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#not really but using the ship tags to be safe

vodika-vibes · 2 days

Note

Hi sweetheart; I've been feeling really down and stressed today and I was wondering if I could please have a female reader x Jango Fett scenario where he knows whenever she's stressed and depressed by how much chocolate she has throughout the day I.e. Chocolate Caff, or hot coco and triple choc chip cookies, and several pieces of her favorite chocolate block etc and he tries to ask her about it, but she brushes him off and doesn't want to talk about it, so he just hugs her until she responds and feels better? If you can't make it work with Jango Fett, feel free to go with whichever clone inspires you most for this. Thank you either way. 💖

An Observant Man

Summary: Jango knows his riduur better than anyone, so when she has a bad day, he knows just what to do.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 936

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm sorry you're going through a hard time right now! I hope this helps, at least a little bit. I decided to write it solely from Jango's POV. I hope you feel a little better soon.

Jango has always been an observant man.

As a bounty hunter, he has to be observant. Able to recognize the ins and outs of every place that he visits, able to determine if something is unusual or not.

It’s a talent that’s kept him alive on more than one occasion.

And it’s one of the more useful skills he’s learned over the years. Though, it’s also one of the skills that he has the hardest time turning off, even when he’s safe in the arms of his riduur.

So, when he comes home after a long hunt that turned even longer, he can’t help but take note of the things that have changed in the home he shares with his beautiful riduur.

He takes note that she rearranged the front hallway and added a bench for him to sit on when he removes his armor. He notes that there’s a new painting on the wall near the front door, likely a gift from their nephew, based on the…unique color choice.

The front hallway smells like a mix of flowers and chemicals, which suggests that she invested in some of the carpet powder to use when he’s away. So long as she doesn’t use it when he’s here, he doesn’t mind.

He quickly removes his armor and moves through the house, taking in several of the other small changes. Several items have been moved to better locations, some pieces of furniture have new coats of paint, or stain-

There’s a new blanket tossed over the arm of the couch, one made by her own hands, if he had to guess based on the color of the yarn used. Jango releases a fond laugh as he picks up the blanket and trails his fingers over the soft material.

Maybe he can talk his riduur into letting him bring this back to his ship.

He just…has to find her first.

Jango folds the blanket and sets it on the couch, before allowing his feet to lead him through the halls until he reaches the kitchen. The kitchen looks the same as ever; the same pale yellow paint, the same kitchen table and chairs, the same scent of cinnamon and apples that always fills the room-

And there, absently stirring a mug, is his riduur. Her hair pulls off her neck with a ribbon, clad in one of his older shirts, her feet bare.

She truly is the most stunning woman in the galaxy.

He leans against the door frame and watches her for a moment, a small smile on his lips. Though, slowly, the smile fades as his gaze slides across the kitchen counter.

Hot chocolate mix. A handful of chocolate truffles. The block of rich dark chocolate he brought her from Alderaan the last time he had to visit that planet. The box of chocolate brownie mix sitting, forgotten, on the kitchen table.

A bad day then.

Hopefully not longer. The idea of her suffering without him here to support her breaks his heart.

“I’m home, riduur.” He finally says quietly, and he knows that she knows that he’s there, because she doesn’t jump or start. Instead, her hand pauses from where she’s stirring her drink.

Tellingly, she doesn’t turn to look at him for almost half a minute, and when she does, her smile is painfully fake. “Welcome home, Jango.” Her smile might be fake, but the relief in her voice isn’t.

“Have you had a bad day, love?”

“I’m fine.” Her answer is absent, automatic.

“Ah, cyar’ika,” he pushes off the wall and walks over to her, slowly encouraging her to slide into his arms, where she fits against him like two pieces of the same puzzle, “I know that’s not true.” Jango folds his arms tightly around her, “Will you tell me about it?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” She replies as her hands curl into the material of his flight suit, “I’m fine.”

“Hm.” Jango’s arms tighten around her, “I’m not sure if you actually believe that, beautiful, or if you’re just trying to keep me from worrying about you.”

She shrugs and presses her face against his shoulder, “Can’t it be both?”

“I’m sure it can.” Slowly he starts rubbing her back, offering silent comfort and support. “Come on, riduur. Talk to me.”

She sighs softly, “I don’t know, Jango.” She finally says softly, “I’m just…feeling off.”

“That’s okay, everyone has off days.”

“But this has been going on for days now-”

Jango’s heart clenches painfully, “I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I should have been here to support you.”

“S’not your job.”

“It is my job,” Jango corrects, “It became my job the moment you said yes to dinner with me.” He lightly kisses the top of her head, “How about, we go and cuddle on the bed. And tonight I’ll handle everything.”

“That…doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“You’ve been carrying this burden alone for days, cyar’ika. Let me carry it for you for at least one night.”

And she sighs, and pulls back to look up at him, “I love you, you know that.”

Jango smiles softly, “Not half as much as I love you, riduur.”

Finally, a small, but genuine, smile lifts her lips and tension drains from Jango’s shoulders. Quickly, he ducks his head and drops a light kiss on her lips, tasting chocolate as he kisses her, and then he pulls back and lightly urges her towards the bedroom.

It won’t help immediately, it’s going to take time for his perfect riduur to recover, but he’s going to be there every step of the way. After all, that’s his job as riduur.

#star wars #star wars legends #jango fett x reader #jango x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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madewithangst · 2 days

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SEVENTEEN as TTPD1 songs

Welcome to the TTPD x SVT series! — Below is the table of contents along with the list of members who I believe fit best with the TTPD songs. The way I chose the songs for them doesn't describe the members but focuses solely on who fits best in the story. I hope you enjoy this angst-filled world featuring 13 dorks!

I don't have a set order for which member comes first. Updates might be irregular due to the author's real-life commitments (sadly) lol. The first blog will be released tomorrow (4/26/24). If you want to stay in the loop, please reblog this post and tag me!

seungcheol

fresh out the slammer - "i know who my first call will be to..."

jeonghan

fortnight - "And for a fortnight there, we were forever"

joshua

florida!!! - "I need to forget, so take me to Florida, I've got some regrets, I'll bury them in Florida"

junhui

but daddy i love him - "I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want"

hoshi

down bad - "I'll build you a fort on some planet, where they can all understand it, how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded"

wonwoo

my boy only breaks his favorite toy - "I'm queen of sand castles he destroys"

woozi

i can fix him (no, really, i can) - "But your good Lord didn't need to lift a finger, I can fix him, no, really, I can (No, really, I can), Woah, maybe I can't"

the8

so long, london - "And you say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment"

mingyu

the smallest man who ever lived - "You hung me on your wall, stabbed me with your push pins, In public, showed me off, then sank in stoned oblivion, 'cause once your queen had come, you'd treat her likе an also-ran"

loml - "Still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried"

seungkwan

i can do it with a broken heart - "you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart"

vernon

the torture poets department -"At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on"

dino

guilty as sin? - "They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly, I choose you and me...religiously"

PSA: This is a work of pure fiction. Any names, events, times, or places mentioned are purely for entertainment and are entirely fictional (well, except for the names of the members).

© All copyrights for the title, lyrics, and concept of this work belong to Taylor Swift. The plot and dialogue of the story are entirely original and created by me, unless explicitly stated otherwise. Unauthorized use, reproduction, or distribution of this work may result in legal action.

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the-red-butterfly · 2 days

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Not-Yet-Written-Fics Game

Tagged by @fishing4stars to reveal my not-yet-written fics.

This is fantastic actually the amount of things I have on the back burner is HUGE I'll have to pick and choose, oh dear.

For Your Life Hate Me (Twilight) As story about Carlisle and Jasper (very self indulgent) where they get kidnaped by María and forced to fight (like in Jasper's old days). To keep Carlisle alive Jasper is forced to do some not nice things that horrify Carlisle but he'll do them to keep the man who took him in safe, even if Carlisle hates Jasper in the end.

The Adventures of Young Man Henry Winchester and his Violent Grandsons (Supernatural) Henry Winchester survives his death by Abadon! And now he has to get used to modern life without his family. It is extremely painful and sometimes his grandsons are no help. The start of their relationship is very rocky but it'll eventually lead to better days. I'm very fond of this one.

It's The Ashy Taste Of Sacrifice (One Piece) Sanji and Zoro get turned into animals and (spoilers) in the end Sanji has to bear the brunt of this happening and suffer a life as a fox. The premise is silly but I promise you the contents are not. I am making this boy SUFFER and that is just a universal constant. Full of platonic friendship and hurt/comfort ✨And Zoro being a better bro to Sanji.

To Look Like Her (One Piece) And to keep up with the point before. This is a story about Sanji self sabotaging his body because he realizes that when he's sick he looks like his mother and he wants to KEEP that look. It does not end well for anyone. The Straw Hats get rightfully very pissed and concerned about this.

Mending The Tears One Spoonful At The Time (Sam Rami Spider-man) This is just a whole ass ploy to better the friendship between Peter and Harry. Harry realizes something is off with Peter when he notices his friend is ALWAYS hungry. When Harry offers help Peter's pride gets in the way and Harry has to devise ways to secretly help Peter.

Homeward Bound From The Sea (Frozen) Frozen AU where Agnarr survives the shipwreck but is lost for some years in an island until he's eventually found by a fishing-ship. He gets rescued and returned home but things are hard for father and daughters equally. Full of Agnarr!whump and everyone having to adapt to this new reality. Kind of non-verbal Agnarr in this one.

When Doriath Fell (Silmarillion/Tolkien) AU where Dior and Elured and Elurin survive BUT actually Dior did die he just came back wrong. So Dior raises his children as a feral creatures in the forest surrounding Menegroth. But Elured and Elurin sort of have to take care of their father as well because the man is not well. Of course, this thing is full of angst what did you expect?

The Price Of Freedom (Sandman) Hob rescues Dream from the fishbowl of doom and Dream thinks he needs to repay him with devotion and love (just like he did with Alianora). Surprisingly shippy but not really? HobxDream is not endgame at any rate, but Dream is convinced that's how he needs to repay his friend for saving him. Very angsty, the sky is blue, next.

Reverse 'Verse (Firefly) Another AU (of course) where instead of River being taken and brainwashed it is Simon who becomes the mortal weapon/assassin. And in turn it is River who has to take care of him and escape. Lots of sibiling feels.

I have so many, so so many, but i better not drag them up into the surface less I get tempted into working on them XD but here are some honorable mentions of ofter fandoms I have wips in: SPD Power Rangers (don't laugh), Batman, Hocus Pocus and a ton for Criminal Minds.

If you feel like asking about any of these drop me an ask and I might feel inclined to doodle something about it 😂

No pressure tags: @arlenianchronicles @slightly-crimson-tornado @bad-at-names-and-faces @loonysama @byrambles @i-did-not-mean-to

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sokkastyles · 3 months

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Hi,

Hope you are doing well.

Thank you for the answer on the Final Agni Kai. I had some questions regarding one of your favorite topics TSR.

Aang's line, "I forgive you, that give you any ideas?" which he uses when Zuko and Katara take Appa seems wrong to me in many ways. It really feels like he desperately wants Katara to forgive Yon Rah, not even realizing that its just not possible for Katara to forgive Yon Rah. In a way, it really shows his discomfort with Katara's darker emotions, but she had been feeling that way since her mother died, along with the fact that she had no idea she could even confront him till Zuko gave her that information.

Do you think that a huge moment of growth for Aang would have to acknowledge this side of Katara as well?

I would like your thoughts on this.

Yeah, that "I forgive you" line is Aang being desperate. It's also really condescending and tone deaf to even compare his "forgiveness" in this scene to Katara forgiving Yon Rah.

I put forgiveness in quotes because Aang absolutely does NOT forgive Katara for taking Appa. He just knows he can't stop her at this point. The sarcastic tone and "that give you any ideas?" make him look pretty hypocritical because he is neither being forgiving nor understanding, he's just being flippant and dismissive.

It's also really clueless for Aang to make this comparison in the first place because, once again, Aang thinks the way to get Katara to listen to him is to compare her to a murderer. People talk a lot about how hurtful it was for him to compare Katara to Jet, when Katara was strongly against the things Jet did and was hurt by him personally. But let's talk for a minute about how Aang's new tactic is to literally compare her to her mom's murderer and compare her forgiving Yon Rah to him forgiving her for taking Appa without permission after she repeatedly tried to get Aang to listen to why she needed to go and he shut her down.

It takes a lot less for Aang to forgive Katara here than it would for Katara to forgive Yon Rah, so this kinda puts a damper on his whole "forgiveness is hard" theme. And even so, as I said above, he's not really forgiving her, he's just making a sarcastic comment while still judging her. Aang is not being the arbiter of forgiveness here that he pretends to be.

Let's also look at the conversation in context because I have more to say here.

Aang is flippant and dismissive - while also implying that Katara taking Appa is comparable to her mother's murder. And I'm not saying it wasn't probably hurtful to Aang that Katara would take Appa without his permission, especially considering what Appa means to him, but it's not comparable to cold blooded murder motivated by genocide. In any way. And, like, considering how they left things in the previous scene, with Katara telling Aang she had to go, what did Aang think Katara was going to do?

I'm pretty sure I've also mentioned before how this plot point is manufactured to make Katara look worse. However, in the previous episode, Sokka tried to take Appa without permission and the only reason he didn't was because Zuko pointed out that it was a stupid idea and he happened to have a war balloon stashed away, which he conveniently no longer has as of TSR. This is basically a case of moral luck, where a character's morality is judged based on plot contrivance.

(I've also said before that Aang not killing Ozai is down to moral luck, but that's another conversation.)

So Aang is flippant and condescending, and Katara seriously and very directly tells him that yes, she is going to take Appa. Mae Whitman's voice acting is phenomenal in this scene, btw. She sounds so sad, because I think she does feel that she is betraying Aang by doing this, but she tried to tell him why she needed to do it. She tried. He didn't listen.

Then she says "don't try to stop us," and Aang says he wasn't going to and that "this is a journey you have to take," but, again, it doesn't feel like he's saying this because he really believes it. It feels like he's saying it because he has realized at this point that he can't stop them from going, short of attacking them. But if he thought he could, he definitely would have continued to try to stop them.

Which brings me also to Zuko's sarcastic comment. Because Aang's the one who sets the tone for this conversation. Zuko simply responds in kind. Katara, by contrast, continues to speak in the same sad, hurt, but firm and direct tone, and thanks Aang for understanding. She thanks him. For understanding. When Aang is offering none of that to her.

I actually think Aang could learn more from Katara about forgiveness, given how much restraint she uses towards Aang here and the way he's treating her.

I think Zuko saw that, too, and that's why he responds angrily to Aang here. Not because he disagrees with Aang's beliefs but because Katara keeps quietly but firmly telling him what she's going to do and he keeps ignoring her and acting like she's being irrational.

I've said this before, too, but that would also be triggering for Zuko to watch this happening, considering how he's been gaslit by his family. Notice how he's quiet until the end of the conversation (and didn't say much in the conversation before that, either.) Aang's language, even if well-intentioned, would probably set off something in him and he's not wrong to defend Katara.

#katara #the southern raiders #zuko #aang critical #antikataang #zutara #not really but using the ship tags to be safe

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platypus-whit-boots · 12 days

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9-1-1 vs @whimsquirksandstuff

@whimsquirksandstuff you HAVE to get into the 9-1-1 fandom because the fandom is currently having a stroke.

like, it's like receiving a punch to the throat, while they just serve us a five(5) star gourmet meal.

#911 abc #911 show #911 season 7 #evan buckley #ship wars #its going to be bloody #we're dead and we love it #how do i tag this #i don't know #idk what tags to use #how do i tag again #dead inside #not really #stay safe folks

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spacedlexi · 2 years

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i always wondered if you ever read any violentine/twg fanfiction and if you have could you tell us your favorites? Or what tropes would you like to read? Idk I just really like this ship and since there was so little content I could find so i read a lot of shit 💀 but I hold a special care for it since it was one of the first fandoms I entered and finding out Clem was bi meant a lot to me cause you don't see a lot of bi representation that isn't like "I like fucking anything that moves🤩(Yea Im looking at you Elite)”.

So yeah I'd like to hear you thought of fanfiction and stuff.

i tried once or twice but didnt get farther than the first chapter or so on the few i tried 😔 i kinda for the most part stopped reading fic after high school to be fair, so im very particular about what i Do read when it comes to fic now. and on ao3 at least since im afraid of wattpad there really hasnt been anything that held my attention (at least in the past. like i said i havent tried looking in a couple years so who knows). i need plot/character development heavy stuff that i can really sink my teeth into and i didnt really find much of that... and the "tropes" i like are more determined by which characters im applying them to so i dont always like the same ones across the board

someone asked me this question a while ago and i asked for any fic recs at the time but i only got like.. one? im really not sure what the state of twdg fic is like honestly

DESPITE all that tho im still slowly slowly SLOWLY meticulously steadily working on my own oneshot that i WILL FINISH I SWEAR its over 20 pages currently and only like 2/3? done?? and half edited BUT it IS outlined so..... i just have to.. you know..... actually Finish it....

i posted some snippets from it a while ago (HERE) but here's a couple longer ones since ive written about 10 more pages (plus like 5 in outlines) since then. im Really particular about the flow of my writing which is like.. the main reason why i take so long to write.. gotta fix it until it Feels Right

A comfortable silence seemed to settle over them then. The wind outside the shack still blew harshly, whistling against the broken windows. But as the girls sat by the warm glow of the fire, and listened to the crackling of the burning logs, it was enough to melt their tension. At least a bit.

The silence continued until the fire began to dwindle with the last of the logs. "We're going to have to start burning those..." Clementine said as she looked at the loose boards they had kicked aside earlier.

"I got it," Violet said as she stood, not even giving Clementine a chance to move. As she grabbed a board and kicked hard at its center, trying to break it in two, Clementine twisted her mouth. Not at the other girl, but at herself. She was still getting used to her new limitations, and it frustrated her knowing there were just certain things that she couldn't or struggled to do now.

The boards had been sturdy once, but due to age and exposure, they had eroded enough that Violet was able to break them with relative ease. She threw a couple of the pieces on the fire and set the rest by the hearth as she returned to where she had been at Clementine's side. She gave her a soft, reassuring smile as the fire came back to life, and Clementine gave a soft smile in return, breaking her from her thoughts, if only momentarily.

She heaved a sigh as her eyes were drawn back to the missing portion of her left leg. She thought about the trek awaiting them in the morning, and her mouth twisted again. "Ugh, walking through all of that snow is gonna fuck up my leg..."

The soft smile on Violet's face became mischievous. "Don't worry, I can just carry you instead." She said it nonchalantly, but the fluttering in her chest betrayed her.

Clementine quirked her eyebrow in response to the bold statement, smiling skeptically as she laughed "Uh, aha, yeah right."

