#I want to take him to therapy as much as I want to punch him

[farshootergotme]

Dick, Bruce and Cass for the Ask game

Please and Thank You 😊

Dick

Bruce

Cass

[aq2003]

tanner horrorjengashow your homophobic homosexual swag

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with bakugo and a black cat girl

⊱✿⊰ warnings: swearing, suggestive comments, fighting ig, idrk

⊱✿⊰ notes: i have had this request for like fifteen months lol but im finally doing it for my pookie's bday. Happy birthday ml 🫶 im posting it now so i dont forget lol

❀ he hates you at first sorry not sorry. bakugo just sees you as yet another one of those extras who happen to have an annoying tendency to fight with him. i feel like he might respect your tenacity but barely and he still hates your guts whoops

❀ on the topic of hatred, your other classmates half are jokingly shipping you and the other half are just wishing you two would stop fighting. mina is at the head of the shipping bandwagon especially after she read a book with rivals to lovers. todoroki might say he ships you guys only because he thinks it means he wants you two to get along lol

❀ your arguments would mostly be stupid shit like who rescued who, who did better on the assignment. you guys are rivals who also get into fistfights because why not.

❀ bakugo doesn't think much of your swearing problem because he's used to it by his mom. you're just another annoying person who happens to like using some naughty words all the time (him in girl form)

❀ i feel like the way you two get closer is kinda sad but also drama yay. basically mineta was being an S-class pervert and he was literally harassing you.

❀ and it made you uncomfortable so you started to fight back. bakugo doesn't find you until the aftermath, huddled in the corner of the dorm while trying to hide your tears

❀ he didn't know seeing someone cry could make his heart clench like that. But for some reason, seeing you all teary eyed and sad made him want to punch the living daylights out of whoever made you like that

❀ as awkwardly as he can, he tries to comfort you. His large hand patting your back, not saying anything since words have never been his forte. He was used to using anger to battle his sadness, he didn't know how to help someone succumb to it.

❀ you guys sit there in comfortable silence until you explain to bakugo what happened. he'd always hated the little brat but now he was wishing he had uraraka's powers so he could throw mineta into space. how was the creep still in the hero course?

❀ lets just say the nice day mineta looked more like a cranberry than a grape

❀ you guys aren't particularly close after that but he does tend to notice you more which means his respect for you goes up. you're in combat training and you beat deku? fuck yeah he likes you now. even if you don't hate deku like he does he still thought it was awesome seeing you beat the daylights out of him.

❀ the moment he realized he liked you was when he almost lost you. by now hanging out was pretty regular for the two of you, even if bakugo would rather die than admit that he sees you as a friend. and since you guys spent time together he was around for whenever you got crushes...and told him about it.

❀ most of the time he would shrug it off, especially since half of your crushes were fictional and why would he care? he's not jealous! however you started falling for a boy in class 2b which (for some reason) was a major no go for bakugo. why would you want to date a stupid extra when he was right in front of you

❀ despite what everyone says he isn't the most emotionally constipated. it takes awhile yeah but i imagine he started going to therapy during the course of the show so he started to understand what feelings went where and etc

and one thing was for certain: this feeling was love.

❀ he started being a massive asshole after that. he went right back to always arguing with you or ignoring you completely. he might understand his feelings but that doesn't mean he knows how to handle them

❀ he was so wrapped up in his angry emoness that he didn't know you had stopped talking to the boy from class 2b, forgetting him entirely. he also failed to notice the hurt looks you'd give bakugo before you snapped right back into your harsh comebacks.

❀ the reason you guys even talk it out is during a simulation where the both of you get stuck inside rubble. you were both exhausted, dehydrated, and heartbroken.

❀ you just couldn't help but ask, "why do you hate me?" which basically broke his heart into a million little pieces. he couldn't help the way he admitted to his feelings, the way he handed you his heart in hopes you'd keep it safe...and safe you did.

❀ if you two as rivals were bad you two dating is even worse. you guys are the ultimate power couple, able to tear anybody down with a few well placed sneers and snorts.

❀ everybody either loves or hates you guys. mina obviously loves you guys even if you two are constantly arguing still plus with the added of you two tag teaming one person. she loves when she manifests things.

❀ you guys still have that silly banter and with your tempers. but now you guys made up your arguments with kisses and cuddles

❀ you guys aren't allowed to get paired together for assignments because you are either bickering or making out. and aizawa is too tired to try to stop it.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 when you die because of being in a relationship with them.

Tw: Angst, dead, alcohol

No, I won’t pay for your therapy after reading this.

Kyle: Instead of feeling hurt, he felt rage. He was eager to kill everyone responsible. He didn’t hold back punches, and he didn’t kill with just a bullet wound. This wasn’t a mercy you got, so why should they? He tortured them until they begged for death. After everyone was dead, he realized that he couldn’t bring you back, that he missed your funeral because of this, and he cried for hours at your grave, begging for forgiveness. He wished he had been there with you.

Soap: He didn’t have the luxury of grieving and despised John and Kyle for that. Someone needed to take care of their kids, someone needed to hold everything together, and he did. He didn’t allow himself to grieve for you. He talked to your kids about you so they would never forget you. After he got all the kids to graduate, married off, or whatever they wanted in life, he allowed himself to cry for the first time.

John: He was always too close to the bottle, and your death only made it worse. For the first few months, Johnny brought him back home, but after three months, Johnny stopped, and Price’s home became the pub. “Don’t have a reason, she’s gone, Simon’s gone, Kyle’s crazy, and the kids��they know I’m not their real dad. They don’t need me.” Five years later, he made peace with everyone before he died happily of liver failure. “I’m going to see her again.”

Ghost: He knew dating him was a mistake; he knew it all along. So when he came home from his deployment with the boys and saw your dead body on the ground, covered in blood and ripped clothes, it was over. He didn’t even seek revenge. He knew what to do after Beth’s, Tommy’s, and his mom’s deaths. He was gone, left everyone behind, sent all his money to his kids, and disappeared without even saying goodbye to his boyfriends, much to Johnny’s hurt. He lived the rest of his life alone, in fear that someone else would get killed because of him. He couldn’t deny himself the chance to stand hidden in the crowds at your daughter's graduation and wedding. Seeing Johnny walk her down the aisle was his last straw.

[phntmeii]

Hil

Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a slashers × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?

If that makes sense...

Like the S/O is very sweet, short and small, like she looks petite and fragile but it turns out she can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.

If you could specifically add Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, (NBC) Hannibal and Will, and maybe Thomas Hetwit?

Sorry I don't know if that's too much to ask for, I just love your writing so much!

Being Stronger than Slashers .

[ SFW + Fem Terms]

Pairings: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Thomas Hewitt x petite!strong!Reader General Warnings: Descriptions of Gore/Blood, Violence, Slightly OOC, Descriptions of panic attack/episode, Manipulative behavior mention

A/N: ty anon for request <33 Back to slashers :) Sad I haven’t posted more of them literally in Halloween month but I’m working on it (last second lol) </33

Bo Sinclair

Absolutely turned on to the fucking max when he sees your strength.

Small, sweet partners was always his type. He just loves fulfilling the typical male stereotype of being a protector over his partner.

When he turned the corner, looking to finish off the last victim of the lot within his abandoned town, only to see something better.

He watched as you effortlessly were carrying the body of the victim over your shoulder like it was nothing. Head completely caved in, more of a mass of flesh and blood than an identifiable person. Your other hand held a bloodied hammer.

Bo was completely still, but not of fear. He was standing there like a man who had completely re-fallen in love again.

His eyes were shining as his grin grew wide. Approaching, he was nothing but prideful.

His voice was light with a chuckle, thumb brushing away the blood on your cheek. “Shit, sweetheart… Never knew a pretty girl like you was so… strong. I love it.”

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent was overprotective a lot of the time. He was insistent you were never near his work nor would you be involved when victims were in town.

He loved you too much to have you a part of him and his brothers’ work.

Vincent was slightly startled, hearing the door of his studio open. He knew both his brothers were out.

Seeing it was you, he approached, silently looking down at you. You could tell there was an air of disappointment at you being in his studio when he didn’t want you to be.

A ragged, strained voice spoke from behind his mask, “Why?”

With a shrug of your shoulders and a smile, you walked past him, further into the studio. “Bo said he needed a box in here.”

Watching you walk past, his eyes were hidden but widened as he watched you easily lift up a heavy table to look under it, scrolling past the items underneath it.

He approached confused but didn’t stop you. “Oh! Here it is!” Your arms held up a filled box of tools and parts.

Vincent followed you around curiously for the rest of the day like a shadow. He was completely fascinated by your strength, wanting to see it again.

Once you returned from helping Bo, Vincent couldn't let go of you. He kept his arms around you, head on your shoulder. His quiet, strained voice simply said, "Show me again... Please?"

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal always held an air of curiosity about you. Your sweet nature was like an untainted part of his life. A woman so far from himself.

Hannibal’s curiosity was never-ending. He took advantage of his intelligence to learn as much as he could. Stalking, Manipulative behaviors in “therapy”, etc.

You were almost always at his place. He liked it better that way although it provided some maintenance when it came to his extracurricular activities.

Hannibal had been making another of his fancy dinners for the two of you. The presentation had to be precise and perfect. Presentation was half the work for him.

He absentmindedly spoke while you were cutting vegetables beside him, “I have not set the chairs. I will do so in a moment, my love.”

Immediately, you wanted to assist. You always liked helping out. “I’ve got it!”

Watching you walk away, he expected to finish his current task before going off to assist you. Instead, he looked up to the doorway to see you easily walking past with a heavy wooden chair in each hand, easily carrying the two like they were just a stack of papers.

A small smirk curled at his lips as his hands slowed in their work. He whispered to himself, knowing his eager curiosity was not wasted, “You are… a delight, my love. You will make for something truly wonderful.”

Will Graham

Will was someone who was vigilant and aware. His mind always raced a million miles an hour with tiny observations and connections.

There was something about you but he just couldn’t place it.

But, what was there to prove? You were sweet and kind, seeming so far from what he knew. That was part of why he held love for you—You weren’t him.

Will was in his head again, silently panicked by his own mind. It was torturous to live in a prison of his own violent thoughts.

You were someone who always noticed. Always could pick up when these episodes started.

Holding his hands and speaking sweetly to him to draw him back to reality, unfortunately, wasn’t working this time.

His eyes kept darting back and forth while his breath quickened. With him standing still, quivering, you had to make the choice.

With simple ease, you picked Will up bridal style, walking away with him.

It took him a moment to realize what happened, breaking out of being inside his head. His eyes just stared at you when he was placed onto his bed, sweat drenching his forehead.

He broke out into a small smile, absentmindedly licking his lips, as was his habit. "I... didn't know you could do that."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No. It's... really attractive, actually."

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy was always a protector. Toward his family, it was evident. A given. Toward you, it was an inherent need.

The last thing he'd ever want is for you to be hurt, especially when victims come around.

He would lead you and Luda Mae into a room, having you two barricade it while him and Hoyt took care of the unfortunate victims who made their way to the wrong home.

You waited, albeit anxiously. And it only grew once you heard a loud thud followed by Hoyt's yelling.

"Goddammit, Tommy! The fuck are you doin'?"

Immediately you knew something went wrong. Despite Luda Mae trying to keep you in the room, you ripped away the makeshift barricade on the door and rushed out.

Tommy was on all fours, holding the side of his head. A man, you assumed one of the few victims, held a hammer in his hand. He quivered holding it, as if horrified by his own self-defense.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest chair, pulling back and cracking it hard against the man. Aimed for his head, he dropped to the floor unconscious by the impact.

You rushed over to Tommy's side, panicked. "Tommy! Tommy! God- Are you okay?"

His arm just instinctively shot out and held you to his body, protecting you in his mind. He opened his eyes and looked past you to see the victim with broken wooden pieces of the chair on top of him.

With his mask on, his expression was hidden. But inside, his heart warmed at how you were strong enough to protect him too. His own protector.

[cyberrose2001]

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

[rosemarydisaster]

I made some sort of alignment classification based on whether they're impulsive or if they plan ahead for the Batfam. Feel free to correct me (politely please, I'll cry) or to add your opinion. I'm not trying to be super canon, just based on their characters' vibes.

Bruce Wayne: 100% planner. This man could be a Bene Gesserit, plans within plans, and they always work even if they shouldn't (because DC can't have him be wrong). It's like a choose your own adventure, you follow the plan and each time something new happens that is sure to chase things up he pulls a subsection specifically for it. Senior Justice League Members just don't question him anymore no matter what. "You had a contingency for getting invaded by mind controlling ballerina spiders? Yeah, sure, tell us all about it".

Barbara Gordon: she plans around her impulses. She is self aware enough at this point to know she's a bit of a hot head. It is what it is, she's called Batman an Emo Boy's idea of Therapy enough times to his face to know she just can't help herself with some stuff. So instead of working against it she plans around it. In the end, it was her plan all along. Canary thinks she could just hold her tongue, but considering the vigilantes Oracle manages, her experience in planning for these situations is invaluable.

