#Anyway this is just a thought I had today

[rafeovermorals]

YOUR OLD NEIGHBOR JOEL who becomes your personal handyman.. always fixing things around the house for you. something broken? you bring it to him and he’ll take care of it.

he teased you at first. “no boyfriend to do this?” he questioned in his usual nonchalant, grumpy tone.. but when you replied that you were single, you saw his lips tug into a smirk.

after a while you didn’t have to ask anymore. joel came over on his own accord just to find things to repair, it made him feel useful that way.

he warmed up to you over time. “it’s no problem, darlin’. not like i got much else to do these days.” you always offered him a cup of coffee as a thank you, which he accepted.

you would help him too. he was skilled with his hands, but electronics were a different story. when he finally upgraded from his flip phone, he didn’t have a clue in the world on what to do with it. “not my generation.” he grumbled, clearly struggling to figure it out.

he was too embarrassed to ask. “let me do it for you, old man.” you teased with a giggle, snatching the device from him. you got everything ready to go— going the extra mile to downloaded tinder and offering to set up a profile for him.. even though he swore he’d never use it.

you added your number to joel’s contacts. it was the only number, actually. he texted like a dad, responding to your texts with a flat “sure.” or “no.” until you taught him what emojis were, then he sometimes used the thumbs up or a heart.

he gave in one day, deciding to try out the dating apps. his profile was simple— classic joel. nothing really special about it.. except that all of the pictures he had were taken by you.

he scrolled through, pressing ‘x’ on each women that was prompted to him. he was ready to delete it all together.. but a familiar face popped up. you.

your profile was unlike anything he’d seen from the others. you stood out from the rest, of course you did. he swiped back and forth between your pictures.. his cock stirring in his pants at the sight of one with you in a bikini. you were alluring, a seductive smile that was bound to attract endless messages.

he felt dirty for staring too long. it was wrong, yet he couldn’t get himself to look away. why were you on there, anyway? a pretty girl like you had no business searching for love on this app full of perverted, lonely men like himself. even if so.. why would it show your account to him when he’s three times your age? he knew for a fact that the user had choice in what range they were interested in— you told him that.

the thought stuck with him. those flirty remarks, sneaking glances, and lingering touches clicked in his mind. before he could regret it, he pressed the ‘✓’ beside your name with a hold of his breath.

YOU HAVE A MATCH!

quick drabble because this picture posted today sent me into an old handyman!joel spiral. i’ve seen a few neighbor/fixer upper fics, but i want to link inspo to this one as it is one of my favorite reads on here!

[stars-inthe-sky]

if there's solid ground below

It's been five years, but I wrote a whole fic this week thanks in no small part to the singular @iphyslitterator!

[Cross-posted to AO3]

“H—hey, Tommy?”

Tommy startles and bangs his head on the hood of his truck, recovering fast enough that none of the oil he was nearly done changing spilled but not so fast that it would have escaped Evan’s notice. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just surprised,” he says, grabbing for a spare rag to wipe his hands on. “Hi.”

“Got a sec?” Evan rocks onto the balls of his feet and back again, hands shoved deep in the pockets of a hoodie that, in southern California in May, it should really be too warm for. But he runs cold, and the layers always have the added bonus of making Tommy want to rip them off in some kind of Pavlovian response.

Had. Last summer, they’d had that effect. This summer was shaping up differently.

Evan tilts his head, a little quizzical, and Tommy realizes he’s been frozen in place for a few beats too long, dazedly dragging the rag between his fingers.

“Sorry, yeah, go ahead.” He glances down at the car, which hasn’t moved, then back at Evan, who’s still rocking but who looks, Tommy’s now realizing, noticeably lighter than he has in a while—certainly since the funeral, but maybe even more so than that night in the bar all those weeks ago. His smile is far too small, but it’s there. “Although if you need another helicopter, I’m gonna have to start charging you at some point.”

“That’s okay, I heard your fees are competitive,” he chirps, and if his grin isn’t yet lethal, it’s shifted to shit-eating. Which, for Tommy, is lethal anyway, and Evan knows it. “But no, I just…just wanted to talk this time. For real, for once.”

Oh. “Okay…?”

“You can keep doing whatever you were doing; I know you like to have something to do with your hands.”

“Uh, thanks.” He stuffs the rag in the back pocket of his jeans and fishes the oil canister out of his car’s innards. This might be easier without eye contact. “What’s up?”

“I’m taking a sabbatical from the LAFD,” Evan says. Tommy freezes again, more of a twitch than a full stop, and makes himself continue the actual task at hand. “Three months. Mostly thanks to an insane amount of unused PTO, because I realized I kinda haven’t taken a vacation that wasn’t just medical leave in like…ever. And I need a break, you know, after everything? Like, I spent a bunch of my twenties driving around, odd jobs and stuff, and the world is—is so much bigger than the firehouse, or this city, and…yeah.  I think I need that space for a bit. Just got it approved today. And then I came here.”

He pauses for breath, and Tommy stares unseeing at some perfectly intact wiring he could reconnect by touch alone if asked. “That’s great they’re letting you do that, Evan. I’m sure it’ll be good for you. How’d the others take it?”

There’s a little sigh. “I haven’t told them yet. Battalion chief said I’d always have a job to come back to, but they couldn’t hold my spot indefinitely. Depends on the new captain and how they want to staff up. Makes sense, obviously, so.” His sniffle is nearly inaudible, but Tommy’s never been able to tune out Evan’s frequency.

He gives up on the car, closing the hood with a quiet click and resuming with the rag, even though his hands aren’t especially dirty. “Never thought you’d voluntarily leave the 118.”

“I know, right?” Evan’s mouth twitches, and it’s not quite a smile now, but there’s something genuine growing back. “I mean, I guess I might not be, but. Things change, and it’s…time, maybe. I’m doing this, in any case. I—I—I just need to clear my head for a while. Go visit Minnesota, never been there, but then…I don’t know, maybe touch the Atlantic Ocean again. Camp out in some national parks. Go see the sky in Montana—it’s so big, Tommy, I’ve never seen anything like it, not since those years, and the last couple of months…it’s like the smog is just in everything right now, you know?”

Tommy nods. He can relate, despite how often he gets to soar above the chokehold of Los Angeles; smoke is smoke, and heat still rises. “I get it. So…this is goodbye, then?” He swallows, bites his lip, stares down at his fingers and the rag still entwined in them.

“No!” Evan leans forward for a breath, arm lifting, but he seems to stop himself, like he’s remembering they don’t know where they stand with each other, if he’s allowed to grab Tommy’s shoulder. “No, no, I’m coming back. LA is still home, my—my stuff’s going into a storage unit next week, my sister and my niece are here, and the new baby—the job—no, yeah, I’m coming back.”

“That’s good,” Tommy muses. “So…”

“So, I wanted to ask—I—I—I’m asking if you’d maybe be up for thinking about coming with me.”

Tommy freezes so suddenly, and so thoroughly, that the rag drops to the ground. “You—you’re going on a three-month road trip to get away from it all, and you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Evan says softly, surely, ducking his head in that bashful way he pretends not to know is so damn effective. “I need a break from everything, and everyone—but you, you’re not everyone. I meant what I said about being together, before. I still mean it.” Tommy feels both arms drop to his sides, heavy and limp like emptied hoses, and the air jerks out of his lungs as his throat closes tight.

Evan plows ahead. “I—if—if you don’t want to, or you can’t swing it with work, or whatever—I get it, that’s why I’m asking and not—not telling you what to do. I don’t—even if you don’t come, I’d wait. And, and text or call, maybe? If you wanted to? Even if it’s just as friends, my life is always better when you’re in it. Kinda hoping that goes both ways here.”

Tommy croaks, “And when you get tired of me before we hit Reno?”

“I won’t,” he says, no hesitation. Tommy’s slack face must do something, because he repeats, “Tommy, I won’t. I won’t. I just want time with you, more time, all the time. I want to try again, so, so bad. And if we fight, we can talk, and not just think the worst, and keep going, be—because I want to eat crappy gas station food with you and not think about the inside of a gym for weeks. I want to drive out somewhere where it feels like we’re the only people on the planet, and fuck in the back of your truck, and then figure out a map that’s older than either of us because there’s no cell service. Maybe rent a chopper in Montana so we can see that sky up close—there’s, there’s so many stars, and you’re the only person I’d want to see them with like that. I want to be locked in a moving vehicle with you all day, except for bathroom stops, and see your face when you realize it’s been 16 hours and we still have more to talk about, and we’ll just keep going, because I’m never gonna get tired of you.”

He pauses and swallows thickly, and Tommy can’t look away. For all that Evan Buckley wears his heart on his sleeve so easily for anyone to see, actually opening it up and offering to hand it over to someone else—that’s still work. “So—that’s what I came to say. That’s what I want. J—just think about it. No rush, I’m not—I’ll wait. If it’s what you want. You…you get to want things, too. So. Yeah.”

Evan nods to himself, rubs the back of his neck, and turns to walk back to his car, parked on the street. Tommy has to move, has to say something, but the soles of his boots are melting, fused to the cement of the driveway, his throat is still closed, and Evan—Evan is walking away.

Tommy wants things, too.

He forces a breath, in and out, on a four-count, licks his lips, and asks, “When do we leave?”

Evan radiates a warmth that scatters out, tangible and visible like a sunrise before he even turns around, beaming. “I was thinking a few weeks after the baby comes, but—but—yeah?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I could chase some stars over the Rockies. With you.” Tommy’s insides unknot, and the life rushes back into his limbs. “And the rest, too. I noticed it’s my truck in this scenario?”

Suddenly Evan is in front of him, closer than they’d managed even that morning after, pressed gently against him from chest to knees, arms winding around his waist. “Much more cargo space. Very practical. And I kinda thought you might be in the same boat, you know, with the unused vacation. Maybe enough seniority to hang onto your spot.”

“Probably, yeah, they generally…” He doesn’t even know how that sentence might have ended, has rarely thought about anything more than a long weekend away, but then Evan’s kissing him, deep and slow and sweet like they might already be the only people on the planet. His warmth flashes over through Tommy, nerve by nerve, until he’s lit up and burning, flammable in places he’d spent months trying to forget this man could expose.

When Evan pulls back, it’s with Tommy’s face between his hands, his relief and hope palpable. Like life might go on, like the world might really be bigger, could even be better, sometimes, than it had been.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, so close and so quiet that Tommy can feel each syllable rumble against his skin, tires steady on a gravel road away from this scene and toward the next.

[georgeclarkeys]

tiktok trend series - george clarkey x reader

summary: you make george's friends be mean to you for a tiktok trend - 800 words

hi friends!! this is the first installment in my new tiktok trend series about your fav uk youtubers and your fav tiktok trends!! please please please send me any ideas you might have for this, especially a trend or a person you would like to see featured!!

~

Scrolling through TikTok was beginning to find a permanent spot in your nighttime routine. It had been several years since your account blew up, so you convinced yourself that you were doing research for new video ideas every time you spent an hour or so watching before bed. One recent trend was definitely piquing your interest, and with the help of your boyfriend's friends, you were confident that you could pull it off. Creators were staging a “who’s most likely to” game with someone close to their significant other, and asking the other person to be mean to them in order to catch their partner's reaction. You had the perfect idea, and were planning on getting a great reaction out of George.

~

It was an unusual evening at Casa Clarke-Dixon-Hill. All three roommates were home, and no one was streaming or working, so you managed to round them up and convince them to film a TikTok with you. You had talked to Arthur and Chris beforehand, letting them in on the prank and giving them permission to be as mean as they could, but George was clueless. 

You placed your phone on the tripod and sat in a row, with Chris and Arthur on either side of you, and George standing behind looking curious. 

Pressing record, you smiled, “Hey friends! Today I am joined by George, Arthur, and Chris, and we’re going to be playing a game of “who’s most likely to” where all of the answers are decided by George!” 

All three of the boys let out a small cheer.

“Alright, George, who has the best voice?”

“Oh wow, starting off with a difficult one are we?” he laughed, “Obviously my singer friend Arthur.” 

Arthur pumped his fist and cheered, “Yes! I’m just glad you didn’t say (Y/N), she sounds about like nails on a chalkboard.”

You saw George make a bit of a face in the camera before saying, “(Y/N) has a lovely voice.”

Ignoring the comment from Arthur, you continued, “Okay next, who is the smartest?”

George’s eyes bounced between the three of you in deep thought before calling out, “(Y/N).”

You turned around to smile at him, while Arthur and Chris shook their heads. George was suspiciously eyeing both of them as they looked at each other. Chris leaned past you to say to Arthur, “there is absolutely no way he actually thinks she’s smarter than either of us, right? She’s a TikToker for crying out loud.”

Arthur laughed and answered, “I thought he was joking to be honest.”

Your boyfriend was not laughing, he eyed the camera warily before putting on an exaggerated confused face in an attempt to ease the tension, “is this a who’s most likely to quiz, or an everyone bully George’s beautiful girlfriend quiz?”

You laughed awkwardly, doing your best to play into the uncomfortable atmosphere that was rapidly growing. 

“Anyways, who’s the meanest?”

George does not even hesitate before answering, “Chris.”

Chris’s head turns around, eyes wide with shock, “you’re actually joking.”

“I would have said (Y/N),” Arthur mumbled, loud enough to hear.

“I would have said (Y/N) too!” Chris exclaimed, “she’s so unnecessarily rude all the time!”

You sat back with wide eyes and listened to the chaos unfold, watching George’s face grow red as his flatmates continued ripping into you.

“What the hell is going on!” he snapped, looking back and forth between his two friends, “Why are both of you being such dickheads to (Y/N)? Don’t talk about her like that.” He grabbed your hand to pull you up from your seat, “C’mon babe, delete that video. Let’s go film something else for you to post.”

Before he could grab your phone you decided it was time to give yourself up, “it’s a joke! It’s a trend!” 

He turned back to look at you, “what?”

“I put them up to it. I told them to be mean to me.”

“Well that’s a fucking relief,” he laughed and put a hand over his heart, “I thought I was going to have to move out, oh my days.” 

~

By the end of the day the video had over a million views, and a comment section filled with women thirsting over your boyfriend.

comments

user1: okay but why is george so sexy when he’s mad…

georgeclarkeey: This is something I would expect from Chris, but Arthur threw me off

user2: yes george defend your gf 😫

arthurhill69: i am so sorry queen (y/n) i love you

user3: (y/n) where did you find this man he’s perfect

user4: where’s the green flag guy

[robobarbie]

I turned 30 today!!! Happy birthday to ME!!!! Here's a picture of me with the guy I've been dating. He's kinda like a mix of Toasty and Quest -- a glorious combo.

It's been a while since I posted here, so I figured a 30th birthday is the perfect time for a short little reflective post. Can't believe I'm older than all the BP LIs now -- crazy stuff!!!!

Anyway. Here's some things I recommend from experiences in my 20s.

1. Try therapy

As y'all know, I've pulled back from a lot of stuff online. I've been going through a bit of a life reset since 2022, but it started really getting better when I finally ripped the bandaid off and started therapy in 2023. It wasn't an easy start, but it's helped me actually address bad habits within myself that I thought (incorrectly) I was dealing with well on my own. It's freeing. It's humbling. It's made me excited for what's ahead.

2. Exercise

I started working out seriously in my mid-20s and went through waves of how active I was. But when I was active, I saw a noticeable difference in my mood and energy, especially when it came to managing my misophonia. It's not a cure-all, but it is a great boost that helps me through each week. I focus on weight training and love it for the challenge ���� do whatever feels best to you!

3. Accept not being "the best"

Like many of you, I grew up pretty smart and that led to a lot of feelings of personal failure if I fucked up in even the smallest ways that made me look "lesser" (non-perfect scores on tests, failing to understand concepts my coworkers got easily, etc). This even used to bleed into game dev, where suddenly a lot of people looked up to me after BP. Learning to let go of that pressure was freeing. I am not a figure on a mountain top -- I am just me.

4. Keep your hobbies fun

I hated game dev for a while because of things like in #3. It became something I had to do to maintain some arbitrary status instead of something I did for fun. It was hard to recognize that in myself and correct it, but I'm glad I did. So, sorry Adonia AI is taking longer than I thought, but I am simply loving life too much rn!!!! And I love game dev again too, which is the best realization of all.

5. Spend time with people

It gets harder to make close friends as you get older. People get busy. Life gets hectic. You get tired. But making the effort to spend time with people is important. Study after study shows that the healthiest and happiest people as they age are those who have good bonds with other people. And I can definitely feel that.

-----------

Love y'all. Stay healthy and stay safe 💚

[lolxdswag123]

Talk it Out.

Bucky Barnes x ex-avengers!Reader & Bob Reynolds x platonic!reader

a/n: had to make my contribution

Warnings: mature themes, suggestive language, mentions of grief, John Walker, slight angst, fluffyyy

I finished my jog around the track, concluding my morning training. I took a towel to wipe the sweat off my face before standing to exit the gym. 

"Done already?" Walker calls out from the other side of the gym. 

"Shut up, Walker," I call back, rolling my eyes. As if I need more training. 

I've been living with the 'New Avengers' group now for a couple months. Before, I had vowed to work alone for the rest of my life after Thanos... and yet within seconds of my old friend Bucky Barnes calling me, I was in the car and heading to live in this tower again. It didn't feel the same as when it was the Avengers tower. I knew it never would. 

Bucky has been my best friend and confidant ever since we turned into dust together, then immediately after- lost our friends together. It had been a miserable period of time, and I thought that he would never come back to the Avengers life after what we had been through. The day I saw him on the news with this group of misfits, calling themselves the 'New Avengers', I nearly threw up on my shoes. 

It was a couple weeks after that when he to ask me to live with them. He knew how hard it would be for me- for both of us- to move back into that tower and call it home again. It had too many memories, too many ghosts. And yet, he was still my safe place after all this time.

That's how I ended up dealing with the outrageous flirting and taunting from John Walker every. single. day. 

"Walker, worry about your own training. Your form is sloppy," I heard a voice approaching from behind me, interrupting my glaring match with Walker.

I turned to lock eyes with Bucky, who wore an irritated look on his face. He wore a tight fitting black t-shirt and sweatpants. I nearly had to catch my breath as he entered the room. His hair hung over his face and he smelled like a dream. He nodded to me, then shot a look back at Walker as he entered the gym.

"You heading out, doll?" Bucky asked quietly in my direction.

I immediately felt a swarm of butterflies attacking the lining of my stomach, as I always did when he addressed me by this name. I swore sometimes he said it just to mess with my head. He knew exactly how it made me feel.

I nodded hastily, "Yeah, I'm tired today."

He sighed, scanning my face with skepticism, "Alright, I think someone was making breakfast. You should eat."

I pursed my lips, turning back to the exit and starting to leave, "Got it, thanks."

I knew better now than to mistake his concern for any feelings beyond friendship. I had been very forward with the man on multiple occasions- and he has shown no reciprocation of feelings. It was my mistake to think that our bond was anything other than shared trauma and a casual friendship, but to him, that was all it seemed to be. 

As I headed up to the kitchen, I could smell a faint scent of something burning. Bob must have been cooking again. I shook my head and laughed, wondering why nobody has taught him to cook by now.

"Bob?" I called as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, searching for my other teammates. 

"H-hi," he stuttered, scrambling to rinse a smoking pan in the sink.

I walked over to the counter, seeing a plate of burnt eggs and bacon sitting next to the stove. "Everything okay?" I asked, walking around the counter to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"Just b-burnt the food again," Bob said shyly, red slowly creeping up his neck. I shrugged, closing the fridge and turning to face him. He gave up on the smoking pan and shrugged bashfully. 

"Is that for everyone?" I asked, pointing at the plate of burnt food. 

He nodded dejectedly. 

"I like it better burnt anyway," I shrugged, walking over to grab a piece of bacon. I could see his eyes brighten just a fraction of the way out of the side of my vision as I ate the bacon.

When I first met Bob, I had no idea that he was the one responsible for the whole 'New York City Void Incident.' He was too soft, too gentle- always trying to help everyone as much as he could. 

I had been living in the tower again for three days, and had already met the rest of the team. After a particularly rough nightmare, I had awoken and decided to head to the living room to get a glass of water. My nightmares had started getting worse again after the Void Incident. They hadn't been that bad since after everything went down with Thanos. 

After we lost Tony, Steve, and Nat, I struggled a lot. So did Bucky. We stayed together at Sam's for a few weeks, trying to put the pieces of our lives back together. Every night I woke up from a nightmare, I ended up in Bucky's room. He would hold my hand and tell me happy stories until I fell asleep. At that time, I realized that I would do anything for him, and that I wanted to always be around him. It hurt when we moved back to our respective homes and stopped spending this time together, and it hurt even more when I found out from Sam that he was on dating apps just days after.

I was confused, and so lost. Since then, nothing has been the same.

I startled when I heard movement from behind me, and was one millisecond away from throwing a kitchen knife at the intruder before I heard Bob speak.

"W-wait, it's just me," I heard the voice say and quickly turned to face him. He looked sweet, and innocent. The man in front of me was dressed in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and an oversized long sleeved shirt. He looked adorable. 

I kept the knife in my hand, but instantly knew that he would be no threat, "Who are you?" I asked, still observing him.

"Um, I'm Bob," The man said, tugging at the end of one of his sleeves. "Ar-are you Bucky's girl?" he asked, looking nervously at the knife.

"You're Bob?" I asked, subconsciously allowing my shock to seep into my words as I gently set the knife down on the counter. He nodded quickly, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Bob," I said, extending a hand for him to shake. He looked nervously at it- like I might change my mind and punch him instead.

"I'm Y/N," I said, still holding my hand out for him, "And no... Not Bucky's girl, but he did ask me to come live here with everyone..."

Bob reached out, taking my hand and shaking it gently. He sighed quietly when he pulled away- almost as if he was relieved that I had ultimately decided not to punch him. I took a step back, grabbing my water again, taking a sip before speaking again.

"What are you doing up so late?"

He shrugged, looking away, "This is th-the only time I get any peace and quiet..."

I nodded, "I understand, it seems chaotic around here."

He takes a shake breath in, but nods in silent agreement. "What about you?" he asks quietly, before quickly adding, "I-I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just haven't seen you up this late before."

I let a breath escape my lips, shaking my head, "It's okay... I just get nightmares sometimes. Didn't want to go back to sleep."

Bob nodded, seeming to understand. "Well... I wouldn't mind some company. I-I mean, if you feel like staying out here with me. If not, that's okay too."

I let a smile trace my lips, and began walking over to the couch. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Since that night, Bob has been nothing but a shy ball of sunshine in my life. When I get nightmares, we spend the nights sitting in the living room, talking about anything and everything until the sun starts to rise. I help him with training, and he makes sure I don't fall asleep in team meetings. None of the team knew how we got so close, but they didn't ask. They seem to respect Bob's boundaries more than anyone else's. Well, everyone except for Walker.

After breakfast, I headed back to my room to take a long shower and call Pepper. It was early afternoon before I ended up in the living room again. 

"Well look who decided to join us," I heard as soon as I entered the room. I looked up and meet eyes with Walker, of course. Dude doesn't know how to mind his own business. 

I rolled my eyes, taking my seat on the couch next to Bob. He nodded shyly at me, and gave a gentle smile which I returned. 

"You okay?" I asked quietly enough so that nobody else would hear.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, looking at me with concern, "Are you? I know you didn't s-sleep much last night." 