"What, don't think I can?" Violet responded, the look on her face unbothered by the other girls reaction. "Brody was the one who carried you to the school after you crashed and I'm, like, at least as strong as Brody was."

Clementine's face dropped at the revelation. "Wait-... Brody brought us back?"

"Uh..." Violet hesitated at the change in Clementine's voice. "Yeah... Her and Marlon. She was the only one he would ever take outside the safe zone." She explained, and as an aside to herself said "Huh, guess it makes sense now..."

The playful atmosphere had now quickly disappeared, only to be replaced with a quiet, somber one. In the short time Clementine had to get to know Brody, she felt they had started to become friends. However, there weren’t many good memories made between them, and so Clementine more easily remembered the bad ones.

She could still remember that stormy night in the cellar clearly, could remember the sounds of Brody's inhuman screeching. The hot blood on her hands as she fought against the turned girl for her life. The guilt sinking in her chest like a black hole as she looked over what she had done. What she had to do. Clementine mourned her in the way she mourned everyone else she had lost. And it never got any easier.

Violet watched Clementine as she internally fought through her feelings, and once again regretted her words. She didn't want to think about Brody, either. And felt guilty over unintentionally bringing those awful memories to the surface. Clementine told them what Marlon had done that night, yet never talked about what happened after. But Violet had helped the others with the bodies, had seen what Clementine was forced to do. She remembered the sight clearly, as clearly as she remembered feeling that Marlon got what he deserved.

"Maybe we should try to get some sleep before it gets cold in here..." Clementine suggested tentatively.

Violet shifted, stretching her arms out in front of her, catching the last of the heat from the hearth on her fingers. "We should use the bed, then. It'll at least be better than the floor. Plus, there's a blanket."

Violet stood up then, stretching her legs as Clementine looked up at her. "Are you sure that thing isn't completely rotted?"

"It should be okay. We only brought it in here a little over a year ago."

"'We'? Why?"

"Uh-" Violet started at that, averting her eyes. "Um... Minnie and I... we kinda... used to hang out here..."

"Oh..." Clementine wasn't sure what to say to that, but it did confirm her suspicions. So instead, she relented. "Okay."

But she hesitated, looking between her leg and her prosthetic where it still sat propped against the side of the fireplace. "Hmm..." Should she put it back on? The bed wasn't far...

"Here," Violet reached her hand out, noticing the hesitation, "let me help you."

Clementine eyed the outstretched hand, considering her options, and once again twisted her mouth at her new limitations. She kind of hated this. She had done everything on her own for so long, and now...

"C'mon, it's okay."

She looked back and forth between Violet's face and outstretched hand a few times before finally relenting. "...Fine." She really didn't want to lace up her prosthetic just to immediately take it off again.

Clementine took her hand, and Violet helped pull her up to stand. They leaned close as she found her balance, gripping tightly at Violet's shoulder with her free hand. It only took a short moment, and once Clementine stabled herself, her eyes locked with Violet's. They both started a bit when they noticed how close they had become, face to face.

"Aha. Um, you good?" Violet asked, slightly flushed.

"Yeah," Clementine said, hiding her blush better than the other girl. "Thanks."

#twdg #violentine #replies with lexi #incognito #i know how you feel anon i remember the fic tag for them being pretty....barren..#at least compared to what i was used to being into popular ships in big fandoms in the past #i was kind of surprised honestly #but to be fair i read a lot of mlm main pairing stuff in the past and wlw just seems to get less love in fandom spaces in comparison :/#violentines get cozy under my wing i will provide for you #really trying to tackle themes of like #clem dealing with her new disability. learning to rely on others instead of always being the one relied upon #settling into ericsons and solidly accepting it as a safe home. for Real this time #clems past traumas finally catching up to her now that she is in a safe place and is beginning to truly process these events #vi dealing with her guilt over everyone she couldnt save #the way she feels guilty over leaving clem/aj in the woods and feeling partially responsible for her leg #feeling conflicted over her feelings for minnie #(anger? guilt? loss?)#and therefore feeling conflicted over her feelings for clem #(finding new love. more guilt. in a space where her and minnie had good memories together)#(this is a friended route vi where they have feeling for each other but are only acting now that the raiders are no longer a threat)#ok wow you think ive said enough at this point? this post is huge............#ive been talking for too long

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smolselfshippingaxcycat · 1 year

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Oh, okay! Let me toss the question back at you--how about you and Netzach? How'd you two meet and what kicked off your relationship?

Only if you feel like sharing, of course!! /gen

~ librarian-lover 📖

ofc ofc!! thamk fur the ask @librarian-lover! /gen sorry i took so long two answer :'3 and sorry abt how long the answer is, too! /lh

i dont have a whole story planned out yet (beclaws chronic illness is a meanie) nor a name fur my s/i, just vaguely put twogether bits and pieces here and therer, but im hapy two share my ideas!! ill put them under the cut so that the post isnt 5 meters long /lhj

Local Idiot™ somehow manages two get hired at L Corp /lh

they start out in the welfare depawrtment, as one of the furst mempurrs

they dont dislike being there, but being that deep underground offsets their agoraphobia a bit- not enough two cause them panic, but it definitely makes it so that their mental corruption levels rise quicker

so they sign up two transfur two the safety team instead (beclaws control team is "too yellow" and info team is too menacing and safety sounds. not scary and ok maybe they just enjoy how green the halls are there if they cant have bloo)

they happen two bump intwo netzach on one of their furst few days there and they introduce themselves two each other

and while my s/i's attempting two make small talk (and mostly failing), theyre kinda like.. "huh, something abt him seems kinda sad.... oh, people have said that about me a lot! and im purretty touch starved, maybe he needs a hug...? wait, but it'd be weird two hug someone yew just met, right?? maybe i can be his furriend or something thatd be supurr awesome and nyaice-"

they're having All the Thoughts™.... they just cannot stop Thinking™ /lh

so they're trying two come up with excuses two talk two him day after day- while noticing his alcohol and enkaphalin usage, which... kinda worries them. they've definitely been stressed enough themself two the point where they've wanted two turn two drugs... was this a similar case??

efurry time they try two go up and talk two him, though, their voice just... won't come out.

so they have the idea of writing a letter instead! maybe thatd be easier..

theyre very nervous, and constantly state how "its not a crush or anything, i just wanna be furriends and get two know each other meowre!" followed by something like "oh but no purressure if yew dont want i mean i just want yew two know im feeling this way is all!" beclaws they're not quite sure if 'friend-crush' or 'squish' is an ok term two use, beclaws feelings are confusing. the way their brain automatically thinks of the worst case scenarios also makes it so that the letter starts off with something like... "if yew're reading this im purrobly dead or i dropped this on the floor somewhere"

they put said letter in an envelope and seal it with a white heart sticker that they color in the queerplatonic flag colors and write netzach's name on the back.

and they go "ok tomeowrrow im delivering this!"

tomeowrrow comes. they fold the letter intwo their pocket....

and they dont have the guts two deliver it-

"ok ill just carry this around in my pockets while working. in case i die or something.."

they still make attempts here and there two try and deliver the letter two no avail

other agents in the safety depawrtment have obviously taken notice of this and occasionally tease them about having a (supposed) crush on the sephirah of the safety team- meowre in a teasing playful way than anything else

but these teasing interactions turn out two be a bit of a blessing- the whole safety team kinda grows closer twogether with these mischievous lil interactions and hangouts (my s/i included ofc- im just keeping it vague beclaws i wanna make it so that others can bwoop their nuggets intwo this kinda scenario if they wanna ehehe)

uhh i dont have meowch else past this point but like.

theyre sneaking around during netzach's meltdown (although they very definitely shouldnt be, they want two be of help somehow- think of a scenario similar two how the sephirah meltdowns play out in teequeue's playthrough on the lp archive?)

afterwards, they meownage two listen in on bits and snippets of the manager's talk with netzach after his meltdown

that kind of... intensifies their feelings twowards him! like "whoa thats so cool of him actually two keep mewving furward even when life is so scary... i wish i could be like that"

so it becomes not only "i wanna be his furriend" but "i think... i really look up two him."

followed by "and also... its confusing but i wanna give him platonic kisses. does that make sense?? are- are platonic kisses a thing??"

ofc theyre just kinda talking two themself in their head trying two figure out "its not romantic but i think i wanna kiss him?? but! thats purrobably weird ill just say its a squish and try two deliver that letter..."

they. still dont meownage two deliver that letter even after the fall of L Corp

but thankfully, they get another chance two in the Library!

there, they actually manage two work up the nerve two talk two netzach, learning furrom their past mistake of just letting the oppurrtunity slip by- and they do it on their furst day, too!

they actually get along quite well and are p relaxed with each other!

my s/i doesnt drink (just beclaws they think there are better tasting and smelling things out there) and they encourage netzach two purractice some moderation beclaws they just worry like that a lot

often times after receptions, they nap snuggled next two each other (meowch two the delight of my touch starved s/i)

the qpr really only "started officially" after my s/i was explaining two another assistant librarian that "even tho i wanna kiss him it isnt romantic but i cant explain why it just doesnt feel romantic"

but they were explaining loud enough fur like. efurryone on the floor of art two hear beclaws. "what is volume control im neurodivergent also stop making me so flustered /lh"

netz has (purrobably?) nefur heard of anything like that befur, but is willing two give it a shot

so theres always kisses on the cheek or forehead pre-reception and purrobably meowre kisses and closerer snuggles post-reception. sometimes occasionally kisses on the lips, lots of hand holding or havin an arm around the other or little ways of showing physical affection (ᶦ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᶜ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉᵗᶻᵃᶜʰ ᶦˢ ˢᵘᵖᵘʳʳ ᵖʰʸˢᶦᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᶦᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ) tl;dr: local idiot joins lobcorp, tries and fails two befurriend netz, meownages two actually gain the nerve two talk two him during the events of ruina and talks a little too loudly but it turns out two be ok beclaws qpr

#self ship #self shipping #self insert #axcycat meows #the sleepiest librarians #tw drugs #tw drug use #tw addiction #tw alcohol #tw alchoholism #tw drug mention #tw death mention #im putting ALL THE TAGS IN just two be safe...#sorry i wrote 3 whole essays i nefur really talk abt my self ship/self insert ideas so this was all kinda bacced up in my head sjdgdsg #not mentioned: they get KoD's E.G.O. gift at some point and redraws it with sharpie when theyre reincarnated in the library #beclaws they “think it looks cool”#also not mentioned: chronic fatigue that gradually gets worse as they push themself while working @ L Corp #which also somehow transfurs ofur two their body in the Library even tho theyre just Book and Light #WAAA THIS IS SO LONG IM SO SORRY SKJFHSF /lh #yew dont hav two read this all i swear-#librarian-lover #long post

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phantomoftheorpheum · 1 year

Text

so I finished s2 of OOUIL and the biggest surprise to me is how much more this season made me love Janae. Like they were good in s1, but, as a book reader, I was definitely more focused on the main murder club 4, but s2 Janae is absolutely amazing and I love them so much.

#oouil #oouil s2 #janaematthews #janae matthews #one of us is lying #oouil spoilers #not really but tagging to be safe #i will be making oouil s2 content in the new year #and definitely some janae content #also while i (like tons of people) really love addy & janae #i'm not actively against janae and maeve (i'm just not 100% sold on maeve's characterization in the show)#so there will be no hate for either ship on this blog

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landograndprix · 3 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l c.s ❞ II

part i - part iii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Charles is not trying to do his best to safe your relationship but a new friendship is blossoming between you and lando.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ thank you so much for the love this fic us getting, it honestly was just a silly idea i had, absolutely insane 😭 google translate is my bestest friend

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 412,322 others

y/nusername the day after hits different when you've got a mini you 🍷

tagged: manon_roux, noellepicard

view all 1,523 comments

manon_roux hangover central over here😩

↳ y/nusername I would too if I drank about every drink available

noellepicard nobody told you to down all that tequila

manon_roux thanks for the support you guys

formulaonef1 Manon being the wildest of them all is not something I expected 💀

julieeeexo oh yeah the day after a night out definitely hits different, I know all about it!

charlieferrari zoë with her little bow 😭

hannahh how do you have time to read? I have a 8 month old and I'm barely able to read 2 pages a day!

↳ y/nusername I'm very lucky with a daughter who never skips a single nap and loves her sleep 😅

joris__trouche just like her mother

y/nusername oh definitely 🥰

landonorizzzz the fact that joris has been paying more attention to y/n than I've seen Charles do in the last couple of weeks is fucking hilarious to me

landoscar and its all too much for little zoë leclerc 😴

carlito55 did you and charles break up?

robyn_diaz had so much fun last night, so glad we got ti meet! 🤩

↳ norrizz isn't this lando's gf? 😂

norry4 unfortunately 😂

norrizz unfortunately??

norry4 she didn't really hide the fact that she's dating lando just for her 5 seconds of fame and money 💀

oscarpastry they're robably just fwb, lando said he was single in an interview couple weeks back

noellepicard mom's big night out, great success

landonorris still alive?

↳ y/nusername barely

landonorris I know the feeling

carlandooo lando...what are you doing here? 👀

charlesherve oh god watch this be the new ship of the fandom 🙄

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 526,009 others

y/nusername les derniers jours de l'été ☀ (the last days of summer)

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view 1,562 comments

thurthur gotta love the leclerc family 😭

manon_roux mademoiselle fille passe une journée difficile, je vois 😴 (miss girl having a tough day i see)

↳ y/nusername c'est un travail difficile d'être un bébé (it's a tough job being a baby)

manon_roux ..et quelqu'un doit le faire 🥰 (..and someone's gotta do it)

bott_ass take me to Monaco pls

joris__trouche still not an invite? 😔

↳ sharl16 joris being abandoned by his boyfriend and his boyfriends girlfriend 😔

arthurlec omg arthur and charles 😭

noellepicard j'espère que tu as passé une bonne journée, hottie ❤️ (hope you had a great day, hottie)

↳ y/nusername toujours 😘 (always)

arthur_leclerc you need to lock your phone better

↳ y/nusername or you could leave it alone?

arthur_leclerc yeah but that's not fun ☺

thurthur stop bullying your brothers girlfriend 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightfdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalucinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47 @forevertcaffeinated-lee @amalialeclerc

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando x reader #charles x reader

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just-your-average-tangerine · 10 months

Text

I think the hardest part of being trans is the uncertainty.

Like, there's a new band I kind of like. They've only released a few songs, but I like those songs, and I like the bands style, so I followed them on Instagram to keep up with them. Neither member of the band is openly queer but many of their (young) fans talk about how their dynamic and their music fits with a popular gay ship. The band has really leaned into it and made content to appeal to that, so I feel confident in assuming they're decently gay friendly, at least. But said popular ship is from Harry Potter, so I don't feel at all confident that they're trans friendly. They haven't said or done anything specifically transphobic, but they haven't specifically said anything in support of trans people either. So it creates that uncertainty. Am I safe in this fan space? Am I wanted? Will I be accepted?

Even in queer spaces, it's the same story. I've been in queer spaces that claimed to be trans friendly. They have name tags and pronoun stickers and pins available to everyone, a trans flag on the wall. But most of the staff won't try to use the correct pronouns. And trans men aren't welcome in the queer men's group they run. And when they invite a group to do free haircuts, they won't cut trans men's hair because they "don't do women's haircuts."

It's like, I can go to pride with a trans flag and five different he/him buttons pinned to my chest, and I'll still get misgendered to my face.

Every time you want to be a part of something, you have to ask yourself

-do they accept trans people

-if so, is that acceptance limited and conditional

-do they accept trans people as a part of the group or do they allow trans people to be there but not a part of it, is it a "you can tag along but you're not one of us" situation. A "trans people can join but gay trans men are not "real" gay men and trans lesbians are not "real" lesbians" situation.

Every fucking thing is uncertain.

The tweet has long been deleted, but years ago, Laura Jane Grace tweeted something to the effect of 'do you think I don't know that everyone I admire would hate me'. And that it. That's the shape of it. You just have to live with the idea that there's a good chance anyone you look up to, would hate you.

And that eats at you.

It really does.

#transgender #trans #transphobia #transandrophobia #transmisogny #enbyphobia #queer #and sometimes even other trans people arent safe #op

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halfvalid · 7 months

Note

Hey! Since your requests are open, may I request opla!Zoro x reader (established relationship) where the reader has a lot of self doubt (not only in their looks, but their abilities and their place in the crew) since it’s, unfortunately, been shoved done their throat by pretty much eveyone they knew, even their parents, that they would never be good enough? Maybe Zoro figures out that they have sort of been spiralling lately and they have a talk about the readers past and the problems they’re facing and he comforts them? Maybe it ends sort of spicy or turns out full on spicy, if you’re comfortable with that!

daybreak

ABOUT

alternate title: some fluffy established relationship hurt/comfort to save my soul

rating: teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k (short; sorry!)

description: zoro notices you've been seeming off recently, and you confide in him your insecure feelings of self-worth. he comforts you.

tags: strawhat!reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, no use of ‘y/n’, soft zoro, ridiculously stupidly absolutely horrifyingly fluffy.

author’s note: thank you so much for the very lovely request! i hope i did your prompt justice; i ended up not writing any spice at the end (just slightly suggestive) since i didn't think it fit the story but i hope you like it anyway ^^

it feels slightly ooc, but i also wrote it in the span of two hours at 1:00 am so can you really blame me.

It was morning on the Going Merry, and you were cleaning up the wreckage that had been scattered along the deck in your last battle. The crew had gone up against some other pirates; it’d been late at night, and the attack had come suddenly, what you’d thought would be a peaceful docking turning combative quickly.

You barely remembered the fight. One moment, the warning bell had sounded, and the next Zoro was rolling out of bed beside you, grabbing his swords and darting out of your bedroom before you could even register what was happening. The fight had gone in the Straw Hats’ favor, thankfully; Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji had fended off most of the threat, and you were back on the open sea, safe from enemies for at least a little while now.

You let out a sigh as you swept shattered glass into a dustpan, shaking out the collected trash into a nearby empty barrel. None of the men usually bothered to start cleaning up—typical—so you’d pulled yourself out of bed as early as possible to get the ship looking a little more like normal.

Zoro had left some corpses on the deck for you to deal with, and you’d had to toss them overboard, a grimace tugging at your lips as blood stained the white of your blouse. No matter. You’d finished sweeping, at least; all you had left to do was mop, right as everyone else was waking up.

You filled a bucket with warm water and soap, and were just grabbing the mop from the closet when you heard footsteps. You glanced up, surprised to see Zoro heading towards you, one hand grasped loosely around his sword handle as always. “You’re up early,” he said, casual as ever. “Woke up and you were gone.”

“Figured I should get a head start on cleaning,” you answered quickly, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you dunked the mop into the bucket. His brows creased as he watched you start mopping, pushing the handle along the deck to wipe it clear of bloodstains.