Dick Grayson: Impulsive, not because he can't make plans or because he isn't smart. Quite the opposite. He just has that ADHD dog in him. He would be guiding the Titans through a mission and they'd be thinking "Woah, everything is going according to his plan", meanwhile inside his head is Bear Grylls saying "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome". It's not so much that he comes up with plans on the spot but he ends up changing it along the way because he thought of something better for that specific situation. He may use B's protocols for a general structure but then trusts his instinct to come up with something better on the spot.

Cassandra Cain: Neither. She's not one to be coming up with elaborate schemes but, as much as she relies on her instinct, she's able to stop before jumping. She doesn't need to plan, she knows what works. She observes and then takes the best course of action. When Bruce goes on and on about the importance of planning she just answers "Skill issue" and leaves.

Jason Todd: impulsive planner. This is a man that makes plans, okay? He's theatre kid coded, he needs to know his little monologues by heart. The thing is, he's also very emotional and has the impulse control of a toddler in front of the cookie jar. He can't help himself, he has to punch the asshole and make the witty comeback or he will explode. The outlaws have been grilled to death on the importance of following the plan but then watch him like ten minutes later throw it out the window. They find it both endearing and annoying.

Stephanie Brown: Queen of Chaos. She can plan. She's good at it too btw, she just doesn't want to if she can avoid it. She works best when she's improvising and it drives Bruce and Tim up the walls. They just hate to see women winning. She's the best one out of all of them at turning a mistake to her advantage in a matter of seconds. It's quite impressive.

Tim Drake: Chaotic planner. Everyone is so sure Tim is a mini Bruce and to a certain extent, if you squint your eyes, then yes. But Young Just Us know the truth: his plans are extremely effective but only in the most chaotic way possible. There's the Batman plan, and there's the Red Robin plan, which is like the first one but faster and with more fire. He also has to be periodically reminded to take into account his own wellbeing when making his little schemes.

Duke Thomas: plans on the go. I don't know how else to explain it but it's like those sequences in the Sherlock movies (the ones with RDJ) where he's watching his surroundings and opponents almost in slow-mo till he puts together a plan. It's similar to Dick from the outside, but if you pay attention you can see the wheels turning in his head as he goes along. He actually stops and thinks (metaphorically, most of the time his thinking is done while he distracts enemies).

Damian Al Gul Wayne: he's a strategist, not a planner. This is an important distinction because whenever Batman or Red Robin are explaining one of their convoluted plans he feels like he's actively losing braincells. He's closer to Cassandra in the way he prefers a more direct solution. He also gets palpitations anytime Jason or Stephanie just start doing things without thinking. If he knew what Dick's thought process was he would have probably developed an anxiety disorder in his time as Dick's robin. He doesn't understand the need for such high detail planning and hates the idea of making it along the way. No, he just needs to come up with the most efficient strategy and that's all.

[revelboo]

Do you think we could get more of idw megatron x reader lost light? Love the thought of the reader being a therapy pet to him really. 🤭❤️

Invisible Monsters Pt 3

Lost Light Megatron x Reader

• Venting in irritation because Rodimus is likely off doing something ludicrous, but also because he’s now having to go look for him, he steps in Swerve’s and stops short. There are two humans on the bar top and it takes a moment to realize that one is Whirl’s holomatter avatar. Frowning in confusion right as Whirl rears back and kicks you in the shoulder hard enough you stumble back and fall on your butt. And Megatron’s striding over without deciding to, big hands curled into fists. Angrier than he’s been in a long time. Big eyes look up at him in surprise as he carefully scoops the human up, glaring at Whirl’s avatar. “Killjoy,” Whirl grumbles after him as he strides out of the bar, his original mission forgotten.

• Oh, he’s not happy. Staring up at Megatron’s scowl you pat your hand on his servos to get his attention and then have to lick your lips as that frown is leveled on you. “I asked him to teach me to fight. So I’m not so useless,” you mutter, aware of how silly it is, but not wanting to throw Whirl under the bus. And it’s true enough, because unless you encounter an alien your size, you still are not only useless, but a liability. And honestly, even against an alien your own size, you’re still getting stomped. It’s hard to not be painfully aware of how fragile and small you are surrounded by huge Cybertronians that can just carry you around like a kitten.

• “And you went to Whirl of all mechs?” He asks, unable to stay angry as you hunch your shoulders and don’t respond. Embarrassed and he does understand in a way. All too aware of how tiny you are in his hand, not useless, but definitely helpless against any Cybertronian. Venting to stir your hair, he carries you to his quarters and lowers his hand to let you climb down on his berth. Aware of the curious, but still almost sullen way you’re watching him as he places a foot on the berth and steps up as he mass shifts down.

• You’ve seen your share of weird things. As strange as the Cybertronians think you are, humans have nothing on them. And your mouth falls open as he just shrinks so quickly a whisper of vertigo makes you shudder. Then he’s striding across the berth toward you, still towering over you, but so much smaller than he was. Your brain’s struggling with understanding what you just saw, filing it firmly under nope, aliens being aliens. Flexing his huge servos as though as unsettled by whatever that was as you are, he looks up. Then down. His, you guesstimate, nine feet of height, looming over you. “Show me your stance.” What?

• Lips twisting wryly as you just stare up at him, he realizes you’ve never seen them do this. Given a choice, they don’t mass shift because of how risky it is. Becoming smaller is hardly an asset when your opponent is a lot bigger. You’re still not moving, so he wraps his servos around your arm and hesitates as his servos more than overlap. He’s at his lower limit for how much mass he can displace and you’re still so tiny. His touch snaps you out of your frozen staring and your eyes drop to his hand on your arm. “My stance?”

• That big hand let’s go as he shifts his weight and it clicks. A fighting stance. Apparently the lessons aren’t off, he just objected to Whirl teaching you. But you’re not entirely sure you want to spar with him. Getting knocked on your butt by Whirl was one thing. Even smaller, you’re positive if Megatron punches you, you’ll break bones. “You’re not going to hit me, right?”

• “Of course not,” he growls, optics narrowing as he flexes a hand at you, rolling his wrist. You really think he doesn’t know how easy he can break you by accident? With a sigh, you try to mimic his stance. Badly. “Widen your stance.” When you don’t move, he uses a ped to gently nudge your feet a bit apart, hands on your hips when you wobble. Lifting an arm, lowering the other arm bit. “Show me a fist. No, not like that.” He rumbles softly, lips twitching as you frown up at him like he’s being demanding. You have no idea.

• Big warm hands on you. Pushing, pulling, and nudging you where he wants you while he explains why you’re doing it wrong, but you’re not really listening. Every time one of them’s picked you up, you’d been aware of how much warmer than you they are. But this close to your size? His touch is like a brand and the glide of servos on skin is all you can think of. When he gently grips your chin to turn your head, the breath shudders out of you, because he’s too close. Far too close and his hands are on you and your brain is suddenly far too interested in the way those hands feel. He really is going to break you.

Previous

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[lupinqs]

CHAPTER NINE ━━ Mending

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 9.2K (bruh i should’ve split this in two)

☆ ━ warnings: mentions of conversion therapy, sexual content (fingering)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: this is sooo long and not proofread but i hope the length and the content make up for me not posting last night lol

“NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Thaliah’s voice rings out firmly, leaving no room for argument as it fills the space of her bedroom. The statement feels like a slap, and Paige, who sits cross-legged on the floor, snaps her head up, eyes locking onto Thaliah’s.

“Why?” Paige asks, the offense clear in her tone.

Thaliah doesn’t miss a beat, looking at her like she’s completely lost her mind. “Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, sarcasm dripping from every word, “probably because she dropped us after being friends for years, then acted like a complete bitch for months. And, what? Now that she and Hudson broke up and she’s lost all her popular friends, she’s suddenly crawling back to us?” She shakes her head, crossing her arms in defiance. “Absolutely not. And, Paige, don’t forget she literally broke your heart!”

Paige feels the words hit her like a punch in the gut, a bitter reminder of the pain she’s been trying so hard to push down. Broke your heart. That part stings the most, because it’s true, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

She swallows hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, Thal—”

Jalen, who’s been quietly scrolling through his phone on Thaliah’s bed, cuts in, his voice calm but dismissive. “P, Dani doesn’t even like basketball that much. She doesn’t need to come.”

Paige whirls around to face him, her frustration bubbling to the surface. It’s been a couple of weeks since the night of the season-opener—since Dani and Beau called it quits, and since Paige and Dani kissed at the park. That kiss had been everything Paige had imagined for so long, but it hadn’t been a magic fix for all the hurt between them. Not by a long shot.

They haven’t kissed again since, but things have shifted between them. Conversations that once felt awkward and strained are easier now. More and more, Dani smiles at Paige the way she used to—like she knows Paige better than anyone else. It’s the kind of smile that makes Paige’s heart do this stupid little flip in her chest. But it still feels like they’re walking on egg shells around each other, and Paige knows it.

Still, they’ve hung out a significant amount since and there’s been so much real progress. Paige can only hope soon everything will be almost entirely normal again. At this point, the only thing that’s truly missing is the four of them together and friends—Paige, Dani, Thaliah, and Jalen. Like it’s been for years.

But, clearly, the latters of the quartet do not feel the same. Especially because now, in Thaliah’s room with her laptop open and ready to purchase Timberwolves tickets, a tradition that’s been theirs since they were kids, neither Thaliah nor Jalen are interested in Dani coming. Even though she’s always come with them. Even though this is their last year together before college splits them up. Paige can’t stand the idea of Dani not being there, and—even with all of the recent drama—she can’t believe that her other two best friends can.

“She’s come every year,” Paige argues, her voice tightening. “It’s tradition. It’s our thing. And this is the last time we’ll all be together before we leave. She’s coming.”

Thaliah raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Not unless she apologizes. To both of us.”

Paige’s frustration spikes. “She’s tried to! But you still have her blocked, and you completely ignore her at school!”

Thaliah scoffs, her expression hardening. “She blocked me first!”

Jalen, ever the mediator, sighs. “Look, Paige, it’s not that we don’t get it, okay? But Dani ghosted us, and she was a total asshole. She can’t just show up like nothing happened. Especially not after everything she did to you.” He looks at Paige, his tone softening. “I mean, seriously, P—you of all people should be the last person defending her right now.”

The room goes quiet after Jalen’s words sink in, the weight of the truth pressing down on Paige’s chest. She knows what they’re saying isn’t wrong. Dani did hurt her—badly. She spent months wondering what she did to drive Dani away, nights crying herself to sleep after Dani told her they couldn’t be friends anymore. The memory still twists her stomach in knots, but—

“She’s been through a lot,” Paige says quietly, though there’s a tremble in her voice now. “You guys just don’t know the whole story.”

Thaliah’s eyes narrow. “Then enlighten us, Paige. What’s Dani been through that justifies all her shitty behavior?”

Paige bites the inside of her cheek, feeling the familiar wave of protectiveness rise up in her. She can’t tell them. She knows what Dani’s been through—everything she’s faced with her dad, the conversion camp over the summer, the fear and guilt that’s been eating her alive. It’s not Paige’s story to tell, though. And despite everything, the blonde knows Dani isn’t ready to talk about it, not yet.

She shakes her head. “It’s not my place to say.”

Thaliah scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “So we’re supposed to just take your word for it? Without any explanation? We’ve all been through shit, but we didn’t treat our friends like crap because of it.”

Paige clenches her jaw, trying to keep her cool. “It’s not the same, Thal. Dani’s different now. You don’t know what she’s been dealing with, but she’s trying to make things right. She’s tried to apologized.”

“When? To who?” Thaliah presses. “She sure as hell hasn’t apologized to me or Jalen.”

“I told you—she tried. But how’s she supposed to if you won’t even give her a chance?”

The argument spirals, voices rising as Paige, Thaliah, and Jalen go back and forth. Every time Paige feels like she’s getting somewhere, they push back harder, reminding her of all the ways Dani hurt them, all the reasons they have for keeping their walls up. But Paige is tired—tired of having to defend Dani over something that’s hardly even her fault to begin with, tired of feeling like the only one who still believes in her. Her hands clench into fists, her throat tight with emotion.

“She’s been through enough,” Paige says, her voice cracking with exhaustion. “You guys have no idea what she’s been through. But I’m telling you—she’s trying. She’s doing the best she can. And you need to cut her some slack.”

Thaliah crosses her arms again, her expression stony. “If it’s that serious, then tell us what’s going on, Paige.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “I can’t. You know that I would if I could. But it’s not my business to tell—seriously.”

Silence stretches between them, thick with tension. Paige can feel her pulse pounding in her ears, frustration clawing at her throat. She knows she’s not getting through to them, but she doesn’t know how else to make them understand. All she wants is for them to see the Dani she knows—the Dani who’s struggling but trying to make amends, trying to rebuild what she broke.

Finally, Thaliah sighs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine! Fine, Jesus Christ, she can come.”

