#I swear those three planned to hurt us all at the same time

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi, sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if your planning on updating Congratulations! It's Triplets anytime soon? Because I kinda wanna see what happens once they actually sit down and talk through their misunderstandings because honestly although jazz is probably too busy to go through with it now she was training herself to be one of 2 courses in college which was either neurology or phycology so I figured she'd be the first to recognize that they need to have a sit down and talk with everything laid out or at least partially laid out, it being a really long really difficult conversion with tears trauma flashbacks and probably cake (because let's be honest this convo needs comfort food) and by the end of it they might not even fixed all the misunderstandings they had but it's a start in the right direction :)

"I'm sorry the kids threaten you. They can be a handful," is the first thing out of Jasmine's mouth. She is holding a glass tray with delicious-smelling lasagna, wearing a teal dress that hugs all her curves and seems dolled up for a night out.

She marches right by him, her long red hair falling into wavy curls down her back like waterfalls. They sway with her movement as she leads the way to the dining room.

On the table is a dinner set for two, red candles lit, and the lights dim. It makes him think of all those silly scenes in romance novels he consumed growing up. Jasmine places the tray in the center of the table alongside a salad. She carefully pours some bubbling water into two champagne glasses, humming.

Once done, she turns towards him, taking off the apron wrapped around her front. It reveals a nice but modest view of a split on her dress ending on the edge of her midleg.

"I told them to get you so we can have a dinner date. Bruce offered to babysit for the night." She proclaims, crossing her arms. "I want to see if there is a future for us or if the god of time is just an idiot."

Jason is so stunned by her beauty that he can't find any words to respond. He feels like she just pulled out a live fish and threw it at his face. While he's busy gawking like a fool, the three children squirm in his arms before he feels little hands fumbling around the edge of his helmet.

He jerks his neck away, a warning of bombs on his lips, only to bite his tongue when Dan bypasses his security to pull off the helmet with a laugh. At the same time, Dani reaches up to rip the mask off his face, fast and stiff enough that he swears she was a professional waxer in a past life.

He lets out a yowl, barely able to shift his words from a swear into a substitute. Danny pats his cheek, apologizing for his sibling's lack of manners. Dan doesn't seem to care because he scrambles off Jason's shoulders, head inside of the helmet that was too large for him, and races down the hallway.

"I'm unstoppable!" He screams in glee. Two seconds later, he rams into a wall, hitting it at full force due to the helmet blocking his view. He bounces off the drywall with enough force. He lands on his rear and a soft grunt.

Dani takes that chance to hop out of Jason's arms. She runs at a speed he's sure kids shouldn't be able to reach without having the Allen family gene, tackling Dan before his son can get up. In a tussle that looks too violent for five-year-olds, Dani rips the helmet out of Dan's hands and books it down the hallway, cackling like a loon.

"No! Dani! Give that back!" Dan demands, leaping to his feet and running after his sister. The voice modifiers of their outfits make them sound darker than usual, but it does not make them sound threatening.

Danny sighs heavily. "I better go stop them before that thing blows up. Treat my mom well, or I'll be forced to hurt you."

He patted Jason's cheek again, carefully climbing down to the ground. Despite his words, he calmly walks out of the room, hands tucked into his Prince of Gotham suit pants as if he were going on a casual stroll. The second he reaches the door, he grabs the handle and tugs to close.

Just as it's about to seal, he points two fingers toward his green glowing mask eyes and then points them aggressively at Jason. Once his warning is received, he finishes closing the door.

Jason is left standing in the room, confused out of his mind. It all happened so fast that he was unsure if the kids planned that exit or if they were honestly just like that. It burns to not be sure.

He should.

He is their father.

"Well, sit down. We have a date to get through." Jasmine commands, pushing some of her red hair out of her face. She levels an even calculating stare on him, making him feel she is more prepared for a business meeting than anything romantic. "Let's see what the god of time has in store for us."

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 10 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

9 months later. . .

“Look who finally made it,” Liam teases when he opens his door.

I scoff playfully and hug him after being ushered into the apartment. “I’m sorry. I know I said I’d be here earlier, but traffic was a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I know.” He waves me off and runs a hand down his dress shirt, smoothing it out. “But I have to get going, or I’m going to be late.”

I nod and accept the spare key he hands me while slipping into his dress shoes. “Have fun!” I tease when he shrugs on his jacket.

“It’s a business dinner, not a date, Y/N.” He deadpans which makes me laugh and slap his shoulder before he leaves with a final wave and smile.

It’s the end of September and I’m visiting New York for a couple of days since I have some time off before the hockey season begins again.

I’m here to visit Liam— obviously, since I’m staying with him— but also Tara and Sam, who agreed it would be better if I stayed with Liam since they’re apartment is fairly small and their roommate, Quinn, doesn’t know me.

Since Christmas, we’ve only seen each other once, three months ago, at one of my hockey games which Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad came to see after they all collectively moved to New York.

I was happy to see them again, and glad we were once again living in the same time zone, but there was an underlying tension the whole time we hung out because things between Sam and I haven’t been the same ever since Christmas.

While Tara and I are in contact almost daily, Sam and I barely even talk once a week. It’s not for her lack of trying though, it’s because I’ve distanced myself ever since I realized it was hopeless to think the two of us could ever be a thing.

I gave up on her, doing exactly what Tara told me not to do, and I even tried to move on, but that didn’t work out as planned.

I went on a couple of dates here and there, and hooked up with several people, but I just can’t get over Sam even though nowadays we’re barely even friends.

The only reason we could still be considered friends is because of our backstory and because Tara connects us. Other than that, we’re back to the way things were when Sam first returned to Woodsboro, and being like this hurts even more than when she was simply gone.

Those five years were undoubtedly the most painful years of my life, but now everything is so much worse. I thought I’d gotten Sam back, I thought we could finally be something, but all of that hope shattered as soon as she said she’d never do long distance. She also never acknowledged how Richie exposed my feelings for her, which makes it abundantly clear that she’d rather just forget about it and move on as friends.

I know she doesn’t owe me anything and she’s been trying to stay in contact as best as she can, but I’m just too hurt to let her back in and accept her as just a friend.

I know how stupid that sounds and it’s not my intention to hurt her by keeping my distance, but it’s just how I cope with everything.

With a sigh I enter Liam’s apartment properly and let out an impressed whistle when I realize just how big and luxurious it actually is. When he sent me his address and I saw that it was on the upper west side, I was surprised because living here is usually reserved for the rich and famous, but he explained that his company owns the building and rents its apartments to their employees for a reasonable price.

That doesn’t make it any less luxurious though, and when I take a look in the bathroom and see a rain shower with a view of the twinkling city outside I make a mental note to use it as soon as possible.

Right now, I’m hungry though, so I raid Liam’s fridge, helping myself to a smoothie and some leftover chocolate cake that he has for some reason.

The dinner he’s at right now wasn’t planned, it was a last minute thing his boss organized, but I’m not complaining. Yes, we were supposed to do something together tonight, but I’ll just check and see if Sam and Tara are free instead.

We’re supposed to meet up tomorrow for lunch, but I don’t see why I can’t stop by their place tonight, too.

I pull out my phone and call Tara after gulping down some of my smoothie. She doesn’t answer, so I reluctantly call Sam next.

Tara’s probably in the shower or something. . . God knows she loves to take long ass showers. When she lived with me my water bill almost doubled.

Sam picks up after two rings which is not surprising since I can’t remember the last time I called her instead of the other way around.

“Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Her concerned voice makes my stomach twist and I hate how she thinks something’s wrong because I’m calling her instead of Tara.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m okay. Just got into the city and was wondering if I could stop by your place for some dinner since Liam was called into work,” I say.

The sound of traffic on Sam’s end of the line makes me realize she’s not home and I think calling might have been a mistake, but she immediately agrees. “Of course. I’ll text you the address again. I’m not home yet because I just got out of therapy, but Tara and Quinn should be home.“

“Okay. Thanks.”

There’s an awkward silence, but Sam is quick to break it by saying, “Alright then. See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you.” I hang up and exhale slowly.

It’s just Sam, Y/N. Pull yourself together. You’re going to go see Tara and Sam, and their roommate, not just Sam.

The two of us haven’t been alone since Christmas eve and I’m not planning on changing that anytime soon.

I finish the piece of cake and throw away the empty smoothie bottle before grabbing a zip up hoodie from my bag and heading out of the apartment.

Sam and Tara’s apartment is quite far away, and because I’m not in the mood to call an Uber or take the subway, I take one of the public e scooters standing around, unlocking it with my phone before heading off.

It’s nice getting some fresh air after being cooped up in my car for hours and not even fifteen minutes later I’m in front of the building Sam sent me the address of.

I get off the scooter and park it around the corner, making my way inside the building after getting buzzed in by some random person.

Compared to Liam’s building, this place is a dump, but it seems relatively safe and affordable, so who am I to judge. This is New York after all.

I head up the stairs and knock on the door of Sam and Tara’s apartment, my heart rate picking up with each second that passes until the door finally opens.

Having expected Sam or Tara, I’m surprised when a stranger greets me. It’s a red haired girl, around Tara’s age, with a round face and gray eyes. She’s dressed in only a robe and I momentarily avert my eyes when she reties it around her waist.

“Hi, you must be Quinn,” I say, raising my hand in greeting.

Quinn’s eyes rake over me and she smirks before her eyes snap back up to mine. “Yeah, and you’re Y/N, right?”

I nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her hungry gaze. “The one and only,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Quinn’s face softens ever so slightly and her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “So I heard. . . You’re here to see Sam and Tara?” she guesses and when I nod again, she opens the door properly and invites me inside.

“Sam should be here any minute, but Tara is out,” she says.

I frown. “She’s out? Sam said she’d be here.”

Quinn smiles apologetically and goes to say something but then a man’s voice from a nearby room calls for her. “Babe? You coming back or what?”

My eyes widen and I feel heat rushing into my cheeks. That’s why she’s only wearing a robe. “Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. . . interrupt you and your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” Quinn laughs as if the idea is ridiculous and waves me off. “Oh don’t worry. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just hooking up.” She eyes me once again with that lustful look in her eyes and bites her lip seductively, squeezing my biceps. “You could join us if you want. The more the merrier, am I right?”

I squirm and pull my arm out of her grasp with an uncomfortable smile. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

God, what’s up with her?

I want to ask about Tara’s whereabouts again when the door behind us opens.

My eyes instantly lock with Sam’s and even though I’m nervous to see her again, I’m also relieved she’s here to distract Quinn from making a move on me again.

“Y/N. . .” She hugs me after a moment’s hesitation before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it up on the hook next to the door. “I see you’ve already met Quinn.”

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly and avoid looking at the aforementioned roommate. “Mhmm.”

Quinn, having absolutely no shame whatsoever, touches my arm again. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was such a snack, Sam?”

Oh lord. . .

My face heats up again, but Sam is quick to come to my rescue. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow before stepping in between Quinn and me which forces the redhead to let go of me.

“Right. I forgot you don’t like to share.” Quinn laughs, unbothered and turns to head into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I know she can be a bit much sometimes.” Sam glances at me over her shoulder, and I wave her off nervously.

“It’s okay.“

She turns as soon as Quinn is out of sight and I hold my breath at how close she is.

She looks as beautiful as ever even though she looks tired and I curse my heart for flipping in my chest when she picks a piece of lint off my shoulder.

The white off-shoulder top she’s wearing over her tank top looks incredible on her and I have to force myself not to look at her exposed neck and collar bones too much, a task that is incredibly hard because she’s wearing the necklace I gave her for Christmas.

It glints in the low light and even though the knowledge that she still wears it makes my insides melt, it also serves as a reminder why I’ve been keeping my distance.

Don’t get hurt again, Y/N.

I swallow thickly and lean back a little, not missing the way confusion and hurt flashes across Sam’s face before she clears her throat and steps back.

She looks anywhere but at me before asking Quinn, “Have you seen Tara?”

Quinn, who was just about to open a bottle of wine in the kitchen turns with a sheepish smile. “Uh, don’t be mad. . .”

I frown and follow Sam into the kitchen.

“Why would I be mad?” Sam asks and the way Quinn winces slightly at her tone makes my lips twitch with amusement.

“Because you get mad,” she says and I can’t help but agree silently.

Sam does have a temper, however I’m not sure why she’d be mad when Quinn tells her where Tara is as long as she’s not alone.

“Babe?” The guy from what I’m assuming is Quinn’s bedroom calls for her again which makes Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the question of Tara’s whereabouts momentarily forgotten.

“Is that Paul?” she asks and Quinn cringes when the guy shouts, “Who the fuck is Paul?”

“Life, I have found,” she says quietly with an innocent shrug, “is all about variety.”

This time I can’t help but smile properly, and Sam chuckles softly, too.

“So, uh, where’s Tara?” she asks after a moment which makes Quinn sigh helplessly, the wine on the counter forgotten as she toys with the bottle opener in her hands.

“She went to the Omega Kappa Beta party.”

Huh. I didn’t think Tara’d be one to enjoy frat parties but I guess she’s young and wants to try everything now that she’s in a new city and in college.

Sam doesn’t seem to agree though and it’s clear why Quinn was scared of her getting mad when she exclaims, “What? I begged her not to go to that!”

I want to tell her that it’s just a party, but she seems to haver her reasons why she doesn’t want Tara there, so I stay quiet.

Quinn sighs again. “And we’ve now arrived at mad. . .”

I try my best not to smile— Quinn’s actually pretty funny now that she’s not trying to sleep with me— and focus on Sam instead.

She seems ready to explode, but gathers herself by taking a deep breath and closes her eyes momentarily. Then she deflates and when she asks, “Do you know if she at least took her taser?” she sounds more worried than mad.

A taser?

Quinn grabs the wine off the counter and pushes the cork screw into the cork before twisting it and opening the bottle. “I cannot speak to how heavily armed Tara is at this fraternity party,” she says hesitantly which makes Sam huff in frustration and brush past me back to the front door where she grabs a taser from a dresser.

I follow her, knowing she’s going to go back out to look for Tara, and Quinn follows me with the now open bottle of wine in hand, ready to return to her not-boyfriend.

Sam eyes the taser for a moment, her jaw working and I move around her to grab her jacket off the hook for her.

Right as I reach for it though, Quinn says something that makes me freeze. “Oohh. Is cute boy shirtless again?”

My head snaps around so fast, it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap, and my eyes instantly land on what, or rather who, Quinn and Sam are looking at through the window. There’s a shirtless guy, seemingly my age or a couple years older in the apartment right across from us.

I have to admit, he is cute with his neatly trimmed beard and muscular upper body, and I even smile when Quinn’s not-boyfriend asks, “Who’s cute boy, babe?” and Quinn cringes, replying, “Always you. . . sweetie.” But that smile is quickly wiped off my face when I see the way Sam is looking at him.

Her eyes are soft and there’s something like longing written all over her face which feels like a sucker punch to the stomach.

This is why I keep my distance. . . She’s not mine and if she likes this cute boy, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s not that I’m jealous, I’m just hurt and I’m once again reminded to keep my heart guarded.

But then Sam’s eyes snap to me and her face instantly falls and something like guilt flickers across her eyes, but I don’t dwell on it and avert my own eyes, staring at my shoes and fidgeting with Liam’s key in the pocket of my hoodie.

“You guys have been checking each other out for months, why don’t you just talk to him?” Quinn asks softly, and once again, it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

Sam turns away from the window and I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up. “Because. . .” Her voice falters ever so slightly before going on. “That right there is all the romantic interaction I’m ready for.”

Once again a reminder that she’s not over Richie, and definitely not into me. . .

Out of the corner of my eye I see Quinn shrug and when Sam says, “I’m going to find Tara, you coming with me, Y/N?” I nod wordlessly without meeting her eye, and follow her out of the apartment after returning Quinn’s awkward wave.

I’m doing exactly what I planned on avoiding, which is being alone with Sam, but my worry for her going out alone outweighs my need to keep my distance, so I silently follow her down the stairs and outside where she pulls out her phone to look up the directions to the frat house.

I forgot you don’t like to share. . .

Quinn’s words suddenly echo through my mind and I frown because Sam and I obviously aren’t a thing, but before I can dwell on it too long, Sam nudges me and starts walking. “Come on, let’s go. The frat house isn’t too far from here, so we can walk.”

I wordlessly fall into step beside her, intent on not talking about what just happened, but she seems to have other plans because after we cross the street she turns to me with furrowed eyebrows and says, “You know, Danny and I aren’t a thing or anything. . .”

“What?” I know she probably means cute boy, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that. I thought they only knew each other because they live across from each other, but it seems as though they know each other better than that. Also, the fact that Sam is trying to deny that something is going on between them makes me believe there actually is something going.

Which is fine. . . Totally fine. She’s an adult and she can make her own choices.

“Y-you know,” she stutters. “The guy, Cute Boy, he and I, we’re not a thing. Not really— I mean we’re just—“

I stop dead in my tracks and raise a hand which makes her shut up and stop walking as well. “Why are you telling me this?”

She seems taken aback by the harshness of my tone and frowns, so I sigh and add, “I mean, I don’t tell you anything about my love life, so why are you telling me about yours?”

Sam’s frown deepens. “I just— I thought you should know— I mean. . . You’re my best friend.”

I scoff and before I can stop myself I say, “Am I though?”

“What?”

“Your best friend?” I clarify, ignoring how crushed she looks at the implication of my words. “We’ve barely spoken in nine months.”

“And whose fault is that?” she snaps back defensively. She crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me with a challenging glare.

I know she’s not actually mad, she’s just hurt and she’s put up her guard, so I deflate a little.

She’s right, it’s my fault we haven’t really talked since Christmas, but I’m not about to spill the beans and tell her why.

“Look,” I say softly. “Let’s not get into this now.”

“Why not?” she asks harshly. “Because you can’t just hang up if it gets too much?”