“How long have you been doing this?” Zoro asked, after a few seconds of delayed silence. You shrugged, dunking your mop again before going for another few swipes. “We can help clean too, you know.”

“It’s the least I can do,” you protested. You moved past him, trying very hard not to meet his eyes—but Zoro didn’t let you pass, one hand going out to grab the mop rod and stopping you in your tracks. “What?”

“What do you mean, least you could do?” Zoro asked blankly.

“I mean—” you shrugged, muscles limp like your entire body was sagging you down. “You and the others were the ones to deal with the pirates, so I figured I could at least—”

Zoro still looked confused, brows pulled together, forehead taut with a frown. “I distinctly recall you throwing a pirate twice your size overboard. Unless I was imagining things.”

You sighed. “Not what I meant.” You tried to push past Zoro again, but he didn’t let you, hand still tightly grasped around your mop handle.

“Okay, what did you mean, then?”

“Nothing. Will you just let me finish cleaning so there aren't blood stains all over Luffy’s ship?” You sighed again, even as you attempted to keep the sound inside—but you couldn’t help it. It was like there was an anchor stuck inside of you, pulling everything from your feelings to your body down, the weight of gravity tugging at your features.

“Luffy’s ship?”

You shrugged. “The Straw Hats’ ship. Whatever.”

“Our ship,” Zoro said. There was a certain twinge of something in his words; still blankness, but laced with a dawning realization that you weren’t sure you liked. “You’re upset.”

“Nope.” This time you really did manage to get free of Zoro’s grasp, yanking your mop out of his grip and starting back on cleaning the deck. The acrid smell of iron hit your nose as you scrubbed the dried blood off—you’d have to go back in later with a sponge to get all the cracks and crevices, but for now this would be okay.

Zoro followed you, unceasing with his interrogation. “Yes, you are. I know when you’re upset, and you’re upset. What happened.” It was more of a statement than a question—Zoro didn’t often doubt himself, really, which was one of the many things that’d helped make you stumble into falling for him. “Was it about last night? You know the cook's just making fun when he keeps a counter, right? It doesn’t matter if he brought two or five more men down than you.”

“It’s not about that,” you insisted.

“So you admit you are upset.”

You groaned, finally turning to look Zoro in the eye. He’d stopped walking, the dawning sun glinting hazey gold onto his skin in the early hour. There was still an overcast of blue from the night in the sky, and it made the heavens look ethereal, watery and glittering.

“Come on,” he urged. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s really nothing you need to be concerned about,” you attempted, but your voice was weak now. Zoro stepped closer to you, gently pulling the mop out of your hands. Your fingers let go easily. “It’s silly.”

Zoro gave you a look. “Out with it.”

“I don’t know, I just—” your fingers clenched, like your hand was trying to find something to do now that Zoro had rid you of your mop. “Comparatively I just don’t do much. So I want to help out as much as possible.”

“Who said you don’t do much?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself,” Zoro said. He let the mop fall to the ground, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Who said you don’t do much?”

“I mean, nobody. It’s just true.” You shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the way Zoro was looking at you—all attentive, like he was trying to strip you raw with his eyes, uncover whatever secrets might be hiding in the pores of your skin and the gaps of your teeth. “Luffy’s the captain, we wouldn’t be able to do anything without Nami, you and Sanji are the fighters, and Usopp’s everyone’s favorite. I’m just kind of… filler?”

The more you spoke, the worse your words got, your tone turning more desperate as the sentences fumbled out of your mouth. Zoro’s eyebrows raised higher as you went on, and you flushed, red prickling all over your skin.

“First of all,” he started, “Usopp is not my favorite. That’d be you. And—where are you getting this from?”

You shook your head, trying to backtrack. “Nothing. Nowhere. It’s not that import—”

“Yes, it is, and we’re talking about it.” Zoro pulled a nearby barrel by the side of the ship, plopping himself down atop it and gesturing for you to sit. You didn’t, but you did move over to the railing, hands curling around the painted wood. “Speak.”

“I have nothing to say,” you tried. Zoro just shot you an unimpressed look, and you squirmed. “Fine. I don’t know. I joined last, so I just figured… you were all kind of already set without me, right?”

Zoro shook his head. “We’re a crew,” he said, voice strong but somehow still gentle. “You’re part of us for a reason. What, this entire time did you think you were—expendable?”

You fidgeted uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Last night—I only got, like what, two guys? And you reacted way faster to the situation than I did,” you started, words flailing around on your tongue as they rushed out. It was indelicate, for certain, and you yourself couldn’t make sense of most of the words—but once you started, you couldn’t stop, even as they slurred together. “I was still getting out of bed and grabbing my weapon when you’d already dealt with half the enemy crew.”

“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Zoro said with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair. I’ve been training since I was eight. It’s different.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath, trying not to let your frustration get the best of you. “I can't help it sometimes. It’s a bad habit.” You loosened your grip on the ship railing, staring out at the golden clouds hovering over the sky. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Zoro answered. He didn’t say anything after that—giving you a space to talk, you supposed, in case you wanted to. But his hand did reach up to press against yours, pinky brushing against your finger as he held onto the railing beside you.

“I guess I just always had these standards back at the village,” you managed out eventually. Your island had always been one of the more traditional places in the East Blue, and there were plenty rules and guidelines abound. One of the many reasons you’d left the place in favor for Luffy and the Going Merry, really. “So I just… always want to do more. It’s not that bad.”

“Right.” Zoro’s pinky looped around your finger, now, holding it close in a soft kiss of the hands. You sighed.

“My parents were kind of rough on me, I guess,” you tried, sneaking a glance over at Zoro’s face to see if it satiated his curiosity at all. His expression remained as steel as ever, so you just continued. “They wanted me to be the best I could. But their standards were too high, even when I was little.” You found yourself rubbing circles into the back of Zoro’s hand with your finger, more so to comfort yourself than for any other reason. “Just normal stuff, like being upset about my school grades or my combat training levels being too low. Nothing that terrible.”

“But…?” Zoro asked, tilting his head up to look at you. You smiled, but the action didn’t reach your eyes—it was all mouth and jaw, cheeks lifting but eyes glinting with the same glazed stare.

“It just affected me a lot, I suppose,” you answered. “Always trying to get better. Never satisfied. And I guess now—I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough.”

“For?” Zoro asked. His voice was low, soft, all hollow and empty inside. There was a tinge of roughness lacing it, like he’d forgotten to clear his throat, and the scratch of his vocal chords had surfaced up along with the words.

“Myself. My parents. Luffy. You.” Your lips tightened into a line. Vaguely, you could feel the warm pinpricks of tears starting at your waterline, and you tried to will them back, letting out a little laugh. “Everyone, I guess.”

Zoro’s hand had come to hold yours fully, fingers woven in between yours, thumb pressed firmly against the joint of your thumb. Somehow, that one motion managed to force the last of the words out of you—all wet and soft, eyes glued fiercely to the horizon in fear of seeing what was etched on Zoro’s face.

“We do arranged marriages back at home,” you started, trying very hard to keep your voice from trembling. it worked only marginally—there was a tiny quaver in your tone, but it was soft, not noticeable unless you were really listening hard. “And my mom used to tell me I’d die alone. Because I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough for any of the boys there.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. It was quiet; barely a whisper. You tried for a wry smile.

“I like helping, though. I don’t mind cleaning up or whatever. It makes me feel more useful.” You tried to tug your hand out of Zoro’s grip, but his fingers tightened, keeping you in place. A nervous laugh escaped your throat. “And I know I’m part of the crew and all of this is just silly. So it’s really fine—”

Zoro tugged your intertwined hands to his chest, causing you to stumble and glance down at him in surprise. His expression was nearly unreadable. It’d darkened, and there was a contemplative gaze in his eyes, lips parted with invisible words perched on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, and your stomach dropped, the nervousness that had gathered inside during the conversation tightening up into a hall. “Don’t say it’s okay or that it’s not important. If it’s making you upset, then it matters.”

“I guess,” you tried, and Zoro’s gaze lifted to fix you with a glare. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just…” Zoro shook his head. “Look, whatever your parents used to tell you, whatever you have ingrained in your head—it’s not true. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more, but… you don’t have to do it. You’re enough already.”

Your gaze softened, lips falling open to say something, but Zoro wasn’t finished yet. “You shouldn’t come out here and force yourself to clean up just to make up for your—waste of space, or something. You’re not a servant. And you’re not wasting up any space. I think everyone would agree that you’re a very important and vital part of the crew.”

“Thanks,” you whispered. Zoro’s hand was warm around yours, and you felt the threatening droplets of tears start to rise up at your waterline, ready to fall at any moment now. Zoro just nodded.

“You’re a great fighter, and way smarter than what you give yourself credit for,” he said firmly. He raised your hand to his mouth, then, leaning over to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. “And the boys on your island have to be blind, because you’re pretty enough. You’re more than pretty enough.”

He whispered the last words, all soft and sacred on his tongue. “You’re beautiful.”

That was enough to drive your tears over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flow as the warm sensation of liquid streaking down your cheeks began. Droplets caught in the crevice of your lips, and at the hinge of your jaw—Zoro brought a hand up to wipe them away. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I just, um.” You shook your head, sniffing. “Thank you. That… helped. I think.”

Zoro bummed out his response. “Of course,” he said easily. “You’re my girl. It’s my job to cheer you up.” He kissed your knuckles again. “And you can talk to any of us. I’m not really the best at this, but everyone else…” he shrugged.

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him. Zoro nodded, tugging you down until you finally took a seat on a crate beside him. “I think it’s just been worse lately.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re better than the waiter,” Zoro said. You just laughed.

“I think you’re biased, but thank you,” you said. “Here, I, um, I promise I’ll let you know if I’m feeling down, I guess. If you don’t mind.”

“Definitely don’t mind,” Zoro answered. This time he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, somewhere at the bottom near the back. “Leave the mopping for someone else. You’ve already done a lot.”

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as Zoro kissed the rest of the way up the back of your neck. He placed a final one right below your earlobe. With that, Zoro stood up, sweeping one arm under your legs and hoisting you up. You cracked open an eye to regard him with a blank look. “What are you doing?”

“Bringing you back to my room,” Zoro answered. “You didn’t get much sleep tonight. And I doubt anyone wants to watch me kissing you on the main deck anyway.”

That was fair enough reasoning, so you didn’t complain, letting him carry you all the way to his cabin and gently lay you down onto his bed. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your lips—you could still taste the saltwater from your tears from before. “Want me to stay?” Zoro asked.

“You don’t have to,” you said automatically, and Zoro raised both his eyebrows. You let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Please stay.”

“All you had to say,” Zoro said, shedding himself of his shoes and swords before leaning over the bed to watch you. He didn’t slip under the covers or anything, just propped an arm up on the mattress, kneeling beside the bed. There was tender silence for a few moments before Zoro spoke again.

“I love you,” he said abruptly, voice rough but somehow still soft. Your heart beat too fast in your chest, ribcage squeezing in on the organ and making it skip. His hand slid along the mattress to find yours, and you took the offer, fingers clasping around his palm.

“I love you too,” you whispered back. Zoe leaned over, then, the hand not intertwined with yours tilting your jaw over just so to allow him better access to your mouth. He kissed you full-on, tender but firm, mouth working against yours in a way that unraveled you entirely. Your grip on his hand tightened as he deepened the kiss, a soft sound emitting from low in your throat. Finally you broke apart, heaving for breath, exhales mixing together midair. An exchange of souls, you’d heard once, somewhere.

“Come on,” you murmured, tugging Zoro closer to the bed so he got the hint. He slipped beside you onto it, turning your head again to meet you in another kiss. His hand drifted down to your waist, holding you securely in place.

“I don’t think anyone should need us for a few more hours, right?” Zoro asked, and you laughed. He swallowed up the sounds with his mouth, tongue licking languidly into you as he rubbed delicate circles into the skin of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and then he was kissing you again.

You let him siphon the soul out of your lungs, knowing you were getting his right back.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #kiki writes!

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mokulule · 7 months

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Take Out for Dummies - Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main Previous | Masterpost Note: So I was planning on sitting on this until I was about done with part 3, but then @yeetyeetedyote, who tumblr doesn't allow me to tag, did a meme for part 1 and I couldn't help but post it. So hope you enjoy. Jason did not know what to wear. It was Red Hood who had a date, but going in his full uniform seemed very excessive somehow. But there was also no way he was going unarmed. He pondered his closet with a frown. What clothing did he even own that were suitable for a date? He’d never had to ponder this before. What level of formality was expected? Probably not formal, considering there would be no dinner. Also he was Red Hood, there was no way he’d do formal, he had an aesthetic.

He finally settled on jeans, a red henley and the brown leather jacket he used as Red Hood. He held up the jacket and inspected it critically for blood spatters, that at least he felt certain wasn’t appropriate.

One hour later saw Red Hood rolling up to the curb in front of the building. Only one person was leaning against the brick wall there, absorbed in their phone; it had to be Danny. The rest of the people there were just walking past. It was Crime Alley, Red Hood barely got a glance of interest. Gotta love Gothamites.

Jason had not been able to really get good visual on Danny in the dark, aside from the fact that he was rather short and had dark hair, the night vision in his helmet could only do so much. He had not been prepared for how he looked up and the wide blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. Nor the way the button down shirt and the jeans hugged close to broad shoulders and slim waist in a way the hoodie he’d worn previously had clearly not.

Somehow in all his musings about how this would go Jason had never considered the possibility that Danny would be hot.

“Hi,” Danny said still smiling as he came up to him. He raised his arms out from his sides a bit helplessly before letting them fall back. “So how do you want me?”

Jason’s brain screeched to a halt as those words brought a decidedly not appropriate image to his head. He was so glad he was wearing his helmet right now. Jason must have stiffened or given away his embarrassment some other way, because Danny’s cheeks flushed as he too realized how his question could have been understood.

“I meant on your bike.”Jason hunched over, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. Because that was not helping at all.

Wordlessly Jason held out the extra helmet. Danny took it gratefully and stuffed it over his red face.

“Front.” Jason said over the radio connection between the helmets.

Jason had to give Danny a hand to get him situated in front. He had to hold on near the center of handlebars and he didn’t really have good place to place his feet and had to hold them curled up.

It was neither safe nor legal, but Jason was not about to have a potential assassin at his back and besides who was gonna arrest Red Hood for traffic violations? The small hitched gasp when Jason curled around Danny’s back to reach the handlebars had his lips quirking up, and he might have pressed him just a bit further forward just for that.

“Where to?”

“Sommerset.”Jason raised an eyebrow at that as he kicked off the curb. Carefully, as he got a feeling for the different weight distribution, he drove them in the direction of the Trigate Bridge.

“If a tour of Old Arkham is your idea of a date, I think I’m gonna have to shoot you.”

Danny scoffed.

“I promised you fun, didn’t I?”

At Jason’s lack of response, he slumped further.

“There’s a traveling carnival on the fair grounds at the edge of town.”

“Huh.” Jason was trying to think of a time he’d actually visited a carnival as a visitor and not a vigilante to stop some villain plot. He was coming up short. There was a feeling in his chest he had a hard time identifying, an uncertain thing, but it wasn’t bad. If nothing else he was gonna have an experience? Oo o oO

They parked the bike in the attached gravel parking lot near the fair grounds. Jason had to step off the bike first and then promptly had to catch Danny as his legs refused to carry him when he stepped off the bike.

“Oh wow, my legs fell asleep there.” He laughed and stepped away on wobbly legs as he pulled the helmet off. He handed it to Jason who put it into its compartment.

He took another wobbly step forward and Jason couldn’t help the way he reached for him to steady him. Instead Danny grabbed his hand firmly. Jason was baffled at the action looking from Danny to their hands, uncertain how to react, but Danny just smiled and changed his hold so their fingers were twined together.

He looked mightily satisfied about it too as he tugged Jason forward toward the fair grounds. A fair bit of the rides were visible because of their heights and Jason could easily imagine how the place would light up with multicolored lights once evening came.

Once they entered the fair grounds they drew quite a lot of attention. Lots of people stopped and pointed at Red Hood and his companion. Phones were pointed in their direction and Jason found himself tensing.

Danny leaned closer and spoke lowly, “Don’t worry, nobody will believe them. Regular digital cameras are odd around me, so they won’t get usable footage.”

Jason’s mind raced, what did that mean? Did he have some sort of jammer? Was it a meta ability? Was it related to his ability to sneak up on vigilantes on Gotham rooftops?

“And,” Danny continued, “if anyone asks, we can always say you’re a cosplayer.”

Jason grimaced. Danny slapped his chest as if he could see right through the mask.

“Hey! Cosplay is a great creative hobby.”

“That’s not- I’m a former crime lord. I don’t understand why anyone would dress up as me.”

“Pffft, don’t sell yourself short. Also you have a cool recognizable thing going on with the helmet. It will be especially funny if someone critiques it for not being accurate.”

Jason couldn’t help his chuckle at how gleeful Danny looked at the prospect.

“This is the real reason you want me to claim I’m cosplaying?”

“It would be so funny, admit it!”

Jason huffed. It would be pretty funny.

“Ha! I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, time to show off some of those shooting skills and win me a plushie.” With that statement Danny pointed towards a game booth with truly ridiculously large unicorn plushies hanging from it and tugged Jason forward. It was only at that moment he remembered they were still holding hands. It was…

It was nice.

Danny glanced back at him and he was smiling, warm and excited. Jason didn’t remember the last time someone had smiled that much at him. Jason found himself smiling back, and he was suddenly grateful he couldn’t be seen behind the helmet.

The shooting booth operator eyed Red Hood warily until Danny broke the tension in a voice that carried, “my friend’s cosplay is pretty awesome right?”

The operator’s shoulders fell and he chuckled, “pretty brave of him to wear that this close to Gotham proper.”

“Sure is! But not to worry if there’s any trouble I will protect him,” Danny said seriously, with a glance and a wink at Jason.

The man took in Danny’s skinny and less than imposing appearance and burst out laughing, and just like that any remaining tension was gone.

The operator explained the game. There were different tiers with bottles lined up on shelves and flat rings of different widths balancing on top. You got points if you knocked the ring down over the bottle neck. The slimmer rings offered more points.

It was a pretty simple game.

Danny put down cash for the game and looked at Jason expectantly. “Show us some of that Red Hood skill.”

The operator chuckled. Jason rolled his eyes and stepped up.

Immediately, as he picked up the air gun it felt clunky in his hand. It was sharp-edged where it should be smooth and was weighted all wrong especially with the pressure cable attached to it, but that was not going to stop him. He loaded it with one of the five cork stoppers the operator handed him. He seemed to be enjoying Danny’s teasing as much as Danny himself.

Out the corner of his vision he saw Danny lean forward expectantly as he took aim.

He pulled the trigger.