I smiled gently at him, appreciating his care for me, and patted the back of his hand with mine, "I'm okay," I whispered.

We sat there, studying each other with a careful affection, before an agitating voice broke our peace.

"Wow, didn't see that coming," Walker announced, a pointed gaze resting over Bob and myself.

"Wh-what?" Bob asks defensively.

"You two," Walker shrugged like it was common sense.

"What do you mean?" I asked sharply, wanting to protect Bob from any taunts I suspected Walker was preparing to throw at us.

Walker opened his mouth with an antagonizing smirk, but was hastily cut off by a voice in the kitchen.

"Lay off, Walker."

I whipped my head around to see if it was really him who spoke, but quickly turned back again as I felt a blush cover my cheeks. Bucky was grabbing food from the pantry, not even looking in our direction when he chimed in, but I still felt a twist in my gut at the situation. His hair was wet– he must’ve just showered– and he was in a red long sleeve shirt and grey sweatpants. My face was steaming. It wasn't that I was embarrassed– because I definitely wasn't embarrassed. He was the one who distanced from me. I wasn't doing anything wrong by finding comfort in another person. 

What bothered me was how he was defending the fact that I might be with someone else. Not bothered by it in the slightest, but defending it. Bob seemed to sense my discomfort and took my hand in his gently, squeezing to let me know that he could tell something was bothering me. My heart swelled.

"But- see- this is what I'm talking about," Walker continued, now pointing to our hands. 

I could see Bucky approaching the living room out of the corner of my eye and tensed. He made quick eye contact with me, trying to read my expression before glancing quickly down at our hands. I wasn't sure, but I swore I could almost see his right eyebrow raise just a tiny bit.

He pursed his lips and turned back to Walker, "I said. Lay. Off."

Walker rolled his eyes, but was clearly intimidated by Bucky's tone as he decided to shut up after that. 

I had never outwardly mentioned my feelings for Bucky to Bob before, but I had a feeling he might’ve figured it out on his own. After getting so close with him, I quickly learned that he is always analyzing the people around him. He knows a lot more about the team than probably anyone else– except for me. I get the honor of listening to all of his observations in the late hours we spend together. 

With the look Bob gave me as Bucky sat on the couch opposite to us, I immediately could tell that he had it figured out. He gave me a questioning look– almost imperceptible– if I hadn’t been paying close attention. I nodded in response, to which he gave me a shy smile back. He knew. Of course he did. 

Bucky’s gaze returned to us, and I could see his eyes flicker again between us, then down to our joined hands. He turned his head away from us and began watching some old movie that Alexei put on. I don’t know why I thought he would care after all this time. I should have gotten used to the fact that he had been keeping me at an arm’s distance for months now, but my heart must not have gotten the memo. I shook my head, attempting to clear my mind of the disappointment before it started to show.

Alexei laughed at a scene in the movie, then announced, “We should do a movie night tonight. Team bonding or whatever the Winter Soldier is always talking to us about. Yes?”

Yelena sighed from the opposite side of the living room, rolling her eyes, “Dad, no one wants to have a movie night. Especially if you make us watch with Russian subtitles again.”

“I’m with Alexei on this one,” Bucky said, “We need to continue to learn how to coexist together– as a team. It’ll make it easier for us to coexist on the battlefield.”

“The battlefield?” Walker says with a scoff, “Dude thinks he’s still in World War II.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, shooting a sharp look at Walker before saying, “You know what I meant, dipshit.”

I decided to pitch into the conversation, having a brief memory of a similar conversation years ago. “No, no. He’s right. We used to do these stupid team bonding exercises back in the day with the team–” I paused for a second, trying to void my voice of the thick emotions I felt as I spoke. The memories of the special time we spent together before our fight with Thanos never failed to choke me up. I missed them. I missed the old me.

Before I could continue, Bucky took over, “See? And that helped us coordinate better together when we fought– right doll?”

I nodded, and felt a light squeeze on my hand as Bob looked at me encouragingly. “Right,” I managed to get out, “Right. It helped a lot.”

Bucky met my eyes briefly with an understanding expression, then glanced back at Bob and raised his eyebrows at me, asking a silent question. I turned my head.

Yelena stood, stretching her arms out and announced, “I will go get Ava to tell her we are watching a movie.” Everyone nodded or grumbled in acknowledgment as she exited the room.

After Yelena returned with Ava, it was a quiet, relaxing night. We watched ‘Red Dawn’ by suggestion of Alexei, of course, but it wasn’t too bad. I started nodding off about halfway through, feeling the weight of my lack of sleep starting to push through the surface. I leaned onto Bob’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

“You okay?” I heard him whisper in my ear a couple minutes later.

I nodded, too tired to speak.

“H-he keeps looking over here,” he whispered, and I blinked my eyes open to see what he was talking about. Straight in front of me, Bucky was staring right at us. When we made eye contact he pursed his lips, and I could see his eyebrows pinching together in the light from the TV. He shook his head lightly and turned back his attention to the movie.

I dozed off again, and when I woke up the credits were rolling. The only people left in the living room were myself, Bob— who looked like he could fall asleep himself— Alexei, and Bucky.

I sat up from where I had been leaning on Bob and stretched, getting ready to head to bed myself.

“Y-you going to bed?” Bob asked, sitting up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

I reached out to his hand, gave it a squeeze and nodded, “Might be back out here in a few hours, though.”

Bob smiled gently, nodding and waved goodnight to me.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” I said, “Night Alexei, see you both tomorrow,” I waved to them, starting to exit the room.

As soon as I entered the elevator my heart stopped as I heard a, “Hey, wait up,” coming from outside. Of course. A metal hand stopped the doors from closing as Bucky entered the elevator with me.

“I’m turning in, too,” he said, yawning.

I nodded, not letting myself speak.

“You like the movie?” He asked casually, turning to face me. I stayed facing the elevator doors.

I shrugged, “I kind of fell asleep… so I missed most of it.”

I could see him nodding in the corner of my eye. “Yeah…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

The elevator dinged, the doors opening as we reached our floor. I was the first to exit.

“Well, goodnight, Bucky.” I said, already walking toward my room.

I felt a cold grip on my hand, and was pulled back from my quick steps.

“Hang on,” he said softly, looking down at me, running his flesh hand over his face. He said nothing.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying to ignore the feelings that were overtaking me from the moment he stepped into the elevator.

He shuffled, letting go of my hand, and nodded to my door, “Can we talk?”

I sighed, considering what it would feel like to have him in my room, at this hour, talking alone. I shuddered, but nodded, opening the door to my bedroom. He followed me in.

I closed the door behind us, staring up at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

“Let’s sit down,” he said, strolling over to my bedroom and taking a seat. I joined him.

“What’s up?” I asked again, kicking off my shoes and avoiding eye contact. I knew as soon as I looked into those steel blue eyes that I would be a goner.

He sighed, and took my hand in his, instantly rubbing circles on the back of it. “Look at me,” he breathed. I hesitated, taking a deep breath to compose myself.

“Doll…” he said. I looked up.

As soon as we made eye contact I could see a sadness behind his eyes. One that made me feel guilty, for some reason. Guilty that I hadn’t noticed before— guilty that I hadn’t taken care of him. But then I remembered— we don’t do that anymore.

“Hey,” he said, sensing that I’d started to lose focus, “Are you okay?” He asked gently, still rubbing circles on the back of my hand.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, “I’m fine. Sorry, just tired.”

He nodded, taking a breath and running his metal hand through his hair. “I know, you haven’t slept much at all lately. But that’s not what I meant.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, completely taken aback by his statement. I didn’t think anyone in the tower was aware of my arrangement with Bob, especially not him.

He ignored my question. “What I meant was— are you okay after tonight? I know you were thinking of them. I was too. I just had to check on you, doll.”

There it was again. His tender words and actions had me falling deeply— madly— but I pushed those feelings down. I couldn’t deal with them tonight. Not again.

“I’m fine. Thanks for checking,” I said, almost believing my own lie. I seemed to be the only one.

Bucky sighed again, scooting closer to me. He slowly reached up with his metal hand, brushing a hair out of my face as he examined my expression. I shivered at the cold touch, but held eye contact.

“Okay,” he resigned, “Okay…” he pulled his hand out of mine, moving further away from me and I instantly felt more on edge. I frowned, looking back down at his hands. The hands that I used to hold to fall asleep, as he whispered happy thoughts in my ear. The hands that I always wished would do more than just hold my own, but never did.

He shifted, and I could sense a change in his demeanor before he spoke again, “I wasn’t going to ask… but after today, I just want to know. I can keep Walker off your back, I just want you to tell me the truth. Are you and Bob together?”

His voice sounded tight when he said it. It warmed my heart that he is still looking out for me, but for all of the wrong reasons.

I shrugged, already on edge, “That isn’t any of your business.”

He rolled his eyes, visibly getting irritated, “Come on, doll. You know you can tell me. What happened? It’s like you put a wall up and you won’t let me through anymore.”

I felt something snap inside me, “You put the wall up, Buck. You moved away. You are the one who stopped answering my calls. You are the one who left. Not me. So yeah, it’s none of your business who I might be seeing.”

He sighed, standing up from the bed and throwing his arms to his sides, “So you are seeing him?”

I stood up in front of him, raising my voice slightly, but keeping it low enough to not wake the others. “No, Bucky. I’m not seeing him. He’s just been the only person who’s been there for me. That should’ve been you, but you left.”

Bucky’s face fell, his eyes reflecting that deep sadness that they held earlier. “Sweetheart, will you just relax?”

I shook my head, looking away, trying to blink away the hot tears that were burning in my eyes. He took a step toward me, slowly extending an arm. His hand met my cheek, gently, and he turned my face to look at his own. When he saw the tears in my eyes his shoulders sagged. He took a step back and sat on the bed with his shoulders on his knees, and his palms rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t know.” He said, looking at the floor. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so instead just shook my head.

“Sweetheart, please. Will you come here so I can apologize properly?” He asked softly, extending one of his hands to me. I hesitantly took it and sat on the bed, a few feet away from him.

He held my hand and looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry, doll. I had no idea. All this time— all this time I thought you had moved on. I saw you with Bob one of your first nights here. I thought you and him were… well— it doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

I stared at him, unsure of what to say. It was weird— having a conversation like this with him after so long. It felt nice. It felt refreshing, like I’d been away for months and I was finally coming home— but I didn’t say that.

“Oh, baby,” Bucky said, taking my other hand in his metal one, looking down at them sadly, “When I was distant… I wasn’t trying to be. It was such a weird time. I was so caught up with the Valentina bullshit… then I had to save all of their asses,” he cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the other bedrooms. I let out a small laugh, and I saw his eyes soften for just a millisecond.

He squeezed my hands, looking deeply into my eyes, “Doll, you know I would’ve been with you every day if I could’ve… that’s why I asked you to move in here with me. I thought things were going to be—“ he paused, looking back down at our hands, before starting again, “I thought we were going to be like how we were. Then I saw you with Bob… and gosh, sweetheart, I just wanted you to be happy. It broke my heart but I just wanted you to be happy…”

I closed my eyes, feeling incredibly stupid. I breathed out a long breath, before I trusted myself to speak.

“Buck…” my voice came out small, but steady, “I didn’t know. I wish you would’ve came to me after you saw that…” I paused, getting my thoughts together as I shifted my weight on the mattress.

“But…” I continued, “You could’ve called. You could’ve just filled me in on your life— instead of shutting me out— instead of making me feel so alone.”

He inched forward, reaching out to cup my face so that I looked right into his eyes. He looked so devastated and I was starting to crack— slowly— one piece of me falling right back into his arms at a time.

“Doll, I wish you knew how much I wanted to. Really…” he shook his head, “After I left, I started focusing on work. I was trying to save up— I wanted to—“ he stopped, sighing out, “Oh, doll, I was trying to get us a place… then I found out we were moving into the tower… you were the first call I made.”

I was speechless. I was standing there like a fish, opening and closing my mouth— a million things that I wanted to say— but none of them seeming right.

“So…” I said, unsure of what would come out of my mouth next. “You… you wanted…” I trailed off, too overwhelmed with this information.

“I wanted you to move in with me,” Bucky finished for me, “When I asked you to move into the tower— of course I wanted you to join the team— but most importantly I wanted you to move in with me. To be…”

He looked straight into my eyes when he said the last part. “To be mine, doll. That’s what I wanted.”

I melted in his hands, completely wrecked by his confession. Finally, after all of this time, I allowed my gaze to flicker between his eyes and his lips. Without saying a word out loud he nodded, pulling me in.

Our lips met softly, but I quickly pulled away, shaking my head again. “N-no,” I choked out, “but… but what about the dating apps? Sam told me you joined them right after you moved out. Right after everything happened with us.”

Bucky leaned back, sighing and rolling his eyes. He looked at me and said, “Sam orchestrated all of that. I didn’t— I didn’t know if you wanted me to tell him about us— Doll, I didn’t even know if there was an us yet,” he sighed again, rubbing a palm to his forehead, “I never used them, just downloaded them to shut him up. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know you knew about that.”

I nodded, breathing out shakily. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky breathed, reaching out to my hand with his own, “So what are you thinking?”

I paused for a second, before letting out a breathy laugh, “That I need to talk to Bob.”

His expression turned confused, then hurt, so I quickly said, “He is the only one who knew about my feelings for you. And— he’s kind of my best friend. I need to fill him in on everything.”

Bucky nodded, sighing again and stood up from my bed, letting go of my hand. “I’m glad we had that talk. It was long overdue.”

“I agree, very long overdue,” I replied, nodding.

He smiled down at me, pausing for a moment, then shifted, “Alright, I’ll let you get to bed, doll. You need the sleep.”

I nodded, looking back up at him. He slowly leaned down, carefully taking my face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, before standing and turning to leave.

“Wait—“ I called out before I could stop myself. He turned back, looking at me expectantly. “I will,” I said with no further explanation.

He paused, a confused look crossing his face, “You will, what?”

“I’ll move in with you. To your room,” I said, nodding— feeling confident in my words.

A smile instantly covered his face, reaching his eyes. He looked away, like we was afraid I might take it back.

“And I want you. I want to be yours,” I nodded, feeling a smile overtaking my own face.

He crouched down, immediately taking my face in his hands, giving me a slow, gentle kiss that I’ve been longing for forever. His cold hand on my face made me shiver. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, drawing him closer to me and deepening the kiss. He moved to sit on the bed next to me, pulling away for just a moment and searching my eyes desperately.

He reached out again, and hastily took my face in his hands and kissed me hard. I felt every nerve in my body ignite, responding to every move he made. I reciprocated, running my fingers through his hair.

He tugged me closer, drawing me to throw one leg over his own, our chests aligning. I gasped, but didn’t break the kiss. He gripped the back of my legs, pulling me impossibly close until there was no more room between us. He broke the kiss, traveling down to my neck, tilting my jaw up gently with his metal hand. I shivered at the cold metal pressing against me.

“You don’t— know how— long I’ve— wanted to have you— like this,” he said between kisses, trailing down to my collarbone.

I gripped his hair, tilting my head back even further to allow access. “I’ve wanted it since the first time we shared a bed,” I breathlessly confessed in the heat of the moment.

He pulled away for a moment, resting his hand on my chin, running his thumb over my bottom lip. “Oh, doll,” he breathed, looking at me intensely, “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.”

My heart fluttered at his words, and I had to fight back the tears burning in my eyes at his confession.

“Buck…” I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “You mean everything to me.”

“Will you come stay tonight? In my room?” He asked, suddenly sounded shy.

I nodded fiercely, “I’ll come stay every night. Always.”

He breathed a sigh of happiness, “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, doll.”

“Wait,” I said, pulling away abruptly, “I have one condition.”

He smiled at me lovingly, “Anything.”

“I still have to go see Bob. At least some nights.”

“Deal.” He leaned in, giving me a quick kiss before lifting me up and carrying me to his room for the night.

The next morning, we walked to training together. Everyone’s heads turned when we entered the gym, but nobody said a word. Bob waved at me from the bench he was sitting on, giving me a small thumbs up when Bucky wasn’t looking.

“Okay, so we’re all going to just pretend the walls here aren’t paper thin?” Walker finally spoke.

This time, instead of glaring daggers at him, Bucky just smiled and looked at me lovingly.

[inkfire-scribe]

I walked by the 7-11 every day on my way home from school. I always had, really, but this spring I've been actually looking forward to it, because I would see the 7-11 dragon.

She wasn't huge, as dragons went, which was probably why the manager didn't try to chase her off. She was obviously nesting, though, and that made them nervous. Me and some of the guys got together to tell the 7-11 manager we wanted her to stay, and if they just let her nest up there we'd come by a few times a week and get soda and candy and stuff. I mean, we were gonna get soda and candy and stuff anyway, but getting them at the 7-11 wasn't too big an ask.

So they let her stay, and we got to watch her build her nest and get comfy. We even shared our snacks with her sometimes. She especially likes Flamin Hot Cheetos, but we were careful not to give them to her every day. She needed real food.

Dougie even climbed up there to clear away the bones and stuff when it started to smell. She let him do it because she got a whole bag of Cheetos out of it, I'm pretty sure, but Dougie refuses to admit that's what he did. I know, though. I found the bag.

I've been stopping by every day for a month now, and honestly it was impressive how big she was getting, her tummy ballooning over the last week or so as her eggs started taking up all the room she had. She got grumpy a couple days ago and hasn't been accepting any snacks, so we thought that meant she was about ready to lay her eggs.

And we were right!

Today I stopped by to see her and she was sitting up where I could see her, catching the last of the evening sun. She was so skinny compared to just yesterday I almost didn't believe it. She spotted me almost right off and whistled - it was her happy whistle. I think she was actually inviting me up to see her nest.

I'm scared of heights, so I didn't go up, but Dougie says there are 8 eggs in the nest now, all of them big and leathery.

I can't wait until they hatch.

The 7-11 dragon laid her eggs! 

You can watch the process of this painting under the story highlight “Process 20″ on my Instagram!

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[keithyp00]

︵‿︵‿୨♡ Pretty Little Baby ♡୧‿︵‿︵

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: slow burn, hurt/comfort, romance, emotional vulnerability, mentions of PTSD, minor language, soft!Bucky, pining and tension, kissing, implied intimacy, fluff, 1950s music, scars, body image

Song Inspiration: Pretty Little Baby by Connie Francis

Word Count: 2.4K

Author Note: Hello! Sorry this one is out so late... This is another Connie Francis fic (because her songs work for him so well <3) that I'm pretty proud of. This note is to tell you guys that I don't think I bombed my AP exam this morning so that's good! AND that my post for tomorrow will be delayed to Friday night because of my PROM! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

Pretty little baby / you say that maybe you'll be thinkin' of me / and try to love me / Pretty little baby / I'm hoping that you do~

~~~~~

Bucky Barnes wasn't supposed to fall in love. Not again. Not here.

The sunlight pooled through the tiny cafe window just enough to trace gold over the soft curve of your cheek. You sat tucked in the small booth located behind the counter- specifically for workers- like a secret waiting to be discovered, the vintage radio located next to you crooning out a low, crackling tune- something old. Something he vaguely remembered the melody of.

"Pretty little baby, I'm so in love with you~"

Your fingers tapped along the rim of your coffee cup, mimicking the tempo. You didn't see him at first. You never did. Not really. Not in the way others did- with their reverence, their suspicion, their fear. No, you had this gentle way of looking at him like he wasn't a ghost. Like he wasn't a man made of nightmares. You saw through the steel and the silence.

You saw him.

He'd been coming here for three months now. Tuesdays and Fridays. You always worked the morning shift, tucked in your apron and a smile so warm it melted his resolve. Bucky told himself the coffee was the reason he kept returning. Told himself the old songs reminded him of simpler times. Told himself it wasn't you.

But it was always you.

Today, you looked different. A little sad. Your smile not quite reaching your eyes.

"Hey, soldier," you greeted softly when he finally stepped forward to the counter, voice like a balm.

"Hey, doll," he murmured, almost under his breath. The nickname slipped out sometimes, like his body remembered the rhythm of a past life even when he didn't mean to.

Your lips twitched a little higher. You always liked when he called you that.

"Coffee?" You asked, already reaching for his usual.

"Yeah." He hesitated. "And... maybe a slice of that apple pie?"

You blinked. "Trying something new?"

Bucky shrugged, pretending it didn't take everything in him to break routine. "Thought I'd live a little."'

You gave him a playful salute. "That's the spirit."

As you turned to plate the dessert, Bucky glanced toward the radio. The song still played.

"Pretty little baby / You said maybe..."

It tugged at something in his chest. A memory, maybe. A fragment. He remembered holding someone close on a night like this. A whisper of perfume, the hem of a dress, the way music softened all the edges. But that wasn't this life. That wasn't now.

This was now. And you were here.

"Something wrong?" He asked when you set down his plate with slightly trembling fingers.

You smiled- small, too practiced. "Just... tired."

"Liar," he replied gently.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. Startled. Then they softened.

"My roommate's moving out," you confessed. "And I can't afford the place on my own. I guess I'm worried I'll have to leave the neighborhood. Find a new job. Start over."

HIs fork paused halfway to his mouth.

"You thinking about leaving?" He asked carefully.

You nodded. "Unless something changes."

Bucky set his fork down.

Something about the idea of you being gone made his heart lurch in his chest. He didn't want to admit how often he built his week around these visits. How often he remembered the sound of your laugh hours after hearing it. How he had memorized the smell of this cafe because it smelled like you.

"You shouldn't have to start over," he stated.

Your smile faltered. "Sometimes, you don't get a choice."

He knew that better than anyone.

There was a beat of silence. Just the soft voice of Connie Francis filling in the cracks between you.

Bucky cleared his throat. "You like this kind of music?"

Your eyes seemed to light up- really light up- and for a second, the weight on your shoulders vanished.

"I love it," you smiled. "My grandmother used to play these old records. Connie, Doris, Patsy. She used to say romance was simpler back then."

He smiled, something wistful curing in his chest. "Yeah, I remember."

You blinked. "You remember?"

He hesitated, caught. And then slowly, he let the words fall. "I was born in 1917."

The world stilled. You stared. Then stared a little longer. His coffee cooling beside the both of you.

You didn't ask. Not about the arm. Not about the Winter Soldier. Not even about Steve.

Instead, you reached across the table and placed your hand over his flesh one.

"That must be a lot to carry," you said.

And somehow- somehow- that was worse than pity. It was kindness. It made something in his chest ache.

~~~~~

Weeks passed.

You didn't leave. Somehow, a friend of a friend needed a roommate- really just someone to help pay half the rent for a place they rarely ever stayed in. You moved three blocks away instead of thirty minutes. You still worked at the cafe. Bucky still came by.

Sometimes he came just to sit with you during your break. Sometimes you played cards behind the counter. Sometimes he helped you change the records on slow afternoons, humming low and quiet.

Once, he brought you a tiny potted plant with a tag that just said "for the sunshine behind the counter."

You nearly cried.

You started listening to more old songs. Started humming them around him. Started smiling wider every time he walked in. You didn't know when you fell in love with him. You just knew that one day, Bucky Barnes was no longer a customer. He was a presence. A comfort.