I cringe at that because lately every time she calls and asks what’s wrong I usually come up with an excuse to hang up or ignore her texts.

I shake my head and let out a deep breath. “Let’s just find Tara okay, we can get into this tomorrow.”

Sam bites the inside of her cheek and the storm of emotions in her eyes makes me believe she’s about to disagree, but then she huffs and turns around to continue leading our way to the frat house.

Long story short, at the party, Sam ends up tasing a guy who tried to drag Tara upstairs in the balls which in turn leads to Tara storming out with the rest of us— Mindy, her girlfriend Anika, Chad, Chad’s roommate Ethan, Sam, and me— hot on her heels.

“Tara, will you stop?” Sam says, sounding irritated as Tara continues to dash ahead. She’s short and has asthma, so she’s not going all too fast, but still. . .

She has yet to realize I’m also here, but I don’t want to get in the middle of what’s about to go down between her and Sam, so I stay back with the others, the twins having greeted me with quick hugs a moment ago before officially introducing me to Anika and Ethan.

“I cannot believe you did that! You embarrassed me!” Tara shouts over her shoulder.

“That guy was a dick. He was going to take advantage of you,” Sam argues and even though she’s right, that guy was really sleazy, she didn’t actually have to tase him. Also it looked like Chad had it covered, but I’m not about to get in the middle of this.

“So?” Tara stops abruptly and turns on her heels to face Sam.

The rest of us come to a halt a safe distance away, but I raise my eyebrows at what Tara just said.

“So?” Sam echoes incredulously, voicing my exact thoughts, but Tara is not having it.

“If I want to hook up with an asshole that’s my decision!” she shouts and even though she’s right, it is her decision, I don’t like the way she’s talking to Sam like she did something wrong by trying to protect her.

Sam tenses and I know what Tara just said hit a nerve, but she stays calm and simply nods dismissively. “Okay. . .”

Tara doesn’t seem to be done just yet though because she goes on, “I mean, you’re out of my life for five years and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.”

Yikes. She’s right, but. . . yikes.

“Because you’re not dealing with what happened to us,” Sam shoots back, her voice relatively calm. “Have you even gone to see the counselor once?”

“No, I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

I sigh and share at look with Chad and Mindy who seem to be hating this just as much as me, if not even more because it sounds like this isn’t the first time the two sisters have been at each other’s throats.

Anika and Ethan just look uncomfortable and if it weren’t for the fight I’d laugh at how ridiculous they look, what with Ethan wearing Anika’s pumpkin hat and Anika wearing Ethan’s ridiculous cardboard helmet that matches his handcrafted chest plate.

“Hey, guys, come on,” Chad tries to step in at one point when Tara accuses Sam of living in the past, but he’s straight up ignored and I shoot him a pitiful look when our eyes meet.

They continue bickering, and even though I agree with Tara that we shouldn’t let something that happened to us for three days define the rest of our lives, I don’t like how she puts Sam on the spot in front of everyone by asking why she’s in New York with the rest of them.

After what feels like hours, they finally stop which is when, out of nowhere, a girl walking by yells, “Murderer!” and throws her drink at Sam.

Sam recoils and chaos erupts. There’s shouting and cursing, and a bunch of accusations thrown at Sam about God knows what, and I’m barely fast enough to rush forward and wrap my arms around her stomach from behind to prevent her from lunging at the girl who threw her drink at her.

Everything is over in a blur and before we know it the grill and her friends have left and the people who stopped and stood around to watch are moving on as though nothing happened.

I let go of Sam as soon as I’m sure she won’t do anything reckless again and step back, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Chad is also holding back Tara.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, but no one answers and Sam even looks away as though she’s ashamed of something.

“Let’s just go.” Tara sighs and turns to leave, grabbing Anika’s and Chad’s arm.

Mindy frowns but agrees and is quick to follow them, leaving Ethan behind with me and Sam, who is currently trying to wring out her shirt.

“Hey, I. . . I have tissues if you want tissues,” Ethan offers kindly, pulling some tissues out of his pocket and handing them to Sam.

She wordlessly takes them and Ethan awkwardly looks between the two of us for a moment, obviously not knowing what else to do before hurrying after the others.

What an odd kid.

Sam dabs at her neck and hair where most of the drink hit her and she’s about to brush past me to follow the others as well, but I step in front of her and gently touch her forearm.

“Wait.”

Defeated brown eyes find mine, and the way she deflates when looking at me breaks my heart.

I have no idea what that girl and her friends meant when they called her a murderer and when they said she “knows what she did”, but now’s not the time to ask about it.

I take the used tissues from Sam and momentarily stuff them into the back pocket of my jeans so I have my hands free to unzip and take off my hoodie.

“Here, take this.” I hold it out to Sam, who simply eyes it with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and put this on. I know how you hate it when clothes stick to you.” I wiggled the hoodie a little and raise an eyebrow until she sighs and takes it.

When we were kids I found out how she hates wearing wet clothes after pushing her into our pool after school once.

She wasn’t mad at first because it was summer and we both really needed to cool off, but then she got out of the water and her mood immediately turned sour.

She never explained why, but I knew it was because of her clothes clinging to her, so I never pushed her into the water again unless she was wearing a bikini or swimsuit.

“Thank you.” Sam’s small voice brings me back to reality and when I look up again I see she’s already changed into my hoodie. Her shirt is clutched between her fingers to the point where her knuckles are turning white, but I don’t comment on it.

She’s humiliated, sad, angry, and embarrassed, so all I say is, “You’re welcome,” before gesturing for her to lead the way and follow the others.

She lowers her chin in silent thanks again and starts walking, and I follow her after quickly darting over to one of the nearby trash cans and disposing of the tissues.

What a night. . . Maybe I should have stayed at Liam’s and watched some TV.

_______________________________________________

We’re in New York, people! And Ghostface is right around the corner. . .

Poor Sam, getting a drink thrown on her, but the way she clapped back at reader on their way to the party? Damn. . .

And Tara hasn’t even acknowledged reader yet hahah but it’s okay, they’ll talk in the next part.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[erwinsvow]

“rafe, i want a soda,” you tell your boyfriend from your comfortable seat, settled under your blanket waiting for the movie to start. rafe’s talking to kelce and topper about something quietly, adjusting his backwards cap and staring straight ahead—at people you recognize as the pogues he’s been terrorizing as of late. you rise from your position, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. kelce and topper stop talking, getting into their chairs when rafe turns to talk to you.

“yes, princess? what now?” 

you should be good—rafe always tell you to keep your nose out of his business stuff, especially when he’s making his rounds at a party trying to sell coke. you usually always comply anyways, not asking questions since the first time and not caring either, as long he swears he’s safe and not doing as much of the stuff as he used to—but this isn’t about his business. you can tell there’s something going on with those pogues and he’s planning something that you want to make him stop.

“movie’s starting. and i want a soda.” 

“kelce, give her your soda,” rafe says, turning back around to finish his conversation, when you interrupt. you shake your head at kelce, who holds the pepsi can in his hand, stopping right as he was about to toss it to you.

“it’s not diet, rafe,” you comment with a sweet smile, hoping you can distract him from whatever he’s trying to talk about with his boys.

“really kid? i think you’ll be fine-”

“please, rafe?” you interrupt again, pouting. he shouldn’t have given up so easily—but your pout is one of those things he can’t resist. 

“pain in my ass, kid, really.” you smile at rafe, thanking him while he grumbles. “you better sit tight and watch this stupid movie after this-”

“popcorn too! do you guys want anything?” you turn, asking kelce and topper.

“all good, thanks princess.” you crinkle your nose and turn back, not really liking it when anyone but rafe addresses you like that—it feels like a joke when they say it.

rafe comes back with your stuff, handing it to you with a roll of his eyes, but you notice he’s smiling when you thank him. you curl up next to him on the same chair, head on his chest trying to watch the movie. you notice he’ll turn to look at kelce and topper, and then the pogues sitting ahead of you. 

each time he starts looking, you try to distract him, bringing your straw or a piece of popcorn up to his mouth, and then he looks down at you instead, with a sweet smile and a kiss to the top of your head. 

you should have guessed it would only work for so long—the two pogue boys get up and the three boys with you rise instantly too. in a desperate attempt to keep him with you, you drop the soda onto the grass and call to your boyfriend before he gets too far.

“rafe, uhm, this spilled so i need a new one-”

“one minute, princess, i’ll be right back-”

“no, rafe, wait-” but he’s gone before you can say or do anything else.

you sit in the lawn chair, too distracted to focus on the movie, worried about what rafe is gonna do to them. it’s only a few minutes later that you hear screaming, and look up to see the entire projector screen aflame. you get up immediately, panicking at the horde of people trying to get away, when you take a step backwards and bump into something hard. you yelp, but familiar hands hold you hard and guide you out back to the parking lot, hands that can only belong to your boyfriend.

you don’t get a clear look at rafe until he parks at tannyhill—a pink and red lesion on his cheek that wasn’t there before. 

“rafe, your face-”

“kid, why d’you think i’m trying to take care of business with these pogues? huh?” you’re silent, not able to compose any kind of answer that would make sense. 

“i-i don’t-”

“exactly. you don’t know. these, these pogues? they’re fuckin’ crazy. they held a gun to top’s head. they set that fire, not carin’ who would get hurt.” he watches you stare at him with big eyes and parted lips, taking in everything he’s saying. he knows it’s a little manipulative, not giving you any context or telling you he caved in pope’s face with a nine-iron. you’re listening, and paying attention, finally. “let you get away with a lot of stuff, kid. don’t make me regret it.” 

like he doesn’t know why you make him go buy soda or try to distract him with a kiss at the beach or at the club. he brushes it aside because he likes to let you think you’re getting away with it.

“have you learned your lesson about interferin’?” you nod eagerly. “good girl. now c’mon.” he takes you upstairs to his bedroom and lets you apologize down on your knees.

“good fuckin’ girl-” is what comes out of rafe’s mouth when you settle infront of him, on your knees, hands unbuckling his belt. he repeats it, but it comes out as a grunt when you take him into your mouth, big, watery eyes staring up at him while you impale your throat with his thick cock. he wipes the tears away with his free hand, the other one gripping your hair while he slides your mouth up and down with his motions.

“that’s right, nothin’ to say now, huh? good girl, don’t worry, i’ll forgive you. you gonna meddle again? hm?” he pulls you off, your mouth letting go with a little pop sound. 

“no, no, never again-”

“good girl,” and he brings your mouth right back.

[fumiscripts]

✦ DRAW ME LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH GIRLS

✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader

✦ content:: you're an artist, michael is your muse. plot twist: you hate his guts, but he's still too pretty not to draw

crack/fluff, 936 words

additional:: reader and kaiser have confused feelings towards each other, very little swearing, reader threatens to draw kaiser pregnant, insulting and teasing as a love language, might be a little off character maybe, slight suggestive joke, this dialogue came to me in a vision

This is so unfair. Why did he have to be so insanely ethereal?

You hate Michael Kaiser. Everything about him ticks you off. From his egoistic personality to his cocky demeanor. You wanted to kick a ball to his unfortunately pretty face. The same face which you've been sketching in your book. Over and over again. You couldn't stop drawing him. It's becoming a problem for you, and him teasing you for it was not helping.

Well, in your mind, he didn't have the right to be drawn by you. Yeah, his hair frames his features perfectly, and each curve and slope of his face looks sculpted like some Greek statue, and his eyes are the most mesmerizing shade of blue— damn, you really loathe the way you think about him like this.

He doesn't even deserve each stroke and line that you put on paper. All that work could've been put into drawing something more interesting. Like a random apple. Anything but him.

You really disliked that he was your muse.

It was the nth time where you etched another portrait of the blond into your sketchbook. You've lost count of how many pieces you've drawn of him, at this point. Your eyes flicker between the paper and him, catching every detail and immortalizing it to paper, your other hand propped up on the table and holding your head. Kaiser, himself, was sitting on a seat across from you, reading another of those books you never bothered to learn the titles of.

He was staying still— much to your convenience— and, surprisingly, not being talkative, at the moment— also much to your convenience. You much prefer the peaceful quiet over the usual bantering that stems from him rilling you up with out-of-pocket remarks, and you retorting back despite being aware of this.

The while of being able to peacefully do your thing didn't last, like you hoped. Once he noticed what you were doing, he was back on your ass to be a mocking bitch about it.

“Drawing me again? How obsessed are you?” Kaiser mused, staring at where the lead of the pencil met paper. You stared at him, pausing with your sketch as you deadpan, internally planning how to hide the body within the lounge after you manifest a meteorite falling on him. You were definitely not looking at him for another reason. Gosh, he's so gorgeous, you can't stand breathing the same air as him.

You tear your gaze away, landing back on the textured parchment beneath your hand. “You're easy to draw,” you snarkily reply. And you mean that in an insulting way. “I bet I can sketch you with three lines— that's how plain you are,” you added, just to make sure he doesn't use some loophole and claim that you don't find it difficult because of memorizing every detail of his by heart.

This earned a sneer from Kaiser, who placed his head on his intertwined fingers in a display of boredom. “Wow, so cruel,” he trails off, making a show with obviously feigning hurt. The blond sighs for a cherry on top, before going on. “Aren't you supposed to be nice to your muse?” Kaiser taunted, grinning.

“Shut up, before I draw you pregnant,” you state, a weird threat, but it was effective enough to make him do a double take. Though, it also resulted in him looking at you as if there was something wrong with your brain chemistry— like you were some failed attempt at making an intelligent creature— so perhaps it wasn't that effective in terms of threatening him. Whatever. You weren't really serious about it… maybe.

Kaiser was quick to recover from that off-putting statement of yours. “You sure do have weird fantasies about me,” he remarked, leaning back on his chair like he did something amazing, because to him, he just said something worthy to be written down as a quote.

You looked at him with a straight, blank face. Unlike how you did while sketching intricate lines that detailed his face. All that non-expression just to prove a point that, no, you didn't fantasize about him. “You wish,” you turned that idea down.

Now that those azure eyes were on you, going back to drawing would be an awkward choice. So, you shift your full attention to him.

Only because he was entertaining. Not because you want him, or anything.

“Mhm, keep denying it,” he says, his tone a little cocky, like he believed you were really dreaming about him. Oh, how you'd love to wipe that smug look off his face. “You want me so bad.”

“Nuh uh,” you reply, before adding something in order to have more chances in one-upping him in this argument. “Are you sure it's not the other way around? You sure are persistent,” this led to him tilting his head, a bit amused as you continued. “Maybe you're the one who wants me.”

Kaiser chuckles, sighing softly. “Yeah, right. I'm not the one filling sketchbooks with drawings of the other,” he retorted, running a hand through his hair, like he always does whenever he has nothing to do. “What, you gonna draw me like one of your french girls next?” he joked, raising an eyebrow.

You stared at him as he jested, blinking once, twice, before cringing. “Hell, no,” you bluntly rejected. You knew what he meant, and you wished you weren't able to understand the reference— you regretted being able to comprehend words and sentences.

He laughed at your reaction, finding entertainment in it.

So you fished out your phone, searching up mpreg references.

(a/n):: I was giggling while writing this

taglist:: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku,

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 1

Source for pic

Trouble 1

Word Count: 3819

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Special Warning 2: I advise reading the introductory chapters first, as they give a sense of the story, introduce characters and locations and, this chapter starts off immediately after the Sanji chapter. Your first interaction with Zoro is in those chapters! If you don't want to read the other characters, I recommend reading, at least, Zoro's Chapter since it's their first interaction!

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I'm posting this but with some dread weighing on my chest, I'm afraid... I hope (and I'm crossing all my fingers and begging Lady Luck to be on my side) that I'm able to post one chapter per week. But if I fail this goal, please forgive me in advance... I do have the whole story planned, I just (sadly) don't have much energy to write it. Alas, I am too curious to see what you guys think of my grumpy green-haired cop. I hope you enjoy, let me know all about it, will you?

Masterlist | |Chapter 2|

Party at Luffy's on Saturday. Just the usual suspects. Meet at six and bring snacks! 

You stare at the screen of your phone, your teeth chewing absentmindedly on your lower lip. A party does sound fun. ‘The usual suspects’ means your classmates and friends, some of whom you haven't seen in forever and actually miss. 

“Son of a three-legged chicken! Goddammit!” And then there's Shanks, hurting himself and cursing like an old man because he refuses to get surgery. 

Should you leave him alone?

“Dad? Are you in one piece?” You scream into the living room as you fill your coffee mug. 

“Yes, Bug. I'm fine! I just stubbed my toe on the couch, it wasn't my back this time.”

With a heavy sigh, you take a long gulp of your drink and close your eyes when you scald your tongue, your fist pounding the countertop to stop a string of your own curses from leaving your lips. 

“Bug?”

“I'm fine, Dad!” Opening the cabinet to take a cookie from the tin to soothe your ache, you realise it's empty and release another sigh. Your father always had a sweet tooth, but you could swear that the tin was full to the brim yesterday! 

Since you need to buy snacks for the party, you'll use the trip to fill up the cabinets and fridge. “I'm going to the store, Dad. What do you need?”

And as Shanks lists rows of unhealthy things you're not really going to buy for him, you reminisce about the old school days when you and your friends used to hang out after school. 

Nami, Robin, Luffy, Zoro, Kaya, and Usopp, the usual suspects, as Nami said. Those were the good old days. But now that you are all grown up, will hanging with them feel the same? Or will you feel left out? 

Shaking your head as you gather your keys and purse, you realise that you're overthinking things. You've already spent time with Robin and Nami, and everything still feels the same. Reconnecting with Kaya at the clinic also felt familiar and heartwarming. You still haven't met Luffy and Usopp since you got back, but you can't stop a silly smile from forming on your lips when you think about your encounter with Zoro. 

When you were both younger, there was a time when you had the biggest crush on him. It happened almost right before you left your hometown. You were starting to feel rebellious from all the fights your parents were having, and Zoro had the ultimate ‘bad boy’ look. 

