brag about. I am not a person who can sit and watch seemingly innocent people take an unwarranted beating, be it physical or emotional, because I was once there myself and I wished someone else stood up for me. I am not a saint, through life experience I morphed myself into something far from actually, so I will never truly judge you, unless you ask me to, and anything else will always just be a deliberate relying of my opinion, in my blog.

So what does any of this have to do with Jikook? Hmmm … yesterday’s live, heavily highlighted how people like me, or rather, people who are not like a certain demographic in this fandom, are often not given the benefit of the doubt. It’s all so fucking guilty until proven innocent. It reminded me just how jarringly white and black many seem to be when it comes to Jikook’s relationship in general and as the gray-citizen that I am, it is alway so criminally mind-blowing that I usually have no words and just leave it at that unless being otherwise prompted or if I see someone I care about being pestered. 

Yesterday however, it specifically made me think about JK. I don’t think I’ve ever said this anywhere in my blog but I heavily relate to JK in his way of thinking, and perhaps also feeling soulwise I think I might be closer to Yoongi, but we are about to find out soon enough, which is probably why I like JM so much 😜😜😜. Because, people such as myself and JK tend to either joke or stay calm as their MO, we usually don’t speak about important things with people we don’t know/connect with, and when we do, it might look so out of nowhere, it will end up feeling “uncharacteristic” hence sounding weird, forced and scary 👻 at times.

Out of all that, there is one particular aspect I feel like JK and I have in common, which is the fact that you can't tell me what to do, at all. That is your quickest way to win a ticket at my “I think not, in fact, I will definitely find a way to NOT do what you just told me you want me to do” Show 🤡. The one very big difference I have with JK, however, is that his parents seem to have been the child's personal decisions supportive-type, whereas alas mine were not. So even though in my formative years I was a bit of a loose cannon and did everything I wanted, it was always just as long as it didn’t involve my parents. They had/have working on it, therapy, is a wonderful thing the strongest hold on me. But so … who has a hold on JK? Does anyone even have a hold on him? 

Hobi has expressed how JK is “handsome, but doesn't listen”. Yoongi has expressed how “JK might be a genius but that doesn't mean he doesn't work hard at what he does”. JM has expressed how “JK is different behind the cameras, he is actually cute, but also has a sort of manliness to himself”. Namjoon has expressed how “even though every member of BTS is important, there is no replacement for Jungkook”. Tae has expressed that “JK is the type of person who has outstanding basic talent”. Jin has expressed, with his caring actions towards JK, how even though JK is formidable, he is still a young man in a big-big world.

Very stubborn. Impossibly talented. Regrettably young.

  That is what I have gathered of JK, thus far. From what we’ve been allowed to experience through footage, from what the members have conveyed when talking about him and from JK’s “art/work” itself as fans. The one person who hasn’t had a problem in often pegging him as cute is JM. Namjoon has time and again pointed out how JK is a softie with the body of a rock, yes, but JM always attempts to point out the fact that JK in reality is just a big ball of softness, but he is then quickly “silenced” when instantly confronted with the fact that he is the “resident mochi” … we won’t get into that particular monicker today so he just ends up agreeing 😬. Why am I pointing this out? Do I think JM controls JK? … 😂😂😭😭 … Please 😑, if they are in a relationship, JM would be a lover not a ruler.

JM has a very big influence on some of the final decisions he makes, I honestly do believe that, but JK is first and foremost his own “unique” person, who however, for at least a good 10 years, had no other choice but to listen to a whole lot of other people. Control is a very big aspect of my life: I literally FEAR losing it. Reason why I am scared of trying sleeping pills, reason why I’m scared of falling asleep while on plane, reason why I don’t do drugs, but at the same time reason why UNFORTUNATELY I drink an unhealthy amount, ever since I figured out that I always remember everything i’ve done and I that I do get loose just enough not to lose myself. Basically, the second I feel like someone is trying to take “control away” from me and if I am in a position where I can I lash. 

And by that I don’t mean that Imma scratch you obviously, just means that within 3 second of the happening I would have already formulated plan A-Z in order for me to either regain the control I lost, or find ways to soothe me and give me the apparent comfort I need to feel like I have regained some sort of control I am a master at self-soothing. At that very moment, what is paramount, is knowing that from that moment on, every single decision made involving me would be made by myself and myself only. Meaning that, at that very moment, if you saw me being undecided between broccoli and kale juice, and you kindly offered your opinion, without me asking, I would most certainly feel the sudden craving for a vanilla ice-cream cone instead.