The cork stopper was ejected with a loud pop and promptly hit the edge of a shelf bouncing backwards to land on the floor where it rolled around three times before stopping.

Danny looked at him wide eyed before bursting out in helpless snickers. Jason shoved him in revenge, but he couldn’t help smiling. There was just something refreshing about how despite knowing he was the real Red Hood he was so completely unafraid of him. Not even his family was that relaxed around him.

He didn’t want to bring his mood down contemplating that, so he reloaded the clunky gun and took aim again. He considered the points on the rings and the available prize tiers. Four shots left, with a bit of luck he could still do decently.

Aiming higher and slightly more to the right of how he would aim a real gun he shot the first maximum point ring down around the bottle neck. Three more fell in rapid succession.

Danny cheered, pumping his fist in the air.

“That’s four hundred points, that gives you the choice of a large prize,” the operator said impressed.

He pointed at a large unicorn plush, it wasn’t quite the extra large ones that hung on the outside of the stall, those required cumulative points from at least two games, but it was still a very decent size.

Danny was the very opposite of disappointed when Jason handed it over. He squished it in his arms and absolutely beamed up at Jason. Jason looked away, embarrassed for feeling so satisfied and warm just for winning a silly game.

The operator snorted giving them a knowing look. “Have a nice evening boys.”

“You too,” Danny replied, sidling up close and entwining their fingers again as he pulled them away and off towards the various rides.

Jason eyed their once more joined hands in bemusement, not really sure what to think, but he’d already allowed it once. It sold the appearance of a date, made it all the more likely to the bystanders that Jason was just some cosplayer with a death wish, so it was smart to keep holding hands. And Jason found himself reluctant to give it up.

It was an easy illusion to give into.

He squeezed Danny’s hands and he turned his head to look at him, smiling like this was a real date and not one of his odd jobs. Jason nodded towards the bumper cars and Danny’s grin turned into feral delight as he dragged him in the new direction. It was so easy to pretend Jason was just here to have fun with a friend who was maybe just a bit more.

That was something he could have had maybe. If he hadn’t been Robin. If he hadn’t died and come back wrong. If he wasn’t a former crime lord just trying to find his footing with a family he wasn’t sure wanted him and not just the dead boy he’d been.

But for just a little while he could pretend.

Until Danny turned out to actually know he was supposed to kill him, until everything crashed and burned like usual, he could allow himself a little fun.

Like ignoring every sign saying the bumper cars were not meant for driving into each other. The bored teen operator certainly didn’t care to uphold that rule. The bumper car ride was a war zone, a giant free for all and yet Jason managed to have only eyes for Danny. He was a tricky driver to catch. Jason had no idea how he managed to maneuver the car like that, it was verging on supernatural.

They were both laughing when they exited their cars after Jason had finally managed to bump into him proper instead of the earlier glancing blows.

“Remind me to call you if I ever need a getaway driver.”

Danny snorted knocking their shoulders together. “Only if I get part of the cut.”

I’ll give you more than a cut, Jason was about to say, but thankfully didn’t. Because what did that even mean? Instead he knocked his shoulder back.

They continued on towards another ride, a small rollercoaster, and as they queued Danny started telling him about how his dad’s driving was so infamous in his hometown that the local news included a segment to warn for it when he was on the roads. Because of that nobody had wanted to give Danny driving lessons and that’s why technically he didn’t have a license, but he’d once landed a space shuttle, so that should count for something. The story verged on so impossible it had to be true, but Jason was sure if a civilian had actually landed a space shuttle it would have been all over the news or at least known among superheroes - it was entertaining nonetheless.

Jason wasn’t sure when they’d started holding hands again only noted the absence when Danny left him by a bench several rides later with stern instructions to protect the princess with his life, aka the unicorn plushie.

The lights had flickered on a while ago and bathed the darkening grounds in multicolored lights. Jason leaned back relaxing against the bench. Taking in the lights and the happy atmosphere as people passed him by. There were a few people who pointed and snickered as they walked by, but clearly the unicorn plushie was just as good as Danny to convince people he was just a guy in a costume.

“It’s a pretty good costume.”

Jason turned his head to find a man with a superman shirt had stopped. He stayed silent waiting for him to elaborate. He obviously wanted to, there was something in his drawl.

“The casual look is pretty well put together while remaining recognizably Red Hood.”

“But-“ somehow there was a but- “if you were actually from Gotham you’d know that the real helmet is matte and the brow section is more slanted giving it an angrier expression.”

Jason stared incredulously at the man in the Superman shirt accusing him of not being a Gothamite. Never mind the helmet thing, that was just ridiculous but accusing him of not being a Gothamite, now that was an insult he wouldn’t be taking. Jason stood up to his full six feet and saw the way the man shrunk as he realized he might have made a mistake.

“There you are, babe,” Danny inserted himself smoothly into the situation snaking an arm around his waist and pressing close. It was distracting. “Come on let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Jason snorted as he let Danny move them forward. He didn’t need the intervention, he wouldn’t have attacked the man or anything.

He couldn’t help but pull them to a stop however as they passed him.

“Your information is outdated, this is the current helmet.” He spoke lowly and ominously only made more ominous by the voice modulation.

The man eep’ed and scrambled to get away.

They watched him go with no small bit of amusement.

“I thought we agreed to keep it on the down low.”

Jason shrugged, “he asked for it, besides you said it yourself, nobody will believe him.”

“Alright then.” Danny left the place beneath Jason’s arm, he had only a moment to feel bereft however until his hand was grabbed again and pulled in the direction of the parking lot. “Speaking of proof, do you mind me taking a selfie of us so I can prove I took you out?”

Jason frowned. “I thought you said cameras didn’t work around you.” “They don’t, I’ve had to modify it to be able to take any pictures.”

“You gonna tell me what kind of meta ability you have?”

Danny chuckled. He pulled their joined hands up and pressed a kiss to Jason’s scarred knuckles. Jason was so distracted by the action he almost didn’t hear the, “I like you Hood, but that isn’t a first date conversation.”

There was a pause in their conversation as Jason contemplated the absurd idea of there ever being a second date, the fact that this one was nearly over and how he’d actually had a lot of fun.

“So, selfie?”

“Uh sure.”

Danny juggled the white plastic bag that Jason only noticed now onehanded as he pulled out his phone. It was a broad phone with actual buttons and Jason would believe it was modified alright. Danny smiled and leaned close as he raised his hand, a small flash went off and Danny looked the picture over in satisfaction.

“What’s with the bag?”

“Huh, oh this is food. Our next stop, if you’re still willing, is the ice rink, but I figured we could take a break on the roof and eat back to back or something, what with the whole-” he indicated the helmet by waving a hand in front of his face.

So it wasn’t over yet. Not if Jason wanted to continue. It was an easy out, Jason could just chose to drive Danny to wherever he wanted to be dropped off and he could go home and still make it easily in time for patrol - or he could prolong the evening.

Jason popped open the compartment under the seat of his bike and took the warm bag of food from Danny to put in as he considered. Danny had already put on the extra helmet.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Jason could practically hear the smile in his voice even if he couldn’t see it through the opaque helmet.

“Okay,” he confirmed.

The small fist pump was kinda adorable. So first part of the date, it was getting a bit long so I cut it in two, but hey that's the only reason I could even upload it. Jason is in trouble, he's just not quite realizing it yet XD I enjoy hearing your thoughts on the story, so please continue to share <3

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#take out for dummies #dead on main #dp x dc

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tojifile · 4 months

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@Satosugu . . . ( ´ ꒳ ` )

Tags: idols!satosugu, f!reader, very very cliché wattpad 2018 plot, fan!reader, satosugu x reader, fluff, no curse au, cursing, use of petnames, mentions of stalking, clingy Satoru, kind of ooc (?), reader is 18 n the guys are 19, reader is shorter than both of them, NOT A SATOSUGU SHIP POST

A/N: Thinking about Geto Suguru & Gojo Satoru and those kpop fics I saw everywhere on Wattpad during 2018. I made it less (?) cringe. This is just for fun anyways, I still eat up the most cliché shit. I just love love love them. Pt.2 is out now frfr!!

Kaisen - JJK Entertainment ☆

- Gojo Satoru

- Geto Suguru

idol!satoru who you literally bump into on a cold winter’s night in Japan. He has this cheeky grin on his face as he saw your shocked expression. “Hey princess!” He teasingly says. You thought that he looked kind of familiar but you weren’t really paying much attention, you were too caught up trying to escape the guy who has been following you.

idol!suguru who almost immediately noticed the man all dressed in black who seemed to be keeping a close eye on you while also maintaining a distance. Suguru observed the man as you and Satoru conversed.

idol!satoru who’s fond of the way you look up at him before apologizing, as if your brain buffered for a second. “Like what you see princess?” Satoru teased. You snap back into reality and turn red, you then started to apologize profusely. “I’m– I’m sorry for staring and bumping into you, I really didn’t mean it!!”

idol!suguru who then whispers something to Satoru. He decided to take matters into their own hands. It was obvious that the man was someone you were trying to get away from and the man was obviously intimidated by Suguru and Satoru.

Before you knew it Satoru went to your side and interwined his fingers with yours. “Just follow our lead princess. We won’t hurt ‘ya, I promise.” He then began to lead you somewhere while Suguru walked right behind you.

You then start to notice some people taking pictures of you and the two random men you just met a minute ago. Suguru then went to your side to make sure you weren’t captured by any more pictures. Although, the constant camera clicks did make you curious. You looked up to catch a glimpse of Suguru and Satoru’s face. It was at that moment you realized that these two weren’t just random men—they were world-famous idols.

idol!satoru who caught you trying to sneak a peek at the both of them. Your blush didn’t go unnoticed as you realized who they were. He chuckles but chose to let it slide. Trust me, he really, really wanted to tease you, but he figured that Suguru and him should take you somewhere safe first.

idols!satosugu who brought you to their hotel room. Suguru tries to make you feel comfortable. He makes small talk as you sat beside him on the couch, asking you about your name, likes and dislikes, what you did today. You were still in shock, you couldn’t believe you were in the hotel room of your favorite idols. Although you weren’t as much of a fan as everyone else, you couldn’t deny how handsome they were.

Suguru also made sure to tell you that the man who was following you couldn’t follow you inside the hotel. Their security here was great and he wanted to reassure you that you were in good hands.

idol!satoru who wants to keep you with him forever. He’s now saying things like, “Oh princess! I wish I could keep you in my pocket and bring you back to Korea!” His words make you blush hard. But Satoru’s words made Suguru sigh, he didn’t want you to think they were like your stalker.

Turns out they planned a semi-secret trip to their hometown. They didn’t tell the world they were going there, but they weren’t exactly hiding it. You were grateful yet utterly confused. Why would they help you out of nowhere?

idol!suguru who insists on walking you home but then they get mass texts from their manager in JJK Entertainment;

manager

Didn’t I tell the both of you to not get into trouble??

Check your socials, you and Satoru were found with some girl.

I swear to god Suguru, this is a PR disaster. We’ll pick you up as soon as possible. For now, don’t go out of your hotel room.

19:27

Suguru sighed as he saw the text messages, he knew they fucked up. “Okay, never mind, we can’t walk you home. Our manager got intel that the press is looking for us in the lobby—the three of us. They saw you in the pictures and now they want to know who you are.” Suguru got on one knee in front of you so that he would be at eye-level. He took both your hands in his and said, “I’m sorry.”

idol!satoru who immediately realizes that means you have to stay with them. “So that means you have to stay with us princess!” He happily states, “But– but maybe the pictures aren’t clear enough! I could sneak past the press and–” you were cut off by your own self as your gaze fell on Suguru, still on his knee holding both your hands.

idol!suguru who sweet-talks you into staying with them. “We’d feel much better if we know you’re safe here with us. Some fans can get crazy y’know.” Suguru spoke as he looked into your eyes. He really wanted to give off that yearning vibe. Which again begs the question, why were they so keen on helping you?

“Okay.. I’ll stay..” you hesitantly replied.

idol!satoru who then steals you from Suguru by hugging you tightly. “Great choice princess!” He was so happy, it was contagious. The both of them didn’t even mention being idols they just talked about their manager as if they had normal jobs. That was until Satoru decided to be cocky about it, “Y’know princess, most fans would’ve said yes immediately! Are you perhaps not a fan? Or even—a hater?!” He said dramatically.

idol!suguru who has a scowl on his face because Satoru stole you and because of Satoru’s question. “That’s none of our business Satoru.” He scolded his friend. Satoru only laughed in return.

idol!satoru who speaks in the most dramatic way possible. “But we’re world-famous idols Suguru! Surely this cute little princess is one of our fans, right princess?”

Gojo Satoru—the Gojo Satoru looked at you confidently as he waited for your answer. It made you a bit nervous, “I– I am a fan! I just didn’t want to be a bother..” you replied. “Plus you can never be too sure about people, I can’t just trust you because you’re idols!” You then sighed at the irony of that statement, “but I did because there was no other choice.”

idols!satosugu who listened to you speak attentively. They were very touchy and loved being close to you. It’s like they lacked physical affection. Suguru in front of you and Satoru beside you, such a cute duo.

idol!satoru who is the whiniest man ever. “So you think we’re bad people? I thought you were better than that princess..” he pouted. “No I don’t! I’m just saying you can’t trust too easily!” Satoru only laughed as you tried to defend yourself. He hummed, sarcastically agreeing to your words as you finished.

“Okay princess, whatever you say.” He mocked as he pulled you onto his lap, embracing you by the waist.

idol!suguru who tries to keep his best friend tamed. “You’re too touchy with her Satoru.” To which Satoru replies with a pout. “But she likes it!” He whines, “don’t you princess?” You turn red at his words. Suguru only sighs, he holds your hand, hoping you aren’t done with them. He just wants to help you.

idol!satoru who knows no personal space and props his chin on your shoulder as he continued to hug your waist from behind.

idol!suguru who rested his head on your lap, tired. At this point he didn’t bother telling Satoru off. He was just reduced to a big sleepy man.

idols!satosugu who were now all over you, both derived of physical affection. You couldn’t escape the idols now.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

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unexpectedtechnicality · 3 months

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4 Times Cody Felt Obi-wan Use the Force, and 1 Time it Was Someone Else

This is the first time I’ve published a fic! But I got very excited for Cody day and quickly finished up this little wip I had going.

Rating: T to be safe, Cody gets pretty injured at one point, but nothing is very graphic.

Light Codywan, about 4,900 words.

I’m very new to this, please let me know if there’s anything I should be tagging!

Rex, Cody decided, was a liar. Rex had fought on Geonosis. He claimed the jedi were astonishing warriors, brilliant strategists, excellent all around.

Well, maybe the problem wasn’t Rex’s integrity. After all, he hadn’t met his general until after the Battle of Geonosis. And he had never met Cody’s for that matter.

Not that High General Kenobi wasn’t an astonishing warrior, brilliant strategist, or seemingly excellent all around kind of guy. Just…Skywalker had gotten it somewhere, and ��somewhere” was starting to sound a lot like “Kenobi.”

The original plan had been solid. Cody honestly couldn't have improved upon it. The problem had come when the charges went off early, cutting off their narrow rock bridge back to the Negotiator and stranding Cody and the general on the other side.

Technically that wasn’t the general’s fault. But if they had left a few minutes earlier…

“I’ve got an idea.”

Cody’s musing was interrupted by the general, who was staring off the edge of the cliff into the mist.

“Sir?”

“The canyon leads back around to the rendezvous point, it’s just a few kliks further.”

Cody stared at him. He couldn't really mean–

The general looked up serenely. “We’ll have to jump.”

Cody peered down into the mist. The ground was not visible. “Sir, we have no idea how far down it is.”

“It’s perfectly alright Commander. Just a slight detour.”

Sensible, Rex had said. They’re good leaders, they think things through. Cody was never listening to a word his brother said again.

Blaster fire sounded somewhere behind them. Kenobi smiled. “Now or never, Commander. I’ll go first, wait about 10 seconds and then jump.”

Before Cody could protest, he was gone. Kriff. His general had just committed suicide rather than be taken by the enemy and expected Cody to follow. This couldn’t be what the Kaminoans meant when they said good soldiers followed orders. What the kriff!

“Jump, Commander!” The general’s voice floated up from below, almost like it was too far to be heard properly. Had he even heard it at all?

A full platoon of droids appeared behind him. Cody glanced at them, weighed his options, cursed his short existence, his general, and Rex for good measure, then jumped.

He plummeted through the mist, tense, waiting for the crunch of his bones against the rocky floor. But before he could reach the bottom, the air seemed to condense around him. It was as though time slowed down. The mist thickened, and it nearly felt like he fell softly into a net, like he was still in drop training. Something felt familiar about it. Like someone he knew, or–

The mist cleared and there, a few feet below him was General Kenobi, hand outstretched and brow furrowed in concentration. Gently, he lowered Cody until his feet were on the ground, and the strange feeling surrounding him dissipated.

Kenobi grinned. “See? Perfectly fine.”

Cody could only nod vaguely, slightly stunned. “Yes….ah, sir.”

“Now come on, we don’t want to keep our men waiting, do we?”

Cody smiled, and despite his bucket still being on his head, it felt like Kenobi knew. “No, sir.”

Cody jolted awake, his comm blaring. It was his off shift, and they were slow traveling through neutral space. What could have possibly happened in the few short hours he had to sleep? He scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced to his left, where his chest plate was floating next to the lumpy pillow from—

Hang on.

Suddenly very awake, Cody surveyed the room to discover that something had happened to the artificial gravity on the ship and he was now floating in the middle of his quarters surrounded by his own armor and meager belongings.

Just great.

I’m assigning every man in maintenance to latrines for a month if this is someone’s idea of a practical joke.

Cody located his comm, floating a few meters away near the door. Angling himself that way, he kicked his feet and swam the best he could with his arms. After a few minutes, he managed to grab it and stop the infernal beeping.

“Go for Cody,” he snapped.

“Ah! Commander, sorry to wake you. We have a bit of a…situation.”

“You don’t say.”

He could practically hear the smile in Kenobi’s voice. “Yes, well, if you could meet me on the bridge?”

Cody rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Putting on his armor proved to be quite a challenge when all of it was floating in a different corner of the room. Cody ended up kicking off every wall, and the ceiling several times just to get kitted up. It took far longer than normal. Every time he wasn’t intentionally moving, he was drifting.

Slapping the control for the door while speeding at it was probably not the best strategy, but luckily it opened before he could slam into it. Then Cody began the arduous task of propelling himself to the bridge. Eventually he settled into a bit of a rhythm: kick off a doorway or wall, attempt to “swim” the right direction, then give up and desperately flap about until the destination was reached. Rinse and repeat.