But then you left. 

And you didn't even decide to peek behind that door. And now? Well… now you are just off men in general. So you're hoping your first encounter will be the prelude to rolling back into an easy friendship full of banter and good times. 

-*-

You haven't been to this particular grocery store since you were a teenager, and it has evolved! What was a simple, small store with essentials is now a full-blown supermarket, and you have no idea where anything is. 

As you stumble blindly through the maze-like corridors, you sigh in relief. There, at the top of the shelf, lies the only thing missing from your list, the only sweets you're willing to bring to your Dad, his favourite cream-filled chocolate cookies. 

Just out of reach. 

You look around, feeling a little lost. Maybe you should ask for help, or locate a stool or something you can use for height. But as soon as you start to walk towards the aisle, a gentle tap on the shoulder startles you, and you shriek. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you. You look lost. Need help?”

A shaky smile curves your lips as you try to calm your racing heart. It's just a store clerk. His smile is cute, and clearly, he finds you cute too because he's smirking suggestively. 

“I just need the cookies on the top shelf. I can't reach them.” You smile politely, trying to show that you're not interested in flirting, but actually need his help. 

He walks with you until the end of the aisle and points at the box of cookies. “Those?” You nod with a smile, already anticipating leaving the store that gave you a small migraine. He lifts his arm, stops, lowers it again, and smiles at you. “Are they for you?”

Your brow quirks up, and your smile falters as you balance your heavy basket on the other arm. “No.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, crosses his arms, and you frown. “A boyfriend, perhaps?”

“They're for my father.” You say, slightly annoyed, and point at the cookies again. “Can you please help me?”

Raising his arms, he nods. “Sure thing.” And then he lowers his arms again, pulling a sigh from deep within you with the gesture. “Say… what did you say your name was?”

“I didn't.” You have half a mind to turn away and leave the store without the cookies, except they are the only indulgence you are allowing Shanks amidst an entire basket filled with healthy food. So you force another smile through gritted teeth. “Can you please help me with the cookies?”

The tips of his fingers brush the box, and you raise your hand, but he lowers his arm again, making you grunt in frustration. “You're drop-dead gorgeous. How about I give you the cookies and you give me your number?”

Seriously? 

It's not even clever flirting, it's just downright aggravating. 

“I think I'll–”

“Is this what you wanted, babe?” A gravelly voice interrupts your tirade as an arm raises above your head, retrieving the box of cookies and waving it in front of your face. 

You feel your cheeks heating up, but you force a smile to appear so you can play along. Zoro's wicked grin lets you know he came to your rescue. 

“Yes, baby, it is. Thank you so much.” 

The look on the clerk’s face is a mix of displeasure and disbelief, but he doesn't move from his spot, so Zoro laces his hand around your waist and pulls you closer, raising his brow at the employee's direction. 

He finally gets it and wishes you both a good day before leaving you alone. After he turns the corner, Zoro loses his grip on your waist, and you don't read too much into the way you miss his touch. 

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?” He teases and you laugh. 

“Always.” Taking the box of cookies from his hand, you nod. “Thanks for the help, that was getting awkward! The cookies are for my dad.”

Zoro smirks and crosses his arms, a six-pack dangling from his index finger. “Mr. S. still likes those cookies?” A snort leaves his lips. “Guess some things never change.”

You're about to agree with a shake of your shoulders when you bump into the shelf, making it rattle. A squeak leaves your lips when Zoro pulls you away from the shelf just as a tin of biscuits rolls off and crashes on the floor, right where you were. 

“Careful!” He admonishes you as you hiss and thank him. After a stern look, his face returns to an easygoing smirk, and he shakes his head. “Some things never change.”

“Hey! I resent that.” But he's right. You're a hazard. And that's why he's been calling you Troublemaker since you were both teens. “Are you shopping for Saturday too, officer?” You call him an officer, but he must be off duty since he's wearing jeans and a tee. 

He nods with a chuckle. “Nami said to bring booze. Usopp, Robin and Luffy won't drink.” He raises the beers. “These are for Nami and I'll bring real alcohol for myself. I'll be off duty.” Then his smile falters. “I'm not sure if you drink or not. We've been away from each other for so long.”

Your eyes leave his for a moment as guilt washes over you. It's your fault you fell apart from your friends. You left, you chose to stay away during the holidays, you were the one who abandoned them.

“Not too much.” You sound small as a resigned sigh shakes your shoulders. “Just socially…”

The silence that drags afterwards begins to stretch into awkwardness, until Zoro snorts. “Well, if you decide to be social around Luffy, you won't drink much, but if you stick with me, Trouble, you'll drink a lot!” 

His teasing makes you grin as you balance on the tips of your toes so you can be at eye level with him. “We'll see about that, officer.”

A low chuckle leaves his lips, and you giggle with him. Then he reaches out and takes your heavy basket from your hands. “You done shopping?” 

“Yes, but I can carry my own groceries.” You say as you start to follow him down the aisle. And then you trip over your feet and smack his back with your nose. Zoro stops, turns his head, and raises his eyebrow in a very ‘you were saying’ manner, and you flush beet red. “Fine! You can carry the groceries.”

But as he takes another step, you grab his arm, squeal internally at how well-defined his bicep muscle is, and turn him the other way. “It's this way, though. Smartypants.”

Zoro grumbles and purses his lips but follows you wordlessly. You're still rubbing your sore nose when you give him a teasing smirk and playfully stick out your tongue. “I might attract trouble, but you still can't tell left from right to save your life.”

“Hey!”

“How did you pass the ‘How to Be a Cop’ exam?”

“That's not a thing.”

“I'm sure your captain has to stick a GPS collar around your neck, or they never know where you are…”

You can practically feel him fuming beside you as you walk up to the cash register, and you feel your chest bubbling with laughter. 

“Keep it up, Trouble, and the next thing you'll bump into won't be as soft as me.” He snickers as he helps you unload your basket onto the register. 

“Aww!” You take out your phone and place it in front of his face. “Say you're soft again so I can record it. I'm sure Nami will love to tease you about it.”

His smirk turns into a grumpy pout in a mere second. “I didn't say I'm soft. I'm just trying to keep you alive so you don't end up as paperwork on my desk. I've got enough to do as is.” You laugh so hard that the cashier stares at you both. 

“Sure, big guy. You'd probably get lost on your way to find a pen just to fill it out.”

Zoro's about to retort when the cashier clears his throat, clearly done with his job and waiting for you to stop flirting and pay. You blush and settle the bill, then wait while Zoro pays for his booze. 

Once again, he carries the bags for you and, this time, you don't even protest, knowing how futile it will be. 

“Thanks, but you don't have to walk me to the car. I'm a big girl, you know?”

Zoro grabs your arm before you bump into the door, which takes a beat longer to open, and you clear your throat as he hums. “Yes, you are.”

You focus really hard and manage to avoid stepping on a puddle and bumping into a cart just to prove that you can handle it, but Zoro's snicker is still in place when you both reach your car. 

“So what's a girl gotta do to get some good coffee around here?” You tease as you load the groceries into the trunk of your car and close it. Then you kind of want to smack your face against it. You didn't mean to sound so forward, you just wanted to spend some more time with Zoro. It all felt so… natural. 

He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, there's a good spot just around the corner. You can't miss it.”

“Oh, is it the best?”

“Nah…” He sighs and curls his lip in contempt. “Swirly Brows has the best coffee. But it's on the other side of town.” Zoro leans against the car, and you open the door. Either he's not getting your hints, or he just doesn't want to have coffee with you. 

“You mean Sanji?” He grunts in agreement and you sense some story there. “I've met him. He's really nice! And the coffee is to die for.” You smile and Zoro stiffens a bit. 

“Yeah, he's nice to all girls.” He leaves it at that, and you don't pry. The conversation stalls, and you linger, but he still doesn't say anything. 

Oh, well. Maybe you were the only one having fun, and he just felt like he was babysitting an accident-prone big baby. 

“I guess I'll–”

“Want to get coffee, then?” He interrupts while placing his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh.” You smile. “Thought you'd never ask.”

You close the door, lock the car, then pace a little faster to keep up with Zoro's long strides. 

“You sure we're heading the right way?” He groans as an answer, and you giggle. “It better be good coffee.”

“Like I said, it's good, not the best. But you can ask for the best on Saturday, the Cook will be there too.” His voice is clipped, like he thinks you might show some interest in Sanji, and you can't help but feel a little warmth in your chest. Is he jealous? 

But then his mention of the gathering churns your stomach for a whole other reason, and you become quiet all of a sudden. Zoro silently switches sides with you, making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk as he takes the side closer to the road, and you sigh. 

“What's wrong?” Zoro's eyebrow quirks up and you realise he's splitting his attention between your surroundings and your expression. He's attentive to every car, every person, every sound, and motion. 

And he's doing it unwillingly. 

“I… I just… I'm nervous.” You finally admit with a resigned sound. 

“About what?” He grimaces. “The Cook?”

What? “No!” You let out an exasperated huff. “You guys stuck together all these years, and I left… I made no effort to connect with you, besides Nami and Robin, and you kept going with your lives. Now I just kind of fell back into your lives, and Nami is dragging me back into the group like I still belong.” You sigh without meeting his gaze and he places a hand on your arm to steer you away from a pothole you missed and would've tripped over if he hadn't seen it. “I feel like an outsider, that's all.”

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?” You stop dead in your tracks just to stare at his smug face. “I’m baring my heart to you, and that’s all you have to say?”

Zoro crosses his arms and stares at you deadpan. He was never one to mince words or to soften them to deliver lighter blows, and you always cherished that about him. His brutal honesty. 

“You’ve been gone for a while, it’s true, and maybe some of us don’t quite understand why you didn’t feel the need to stay connected… to reach out… but that was your decision.” There’s a hint of hurt in his voice, and you feel shame shadowing your thoughts again. He’s talking about himself. Running a hand through his short green hair, he exhales a deep breath. “But you’re still part of the crew. You’ll never be an outsider. And if you think Luffy will let you feel left out, you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”

A small smile curves your lips, and though you’re not fully convinced, you resume your slow walk. 

“I know… but still… it’s been so long, and–”

“Careful!” Zoro’s hand shoots up, and he stops you just as you were about to cross the road with a red sign. “Jesus Christ, you’re even worse than before. How the hell did you survive all these years? You should carry a neon sign with you since you’re a walking hazard.”

A flush burns your cheeks as you cross your arms and pout your lip. “I was going to stop!” You weren’t. “I didn’t need your help.” You did. “I can survive very well on my own!” Barely.

“Geez, Trouble…” He chuckles softly. “I might have to keep a permanent eye on you from now on. I was joking about you becoming paperwork on my desk, but it’s becoming frighteningly clear that it’s a very real possibility.”

The light turns green, and you both cross it, reaching the coffee shop where Zoro holds the door open for you. You choose a booth near the window and fidget with the napkin on the table before the waitress comes to take your orders. 

“Are you still thinking about not fitting in?” You grimace. “Stop that. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Geez, Zoro! You really know how to cheer a girl up.” You thank the waitress when she brings your coffee. Zoro shrugs and blows on his. 

“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m just stating the truth.” He points at your coffee. “It’s hot, don’t drink it yet.”

Every time he does something to keep you safe, your chest constricts, and your heart pounds harder. He’s not even doing it on purpose, so he must be this careful and protective with everyone. You shouldn’t be feeling special at all. 

Being distracted by your thoughts, you ignore his advice and take a sip, wincing immediately from burning your tongue.

“What did I tell you, Trouble? Will you ever listen to me?”

“Maybe if you stop being mean.” You mumble between your teeth, not believing your words because he’s not being mean. He’s just being Zoro. Straightforward, no-nonsense Zoro. Like he always was. 

Conversation flows easily between the two of you after that. There’s a long moment where you both reminisce about your childhood and the silly things you and your friends did as dumb teenagers. Then you ask Zoro about life as a cop and what the worst dangers he has to face in a small-time town like the one you live in are. After that, he asks you about life in the big city and what you studied, and the smile you had plastered on your face for the last hour suddenly falls as you’re reminded of your ex and how he broke your heart. 

“What’s wrong?” Then it must have dawned on him because he grimaces and adjusts his form in his seat. “Shit, I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. It’s just…” You shake your head. “It was still a four-year relationship. Though anyone could see the end coming, I just didn’t expect to be cheated on.”

You sip the rest of your coffee while Zoro stares at you. “His loss.”

“What?”

“His loss. If he couldn’t see the wonderful person you are, he’s the one who came out of the deal losing.”

You try to read whatever is in Zoro’s eye, but you can’t. He just seems very serious, so you have to assume that he is being serious. 

“We started out pretty strong, in college. But then, when we graduated and he took over a lot of his family’s business - not all of it legal, for sure - he became distant and cold.” Zoro’s brow rises as he listens to what you have to say. “Everywhere we went, he brought bodyguards with him. It became frightening to go out, I was always expecting conflict to arise.”

You set the coffee mug aside and start to fidget with the napkin again. 

“There were nights when, even though we went out together, he had so much to do that I spent more time talking to his bodyguard than to him. It hurt a bit to separate because it wasn’t on amicable terms, but it wasn’t devastating.” 

You shrug, and the napkin flies out of your hands with the gesture. You mumble a curse and bend down to pick it up, not taking into account the corner of the table when you get up, so you bump your head into–...

Zoro’s hand?

“Ouch!” You still rub your head, but when you lift your body, you see Zoro’s outstretched arm with his hand wrapped tightly around the corner of the table, a look of disbelief in his eyes. “Uh… thanks?”

He shakes his head and removes his hand silently. “Trouble magnet… you’re a hazard.” He sighs and finishes his coffee. “I’m sorry for what happened. It sucks.” He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, but then closes it.

“What were you going to say?”

“I’m being selfish. Forget it.”

“Zoro!” You press. He always says what’s on his mind, so why not now?

“I’m glad he cheated on you, there, I said it.” You blush and narrow your eyes at him, so he explains. “If he hadn’t, you might still be living in the city, and we wouldn’t be sharing memories over coffee right now.” He takes out some berries from his pocket to pay for the coffees and gets up. “Shall we?”

It’s clear he wants to end the conversation, so you nod and get up, both leaving the place in complete silence. It takes you another minute before you gather your voice. “I’m secretly glad too… even though it made me feel useless and unwanted for a while. I’m happy to be back.”

“You’re not useless.” He says as he pushes you aside before you bump into a street pole. “You’re trouble, that’s what you are.” He quips with a smirk, and you can’t help but chuckle back at him. 

The banter continues until you both reach your car, the sun starting to set on the horizon already. You open the car door but linger outside for another minute, Zoro’s company making you feel warm and happy.

Though you can’t shake a weird feeling, a prickling in your neck and  a slight shiver down your spine, since you left the coffee house. 

“See you around, Trouble.”

“Bye, Zoro. Thank you for the wonderful afternoon.” You get inside and close the door, leaving the window rolled down so you can wave at Zoro. He taps the hood of the car twice before shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Drive safely, please.” He says with exasperation. 

“I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

He groans, and you chuckle. 

“Bye, Zoro!”

“Bye, Troublemaker.”

And as you check the rearview mirror for the dwindling figure of Zoro, you can't stop warmth from spreading in your chest. Today felt light and easy. And you have a certain green-haired friend to thank for that.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks

|Chapter 2|

[stillness-in-green]

Not-Really Chapter Thoughts BNHA 424

You know, I really think there should be a point at which Deku rushing in with no plan and doing whatever he thinks feels right should become Heroic Malpractice.

Just me?

Because, like, Shouto had a plan. He spent the time between the two war arcs specifically developing a brand-new combat technique that he planned to use to shut down Dabi's combat advantage without killing him. He convinced his dad not to change the plan like Endeavor was hesitantly sounding him out about[1]; he went out and talked and asked questions, and even if they weren't the right words every single time, he did his best and he did it with intention. If Dabi proves to be dead, it won't be because of anything Shouto did to him; it'll be because Dabi himself chose to stand back up, take a warp gate across the country, pick a fight with the guy who doesn't have the power set to shut him down without unduly hurting him, and try to replicate an Ultimate Move specifically tailored for someone with a balanced power set Dabi doesn't have.[2]

And if Dabi lives, it's still going to be because Shouto booked it across the country and used that same technique to stop him again.

1: Dabi surely would have preferred to fight Endeavor from the start, and it probably would have been the more "just" choice if it had to be one or the other, but Shouto is the nominal focal character between the three of them, so, critiques of the broader Hero-side decisions aside, Shouto's arc has to come first. This is one of those places where you can clearly see how much the decision to let Endeavor survive where Horikoshi originally planned for him to die hurts the shape of the later story.

2: Obviously ultimately if Dabi dies, it's going to be because his family and Team Hero made repeated choices to ignore and neglect him, culminating in the entire family swearing to deal with Touya together only to passively accept a battle plan that involved splitting them all and letting the kid who knows Touya the least be the one to fight him. But like, in the context of that fight, Shouto isn't the reason Dabi takes all that hurt.

Uraraka may or may not have had much of a plan, but at least the words she said to Toga reflected that she had been seriously thinking about Toga in the here and now, what Toga's told her, what Toga needs. If Toga dies, it will be because Toga chose to give Uraraka an unsupervised blood transfusion with no intention of stopping it. (With the same general caveats as in Footnote 2.)

But Deku? From the very beginning, Deku has been valorized by the manga for how much he doesn't plan. All Might tells him specifically that it's a sign of greatness shown by future "top Heroes" that, in some crisis situation, their bodies moved before they could think. Bakugou's Rising chapter is defined by him reaching that same state.

Deku claimed he wanted to save Shigaraki; he's sad in the latest chapter that he couldn't save Tenko's[3] life. But did he ever have a real plan to do that? With all the quirks he had at his disposal - both his own and those who would be in the flying coffin with him, or classmates whose presence he could specifically request - did he think hard and come up with a technique that would let him stop Shigaraki without harming him? Did he try to connect with the Shigaraki right in front of him by citing to the future?