As an introvert I’ve often found comfort within my room. Is where I’ve created most of my projects, where I’ve taught myself a whole language, where I was safe from bullying, where I could allow myself to dream, where I am 100% in control. When I’m in comfort zone, I tend to not think much about what I do, even if 85.13% of the times what I do will not make sense to anybody and has made people call me “crazy”, at that moment, it made sense to me, because i decided to it, so I would quite frankly, not give a fuck. Anyways, me and my room are the main reason for the struggle people I love have when I rather stay home than go for a day out. Once I am out, I’m the light of the party; just gotta get me there 😬. 

As it just so happens, JK seems to have found one of his comfort zone in “talking” to ARMY. He maybe has an excuse to escape from whatever it is that he actually needs to be doing/thinking of, while at the same time he shows ARMY that he is alive: WIN-WIN. Reason why he drinks with us, he entertains us, does his laundry with us, eats with you, WEVERSE-living might be providing JK with a way for him to momentarily gain control while at the same time conceding it because he is fulfilling his role as idol, he is promoting things , etc without causing any causing much of any rifts in his comfort zone. So when people ask him not to drink, to go to bed, whatever it is, if it goes against what he was there for, do not for a second think he will do any of it; because in that very moment we are most likely just a part of his well constructed comfort zone.

So this should go without saying, but it is clearly NOT sticking with some people out there. When you are looking to get some reaction from Jikook as a couple, something that will give you the fix you need for the day, week, whatever, please kindly be reminded that not only their relationship isn’t confirmed, but it is also not a paid subscription show, so they don’t owe you shit. JK is not touching JM the way you want him to? JM is not with JK in the palaces you want him to? Jikook are not doing lives the times you want them to? It is all very sad and all but it also all very much sounds to me like you problem. Thus, please be reminded that there are MANY DIFFERENT TYPES of people on this sphere, and as it is hard enough to live a life as them, as me, as JK, as JM, as you, as anybody, a little bit of consideration, and “thinking before you speak” goes a bloody ass long way. 

Happy Easter, stay safe 🫰🏾💜

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo.

#Marengo Goes UGH! #Netflix Isn't Free but more Satisfying #Jikook #JK is his own person - Like I am - Like you are

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Tracy Stewart, Theo Raeken, Josh Diaz, Hayden Romero

Warnings: Use of kanima venom, paralysis, colon typical violence, character death (not steo),

Words: 2424

Prompt: @badthingshappenbingo square Poison/Venom

Ao3 link Masterlist

Don't Kidnap Stiles

---

“Wha- ow,” Stiles moves to clutch his pounding skull only to find that he can’t move. “What the hell,” he squints his eyes open to find himself completely unfamiliar with his surroundings.

Then again, Stiles doesn’t think anyone has recognized these surroundings in a very long time. There’s dust everywhere, the couch he’s half sitting on has a disgusting, torn cover that might have once been white. But time and neglect have turned it a sickly brown-gray. The walls look like they’re literally decaying right before his eyes. Paint chipping and wallpaper half torn with shreds on the floor. 

But the fact of the matter is, regardless of where he is, he can’t move. 

Which can only mean one thing.

Tracy.

What did he possibly do to piss the kanima off? Stiles tries to avoid her as much as possible outside of pack related things. There’s nothing he could’ve done. 

Where did she take him? All of the windows are boarded up, so he can’t see outside. Not that he can see all that well inside either. All of the lights he can see are busted, his only source is the natural light through the slats on the windows. So it’s daytime, that much he knows. But what day is it? How long has he been gone for?

Every horror movie he’s ever watched would heavily suggest that he should not do this. But Stiles has to face this eventually. Might as well have it be on his own terms. “Hello!” Stiles yells, “Tracy, are you here?”

She can’t be far, right? Just because he’s paralyzed doesn’t mean she’d just leave. Unless she knows exactly how long her venom lasts for. Which isn’t a fun thought if he’s honest.

“Tracy!” Stiles huffs, cool, so she just left him here to die probably. “Tra-”

“God, would you stop yelling?” Tracy appears around a corner, “it’s so fucking annoying.” The kanima crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall. “Do you need something, Your Highness?”

Your Highness? What? Stiles knows she’s not his biggest fan, but this is ridiculous. “Where am I, Tracy? What the hell is going on?” Okay, giving your kidnapper an attitude probably isn’t the best choice, but something’s gotta give. He needs answers.

“As if I’m going to tell you where you are,” she scoffs, shoving herself off the wall. Tracy stalks towards him, squatting in front of his knees, “but I guess I can’t see the harm in telling you why you’re here.”