A heartbeat. And you were his. But neither of you said it. Not until the night it all came undone.

~~~~~

It was raining.

Bucky didn't show up for his usual Tuesday coffee. Then Friday. Then the next Tuesday.

You didn't have his number. You didn't know where he lived. You were just a girl behind a counter who somehow memorized the man behind all the pain.

When he showed up again, he looked wrecked.

Eyes bloodshot. Jaw tight. Hair damp from the storm outside. He didn't say hello. Didn't order coffee.

Just stared at you like he didn't believe you were real.

"I'm sorry," he said.

You frowned. "Where were you?"

"I... I couldn't come," he whispered. "I couldn't see you. I couldn't look at you and pretend I'm not broken."

Your chest tightened.

"You don't have to pretend," you said quietly.

He stepped closer. "I dreamt I hurt you," he confessed, voice breaking. "My mind... sometimes I can't control what I see. What I feel. I thought if I stayed away, I could protect you. But it just- hurt more."

You were shaking now. "Bucky..."

"I'm not what you think I am," he said. "I'm not a good man. I've done things that haunt me. I'm not fixed. I'm not even whole. I didn't want to let you close because I knew- I knew I'd start to hope. And hope is dangerous."

Tears welled in your eyes.

"Don't you get it?" You whispered. "I don't need perfect. I need you."

Silence.

Then his voice- ragged.

"You deserve someone better."

"Maybe," you replied. "But I want you."

That cracked something in him. Broke him open.

And suddenly, he was holding you like a lifeline, forehead pressed to yours, rain in his hair, in his lashes, on his lips. He was trembling- an earthquake in a man's body. And then he kissed you.

Soft. Desperate. Real.

Like he's been waiting a hundred years just to find someone who didn't flinch.

~~~~~

"Meet me at the car hop or at the pop shop / meet me in the moonlight or in the daylight / pretty little baby, I'm so in love with you~"

The record played again a week later.

You danced in your kitchen barefoot while Bucky cooked behind you. He was clumsy with a spatula but careful with your heart. His metal arm wrapped around your waist as you spun into him, laughter spilling between you.

"I like this one," he murmured into your hair.

"I know," you smiled, eyes twinkling. "You always hum it."

Bucky kissed your temple.

"Pretty little baby," he whispered, echoing the lyrics. And this time, when you looked at him... You didn't see the Winter Soldier.

You saw James Buchanan Barnes.

And he was yours.

~~~~~

The first time you saw him shirtless, it wasn't intentional.

You'd only meant to bring him coffee.

It was barely past nine on a Sunday morning- quiet, sleepy light pouring through your bedroom window, another morning where your roommate was in a city thousands of miles away for work- and you padded down the hallway with two mugs in hand and nothing but one of Bucky's old Henley's falling past your thighs. You hadn't expected him to be out of bed already. You hadn't expected to find him standing in your bathroom, door ajar, wiping steam off the mirror as sunlight caught every scar on his back.

The coffee nearly slipped from your fingers.

He turned at the sound of your breath catching, eyes wide, chest bare, metal arm glinting sliver-blue in the light. He looked like a statue- carved from war and grief, tall and scarred and too beautiful to be real.

"Sorry," he muttered, reaching for a towel.

You swallowed. "Don't- don't cover up-"

HIs hand paused. Towel clenched at his side. His shoulders tensed as if waiting for you to flinch. For you to turn away. For you to look at him and see a monster.

But you didn't.

You just stepped closer. Set the mugs on the counter. Reached up with trembling fingers to touch the edge of one older scar that curled itself across his ribs.

"Does it still hurt?" You asked.

His throat bobbed. "Not always."

You leaned in. Pressing a kiss just beside it.

Then another.

And another.

You traced the map of his wounds like a poem written specifically for you. He stood still, breathing shallowly, as your lips moved over the place where flesh met metal, where skin had broken and grown over again. His eyes fluttered shut. His hand trembled when it came to rest on your waist.

"Pretty little baby," you whispered, half a breath, the song still echoing somewhere in your heart. "I want all of you."

And he kissed you- raw and real and aching.

Like he couldn't believe he was allowed.

~~~~~

Later, when your head lay on his chest, your fingers drawing idle shapes over his sternum, he spoke.

"I used to think I wasn't allowed to want anything," he murmured. "After everything I did... I thought wanting happiness was selfish. I thought being touched would always feel like control. But with you-"

His voice broke.

"With you, I feel human again."

Tears pricked your eyes. You turned your face into his skin and breathed him in.

"Then stay human with me," you whispered.

He did.

He stayed.

~~~~~

Time passed in quiet, golden pieces.

You slowly moved out of your apartment and into his. You left a toothbrush beside his. He left a dog-eared version of The Hobbit on your nightstand and insisted it was better than the movie.

You started watching black-and-white films together on an old projector screen you borrowed from a friend. He fell asleep on your lap during Roman Holiday. You took a picture- his face soft, peaceful, your fingers tangled in his hair- and set it as your lock screen. He pretended to grumble about it.

But he smiled every time he saw it.

You learned that he liked lemon in his tea. That he still had nightmares, but fewer of them now. That he hummed Connie Francis songs without realizing it, especially when he cooked. That he never quite believed he was lovable- but was trying, every day, to let you show him otherwise.

~~~~~

Then came the letter.

It was from the VA. A mandatory psych review. Another round of red tape. Another cold reminder that no matter how far he came, the world still saw him as dangerous first and human second.

You found him sitting on the edge of your bed, jaw clenched, paper crumpled in one fist.

"Hey," you said gently.

He didn't look at you.

"I don't want to go," he said. "I don't want to sit in some room and explain why I flinch at loud noises or why I check the door five times before sleeping. I don't want to be studied."

Your heart ached.

You sat beside him. Laced your fingers through his.

"You don't owe anyone an explanation for surviving," you stated. "But if you go... do it for you. Not them."

He exhaled slowly. Then nodded.

"I want to be better," he said. "For you."

You cupped his face, made him look at you.

"You're already enough," you whispered.

And that night, he made love to you like he believed it.

~~~~~

Spring came slowly.

The cafe bloomed with lavender outside the windows. You reopened the patio seating. He brought you flowers on your lunch break- daisies, once. Then violets. Then roses.

"You're spoiling me," you teased, cradling the bouquet.

He smirked. "You deserve it."

You kissed him on your break. In front of the window. In front of half the neighborhood.

He didn't care who saw.

For the first time in nearly a century, James Buchanan Barnes didn't hide.

~~~~~

But healing wasn't linear.

Some nights, he still woke up gasping.

Some days, he paced the apartment for hours before he could settle.

Once, he got quiet for a week after seeing his reflection in a store window and not recognizing himself. You didn't push. You just stayed close. Made tea. Held him when he let you.

"I don't know why you stay," he said one night, voice rough.

You pressed your forehead to his.

"Because I love you."

He didn't speak. But his arms wrapped around you tighter than ever.

And you knew.