3: And I have nothing but scorn for Deku's insistence on that name when "Tenko" goes out very pointedly calling himself Shigaraki Tomura.

Well, no. Deku obstinately yelled at the phantasms in Shigaraki's mindscape that he had no plan whatsoever. The only plans we saw him carry out were ones handed to him by the OFA collective that involved "breaking" Shigaraki's psyche; the only plans he came up with himself involved more efficiently breaking Shigaraki's body.

Way back in Chapter 130, Nighteye harshly scolded Deku by saying that his way of thinking was arrogant. He said, "Go after him haphazardly and he'll slip through our fingers. You're not so special as to be able to save who you want, when you want. (...) This world is not so accommodating that you can act the Hero because you feel like it."

It felt like something that Deku should have taken to heart, a lesson to be learned and applied later, but I never much got the feeling that he did. Nothing he did in that moment, in that arc, or anywhere else in the series afterward indicates that he thought Nighteye was right. He just chose not to talk back, and the arc ended with Nighteye dead and no longer around to pose objections to Deku's mode of heroism.

But Nighteye was right. Three hundred chapters later, Shigaraki is dead because Deku could not be arsed to plan for how he could stop Shigaraki without killing him. Because he let Gran Fucking Torino give him the intellectual out that killing someone could be a means of saving them. Because he followed his gut instincts of prioritizing the phantom Crying Child that he always saw as more valid and real than the human being standing in front of him.

Because he haphazardly acted the Hero and let his body move without thinking.

And he wants to act sad about it now? I hope Nighteye materializes in his bedroom to sneer at him every night for the rest of his life.

--

Incidentally, fuck All Might, seriously. "Wow, Deku and Bakugou, you two are the greatest Heroes ever. Fuck me and everyone else who fought tooth and nail, arm and leg, eye and earjack, life and death, to contribute to the pile of damage that was necessary to kill and/or save Shigaraki and All For One. You two got the last blows in, so you're the only ones who get the credit for it in my eyes. Hero Society is definitely going to be different and better with you two around."

[cosmicbucky]

A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....

Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.

And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.

He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.

Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP

hi, lovely! 💫

first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!

second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.

i hope you enjoy!

matches

pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader

word count: 3974

warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!

please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic

a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 

You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 

Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 

You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 

You never knew. 

You never actually met him.

All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 

Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 

You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 

You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 

Until the day you finally met Bucky. 

It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 

You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 

It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 

You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 

All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 

By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 

A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 

Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 

"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 

"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 

His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 

"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 

"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."

You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."

"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 

"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.

"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 

"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.

"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."

You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 

So, you agreed. 

And that's how everything started. 

You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 

Only yourself. 

When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 

Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 

Except for when it came to Bucky. 

You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.

When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 

Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 

You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 

It was driving Bucky crazy.

From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 

He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 

Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 

He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 

The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 

He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.

You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 

With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 

Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 

You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 

A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 

“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 

You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 

“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 

You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 

“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 

“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 

You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 

“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ��Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”

“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 

“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 

“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”

“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 

“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”

“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 

“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 

“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”

“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 

“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 

“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 

“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 

“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 

“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 

"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 

You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 

He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.

"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 

You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 

He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 

"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 

"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 

"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 

"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 

"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 

"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 

"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 

"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 

"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 

"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 

"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 

You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 

He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 

"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 

"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 

"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 

"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 

"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 

"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 

You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 

Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 

You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 

He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.

Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.

So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  

You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 

He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 

"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.

"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 

You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 

"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 

And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 

You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.

[akiranzee]

Hi! Is there any chance you’d write a Muzan x wife!reader? The demon slayer corp found out about her and kidnap her to lure Muzan out. You can choose how the rest goes, whatever you want! Thank you so much if you do write it 😊

❦ • ° ` — \\ “DOING IT ALL FOR LOVE”

╰┈➤ PAIRINGS: muzan x y/n ╰┈➤ W/C: 2.3k+ ╰┈➤ CONTAINS: gore, blood, swearing, violence, death, killing, kidnapping, & muzan is 1,000 while reader is 25. ╰┈➤ A/N: this is prolly the gori-est i can last😭😭😭.

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------------Complete!------------

it was not long ago that you and muzan got married, following your human customs.

specifically, it was merely two weeks. and yet, word had already gotten out, despite the marriage held in the infinity castle.

soon, it reached the prying ears of the hashiras. and then, they came up with a “brilliant” plan.

“but.. isn’t this kind of evil..? i mean — we’re doing things just as demons do!” mitsuri exclaimed, in a desperate tone, begging everyone around her to get their minds on the right track.

“there’s no choice, kanroji.. i have to agree with shinazugawa-sama over here.” shinobu agreed with what the white-haired man stated just a mere while ago.

“but it’s too-!!”

“shut up, kanroji.” sanemi immediately cut her off. “i don’t fucking care if you all act like saints, if himejima or oyakata-sama disagrees.. i’m going to make sure that fucking demon suffers the same as us. hell, his wife won’t even be able to make up for all our losses.” through clenched teeth and fist, sanemi growled.

“we’ll just go through the first plan. leave his wife alone, and just use her to kill him. that’s better.” tengen, not in his usual cheery state, had a voice of solemn, a seriousness not everyone was used to seeing.

“you all... rengoku-sama won’t like this! his wife is innocent! why can’t we just—” misturi continued, and sanemi ended.

“fuck it! why are you even here!? you think we’d live longer if we won’t act!? you wanna lose everyone ‘round here like how you lost rengoku!?” sanemi lost it. he was by far gone insane, and everyone had witnessed it. but it was an insanity that was necessary in this world.

“hey.” obanai inserted himself. “me and kanroji will stay out of this.” he said, leaving the room with mitsuri willingly following.

“are you sure we would be able to execute the plan, shinazugawa-san? just the three of us?” shinobu asked, worry and concern was not apparent in her voice, even if that was a question of one.

“we’ll tough it out. those two are acting like pussies.” sanemi bitterly spat. everyone looked at each other in silence, all of them understood the weight and risk of what they were about to do.

silence. that was the best cure.

minutes passed, and two people entered the room once again. it was mitsuri and obanai.

“i’m sorry... obanai-san helped me understand... but can we all agree with one thing?” everyone looked at mitsuri with curiosity.

“that... we don’t.. hurt his wife, no matter what?” mitsuri hesitantly said, fearing that everyone would look at her in mockery.

everyone didn’t, only sanemi did. “hah! his wife may be human, but even considering marrying a demon just makes her all the more a traitor!” sanemi violently lashed back, just wondering what goes on in your mind, that made you marry a cruel being, even more the demon king.

“b-but what if she doesn’t know...!” mitsuri’s tone was soft, despite the desperation and need to lure her comrades out of the evil mindset.

“doesn’t know!? are you kidding me!? they literally married in the infinity castle!” sanemi’s veins started popping out of his forehead, causing obanai to move a step closer in between them.

“oh.. right..” mitsuri bit her bottom lip in humiliation, wanting the earth to simply swallow her whole.

“but.. what if she was just brainwashed?” mitsuri spoke again, this time, with sureness in her voice.

“...that could be a possibility.” shinobu agreed with her, then glanced at sanemi who seemed to think the same as her.

“...whatever it is, we’ll get to ask her.” it was a conclusion, for sanemi, and everyone.

“but.. even if she tries to fight back, can we still not hurt her...?” it would not take a fool to hear the desperation in mitsuri’s voice, all she perhaps ever wanted was her friends to get back on their right minds. to her, this was not so far as what demons do.

“look, can you just plant it in that pretty little head of yours that no matter what — kindness will do you no fucking good? you’d be a fool to believe she’s a saint to start with. she married a murderer. a monster. what else is there to pity on her? go on, show kindness and i’ll watch you get taken advantage of.” sanemi sauntered menacingly towards mitsuri, “don‘t come crying if your head gets cut off or whatever.” he says at last, before leaving the room.

obanai glanced at mitsuri and gently patted her back, he wanted to be angry at sanemi, but he knew where he came from. after all, to trust in this world means you are willing to be fooled.

~~~~~

“that’s... her?” tengen asked, bewildered would be the right word, mixed along with shocked.

“she looks... normal.” and by normal, obanai means average. they looked you up and down once more, everything about you just seemed so plain that even tengen wasn’t that interested.

“normal or not, she’s something that not your average girls can compare to.” sanemi said, in a sinister tone.

“so? do we carry it out now?” obanai suggested impatiently.

“no, not... yet.” sanemi stood up and sauntered towards the busy street, eyeing you from afar.

“let’s see if that demon comes.” sanemi crossed his arms in patience, his fellow hashiras tagging along in hiding while you walked.

and, for who knows how many minutes had passed, sanemi concluded that it was time to conduct it.

“uh... hello, may i ask where the famous dango store is? i heard it’s really good!” mitsuri walked towards you, asking in a friendly smile.

“oh... it is right around the corner, near the public bathroom.” you pointed towards wherever you knew it was, but mitsuri insisted,

“oh, um.. can you please come with me? i’m really afraid to go alone... i’ve heard lots of creepy stories there.” feigning with fear, the other hashiras would commend her for an act well done.

and sure enough, that act was enough to convince you. “oh, from woman to woman, i also don’t feel safe around there. come.” you started to walk towards the location, looking back once in a while to see if mitsuri was still following you.

as you arrived, it became a secluded spot. the once lively red light district, grew unusually quiet in a certain corner you are in.

“oh, hmm.. the dango seller isn’t here... where could he be?” you mused, looking behind his stall to check, but sure enough, no one was around.

“ahh.. it’s really a shame, also the fact that they have to sell dango in this secluded area..” mitsuri feigned disappointment, all the while you looked at her with genuineness.

“shall we return?” you asked. perhaps this woman amused you.

“yes, please!” but as soon as she did, the light went out of you.

~~~~~

“well, that wasn’t so hard!” tengen whistled successfully, his hands behind his head.

“i would have thought it would need us to exert force.” shinobu said with nonchalance, her empty gaze never fazing.

“see? this is where kindness gets you.” sanemi sauntered towards your unconscious self, his sentence referring to mitsuri, who was now drowning in guilt.

