#Armed Forces Insurance

[deer-trees]

The United States privatized healthcare system is a separate circle of hell you have to go to before you die

[inkskinned]

it's extremely critical that you see the photo of the perp walk for luigi mangione as being propaganda. i've seen so many people wave it off and instead fawn over his looks. and trust me, i know it ended up being kind of pathetic and weird - but please don't brush it off as a "modelling opportunity" for him. it's a fucking terrifying message the police are sending.

i want to make a few comparisons here, in case you're not from the US or familiar with why the perp walk thing is something to pay attention to. just to set the groundwork for why this is a purposeful, unusual, and cruel act by the nyc police - for why this is not a common occurrence and for why that matters.

the prosecution alleges the show of force is due to the charge of "terrorism." for comparison, in june 2015, tsarnaev was found guilty for the boston marathon bombing, which killed 3 people and injured hundreds. his actions are considered to be an act of domestic terrorism. i have spent the last hour looking through google for pictures of similar to mangione's perp walk - and so far, i have found zero. i also just do not personally remember a moment like that, despite living in boston at the time.

they allege that luigi is a stone-cold killer who carried out a longterm plan, making him particularly dangerous. again for comparison: in nyc, recently cory martin was found guilty of the killing of brandy odom. the murder was planned and premeditated to steal insurance money. and yet no staged perp walk. why didn't her life matter enough for a "show of force"?

but mangione gets paraded by a veritable army of police officers as if he is a rabid animal. for a single citizen who allegedly killed one other single citizen, the "largest perp walk ever" occurs.

so what is the "strong message" that the mayor and the police were trying to send here? the mayor speaks as if mangione is already convicted of terrorism. there is a very thin number of people who feel threatened by the CEO's death. none of us felt like mangione needs to be under massive armed guard.

the message is that you shouldn't resist. they are trying to "make an example" of him - that if you behave badly and kill a single rich person, you'll be treated as if you killed hundreds of people. you will be treated worse than a man who was found guilty of terrorism. you will be considered guilty without trial. the message is that the rich are a protected class, and you cannot touch them without massive punishment. they are trying to prevent a revolution by showing dominance and force against you.

the message is that the police are a puppet of the wealthy and that the law is not equally applied across class disparity. it is "some are more equal than others." it is "one life is more precious than another."

the show of force wasn't for luigi. it was for us. it was a warning. they are trying to remind us who is really in control.

[stargirlygirl]

you smash zayne's car (on accident)

zayne x fem!reader

summary: coming home from a long day at work, you get into a minor car accident with your bf's audi

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, swearing, zayne being the best bf, 1.6k words

It happened in the blink of an eye. You were driving along the highway one moment, exhausted after a long day at the Association. Your music was blasting, and the other cars were well-behaved. Until suddenly, the car in front of you braked. Your tired brain didn’t react fast enough, and you skidded into them. The sickening crunch made you scream, your body jolting forward and back as your vehicle came to a stop.

You mumbled to yourself repeatedly, “Oh my God,” as you put the car in reverse and backed up a few inches. Slowly, you swerved to the resting bay on the side, the other car following suit. Your heart raced, and the blood rushed in your ears over the buzzing song. After grabbing your wallet, you exited Zayne’s now battered black Audi to check the hit.

And oh fuck—

The front panel was dislocated, the bonnet scrunched, and the headlights were scratched. The other driver came up beside you, a middle-aged man a few feet taller than you with a balding patch. Your hands trembled as you exchanged licenses and took photos of your damaged vehicles. You stumbled over your words, apologising before questioning why he had stopped so suddenly. A stray cat, he said. Bullshit. On this motorway? You don’t think so.

But it didn’t matter, you’ve got dash cam footage that will show if any ‘stray cat’ darted across the road. With a forced smile, you reassured him that you’d contact your insurance company tomorrow to lodge a claim.

Crouched down beside Zayne’s car, you had beaten the popped-off panel back into place beneath the headlights before driving off with a pit in your stomach. The ride home was filled with you chattering to yourself, trying to process what just happened and how you were going to explain it to your boyfriend.

“One day!” You shouted at yourself while pulling into the apartment’s underground parking. “He let you drive his car for one fucking day and you already smashed it?! Are you kidding me?!” You slumped over the wheel after parking, groaning to yourself about how reckless you were.

And now, you stand outside your shared apartment playing with your keys. They make a hell of a racket, but fiddling calms your nerves. Or at least, it attempts to.

Exhaling, you go to unlock the front door, but it swings open. In front of you stands your boyfriend, a microscopic frown on his face as he gazes down at you.

“Heyyy,” you laugh nervously. Internally, you’re groaning at yourself for already acting weird. He’s gonna know!

Zayne stares at you, analysing your dark under eyes paired with the frantic look you’re giving him. He steps aside and nods for you to come in. As you step past the threshold, you’re greeted with the wafting scent of jasmine.

He takes your handbag from you and helps you out of your coat, saying quietly, “Is everything okay?”

You nod far too enthusiastically, muttering, “Yes! Everything’s fine, really.”

He trails behind you to the bedroom as he comments, “You were standing outside for almost five minutes. I didn’t think you were going to come in.” You whip around, your shirt half-unbuttoned as you stare at him.

Oh, he definitely knows.

You watch with dread as he hangs your coat and sets your bag down almost robotically before coming back over to you.

Zayne unbuttons the rest of your shirt, not meeting your wild eyes as he reminds you, “You don’t have to tell me, but it usually helps to alleviate some of the burden by sharing it with others.” His chest ghosts yours as he pulls the sweaty blouse off your arms, leaving you in your bra. You cup his cheeks and tilt his gaze up to you. He stares at you with slightly wide eyes, caught off guard by your sudden touch.

You sigh, “Zayne… I’m sorry.” His cool hands wrap around your wrists and unleash rogue goosebumps across your skin as he waits for you to continue.

You mumble, “I accidentally rear-ended someone on the highway.” Your boyfriend blinks at you, processing your words.

You ramble, “It was an accident, I swear! He just stopped in the middle of the road! And so, yea I hit him. I’m really sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to!” He shakes his head, averting his gaze momentarily as he gets a grip on all this new information. His fingers tighten around your wrists for a moment before he tugs your arms down to your sides.

Finding your eyes once more, he asks clinically, “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m fine! It’s just… your car—”

“Don’t worry about the car,” he huffs. Zayne squeezes your shoulders before rubbing up and down your upper arms.

He continues, “You’re sure you’re not hurt? Did you hit your head during the moment of impact?”

“No. I was just scared, that’s all,” you admit quietly. He exhales and brings you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your forehead.

He murmurs, “I’m sure you were. I should have warned you about the short acceleration times.”

You squish your face into his warm chest, mumbling into his white long-sleeve shirt, “It’s not your fault, baby. Please don’t blame yourself.” You sigh with relief as he pats your head, fingertips pressing lightly into your scalp as he runs his fingers through your locks.

You two embrace for what feels like an eternity, but even that isn’t enough time. All you want is to be surrounded by his heat and refreshing musk after such a challenging day (not to mention you’re on your period). He pulls back, his hands on your waist as he gazes down at you with affectionate eyes.

He says tenderly, “Why don’t you go have a shower while I assess the damage?” You nod and sigh as he pecks your lips.

“Don’t be gone too long, okay?” You pout as he grabs the doorknob.

Casting you a glance, he shakes his head slightly, “I won’t.” You huff as you hear the faint click of the front door and wrap your arms around your now cold chest before trudging into the bathroom.

After a nice, hot shower, you put on your favourite pyjama set and do your skincare routine. Once you’re feeling relaxed, you stroll into the living room.

On the couch is your boyfriend, flicking through his camera roll. Two mugs of steaming tea sit on the coffee table. He locks his phone upon feeling your weight dip next to him. Placing it down and grabbing the mugs, he hands you one and doesn’t let go until it’s firmly planted between your palms.

“It’s chamomile,” he murmurs. You hum as you blow the curling tendrils of steam away. As soon as you stop, they whip back into a whirlpool of opaque white.

Clearing his throat, your boyfriend utters, “The damage is mild.”

“Mild?!” You retort. “It’s awful! Did you see the bonnet?”

He nods, “Yes, I saw.” Setting his mug down, he wraps a muscular arm around your shoulders and draws you into his side.

He mumbles into your hair, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” You sip your tea, the bittersweet flavour warming your insides. Zayne unfolds the fluffy blanket you bought a few weeks ago and throws it across you two, helping you to get comfy.

You sigh as you lower the mug to your lap, “I just feel so bad like. You trusted me with your expensive ass car and I ruined it.” His fingertips draw swirling patterns across your clothed shoulder, up and over the ridge of your collarbone and down to the meat of your arm.

“It’s nothing we can’t fix. Leave it with me. I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow and lodge a claim,” he mutters. Softly, he continues, “You can spend tonight collecting your thoughts.” You nod while slurping your tea.

After finishing it, Zayne takes your mug from your toasty hands and puts it down on the coffee table. Instinctively, you cuddle his side and cling onto his torso like you’re a koala and he’s an eucalyptus branch. The day weighs heavily on your shoulders, and in the comfort of your lover’s arms, you let it go.

He doesn’t say anything as you begin sniffling and eventually cry into his chest. Composed as ever, he rubs your back and pulls the blanket up to your chin. He fetches you a tissue box and holds it as you blow your nose like a snotty five-year-old.

In the torrent of your emotional storm, Zayne remains steady. He anchors you back to the present with gentle reassurances and even gentler caresses. He holds your hands whenever you try to rub your eyes and instead wipes them for you. And he whisks you away to your bathroom, still wrapped in the blanket and his warmth, to brush your teeth before tucking you into bed and spooning with you.

The next morning, he informs Jenna that you’ll be having the day off; doctor’s orders. He then calls the insurance company and recites to them the story you sobbed out last night.

You wake up to breakfast in bed and a quick peck from Zayne before he heads off to the hospital. He cooked your favourite comfort meal, which makes you tear up as you blow him goodbye kisses.

And when you pick up the rental car a few days later, he insists on driving you everywhere. Because he’s a good boyfriend, not because he’s concerned about your driving skills at all. Seriously.

a/n: pls lmk if his characterisation is okay. i got into my first car accident yesterday and this how i wished it went down when i got home (i live with my parents😀).

[chantal0]

10 things I hate about you ⋆˚꩜｡ hockey player! gojo x alt! reader

pt. 1/2

pairing ｡𖦹°‧ college au - hockey player! gojo x reader

summary : getting accepted into one of the ivy league universities was supposed to be you getting the best education you could get, not the centerpiece of a bet created by none other than the hockey team, the players challenge satoru that he can't make you fall for him in 10 days in which he allows his pride take over to go out of his way to take on the bet thinking it would be easy. what he didn't expect was to fall for you instead, but after you find out his ulterior motives, your trust in him shatters and so does his heart. now with the truth out, he is now more determined than ever to get you back, but this time, he isn't playing games.

warnings/tags .ᐟ.ᐟ fluff, angst, brief smut, college au, this fic is based on the film '10 things I hate about you', partial angst with readers father regarding sickness, reader is low income.

wc . 10k

a/n ꪆৎ this is a rewrite of one of my old fics, so you might recognize some scenes that I reused. remembered I wrote it after rewatching 10 things I hate about you. if you see any typos, ignore them. out of sight out of mind. song for this fic : no one noticed by the marias.

transferring from a community college to one of the top 10 universities was a huge step for you. you weren't even sure how you did it. but those two years of attending your local community college that wasn't even ten minutes away from your house paid off. one that made you feel ashamed in going since it felt like a detour from your actual goals.

growing up, you promised your family members that they'd see you majoring in the best schools and in becoming something they would be proud of to call a daughter. thats why you studied so hard in grade school, getting the best grades not allowing them to go below an 85%. but after your mother left shortly after your father got diagnosed with cancer. your dreams had to take a backseat to allow you to become the backbone of your family that consisted of you, your father, and your two younger brothers.

money came in short with your minimum paying job and it just wasn't enough to pay off any college funds. your brother who just turned sixteen always helped you out with groceries and bills now that your father retired from his job, after you forced him to, making sure he was taken care of at all times. hospital bills were also pricey, sometimes your insurance wouldn't cover all the costs and they had to be paid directly from your personal money.

so after applying to yale and actually receiving an acceptance letter in the mail a week after had you trembling in both excitement and fear. you were happy you could finally get the education you've been longing for, but on the other hand you wouldn't want to leave all the responsibility to your brother. he disagreed and encouraged your dreams instead when you sat him down to talk.

"y/n you've always been wanting to go to university. im sixteen now, im not the ten year old you know anymore, I am more than willing to take care after dad and matt."

you let out a sigh as you averted your gaze back down to the letter in your hands. the bold lettering called out your name and you tried to resist. but you couldn't.

"anything happens, you call me immediately." you firmly ordered. the pink haired boy chuckled, the corner of his lips lifted up as well as the corners of his eyes wrinkled before nodding. "got it."

thats how you found yourself packing the last bit of your shirts. no matter how hard you tried to, you just couldn't help the bit of tears that spilled from your eyes. you paused, letting out a shaky breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around your waist. you looked down to see the soft face of your brother, Matt.

"sissy dont cry. me papa and yuji will be okay!" he promised.

you knelt down to wrap your arms around him as well, holding onto the warmth you were going to leave behind in a few hours. then, another pair wrapped around you both, a much stronger set of arms, then another, your fathers, who was weaker than before but still full of love. before you knew it, your whole family was cuddling together in the comfort of your own room.

no words were exchanged for a few minutes.

"ill miss those blueberry pancakes you make" your father whispered, making everyone giggle. you raised your head up, propping it on top of matt.

"ill leave the recipe for you guys."

your father placed a small delicate peck on your forehead.

airports were your least favorite method of transportation. you couldn't handle hearing the incoherent voice in the speakers call out the plane that was about to board in twenty minutes, or the panicked looks on peoples faces when they realize they booked the wrong flight, or the people just in general, so many people. the whole process was messy and annoying.

your family walked you to where the escalators headed up to your gate. with a sigh, you turned to face them watching as they held back tears. "ill miss you guys." a beat passed. then another. and you found yourself in another family hug.

it was still weird with the missing pair of warm arms that belonged to your mother. but looking back, maybe they weren't warm at all. they were always cold and empty whenever you hugged her. you reminded yourself that she left willingly. you quickly pushed those negative thoughts behind, not wanting to think about her when you had the next best four years of your life right ahead of you.

"call me if you need anything." you said with your voice more steady.

your father nodded before everyone let go at the sound of the speakers calling out your gate number. with one final look and a last goodbye, you stood on the escalators holding back tears of your own.

if the process of checking into the airport wasn't annoying enough, the next five hours boarding the plane itself would be. the man snoring next to you couldn't be any louder, the baby crying behind you wouldn't shut up, and the women gossiping in front of you was the only source of entertainment you could get.

but it all came to this. yale. the beautiful sight of the university's campus. you took it all in, seeing how students walked in with luggages or boxes of their own with the assistance of their parents or friends.

the sun casted a glow on the building itself making it appear straight out of a movie. you stood there for a moment, continuing to take it all in before your main character moment was interrupted by someone bumping into you.

he had white hair that resembled snow itself. he stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. the boys behind him that you figured were his friends laughed at the sight.

"oh uh sorry." he quickly apologized, glancing your way smiling like he meant the entire opposite of his apology before playfully nudging his friend as they continued making their way into the building. you blinked, continuing to watch as he disappeared. he was oddly.. beautiful.

after picking up a few papers form the directory, you followed the directions on the map to where the dormitories were located. you found out that you would be sharing your dorm with a roommate, you didn't mind as you saw this as an opportunity to make your very first friend.

and you were right because the second you twisted the door knob, not fully getting to turn it around before it swung open on its own, introducing a rather tall girl with the prettiest aesthetic and the sweetest smile plastered on her face that comforted you in ways you didn't know you needed.

"hi! I'm miwa!" the girl said in which you returned her greeting with your name. she moved to the side allowing you to step in. you took in the large room. it looks like she already has claimed her part of the room on the left side. band and show posters plastered all over her walls neatly with stuffed animals lying peacefully on her bed. it reminded you fondly of matt recalling how he has millions of plushies on his bed.

"need some help with that?" she pointed at your suitcases. you hesitated at first not wanting to bother her but it wouldn't hurt, right? "yes please." you chuckled which made her grin.

"great, roommate bonding begins now!"

hours pass by full of cleaning and organizing and chatter between you and the blue haired girl. you found out that she's been here for the past two years and you explained to her that you were a transfer. somewhere in between hanging fairy lights and folding blankets, she let it slip that she's crushing on a boy that is on the hockey team.

"didn't know they had a hockey team here." you said as you placed the last piece of clothing in the closet provided by the school. miwa gasped dramatically. "okay now I need to take you out to watch a game sometime!"

she flopped down onto your bed next to you. "its like an essential yale culture."

"deal. i'd like to see how good looking this boy you claim is the most handsome boy in all of yale to exist really is."

"he is!"

the first day of school wasn't until next week, yet you could already feel the nerves setting in as well as the homesickness. you pulled out your phone, dimming the brightness now that miwa was asleep and all the lights were turned off. pressing on yujis contact you sent him a message.

you || 9:04 P.M

everything alright?

yuji || 9:10 P.M

everything's great

you let out a sigh of relief at his words.

the first day was full of chaos, at least for you. you woke up a bit late after your alarm failed to do its job, you lost your map that showed the entire campus, and on top of that you had no idea what to wear.

after brushing your teeth and washing your face, you quickly slipped on a pair of pants and a cute top before rushing out of your dorm all while brushing your hair. you made it on time thankfully, but you surely learned your lesson to set your alarm to full volume.

your classes finally came to an end and you dragged your tired body that was aching from carrying all the syllabus and textbooks in your bag towards your dorm. miwa was already there scrolling through her phone.

"oh hey!," she flinched as she took a closer look at you. "you look rough"

you placed your bag down on the floor before flopping on your bed. "I am rough" you said with a grumble. she moved from her bed towards yours. "hey lighten up, tomorrow will be better. its the second day of school and the first hockey game"

"already?"

"yeah. since its the same previous team as last year versus some other school. coach said he wanted to kick off this season early for some reason. im not complaining, I get to see kokichi!"

"oh right your man" you teased which made her chubby pale cheeks turn a light pink shade before she bolted towards her closet pulling out two tops. "okay so which one says 'hey cute hockey player over there! wanna go out with me?'"

you burst out laughing before pointing at the one on the right hand. "that one, definitely that one."

you were never the type of person to enjoy sports. your brothers and dad enjoyed them though. they always connected both the couches together and gathered a bunch of blankets and snacks whenever a big game came up. now you are here witnessing one happen right in front of you, not on a screen.

you pulled out your phone to snap a picture to send to the family group chat. one you created after you had to delete the previous one with your mother in it. you angled the phone carefully, snapping a picture of the players already spread out ready to kick off the game.

you stared at your screen for a second before sending the message to the group chat. the second you sent it, the announcer's voice came to the speakers and the crowd erupted.

"there he is!" miwa squealed as she pointed at the dark haired boy, kokichi. he was rather attractive and you could see why she liked him. they definitely would make a cute couple. he was walking with a friend who had white hair. your eyes squinted as you looked a bit closer.

it was the same boy who bumped into you a week ago. his white locks were messy and he had a grin plastered over his face. it seemed that he was popular with the girls because they went wild at the sight of him.

you were interrupted from your thoughts when miwa's elbow made contact with your shoulder. "look, he waved at me!"

your eyes traced back to kokichi. "yeah, I saw." but your eyes kept wandering back to the boy with white hair. number ten. you watched as he placed his helmet on and slid across the rink to get into position.

a buzzer sounded across the arena, putting the game to a start and sending the crowd into a loud roar. you sat a bit straighter as you tried to keep track of the hockey puck. all the players were a blur of white and blue as they slid through the ice rink.

number 10 was sharp.

he was focused and quick, weaving through the other players. he stole the puck clean with a swift movement of his stick, gliding towards the opposite teams net. the air was thick with anticipation and it seemed that the entire arena was holding it's breath, and you didn't realize that you were holding yours as well.

then he hit it straight into the back of the cage with a satisfying clank.

applause echoed and so did the screams of the players' name.

satoru.

he rushed to his teammates doing a small celebration before continuing the game. maybe hockey wasn't too bad.

the game ended as soon as the buzzer could be heard, with your school winning. people made their way towards the exit or down to the rink. the hockey cheerleaders, glittering with their tiny ass skirts, made their way to their boyfriends who were players.

but most of them?

they went to satoru, congratulating him like he had just saved the world itself from an apocalypse. his hands reached to take off his gear, forehead dripping with a thin layer of sweat.

"im gonna go talk to kokichi." miwa said as she stood up from the bleacher already feeling the nerves settling down her stomach. you nodded, following her. she wrapped her arms around the boy, a hug in which he returned as well.

"thanks for coming." he said in a low voice placing his lips on hers practically melting the poor girl setting her rosacea on fire. you stood there a bit awkward not realizing that a pair of eyes was placed on your figure.

"hey, is she new?" a player asked his friends, pointing directly at you.

the other boy shrugged. "I guess, never seen her before." he turned to satoru who was busy untying the shoelaces of his skates, whistling at him. "yo satoru! remember when you were whining about not having any other girl to crack?"

satoru's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a bit before he approached his friend. "yeah, what about it?" the guy grinned, jerking his chin toward the bleachers.

"what about her?"

he could barely see you due to his poor eyesight now that he had taken off his contacts. he saw you with a girl he knew was in a situationship with kokichi, his friend. "who the hell is that?"

"she's new. go after her."

satoru grumbled. "she looks like a total loner." his friend shrugged, untying his long black hair. "you like a challenge though, don't you?" he tossed his stick into his bag. "ten days. thats the bet"

"woah we're making this a bet?" satoru raised his eyebrow. there was a beat of silence, long enough to make him think this through. it's been a while since he's been laid, not wanting to continue the life of being a frat boy and a 'play boy.' he really just wanted to focus on his studies and hockey as well, if he found a girl somewhere throughout that then he'd settle down.

he grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip from it. "ten days." he repeated, mostly to himself. "suguru I don't know-"

"you backing out?" suguru questioned, wanting to stir something.

no matter how much he wanted to resist, he just couldn't because no matter how much he swore that he stopped doing that shit, he missed it just a bit. "fine, ten days."

his jaw was tightened watching as his friend smirked. the group chuckled a bit, like it was just another 'harmless' game. satoru glanced at you.

pretty.

you and miwa made your way to the exit after the little make-out session with her now new boyfriend. she kept squealing about how she couldn't believe she finally got together with him. you were incredibly happy for the both of them.

"he kissed me! like he actually kissed me! I thought I was going to pass out!"

satoru debated, standing still for a moment. you were a step away from leaving, your arm wrapped around your friends, chattering about whatever. part of him wanted to plan this through, something smoother than just..

"fuck it." he mumbled.

his legs moved before his brain ordered them to. "hey-" he called out, jogging a bit to fully reach you. you turned slowly, miwa did too with her eyebrows furrowed. he realized that maybe this wasn't the best option. his lips parted a bit before continuing.

"uh.." he scratched the back of his neck. "you dropped something."

you stared at him in confusion. "no I didn't.." you looked down to confirm that you in fact, didn't drop any item.