Stiles bites away the sarcastic remark. He’s lucky enough that she didn’t get violent before. “Okay. Why am I here?” He asks, playing her little game.

“I want Theo,” she says plainly.

Stiles blinks. Then blinks twice. Was that supposed to be an explanation? Because it wasn’t. “What does that have to do with me?” He asks, carefully so he doesn’t sound rude. He’s so confused about the role he plays in this.

“Everything!” Tracy roars, snake eyes blazing angrily. If Stiles had the mobility to flinch, he would have. She shoots to her feet facing away and scoffs, “Theo doesn’t even look at me when you’re around!” 

This is a joke, right? It has to be. Stiles has seen with his own two eyes the way Theo looks at her. Because in what world would someone who looks like Theo give two shits about him with someone like Tracy in the room? It just doesn’t make sense. Does Stiles find their Alpha unnecessarily attractive and have the worst crush on him? Without a doubt. But that doesn’t mean Theo wants him like that. 

No way.

“Is this a joke?” Stiles snickers, though he tries not to. “Last I checked, Theo wanted you. He never pushes you away when you try to get close.”

The kanima whips around, “oh, but he has. You just don’t see it. I’ve tried to make it very clear that I want him. Pathetically thrown myself at him. But all he wants is you,” she seethes.

“Right,” Stiles quips, “sure.”

He never thought Tracy was the brightest crayon in the box, but he also didn’t think she was this stupid.

“He said so himself!” The kanima yells. “I asked him why I wasn’t good enough for him.” Tracy’s eyes tear up, “he said because I wasn’t you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Theo said that?” Stiles breathes out.

Color him shocked.

“He’s in love with you, you asshole. You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“Tracy, I-”

“Spare me your pity,” the kanima sniffles, shaking her arms out, “I don’t need it.” 

“But-”

“Besides,” she chuckles with a shrug, “you won’t be around much longer to be a problem.”

“What?”

No. No, no. Surely this was just meant to scare him. Tracy isn’t fucked up enough to kill him. Right?

Right?

“Goodnight, Stiles,” Tracy smirks, rushing the short distance and knocking him out cold. 

With her venom coursing through his system, there wasn’t even a chance to defend himself.

—

Stiles isn’t quite sure how long he’s been here for. Tracy has knocked him unconscious at least six times if his math is correct. And judging by how many different outfits he’s seen the kanima in, that he knows of, it’s been at least four days. Because he has no way of knowing how long he was here before he woke up the first time. Or if he’s slept more than one day after her punches. Not to mention how that many blows to the head could affect his brain. 

Tracy has fed him twice. Two times in the minimum four days he’s been here. Which doesn’t make any sense to him. If the kanima wants Stiles dead so badly, starvation is a great way to achieve that. She also gives him a bed pan when he needs to go to the bathroom. Which isn’t often and has turned very dark in color due to dehydration. Tracy is surprisingly clinical about it, like undressing and redressing him is nothing of consequence to her.

She’s gone again. And with what little light is sneaking through the cracks, it’s somewhere in the early morning.

He misses Theo. 

Stiles never thought he was allowed to do anything or ever voice his feelings to anyone but himself because of the visible heart eyes between Theo and Tracy. Or at least what he thought was obvious. But now, looking back on it, Stiles missed every time that Tracy tried to get close to their Alpha that Theo would come sit by him. Stiles assumed it was Theo not playing favorites. Giving attention to the human of his pack just as much as the others. Like he does with Mason.

But Theo was playing favorites!

And Stiles is his favorite. 

How could he have been so stupid? Exactly how long could Stiles have been with Theo if he’d only paid better attention? A couple months? A year? The first time he walked into Theo’s house asking to be in his pack? Longer?

All that time, wasted on obliviousness and pining and Stiles could’ve had what he wanted.

Theo wants him.

If only he has a way out of here. But there’s not much Stiles can do just being human and with a constant tap of kanima venom in his veins. 

Stiles’ finger twitches. 

His eyes dart to his hand, daring the digit to move again. Tracy has been gone for a while. There’s a lot more daylight coming through the windows now. Maybe the venom is wearing off. Focus, and Stiles might just get out of this. Even as a human he stands a small chance. All he needs is a little luck. 

What’s the scene from Kill Bill? Wiggle your big toe. In Stiles’ case, his pointer finger, but the concept still stands.

Move. Your. Finger.