soon enough, when you showed no signs of waking up, all the other hashiras left, leaving sanemi and shinobu, the ones who are so desperate for revenge.

~~~~~

a cough has been knocked out of you, followed then by a series of them.

“finally awake.” sanemi stood up, and sauntered towards you, stopping only when you were inches away.

he knelt down to your poor height, “say.. how can we enter the infinity castle?” the sudden question caught you off guard.

“look.. i don’t know how you demon slayers found out, but i will warn you. once he finds all of us, it will be the end.” you warned, but to them, it sounded like a threat.

sanemi merely chuckled, with a crazed laughter. “oh? and by the time he finds us, you’ve already faded to oblivion!” you winced at the loud voice, booming in your eardrum.

“shinazugawa-san.. perhaps it would be best if you took a fresh air. i have always suspected once your veins appear, you are about to lose control.” shinobu said calmly again, perhaps something about that voice makes him irk, but still, he obeyed.

after sanemi had left the room that’s seemingly a tent, it was now shinobu’s turn to kneel down to your crouching height.

“such pure innocence.. yet you choose to be tainted by impurity. why?” she held your chin gently, as if to gaze on your face, and stare in your eyes.

“he is a demon, yes. but he is not a monster.” you gritted your teeth.

“but do you know all of his deeds?” shinobu tilted her head to the right.

“yes,” you bit your lip, “but he also has kindness within. however would i have loved him if he was full of evil?”

shinobu was confused, but as usual, it wouldn’t be visible in her face. “then where is it? the so-called kindness?”

“he wouldn’t be called a demon if he showed them.”

“then how can you say so?”

“because i have no bruises, no wounds, no nothing.”

“...not yet.”

“there is no yet. for he has already laid his finger on me, but it would not be filled with violence, but instead of warmth and gentleness.”

“that is kindness?”

“no, that is affection. his kindness lies from deep within. he has the power to wipe down the earth, but he did not, and will not, because he only wishes for one thing. and if he has his hands on that one thing, then he will be at peace, and every deed will end.”

shinobu paused for a moment, but continued, “for every affection and kindness he had shown you, every single person dies. do you not feel pity?”

but, you merely chuckled. “you ask that of a killer’s wife.”

shinobu squinted her eyes and sighed, “such pride you put in that shameful title. i am losing patience.”

“let me go, and he will not harm anyone here.”

shinobu’s gaze darkened, “there is no one here. it is merely you and I, and that man from before. why would you have thought we would have brought a ticking danger in our homes?”

“that is a good point. but will you let me go?”

“no. we will wait for your dear husband to come. after all, you are the bait.” shinobu then, left, whooshing the curtain of the tent with a cold breeze.

and as all three of you waited, along with the other hashiras that had arrived, night finally fell, and still, no signs of muzan.

but, as soon as midnight did fall, horror started to arise. in a swift motion, tengen, who had been guarding a few meters away, was knocked out.

next, then, came for mitsuri who did not miss to scream and alert everyone, then, next was obanai, who, in turn took a hit for mitsuri, and the wind was knocked out of him.

perhaps it was not only madness and fear, but the shrill horror and terror that muzan brought was overwhelming.

he sauntered towards the very tent you were in, not missing the chance to bash sanemi’s head on a nearby tree, and grip shinobu’s neck in the air.

but, instead of fear, you felt safe as soon as you saw him enter the tent, with shinobu in tow.

but, of course, you did not feel too happy that he would be willing to commit a massacre for you.

“...muzan, let her go and untie me, please?” you pleaded in a soft voice, one that would always lull muzan.

but, he gritted his teeth and gripped shinobu’s neck much tighter. “and why should i? when they have caused you pain!?” he was angry now.

he threw shinobu to the side, and was about to untie you, until sanemi and mitsuri were quick to their feet and slashed muzan.

but, unfortunately, it was merely his back and he had easily healed in less than a second. his crimson eyes glowed in the dark. it was as if a ravenous beast was starving, and is willing to tear and eat every single thing it sees.

his long nails lunged towards mitsuri, but sanemi sliced his wrist, in which — quickly regenerated and still reached for mitsuri’s throat, but also which she luckily dodged.

then, another series of slash and slices, in which he finally used 30% of his strength, slicing sanemi’s body diagonally, that blood rushed out from him, leaving him in the ground, in pain.

mitsuri watched in horror, her fellow hashira dying all because of hunger, and this too — was the cause of her death, her inability to act and think led to her own demise, and was slashed savagely by the throat, in which he so grotesquely ravaged.

but, just when muzan thought it had been over, sanemi lunged in action again. with... a few modifications of his body.

something — something. ignited in muzan, as if seeing someone so determined, despite the low chances — it just fuels his cruel desire to break that determined soul.

seeing sanemi — the scarred white-haired man that he slashed almost in half, now with steel bars in between his body, perhaps to keep it from splitting, his skin covering the gruesome bloodshed of his own, each end of the four steel bars plunged into his skin to keep it from opening. you almost felt like puking, had you looked longer.

seeing mitsuri, a death of a hashira did not waver sanemi though, even if deep inside, he truly cared. he lunged again at muzan, only for muzan to move twice faster than him, and slashed half his face only — in which that because sanemi managed to dodge in a mere second.

had he dodged in two seconds, it would be the end. you yelled, “muzan!! don’t hurt them, please? they didn’t hurt me!!” this was the first time muzan ever killed someone in front of you, also in a brutal way you’d never think was possible.

“they were about to!!” sanemi took your small banter with muzan as an advantage, and kept lunging, along with shinobu that finally stood with a broken right leg, and continuously attacked.

but, even so that muzan was outnumbered, he still managed to lunge both of them towards the darkness of the forest, and disappeared in the night.

he finally sauntered towards you, concern glimmered in your eyes as sweat dripped from your forehead to your chin, as you panted in the cold air.

he expected fear was instilled in your eyes, but no — it was merely the same eyes that had ever looked at him since the day you first met.

your eyes never showed anger, hatred, and especially, fear.

he caressed your cheek with his now calloused hand, in which you so lovingly nuzzled against, as he untied you.

“...let us return home, my dear.” he said with pure gentleness, one that no one had ever heard of. he softly placed a kiss on your forehead as he helped you stand, and walked towards the darkness of the forest.

perhaps, kindness is what saved desperate people in madness.

★ • ° ` — BONUS:

“but — muzan-” for the thirty-third time, you were cut off again.

“no buts. i am going if you are going. i am not letting you leave alone ever again, not after what happened a few weeks ago.” muzan simply crossed his arms stubbornly.

“but... i am fine, i swear. not only have i healed, but i have also put my guard up now!! really, really high.” you tried to convince him, but again, to no avail.

“you are too kind to put your guard up high. i just know the same thing would happen again, if they used different tactics. and that is why i am going with you.” you simply sighed as he started walking, leaving you standing there until you finally followed along.

your hands reached and intertwined with his, as he tightly gripped your hand, with of course, such care before continuing, “from now on, i will not lose sight of you. and no, that is not a request.”

firmly, you finally sighed in defeat and nodded.

perhaps, unkind and kind people could be together.

───────────── ☆ ─────────────

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[ghostofwriting]

Kildare Split Part Three: Bleach

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Chapter 3: Bleach

Note: Hi! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. Here is Chapter Three, it covers the smau basically up until Rafe blocks Topper. Still no answers on that 💋

Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio.

Word Count: 5,343

Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.

Chapter Three: Bleach

That didn’t go how he planned it. He hurt her inconceivable amounts and it’s not going to be easy to get her to forgive him. He needs to work for it, he knows that. Hearing her say that she meant nothing to him when she meant the world to him hurts more than he could have ever imagined. He’s so mad at himself for ever saying those same things to her. He doesn’t deserve her. He knows that too. He’s always been selfish when it comes to her though, he needs her back. He needs to figure out how to talk to her first. 

“Let me get this straight, you told her to listen to your album for what?”

“To understand what I’m feeling.”

“Rafe, the girl doesn’t need to understand what you’re feeling, she needs you to apologize to her.” His dad’s voice comes through the speaker. He was getting ready for bed when Ward called.

“The album is like an apology.” He tells his dad like it’s obvious. 

“Unless you have a song in that thing that says ‘Y/N I’m sorry,’ for 3 minutes straight, she’s not going to hear it as an apology. She’s going to take it as an excuse.”

“I’m just so ashamed, I don’t know how to approach it.” he stares at the phone screen, a picture of his dad and Wheezie stares back at him.

“I miss you, dad.”

“I miss you too, son. You’ll be home soon and we’ll go golfing, how about that?” Rafe smiles softly. 

His relationship with his dad hasn't always been this good. When he chose music over a ‘real’ career, his dad almost disowned him. Y/N had been the one to talk Ward out of it. Giving him a plan that if they didn’t make it in two years, she would drag him back by his ear and make him take over the company. They had to work their asses off but it happened, and Ward had accepted it. It had been a long road, they spent a lot of time not speaking to each other, communicating through Sarah. Ward hadn’t been to a single show before their first album was released. He remembers seeing Ward walk in next to Sarah and feeling his five-year-old self again, prepared to put on the best show for his dad to finally be proud of him. And he was, at the end of the night he hugged Rafe and told him everything he had ever wanted to hear from him. That he was proud of everything he had accomplished, that he was meant to perform, and that he loved him. 

And he owed it all to her. It always goes back to her. 

“That sounds great, Dad.”

“Have you talked to Sofia about this, you know girls, she might have some insight you don’t.”

“I don’t think Sofia’s up to giving me advice about Y/N.

“Rafe, this is only to get her back as your friend, correct? You and Sof are good?” Ward asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah, of course. Sof and I are great.” Denial. Always in denial, Rafe Cameron.

“Okay well, I wish you luck with all of that. Get some rest. I’ll be out in a couple of weeks.”

“Bye Dad, love you,” Ward tells him he loves him too and hangs up. 

+++

Kiara of all people tells her to listen to his album. As if everyone else who’s telling her isn’t enough.

“Hold on, I thought I got you in the divorce?” Kie laughs at her joke. 

“You did, but I think you should listen to what he has to say.”

“Kie, he hasn’t even apologized in person, why should I?” She’s playing with the thread that’s hanging off of the comforter. 

“Because he’s always been better at explaining himself in song.” She says matter of factly.

“This is unbelievable.” Kie groans on the other side of the phone.

“Look, he’s a piece of shit and he was horrible to you. I know that, but god can he write.”

“I know he can. I work with him.” 

“Y/N.”

“Kie.” She mocks 

“Just listen.” She’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes, glad that Kie can’t see her. 

“Okay, whatever, I don't want to talk about this anymore. What happened between you and jayj?”

“Ha! Nope.” She whines, wanting to know the drama between her two friends.

Sarah walks in with Penny in her arms. They had gone for a walk, Y/N citing vocal rest to skip going out in the rain.

“Vocal rest but you’re talking on the phone?” Sarah calls her out.

“My baby!” Sarah drops the small dog on the hotel bed, Penny running into Y/N’s arms.

“Thanks, Sarah.” She pouts at her. 

“So what are we talking about?”

“Trying to get Y/N to listen to ‘Angel.’” Kie’s voice cuts through the speaker.

“Absolutely no use. She won’t.” Sarah says. She nods along agreeing with Sarah. 

It’s not that she can’t listen to the album. She doesn’t want to. Why should she care about whatever he said in the album when he can’t tell her directly? The last time they talked he didn’t say sorry, albeit she didn’t let him say sorry with her whole speech she had been internalizing for three years. Even still, if he had just opened with ‘sorry’ she might have been more inclined to listen to his stupid album. She already knew it was about her, what more could she possibly learn?

So why can’t she get the thought of listening to it out of her head? She’s alone now, her dog next to her, sleeping tucked between her pillow and her neck. Sarah went back to her room a few hours ago and Y/N’s been trying to go to sleep to no avail. 

So she plays the stupid album that she told Rafe to shove up his ass. 

By the end of the album, she’s angry again. It’s great. Of course, it is. It’s him and he’s amazingly talented. Everything he touches turns to gold and she despises him for it. The chord progressions the tempos, the synths. Everything is amazing. Even the stupid lyrics that she wishes she could hate. How dare he be so talented and make her hate him just a fraction less?

The lyrics bother her. ‘I bought a house to live in but you’re the home I’m missin'?’ His fault. ‘I watched the weeks fly by, I’m not myself when you’re not there.’ His fault. Again. ‘I’m not a sentimental guy, I need you in my life.’ Well Rafe Cameron, why do you think she’s not in your life? It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that he completely obliterated her heart and is pretending that she just walked out on him.

Fuck you, Rafe. You don’t get to pretend.

+++

She hears Topper in the lobby of the hotel. He’s most likely the first one down here, waiting for the rest of them to wake up so they can take the car to the arena. 

She stands off to the side, their manager Ash, handing out their backstage badges. She sees Topper take two from Ash out of the corner of her eye. 

He extends the badge out to her for her to take and offers her a smile. 

“Thanks.” She tells him. 

“I know this is probably a long time coming and not the best place to have this conversation but I’m sorry.” She looks at him eyes wide, she tries to hide her shock, a small frown still visible on her face.

“Thanks.” She says again, not knowing how to respond to him. 

“I know I’ve been a shitty friend. I didn’t know how to act when everything went down. I knew about Sofia and I felt like I betrayed you. You were so hurt and I didn’t deserve your friendship. I let you isolate yourself and I’m sorry. I should have done better.”

She feels her eyes welling up. She won’t let herself cry. Not where anyone could see them.

“Yeah, you have been shitty.”

“Is it too late for you to forgive me?” She shakes her head, launching herself into his arms. Strangely it feels like coming home. She is finally hugging her best friend again. The guy who used to want to fight anyone who even looked at her wrong. 

“I missed you.” she breathes into his shoulder. 

“I missed you too, I’m sorry.” She lets go of him sniffling. She sees unshed tears in his eyes too. 

“It’s going to take some time for me to trust you, but I’ll work on it.”

“I will get on my knees, beg, and cry if you need me to.” She laughs

“I’ll let you know.”

As soon as the other two arrive, their badges are given to them and they all walk towards the car. She usually opts for sitting in the front ever since everything happened between them. She thinks that this time she can sit next to Topper. 

“Hey, Ash?” She calls for her manager's attention, “Mind if you sit in the front this time?” Ash looks at her surprised but nods her head anyway. 

“Of course, go.” She motions for Y/N to step into the car, Rafe and Barry look at her questioningly from the very back. She smiles at Topper and sits directly next to him, he offers her one of his airpods and she takes it. He’s listening to something she’s never heard and she doesn’t mind at all. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel like the loneliest person in the car. 

Rafe burns holes into the backs of both their heads. What the fuck is going on?

+++

“So are you going down there for your anniversary?” He hears Sarah ask. She and Y/N are getting their lunch. 

“Ya, it works out perfectly with the tour ending just in time,” Y/N responds, 

“So are you expecting a ring?” His ears perk up at the question, willing everyone around him to shut up so he can hear her answer clearly. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Y/N has a teasing tone to her voice and he feels like throwing up. He gets up from the table where he’s eating with Barry and Topper. His fork clanged against the plate as he stood up and stormed off. He can’t eat with the bile already rising in his throat. What’s wrong with him?

+++

He notices as Topper and Y/N fool around during their private soundcheck. They’re playing off each other, Y/N messing with his guitar as he sings into her microphone. He notices that it’s a little awkward but it’s better than it has been in years. He gives Barry another questioning look and Barry just shrugs. He makes a note to ask Topper what happened. 

“I can’t hear myself in my left ear, I just hear Barry’s excessive screeching,” Y/N speaks into her microphone at one of the sound techs. 

“Oh, I’m sorry we can’t all be professionally trained singers, princess.” Y/N scoffs. 

“You’re in a band Barry, maybe learn how to sing.”

“Why are you being such a bitch right now?”

“Hey!” Topper yells turning towards Barry, “cut that shit out.” Barry makes a face at Topper but drops it. 

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Rafe asks, done with waiting to ask Topper after soundcheck. 

“Just have her back, man.”

“Since when?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Since he apologized, maybe you should learn how to do that.” She purses her lips and instead of being annoyed, he can’t stop thinking about how cute she looks.

“I tried to apologize and all you did was yell at me for 10 minutes.”

“You didn’t try to apologize, Rafe! You tried to get me to listen to your album.”

“If you would have just heard me out.”

“What? I would know that you’re so apathetic it’s pathetic but you need me now? Or how about that you’re down on your hands and knees Beggin' me please, baby.”

“You listened.” He feels a sense of relief overtake him which is quickly washed away by her tone.

“Under duress.”

“What did you think?”

“I think it’s bold to sing songs about me when your girlfriend is ready to marry you.” He wants to deny that any of the songs are about her. It doesn’t work like that. Everyone knows. Instead of denying it or calling her conceited for thinking it’s about her, another question rises up and out of his mouth before he can stop it.

“Are you?”

“What?” She asks, confused. He wants to keep his mouth shut. Why does he need to know anything, why does he want to hurt his feelings so badly?

“Ready to marry him?” Oh, he’s so stupid.

“Yeah.” There is no hesitation in her answer and his heart breaks a little.

“Great.” He says shortly.

“Great.” She turns away from him and back to her microphone, talking to the tech until he gets the volume in her left ear right. He storms off the stage shoving his guitar into Topper’s chest, narrowly missing Topper’s guitar. 

+++

“What’s your problem?” They’re waiting to be called to the stage for their second soundcheck with the fans. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have been insufferable all day, more than usual. I can usually ignore you, I’ve been doing it for a really long time but you’re all pouting and grumbling. What’s wrong with you?”

“How could you forgive Topper and not me?”

“I haven’t forgiven Topper, but he apologized for everything, it’s more than you have ever done.”

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out.

“Rafe. Stop.” She goes to walk away but he grabs her arm, stopping her. 

“What? You beg me to apologize and now you don’t want to hear it?”

“I didn’t want to beg you for it, I wanted you to apologize because it’s the right thing to do.”

“I know that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I’ve been so absent from our friendship. I let people get in the way of us and I self-sabotaged and pushed you away.”

“Rafe please.”

“I think that I pushed you away because I couldn’t be with you but I couldn’t be your friend.”

She holds her breath, waiting for what he says next. 

“I couldn’t be just your friend because I was in love with you.”

“And I’m stupid okay? I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world for saying the things that I said to you.” He pauses to gauge her reaction. She’s looking directly at him, her gaze not faltering.

“You were never just someone I fucked. You weren’t some girl or someone who didn’t mean anything to me. You are the girl, you mean everything to me. You always have. And I am sorry. I am so sorry that I ever said those things.”

“Why did you?”

“I was terrified. It’s an excuse I know. The way I treated you should have never happened but- I just- I was so scared to ruin our careers and take away what we had been working for since we were practically babies. The work that you put into the band and I was just being so careless with it, I could have ruined everything. I didn’t know how to deal with that and being in love with you and high all the time. I couldn’t do it.”

“You got clean right after.” 

“I knew that sabotaging us was the first step to me ruining everything else and I needed to make the sacrifice worth it so I got clean.”

“I’m a sacrifice. You sacrificed our friendship to keep the band but if you had just talked to me we could have decided together. We could have made something work.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” They hear the five-minute to curtain call announcement and Y/N sighs.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” He asks her, hopeful.

“I don’t know. You hurt me more than anyone ever has.” She shrugs.

“fuck, b- Y/N I’m so sorry. You have to believe me.” She nods.

“I think I do. I need time. I need to get used to the idea of letting you back into my life before I do.”

“Okay, yeah. What can I do?” He feels hopeful for the first time since he started trying to get her to talk to him. 

“Just give me space for now. I’ll let you know.” She walks past him towards Topper. That’s a good start, he thinks. 

+++

“Baby!” She yells as she gets off stage, running into Julio’s arms. His flight had been delayed so she didn’t get to see him before the show. 

His arms wrap around her waist as he lifts her off the ground, spinning her around. 

“When did you get here?” She asks him, kissing his lips before he answers. 

“Just as you started the second song.” He pulls away to answer but buries his head in her neck, kissing her. 

“Thank you for coming. I missed you so much.” She tells him, still not letting go. 

“Always.” He pecks her lips again as the rest of the band comes up behind her. 

“Hey, guys.” Julio greets them the best he can with a Y/N-sized necklace still hanging off him. 

“Hey, man!” Topper taps him on the shoulder as he passes by him. Barry mumbles a ‘hey’ and Rafe just nods, his jaw tight. 