He loved you, too.

~~~~~

One summer night, as fireflies blinked outside the open balcony and the radio hummed in the background, he pulled you into a dance in the living room. Bare feet on cool wood. Fingers on his collar. Chin tucked into his neck.

You swayed. Slowly. Softly.

He kissed your temple. Then your cheek. Then the corner of your lips.

You tilted your head back to look at him.

"What are you thinking?" You whispered.

HIs blue eyes shimmered.

"That I want this," he said. "I want you. Forever, if you'll have me."

You laughed. A breathless, tearful sound.

"I've been yours since you walked into my cafe three months late and asked for a coffee with way too much sugar."

He groaned. "I said I was trying something new!"

You laughed and kissed him again.

"I love you," you smiled.

He closed his eyes.

"I love you more than I ever thought I could," he breathed. "And that terrifies me."

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Then let's be scared together."

[hitomisuzuya]

hellooooo ^^ i'd like to request modern uni au kinda, where scara and y/n live together and their domestic life mostly pleaseee :> extra fluff with smut toooo

I absolutely adore the way you write scara in ANY au / version of him,,, its just feels so him djhtfkjyfkyt i love your writing so much O_O

scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. smut. fingering. clit stimulation. college au.

aww thank you so much❤️ i hope this turned out to your liking 🥺 you guys can pick what is cooked here. but for the sake of smooth narration, and because i got this idea from making a frozen pizza, that's what i wrote in.

scaramouche knew he was serious about you the moment he kissed you for the first time, drunk at the party, devouring your mouth with his tongue after you had just chastised him being an asshole.

he hasn't wanted anyone so badly ever since.

the following year, being the trust fund boy that he is, he splurged on a luxurious apartment right outside of campus to move into with you. and honestly, he is quite enjoying domestic life. it's quiet, peaceful and he got to wake up next to you every morning.

life is spoiling him in areas he never thought it would. to him, you are way out of his league. so far out of his league that you weren't even playing the same sport. yet, he hit a home run anyways and locked you down.

to be fair, the chores are split down the middle. more often than not though, scaramouche did your chores in the morning for you if you were nervous about an exam and wanted to study a little more that morning, or if you didn't feel well.

usually, the cooking is left up to him. since his mother couldn't cook, he had been dead set on perfecting cooking growing up. anything to be better at something that his mom could never be. good at.

today in between classes, you insisted that you wanted to make lunch today. you flashed him the cutest smile with an even cuter blush on your cheeks and declared you wanted to prove that you are future wife material.

he stood next to you in front of the oven, where a pizza sat baking perfectly positioned on the center rack. you even left the oven light on so you could keep an eye on it, glancing up at the kitchen timer ticking away on top of the stove. you have such a determined, concentrated expression on your face.

"you know staring at it isn't going to speed up time," he couldn't help but tease. you just look so fucking cute.

you let out a shy squeak. "i know, it's just..i am nervous. it's my first time making anything for you. i know there is no way for me to mess this up but still," you glance up at him for a moment before looking away shyly, "i have something to prove after all."

how cute you are so afraid of messing up in front of him.

scaramouche sighs, putting a hand on your head. "stop being so nervous. i am going to eat it no matter how it turns out." you followed the directions down to an exact tee. he is sure not even the great gordon ramsey would find fault with your method.

"scara, that's not the point. i want it to taste good," you reply a little exasperated. "i don't want you to just eat because i made it. i want you to eat it because it's good," you cock your hip restlessly, looking back at the oven light.

"you are way overthinking this," scaramouche chuckles softly. to soothe you, he pets his hand through your soft hair.

the oven timer dings. "oh, it's done," you said, hesitating while you open the oven.

the next series of events made a flutter of panic shoot through scaramouche. you only put on one oven mit to pull the rack out, and took it off. you reached into the oven with your bare hands to take hold of the tin foil.

"what do you think you are doing?!" he spoke so suddenly that it startles you. he quickly grabs your hands. "you don't have oven mittst on! you could burn yourself!" he took the pizza out of the oven, and kicks the oven door closed, turning the oven off.

"scara, tin foil doesn't get hot," you try and reassure, "i didn't burn myself, honest," you put your hand in his when he took hold of it.

"you almost burnt the side of your knuckle on the inside of oven," he murmurs, feeling relieved he didn't see a burn mark. he brushes his fingers over your unmarred skin. his future wife is delicate, damn it.

"but, scara, what about your hands. you reached into the oven without any mitts on either," you intertwine your fingers through his, squeezing his hand before bringing it to your lips. "you could've burnt yourself too. your fingers are too beautiful for that."

just as his concern for you made your heart flutter, scaramouche felt his flutter. and watching you flit about the apartment, trying to prove that you could be his little wife really made his cock ache.

"maybe i scalded them a little," he said, taking his hand out of yours. he brought his fingers to your lips. "be a doll, and soothe them for me," he taps two fingers on your lips.

your cheeks flush as you open your mouth. your tongue glides along his fingers as he pushes them into your mouth. scaramouche has such capable, fucking beautiful fingers. your tongue tingles as he gently presses down on it.

putting a hand on your hip, he backs you so that you are trapped between him and the kitchen counter. you gag softly as he pushes his fingers into your throat. his cock pulses feeling your eager little mouth start to suck wetly on his fingers.

he sighs shakily seeing the lovestruck look of adoration in your eyes for him, drool collecting at the corners of your mouth. "look at you," he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of your mouth, "you can never get enough of me."

the hand on your hip wanders down between your legs. moving your thighs apart, he cups your cunt outside your jeans. "the pizza may smell good, but you look even better," his cock gets harder watching the blush on your cheeks darkening at his praise.

scaramouche unbuttons your jeans, hardly hesitating in dipping his hand inside your dampening panties. "let's tend to both my hands, shall we?"

you muffle a moan on his fingers as parts your folds, and finds your clit. he is delighted to discover you are already getting very wet, very fast. "you just keep sounding all cute while i make you cum," he slowly rubs your clit, teasing it until your walls clench around nothing.

your clit throbs underneath his fingers, making you squirm as your hips rock into them. he knows your body inside and out, having no trouble reducing you to drooling mess, muffling the sweetest moans on his fingers.

he smirks hearing your moans try and rise in octave. "go on, pretty. cum all over my fingers. you've been such a good girl," he purrs pushing his fingers inside of you. he hooks his fingers accurately into your sweet spot, taking care that they always rub over your clit pumping in and out of you.

his sweet words are all it takes to make you come undone. your body shakes as your orgasm washes over you. sucking eagerly on his fingers in appreciation. scaramouche hums in approval seeing the state he has reduced you to. "now," he said, pulling his fingers from your mouth, "let's sit you on my cock for a while. the pizza can wait."

[poisonofthepaint]

total control

after a wild shift, you head back to jack's apartment to hang out like you usually do, but today, something feels different. inspired on the song total control by djo :)

cw: age gap, lots of exposition, kissing, dryhumping briefly, fingering, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl, honey,), jack calls reader young lady in a nonsexual way, jack is an old man and it shows, dom!jack, sub!reader, lmk if i missed anything

wc: 3.8k

It wasn’t completely unusual to go back to Jack’s apartment with him after a shift. It had become a habit after the PittFest casualty. You had been put in the red zone with Robby, Abbot, and Samira, and you and Jack had hit it off immediately. You flowed together so easily, it made you switch to night shift. The way he taught was more attuned to you than the way Robby taught. All excitement, all thrills, unconventional medicine, doing stuff you probably weren’t exactly ready for, but Jack was standing beside you the whole time. It wasn’t that exciting surgical stuff didn’t happen on the day shift, because it definitely did. But, when your mentor doesn’t have the boss breathing down his neck every hour, you can get away with a few more things. Jack let you do procedures that you had once believed you would only ever read about. Anytime there was something interesting going on, he’d pull you from the bedside of a patient just so you could perform it.  Ellis joked that he was playing favorites, but he didn’t seem to care.

The first night shift you worked after PittFest, he had let you do a REBOA. The patient had fallen onto a wooden fence after a night of drinking, and he came in with the piece of wood still inserted right next to his pelvis. Jack stood at your shoulder, carefully walking you through everything. How to remove the wood, where to place the balloon, how much to fill it up. He described everything that was happening while you performed it. He was huddled behind you, almost whispering it into your ear. To say Walsh was pissed was an understatement, but after that? You never wanted to work while the sun was out again.

Despite the age gap, it had slowly divulged into a friendship rather than a mentorship. Jack was really, really fucking funny. He had always seemed like a hard ass to you when you saw him for the brief transitions from night to day, but on his shift, he was a lot looser, less tense. There had been times you had to step away to gather yourself. It was mostly that he didn’t bullshit people. He once told a disorderly patient that he was going to give him a spanking if he didn’t stop being a jackass to the nurses, and you thought you were going to die. 

You started hanging out after your third week. At first, you would just go out to a diner after. A lot of time all you wanted after a shift was sugar, and you knew the waitress at the small joint. She would fire up the milkshake machine for you, even though it was seven in the morning. Jack gave you shit for it, but you didn’t care. He was more simple, just some scrambled eggs and sausage, maybe a black coffee if it was an especially difficult shift, and he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway.

But, you two were drawn together, it was a nice friendship. You trusted him to tell you what to do, and he trusted you to listen. And that was that.

The first time you went to his apartment, you were shocked by how empty it was. He was a simple man, to say the least. A recliner, a nice couch, a huge, mounted flatscreen, and a framed photo of some of his army buddies. Eventually, you convinced him to get a small, fake plant for the corner. He told you no at first, saying he didn’t need decorations, but the next time you came over, you saw a big, fake Monstera in the corner. He mumbled a quick, don’t even say anything, and you kept your mouth shut. 

Hanging out with Jack after work in his apartment made you feel like a guy. He would hand you a beer some days, and turn on the TV. He watched old man shit, like Gold Rush, or American Pickers. You realized this was his equivalent to doomscrolling. It was his way to turn off his brain. At first, you found the hangout a bit strange. But then, you also realized that he probably didn’t know how to hang out with a woman half his age, so he just treated you like he would any of his guy friends, which you found inexplicably endearing. You would hang out for a few hours, talk about the shift, and then head home. 

But today was different. Today, you felt the tension between you two. For the first time, you realized, oh, I might actually like this guy. Not in the friend way, not in the mentor way, but in a crush way. Usually, after a shitty full moon shift, you just wanted to be alone, but not today. All you wanted to do was watch American Pickers, drink his beer– well, drink the type of beer that you liked, that he had started buying for you– and sink into his couch. You realized, you didn’t just want company after this shift, you wanted Jack.

You push off the feeling as you exit the hospital together. Jack doesn’t live far, a fifteen minute walk down the street. It was nice out today, the sun shines down on you, it makes the top of your head feel hot. After the horrible winter, it felt really nice to see the big star again. You let out a content sigh.

“Sometimes I think the sun fixes everything.” you say, the vitamin D seeping into your skin. 

“Why the hell are you on night shift then, kid?”

“Dumb question. Because if I work the day shift, then I can’t be outside while the sun is shining, duh.”

He opens his mouth in a dramatic way, raising his eyebrows, “Wow, you finally made a good point.”

You scoff at him, “Oh, c’mon,”

He looks over at you and gives you a small smirk. Like he knows exactly how to push your buttons, and he does.

“I cannot believe how many people were in tonight with dumb shit. Like, how do you even get a whole wine glass stuck in your foot? Literally, how is that possible?”

Jack shakes his head, “I used to think the full moon shit was a joke, but I don’t know anymore.”

The rest of the walk is quiet. You hadn’t even discussed going back to his apartment, it was just part of routine now. 

When you reach the door, he unlocks it, and swings it open, heading to the fridge first to grab the two cans. 

He settles into his recliner, and you go to your spot on the couch. You notice he folded the blanket you always use. You lay it across your body, and it smells, clean? Like fresh cotton.

“Did you wash this?”

“Yeah, you’re gross after your shift, didn’t want it on my couch.”

You scoff again, appalled at his truthful statement. “You’re one to talk, old man.”

“Old man?”

“You heard me.”

“I’ll tell Robby to put you on day shift if you keep talking like that, young lady.”

You don’t want to admit that the nickname makes your face feel hot, “God, please no, I cannot deal with Gloria.”

He huffs out a laugh, the TV is playing low in the background, the volume almost completely mute. 

“Could you imagine if she saw how we dealt with that patient in chairs?”

“I think we would have to get the crash cart for her.”

He laughs again, and you both settle into silence. You want to talk more, you want to ask him if he feels this too– the pull to each other, like the moon and the tides. But you don’t know how far to push it. You want to do something about this crush, you don’t want to shove it down and let it get worse, and then really have to go back to day shift. But, you’re unsure how Jack feels, if he thinks of you that way, or if he just thinks of you as a young lady, as he put it. 

After a while, when you’re almost drifting into a soft sleep, Jack speaks, “Hey, when that teen came in, and needed to be intubated, you didn’t start until I told you to, why?”

While Jack didn’t bullshit patients, he also didn’t bullshit you. He didn’t believe in biting his tongue, in letting things slide, if he wanted to know something; he asked.

“I don’t know, it’s complicated, and weird.” You didn’t want to admit the truth to yourself, much less to your boss.

“What’s complicated? You’ve done a million intubations. What stopped you?”

“Sometimes I feel, um–” You sneak a look at him and he’s already looking at you, his hands locked on top of his head. You notice his biceps bulging through the t-shirt he’s wearing, and it makes your throat feel dry. You reach for the beer, and take a long sip, needing some liquid courage. “Sometimes, I feel like I can’t do something unless there’s someone guiding me through it. I think that’s why I like learning from you so much. You’re always right behind me, telling me what to do. I know that I know how to intubate, but I’m used to being— told by you, I guess.”

He nods, a signal for you to keep talking. You’re sitting criss-cross now, body facing him. You stare straight down at your hands, twisting your fingers together in anxiousness. 

“I just like to be guided sometimes. Maybe that makes me a bad EM specialist.” You leave out the part where Jack is really the only person you want to tell you what to do. If anyone else had told you to intubate when it was obvious to, you would’ve shot daggers through them. You feel the sudden urge to defend yourself, “I would know what to do if you weren’t there, I really would.”

“I know, that’s why it shocked me that you didn’t start.” Jack says, sitting forward a bit, “It doesn’t make you a bad EM specialist. You’re only in the second year of your residency anyway, you shouldn’t be doing everything by yourself.”

You nod, trusting what he says. “Is that weird?”

“No,” he says, and you swear you see his jaw tick. “No, it’s normal to want to be guided.”

“You’re very good at it.” you blurt out. “At guiding– teaching. I always just want to follow your lead, and do what you tell me.” You laugh; shake your head. “Sorry, I think I’m being weird. Maybe it’s the full moon.”

“Not weird, kid. I’d tell you if it was.” Jack gets up from the recliner and comes and sits next to you. “Can I ask you something else?”

You nod, and he doesn’t talk. He lowers his head so you can see him out of the top of your eyelids. You realize he wants you to look at him, so you do. “It’s your turn to tell me if I’m being weird, okay?”

You don’t move a muscle. Like you might scare him away.

“Does that translate to anywhere else in your life?”

“How do you mean?” You think you know, but you want to be sure.

He tilts his head in a quick flick, like he thinks you’re being obtuse on purpose. “In your personal life, y’like to be told what to do? Like to be— guided?”

“I think.” your voice is as low as the television. “I’ve never really done it, though. Never done it, like that, I mean.”

“You’ve never done it?” He has a small smirk on his face.

You groan and dramatically fall back on the couch, hands covering your face. “Yes, Dr. Abbot, I have done it.” You say, muffled, from the palms pressing into your mouth. 

You sit back up. “Just not in the way you’re asking.” 

“Yeah, because the people you’ve been with don’t know jack shit. I clocked it the first time we worked together, during PittFest.”

“I am not that easy to read.” You say it like it’s a fact.

“I hate to break it to you, honey, but you are.” He places a hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing deep circles, and you think you might combust right there, on his couch. “You followed me the whole night. Not a bad thing, it was nice knowing you were right there, ready to follow, to assist.” 

His words are going in one ear and out the other, all you can focus on is his hand on you. 

“Hey, you with me?” He inquires; reading you again. “I want to make sure this is okay, I can stop right now, and we can act like it never happened, okay?” 

“Yes, it’s okay. More than okay.” You nod, locking eyes with him, so he knows.

“I want to treat you right. I want to turn your brain off, so you aren’t thinking about anything but me. Following my orders, doing exactly what I say. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” 

That’s all it takes for Jack to kiss you. 

He isn’t gentle with it. He kisses you hard, like he’s been waiting years to do it, despite only knowing you for a few months. You have trouble catching up at first. It’s true what you told him, that no one else seems to know how to treat you. It’s not that your other partners were necessarily bad, they just couldn’t read you like Jack can. No one else is able to.

He pushes you gently back onto the couch until you lay flat. His chest presses against yours and it’s comforting, like a weighted blanket. You try not to wriggle your hips too much, not wanting to jump too far ahead, but you can’t help yourself, they press up into his growing bulge and he groans into your mouth. He winds down on you quickly to meet you halfway, the lower halves of your bodies mold together. The friction it’s creating makes you think you could come just like this. It’s all so hot. There’s no other way to describe it. 

Jack groans again, this time in dissatisfaction. His hand comes down fast between your bodies to press you back into the couch, his thumb digs into the spot of skin right next to your hip and you whine, the pressure sending a wave of arousal through your body.

“Not yet, honey.” His tone of voice is a lot kinder than the cruel hand pressing you down.

You feel like you’re in a club with the way your heart is thumping, you can’t help but count the beats of it, taking your own pulse into account. Jack moves away from your mouth to your neck, sloppily trailing kisses all the way down. You can’t believe that you were so close to sleep a few minutes ago, now you feel like you’re running a marathon. 

He gets off of you, fully stands up. You’re out of breath, you try to make a noise of protest but nothing comes out, you stare at the ceiling for a second until he clears his throat.

“Are you sure–”

You jerk your head to look at him, “If you ask me if I want it again, I’m gonna scream.” Jack lets out a low laugh. “I’m just regaining my sanity.” you express.

“The whole point of this is you won’t have any sanity left. C’mon, let’s go to the bedroom.”

You stand and follow him back, you realize you’ve never seen his bedroom until now, and it’s the same as the rest of the apartment. Plain, minimalistic. He has black sheets with a white comforter, and his bed is made perfectly, probably a habit from serving.

You stand awkwardly in front of the bed, twisting your hands in front of you.

“Nervous?” 

You hum in response, keeping your eyes on him.

“You know me, it’s the same as working. Just follow me, do what I tell you, yeah? Just be a good girl.”

The praise goes straight to your legs and you feel your knees wobble a bit.

“Take this off for me.” He tugs on your shirt, “And these too, while you’re at it.” He puts his pointer finger into the top of your pants and swipes in across your stomach, the digit edging on the top of your underwear. If you knew this was going to happen, you might’ve tried to wear better undergarments, but this felt better, in a way; more natural. You knew you didn’t have to play it up for Jack. It was nice that he didn’t need all the fuss, he just needed you.

Obviously, you do what he says, stripping the shirt and pants off. You take your bra off too, letting it fall onto his floor. He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head at the sight of your chest. “So beautiful.” Jack says, mostly to himself.

He walks towards you, until his body is pushing you back onto the bed. You sit instead of lay down, eyes staring straight into Jack’s. Sometimes his eye contact intimidated you, but not today, you wanted to catch every slight movement, every small inclination of what to do. His eyes shoot up to the top of the bed and then back at you, and you move yourself up until your head rests on his pillows. You feel loose, like your body has water running through your veins instead of blood. You feel like your limbs have connected to Jack’s mind, ready to do whatever he asks. Your brain feels a bit fuzzy, and all you register is that he’s climbed on top of you again, his eyes staring holes into yours. His shirt is off now, but he keeps his pants on. The vein on his bicep is prominent and it makes your mouth water. 

He places his hands on the sides of your head. His lips ghost over yours, but he pulls away when you reach up to catch them. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you like this. I see how you are with Shen instead of me, how cocky you are, how independent you are. But anytime we’re on a case together, I know you’ll follow my lead. It’s not just about guiding, huh? It’s about me.”

You swallow harshly, knowing he’s right. Knowing that you’re independent when he’s not the one in charge of you. 

“It drives me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Knowing that you only get this docile for me.” One of his hands starts trailing down your body, tracing your curves before it flows to the middle of your stomach. He rests his palm right on top of where you need him most, pressing gently. Your brows furrow, and he smirks. 

He pulls your underwear off with one hand, and you lift your hips to help him. Once they're off, he slips a finger through your folds, feeling the wetness. He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head, eyes still locked to yours.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard that there won’t be anything on your brain after, okay?”

“With your fingers?”

“Is that doubt I hear?”

“No!” You protest. “Sorry, just— usually people care about themselves.”

“I’m not like other people, baby.” He makes a ‘tick’ noise with his tongue. “Thought I made that clear.”

That’s the last thing you hear before he stuffs two fingers in you. His mouth falls open at the same time that yours does. You throw your head back in pleasure, and your hand flies up to grip his arm. Your body writhes below you, like you’re chasing his fingers, making sure they won't stop.

“There you go, just like that.” he says, low, into your ear. “Tell me what you like about this. About us.”

You moan, trying to push out the words through the noises that involuntarily leave your mouth. “I like that you know I want you to take control. I like that you’ll always go to the diner with me, or let me come over when I have a bad shift, even when I can tell you want to be alone.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“I like that you call me sweetheart. Even before this, it’s always made me–god– always made me mad when other people did it. But it’s not condescending from you. I like how you look out for me at work. You can tell when I need a break before I do. I like how your fingers feel inside of me. I like when you take control.”

You pant, the ramblings taking the air out of you. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your leg and it makes you feel even hotter. Your orgasm is creeping up on you, your stomach tightening into a coil before you know it.

Jack moves quickly, so that he’s sitting on his knees. You wonder briefly if it hurts him to sit like that, but the thought leaves your brain when he brings his other hand onto your clit.

“Jesus Christ, Oh—”

“Not him, all me.” Jack says, cockily. You huff out a laugh before it’s taken over by another moan.

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

“Yes, please Jack.”

“God, you sound so good moaning my name. You’re fucking perfect.”

He picks up the pace, and you can feel the pressure building up behind your clit, your all familiar tell that you’re about to finish.

“Please, I need to come, please.”

“Asking so nicely. Of course you can, Go ahead.”

You preen; zero in on the feeling of your orgasm and let it wash over you. 

“There y’go. Yeah, just like that.” His words barely register in your head. 

It takes you a while to come back down, your brain still a bit fuzzy when you do.

“Good?” Jack asks once you’ve regained your breathing.

“Good.” You answer.

He makes you go to the bathroom before you get too comfortable in bed.

When you lay back down, your head falls harshly on the pillows, your body bouncing the bed lightly. He moves up next to you so that his head is on the headboard. He’s stripped out of his pants now, just his boxers on. He took the prosthetic limb off too, so that he could be more comfortable. He opens his arm and you scoot over to lay your head on his chest. He kisses your forehead, in a soft way. In a way that tells you this will happen again, that it wasn’t a fluke.

“Another question.” He says, softly, just loud enough to stir you from the sleep that was trying to take over your body again.

“Mm?” you reply.

“How long have you felt this way?”

“I think I always have, but last night was the first time that it was really obvious to me. You?”

“Yeah, same, actually. It was always in the back of my head but, wasn’t sure how to make it real until today.”

“Must’ve been that full moon.” you say, groggily.

He pets your head and laughs, “Yeah, must’ve.”

[sharksbitee]

CAUSE IT’S NOT ROMANTIC, I SWEAR! Featuring some of the NRC boys deep in denial!

Who is absolutely in the trenches of teasing from his friends, because what do you mean he’s in love? Adamantly protesting the thought though he’s already chest-deep that is the swamp called unrequited love for you, shaking his head and refusing to admit to any romantic feelings whatsoever, despite the suspiciously fuzzy feeling in his chest every time you’re near - nerves! It’s just nerves!

Who, no, absolutely does not have his head in the clouds! Sure, maybe he’d recently been a little more absent-minded lately (holding hands with you sounded so nice… in a totally platonic way, of course!), maybe he had been snickering to himself (you had just been so cute to stare look at today - in a completely friendly way, haha…), maybe he did flush whenever he met your eyes recently(Weather. It was definitely the weather), but it was fineeeeeeeee. After all, he didn’t see you that way… right?

Who was beginning to think that his feelings may have not been completely entirely platonic anymore, after the dreams that had been plaguing his mind for the past few nights. They all started off normal, with you inviting him out for a date - a friend’s date, obviously, which he had immediately agreed to - and everything seemed to be going well. You laughed at all of his dumb jokes, you had lunch, then dinner with him, then you… kissed him goodbye. But they were just dreams! Totally! Yeah, just dreams totally not representative of his inner wants, of course…

Who was starting to avoid you, because, Oh Seven, his friends were right, he did have a massive crush on you, shit shit shit shit shit, where was he supposed to go from now?

Who is now walking around like a kicked puppy because there was zero chance you’d actually like him back - you’re so… you, and he was just some random lovesick loser. In a school of eligible male suitors who are practically pulled out of a dating sim, he’s nothing more than the bottom of the barrel. :(

Who had accepted his fate and opted for simply being close enough to you to be able to bask in your presence. (And also scaring off potential suitors.) But hey - he’s been your friend for far too long for you to get suspicious anyway, so might as well use this situation to his advantage. ;)

FEATURING…

ACE TRAPPOLA, Deuce Spade, Epel Felmier, IDIA SHROUD, and your favourites! :)

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

A PLEASANT INCONVENIENCE.

bob reyonds x implied fem!reader

wc. 827 synopsis. your cat likes to run out of your apartment when you return home. today she makes it further than usual but is luckily stopped by a stranger. // had a teeny tiny, small and shit idea so wanted to write it. he's not living in the compound in this and idk the logistics. its fanfic, it doesn't have to canonically make sense

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Fairly often you’d find yourself chasing after your escapee, your cat always seeming to dart out of your apartment at the most inconvenient times.

Like now. 

You’re standing outside your apartment, a collection of grocery bags and packages and cat food boxes by your feet as you jam your keys into the door — opening it slowly so as not to hit your cat in the face. Past experiences teaching you that was her favourite spot to sit; to sit and wait so that she could squeeze past and dart out the door.

Though today, you don’t see her face between the gap like you often do, and you mistakenly believe she’s given up trying. So with that thought in mind, you open your door fully to take your bags inside, kicking in your packages to speeden the process. But you’re far too slow. 