The way to the bridge passed the mess hall, as well as several busy corridors. He passed brothers who seemed to be moving with ease through the space, tumbling slowly through the air, gliding from one doorway to the next. He passed Waxer and Boil as he flailed his way past the mess, both of whom took one look at him and burst out laughing.

KP for a week shut them up quickly enough.

When the bridge was finally in sight, Cody had just about had enough. The door slid open to admit him, presenting one of the strangest things he had ever seen.

The bridge was the picture of order. Officers floated near their work stations, calmly anchoring themselves with one hand or foot tucked into a chair or railing. As he watched, an engineer pushed off the central holo table and soared gracefully to the hyperdrive console, inputting numbers from above with ease.

At the center of it all, floating upside down with his robes billowing around him like a flower, was General Kenobi. When he saw Cody, gripping the doorway for dear life and gaping beneath his helmet, Kenobi smiled and lifted a hand, beginning to slowly turn himself upright to his usual spot on the walkway.

Cody gave himself a little shove, aimed for his typical spot next to the general, and crossed his fingers.

“Good to have you, Commander. As you can see, we got into a minor skirmish with a passing neutral envoy. We came to a temporary truce, but I’m still in discussion with them to see if they will continue to attempt to blow us out of the sky. One of their shots knocked out our artificial gravity.”

Cody was struggling to keep himself near the general. His initial push had gotten him nearly where he wanted to be, but he was drifting forward. He tucked in slightly, trying to roll himself back.

“I would like your opinion on a plan of attack should it be necessary. Over half the battalion is on rest right now, and I’d hate to rouse them.”

His roll had failed. Now Cody was drifting upwards to Kenobi’s right, slowly turning away from him. Letting out a frustrated groan, Cody attempted to twist himself back to rights.

“One option would be to— Cody?”

“Sorry, sir. Give me a minute.” He renewed his twisting efforts with more vigor. How was Kenobi staying in one place when— oh. The kriffing force. “General, uh. Would you mind—?”

“Oh! My apologies Cody. Yes, one moment.”

A light, warm pressure materialized at his right hip, then his left, and he began to turn to face the general and drift down to stand next to him. It was almost as if someone had put their hand– no, not someone. Kenobi. It was most definitely Kenobi’s hands resting comfortably at Cody’s waist, and now anchoring him to the floor. He turned to look at the general, and found his face much closer than expected, eyes seeming to bore right through his visor.

Cody felt his face heat under his bucket. “Uh. Yes. Thank you, sir.”

The general cleared his throat. Was it Cody’s imagination, or was he blushing too? “Of course, commander. Can’t have you floating away, now, can we?”

Force-Kenobi’s hands stayed comfortably at Cody’s sides the rest of the battle, and Cody…found he didn’t really mind.

His ears were ringing. Cody blinked, trying to clear his vision. What—?

There was a blast somewhere to his right. Instinctively, he tried to curl up to protect his head. Fire erupted across his left side, shoulder to knee, ripping a ragged scream from his throat. He flopped back onto his back, gasping for air. He must have been hit by a blast earlier. No way to tell how long ago.

“There!”

A med speeder pulled up next to him, and Neat, one of their junior medics hopped off.

“Don’t worry commander, we’ve got you.”

Last I remember Obi– the general was by me. The thought sent adrenaline spiking through his veins, pain forgotten.

“Neat.”

“Sir?”

“The…the general, he–”

“He’s safe, sir, please don’t move.”

Neat began running a scanner down his side, but Cody needed visual confirmation on Obi-wan. Obi-wan. He had asked him to call him Obi-wan, alone in his quarters, just a week earlier. If something had happened to him before Cody could figure out—

“Cody!”

Obi-wan came skidding to a halt next to their little party and dropped to his knees beside Cody. “There you are,” he panted. “Neat?”

Neat scowled. “He won’t lie still,” he griped, as Cody pushed up on his elbows to check if Obi-wan was hurt. “Sir, please—“

Finishing his once-over of Obi-wan (a few scratches and bruises but otherwise unharmed, unfairly he seemed to be glowing slightly in the setting sun), Cody finally let himself relax. “Sorry, Neat. Go ahead.”

As Neat did his scan, Obi-wan sent him a slightly reproachful look. “You took the brunt of the blast, Commander, not me. I’m perfectly fine.” He glanced at Cody’s side, brow furrowing.

The pain was starting to creep back, like several hot pokers lined up against his side. Cody leaned his head back against the ground. “Had to be sure. Couldn’t remember.”

Obi-wan frowned, looking even more worried, and the scanner beeped to indicate a finished report.

Neat swore. “There’s a lot of shrapnel in his side. He’s loosing a lot of blood. I need to remove what I can to staunch the bleeding now and then get him back to base to get the rest out. Possibly put him in bacta.”

Cody was starting to get worried. He tried to look down at the wound, but Obi-wan stopped him with a gentle hand under his chin. “It’ll be fine, Cody.”

Cody. They’d agreed no first names during battle (though Cody wasn’t counting the sanctity of his own mind, the one thing that was truly his own), if Obi-wan was calling him Cody, it was bad.

“General, I’m going to start operating, I might need you to help hold him down.”

Obi-wan shifted, taking Cody’s right hand in his own and holding tight. “Ready.”

Cody braced himself, but when Neat first started prodding at his knee he couldn’t hold back the grunt, gripping Obi-wan’s hand and twitching away from the pain. Neat waiting half a second, then started back in. Every touch felt like a brand, or like the time he had picked up the wrong end of a smoking blaster as a cadet. There were tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Obi-was rested his arm across Cody’s chest to keep him still.

Neat continued his field surgery. “This one’s in deeper. Take a breath, commander.”

Cody tried to do as he was told, but it was like a lance shot through his thigh. He bucked against Obi-wan’s hold, and Neat swore again as everything was jostled.

“General,” Neat pleaded.

“One moment.” Obi-wan shifted, moving so Cody’s head was resting on his knees. “I’m going to try something different. Cody?”

Cody nodded, hissing through his teeth, trying to ride out the pain. He watched above him as Obi-wan closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath.

The strange sensation of the air solidifying around him that Cody was beginning to recognize as the force surrounded him. A warm feeling, like a heavy, plush blanket pressed down around him. Experimentally, he tried to shift his right leg, and found that aside from breathing, he couldn’t move at all.

It’s should have alarmed him. But the soft, warm feeling wasn’t suffocating…it was comforting. It felt familiar, like the net had, and the hands when the artificial gravity had been broken. Like he was wrapped in a blanket of Obi-wan, or his presence, or something. He vaguely registered Obi-wan telling Neat to continue. Obi-wan rested one hand on the side of Cody’s head, cradling his face, the other supporting the back of his head, and Cody let himself relax into the touch.

The pain was still there, in his leg, now moving up toward his hip, but it seemed…muted. He blinked up at Obi-wan, the picture of serenity.

Alright?

If he could have, Cody would have jumped at Obi-wan’s voice in his head. But it just seemed…natural.

Yes, he thought.

Sorry, I should have asked if this was okay. I was worried.

It’s okay. It’s…nice, actually.

Neat had reached his side now, the familiar cool feeling of bacta covering his thigh. One tug made Cody flinch, and the force-blanket pressed down a little tighter, like he was wrapped up in a bedroll.

The warm, safe feeling was still present all over, but it was starting to condense in one spot, right at the base of his skull, under Obi-wan’s finger. A little bright spot, almost like someone had turned on a light in his brain somehow. It felt right though, especially in his slightly woozy state, so Cody didn’t question it.

Obi-wan and Neat were talking above him, but Cody couldn’t quite make out the words. That was alright, he thought. They would take care of him. Obi-wan said something that almost looked like “sleep.”

A nap didn’t really sound bad. Maybe he’d just shut his eyes for a few minutes. Obi-wan smiled down at him.

I’ll be there when you wake up.

And he was. Everything back to normal. The blanket-feeling was gone. But if Cody really concentrated, he could still feel that little spark in the base of his skull. The little spark that felt like Obi-wan.

At this point, Cody wasn’t even surprised when he and Obi-wan were separated from the rest of the men during the battle. This time, it had been a strange feeling in the force that Obi-wan had insisted on following, leading them through a strange cave system in the middle of the gigantic jungle that may have once been a temple of some kind. It had allowed them to sneak behind enemy lines and take out the tactical droid, allowing the 212th to finish the battle with relative ease, however, the feeling had also gone away quickly after, and Cody was beginning to think Obi-wan did not, as he claimed, remember the way back.

“The left tunnel. I’m sure of it.”

“Are you sure we haven’t been this way before, sir?”

“I thought we agreed on first names when we were alone, Cody.” Obi-wan set off down the left tunnel.

Cody snorted, but followed him, helmet clacking against his thigh plate where it was clipped at his hip. “We did. However we are technically on duty, and you’re being a stubborn bantha. Sir.”

Obi-wan turned with an expression of mock outrage. “Me? Stubborn? My dear commander, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Have you no faith in me?”

He gestured in front of them, and sure enough, there was finally light at the end of the tunnel. Cody just shook his head, smiling.

They emerged into the massive, muggy jungle and Cody immediately booted up his comm and nav, which hadn’t been working in the caverns anyway. The map of the surface he had downloaded popped up, with the little orange beacon marking their base. Several kliks away.

“I thought we entered the caves just a klik from camp?”

Obi-wan frowned. “We did. Where are we now?”

Cody lifted his arm to show him. “You’re sure you didn’t get turned around in there?”

“Of course not, clearly the caves changed,” Obi-wan said primly. “Well, I suppose we could go back in.”

“Absolutely not. We are staying out here and following the route back. It’s the same distance, just with sunlight.”

They walked in companionable silence through the giant trees for a while, stopping every so often to check the map. They must have passed at least a dozen trees with trunks so wide Cody couldn’t see the other side before he broke the silence.

“Obi-wan, can I ask you something?” The other man nodded. “A little while back, when I was injured and you…helped Neat operate, I think something else might have happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“While you were…talking in my head, it started to feel like there was…a spot. A light? A little patch of warmth, right at the base of my skull. And afterwards, when I was out of bacta, it was still there. It is still there. At first I thought maybe it was something medical, but Neat scanned me again and said everything was normal. The more I thought about it, the more I tried to…interact with it, I guess, the more I realized…it feel like you. Like you inside my head somehow.”

Obi-wan looked pensive. “Fascinating.”

“Do you know what it is? It doesn’t feel harmful.”

They waded through a small stream, and Obi-wan offered Cody his hand to pull him up onto the far bank.

“In the Jedi Order, master and padawan pairs typically form a force bond. A link that lets them communicate directly with each other, often feel what the other is feeling, form a deeper relationship with that person. Usually, it’s only possible for someone force sensitive to form bonds.”

Cody pushed a branch out of their way as they climbed over some roots. He could see where this was going. “But clones aren’t force sensitive, so…that’s not what this is.”

Obi-wan hummed. “I’ve heard of a few rare exceptions. The force is in all things, Cody.”

After a few minutes, Cody worked up the courage to ask. “Do you feel anything? In your head?”

“It’s difficult to tell. I do feel quite strongly about you, but I can feel you externally in the force. I also have several other bonds. Anakin and I never fully dissolved our training bond, and I have a small bond with Ashoka as well. I have a different type of bond with Quinlan, and sometimes I can still feel the remains of my bond with Qui-gon. I suspect it would be easier to tell if we communicated through the force but you and I never seem to have the need,” he said, smiling gently at Cody.

Cody smiled back, and some of the anxiety he hadn’t even realized he was feeling melted away. He glanced down at his map. “Should be just over this ridge.”

They came over the top of the hill together, and Cody had to bite back a groan of frustration. In front of them was a downed tree, one of the super massive ones with the unimaginably wide trunks. The sun was going down. They didn’t have time to go around, and the trunk was so high Cody wasn’t sure they could climb over. His mind raced, trying to come up with a solution.

“Ah,” Obi-wan said, surveying the surrounding area. “I suppose we have to guess which was is shorter. We went left before, this time maybe we go—“

“Throw me.”

“I’m sorry?”

Cody grinned. “We go straight over. I run, and jump, and you throw me. Then you leap over after. We use the force.”

Obi-wan grinned back. “I don’t always say I believe in destiny, but surely Cody, you were sent to me straight from the force. Ready?”

Cody backed up, setting his stance. He was going to aim right for the center of the span of trunk in front of them. He nodded to Obi-wan, then took off running. Once he had reached top speed, he leapt into the air, and watched the trunk fly closer to his face until—

A warm, sweet smelling breeze, like freshly brewed tea swept him up, carrying him up, up, and over the trunk. He was so high the LAAT/is at the base below him looked like small animals, surrounded by swarms of tiny ant-troopers packing up to fly back to the Negotiator. Laughing, Cody did a somersault in the air as he flew over the tree, then spread his arms like he was parachuting and let the Obi-wan-wind carry him all the way to the ground, where he tumbled into the grass, still giddy.

A moment later, Obi-wan landed, cat-like, next to him, and helped him to his feet, laughing and pushing wind-swept hair out of his eyes.

“You’re right commander, that was much more fun than going around.”

+ 1

Cody crept through the hallway, blaster pointed ahead of him. A light flashed on his HUD, Boil checking in. Waxer was due in 5 minutes, then Wooley. They’d set up a rotating check in system as they fanned out to scour the seemingly abandoned ship they’d been sent to investigate. If you asked Cody, splitting up was just asking for trouble, especially since no one was with his trouble magnet of a general. But it was the quickest way to get them out of here, so he’d acquiesced.

Something rattled behind a door as he passed. He sighed, then pressed himself up against the wall, out of sight, and keyed the door open. Nothing jumped out, so he peeked around the corner.

It was a medium sized storage bay, and he was suddenly very thankful his door was obscured by crates, as he could hear vague voices coming from somewhere else in the room. The door slid silently shut behind him as he slipped in, trying to find a vantage point to see who was there through the crates.

He found a reasonably defendable spot in the corner and considered updating his men, but when he brought up his comm system it was like there was some sort of interference. Strange. No matter, they had his last location and his next check in was in only a few minutes, so someone would come join him eventually.

Through a gap in the crates, he could just make out two figures, one in a cloak and speaking to another cloaked figure who– oh. One figure, one hologram. Strange. They’d found no sign of crew aboard this vessel. He turned up his mic, trying to make out what they were saying.

“...plan has worked perfectly. They’ve already arrived,” the hologram was saying.

“Then they will soon be dead,” the other replied, and Cody’s blood ran cold. He suddenly had a very, very bad feeling about this mission. He knew that voice.

“I will leave you to your work.” The figure standing in the cargo bay removed her hood and knelt, confirming Cody’s suspicion.

Ventress.

Kriff. He had to get out of here, or signal his men, Obi-wan. He checked the time. His check in had passed two minutes ago, they’d be getting worried now. Slightly frantic, he tapped at his comm, willing it to work. What was the point of the kriffing antenna on his shoulder if he couldn’t get through? He remembered what Wolffe had looked like when he visited him in the med center after his encounter with Ventress. He couldn’t face her alone.

The crates surrounding him suddenly blasted away, leaving him exposed in his little corner. Cody looked up to find Ventress stalking straight towards him.

“Poor little clone, where did your friends go?”

Cody leapt to his feet, blaster already primed to shoot, when a wall of pure something slammed into him, forcing him to drop his blaster and throwing him against the wall behind him. Immediately he scrambled to get up, but Ventress threw one hand out, and a freezing cold vice closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground.

He clawed at the invisible grip, but there was nothing there. He choked, straining to get a breath, but it was pointless. She dragged him through the air, until he was just a few inches from her face. Cody’s bucket floated itself off his head, flying away and clattering to the ground somewhere. The pressure on his neck eased ever so slightly, and Cody sucked in as much air as he could before it tightened again.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” Ventress crooned, tracing one fingernail down his scar in a grotesque facsimile of how Obi-wan sometimes did when– focus, Cody. “Now. As much as I’d love to just kill you and get on with it, you know what part of the ship our dear Kenobi is on, don’t you?”

Cody tried to jerk away from the clawed fingers tracing his temples, but found the ice cold vice had spread to his entire body. He could breathe now, barely, but he couldn’t move even a single muscle. It was nothing like when Obi-wan had used the force around him before. That was…gentle, personal, it felt safe. This was anything but. Never before had Cody understood the raw power force users had at their disposal. It wanted to rip him limb from limb. Fear gnawed at his stomach. If only his comm had worked–

“Somewhere in that head of yours, we just have to find it.”

In his head. That was it! Desperately, as Ventress bared her teeth, Cody reached for the last warm spot on his being– a force bond, Obi-wan had called it. HELP, he thought, OBI–

Pain like he had never felt erupted from his temples, and he vaguely registered Ventress laughing as twin ice picks drove themselves through his skull, behind his eyes, in his brain, in whatever it was inside him that made him, him.

Cody screamed, frozen in the air, no way to escape as she tore through his mind, looking for whatever it was she wanted, Cody couldn’t remember any more. There was only the freezing, burning pain.

It could have been hours, could have been minutes, but without warning, the pain stopped, and Cody found himself flying through the air and into the far wall. Pressure like a million duracrete bricks immobilized him a few feet off the ground, limbs splayed out like a pinned bug. Blinking the haze out of his eyes, he was confronted with two blurry forms whirling around the room; red and blue lights flashing. As his vision finally cleared he could make out Ventress, locked in combat with–

Thank the stars, Obi-wan. There was a fierce expression on his face as he met Ventress blow for blow. As Cody watched, Obi-wan glanced his way for a split second, then went back to the fight with renewed vigor. Unable to do anything, Cody found his eyes drifting shut.

He woke a short time later when he tumbled to the ground in a heap, the force holding him to the wall having vanished. Obi-wan was hurrying over to him from across the room, Ventress presumably having run away. Cody groaned.

“Full evac, effective immediately. I’ll meet you back at the ship with the commander,” Obi-was was saying into his comm, several tinny “yessirs” echoing out of it.

“Cody, are you alright?”

Cody carefully felt along his throat with one hand. “Fine, I think. How–” he grimaced. His body felt like one giant bruise. He was still freezing. “How did you find me?”

Obi-was smiled wanly. “You called. I suppose it is a force bond, and does work both ways, though I can think of several other ways we could have tested it without you being in mortal peril.”

“I’ll try to remember that for next time.”

Obi-wan shook his head, reaching one hand out to the side. Cody’s bucket flew into it like it was magnetized, and Obi-wan carefully fit it back over his head, then gently pulled him to his feet. Cody half-expected Obi-wan to call on the force and simply levitate him back to their ship, but instead he hefted Cody’s over his shoulder and wrapped his own around his waist. His other hand came up to support Cody’s chest.

Cody leaned into him as they trudged back to the ship, letting Obi-wan take a fair amount of his weight.

“For the record,” he said, “I like it much better when you’re the one throwing me around with the force.”

“Careful commander,” Obi-wan teased, raising an eyebrow, “If someone hears you say that they might get the wrong idea.”