Paige lets out a long breath, but it’s not relief she feels. It’s something closer to exhaustion, the kind that weighs heavy on her chest. She can tell by the look on Thaliah’s face, the tension still radiating from Jalen, that this isn’t over.

IT’S SATURDAY, and Dani’s sitting on Paige’s bed, fiddling with her hands as the silence stretches between them. She shifts uncomfortably, pulling at the sleeves of her Timberwolves hoodie, trying to figure out how to bring up the topic that’s been gnawing at her ever since Paige told her they’d all be going to the game together. Dani’s stomach churns at the thought of seeing Thaliah and Jalen again. It’s been months since things got bad, since she cut them off—cut everyone off, really—and she’s not naïve enough to think they’ll just welcome her back like nothing happened.

She glances at Paige, who’s sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, her face focused as she scrolls through something on her phone. Dani takes a deep breath, feeling her nerves bubble up inside her.

“How bad is it? Like, seriously.”

Paige freezes, her thumb pausing mid-scroll. She doesn’t look up or make eye contact with Dani, which isn’t a great sign. Instead, she moves closer, sitting beside Dani and reaching out to gently run her fingers over one of Dani’s braids.

“These are cute,” Paige says softly, the corner of her lips quirking up. “When’d you learn to Dutch?”

Dani’s heart stutters in her chest, just for a second, at the way Paige’s voice drops, warm and affectionate. The way her fingers ghost along the braid, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to touch her like this.

She clears her throat, ignoring the way her pulse quickens and instead looks at Paige pointedly, refusing to be distracted. “Seriously, Paige. What’s the damage?”

Paige sighs, her fingers stilling before slipping away from Dani’s braid. She drops her hand into her lap, her shoulders sagging slightly as if she’s been carrying the weight of this conversation for too long already. Dani can feel her heart rate pick up, the anxiety starting to claw its way up her throat.

It’s been a few weeks since the breakup with Beau, since the night she and Paige kissed in the park and the walls she’d built so carefully around herself began to crumble. They haven’t talked about it much, that kiss. There’s been this weird understanding between them, this unspoken agreement to focus on rebuilding their friendship first. But even that hasn’t been easiest thing. And now this—seeing Thaliah and Jalen again, the two people she’s ghosted harder than anyone—it feels like a hurdle she’s not sure she’s ready to face.

“They’re… hurt,” Paige finally says, her voice soft but steady. She’s always been honest with Dani, even when it’s hard to hear. “Thaliah’s pissed. Jalen, too. They feel like you just… disappeared on them. And that hurt them, Dani.”

Dani swallows, feeling the familiar sting of guilt settle in her chest. She knows that. She knows how much she’s hurt them. But hearing it from Paige, who’s probably been their buffer through all of this—it makes it worse somehow. She pulls her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest as she leans back against the headboard, her fingers picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I didn’t mean to hurt them,” Dani says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything. And I know that’s not an excuse, but…”

Paige looks at her then, her eyes softening. She shifts on the bed so she’s facing Dani fully, one leg folded underneath her. “I get it,” Paige says gently. “But you gotta understand, Dani—they’re not just goin’ to forget ‘bout what happened. You have to make it right.”

Dani nods, the knot in her chest tightening. She hates this. She hates feeling like the villain in a story she never wanted to be a part of. But she also knows that Paige is right. If she’s going to fix things with Thaliah and Jalen, she has to own up to what she’s done. She’s been avoiding that for too long now, thinking she could just skate by, keep her head down, and hope everything blows over.

“How mad are they, really?” Dani asks, her voice small, almost like she’s bracing herself for impact.

Paige lets out a long breath, rubbing a hand over her face before meeting Dani’s eyes again. “Thaliah jus’ feels like you dumped us for the popular crowd, and now that you’ve lost them, you’re coming back to us as a backup. She said she wants an apology. Jalen… he’s more hurt than mad, but it’s still going to take time. He wants to understand why, but you kind of shut everyone out. Including me.”

Dani winces. The truth stings, but it’s exactly what she expected. “I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” she mutters, frustration creeping into her tone. “It wasn’t like I wanted to leave you guys. I just… I dunno, I was going through a lot of shit.”

She knows she sounds defensive, but she can’t help it. She’s been wrestling with her own demons for months, and as much as she knows she screwed up, there’s still a part of her that wants them to understand. Wants Paige to understand.

Paige tilts her head, studying Dani for a moment before speaking. “I know you were. I get that, more than anyone. But you need to explain that to them. They can’t just guess what you’re going through.”

Dani’s eyes drop to her lap, guilt mixing with frustration. “I don’t even know if I can explain it,” she admits, her voice cracking. “There’s just… so much.”

She feels the weight of everything pressing down on her—the months of confusion, of fear, of trying to figure out who she is while constantly feeling like she’s drowning in expectations she can’t meet. The summer spent at that camp, the suffocating guilt that still clings to her even now. It’s all too much sometimes, and Dani doesn’t know how to package it all neatly into an apology.

Paige leans in, her hand brushing against Dani’s knee in a way that’s comforting, grounding. “You don’t have to explain everything. Just start with ‘I’m sorry.’ The rest’ll come.”

Dani looks at Paige, her chest tightening again, but this time it’s different. There’s something warm in the way Paige is looking at her—something patient, something real. It reminds her why she’s here in the first place, why she’s willing to go through this awkward, painful reconciliation. She missed Paige. She missed her more than she could ever say.

“Okay,” Dani says quietly, nodding.

Paige smiles then, that small, gentle smile that always makes Dani feel like maybe everything’s going to be okay. The kind of smile that got her through middle school, through all the awkward, awful years of figuring out who they were together. And now, maybe, they’re figuring it out again.

Before Dani can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door, and the sound of voices filters in from the hallway—Thaliah and Jalen have arrived. Dani feels her stomach flip, anxiety tightening its grip on her again, but Paige squeezes her knee, a small reassurance before she stands up.

DANI SITS in the backseat of Jalen’s car, staring out the window, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The soft hum of the engine and the occasional muffled voices of Jalen and Thaliah are the only sounds filling the silence. It’s awkward—really awkward. The tension in the car is almost palpable, like a weight pressing down on Dani’s chest, and no amount of deep breathing is helping her get rid of it.

She glances over at Paige beside her, whose eyes are focused on her phone, seemingly unbothered by the uncomfortable atmosphere. Dani, though, can feel every second dragging on. She feels like she’s intruding, lacking the belonging she used to feel.

It isn’t supposed to be like this. Dani tried to fix things earlier, back when they were still at Paige’s house, standing awkwardly in the doorway as Thaliah and Jalen walked in. She’d worked up the courage to apologize, knowing that they both deserved it and it needed to be done. But before she could even get halfway through the first sentence, Thaliah cut her off.

“We’re late,” Thaliah snapped, her gaze avoiding Dani altogether. “We need to leave now.”

She hadn’t even looked at Dani, hadn’t let her finish. And now, Thaliah’s silent treatment is even worse. She refuses to acknowledge Dani’s presence, her eyes trained forward in the passenger seat, body angled slightly away as if Dani’s existence is something she’s choosing to ignore.

Jalen, at least, isn’t so bad. He smiled at her when they first got there, a small, hesitant smile that made Dani’s stomach unclench for a moment. He doesn’t seem to hate her, but the difference between how things used to be and how they are now is still glaring. His warmth feels distant, like a memory she’s grasping for but can’t quite reach.

Dani’s fingers twitch in her lap. She feels like she should say something; try to break the ice. But every time she opens her mouth, the words die in her throat, swallowed by the heavy silence. There’s this growing sense of dread in her chest, like she’s on the outside of a life she used to belong to, looking in through a foggy window.

Her mind replays her failed apology, over and over, until it stings so much she has to squeeze her eyes shut for a second. It’s worse than she thought it would be.

Beside her, Paige shifts slightly, adjusting her seatbelt. Dani feels a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly Paige fits into this scene, like nothing’s changed for her. Because it hasn’t really.

The car hits a bump, jostling Dani from her thoughts, and she presses herself closer to the door, feeling like she needs to take up as little space as possible. Her chest feels tight, anxiety winding itself up inside her like a spring ready to snap. She presses her nails into the palm of her hand, a small, grounding action she’s done a million times before.

Then, out of nowhere, she feels it. The soft brush of Paige’s pinky against hers. It’s so subtle that for a second, Dani wonders if it was just her imagination. But then Paige’s pinky hooks around hers, intertwining them in a simple, quiet gesture.

Dani turns her head to look at Paige, and even though Paige is still staring at her phone, the small act of comfort is enough to pull Dani back from the edge of her spiraling thoughts. Paige knows. She always knows.

The knot of anxiety in Dani’s chest loosens just a little, and she offers Paige a small smile in return. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s a reminder that, despite everything—despite how different and weird everything feels—Paige is still here. Paige is still hers, in some way.

The silence stretches on again, thick and uncomfortable, but the connection between her and Paige helps. Dani keeps her pinky linked with Paige’s, like it’s her only lifeline in the storm of awkwardness swirling around them.

The car ride doesn’t last much longer. Soon, Jalen is pulling into the parking garage, and between him and Paige, the awkward energy in the car begins to bleed into one of excitement. Jalen’s grin is contagious, his eyes bright as he shuts the car off, and Paige is right there with him, a wide smile splitting her face.

Dani—not so much. She feels the heavy weight of the tension that’s been trailing her since the moment they got into the car, and from the way Thaliah’s sitting stiffly in her seat, Dani knows she’s not the only one. Thaliah is quieter than she’s been in the past, the sharpness in her expression tempered, but Dani can tell she’s still pissed solely because of her presence.

As they get out of the car and begin walking toward the arena, Jalen and Paige lead the way, talking animatedly about the Timberwolves’ latest games and their score predictions for today. Thaliah lingers behind them, silent, her arms crossed over her chest, and Dani is acutely aware of her presence at her side. She sees the dirty look Thaliah throws her, the subtle but deliberate shift in her body language as she moves past Dani to walk next to Jalen instead, seamlessly falling into step beside him like Dani doesn’t even exist.

Dani’s heart sinks a little further, the sting of it sharp despite everything. She already expected the cold shoulder, but seeing it—feeling it in every glance, every movement—makes it so much harder to ignore.

Paige notices it too. Dani catches the brief drop in Paige’s smile as her gaze flicks to Thaliah, eyes narrowing in irritation. Paige rolls her eyes, a quick flash of annoyance breaking through her usual composure before her grin returns. Without missing a beat, Paige wraps an arm around Dani’s shoulders, tugging her close, her body warm and familiar.

The side of Dani’s head rests against Paige’s shoulder, their height difference making the gesture feel even more intimate, like Paige is shielding her from the mess they’re all stuck in. Dani tilts her head up slightly, meeting Paige’s gaze as she grins down at her.

“This’ll be fun,” Paige says, her voice light and filled with optimism, like she’s determined to make this a good night despite everything.

Dani musters a small smile, trying to match Paige’s energy. “Yeah,” she says, but the word comes out flat, and she can see that it’s not enough for Paige.

Paige pinches Dani’s shoulder lightly, a playful edge to her voice as she nudges her again. “Come on, get excited, Dan.”

Dani forces herself to let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she leans a little closer into Paige’s warmth. “Alright, alright,” she says, her smile a little more genuine this time. “I’ll try.”

Satisfied with that, Paige’s grin widens, and she keeps her arm around Dani as they continue walking toward the arena. It helps, even if just a little. Paige has always had that effect on her, making things feel easier, less heavy. But it doesn’t completely erase the weight of Thaliah’s pointed silence, or the fact that Dani can practically feel the disdain radiating from her.

By the time they get into the arena and find their seats, Dani’s stomach is in knots again. The seating arrangement couldn’t have been worse if someone had planned it out. Jalen sits on one end, Paige right next to him, Dani beside Paige, and then Thaliah on the other side of Dani, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Thaliah doesn’t say anything, but the look on her face says enough. She lets out a quiet scoff, her gaze fixed ahead as if she’s already checked out of the evening. Dani catches the slight roll of her eyes before she shifts in her seat, visibly tense, and Dani feels the urge to disappear all over again.

Dani sighs softly, sinking further into her seat and trying to shift away from Thaliah as much as possible without making it obvious. Her side presses into Paige’s, their arms brushing, and Paige doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, Dani thinks Paige probably prefers it this way, keeping Dani close and holding her steady like she’s done a million times before.

As the arena starts to fill with the low hum of chatter and excitement, Dani finds herself leaning into Paige just a little more, seeking the comfort she knows Paige will give her without question. She feels a soft pang of guilt, wondering if she’s relying too much on Paige to make her feel better, but the alternative—sitting there in silence, stewing in her own anxiety and the cold wall between her and Thaliah—is much worse.

It’s clear pretty early on into the game that they aren’t losing this one. Minnesota’s ahead, and the energy in the arena is infectious. Every time the Timberwolves make a good play, Jalen is up on his feet, yelling, and Paige is right there with him, her voice hoarse from screaming at the top of her lungs. It’s the kind of excitement that pulls you in, makes you forget about everything else. Dani finds herself caught up in it too, even letting out a few shouts of her own when Paige eggs her on, laughing as Paige grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her gently, her enthusiasm impossible to resist.