She speeds out of your apartment, darting down the corridor like she’s planned the escape route for some time — skillfully outrunning you. Up ahead you hear the elevator ding open and your heart drops, worry setting in that she’s about to be gone forever. 

You round the corner and see a man holding her, his cup and prescription bag dropped to the floor, strawberry milkshake spilling onto the worn carpet. 

“Oh my gosh,” you pant, hand holding your heart as you walk closer. “Thank you for catching her,” your arms extend towards your cat, silently asking to take her back.

He smiles briefly, eyes diverting away tentatively. “It’s not a problem,” the stranger chuckles in a friendly manner and passes your cat to you — stroking over her back as if he couldn’t resist one last touch. “What’s her name?”

“Shelly,” you smile, giving her a quick cuddle.

“Shelly— tortoiseshell— tortoise,” he grins lazily. “That’s clever.”

Your smile widens as you nod. “You know your cats.”

“Yeah, well,” he chuckles softly as he bends, picking up his things from the floor. “I get cats, they get me.”

It’s always a good sign when men like cats.

You look down to the floor, noticing the small patch of soft pink on the floor. “I’m really sorry about your drink, can I pay you back?”

“Oh,” he looks down at the leak and back up to you. “No, no. Don't worry about it. It’s nearly finished anyway.”

“Okay,” you smile and nod a singular time. “I left my door open, so I should really get back. Thank you again for catching her.”

He stands awkwardly in place, his body language confusing. It looked like he was eager to get away yet still somehow stick around so you can continue chatting. 

And you felt that way also. He was nice to talk to. Though you’d just have to hope you’d bump into him again soon, you weren’t so keen on keeping your apartment door open for the whole of New York.

“Anytime,” he mirrors your prior response, an expression quite similar to your own. “I’m Bob.”

You return by sharing your name, being met with yet another smile. “Do you live on this floor…or?” you ask, subtly happening upon the reason for his visit.

“I uh, yeah I do,” he points up ahead, gesturing to the way you just came. “Just round that corner, actually.”

“Oh?” you hum, head cocking at him. 

You slowly turn on your heel, silently pivoting as if you wanted to continue chatting on the move. He follows suit, leisure footsteps to match yours — both walking slower than usual like you were trying to elongate the conversation. 

“I haven't seen you around before,” you state and meet his eyes briefly, each of you only lasting a second before you both have to turn away.

“Well,” Bob chuckles. “I usually just stick to my apartment,” he looks down at his feet and then up to you, looking at the side of your face.

You feel the weight of his eyes on you and you twist to meet his gaze, but it falls again, diverting away. And so you smile downwards, looking bashfully at your cat in hand.

“Do you not like the city?” you ask, eager to keep the conversation rolling.

“I like it,” he nods, eyes casting down as he reaches into his pocket for his keys. “Just enjoy the quiet sometimes.”

You found yourself wishing for your apartment to be on another floor. To be able to chat with Bob a little more, but you reach your apartment, and it seems he does too. 

You step towards your door and turn to look at him again, finally meeting one's eyes. 

“See you around?” he gingerly questions, hesitant tone making him sound insecure in the belief that you’d meet again. 

“I’d love that.”

Bob nods, a small, earnest smile forming as he sticks his keys into the door beside yours, his apartment proving to be far closer than you anticipated. Never did you think such a pleasant encounter could come from such an inconvenience.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[coldfanbou]

Girlfriend Experience

In honor of Jeewon being so hot, I made a fic for her....based in my Tinkerbell AU. She provides a great and close experience.

Length 4.2K

Jeewon X Mreader

Up early in the morning, Jeewon got out of her bed and stretched, raising her arms high above her head and tensing her body before releasing it all. “Woo, what to do, what to do?” She said to herself, walking toward her kitchen. She wouldn’t need to head into work for six hours or so. She had all the time in the world. Jeewon pursed her lips as she stepped out into her living room. Scattered across the ground were a bunch of empty boxes, the tape that once kept them shut barely clinging to them. She knew she should clean it. No one ever came by, but she still needed a tidy home. 

So with a deep breath, Jeewon began gathering the empty boxes, flattening them out, and organizing them into a pile she could throw away when she was done. Box by box, the area became cleaner. She was about to finish up when a call came through. Jeewon patted her legs, realizing she wasn’t there. She further realized she wasn’t even wearing bottoms; she was just in her panties and an oversized sweatshirt. She scurried back to her room, grabbing her phone before the last ring managed to end, “Hello?”

“Good Morning, Jeewon. It’s Jinsoo from Tinkerbell.”

“Oh, hi Jinsoo! How are you? Did you enjoy the food I made at the company party?”

“I-oh, um, yes. You made some great mandoo. Anyway, I called you to talk about a reservation that’s been made for tonight.”

“Oh, okay! What time?”

“An hour after your shift starts.”

“So-”

“7 pm.” 

“Thanks, Jinsoo. I’ll make sure to bring you something when I get there.”

“You really don't-” Jeewon Jung jumped up before Jinsoo could finish his sentence. 

“7 pm.” Jeewon thought to herself. She had about eleven hours all to herself. She could do whatever she wanted to for that time. The young lady sat on her bed, kicking her feet as she considered what she would do for all that time. “Maybe I’ll finish cleaning up and go shopping.” Jeewon grabbed her phone and headed back to the living room. She finished flattening the boxes she had before grabbing the pile and walking toward the door, before she realized she was still in the clothes she slept in, and the lack of clothes would bring unwanted attention to her. Jeewon puffed her cheeks, annoyed she would have to wait to throw it all away. “It’s okay. I’ll just toss it when I leave.” She huffed. 

Jeewon got through her morning routine before finally heading out. She grabbed the pile of boxes, dragging them to the dumpster as best she could.

“Jeewon!” a voice called out. Hold up, let me help you.” Turning to the voice, Jeewon saw her friend Anna. The young woman took half of the flattened boxes and walked beside Jeewon as they went to the dumpster. 

“Thank you, Anna.”

“It’s no problem. I’m happy I could help my unnie.” The girls smiled at each other, giggling slightly. “Do you have any plans today?” 

“I’m going to work tonight. After this, I was going to go window shopping. I’ve been looking for more lingerie or something new to wear.” Anna nodded, her eyes moving downward toward her big sister’s chest. “Anna!” Jeewon shouts playfully, pushing her coworker. 

Anna giggles as she stumbles. “You’re the one with the big boobs, unnie. It’s hard not to stare.” Jeewon smiles at Anna. Anna returns the smile, hooking her arm around Jeewon while pressing the flat boxes against her side. The older woman was something like a sister to her.  Jeewon had guided her through her first days at Tinkerbell. “Are you going to be busy tonight?” 

“Mmm, I already have a reservation, so maybe.” The pair dump the boxes into the dumpster, wiping their hands clean of the task. “I hope I get a few more customers.”

“You’re style is catching on, you know.” 

“My style?” Jeewon asked, looking down at her clothes. 

“Not that style!” Anna whined, “I meant I work.  A few others have started doing your girlfriend experience style.” When Anna saw Jeewon tilt her head, she huffed. “You know the way you take care of your customers, you walk out to greet them, and you act super cutesy.” Jeewon held a blank expression, rubbing the back of her head. She didn’t know the others hadn’t been doing that. She thought everyone did. “Unnie…”

“I thought everyone did it!” Jeewon shouts, covering her face. “I was told by one of my unnies to do that.” 

“I think they might’ve been joking,” Anna replies, patting the older woman’s back. “But it’s working, you’ve been getting more guys lately. I’ve seen your numbers. Just keep doing you. It suits you, you’re always so cheerful.”

“It’s a little embarrassing now,” Jeewon says, uncovering her face. 

“You’ll be fine,” Anna responds, patting Jeewon’s back again. “I’ll see you after work. Bye, unnie.”

“Bye,” Jeewon said, a little dejected after finding out the way she was acting wasn’t the standard. She kicked a small rock and puffed her cheeks. Her annoyance didn’t last long; within a minute, she chuckled. “Ahh,” She groaned. “I guess it’s not the worst thing.” Jeewon adjusted the bag on her shoulder and began walking toward the train station.

She sat quietly on the train, flicking through her phone as the train bustled through the city. Slight bumps caused her chest to bounce, making her adjust her top. It irked her. Jeewon regretted wearing a tube top. She loved the feeling of not having straps on her shoulders, but it was always trouble to keep it up. Maybe she would buy another top when she got off. 

Slowly, the train came to a stop, and Jeewon got off, moving through the station and getting out onto the city streets. She made her way over to the clothing stores. Jeewon’s first move was to get in and buy another shirt. She was getting sicker of hers by the minute. It didn’t take her long; she stepped into a random store and bought the first shirt she saw. It was a long-sleeved striped shirt. Jeewon stepped into the dressing room, tossing hers off and putting the other on, ripping off the tag so she could wear it comfortably. She might not have a bra on under it, but at the very least, no one would be able to see her if an accident were to happen. 

Jeewon opened the dressing room door, jumping back upon seeing someone on the other side. It was a woman who got just as scared as Jeewon. Looking more closely at her, Jeewon recognized her: “Ah, Eunha! What are you doing here?” The person whom she had scared and vice versa was her friend from Tinkerbell. 

“Oh, it’s you, Jeewon,” Eunha said, bending over as she recovered from her scare. “I was here looking at clothes with my boyfriend. You scared the hell out of me.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be on the other side. I was just buying a different shirt; the one that I was wearing wasn’t holding up the best.”  

“Ah,” Eunha nods, her eyes moving downward to her junior’s chest. “I can see how that would be a problem. Oh, there’s something I needed to tell you.” Eunha says, pursing her lips as her memory fails her. She tries to recall it, and eventually the lightbulb goes off in her head. “That’s it, I was wondering if you could be my partner for the games we’ll be having in a couple of weeks.” 

“The games? Oh, that, sure, I’d be happy to be your partner.” It took her a moment, but she remembered. It was nearing the time Tinkerbell would have an in-house competition to see which team could get the highest sales in a week. “Do you think we have a chance at winning?”

“Mmm, maybe. It can be hard to tell.” Eunha responded before turning her head toward a voice. “Ah, I have to go. Have a good day, Jeewon!” Eunha waved to her junior before leaving. Jeewon watched her walk away to her boyfriend before heading to the counter and paying for her new shirt. 

The next stop for Jeewon would be the lingerie store. It was a short walk away, and once inside, Jeewon looked for anything she could use. Most designs were things she already had, such as cupless bras and crotchless panties. It made for easy access, and with her breasts, the cupless look always drove people crazy. Today, she wanted something a little different. Though as much as she looked, nothing really interested her. Jeewon went back and forth looking through every little piece of cloth and ended up with nothing. She had used up quite a bit of time, though. Checking her watch, it was 2 pm. There was still some time left, so Jeewon spent it getting some lunch and then heading to the shop. 

She stepped inside and walked down the hall. “Hello! It’s Jeewon!” She chirped, her steps leading her to the lobby. “I guess everyone’s busy cleaning.” Jeewon puffed her cheeks, looking around the room. With no one around, she moved on, heading behind the front desk and descending the stairs to get to the dressing room. She got to her locker and sat down, stretching her back before looking through her clothes. Jeewon was in a cutesy mood for today's outfit and chose a fluffy oversized sweater as her top. Under it, she would only be wearing a lacy pair of panties. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled, happy with her appearance. Checking her watch again, she saw there were still a couple of hours until Tinkerbell opened. She’d just have to wait. There was a perfectly good bed for her to sleep in, though. Jeewon traveled back up the stairs and to her room. Passing the lobby, she signed herself in so they would know she was here. Then she went up one floor to her room. It was the closest to the staircase, which gave her the position to welcome customers.

She opened her door and lay on the bed. She rested her eyes for a moment, accidentally falling asleep. What woke the young woman up was a phone call on the room's phone. She stood up quickly, stumbling toward it. “Hello?”

“Jeewon, your reservation has arrived.”

“Ah, okay. Send them up.” Jeewon said before hanging up.  Jeewon rubs her eyes and pats down her sweater. She opens the door, peering outside when she sees your shadow heading up the stairs. Jeewon opens the door further, stepping out into the hallway and smiling at you. You can’t help but return the gesture. Jeewon’s smile was pure; she wasn’t just putting it on for the sake of it. It was a genuine smile. She waddled over to you, her hand reaching out for yours. “Hello! I’m Jeewon.” She took your hands in hers, cupping them. “I hope we have a lot of fun today.” You nod, a little stunned at her forwardness. “Good,” she says, getting by your side and hooking her arm around yours before laying her head on your shoulder. 

You blushed. The girls were nice, but Jeewon was a little different. It felt like she was your girlfriend with the way she was acting. You glance at the young woman as she guides you to the room. She feels your stare and turns her head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “You're blushing,” she says softly, pulling your arm toward her. You feel her soft breasts against your arm and turn away from her. You hear Jeewon giggle at your actions. 

Moving past the door, Jeewon closes it with her foot before settling on the bed with you. “How was your day? Did you work?”

“I-uh, I did work for a little bit.” You answer, a little taken aback, that was asking you that question. “I helped build some furniture today.”

“Oh, you must be a little tired. Here, let me massage you.” Jeewon presses herself against you, pushing you onto your front. You didn’t get a choice in the matter, not that you would stop her. Jeewon’s voice was sincere as far as you could tell. “Can you take off your shirt?” 

“Sure,” you respond, taking your shirt off and tossing it to the side. You feel Jeewon’s hands on your upper back, they were a bit cold and made you shiver. 

It makes her laugh, “Sorry, I know I have cold hands. Everyone says so.” Jeewon moves her hands to your shoulders, her hands gripping your tight muscles. “You’re so tense. You really need this.” She giggles, her hands squeezing your flesh. It felt surprisingly good. Jeewon was focusing her energy on this. The young woman wanted you to be relaxed when you took her, so she worked hard to massage your stress away. Her hands moved from your shoulders to your back, and there was a brief pause before she continued, working it over until she felt satisfied with the feel of it. “There we go. You’re feeling a lot looser. How do you feel?”

“That felt pretty good, actually.” You say turning over. “You have some great…” Your words trail off as you see Jeewon’s bare breasts, the pale, heavy mounds inches away from you.

Jeewon exhales, “Thanks. I’ve had some practice.” She smiles at you, holding back a laugh while you stare at her chest. “Do you like them?” You nod, gulping as you take in their size. “That makes me happy. I’ve relaxed you in one way, now we can get to what you really want.” The mischievous smile she had made her intentions clear. The young woman snaked her hand into your pants, rubbing your bulge through your underwear. “Can you help me get these off you?” You immediately accept her request, fumbling with your pants as you try to get them off quickly. Jeewon laughs at you as you scramble. As soon as you manage to kick them off you feel her press her body against your back, her soft nipples run along your back as she snakes her hand around you and onto your cock. “Thank you, sweetie.” She whispers, her hand gently moving along your shaft, stopping just below the head.

You grunt, enjoying the feeling of her soft digits wrapped around you. “You had a long and hard day. Let me take all that stress and push it out.” Jeewon stopped at the top of your shaft and placed her thumb over the tip, making small circles. You moan, the sensation was incredible. Precum dribbled from your cock as she continued. “Don’t hold anything back. We have plenty of time.” The young woman’s whispers fueled your lust. “Lie back, I want you to play with something.” You follow her orders, laying your head on her lap. Jeewon brings her chest down to your face. “You can play with these while I help you out.” 

You open your mouth taking one of her heavy tits into your mouth. Your tongue brushes against her soft nipple, flicking it back and forth as you gently suck on her tit. Jeewon lets out a soft coo, pausing her hand job momentarily. “Oh, you’re so eager today.” The young woman tightens her grip slightly and continues moving her hand along your shaft, your precum coating your cock as she spreads it across your shaft. You moan, and reach for her other tit, squeezing the soft piece of flesh. It was almost like a pillow. It felt great in your hand and your mouth. 

Your tongue continued to flick Jeewon’s nipple; the small nub began hardening as you did. Switching your action, you swirled your tongue around her nipple, flicking it on occasion and without warning. Jeewon moaned softly, enjoying the way your warm tongue played with her. She began speeding up her handjob as a result, her hand squeezing you tightly. You let go of her tits, moaning her name as you got close to your climax. 

Hearing this, Jeewon slowed down and pat your head. “I don’t want to waste this. Let’s switch to something else.” You lift your head and watch as Jeewon gets between your legs, raising your lower body so she could place your cock right between her tits. You feel the soft and smooth masses on either side of you. You watch as Jeewon presses them together, your cock disappearing between the heavy mounds, wrapped snuggly between them. The young woman begins moving them along your cock, your precum working as lube and making them slick. You moan Jeewon’s name, her soft tits were bringing you to your climax. 

“Jeewon, I’m cumming,” you groan, gripping the sheets as she continues to pump your cock. 

“Let it all out. Cum all over these big fat tits.” It was the first time you heard Jeewon speak like that. It was different from just a moment ago. Still, it pushed you over the edge; you imagined them covered in your semen, and in the next second, you were doing just that. You coated her tits in a thick layer of sticky cum, moaning the entire time as Jeewon coaxed more out of you as you came. You breathe heavily as you come down from your climax. 

Jeewon smiles at you, chuckling as she sees your tired expression. “Did that help you cum?”

You nod, “Y-yeah, yeah it did.”

Jeewon giggles again, pulling your cock out from between her tits. You stare at the slick mounds, they were a beautiful mess. Jeewon glances at them, “You really came a lot.” She scoops some of the semen on her chest, stretching it into thin strands when she spreads her fingers before bringing it to her lips and sucking them clean. “Ahh, it tastes good too.”

The young  woman bends down, “Excuse me!” She chirps, opening her mouth wide, her lips wrapping around your cock. Jeewon swallows your cock, her lips gliding down your shaft until she reaches the base. You nearly cum again from the act. Her warm tongue moves along your shaft, side to side teasingly as she pulls back. The young woman’s lips form a seal, dragging your cum along with her as she pulls back. You shiver, the pleasurable sensation becoming too much. Jeewon pauses, though, feeling your cock throb in her mouth. Once you calm down, she begins again, reaching the tip. She presses her lips against the tip, kissing it as she leaves. Jeewon opens her mouth, opening it so you see how full of cum it is. A white puddle sits on her tongue while other parts rest at the bottom of her mouth. Jeewon tilts her head back, swallowing it all with glee before opening her mouth again. 

“There we go! Nice and clean.” You were on the verge of cumming again and then there was this woman who was acting as if she had just cleaned a room rather than your cock. You squirm as Jeewon grabs your shaft again. “Do you need a break?” She asks, her hand caressing your shaft. 

“N-no, I can keep going.” You groan, struggling to hold it together.

“Really, because it looks like you're about to blow,” Jeewon says with a playful smirk, her grip tightening slightly. “And your cock is throbbing so much.”

“Okay, maybe just a minute.” You admit.

Jeewon laughs, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” The young woman backs away from you, letting you lie on the bed to recover. You both sit in silence for a moment, your breathing being the main sound. “So, do you like singing?” Jeewon asks.

“Eh, sometimes. I’m not a good singer, so it’s mostly to myself. What about you?”

“I love it!” Jeewon exclaims, “Sometimes, me and some of the girls go and do karaoke. It’s so much fun. I don’t really have much time for it, though. The schedule we all work means we usually go home and crash. I’d love to go again sometime, " she says, kicking her feet.

“I can take you. I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing karaoke with you. It sounds like you really enjoy it.” You stumble over your words, drawn in by Jeewon’s sincerity. 

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“Well, maybe not today. I’m already feeling pretty drained.” The extra emphasis you add to the word drained makes Jeewon laugh, and you feel happy seeing that she got the joke. 

“We can plan something.” Jeewon turns her body toward, and places her hand on your softening cock. “Now, if you’ve got the energy to make jokes, I think you’re ready to go.” She guides your cock back to full mast and straddles you, placing your cock between her slick folds and your stomach.

Jeewon rocks back and forth, dragging her lips across your cock, soft moans escaping her lips. You reach up, cupping her breasts and shaking them. You watch them jiggle. “You really like them, don’t you?” 

“They’re amazing.” You make Jeewon blush. 

She brushes her hair to the side, “You can play with them all you’d like while I ride you.” Jeewon rises slowly, grabbing your cock and pressing the head against her entrance. She moved down slowly, her lips pushed apart as she took more in. You moan, reveling in the feeling of her tight cunt rubbing every inch of your cock. The moans grow stronger as Jeewon begins to move, rising a little before sinking much further. Each time she comes down she takes more of your cock in her until her pussy is pressed against your crotch. 

Jeewon takes a moment to rest before beginning her ride. She starts slow, bouncing rhythmically, taking every inch inside her body. Her moans fill the room, accompanied by the sound of her body colliding with yours. You let go of her tits, preferring to watch them bounce and jiggle as she moved. Instead, your hands moved downward, holding Jeewon’s ass and helping her move. You can’t help but squeeze her ass, it was soft yet firm and you wanted more. You began pulling her down onto cock as you thrust up, slamming yourself into her crotch. 

Jeewon cried out, moaning as she felt you take control. She leaned over you, taking your pounding, her tits swinging as you fucked her. You felt her nipples drag along your chest until she pressed them against you. Jeewon held onto you, accepting your powerful cock into her body. A tightness in her core began to form. The more you thrust into her slit the tighter it became, clamping down on your cock. “I’m-I’m cumming,” Jeewon moaned into your ear. 

“C-can I-“

“Yes! Do it, cum inside me.” Jeewon cried. It didn’t take more than that; your thrusts sped up, and your peak was about to be reached. As you both explode you bury yourself inside Jeewon’s tight snatch, your body shaking as you unleash wave after wave of cum into her awaiting cunt. Jeewon at the same time covers your cock in her slick, her orgasm rocking her. You both remain still, your bodies tense, slowly relaxing. Jeewon holds you tightly and you hold her, your hands shifting from her ass to lower back. “H-how was it?”

“Fantastic,” you groan, still struggling to breathe. 

“That makes me happy.” You both continue to lie there. Some time passes before Jeewon climbs off of you and lays beside you, your cum leaking out of her pussy. 

“We should take a shower while we have the time. I don’t want to leave you dirty.” 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You climb out of bed first, helping Jeewon walk over to the room’s shower.  You let her sit on the stool inside and turn on the water. 

The warm water feels nice on your skin, and it helps get rid of the fluids from your experience. You both help each other clean up, with you spending extra time on her breasts and her your cock. You’re nearly ready to fuck her then and there when you hear the phone ring. Jeewon stops the shower, wrapping a towel around herself before she answers. “Do you want an extension?” She shouts from the phone.

“No, I’ll be out in a minute.” You tell her.

Jeewon relays the information to the staff and hurries back to the shower. “Alright, let’s make sure you're nice and clean.”

“Like before?” You ask, referencing her earlier act.

Jeewon laughs and playfully slaps your chest. “Not this time, mister.”  Jeewon helps dry you off, and you help her. Once your clothes are back on, you’re ready to leave. Jeewon stops you just before you do. “Here’s my card. Come back again, and don’t forget about taking me out for karaoke. I’ll be really mad if you don’t.” She says, puffing her cheeks. 

You reach out and pinch one. “I won’t forget. In fact…” You pull out your phone and text Jeewon then and there, asking when she’s free. 

Jeewon smiles, “Alright, that’s good enough for now.”  Jeewon kisses you on the cheek and waves you off as you leave. The entire experience was amazing for you, and you feel the need to visit her again. You might not be willing to date someone in this industry, but you felt a connection with Jeewon. A friendship was always on the table.

[pencilofawesomeness]

Danny blamed the new environment for his forgetfulness. Getting used to university life was a lot, and getting used to Gotham was even more. Danny liked to think he handled it well, and Gotham with her perpetual musty ectoplasm grew on him quicker than he imagined, but he could only allocate so much brainpower to this stuff, and that meant that the passage of time evaded him, and so did his Death Day. Whoops.

Granted, he didn’t have the familiar ghosts of Amity clearing out in a polite gesture or even hovering nearby to help alleviate the symptoms. Death days were touchy subjects and private moments; it went unspoken not to heckle each other on those days. 

Nobody here knew his Death Day in advance, of course. Aside from this being his first year, he wasn’t part of the community yet, even though he was quickly becoming respected by reputation and might. (There weren’t even as many fully realized Realms ghosts around anyway.) However, when Danny ducked into an alley to ride out the phantom (ha) pains of being electrocuted for the fourth time in his life, halfway through he became distantly aware of another ectobeing hovering over him, solid and comforting hands on his shoulders. It must have been obvious to a spectral passerby what was happening. Back in Amity, or in the depths of the Realms, no stranger would approach without implicit permission, but etiquette was different in Gotham. He was still learning, but ghosts tended to be even more brazen—for good or bad. This one hadn’t done anything yet, so Danny doubted they would. He simply let it be and resolved to cringe over it later. 

With the realization he wasn’t alone, the delirium started to fade, slowly but surely. That was worse than the pain, in Danny’s opinion. The pain fucking sucked, and he hated the way his body spasmed, but he was used to all manner of injury. It wasn’t as jarring anymore. 

Danny heaved for breath, belatedly realizing he shot himself in the foot by having this episode in living form. What a fucking idiot. Granted, he was already an idiot for spending today anywhere but his bed. Or maybe in the Far Frozen. Ah, well, the worst of it was over and Danny would endeavor to do better next year. (And the next year. And the next. And the next.) That was all there was to it, now.

“I can’t believe I gotta go through that every year,” Danny bemoaned with a weak chuckle. His throat rasped. Had he screamed this year? Ancients he hoped not. He couldn’t decide if that would be more or less embarrassing in front of a stranger—although one who might be a neighbor. Gotham ghosts didn’t like wandering far from their haunt or person of interest, even though the city itself was one massive territory thanks to the city spirit. Okay, yeah, Danny settled on being embarrassed. 

His companion stiffened, pulling back as Danny tried to straighten himself, rubbing and blinking the annoying black spots from his eyes from the fake-electrocution. 

“Kid?” a tight, deep voice questioned. “You with me?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s over,” Danny assured. “Mine is at least quick.” He leaned back and finally got a good look at the guy who decided to keep him company. He reminded Danny a little of himself, tall and dark haired, except with broader shoulders. Very… solid broad shoulders…

Shit, wait. Was this guy alive?!

Danny miscalculated. Another gigantic L for today. Fantastic. 

“Sure, sure,” mysterious living guy muttered, before scrutinizing him with a crease of worry. “How many fingers am I holding up? What was the last thing you remember?”

“Three, and uh… I remember walking back here. Yeah.” What was he supposed to say? This was suddenly not a safe place, even though the guy didn’t seem predatory in the classic Gotham fashion. Just concerned. That almost made it worse, because Danny couldn’t bail on that. 

The man dragged a hand down his face with a ragged huff. “Shit, kid, I thought you were about to OD from heroin, or something, but you’re suddenly lucid. What the fuck was that? And don’t bother lying. No cops are going to be involved.” 

Oh. Ohhhhh. This guy must have seen Danny twitching and delirious. In a dirty alley. In Gotham. The least favorite part of Gotham for the living, in fact, called “Crime Alley” in a stunning display of creativity. Of course he must have thought it was something like that. 

If Danny was smart, he would roll with it. Maybe make up some BS about trying mushrooms for the first time and use it to skedaddle away. However, as established for the day, Danny was a fucking idiot, so instead he opened his big, unfiltered, idiotic mouth and blurted, “Overdosing looks like being electrocuted?”

“...what?”

Good job, Danny. “What?” he parroted dumbly. Now would be a good time to slide into the earth and become one with the Gunk of Gotham. 

Wait. Wait. He might be near the infamous ectoplasmic Sewer Slide but he hadn’t mistaken the pulse of a core, weak though it was. This guy was solid and breathing but he was ecto-tainted enough to be more than just tainted. He still very much was an ecto-being, surely, so Danny actually hadn’t messed up. As much.