“Ha!” Stiles cheers in triumph, his finger lifting up and down from the couch at his command. “Come on, Stilinski, keep it u-”

The front door bursts open, Tracy hastily slamming it shut and locking it. Stiles doesn’t need to be able to smell chemosignals to know she’s nervous; terrified even. And the kanima is clutching her side, breath labored. 

“Stupid,” Tracy mutters, “so stupid,” as she stumbles towards him grunting. She only makes it halfway before her legs give out and she crumbles against the wall. Tracy pulls her hand back showing it slick with blood. She winces as she presses it on the wound again.

“You’re hurt,” Stiles states.

Tracy snaps, “it’ll heal.”

“What happened?”

The kanima ignores him and growls, taking her hand off the wound again to inspect it.

“What happened?” Stiles repeats.

“Theo happened,” Tracy seethes, half lunging towards him before wincing again. “I thought I could try one last time. The pack was in the kitchen and I was alone with him in the living room.”

Stiles’ leg twitches, but the kanima is too busy telling him her story to notice. Good. Focus on yourself so that the rest of your venom can wear off. Her being wounded increases his chances of making it out of here.

“So I cuddled up to him,” Tracy huffs, “played it off like I was just scenting my pack, trying to help him feel better about still not being able to find you. And then I straddled his lap.” Stiles swallows the bile in his throat. “I kissed him. At first I thought he was going to kiss me back. His hands were on my waist and he groaned. But-” she stops, sounding choked up. 

“But?” Stiles asks, pretending like he’s hanging onto every word she’s saying. But in reality, the longer she takes to tell her story, the more time her paralytic has to run its course. He can almost turn his head. Knowing Theo has been looking for him fuels his fight.

“He asked why I smelled like you,” Tracy snarls. “Apparently I didn’t clean your stink off of me well enough when I left last.” 

Theo recognizes his scent. And is upset that he’s gone. Hopefully he and his father are raising hell to look for him.

“When I couldn’t give him a good enough answer, Theo sunk his claws into my sides and threw me off of him.” Tracy stands up gingerly and Stiles’ whole body tenses. He’s so close, she can’t scratch him now. “I ran like hell to get here. Time to finish the job. If he wants you so badly, he can find your corpse.”

Shit.

Tracy’s movements are sluggish and his limbs aren’t entirely his own just yet. All Stiles can do is throw himself off the couch and try to crawl away. A slug moves faster. Her hand fists the back of his flannel, throwing Stiles into the wall she was just slumped against.

He definitely felt that.

Numb hands brush the broken glass from his palms right as the front door is kicked in, sending it right off its hinges. Bits of wood splinters clatter on the floor followed by a vicious, loud roar. Both Stiles and Tracy recoil at the sound. The former from the mere volume, the latter out of fear.

Theo, with violently glowing red eyes, rushes into the house; Josh and Hayden behind him.

“Stiles,” the Alpha falls to his knees in front of him while his packmates subdue Tracy. “I’m gonna get you out of here in just a second, Angel,” Theo brushes hair off of Stiles’ forehead before kissing the exposed skin.

“Angel?” Stiles snorts despite himself. It’s cute and he definitely likes it, he just didn’t fully know what to expect if he ever saw Theo again.

“Yes,” Theo smiles softly, stroking his cheek, “Angel. Would you prefer Baby and Sweetheart too? ‘Cause I can do that.” But then the Alpha notices the state of him. The multicolor bruises on his nose and face from Tracy punching him. The lethargy in Stiles’ limbs. The blood on his palms. Theo’s eyes burn red again, “you’re hurt, baby. She hurt you,” the words are more animalistic in nature, Theo’s anger rising.

“Theo, I’m-”

The Alpha gets up, “Josh, help him,” he commands, seeing Tracy isn’t going anywhere with the hold Hayden has on her hair.

Even from the back you can see the authority in Theo’s posture. His stance is sure as he stalks towards the kanima. 

Josh is at his side in an instant, “I’m so sorry, Stiles.” The raiju gently grabs his hands and takes his pain, breathing life back into Stiles’ muscles and reducing the throbbing in his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whispers, eyes never leaving Theo. His palms don’t even sting anymore.

“Hayden,” Theo nods his head in their direction.

“But-” she looks unsure.

“Aww, don’t worry,” the Alpha coos, “Tracy’s not going anywhere.” His voice turns cold, “are you?” The kanima shakes her head no, so Hayden joins Stiles’ side, helping Josh get him to his aching feet. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Theo, I’m sorry,” Tracy whimpers, curling her shoulders to appear small. “I- I don’t- I’m sorry. I love you and I-”

“You took him from me!” Theo shouts in a growl, “you hurt him!”