+++

Julio had only been here for one night and already he knew everything that Rafe had told Y/N, Which is how he found himself sitting alone with the man in the green room.

“Y/N told me what you told her last night.” He really doesn’t want to have to explain to Y/N why her boyfriend is on the floor bleeding but if he throws the first punch, Rafe is only defending himself. 

“Yeah?” He looks up from his phone and at Julio.

“Look, you hurt her. A lot. To the point where she thought she had no one because of you. She cried herself to sleep every day because of how alone she felt.” Rafe’s stomach churns at his words.

“I’m going to make it up to her.” He puts his phone down next to him. 

“And you better mean it. Don’t lead her on. Be honest with her. Do not hurt her again.” 

“I won’t.” He assures him.

“Good.” He thinks the conversation is over but Julio speaks up again.

“Rafe, I know how you feel about her. You need to back off. I love her. And she loves me. I will be here until she no longer wants me. Please don’t get in the way of that.”

“I’m engaged.”

“That doesn’t change the way you look at her. Your heart isn’t in it. Respect my relationship and I will respect you.” 

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I just want my friend back.” It’s not like she would take him back anyway. Even if he wanted to.

“Okay.” Cleo and Pope walk in to save him from the awkward silence. 

“I’m going to head out.” He picks up his phone and stands up from where he was sitting on the couch.

“Nice talking to you,” Julio calls.

“Yeah, you too.” He all but runs out of the room on a mission to find Sarah.

+++

Sarah Cameron is not one to spread rumours. She’s very much the type to wait for confirmation. She blames the circumstances and constant stress she’s under juggling her brother’s stupid feelings with Y/N’s and vice versa. 

There has been way too much talk about marriage, Sofia finally arrived and all she can talk about is wedding dresses and the caterer and the first dance and Sarah is exhausted. And of course, Rafe is panicking about things he really shouldn’t be worried about like ‘Oh is Y/N getting married? Sarah, she said that she was ready.’ and Y/N herself teased that she wanted the ring and she wouldn’t say no if Julio proposed. So what is Sarah supposed to think when she hears Y/N squeal from her dressing room as she screams “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you.” Sarah is tired. 

She should have known there wasn’t an actual proposal when it happened in the dressing room of all places. She knows Julio, he’s a romantic guy, thinking back on it, there’s no way he would have proposed like that. Again, Sarah’s tired and she’s not thinking and she needs to tell someone and the first person she sees. Barry. Bad idea. 

“Julio just proposed to Y/N and she said yes.” The information spills out of her mouth, it takes Barry a moment to process what she said but once he gets it he’s laughing. 

“Shit. That’s going to kill him.” Fuck. Rafe. She hadn’t even thought of her brother’s reaction. She wants to be the one to tell him but he’s out with his trainer. She has to make sure no one tells him before she does. 

“Topper!” She runs down the hall towards him.

“What’s up, why are you like sweating?” She waves him off.

“When does Rafe get back?”

“An hour still.”

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Y/N just got engaged and I need to be the one to break the news to him.” 

“Holy shit. Good for her. Where is she?” Sarah shakes her head at him. 

“That’s not the point, I need you to find out where Rafe is training so I can find him.”

“He’s probably running laps outside or at a nearby park.”

“Do you have his location?” 

“No, security list.”

“Oh my god! I hate that you’re all famous sometimes.” She says through gritted teeth. 

“I need to find John B. Make sure Rafe doesn’t find out!” She says running off down the hall again. 

“Find out what?” Sofia’s voice comes from behind him. 

“Jesus, Sofia, be louder next time.”

“Sorry. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. Y/N just got engaged and Sarah doesn’t want anyone to know yet.’

“Fun! Congratulations to them, that’s so exciting!” He sees her pull out her phone and walk in the direction of the busses.

“See you, Top!”

“On the bus?” He asks her. 

“Yeah.” She gives him a toothy grin. 

Shit. Topper thinks. She’s going to tell Rafe. 

+++

Kyle had just made him run way too much. Keeping up his stamina was important to perform every night. This time though Kyle really wanted to kill him. 

“You hate me, man.” He says opening up his phone. Kyle laughs. 

“You did great.” He tells him as they start their walk back to the arena. 

He has a few notifications from Instagram from friends back home sending him reels and Wheezie tagging him in stories. He swipes out of Instagram and goes on to his Twitter quickly checking to see if the lineup for the show had started already, trying to see which way they took back to the arena without being seen. 

Something catches his eye as he scrolls past it, he scrolls back up trying to find the pink icon. 

‘@KSUpdates: 💍💍💍’ He reads through the other tweets wondering what that’s all about, were they promoting something he forgot about? He keeps scrolling until he sees someone say that Y/N’s engaged. He stops where he is, Kyle looking at him questioningly. 

“You okay?” His head is spinning, his heart is racing faster than when he was working out, and he feels like throwing up. No, he’s not okay. 

“I need to go.” He starts booking it to the arena, Kyle trailing behind him. 

He has three unanswered texts from Sarah, a call from Topper, and one from Kelce by the time he makes it back to the arena. He says bye to Kyle and rushes to the bathroom. He’s going to throw up, he feels lightheaded. 

He didn’t realize how not okay he was with losing her forever right until this moment. He couldn’t face it for the longest time. He loves Sofia. He does. She has been important to him, his growth, and his life, she’s been an amazing partner. But that’s all she’s been. A friend. Because he couldn’t give her his heart. Not when Y/N was out there already walking around with it. She had never given it back. She owned it, owned him. He knew that now. With every fibre in his being, he knew that he was still in love with her. And she was marrying someone else. He was losing her. 

His breathing feels laboured. He feels the room continue spinning, he slides down the bathroom wall trying to keep the panic attack at bay. How could he be so stupid? How could it take him so long to realize that he couldn’t live without her no matter how hard he tried? It would always be her. 

He hears his phone ringing again but ignores it. He needs to get his breathing under control before he can talk to anyone. They can’t know he’s losing it. 

He needs to do something. He needs to get his shit under control and talk to Y/N. He hasn’t had a panic attack in so long. He’s not used to dealing with it. He needs to find Barry first. 

+++

She’s in one of her moods again, every time Julio leaves she gets sad and it takes her a day or two to get back into the swing of things. It’s been a week since she had asked Rafe for space. She thinks that she’ll be able to work towards forgiving him or at least putting the past behind her. After talking to Cleo, Sarah, and Julio, they had all given her the same advice. Do what she believes is the best next step for her. 

She notices Sarah hovering over Rafe like a mother hen, checking in on him, asking him if he’s okay every two seconds. She doesn’t know what happened but Topper had told her he went missing for the entire day until their show. And she’s pretty sure he showed up high. She’s scared for him. He’s been clean for so long that getting into drugs again now could shock his system. He’s not her responsibility anymore but she cares if he lives or dies. 

That same day that Rafe went missing, everyone was congratulating her for being engaged. The updates account had hinted at her being engaged too, she doesn’t know where they got that information, she not only had to tweet, she had to tell the entire team that no, she was not engaged. 

It had been a stupid misunderstanding that Sarah had apologized for a significant amount. Cleo had asked Julio how he would propose so Julio had set the scene for her and gotten down on one knee and Y/N had played along. Stupid and dumb. 

She’s reading a contract for a new magazine shoot she’s doing when Rafe comes up to her. 

“Hey.” He seems anxious. He can’t seem to stand still and his hair’s a mess.

“Hi, you good?” She asks him. 

“No.” She gives him her full attention now. Wondering what he’s about to say to her. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m selfish.” She doesn’t like the tone he says it in. Like he knows he’s about to tell her something he shouldn’t.

“Whatever you’re about to say don’t.” She goes back to her contract, staring at it blankly.

“When I thought you were engaged-”

“Rafe. Enough.”

“I had never felt so heartbroken in my life.” She’s shaking her head at him, trying to get him to stop.

“And I thought, I have to stop this now. I have to do whatever I can to stop it before it goes too far and I have to ruin your wedding. Because I would. Because I’m selfish.” She doesn’t know what to say to that so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

“It’s too late.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” There’s desperation in his voice, his eyes glassy.

“You’re engaged!” She yells, getting up and in his face.

“No, I love you.”

“I love Julio.”

“I love you.”

“Stop!” She turns her back to him and tries to find her breath.

“None of that changes how I feel. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to figure myself out.” She feels him behind her, looming over her shoulder.

“Why are you telling me any of this?”

“I can’t lose you. And that’s what’s happening because I’m an idiot. But I can’t lose you and I’m going to fight for you.” She turns around to face him, taking a step back, creating distance between them.

“There’s no fighting for me. We’re done. We’ve been over for so long. For three years I only spoke to you on stage or in interviews! There’s no us.”

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

“Rafe.” Her voice is firm but he doesn’t care.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone and you won’t ever have to see me again.”

“Not possible. The band.” She doesn’t know why she needs to make sure the band is safe in this moment, so much has happened between them to keep it alive, it can’t be at risk now.

“Outside of that then. Tell me.” She stays quiet, shaking her head once more.

“Please.” She snaps.

“I was in love with you for years! Since I was 13 years old you have lit up my goddamn world and when you finally gave me that chance, when you started looking at me like we could be something you ripped it all away. You hurt me so much and now? Now is when you want to come back and tell me everything I’ve been hoping for for years. Now when you’re getting married and I’m in a happy relationship?” She finishes, her chest heaving anger leaving her body in droves.

“You’re not in a happy relationship.”

“Rafe.” Her tone is warning him to not continue.

“Come on!  He doesn’t understand you the way I do! Doesn’t understand the life we live, and the sacrifices we have made to be where we are. He’s not good enough for you.”

“And you are?” 

“No.” She throws her hands up, “but, I understand you. I know who you are at your core, baby.” 

“Stop.” She’s sure she’s shooting daggers at him now.

“Why?”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“No, why are you with him?” He’s close to her again, she can feel his breath hitting her face.

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“Because I love him!” Rafe’s face falls. She exhales. “I love him.”

“No, you don’t.” She stays quiet. 

“You can’t.” He backs up a little, his head shaking, eyes sad.

“Rafe,” she says softly, stepping closer to him. She reaches out but pulls her arm away quickly.

“It’s too late.” She repeats her words from earlier.

“But I love you.” She doesn’t want to hurt him but she knows she has to put an end to this.

“I don’t love you.”

“I’m so stupid. Oh my god, how did I ever let you go? I’m an idiot th-“ she cuts him off putting a hand on his arm.

“Hey hey, stop. It’s okay. We’ll get through this.”

“How?” Tears are threatening to spill over now. His eyes are red. She doesn’t know if it’s from holding back tears or from smoking.

“By being friends.” His blue eyes pierce into hers.

“I’ll try.”

“Okay.” There are a lot of things left unsaid between them. She hugs him for the first time in years and he puts his face in the crook of her neck. She feels him crying. His tears soaking her neck.

“I love you.” She does too. Not in the way that he wants. Not anymore.

“I know.”

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 51

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You know It's going to take you some time to recuperate, your body looks rougher then you expected. To be fair as a god you never really had the chance to be hurt so you are hardly an expert. Still you are definitely going to speed up the recovery as much as you can without it being suspicious.

Mindlessly as Mother Spore you bring Boogeyman to his lab and after a few words leave...you pretty much do the same as Poultryman with the vigilantes, Flame is apprehensive about what happened at forst but you assure him everything is alright and he accepts it easily enough...still not completely though.

As soon as they are out of sight you remove those vessels, you doubt you are going to have use for them for a while... You aren't even going to be able to go out as Poultryman for a while either since the other heroes are extra on edge now.

...

After that it becomes mostly a waiting game, you'd think being alive for all of the universe's history would make it not that annoying but you would be wrong. It's horrible, pure torture. You can't even do anything about it-

And then you remember, you're a literal god, there is so much you can do... And what you want to do right now is get a little revenge. If there is one thing you can do very well is making mortal lives worse after all.

Pharaoh you end up not doing anything to in the end, he was the one you were the least annoyed with since he didn't even kill Hotguy on purpose. It's not like you planned on not doing anything to him but more that you focused on the other two and by the time you even remembered he existed too much time had passed and you didn't care about him enough to bother.

Xonorth on the other hand killed Hotguy the first time around, you can still pretty clearly remember the black goopy tendril going into his chest and put the other side.

Still, he didn't kill him the rest of the times so you are... merciful, just a bit of mostly harmless fun. Like going after his men and sabotaging a few of his dealings or writing a love letter with his signature on it and giving it to some Joey guy... That's going to be so deliciously akward.

As for Quackity...youu thought about killing him and getting rid of the problem for good, you truly did...but Pearl's words resonated and made you change your mind. After all, she's right, there are many different... More fun ways to deal with problems. And if It's not as fun you can just kill him.

You start easy: A cold and bitter tea,bland food, an alarm clock that's way too loud, a warm pillow, a door that just won't close no matter what he does, air thats just warm enough to make him sweat with a jacket on but cold enough that he's kind of cold without it... You even move all the things in his office by a few centimeters and learn so many new swear words from him stubbing his toe. Oh oh, you think about it last second, you make his office chair just likely shorter, that is going to drive him insane. Truly, this is the best use of your godly powers.

The second day you decide to bring it a notch higher...

"Quackity from Las Nevadas?"

"Slime? What's wrong?"

"The printer isn't working."

"Huh? Let me look"

"..."

"It's just out of ink, do we still have some spares?"

They don't, you took them all and dropped them in the hands of three random teens.

"Nope! Should I go buy them Quackity from Las Nevadas?"

"No, have Fundy do it, we pay for a reason."

And so he does and you follow closely behind knowing well how this is going to go down.

...

"What do you mean there's too much ink???"

"Quackity? I could suck the ink out?"

"And now It's not enough?? Did Fundy but more?"

"Nope! Just this one!"

"... Great"

...

"Stupid machine, you got your ink now, just work!"

"..."

You push a bit of power and the printer is disconnected from the wifi, glad Mumbo thought you how that works.

"Ughh"

...

He punched it, you were waiting for this, you make it spray ink all over his face, It's hilarious. Well, that was entertaing enough, time to kill him.

*Extract from Hermittopia daily*

"Breaking news, Casino and Hotel Las Nevadas is not out of the woods yet. After last week's destruction by the hands of a group of villains and vigilantes the owner reportedly stated his own belief that the establishment would still thrive despite the accident... however this hopes seems to have been crushed as an infestation of toxic snails has taken over the main build. Is that right reporter Shelby?"

...

"Shelby?"

...

"Ehm ehm...Shelby reporting from las Nevadas?"

"Oh- uh...yes! That's right! Since an accident early this morning the pipes of the main building have been found to have been filled with snails! The species is still uknown but t-the police suggests go stay away from the perimeter as the snails have been found to be covered in an unknown...*ruffling of papers* toxic substance?"

"Yes, yes, truly brave of you to risk your safety like this in the name of reporting integrity"

"I...wasn't actually told-"

"Anyway, and what of the owner?"

"Right! Quackity has been rushed to the hospital earlier today as he was touched by one of these toxic snails, his condition is currently stable though further details have y-yet to be shared."

"Hmm, I heard you even managed to get an interview with his assistant?"

"... Oh! Yes! Yes! Mr. Slimecicle... He was very interesting."

"Oh? Interesting? Did he reveal something about the cause of this unexpected infestation?"

"Kind of?? He claimed it was the god from nowhere? I have never heard of anything like that."

"Is that all?"

"Y-yes, back to you!"

"Thank you Shelby...hmmm, never expected mr.Slime to be a particularly religious man...slime...thing... Well, for the weather-"

*End of extract*

Unfortunately he didn't die, guess you didn't make the snails toxic enough, or he's really really immune to the toxin... Still, you feel so much better already.

[codfanficedits]

Don't fall in love - Part three

Summary:

You get warned not to fall in love with Ghost, but you did anyways. Turning this into a little series!

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1122 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: a little bit of angst - swearing - mentioning of sex and masturbation

Part one and two here.

You want to go after him, tell him you’re sorry, tell him you’re struggling to understand the feelings you’re feeling, to tell him you’re afraid that if you let him in, he will tear your whole being down and leave you defenceless. But you don’t.

Instead you watch him leave.

A feeling of loneliness, guilt, even regret washing over you. Because you’re doing to him what others had warned you about he would do to you.

On the other side of the base Simon is struggling just as much, feeling stupid that he let his walls crumble, even it is was for you. On the other side of base Simon is hurting because he really did want you to be different. Because for you, Simon had convinced Ghost to let you in. You made him nervous in all the good ways. You made him want to change, to stop chasing that feeling of being desired, so he could pretend the desire was the love he had been craving so him.

Because he wanted, no needed a life that isn’t just about needing to escape his life, and he desperately wanted you to be that life.

But you had crushed him, you had left him when he had allowed himself to be vulnerable, when he had asked you to spent the night. You had played the tricks on him he used to play on others.

So Ghost went back on what he knew best. Self-destruction in the form of using others. Self-destruction by having another woman in his bed every night. Using the poor souls to get a taste of what a life full of love could be.

And you couldn’t stand it. You hated to see how he would use the same tricks over and over again, you hated to see how they would always work. The infamous leaning against the doorway, taking off his mask or balaclava at just the right time. Showing off his bare hands, rolling up his sleeves so you could just see the right amount of muscle with his every move.

And it worked every time. It broke your heart to see how he had moved on from you. You hated how he was still the only one who could fulfil any fantasies you might have, how it was him that you were craving late at night, but how you knew someone was laying under him, getting what you so desperately craved.

But how does one take the first step after this? ‘Hey, sorry I dipped after I promised to spent the night, but you see, I have some issues so I want to hurt you before you can hurt me.’ No. No that would be no good, but it would be the truth.

‘Hey sorry I dipped and then refused to communicate like a normal person, you see, I have some issues I’m working on.’

No.

‘Hey, long time no see, I still masturbate to the sex we had, but I cry afterwards because I miss your arms around me.’

Pathetic.

‘Hey, could you give me one more chance? I’ll probably fuck it up again whenever we get into an argument because I’m afraid people will leave me all the time, but I can make you feel good for a week or two.’

Fuck. You got more issues than you realised and maybe, maybe it would be for the best that it never worked between the two of you. Maybe you were one of those people who were destined to be alone forever, never worthy of actually being loved.

But destiny had other plans for you. Destiny set the two of you up for a mission together. Destiny decided that the mission went well, the two of you secured a piece of intel, and on a mission the two of you worked together perfectly. He was great at taking charge, and you were good at following orders.

So, you just had a simple, successful mission, and now the two of you were driving back.

Just the two of you, in that goddamn car. You could see him grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, while you looked out of the window of the passenger seat. Your knees pointed to the door. You wanted to get out, you wanted to avoid every possible form of communication. You could feel the tension in the air, the both of you dancing around the awkwardness that came with this.

This is why you don’t fall in love with him.

But the damage had already been done, you were already in love with him, and every passing second was a reminder that you could have had it all, but you ruined your own chances with him.

“I’m sorry.” You’re the first to break the silence and you get rewarded with a scoff.

“You’re still sorry you left that night?” His voice is sharp, and it cuts right through your soul. Your natural reaction is to go lower, to burn every single inch of him to the ground. But you’re trying to repair your damaged soul, and a better reaction is part of that.

“No.”

“Then what are you sorry for.”

“I’m sorry for treating you the way I wouldn’t want to be treated.” A weight of your chest, you feel like you can breathe a little better.

“Why did you do it?”

A valid question.

“Because I was afraid you would hurt me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I’ve seen you break the hearts of other recruits.”

“But they weren’t you.”

“No. But what made them different?”

“They don’t make me feel things like you do.”

Oh.

You find it hard to react to things like this, a part of you want to swoon at his words, beg him for forgiveness, lose a part of yourself so it can be replaced by him. Another part of you wants to keep the walls up, shut him out, tell him you’re a bad person, make him look at you the way you look at yourself.