While the guy was busy gaping at him incredulously, Danny scrutinized him back, reaching out with his core experimentally. A weak and sludgy thing pinged back, clearly surprising the guy. Okay, so that was a dirty, tiny core. Not a full one. The guy was more alive than Danny was, in the sense that his core was more of an accessory than a core. It was on the tip of his tongue. If Frostbite showed up right now with an ecto-being pop quiz, he would fail it right now. Though this had to be a rare one, in his defense. 

Well, whatever he was, the state of his ectoplasm was sad and rancid. Poor guy. 

“What are you even on right now?” said poor guy asked, leaning back with a sort of battle-ready wariness Danny recognized in a lot of Gothamites, spectre or not. However, his sad little core pulsed in time with Danny’s, hungry and desperate. Has he ever had any good ectoplasm? Sheesh. 

Unless. Maybe this guy was like those sad shades or blobs that got perpetually stuck in the Gunk and had rotten cores for it. This guy didn’t seem too far gone though. Or like he was unable to physically leave the Sewer Slide. Still, he clearly had to ask for a reason. 

Ah, fuck it. Even if Danny wanted to crawl under his covers and still his jittery nerves, he couldn’t leave this guy hanging. Especially after he tried to help Danny, despite being very wrong about it. 

“I can get you to some ectoplasm,” Danny promised. “The good stuff. It’ll take some time, but it’ll fix all… that.” He smiled in good humor, gesturing vaguely to his core. “And your earlier offer extends to me as well. No cops involved. As you can tell now, I’m more like you than you think.” He paused awkwardly. “And definitely not overdosing on anything. But thanks for checking.”

The guy—a revenant, maybe, or some other undead or something—narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Carefully. Well, if he thought there was a catch—or if he could eat Danny—then he was sorely mistaken. Danny understood what it was like to be a clueless baby ecto-being, so he wouldn’t mess around with this, coming down from a death echo or not. 

“Sure,” the guy finally said. “Show me where you got this… ectoplasm.”

DpxDc #17

What a (death) day.

Jason was going to kill whoever was selling drugs to kids in the alley.

The boy on the ground was shaking, barely breathing, and coughing up blood. The poor guy was coming down from a seizure, almost suffocating on his own spit.

Luckily, Jason saw him on time and was able to help put him in a safe position. He almost had a heart attack seeing a kid having an overdose in a lonely alley.

He rubbed the kid's back, trying to stimulate breathing, begging internally for his heart to keep beating.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

The black-haired teenager kept mumbling between breaths, muscles twitching like a dying bug.

Jason could only try and help as much as he could. He wasn't going to call an ambulance, since unfortunately, there was a high chance that his call was going to be rejected due to the location and nature of the emergency.

Drug overdose was too common; they would tell you to make sure they don't choke and hang up on you.

"I'm sorry..."

"Shh... It's alright, you're going to be okay..."

.

.

.

What a shitty, shitty day.

It hit him like a truck, the pain in his chest.

He was just walking back to his hotel room after visiting Gotham University, when it started.

Danny compleatly fucking forgot about his death day.

He was able to drag himself into an empty alley, trying not to die of embarrassment as he was starting to feel his arm tingle.

This was going to suck.

[applejusue]

Imposter Syndrome ── Ellie Williams ౨ৎ˚₊

tldr; immunity is a blessing, but infections adapt cw: dissociation, intrusiveness, grief, angst, violence, sexual themes, comfort, love, slow-burn, illness, blood, gore descriptions, mature themes w/c: 13.2k

a/n: I put a lot of love into this one, and I kind of want to do more of this longer styled writing. I still want to feed everyone though, so please do send requests that I can fill in between bigger works like this ♡ Let me know what you think!

Prologue;

Seattle wasn't so bad, even if nobody knew her name. Ellie tried to blend in with them, keeping her head low. After giving up on the hunt for Abby, she found herself at a loss for moving forward. Without another home to go to, Ellie made one herself here. A dingy one-bedroom apartment just off road of the main street. The place was small, but it was cheap. Walls so thin she could hear her upstairs neighbors fucking most nights. Ellie was exhausted lately; sleep a valuable commodity these days and not just because of the noise. She just never felt safe, no matter how many locks she put on that door.

The migraines had started not long after moving in, a skull-splitting ache that no amount of painkillers seemed to fix. She'd taken to turning off the lights and burrowing her face between two stained pillows. It helped, sometimes. When Ellie lay there, teary-eyed and not a soul there to encompass her, it felt like a rotting tooth that refused to fall out. She'd made this bed when she left that farm, thinking that if she took Abby's life, it would make her feel whole again. She wasn't angry anymore; that's what she told herself, at least. She still thought about how it felt to hold Abby beneath the harsh current, even if it made her feel sick to the stomach.

The thoughts never seemed to leave, especially with the influx of headaches. Her dark eyes would linger on the dusty carpet, consumed by how things could've been. Would she have felt better? If Abby's warm blood had coated her hands. Joel would've done it. She shuddered. She still carried that resentment, that bitterness at the lies she still didn't fully understand. There was so much about him that she didn't know, that she'd never know now. He was dead, and she was still alive. She hadn't figured out yet what that meant to her.

Still, she wanted to fit in, to go to the store and get groceries even when it felt like the whole world was staring. Her crooked fingers would twitch in the milk aisle, the screeching of the rusted trolley wheel irritating her to no end. It felt like her arms were too long for her body, did people notice? Maybe it was her wrinkled clothes or her marred cheek. She filled the cart with stuff that didn't take half a brain to cook. Instant noodles, pre-made burgers, beer. Ellie managed to afford these luxuries with a small part-time gig she'd picked up for the council. It was sort of like volunteering, fixing up the rougher areas of the city or delivering supplies to shelters. 'A better Seattle'. That's what the contractors seemed to think anyway.

Ellie couldn't give a damn, as long as she got a crumb of conversation and a way to put her hands to use. The truth was she'd gotten worse at speaking lately; maybe it was the way she'd locked herself away from people or the fact that her thoughts were too loud. Still, she often stumbled over her words, her brow twitching in mild irritation whenever she couldn't spit out a simple sentence. The workers didn't care, they were just people like her with no family or friends to compare her to. It was grounding to crack a cold beer on site with them, nobody ever talking about much in particular.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

Ellie was reading over her list of duties, sometimes it was relatively few. Today it seemed she had to head downtown to the foster center to fix a broken heating unit. She felt a dampened sense of unease at the idea, her own time in the system not exactly pleasant. She shoved the sheet down into her backpack along with her toolkit, slinging her lanyard around her neck. The breeze bit at her ears as she headed down the street, hands stuffed into her coat pocket.

When she arrived at the center, she stood dumbfounded to see a colorful building with murals of rainbows, flowers, the thing even had a little playground to the side where kids where battling it out on top of a slide. A small toothed smile tugged at her lips as she watched one of the supervisors trying to split up whatever territorial dispute seemed to be happening between the group. She felt an odd sense of amusement tinged in with a slight jab of envy, even if she knew it was misplaced. As she walked through to the reception, there were paintings and drawings splattered all over the walls along with plants that cuddled some of the furniture.

Ellie could hear giggles from down the hallways, a rather controlled chaos with young volunteers chasing after toddlers and toddlers chasing after each other. After sliding her ID into the reception, she stood idly waiting for the care director to bring her 'round to the unit. Her speckled gaze traced over some of the drawings on the wall, many with chicken scratch signatures or blotchy fingerprints. Cute.

When the director arrived, the last person she expected to see was you.

It all seemed to go quiet when you walked in, a child clinging to your hip and a binder in your arms that you were desperately trying to keep from the little one's nosy hands. You looked different, certainly much older than the last time she'd seen you. Draped over you was an oversized sweater with a smiley-face pin and your name, jingly bracelets covering your arms with similar lining your earlobes. When she'd known you, you were just a kid, thrown into the system like she was. Your face was the same, just with lines that showed your age and a warm smile that softened the edge you used to have. You looked happy.

"Ellie? Oh my god, I didn't even recognize you.."

She wasn't surprised; with her scruffy short hair and marred cheeks, it was a wonder you'd even identified her at all. The little kid seemed to grow bored of being in the presence of two grown-ups, quickly tumbling back to where all the action was at in the playroom. Before Ellie could even attempt to say something, you were pulling her into a hug. Your warm arms came around her like you'd known each other forever, but there was a lifetime between you now. Her body stiffened, but you smelt like warm memories and midnight stories.

When you pulled back, she finally managed to get some of that courage back, even if she felt like the two of you couldn't be more different. You'd grown softer. Ellie wasn't like that; she'd hardened.

"You look older.."

It was all she could think of saying, and the awkward laugh you gave in response made her sink inward just a little. In truth she hadn't expected you to be here or anywhere. That was the feeling in the system; people you'd known would vanish, and that was the last you would hear about it.

"You aren't getting away with it either.."

Your voice was warm, patient. The tone that must come natural now that you work with young children. Even at her age you instilled a sense of calmness in her, your familiar sarcasm working a small crooked smile onto her lips as Ellie glanced away bashfully. You held your binder to your chest, still little miss control freak.

"This place.. s'nice.."

Ellie's voice came softer than she'd expected, the hint of a stumble in her tone making her cringe. You didn't seem to notice, or if you did, you didn't mind. She watched your hair bounce as you nodded your head, your earrings jingling from the motion.

"Thank you. I didn't expect to settle down here.. was just a rundown building when I got her, now I couldn't imagine leaving."

That was so.. you.

Ellie had grown used to the constant moving around within the system, being pushed from family to family and usually ending up right back where she started. You, on the other hand, found it more difficult. She'd hug you when you got sent back, wondering why the new family didn't want to keep you. No matter how often she tried to soothe you, it seemed too personal for your young mind to comprehend. It made sense that now, as a grown woman, you still craved those roots, that commitment to somewhere.

It was difficult for her to not just stare at you, an imperfect habit she'd developed over time. Fumbling for straws, she adjusted her belt, staring at the ground for a moment. You seemed to pick up on her awkwardness; it drew you in. This wasn't the confident, smart-ass kid that used to sneak you in games for your 2Ds that she'd stolen from a foster home. It'd been a decade, sure, and you could tell that the years had been unkind. Her once bright hazel eyes were dark, hidden under a firm brow that bored lines onto her forehead. Her freckled cheeks had faint scarring, mostly obscured by dead-end bangs. A warm smile graced your lips, and you took her cold, calloused hand into yours.

"Right.. the AC unit.."

Ellie offered a wordless nod as you began to lead her through the hallway with more murals painted up the walls. It sent a flush of nostalgia through her hazy mind, a weird déjà vu that she couldn't shake. Still, your smaller hand was warm, and she felt strangely transfixed by it. She could feel every line, every brush of your fingers as though her senses were working overtime. Ellie didn't let it go until you brought her into one of the main playrooms. It was a flurry of arts and crafts, babies banging pots together and some older kids trading sweets by the window. Her ears twitched a little at the noise, one that she'd forgotten after all these years.

You led her to the unit that was tucked up in the corner of the room, it looked ancient and covered in purple crayon. No wonder the thing wasn't working anymore.

"I know that look.. it is old, but we get it serviced pretty regularly so I'm not sure what the issue is.."

You mused with a soft chuckle, flipping through your binder to where the last check was done a month ago. There were no notes from the last inspection, just that all seemed to be in working order. When you glanced up again, Ellie was already standing up on a plastic chair and unscrewing the front grille to get in at the filter, her toolbelt slung across her hip. Your eyes widened at the way she precariously leaned upward on a chair built for a 4 year old.

"Careful Els.. you're giving them ideas.."

Your voice was a teased murmur, and Ellie pulled her head back from the unit to notice a small gathering of curious children on the floor who were watching her tamper with the AC. A hint of red embarrassment tinged at her cheeks, unsure on what to make of the little observers. In the end she just gave you a gruff nod before pulling back the grate and lowering it onto one of the small desks.

You were needed elsewhere when an out of breath volunteer stumbled in saying that one of the kids in the playground pushed the other off the slide. Little bugger, Ellie thought with a small smirk.

As you got whisked away, Ellie was left with big eyes watching her every move. Some of the kids had taken to holding her tools for her, just happy to be helpers. She rummaged through the broken unit, lifting one of them up to see the inside as she gestured at all the little moving parts in there. That of course led to all the other kids wanting to see too.

Eventually she deduced the issue. The unit had a faulty air compressor, likely stemming from some dirt or oil build-up within the refrigerant. After making sure the AC was empty, she loosened the compressor belt with a small screwdriver before unplugging the electrical wire. After unbolting the damaged part she carefully extracted it from the unit, holding it up so she could examine it. It seemed busted up, whatever maintenance guy checks it out each other month was clearly a bit useless.

She disconnected the unit so it couldn't be turned on, before screwing back on the grate to keep out prying hands. The little group of observers scurried closer when Ellie stepped down off of the brightly colored chair. A soft huff of laughter left her lips when they all wanted to know what was wrong. Some of them reminded her of how she used to be, nosy and wanting to learn more about how things worked. Ellie crouched down between them, letting them all get a look at the broken air compressor.

"When things like dirt n' stuff build up in the unit, it can make the parts go faulty.."

She mumbled, gesturing to the slight staining along the edge of the part.

"What is that, ma'am?"

One of the kids spoke up, a small boy with a flurry of red curls and a dinosaur t-shirt that Ellie would unashamedly wear as a grown adult. The other kids nodded in agreement, looking up at her expectantly to explain it. She fumbled for a minute, not entirely sure how to explain a compressor system to a bunch of children.

"..s'Sort of like, it takes the warm air into the vent unit, and it.. turns it into cold air and spits it back out.. and visa-versa.."

She scratched at her head, yeah that was pretty much it.

"So what do we do now? Are you gonna fix it?"

A slightly older girl with dark hair and bangs that she'd very clearly cut herself spoke up, her hands toying with a small stuffed bunny rabbit that she held to her chest.

"Well, nothing.. right now anyways, I'll have to take this with me and see if I can find a replacement for it.."

"Are we gonna freeze?"

Someone spoke up from the back, causing a flurry of questions and worries that she wasn't exactly equipped to handle. She raised her hands trying to get their attentions, waving her wrists and trying to convince them that no, they won't freeze. However, before she could, you were walking back in with another supervisor. Frantically, one of the little ones ran to you, tugging at your legs with eyes of great distress.

"Miss! Miss! What are we going to do? I don't want to freeze.."

The little boy began to tear up, and you could only raise a brow at Ellie who was knelt down with a bunch of panicked toddlers crowded around her. You bent down to scoop him up onto your hip, patting down his hair.

"Don't be silly, nobody's going to freeze.."

You mused with soft amusement as you approached the group. Ellie looked at you with red tinged cheeks smeared with dust from the vent. She quickly stood up, patting down her trousers and offering up the broken component.

"..there's your problem sweetheart, broken compressor, I'll have to try find a replacement for it.."

Ellie murmurs, scratching at her scruffy hair as the little ones nod along in agreement.

Once back out in the hallway and alone with you, Ellie stood idly. She shifted on her feet while you signed her contractor sheet and took a copy for your maintenance folder. Her eyes lingered over your face as you scribbled your name and handed it back with a warm smile. She couldn't help but return that smile, though hers was a little tight lipped.

"I'll see you around, yeah? Give me a call if you find that part, these kids will be tropical once it starts getting hot.."

Your voice whipped around her ears, and she found herself nodding like an idiot. When she eventually did find her words, it was just before you were about to walk away. Maybe it was the fact that you were old friends, or maybe it was the fact that she liked having a purpose, but she'd get you that damn compressor if she had to raid a car engine for it.

"Yeah.. yeah don't worry I'll find you one somewhere.."

Her crooked fingers tugged at her sleeve, but her sullen eyes bore into yours like she couldn't look anywhere else. You smiled at her, liking that she still kept some of those same mannerisms that used to be so familiar to you. Unable to help it, you pulled her into another gentle hug, one she returned this time. She didn't mean to smell your hair, but it practically invaded her bloodstream once you got close. A more genuine smile pulled at her lips when she let you go, giving you a small wave as you walked off. She stood there for a minute or two, cheeks rosy.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

Ellie barely batted an eyelash as the person next door punched numbers into their microwave, the humming faintly pulsing through her walls. Ellie was pitched up on the kitchen counter, where the yellow tinged-light was the brightest. She held your damaged part up, working away at it with a screwdriver. A moth was clinking around in her lightshade, something that made her fingers' twitch in irritation. For a split-second, she felt a flush of anger, considered ripping the damn bulb from the socket and smashing it against the wall. The thought in it's intensity unsettled her, and she tried to regain her focus on the small object.

She'd searched all over town yesterday, badgering in auto part shops and checking out car-boot sales, but to no avail. While she did find compressors, they were too new for that hunk of junk you had in that wall. Still she had continued to search, even when the rain dampened the back of her collar and splintered through her scruffy hair.

Eventually though she was forced to give up, so here she sat. 2.47AM, half-naked, fucking around with an AC part that was older than her. The microwave next door dinged. That thing went off at all hours, and with the stench she was assaulted with whenever she walked past that door, it was no surprise that he got the munchies.

She waved her hand as it started to cramp up, her eyes tracing over the rim of the small metal device. She'd cleaned most of the oil and dust out of it, along with tightening up the bolts along the edge. The moth continued to flutter around the lightbulb, occasionally getting burned. Ellie's gaze flickered up to it, then down at her arm with a soft huff.

She was a moth.

She slid down off of the counter, padding to the bedroom in old socks. Her room was essentially a void, those black-out curtains she'd found in a garage sale like a blessing, considering the street-lights that flashed all hours just outside her window.

Ellie had even gotten used to it, changing in the darkness and sometimes even showering that way. It was somewhat relaxing, though sometimes you could clearly tell by her outfits that she couldn't see herself. Some blend between southern grandpa at a barbeque and closed off junkie, however that worked. She tugged her sports bra up over her head and onto the ground somewhere, stumbling towards the bathroom along the way. The sound of water hitting the tiles filled the room, warm steam surrounding her in the darkness as she moved in. Hot beads trickled down her neck and shoulders as she lay her head back against the current, a heavy breath of relief drifting from her lips.

A few minutes later Ellie dragged herself out, pale skin damp as she ran a towel through her hair. She could faintly catch the sound of soft moans and thumping from above her, rolling her eyes as she continued to dry herself off. The noise was louder as she left the bathroom, a towel draped around her loosely as she shuffled into her bedroom. Ellie rummaged through her nightstand in search of her retainer, letting out a small grumble of annoyance when she couldn't find it. After a minute or so of feeling around in the dark, she admits defeat, turning on her small bedside lamp. She squints at the soft bulb, glancing around and seeing her retainer amidst her dirty bedsheets. Gross.

After splashing some water over them and pushing them in, Ellie padded back, glancing around. The room was.. a mess, to say the least. Clothes hung over every corner, to-go cups and empty beer bottles lining what used to be a desk. Her brow furrowed a little, that was another reason why she liked the darkness, it made it easier to ignore what was right in front of her. The ceiling continued to rattle above, exaggerated cries that definitely didn't match the pace of whoever was up there with her. Poor thing. Ellie reached over her bedside to turn off that lamp when she caught a glimmer of her reflection in the mirror.

Moving closer, she let her eyes gaze over her speckled skin, old bruises still fading. She looked like a mess. Unkempt hair, a towel still hanging from her hips and dark circles under her eyes that looked more akin to smudged eyeshadow. She cocked her head slightly, eyes roaming over the small cleavage that was still rosy from the shower. With the stranger's whimpers in her ears, she let a hand trail over her firm breast, exhaling back through her lips as she held herself.

Ellie's eyes drooped shut as she slowly traced along her ribs, up to her collar and around her neck. With a slight squeeze her hips swayed forward gently, mimicking the creaking of the floorboards. She rolled her head around limply before settling her half-lidded gaze back on her own reflection.

Her hands drifted back down to the white fabric that concealed her lower, unwrapping the towel gently and letting it sink to the floor. Her body grew rigid as it dropped, her blood running cold. Along her upper thighs were faint greenish-yellow veins that crawled along her skin and up across her abdomen like a soft pulse beneath her skin. Her crooked finger traced over one of the lines, a slight tremor in her own touch. She swallowed deeply.

She slowly tilted her body to the side, seeing that some of the veins ran up her back, curling around her waist like dying plants. As her gaze flickered over her body she grew paranoid, now up close and personal with the mirror as she examined every inch of her skin. Aside from the veins she seemed relatively normal.

Her eyes were a little darker than before, though that could be from hiding herself away in unlit rooms and the lack of sleep she'd been getting. It was normal, she was normal, just a strange reaction. Might've been a bug bite or a kidney infection or something. She'd pick up some over the counter drug and be fine.

After all, she was immune, right?

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

The weather was just as awful the next day, heavy rain splattering down on her coat, beads of water rolling down her boots with every step as she shuffled down the street. Her teeth were gritted at the whips of wind. Eventually she made it down to the foster center, the playground drenched and muddy with no sense of life. Rolls of thunder brewed behind the clouds, electrical wires dancing in the harsh winds.

Moving up to the entrance she rapped on the door, loud enough that if there were people inside they'd hear. Though, where else would they be? The lights were shut off, the place likely short on power in the storm. Ellie had initially left her place with the intention of returning your compressor, not noticing the severity of the clouds until it was too late.

The door swung open, and your eyes widened to see her there. Ellie, soaked to the skin with a crooked smile and muddy boots. She bit back a chuckle as you ushered her in quickly, shutting the door behind her.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?"

You were wearing a teddy-bear colored fleece with baggy jeans and brown boots, your hair in two messy braids and eyes wide set with concern. You looked cute.

"Came to fix the vent, bad time?"

She teased with a soft chuckle, considering there wasn't a single light on in the building. Your cheeks were red like you'd been rushing around. She wondered if you were still afraid of thunderstorms. You used to be. You scoffed in mild irritation, folding your arms and starting to walk away from her. Ellie clambered after you with a shit eating grin.

"Hey don't be like that.. I can probably get your generator working too.."

She called out after you, trudging down the hallway and peeling off her coat to hang up. You waited for her with an expression of subtle amusement and relief, letting her follow along with you back to the playroom. Inside was all the little ones curled up together by the supervisors who were holding candles and trying to keep everyone calm. There was puffy eyes, tears, and anxious faces. Ellie had to bite back another laugh, covering her mouth before you jabbed her in the side with your elbow. She nudged you back almost childishly, this time leaning down to speak to you.

"It's not chemical warfare outside you know, you got them all huddled together like a nuke's about to drop.."

She mused against your ear, chuckling as you batted her away again with your hands. Ellie rummaged through her backpack for a flashlight, heading back down the hallway where you had said the generator was. When she pried open the old cupboard, the thing was covered in a matte layer of dust, her brows furrowed as she searched for the fuse 'round the back. Eventually it clicked in, but the generator simply let out a chortled chuff of smoke before shutting off again. Damn.

As she got a closer look, she felt a sudden rush of unease flood her. However, it didn't feel like her unease. Pulling her head back from the dirty closet, she glanced side-long down the hallway. Ellie noticed you at the end, staring out of the window with those worried eyes as the thunder shoved against the small building. She remained crouched on her hind, eyes soft for a moment.

She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt attuned to you, it was like she could smell how uncomfortable you were. Scooting herself up, Ellie padded down the corridor, coming up behind you and carefully placing her dusty hands on your arms. Your body went rigid at the unexpected contact, but when you moved your head back to see Ellie, you relaxed slightly, lowering your head sheepishly.

"..Still don't like the thunder huh?"

Her voice was soft, low, she almost didn't even recognize it as her own. She studied your expression, stress creased into the lines on your forehead and that stain of redness on your cheeks. Ellie could tell it still bothered you, it's why you were out here instead of in with the rest of the tots. You didn't want them to be scared, and they certainly wouldn't be reassured by seeing you scared too. You swallowed, turning to make up some sort of half-assed excuse for why you were out here when there was another bang of thunder.

Before she could register it, you were against her chest. Her arm's hovered in the air for a moment, those veins pulsing beneath her clothes in a way that made her heart sink. She hoped you wouldn't notice. Her arms slowly lowered themselves around you, a sigh drifting from her lips as she patted your head and gazed out at the lashing rain. Ellie's felt that warm nostalgia floating around her, holding you close again. You were kids then, it felt different now.

"s'Just rain.. just noise sweetheart.."

Her voice came soft against your ear, tucking some strands of hair back into place as you continued to hide away against her chest. She didn't like that you were so tense, that such a brave woman like you was still so wary of things beyond your control. You tilted your head up to look at her, and that puffy face of yours damn near broke her heart. Ellie gazed down at you, her crooked fingers still adjusting your braids. She didn't like seeing you upset, and she couldn't fathom why she could feel you being upset.

Your eyes lingered on her face, freckles splotching across her cheeks and heavy bags under those dark eyes. The way she adjusted your hair made your heart flutter, a hint of heat creeping up the collar. Ellie was feeling something similar, her finger's burning against your skin and your perfume practically invading her nose. Then she felt it again, that pulsing under her skin, and her hand dropped. She took a guided step back from you, not entirely trusting her own body no matter how badly she wanted to be close to you.

Her rejection stung, a subtle ache that swirled around your gut. It was typical of Ellie, to push you away when she got nervous or scared. You wished she wasn't like that, wished she'd pull you closer instead.

"Els.."

You began to speak, your voice a guarded whisper. Before you could even finish the thought though, the lights flickered back on, the busted generator churning loudly like an old fan. There was lots of excited chatter filling the air now, squeals and little claps. The air between you though still stayed thick, your eyes searching hers. They were dark, a hint of clarity in them that was unfamiliar to you. Ellie's heart was thudding in her chest, her fingers twitching. She avoided your gaze, distant.

"Ellie?"

Your voice was softer now, a little more worried at the lack of.. well anything from her. You bridged the gap yourself, gently taking her arm and trying to look up at her lowered face. You still felt warm, she felt colder now. Maybe it was the rain, you thought, she could be sick. Her skin was still clammy from the walk, her hair soaked through and you sighed softly.

"Hang around, yeah? I'll give you a ride home when the rain eases up.."