Thaliah, though, is a different story. She’s still sitting with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, barely reacting to anything happening on the court. Every so often, Dani glances her way and all she gets is a glare in return. Being close to Paige right now—feeling her warmth, hearing her laughter in her ear—makes everything feel a lot easier, though. Paige has her arm around Dani’s shoulder again, and they’re both giggling between plays, Paige whispering jokes and comments to her every so often, just loud enough for Dani to hear. It’s been forever since they’ve felt this close, and for a moment, Dani lets herself relax into it, lets herself enjoy the game, the atmosphere, Paige.

And Jalen—he’s warming up to her again too. At first, there had been a little distance between them, but now he’s talking to her like old times, nudging her shoulder when something exciting happens and even giving her a smile that feels genuine. It’s a small relief, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could get back to how they used to be.

But, for Dani, Thaliah’s discontent still casts a shadow over everything. She can’t fully escape it, no matter how much fun she’s having. It’s like a weight sitting on her chest. She wants to fix what’s happened between them—Thaliah has been one of her closest friends since the fourth grade. She doesn’t want to lose that—even though, if she truly has, she supposes it is her own fault.

At one point, Thaliah stands abruptly, muttering, “I’m going to the bathroom,” her tone clipped as she walks down the aisle. Dani watches her go, and the guilt she’s been carrying with her all night surges up again. She sighs, feeling the heaviness return as she stands up as well.

“You know what, I’m gonna go too,” Dani says to Paige, her voice quieter now.

Paige frowns, her eyes flicking to Thaliah’s retreating figure before locking back onto Dani. There’s a moment of hesitation, like Paige can sense what’s really going on, the unspoken tension that Dani’s been trying to push aside. “Do you want me to come?” Paige asks, concern lacing her words.

Dani shakes her head, offering a small, strained smile. “It’s fine. I’ll be quick.”

Paige’s frown deepens for a split second, but then she nods, giving Dani a quick squeeze on the shoulder before she goes. Dani makes her way through the crowded stands and down the hallway toward the bathroom, her heart pounding harder with each step. She doesn’t exactly know what she’s going to say to Thaliah, but she knows they can’t keep avoiding each other like this. Not anymore.

When she pushes the door open, the bathroom is surprisingly empty for a busy game like this. It’s just her and Thaliah.

Thaliah stands at one of the sinks, leaning over to check her reflection in the mirror. When she sees Dani walk in, she lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls her eyes, not even bothering to hide her irritation. “Why did you follow me here?” she snaps, turning around to face Dani with crossed arms.

Dani swallows. “I wanted to talk to you. You didn’t let me apologize before, so I want to do it now.”

Thaliah scoffs, her expression hardening. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Despite the fact that she expected the response, Dani feels a pang of hurt at her words. Nevertheless, she presses on, refusing to back down. “Why won’t you even let me try?” she asks, her voice softer now. “I know I messed up, but—”

Before she can finish, Thaliah explodes.

“Because it’s not that simple, Dani!” Thaliah’s voice is sharp, her eyes flashing with anger. “You ghosted me. You. And you didn’t just ghost me, you ghosted all of us. And yeah, I get it, you and Paige are best friends, you always have been. But before all this happened, you were my best friend, too. Do you even realize that? You were my best friend, and then you just—disappeared. No explanation, no warning, nothing. And I had to sit there and watch you be fine with everyone else while I was the one who lost my best friend.”

Thaliah’s voice cracks at the last part, her hands trembling as she wipes furiously at her eyes, and Dani’s heart drops. She’s never heard Thaliah sound like this before—so raw, so hurt.

Thaliah takes a shaky breath, and when she looks at Dani again, her eyes are filled with tears. “I mean, sure, I’m close with Paige and Jalen, but it was never like how it was with you. You and me—we told each other everything. We did all the girly things that Paige and J refused to participate in. You were like my sister. And then, suddenly, it was like I didn’t even exist to you anymore. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Dani feels her own tears welling up now, the guilt crashing over her in waves. She takes a step closer to Thaliah, her voice breaking as she tries to explain. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I swear I didn’t. I just… I was in a really, really bad place and I was looking for distractions and I didn’t know how to deal with what happened over the summer.”

Thaliah shakes her head, her tears falling freely now. “What happened, Dani? What was so bad that you couldn’t even talk to me about it?”

Dani’s throat tightens as she thinks back to the summer—how everything spiraled out of control, how she was sent away to that camp, how she shut down completely afterward. It’s hard to even think about it, let alone fucking talk about it. Opening up to Paige about it was one of the most difficult things she’s ever done.

But she owes Thaliah an explanation. She owes her more than silence.

So, Dani opens her mouth and explains.

PAIGE IS GLUED to the game, her eyes darting between the players on the court and the scoreboard. Minnesota’s still in the lead, and every play sends her and Jalen into loud cheers, their voices blending into the roar of the crowd. She’s so caught up in the excitement that for a moment, she forgets about Dani and Thaliah being gone for a while now.

But as a timeout is called, the creeping feeling of unease seeps into her chest. It’s been too long since they left. Paige starts to wonder if something went wrong. Her mind drifts to outrageous scenarios like Thaliah jumping Dani in the bathroom or the pair rage-screaming at one another. She should’ve gone with them, Paige thinks, her foot tapping anxiously as she debates whether she should go check on them.

Just as she’s about to make a decision, Paige catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head and sees them—Thaliah and Dani walking down the aisle toward their seats. As they get closer, Paige notices the remnants of tears on both of their faces, their eyes bloodshot and a bit puffy, like they’ve both been crying.

Her stomach tightens. Did something happen?

But then she sees something else—something that surprises her. They’re smiling. Not big, exaggerated smiles, but small, genuine ones, the kind that tell her things aren’t as bad as they seem.

When they sit back down, Dani takes her spot next to Paige, and Thaliah settles back into her seat on the end. Paige’s eyes flit between the two of them, trying to gauge the situation. She can’t help but blurt out, “Uh, is everything okay?”

Dani and Thaliah exchange a tiny smile before Dani turns to Paige. Her smile is soft, and before Paige can process it, Dani’s pinky hooks around hers. It’s the smallest gesture, but it sends a jolt through Paige, her heart pounding twice as fast as before. She can barely focus on anything else, her eyes fixed on their intertwined fingers. She did it before with Dani, in the car, but it means so much more to Paige when it’s the Callan girl initiating it.

“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice light, like a weight has been lifted. “We’re great.”

Paige exhales in relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension she didn’t even realize she was holding slips away. She glances over at Jalen, who seems to have noticed the shift too. His eyebrows raise for a moment before he grins, the same ease settling over him as well.

With that, the atmosphere around them changes. The tension that had been hanging in the air for most of the night dissolves, replaced with a warmth that feels almost nostalgic. It’s like things are finally starting to feel normal again, like the cracks between them have truly started to mend. Paige doesn’t know what exactly happened between Dani and Thaliah in that bathroom, but she can tell it’s something important—something that has brought them closer, and by extension, all of them closer.

Now, they’re all locked in on the game again, but this time, the mood is lighter, more carefree. Laughing, cheering, yelling. Paige is wrapped up in it all—Jalen’s infectious energy, Dani’s quiet giggling beside her, Thaliah’s occasional smile.

When the Timberwolves win, the place erupts, and so do they. Jalen’s on his feet, yelling like he’s won the game himself. Dani and Paige share a wide grin, their pinkies still linked, and even Thaliah’s laughing and cheering now.

The ride home is great, too, the tension from the day dissolved into laughter and easy conversation. Paige can’t stop smiling, her heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. Jalen’s blasting music, and he and Thaliah are in the middle of a ridiculous debate about the best Timberwolves player of all time, while Dani chimes in with little comments that show her lack of NBA knowledge (but, it’s okay, Paige has to give it to her—Dani’s much more versed on the women’s side of things). It feels like old times, like everything is clicking back into place, and Paige can’t help but soak it in.

Jalen drops them off first, pulling into Paige’s driveway. She and Dani both wave at him and Thaliah as they drive away. The car’s taillights fade into the distance, leaving just the two of them standing in the driveway under the quiet suburban night sky.

Suddenly, the lively energy from the car ride fades into something softer, quieter. The silence between them feels heavier now, almost awkward, but not in a bad way—just charged. Paige feels the weight of it, a kind of tension that makes her hyper-aware of how close they’re standing, the cool night air brushing against her skin.

They both glance over at Dani’s house next door. It’s dark, a single light on in the kitchen, and Paige wonders if Dani is going to head back home now. She doesn’t want her to. The idea of the night ending like this feels wrong somehow. Paige shifts on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to find the right words without sounding desperate or clingy.

“So, uh,” Paige starts, her voice quiet, “you wanna… come inside? I mean, we could, like, have a sleepover or something. You know, like old times.”

She bites her lip, not wanting to pressure Dani but also not wanting to be without her. She half-expects Dani to hesitate or maybe even say no, to come up with some excuse about being tired or needing to go home. But to her surprise, Dani doesn’t hesitate at all. Instead, she smiles softly at Paige, her eyes warm and familiar in a way that makes Paige’s chest flutter.

“Sure,” Dani says, shrugging like it’s the easiest decision in the world. “I told my dad I was staying at Serena’s house anyway.”

Paige grins, a laugh bubbling up before she can stop it. “That bitch,” she says, shaking her head, knowing Serena has no idea she’s covering for Dani tonight, especially because the pair are certainly not friends anymore.

Dani laughs too, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that bitch.”

The air feels lighter now, the awkwardness between them disappearing as they head toward the front door. Paige unlocks it as quietly as she can, her heart beating a little faster at the thought of spending the night with Dani, just like they used to. It’s been so long since things were simple between them. So much has changed, but right now, it feels like they’ve found a piece of that simplicity again.

Inside, the house is dark and still. Paige’s dad and Drew must already be asleep, and she’s careful to keep the noise to a minimum as they slip upstairs to her room. When they reach her bedroom, Paige flips on the lamp by her bedside, casting a warm glow over the space. Dani immediately flops onto the bed like she belongs there, and Paige follows, laying down next to her.

They’re both quiet for a moment, just staring at the ceiling, the comfort of being back in each other’s space washing over them. Paige turns her head, looking at Dani from the side, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You want pajamas?”

“Sure,” Dani says, voice soft and relaxed.

Paige gets up, heading to her dresser and grabbing one of her oversized basketball t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. She tosses them to Dani, who sits up to catch them, and then Paige pulls out her own pajamas. She starts changing, pulling off her hoodie and t-shirt, when she glances back at Dani.

Dani’s back is to her, bare as she pulls off her own shirt to change into Paige’s. The lamplight casts a soft glow on her skin, and for a second too long, Paige’s eyes linger. She doesn’t mean to stare, but something about the sight of Dani’s bare back, the curve of her shoulder blades, the way her hair falls loosely against her neck, makes her pause. Fuck.

Paige’s breath catches, her fingers frozen mid-way through pulling off her hoodie. She blinks, quickly looking away, shaking her head to clear the sudden rush of thoughts. She tells herself to get it together, to not think of Dani quite like that quite yet. She needs more time.

Paige turns back around, facing the opposite direction as she finishes changing, tugging on her own pajama shirt and shorts. By the time she’s done, she feels a little more in control of herself, though the memory of Dani’s bare back is still burned into her mind.

When she faces her bed again, Dani is already lying back down on the comforter, now dressed in Paige’s clothes. The sight of Dani in her shirt, her shorts hanging loosely on Dani’s hips, does something to Paige, makes her stomach flip in a way that’s both exciting and terrifying.

But she pushes the feeling aside, climbing into bed next to Dani. And it’s not long before they’re curled up under the covers, watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—Dani’s pick, of course. It’s one of those movies she’s obsessed with, knows every line by heart. Normally, Paige would tease her about it, making fun of how she could watch it a million times, but right now, she can’t even think about anything other than how close they are.

Her room is freezing—like, Minnesota-in-the-dead-of-winter kind of freezing—and they’ve naturally started gravitating toward each other for warmth. Dani’s pressed up against Paige, her head resting on the blonde’s shoulder, her arm draped lazily across Paige’s waist. Paige has one arm around the brunette, and as much as she’s trying to focus on the movie, trying to lock her eyes on the screen, it’s hard. Really hard.

Because Dani’s skin is warm. Her legs are tangled with Paige’s under the blankets, her breath soft and steady against Paige’s neck, and all of it is making the basketball player’s heart race in ways she’s desperately trying to ignore. She tells herself it’s just because it’s cold, because this is what best friends do, but her body is betraying her. Every time Dani shifts, every time her fingers brush against Paige’s side, it feels like a shot of electricity running through the blonde, and suddenly, the cold is the least of her worries.

Paige swallows, forcing herself to focus on the movie. She’s watching Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson argue about something stupid on the screen, but her mind’s not there. It’s on Dani. Paige has got this growing warmth in her chest, and it’s spreading fast, heating up every part of her.