“He never tried to do anything,” the kanima babbles, “never acted like he wanted you. You deserve better-”

“I was happy just to have him around!”

Despite the scene, Stiles’ heart warms knowing that even if he’d never voiced his feelings, that him simply being in the pack was enough for the Alpha. 

“I’m sorry,” Tracy cries. “I didn’t know what else to do. You don’t notice m-me. I’m sorry, p-please show mercy, Theo,” she begs.

“You might not want to watch this,” Hayden says under her breath, trying to turn Stiles away.

“No,” Stiles fights her hold, eyes locked on the scene. He won’t look away.

“Theo, please,” she sniffles, the Alpha all of two inches away now.

“No,” Theo snarls, claws sinking into the kanima’s throat. “You don’t deserve mercy,” he says, ripping out her jugular and tossing it aside. Theo’s in front of him before her body hits the floor. “Let’s get you home, Angel. Mason and Corey are making your favorite. Your dad should be there soon too.” 

“I missed you so much,” Stiles admits, falling into the Alpha’s chest.

“I missed you too, Angel,” Theo cups his cheeks to kiss his forehead. “I missed you too.”

Stiles chokes up a bit, leaning in to properly kiss Theo for himself. Feeling safe for the first time in a long time simply by being in Theo’s arms. 

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #theo x stiles #stiles x theo #ao3 fic #Match Writes #bad things happen bingo

[scramble-crossing]

17 and 19

17. Character you think had the best arc

Sort of Rindo, sort of Shoka

Shoka's arc is probably the best-written in the game. She's given the most backstory out of all of the new characters, and with the main antagonists of the game being her own once happy, now crumbling family, the whole narrative is perfectly suited to fleshing out her individual storyline. There's a lot of room to develop her and the writers definitely made the most of it. It's just not my personal favourite. Shoka's a good character and all, but she didn't really click for me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I think Rindo's arc is pretty decisive in the fanbase? Some people think it was done well, others think it pales in comparison to Neku's. Personally I think that subtlety in a character's arc is a good thing (I say subtlety lightly, Rindo's deal becomes pretty obvious if you're paying attention in the right places) but it's not really in the twewy spirit. Neku set a standard of heavily flawed protagonists with very clear deficits of character to the point of starting off as flat-out unlikable, and while early Rindo does teeter towards this, it feels like the writers didn't commit to it entierly. Or didn't want to. Or couldn't.

One of Rindo's biggest problems is that the medium he's in can be counterintuitive to what his arc is trying to achieve. Rindo is supposed to be a weak-willed, indecisive train wreck who constantly hoists responsibility onto others so that he can avoid the consequences of having made the wrong decision. And while this does come across, it's hampered by the fact that as the player character, you are constantly taking control of and making decisions for him. He starts to feel less like the kind of person who's incapable of making a choice, and more like someone who can and will when it really comes down to it.

I dont think his arc is bad or especially unclear. I think it can be easy to forget what his deal is supposed to be when from the player's perspective, he's been in control this whole time, even when the narrative is trying its best to tell you that this isn't the case. You've gotta look just a teensy tiny bit closer into what he's thinking and saying over what you're leading him to do.

It also doesn't help that the most obvious instances of him being indecisive or having lingering doubts are entierly reasonable. For example, it is a huge decision whether or not to trust a rival team leader who's survival depends on your demise. Really, it starts to feel more like Rindo is being understandably cautious and Fret is the one at fault for pushing him to make a quick decision based at least in part on his crush. He's not at all impartial, and Rindo doesn't push it down to the wire enough for it to be a major issue.

Also!!! The absolute biggest issue I take with Rindo's arc is that he never abuses his Replay in a way that would've made sense for an arc centered around avoiding responsibility. He's pretty much always forced to use it during situations that are out of his control because they could've only been avoided with information that he didn't have at the time. So much of the Soul Pulvis generated isn't Rindo's fault at all. It's Nagi's for exploding him with her mind or Minamimoto's for withholding his help (twice!) with the express purpose of triggering a Replay, or its because he and the others were held up by completely unforeseeable circumstances caused by Noise or other Players. Had Rindo been forced to use Replay for situations he undeniably caused because of his inability to make a decision, or even better, if he'd started to make decisions apathetically knowing that he can just go back and fix it if it didn't work out, I think his arc could've absolutely shone and even rivaled Neku's, as iconic as it was.

This has become a whole essay now and I'm sorry. The TLDR is that Rindo's arc is good, but it definitely has its faults. Some are on the part of the writers, but some are unavoidable based on the fact that he's the player character and is going to be subject to some projection that might make him appear to be more of a leader than he was in the early days of the game. It could've been better, but it's definitely not as bad as some people make it out to be.