She looked up at you when you spoke this time, brows furrowed as that thudding in her chest continued. It was disorientating, your lips were moving but it was difficult for her to know what you were saying to her. Still, when you patted her arm and guided her to a comfy chair inside one of the playrooms she recognized that you wanted her to stay here. She watched you walk away, a strained sigh leaving through her teeth.

After some slow, measured breaths that pulsing beneath her skin started to calm, replaced by a deep hollowness on the inside of her chest. She fiddled with her shirt sleeve, her gaze trailing over the various activities that were kicking off between the junior inmates. Ellie knew she should get up, fix your vent like she came here to do in the first place but at the minute she was weighed to the chair. Her gaze flickered to a little girl sitting by herself in the corner, book in hand.

She had short-ish hair, splotchy cheeks and was reading about space with glasses pushed up her nose that were way too big for her. Ellie's eyes lingered, a bittersweet sense of familiarity circling around her. The girl did occasionally look up, watching what was happening around her but never being directly involved with whatever game was taking place. She felt too old. It was a feeling Ellie knew all too well.

Ellie swallowed that unease in her gut, slowly getting up and heading to the air unit. Now that the power was back, she could actually see what she was doing. She unscrewed the panel again, her brain on auto-pilot as she screwed the 'new' compressor back into place and re-attached the belt. Once it was all bolted back down, Ellie placed back over the grate, fiddling with some of the air-con settings to see if it was back in working order. When that gust of soft warm air hit her face she felt that flicker of satisfaction.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

It was around eight when you eventually got back to Ellie's apartment, walking her to the door despite her insistence that she was fine. Her mouth was dry when you looked up at her, a soft expression on her face that only you seemed to get out of her. She was all too aware of how you smelled. It was like your perfume had doubled in intensity since you left the car, it made her brain foggy as she fumbled with her house keys. As she pushed the creaking door open she glanced back at you.

"..Wanna come in for a bit? I got beer.."

Her voice was quiet, vulnerable.

"I have to drive, Els.."

You let out a gentle laugh, but you weren't saying no to coming in.

Ellie led you to the living room, giving you the better cushion on her beaten-up sofa, a small grin growing on her lips. Ellie still felt.. off, even as you cozied up with some blankets and soda. It started off pleasant though, soft chatter above the TV as you sat close. She could feel how warm you were, her heart thudding gently in her chest. She played it off though, lazily scrolling through her contact list to search for the takeout number.

Her fingers twitched as she tried to pay attention to what you were saying. You'd started talking about how you'd eventually found a foster family here in Seattle, you got your certificate online for pre-primary teaching and childcare. She wanted to listen, she really did. But the TV was playing, the harsh blue light rubbing against her dry eyes. Whatever you were wearing was so strong she felt like she might cough it up, and your voice became a drone that made her head pound. Her left hand brought a cold beer to her lips, trying to keep contact with your pretty eyes.

There was a bit of peace when the food arrived, she could focus on the tastes swishing around in her mouth as it filled her gut. She liked to eat. Your arm was brushing against her side while you both sat there, your legs crossed as you snacked on some spring rolls. Her eyes flickered over to the way your mouth bit down onto them, the crunch and the way your neck bobbed with each swallow. It was more distracting than it should've been. Ellie wasn't sure if she wanted to be the one biting down, or to be the one that you sank your molars into. Her brow lowered, put-off by her own staring as she shoved some more rice into her mouth.

There was nothing in her that wanted more than to be closer to you, to hear those sweet sounds in her ear. But still somehow your voice was too loud, and your body was too close to hers. As she watched the bluescreen across from the two of you, she could feel that dull pounding in her head kicking in. She tried to ignore it, couldn't exactly shut herself in a dark room. She snapped at you. She didn't mean it.

"God could you just.. just be quiet for a second.."

Her voice was low, cutting you off while you told her some silly fact about the actor who was on-screen. She hadn't even expected to say it until the words were already out, and the look on your face made her feel like she'd been socked in the jaw. Ellie felt antsy still, her head aching now with the familiar bug of guilt that was chewing on her gut lining.

"I'm sorry.. I didn't mean that, s'just.. my head.."

She spoke out in an unsteady murmur, rubbing at her forehead with her cool palm in an effort to ease her mind. She wanted to be like you, or she wanted to be with you, she hadn't figured that part out yet. She figured you'd be fed up with her huffing, she'd been a dick to you all day. Her head hurt. Sweat had started to pool around her neck, dripping down her back in an unpleasant shiver as she crouched forward, the floor blurring. The TV continued to drone, her crooked fingers trembling against her face.

And then, softness.

Your hands were touching her arms, gently prying her hands from her pale face. She almost wanted to bark at you for taking away her brief relief, but then your small hand found it's way to her forehead.

"God Els.. you're burning.."

Your hands glided back into her scruffy hair, noticing the beads of sweat that'd gathered around her forehead and the way she looked at you with those lost eyes. Ellie had been quiet for most of the night, you figured she was awkward and nervous. Now it seemed something lay deeper under that skin, her hands coming up to grip onto your wrists. You rubbed her hair back for a few moments before letting go. After turning off the TV and gathering some cold water you held it to her dry, pink lips. She drank it down like a dying man. With the lights now dimmed she seemed to gain some of her focus back, but still that guilt persisted.

"I want you here.. don't know what's wrong with me.."

Her voice was a strained mutter, her fingers still twitching at her brow as she tried to focus on that pretty face of yours. She looked sick, maybe a fever from being out in the rain. You couldn't help but grow softer at the confession, figuring she was simply grumpy and overtired. It was sort of like the kids you'd deal with, throwing tantrums usually because basic needs weren't met. You continued to nurse that water into her, your hand resting on her upper back. Ellie wanted that hand everywhere.

She let her head hang low, deep measured breaths leaving her lips as her shoulders hunched over. Ellie tried not to think about the fact that she'd snapped at you, the fact that her teeth hurt and her stomach was covered in veins. She didn't want to think about it, and she certainly didn't want you to think about it either. The urge was there, to hide herself away and be alone, but it felt so nice to have a hand on her back, to have your palm holding her head.

Eventually the pain stilled, the world was a little quieter now. She looked up from her shoulders, her hazel eyes meeting yours almost sheepishly. Your hand was still on her back, the other smoothing down her hair as though she was a dog. It made her huff. Her eyes traced your features, the look of worry in your eyes.

"M'okay sweetheart, just get these migraines sometimes.. it's like my skull is being split open.."

You let out a soft hum at her words, mulling over her behavior. It made sense, you'd noticed the dark bags under her eyes so Ellie likely didn't sleep well. Her fridge was full of junk, and the sweat that beaded her skin was a cry for hydration. Not to mention the fact she'd spent an hour in the rain today. Your finger brushed a strand that had fallen into her face, both of you once again stilling at the intimate contact. To Ellie's disappointment, you were the one who pulled away this time, your hands falling down to your lap as you cleared your throat.

"Well it's no wonder, you look like a damn zombie Els, probably running on nothing.."

"Mm.. feels like it.."

She huffed out an uneasy laugh, her hand slowly finding yours. She felt a little calmer now, though her temper seemed to flutter under the surface of her skin like an elastic band that could snap. You let out a warm giggle in response, rolling your eyes as you held onto her cold hand. Your fingers idly traced her pointed knuckles, noticing the red and purple blotches that coated them. Your brows mulled together.

"You've been fighting?"

Your voice was gentle, it made her feel less defensive. She didn't withdraw from you, too engrossed by your fingers on her skin. Still, Ellie had no idea how to even explain what her life had been like this far. She knew you wouldn't judge her, even if you both grew in different ways. She nodded.

"Yeah, something like that.."

She chewed on her bottom lip, remembering how her hands had felt wrapped around Abby's neck.

"Sort of found myself a family like you, his name was Joel.."

Ellie hadn't planned on letting you in, but it seemed her heart had other ideas.

"He.. he raised me, in all the ways that mattered anyway.."

Her red eyes brimmed with salted tears that she didn't want to let fall. Her face was hunched over again, so one simply dripped straight down onto the floor. Your silent gaze conveyed empathy, she knew you were listening.

"But he was an idiot.. got himself killed and I couldn't-"

She swallowed deeply, his bloody beaten face looking her dead in the eye. She felt sick to her stomach at the image, at the squelch of the golf-club bludgeoning his skull. Her fingers started to twitch, that hollow ache in her gut that spread up to her kidneys.

"Oh Els.."

Your voice was a whisper, and you didn't even know if she had heard it over the sound of her own breathing. Shifting closer, your free hand hovered near her arm. Her tears were dripping down onto the carpet, and it felt like your heart was being squeezed tight. Ellie continued to stare at the ground when she felt your warm arm around her shoulders, holding her to your side. She wanted to be closer, to be under your skin. Ellie let her forehead press into your collar, but kept her hands to herself.

"I don't think you should be here.. m'not.. I.."

Her words didn't make much sense, her thoughts muddled and warm and confused. Your fingers continued to travel along her brown strands, unable to look away from those red-brimmed eyes, that dark look in them that stood stark against her pale skin. You cradled her face, your breath a ghost over her cheek as you let your nose nudge into the side of her ear. Ellie tensed, her head tilting ever so slightly before one of her cold, large hand finds it's way to your hair, pulling you in closer to her neck. That was always the way with her, her lips telling you one thing and her hands contradicting it.

Her shoulders were hunched, sweat dripping down the back of her neck. You could smell it the minute you hovered, a mix of cologne and petrol with that hint of sweat. Prying back her hair you tied it up into a bun, despite her grumbled protests about having the back of her neck exposed.

"You're too hot.. Trust me, I don't give a damn about the back of your neck.."

Your voice was almost exasperated, a hint of amusement sparkling in your eyes at her antics. Ellie liked to be particular about things, her hairstyle was one of them. If she got a haircut, good luck getting to see her do anything else for a few years. It was cute in it's own way, but that half-up half-down was doing nothing to cool her down.

Ellie refused to remove her sweats or her t-shirt, she couldn't let you see what was hiding under the fabric. You sighed, not pushing her on it but instead just coaxing her upward.

"Think you need to get some sleep honey, and take those sweats off when I leave, you'll cool down.."

Your voice was gentle as you guided her into what you assumed was the bedroom. Ellie winced when you turned on the light, exposing a dump ground of dirty laundry, stained bedsheets and a small country worth of bottle cans. She avoided your gaze as you set her over on the bed, crouching down in front of her.

"Didn't think anyone would b' over.. I would've cleaned it you know.."

Her voice was a vulnerable whisper, her fingers twitching at the drawstring of her sweats. She didn't like that you were seeing her this way, it was humiliating. Your eyes were understanding though, and you gently rubbed her knee.

"I know.. I get off this Sunday, if you'd like I have a stack of black bags and a bottle of Mr. Clean.."

Ellie's eyes shot down to your hand on her knee, then back up to your warm eyes. Your teasing yet caring tone made her heart flutter. Her mouth still felt dry, and as she looked around the room, she knew that she probably couldn't do it alone.

"Yeah, yeah okay.."

Her voice came quiet, the veins under her skin still pulsing. She leaned down so that her arms were resting on her upper thighs, your voices closer together. Her dark eyes searched your features, lifting a hand to gently trace down one of your messy braids.

The air between you was warm, eyes locked while you knelt between her legs. She leaned over you, fascinated with your knitted hair and your soft eyes. Up close she was still pretty, dark lashes that brushed over a sullen brow. The small glimmers of sweat still dripped down the back of Ellie's neck, a soft shudder leaving her lips.

Ellie leaned down closer, her exhales gently blowing against your cheek. You reached a hand up slowly, taking her fingers that were carding through your braid. Ellie flicked her tongue out over her dry lips, wanting nothing more than to lean down and press her face to yours. You held her gaze, watching as she began to lean down to you with half-lidded eyes and rosy cheeks.

As much as you wanted to give in to that, to see where this unexpected fling would lead, you knew it wasn't right. You gently took her cheeks before she could kiss you, and her eyes flickered open. Ellie felt a tingling of rejection in her gut once you stopped her, her eyes shifting from vulnerable softness to a hurt defensiveness. She slowly straightened up, avoiding your gaze.

"Still not into girls huh?"

A gentle smile tugged at your lips at her almost petulant response, the way she folded her arms and pushed you away like you'd just broken her heart. You shook your head with a soft laugh.

"I'm not into girls who aren't in the right headspace to make an informed decision.."

Your voice was knowing. As cute as this freckled girl was, she was clearly not in the right mindset to do anything with. You knew that she wasn't well, not right now anyways. When she continued to avoid your gaze, you gently pulled her chin back to face you.

"Not like this, okay?"

You spoke softer this time, the look in your eyes reassuring her that you did want her, it just wasn't the right moment for this to go any further. Ellie held your eyes for a few moments before nodding with a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping.

"You know you don't always need to be responsible.."

She grumbled, though there was a flicker of amusement tugging at her lips, pretending like she was still mad at you.

"I know, boring as ever.."

You murmured softly, still knelt between her legs with a gentle expression. You reached up to Ellie again, petting down the side of her hair as you studied those rosy freckles and dark eyes.

"You're beautiful.. you know that? Haven't changed a bit.."

Ellie almost short-circuited when you called her that, she almost didn't believe you. In her mind she had changed, no longer some greasy kid with braces and a plethora of facts about the solar system. She leaned her head against your palm, her face still warm. Her arms then sunk down to you, bringing you into a warm hug.

You jolted when she suddenly grabbed you with ease, surprised by the display of strength in her weak state. She was so sweet though, and you all but melted as she hid her face in your chest. You let out a chuckle, patting the top of her head and letting her hold onto you for a moment.

"I'm gonna head home now Els, get some sleep yeah?"

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

The laundry machine rattled against the floorboards in her kitchen, bundles of clothes sloshing around while others hung up on a small drying rack. You were still managing to find dirty bras and t-shirts stuffed under her bed, your nose wrinkling slightly.

"No wonder you always wear the same clothes, half your shit is buried.."

You teased, carrying another basket full of laundry to where Ellie sat by the counter, watching the clothes spinning around. She still wasn't feeling her best, but your company had her eyes sparkling even through the embarrassment of this 'early spring clean', as you called it. She slid down off of the counter, taking the heavy basket from your hands and sitting it down by the washing machine.

"I'm on a journey to a minimalist wardrobe.."

She shrugged, ruffling through some old band t-shirts that she'd forgot she even owned. Some of them were definitely more suited for the trash, with rips and stains that no amount of washing could fix. You tugged out a black laced bra from the pile, raising a brow. It was such a contrast to Ellie's.. everything, and you couldn't help but giggle as you lifted it up.

"Ellie Williams.. I didn't know you had someone to wear all that for.."

You spoke, a shit-eating grin on your face as you watched her go hot in the cheeks. Ellie was quickly moving toward you, trying to wrestle the bra out of your hands while you giggled and tried to squirm away.

"How d'you know it's even mine?"

She grumbled out in a fluster, cornering you against the counter and managing to get the thin garment out of your grip. You continued to laugh at her, a rosy tint to your own cheeks. The idea of it belonging to someone else did send a strange flicker of insecurity through you, but judging by how Ellie was currently red in the face and flustered you had a feeling that wasn't the case.

"That doesn't make it much better.."

You huffed, folding your arms as she stuffed it back into the laundry basket. Ellie stood back up, raising a brow at the way your tone had shifted ever so slightly. More focused on you now than her shyness, she moved closer, leaning against the counter playfully. You scoffed, pushing at her chest to try and get some amount of personal space back.

"That wasn't an invitation.."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile that split through your teeth as you managed to escape her trap, heading back to the bedroom. You could hear her chuckling in the kitchen still, cleaning down countertops. After shaking the shyness from your cheeks, you got back to work stuffing all those dirty cans and beer bottles into a black bag. The place was already looking better, brighter. That might have something to do with the way you had forced all the curtains open as soon as you arrived, despite the protests of that vampire of a woman in the other room.

As you shoveled trash into the plastic bag, you noticed a small shoebox tucked beneath the bed. A hint of curiosity crept over you, but you hesitated. For all you knew that could be a box of porno CDs or genuinely an old pair of shoes. Still, your hand tentatively reached over to pull it out from under the bedframe. You glanced over to the doorway, where you could still hear Ellie moving around and clearing out her cupboards of expired food.

Still, the glitter covered box drew you in, a large 'E' plastered on with old glue stick and painted with stickers. It was cute, reminded you of how Ellie used to be. Your fingers traced along some of the stickers, the box painted messily in a pale lavender color with remnants of cardboard brown peeking through.

You set aside the lid onto the carpet, peering inside. The box was filled to the brim with photos, wristbands and tickets. A warm feeling swirled in your stomach as you lifted some of the polaroids, Ellie with a big grin full of braces as she held up a fish with an older man. Joel, you assumed.

Some of the other items caught your eye too, old drawings of her as an astronaut and one poorly drawn horse. You were beaming ear to ear without even realizing, feeling as though you were catching up on the life that she kept hidden so tight to her chest. Hidden amongst the memorabilia was also a photo of.. you. Truth be told you didn't even know this image existed, a little seven year old you with that choppy haircut and watching a film on tape.

You recognized that blurry sort of texture, that cartoonish watermark that came from those off-brand kid cameras. A rosy shyness dusted your cheeks as you found some more, one a selfie of you and her. You even found some photos of an older you, from the foster family you inevitably got adopted into. Clearly given to Ellie in a means of comfort while she was still in the system.

You weren't sure when you started to tear up, maybe it was the polaroid of Ellie and Joel that had 'love you babygirl' scribbled onto the back in messy sharpie or perhaps the drawing of you and Ellie holding hands in a crooked love heart.

It was a bittersweet feeling, and it near destroyed you to think about how this poor girl had lost practically everything. At the time you were a year younger than her, still not fully mature enough to realize the depth of her affections for you. A few tears dripped down your cheeks, staining the old notepad paper.

Ellie trudged into the bedroom, wondering why it had gone so quiet all of a sudden considering you'd been squawking all morning about how much of a mess her place was. Her heart dropped as she seen you knelt by her bed, a hand over your lips and eyes brimmed with tears. The next thing she noticed was the small lavender box on your lap, pictured scattered across the carpet. She felt that intense flash of anger at you for going through her stuff, though her feelings for you swallowed that heat.

You noticed her in the doorway, staring up at her tearfully like a deer in headlights. You knew you shouldn't have been snooping around, there to clean not go through her stuff. The allure of simpler times had gotten to you, and now your heart felt ten times heavier with guilt from the pain that Ellie was in.

"Els.. I'm so sorry.."

You weren't too sure whether you were apologizing for going through her things, for what she'd gone through, or for leaving her. Ellie watched as you hid your face in your hands, shoulders shaking subtly. Despite the haze that clouded her mind, her feet began to move of their own will as she sat down onto the floor beside you. She pried the box from your trembling hands, before pulling you gently between her legs and against her chest.

You weren't expecting to be cradled that way, and you hid your face away against her collar. Warm tears still dripped from your cheeks, Ellie's face brushing against your head. Ellie was still incredibly warm, and it was easy to relax. You slowly raised your head, batting wet eyelashes at her. Ellie watched as you held one of the pictures of you two together.

"I didn't realize.. I.."

Your voice was an unsteady whisper, your freehand still covering your lips as you sat between her legs.

"We were kids.."

Ellie muttered softly, patting along the side of your hair as her own heart burned from the memories. She'd spent so much time back then comforting you, soothing how homesick you were. Ellie hadn't even known what to do with herself when you never came back. Unsure of what came over her, Ellie leaned down to smell your hair again.

"I know that but I could've.. I didn't mean to leave you there.."

You let go of the polaroid, letting it sit back into the box and instead wrapping your arms around her so tight that you were surprised she didn't push you away. Ellie continued to rub down the side of your head, her other crooked hand tracing along your back. She almost lost herself in your hair, engrossed by the smells and textures. That cloud over her brain continued to worsen, a billow of frustration swirling in her gut that she couldn't stay present with you.

Sitting against her on the floor was surprisingly cozy, her arms keeping you close as you rested your head against her chest. You were used to her not replying by now, she got too caught up in whatever she was thinking about. Typically though, you didn't mind, not when she was holding you close like this.

You soon felt her mouthing at your hair, biting at strands like a kitten and couldn't help but let out a watery giggle, pulling back just enough to raise a brow. Her eyes were dark and lidded, her fingers still gliding down the side of your head.

"What are you doing?"

Your voice was soft, unable to hide the amusement in your tone.

"I don't know.."

Ellie confessed, holding back the urge to continue. The truth was it'd gotten worse, she'd gotten worse. The thoughts louder, the migraines harsher, the control weaker. You smiled at her warmly, before your gaze drifted down to her neck. A cold chill trickled down your spine as you noticed faint green and yellow veins peeking out ever so slightly from the collar of her shirt that faintly pulsed beneath her skin.

Ellie noticed your gaze immediately, trying to shift and tug up her shirt but she knew it was too late. You'd seen it.

"What the fuck is that?"

Your voice came a nervous whisper, not even wanting the answer.

"It's.. I don't know.."

She felt like a broken record, her thoughts looping around and around in circles in a way that almost made her dizzy.

"Take off your shirt.."

"..I can't, let me-"

"Ellie, take off the damn shirt.."

Your voice came strained, a raised tone that left zero room for argument. Tears brimmed in Ellie's eyes, her fingers trembling as she reached for the bottom of her t-shirt. Your hand flew to your lips as she exposed her chest, covered in veins and blotches of greenish yellow, her ribs pulsing like it had it's own heartbeat. For a moment you were stunned into silence.

"Jesus Christ.."

You spoke in a whisper, your warm fingers reaching out carefully to trace along some of the veins that fluttered gently at your touch. They covered all along her abdomen and across her breasts, crawling around her collar and down her back. Ellie was staring at you wide-eyed, her eyelashes growing wet with held back floods.

"Did you get bit? What-.. what is this?"

You looked up at her, wanting answers yet still fearing the answers that they might bring.

"I got bit.. five years ago.. I'm immune, or-.. I should be.."

Ellie spoke, a few stray tears falling down to the carpet as she avoided your gaze, feeling utterly exposed under your eyes. Her chest was a sore sight, covered in veins and murky colors that stood out grimly against her pale skin. Despite her fears she was still gripping your shirt tightly, she was scared.

You continue to look her over, before meeting her dark eyes again. It was all starting to make sense; the mood swings, the lack of concentration, the way she walked around like she barely knew where she was. Your heart sunk further as you wiped away some of her tears, your warm fingers rubbing against her marred cheeks. It was no surprise Ellie was immune, but infections adapt to their biome. What was more likely the case was that the fungus had sat dormant, taking hold of her and gradually spreading over time.

"Something's happening to me.."

Her voice was a watery whisper, her skin pulsing just beneath the flesh.

"I can't sleep, I get so-.. so angry all the time, n' I throw shit around.. can't even think straight.."

You held her burning cheeks, your own eyes glossy with worry as she finally confessed all that had been happening lately. Part of you was pissed off that she'd kept something so serious from you, but seeing her cry like that made it difficult to hold onto.

"..m' so damn scared.. sweetheart"

Ellie confessed, a vulnerability in her tone that she hadn't let through in years. You were quick to pull her to your chest again, feeling the heat of her skin and the strange textures of her back. Your heart was racing in your chest, and Ellie could practically hear it. Ellie mouthed at your shirt, trying to calm down as much as she could. She was afraid of how easy it was for her to lose herself these days, a little grievance or a memory dragging her beneath a heavy current.

"It's okay.. we'll figure this out.."

Truthfully, you were terrified. The look in her eyes though kept you grounded, you wouldn't leave her again, not like this. You brushed more of her wet tears away, unable to reason with yourself this time. You leaned down to her, your nose rubbing against her cheek and seeking the permission of her lips. Ellie shied away, afraid that somehow she'd transfer this gross bacteria to you. Her hand was braced against your hair still, her other sinking down to your hip.

"What if-.."

Her voice was a watery whisper, and you didn't need her to continue to know where her fears lay.

"I don't care.."

You confessed, stroking her marred cheek as you rested against her lap. The thought of her here all alone, suffering through whatever this was destroyed you. There wasn't anything in this world that could convince you to leave her. You pushed back more of her tangled hair, glossy eyes tracing over her pale face that had already begun to show signs of discoloring.

Ellie's gaze ghosted over your warm lips, soft and pink and all that she'd been able to think about since she found you again. Her trembling hand brought you closer, her movements disjointed. With your warm breath on her face and your wordless pleas, she all but melted into your promises.

The cluster in her head went silent the moment your mouth met hers, her heart syncing to yours as she pulled you closer. Your smell was once again diluting her bloodstream, strong and lovely. Her cold hands trailed up your shirt and against the warm skin of your back, a shiver trickling down your spine as your lips moved against hers.

Your hands traced the lines of her skin, feeling that softness while you could. The kiss was practically a warm cuddle, your legs wrapped around her waist as you molded together on the bedroom floor. Ellie could already feel it, the tremor in her hands and the way she'd lose a grip on something light. Her motor skills were deteriorating, slowly, but steadfast. She knew that soon, she might not be able to touch you, to hold you like this, and so she pressed you to the cold wooden floor, embracing this moment that she knew might never happen again.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

The next few weeks were painful. Ellie had gotten worse by the day, puking blood and losing any sense of coherency that she'd had. She wasn't like anything you'd seen before, not exactly mutated but not herself either. You'd moved in a few nights after finding out, afraid to leave her alone in that apartment like this. You kept her keys now, locking her in the apartment whenever you had to leave to keep her from wandering. Not that she would, if anything she was even more of a homebody now.

Still it made going to work even more difficult, constantly checking your phone though you doubted she'd even think to call you if something happened. You were trying to push away the inevitable, knowing that soon it would get too hard to go to work. Already you had to re-explain to her every morning where you were going, why you were going, and the tearful tantrums that ensued. The worst part was getting home, most nights finding it in tatters or Ellie passed out in a pile of her own body fluids.

You'd have to lift her, cradling her by the head and trying to get her to wake up. She'd always try to escape you initially, to fight with you when you caught her off guard. Your arms often took the brunt of her anger or fear, holding deep scratches and bruises from where her blunt nails dug into your skin. It was the only way Ellie could express things to you, especially now that her vocal chords were mostly too tensed to make any coherent sounds. Some days were better than others, where sometimes you might get a poorly formed sentence or she'd let her give you a bath.