She tries to push the thoughts out of her head. Dani’s been through so much, and the last thing Paige wants to do is push her or make her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t even know if Dani’s ready for anything after everything that happened with her dad and… well, everything else. She doesn’t want to be the one to rush her into anything, not when she’s finally here, back in Paige’s bed, back with Paige.

But then Dani shifts again, snuggling closer, and Paige feel the smoothness of her thigh against her own. She can’t help it; her heart skips a beat. She take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it’s getting harder to think straight. The scent of Dani’s shampoo, the way her hand rests on Paige’s stomach—it’s all too much.

The blonde turns her head slightly, glancing down at Dani. She’s watching the movie, but Paige can tell she’s not fully focused either. Her eyes flicker to Paige’s, and in the dim light from the TV, the Bueckers girl can see something there—something that makes her stomach flip.

For a second, they just stare at each other, the space between them shrinking by the second. Paige’s heart pounds so hard she swears the girl beside her can hear it. But this is it. Paige knows it, and she can’t look away. The way Dani’s looking at her—it’s like everything that’s been building between them for weeks is finally about to snap.

And then it does.

Surprisingly, Dani’s the one who moves first. She leans in, closing the gap between them, and presses her lips to Paige’s. It’s soft at first, tentative, like she’s testing the waters, but the second Paige feels the warmth of her mouth on her own, she’s gone. Her brain short-circuits, and all the restraint she’s been trying to maintain disappears.

Paige kisses her back, probably a little too enthusiastically, but she can’t help it. One of her hands instinctively moves to the back of Dani’s neck, Paige’s fingers tangling in the girl’s brown hair as she pulls her closer, deepening the kiss. Dani tastes like the strawberry chapstick Paige watched her put on earlier, and her lips are soft and warm and everything the blonde has been dying to feel for longer than she cares to admit.

Dani’s kissing her back now, harder, her body pressing into Paige’s as they lie there, tangled in the sheets. Paige’s mind screams at her to stop, to slow down, but she can’t. She doesn’t want to. Her heart pounds in her chest, and every nerve in her body is on fire. The feel of Dani, the warmth of her skin, the way she moves against Paige—it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and all the point guard wants is more.

Paige knows she should stop. She knows that if she’s not careful, she’ll scare Dani away again, just like before. She can’t mess this up. She can’t. But still, she doesn’t stop. She feels Dani’s fingers gripping her shirt, pulling Paige closer, and it feels like Dani doesn’t want Paige to stop either.

So she doesn’t.

Instead, she deepens the kiss, her hand sliding from the back of Dani’s neck down to her waist, holding her there like she’s the only thing keeping her grounded. Dani lets out a soft sigh against Paige’s lips, and it sends a shiver down the blonde’s spine. God.

In a sudden shift, Paige find herself on top of Dani, her knees sinking into the bed as she presses down against the brunette. Paige’s hands dig into Dani’s waist, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. Paige can’t help but smile against Dani’s mouth, a thrill washing over her. Dani’s hands find their way into Paige’s hair, tangling in the strands, and the blonde shivers at the sensation. Dani’s so responsive, so willing, and it makes Paige feel exhilarated and relieved all at once.

As she kisses Dani, a wave of pure elation washes over Paige, and she realizes just how much she’s longed for this. She didn’t know how much she needed her like this until now. Paige can feel Dani’s warmth radiating up through and into Paige’s own body, and every touch ignites a spark that sends the blonde’s heart racing.

Paige starts to kiss along the Callan girl’s cheek, trailing her lips down her jawline, savoring the way Dani reacts. Her sighs are intoxicating, a melody Paige never wants to stop hearing. When she kisses along the brunette’s neck, a soft gasp escapes her lips, and it fills Paige with a sense of pride that she can elicit that kind of response from her. It’s fucking perfect.

Paige’s hands instinctively wander beneath the hem of Dani’s—well, technically her own—shirt, fingers gliding across her soft skin. The moment Paige realizes Dani’s not wearing a bra, her breath hitches. A rush of heat floods through her, a mix of surprise and unrestrained want that makes her heart race even faster.

Paige finds one of Dani’s breasts, wrapping her hand around it. She squeezes lightly, her thumb brushing over Dani’s nipple. Dani’s hand tightens in Paige’s hair and she’s pulling Paige back so that their lips are connected once more. Paige’s tongue slips its way into Dani’s mouth and she kneads her breast again, making Dani whimpers a little into the kiss. It only makes Paige kiss her harder. Dani’s lips feel like home against Paige’s, and the blonde can’t get enough of the taste of her, the softness that send shivers down her spine. Paige’s hands roam over Dani’s body, exploring, seeking, and finding every inch of skin that sends electric jolts through them both.

As Paige traces her fingers along Dani’s waist, she feels almost a magnetic pull drawing her lower. Her hand eventually finds the waistband of the loose pajama shorts Dani’s wearing, and Paige pauses there, heart racing, uncertainty flooding her mind. She’s kissing along the brunette’s neck, savoring her warmth, but Paige’s thoughts are tangled in fear. She doesn’t want to push Dani into something she isn’t ready for. The last thing she wants is to scare her away after they’ve fought so hard to get back here.

Paige breathes deeply, stealing a glance at Dani’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But Dani doesn’t pull away, doesn’t hesitate. Instead, her grip on Paige’s hair tightens, and the blonde can feel Dani’s hips lift slightly against her, a silent permission that sends Paige’s heart soaring.

Emboldened by Dani’s response, Paige slips her fingers beneath the waistband of the shorts, her pulse quickening at the contact. She’s careful, her movements tentative as she goes beneath the hem of Dani’s underwear, too. Paige finds Dani’s clit easily enough, circling it slowly, carefully. The way Dani gasps at the touch is intoxicating, and Paige swallows the sound with another deep kiss, savoring the taste of Dani’s moans against her mouth.

Paige’s fingers move with more purpose now, circling Dani’s clit a couple more times before sliding her hand down slightly, pushing her middle finger inside. Paige hears Dani’s breath catch and so does her own as she feels Dani’s wetness coat her finger.

Paige has done this with other girls, done this with Dani once before, too—that summer night before everything went to shit. But this feels different; it feels better, deeper, as if all the months apart have heightened every sensation. Paige revels in it, enjoying the way Dani moves beneath her touch, the way she leans into Paige, wanting more.

Dani’s fingers are still tangled in Paige’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her on, and every gasp and sigh she releases ignites something within Paige. Paige’s lips linger along Dani’s jaw as she pushes her hand deeper into her pajama shorts, her middle finger pumping in and out of Dani’s entrance slowly. Paige is hyper-aware of the way the Callan girl’s breath quickens, how it becomes shaky and uneven as Paige’s finger moves slowly but surely.

Dani gasps again, mumbling as she shifts beneath the blonde a little, “P.” Her voice is desperate, like she needs more.

Paige hums, nodding against Dani, knowing exactly what to do. She slips another finger inside, stretching Dani out, pushing in and out, in and out, building a rhythm. Dani’s lips part and a moan slips out from beneath them. God, Paige could get lost in the sounds. Each whimper and moan that escapes Dani’s lips sends a thrill through the blonde, a rush of satisfaction that makes her want to hear more. It’s as if every sound that Dani makes is a piece of music Paige never knew she needed, and she wants to hit repeat, to keep her best friend whimpering like that for as long as possible. Each gasp, each sigh, it’s like a drug, and Paige is completely hooked.

Nevertheless, she knows that they have to be quiet. Her dad’s room is right next door, and Paige has no interest in waking him up and having him realize what exactly is going on in his daughter’s room. So, she presses her mouth back on Dani’s, swallowing her moans, humming in approval at the feeling.

Paige pushes her fingers deeper, a little harder, feeling the way Dani shivers beneath her. When Paige feels Dani lift her hips to meet her hand, bucking up, Paige knows she’s found the rhythm and the spot Dani needs. Paige smiles into their kiss, her teeth nipping a little at the brunette’s bottom lip. Dani responds eagerly, her hand that’s on the back of Paige’s neck pulling her closer, until there’s practically no space to even breathe. Paige doesn't care.

“Like that?” Paige whispers against Dani’s lips, keeping her voice low and steady, wanting Dani to know she can be honest with her. Paige feels Dani nod against her, her eyes half-lidded and glazed over as she manages to hum out a soft, “Mhm-hm.” Paige grins a little at the response, her tongue slipping back into Dani’s mouth as she kisses her harder.

Paige focuses on the spot she’s found, her fingers pressing in just the right way. The way Dani arches her back and digs her nails into the blonde’s neck tells Paige everything she needs to know. She curls her fingers in a come hither motion and it makes Dani’s hips stutter a little, the brunette gasping Paige’s name into her mouth.

“Doin’ so good for me, Dan,” Paige encourages, her voice barely above a whisper, urging her best friend on. She can feel Dani tightening around her fingers, feel her getting wetter and wetter with each thrust of Paige’s fingers. Paige hits that spot again and again, her thumb reaching up to circle Dani’s clit.

Dani’s breathing becomes more erratic, quick bursts of air escaping her lips as Paige continues to work her fingers, pushing her closer and closer. “So pretty, Dani,” Paige murmurs, even though she’s not sure if the girl can hear her over the sound of her own gasps. But Paige needs her to know—she deserves to hear it, to feel it in every part of her. “You’re so pretty.”

Suddenly, Paige feels Dani’s body tense, feels the way she’s clenching around her fingers. Dani’s nails are digging into the back of Paige’s neck, her grip tightening. Paige works her fingers harder, faster, hitting that spot again and again and again until her hand is cramping, but it doesn’t deter her. She keeps going until Dani’s muttering, “God, Paige, I’m gonna—” and she’s gushing around Paige’s fingers.

Dani’s body shudders beneath the blonde, her hips lifting instinctively to meet Paige’s touch as she helps her ride through her orgasm. Paige is lost in the way Dani’s body reacts, the way she clings to her as if she’s her lifeline. It’s everything Paige has ever wanted.

As she finishes, Paige feels Dani relax against her, her body softening, and Paige pulls her fingers out slowly. She pulls away from Dani a little, to see her face. Dani’s smiling lazily at her, and it makes Paige smile, too. Paige leans down to kiss her again, deeply, savoring the way their lips fit together.

I love you. Paige wants to say it. She’s never wanted to say anything more. But she doesn’t, instead keeps her mouth on Dani’s, afraid that she’ll ruin the moment and scare Dani away.

As the kiss ends, Paige gently rolls off of Dani, settling so they’re lying side by side. Dani’s arm drapes over Paige’s waist, and Paige pulls her closer, the feel of Dani’s steady breathing against her chest soothing in a way that grounds her.

They’re both quiet now, the sounds of the movie filling the room. Dani nestles into Paige, her face resting in the crook of Paige’s neck, and it makes Paige’s heart swell. There’s something so innocent, so peaceful about the way Dani clings to her, trusting and content.

It doesn’t take long before Dani’s breaths become slow and even, and Paige realizes she’s fallen asleep. Paige glances down at her, taking in the sight of her best friend—her person—so calm and safe in her arms. Dani looks so different like this, her usual guard completely down, her features soft and untroubled.

But as Paige watches her sleep, her thoughts begin to drift. She can’t help but think about all the shit Dani’s been through—the conversion therapy, the isolation, the fear. A tightness forms in Paige’s chest, a knot of guilt that’s been there for months. She knows some of it is her fault. She was the one that kissed Dani on the porch that night, right in front of the camera. Maybe if she’d waited until they got inside, Dani’s dad would’ve never found out and none of this would have happened.

Paige’s jaw clenches as she thinks about Dani’s father. The man who sent her to that camp, who made her believe there was something wrong with her. The anger that bubbles up inside Paige is almost overwhelming. She hates him for what he’s done to Dani, for the pain he’s caused her.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of Dani’s head, her fingers brushing lightly through her hair. Paige just wants to protect her. Keep her safe. Keep her happy. And most of all, keep her away from him—from the man who nearly destroyed her. Still, she knows that’s unrealistic. Dani lives with her father—he provides for her, he’s her guardian and shes still a minor.

Paige sighs, tightening her grip around Dani, holding her a little closer, a silent promise to herself that she’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Dani never feels that kind of pain again. She’ll be there, she’ll fight for her, and she won’t let Dani’s father mess with what they have.

As the weight of the day starts to pull at her, Paige closes her eyes, resting her cheek against Dani’s hair. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days plays on, but Paige isn’t paying attention to it anymore. All that matters is this—Dani here with her, the two of them together.

[simpingforheros]

Bring Me To Life

Pairing: Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Female! Reader

Summary: Destroy the Batman and get his companion back? Jason almost didn't believe Slade until... Warnings: Usage of female pronouns, Nudity (NO smut), Swearing, Character Death, Angst, Resurrection, Infantization ( I didn't know how to better describe this), Unhealthy relationship dynamics, Kinda Dark/Obsessive! Jason, Mentions Electroshock therapy, Implied Brainwashing, Slade being a creep, Mentions of Drug Abuse, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Child Homelessness and unsafe situations, SPOILERS for Death in the Family (Comic 1988) and Arkham Knight.