Cody glared at him, and concentrated all his effort on lifting one arm to smack him lightly in the chest. Obi-wan laughed, and Cody felt the world slide back into place around him.

“But yes, Cody, I much prefer that also.”

#Coday #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #codywan #star wars #Star Wars fanfiction #star Wars fic #fan fiction

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blainesebastian · 4 months

Text

something real

words: 13,045 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: SFW except for one explicit scene summary: i took inspo from a request about fake!dating for a wedding and from another film with a similar premise. what else do you do when your ex is getting married? hire a fake date notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating. tag list: @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan, @stylespresleyhearted,

“You’re losing it.”

A short laugh escapes your lips because god, maybe you are. This all started out easily enough—you needed a date for your ex’s wedding. Right, the fact that you were even invited kind of drives you crazy. It’s not like you didn’t have a good relationship with Todd, you did? But it also doesn’t change the fact how things ended—he ‘meant’ to break things off with you but started seeing someone at the same time. Claire. The girl he’s marrying. But you’re not about to go through life with grudges and anger when you can just let things go.

Which is why you’ve entertained this wedding invitation in the first place?

But to go alone? That’s a fate worse than death.

Which, ironically, is exactly what your friend, Jill, is telling you you’re going to be with this idea you’ve come up with.

“It’s all perfectly safe.” You mutter, sliding onto a bar stool and turning to look at her. You’re wearing a light blue dress, pair of booties, and jean jacket. Just casual enough but also hinting you’ve got a figure to show off if you really wanted to.

She scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says before they end up on 60 Minutes.”

You can’t help but smile, tugging the file out of your course before setting it on the bar top. “Do you want me to explain it again?”

Jill puts her hands on her hips—as if that will somehow make her comfortable with all of this, but she’s not protesting either. So you open up the file and—

“So my neighbor’s used this service before to go to her high school reunion, you know, so she didn’t end up there alone. She went onto their online platform, filled out a survey and bam, she was matched with someone to go.”

Jill narrows her eyes, “For twenty thousand dollars.”

“Well it’s not charity,” You throw back, “I’ve done the research, there’s a ton of reviews—all positive. It’s not like it’s about sex or anything, it’s just…companionship for one event.”

Jill looks at the file, crinkling her nose, “There’s so many other ways you could have done this—Rick, the guy in 6B? He’s always thought you were cute.”

You laugh a little, “If I go out with Rick, there is a good chance I’ll end up missing some limbs—dude is creepy, Jill.”

Her friend rolls her eyes but it’s fond, opening up the file and pointing to a blank spot where this guy’s photo should be, “Okay, but you don’t even get to know what he looks like?”

“I think it was my Wi-Fi,” You state honestly, “Some of the images weren’t loading. But that’s why you’re here,” You grin, “Safety measures. So—” You gently push on one of her hips, “Go find a table, order a drink while I wait for Austin.”

“That’s the gigolo’s name?”

“Wedding date,” You correct, shooing her away until she heads to a table.

Taking a breath, you look at the reflective surface of the bar mirror in front of you, mentally praying that this somehow not a huge mistake and order a drink.

Chewing on the drunken cherry in your Manhattan, you glance down the bar as you see someone handsome talking to a small group of women. You wonder if that’s Austin, looking for you—he’s about ten minutes late. Your stomach clenches anxiously, knowing that maybe Jill was right and this is utterly ridiculous. But…you got invited to the wedding late (either it was a last-minute thought or it got lost in the mail) but there was no way you could organically find someone to ask.

Sure, you could have brought Jill or some other friend but…deep down? You know this is about making Todd feel utterly stupid for cheating on you, for leaving you for someone else. You don’t want him back, of course, but that feeling of satisfaction? That look on his face when he sees you with someone else? You want it.

You can’t not go and you can’t find someone random in your life already to go with…so when your neighbor mentioned this quick fix? How could you not look into it? You’ve got a ton of money saved from over the years, not to mention a small investment your grandfather put in your name. What’s the harm in looking into this, right?

“Y/N?”

Turning on the bar stool, you nearly swallow your own tongue as you’re met face to face with who you assume is Austin. And joke’s on you because he’s ten times more beautiful than the other guy at the bar you saw talking to those women. He’s tall, lean, in a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. Easily handsome, like…James Dean or Elvis Presley. Doesn’t have to try very hard.

And suddenly something hysterical crawls up your throat as he takes a seat next to you, introduces himself as Austin, and apologizes for being late because of traffic because—

“I’m sorry—” You interrupt, shaking your head, “This uh, this isn’t going to work.”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, his mouth opening and closing, “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” You laugh lightly, cheeks heating up. There’s this sickly sensation gripping your stomach, telling you to run, “No one is going to believe that we’re dating.”

And maybe that’s something oddly pathetic you shouldn’t have uttered outloud because what’s even worse, Austin seems to grip what you’re saying and his features soften. You do not want pity or sympathy, you’re just…stating a fact.

Austin takes in a soft breath and looks towards the bartender, ordering himself a beer, confusing you a little because you expected him to just…take off. There’s no money involved at this point, it’s a clean break. This meeting is just to discuss details.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” He states gently, eyes sweeping over your form. And god, he’s good, isn’t he? You suppose this is his job, making women feel good. Confident. Even though it’s all a lie.

Letting out a breath as his drink is set down on the bar, you figure there’s no harm in…talking with him, right? He came all this way; you can at least wait until he finishes his beer to turn him down. You’ll just go to this damn wedding alone—it’s really not that big of a deal, right?

Austin takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up on a hook underneath the bar and he smells amazing—some sort of cologne that’s fresh and almost citrusy. You run a hand through your hair and order another Manhattan.

“So your request said a wedding?”

“My ex,” You clarify, “And I don’t want him back, or anything, I just want him to feel like an idiot.”

Austin smiles a little, humming— “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m assumin’ he already is one.”

A small laugh stutters forward in your chest because yes, he is. Your shoulders start to relax just a little because maybe Austin gets it. By not going or going alone you…you don’t want Todd to think that he’s somehow gotten one over you, that you’re lonely or broken ever since you’ve separated.

“Have you…done weddings before?”

He shifts a little on the barstool so that he’s facing you a little easier, “I’ve done weddings the most,” He admits, “Two high school reunions, one funeral.”

You raise your eyebrows, setting your drink down on the bar. “A funeral?”

Austin shrugs lightly, “Some women just want a hand to hold on their hardest day, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to.” He licks his lips, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m not one to judge.”

You straighten your shoulders and…you suppose you’re really not in a position to do that either, given you’re here to hire Austin so you feel less alone and pathetic at a wedding. You take a long look at him for a moment, —curious. He doesn’t want to be doing anything else?

“Can I ask—why are you doing this?” Your fingers trace shapes into the condensation on your glass. “This whole fake-date program?”

Austin clears his throat, “You can ask me whatever you want,” He starts and that within itself seems like a dangerous proposition. “I work at this café near here but uh, it doesn’t exactly bring a lot of money in. I want to be an actor, like…a serious one, the money I get from these dates I’m savin’ up to go to L.A.”

And he essentially gets to pretend to be someone he’s not. Like an endless list of auditions.

There are other things you want to ask, other questions stuck in your throat about doing weddings. Why weddings? The whole concept seems like a bad idea—a high school reunion, a holiday party, even a funeral makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Those aren’t emotionally connected events, there’s no…opportunities to fall into something deeper than what the contract of attachment allows. But weddings? It’s about love and finding your person and…going to one with someone else feels like such a slippery slope.

Or maybe it doesn’t because Austin is a professional.

“So if I…if we do this, what does it entail, exactly?” You take another sip of your drink, as if you need the liquid courage for his response.

A small smile graces his handsome face again, “Don’t overthink it. It’s whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel like there’s this heat uncoiling in your belly even though he’s not suggesting anything. Somehow, it’s in the ocean blue of his eyes—a depth there. You clear your throat, “You mean uh—if I require a dance partner? Because I love to dance at weddings…usually badly.”

Austin laughs warmly but shakes his head. “I meant if I was goin’ as your date or a boyfriend.”

And oh, of course, you hadn’t even thought about it but of course Austin would want a more specific role to sink his teeth into and your mind spins about what you want to do. It’s just one night, one silly wedding, there’s no long con here. It’s not like Todd will even care who you show up with, right? You’re the one who wants to feel less lonely—

And yet—

“You can think about it, if you need to—”

“Boyfriend.” You say, cutting him off. Heat returns to your cheeks…mise well go big or go home, right? If you’re going to do this? This has got to be a bad idea, right?

“Okay,” Austin smiles, “Good.”

So it’s settled that he’ll meet you at your place beforehand, you’ll iron out details of your relationship in case anyone asks and then you’ll go to the wedding together.

Austin stands and he tosses some cash on the bar counter (enough to cover your drink as well) and he hovers for a moment, tugging on his leather jacket. “My number’s in the file, in case you need it.”

Then there’s a moment where Austin watches you, fixing the lapels of his jacket. His one hand then rests on the bar, taking a step closer to you, and the way that you’re seated, your legs open just slightly to accommodate his body in your space.

“Don’t hit me, alright?” He smiles a little, leaning down, and honestly you’re the one that feels like you’re getting sucker punched in the stomach. Air right out of your lungs. “It was nice meeting you.”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes flutter to his lips, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s more than enough time for you to pull away, but you don’t, so he kisses you.

It’s nothing obscene, but slow and gentle. Warm. Just enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage, electricity singing in your veins. You suppose it’s something you should get used to if Austin is going to pass as your boyfriend.

You raise your eyebrows a little as he pulls away, hot under the collar of your jean jacket.

“Figure we’d just get that out of the way so you could concentrate.” He teases and god, your mind is spinning. You kinda hate that he’s made you feel like this so easily, like somehow it’s second nature.

“What, that doesn’t cost extra?” You manage to throw out there, finding your voice.

Austin grins, another soft laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

You let out a slow breath, running a hand over your hair as you watch him walk out of the bar before downing the rest of your drink.

“So that’s your date, huh?” Jill asks as she comes up behind you—honestly her voice kinda sounds like cotton in your ears. “Todd is gonna swallow his own tongue.”

And you can’t help but grin.

You meet one more time before the wedding, just…something to solidify that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. But also to get a bit more comfortable around Austin and the fact that he’s going to be your boyfriend. You let out a slow breath, aggravated by how crazy that sounds. Maybe Jill’s right, maybe this is a bad idea (despite how handsome and charming Austin is).

He’s picked you up to go somewhere but won’t tell you where. And when the engine turns off, you undo your seatbelt and look out the windshield, “A custard house?”

“Was hopin’ you could go for somethin’ sweet,” Austin smiles a little, “They make these waffle custard sandwiches that’ll change your life.”

You hum lightly and start to get out of the car, a little confused because…well, you’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. “We’re here for ice cream sandwiches?”

Austin scrunches his nose in mock offense at her flippant description, “No, we’re here for waffle custard. You need to work on listenin’, come on.” He gets out of the car too and locks the doors.

You know you’re about to paying Austin a decent amount of money to be your stand-in date, your fake boyfriend, dragging him to this wedding for god knows what reasons make sense in your head but…you suppose you didn’t count on him being like this. A tiny bit thoughtful, sweet, funny even.

Or maybe he’s already a decent actor.

You follow him to the counter, your eyes trailing over at least thirty different custard flavors—not only that, but there’s twice as many toppings. How are you supposed to choose?

“You know what you want already?” You ask as Austin rolls up the sleeves of his jean jacket a little.

“I always know what I want.” He leans on the counter, turning towards the woman at the register to order French vanilla—but stops when you make a noise. He looks at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ you wanna share?”

You purse your lips and rocks back onto your heels, shaking your head, “No I just…vanilla, really? You don’t seem like the type.” She teases.

Austin smirks, straightening his back. “Oh, huh.” He motions to the large display menu. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby. What should I order?”

You let the pet name slide (and it does, like heated molasses right down in your veins), which is probably a dangerous slippery slope, but you’re too busy trying to take in a custard selection at the moment to care. You chew on your lower lip, slipping through the flavors written in chalk on the board and decides to go with your favorite pairing—

“He’ll have chocolate and strawberry custard in that waffle sandwich thing with…” You hum, “Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles.” You smile, clearly happy with your selection before ordering the same for yourself…except you also get chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Because why the hell not?

“You’re gonna have that all over you before the night is over.” Austin motions to the dripping mess in your hands, carefully shelled between fresh waffles wrapped up in foil.

You slide yourself onto the hood of Austin’s car, almost sliding back down but managing to lean against the windshield before losing your custard sandwich.

“Challenge accepted.”

Austin smiles a little, sitting down next to you, looking far too handsome sprawled out on his car.

You realize that everything between you both is so dangerous, wrapped in gentle dynamite, the softest breath or touch capable of explosion. But it’s also tantalizing in a way that excites you—Austin is different, gentle but rough with the walls he keeps up.

Everything about this is a lie –circles in your head, over and over, trying to remind you not to take anything too seriously. And yet? You bury it deep with a bite of your custard sandwich. You moan softly and lick chocolate off your lips because Jesus, this is incredible.

Austin smirks, licking custard between the waffle before he takes a bite of his own. “Told you it was worth the stop.”

“I’m not going to admit you somehow know all just because you have decent taste in custard.” You smile and takes another bite of your waffle sandwich, leaning back to watch cars drive by.

“Give it time.” Austin glances over and you can feel his gaze, always like a magnet tracing the curves of your body. You want to tell him that you enjoy when he looks at you like that, to be felt and seen all at the same time, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You wonder if he looks at every woman who’s ever paid him like that.

You’re not sure you want to know.

You turn and meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before a small smile graces your lips. “Do you really work at a café?”

He nods, leaning further up against the windshield. “It’s called Mug Half Full; been there about three years.” He licks his lips, pulling a napkin from his pants pocket and wiping his chin where he feels caramel sticking. “What do you do? You didn’t mention it in your email.”

You swallow down a bought of self-loathing at the question and decide to take another bite of your sandwich; sweet hiding sour. “I uh, I’m kinda in-between jobs at the moment.” You know Austin has to be able to see through that terrible excuse of an answer. “I’m currently getting an online degree in education.”

Austin finishes his custard waffle, which is admirable because yours is two seconds away from becoming soup in your hands. You lick at the sides as he crumples up a napkin and puts his trash in a can nearby so it’s not in either of your way.

“What do you want to do?”

The question shouldn’t offend you as much as it does, the want and need to defend yourself raising your hackles a bit. You bite down on reacting too sorely; he’s just asking a question—and you realize you haven’t given him a reason not to ask something like that. Your bland response is what prompts the statement.

You suppose you’re just…too used to people asking that, especially since society makes you feel like you somehow got a late start in figuring things out. In reality, it’s never too early or too late to be whoever you want. You’re just…getting to that.

You clear your throat, setting your custard sandwich down on your lap a moment, the foil protecting your clothes. “I have no idea,” You admit with a soft laugh, “My relationship with my ex kinda took all my energy—supporting whatever he needed, you know? Now I’m just starting to figure myself out.” And you’re proud of that progress, even though it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill sometimes. “I might teach maybe, one day.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, slight amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. He smiles gently, looking down at your hands before he picks up your sandwich and licks whipped cream off the corner. Ridiculously obscene and unnecessary but you let him do it anyways.

You have apparently become accustomed to sharing things—you’ve noticed that he continues the ruse of soft touches and intimate gestures when no one’s watching. You think it’s to help solidify the fact that you’re supposed to be dating, supposed to be into one another. Which isn’t very hard when he does things like that with his tongue.

Austin tosses your trash like he did with his own before turning to look at you, handing you a napkin to wipe your hands off. “I could tell you wanted more. And you know, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Then why does it feel so guilty for you to admit— “Sometimes it feels selfish, to want things for myself.” You swallow, letting it sink into the air. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even your best friend or your parents.

“Sounds like someone really selfish made you feel that way.” He says gently and it’s like…wool has been taken off your eyes. Something you maybe knew but needed to hear.

It’s not what you expect him to say, not in the slightest, but it warms you from the inside out either way. You nod because yes, you’ve never thought about it like that but yes, that’s it exactly. Realizing that taking care of yourself is one of the best things you can do—knowing yourself and that you deserve to want, that it’s normal, even.

Austin hums softly, moving to slip off the car. You swing your legs around and when he offers you his hand, you take it to slide off as well.

How easy it would be to lean up and kiss him, how he’d probably taste like hints of chocolate and strawberry. You wait for him to let you go, for his hand to stop holding yours. But he doesn’t.

You lick your own lips, your eyes looking to his lower one, how it pouts out gently when he looks at you—and you decide to stop waiting for things you want. If you’re going to pay for his company, you might as well enjoy it.

You press your lips into his own, capturing something sweet, lips moving together like you both were always made to kiss. Austin’s one hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your hair back around your ear before eventually pulling back. You’re breathing a little shakily, your noses brushing, Austin taking his time to trace your cheekbone with his lips before he opens up the car door for you.

“You’re not charging me extra for the gentleman treatment, are you?” Or for the kisses I keep stealing?

Austin smiles, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he waits for you to put your seatbelt on. “Not yet.” And closes the door with a wink.

You think about canceling six times between when you wake up on the day of the wedding to the moment you slide your dress over your head. You’ve told yourself that this was and continues to be a terrible idea and if you hadn’t paid him half up front through a cash app, you’d have the nerve to tell him never mind. Kisses and all, you really feel like you’re starting to lose your damn mind.

Though you know even if you told Austin to forget the whole thing, you still have to go to this wedding. (You could probably skip it no big deal, but the last thing you want is Todd to assume you’re bothered either). Canceling now would definitely mean going alone and you can’t stomach it, not when you feel like all of your insides are already in knots.

You smooth your hands down the front of your dress as you hear the doorbell, taking the steps downstairs carefully in your gold heels. You’ve settled for a navy-blue number that shows just enough cleavage and is ruffled at your middle, hugging curves and kissing your skin beautifully. You feel confident and comfortable, which is important for a long night.

You sigh, glancing at your front door for a moment before turning the knob and opening up to see Austin. He’s standing in a suit, beautifully polished, hair perfectly coifed on his head. A navy button-down underneath a gray suit jacket, tie to match with a red spidery design that reminds you of tree branches in the winter.

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows because, “Why are you shakin’ your head?” He asks as he steps over the threshold and you close the door.

“I just naturally assumed you were going to show up in black. Black in your profile picture that finally loaded, black at the bar… I thought that was the only shade you owned.”

He runs a hand lightly over his chest. “Grays in the same shade family.” He’s joking but you’re not laughing and finally he just throws his hands up a little, “What’s the big deal?”

“Because we match.”

Austin looks down at himself and pauses, doesn’t get it, gives you a look that makes you feel a little crazy. “That a bad thing?”