19. Overall, do you prefer the first game's cast or Neo's?

In retrospect the second game is filled with so many recurring characters that this is a hard question to answer. Plus there was pretty even focus on the Reapers vs the Players whereas the first game was pretty solidly concerned with the core Hachiko Gang, and every other character was designed with the intent of contrasting with them in some regard (Konishi and Beat's whole mind vs the heart deal for example). It's kind of an unfair comparison since both games set out to accomplish different and not necessarily better or worse things with their casts, but in general I've got a bigger soft spot for twew1's cast over neo's. I like the Shibuya Reapers a lot. I'm literally writing a whole collection of drabbles about them being friends. It's some kind of brainworm idk

#I need to stop talking now I think #ask

[but-make-it-sapphic]

Back at it again with a tough lesbian fanfic. I have a type, I suppose. 👀 They gotta look like they could hurt me. 😅 Anyways, here’s:

Chaem from Coral Island | Cooking Up Romance

“Hey!”

A gentle nudge startled me awake. I blinked and stared down at the culprit. One bare foot—tanned and wide from years of walking around without shoes—was poised in the air, ready to strike again if necessary. I traced it upward, my gaze trailing along its owner’s muscular calf, their thighs each thicker than my head, their perfectly sun-kissed abs and biceps that looked like they could crush me in a bear hug if they wanted to.

But there was nothing playful in the way their owner gazed down at me. Their expression was set, almost stern. “You’re in my way.”

“Oh? Uh…sorry.” I quickly climbed to my feet and bent to retrieve my towel. “Are these spots assigned or something?”

“What?” Their face scrunched up in confusion. “No. This is just where I stand. I’m the lifeguard here.”

I glanced to my left down the beach, seeing only the woman in the chair. To the right, I found no one. “Uh huh. And…exactly whose life are you guarding?”

They crossed their arms over their chest, and my attention was immediately diverted to their chiseled shoulders. Muscles like that had always been my weakness.

“School is about to let out. And this beach is the place to be when you live on such a small island.”

I forced my gaze upward to meet their eye again. “Uh, Sure. Yeah, that makes sense. Well…happy guarding.”

After taking a few awkward steps away, something pulled me back: a gut feeling I couldn’t ignore. I needed to at least get their name.

“So…is there really nowhere else one could go to… I dunno, hang out?”

They cast me a sideward glance, seemingly surprised that I was still standing there. “Do you mean for the kids, or…?”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Oh! No, I mean for me.”

“Well, there’s always Fishensips for food and karaoke.”

“Oh, perfect! I love food!”

The slightest smile twitched at the corner of their full lips. “I recommend Frank’s pesto pasta. It’s the best around. There’s also Raj’s Coffee Corner right out front where most islanders go in the mornings. Their coffee is really good, or so I hear.”

So, they don’t drink coffee…

“And what’s your favorite place on the island?” I asked.

They turn toward me, their expression softening just a bit. “The hot springs, without a doubt. Nothing beats a hot soak after a hard workout.”

I swallowed hard, determined to not allow myself to imagine it. “That sounds amazing. I’ve been working so hard all morning trying to clear all these stupid rocks out of the garden and…” I trailed off, worried I might begin to ramble.

“Right. You’re the new farmer.”

“I’m Riley,” I said with a smile.

“Riley,” they repeated. Their voice was deep and a little gruff. I loved the sound of my name in their mouth. “I’m Chaem.”

But they didn’t move to shake my hand or anything. They still stood there, cross-armed, as their gaze flitted between me and the ocean.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Chaem. Could I…ask your pronouns?”

“She/her is fine,” she said. Then she chuckled. “Thanks for asking. Most people just assume. I guess the tourists aren’t used to seeing strong women.”

I hugged my towel to my chest with a chuckle. “Oh, trust me. I get it. Long hair and a little mascara and most people assume I’m a woman. Not all nonbinary people are androgynous.”

“Exactly! Do you use they/them?”

“I do,” I said with a nod. “But I wouldn’t punch someone for throwing a she in there now and again.”

Chaem nodded, amused. I dug my toes into the sand and wracked my brain for something to ask just to keep her talking. But she spoke up before I could think of anything.

“Well���I’d better get to work. It only takes a split second for somebody to get into trouble in the water. But I bet the Beach Shack has people in it if you want to chat.”

I glanced toward the little hut with a frown. “Oh, that’s all right. I…don’t really know anyone yet. But maybe I’ll see you at the Fishensips sometime?”