"right uhm, that was supposed to be my opening line" he cursed at himself, but it made you chuckle. satoru was dorky, you thought. he had an uneven smile before he looked back at you.

"im satoru"

"I know" you felt like everyone in this damn school knew who he was. "oh im y/n." you quickly introduced yourself after the small pause. for some reason, satoru didn't feel like this was the beginning of a bet he agreed to, but a beginning for something he wasn't ready for.

"go out with me."

miwa snapped her head so fast towards you, you could have sworn you heard a crack. you blinked at satoru, unsure if you heard him right.

"what?"

"go out with me, please." he repeated confident just like the first time. you weren't entirely convinced. "is this a joke?" satoru froze. of course this was a joke. he always played around with random girls so why did it make him feel guilty this time.

"no. I want you, pretty." he smiled softly, showing off his pearly whites that could have any girl soaking her panties in under 10 seconds.

you could feel miwa vibrating next to you, begging you to say yes, or at least something. "I think i'll pass." you mumbled, not unkindly just firm enough to make your point, staring at him for a bit before turning your heel to leave with miwa who now had a disappointed look on her face.

"whyyy?" she whined.

a grunt left satoru's lips. "I can take you out somewhere, anywhere! real nice places sweetheart!"

"like the 7/11 in broadway?" you shot back. he froze before chuckling a genuine laugh, shaking his head. "even better!"

the corner of your lips tugged up a smile as you giggled with miwa at his advances as you both left.

"well look at you missy, pulling mr captain of the hockey team."

"im just that good." you continued to hold your smile, not letting it drop.

and neither did he.

every night at eight, you'd have a video call with your family, just to make sure everything was alright back at home.

"he had an appointment today." yuji said while he was washing the dirty plates, handing them to matt to dry. you used to always put the dishes away back to their original places, but you were no longer there to do your job and that hurt you a bit.

it stung seeing how they had to adapt to live without you and you recalled how you all had to do the same when your mother left. you watched how matt didn't hand it to anyone, he just placed them down.

"and the results?" you asked, your voice quiet and steady but ready for any news you didn't want to hear. not yet.

"not out yet, but im sure nothing has changed since last time he got checked up."

yuji turned off the sink, handing the smaller kid the last dish before drying his hands with a towel. "how's yale treating you? saw the picture you sent."

you hummed looking back at how the day went. "it's going great I guess. our school won the game by the way, oh and a boy wants to take me out."

"you agreed?" yuji has always been the overprotective type, despite you being older.

you answered by shaking your head. "no, he's sketchy."

"how come?" now he was completely alert. a boy is hitting on his sister hundreds of miles away from home? not on his watch. you shrugged.

"he has a whole fangirl club or something."

matts voice could be heard from afar. "he's a red flag!" his words made you chuckle. "you been teaching him new vocabulary?"

yuji rolled his eyes. "its the kids at his school. but seriously, trust your gut. if you don't feel like something is right about that gut, don't take his offer."

you nodded, pressing the sleeve of your sweater up to your nose taking in the scent of old memories. it hasnt been washed since you left home and that nostalgic smell lingered.

one that you desperately wanted to go back to.

satoru could've sworn he left dissecting frogs back in high school, but here he was again, poking around at the laid back amphibians internal organs. "no way am I doing this shit." with a mutter, he placed the tweezers down gagging, shaking his hands in disgust before pulling out his cigarette box, sliding one out placing it in between his pretty pink lips, far too pretty for a man. "smoking in class? you'll set the smoke alarm off." suguru scooted closer to his friend.

"better than doing a bbl on a frog." satoru grumbled, looking away not being able to stare at the gross mess that was right in front of him. "that girl from yesterday.." he narrowed his eyes in thought, trying to remember your name. "y/n" he mumbled after it finally reached him.

"she didn't want to go out with me." he continued. the black haired boy scoffed, not comprehending the words that were coming out of the school's playboy. " you're satoru fucking gojo, this should be easy as hell for you!"

"look man, I dont do this shit anymore."

suguru rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he looked at the frog's corpse. "I'll pay you." satoru grunted bringing the lighter up to his cigarette, huffing it slowly before blowing it towards suguru, in which he looked down at the smoking boy unimpressed.

"I have enough money, I don't need your pocket change."

suguru paused in deep thought. "you're right, heard she's only into pretty guys anyways." satoru brought a hand up to his chest as if he was truly hurt, because he was.

“are you telling me im not a pretty guy?” he took out the cigarette from his mouth, before crushing it down against the table, which left a nasty dent on the cheap laminate. "why do you want me to play with her?"

suguru brought his pierced tongue out to lick his dry lips. "I guess I just miss the old you. seriously satoru, I'll pay you. 300 bucks if you take her out on a date," he scooted closer to his friend. "500 if you get in her panties. and 1000 if you manage to make her your date to hoco."

as if divine intervention occurred, the door creaked open, pausing the chatter between the two boys. there you were. wearing a well put together outfit that just made satoru's hormones run crazy, as you made your way to your desk. the sight of you made gojo straighten his posture suddenly hyper aware of every detail of himself. quickly running a hand through his hair and gulping, his adams apple bobbing.

he turned to look at suguru who was already giving him a pointed look.

"bet."

another thing that you like about yale's campus is that its not too far away from shopping areas. you found a nearby barnes and noble not even a few blocks away from the school. it soon became your go to stop where you would buy books and cd's. you weren't able to fit any of your beloved music or novels when you were packing, so you started a new collection that was placed neatly back at your dorm.

you entered, the bell placed on top of the door notifying any workers of your entrance quickly making your way to the music disc section, straight shelves full of cd's. you're surprised to see many new arrivals.

some were year old music, and some were rare old ones from the 2000's. you reached out to grab a few, a soft smile plastered on your face as you scanned the labels. so deep into it, you didn't notice the bell chiming again.

'debut' by bjork was being held by your hand right now, having an inner battle with yourself whether to be financially responsible for today. you placed the cd back when you remembered that the hospital bill from your fathers last visit would soon come back. and you were not looking forward to seeing the multiple zeros behind whatever number was in front of it.

"excuse me, have you seen any cd of bjork?" the smooth voice behind you asked. "oh yeah-" you answered, turning to look back at the voice.

halfway through your sentence, you took a good look at who was behind you. satoru. "oh, it's you." your eyes narrowed as they focused on him. the boy slid his glasses on the crown of his head. you didn't know he even wore those. satoru seemed to have noticed your observation.

"lost my contacts."

"are you stalking me?" you asked defensively which just made him laugh. his body got closer to yours as he skimmed through the cd's.

"you not getting that bjork one?" he asked tilting his head as his long pale fingers slid the music disc right out of its place. the plastic creaked the second he held it.

"uh its a bit expensive.." the words came out in a mumble, almost embarrassed to admit you couldn't afford a fifty dollar cd. you shifted your weight onto your right leg, looking anywhere but him.

he looked at you before looking down at the case. "guess I'll get it."

you blinked. "didn't know you liked her."

"I dont. but I like you, so I'll get it for you, baby. anything else you want?"

you head snapped towards him, watching how he didn't even let you answer as he placed the bjork case that contained the disc you've been wanting for a while into a shopping basket. you were so shocked you didn't even realize the term of endearment.

"its fifty.." you reminded him.

"be a sweetheart and dont mention the prices, I dont care one bit about it." your eyes dropped to the basket, lips parting to say anything but nothing came out. nothing but a, "can I get the post one..?"

you couldn't find how much one has ever spent at barnes and nobles, but you were pretty sure you may have broken whatever record there was. satoru didn't mind, just like he said.

when the cashier asked how he'd like his receipt he declined it. when he saw the total on the screen in bold green letters, he ignored it. and when he handed you the bags full of books, cd's, and figures, some that you didn't even ask for. he just noticed you staring at them for a little too long and he'd just grab it and place it in the basket, he had a smile plastered right on those pink lips.

"I think I deserve a kiss for all of this.."

its the least you could do, right? besides he didn't tell you where he wanted the kiss. so you stepped up on your tippy toes a bit to place your lips on his cheek.

"thank you. seriously thank you." his smirk softened to a smile, returning the kiss but on your forehead making your breathing stutter.

"any time," he mumbled kissing your nose before backing up. "oh here, give me your phone"

your hand pulls out your phone from your back pocket, handing it to him. "what for?"

"im putting my number in.." his fingers typed quickly, the dumb smirk on his face not leaving, before slipping it back into your hands.

'my sugar daddy'

you visibly cringed at the name he chose. "you've got to be kidding me." you said with pure disbelief. he nodded, proud of his decision. "I did buy you all this didn't I?" he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, leaning down to whisper into it.

"ill send you a picture to set up as my contact photo. perhaps a nude?"

"perhaps not."

miwa's eyes widened when she saw you stumble into the shared dorm with heavy bags on each hand. "woah.. didn't know it was black friday." she half joked, getting up from her bed to help you out. you exhaled in relief when the weight was taken from your poor limp arms. "and I didn't pay a single penny."

she averted her gaze from the bags up to you. "who did pay for them? your sugar daddy?" your face burned at that damn name. "you're not wrong. it was satoru." you held up your phone, opening this contact name you knew would have miwa laughing.

she squinted, looking at it before she burst into giggles.

"hes so extra." you set the bags down on the desk, taking one thing out at a time. miwa wiped the tears that spilled from her eyes. "how'd this happen?"

you dragged a hand down your face, shrugging. "he saw me at the store and offered to buy me whatever. but I swear I didn't ask for all of this."

"he likes you."

you paused for a second. "does he now?"

it was a dumb question. who else would buy a random person they have no interest in hundreds of dollars worth of barnes and noble? no one, except him of course.

you retold the same ridiculous events to yuji, who still wasn't pleased at the idea of you getting hit on not even a month into school. his arms were crossed over his chest as he was lazily sitting on his desk chair, same as you.

"return everything."

you scoffed. "no way! even if I did I wouldn't be able to, he didn't ask for a receipt."

"he shouldn't be buying you shit. didn't you tell me yesterday how your gut was telling you something was off?"you moved from your desk to your bed, sighing as your back hit the mattress. "well maybe I was wrong about him."

satoru felt proud of being able to treat you like a princess, buying you all sorts of things, showering you with everything you wanted. he remembered how you hesitated on buying that cd. it bothered him a bit.

'did she have a problem with money?'

his phone rang with a message from suguru.

'party tonight at the frat, you coming?"

of course he was, he hasn't missed a single function since he joined yale. his fingers typed out, "Omw!" but before he could send it, he stopped, and then deleted it. why was he thinking about you right now?

why is he declining a party?

"im not in the mood tonight."

he stared at the screen for a moment, realizing that he actually sent that. a calloused hand rubbed his cheekbone, exhaling before he received another notification, this time not from any of his friends but from spotify.

'the marias are performing near you! click to see ticket prices and shows available!'

the marias? where had he heard that name.. his mind instantly flashed to you. you were holding the marias disc, the one he bought you along with all the other cd's. it was as if his body was moving without him knowing because a second later, he was buying two tickets.

your first day was an unconfirmed barnes and noble date. but your second day, the concert, would be an actual date.

he clicked the 'pay now' button without hesitation.

you weren't expecting to see a screen showing the digital receipts slip right into your line of sight while you were halfway through placing some textbooks in your locker. the bold blue letters read, 'THE MARIAS'

"hi pretty.. got these for you and me." your eyes widened at the familiar voice. the white haired individual really had a habit of sneaking up behind you didn't he? "you.. you got-" you stammered, blinking at the sight of the tickets, then back at him.

"got these for you and me." he repeated himself, both his voice and gaze softening. not sure to be flattered or continue being suspicious, you slowly reached for his phone, taking it from his pale hand to make sure what you were seeing was real.

not only did he buy you both tickets to a music artist you liked, but he also got the best seats. "you got the marias tickets.." you said mostly to yourself. his smirk was still there, but it showed no sign of being cocky.

"mhm, thought you'd like it."

"satoru.. you already spent so much on me yesterday.." how come a boy you barely knew was dropping a thousand on you each day. "I told you I like you. this can be our first date." he gently grabbed back his phone.

you swallowed, your mind trying to wrap itself around the unexpected layers of satoru you’d been seeing over the last few days. and you wondered if you were the first one to see this version of him.

"one date." you said firmly as you lifted up your finger, finally agreeing to his advances. his charm was different.. it was bold, yes, but real. "don't push your luck, im only accepting because its bjork."

"there will be more than one date, pretty." there was short pauses between his words allowing each syllable to sink in. like he meant it.

you had no idea why you were allowing him to score another point at this game he was forcing you to play. "at least let me pay for the gas.. or for the food." you offered but satoru only scrunched his face up shaking his head.

"don't do that."

he had some extra cash on him. 300. just like suguru promised when he said he'd pay satoru 300 if he managed to take you out on a date.

"just wear something pretty for me, and easy to remove."

you rolled your eyes. "im not sure about that second part, you're pushing your luck here sir."

"mm no not sir baby, its sugar dadd-"

your hand shot out to cover his mouth, cutting him off before he even had the chance to finish. he was shocked for a bit before he licked a long stripe against your hand moaning.

you recoiled immediately, gagging with a mix of shock and disgust. he chuckled at your discomfort and the sight of you wiping your hand on his chest.

"you like that baby?"

"no!" you shot back, closing your locker before rushing to the bathroom to properly clean your hand.

"ill see you later my love!" he called out.

miwa helped you get ready for the concert date after school. she straightened your hair pin straight while you both talked about what could happen later. your phone vibrated with a notification from 'sugar daddy'

"you still wearing something easy to remove right?"

you stared at the message. any past thoughts of him not being that bad quickly vanished. obviously, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of your reply, so you left him on read. guess that hurt his feelings because a few minutes later he texted again.

"im joking baby :("

"still haven't changed that contact name?" miwa asked, finishing up the last strand for the final section. you grumbled a little 'shut it'

"im kind of nervous.." you admitted. this was going to be your first date after all.

miwa stopped, her hands hovering in mid air, before she turned your chair to face each other. her expression softened, a mix of understanding and excitement. "hey, it’s okay to be nervous. besides you kind of already know him.."

"briefly." you couldn't help but sigh, your eyes following her figure as she chose an outfit from her side of the closet to lend you.

"he wanted something easy to remove right?"

"dont."

you both met up to where you agreed, which was just outside the girls dormitories. the second he saw you, his heart fluttered.

you looked, no, you are gorgeous.

"...hey" a smile crept up on his face. he was dressed casual while you went all out thanks to miwa.

"hi" you smiled softly.

"you're so beautiful.." you'd be lying if you said you weren't flustered. even if you tried lying, the dark tint of pink on your cheeks would say otherwise. "thank you"

with a chuckle, he led you to his car. a model of the year, typical for a rich ass boy like him. being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger door for you before closing it as you settled yourself down.

he made his way over to the drivers seat. "can't believe I finally landed a date with you" he mumbled before reaching over to hold your hand in his.

why was he acting like this? it was just a bet.. right?

you stared down at your hands that were now intertwined. you'd expect his to be cold from how pale they were and the amount of time he spends playing hockey in the cold rink.

your eyes lifted to his face, he was focused on the road now, a quiet little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, like just having you next to him was enough.

"im going to be honest, i don't know any of this bands songs."

your breath caught in your throat. "you bought the tickets without knowing how they were?"

he shook his head. "I bought the tickets because I knew you knew who they were." his hand squeezed yours, keeping his eyes on the road. "have I told you how absolutely sexy you are? I mean look at this.." his hand moved from yours to tug at your skirt, making you gasp.

"feel good, baby?" he continued squeezing your thigh, biting his lower lip as he felt the warmth of your skin.

he slapped it playfully, moving his hand onto the steering wheel leaving you flustered.

"pervert.."

the concert was beautiful. the music reached your heart it made you tear up, of course some songs hit close to home. gojo couldn't help but admire you from time to time. watching as your pretty mouth sang along to the unknown lyrics.

"lets take a picture pretty." he said out of nowhere. "a picture?" he nodded before pulling out his phone, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his cheek against yours, snapping a few pictures of you and him throughout the night, mostly of you. you did the same, filling up your gallery with endless pictures and videos.

he pressed his lips on your temple before pulling away to continue enjoying the performance.

as the night came to an end, he drove you safely back home, both of you discussing the songs you enjoyed being performed the most.

"I think I enjoyed back to me the most"

"no way! paranoia was clearly the most enjoyable."

he rolled his eyes. "yeah well I think what I enjoyed the most was seeing you sing. you're gorgeous baby."

"you already told me that like twenty times."

"and ill continue to tell you for the rest of my life and beyond that." his words made your stomach twist. not in a bad way. definitely not. you watched how the dim light lit up his face making him look even more handsome than he already was.

"want to go to the ice rink?" he asked.

'right now? I dont think im wearing the appropriate clothing for skating.."

satoru grinned, pulling up to the building where the arena was in. "good thing I came prepared then." he reached towards the backseat, pulling out a duffel bag.

"you can thank your friend miwa."

you stared down at the clothes, which belonged to you, now on your lap. light pink thighs and a sweater as well as leg warmers. "you guys planned this?"

"she helped me out. I wanted to make this the best first date."

it was late, so the place was quieter than usual, dimly lit, making the place peaceful. the cold air nipped at your cheeks as you both stepped inside, and you tried your best not to show how nervous you were.

"ive never skated before." you admit.

"good thing your man is a hockey player." he finished tying up his laces before getting down on one knee to tie yours. he said it so casually. 'your man'

satoru looked up at you all while he continued fumbling around with the laces on your skates. "I really hope we have that romcom moment where you slip on the ice and fall right into my arms."

"what type of movies are you watching?" you giggled, feeling the heat creep up to your neck.

he finished the second skate, placing it on the ground before gripping your thighs. "like I said.. romcoms." he murmured, bringing you closer to his face. he darted his tongue out to lick the inside of your thigh.

a gasp left your lips. "h-hey.."

he didn't stop there.

he was starved. his lips traveled all throughout your inner thighs, nipping once in a while. "pretty.."

a shaky hand pushed his head away, watching as a string of saliva connected his lips with you. "so uhm.. you gonna teach me how to skate..?"

the fog of tension shattered the moment you placed your hand on his forehead, pushing him away. he licked his lips before chuckling. "yeah, come on."

the second you stepped onto the ice, you were already struggling. it was more slippery than you'd expect it to be, but satoru's large hands, placed on your waist, kept you steady.

"lean on me."

you held onto his arms, following his step wobbling once in a while.

"I got you doll."

twenty minutes was all you needed to learn how to maintain your balance on the ice. you excitedly followed satoru, holding his hand as you both made rounds around the rink, your skates gliding smoothly. he glanced at you, smiling as he watched you. "look at you... natural born skater" just as he said that, you bumped into his shoulder.

"natural born liar."

he chuckled seeing how your eyes showed signs of being tired. he wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you up with ease. "lets get you out of here. kind of sad we didn't have that cute moment."

"what cute moment?" you wrapped your arms around him before he placed you down the carpet when he got you both out the ice rink. "the one where you fall right into my arms and we kiss."

you rolled your eyes. "maybe next time."

he raised an eyebrow, kneeling down again to take off your shoes. "so is that a confirmation that we will have another date?"

"mhm." you hummed quietly and before you knew it, you were leaning into a kiss with no control over your body, like it was possessed by a curse or something.

he hesitated for a second, deciding not to kiss you back. it was just a bet.

"lets go."

you stared at him in hurt and betrayal. this is what he wanted wasn't it? you felt your heart sink deeper as the seconds passed. you didn't allow him to put your shoes on, doing it yourself instead.

"baby.."

"dont." your voice wasn't firm, it was soft. barely even a whisper to be honest. "you're just messing with me aren't you?" he looked startled, like he had gotten caught with his hand down the cookie jar, because he did.

"no..no you're not something to play around with."

you were mad. furious even. "feels like it."

opening the door after gathering your clothes, you left without a goodnight. or a kiss. once you were out of view, satoru dragged his hands down his face groaning. he's grown attached to you without knowing it in the span of three days. and he's hurt you by denying your kiss.

he rushed after you.

"let me walk you."

"its fine. my dorm isn't that far."

"damn it y/n." he pressed his lips against yours, cupping your jaw. the kiss was full of frustration and it was desperate. his other hand found your hip, bringing you closer to him. he wanted to deepen the kiss, but he noticed you weren't kissing back.

he pulled away before smashing his lips against yours again, hoping that you'd kiss back this time but you didn't.

"I'll see you later.." you mumbled out.

he watched you walk away quickly in the direction of your dorm. now it was his heart who was sinking. he didn't remember any of his last 'bets' hurting this much.

so why does it feel like you were ripping out his heart right now?

when you reached your dorm, ready to get any call from your brothers, you already planned not to mention anything. not the concert date with satoru and definitely not how yuji was right about him. you couldn't let him have that 'I told you so' moment.

your phone vibrated at the back of your pocket as soon as you dropped your bag onto the floor. miwa was staying over at her boyfriends tonight, giving you and satoru any privacy if things went to a more heated direction.

it did. sorta.

with a sigh, you slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call from yuji.

"took you a while."

you forced a laugh. "sorry, you woke me up." you allowed your body to rest, flopping down on your messy bed with a 'thump', the back of your head sinking into the pillows.

"I'm just calling you to let you know that a hospital bill might reach you."

you quirked an eyebrow, staring at the ceiling. "its going to be sent out to me? all the way to yale?" yuji let out a small 'mhm', casual like he was commenting on the weather.

"yeah, from dad's last check up."

"oh," you rubbed your face, feeling a different kind of tired. "thats right."

"its just from his prescriptions and shit.. I would've paid it myself but.." his voice trailed off.

"no, no dont worry about it. not like i'm already drowning in student loans or whatever"

"of course not." you could hear him chuckle from the other side of the phone.

after the call ended, you let the silence settle. you received your mail usually by the end of the week in your small issued mailbox that was located in the front of the school. most of the time it was just flyers for clubs you had no intention of joining. but soon, a hospital bill that you desperately wanted to leave behind home, where it belongs, will appear right inside the small box.

after dreading to see the ridiculous amount you had to pay for oral chemotherapy medication, your mind circled back to satoru, a finger brushed against your lips, reliving the moment he placed his against yours in a kiss you wanted to return, but didn't.

you felt like it wasn't real.

why would he hesitate in the first place? your hand dropped back down against the mattress, gripping the bed sheets to brace yourself from any tears that might come out.

miwa dragged you to watch kokichi practice in the ice rink. the memories from last night hit you like a wave every other minute you sat on the bleachers. the same spot you were rejected.

you were annoyed.

no. pissed. pissed at how he dodged your kiss like it meant nothing and honestly you have every right to be. because why is he hesitant to kiss you when he’s the one that was so desperate. is this some sort of sick joke?

you didn't want to mention it to miwa or anyone. you were too embarrassed and the poor girl was happy she even had the opportunity to help out satoru with last nights date. you couldn't take that away from her. when she asked how it went you spared the details and just gave a brief summary.

"it was fun, he took me to the concert, we sang. then the ice rink, thanks by the way, and he taught me how to skate."

"thats so cute!" her face lit up.

you both continued to see the hockey players glide across the arena. but someone was missing. number 10. your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a microphone starting.