“It’s—” No, it’s not exactly a terrible idea but it somehow digs under your skin because you want today to be perfect and Austin is supposed to be your boyfriend and you can’t be that couple that goes all matchy-matchy to events, right?

What are the odds that he shows up in something that is the exact same color as your damn dress?

“It’s too perfect, it’s not believable.” You say and he raises his eyebrows because that does not make one lick of sense. He takes a step towards you and you mirror one back, shaking your head.

Austin lets out a slow breath because you’re nitpicking and it annoys him, a flare of impatience decorating his handsome face. “Well I don’t exactly got another suit in my back pocket and we’re already late.”

You narrows your eyes, “Just…follow me. I’ll change.”

You’re up the stairs and in your bedroom before you realize what you’ve said, Austin slipping in behind you and looking around the room, drinking you in with permission you’ve accidently given him. You turn suddenly and slip off your heels, pressing one hand to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t move.”

He smiles a little and nods his head, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you slide into your walk-in closet to change. You sigh softly and run a hand over your forehead before you take a moment to unzip your dress and glance at your options.

“A lot of beige.”

You roll your eyes and pull out a black dress, quickly pulling it on and kicking your navy blue one to the side before stepping out of your closet. You don’t bother to zip it up until you make sure it’s the right one.

Austin has dutifully not moved from the spot on the carpet where you’ve left him and he scrunches his nose at your dress, “You goin’ to a wake?”

“What’s wrong with beige?” You glance around your bedroom; at the little accents you’ve added that have color to them. Some shades of coffee colored brown and touches of teal here and there. It’s minimalist but tasteful.

“It’s just not what I pictured.”

“You pictured my bedroom?” You ask, but the corners of your mouth pull slightly as you put your hands on your hips.

Austin tilts his head at you, eyes traveling over your body in an unashamed way. “Maybe.” He pauses for a moment to let that sink into your pores. “You don’t seem like a beige. Also, no to that dress. I can maybe get you not wantin’ to match completely but that doesn’t line up with what I got on at all.”

You nod and turn to go back into your closet, pulling the dress off and standing far too long in your underwear trying to decide on a color range. You could go gold…but that feels too flashy, gray is out of the question and so is another navy dress so…

You finger red fabric for a moment that matches the scarlet on Austin’s tie and pull it off the hanger.

“I’m not actually that fond of beige,” You admit over your shoulder as you pull the dress up—it’s a fit and flare that kind of reminds you of the sixties. Something that hugs your waist with a high-neck tanked top and flares out like a wide flame at the bottom. It hits just below your knees and your gold heels will still go nicely with it.

“But the house kinda came this way and…I never took the time to fix it.” You walk out of the closet, pulling your hair free from underneath. “Todd didn’t like bold colors anyways.”

Austin’s eyes descend on you like a cold rush of water, a wave crashing down onto your shores. He stares for what feels like a long time, his hands coming out of his pockets like he wants to touch but can’t—too far away. You smile softly as his gaze sticks, he’s captivated by the dress, and you notice he has to shake his head as you approach to be able to speak to you.

“So I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna like this.” He reaches to touch your waist, fingers pressing warmly into the fabric.

You chew on the inside of your cheek a moment, looking up at him. “Do you like it?”

He smirks gently, pulling on your elbow to turn you around. He doesn’t reply but you feel suddenly naked under his gaze as your bare back is exposed to him. He takes his time finding the zipper and slowly draws it up into place, fixing the little hook at the top. His hands rest against your shoulders and guide down, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

“Get your shoes. We’re already late.”

You let out a long sigh that somehow turns into a pout, making him smile, “We could stay here, you could give more wisecracks about my bedroom decorum.”

Austin smirks and grabs your purse from where it’s seated on the bed as you slip your heels back on. “As amazing as that sounds, that’s not what you’re payin’ me for.”

And the words sound sour, swallowing them down, nodding your head as you leave the bedroom with him.

The wedding itself isn’t actually terrible—it’s beautiful in a way that would make any woman envious. Lots of flowers and gold designs and as you watch the entire ceremony take place, you have moments where you wonder why you’re here. Was it really that important for you to show up? And not only that, but pay a date to be here? You keep going back and forth, like a serious game of tug-of-war.

Why did it matter if you showed up alone? Or with Jill?

Austin helps you with your coat, his hand on your lower back as you walk out of the church and towards the reception hall which is being held in this beautiful botanical garden that has rooms you can rent for things like this.

People begin to pile into the building, pausing at the coat check before heading into the reception all, and it’s right there that you suddenly feel like bolting. Truth is? Todd was your boyfriend for years before your breakup (a breakup that might have never happened if you hadn’t realized he was cheating, because clearly he hadn’t taken the initiative until it was too late). And it’s probably so stupid that you remained friends with him, that you were invited to this wedding, that you for some reason care about what he thinks—even now.

But you do.

You should have just moved on and thrown the wedding invitation in the trash but…feelings don’t always come in black and white. You constantly live in a shade of gray.

And you’re worried someone is going to see right through you tonight.

Austin squeezes your hand, getting your attention as you remain grounded by the coat check. He’s patient, waiting until your gaze meets his own. “You’re shakin’.” His other hand covers the one he’s already holding.

You nod your head and offer a smile you don’t feel. “I thought this would be easy. Having you here as a distraction, smiling at all the right times and drinking too much wine in a nice dress,” You shrug your one shoulder, “It doesn’t change how I feel.”

Despite the small amount of privacy the coat check wall provides, you can feel eyes on you two from different parts of the room; people slipping past to get a glass of champagne from the cash bar, fluttering in-between hors d'oeuvres tables and congratulating the couple. Guests who know who you are, who are whispering about you. You can hear Todd a few feet away; big laughs and too loud discussions that tell you he’s a little drunk but genuinely happy.

Or maybe this is all in your head.

“Look, I think you were gonna feel this way no matter if you came alone or with someone.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But you can still do all the other things you mentioned,” Austin leans in, brushes his lips over your cheekbone as he talks, “Drink too much wine in a beautiful dress and smilin’ definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He pulls back and you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean up and kiss him again. To feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, back outside, to his car, away from this place where you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.

Austin grasps your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, waiting until your eyes meets his own again. He leans forward to brush your lips together, gently, more to distract you than anything else because it’s not a kiss.

“Women hire me because they want to feel wanted and if that’s what you need to hear, then fine, I do want you, Y/N.” You let out a breath that sounds too shaky for your own good, your knees slightly buckling. All the other gazes you once felt on you fade away, until it’s only you and Austin in an empty botanical garden.

“But hearin’ that doesn’t matter until you want things for yourself. You want someone to believe in you? You want to feel confident? Wanted?” His hand falls to your waist, “Good enough?”

You swallow thickly, his words reaching something that’s still raw inside of you, that still hurts to think about. You want to pull away, nearly do, but instead surrender to his weight against you. It’s not his fault that he does a better job of reading you than you do looking in a mirror.

“Then it has to come from you first.”

You shake your head as he pulls away, his hand very simply returning to yours as you both move towards the cash bar. “I know you think you know me from a few meetings and a detailed email request. But you don’t.” Your words at least sound stronger than you feel.

Austin looks at you over his shoulder and smiles but says nothing in return.

Maybe the problem is, he does know you, even from the simplest interactions. Maybe you’re just not used to being seen. Todd never saw you, even when you gave him so many chances to try. You suppose at that point you need to want to try.

You’re seated at a table that has mostly co-workers and friends and you attempt not to cringe when someone asks you how you know the bride and groom. Austin swoops in and responds that they’re friends, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair. You’re grateful because the words we dated are sitting in your throat like a lump, difficult to swallow over.

The night spins forward, you’re able to avoid the bride and groom for the duration of it, just enjoying food and a little bit too much wine and hanging out with Austin. There are long conversations where you get to know one another, fill one another in about things that are real, beyond the layers of this fake-date situation.

It’s nice, seeing him in that light, getting to know him as if you’d bumped into him at a bar and enjoyed his company.

You almost wish that was the case, instead.

His arm squeezes around your waist as you both dance on the dance floor, his jacket on the back of his chair, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. You’re definitely a little tipsy, the room is rose-colored, but all in all? It feels like a crisis has been avoided, you’re actually having a good time.

“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Austin asks, brushing his lips over your forehead, “Maybe some cookies from the dessert table?”

You grin, “You know me so well.” And it’s not a line, somehow, you’ve been craving cookies for the past half hour.

Austin smiles, nods, squeezes your waist and leaves you to do just that. You somehow ache with missing the heat of his body once he’s gone—and that’s how you know you’re slightly in over your head. You have to keep reminding yourself that none of this is real—the way Austin talks to you or looks at you, the way his hands travel over your body, the slight brush of his lips against your own.

It's all a lie.

A lie that you paid for.

Running a hand over your forehead, you turn and nearly bump into someone, blinking as you look up and—

“Todd.”

Your ex smiles, “Hey—I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Neither was I, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” Chewing on your lower lip, you’re struck with being unsure of what to say, scanning the crowd for Austin before clearing your throat, “Uhm, everything has been beautiful.”

Todd smiles, nodding, taking a look around for his bride. “Thank you. Are you uh, here with Jill?”

You open and close your mouth like a goldfish until you feel that familiar arm slide around you. “No this is Austin,” You take the glass of wine and have a hearty sip and it instantly makes your head spin.

Todd clears his throat and even though he’s smiling, it’s clear he’s giving Austin a once-over. He did not expect you to be here with someone. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend that wasn’t Jill.” He kinda laughs, like maybe it’s a joke that you don’t have many other close friends other than her.

But Austin is quick to smile, “Actually, I’m her boyfriend.”

And there it is, the look on Todd’s face that you were after this whole time. It’s quick, gone almost as soon as it appears, but lingers in his eyes. Regret, maybe even jealousy. Even though his wife appears by his side and introductions are exchanged.

Luckily the conversation doesn’t last very long, the bride and groom are swept towards other people, more dancing. Which is good because you’re pretty sure you noticed that the bride couldn’t keep her eyes off of Austin.

What a couple her and Todd make.

Downing the rest of the wine, you set it on the table, letting out a slow breath. Austin keeps his hands firm on your hips and you can’t quite meet his eyes. You’re not quite sure how…this wasn’t what you expected, nor wanted.

Just feels like a big mistake.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks quietly, seeming to read your mind.

You nod and he keeps his arm around you until you make it outside and reach his car.

That last glass of wine did you zero favors and by the time you make it to your front door, you’re dropping your keys instead of sliding them into the lock. Austin smiles a little, picking them up and unlocking everything, pushing the door open. You’ve got a firm hand on his shirt because you’re swaying slightly, almost a little afraid of what might happen if you let go.

What if all of this is one weird dream?

“Where are we going?” You ask as he comes inside, closing the door behind him.

“Water n’bed.” Austin replies as he guides you into the living room.

You scrunch your nose and look to the ceiling, definitely knocking yourself off balance as the room spins. Austin lets out a short grunt as he catches you, steadying you against his chest.

“In that order? That’s so boring.”

He chuckles slightly, guiding you both until he has you in front of the couch, encouraging you to sit. “You got somethin’ else you’d rather do?”

You can’t help but grin at the question, poking at his chest. “I think you know what I’d rather like to do.” It’s like hot lava pouring from your lips, you can’t seem to stop it even though you know you’ll have burns later.

Austin hums under his breath but doesn’t respond, concentrates instead on keeping you on the couch once you’re seated.

“Stay there,” He says when you try to get up, holding onto your shoulders and pressing you gently down. “You good or you gonna slip off?” There’s an amused smile pulling handsomely at his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you, slipping his thumb and forefinger along your chin.

“Good, I’m so good.” You nod, determined to give him responses that make sense. You just wish the room would stop spinning.

Only when he feels like you mean it does he pull away from you. You closes your eyes as your fingers grip the cushion, trying to hold yourself in place. None of this really helps and instead you just end up feeling nauseas, forcing your eyes to open so you can see Austin.

He’s taken his jacket off, tie gone and shirt unbuttoned a bit, and seeing his chest and forearms makes heat unwantedly pool between your legs and you lick your lips, trying to focus on what he has in his hands.

“He…he honestly didn’t think I’d be there with anyone.”

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows and he pauses, “What?”

You swallow, not sure if your trail of thought makes sense. “Todd. Jerk.” You give as an explanation.

Something passes over Austin’s face but it’s gone as soon as it appears and he crouches in front of you, his one hand slipping over your knee a moment, “Do you actually care what he thinks?”

You hold his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. He hums softly, squeezing, his thumb between your thighs and it’s really too distracting.

“Then fuck him; neither of those two seemed like they should be giving relationship advice.”

You giggle something ridiculous and cover your face with your hand a moment, glad you were able to make sense of all that even though you probably didn’t need to bring it up.

“You got anythin’ like a long t-shirt?” He changes the subject as he makes a motion to go upstairs. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get pants on you.”

You huff out a sound and rub a hand over your face, most likely smearing makeup in the worst way. “That’s alright, I like bein’ pantless.” You reach over and is happy you don’t tumble, using one hand to hold onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Upstairs, first drawer on the right.”

He’s back and forth quickly; makes you wonder how long you’ve actually been sitting there.

Him undressing you is a blur; you note that he does his best to dip his gaze when he can to give you a little privacy. Just enough that you can figure out that your head doesn’t go into one of the arm holes and assists when you starts whining that you can’t get it right. You throw your wedding dress aside and kicks off your heels, letting out a soft huff when Austin disappears into the kitchen.

He comes back with a warm washcloth that smells like lilac soap and he waits until your gaze focuses on him before he asks whether you can do this yourself.

You nod a little absently, taking the washcloth from him and wiping your makeup off before handing it back to him. You pull as many bobbypins as you can find from your hair and toss them onto the coffee table, pulling your strands back up into a bun before collapsing face first into the couch.

You barely feel the couch dip as you smush your face into a pillow, blankets being draped over your shoulders.

When you wake up, you don’t automatically remember where you are.

You lift your head and groan softly, pinching your eyes with your thumb and forefinger trying to get the pounding to stop. There’s a soft blue light casting shadows on the walls of the living room and oh, that’s right, you’re home. Austin brought you home last night.

You swallow and nearly sit up too fast, leaning up on your elbows because oh, oh fuck, now you remember. A wave of nausea crashes down on you for moving and you flutter your eyes closed briefly and hope that helps. When you feels confident enough to fix your gaze on something other than the inside of your eyelids, you turn to look at Austin who’s sitting up in one of the lounge chairs nearby against a few pillows, watching TV.

He didn’t leave. He stayed with you the entire night.

The sound from the TV isn’t loud enough to be heard but you can tell he does this often, eyes on the screen, just absorbing the images that flicker to life. His head dips to look over at you when you move; he looks tired. You really hope he didn’t sit up to just…keep an eye on you, making sure you slept alright.

You clear your throat, the sound scratchy and dry regardless of your trying, “Am I dead?”

Austin smirks a little and stands to come and sit by your legs, handing you a glass of water that’s on the coffee table. “Here. You passed out before I could get you to drink any.”

You sigh softly and close your eyes, moving to sit up further and is glad to see the room isn’t spinning anymore. “Lovely.” You drink deeply after a few tentative sips to make sure you can keep it down.

“You stayed.”

“I did.” Austin’s quiet for a few moments, playing with the corners of one of the blankets. Clearly he’s not going to elaborate. “You got a headache?”

You hum an affirmative response but it’s nothing water and Advil can’t cure. You lean your head back against the headboard, closing your eyes again for a few moments to avoid the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. You give yourself some time to sip your water before you open them again, setting the glass down on the table. There’s cookies there too, from last night. Austin kept them.

You sense embarrassment licking at your nerve endings, feeling a little ridiculous for your behavior. You should really know better than to let yourself go like that, especially since it doesn’t take too many glasses of wine in a row for it to happen.

“Sober?” He asks and there’s a tilt to his voice that you don’t like, far too amused.

You groan and turn your head to look at him, trying to muster up a glare that doesn’t stick. “Unfortunately.” You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to not even think about what you might look like.

You’re just glad you didn’t vomit.

A deep breath settles in and out of your lungs before you turn your head to look at Austin, the light of the TV casting beautiful shadows on his face. Your eyes skitter over the scruff beginning on his jawline and your fingers itch to follow. You clear your throat, getting his attention, and he turns his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry for getting plastered.” You smile a little because he does; that same amusement back on his face, though it doesn’t bother you this time around. “I’m shocked that you do weddings.”

You allow yourself to laugh a little, shaking your head like it’ll somehow clear the fuzzy memories of him bringing you back to your home, tripping over yourself. You regret the way you’ve carried yourself, but a tiny part of you is glad you decided to let yourself go, to enjoy the open bar and let your emotions run a little rampant for once.

You’re so used to keeping everything inside, to holding it all in. For once you didn’t.

Austin’s chewing on words he’s not saying, you can see the hesitance in his expression, wanting to say something but unsure if he should. You wait, don’t press, and eventually,

“Admittedly, I haven’t done a wedding in a while.” He shakes his head, “Because they tend to be messy in a way that I never expect.”

You wince, rubbing the back of your neck because…clearly you hadn’t planned on making a fool out of yourself but Austin quickly continues to explain,

“I don’t mean you.” He turns a bit to lean against the couch, his shoulder pressed along the cushions. Austin licks his lips, his eyes tracing your jawline and lips, slipping down your neck and collarbone enough to make you shiver.

“In your request, you said somethin’ like, ‘I don’t want my ex to feel like he’s taken something from me. Something that’s mine and will always be mine’.”

You search his eyes for a moment and when his finally meet yours, something warm and aching starts in your chest, blooming outward like a flower only meant to grow at night. You swallow thickly, “You remember that?” Because you kinda…bared you soul in that request for a date service. You hadn’t meant to come across so desperate but…you were also just being honest.

“I have a very good memory,” He attempts to wave this off, and you want to tell him not to—that what he’s saying matters. Austin’s seeing you, over walls you didn’t realize you had up after all this time.

“You said kind of implied that you wanted Todd to regret cheating on you, but I think you really meant that you wanted him to see that he didn’t break you.” He licks his lips and trails his pinky finger along your jawline as he curls loose hair behind your ear. “I’ve met a lot of women in similar situations, and not all of them have handled it like you.”

A laugh slips out of your throat, something you can’t stop. You’re trying to break the tension gathering in the room, something heavy and thick like warm cotton settling over both of you. Handled it? You haven’t exactly done that well, have you? If last night is any indication.

“What, they didn’t hire a male escort and get piss drunk?”

He smiles gently, shaking his head. “They let their exes break them because they couldn’t figure out who they were without them.”

The warmth in your chest threatens to burst and you wish for a moment that you could see yourself the way Austin does, so clearly, like everything is laid out before him, all he has to do is read.

“But not you.” It barely leaves his mouth before you close the distance between them.