“Sure,” she said simply. “See you.”

"Yeah. See you."

I backed away with a wave of my hand and turned on my heel to plod off through the sand. Chaem was...direct. A little gruff. But she'd been friendy, right? I couldn't have imagined it. As I passed by, Yuri lowered the corner of her book just enough to shoot me a playful smirk. She’d heard every word, I was sure of it. Heat flooded my face and I walked faster just to get the heck out of there.

The longer I walked, the more foolish I felt. By the time I reached the cabin, I was certain that I’d been blinded by muscles and that I’d ignored every sign that Chaem had little to no interest in talking to me. I was always doing that!

But after years of all work and very little play, I was starved for attention. I finally had time for socialization. I was ready for friendship. And, if I was lucky, for love. Coming to this island was supposed to be my chance at a better life. And I wasn’t creating it by keeping myself cooped up in that old cabin. I needed to put myself out there!

So, I cleaned myself up and picked out my cutest outfit. And as the sun began to set, I made my way across the bridge and into town for some dinner at Fishensips.

Read more…

#chaem #coral island #coral island chaem #wlw love #lesbian fiction #sapphic fiction #lesbian chaem #coral island fanfic

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Friendtopia Part 4: Fuck Ferdinand!!!

It’s near evening when I return to his bedroom. It’s surprisingly empty. I take advantage of my alone time to read. The whole day, I never got any time to myself. I really need time to unwind, and I really should have thought of that before agreeing to sleep in his room. But whatever, sleepover vibes! I debate finding another empty room in the palace in case he comes back (I doubt he has a library like mine- or at all), but I figure if he does, I can just say I need privacy and search for a different room. He owes me after letting me do all the work planning this ball, and this bed is too comfortable for me to leave right now.

To my surprise, I’m still alone after a half hour. What could he possibly be doing? But you know what? I’m not complaining. It’s great to get lost in a book and have a break from self-indulgent ramblings. After reading my book, I take out a news scroll about the Philippines. It’s been more than ten years since I’ve been there, but I like to keep up to date on what’s happening. I like to know that my friends are doing a good job running things while I’ve been gone. It’s been a whiiilllee. I read a news article about…oh, no…rumors. Rumors about….fuck, no, no, no, I KNOW THIS GUY!

King Ferdinand??? He’s in Spain. We share a border. I’ve never went over there…he visited the palace. There are rumors that he’s there because he wants to oust me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, and people thinks now is his opportunity because I’m not even there. Oh, fuck, what do I do? Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Do I go over there right now? He can’t be planning to do something tonight, can he? Or tomorrow? I can still enjoy my ball, right? Oh, God, so much for a relaxing week away. Shit, and I put so much work into planning that ball.

And I know that I’ve been bitching about listening to Kuzco’s ramblings but I’ve been waiting so long for us to hang out too. I can’t just cut it short like this. If only there was a way to communicate with my friends. I wish I didn’t give up my enchantress powers so long ago.

I keep reading. He left the Philippines. Phew. Phew, phew, phew. That buys me a little time. That means I could continue my week here, right? Or should I be doing battle plans already just in case? Shiiiiittt.

I hear footsteps entering the bedroom. “Y/N? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I look up. “Kuzco…It’s King Ferdinand. I think he’s going to try to come for my throne.”

Kuzco lets out a light laugh. “What? Who is King Ferdinand? Was he at that dinner? And I’d like to see anyone try to come for your throne. You’re a total baddie bad baddie.”

I let out a smile in spite of myself. “He wasn’t there. And now I think I see why. My friends are running government affairs back in the Philippines and it says here that without me, he thinks it’s in a weak place. I mean, people assume.”

He bats the air. “Let the people talk. I mean, it’s just hearsay, right? That doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

“But it could be. There’s a very good chance that it could be. Kuzco, I’m so sorry but the day after the ball, I have to leave. I’m so stressed out. I don’t think I could spend the rest of the week here doing nothing while Ferdinand could be planning to attack.”

“You’re leaving?” he asked, looking crushed.

“I’m really sorry. I really wish I could spend the entire week here, but…I don’t think I’ll be that much fun when I’m worrying about my people.”

“I understand,” Kuzco says. “Look, you gotta do what you gotta do. But can you promise me one thing? For the next two days, can you try to forget about it and try to have fun? I know it won’t be easy, but you came here to have a good time, and if you’re only going to have the two days, I want them to be a fun two days. Then, do all the planning I know you’re good at.” He looks encouraging. “You’re going to kick his ass, Y/N. But you deserve to have fun too.” He scratches behind his neck. “Sorry for making you do all the work for tomorrow. If I knew that this was going to happen, I would have helped.”