“can't take my eyes of off you..” a voice murmured into the microphone, a voice you instantly recognized. satoru. you blinked once. and then again-unsure if you were hearing correctly or if the loud ass volume you listen to your music in was finally catching up to you.

you squinted your eyes to see the white haired boy stand right in the middle of the rink, the whole team joining him as well. his body stepped forward, then another, until he broke into a dance. you let out a few chuckles of disbelief as you watched him make a fool of himself.

“i love you baby!” you wanted to crawl into a corner and die from embarrassment. “and if it’s quite alright, i need you baby..” his finger pointed right at you. a few people around you chuckled as well, one yelling, "go verona!"

you brought your hands up to you face covering it in embarrassment as a flush appeared. he was so off key now, yelling out the lyrics as he did little tricks around the ice, nearly slipping but catching himself with a dramatic spin. he made a bee line towards the top of the bleachers. you wanted to escape but he was quick, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“oh pretty baby..” he panted as the chorus died down. he placed the microphone down, grabbing your cheeks without a warning with both hands planting a long and sweet kiss on your plump lips. this time, you kissed back without hesitation from either of you.

"satoru.." you managed to say before he continued his desperate kisses, sliding his tongue into your mouth leaving no room for the words that were swirling in your head. miwa was ecstatic, clapping with others, who were surprised that the ex-playboy was acting straight out of a 2000's movie.

"shut up.. let me just kiss you." his fingers threaded through your hair.

and kisses continued all the way to his dorm, no sign of stopping any time soon as he pushed you down his bed.

"im sorry about yesterday.. let me make it up to you."

"I think you did already with your little performance."

he chuckled, shaking his head. "nah, you need more than a song."

satoru wears everything on his face. like everything. you could tell what he was feeling with just a glimpse at his blushed face that turned from his usual pale color to a deep red. his mouth was open when he sank into you.

he smirked when he watched you struggle to take him. the small moans you let out made him twitch. "you look so fucking good. taking my cock like this." he wrapped your legs around his bare waist before his large hand found your neck, wrapping lightly around it.

"sa..satoru.." you whimpered.

"mmf- yeah that feels good. so.. tight and wet f'me. should've done this yesterday." he rolled his hips against yours gently. satoru has never been this gentle during sex towards anyone. he slid in and out of you slowly, making sure you felt every single one of his veins.

"oh fuck.. not going to last long inside this warm fucking pussy."

he licked your lips before shoving his tongue down your throat. satoru pulled away, forcing your jaw to open to spit right into your mouth.

"swallow."

you obeyed, swallowing his shared spit, opening your mouth to show him.

"good girl."

you screamed, gripping his shoulders when he slipped almost all the way out before slamming all the way in. he was loving this, almost forgetting the amount of money he would receive for getting into your panties.

it wasn't until you both finished, and his arms were wrapped around you in a comfortable position to cuddle, placing loving kisses on your forehead, that he finally remembered that this was all a bet. was.

he was scared that maybe he didn't want this to be just a game. his breath stilled, his fingers still tracing random shapes on your back as he pulled back slightly, taking a close look at your peaceful expression.

he didn't want it to end.

he took a look at his calendar that was placed on his nightstand. he counted the days knowing he didn't have that much left with you.

"love?"

you hummed, opening your eyes, your expression soft, when he called out to you.

"i'm playing tomorrow.. then we're having a sort of 'hoco' type of thing at the frat.. come with me?"

you nodded, placing your head on his chest listening to the way his heart beat at a steady pace. "course.." you murmured, he did tire you out after all. his body relaxed at your answer. there were still so many things left unsaid, so much you both needed to figure out. but he was okay with just having you this close to him right now.

you didn't call your family that night. your phone was put on do not disturb, laying on top of the nightstand. satoru's arms were still wrapped tightly around you.

but across the country, yuji grew worried, because not only were hospital bills going to reach you, but terrible news as well.

he paced back and forth outside the hospital room, the one where your father was currently staying, checking his phone every second to see if you have seen his messages or calls.

nothing from you.

he tried to come up with a reason. you were probably studying, or just busy in general. he wanted to cry because the feeling of being the one now responsible for everything was finally sinking in. he didn't know why your father collapsed. he didn't know if your aunt was on her way to pick up matt from school. and he didn't know when the hell you would answer your phone.

"answer.. please." he prayed.

the next day when you woke up to the sound of shuffling, you were met with several forehead kisses.

"sorry baby, have to go straight to the rink." your eyes fluttered open slowly, eyes adjusting to the morning light. you remembered the game today, and the party as well.

"practice hard.." your morning voice came out groggy, in which he let out a soft laugh.

"ill see you later baby." with that he left.

you looked around, still groggy, seeing the clock on his wall. eleven o clock.

your eyes widened. shit. you were late for class. you threw the blanket off of you, quickly putting on the same clothes from yesterday. when you reached for your panties, you noticed they were ripped. the sudden pain you felt on your stomach was a reminder of your poor decisions from last night.

you slipped on your skirt, praying you wouldn't flash anyone by the time you got to your dorm. after grabbing your bag, you reached for your phone before bolting out of his room.

when you made your way to class, you felt a deep feeling in your gut telling you, no, yelling, that something wasn't okay.

the cold air of the rink hit you the moment you stepped through the doors, crisp and biting against your skin. the faint sound of blades carving across ice echoed through the space, mixed with low shouts and the occasional laughter of teammates mid practice.

miwa was buzzing beside you, excited to see her boyfriend play, and for the party he asked her out to. you caught sight of satoru not that far away talking with a boy with gauges.

"I'll be back: you said to her.

"okay! I'll go grab us some seats then!"

you watched as the blue haired girl quickly made her way up the bleachers, snatching a good spot for the both of you. you approached satoru, ready to scare him as you snuck behind him.

"dude, I'm telling you I fucked her already, pay up." he grumbled.

your entire world stopped for a second. were you hearing correctly? the other boy laughed. "thought you didn't want to take this bet?" his hand reached for his pocket, pulling out his wallet to slip out a few hundred dollar bills.

it all suddenly clicked.

"it's whatever. honestly, she's everything i've wanted in a girl." the boy you thought you could trust accepted the bills into his hand. how could you have thought that this actually meant something. that you actually meant something to satoru.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you stared at him, feeling so many emotions all at once. anger, betrayal, and even denial. your mind was processing what you just heard. you wanted to hear it wasn't real, that he wasn't only after you because of a bet and that he actually likes you. but you knew you were better than that, you couldn't help but connect all the dots. the way he just randomly went up to you? the way he spent so much money on you?

it wasn't fate. it was orchestrated. and you felt stupid for now realizing.

there was horror written all over gojos face. "no baby.. baby listen to me." but you refused, shaking your head. you refused because the following words were going to be the confirmation that you dreaded to hear. without another word, you turned away pushing though the crowd. "y/n!" he shouted, but you didn't turn back. as you made your way down the hall, his hand wrapped around your wrist, "please, PLEASE listen to me!" in which you yanked back.

"it was all a bet huh? and for what? I knew I shouldn't have trusted yo-" you were interrupted by his lips molding against yours. no matter how much you wanted to melt into it, you didn't. your hands landed on his chest, pushing him off you before wiping your lips. the boy stood there, stunned, as his sad blue eyes watched you walk out.

how could he do this to you? after you accepted his dates. after you let him use your body for pleasure. after everything?you felt horrible for leaving miwa alone, but you didn't want to ruin her day. her boyfriend was playing hockey, with satoru.

it was when you pulled out your phone, ready to block him, when you saw the several missed calls from yuji and from your fathers doctor. your heart sank even more. you quickly found a secluded spot.

satoru wanted to follow after you, desperate to fix things. but he couldn't, not with a game he needed to play. but in all honesty he was done playing.

yuji was screaming at you through the phone. his voice was raw. one you haven't heard in years.

"I called you twenty fucking times y/n! all of last night, where the hell were you?!"

you were hyperventilating. the situation sinking in, the one with gojo and the one where your dad was on the brink of death. "with.. with this guy.."

silence.

"with a guy?" he spat. “you were with some guy while dad was- y/n, he’s in critical condition. they had to resuscitate him last night. and im over here wondering that something important was going on with you only to find out you were busy sucking some guy off. was it the guy you told me about?"

"..yeah..but it didn't end well."

"I dont fucking care about that right now. honestly im glad, let this be a lesson. we thought we were gonna lose him. and you were out playing house with some asshole?”

you didn't answer, too busy trying to even breathe. "im sorry... im sorry." yuji didn’t respond right away.

"i already paid half of the shit," his sharp voice continued. "if you could send some money over that would be great. and those bills, have you paid them yet?"

you swallowed hard, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. “o, I… I haven’t had time, yuji,”

“you haven’t had time?” he repeated like the words physically hurt him. there was a long pause. when Yuji spoke again, his voice had softened.

".. just please pay his medication.. my job isn't paying that well."

"I will.." you said quietly. "where is matt?"

"he's with aunt teresa. i'll call you if anything happens again, please answer next time."

you sniffled, wiping your runny nose. "okay. I love you."

click.

the call ended with him not saying those words back. you still had your phone up to your ear, wishing that magically yuji would say it back.

you felt so unwanted

unloved.

you could feel your eyes stinging even more and your throat closing up on you. you felt like you were losing everyone, your father slipping away in a hospital bed miles from here, your brother who had always been your anchor, your voice of reason, now too exhausted to carry you, and satoru.

satoru.

that night your phone was blowing up. call after call, text after text- all from him.

satoru : y/n please.

satoru : call me, return my calls lets talk pretty.

satoru : it was a bet, but believe me when I tell you that I truly love you.

satoru : I love you. say it back baby. please I need you. can't lose you, im sorry love please don't leave..

you remembered when you planned to block him before the call with yuji, your finger hovered over the red block button. but you simply put your phone on dnd and headed to sleep recalling the horrible events of tonight. tear stains were placed on your cheeks, mascara ruined, just like how your life felt.

miwa had tried, she really did. she tried her best to comfort you, but she understood you needed space. the sweet girl provided you with extra blankets as well as water, she even rubbed off the remaining makeup on you.

satoru hasn't felt this horrible since he accidentally flushed down his sisters goldfish back in first grade. but it wasn't the same.

the goldfish didn't hate him. you did.

and he hated himself for how he made you feel. he hated himself for doing this to you. but god was he grateful to have taken on that bet. not for the money, but for you. because of the bet, he met such a wonderful girl who he was completely smitten for. too bad that the girl now hates his guts.

the weather matched how gojo felt. he looked like hell.

his usual outfits was replaced by a simple white t-shirt with sweatpants. the confident boy was now just a regular burnt out college student who looks like he missed out on eight hours of sleep to study for his physics final. he hasn't eaten since yesterday, deciding his body didn't deserve to be rewarded with food.

he made his way to the small mailroom provided for students. his face lit up when he saw you there, not looking so good like him.

"baby."

his voice startled you, making you drop your mail, watching as they scattered all throughout the tile floor.

you crouched down to gather your mail, avoiding his eyes, heart pounding in your chest from too many things at once, his voice, your brother’s call, the reminder of your father, the unbearable guilt, and now him standing here, looking like someone you didn’t know how to love right now.

satoru knelt beside you, brushing your fingers by accident as he helped you collect the envelopes. the moment your skin touched, a sharp breath escaped his lips.

thats when saw it. a bunch of letters from kaiser permamente.

"what's this..?"

you froze, hand curling tighter around the envelope like you could hide it, like you could make it disappear if you just willed it hard enough. but he had already seen.

you stood quickly, clutching the papers to your chest. “it’s nothing.”

“sweetheart…” His tone shifted, serious now. “that’s a hospital.”

"i know, i can read." you shot back.

satoru rose to his feet slowly, eyes still locked on you, his earlier exhaustion now sharpened with concern. “y/n?” His voice cracked. “is everything okay?”

you didn't know how it came to this. but you were hugging him tightly, crying into his chest like he wasn't part of the reason why you were going through it.

.

.

.

ending a/n : I hope you guys enjoyed reading the first half of 10 things I hate about you !!

[zoro-sremedy]

My backshots sound like bongos!

Synopsis. Your back hurts and they offer the best service!

Including. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna.

Risk assessment 18+ mdni, smut and crack, stablished relationship, reader is unprotected, spanking, backshots, soft dom/dom vibes.

a/n: i did say a drabble might happen, and obvs i couldn't resist!!! Inspired by this beauty

GOJO SATORU—"LET'S LOOSEN YOU UP"

"My back's killing me. Come break it?"

You're half-joking. Maybe he'll bring a massage gun. Maybe he'll make a dumb pun.

Instead, Gojo shows up at your door thirty minutes later with a devil's grin and a bottle of oil.

"Emergency response team reporting for duty," he says, stepping inside like owns the place.

"You're not serious."

"I'm always serious about back-blowing."

You open your mouth to clarify—massage, not mayhem—but then his hands are on your shoulders, kneading casually while his mouth brushes your ear.

"You're tense," he murmurs. "You need something deep. Penetrating. Therapeutic."

Your protests die in your throat because… okay, his hands do feel good. Strong fingers work under your shoulder blades, slow and firm, and when he kneels behind you, straddling your thighs like it's nothing, you feel his breath hit the nape of your neck.

"Satoru—"

"Shh," he whispers, mouth grazing your skin. "Just breathe."

The shirt comes off first. Then your shorts. Then his hands slide lower, gliding over your hips with oil-slick precision, a finger dips between your thighs, testing your heat, and he lets out a low whistle.

"Damn. Didn't even have to flip you over. You're so ready to be fixed."

You turn your head to glare, but he's already lining himself up. Smiling like the demon he was.

"I hope your insurance covers maximum damage."

And then he's inside.

The first thrust knocks the air from your lungs. The second has your toes curling. By the third, you forget your own name.

He's slow at first—teasing, dragging his cock all the way out just to slam back in until your entire body jolts. One hand holds your hip steady, the other presses between your shoulder blades, forcing you down like this is some goddamn yoga pose.

"Good girl," he groans, rolling his hips. "Look at you. Taking it so well. Gonna break you in all the right ways."

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping, your breathy moans, and his sinful little chuckles every time your body arches under him.

"Feeling better yet?" he murmurs against your neck.

"No," you pant. "Harder."

He growls.

The pace changes. No more play. Just pure, ruinous rhythm—balls slapping your ass, hands gripping your hips like they're handles, the head of his cock hitting the spot that makes you tremble.

You come with a cry, body convulsing, nails clawing at the sheets. Gojo groans, deep and hungry, hips stuttering as he fills you to the brim.

Afterwards, he collapses beside you, glistening with sweat and absolutely zero shame.

"You're welcome," he says, smug.

Your voice is hoarse. "That wasn't a massage."

"Sure it was. I touched your back and blew it out. Multi-tasking king."

GETO SUGURU—"YOU CALLED, MY PRIESTESS?"

It started with a text.

My back hurts. Break it?"

He replies instantly, like he's been waiting for this moment.

"Physically? Spiritually? Emotionally? "Massage, dumbass." "Got it. All three."

You expect a bottle of lotion and a pervy smirk.

What you get instead is Geto Suguru in a black kimono, hair tied up, sleeves loose, and a slow, knowing smile like he just walked out of a shrine and into your depravity.

"Lay down," he says, voice velvet-smooth, already lighting incense like this is a ceremony.

"Is this gonna get weird?" you ask.

He glances over his shoulder, eyes glinting. "You texted me 'break my back' and thought this wouldn't get weird?"

Touché.

Still, you obey. You lie down on the mat he brought—yes, he brought his own mat, wtf—and let him straddle you. His palms are warm. Soothing. Sinfully slow as they glide down your back.

"Stay just like that," he says, voice deepening. "Arms above your head. Legs spread. Back arched—good girl."

Your breath stutters. That was a lot for a massage intro.

"This is how we start," he murmurs, leaning close. His lips brush your ear. "So your body's prepared. Submission is a sacred act."

You snort. "You sound like a cult leader."

"I am." He grins. "And tonight, you're my only follower."

And then you feel it: oil drizzled, fingers gliding down your spine, rubbing slow circles into the small of your back, working lower with every pass. His hands are hot. Intentional. Reverent.

Your brain short-circuits around the same time his hands slip lower, cupping your ass like it's part of the ritual. You try to lift your head, but he presses you down gently.

"Shh," he coos. "Let me heal you."

You're wet. Shamefully so. And he hasn't even touched you where it counts—yet. That changes fast.

One hand stays on the small of your back, grounding. The other slips between your thighs, fingers gliding through slick folds like a prayer. He groans low.

"You were made for worship," he whispers, tracing lazy circles over your clit. "Look at you. Ready to be blessed."

Before you can answer, he shifts up behind you. The rustle of fabric tells you he's already stroking himself, and then—he drags the head of his cock through your soaked folds like he's blessing the altar.

"I'm going to take my time," he says softly. "Make sure you feel eeeevery inch."

And then he sinks in.

You moan—loud. His name, a curse, maybe both. He's huge, thick, and it's all so deep from this angle—his cock hits you from behind like it's meant to change your fate.

"Take it," he murmurs. "Let me ruin you right."

He starts moving. Slow, grinding thrusts at first, pushing you flat against the mat. His palm presses between your shoulder blades, holding you down while he fucks you like a man possessed.

Geto groans like he's the one being ruined. "Fuck, this is divine. Look at you. Face down, ass up—made to be worshipped."

You babble something incoherent.

"Breathe, pretty thing," he coos. "You can take it. You asked for this."

He leans over you, still slamming into your soaked cunt from behind, and kisses your spine like he's reading a prayer off it.

"Gonna fuck you until your back gives out. Until your knees shake. Until this pretty little body remembers who you belong to."

Your moans are broken, loud, begging. Every thrusts slaps against your ass, each one rougher, deeper—until you're shaking under him, climax ripping through you so hard your vision goes white."

"Yeah, just like that," he groans, voice wrecked. "Come all over me, priestess."

He follows with a deep guttural moan, spilling inside you as he grinds his hips against yours, burying himself to the hilt.

You're both panting when he finally pulls out, slick dripping down your thighs, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back again like he's sealing the ritual.

“Feel healed yet?” he asks with a smug smile.

You wheeze. “You shattered me like a fucking cursed object.”

“Mm,” he hums, kissing your temple. “Praise be.”

NANAMI KENTO —"LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU"

It starts with a simple message:

"My back hurts. You busy?"

He replies two minutes later, like he was already halfway out the door.

"I'm on my way. Don't do anything strenuous."

You think he means a shoulder rub. Maybe even tea and a lecture about taking breaks. You don't expect Nanami to show up in his rolled-sleeve dress shirt, tie secured around his neck, hair just slightly mussed like he ran his fingers through it too many times on the train over.

And that look he gives you? It says he's not here just to fix your posture.

"You could've called earlier," he murmurs, setting his watch on your desk. "You know I'd drop anything for you."

You smile. "Didn't want to interrupt your work—"

"I'll always make time for you."

You blink at the sudden warmth in his voice, but then he steps close. His hands are on your sides, raising goose bumps along the way, pressing softly against your lower back with soothing circles.

"Right here?" he murmurs. "Where it aches?"

"Yeah," you whisper.

"Let me fix it."

You expect pressure. Massage. Something clinical. But instead:

"Assume the position."

You blink. "You mean—"

"Face down. Elbows on the desk. Legs apart."

You do as you're told. Because of course you do. Because something in his tone makes your knees weak and your cunt throb.

He steps behind you, warm hands smoothing up your sides, over your hips, thumbs digging into the tight muscles. His touch is firm. Intentional.

And then—he pauses.

"Your lower back is tight," he mutters, voice deepening. "I'll fix it."

You thought he was going to press his fingers into your skin. What you get is his palm gliding under your waistband, fingers brushing against skin, tugging everything down in one motion.

"Nanami—"

"I said I'd take care of it. Don't talk back."

You gasp. Then you moan—loud—because his hand dips between your thighs, two fingers running through slick folds like he's confirming what he already knew.

"Hm. Wet already," he says, like it's a report he's filling. "I haven't even started."

Then you hear it. The sound of his belt. The hiss of fabric sliding down.

You arch your back instinctively.

"Desperate," he mutters. You just needed an excuse, didn't you?"

You tried to tell him that was not true, that you really just needed to have your back rubbed.

But he lines up. Grips your waist. Pushes in slow.

You choke on a moan. He's thick, long, steady as a metronome as he sinks into you, inch by inch, stretching you open like you were made for it.

Once he's fully inside, he leans over your back. His breath brushes your ear.

"This angle is perfect," he murmurs. "Let me realign your spine properly."

Then he starts moving.

Slow, measured thrusts that build tension like a clock ticking down. Every snap of his hips knocks your desk forward an inch. Every slap of skin against skin echoes off the office walls. His hands hold you in place—no escape, no mercy.

You look up—and catch his reflection in the glass window.

Loosened tie. Muscles flexing. Jaw clenched. Focused.

"Look at yourself," he says. "See what a pretty mess you are."

You do. And it makes you whimper, because Nanami is staring at your reflection too, watching himself fuck you with precision that borders on obsession.

"Taking me so well", he mutters. "Back arched perfectly. You'll thank me for this tomorrow."

You come with a cry, vision hazy, walls clenching hard around him. He groans, pace faltering as he grips your hips harder.

"Fuck—" he hisses, voice breaking as he buries himself deep, spilling inside you with a grunt. "Goddamn…"

Silence. Heavy breathing. His hand rubs lazy circles over your back as you tremble against the desk.

Then—

"Next time," he says, tucking himself away and smoothing your hair, "schedule me in advance. I'll bring proper equipment."

You laugh, breathless. "What, like a foam roller?"

He smirks. "No. Restraints."

FUSHIGURO TOJI —"DON'T TAP OUT NOW"

"Your back hurts?"

He grins like the devil he is as he pushes you flat onto the bed, tugging your hips up with a single hand and yanking your panties down with his teeth.

"Lemme guess. You want me to fix it?"

He doesn't wait for an answer.

You yelp as he flips you onto your stomach, manhandling you like he'd been waiting all night to throw you around. One big hand presses down between your shoulder blades, keeping you chest-down, ass up—exactly how he likes it.

"Cute," he mutters, dragging the head of his cock through your slick folds. "You wanted backshots, and didn't think I'd take that literally?"

You barely manage a breath before he thrusts in—deep, fast, merciless. No warm-up. No build up. Just a brutal, thick stretch that makes your eyes roll back and your fingers claw at the sheets.

"Fuckin' tight," he growls, snapping his hips into you with obscene force. "Gonna fuck the tension outta ya', princess."

Every thrust slams your hips forward. The bed creaks. Your moans are barely coherent, but he's eating them up like a man starved.

"Yeah, that's it. "You hear yourself? That sloppy little sound every time I slam into you? Fuck, you love this, huh?"

You try to speak. All that comes out is his name—half a whimper, half a plea.

Toji leans down, his body blanketing yours, cock still driving into you like he's trying to rearrange your guts. His hand fists your hair and yanks your head to the side so his mouth is at your ear.

"Say it," he snarls. "Say you wanted it just like this."

You moan. "I—I did—Toji—"

"That's right. Wanted me to ruin you, huh?" He grins against your skin, all teeth and deranged. "Back's gonna be fucked after this. And not 'cause you're sure. 'Cause I'm planting you on this mattress."

He fucks you harder.

Faster.

Filthier.

You're drooling into the sheets, ass smacking loud with every thrust, your body reduced to trembles as he pounds into you like it's a sport.