Author's Note: Hiya Everyone, This is the first fanfic I've written in a while and the christianing fic for this account. I may start a casual little series with this, but I don't know yet. Also any comic and game inaccuracies are either because I forgot or I adjusted it to fit the story.

Also while this post is mostly safe for work, MINORS DNF AND PLEASE READ WARNINGS. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE ANYONE TO STEAL MY WORK OR REPOST IT ON OTHER SITES.

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It was supposed to be him...

Those dark nights he had spent alone on the streets as a child didn't seem so bad looking back on it. Jason understood struggle even when he had lived with his parents who spent grocery money on alcohol and drugs. Living on the streets didn't feel so much worse, especially since he had... "Jason, Mr. Accetta gave me some scraps from dinner rush today! There's even a whole pizza in here!"

Her. His one friend had since he was thrown into this harsh world. She was the only person he knew at the time to never stop smiling or finding a positive outlook on things. He couldn't even remember when they met, but he could hardly remember them being apart.

Whether he was stealing or fighting, she was there as a faithful lookout or a willing accomplice. She taught him how to take tires off of cars like her granddad taught her and he taught her how to throw a punch like his dad used to throw. An unstoppable duo who ran the alley as well as two 11-year-olds could.

The harsh winter nights they spent crowding together were his favorite memories from that time. Even with the bite of Gotham's winds at their toes, his partner would never falter to talk about anything and everything as he listened. She would talk about her dead grandparents a lot and all the stories she had with them before they passed away, but his mind couldn't recall them at all. He just remembers the constant dream that she told him every night.

"One day, Jay, I'm gonna have enough money and get an apartment in Old Gotham..." Jason's nose turns up as he listens to his friend as he bites on his food. "Why Old Gotham? Isn't it just falling apart?"

She giggles as she pulls the oversized coat closer to her shivering body. The jacket was from a relative but the fabric lost those memories as its fibers were now bones. She still had it even after she left the streets...

"Because it's the most beautiful place in the world...I will get an apartment someday and you and I will live there. We can even get like a cat or something."

The familiar burn on Jason's face blooms as he asks, "Why would you want me there?"

"Because it wouldn't be my dream home unless you're there with me."

He wouldn't find out until a few years later that her grandparents used to live in Old Gotham until her grandfather died and her grandmother had to move as she would unknowingly follow her husband not even a year later...

Those nights in the streets melted into nights spent in the warmth of Wayne manor. As the two thieves became kings after a faithful night with the Batmobile, Jason was brought into the world of crime fighting along with his closest friend. As they trained and donned their capes, She would show a new side of herself to Jason. The overly happy young girl from the streets became an anxious teenager as he became angerier.

"Jason..." Her voice woke him up in the darkest of nights. His body ached from the nightly fights from the previous day as he turned to see a familiar sight.

A now 14-year-old Y/N standing in the crack of the door. Her fidgeting figure indicated all he needed to know before he raised his blanket as she scurried to get in the bed. This was a ritual that started when they moved in. Both would grow anxious at night as they went from the open streets to a large, confining manor. Alfred almost had given up on trying to scold the teens as they were found sharing a bed more times than being separated.

As she curled into his side as much as she could without hurting him, he could practically hear her mind tinkering as her E/C eyes stared into his chest.

There wasn't the need to discuss what was on her mind. At least not right now. She was concerned about the growing tension between Bruce and Jason. He was becoming reckless and Bruce was having none of it with her often getting dragged into the middle of the fights.

He hated that he never tried more...

It shouldn't have surprised him when all the conflict had finally caused a break in the family. Especially when Jason began looking for his birth mother. Y/N tried to be supportive of him as he investigated his leads. Those leads eventually led to Jason reuniting with Bruce as he investigated a possible arms trade in Lebanon. The reconciliation and the prospect of finding his mother left him blind to any form of common sense, but what kind of common sense could a fifteen-year-old make in the life they lived?

He should have listened to her concerns when they finally found Sheila Haywood, his real mother. Y/N had a bad feeling from the start but he dismissed her worries. Jason had no clue that the night he was supposed to meet with Sheila was gonna end up being one of the worst nights of his life....

"Jason, maybe you should wait for Bruce to be here so he can come with you." She suggested softly.

His eyes roll as he adjusts his costume. "Because it's none of his business. I'm just meeting with my mom and talking out some stuff..."

He didn't tell her about the blackmailing he witnessed earlier that day between his mother and the Joker. But, he would find out later that she already knew about it through Bruce.

Her hand reaches for his shoulder and pulls him around to face her. "I'm serious. You shouldn't meet with a woman you barely know in some fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere!"

Jason can remember the hurt he felt when he heard her snap at him, Oh, how angry he got with her when all she wanted was to protect him. He remembers yelling at her the worst thing he thought he could say to her.

Why the fuck did he ever say that to her?

"I'm sorry your parents didn't want anything to fucking do with you, but I'm not gonna let your bitter ass ruin my shot to be with mine."

He remembers the hurt that filled her eyes and the string of regret pooling in his gut. With a fake smile on her face and tears pooling in her eyes, Y/N says softly,

"Okay...I'm sorry," The sharp sting in his neck as she pressed the vial of sedatives Bruce gave her into his veins. "I'm sorry to do this, Jason, but Bruce said you wouldn't go down that easily."

Jason couldn't remember what he said after the spark of betrayal hit him, but he hated himself that the last time he saw those eyes they were clouded with the tears he caused....

"Y/N! Please talk to me!" Jason begs into the coms as he rod on the back of the motorbike with Bruce.

He should have known. Her instincts are never wrong and he doubted her.

When Bruce found him unconscious and told him about how Joker was involved in all of this, Jason should have known that it was all a trap. His mother wasn't a poor blackmailed soul, she was a conniving bitch who profitted.

He also should have known that Y/N was gonna go meet with Sheila instead of him. Where the Joker was waiting for her.

"Y/N, please. Please be okay...." He begged to the coms as he can only think about what he said to her the last time they spoke.

"J...Jason...."

"Y/N!" Relief washed over him like a wave as he heard her voice. Her broken pained moaned of his voice made him sick as he tried to at least rationalized that at least she was alive. "Don't worry, honey. We know where you are and we're coming to help you."

He didn't know that she was laying battered and broken against the locked door as she stared at the bomb that was ticking away on the wall. Her labored breaths blocked out the ticking on the comms as she whispers out.

00:12

"Do you remember the apartment?..."

"What apartment? The one you talked about in the alley? Why are you-?"

She interupts him, he can hear the familiar curl of her smile in her pained voice as she whispered,

"I wanted it to have a window facing the east end...the stars always looked pretty over there..."

00:10

"Y/N, what are you-"

"I wanted one of those Tabby-looking cats like the ones we saw in the alleyway outside of Mr. Accetta's restaurant...Name it Frank after that old Italian fucker...I was hoping we could go back and actually buy dinner in that restaurant someday..."

00:08

"Are you okay? Why are you talking like this? We are almost there. I can see the building! We are almost here. I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU."

Jason's desperation was palpable as he heard his beloved talk like she was on her deathbed. His panic causes Bruce to drive faster as the Batcycle inches closer to the warehouse. "Jason"

00:04

"Jason, I love you...I have since I was 13..." She admits as her voice trembles. "I used to dream we would become the family we always wanted with each other...Thank you for being in my life and I'm sorry I let you down..."

00:03

"Y/N, I -"

00:02

"Wait!"

00:01

"Goodbye, Jason..."

.

.

.

It should have been him who died that night... It was supposed to be him. NOT HER.

Jason blamed himself for her death as soon as he helped pull her broken corpse out of the rubble. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't her. This wasn't his Batgirl. Not his best friend who would run around the manor with him or help him pickpocket pedo freaks on the street. This broken little girl that was in his adoptive father's arms wasn't his first love. She was a bright, kind light who protected her loved ones, not this broken shell who wore her skin...

But, it was her...

He blamed Bruce for it too. He was the one gave her the orders to keep Jason away from the warehouse. He had to have known that she was gonna go instead. Bruce should have known she was because she wanted to be wrong about Sheila so Jason could be happy...

He also blamed the Joker. He wanted that Clown dead... His opportunity presents itself after he tracks Joker down to an abandoned wing of Arkham trying to flee from blowing up a children's hospital.

Blinded by his rage and bloodlust, Jason went in alone and without any communication. Y/N would scold him in her grave as he fell for the trap, sealing him in a cycle of hell for a year.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What if I could?"

"Do what?"

"Bring her back. Would you be willing to work for Crane if I could bring back the little Batgirl?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knew it was bullshit.

Bringing back someone from the dead was impossible.

Jason would have been satisfied if his pseudo-partner/ prisoner, Deathstroke, just told him that he would be able to kill the Batman and wipe the hell hole that is Gotham off the face of the earth. He already dedicated a full year after his escape from Arkham to building his army.

His only regret during this time was not killing Joker himself. Even after all the torture and pain that clown did to him, he regretted not bashing the Joker's skull in after their last encounter as Slade helped him escape. It wouldn't have mattered to him at the time that Slade would have killed him because it wouldn't have been revenge for his own torture.

it would have been for Y/N. For the hell she faced that night. After a few months in Arkham, Jason almost accepted his torture as punishment for not dying that day for her because he experienced everything she felt. Every day he experienced everything she had to feel those short agonizing hours for an entire year. She must have been so scared and Jason couldn't save her.

The only thing that kept him from giving up was the memories he had of her and the burning hatred for those who caused her light to be snuffed out too soon.

He just wanted to feel that warmth again...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"If you can do that, then I'll burn the whole world to the ground for that fucking lunatic."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Please Jason. Let us help you!" Barbara Gordan begged from her cell as Jason snaps at her.

"THERE IS NO HELPING! I CAN FIX IT!"

Jason was manic. His men were being tugged around like dog toys by Batman and Slade had left him hours ago to attend some matter he didn't care to ask about. His time was running thin and he knows he needs to end this soon. It didn't help that those he didn't want involved are here as well like Barbara.

"Sir..." A militia soldier says as he nervously walks into the room. HIs men were already aware how stupid it was to come near him when he's in a crazed anger. Jason's head whipped at him like a feral man as he grits out.

"What is it?"

"Deathstroke is here...and he uh..."

Impatience reaches a boiling point as Jason raises his gun and shoots the militia solider in the head as Barbara shrieks. The red puddle of death fills the sterile room with lead as Deathstroke walts in. Jason turns his back towards him as places his helmet back into place.

"My, what a mess you made." Deathstroke mockingly scolds. The hidden smirk almost causes Jason to snap again.

"Where have you been? Batman is out there taking down my tanks faster than my men can repair them. You told m-!"

The Arkham Knight's monologue was intruppted as he turns to scold Slade by his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight before him. He swore that if he didn't hear Barbara's gasp and the whisper of fate's name, he would have woken up back in that dreaded wing of Arkham Asylum.

Slade chuckles as he rattles the chain in his hand as he says coyly, "What? Am I not allowed to go fetch your payment?"

Standing behind Deathstroke was a naked woman. Her tangled up (H/C) hair ran down her shoulders as her wide innocent eyes shined through the now white tendrils framing her face. Her body seemed more mature but all muscle mass she had was faded. Her face seemed aged but he recognized the curve of her nose and those lips he imagined smiling at him through his darkest moments.

"Y/N?" He helplessly calls out to her as he feels himself pulled towards her like a magnet.

If it wasn't for the stark white streak and gnarly, painful-looking scars on her body, Jason would have thought this was Scarecrow's fear toxin. It couldn't be possible, right? She was dead. He knew she was because he held her body. He felt how cold she was and watched how her lifeless eyes looked up to the ash ridden sky.

Those eyes now looked at him with no familiarity, but a childlike wonder as she naively smiles at him.

"How?" Was all the Arkham Knight could muster as he reaches to grab her. To pull her into his arms and never let her leave.

Deathstroke grabs the collar that was wrapped around her neck and yanks her back behind him as she chokes on her breath. He chuckles as he looks back into Jason's voiceless mask.

"The Lazarus Pit brought back her body." He explains as he hauntingly twirls the chain in his hand. "Of course, after you agreed to work with Crane, I brought her back immediately. Unfortunately, the poor thing suffered from Pit Madness."

A cruel smirk appears on Deathstrokes lips as he pushes the girl's hair back to reveal circular scars on her temples. Jason felt rage bubbling up in his throat as he recognized what those scars were.

Prolonged Electroshock Therapy

"You sick!" Before Jason could throw a punch, Slade places his gun on Y/N's forehead as he chuckles. The woman didn't even sense the danger as she continued to observe everyone with a curious eye. Jason immediately backs off as Slade continues.

"Of course. Her treatment did cause her to be cured of the madness but at the cost of her memories. She barely remembers how to take care of herself so you make it like that. Especially when you want to fuck her."