I clear my throat.

“Done it all myself,” he amends. “Yeah. I would have done it all myself, and let you relax the way you should have been this whole time.”

“Thanks, Kuzco, that really means a lot. And it’ll be hard not to think about it, but I’ll try. For you. For us. Should we go to dinner?” We walk out of his bedroom and into the hallway. “So where were you this last half hour?”

“You’ll see tomorrow!” he crowed.

“So…you did help,” I say skeptically. It has to do with the ball, right?

“Big time,” he assures me.

#kuzco #emperor kuzco #disney kuzco

[puff-mmd]

There's one time in his life that Kaisei kissed a girl.

--

He had a friend named Hanako in high school (he had quite a few friends, she was one of many), but she always seemed a little different to Kaisei. Her eyes would linger a little longer on their other girl friends, she didn't seem to be interested when they talked about guys even though she tried to be. He speculated to himself, but of course those notions were kept to himself. He knew being that way could make some people feel differently about themselves, whether they liked it or not.

But he didn't pry, they were friends but not super close. Or so he felt, at least.

One day she asks to hang out with him after school. An odd request since again, Kaisei didn't think they were really close enough to hang out by themselves. But she says it's to talk about something important, so he agrees.

They go to a cafe or restaruant, and Kaisei approaches the subject first, asking what it is she wants to talk about. He's a little nervous since Hanako seemed her calm and cheerful self when they met up after school, but now she was more fidgety and quiet.

'She knows that I'm gay, so it can't be a confession,' he thinks. Unless she's accidentally fallen for him; it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to reject a nice girl who'd fallen for his charms. But this being Hanako, he doubted it even more.

"I wanted to ask you...How did you know you liked guys?"

She's looking at him now, her eyes giving unpoken clues as to why she asked such a question.

'I'm unsure of myself right now, and I may be like you.'

Kaisei explains that it's somerhing he's always felt. He would crush on other boys as a kid, he shared his first real kiss with a boy in middle school, and in high school he's just been more comfortable flirting with guys. Hanako listens carefully, nodding as he speaks.

"I wondered, because I thought I was crazy. When you say things like that, it makes me feel not so alone, because that's how I've felt."

The small smile on her face is infectious, and Kaisei grins too before leaning in closer to her.

He whispers, "I always thought you might be like me."

"Birds of a feather, huh?"

Hanako takes a last sip of her drink before gathering her school bag.

"It's getting late, we should probably head home."

Kaisei offers to walk her back home, and they wait at a bus stop together for a bit. That's when Hanako asks another odd request.

"Kaisei, this might sound strange but...can I kiss you?"

He looks at her rather shocked, and his face must have said it loud and clear because she followed up,

"If you don't want to, that's totally fine! I was just wondering, I've never kissed anybody before after all."

Kaisei sits and thinks for a moment before asking, "Okay, but why? You already know you like girls."

"Well, I feel like it would help me be sure. If I can't enjoy kissing a guy as pretty as you, then I know how I feel without any doubt. Plus, you won't happen to fall for me from a little kiss since you definitely like boys."

'Fair enough,' Kaisei thinks.

And so, on a muggy sunset evening at a bus stop, Kaisei for the first and only time in his life, kisses a girl.

When they pull away, Hanako blinks at him. Then she starts to giggle, before it turns into a full on laugh.

"What's so funny?" He asks, clearly confused.

"It's just, a guy who likes guys, and a girl who likes girls, kissing each other like that," she manages out between fits of laughter.

'I guess that is a little funny,' Kaisei thinks and chuckles a little too.

As the bus pulls up, Hanako stands. Before getting on, ahe turns to Kaisei, who's also stood up.

"This drops me off pretty close to my house, sobyou don't have to come with."

She kicks a rock towards him before adding,

"We can still be friends after that, right?"

Kaisei smiles at her, before reaching out to ruffle her hair.

"Of course, us weirdoes gotta stick together, don't we?"

--

I like to think even as adults they aren't super close still or anything, but they do talk from time to time. Hanako probably ended up going to college and doing something a little more average than Kaisei, but she's very happy for him when she sees his social media post about being engaged to Ciro years later.

This isn't something that takes place within the story, but just a little sidenote about Kaisei's past. I feel like it's affirming to who Kaisei is, in that he truly does only like guys but also that he is a good friend to others. He's a listener, and makes other people feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable around him.

#oc rambles #kaisei