"Tap out if it's too much," he says smugly, already knowing you won't.

Because the second he angles his hips just right, your body seizes around him and you come violently, sobbing into the pillow as your thighs quake.

"Fuck," Toji growls, losing rhythm. "Takin' me so good, ma—shit, I'm gonna—"

He buries himself to the hilt, lets out a broken moan, and fills you with a load so warm and thick it drips from around the base before he's even pulled back.

For a second, the only sound is both of you breathing hard.

Then he leans back, slaps your ass, and grins.

“Still sore?”

You twitch.

He laughs.

“Good. We’ll go again in five.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA —"YOU ASKED FOR A GOD, DIDN'T YOU?"

"Back hurts, huh?"

Sukuna laughs like you just said something adorable. The kind of laugh that chills your spine—because he's already behind you, already hard, and already decided what kind of night it's going to be.

You poor thing," he coos mockingly. "Let me fuck the pain right out of you."

You're already chest down, ass in the air, thighs trembling from the first orgasm he barely let you recover from. And now?

Now it's worse.

Because all four of his hands are on you—one spreading your ass, another gripping your throat from underneath, the third one cradling your belly to feel every deep thrust, and the four slapping down over your spine just to keep you pinned.

His cock is buried to the hilt, thick and veiny and monstrously deep, rutting into you with relentless force. Every time he slams in, you jolt forward, breath punched from your lungs, drool slipping past your lips onto the sheets.

"Fuck, listen to you," he growls. "Sloppy, wet, desperate—my perfect little cocksleeve."

You moan something that might be his name, and his laugh turns darker.

"That's right. Cry for me. Moan for me. This is what you wanted, isn't it? On your knees for a god?"

He leans in, tongue dragging up your spine as he pounds into you harder—deep, brutal backshots that make your ass ripple, his name a broken chant on your lips.

"You wanted worship?" he hisses. "Then take it. I'll worship every inch of you—while I fucking ruin you."

He presses kisses to the back of your neck between thrusts, almost tender—if not for the vicious snap of his hips and the way his fingers bruise your skin as he holds you down.

"You think anyone else can fuck you like this?" he growls, voice a gravel rasp in your ear. "Think anyone else could own you like this?"

Your moans are incoherent now, your body a mess of pleasure and overstimulation. Your knees buckle, and he catches you with ease—two hands holding you up, the others lifting your hips back into place.

"Don't you dare fall now," he hisses. "I'm not done. Not until you forget what walking feels like."

Your climax slams into you like a tidal wave—legs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream, everything white-hot. You clamp down around him, and he groans, shoving in one last time before he fills you, cock twitching as he pumps you full.

He doesn't pull out.

Instead, he strokes your trembling sides with surprisingly gentle hands, his voice low and smug:

"You break so beautifully for me."

A pause.

Then his tongue flicks against your ear.

"…Round two, pet?"

[technofeudalism]

i'm sorry.. what?

PHILADELPHIA (CBS) -- Philadelphia Municipal Court is resuming evictions as early as Monday, saying landlord tenant officers have now received training on use of force and de-escalation tactics.

landlord.. tenant.. officers?

"Though the sheriff has the power to serve evictions, the task is usually handled by a private force hired by a court-appointed attorney known as the landlord-tenant officer. These private security contractors — who are often armed — have long been a part of the local eviction system."

so landlords have their own private military? this is class warfare

This follows the court suspending all evictions in July after multiple tenants were shot during evictions over the past several months. In one incident in March, a plainclothes landlord tenant officer shot a woman in the head. In another incident in July, police said a woman was shot in the leg. A spokesperson for the court's Landlord and Tenant Office said evictions will now be conducted in teams of two officers who have all received Pennsylvania Constable training.

this is LITERALLY class warfare

The LTO is funded by service fees from landlords and not taxpayer money. Fees to landlords will increase from $145 to $350 to cover the additional staff, training and insurance costs.

and who the fuck do you think is going to end up ultimately paying those fees in the end? where do you think the landlords are going to get the money? you're just giving them an excuse to raise the rent. oh my god this country is a complete and total failed state.

[cbs]

[dawnwriterimagines]

Rewriting Part 5 of Traitors Among Us

CLEAR SKIES (A Rewrite)

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x PLATONIC!FEM!READER Rewrite of PART 5 of Traitors Among Us

Traitors Among Us Masterlist

Summary: With your resignation approved, Price discovers you've resigned. You head back to begin to pack your life away from Task Force 141, running into those who've betrayed you.

Author Note: Soooo, I decided to rewrite Clear Skies: part 5 of Traitors Among Us because...I didn't like it as much lol, and it wasn't received as nicely as the other parts. It's pretty much completely different lol. So, here I am rewriting this part! Don't worry, the multiple endings of Traitors Among Us will be releasing very soon...

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Silence filled the air in the Chief Officer’s office, thick with tension. Captain John Price stood rigid, arms crossed, eyes locked on Laswell as she calmly sipped from her tea, her lips set in an almost casual line. He’d expected a straightforward debrief, not this.

“You did what?” Price’s voice was low, disbelieving. His brow furrowed, the anger creeping in like a slow burn.

Having arrived at the administrative building, delivering his mission reports and making his way into Laswell's office. Captain John Price wasn't expecting to receive the surprising news so casually that the woman in front of him had signed off on your resignation, without so much as consulting with him, your Captain.

"I gave her what she wanted, John," Laswell rolled her eyes, sitting in her seat. "I let her go. She was never about to meet with you, and I won't let a soldier like that leave, under my supervision, without some type of severance," she speaks, casually, tapping her spoon of tea along the rim of a porcelain mug. "I do apologize, I was actually preparing a better way to tell you this. Time got away from me, I suppose." Although, Laswell says so unapologetically as she takes her first sip with a hum.

Price blinked, caught off guard by the detached nature of her words. He shook his head slowly, still processing.

"Severance?" Price gritted. "She didn't lose her place on the force, Laswell. She's on temporary leave for recovery not discharged--I would've never--"

"Oh, stop it, John," Sweeping away a few locks of hair, Laswell sits back in her chair. "Even if, would it matter? The girl's petrified of you, if she saw you she might actually kill you," she can't help but release a humored hum. "Willing to turn down her pension, her insurance, just to resign in peace.

She would've never come to you, and you were foolish enough to think she'd stay," she laughs this time at the absurdity of it. "She wanted an out," she takes another sip, shrugging. "I gave it to her." She then slides a few papers her way, preparing to continue her paperwork, interrupted for the second time today.

Slamming a hand over the stack of papers, Price can't contain the expression twisting his face, his anger, his grief. "Let her what?! You stripped her of her title, does she know that? There is no lawful resignation without my signature, what've you done?"

"Well, you are in need of a Demolition Operative now, I will say," she hummed, tapping the spoon against the rim of her mug, her voice annoyingly casual. "I already have someone in mind, luckily for you."

"Operative Gray is an integral part of this Task Force, it's not up to you how I handle my team anywhere outside of our missions, Laswell," Price hardly held his tone.

“Funny, John,” Laswell mused, not looking up, her voice dripping with dry amusement. “I seem to remember you handling a certain... situation under my orders.” Her eyes met his now, sharp and calculating. "Just fine."

Price’s jaw tightened, and the old guilt gnawed at him. “The worst mistake I’ve made on the force.” His voice was quiet but raw.

Laswell’s smile didn’t fade a bit. “No, John,” she said softly, her tone almost teasing now. “Your mistake is thinking you have any authority here that I don’t already have.”

Price froze for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. He reached for the papers on the desk, his hand curling into a fist before he let them go. Laswell slid the stack back across the desk with a single, deliberate motion, then stood up.

As she passed him, her shoulder brushed against his, and he stiffened, barely holding himself together.

“Oh, John,” she said, almost too sweetly. “The military is engrained in all of us. In your blood. In hers. Don’t worry,” she hummed, tapping the edge of a file. “She’ll be back. They always come back. In one way or another.”

"Well..." Laswell shrugs, calmly. "Just never to Task Force 141," she turns back to Captain Price, dismissed him with a wave, leaning back in her chair., slipping a file from her desk. "Not like that wasn't the original plan before our informant came clean, hm?"

Wary, grieving eyes drift away from the Station Chief, chest tight. "Well what about Gray?" Price swallows. "I can't allow her to leave without everything she deserves from her service, I won't."

"Christ, John, you take the fun out of everything nowadays." Laswell’s smirk faded into something more calculating, more serious, before rolling her eyes. "We'll hold off on that for now," before Price can interject, she holds up a new folder, stamped a harsh red CLASSIFIED, it glares up at him. "You and your team have other matters to discuss."

Price hesitated, brows furrowed. He took the folder, the tension in his muscles still tight. He opened it quickly, scanning the document with a sharp eye. His face darkened as he read, the information weighing a heavy burden, but nothing he could say was undeserved.

Lips pressing tight together, John Price presses down into the folder hard, creasing the papers and clenching his jaw. Fuck.

---

The sliding doors open automatically, the lobby going quiet at the sight of your sopping wet figure stumbling through the entrance. Dropping your hands from over your head, you pause to stare down those who held eye contact too comfortably, quickly their stares dropped.

Entering the residential building, it's nearly midnight, the mess halls still quite lively, soldiers prepping for their next mission or staying guard in the halls. Your boots squeak with every step unwarrantedly, trailing a puddle as you shuffle your way down the hallway, face flushed cold from the rain.

The hall seems much too long suddenly, the wet squeak along the marble floor, the damp cling of your clothes to your skin, the uncomfortable twist of your brace around your legs, the pruning of your fingers. You were ready to just lock yourself away in your room, pack and never see even the silhouette of this place ever again.

Rushing to the elevator, ignoring the whispers, the burning eyes on the back of your head, you rub your clothed arms to warm yourself up, soaked to the bone. Stealing a jacket from one of the racks before leaving the building, it wasn't as insulated as you'd hoped but it was better than nothing, or Kyle's pity wear.

Pressing the upper arrow, you wait for it to light up.

It doesn't.

So you press it again. This time it does glow, finally.

...But, no opening.

You wait a few seconds, then check the electronic number above.

1.

First Floor.

You press the arrow again. Waiting for the doors to open.

Clearing your throat, you press down on the down arrow this time. Just open up.

Nothing again.

Motherfucker...

A few heads turn while you press the buttons on the elevator one too many times, taking a breath as you continue to tap on the buttons along the panel. You didn't care as long as it would just open. Up. Down. Up. Up. Up. Down. Fucking somewhere, just open the fuck UP!

"Just fuckin open..." you grit out, attempting to keep your nerves down. For all you knew, Simon or Price, or Kyle or Johnny, could've seen you enter the building, they could be walking up to you right now. The very thought had you anxiously holding down on the elevator buttons, contemplating the stairs but walking was already a hassle with your brace. "Open. Open, open, open!"

"Open!" Your fist coming up in frustration to slam into the panel, the metal creaks and bends back but it doesn't make the elevator go any faster. It does hurt your hand though.

Taking your now sore fingers into your grip, pressing into your knuckles, your nostrils flare and you take a breath. You don't dare turn around as you hear the chuckle behind you, you can feel your teeth already grinding to nubs.

"So, you're the reason this thing breaks down every week, huh?" sliding up next to you, a soldier, lieutenant by the single silver bar on the shoulder of his uniform, his kevlar unhooked and new, prepping for departure. "Ya know, you can't make it go any faster that way?" nodding to the dented panel, before flashing a charmed smile your way.

Narrowed eyes link with his. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, all he can do is stare back, words lost on his tongue as he darts between your eyes, mesmerized. His smile doesn't drop even as he clear his throat, "I just mean, you'll hurt your...hand."

"Oh, will I? I didn't know that," you wonder, sarcastically. Before, hitting the panel again, a louder bang sounds in the hallway, causing attention. "Maybe I'm doing it wrong." A screw comes loose with a cling, your jaw twitching at the sound as he only huffs a humored sound.

"Yeah," he chuckles briefly as the metal falls with a klunk. "You're quite the mechanic."

"Can I help you, lieutenant?"

"Just a stranger, looking out for another, that's all," the lieutenant says simply.

"Ok, Stranger," you speak, this time turning your back as the elevator finally beeps as it descends to the ground floor. You direct your chin back to where he came. "You can leave now."

He feigned disappointment. "Ouch," he sported a playful grin. "I thought we were getting along pretty well."

"Well I'm sure you've got a flight to catch, don't let a stranger make you late."

"The only stranger I've met worth being late for," he says, genuinely.

"Oh!" Surprised, you glance away from him. "Subtle," you take a step back, uncomfortable with the space between the both of you now. You lean against the edge of the elevator door, it dings again, your knee brace wasn't helping your leg pain at all.

His charming smile fades, brows lifting as he quickly backs off, reading the lines. "Oh, sorry, I-"

"No," you clear your throat, hearing the ding of the elevator behind you. "No, no I'm just..." your hand goes to your ring finger, you used to fidget with your engagement ring all the time, there used to be a tan line imprinting it along your skin, now that same finger was scarred up to the nail. "I'm just not the flirting type right now." Your hand tensing up, balling into a fist, you'd nearly forgotten...

"Ah," He notices, clearing his throat, embarrassed at himself. "You're with someone."

You wanted to scoff at that, not anymore.

"No," Your knuckles cracked. "Just uninterested." Your hand falls to your side. The years you'd spent loving Simon, adoring him, fighting beside him, all that time...it was painful to know it would all just lead up to this. But, it was easier now to just feel nothing because it ended such a way.

The elevator opens and the both of you looks back towards it.

The lieutenant's eyes flicker back to you. "M' sorry," your brows lift in question. "About your...lover."

"He's not dead," you say.

His lips press together, thoughtfully, before nodding once. "Sounds like quite the guy."

"No idea," you scoff, an understatement indeed.

After a moment of silence, the elevator door, with a squeak, beginning to close. The persistent stranger puts his hand out before you have to, fully stopping the closing door before it can seal, taking a large step to catch it.

You froze as he unintentionally corners you, for the moment take him in, analyzing every detail as you'd always done as a soldier. His hair and clothes damp from the rain, cheeks flushed for a reason you weren't sure of.

He reminded you terrifyingly of Simon. Though the two had to be quite different in all capacities besides ranking and muscle definition.

He's tall, wide broad shoulders, a scar curved through his left brow to his temple, green wide eyes and he smelled...warm, was the only way you could describe it. You're sure his skin would feel as so.

You were quite cold from the rain, though you've been freezing ever since that day and you've never gotten past the phantom cold, eager to be warm again.

Not once in this disturbing, cold and humiliating event had you ever felt a moment of comfort. Of warm, loving comfort. A single embrace would destroy your every resolve. Not a minute, not a second, not a breath of warmth.

Your eyes flicker up, surprised to meet his staring back, seemingly taking you in the same way. His hand leaving the opening elevator door, to rest above the wall above your head. He was close enough for you to feel the leather of his kevlar against the back of your hand, for once your first thought wasn't to push someone away. His gaze lingers on the fresh scar beneath your eye, the tinted pink fading in the white of it.

"You shouldn't do that," you breathe.

There's nothing good here left for you anymore.

You're no longer a soldier.

"Do what?" he asked.

No longer apart of the Task Force, no longer apart of any of this.

And the scars you'd be left with just for being here...

Bringing your hand up to your face, running over the raised, ruined skin, your jaw tightening and your lips pressing together. You shift to the side, your hand finding the handle grip along the sides of the elevator doors.

He notices, straightening, awkwardly. Swallowing thickly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..." he squeezes his fist, as if berating himself internally. "--that's quite the memorabilia." Again his expression twists at his own question, fist squeezing, that was a dumb thing to ask.

"It is," you grazed the tender flesh of your scars. "Isn't it."

"I'm sure you've got quite the story."

Lips pressing together hard, fingers curling into your palm as if your own scars had burned you.

"Um..." going into detail meant a lot of things you didn't want to confront right now, pressing the button for the elevator again, it opens this time. "I appreciate the conversation, stranger. But, you should go."

"I'm sorry-" he realized he'd touched unsavory ground, voice lowered with regret. "I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," you swallowed thickly, taking a breath. "It was nice to meet you truly."

He follows you to the divide of the open elevator as you step in and though the divide, turning to see his face, desperate for a glimpse of yours.

Your stranger speaks soundly. "Wes."

His name you realized, you press your lips together, thoughtfully as he stares at you, not expecting anything in return, seeming peaceful with you just...knowing. The elevator doors slipping closed. You say nothing else, but you can't help but look at him differently, humming softly. You supposed he was no longer a stranger.

"Ok..." you managed a meaningful smile that struggled to begin. "Wes, then."

You could see the relief in the drop of his shoulders.

As the metal doors ding in preparation to close, you catch a glimpse of someone beyond your persistent stranger, as he turns to leave.

An approaching figure that enters the building, exiting the rain with heavy steps, dragging his feet along the marble, a black mask painted white along the curves of his mouth and nose, a skull. Stalking the halls like the ghost he preferred to be, Simon.

And he haunts you as so.

You hardly notice as the doors begin to close, a sinking feeling in your stomach erupting as you made eye contact with Simon Riley.

His slow, deliberate steps become nonexistent, he's instantly rooted to the floor, you were sure he'd even stopped breathing.

Though you felt your blood run cold, your chest squeezing violently with ache, and a rage in your soul that begged you to claw his fucking eyes out and rip out his heart like he'd done to you weeks ago, you didn't freeze.

No, instead your hand comes out, taking the closing end of the elevator door. It pauses with an electronic strain of its gears beneath your resistance, while you stare unblinkingly at your Ghost. And it opens again with a light ding.

Simon's eyes widen a fraction, he straightens noticeably, hopefully. His hand coming up, pulling at his mask, the skulls creasing down to reveal himself to you, but he'd remain as so...your ghost.

"(Y/n)..." you can hear the whisper of your name from his lips, but you've turned from him now.

Stepping forward and off the divide of the elevator, you take Wes by the arm, pulling him back around to you, his eyes are wide in surprise, innocent enough to have never expected more from your encounter and unable to find the nerve to speak smoothly now that you're making a move.

"Sorry..." you breathe to him, before reaching up and pressing your mouth to his.

It's not a messy kiss.

It's hardly a kiss.

But, it gets the message across.

You had loved Simon, completely and utterly. There was no punch or kick you could ever throw at Simon that could convey the collapse of those feelings.

So this, was the next best thing.

As Wes melts into your lips for the brief moment of surprise intimacy of a stranger, you cup the back of his neck, as you've done many times for Simon. Eyes opening to gaze back to your ghost, and as you do, you're not surprised to see him practically looming over the two of you.

He's a mess of himself. A fraction of the man he was before. A ghost of himself.

But, he'd always been a ghost to be feared.

As Wes's hand climbs up to grip at your hair, you retreat back, tucking your hair back and taking a breath.

Your guiltless eyes blink up to Wes, "You should go."

Hardly given a moment to recuperate, still reorganizing the thoughts you'd taken and filled him with all in the seconds you'd spared him with. He, rightfully confused, breathes. "What?"

"She said, you should go."

As Simon speaks, voice heavy with emotion, anger and resentment but most of all hurt, PAIN. Only then do your lungs fill with air again, untainted by the weight of your fears of him, of broken dreams and memories your defiled love.

"My dead lover's risen again," you speak, sarcastically. Staring down the hollow-eyed man, "A ghost."

The metal doors close with a light thud.

And so, maybe you had no fear of him anymore. Maybe you were tired of being frightened. Whatever it was had more guts than you had the energy to have in the last few weeks.

Because the next thing you know, you're shoving past Wes, blood red in the tint of your vision, your fingers expertly popping the gun out of his holster and you take your aim at Simon.

He doesn't flinch.

Neither do you.

Your finger is steady on the trigger. And you pull.

---

The subtle light of the safe house cast shadows across the room, the usual tension of Task Force 141 momentarily replaced by an air of anticipation. Everyone knew but you. Ghost stood slightly apart from the group, his mask hiding the myriad of emotions that flickered beneath. He’d planned this moment carefully and yet being trapped in a safe house during the night of the dinner he'd planned for you both wasn't apart of it. It was still meant to be tonight.

Your lover stared at you in the reflection of the window, catching your beautiful eyes in the glass, they sparkle and his bones feel liquid and he nearly loses his grip on the velvet box. What better time could there be?

Ghost turned to you, pulling his mask away, revealing Simon Riley, garnering your attention with a surprised stare, "What's...goin' on?"

His deep voice steady yet laced with a rare vulnerability. “Wherever you are, I wanna be,” he took a step. "Wherever you go, whether you like it or not, I'm goin' too."

"Stalker," you quipped, though your voice could barely reach a whisper as you stared at the tiny box in his hand, watching as he came closer.

He cracked a smile, but he continued. "Everywhere you are, anywhere you want to be, if you'll let me, since you're right...I just can't stay away," he teased, watching as you short circuit as he approaches steadfast. "...and if you want me, as you'll have me...I wanna be everywhere you are."

The team fell silent, the weight of the moment sinking in. Price raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk dancing on his lips, while Johnny tried to stifle a grin, Kyle cursed quietly shifting in anticipation. "The best thing I've ever held onto in this life is you. It will always be you."

Simon takes the closing steps to you, watching you closely, the two of you sharing the same overwhelming expression, though yours freer in its willingness to express. He was being serious. This was really happening. "I can't imagine taking on this life of chaos without you."

With a small, almost hesitant movement, Simon revealed the velvet box. The flicker of metal caught the light as he produced a small box, his hands surprisingly unsteady. His eyes momentarily flickering downwards before gathering the nerve to look you in the eye again. “We’ve been through hell, we're in the aftermath of it now, another glimpse not far behind, but there’s no one I'll ever know, that I’d rather have by my side.” He dropped to one knee, the rest of the team exchanging glances, a mix of excitement and surprise evident in their expressions. "No one but you."

As Simon kneels before you, your heart races, disbelief clear on your face, brows furrowing into each other, watering as you look to him, all your feelings flooding your senses. His words echo in your mind, and the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you.

“Marry me...” His voice was firm, yet you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he waited with baited breath, his shoulders halting all movement as he wouldn't take a single breath until your answer. "I'll choose you. I'll choose you every time..." The room held its breath, the only sound the quiet rustle of fabric as the team leaned in slightly, as if to witness a moment that transcended their usual world of warfare. "Marry me..." his voice is a breath against your skin.

You feel your heart race with feelings that seared itself into your soul, a moment that would never leave you, your vision blurred with tears. "Simon..." the world narrowing down to Simon and the hope in his gaze. The silence was palpable, a shared moment of vulnerability among seasoned soldiers. Finally, you nodded, emotions swirling as a smile broke across your face. “Yes,” you laughed with a sob, nodding as you wiped your face. "Of course, Simon. Yes!"

Simon rose, slipping the ring onto your finger as cheers erupted from the team. The laughter and joyful roars of Task Force 141, your family, fade into the background as you focus solely on Simon, the man you love.

Johnny clapped Simon on the back, Price grinned widely, laughing heartily in glee, and Kyle let out a whoop of approval. In that moment, amidst the chaos of their lives, there was a rare glimpse of hope and happiness—a reminder of what they were truly fighting for.

---

The clouds, still held hostage by the night, moved almost imperceptibly through the midnight air, the rain having stopped by now and the stars taking action to be seen beyond.