Jason was thankful for his mask as he would have killed him from his glare. To imply that she was just a potential fucktoy made him itch to bury this man in the deepest bowels of hell. As he quietly glares at him, Slade finally offers him the chain. The Arkham Knight accepts the chain as the assassin warns him,

"Now since you got your payment. You better keep your end of the deal..." His voice becomes threatening as he says.

"Because I can easily kill her just as I brought her back.'"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

AN: I was gonna write more, but I got exhausted so this is all I got. Let me know if it's a vibe or not.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT.

[innorogers]

Insomnia

Steve Rogers x OFC (You)

Summary: You couldn't sleep, and Steve neither. So you want to help him with a bedtime story. And he wants you forever.

Note: This is the first chapter of a series, but can be read as independent story. Links at the end of this chapter :)

To say you couldn't sleep is an understatement. You quite literally couldn't even close your eyes for the past few nights. 

It's not something you can control; your brain just works like this: challenges at work are the adrenaline that rushes to your mind, and it just won't calm down. 

So, a 13-hour shift wasn't enough to tire you out; insomnia hit so hard that you decided to head down to the training room to try to drain all your energy.

As you made your way down the stairs, you could hear the distant thudding of fists against a punching bag. 

Upon pushing the door slowly open, you weren't surprised to be met with Steve...without punching gloves.

God, you felt for those knuckles. How can this man be so careless with himself? Not that you have any say in that, of course.

You nodded as he turned around, surprised to see anyone at this hour.

"Cap." you said respectfully, with a tiny voice, looking at the floor as if there's anything wonderful there.

Steve walked over, sweat glistening across his forehead and cheeks, his shirt clinging to his now drenched chest.

"Oh, hi..." He smiled upon seeing you, grabbing a towel from the bench and wiping the sweat from his face. "It's late, what are you doing here?"

"Um..." You didn't think he would talk with this familiarity, but you smiled back. "I couldn't sleep, um...so I just thought I'd try to train myself."

"Ah...insomnia, right?" Steve chuckled slightly, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a few swigs. "I used to suffer with it quite badly too. I used to go to bed and just...stare at the ceiling all night."

"Oh my god." Your reaction was real. "That sounds...terrible."

Steve nodded and slumped down on the bench, leaning back as he took another sip of water. "It is...the only way I got around it was to exhaust myself before bed, but I'm sure you don't need me telling you that."

That statement struck you a little bit. You couldn't help but feel so bad for him. "Cap...that sounds draining. Have you been like that, since...always?"

Steve nodded once again, his hand running through his hair and pushing it back. "Unfortunately, been like it as long as I can remember. I only recently started trying to control it - the army didn't exactly care much about my sleeping patterns..."

"What?" Now you were horrified. "That's so awful. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's alright," Steve reassured with a small smile, his eyes locking with yours for a moment. "I'm used to it. Plus, the army needed me to be the best I could, even if that meant I had to run on 0 hours of sleep."

"Wait, what? Steve, I meant, Cap...that's, that's not right!"

Steve chuckled softly and looked down at his feet for a moment. "Yeah...yeah, I guess it isn't." He was quiet for a moment before looking back up at you with a small smile. "I appreciate the concern, though."

You felt your cheeks were starting to burn, so you looked down again. "Have you tried any pills?" you asked as you watched yourself reflected in the mirror. Oh, you looked so stupid with your gym gear. What were you even doing with a towel and a bottle of water?

Steve nodded, scratching his temple slightly with his thumb. "I've tried just about everything: pills, sleep therapy, meditation, music, literally everything you could think of to help me sleep. I can maybe get 3 hours of sleep max, but that's if I'm absolutely exhausted."

You looked at him. You couldn't believe it. This man, you saw him in and out every day from this campus. He went out so energized, and came back full of scars and wounds, and he couldn't even get some quality rest.

You couldn't help but approach him, your voice as soft as you ever knew it: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He paused for a moment, looking at you with a quizzical look for a few seconds before his lips quickened up into a small smile. "I mean...there is one thing I could think of..."

"What?"

"Sit next to me." Steve patted a space on the bench beside him, a small smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "Keep me company."

"Sure." 

You didn't even doubt it, and you sat next to him, thinking you were willing to talk for 60 hours in a row if that's what it took to get this man to sleep. 

"Wanna talk about it?"

Steve leaned back against the bench, resting his hands on the metal beside him as he tilted his head slightly to look at you. "There's not much to talk about. My mind just...won't switch off."

"Hmm...maybe, a bedtime story?"

Steve laughed incredulously at the idea, the noise coming from his chest filling the silent room. He found it extremely amazing that he hadn't heard his own laughter like that in a long time.

"A bedtime story? Don't you think I'm a little old for that? I think last time I heard one was… 96 years ago?"

"Well..." God, his laugh was just...magical. You smiled back as your heart melted. "You never know, right?"

Steve chuckled softly once more, his head tilting back as he looked up at the ceiling, a smirk on his face. "You know what...sure. I'll take a bedtime story."

"Alright..." You started laughing too, your frenzied brain starting to do its thing: spinning really fast. 

"Here I go..."

Steve shifted so he was facing you more, leaning forwards with one elbow on his knee. His face was expectant albeit a little amused, and he wondered what kind of a bedtime story you were going to tell.

"Once upon a time, there was a super soldier..."

Steve raised an eyebrow, a small chuckle escaping his lips at the start of the story. "Alright...a super soldier...continue."

"...Who couldn't sleep, so he ran every night up to the hill and asked a fairy living there: 'Hey, little princess, why can't I sleep?' And the fairy replied: 'Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Is it because the stars are too shiny?' And the soldier looked up at the sky full of stars and shrugged his shoulders: 'Probably...?'"

Steve’s lips formed a soft curve at the beginning of the story, his smile growing with each sentence. 

"How do you know this story?"

You winked at him. "I'll tell you that at the end. “

“So...the fairy thinks about it for a second and says: Well, maybe I can help you. And she goes up, up, up in the sky and starts to collect all the stars one by one, but there are so many of them! And she's so anxious because she wants the super soldier to get some sleep before the army calls...you know, those dumbasses..."

Steve's head tilted back once again as he laughed out loud, shaking his head at the ludicrous but somehow lovely story that was being told, and for some unknown reason, it was making him feel slightly relaxed. 

"That's a lot of stars, huh?"

"Yup..." you heard your voice, and you noticed your joy in making him happy or bringing a little peace to his mind. 

You continued, "So the fairy gets a brilliant idea: 'I'll call every kid on the planet and ask them to wish upon a shiny star, so the stars will fall, and every kid is happy with their wishes granted, and the sky is darkened, and the super soldier gets some sleep.'"

"Every kid? How would they all know to wish upon a star?"

"Because..." You looked at him as if saying, 'duh dude...'

"That's what kids do, didn't you wish upon a star? Ever?"

"Well…I'm not sure I ever did...I…really don’t remember..." He sighed nostalgically.

You looked at him. You wanted to say, "Me neither," but instead, you just responded in a comforting voice, "Well...If you don't sleep tomorrow either, I promise you, I'll go and fetch a star for you."

Steve smiled back at you, your words sending a strange yet warm feeling through his heart. 

"You'd go as far as stealing a star for me?"

And your damn brain worked so fast you didn't even think about what you were saying.

"I'll get every star in the universe for you if you'd ask."

Steve's breath hitched in his throat, there was a strange feeling through his stomach and slightly increasing his heart rate. 

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you before he spoke again, his own words surprising him. 

"Do you promise...you'd get them all?"

Your heartbeat just stopped at that glance of his, but you nodded. 

"Yes, I do."

Steve took another moment to compose himself, a wonderstruck hitted him as he looked you in the eyes. He was searching your face for any hint of sarcasm or lies, but all he could see was what looked like true honesty. 

"You make a powerful promise...you sure you can keep it?"

You laughed. "What, you don't believe me?"

At the sound of your laugh, Steve's breath hitched in his throat, the noise stirring something deep within him which he attempted to push down. But it was so strong.

"It's not that...I just don't want you to promise something you can't keep."

"I'll keep it." He probably didn't know it, but you were actually vowing, "Every word of it." You replied in a soft voice.

There it was again, that tickle through Steve's stomach. Butterflies everywhere. They came from the air that he breathed, through his chest, to his entire body. 

He smiled at you, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, Steve actually believed someone when they promised him something. 

"I'm holding you to that, you know."

You got lost in his eyes. God, there’s an entire ocean in his eyes. You held your tongue before you said that, so you cleared your throat. "I haven't finished my story."

Steve shifted once again to face you, a smile still present on his face. "Continue...tell me the rest of the story."

"So the fairy gets all the stars of the sky to fulfill the kids' wishes, and the sky finally darkens. She goes back to the soldier, but before arriving, she went to heaven and borrowed some feathers from the wings of the most beautiful angel. 'It's for a kid that can't sleep,' she explains to the angel, and with the feathers and her fairy magic, she makes the most comfortable pillow in the world. And only then, she goes back to the soldier and gives him the pillow: 'There, you will have a good sleep, honey.' And so, the soldier finally gets some rest. The end."

Steve listened to the rest of the story intently, that strange feeling in his stomach returning as waves of a tide.

Damn butterflies. Now they even left a trace of golden glitter shiny things.

He wants those butterflies to stop, but he fails, his eyes locking with yours. "You are good...you are a truly excellent storyteller, you know that?"

"I know, right?" You laughed, and also lowered your voice. "But I'll tell you a little secret."

He chuckled as he leaned back against the bench, arms crossed across his chest. As he was trying to hide something, to push back on something. To take distance. 

"A secret? I like the sound of that."

"You're my only and first audience."

Steve cocked an eyebrow, his smirk returning and his arms uncrossing. "You mean this is the first time you've even told someone that story?"

"Or any story."

Steve's eyes widened at your words, the smirk on his face growing even more. 

"You've never told a story before...like, ever?"

"Ever."

Steve chuckled softly at your response, shaking his head slightly. "You mean to tell me that ever since you were a kid, you've never told another person a story? Not even when you were little?"

You were going to say something, but kept quiet and smiled.

Steve was quiet for a moment before looking at you. 

"Most people tell everyone stories...they don't save up a story for years and years and years to tell just one person...just one?"

You blinked at him. "It's only for super soldiers who can't sleep at night, and you are the first one I've met. But...if you happen to know any other super soldier who is also a superhero and also happens to be...you know, Captain America, the greatest avenger of all times...tell him I have a great bedtime story to share with him in case he can't sleep and is training in the tower at this time of the night...otherwise...then yes, you are the only one."

Steve couldn't help but laugh at your response, the sound filling the room once again and that pang through his stomach returning. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he looked at you, a smirk on his face. 

"I'll let you know if I see any super soldiers around."

"Tell him that's a hell of a bedtime story."

Steve chuckled again, his smirk growing wider as he gave you a nod. "You think he'll like it?"

"I don't know, what do you think?" you shrugged your shoulders.

Steve paused, his eyes locking with yours and that feeling in his stomach returning once again. 

He slowly licked across his lips and was quiet for a moment before answering. 

"I think he'll like the story...I think he'll like it a lot..."

You paused for a long moment before you moved your sight out of the window. 

"Well, that would make me very happy, you know?"

Steve smiled back at you, that warm feeling in his stomach slowly spreading through his entire body. There was something about you that he just couldn't quite put his finger on - you made him feel strangely relaxed yet on edge all at once, and he couldn't quite explain it.

"Why?"

"Because..." Your response was honest and sincere. "I don't know, I guess...I guess I just wish all the good things for him."

Steve was silent, his eyes not able to move from your face as he listened intently. It was at this moment that strange pang in his chest became so prominent that it almost knocked the breath out of him. 

Your words were simple, yet they made his heart flutter. He didn't understand why, but he suddenly felt something he hadn't felt in years, a feeling so strong and overpowering yet so gentle.

Steve smiled, his voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper. 

"You...you really care about him...huh?"

You stayed quiet. This was weird, he was asking, yet you felt that those questions came from some kind of reflexive thought, that it was your inner voice asking you. 

So you answered, "I do. A lot."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment, the way you answered so quickly and so honestly made all hesitations and doubts disappear. He is not fighting anymore against it. He found himself looking at you intently, almost as if he were trying to read you. 

His heart rate slowly rose, and those butterflies flew and flew in circles all around within him.. 

He suddenly remembers that he didn't even know your name. You’re such a dumbass, Rogers. Captain America is just an excuse, this is the REAL reason you don’t get dates over 100 years. He tells himself. Could you be more stupid?

"I don’t even know your name." He says in an apologetic tone.

"I'm..." You thought about it and decided to go with your real name, not the one you were known for. 

Steve repeated your name silently to himself, letting it roll off his tongue and hearing the way it sounded as it left his lips. 

He paused for a moment, his face softened with a slight smile as he was saying a breathtaking thought.

"Beautiful name..."

"Thanks." And you blinked at him. "And you are...?"

A subtle laugh flickered on his face at your joke before replying, "Well...you probably know my name already, but...I'm Steve, Steve Rogers."

Your heartbeat skipped a dozen paces, but you played it cool. "I like your name too."