The heat erupts in a single kiss, both of Austin’s hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling it loose from your haphazard bun. He kisses you like you’ve always wanted to be kissed, even though you hadn’t realized it was something that was missing until now.

He inches you forward, forcing you to move until you’re straddling his waist, blankets getting caught and tangled in-between. Anything that’s been building up suddenly releases into you both, like a wave crashing, heated breaths against skin and not being able to get close enough. Austin tugs off your long t-shirt and a shiver travels down your skin as you reach up and automatically unclasp your bra.

You sit there for a moment, almost in the wake of realizing what you’ve done, and you watch Austin’s gaze. His eyes drink you in, hands still on your waist, trailing up your sides, thumb slipping underneath one of your breasts to press against your ribcage. The touch is intimate enough to cause something sharp in your throat, thick swallowing for it to disappear. You lean forward, presses your foreheads together and you kiss again.

You’re fumbling to get blankets down, to move everything out of your way and Austin flips your positions, easing you down onto your back along the cushions. He rifles for something in his suit jacket that’s nearby while you slip your hips up to slide your underwear down and off and away. He’s got too many layers on and you itch to immediately remove his shirt when he’s overtop of you again.

Toned skin greets you and you can’t help but touch, sink your fingers in, drag your nails. The noises that leave Austin’s throat are enough to single handedly build the heat beginning in your lower belly, something you don’t think you ever want to stop hearing. He moves only long enough to take his pants off, tossing them to the side, and he holds your gaze—

He waits.

You swallow and know this is such a bad idea, that nothing good can come from this. But wasn’t it Austin who urged you to figure out what you want? You want to feel confident? Wanted? Good enough?

Then it has to come from you first.

There’s a half-nod in Austin’s direction before he’s slipping a hand down between you, to put a condom on but also—

You moan, rolling your hips as you feel his fingers slide against you, inside of you. He teases, rolls flesh between his thumb and forefinger, lips falling to your neck to leave kisses that eventually find your mouth again.

He takes his time even though you wish he wouldn’t, building you up and letting you down easy before pressing inside. You gasp and your back arches, hips rolling forward, Austin leaning down to capture your mouth again, to absorb your sounds. You wrap your legs around him, which makes moving a little difficult, but you don’t want him to move too far away, want to constantly feel him—keep you both connected.

Austin nips at your lower lip with his own, not taking you long to build up what you’ve started. Pleasure circles in your veins, pulling you towards an end that you doesn’t want to reach yet. He doesn’t stop, keeps moving his hips forward at a quickening pace and you dig your nails into his back.

You barely have time to warn him before you’re cumming, though because your bodies are molded together, you think he already knows—probably knew before you did. He grunts as he loses himself in you, his face falling to your neck, gentle panting and lazy kissing.

You tilt your head back so your throat is exposed, your hands slipping down his back and settling on his waist, his skin a little slick to the touch. He lays there for a long few moments and you take one another in, his chest pressing into your own as you both breathe.

He pulls back too soon for your liking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to stop. Austin cleans himself up, slipping onto the couch again, this time behind you, and pulls you close. You turn on your side, blankets coming up over your shoulder as you puzzle-piece both of you together, your face hiding in his neck, already falling asleep.

Austin says nothing, which is fine with you, he doesn’t need to say anything. His lips find your shoulder, a few kisses here and there, hands intertwining in your hair.

You finally figure out what you want—

and you want this. You want him.

You wake up before Austin does, pulling yourself from the couch and disappearing into the bathroom near the kitchen. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you kinda shake your head before drawing up Jill’s text messages on your phone.

Y/N: I think I messed up.

You wash your face and feel a little more human, sitting down on the closed toilet seat as she pings you back.

Jill: oh no, what happened? Jill: please tell me Austin didn’t turn out to be a serial killer

You laugh, your hand covering your mouth. Jesus. A small, hysterical part of you wonders if that’d be easier to deal with.

Y/N: the wedding went fine, he brought me back home, stayed the night Y/N: may or may not have had sex with him on my couch this morning??

Jill instantly tries to call you and you press the red button—you can’t talk to her when he’s still here.

Y/N: I can’t, he’s still here

Jill: !!!!!! Jill: girl omg— Jill: how was it? 😉

Running a hand over your face, you wonder if you should have ever said anything. Then again, there’s this small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. In general, you know that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done—both of you are consenting adults. But then there’s this whole other layer of…paying him to be your date. It’s not like you paid him for sex or anything but…

You kinda can’t help but wonder how many jobs he takes that end up like this.

Y/N: it was perfect but that’s not the point

Jill: so what is the point?

You sigh softly, tapping on your cash app and just…wondering. So many insecurities and questions and wonderings wrapping around you like a blanket, except it’s far too tight, suffocating almost. Taking in a breath, you set your phone down on the counter, looking up when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” Austin asks, “You alright?”

Reaching over to grasp the knob, you open the door with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

Austin looks ridiculously adorable slept on. His hair is slightly askew, skin looking warm, a soft, tired look in his eyes. God, you can’t believe he’s been here for so long in these wedding clothes, back in his slacks and a white undershirt.

“I uh,” He clears his throat, “M’gonna head home. Shower, change. But…”

You lick your lips, your stomach flip-flopping with eagerness.

“I was thinkin’ I could come back later; we could talk?”

God, talking sounds like such a great idea. Not to mention you could shower too, put yourself together, feel more like someone capable of having a serious conversation. So you nod with a soft smile—that sounds perfect.

And then—

You can pinpoint the exact moment that Austin glances to the sink and sees the cash app open because his expression changes, like a shadow passing over but instead of dissipating—it stays, darkening the color of his eyes. A breath catches in your throat as you straighten your shoulders, words on your lips and stuck on your tongue. Nothing comes out.

His gaze flickers up from the phone to your eyes and what you see there is like a cold bucket of ice water, anger but…deeper, it’s—

“Not what it looks like.” You finally say, breaking the tension into pieces with a hammer.

Austin hums, nodding his head and licking his lips. He’s trying very hard to speak without sounding annoyed, “What’s it like then?” He asks, the words daggered. “Cause it looks like you were about to pay me for services rendered.”

You shake your head and stand from the toilet on wobbly knees. Austin takes a step back from you, almost like a caged animal, getting ready to bolt. And then you realize, right, he’s not angry, he’s hurt.

“No—”

“Don’t lie to me,” He grounds out, the words chewed on between his teeth.

A shuddered noise leaves your lips because you can tell you’re losing it, this conversation slipping like sand between your fingers. He’s not going to be willing to listen to you if you confirm he’s right, that you had thought about it—if you admit you weren’t sure what you were doing or what sleeping together meant.

You distantly know that this isn’t going to end well, no matter what you say. Austin tore his walls down in front of you, exposed himself, and now he looks like a fool for doing it. Even if it’s on accident, you’ve hurt him, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to backpedal without looking guilty.

“I thought about it,” You admit after a moment. “I wasn’t…” The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel cheap; you know that this thing started as a transaction but also that something changed last night.

“Nah, it’s good. You were payin’ me to do a job, right?” Austin turns to walk back to the living room, gather up his things. And it’s like…you have no idea what you can possibly say, how you can stop him.

Your legs carry you forward, “Austin, don’t.” You sigh and puts a hand on your lips, suddenly feeling nauseas as he moves too quick for you to stop him.

“Business is business. You can stop feelin’ so guilty,” He straightens his shoulders before grabbing his jacket, slipping it on. Metaphorically it feels like a shield, another layer he’s building back up between them both, shutting you out.

He can’t possibly leave like this, right?

You’re practically stumbling over your own feet as he makes it to the front door, “Please don’t walk away.”

His hand pauses on the doorknob, just for a moment, like he might actually be considering your words. But then he yanks the door open and slams it shut once he’s outside.

You don’t go after him.

Time goes on.

You expect that Austin might reach out to you—to apologize, to start over, or maybe even request the unfulfilled payment that he was supposed to receive after the wedding date. But nothing, it’s radio silent…and you think that’s worse.

You want to reach out to him on your own, but you’re not even sure where to begin. How to apologize for thoughts that are incomplete in your head. How to express emotions that are sitting at the bottom of your ribcage.

You’re just hoping for a chance to apologize and explain yourself, even though you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. Is this really it? Going back to business as usual and pretend they never met one another?

You sigh as you hear a few knocks on your door and hate how it feels like hope, quickly moving from your kitchen to tug it open and see Jill on the other side. You give her a small smile, letting her inside,

“I got your twenty texts, you alright?”

You run a hand over your forehead and shake your head, moving towards the kitchen for Jill to follow. You offer her a cup of coffee, sitting back at the counter with your own. Wrapping your hands around the ceramic, you glance up at your friend,

“I screwed up.”

Jill sighs softly, grabbing a cup for the coffee because clearly, she’s going to need it. “Tell me what happened; your texts were all hysteria and no detail.”

You map out the whole thing from start to finish, the chapel, the reception, the night of, the morning after—your voice drops on intimate details, like somehow you have to keep them exactly that. Intimate.

“Damn, Y/N.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I know…it was an accident.” You swallow. “The money part, anyways.”

She adds a few spoonfuls of sugar to her mug, stirring. “Does tall, blonde and brooding know that?”

You let your hand fall from your face, eyes focusing out the window above the sink at the city sounds and sights. Suddenly a dark blue gaze rekindles in your memory, the hurt there, wounded and refusing to let you past his boundaries again.

“I tried to tell him; he wouldn’t listen.”

Jill hums under her breath a moment and shuffles, “Maybe give him some time? Try him tomorrow.”

Easier said than done, “I don’t even know where he lives. He’s not going to pick up the phone if I try to call him; texts are useless.”

Your friend’s quiet for a few moments, considering—and then a sound leaves her lips and you picture a lightbulb going off on her facial expression. “But you know where he works.”

You stand outside the café that Austin works at for what feels like a long time, staring at the sign and pacing back and forth to your car parked down the street. You really hope no one is watching you because you probably looks crazy; you feel crazy. You can’t just approach this man where he works, can you? You don’t even know if he’s working today.

But it’s…worth a try, right? Like one last shot before you just drop it.

You’re not sure that if the situations were reversed, he’d show up at your front door, so. Or maybe you’re just hoping he would.

So after spending ten minutes contemplating what to do, you finally force yourself to walk up the café door and make your way inside. It’s a hole in the wall but filled to the brim with people at tiny circular tables, waiting in line to place their order with a beautiful blonde cashier and satisfied customers adding sugar and creamer to their coffees at a station to your left.

The heady scent of fresh coffee and baked goods slam into you like a truck, leaving you almost breathless. This place blends in when it should stick out—she wonders if you didn’t know Austin if you’d come in to order an iced coffee just walking by on the street.

Your eyes graze behind the counter until you finally spot him further down, filling baked goods trays in a window that were once empty. A ton of questions hit you at once; did he make those baked goods that are at his fingertips? How does he separate the time between the café and the stand-in job? What are you going to say to him?

Before you can fully approach him, Austin glances up—and spots you.

He’s not happy to see you but he doesn’t look as pissed off as the last time you saw him, so, you consider that progress. You swallow as you walk towards the counter and your hand settles on the top of the glass, the lights above the pastries warming your palm.

“Hi.” That’s it? That’s all you can say? This conversation is going to be just as painful as the last one.

Austin doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth because another worker, a blonde girl, rushes to the counter because she must be on register, “Hi,” She smiles, bright, “We have orange scones on sale today. What can I get you?”

You smile gently at her, glancing at Austin and wondering if he’s going to step in or just…continue not saying anything to you. You suppose you don’t blame him.

“I’ll uhm, take a hazelnut latte and one of those scones,” You nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse, “Thank you.”

“I got the rest of this, Chloe,” Austin steps in as you stick your card into the reader. “Thanks.” He watches her go before turning his attention back to you, customers passing by and receiving orders that he’s already packed at the end of the counter. He hands over your receipt.

“You stalkin’ me now?” He asks but he’s not amused, drumming his fingers on top of the counter.

You let out a slow breath and he moves to fill your order, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, “You won’t text me back.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t wanna talk to you,” He says pointedly before motioning towards your right, “You skipped the line.”

“I didn’t want to order anything, I just wanted to talk.”

He smirks but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he grabs an orange scone, wrapping it in a napkin. “Look at you, really learned how to be honest about what you want.”

“You taught me how.” You insist, trying to catch his gaze. When you finally do, you hold it there, trying to will him to listen to you—because you’re not grasping at straws, meeting him, spending time with him…being with him really taught you about parts of yourself that were missing.

Or maybe not missing, exactly, but lying dormant.

“I just want five minutes of your time, please, then I’ll leave you won’t hear from me again.”

Austin lets out a long patient sigh with a shake of his head, something between aggravation mixed with a touch of being impressed—you’re persistent, at least. He’s going to hear you out and suddenly all the words mix in a blender and sink to the bottom of your ribs; you’re almost unsure of how to put this but all you can do is try.

“You’ve been right since we first met; I didn’t know how to want things for myself even though I expected so much out of other people.”

You chew on your lower lip a moment, eyes tracing over the handsome lines of his face—now was not the time to get distracted.

“This whole thing caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared to want you…and not just as my stand-in date, but you.”

He doesn’t hold your gaze and maybe that’s okay, he busies himself with getting other people orders, keeping the line moving but you can tell he’s still listening to you. He’s still intent on hearing you through…even though you’re almost certain it’s not going to make a difference.

You can tell by his expression, by those walls remaining firm; they’re not budging for you.

Not again.

“The money thing was a mistake. You were right, I did open up my app and think about it because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what this thing was or if I was…imaging how I felt. So I fucked up but…so did you for not sticking around and talking to me.”

Austin’s shoulders straighten; he doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. A rod appears up his spine, his posture almost towering despite the glass case between them.

“I just…that’s it,” You swallow, your thumb running over the scone in your one hand and picking up your finished latte with another. “That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for disrupting your work.”

You turn quickly, can’t take the look in his eyes anymore, the bustle of other people around you. You’ve said what you needed to—you should feel more complete than before, right? Because at least he knows your side of things.

It’s his turn.

You push the door open, the welcome bell dinging after you as you leave.

He doesn’t come after you.

You try to shake your head as Jill orders another shot, but can’t quite stop her because the woman has a mind of her own when it comes to having a good time.

“No,” You crinkle your nose.

Jill laughs, “Oh come on—one more. You’re not calling it early already, are you? We can get fries after this.”

You sigh, a bit dramatically, but how can you turn down fries? “Fine.” You shake your head, running a hand over your face as you sit at the counter of your frequent bar, “I’ll be back though.”

You slide off the barstool, motioning she should save your seat as you put your purse on it. She grins, cups your cheeks with her hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You shoo her off, moving through the crowd to the restroom. Once you’ve used the bathroom and spend a little time with a cold and wet paper towel to the back of your neck, you come back out and nearly run someone over—

And blink because—

“Austin.”

It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him but fuck, he looks just as amazing as he did when you tried to explain yourself in the café. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, boots and a white button down, he’s got a leather jacket on as well, just a bit more scruff to his face.

“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna be here.” But it’s…contemplative, thoughtful, like he might have actually planned on trying to find you in the bar where you met.

You feel like the world might be spinning off its axis. “Here I am.”

He smiles a little, glancing over his shoulder and fuck, you wonder if he’s here with someone and—you’re pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t cause some adverse reaction. No punch in your gut that you completely screwed everything up. Time, it seems, does heal some wounds.

Maybe not heal, scar at the very least.

“I saw you post somethin’ on your instastory and I was…well I was hopin’…” He kinda trails off and two thoughts slam into your body like a freight train. One, he sounds…nervous? Which you feel like is very unlike him, given what you’ve been through together. And second? It actually sounds like he knew you were here and he meant to find you on purpose.

“Can we talk?” He asks, “Maybe outside?”

“Yes,” And god, you hope you don’t say that too fast. “Fresh air sounds good.”

As you begin to walk outside with him, you text Jill letting her know where you’re going (and with who). She sends you exactly three text messages in response that you don’t dare look at.

You take in a deep breath in once you get outside, the cool air settling over you like a bucket of cold water. You almost wish you grabbed your jacket from the bar but…dragging Austin over there towards Jill would have been such a bad idea.

It’s fine—the air is refreshing, a bit sobering and this conversation probably won’t last long either way. Taking in a breath, you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“So…”

Austin clears his throat, “You uh—?” He motions to his jacket and you’re not quite strong enough to deny his offer, so you gently nod your head. Austin slips off his leather jacket and hands it to you and you put it on.

A soft noise of approval leaves your lips as your arms go through the sleeves, a little bit long, feeling perfect though when you zip it up. The lingering scent of his cologne and skin is enough to almost knock you on your knees.

“Thank you.” You whisper, curling your hair around your ear.

You know that Austin is gathering his thoughts, but waiting almost somehow feels worse. You’re just…not sure what to do with yourself other than stare at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He finally says, “At your place?” It’s like the tension start to unwind from your shoulder at that, you almost have to physically swallow over your words so you can let him speak. “Just…felt like what we did, it was real—and—”

“It was real,” You assure him, can’t allow him to think otherwise, “I know this is going to sound cliché but…opening that cash app had everything to do with me, not you. I wasn’t second-guessing what happened.”

Austin gently waves you off, “It’s not your fault, I—I’m so used to things bein’ a business transaction that I just jumped to conclusions.”

You give him a small smile and it feels good? to be on the same page after all this time but…it’s not like, “It’s okay,” You curl your hair around your ear, “I’m not sure where something like this could go. I wouldn’t ask you to quit a job that’s clearly lucrative.”

Austin nods softly, “Well you don’t have to, because I already have.”

You’re not sure why what he says doesn’t register right away, you’re kinda just staring at him, wrapped up in his leather jacket, people passing you both on the sidewalk as you stand outside this bar.

Then you blink, “What?”

He smirks, running a hand through his hair as he nods, “Yeah, I uh—just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

You feel like your brain might be short circuiting, “But about acting? What about L.A.?”

A soft laugh rumbles in his throat, “I can still do L.A. Bein’ an actor isn’t goin’ anywhere.”

And you know that he still has a café job, that he can find other jobs to satisfy what he wants in terms of collecting money but…somehow you’re worried he’s traded one thing in for another. Even though Austin doesn’t look like he has any regrets as he takes a step towards you. His hands gently rest on your arms, sliding down, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.

When you don’t—

“You're not the only one goin' after what they want.”

You can’t stop a small laugh from slipping from your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press yourself up on your toes and kiss him. His arms wrap around you automatically, drawing you closer, his one hand cupping the back of your neck.

It feels like you’re kissing for a long time, or maybe it’s just felt too long since you’ve kissed. Either way, pulling away makes you feel a bit breathless and Austin smiles, pressing your foreheads together for a moment.

It feels like starting over, or maybe even better, a new chapter.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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