You breathe evenly, stroking the broken skin of your knuckles, smearing the blood that still leaked through and picking at the dried specks of it along your nails.

Heavy hangs the air as you sit in your silence, nothing but the light scrapes of your nails along your own skin. Then, a heavy padding of footsteps outside the door, your eyes drawing to the movement as a shadow pulls along the flooring of the lighting beneath the doorway, the door clicks open.

A round-faced, army suited man, your attorney, enters the room, behind him two men standing at attention, stomping his dark boots down onto the old wood eager to be noticed, lifting a document to read. "Sergeant (L/N), due to potential endangerment of yourself and your fellow man, you are to be supervised continuously throughout the night until the remainder of your scheduled departure from central Orloz Military Base.

From there, as requested, all contact will be terminated, all personal and packaged requests, terminated. All inquiries, all personal and otherwise familial advises for continued contact, terminated. Due to the nature of your injuries and the unprecedented circumstances brought upon by the events of June 23rd 2023, you've been pardoned from additional..."

What use is there listening to more?

Leaning your head against the cool glass, you let yourself fall blissfully unaware of his voice, drowning in the sea of your own mind.

You stare down at the scars enveloping your hands, your wrists, still raw and sensitive even now. Along your ring finger was the imprint of your engagement ring, it would fade with time, but nothing else would.

You felt so blind, so dumb for thinking this family was ever real, that they were anymore than colleagues, soldiers of war. An idiot for believing in Ghost, believing that he was more than the soldier you'd fought beside for a decade.

Who would've thought things would've turned out this way.

The weight of everything—the heartbreak, the disappointments—were pressing down on your chest like a block of cement.

Letting the absent, warm tears fall down your cheeks, soaking into the dampness of your shirt.

You press your palms into your thighs, trying to ground yourself, but the overwhelming feeling spiraled further, tightening your throat till it hurt.

---

Simon's face is burned red with scratches, blood smeared along his face. His hand holds tight to your wrist, the gun having long fallen from your grip, the entryway still smoking from a missed fire.

Your teeth pull at Simon's exposed skin, biting down on the skin of his wrist until you can feel it snap away from the bone, resistance failing the muscles.

With a pained groan, Simon pushes you back into the metal doors of the elevator, "Stop this, (Y/n)!" he hissed at you, as he locks you into his grip, cornering you as soldiers come forward at the commotion.

"You promised," came your voice, your mouth filled with blood, a chunk of his flesh from your mouth as he shoves your neck into the metal divider, keeping you as still as possible. "You promised you'd choose me..."

Simon's twisted expression unravels as he hears his own vowed words from your tortured lips, seeing glimpses of the woman he's always loved in the livid, scorned woman he'd left behind in that cell.

"(Y/n)..." he began, his grip loosening.

Clicks of rifles and heavy booted steps filled the dormitory, interrupting him. "HANDS UP!"

---

"...if you're in understanding of these terms, we can proceed as stated."

"...Yeah," you whispered. "Understood."

"Thank you for your service, Sergeant (L/N)," he saluted shortly, before picking his beret off the table and walking out of the room. "Your assistance to the dormitories will be available shortly."

So, when he leaves, claiming to be back to escort you back to your quarters, you sit there. You sat there for hours. Or maybe it just felt like it. Either way, it didn't matter.

This time tomorrow you'd be off base, no longer a soldier but a citizen of no one, with no one to turn to and disowned by your family...

What was there to look forward to now?

Your hand comes up, tracing the water lines running down the glass, the ray of light from the street lamps that burn into the room, stinging at your eyes and lighting up the evening.

A streak of red follows your stained fingers.

Dried blood melting off your skin and running down the glass, falling slow.

Nothing to look forward to at all...

Multiple Endings coming soon. The end of Traitors Among Us... STAY TUNED

ENDING ONE

[cy-cyborg]

Hi, I saw your rant-post about amputee representation and you brought up cyborgs/cyberpunk again.

Tbh I just stumbled upon your blog yesterday because I wanted to see what thoughts people on tumblr have about writing cyborgs, you know prompts, ideas, anything really and then I found your posts about amputee and realised that it's much deeper than just "okay what do other people think how to care about cybernetic enhancements?" but more like okay, I need to be careful in how I write this side character so I won't cause harm.

And yeah. I don't know if you answer asks like this but I was wondering since you mentioned it now again, how you wish the cyberpunk genre would represent amputees? Like what kind of issues should not be just "fixed" by tech no matter how advanced it is?

I would really like to try and represent my amputee character in a good way. I'm just a bit insecure on how to proceed.

Thanks!

Hey, I'm glad to hear that I made you think!

I have a post and video on my page (somewhere under all these asks lol) about the "prefect prosthetic" trope, which is a good place to start! Mainly, you want to focus on making something about the cybernetics different to the real thing, outside of just appearances. You don't want it to just be "arm, but shiny metal" - something about the way it functions should change.

For cyberpunk in particular though, I HIGHLY suggest looking at some of the shitty behaviour the irl prosthetic component manufacturers already do. Things like forcing amputees to have their logos on their bodies (and penalising us if we try to cover/remove them by voiding the warranty), which can actually be a problem for amputees wanting to go into jobs like acting or modelling, because you have a brand logo on you. Things like my prosthetic leg collecting data about me and my activity levels, which can be used against me to prove I'm not "using it enough" to warrant getting it fixed/replaced by insurance (in Australia, we have the NDIS but they work off the same principles) - that's also deeply unnerving to think about in general and you could take that a lot further in a cyberpunk setting. Also not making prosthetics for certain body types despite the tech being available, because there's "no demand for it" but they're the reason there's no demand. e.g. many companies don't make prosthetic leg components for people above a specific weight, because "people who are that big don't usually use prosthetics" but we don't use prosthetics because none of the existing components are safe for us to use, so we can't use them, which means there's no demand, so they don't make them and it becomes a weird cycle. this has contributed to MASSIVE issues with eating disorders in amputee circles as people desperately try to force themselves into the "acceptable" weight window so they don't loose the ability to walk.

Also, if you're going to tackle the "how much of your body can you replace with robotics before you stop being human/stop being you" question, be sure to tread carefully and remember that there are already real people who you might be (unintentionally) discussing the humanity of.

[kinky-cas]

Jack should have tattled about the empty deal because the huge blowout fight Dean and Cas would have had about it would have been SO fun to watch for me personally.

Jack lets something slip (accidentally? on purpose? idk) when they're all in the library and Dean slowly turns to look at Cas.

"And when, exactly, were you planning on telling me—us about this?"

*Cas, jaw tensed* "I wasn't."

(at this point, Sam grabs Jack by the arm and starts backing out of the room)

"You weren't. Of course you weren't. Because secrets and deals always end so well for us."

"We have more important things to worry about right now, Dean. This isn't exactly pressing."

"A deal that could get you taken by an ancient eldritch force at any time isn't pressing?! "

*bitchy sigh* "At any time is a flagrant exaggeration. I wasn't exactly concerned about triggering it accidentally, or soon. It's hardly any of your business, anyways."

"None of my business? None of my business that you made a deal with some eldritch entity that has a personal grudge against you. A deal for your life, Cas!"

"I have full confidence in my ability to manage it, as I have been managing it, and the terms aren't impacting anyone else."

"Oh, because you think you keeping yourself miserable all the time is just a you problem, huh?"

"Definitionally, yes, it is a "me problem", Dean."

"Right, because you don't think the rest of us are at all impacted by knowing that if you're happy it'll literally kill you?"

"Well if things had gone as planned you wouldn't have had to know, would you?"

"Not knowing is worse! And besides, Jack still knew! You were going to let him carry that by himself? Did you ever consider what that kind of knowledge can do to a kid? What it would have done to him when the Empty did eventually take you? Because it sure doesn't seem like you had any plan to get out of the deal eventually!"

"Don't you dare make your issues with this about Jack. I won't apologize to you for saving his life, and frankly I don't understand why we're discussing this. The deal is already made, and I am not going to risk Jack's life by interfering with it now. I've been perfectly fine so far. This discussion is pointless."

"Pointless. Pointless? A discussion about the deal that's apparently just waiting to kill you is pointless?"

"I don't see what arguing about this will accomplish. It was my choice to offer my life in exchange for Jack's, and my "happiness" is certainly a more than worthwhile trade for his life and safety. Are you implying otherwise?"

"That is not what I meant and you know it. Of course I'm glad we have Jack back, that's not my point!"

"Then pray, tell, Dean, what is your point? Because as far as I can see it, the only purpose this discussion is serving is as totally unnecessary additional insurance against the Empty showing up right now."

"And what's that supposed to mean??"

*audible eyeroll* "I don't know, Dean, clearly I'm thrilled to be arguing with you right now—"

(this goes on for another 20 minutes, and ends with neither of them talking to each other for at least 3 days. and then we get to see dean being paranoid about cas being happy and guilty about cas NOT feeling happy all at once, and tying himself up into knots about it.)

[ds-angel1]

dealer!rafe x brainwashed!reader

cw: drugs like lots and lots, ODing, mention of SMUT(18+), hospital, mention of puking, reader is basically kidnapped lmaoo, handcuffs, incorrect medical talk and drug talk

wc: ~ 1.9k

a/n: first req that I´ve fulfilled!!!! working on all the others rn, I PROMISE!! also, I´m reworking my masterlist cause it ain´t working :3

here’s the intro/drabble to them!

Your heart slammed against your ribs, erratic and desperate, a caged animal gnawing at the bars. The world teetered, flickering in and out of focus as your eyelids fought to stay open, to cling to consciousness, but it was slipping, sand spilling through your trembling fingers. A thick, suffocating warmth coiled around your limbs, seeping into your bones, poisoning you from the inside out. It slithered through your veins like a viper, whispering in your blood, coaxing your body toward surrender.

Move. You had to move.

But your body wasn’t yours anymore. The command never reached your muscles, and they lay useless, dead weight against damp sheets that clung to your fevered skin. A pitiful sound, yours, barely a breath, drifted from your lips as you forced your head to the side. Just a little. Just enough.

The door. Rafe’s door.

The dark frame swam in your vision, shifting and blurring, the chaos beyond it melting into a meaningless smear. The world shrank, closing in, the edges curling like burning paper. Black dots bled into your sight, multiplying, spreading, and devouring. Your chest stuttered, lungs gasping, body writhing in its final, feeble protest.

But it was useless. The fever of overdose wrapped its fingers around your throat. And this time, you lost.

Darkness swallowed you whole.

_

Rafe exhaled sharply, the sound bordering on a growl. The hospital chair groaned as he pushed himself up again. Paced again. The relentless, jittery energy under his skin refused to settle, clawing at his ribs, rattling in his skull. His teeth ached from grinding, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms.

The dull hospital light did you no favors. It cast you in shades of ghostly white and sickly yellow, illuminating every fragile line of your body against the stiff sheets. Your arms were riddled with IVs, tubes feeding you life drop by drop, undoing what he’d done.

He should have been worried. He should have been fucking devastated. Instead, he was livid. Not at you. No, never at you. At himself. Because he had done this.

He had forgotten.

Forgot the way he pressed those pills into your palm that morning, his fingers brushing yours with something almost gentle—before he shoved them past your lips himself. A prelude. A sedative. A quieting. He forgot the way they melted on your tongue, dissolving into something heavy, something thick, something that made your heartbeat drag in your ears like a slow, drowning metronome. How your breath turned to syrup, each inhale a weight you could barely carry. How it made it easier for him. How it made you easier.

He forgot the way his fingers curled around your throat, a slow and lazy pressure, just enough to make your vision blur at the edges while he worked himself between your thighs.

He forgot the way he tilted your chin up later, the rough pad of his thumb dragging over your lip as he held the joint to your mouth. Smoke in. Obedience out. His way of keeping you quiet, pliant, while he murmured something about dinner, something about how you needed to stop fucking whining. How the tendrils of gray curled toward the ceiling while your thoughts were shot clean through, splattered against the walls of your mind before they could form into anything useful.

And he forgot, of course, when he was fixing his cufflinks, adjusting the crisp white collar of his shirt, black suit clinging to him like sin itself. How he lined up neat little rows of coke for you, a final insurance policy against your clarity, against your ability to recognize the shape of his absence.

He hadn’t thought much about it.

Not until your body was convulsing in his passenger seat, bile dripping from your chin, your breath coming in shallow, failing gasps. Not until the doctor stood before him now, murmuring things like irregular heartbeat, overdose risk, weeks without substances.

No drugs. Five to six weeks. Maybe forever. He almost laughed. Did they think that was enough time for you to grow a spine? To find your way out?

No. You wouldn’t leave. You couldn’t leave.

His jaw twitched, his fingers flexing. The thought of you outside his walls, beyond his control, out of his grasp, no, no, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

He had carved you out of nothing, molded you into something beautiful, something his. And you would stay with him. Locked away in that vast, hollow mansion. Lost inside the walls he built around you. Forever.

No matter how many bruises, handcuffs, or locks it took.

_

You woke up slowly as if being dragged out of the depths of something thick and suffocating. Consciousness seeped in like a slow, unwelcome tide, bringing with it the dull, throbbing ache in your skull, the rawness of your throat, the stiffness of your limbs. Your tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth, and the air was stale, thick with something unidentifiable, something oppressive.

The first thing you saw was the ceiling, a high, vaulted expanse of white. It was unfamiliar, but the scent in the air, the underlying trace of expensive cologne and something darker, something purely him, told you where you were before you even turned your head.

Rafe’s house.

Panic unfurled in your gut like a coiled serpent finally roused. Your pulse stammered, adrenaline cutting through the remnants of whatever fog still clung to your mind. You tried to move, to sit up, but resistance met your wrists, cold, unyielding metal.

Handcuffs.

The realization came slow, sluggish under the weight of exhaustion and withdrawal. Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

His voice. Silky smooth, laced with amusement, the kind that slithered under your skin and made you feel small. You turned your head, muscles protesting the movement, and there he was. Sitting in the chair beside the bed, legs sprawled, fingers tapping idly against his knee. His blue eyes locked onto yours with quiet intensity, with possession.

“Rafe,” your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

His lips twitched, something like satisfaction flickering across his face before vanishing just as quickly. “You had a rough night.”

Your stomach twisted. Flashes of memory stabbed through the haze, your body convulsing, the taste of bile, the cold, sterile lights of the hospital. The tubes, the machines, the doctors murmuring over you. Overdose.

You swallowed, throat burning. “Let me go.”

He let out a short, almost incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

You pulled against the cuffs, metal biting into your skin. “Rafe, please—”

His eyes darkened, his jaw ticking. “You almost fucking died.”

The words were sharp, slicing through the thick air like a blade. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze pinning you in place. “You think I’m gonna let that happen again?”

Your breath hitched. “It’s my life.”

His hand shot out, fingers curling around your jaw in a bruising grip. “No,” he murmured, voice low, lethal. “It’s mine.”

A shiver raked through you, whether from fear or withdrawal, you weren’t sure. The air between you crackled, heavy with something unspoken, something twisted.

He exhaled slowly, loosening his grip but not pulling away. His thumb brushed over your cheek, almost tender. Almost. “This is for your good,” he said softly. “No drugs. No leaving. Just you and me.”

Your stomach churned. The implications sank in like weights dragging you under.

No escape. No control. No freedom. His world. His rules. Forever.

_

The first few days were hell.

Your body rebelled against itself, convulsing in fits of tremors so violent they rattled the headboard, muscles twisting in agonizing spasms. Sweat soaked the sheets beneath you, drenching your skin, your clothes, and your hair. Fever burned through you in waves, relentless, scorching, leaving you shivering in its wake. Your stomach clenched in protest, empty but still heaving, the dry retches leaving your throat raw and useless. Every inch of you ached, skin too tight, bones brittle, your blood screaming for something, anything, to quiet the chaos.

Rafe was always there.

Perched in that chair, watching. Sometimes silent, sometimes murmuring things you couldn't understand past the static in your brain. Occasionally, he'd press a damp cloth to your forehead, his touch ghosting over your fevered skin, deceptively gentle. Other times, when the withdrawal had its claws in you deep enough to have you sobbing, begging, he'd grip your chin, force you to look at him, and simply say, "No."

No drugs. No relief. No escape.

By the end of the first week, the worst of the sickness had passed, but the craving, the gnawing, insatiable hunger for something to take the edge off, remained. Rafe was prepared for that, of course.

The handcuffs stayed. When he had to leave the room, he'd bind your wrists to the bed frame, ensuring that even if you wanted to claw your way out, you couldn't. When he was there, he left one hand free, just enough movement to allow you to eat, to drink, to touch him when he demanded it. Just enough to remind you that your freedom was in his hands.

"You're getting better," he'd say, running fingers through your hair, his tone almost soothing. "You’ll thank me for this someday."

_

Week two brought exhaustion, a bone-deep fatigue that left you hollowed out. The worst of the shaking had faded, but your limbs still felt like lead, your head thick with cotton. Time became a meaningless blur of waking and sleeping, fading in and out of coherence. The world outside might as well have ceased to exist, there was only this room, this bed, Rafe’s presence looming, omnipresent.

By the third week, your body had begun to function again, but your mind was sluggish, slow to piece together reality. Rafe made sure of that. The meals he brought, the water he pressed to your lips, they were laced with just enough to keep you hazy, and compliant, but never enough to make you crumble like you did again.

No drugs for 6 weeks, bullshit.

"You don’t need that shit anymore," he murmured one night, his lips brushing your temple as you lay curled beneath the covers, weak and pliant. "I'm all you need."

Somewhere between weeks four and five, the desperation set in. The fight in you flickered, weak but present. You started resisting. Pulling against the cuffs until your wrists bled, refusing to eat, spitting venom in every word you could manage. Rafe met each defiance with patience, a maddening, knowing smile like he was waiting for you to burn yourself out.

And then, he started rewarding your obedience.

A free hand. A warm bath. A walk through the house, always with his hand gripping your arm, always with a reminder murmured against your ear: "You behave, you get more. You fight me, you lose."

By week six, you had lost track of time. Your mind, your body, they weren’t your own anymore. Your voice barely belonged to you, your words carefully chosen to avoid punishment, your movements dictated by his expectations. The cuffs remained, but now, they were more of a suggestion than a necessity.

Because Rafe had won.

And when he looked at you, running a thumb over the bruises on your wrists, his lips curved into something satisfied, something triumphant as he shoved two little pills into your open mouth.

"See? I told you, sweetheart. You were always meant to be mine."

[karikarasuno]

part three | part four | part five

"no fucking way," nami nearly spits out her margarita. "that did not happen."

robin is laughing behind her hand. at least she's trying to be polite.

"not you sneaking out the back." you glare at franky, blinking blankly.

"sorry, i've taken his social media away," robin apologizes, wacking franky on the arm. he just shrugs and takes another swig of his beer.

"she'll never take tiktok away from me," he says, clearly way tipsier than any of you realized.

you have to ignore him for now, deciding on tackling franky's chronic online issue at a later date. because right now it's been a solid three days since you and law have spoken about what transpired between the two of you.

and it isn't for lack of trying this time. you just haven’t been able to catch each other between work and sleep. and stupidly, you never asked for his number. so it’s not like you can even text him.

“that’s just unlucky,” nami takes another sip of her drink. “i mean you finally get some after that disaster of a break up and you go and get interrupted by his entire family.”

“i know!” you groan, sinking further down into the booth. your hand plays with the condensation on the glass of your own margarita in anguish. you were so close to actually touching his dick. again.

“well, was it good at least?” robin chuckles, amused.

you roll your eyes. “of course it was good. i’ve had like three wet dreams about it since.”

franky whistles. “i do not miss those days. the mess, the hassle, the shame…”

“who invited him?” nami complains.

“he just kinda follows me around like a lost puppy,” robin smiles, leaning over and pinching franky’s cheek. which blushes profusely.

nami gags when she looks over at you. “i’ll never get it,” she whispers, forcing a giggle from you which you hide behind the lip of your drink.

you finish your margarita, pleasantly buzzed and stuffed with chips and salsa. it takes another twenty minutes for you all to say goodbye in the parking lot before you’re heading home for the evening. thinking of law the entire way.

which is where you make your mistake. because you’re a few blocks from home. driving slow in the residential, but you don’t see the wood panel in the middle of the road until it’s too late. until you hit it and hear a devastating pop from your front tire.

“oh, fuck me,” you hit your steering wheel, agitated. just your luck. you step out of your car rounding the hood to stare at the mess that is your tire. it’s practically shredded and you’re so close to home too.

you grab your phone looking to see if you had the stupid tow service included in your insurance since you don’t know how to change a tire.

“what did you do?” law’s voice startles you. you had seen the headlights coming your way but you didn’t expect it to be him.

“what did i do?” you whine, just shy of stomping your foot. “i didn’t do anything. i was driving home and a piece of wood with a nail in it murdered my tire.”

“do you have a spare in the trunk?” law sounds nasally, stuffed.

“i don’t know,” you say hopelessly, a true damsel.

law shakes his head and parks in front of you. when he gets out you note that he’s still in his scrubs. but that’s insane because he left for work before you did this morning. and it’s damn near 10pm now.

“are you just getting home?”

“long day,” law dismisses, really sounding congested. he leans into your open driver side door and pops the trunk. “i have a jack in my car, so it won’t take me long to replace. but you can’t drive on a spare for long so make sure you get a new tire soon.”

he sounds absolutely horrible.

“law, are you sick?” you can’t help the concern that seeps into your voice. this is just weird. and he’s acting so normal.

“i’m fine.” he moves the stupid shit you have in your trunk around and lifts the felt cover. so you do have a spare.

you stare in shock as he walks back to his car to grab the jack. and then walks back over to you to start changing your tire. “turn your flash on for me.”

you listen without thinking, only realizing after a minute or so that he shouldn’t be doing this.

“wait, you shouldn’t exert yourself,” you interrupt him. “i can just call a guy.”

“i’m already almost done,” he says, placing the tire iron over a lug nut and twisting. and you know for a fact that isn’t easy with the way he strains.

he stifles a cough and your eyes narrow.

“you’re sick,” you accuse, the hand that isn’t holding your phone props on your hip.

“it’s just a little cold. i’ll be fine after i get some sleep.” he pulls your tire off and starts fitting the spare.

“you shouldn’t be changing my tire when you feel shitty,” you argue again. feeling bad.

“too late,” he grumbles, twisting the final lug nut.

“law,” you sigh, hand slapping your thigh as he removes his jack and grabs your obliterated tire.

“i’m fine,” he stops in front of you and even without the flash you can see the exhaustion in his body and the lethargy in his face. and he genuinely looks ill.

your hand reaches up to touch his forehead, back of your hand brushing his skin. and it’s clammy. and feverish.

“you’re not fine,” you assert, dropping your hand. he nudges you out of the way with his leg forcing you to take a small step away from him.

“if you’re so concerned, you can follow me home,” he calls over his shoulder.

“ha ha,” you mock sarcastically, watching him throw both your tire and his jack in the trunk of his car.

"thank you," you say, grateful for his help, but worried about him.

he merely waves over his shoulder without another word. that's how you know he's not feeling well. you're sure he's mentally fatigued on top of everything as well. you'll just have to check on him tomorrow.