“Don’t do this.” His voice breaks the silence.

“What?”

“Don’t go into war with yourself in your own head.”

He is reading you like a book.

“You’re like me.” He continues, Simon has kicked Ghost out again, trying to give you one more chance. “You’re afraid of getting hurt, so you hurt others before they get the chance to get to you.”

“That’s why I left that night.”

“I know, that’s why I usually kick the others out before they get the chance to stay the night.” The honest confession leaves Simons lips.

“Why me?” You must know it.

“Why not you?”

“Because I’m me.” And you don’t like yourself.

“And that’s what I want.”

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

The Show’s Over..

(A/N- IT’S MY ULTIMATE REVEAL @oneginn and @isas-bathbombs, I AM THE ⚔️ ANON. For real though, I had fun sending those asks to y’all)

RL! Cassandra Dimitrescu x FEM! Reader

(Warning: Angst, swearing, implied NSFW but no details, betrayal, fighting, blood, and death)

Now playing: “Love is Gone” by SLANDER

Cassandra Dimitrescu, the middle sibling of the three sisters, the famous resident playgirl of Miranda’s All Girls University. Never thought she would find true love, let alone someone actually loving her for who she is. She accepted the fact that no one could love her for her, but that all changed when you came along.

You were special, you never went after her fame or wealth. You loved her, or at least that’s what Cassandra always thought. The thing is..before you started dating her she slept with your best friend and played her. Leaving your dear best friend heartbroken.

You still remember that night. The night where your best friend called you frantically over the phone sobbing, explaining everything. The sound of the sorrowful voice on the other line infuriated you. You couldn’t even fathom how anyone could hurt someone like that, and just for the hell of it?

That same exact night, you silently decided that you will get vengeance for your best friend’s shattered heart. As many different ideas of sweet revenge went through your mind, you came up with your plan. You were going to get close to Cassandra and get into a relationship with her, then when she’s in her most vulnerable moment rip the “sweet” relationship away from her.

....

Today marks the five month anniversary of you and Cassandra’s relationship and y’all spent the day together, of course the day ended with you two having sex and afterwards sleeping in each other’s arms. Though usually Cassandra doesn’t sleep because of her reoccurring nightmares, so she just watches you sleep while smiling to herself thinking of how lucky she is.

She was so comfortable though, even more comfortable than usual. So consequently sleep consumed her, it only took a couple minutes until the dreadful nightmares appeared again.

Ever since she started dating you the nightmares have been about the same topics; you using her for money and fame or you suddenly abandoning her. Cassandra never told you what those reoccurring nightmares were about, her pride is too strong. So usually she just suffered in silence, dealing with the sadness and insecurities alone.

But things were different this time. The current nightmare that consumed her was by far the worst she’s ever experienced. Her eyes shot open, she wanted to scream but couldn’t; the anxiety gripping at her throat and tensing up her muscles. Cassandra closed her eyes and tried to do some breathing techniques to relax herself, being mindful to not wake you up.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw a figure sitting on the edge of the bed. It was you. Cassandra’s heart races a tad bit more due to the startled feeling, which didn’t last for more than a few seconds. She sits up and goes next to you, grabbing your hand tightly.

“Nightmare?” You guessed, fighting a smile from forming and messing up your concerned facade.

“Yeah.” Cassandra responded, putting her head on your shoulder.

“I would ask if you’d like to talk about it but-”

“I do. I wanna talk about it, I can’t hold this in anymore.” She suddenly confessed, a few small tears forming in her eyes as she felt the weight of her held in emotions weighing down on her.

“Oh- that’s surprising, well, go ahead I’m all ears.” You said, wrapping your arm around her.

Cassandra breathes in for a moment, she hesitates to tell you but after feeling your hand squeeze her arm reassuringly that was enough for her to talk. “Y’know before I met you, everyone that I slept with wanted me for only my looks, fame, money, you name it. Like being rich and famous is cool and all but it’s so damn exhausting sometimes.” Cassandra voice wavered and cracked, a few tears falling from her eyes.

“Oh..” is all you can manage to say. Damn you didn’t expect to feel sorry for her. Did your best friend really use her? No it can’t be- was your caring best friend really like that? Suddenly the original intention of vengeance disappeared and conflicting feelings overwhelmed your brain.

A part of you felt bad for your best friend getting their heart broke..but did you really know them? The sudden disappearance of vengeance felt weird and confusing since you were so accustomed to the feeling by now.

Your complex thoughts were interrupted by a hand on your chest. “Let’s go on a date, it’s our five month anniversary after all.” Cassandra said as if nothing ever happened.

You blink twice as you looked at her in shocked, “Uhh- it’s technically the next day..it’s midnight.”

“And? I can still take you on dates whenever I want.” Cassandra declared, sitting up straight before getting up from the soft sheets of the bed. “So what do you say my dear?”

You chuckle lightly at Cassandra’s dramatic mannerisms, watching as she already started getting ready, “Sure since you already decided for me.”

“Oh you know you can’t say no to me.”

....

You arrived at the same coffee shop that you two usually go to. Not that you minded, you really don’t need anymore chaos to flood your thoughts. When you walked in Elena was there at the counter, looking at the both of you with her usual blank expression.

Cassandra waves at her before turning to you, “Go find us a seat pretty girl, I’ll order for us. You want your usual right?”

“Yeah the usual, I’ll be over there.” You pointed to the corner of the shop before walking there to have a seat. Looking around you noticed that there was no customers besides y’all, understandable considering how late it was. It was peaceful.

You see Cassandra from afar, talking and paying for the order before walking off to the restroom. You played with the sleeve of your (Cassandra’s) sweater while you waited. Just then you hear the sound of the door bell jingle, quietly signifying that someone has entered the shop. Looking up in curiosity you saw the one person that you didn’t want to see, at least not until you got your emotions all sorted out.

Unfortunately they saw you and walked over smiling, looking to start an unwanted conversation “Hey I didn’t expect you to be here at this hour, what’s up?”

“Uhh I wasn’t able to sleep so-” you lied, they nodded their head in acknowledgment before examining you for a second and their expression changed.

“Wh- why do you have Cassandra’s sweater on?”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. A ironically loud silence. Clearing your throat, trying to think of some excuse. Two hands suddenly grabbed your shirt and yanked you outta your seat, now standing toe to toe against your best friend. They look at you with eyes filled with betrayal and rage.

“I see now, so this is the real you? A two-bit slut that would fuck anyone if given the opportunity.” They said with hostility in their voice.

At this point you had no choice but to tell the truth about the whole vengeance plan. As you open your mouth to speak you gasp at the sudden pain right on your lower stomach. The blood splattered on the floor, luckily the wound wasn’t deep enough to hit your organs but it sure as hell did some damage to your stomach fat protecting that vital organ.

Adrenaline course through your veins causing the pain to become no more, but you just stood in place due to the amount of shock you’re enduring. You step back just to fall and land on your back to the advantage of your now ex best friend.

Is this your demise? Is this really how you go out?

They get on top of you, holding the small metal knife to your throat so closely that you can feel the edge of the blade and the warmth of your blood on it.

“Wait..let me explain” You breathed out before continuing, “I originally dated Cass to break her heart and get vengeance for you but..she got me actually falling in love. I’m sorry my friend that I was selfish. I guess Karma’s a bitch huh.”

“Yeah..she’s a bitch.” They said before fatally stabbing you in the throat, the blade all the way inside.

Bittersweet memories of your relationship with Cassandra flooded your mind, you were suddenly so aware of your heart racing a tiny bit whenever you were around her, the subtle actions you did without even noticing. Cassandra really had you wrapped around her finger without you even realizing it. Wow, after everything how could you betray your own best friend like this? Maybe you were the bad guy after all.

With ears ringing and your vision slowly beginning to fade into darkness, you see Cassandra standing over near the bloody scene with a sinister smile on her face, “The shows over, my love~”

Masterlist

[writeforfandoms]

Okay okay listen valeria and "10 years too late on that, love" prompt. F!reader! Will it be angst? Will it be bittersweet? Will it be fluff? You decide! (Go batshit crazy hun congrats on 2k followers!🩷🩷🩷 Here have a cupcake🍨)

- 🌕✨

Hee hee, oh I'm already having ideas on this one. Oh this is gonna hurt and then be golden. Thank you so much darling!! I hope you enjoy this! 💖

Warnings: hurt/comfort, these two have History, swearing, mild pressuring into Situations.

--

You didn't shake as you went back to Las Almas. Didn't tremble. Didn't look for familiar faces, no matter how desperately you wanted to.

You were here to do a job, and that was it. You'd be here a couple weeks maximum. And then back to your new home.

Everything would be fine.

You checked into your hotel, already busy planning your schedule for the next couple weeks. You had a few people to visit, things to do. Nothing terribly taxing or hard, but work all the same.

You got three peaceful days of work.

And then you got cornered coming out of a meeting. Three men stood around you, all of them in plain black suits, earpieces visible. They looked like security, almost.

Except for the fact that you knew nobody you were working with had security like this.

"Come with us," one spoke up, voice low and rough.

You debated making a scene. Or trying to run. Or just outright refusing. But... Well, you hated to admit it, but you had an idea of who was behind this. And if you were right... You wanted to see her. Just once. Just this once.

"How far are we going?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Not moving yet.

"Outside the city," the man answered, a little reluctantly.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "And I'll be returned to my hotel room?"

He nodded, slowly but confidently.

"Fine." You let out a slow breath. "Fine."

They escorted you outside to a waiting SUV, bundling you into the backseat. You were oddly calm the entire drive - you already knew who you were being taken to, and you knew she wouldn't have you harmed.

You just weren't quite sure why. Why now. Why like this.

The house, when you arrived, was large and ornate. The yard was immaculate. You huffed a soft noise of amusement.

She had always dreamed of better things, and now she apparently had them.

A guard led you inside to the foyer and asked you to wait. You did, standing quietly and taking the chance to look around. The house was lavish without being ostentatious - nice floors and walls, but lacking the over the top touches. Nice. You hated to think it, but you approved.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had refused my invitation."

You turned slowly to watch Valeria walk down the stairs and towards you. Her hair was shorter than you remembered, with two braids on one side. There was a hardness to her that hadn't been present before.

But she was every bit as beautiful as she'd been when you'd left all those years ago.

"It was implied I didn't have a choice," you answered dryly, watching her, soaking in the mere sight of her. "You're looking well, Valeria."

"As are you." She stopped finally a few feet from you. "Apart from those dark circles. Not sleeping well?"

You smiled and ignored the question. "Why am I here?"

"Straight to business? How boring. I remembered you used to have more fun." She pouted, though it was purely for show.

"I wasn't here on business, then." You crossed your arms in front of your chest, tipping your chin. "It's a simple question."

She held your gaze for several long moments before her head dipped, just a little nod of acknowledgement. "You do good work still," she said, starting to pace a slow circle around you. A huntress, debating if prey was worth her time. "Your boss has nothing but good things to say about you."

"Dare I ask why you've been talking to my boss?" You kept the question wry, ignoring the thrumming of your pulse. She passed behind you, two fingers trailing over the back of your shoulder and part-way down your spine before lifting away again.

"I needed to know."

"For what purpose?" You didn't turn to face her, letting her play her little game. You stood straight and still.

Valeria came to a stop in front of you again. She didn't touch you this time. Just stood, looking at you, something longing in her gaze. "I'm offering you a job."

The laugh forced its way up your throat, bitter and wry. "You're ten years too late on that, love." The endearment slipped out without your permission. But you didn't regret it. Couldn't regret it, with the way her shoulders eased at that one word.

"I don't think so." Her smirk was cocky now.

"Don't you?" You shook your head, lowering your gaze. "That arrogance will be your downfall one day."

Her eyes narrowed and one hand lifted, two fingers under your chin forcing your gaze up until you met her eyes again. "Do you plan to refuse me?"

You let her hang there, waiting on you. It was good for her to have to wait sometimes, to have someone she couldn't growl into submission. "Tonight? Yes."

"Tonight?" She caught on the line, exactly as you'd expected. You both knew you'd left her that intentionally.

You leaned forward until her hand was pressed to your chest instead, your faces parted by scant inches. "Leave all of this, and we'll see."

Confusion flitted across her expression, almost too fast to catch. "Not even for you will I give up--"

"No, not give up." You frowned, considering how to rephrase your request. "There's a little restaurant near my hotel, with the covered patio and the gorgeous flowers. You meet me there tomorrow night. Just you. No guards at our table. No big showy motions. Just you." You lifted one hand, slowly, carefully, brushing the tips of your fingers against her cheek. Her eyes went half-lidded, a pleased cat.

"And then you will say yes."

"And then I will talk about it." You smiled, fingers slowly slipping into a small section of loose hair. Still soft. Just as you remembered.

You stepped back, before either of you could get carried away. "I'm going back to my hotel. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner." You took two more steps back and turned for the front door, both of you well aware that she was letting you go, that she was letting you retreat on your own terms. "If you don't show, I'll assume you're not interested any longer."

"Tomorrow," was all she said, a promise implied in her tone.

You smiled the whole way back to your hotel room.

[madneedshelp]

Redemption - Josh Kiszka x FReader

Summary: After an accident leaves you on the brink of death, the images of your life flash by while you’re in this limbo state. All the moments with the best friend you never got the courage to confess to consume you at the end. Now, all you can do is beg and plead for one last chance with him. Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Description of accident, language, mentions of death, alcohol use

Note: Ok so I know this fic is just super out of pocket, the idea came to me at like 2 am during finals week when my brain was fried, but I wrote it anyway. Also, I tried to not insinuate any religious afterlife specifications just because obviously not everyone has the same beliefs, so I promise I don’t want to offend anyone. I hope you all enjoy my weird fic!

There was no way to describe the way you were feeling except as saying you felt nothing. It was almost as if you were nothing. You were in an abyss of nothingness, but in a warm and bright way. It was comforting, not terrifying.

Still, you were vaguely conscious of the fact that this was…odd. Time didn’t seem to affect you, so you weren’t sure how long it took you to remember what happened to you.

There was an accident. It had poured so heavily the day before, but you and your two friends were on a hiking trip and determined to do a trail anyway. There was a small break in the rain and both you and Josh decided you should seize your opportunity. Jake had tried to be the voice of reason, but the two of you pulled him along anyway.

You were about halfway done when it was like the skies opened up and rain swamped you all. There weren't any good options for shelter, so you pushed ahead as fast as you could. By the time you made it to the final stretch, the downpour was thick enough that you couldn’t really see and mud kept trying to take hold of your shoes, but all you had to do was make it uphill and you’d be at the parking lot.

Jake and Josh were ahead of you, just far enough to be out of reach when you slipped. The path was narrow and slick. There weren’t any trees of substantial size along the edges. The combination of all those things ended with you sliding right off the edge of the cliffside.

The last vague memory you had is the sounds of screaming and the flash of fear as you plummeted toward a boulder below.

Despite the warm place you seemed to be in, cold panic started to seep into your veins. Were you dead? You must’ve hit your head on the way down, and now you were…no, no, no, you couldn’t be. You were a year away from finishing your undergrad, you had future trips planned with friends, and you hadn’t even told your best friend that you loved him yet.

Josh. What about Josh? You couldn’t die before you got to tell him how you felt. You had so many opportunities, but you never took any of them because you didn’t want to lose him if he didn’t feel the same. Hundreds of chances, but you always banked on there being a next time. Now you might've run out.

—--8 Years Ago—--

“Josh, I swear if you don’t put that back where it belongs, I will shave your eyebrows while you sleep!” You shouted, taking a good ten steps back from the curly-haired boy.

You should’ve known better than to agree to go to the creek with Josh. He and Jake had been begging you to come down here with you for weeks, but the weather hadn’t been very warm so far. Now that it was summer break, the three of you had ventured out here.

Not that you minded the extra time with Josh. Yeah, he was your best friend, but something was different lately. Though you had never talked about the feelings with anyone before, you knew it was a crush. You really liked this boy, even if he was kind of annoying and a bit of a weirdo.

He looked between you and the newt in his hands with false innocence. “What’s wrong? It’s not gonna hurt you. Don’t you like lizards?”

You held out an arm to signal for him to stay back. “I don’t love them, and also that’s not a lizard. Now please, just put him down.”

“It’s not? Here, why don’t you take a closer look just to check.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he lunged toward you with the small creature.

You let out a small shriek and took off down the creek. He followed after you instantly while laughing maniacally.

At some point, he either dropped or let the newt go, but it turned into him just chasing you. With the threat of the best gone, your competitive streak started to come alive and you would be damned if you let him beat you. Your legs were just a bit longer than his and you were fast. However, Josh was a ball of energy and he was rapidly gaining on you in the rocky terrain.

Just as his hand closed around your arm you tripped on a slippery rock and the both of you went down with a splash. The two of you kept laughing for a minute until if faded as a silent realization fell upon both of you.

Josh had fallen to where he was on his hands and knees hovering over where you lie on your back. His face was only inches from yours.

Neither of you were sure why the other didn’t move. Whether it was due to actual feelings or simply the curiosity of 13 year old kids starting to wonder about what it would be like to kiss someone, you couldn’t tell. You were stuck with your eyes locked on each other.

Unfortunately, you never got to find out what would’ve happened. You both hesitated a moment too long and Jake’s shouting grabbed your attention. He must’ve returned from his trip back to grab some water.

“Josh! Y/N! Dad said lunch is ready!”

“Coming!” Josh shouted back, scrambling up from his position.

He offered you a hand, which you took shyly, and started to brush yourself off. Neither of you said a word as you made your way back to the grassy lawn where you left your stuff. Jake was already gone by the time you two climbed up the bank.

“Hey, uh, do you want my shirt?” Josh held up the article of clothing.

He was smart enough to have shed it before you played in the creek. Still, his question took you aback.

“What?” You felt your face warm slightly.

He seemed to get a bit more embarrassed as he explained. “Well your shirt got soaked when we fell, so I just wondered if you wanted to borrow it.”

“Oh, um, yeah thanks.” You grabbed the shirt from him with a small smile.

As soon as it was in your hand, it hit you that you’d have to take off your shirt to change. And you were pretty far from the house. And there were very few trees along the creek.

Even at 13 Josh was a good guy. His manners kicked in when it mattered. Without you asking, he swiveled to face the field away from you so you could change and made a playful remark about keeping watch, even though it was highly unlikely that anyone would turn up.

You quickly swapped out your wet t-shirt for his dry one and poked him on the shoulder. “I’m done now.”

“Great, let’s go.” He smiled at you.

He was still quiet on the walk back. Normally, you could handle a comfortable silence with Josh, but this afternoon things were different. The two of you nearly kissed in the creek, you were wearing his shirt, and now you were noticing that he smelt oddly good for a teenage boy.

You would never tell anyone how much you regretted not kissing Josh. He would’ve been your first kiss. You ended up wasting it on some boy at a school dance the following school year, and you didn’t even really like him. But how could you have kissed Josh back at the creek when you didn’t think he wanted the same thing?

—--3 Years Ago—--

“Babe, you look absolutely stunning!” Jake’s girlfriend beamed at you after she finished doing your hair.

You flushed and blew a playful kiss at her. “Stop it, you look gorgeous! I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face!”

You and her had become good friends in the time she’d been dating Jake. She’d offered to do your hair for prom if you would do her makeup, and the two of you even went dress shopping together. It was kind of refreshing considering most of the time you hung out with the twins.

“I’m more excited to see Josh’s face. Seriously, there’s no way he’s just gonna sit there all night and keep calling you his best friend. He’s got it bad for you and this is gonna break him.” She smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes at her. “Not true.” It was, though. She had figured out your crush on him a while ago, but you would never admit it.