Those baths were a complete nightmare, especially at the beginning. Ellie often found it extremely distressing to have her body exposed to you, and to her own eyes. She was covered in those yellow-green face, rough textures and blotches of callouses sprouting along her back and inner thighs. You always tried to calm that insecurity she felt, saying she felt like the moon and how beautiful she was. Even still, her once hazel eyes were now dark and clouded, paranoid. During bath time you'd taken to just covering her eyes with a small scarf, like one might do to a travelling horse. It made her calmer.

When you did manage to get her to sit into the lukewarm water, her fist would be painfully tight around your wrist at every moment. The first few times you'd washed her you ended up soaked to the bone whenever she caught sight of some peeled skin floating in the water. Her wet nude frame had refused to leave your arms, drenching you in the process as you tried to soothe her, to remind her that her skin wasn't falling off.

You loved her, but you were exhausted.

The clawing at your arms, the sleepless nights and her unwillingness to detach from your body was slowly grating at your patience. Ellie didn't exactly recognize personal space anymore, she liked to smell your hair and be all over you like a slobbering dog. Her breath would stick to your face and neck, her bony arms usually too tight around your shoulders while she chewed on your hair or your earlobe. You knew she didn't mean it, but it still wore you out, especially on nights where you just needed to be alone for an hour.

You didn't have it in your heart to blame her, not when she was puking up clots in the toilet or hiding in the closet because something had frightened her. You were both stuck in this desperate cycle, wanting the other but suffering from this broken dynamic. You feared the day that you couldn't care for her anymore, and you knew she felt it too. You wouldn't leave her, you knew that. But it grew to a point where eventually, you snapped;

It'd been a long day at the center, an issue with adoption contracts that led to the foster families pulling out last minute from the arrangements. This led to you having to deal with children who had spent the day packing, crocodile tears and confused faces pulling at your clothes or getting angry at you. It was heart-breaking, and you were so worn out.

After getting home, all you craved was some quiet. One hour, even. As you trudged up the cold stairwell and turned your keys into the door, a breath left your lips at the state of the apartment. You'd gotten used to the mess, half the time you didn't even bother cleaning it because Ellie would tear into it a few hours later. But this was ridiculous. Pillows were strewn about the floor, and your favorite vase of flowers was lying in a million pieces by the kitchen counter.

With Ellie nowhere to be seen, you approached your broken vase. While you were trying to collect some of the pieces, your bag slipped from your shoulder and caught on your hair. You cut your hand on a shard, letting out a yell of irritation as you slammed the bag away, rubbing a shaky hand against your forehead. Ellie heard your voice, stumbling into the room with her janky sort of walk, eyes trailed on you.

Before you could even take a minute to gather your scrambled thoughts, Ellie was all over you. Her bony arms circled your torso tightly, cooing in her attempts at a soft greeting. She pressed her face into your neck, but you were so hot and vexed that it just made you feel another flare of anger. Ellie found it difficult to differentiate your moods these days, she couldn't tell that you were on the brim of exploding.

You didn't mean to shove her, but when you did your blood ran cold. You couldn't believe that you'd done it, her fragile body hitting the ground with a thump and a pained groan. Some of the broken glass on the floor dug into her arm, little trickles of blood staining her pale skin. The pain was sudden, and like a frightened cat Ellie started to claw at the floorboards, her voice coming out in loud garbled tones. You quickly tried to quieten her down, it was difficult enough as it was to keep her hidden from her landlord.

"Shit- Els.. I'm sorry-.."

You tried to get at her bloodied arm, to make sure she was okay but she wouldn't let you near her. When you tried to grab onto her shoulder she writhed, digging her blunt nails into your arm and sending a searing sting of pain through your already hot flesh. You let another exasperated shout, trying to get her to detach herself from your skin. Ellie looked at you with those wild eyes, her thoughts running half a minute to try and comprehend what was happening, why it was happening. You couldn't deal with this, you couldn't deal with her right now.

Once you managed to get her off, you made a bee-line to the bedroom. You needed some sort of space before you a blew a casket against your girl. The lock clicked as you shut yourself off behind the door, ripping out jewellery and tying back your hair in and effort to cool down. Ellie clawed at the door, groans of fear and frustration at being unable to get to you fleeing her lips.

Ellie wasn't angry at you though.

There was still that little spark of her there, that semi-awareness that haunted her skin despite the lack of control that she had over her body. She hated how badly she was hurting you, how frustrated you got with her inabilities. You tried so hard to be patient with her, and it made her well up at how much of a burden she was. She couldn't help it when her grip forcefully tightened and she couldn't get the muscle to relax, or the flush of anger that came whenever you tried to leave her alone.

Her motor skills barely functioned anymore, even when she did try to clean her mess it often just made the mess worse. There where nights when you'd come home tired, or upset and she wanted nothing more to take care of you. She wanted to brush your hair with a gentle stroke and not a harsh tug, she wanted to make you smile like you did whenever she could muster a sentence. Ellie couldn't fathom why you were still here, why you stayed with her despite what she'd become. Her blunt and cracked nails continued to dig into the wooden door, hot tears now streaming down her discolored cheeks.

"Ph..s.. s-..rr..y.."

Ellie's voice was disjointed, the vowels clinging to her throat and refusing to make it any further. There were so many things that she needed to say, she knew you were hurting in there and it felt like she had no way to reach you. It broke what remained of her soft fleshy heart as she slowly retracted from the door. Her arm still stung from the broken glass, and with a huff she shuffled to the bathroom to try and rid any remaining shards from her skin.

After a few minutes of fumbling with unsteady fingers, it was all out. Ellie bent her shoulder awkwardly to rinse her marred arm under the cool tap. It dried quick, a surface wound that would only leave a few scratches. It was you that Ellie was worried about, locked away from her and with feelings that she probably couldn't comprehend even if she wanted to. She wanted to be good to you, to be the girl that she knew you deserved. Hearing you crying in the bedroom made her antsy, and she fought down the urge to force herself in.

Ellie staggered to the living room, eyes drifting upon your broken vase. It was an accident, she'd bumped against it earlier when she was trying to smell one of the flowers. Her crooked fingers twitched, and she tried with the best of her ability to clean it up with a small dustpan. Her jerky movements made the whole ordeal ten times more difficult, grunts of frustration leaving her maw every time her hand went in the wrong direction. She got everything up eventually, her heart fluttering with pride.

Ellie noticed one of the roses laying on the ground, crouching awkwardly to pick it up. She then glanced back over to you, shut away from her behind that wooden door. She felt that urge again, to claw and shout and drag you out, but she bit down on that thought as hard as she could. Instead she shuffled towards the bedroom, nudging her cheek against the door. She couldn't hear you crying anymore, that at least was a relief.

She slumped down onto the floor, her back against the wall as she traced the petals with her crooked finger. You had so much patience with her, every single day. Ellie wanted so badly to be patient for you too. She'd wait for you this time, until you were ready for her.

You'd managed to cool off after tying back your hair and taking long measured breaths. As you sat on the mattress, the tension slowly drifted from your shoulders. Your eyelashes fluttered open, gazing around. The bedroom was perfectly clean, something you hadn't noticed before. Your laundry was messily folded in lopsided piles on top of your drawers. Ellie knew you didn't like the mess, she tried to keep this space nice for you.

You felt another stain of guilt at the folded clothes and the sloppily made bed, knowing how hard this was for both of you. Still you could see how hard she was trying, and it was impossible for you to stay angry with her. You let out a few more deep breaths, stretching out your body with a sigh as you approached the pile of clothes. You stripped off your work pants and blouse, instead pulling on her old clothes and letting her scent cuddle you.

It was the not knowing, that was the worst thing about it all. She would continue to deteriorate, you assumed anyways. However, Ellie's transformation was so slow, so unpredictable. You had no idea if one morning you'd wake up and she'd be completely gone. It scared you, and you knew it scared her too. She was a hollowed out version of herself now, an Ellie with nothing but basic instincts and functions. It was her memories that had kept her warm, unbearably loveable. She still knew you, still knew that she loved you and that kept her present even in her hardest moments.

Your shoulders fell as you rolled them back into place, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment of peace. It was silent in the apartment now, and you couldn't help but spark a flicker of worry again. It made you feel uneasy when it was too quiet, because at least when she was loud and babbling you could locate her. Wanting to know what she was doing, you moved from the bed. Your nerves now settled.

As you reached for the doorknob, you caught ear of some gentle sniffling, a sound so soft it near broke your heart. The lamp light illuminated the hallway once you cracked open the door. Your eyes grew warm as you found Ellie, sitting on the cold floor and crying as quietly as she could into her calloused palms.

Oh Ellie.

You sunk to your knees beside her, slowly bringing a gentle hand over hers. Your other hand moved to those scruffy strands of hair, caressing the side of her head. It took some coaxing to get her to come back to you, but when she did lift her head, her dark eyes were wet with guilt and worry. Ellie fumbled with the rose she'd gotten, managing to get it up to your face with an apologetic murmur. She wanted to kiss you, but she couldn't. There was that risk now, that maybe she'd bite down on your lip or cheek by mistake.

You met her halfway, leaning down to smell the rose. The soft scent of the flower kissed your nose, making a gentle smile creep onto your lips. She was too sweet, and you adored her. You carefully took the rose from her grip, setting it aside. You brought her into a tight hug, mimicking the ones that she suffocates you with almost always. She responded well, immediately running her cold hands along your shoulders and hair as gentle as she could manage.

Ellie spoke a different language to you now, but it was one that you would never stop trying to learn.

[partygirlpiastri]

PRESS PLAY TO LISTEN ; IH6.

synopsis: A series of transcribed voicemails from your childhood best friend, Isack Hadjar.

trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Use of swear words in French and English; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Descriptions of car crashes; Descriptions of injuries; Suggestive remarks

a message from the author: This idea came to me just as I was falling asleep. I scribbled it down on a piece of paper (which was almost illegible), and I was thankfully able to craft a story from the “Voicemails, Isack, Best friend. . . More?” that I wrote.

VOICEMAIL 1.

Bonjour, Y/N. I know it is late, I don’t know why I am calling you this late. You should be asleep. If you aren’t. . .stop destroying your sleep schedule. Anyways, I am in Australia right now. As you know. Getting ready for the Grand Prix tomorrow. 

And I cannot breathe. It is everything I have worked for, everything I could ever want. But at the same time, everyone is watching me. Just earlier today I was walking down the street and two girls asked for a photograph. That’s never happened to me before. 

And I’m not exactly afraid of the attention, but I am. . .How do you put it? Je m'inquiète de ce qu'ils vont penser de moi. (Worried what they will think of me.) You will probably respond to this message and think I am so stupid. Who wouldn’t want to be famous, or whatever? And I’m not unhappy. I just want people to like me. I just want to make my parents proud.

I want to make you proud, Y/N. You’ve been to so many races. So many practices. And I forced you to go, you didn’t want to go at all. But you did it for me, and I want to show that it was worth it.

I am upset you could not fly in this weekend to watch me. I will try to get points. I want to get points. Imagine how incredible it would be, points at my first race. If I get points, you have to come next weekend. 

No, wait. You’re going anyway. Merde. (Shit.) I’m so tired. It’s almost five in the morning and I have barely slept. I have had so many nightmares about this. I’m trying to breathe, to meditate or whatever you told me to do. 

I’ll stop talking. Thank you for listening.

Au revoir, ma belle. (Goodbye, beautiful.) Talk to you later, hm?

VOICEMAIL 2.

You never pick up the phone when I call you. C'est ridicule ! (This is ridiculous.) I have so many things I want to talk to you about. Suzuka, I’ve heard stories about how hard it is, but it was so much harder than I expected. All those turns? I thought I was going to fly out of my seat.

And you couldn’t make it to the Grand Prix again. I am so angry with your university. Yes, you need an education. You’ve told me how important it is, and I agree. But it’s getting involved in our races. You told me you’d do anything for me. 

Well, come to a race. Prove it.

I miss you so much, Y/N. It’s been so long since I saw your face. 

Do not! I know you just opened your mouth. Je m'en fiche. (I don’t care.)

Three races in to the season, I want to talk to you. Call me whenever you can. The time differences are hard, but I will sleep late if I have to. You are more important. My best friend.

Oh! I also wanted to say, I listened to the song you wanted me to. The Sabrina Carpenter song. It was funny. Some of her lyrics were very. . .What is the word? Sexy. She is smart, like you. I put it on my pre-race playlist, so you might hear it blasting in my headphones before a race. If you ever come to one.

I talked to your father about the summer break trip to France. He said he is considering it if you pass your exams. If I have to help you in studying, I will. I want to spend time with you.

Putain. (Fuck.) They’re calling for me right now. Call me please!

VOICEMAIL 3.

Thank you for calling me last night. You don’t have to call me back, because I know you have an exam coming up for your organic chemistry class. I do not want to distract you. I only have a few minutes anyway, I am about to go in the car for the first practice session.

I hope you know that I am so proud of you for your hard work. We might not be in contact as much anymore, because of our schedules, but I am always here. You know too much.

My mother reminded me of that one time, when we were little – I let you practice makeup on me. You were, what, six? It was so bad. So much blush. But I laughed. And I kept it on the whole day. A little artist, you were. 

Honestly, I don’t know who else I would have let do that to me. You’re special.

I’ve asked you this a thousand times already, but it doesn’t hurt to say it again. Come to Miami. We can go to the beach. You can tan. Read books. Annoy me.

Whatever it takes for us to be together.

J'ai adoré te voir en Chine. Ma belle. (I loved seeing you in China. My beautiful girl.)

VOICEMAIL 4.

I cannot sleep. At all. I’ve tried. It’s — three in the morning. And I went to bed at ten. Don’t tell me to get off the phone and keep trying. It’s not working.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Before you yell at me or tell me to be quiet, I wanted to say. . . I know we are just friends. That we aren’t anything more than that. But I think about you a lot, I care about you more than a friend.

You don’t have to answer. In fact, this was a stupid thing to do. I’m sorry for bothering you.

VOICEMAIL 5.

I saw your post. You look stunning. Putain, I thought I was going to fall to my knees in the middle of the paddock. (Fuck.) That dress is too beautiful. That color, the blue-purple, whatever it is? You look absolutely stunning. I could not breathe.

And that caption? What you wrote?

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off.” Are you trying to kill me? Mon dieu. (My God.)

I can’t wait to see you later this week. Bring that dress. We can do what you wrote. Please, ma belle. (Beautiful.)

I will call you again, later. When you are free. I love you.

Mwah.

Bye.

VOICEMAIL 6.

Dinner was fun with you. Even though you were nervous. You thought that they would kill us, but no! I cannot believe we told your parents that we are together. And they all said, “Finally.” Are we that ignorant? Two idiots in love?

Je sais que je le suis. (I know I am.) Every time I see you, I am worried that you will realize what a fool I am. How utterly in love I am with you.

Since we were eight. Can you believe that? I have loved you, ma belle, since we were eight years old. And it has taken me thirteen years to say something about it. (Beautiful.)

Mon dieu. Thank you for loving me back. (My God.)

Credits: Dividers — @thecutestgrotto

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 3

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: ~2.4k

cw: angst but not too bad this time, flirty/playful Zayne, after that he freaks out though and doesn’t speak much, reader questions her place and existence, talks of destiny, low self esteem honestly, idk if i like this part; not proofread

Synopsis: You’re trying to find your footing, but after a week in this new world, you’re still realizing just how different it is. Luckily (or maybe not so luckily?), you become distracted as Em invites her dear doctor friend over.

author’s note: I’m loving this series, it’s giving me so much inspiration! But I’m updating this way faster than I initially intended so I’m not really proofreading so I’m sorry if its not great :( ANYWAY I’m kind of figuring out where I want to go with it from here, but right now I’m just focusing on introducing each Love Interest. Writing playful Zayne is so fun, i wanna squish him :(

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail (I hope I got everyone!)

Series Masterlist

“What are you reading?” Em’s voice broke through your focus.

You glanced up at her through your lashes from your place cuddled up on the couch. You were sat near the window to take advantage of the sunlight, but now you could barely see Em’s face through the glare. You shifted slightly, the blanket wrapped around you nearly falling.

“Frankenstein,” you answered shortly, looking back to your book. You didn’t mean to come off as rude, but Em was very talkative all of the time and you weren’t close enough to maintain that. You needed some time to recharge, and Em was interrupting it.

Her brows drew together and she leaned closer to you, staring at the book cover. “What’s that?”

You looked back up at her incredulously, keeping your place with your hand. “You’ve… never heard of Frankenstein?”

Em shook her head with a frown. “Is that weird?” She asked.

“Frankenstein? By Mary Shelley? You know, the really influential and famous horror and science fiction book?” When met with another shake of the head, you let out a laugh in disbelief. “I mean, I get not knowing the plot, but not knowing the whole book…?”

Another laugh from you, and Em was pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Hold on, let me search it up…” A few moments pass filled with only the tapping of Em’s nails against the screen. Her frown only deepened as she continued to scroll. “There’s nothing here about Frankenstein or any Mary Shelley.” She looked back up at you curiously. “Where exactly did you get that book?”

You stood up, your blanket falling to the floor, Frankenstein forgotten on the arm of the couch. You yanked Em’s phone from her hand, scrolling through it with wide eyes. “That can’t be true,” you muttered.

Em was right, though. There was no sign of Frankenstein in this world. All that showed up was ‘Did you mean:’ posts and similar names, but no direct matches.

How could that be?

What else was different in this world?

If there was no Frankenstein, then what else that you knew so familiarly was forgotten?

You knew there would be some differences in the world of Love and Deepspace, but you’d thought you could adapt. Now, though, it felt like you were floundering. There were more differences than similarities, and you had no idea how to deal with it.

You had no idea who you were supposed to be.

“Are you alright?” Em’s hand come on your shoulder. “You look really pale.”

You took a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m alright. I just feel a little light-headed, but it’s nothing.”

“Have you eaten today?” She chastised, already knowing the answer.

“No,” you admitted sheepishly.

Em sighed, already moving into the kitchen. “Sometimes I wonder how you lived before we moved in together. What do you do when I’m gone on missions? Do you just starve until I get back?” She moved around the kitchen efficiently, pulling foods and plates out of cabinets that you didn’t even know existed.

You really needed to learn your way around this apartment.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself,” you laughed.

“Oh, really?” Em raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

You went quiet at that. How were you supposed to respond? She was right, of course. Em was perceptible when it mattered. You had just never had someone to take notice of it and do something before.

How are you supposed to act when you’re being taken care of?

When someone you’ve only known for a week is putting in more effort than friends you’d known for a year.

You took the plate she handed you, muttering a quiet thanks that Em waved off.

Em carefully watched you chew, not interrupting you until you were about halfway through your plate.

“Would you mind if one of my friends came over?” She asked suddenly, eyes trained on your face for a reaction.

You stopped chewing, staring up at her. After quickly swallowing, you sighed. “Is it Tara? Because as much as I love her I don’t think I can—”

“No, it’s not Tara,” Em chuckled. “I wouldn’t ask her over today, I know you’re tired and she can be a lot. This friend of mine, though…” She looked at you hopefully. “He’s really quiet. Kind of similar to you, actually. He can be a little intimidating when you first meet him, but he’s really sweet!” Em stared at you expectantly.

“I’m not completely opposed,” you began, catching sight of Em’s excited smile. “But I’m not sold on the idea either!” You said quickly. “What friend is this?”

Em’s smile didn’t dim. “It’s my friend Zayne.”

A methodical knock on the door had Em springing from her seat next to you and smoothing down her shirt. You put your bookmark in Frankenstein, setting it on the table next to you. You nervously shifted on the couch, not wanting to greet Zayne at the door.

After what happened with Xavier, who knows what could happen with Zayne?

You weren’t really sure what was happening now that you were here, and you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to find out. Were you a problem? Disrupting the plot, distracting the budding romances, keeping Em away from her destiny?

What even was her destiny?

What was your destiny?

If you really were a part of this plot, a part of this world, and someone so close to Em, why hadn’t you been mentioned?

Practiced footsteps brought your gaze up, immediately finding a familiar pair of green eyes. You stood, leaving your blanket discarded on the couch as you offered your outstretched hand.

Zayne took it, a ghost of a smile spreading on his lips as he shook it. “So formal,” he chuckled.

“It’s out first time meeting,” you shrugged. “Isn’t this what you do when you meet new people?”

“I suppose, but I’ve shaken enough hands at the hospital. I’d like to greet you as a friend would.” He gave you a light smile. “How exactly would you do that? I’m afraid I haven’t had much experience in friendship,” he admitted.

As a friend? The stoic Doctor Zayne joking around and wanting to be your friend?

What was going on?

“I don’t know,” you muttered. “Whenever I see my friends, I usually just hug them.” You watched as the very tips of Zayne’s ears turned a fiery pink.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t suppose we’re close enough for that yet.”

“I’m so glad you you guys are getting along!” Em said, oblivious to the slight tension between you and the doctor. “I was worried since you both are kind of awkward.” She laughed brightly.

“Yes, well, I wanted to…” Zayne hesitated as he looked back to you. “I wanted to make a good impression on your friends. I would hate to be disliked by someone close to you.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to dislike you,” you chuckled. Zayne stared at you with wide eyes, causing heat to rise to your own cheeks. “I only mean because you’re so polite and funny,” you explained hastily.

Zayne looked away, a grin growing on his face. “There aren’t many who would consider me funny. Even Em has said I’m too serious.”

“It’s because you are!” She said accusatorially before stepping over to your side as if that would make you easy to convince. “He’s been like this ever since we were kids! Other kids were out, running in the streets and playing tag, and he was inside huddled up with a book!”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it!” You said, walking over to Zayne. You leaned in close, whispering, “I was that kid, too. It’s not a bad thing to go against the status quo sometimes.”

He gave you a smile filled with relief. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone say that to me, or agree with my childhood decisions.”

You shrugged. “I don’t see why it’s an issue. Everyone wants you to express yourself, but then they get mad if you don’t do it the way they want.” You looked at him, searching his eyes. “At the end of the day, I think you just have to accept that you’re not going to please everyone. And it’s not your job to, either. Everyone has their own opinions and decisions to make, and I think you just need to do what makes you happy, instead of what makes other people happy.”

Zayne was silent for a moment. “Very wise words,” he murmured. “I suppose it is easy to neglect one’s own happiness in the pursuit of satisfying another’s.”

You nudged him with your shoulder, a playful smile growing on your face. “It’s alright to be a people pleaser, Doctor Zayne. Just don’t forget yourself.”

Em cleared her throat, earning her attention from you and Zayne. “Listen, this is all very sweet, but it’s also boring.” She made a face, scrunching her nose. “You guys can have your little therapy session later, but right now, I wanna do something. Can we play a game?” Em bounced lightly on her feet.

Zayne chuckled. “This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve called me a bore. What would you like to play?” Em put her hand on her chin, pretending to think on the question. “Not Kitty Cards, I hope.”

“No!” Em said quickly. When you snickered, a blush painted her cheeks. “I just mean, we’ve been playing so much lately. I’m sure you don’t want to play again.”

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you certain it’s not because of your recent losing streak?”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “Let’s not be too mean. She is our friend, after all.”

He hummed, trying to hide his grin. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Why don’t we play that new game you just got?” you offered, looking to Em. “The one with the snowmen?”

Em made a squeak of excitement before scrambling over to her game console.

Zayne stared at you, his posture suddenly stiffening before it seemed like he reminded himself to relax. “Have we… met before?” He asked you.

You shook your head. “No, we haven’t.” You cocked your head. “Why?”

He shook his head softly. “It’s nothing.” When your gaze persisted, he sighed. “You just seem familiar somehow. Like I’ve known you somewhere.” The words caught in his throat, and his next sentence came out barely as a whisper. “Like I’ve loved you before.”

You gaped at him, unsure if you had even heard him correctly, before Em walked over and swept you both into the living room to all play her new game together. Em gripped your arm as she situated you right next to her, exclaiming something about how you two needed to stick together and beat Zayne.

You watched the hesitation on Zayne’s face as he saw the places left to sit. He considered simply sitting on the floor, but he ended up taking the seat next to you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Not many words were spoken after that. Zayne’s posture returned to that of the Doctor, prim and proper. Em carried most of the conversation, and the few answers Zayne gave were short and clipped.

You glanced at Zayne during one of the loading screens, only for him to avoid your gaze.

Did he figure out you didn’t belong here?

It was dark by the time Zayne left, offering you a curt nod as he said goodbye. You and Em straightened up the apartment in silence, feeling the fatigue from the week and aching for sleep.

Once the room was presentable, Em led you to sit on the couch, with her sitting opposite you on the small coffee table. She looked away from you, rubbing her thighs with her palms.

She did that because you did that.

There was nothing about the MC rubbing her thighs when she was nervous before, but you’d been doing it for years.

What other traits or habits of yours were now Em’s?

“Can you tell me something?” She asked, looking up at you with downturned lips. Already expecting this, you nodded. She took a deep breath. “Did something happen between you and Zayne? Because he was really relaxed when he first came over, but then he started acting like how he acts in public and I just wanted to know if you maybe said something?” Em winced as she finished.

“I don’t think I said anything weird,” you shrugged. Now was not the time to tell her what he’d said, you thought. Not that there would ever be a good time, but maybe you wouldn’t have to tell her. Maybe the story would progress as it was supposed to. They would all love her, she would take her pick, and leave the others heartbroken.

And you would simply fade into the background.

Isn’t that what you were supposed to do?

Just be a plot device here and there, not have a Love Interest think he’s loved you before.

How did he expect you to react, anyway?

“That’s weird.” A pout grew on her face. “I wonder what freaked him out.”

Probably the fact that he acknowledged connection with someone other than you, you thought.

He wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to.

He wasn’t supposed to.

You repeated the mantra in your head, trying to make yourself believe it.

This girl in front of you is the one he’s defied gods for, so who are you to get in between that?

She was the one that the story was about, not you. You weren’t even supposed to be here.

Would you be able to get back home?

Did you want to?

Maybe you could live here. Stay here. Carve out a life here.

Maybe you could find your own happy ending.

You shook your head.

You are not the priority protagonist.

You are an aid, a secondary character, a plot device. Someone to fade away.

What would happen if you went against that?

All you needed to do was help Em find her happy ending, and pray it doesn’t lead to your own downfall.

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