****

tomorrow arrives and you get home from work to see law's car parked in his driveway. you don't know his schedule, but something feels off. the bastard is absolutely sick.

so you make him chicken soup. you take the whole pot over when you're done along with a bag full of other sick supplies. but your concern skyrockets when you ring the doorbell and get no response. you wait a few minutes before ringing it again. still no answer. you try not to panic and convince yourself law isn't dead in his bed. because that would be dramatic.

crazy enough though you remember that you saw him put in his garage code once. what's even crazier is that you remembered it. maybe this isn't something you'll admit to him.

his house is eerily quiet and dark. all of his blinds are closed and his curtains are drawn. you peek into his bedroom since his door is open and he's laying there, in his underwear, tangled in sheets.

you're a creep, but this is for his health. so it's less creepy. you put everything down in his kitchen and grab the small towel you packed. you soak it through with cool water, also grabbing a bottle of gatorade and some ibuprofen before making your way to his room.

"law," you whisper and lean over to look at him. his breathing is ragged and huffing out through his mouth since his nose is obviously clogged. you put everything down except the towel, reaching out to lightly shake him. he barely stirs.

"law," you whisper louder and shake him a little rougher than before. he startles awake, his chest heaving as he looks around his darkened room bewildered.

when his eyes land on you he relaxes, but then he blinks, "what are you doing here?"

"i snuck in to check on you," you admit, a droplet of water from the towel drips down your wrist.

"how?" he's barely awake and his voice is so hoarse.

"it's better if you don't know," you respond as you push his shoulder so he's lying down again. his body naturally falls to the bed. his skin is burning beneath your palm and your chest aches at the sight. when you place the towel on his forehead he flinches, but quickly sighs from the relief.

you adjust law to place another pillow behind him so he's propped up slightly before handing him the painkillers and gatorade. he takes them without question, coughing a little after he swallows.

"you look like shit," you sigh, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"yeah, i feel like shit too," he slumps into his cushions, very much irritated about his current state. you do feel sorry for him. he looks quite pitiful if you're being honest.

"i brought soup. let me go grab some for you," you say, getting up quickly to head back to the kitchen. the soup is still hot when you serve it in a small bowl you found in the kitchen and head back to his bedroom.

you don't bother turning on any lights, surely he prefers the dark right now and since it's still daylight out there's just enough natural light filtering through the house to guide you. he's in the exact position you left him in except his eyes are closed and he's breathing carefully through his lips.

you sit down on the bed again. this time closer to him. he feels you sink into his mattress beside him and without looking he reaches for the bowl, but you pull it just out of his grasp.

"i got it," you say, stirring the soup so it cools off a little.

"you're not gonna feed me," he argues bitterly, like this is the last thing he needs.

"i am," you laugh as he opens his eyes just to glare at you. but with how sick he is, the stare doesn't hold very much weight.

"you really don't have to do that," he bemoans. poor thing.

"well, you didn't have to change my tire last night and you did." he doesn't say anything. "now open wide."

he begrudgingly listens, a very obvious pout on his lips before he parts them to wrap around the spoon you're holding out. you watch as the broth soothes his throat, the tiniest of moans crawling it's way out. you smirk to yourself, pride swelling in your chest.

he no longer argues as you feed him another bite. and another after that one. the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you feed him probably his first meal of the day. you can tell when he starts to feel more alive. he sits up further in bed, his breathing comes more naturally to him, and he eventually takes the towel off of his head.

he seems to forget he's practically naked. a fact that you have had to pointedly ignore. law's tattoos are far more extensive than you previously realized. they're so large that nearly his entire torso is covered. and you also know he's fit, having already made that conclusion after feeling him up a few times before. but jesus christ, his body is insane.

"you're staring." a hint of playfulness returns to his voice. your eyes snap up to his face and behind the sickly demeanor, there's the smallest bit of smugness in his features. your only response is to lift a spoonful of soup out the bowl and shove it into his mouth.

he chuckles around the spoon and then promptly coughs after he swallows.

"i just didn't expect you to have so many tattoos," you mutter, stirring the soup again to keep your eyes from wandering. he stretches his legs out, his thigh now pressing into you. you're not sure if its intentional, but neither of you move, so clearly you don't mind.

"i was a pretty rowdy kid," law says, his head falling to rest on his headboard. "ran around with some guys that i shouldn't have. definitely got into some shit i had no business being in."

"like getting tattoos?" you ask, scooping up some more soup.

"yeah," he nods, leaning over to eat from the spoon you're holding out to him. "it's how i met cora actually."

you tilted your head confused. "but isn't cora your brother?"

it clicks to law that you obviously don't know what he's talking about. he's usually not so open. "cora's adopted. my parents adopted him when he was 17. it was more of a formality if anything. i was 14 when it happened."

"how old were you when you met?"

"i was around 11, but i met his brother first. a real asshole," he shakes his head at the memory. "convinced me to steal some candy from the gas station and he'd pay me $20. and i did it of course, but i didn't find out until later that it was some weird initiation he did to recruit kids as a cover for him selling drugs because we'd get caught doing petty theft meanwhile he's selling coke and shit behind the building."

you're sure your eyes are wide and the spoon sits limply in your hand. "so you were in a gang?"

"pretty much," he chuckle-coughs at the look on your face. "cora's the only reason i got out to be honest. he snitched and told my parents i started selling too. i was pissed at him for months over it, but he was just looking out for me. he always hated his older brother."

you had no idea what to say. it's a lot to digest because he seems so unbothered by it all. but that makes sense since he lived it and its been years since.

"wow," you nod slightly. "where's his brother now?"

"maximum security prison."

"what?!" your jaw drops, absolutely stunned.

"i told you he's an asshole," law laughs, nudging you with the leg that's already pressed against you.

"i've met a lot of assholes in my life and none of them are in federal fucking prison," you say, still shocked by his admission. "and poor cora, that's so traumatizing."

"he's fine," law shrugs, gesturing for you to give him more soup, but you refrain.

"is he though? are you even?"

he snatches the bowl from you with a quickness he shouldn't possess with how ill he is, disappointment on his face when he looks down and realizes he ate it all.

"there's more in the kitchen, you baby." you take the bowl back and wait for him to answer.

"yes, we're both fine. i'm a surgeon, cora's a chidren's librarian. we are ok," he holds his hands up as if he's surrendering. "the tattoos on my arms i got as a kid, but the chest and back piece were years later."

"you have a back tattoo?" this man is quite possibly the strangest person you've ever met. purely because everything he said was so unexpected. you're currently still processing it all.

"if i show you, will you get me more soup?" he bargains, adjusting his body to prepare to flip over.

"fine," but you only agree as an excuse to continue ogling him without him witnessing it. it takes a fair bit of effort for him to turn over. his body weighed down by his cold. but you see that his back tattoo is just as large as the one on his chest and before you think better of it, your fingers are touching him. they trace the outline of the large circle and drag along the lines that extend from it. it's all thick black lines and it probably hurt like a bitch. his muscles are especially nice, all corded and firm beneath your touch. if he wasn't so sick you would absolutely sink your teeth into this man.

"i'm still hungry," he says, words muffled by his pillow. your shoulders jump and you hop off the bed hurriedly.

"right! i'll be right back." your face is warm and you swear you hear his laugh as you scurry out of his bedroom. he's too distracting.

this is a problem.

part six

[yandere-wishes]

⋆𐙚⋆ Imagine being Darth Vader/ Anakin's presious little darling. You're the only thing that keeps him living, keeps him from tearing his chest open and clawing out his black dysfunctional heart. You're the only good thing in his life.

⋆𐙚⋆ That's why he keeps you locked up on Mustafar, in a dark, somber castle surrounded by lava. It's how he can insure your safety. Make sure you're always waiting for him alone and scared. It's easy to believe that your sweet smile is because of him, much easier than believing you're despreatly starved for company.

⋆𐙚⋆ Anakin's fairytale ends when Obi Wan learns of your existence. Learns that Anakin has taken an unwilling bride and locked her away on a planet of eternal night. Old habits die hard, and despite all his failures, Obi Wan is still a Jedi. He knows he has to rescue you.

⋆𐙚⋆ Imagine running through Mustafar. Fingers laced with a Jedi master who smells of sweet desert fruits and dying suns. Running through forests and jumping over lava streams. You can hear Anakin behind you. His rage ripples through the air, thick and menacing. You smell the burn of bark as his saber slashes through the trees. His screams of rage burn your ears. But you see the starship. You taste freedom in the back of your mouth. You're so so close.

⋆𐙚⋆ You only let go of Obi Wan's hand when you're inside the starship, and the hatch is sealed shut behind you. Only let out a breath when the engine roars and the ship lifts into the air. Obi Wan sits at the pilot seat, rotten nostalgia coursing through his veins. He offers you his smiles his golden smile, trying to reassure you that you're finally finally safe. And you believe him...at least for a moment.

⋆𐙚⋆ The starship rattles, shaking you and him from your seats. The engines scream the metal frame creaks and bends. You dare a glance outside a shattering window only to see him. Vader's arm is raised, fingers stretching, power radiates through him, pulling the thousend ton ship from the air. It's funny to think that one man holds so much power. You cower on the floor knees to your chest. Doe eyes overflowing with tears, you knew freedom was too good to be true. Obi Wan tries to wrangle the ship from Vader, but there is no hope left...

⋆𐙚⋆ All too soon, the ship crashes back onto igneous land. The metalic doors and walls are peeled off harshly as Vader uses the force to rummage through the wreckage. Your bruised and battered body is pulled towards him. His furious grasp snakes around your neck. "YOU LEFT ME, YOU ABANDONED ME." it's hard to miss the sprinkles of pain upon the rage-filled timber of his voice. "Ani, I'm sor-" you try to choke out, despreat for a mercy you know will not be granted. "LIAR".

⋆𐙚⋆ He doesn't kill you. He can't. He may be rage born and hatred raised. But you... you are truly something special, something that deserves punishment, not death. Anakin drags you back to his fortress. Leaving Obi Wan bleeding amongst the wreckage...

[crowdedimagines]

Tailspin III - Bradley Bradshaw

summary: Bradley is a single dad and his new neighbor catches his eye. The only thing is, she might have more baggage than what's in the moving truck... 4.3 K 🫶🏼

series list warnings: domestic violence, stalking, blood

“Matt. What are you doing here?” She asks, her pulse racing for both of them to hear. Matt looks up from her face to the machine, almost proud of the effect he has. Goosebumps raise all over her arms, she doesn't think it’s just from the chill of the air conditioning. 

“You were hurt.” He answers, scooting closer in his chair making Y/n flinch. 

“No Matt, what are you doing here?” 

“I actually was already in California, believe it or not.” His proud smirk returning. Y/n can spot the evil in it now. He stands, his grip on her hand unwavering as he leans against the edge of her bed. “I wasn’t in Southport yet, I hadn't connected that dot yet. But when I got the call I came rushing.” 

He reaches out a hand to touch her hair. She flinches again and he brushes his hand over her hair, ignoring her recoil. He was already in California?

“What call?” Her voice a whisper. Where is the doctor? Where is a nurse?

“I’m still your emergency contact on your insurance.” His smile full of malice, his grip dropped from her hair to her face. He doesn’t caress her cheek like Bradley does. He holds it there, trapped and forced in place. He’s almost broken this jaw before. “They called me when you were brought in, and I was so concerned. How could this have happened?”

The call button. 

“You’re in the ER.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Her quick tongue getting the better of her. 

Y/n’s hand races to grab the bed remote at her side, but Matt’s reflexes are better than hers. Especially in her state. 

“How stupid of you.” He leans in closer to her face, she recoils even further into the bed, “Trying to use a nail gun yourself? How foolish could you be?”

He leans impossibly closer, his breath hot against her neck. She tries to turn even farther from him, attempting any distance possible. 

“What? You don’t have anyone to help you anymore?” 

“I don’t need anyone. You aren’t supposed to contact me, you’re voiding your parents' contract.” She reminds. She wants to add that he’s violating his restraining order right now too, but she’s too aware of the fact that she’s alone in this room. No matter how close the nearest person is.

“My parents are idiots.” He sighs, reaching a hand over her hair again. 

“You need to leave.”

A nurse walks by the open door and Matt straightens himself up. She doubts he’s taking her word for it, more likely the reminder that they aren’t alone in his penthouse. Not in a soundproof room with distant neighbors. No, she will never be there again. He sets the bedside remote on the floor out of her grasp and grabs his jacket off the chair next to her bed. 

“I’ll be seeing you, Y/n.” He slides his arms through the sleeves of the jacket, “Missed you, darling.” 

He makes his way out the door and the second he’s out of view Y/n swings her legs over the side of the bed. She reaches down with pain in her thigh, but manages to grab it and press the call button. She hits it over and over and over- 

“Miss L/n-” 

“I need the police immediately.” 

✿

Bradley races through the emergency doors with a kid at each side, Nat parking the Bronco. He looks around the near empty emergency room. There’s one lone family in the far corner waiting. Bradley makes his way to the main desk, he knows he’s seen the woman at reception before. He’s been at the hospital numerous times for work. 

“I’m looking for Y/n L/n. She was taken in by EMTs earlier this evening.” 

Bradley has to wait to sign them in as visitors and she reminds them that visiting hours will be closing shortly. He manages to pull some chief strings and she drops it completely. She walks them to the hall Y/n’s in and lets him know she’ll send Nat in their direction when she gets in.

He can’t tell if he’s pulling the kids, or they’re pulling him forward to her room number. They all act as a magnet for her door. Bradley pushes open the door to her room slowly, with almost no point as the kids tear off in front of him. The lamp next to the bed is on, casting a warm hue over the room rather than the bright overhead lighting. Y/n is awake and sitting up in bed when they open the door. Nick is the first one at her bedside, surprising them all. Bradley places a hand on top of Sadie’s shoulder to slow her down a little, taking their time in approaching the bed. 

“Are you okay?” Nick asks, his breathing ragged. Bradley had been the one panicking the most, so the reaction from Nicky had to have been buried under the shock of it all. Bradley lets out a deep sigh of his own. He knew falling for someone came with the risk of someday losing them, but selfishly he didn’t consider the fact that it was a possibility for his children too. Y/n has been apart of their movie nights for weeks now, Bradley was afraid Nick may never warm up to her. 

“Yeah, I’m okay buddy.” She smiles. Her eyes dart to Bradley’s for a second before her full focus comes back to Nick in front of her. Nick sees this and turns to look back at Bradley, tears in his eyes. Bradley simply nods to him, encouraging him. Nicky turns around and pulls himself up onto Y/n’s bed to give her a hug. 

“Awe, Nicky.” She sighs, wrapping her arms around him tightly. One hand holds him close while the other rubs back and forth on his back, his grip tight around her neck. Her shock is apparent while looking over his shoulder to where Bradley and Sadie stand patiently at the foot of her bed. 

“I’ll take you fishing.” He mutters, his words choppy while his breathing is still evening out. If it weren’t as quiet as it is in the room, he’s not sure she could've heard the words. 

“I would love that.” 

Her hand continues to rub his back, trying to get him to calm down. Giving him the time to pull away first. Sadie’s patience wears thin and she moves closer to try and climb up in the bed too.

“I don’t like hospitals.” Nick admits. Tears gather in Bradley’s eyes at his son’s admission. It doesn’t surprise him one bit, he’s never been a fan. 

“I don’t either.” She whispers back.

“Be careful, please.” Bradley helps Sadie get up on the bed, careful to avoid the thigh that has white bandages wrapped around it. She joins the two of them, Nick and Sadie each taking a side. Bradley stands on guard, ready to yank his kids off of climbing all over her. 

“Babe, are you okay?” Bradley asks, he can fully take her in now. Her thigh is bandaged and from what he heard she had to get stitches on her upper thigh because of how close it was to an artery. That’s why there was so much blood. In the process of passing out after calling 911, she fell and got a concussion. Her head wrapped in a similar bandage. 

“I think so.” She smiles, Bradley finally lets out the breath he’s been holding since he found her door left wide open. 

“You managed to call 911 before passing out. They think you hit your head pretty hard too, likely a concussion.” 

She simply nods, “That would explain some things.” 

Nat eventually finds them, bringing snacks with her. She claims hospital food is worse than a nail recoiling. Bradley manages to pull strings to stay the night with her. The kids also refusing to leave, sharing the couch. Nat takes the Bronco back to the house so she can stay there. She wants to take care of the mess at both houses before they all come back. Between the melted ice cream and the blood puddle, she’s got a busy night ahead of her, but she’s happy to help. The kids have long since passed out on the couch by the time Y/n convinces Bradley to ditch the chair and climb into bed behind her. 

They talk quietly for a little while until Bradley looks up seeing someone walk in the open door. Two police officers, one reaching out to lightly knock on the door. Bradley stills, and Y/n next to him tries her best to sit up. Bradley knows them, frequently seeing them on the scene of crimes the rare times things actually happen in the small town.

“Matt was here.” She finally admits, Bradley’s face drops. How was this not the lead? He doesn’t like not knowing. 

“I didn’t want to dive into that topic with them.” She nods to his kids sleeping on the couch behind him.

She feels guilty for buying the lead and letting it go on for so long without telling him.  She never planned to hide it, but it wasn't exactly a conversation she wanted to have right away. 

“Hello Miss. L/n.” The officer states, “The nurse called us and informed us of the situation. We just need to get your statement.”

“Frank, is there any way we could do that tomorrow morning?” Bradley asks, he stands from the hospital bed and makes his way over to them by the door. He tries to speak quietly due to the sensitive subject and the sleeping children. The officers nod right away, they see Sadie and Nick and Y/n nods from the bed. 

“Yeah, Bradshaw.” They both nod, “We pulled her file. She already has a good case against him and he violated the restraining order. We’re just waiting for the hospital’s security footage to add to the report, we can wait on her statement for tomorrow.”

Bradley thanks them and gives them both a handshake. He climbs back in bed next to her, his heart racing at the revelation. 

“He was already in California.” She admits, “He was contacted through my insurance emergency contact.”

“What did he say?” 

“He said that he’d be back.” She shudders, “He’s delusional. He was acting like we were still together. He called me foolish and stupid for the accident.” 

Bradley pulls her closer to his chest. Partially for the comfort of holding her closer, but also to hide his face. He doesn’t want her to see how angry he actually is.

“He’s never gonna get close again.” Bradley promises.  

Shortly after that, Bradley reaches to turn off the lamp so they can sleep. The rest of the night is rough. Bradley is a warm and comforting presence, but with the ache in her head and the throbbing in her leg, it’s hard to sleep. The wires attached to her monitoring her status are not helping the situation. 

“You need rest.” Bradley’s voice is soft. He hasn’t moved a muscle in a long time. Has he really been awake this entire time too? The doctor told them she needs rest while she’s being monitored. Her body went through a lot today.

“I know.” She pulls his arm around her, but she can tell he’s being cautious. She might as well be wrapped in bubble wrap. He spoons the backside of her, but she just wants to feel him. “This just isn’t how I pictured our first sleepover.”

“What? You didn’t want my kids to be sleeping five feet away from us?” He exhales a soft laugh from his nose and it makes Y/n join in. 

“Yeah, it’s safe to say not what I had planned.”

“Planned?” His voice holding intrigue. 

“Yeah, you should’ve seen what I had picked out to wear. Might’ve stopped your heart on the spot. Maybe it’s a good idea we’re in a hospital, I wonder if Nat would drop off-”

“You’re evil.” He lightly pinches her ribs to cut her off before she can continue. She snickers, but leans into his touch a little more.

“Hold me.”

“Y/n-”

“Please.”

He could never say no to that. With caution, he lets the full weight of his arm drop around her waist. He stretches his legs forward to weave between hers. He does it slowly and with care, waiting for any wince from her. 

She finally gets her sleep. 

The next morning Nat brings coffee for all of them, the doctor briefing them on everything they need to know for treatment. She is being discharged, they really only kept her for the night to be on the safe side. The cops circle back now that she’s feeling better and get her full statement. Bradley talks with them about keeping an eye out for her and they give him the advice to keep a close eye on her because it’s obvious Matt won’t be moving on so easily. 

“She has a concussion so she should be under supervision for the next 24 hours. She’ll need to come back next week so we can check the stitches and run a couple tests.” 

“Trust me Doc, I’m not letting her out of sight.” Bradley chuckles, his hand squeezing hers. 

Bradley pushes her out in a wheelchair, which was required for her release. She can walk perfectly fine, even if Bradley wants to fawn over her every need. Nat has already pulled up the Bronco to the front. Nick pulls open the passenger door for her and Bradley helps her get up to her feet. It’s uncomfortable to put full weight on that leg so soon, but doable. He helps her up into the truck and returns the wheelchair before climbing in behind the steering wheel. 

They drive back to their houses and he parks in his driveway. They’ve already determined she’ll be staying with them until she’s doing better. Bradley is serious about the supervision. 

Bradley does help her make the trip back over to her own house to help her get everything she needs for the next few days. The first thing she notices when she walks in is how clean the floor is. The house smells like fabuloso which tells her someone cleaned for her. The blood. 

Bradley doesn’t say a word about it, she has a feeling Nat is responsible since Bradley hasn’t left her sight since last night. He helps her pack everything she points out that she wants to bring. He lets her make the brave decision to walk back without any support, Bradley just carrying everything for her. The doctor said she would be feeling better today already but he wasn't convinced. By the time they reenter the Bradshaw home Sadie has drawn her a ‘get well soon’ card and is eager to present it when they return to the Bradshaw home. Nat is working on breakfast for everyone in the kitchen and there's a new guest sat at the barstools. 

“Well you must be Miss Y/n L/n.” The blonde man nods, sizing up the women following Bradley into the house. 

“and you must be Hangman.” She smirks, quick to catch on to who this must be. 

“Oh no, what have you heard?” He asks, “All bad I hope.” 

She rolls her eyes. Well, he lives up to the stories. 

“Hangman, you better give her space. She’s got a concussion and your face is gonna trigger the nausea.” 

Bradley breaks out to a loud laugh at Nat’s dig. 

“Jake here is gonna keep an eye out on the house.” 

“What?”

“Just for peace of mind. It can’t hurt to have another person around right now. At least until they find Matt.” 

She gulps back her surprise and watches the gazes shift between each other in the room. 

“Can I talk to you?” Y/n asks, Bradley’s head snapping back up in her direction. 

He nods and follows her up the stairs to his bedroom, softly shutting the door behind him. She paces slowly, twisting the loose ring on her finger while she goes. 

“I want to give you an out.” She blurts. 

“An out?”

“An out. I know this has been a lot really early on in this relationship, and I want to give you an out. It’s your first relationship since Anna, and I don’t know if I’m the best way for you to ease back into dating.” 

“I don’t want to ease back into dating.” He scoffs, “I want to date you.” 

He takes her hands in his, mostly to get her to stop spinning that ring and walks them over to the edge of the bed to sit. 

“I wasn’t suddenly ready after five years and you just happened to be there. You moved in, that’s what was significant. Are there people with less baggage out there? Yeah I’m sure. You’re someone I choose everyday to be in my life. I’ve lost a lot in my life, and I don’t give the people I love up so easily.” 

“The people you what?” Her head snapping up. 

“I’m being serious, I love you.” He pulls her head in close to press a kiss to her hairline, “The last twelve hours have made things clear if I didn’t know it already.”

“I love you, too.” 