You and Josh were going to prom together, yes, but just as friends. You broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and Josh and his girlfriend had ended things around the same time too. That left both of you single and in need of prom dates. It felt only natural to go with your best friend, especially when you’d planned on going with Jake and his girlfriend as a group anyways.

“You know I don’t believe you, but I’d rather go see the proof now, so let’s go.” She winked and pulled you out of her room and downstairs.

As expected, Jake found his girlfriend to be extremely pretty and told her so at least four times. If you hadn’t been paying attention to their goofball romance, you might’ve noticed that Josh was looking at you like you were a shooting star, bright and rare, like if he blinked he would miss you entirely.

Once you stepped over to him, he blinked and cleared his throat nervously. “You look really nice.”

“Thank you, you do too.” You smile at him, trying to keep your voice even. He really did look good. He’d done his best to tame his wild hair and he even got a vest for his suit that matched your dress.

He offered you his arm and the two of you followed behind Jake and his girlfriend to the front yard to take pictures. Everyone’s parents were present, and millions of pictures of everyone and every combination of each were taken. For the next few years you kept a picture of you and Josh from prom in your room, along with your other favorites.

After pictures and dinner, the four of you finally made it to prom and everyone scattered periodically to mingle. Jake and Josh went to talk to some of their other friends, and you and Jake’s girlfriend did the same. Eventually, you all snuck out the back and drank a bit from the flasks you snuck in and returned to repeat the cycle of talking and dancing.

Of course it wouldn’t have been prom without the cheesy slow song thrown randomly in the mix. The four of you happened to have already been on the dance floor dancing to the upbeat song previously played, so Jake and his girlfriend almost immediately switched into slow-dance-mode. That left you and Josh. You were just thinking it would be the perfect time for a drink break when Josh held out his hand.

“Dance with me?” He asked with a grin.

You returned it and nodded. “Of course.”

As the steady ballad crooned from the speakers, you and Josh drifted together. His hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, you looked like every other couple on the dancefloor.

“Crazy to think we’re already here and graduating in like a month.” He chuckled.

“Oh, don’t go getting all sappy on me now, Joshy.”

“Can’t help it, I guess this music is just getting to me. Can I be honest with you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and nodded. “Yeah?”

He chuckled under his breath for a moment before he sobered up a little. “Relax, it’s nothing bad. I’m just glad that I’m here with you.”

You felt the seriousness creep back into you then. “Me too. There’s no one I’d rather be here with.”

The thoughts you had been trying to push away for the past few months were threatening to surface. Graduation in May. Summer break in June and July. Then you’d leave for college in August. After that you’d be states away from your best friends and family.

Just tell him. Say it now while you have the courage. The small voice inside you was screaming, but there was enough of you too terrified to act. You couldn’t ruin prom and the whole summer together if things went south.

Instead, you settled for laying your head on his shoulder and mumbling “I’m going to miss you.”

—--Your 21st Birthday—--

Nashville was a fun place to celebrate your 21st birthday. Since you didn’t get to see your friends often, the three of you splurged on the event and decided to take a trip. While you had all been drinking way before it was legal, being able to go bar hopping was still exciting.

Needless to say, you were all drunk and having a blast. You’d spent the earlier part of the day sightseeing and exploring the city, but tonight was the real reason for the trip.

At the last minute, you invited your college roommate out of nerves. You had gotten lucky to have been matched with Katie, she was now a close friend of yours. That’s why you asked her to come. You hadn’t seen Josh since your last break from school and you were more than a little nervous. You kept in touch over the phone, but in person was different. You were still in love with him, despite the fact that you’d tried to fall for other people, so you brought Katie in case you freaked.

Unfortunately, you forgot about Katie’s weakness for long-haired men and Jake’s tendency to be a bit of a hoe (which you meant completely lovingly). The moment Jake started tipsy-flirting with her, her buzzed self folded. They had been talking for a good part of the night.

However, things between you and Josh were good. You two were cool. You were friendly for the whole day, and now that you were on the drinking portion of the trip, your crush was scaring you less and less. It was definitely the liquid courage in your veins.

It was the dancing at a club that took you all out. The alcohol finally developed its depressant effect and tiredness was beginning to seep over all of you. Thankfully, the Air BnB you rented wasn’t far and you all were able to walk back home safely.

Katie and Jake were dangerously close to making out on the couch once you’d returned, so you and Josh escaped to the balcony. The night air was chilly and the two of you snuggled close to keep warm.

“This is nice.” You murmured, a dreamy smile on your face.

“What is?” Josh mumbled.

“You being here. With me.”

“Hmm I like being with you too, baby.” He hummed happily.

You snuggled into his side. “I love you, Joshy. I wish you were with me all the time.”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you. “I love you too. You’re my best friend, just don’t tell Jake.”

Even in your inebriated state, his words hit you. Best friend. Nothing more. You suddenly felt less buzzed and giggly. You were starting to remember that you were just a girl who had loved her best friend since she was 13 and he didn’t see you as anything else.

Except that he did. You didn’t know it, but he loved you so much. He wanted to tell you that too, but you looked so sad when he said it back that he got too scared to say more.

The trip ended two days later and you all went your separate ways, no closer to the closure that you so desperately wanted from him.

—--Now—--

You wanted to kick yourself as your life flashed past you. So many chances with Josh. Now he would never know that you loved him and you would never know if he loved you.

This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t end like this.

Please.

Anything.

I’ll do anything for one more shot.

I’ll be brave this time.

I’ll make it count.

Please.

“Y/N?”

It was fuzzy, like you were underwater, but you definitely could hear it.

“Can you hear me?”

You couldn’t quite form the words, but you could hear more clearly now. There was a woman speaking.

“Can you hear us?” Another woman spoke.

This time you formed a hum that you hoped was audible enough to be taken as a ‘yes’.

“Do you think you can open your eyes for me?” The woman asked.

Everything was so heavy, but you tried so so hard. You felt someone brush your arm lightly, and realized you could feel it. You could hear and feel and holy shit that meant you weren’t dead. That was the little push you needed to open your eyes.

You were in what was definitely a hospital room and two women in scrubs were watching you carefully.

“Glad to have you with us, Y/N.” The older one smiled. “I’m Dr. Jones and we heard you stirring a couple minutes ago. You’ve had a lot of people pretty worried.”

“Where…” Your voice was thick and raspy, but after a moment it came back enough. “Where are they?”

The nurse answered as she was checking your vitals. “One of the two boys that brought you in went to the cafeteria a few minutes ago. They said your family was on their way. You’ve been out for almost two days.”

That thought made you nauseous, but then your mind went back to her first words. “Josh?”

The nurse smiled at you. “Yes, I believe that’s him.”

“Y/N?”

You looked over at the doorway to be met with the sight of Josh. He looked exhausted. His eyes were rimmed in dark circles and he just looked…sad. But he was your Josh and it was the best sight you’d ever seen for that reason.

“Looks like you’re stable and doing well, so we’ll give you two a moment. Just take it easy.” Dr. Jones said before stepping out of the room with your nurse.

Josh was at your side in an instant, tears in his eyes. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. We should never have went out there. They didn’t know if you were going to make it. We were so scared. I was so scared. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You placed your hand gently on his arm and shook your head. “It’s not your fault. I made the choice to go. It was just an accident.”

“An accident on the trip I planned. On the hike I suggested. Baby, I’m so sorry.” The tears were falling down his face now.

You slowly lifted a hand to his face. “You didn’t do this, Josh. You actually saved me.”

“No I didn’t. Jake’s the one that carried you in. I…I was too hysterical, I couldn’t calm down.”

“No, not that. I kept seeing you. I had to get back to you. I think that’s what brought me back.” You smiled.

“What?” He wiped at his eyes.

“I couldn’t go, Josh. Not without telling you that I love you. I’ve been in love with you for so many years, and I know this isn’t a great time to say it, but I’m too scared to wait for something else to happen.”

“You mean that?” He croaked.

“I mean it. I love you.”

A fresh wave of tears slid down his cheeks. “God, I should’ve told you sooner. I love you too. I love you so much, and I never want to lose you. I need you.”

This time you took your chance. You pressed a light kiss to his lips and he leaned into it. Sure, you wished the circumstances were different and you could really kiss him, but you would absolutely take this moment over the alternative.

You would spend the rest of your life making the most of your second chance.

[luwritesomething]

Dean Winchester x Reader: worrying chronicles.

Warnings: Swearing (probably), angsty?? but not really. John Winchester mentioned throughout the whole thing.

Tags: a bit angsty but with happy/fluffy ending, childhood friends, can be read as romantic, romantic coded, hunter!reader, reader has known sam and dean since kids, season 1, pre-season 1, can be read as black reader, can be read as plus size reader.

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 1036

Summary: Dean calls reader and tells them he’s going to Stanford to get Sam. Reader wants him to rest.

Author’s note: I rarely ever write for Dean! Not because I don’t like him (I LOVE HIM), but because since I haven’t finished the show (i’m on season 8) the requests have to be either pre-show or within those seasons. Anyways, Dean and Sam Winchester requests are open, but with those conditions !! love my boys <3 graphic made by me (CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW PRETTY HE IS?)

You weren’t doing anything special when Dean called, you were planning foods and cooking weeks in advance. The hunter life you had led all your life had taught you enough to know homemade foods were a privilege, and that new hunts would always come into your life without a warning, wrecking all your plans. So, after those terrible, almost death experiences you liked to call a work well done, it was nice to go back home and find your fridge full of frozen food you could just heat up and eat.

It was the ringing of the phone that made you lift your gaze up from the vegetables you were cutting so carefully, your movements coming to a halt in order to not lose a finger without it being in a worthy battle. You didn’t let go of the knife as your hand, after slightly cleaning it against your jeans, came to grab the cell phone on the counter. Barely glancing at the name from whom the call was, you pressed the device against your ear and continued with your work.

“It’s me.” You answered quickly, hearing the background noise from the other side of the line. It was easily recognizable, considering you were able to recognize the noises Dean’s Impala made even in your deepest sleep. Perks of being friends. “Y’know, you shouldn’t make phone calls while driving.”

“I can do two things at once.” Dean said with a little huff, and even though you were probably a good amount of miles apart, you noticed the way his voice didn’t sound the same. He had never been good with masking his worry, and you had never been good at not worrying about him. 

You stopped cutting slowly and moved away from the counter. If something had happened, you couldn’t have your attention split in two. “Yeah, you tell that to the cops… Is everything alright?”

A beat of silence, which Dean used to avoid your question. “I’m driving to Stanford to go get Sam.”

“What?”

The silence let you know Dean wouldn’t be repeating himself, but thankfully enough he stayed on the line, waiting for your amazement to reduce. You had known the Winchesters for years — Hell, you three had practically grown together. It had been some long time ago, but you still remembered like it was yesterday the phone call you received from Dean to tell you that Sam had given up on the hunter life and basically left home after a big argument with their dad, John Winchester. You also remembered Sam’s call, after Dean’s, telling you the news. It hadn’t hurt from Sam’s part, knowing that was what was best for him, but it had from Dean’s, since he hadn’t been able to accept that his brother leaving had nothing to do with him.

You wanted to tell Dean that dragging Sam back into a life he did not want was not what he was supposed to do as a brother, but your mind went into another direction, knowing he wouldn’t accept that lesson from you; or anyone. All these years, Dean had been working wonderfully with his father, or so he made it look like — if he needed Sam, something bigger was happening, and he wasn’t completely avoiding telling you.

“Why?” You asked finally, your hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Was a headache coming your way already?

“My dad’s on a hunting trip.” He replied quickly, and something in the way he  said it told you he had rehearsed those same words a lot. Not because of being untrue, though, you knew John had gone on a big trip on his own for some reason Dean either didn’t want to tell you or didn’t know about. “He hasn’t called, he hasn’t said anything. I don’t know crap about him.”

That was bad. John could be an asshole, but his rules during a lone hunt were unbreakable, and those included informing constantly about his whereabouts. “Have you asked Bobby? Maybe he—”

“No one knows anything.” Dean interrupted you, rather abruptly. He was truly worried, and you just hoped he wouldn’t lose sight of the road ahead of him. “Nothing, none, nada. I’m getting Sam, and we're going to find where the hell he is.”

“Dean, wait.” Your glance shifted to the clock in your kitchen, your hand closing in a nervous fist. “It’s too late. You should rest tonight and go tomorrow morning, early.”

You could almost see him shaking his head. “We can’t lose time.”

“What is going to change if you arrive tonight at Stanford?” You insisted, rolling your eyes at how strong headed he was. Years together, and you still were amazed at how little he listened. “Dean, you’re in no condition to drive. You’re tired and nervous, just drive to my place, and then tomorrow—”

He called out your name rather harshly, to make you stop. “I have to find him.”

“And you will. Just come and rest, De.”

Your eyes glanced again at the clock when silence and the noises from the road were the only thing you could hear. Dean was really good with his car and he didn’t drive badly, but when he was worried things changed — you had been in enough almost accidents for you to have good reasons to not want him so late in the road. And he knew you were right, but the decision was on his hands, and it couldn’t help but irk you slightly.

You could still push it, though. “Please?” You murmured, loudly enough for him to hear it but also low enough to be able to be lost in the distance between you.

Dean clicked his tongue, and then sighed. “I’m fifty miles away. Don’t wait for me, I’ll climb through your window or something.”

“I’ll wait.” You retorted, with that voice you used to show you were completely adamant about your decision. It wasn’t difficult to hear the little huffed chuckle he let out, and it made you ease up, to know he was finally slowing down and rationalizing things. “Don’t run too much, dickhead.”

With a little scoff, Dean hung up and you found yourself smiling at nothing at all. 

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes And Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 14

Dean x Fem/Reader

Part 14🥰🐞

A/N: This might be triggering for people suffering from PTSD!💓 Side Note: thank you all so much for the support. Much love, my bugsies 🥰🐞

Warnings: hospital scenes, trigger warnings, sadness, violence, swearing, PTSD triggers, suicidal tendencies, drug use,🥹

......

The tear stained note, was short, when Cas read it, "Sorry Mom, I need some space, will call I promise, Love you" , shaking his head in disbelief.

In a soft low voice, Cas told Dean he could enter the house.

The broken ceramic pieces still scattered all over the open plan kitchen, Dean searching for her, the look in his eyes took Cas by surprise, it was filled with hurt, fear, sadness and guilt. He just handed Dean the note, he expected his best friend to have one if his outbursts of anger, but instead, all Dean did was crumble up the note, looked at him with bloodshot eyes, saying, I've lost her again Cas, his voice was low, barely audible but shaking.

Of course he tried explaining to best of his knowledge, that she didn't really mean to say all those things, it was merely because she was suffering from depression and the trauma but of course his friend didn't really believe a single word he spoke.

Eversince that day, he would check on Dean occasionally, finding out how he has been doing, he'll always get the same answer, just fine, never been better.

One night about 2 months since she left, he went by Dean's house, he just had a feeling he should check on him, walking up to the door, he could see the image of the once strong man, sitting at the table, bottle of whiskey, nearly finished, what looked like photos scattered out in front of him, the chain with the diamond ring in his one hand, but what really scared him was the gun in Dean's right hand, he didn't knock, he just barched in, making Dean look up from where he sat.

Not a single word was uttered at that moment, He just took the weapon out of Dean's grip, tossed it to the side away from them, begging him to talk to him. The only words that ran over his whiskey lips, was that he was tired, he misses her, and he tried searching for her, but she withdrew all her money at a gas station two towns over, and well as for her phone, she threw it in the closest trash can, she only called back home about three times from a damn payphone, Caroline said when they spoke her words seemed few and sort of slurred. I reviewed the cameras man, you should've seen her, his eyes filled with sadness, the body he came to know like the back of his hand was now only skin and bones, she seemed high Cas! Like she's using, she's doing drugs because of me.

Dean stood up, running his hands over his face. I did this Cas. If only I caught the bastard sooner. That night was the breaking point for Dean, and if he didn't show up, Sam would've lost a brother and their parents a son.

He explained to Dean that what very few people knew, is that its not just the trauma victim, but their loved ones that also get affected by it. He didn't leave his sight that night, promising Dean that he is there for him every step of the way and that they will get through this.

Its been almost a year now, and Dean has gotten better, he has healthier coping mechanisms for the dark days, and when those doesn't seem to work like it should, he throws himself into work, and taking care of Bobby, making sure he gets to physical therapy. Of course every know and then he sees Dean subconsciously play with the chain around his neck, still keeping his eyes and ears open for a clue of where she might be, hoping she'll just show up one day, and say she's sorry, and he knows for a fact Dean will take her back in a heartbeat. He knows that it isn't either of their faults that this messed them up so badly but, it still breaks his heart that all of this happened to two of the most generous, loving people he knows.

...

Its been three months since she left, the images replaying over and over. What am I even searching for, what was even the real reason why I left, fumbling in her handbag for some of the painkillers she bought by some sketchy looking dude at the corner, the only way of making the images of every damn thing disappear is by getting high, is it wrong? Hell yeah I know it is wrong. But really do I even care anymore.

More coffee comes a deep voice, looking up you can tell the man had gone through hardships in life but the smile on his face met his eyes. Yeah, thanks you said, your voice doesn't sound the same anymore, its gotten slower and well it sounded like you had given up on life. He just nodded and refilled your cup. Something to eat, the voice came out a little sweeter than before.

No thanks, you didn't really felt like eating, everything made you nauseous. How did I get to this point, a junkie who can't wait for her next fix, who's living out of her car, driving from one town to the next. Maybe it was a wrong decision to drive off that day, thinking back to the first time you felt high, you were about to towns over, tired off driving and crying, and in all honesty the pain in your leg was driving you crazy, busy searching through your bag, seeing the antidepressants and opioids the doctor and your psychologist gave you, with clear instructions on how to take them, you just took some, washing it down with an energy drink you bought at the fill up station. And that combination felt amazing.

For the first time the images in your mind weren't so scary, and you felt good, real good. Early morning came and the effects wore off, you made a promise to yourself that you won't do again. After you freshened up you might've took some more, for the pain of course, just saying that to make yourself feel better, that day was also the last time you spoke to your mom, just stating your okay and she shouldn't worry and you loved her. You could tell she was concerned and crying on the end of the line. But there was nothing you could say to make her feel better. If there was you would've tried it yourself. You just hang up the payphone, throwing your cellphone in a trashcan close by, you knew Dean had the resources to trace your phone, and you weren't ready to be found.

Over these past few weeks the using got more, wanting to feel the effects for longer, you started popping pills more than once a day, and before you knew it, the pill bottles were empty, and it ain't exactly over the counter drugs, so you drove around searching for someone who sold them, at first you were scared but know your just desperate. Taking any pills you can get that will do the trick.

The guy who sold this last batch to you, told you to take one, and it will make you feel good, and at first you did, but that didn't just quite cut it, so you took another two, swallowing it down with your black coffee.

After a while you started to feel Nauseous, walking as fast as you can to the bathroom, not really seeing how the man from the diner that refilled your coffee were watching you, after closing the door behind you, you could tell something wasn't right, everything started to look it was swimming before your eyes, you felt like you were burning up, sweat coming from your forehead, your legs felt weak and just gave in underneath you, you felt your head hitting against the basin and then the floor, your body started to shake violently and then it all went dark...