“Your past doesn’t scare me. Matt doesn’t scare me. You don’t scare me. Losing you does.”

✿

The rest of the day they take it easy. The two kids fight to help a couple times, racing to get water for Y/n. Fighting to grab a blanket or a pillow. Hangman tells a few stories from over the years, some from their pilot days and some recent. Nat ends up taking the kids down to walk on the beach and Jake has to head back to the firehouse. Y/n ends up taking a long nap on the couch, she’s feeling much better than before by the time she wakes up.

“Nat is gonna put the kids to bed for me, you feeling up for a walk?” He asks, pulling her up from the couch when she nods enthusiastically. 

They leave out the backdoor and Bradley leads her down a trail that leads past all of the houses and heads down in the direction of the marshes. 

“Let me know if you need a break.” He says over his shoulder, they continue to follow the trail by the waterline. 

“Where exactly are we headed?”

“You’ll see.” Bradley smiles and reaches a hand back for hers to pull her along. They round another corner and in the short distance a lighthouse comes into view. Y/n knows she’s seen it way off in the distance, she can see it from her bedroom window but had no idea she could access it from their backyards. Bradley walks right up to the door and pulls a key out of his pocket for the lock. 

“How do you have a key for this?” She asks, genuinely curious how he’s opening this door that looks older than the town itself. 

“I’m the fire chief.” He answers with a smirk and a shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“You say that like it should be the answer for everything.” She rolls her eyes simply. 

“It kind of is.” He pulls the door open widely to reveal a spiral of stairs curving round and round as it goes higher. “Alright, get on.”

“What?” She asks.

“You think I’m letting you climb up those stairs?” He rolls his eyes, squatting down lower in front of her again. 

“Bradley, I’ll be okay-”

“Baby, I literally train for this.” He turns back around to face her and insists yet again, “I could do this in my sleep.”

“Whatever you say.” She shrugs, knowing she won’t be the one to win this argument. He’s careful with his grip on her legs while carrying her. They circle round and round until they finally make it to the top. There's a small glass door that leads outside to the outer gallery. He sets her down and they step out to where he’s set up blankets, pillows, LED candles. 

“Sorry you couldn’t have the real thing. That would’ve been too dangerous for me to live with.”

“You are in fact the fire chief.” She teases. 

He pops a bottle of champagne and pours them each a glass and they sit down, legs hanging over the edge, forearms resting on the rails. The sun is slowly making its descent below the horizon causing the sky to burn orange. 

“This is where I had wanted to tell you I love you, instead of blurting it on you this morning.” 

“I love how you told me anyway.” She nods her head against his shoulder. 

“And I love you for that, but that twice now we’ve made a big step while worrying about something else. I want to be able to sit here, just the two of us, and tell you I love you.”

He takes a big gulp and Y/n reaches out a hand for his. 

“I love you, Y/n. I didn’t know if I would ever get the opportunity to say that to someone again. Didn’t think I would get to.” She watches him closely, her fingers brushing along the edge of his jaw. 

“After everything that happened with the kids’ mom I started to lose hope. I thought that love just wasn’t in the cards for me anymore. My life has only been about them. Just surviving and being solid for them.” He clears his throat, “Then you moved in. You didn’t just show up for me, you showed up for them. You and Sadie were thick as thieves in an instant and somehow you’ve broken down Nick’s walls.”

“Bradley.”

“You make them feel safe. Seen. And you make me feel like I can dream again. Like I’m allowed to want more than just holding it together.” He reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear that the wind had taken. 

“You mean all of that?”

“Every damn word.”

“I never thought I would be someone's future.” She shakes her head, “I didn’t know I could feel this loved. This wanted and cared for.” 

“Well get used to it.” 

They stay wrapped up in each other, watching the sun completely disappear. The sky is still light, but with pink splashed throughout. 

“So, just to be clear if I suddenly insist on matching tee shirts, you’re still in.” She teases. 

“I survived a jet engine flameout midair, I can survive matching tee shirts.”

“Don’t tempt me.” “I’m not saying they wouldn't somehow go missing in the laundry after a couple weeks.” He chuckles. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“You wouldn’t stay mad.” He leans in to press his lips to her ear, “You loveeeee me.”

“Yeah, for whatever reason.” She rolls her eyes and turns to press a kiss to his neck. He shivers when she makes her way up to where his jaw meets his neck.” 

“This is dangerous territory for two people who have to go back to a house full of people.” He sighs. She continues her work on him, catching his lips every few kisses leaving him breathless. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just showing a little affection for the man I love.” Her voice convincingly innocent. He draws in a breath when she trails a finger down his chest. 

“You’re kissing me like you’re trying to charm me out of my pants.” 

“Trust me, I’m trying.” 

He turns into her now, their lips finally meeting longer than a few seconds. This is hungrier, more breathless. He pulls her into his chest, leaning his back against the pillows that sit on the floor behind them. He pulls her along with him and his lips have a hold on hers. They only break when Y/n starts to laugh. 

“God, you kiss like a man who’s been on a dry spell.” She chuckles, “It’s only been a couple days.”

“Before you “dry spell" was my middle name.” 

“Mmm, Bradley Dry Spell Bradshaw. Has a nice ring to it.” She carefully and slowly swings her leg over his lap in order to straddle him. 

“Yeah? You want me to make it wetter?” He grins as he places confident hands on her hips. 

“That was terrible.” She shakes her head, leaning down to connect their lips again nonetheless. 

“You love it.” 

“I love you. The terrible jokes are something I tolerate for the abs.” She won’t deny her grin, he leans back taking her with him. A cocky grin is plastered to his face. 

“So the mustache, the abs, and the kids. Good to know what I really bring to the table.” 

“Don’t forget the pilot uniform. That’s gotta be lying around the house somewhere.” 

“It definitely is.” He nods, already trying to remember which closet he has them tucked away in. 

“Well, I do have a birthday this year.” He bursts out in a laugh.  “Noted.” 

“So, am I going to have to beg.” She asks, her hands reaching for the button of his jeans. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 

“Yes, Bradley.” “Are you sure, because-”

“I see this lighthouse everyday. I would think about you and I, right here right now every time I look out and see this lighthouse. Every time I look out my window.” 

“Tempting.” He whines. 

“My bedroom window.”

“Tempted.” He closes his eyes, her voice and his imagination, having the better of him. He can’t deny how much he would love that. Every time she looks out that window she would think of the two of them together? Too good to pass up on.

“Won’t you just love on me?” 

He reaches to brush hair back behind her ear again, his hand lingering on her jaw to pull her close again. 

“You won’t have to ask me that twice.”

more. to. come. this will not me the last of Matt.

AHHHHHHHH!! another part is already in the works you guys! i so so appreciaite the love this has been getting, this family is something else i stg. THANK YOU!

[pastryfication]

love at first crash | ollie bearman

part of the love at first . . . series

pairing: oliver bearman x reader note: idk if they trust ollie with a ferrari but just run with it.

the impact is sudden, a violent jolt that sends your car careening off course, your heart leaping into your throat as you struggle to regain control. the world spins around you, a blur of colors and sounds, until your car finally screeches to a stop, the silence that follows almost deafening.

for a moment, you just sit there, gripping the steering wheel with trembling hands, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. you force yourself to unbuckle the seatbelt, pushing open the door with shaky fingers, and step out onto the pavement. your legs feel weak beneath you, barely able to hold you up as you survey the damage.

your car is a mess, the front end crumpled beyond recognition, but it’s not the wreckage that sends your heart into a fresh wave of panic—it’s the sight of the other car. a sleek, red, and undoubtedly expensive ferrari. your stomach twists into knots as you realize just what you’ve done, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes trace the scratches marring the once pristine paint.

“oh no, oh no, oh no,” you mutter under your breath, your hands flying to your face as the reality of the situation sinks in. “i hit a ferrari. i actually hit a ferrari.”

before you can spiral any further, the door of the other car swings open, and out steps the driver—a young man, tall and lean, with dark, tousled hair that falls into his eyes. he quickly scans the scene, his eyes finally landing on you. for a brief moment, you’re caught in his stare, the world narrowing to just the two of you, and despite everything, you can’t help but feel a strange, magnetic pull towards him.

but then reality crashes back down, and all you can think about is the fact that you’ve just crashed into his ferrari, and your car is totaled, and there’s no way you can afford to fix this.

“are- are you okay?” he asks, his voice fighting hard to stay steady despite the obvious concern in his eyes. he moves toward you, but you’re too wrapped up in your own panic to register anything beyond the guilt gnawing at your insides.

“your car,” you stammer, your voice high and shaky as you look back at the ferrari. “i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to- i don’t know how this happened. i just-”

“hey, it’s okay,” he interrupts gently, his voice already seeming to be calming down, the soft tone feeling almost reassuring as he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “i mean, it’s just a car. i’m alright. what matters is that you’re okay. are you hurt?”

his words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dumbfounded. “just a car?” you repeat, incredulous. “but it’s a ferrari! it’s not just a car- and- and my car-” you glance back at the wreckage, the panic swelling up again. “i completely smashed my car. i’m so sorry. i don’t know how i’m going to-”

“hey, breathe,” he says, and this time, he gently places a hand on your arm, the touch warm and grounding. you don’t know how he manages to stay so calm. a man around 20 driving a ferrari and being completely calm about ruining it. not something you’d ever think possible. “we’ll figure this out. cars can be fixed or replaced—and i have an insurance.”

you nod, trying to take in a deep breath like he says, but to your horror, it catches in your chest, and before you know it, tears are welling up in your eyes. it’s all too much—the crash, the shock, the overwhelming guilt of damaging something so expensive. you’re on the verge of breaking down right there on the side of the road.

“hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he steps even closer, forcing himself to stay calm as his hand comes to still, resting gently on your arm. “you’re in shock. i think that’s normal. just- just take a deep breath.”

his presence is oddly calming, despite the slight waver in his voice, and you focus on the way he speaks, trying to match your breathing to his. after a few moments, the trembling starts to ease, and you manage to blink away the tears, finally looking up at him through blurry eyes.

“i’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice still shaky but a little steadier now. “i can’t believe i hit your car.”

he smiles, soft and reassuring, and it’s like the weight on your chest lifts just a little. “it’s really okay,” he says, his eyes shining with kindness, understanding, and maybe even something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat despite the situation. “i promise, i’m not worried about the car. i’ll get it fixed. i’m just glad we’re both okay.”

you look at him, really look at him, and there’s something almost surreal about this moment—standing here, on the side of the road, next to a wrecked ferrari, being comforted by a stranger who should be furious, but isn’t. instead, there’s a connection, something electric in the air between you.

“i’m ollie,” he says, offering his name like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if you’re not standing in the aftermath of a car crash.

you give him your name, your voice still shaky but stronger now, and he repeats it softly. “nice to meet you,” he says, and the words feel almost absurd given the circumstances, but also strangely fitting.

you exchange insurance details, though your hands are still trembling slightly as you write. the whole time, ollie stays close, his presence comforting in a way that feels almost too natural, too easy, as if you’ve known each other far longer than these few minutes. he talks to you, his voice a calming undercurrent to the chaos around you, distracting you from the panic still simmering beneath the surface.

when the tow trucks finally arrive, you both linger, neither of you in a rush to leave. there’s an unspoken connection, something that feels too important to let go of just yet. ollie seems to sense it too, hesitating before he speaks again.

“you know, we could always grab a coffee sometime,” he suggests, almost as if he’s testing the waters. “maybe talk about something other than cars?”

“i’d like that,” you say, your heart lighter now, the earlier panic fading into something else entirely.

he smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes you believe in things like fate, like maybe some things are just meant to be. “great,” he says, pulling out his phone to exchange numbers. “i’ll call you.”

you nod, watching him closely as he taps away at you phone. his hair falls softly in front his eyes and a goofy grin is spread across his face.

you just crashed your cars, experiencing something possibly traumatising together, but he’s smiling goofily, and you can’t help but smile too. because who would have thought that your day would go like this?

guess you could call it love at first crash.

[imtryingbuck]

Neighbours.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s moved next door to you and your children, your children wants to play matchmaker.

Word count: 7,322

Warnings: fluff. angst (only a tiny bit though) children being adorable. reader nearly takes her finger off/blood. mention of a dead beat dad. Bucky being the cutest. Alpine being the cutest. swearing. mention of health insurance problems? I’m British so if I’ve gotten it wrong just…leave me alone. small mention of financial issues/being in debt. 

Masterlist

Opening the door to the apartment you shut it again, opening slowly before repeating the action a few more times, sighing in defeat that nothing had changed you took in the sight of the once cleaned apartment that now looked like a bomb had hit it.

Toys laid out on the floor, your daughters toy prams laying on their sides with the baby dolls hanging out of them, legos scattered around, broken crayons laid amongst the chaos.

“Kids?” You called out as you removed your coat.

“Oh…hi Y/n the kids are next door” Poppy your kid’s babysitter says as she pops her head around the corner.

“With Ms Hopewell?”

“Um no the new guy”.

Your heart stopped. The apartment next door had been empty since you and the kids moved in to your apartment two years ago, hearing that there was now a tenant living there didn’t bother you what bothered you was that it was a man who was alone with your children whilst the babysitter was-

“What was that?”

“They, um their next door” Poppy replies quickly.

“No I got that bit but what I want to know is who just coughed?”

“I-it’s my boyfriend-“

Oh your day just kept getting better and better.

“Get out. Your sacked”

“B-but Y-“

“No. Tell him to put his shirt on and I want you both to leave my home. Now”

The regret of not listening to Marina the mum of your daughters friend who had warned you not to hire the sixteen year old babysitter was hitting full force but at the time you was desperate and in need of a babysitter so you could work. Now you felt foolish that you gave her the benefit of the doubt, just for her to think it was acceptable to bring her boyfriend who you did not know into your home and to allow your children to be next door with a complete stranger.

Not listening to Poppy’s excuses you told her one more time to leave as you went next door where you could now hear your children’s cheerful voices.

The front door to the apartment was open, calling out for your kids where you heard them running towards you.

“Momma”

“What the hell do you think you two are doing? How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers.” You scolded despite seeing them okay and well.

“Mr Bucky isn’t a stranger momma” Cora your daughter says sheepishly.

“Mama” Jasper your son - the youngest out of the two - laughs as he pulls on your shirt.

Before you could reply to either child you hear soft footsteps coming towards you.

“I’m sorry Ma’am-“

“You can’t just let strange kids into your home-“

You cut yourself off when you look up. Not expecting a six foot, built like a brick wall yet looked soft oddly enough man. His bright blue eyes shined through the dimmed hallway, brown hair long enough to be pulled up in a bun that sat low on the back of his head, with a few strands of wavy hair framing his handsome face.

“Momma Mr Bucky has a black arm and it’s cold!” Cora giggled pointing at her left arm.

“Cora!” You scolded, apology on the tip of your tongue before this Mr Bucky laughed.

“It’s true, I do have a black arm” And that’s when you notice it.

“Momma guess how he lost it? Guess, momma guess” Cora jumped around on the spot causing Jasper to do the same.

“I-umm I’m not sure sweetie”

“He didn’t eat his veggies and his arm fell off!” She laughed “he told me and Jaspy that we have to eat all our veggies so it don’t happen to us” her eyes widened comically.

Looking up at the man who you assumed the worst of as he stood there with his arms crossed and a huge grin on his lips making his eyes crinkle.

“It’s true ma’am”

“Mama kitty” Jasper tugs on your shirt again, taking your eyes away from the man to your son who was pointing at a ball of white fluff as it came trotting over “name kitty mama”

“Her names Alpine-“ Cora tries to correct.

“No name kitty” Jasper pouts causing you and the man to laugh.

“You’re very right, her names kitty” he smiles softly. “By the way I’m James, well everyone calls me Bucky” He holds his right hand out for you to shake.

You tried to ignore the way his hand was warm, calloused yet soft, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n”.

“It’s nice to meet you. And listen I’m really sorry that I had your kids in here, um they were outside in the hallway-“

“Excuse me?”

“T-they were outside” he points behind you “I had just came back from the store when I saw them, um Cora said that Poppy had a boy inside and they were told to play in the hallway” He winces as he scratches the back of his neck.

“It’s true momma. They were kissing” you grimaced and the anger you felt for your now former babysitter increased.

“Cora said you was at work and at the time I didn’t see the harm in letting them in to my apartment b-but now I see I did the wro-“

“No no no, I-thank you.” You cut him off, feeling slightly ashamed for overreacting.

“It’s okay, they’re great kids.”

“Thank you, I best get them back so I can feed them. I’m sorry if they caused any problems for you” you smiled, finally stand whilst picking Jasper up and placing him on your hip.

“They didn’t cause any problems, don’t worry. Bye Mr Jasper bye Miss Cora”

“Bye bye Mr Bucky and Miss Alpine” Cora waves already leaving.

Jasper just waves, his thumb sliding into his mouth.

“Bye Bucky”

“Bye, oh um Y/n… I would wash the bedding, the bedroom closest to this wall if I was you” He says grimacing as he knocks on the wall to his left.

Your bedroom.

“Great. Just great, thanks for the tip”. Giving him a tight lip smile you give him an awkward wave and walk back into your home.

“I-I’m sorry Y/n please just give me another chance” Poppy begs.

“Absolutely not. Now I want you to leave”

“But I need this job Y/n please”

“You told my children, the same children I pay you to look after, to go and play in the hallway so you could have sex in my bed! Oh don’t look so shocked, I found the used condom on my floor - thanks for that. Now don’t come back”

“Wi-will you give me a referen-“ You slammed the door in her face.

The audacity of this girl.

“Mama kitty” Jasper catches your attention and sure enough there’s Alpine walking around in a circle around your two year old.

“How did she get in here?” All you got in response was Jasper sticking his tongue out out you. “Let’s get her back home yeah?”

Now here came the tricky part, did you pick her up? Or just open the door and pray to a higher power that she didn’t run off?

You really hoped that she wouldn’t run off as the thought of chasing after a cat exhausted you but picking up the cat wasn’t your fan favourite either, from thirteen years old you’ve had a fear of touching cats after the neighbours tabby dug his claws into your skin and clung on for dear life.

“Okay bubba I need you not to move, I’ll be right back okay” great parenting leaving a two year old home alone, you scold yourself. Running out of the door and rapidly knocking on Bucky’s.

“Hey, Y/n are you okay?”

“Alpines in my apartment and I’m scared to touch cats so… come get her”

“Shit. I’m sorry I don’t know how I missed her getting out-wait did you just say you’re scared to touch them?”

Rolling your eyes as he chuckles “don’t laugh it’s a real phobia”

That has him practically crying. “So you’re afraid of cats?”

“No, I just don’t like touching them unless they’re asleep-stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry doll- hi Mr Jasper, come on missy you’re scaring our neighbour” he laughs as he bends down to pick up the cotton ball of fluff.

“I’m not scared of her!”

“Whatever you say doll, whatever you say”

“It’s-“

“A real phobia I know” winking at you “where’s Miss Cora?”

“At her friends for a sleepover so it’s just me and little man tonight” even though your daughter is two blocks away, you couldn’t help but miss her and mainly worry despite knowing she’s safe.

“That sounds like fun, I’ll see you”

And just as he’s about to cross over the threshold Jasper interrupts him. “Kitty stay”

“No baby kitty has to go home now”

“No kitty stay mama”

“Not tonight baby”

Here comes the waterworks in 3…2…1…

Jasper burst into a fit of tears, throwing himself backwards kicking his little arms and legs out.

“Kitty stay” he stutters, it breaks your heart hearing him cry like that.

“Ma-maybe if it’s okay with you Alpine can stay for a bit? I don’t mind honestly and she’s great with kids” Bucky offers and at his words Jaspers tears start to cease.

“Yeah umm yeah that’s okay with me” you say smiling lightly at Bucky.

“Behave missy” he tells the cat who’s trying to jump out of his arms, and once she’s free she runs over to Jasper rubbing herself all over him that he starts giggle at her fur tickling him.

“Once he’s asleep just knock on the wall and I’ll come and get her-“

“Stay” you blurt out instantly feeling the heat warm your cheeks “th-that’s if you don’t have anything better to-“

“I would love to” he smiles.

And so Bucky and Alpine join you and Jasper for dinner and some cartoons.

You was sitting next to Bucky on the couch when he taps your shoulder and nods his head in the direction of Jasper and Alpine, you couldn’t help but take your phone out and taking a picture of the two cuddled up together, fast asleep.

Months had passed before you had even realised. Bucky and Alpine spent most of their days now at your apartment, which you couldn’t complain as you now had another adult to talk to.

You had just left to go and get something from the store leaving Bucky alone with the kids. Jasper was playing with his toys with Alpine whilst Bucky and Cora was sat on the couch together.

Everything was good until.

“Momma doesn’t have a boyfriend” Cora told Bucky causing him to choke on his drink.

“Oh…”

“Do you want to be momma’s boyfriend?”

“I erm I’m not sure why?”

“Momma will make you happy, she makes me and Jaspy happy and she makes us dino nuggies for dinner and she reads us bedtime stories and makes sure there’s no monsters under the bed”

“Really?”

“Yep she would do that for you too if you was her boyfriend” the six year old put her hand on Bucky’s left arm as she told him.

“I’m not sure Cora…”

“Why not? Do you not like my momma?”

“I do sweetheart but it’s just a little bit more complicated than that”

“Momma said she likes you, I asked her. You can make her happy and she’ll make you happy. I don’t want momma to cry anymore”

“What do you mean?”

“She cries at night when she’s in bed but she doesn’t know that I know. If you be her boyfriend she won’t cry anymore”

Bucky knows Y/n cries at night, due to his enhanced hearing he can hear her. It pains him to hear her sobs until she’s eventually cried herself to sleep.

The knowledge that Cora knows it happens too makes his heart hurt. She’s six years old and all she wants is her momma to be happy even going as far to ask him - the ex brainwashed assassin who’s over a hundred years old - for help.

And the way she’s looking at him doesn’t help.

“So… will you think about it?” Cora asks when she doesn’t receive a response.

“Yeah I’ll think about it”

Five minutes go by.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Not yet”

“Okay”

Another five minutes go by.

“Now?”

“Still thinking Cora”

Jumping up from the couch when he hears the door come open he jogs over to help you with the shopping.

“Hey, thanks you’re a lifesaver” sighing in relief as the bags are released from your arms.

“No problem”

“Did they behave?”

“Yeah, well apart from Miss Cora” he winks at Cora as she comes over.

“No momma it was Mr Bucky that was naughty”

“Why what did he do?”

“He ate all the cookies and didn’t let me have one” she pouts.

You had to stifle the laugh from coming out as Bucky’s eyes widen and jaw dropped open, gasping dramatically at the claims.

“Y/n it was the other way round! I swear”

“No it wasn’t momma I have witnesses” holding her one finger up to you she runs back into the living room to get the witnesses. Bucky stands there with his arms crossed and lightly tapping his foot.

“They saw it happen” laying her dolls down on the counter she looks at you then at Bucky with a smug smile.

“Y/n whatever they say it’s a lie!”

That time you couldn’t hold the laughter in any more.

“You two…” shaking your head.

Seeing a grown man arguing with a six year old and her toys about them being liars makes you laugh even more.

Later that evening Cora says goodnight to Bucky and Alpine, you hear her ask him “have you thought about it now?” Causing your eyebrows to furrow.

Walking him to the door you ask “what was Cory talking about before she went to bed?”

“Oh nothing doll, see you tomorrow”.

You was in the kitchen cooking dinner when the knock at the door had Cora running straight towards it.

“Hi Mr Bucky hi Alpine”

“Hello Miss Cora”

“I’m a princess today”

“I see, hi Princess Cora” he chuckled.

“Hello, would you like to come into my castle?”

“Yes please, thank you”

Their footsteps got closer towards you, turning round you saw Alpine run past jumping straight on to the couch where Jasper was sitting.

“Momma Mr Bucky’s here” she told you before going back to the living room.

“Hi Bucky”

“Hey, so Cora’s a princess today then?”

“Yep. That’s her fourth dress change since she came home from school”

Chuckling as he sits down on the stool he watches you move around the small kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Oh no I’m fine, how was work?” You asked.

“It was fine just the usual, Sam being a pain in my backside”

“Fair enough” you laughed “hey um Bucky I need to ask a huge favour, you can say no okay so don’t fee-“

“Doll ask me”

“Remember you can say no, okay? But I have to work tomorrow as someone’s off ill and it’s Saturday so I was wondering if it’s no issue for you to look after the kids for me?”

He doesn’t even think about his answer as he answers “of course, just tell me when I should come over”

“Really? Oh Bucky you’re a lifesaver, I’ll have to pay you next week if that’s okay?”

“No absolutely not Y/n, I’m not going to take money off you”

“But I can’t ask you to look after them for free”

“Your not, I’m not taking money off you doll and that’s final”

He gets up off the stool and moves into the living room, you hear him tell the kids that they’ll be spending the day with him and the kids cheering.

Ever since you sacked Poppy you’ve been struggling, luckily your boss has been understanding that you need to work certain hours however the hours you now work is way less then what you use to, tomorrow will be the day you work longer that five hours.

Ms Hopewell from next door normally looks after Jasper but since it was the weekend she didn’t need to, plus her daughter was taking her out for the day-

“Shit-fuck goddamnit!” So lost in your thoughts you didn’t realise how close the knife was to your finger that was until you felt the sharp pain and warm sensation of blood trickling down your hand.

“Shi-shoot Y/n are you okay?” Bucky comes running over stopping when he see the blood.

“I’m fine-is it suppose to hurt this much? It really hurts”

“Doll we need to get you to the hospital”

“No, no it’s fine I’ll put a plaster on it-can you hand me the first aid kit from the cabinet”

“Y/n you need stitches-“ He attempts

“I can’t. I don’t have insurance anymore” you mutter.

“What?”

“The kids have but I had to give mine up so I could have insurance for Jasper. I can’t afford to pay the hospital bill Bucky”

You’ve never been ashamed of the fact that you couldn’t afford treatment for yourself it was just one of those things, your kids or you - it was an easy choice. There’s only ever been one time that you slightly regretted that decision and that’s when you broke your ankle just before you moved into the apartment, it had healed fully after nearly a year of being broken and the only time it affects you is in the winter or when you stood up to fast.

You knew he was right about needing to get stitches as you was pretty sure you could see the bone - you couldn’t - but you couldn’t help the shame that crept into your veins admitting it to Bucky that you couldn’t afford to pay for said stitches. The thought of getting another letter with big bold red letters telling you that you was in debt made your heart pang with fear.

Despite the pain in your finger and the cramp that was starting to seep into your hand you was still not going to go to the hospital.

“I’ll pay for it doll. Come on let’s get it sor-“

“No absolutely not. I’m not your charity case Bucky, just pass the first aid kit over and I’ll put a plaster on” You snapped. Instantly regretting it when you see Bucky’s eyes go sad.

“I’m not saying you are Y/n but a plaster isn’t going to do anything doll, I honestly don’t mind paying please just… just let me help you out”

“I can’t Bucky okay, I just can’t ask you to do that for me.”

“Okay. Okay how about I take you to my work place we have a doct-“

“What part of I can’t afford it don’t you understand?”

“She’ll do it for free! If you could stop interrupting me for one second. Dr Cho will do it and she won’t charge I promise.”

Nibbling on your lip as blood splashed down the counter you started to shake your head.

“I can ring her now and ask her to come here if you want?”

“I-will she?”

“Of course give me a minute” he steps away to ring the doctor. “She’s on her way” he comes closer and helps you wrap your hand in the tea towel.

“Bucky, I’m really sorry for snapping I-“

“Y/n it’s fine okay. Cho’s on her way she’s nice and she’ll fix your finger”

“Momma what happened?” Cora goes pale at the sight of blood.

“Momma had a bit of an accident Princess Cora, can you go back to Mr Jasper and Alpine for me?” Bucky says before you had the chance.

“Okay but is momma okay?”

“Yes sweetheart she is, don’t worry”

Cora looks at you waiting for confirmation and when she gets a smile and a nod she runs back to her brother and Alpine.

“Thank you Buck-shit it’s really stinging”

“I know, she should be her-“ the knock at the door cuts him off, just before he walks off he kisses you on your forehead.

Hearing him talk to the doctor your fingers lightly grazed the part where he had kissed, a small shy smile made its way on your lips.

“Cho this is Y/n, Y/n this is Cho”

“Hi it’s a pleasure to meet you, James said that you’ve injured your finger?”

“Hi, and yeah I-I wasn’t looking at what I was doing and sliced myself” awkwardly lifting your hand up that now had dry blood on your arm.

“Hi Miss who are you?” Cora comes over with her hand on her hip.

“Hello I’m Helen”

“Hello Helen I’m Princess Cora, that’s momma, Mr Bucky and over there is Jasper and Alpine”

Helen curtsy’s at Cora making the six year old giggle “It’s nice to meet your family Princess Cora”

The implication that Bucky was apart of your family didn’t slip your notice and by the look of Bucky’s face it didn’t him either, neither one of you said anything to correct her though.

Cora walks off once again and Helen turns her attention back to you, unwrapping the towel she turned to Bucky telling him what she needed out of her medical bag.

With him distracted you looked at Helen “I-I can’t pay you so it’s okay just to put a plaster on it, it’ll be fine in a few days”

“Don’t be silly I’m not charging you” she says softly. “Thank you James, Y/n this might hurt but I’ll try and be as gentle as I can”

It was weird because it hurt until Bucky held your other hand. Strange.

“All done, if it’s easier for you I’ll come back here in a few weeks to remove the stitches”

You thank her once again as Bucky walks her to the door. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah I’m okay. Bucky I really am so-“

His lips cut you off. Said lips being attached to yours.

“Stop apologising, it’s my turn now - Y/n I’m really sorry for that” he says once he’s pulled away.

“Did you not like it? Was it bad?” You panic, it was your first kiss in over two years to you it was magical but not to him as he apologising.

“God no doll, to both questions. It’s just I should have asked first-why are you smiling like that?”

“C-can I have another one?”

Bucky chuckles just as his lips gently touch yours again.

A week after nearly chopping your finger off and having not one, not two but three kisses with Bucky, he knocked on the door and let himself in like you told him to do.

“Hi Buck”

“Hey doll, where’s my two favourite people in the world at?” Pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Jaspers down for a nap and Cora’s in her room, Buck she’s upset”

“Why? Who’s hurt her?”

“One of the girls in her class is having a sleepover and invited all the other girls in the class, apart from Cory”

Your heart breaking again remembering how sad she looked coming out of school, normally she was all smiles and talking a thousand miles per hour, filling you in on what she had done that day but not today. It wasn’t until you got home where she finally broke down in tears.

“When?”

“Tonight, apparently all the other girls knew and was told not to tell Cora”

“Is her friend going?”

“Abbie? No she’s in a different class so she’s hasn’t been invited either”

“Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be back”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise doll” he winks before kissing you and leaving.

And sure enough twenty minutes later he was walking back through the door. This time he had two bags in his hands.

“Bucky?”

“Me, you and the kids are having our own sleep over and it’s going to be way better than that snobby-“

“She’s six Bucky”

“And? She didn’t invite the best girl to her sleep over so there for… she’s snobby”

Shaking your head you couldn’t help but smile as he pulled different snacks and drinks out of the bag onto the coffee table.

“So I’m thinking that we’ll make a pillow fort, watch movies and eat snacks and I’ll order us a pizza from Cora’s favourite place?”

Every fibre in your being was screaming at you just say those three words but you couldn’t, not yet at least. You and Bucky wasn’t even dating all you did was share a few kisses, it’ll be weird to blurt out them words.

“Mr Bucky you’re here” Cora says coming out of her bedroom.

“I’m here sweetheart, did your momma not tell you what was happening tonight?”

“No, what’s happening?”

“Us four are having a sleepover”

“Really?” She squeals and runs into Bucky who lifts her up. “Thank you thank you! This is the best day ever!”

You hear Jasper call out for you from his room so you leave Bucky and Cora alone. Picking Jasper up from his bed and walk in to the living room where the two year old says something that stops not only you in your tracks but Bucky and Cora.

“Dada”

His little arms reaching out to the only man in the room. Bucky’s eyes bounce from you then to Jasper, then to you. You can see it in his eyes that he’s begging you to tell him what to do but you can’t, you’re completely frozen.

“Bucky” he says slowly as to make Jasper understand but all he receives is-

“Dada” Jasper giggles and repeats the word a few more times.

Bucky finally puts Cora down and slowly makes his way over to you two and when he’s just in reach Jaspers jumped out of your arms and into Bucky’s. As soon as Bucky has hold of him you walk out of the room going straight to your bedroom. Shutting the door you burst out crying.

“Doll? I’m coming in okay?” It had been close to ten minutes since you had walked out. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry”

“Why are you sorry for?” Wiping your tears he pulls you into his chest.

“I tried correcting him but he just wouldn’t stop, even Cora told him not to”

“Did she say anything to you? About their father I mean.”

“No she just looked really upset.”

“He erm, he-“

“Y/n you don’t have to tell me, it’s okay”

“No no I want to, I trust you. He left, well he kicked me and Cora out when I was four months pregnant. Everything was fine that morning when we woke up, he went to work I stayed at home and when I was putting his dinner out he came home with an envelope in his hands and threw it on the table, he walked into Cora’s bedroom walked out with a huge bag a few minutes later then did the same with our room” wiping the fresh tears that had fallen, you hadn’t spoken about that day to anyone - not even your family.

“He told me to open the letter so I did an-and inside was paper, right. When I read it, it said that he had given up his rights to Cora and the unborn baby. I asked him why he was doing this and he told me I ruined his life when Cora was born and I was doing it again with the new baby, said he wanted to live his life without being tied down. Kicked me and a crying three year old out, at first I thought he had been cheating on me but it turns out he wasn’t, there was no one on the side he just wanted to live his life”

Bucky was practically shaking, you could feel the anger coming from him.

“I found out a few months later that all of our friends knew what he was doing, promised him that they would keep his secret and that he started the process when I was a few weeks along. Everyday he told me and Cory he loved us, spoke to the bump saying he couldn’t wait to meet them all while he and everyone around us knew what he was doing.”

“Y/n… doll I’m so sorry”

“Why it’s not your fault, you know Cory never even mentioned him after it happened not once, I thought she would of because she was such a daddy’s girl three nearly four years old and she knew, she knew he didn’t want her anymore so she never asked when she was going to see him or called out for him during the night. If he had just told me he didn’t want me anymore that I would have been okay with bu-but to not want anything to do with his kids? It didn’t make sense to me”

“Has he even been in contact with you since?”

“No. I got a phone call once from his friend who told me that he was really struggling to sell the house and somehow it was my fault”

“How was it your fault?”

“God knows, he started rambling off then started calling me names when he heard Ms Hopewell’s son talking in the background, said I had moved on pretty quick when I hadn’t. He was there helping me fix up my bed after his mum found out I was sleeping on the floor”

“Doll-“

“Don’t apologise again please Bucky, I got through it I’m fine now. I think hearing Jasper call you dada made unwanted emotions come up you know? You’ve obviously realised that he doesn’t speak much even at two there’s only a few words he can say, I don’t know where I went wrong with that but I’ve tried, I’ve tried teaching him other words but he just don’t.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n you are an incredible mum, those two kids out there are the most sweetest loving people. Jasper will start talking soon, I just know it”

You tried, you really did.

“I love you”

Oh the silence was killing you.

“I love you too” he smiled softly.

He leant in for a kiss when-

“Is Bucky our new daddy?”

“Not yet sweetheart” not yet played in your mind over and over even as he stands up winking at you and taking Coras hand in his and walks back to the living room.

That night after all the excitement needed to come to an end all four of you climbed into your bed. Cora tucked snuggly in your arms, Jasper in Bucky’s, Bucky’s left arm over your waist pulling all three of you closer to him. Alpine slept curled up in a ball at the bottom.

For the first time in just over two years you went to sleep dried faced and peacefully.

And unbeknownst to you, it was the first time in a very very long time that Bucky only had happy dreams as he slept.

It had been a month since the sleepover and confession, within that month Bucky had practically moved in. Alpine spent all her time with Cora and Jasper, sleeping with Jasper at night.

Bucky had to go on a work trip, he’d been gone for just over two weeks now and to be truthful you was missing him even if you did speak to him everyday, him ringing every night to say goodnight to the kids and speaking to you for a few minutes before he had to leave.

It was Wednesday afternoon and you couldn’t stop worrying when Bucky hadn’t called you the night before or that day. As you was cleaning the apartment the knock at the door made you jump. Cora went to jump up and answer it but since you knew it wasn’t Bucky you told her to stop receiving a frown in response.

Answering the door you froze.

“Hi, are you Y/n?” Nodding your head at the man he smiled. “Hi I’m-“

“Momma it’s Captain America!” Cora squealed from behind you.

Turning his attention from you to Cora he smiled softly “hello you must be Miss Cora, Bucky’s told me all about you”

“You know Mr Bucky? Momma he knows Bucky”

“I-I know sweetie” your eyes still trained on the blonde “would you like to come in?”

“Thank you”

Pulling Cora closer to you, you watched as Steve walked into your home. You couldn’t put your finger on it but for some reason you didn’t like the feeling you had in your stomach. Steve walked into the living room where Jasper and Alpine was.

“Cora take Jasper and Alpine into your room please”

“Why momma?”

“Just do as I say”

Cora listened and picked up her younger brother who had Alpine in his arms and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her you let out a deep breath.

“Hi, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, is Bucky alright?”

“Yeah he’s fine, he asked me to come over and pick you guys up. It’s better if he explains”

“Where is he?”

“He’s at the tower, I need you to pack some clothes and come with me”

“For how long?”

“Enough for a few days”

“What’s Bucky’s favourite book?”

“Huh?”

“What’s his favourite book?” You asked again with your arms crossed.

“The Hobbit, why?”

“Okay, I’ll be right back”

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Just to see if it was really you” Steve’s laugh made you smile as you walked into Cora’s room.

Once packed Steve stood there holding the bags in one hand and in the other Cora’s hand as they both stood watching with amused smiles as you struggled to get Alpine into the cat carrier that Bucky had brought over a few weeks earlier when you both took her to the vets.

After almost ten minutes of struggling all it took was Jasper to pick her up and place her inside.

Never in your life have you been more thankful for your two year old.

“Bucky gave me his car keys” giving Steve a questionable look, he smiled “he said that he brought car seats for the kids and since we don’t have any laying around the tower it would be better if I took his car”

You didn’t know that he had brought car seats…

“O-oh”

You watched in awe as Steve strapped Cora into her seat that was princess themed easily, when he caught you staring at him “Bucky and I practiced with Morgan, Pepper her mum helped us figure it out. Got to say we’re naturals now” he laughed.

“I honestly didn’t know he was doing this”

“He really likes you and these kids, don’t tell him I told you this but he’s been reading books about kid’s development and stuff.”

“No he hasn’t…” you say as you put your seatbelt on.

“He has. That’s how I found out about you guys”

“I-I’m-wow. I didn’t know”

Steve chuckles at your shocked expression, “like I said he really likes you”

The rest of the drive was quiet between you and Steve, Cora asking the blonde a million of questions about everything and anything and him answering all of them with as much enthusiasm as she gave.

You didn’t have very much time to stare in fascination at the huge tower as Steve pulled into the underground garage, the squeals from both Cora and Jasper had your attention going to where they were shouting, Bucky stood there with his hands deep in his pockets and a large smile on his face as the car pulled up to a stop, going straight to the back door where Jasper was sat.

“Hey little man”

“Dada!”

“I’m here buddy, come on let’s get you out of this seat, yeah”.

Steve had already gotten out and making his way to help Cora out of her seat.

“Bucky it’s Captain America and he’s my friend” she said making both men smile.

“Is he now? Am I still your friend?”

“Of course Bucky! Your my best friend”

You had removed yourself from the car and made your way to get the bags out of the boot when Steve’s voice stopped you.

“I’ll get them don’t worry”

“You’ve done enough-“

“No honestly it’s fine”

"Come on doll, he'll be fine plus everyone's dying to meet you” Bucky says as he places Jasper further onto his hip.

"Are you sure Steve?"

"I'm sure, don't worry"

Reluctantly leaving Steve to grab the bags you take Bucky's free hand and hold onto Cora's, all four of you make your way into the large building.

"Doll, after I introduce you to the team you and I need to talk” Bucky whispered in your ear making you nervous slightly. 

“Ah here’s the Manchurian Candidate’s little family, welcome I’m-“

“Iron man!” Cora cut him off.

“You know who I am then?”

“Yes! You fly in the air and it’s so cool!” She says excitedly.

“I fly too” Sam Wilson laughs - Cora’s eyes go wide at seeing him.

“T-the Falcon! Momma look it’s the Falcon a-and Black Widow an-and Scarlet Witch! A-a-and momma it’s Thor!” She spoke so fast she started to stutter, her entire body shaking with excitement making everyone chuckle.

You all heard hurried footsteps and a voice speaking with a hint of panic come closer. “Are they here? I’m sorry I’m late”

The loud gasp had everyone’s eyes snapping down to Cora - including yours and Bucky’s. “I-it’s Bruce! M-momma he-it-Bruce-Hulk” she lets go of your hand and runs up to a very confused looking Bruce “I’m-your-your hulk! You’re my favourite! I have so so so so so many toys of you don’t I momma? I do Bruce!” Once again everyone chuckles at her, not that she pays any attention to them, too busy looking up at the man who she’s pretended to be when she’s playing.

“Hi, you must be Cora?” Bruce says with a soft hue coating his cheeks.

Her eyes widen comically, turning to you slowly her chest rising and falling fast. “B-Bruce knows my name mo-momma”

“I know beautiful, just breathe okay”

“Can I hug you please?” She asks politely and nearly squeals when he nods and crouches down to her level. “This is the best day ever!” She declares whilst keeping her arms around Bruce’s neck.

Whilst the team was distracting the kids Bucky took your hand and led you both to his room. “I need to tell you something, and maybe ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“When I was in Wakanda Shuri promised me that if I ever wanted to go back I was welcome, and that I could live there, work there, have a life there and… and doll I want to retire, I’m done with this life, I’ve been doing it for so long.”

“Do it.” You said after a few minutes of silence, the hopeful look in his eyes hurt your heart, and even though it meant that what ever you two were was now at an end and you would have to explain to the kids that they wouldn’t see him or Alpine again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him not to go.

“What?”

“Retire, move to Wakanda and have an amazing life there.” You smiled softly at him. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, you deserve to be free Bucky.”

“B-But that’s the thing Y/n, I have you and the kids and I don’t want to leave you three behind.”

“You can always visit or we could visit you?”

Moving closer to you, taking your hands in his, he shakes his head. “No doll, I don’t think you understand. I’m in love with you and I love your kids like they’re my own and I’m happier than I have ever been since meeting you three, I want to ask if you will move with me? If-if not I can stay here with you, I don’t want to lose my family”

For the past year Bucky lived happily in Wakanda, true to her word Shuri welcomed him with open arms and even showed him a farm house that she got built just for him - right where his hut use to be. He had his own farm, his own sanctuary and he loved every single part of it.

Bucky would admit that he had missed New York, especially Steve and the little life he had for himself there but he knew he made the right decision by walking away from it all.

As he was walking towards his home some of the local children were playing with a football, all stopping their game to run over to him, all wanting a hug from the White Wolf as they still called him.

“Daddy!”

“Ah, there’s my little girl! How are you princess?”

“I’m okay, are we going home?”

“You can stay out and play for a little bit? I don’t think momma will be mad.”

“No, I want to go home now.” Watching as she waves goodbye to her friends, she lifts her arms out for him to pick her up.

“You are so heavy now.”

“No I’m not!” She giggles.

Walking through the gate and down the pathway Bucky opens the door, helping his little girl take her shoes off as well as his own, Alpine trots over to them giving them a welcome home meow.

“Momma we’re home!”

They both stand there hearing footsteps come closer to them. “Did you have fun Cory?”

“I did momma, where’s Jaspy?”

“He’s in the living room baby. Hey handsome.”

“Hi beautiful.”

When Bucky asked if you would move to Wakanda with him, you was skeptical, it’s not that you didn’t want to go but you had two children to think about. You asked Cora about it and she seemed happy about moving to a new place, Tony let Bucky take a jet for the four of you to fly out to see how the kids took to the place.

Cora’s jaw dropped wide open when she met Shuri. “A-A real princess!” She stuttered, you thought she was going to collapse the second Shuri opened her arms for the six year old to hug her. Cora instantly made friends with some of the children she met, and when she met the farm animals it was that moment she was sold on moving there.

Jasper seemed happy too, he was fascinated by the goats and wanted to touch each and every one of them. Bucky told you that Alpine now had competition.

After a few days in the beautiful land you came back to New York, the next day you sat the kids down and asked them if they wanted to stay - both shaking their heads- or go to Wakanda - both of them screaming ‘yes’. A week later both yours and Bucky’s apartments were empty and ready for new people to call the places home.

“How are my babies doing?”

“Jasper and Alpine decided to wreck the play room.” You both chuckled. “And this little one has been very active today.” Bucky’s hands went straight to your growing bump, his eyes lighting up at feeling his third child move around in the love of his life’s stomach.

Five months ago you found out you were pregnant, and whilst you was happy you couldn’t help but feel nervous about Bucky’s behaviour changing towards Cora and Jasper, when you told him he burst out crying and kept saying that he was going to be a dad again, he kissed you and your stomach. It wasn’t just you that was scared but Cora was as well, Bucky promised that he would love all his children equally, later that night he promised you that nothing would change and that he is still Cora and Jaspers dad regardless.

“I love you and I love our perfect family.”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[thehaberdasheress]

Wishing strength to the sword arms at the Canadian Union of Postal Workers, who are striking for better wages and working conditions at Canada Post. That's our national mail service, which is currently shut down - mail across Canada is not being collected, processed, or delivered until an agreement is reached.

Postal workers do hard and invaluable work that is the backbone of our economy, and also my business. The union are fighting for a lot of things, from rest and meals during the workday to gender-affirming care in their insurance package.

This means I'm writing my MP to encourage the government and Canada Post to find resolution through compromise, not force and legislation.

I apologize to my customers for any delays or expenses that happen while this dispute drags on. I'll do my best to find alternate mail carriers and let you know what's going on. This will affect orders of embroidery patterns and sewing tools, but print-on-demand items like mugs, dresses, or umbrellas should still work smoothly.