Steve's eyes widened at your words. He hesitated and tilted his head slightly, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he spoke gently. "You're not going to call me 'Cap' or 'Captain America'?"

"Do...do you prefer it?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face: "No...I'd prefer it if you just called me Steve...or Stevie."

"Does...anyone dare to call you Stevie?"

Steve chuckled, "No...no one dares, no...but I think I'd be willing to let you get away with it..."

"Alright then, only because you've asked."

Steve's smile widened, a small laugh escaping his throat in response to your comment. He found himself taken aback by the unexpected emotions stirring within him. Every passing moment made him more drawn towards you, captivated by your presence. 

He couldn't comprehend why he was suddenly feeling so at ease, as if he had known you for a lifetime instead of minutes.

It was like homecoming. Instead of greeting for the first time.

Steve sat up straight again, his eyes not leaving your face. He took another moment, gathering himself and taking a breath before speaking, his voice went as gentle and as low as ever. 

"Can I tell you something?"

His gentle voice gave you goosebumps. 

"Is it a secret?"

Steve chuckled nervously, his hands suddenly becoming sweaty and palms slightly clammy, his heart starting to pound against his chest. He shifted slightly so that he was even closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"Hmm, yeah, I guess you could call it a secret..."

"Will I ever be tortured by enemies trying to know this secret?"

Steve laughed, shaking his head and leaning back once again, but still staying close to you. 

"No...no, you won't get tortured, I promise...it's just, something I just want to share with you and only you..."

"Oh, in that case...I better promise I won't tell...You've made me promise a lot of things tonight, Steve."

Steve smiled but noticed that his hands were becoming even more sweaty as he thought, and that his heart was racing like a teenager. 

"Can I...can I lean a bit closer to you for a second?"

Your body literally was screaming to get closer to him, your brain was sending some kind of alert sign, and your heart was about to jump off your chest. So you were practically a mess. You could only do as you were commanded.

“Sure.”

Steve shuffled even closer to you, his leg slightly touching yours, the feeling of just sitting so close to you creating a small burst of electricity through his body. He suddenly realized that he could feel your body heat and how much he was desperate to get even closer, to feel that warmth directly against him.

He took another deep breath before speaking, his voice still as low and as gentle as a whisper, but the butterflies within him were entering in a frenetic dance.

"I'm gonna lean even closer than this, alright?"

No, it is not alright because your heart was going to burst, but could you ever say no to him? 

"Alright." You nodded, unable to move your eyes from his.

Steve inhaled deeply at your response, his body almost aching to be even closer. He leaned in, his leg now firmly pushed against yours, his own body heat mixing with yours.

He was suddenly nervous, the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue. He took another deep breath, swallowing and licking across his lips before speaking once again in that same, low, gentle voice. 

"Can I come even closer?"

You held your breath, barely nodded. Just move, MOVE!

Steve didn't need you to say anymore. His body was now fully pressed against yours, his breath catching as he took in your scent. God, you smelled like fresh grass after rain. It was driving him wild.

His head was next to yours, his cheek mere millimeters from your skin, like willow leaves resting on the water, creating ripples through your heart.

"Closer?"

Your mind was blurred. "Please."

That one word was all it took. Steve realized how much he wanted you. He shifted, lifting his leg onto the bench so he was almost sitting next to you, his chest and hips now pushed against you. 

He could feel the heat from your body through his own and he got it, what was that wonderstruck homecoming sensation he had: he never wanted to be without it.

"Is this close enough?" he murmured, his voice nothing but a whisper.

You sighed, your heart pounding in your chest. With a determined look, you put your hands on his face, tracing gentle lines with your fingers.

You looked at him, your gaze holding his, as if you could see forever into his soul.

"No. If you don't mind. I'd like to be closer."

Steve's breath caught, his body burning with desire. He shifted closer, pressing against you, his pulse quickening. You felt his heat, his warmth, his desperate need, and you surrendered to it.

His breaths became shallower now, that strange feeling almost overwhelming within him. 

"How about now?"

"Well...you think...you think that the other...the other superhero that suffers from insomnia could do better?" You slowly put your arms around his neck, and pulled him to yourself. 

"Something...like this?"

Steve gasped, feeling a strong wave of electricity shoot straight to his core as he felt your arms around his neck, your body pressed against his all at once, his arms holding onto your waist, keeping you pulled close to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips as you spoke as he answered. 

"Definitely."

And he suddenly realized how good it felt, how right it felt, how much he wanted to taste you, how badly he could feel that strange, overwhelming feeling in his heart begging him to just give in.

He moved just a little more. And it felt as if he were hanging on the edge of a cliff, his breath caught in his throat as he spoke, his voice a shaky whisper.

"Can I..."

And you moved your lips up, right into his.

And all the butterflies just...flew up, and a thousand golden glitter traces exploded everywhere like magic dust rolled in the wind.

Steve felt a sudden fire ignite within him as his body ached for you, every inch desperate to feel your touch. 

He let out a small moan as he tasted you, the ache growing stronger with each passing second. 

His hands roamed sliding down your back and up to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands as the kiss deepened. Steve wanted more, he needed more...he just couldn't get enough.

But you broke the kiss, you needed air.

So he had to, too. His breaths coming out sharp and ragged, his heart hammering so hard and fast he could practically feel it in his head. He took a moment to compose himself, his hands holding you still against him, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to control his breathing.

“I…I can’t believe I just did that…” he spoke after a while, his voice coming out as a whisper.

OMG. 

You opened your eyes and blurted out: "But...but...did...but did you like it?" 

RIGHT? Please tell me you liked it or you'll have to present your resignation to Stark tomorrow.

“Liked it?”

Steve’s hand suddenly comes up to gently push a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“I loved it.”

You gazed at him, and of course, your impulse worked so much faster than your sense: "So can we do it again?"

Steve’s eyes widened, a small, incredulous laugh escaping his throat.

“You think you have to ask?”

"And...would you mind if I...take the lead...this time?" You can barely look at him, and your voice is so low that only a super soldier could hear.

"I..."Steve’s heart suddenly skipped. God, you’re wonderfully full of surprises.

"Not at all." Not in a million lifetimes.

"Ok." You inhaled deeply to take charge, but all of a sudden, you stopped. As you were realizing something.

"W-What's wrong?" Steve didn’t dare to speak above a whisper, his mind racing through every possible reason as to why you suddenly hesitated like that.

“Is this…too fast?”

"Oh no." You immediately shook your head: "No, this is wonderful. It's just...my heart is beating so fast and so loud, I don't...I don't even know what to do with it, just...just give me a second to recover. Hold to that thought a little longer."

You wave your face with a hand, as you couldn’t breathe. Is too loud. This is too loud. Your heart was pounding too fast, you were afraid he could hear it. That everyone in this campus could hear it.

"Oh for god's sake!" He laughed so hard. His heart suddenly swelled, the moment was perfect…perfect in a way he never realized possible. He couldn't believe it, how can you be so adorable and drive him to the edge of wildness at the same time.

As you struggle to catch your breath and calm your racing heart, your eyes are drawn to him. His smile, his laughter, the sparkle in his eyes, the way he holds your hand. 

And in a moment of dumbfounded wonder, you find yourself uttering, "Are you even real…?”

He sighed, a long exhale filled with tenderness and emotions he couldn't yet understand. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered back with a smile.

"If I'm not real...your imagination is pretty damn amazing..."

"...I think this is beyond my imagination..."

Steve slowly moved his hand down to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb across the blushing skin: "Trust me, my imagination could never have come up with someone like you..."

"But..." You almost trembled under his touch, and as he raised your jaw to look at you, you finally took the lead.

"This is real." 

And you pressed your lips to his for an even more perfect second kiss.

Steve gasped.

They say marvelous things about the first kisses. But how can they say nothing about the second one?

His heart suddenly accelerating within his chest, overtaken by the sensation of your touch. He couldn't think, head completely foggy, mind blurred, with the only clarity of wanting more. 

His hand suddenly grabbed onto your waist, pulling you even closer to him, his own mouth instantly responding against yours. 

He was losing it to the urge, the need, to get even closer to you, to have all of you.

Your whole body was shivering, and when you got a chance to breathe, you uncontrollably whispered his name with a lost voice.

"Steve..."

And that's just it. 

That’s what set Steve on fire.

He slowly shifted his body, pulling you onto his lap so you were now sitting on his thighs. He leaned forwards to your ear, his hot breath on your neck as he spoke in a low whisper, his own voice almost pleading.

"Say it again..."

You opened your watery and moist eyes, and what you released was almost an uncontrolled begging moan, "Steve..." as you pressed your fingers tightly to his skin, unable to bear all these feelings.

Steve suddenly stopped all action, the sound of his name on your lips mixed with that look in your eyes sending a shiver down his spine.

"God..." He said as he breathed heavily and leaned back. Panting. 

For fucks’ sake. He thinks to himself.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me..." 

It took all the willpower within him not to act on his body's needs, not to press you down into the bench and claim all of you right there.

Your mind was so blurred and your body and heart were reacting so out of control that you had no idea what you were saying. So you just answered spontaneously in between panting breaths, "...Helping you with your sleeping problems?"

Steve chuckled. You were magical. His body was distressed after your reply, but still so pending on everything you made him feel. He looked at your blushed face and heard your agitated breathing. He couldn't understand how you truly had no idea of the effect you had on him, of how badly he wanted you right now. So he took a deep breath in, trying to hold himself back.

"Helping to sleep?" His thumb caressed your lips. "More like keeping me awake..."

"Oh..." As if you had any idea of how that had happened, ending up in his lap with this kiss that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

"So do you need another bedtime story?"

Steve chuckled again, your words bringing him back into the moment, grounding him a bit. He looked at you and smiled, shaking his head. "No, that's a wrap for today. But I need to ask you something."

Something he wanted to ask since you sat by his side tonight. But well, is not his fault that he was so easily distracted by you.

"And be honest with me, okay?" He inhaled slowly, and for a strange reason, his nerves rose again when you nodded. He slowly ran his eyes over your face, the way the light from the city below flickered on your skin. 

And for a moment he hesitated in asking, what if the answer was not what he expected?

"Are you...seeing anyone right now...? Like...do you have a...boyfriend...?"

"Oh." From all the questions on earth, this was the last one you expected. So you nodded. 

"Yeah, I do, from Mondays to Fridays, during working hours. Then, I'm allowed to hang around the campus at midnight to find a super soldier, sit on his lap, and kiss him."

Steve's eyes widened when he heard the first part, and then a loud laughter escaped his lips. 

He felt his heart filled with inexplicable joy. Damn, you were good. He was so glad, he couldn't stop smiling, and he felt his soul was full with your hand interlocked with his. As two perfect matched pieces from a puzzle.

"Well...?" You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Are you?" You looked at him as if it were an obvious implication. "Seeing someone?"

"No." He was firm, the small smile still on his face. He looked up at you, slowly shaking his head. "No...I haven't been with anyone for a while...I haven't had any reason to..." And he sighed a gentle whisper, "...up until now, anyway..."

You were terrible at getting indirect answers. Your brain only worked with binary stuff. So you blinked several times, making sure you understood correctly.

"And...can you consider that possibility, right now?"

Steve held his gaze steady on yours, "What if...what if I said I already had someone in mind?"

"Is she...helping you with your sleeping problems? Or...a very good storyteller?"

Steve suddenly let out a chuckle. "Maybe ...but it's not just about the sleep, you know...It's about...having that person there...that one person who's always there for you...that one person who always makes you smile..." As you.

"...that person you can always be yourself around..." As you. He thought, while observing you, expecting your reaction.

"Well..." You nodded, thinking about it seriously. "I....I don't know if I'd be a good fit but...."

"...But...?"

Steve's nerves built again as you paused for a moment, he wanted to know if you were saying what he thought you were about to say.

"But I promise I'll do everything in my power to make you smile...and...and I'll be there...always...and...I'll do anything..." 

Your lack of courage didn't let you finish under the look of Steve's gaze. He was so serious that you started to stutter and couldn't finish those stupid words.

Well done. That sounded so cliche. You couldn't believe yourself.

But Steve sat there, completely stunned and frozen, your words slowly sinking in within his mind. He couldn't believe what you'd just said, how you'd spoken to them with such honesty, such conviction. And you weren't even together yet, you weren't a couple, you weren't...anything, really.

And his stomach was twisting into a knot as he listened to your every word, as he heard the meaning behind them.

A strange kind of calm washed over him, as if a weight was suddenly slowly lifted from his chest. You couldn't have said it better. He couldn't even imagine better, and yet, everything you said was exactly what he hoped you'd say, and those words had calmed and soothed something within him he'd never realized needed soothing.

"I AM SO SORRY." You, in the other hand, were a mess while he was still wonderstruck, thinking that made him feel so uncomfortable. "I'll take it back, I didn't say anything."

"No." He replied immediately. No, don't you dare take that back from me. 

He wanted to speak, wanted to say so much, but the words failed him. So he inhaled deeply, and cupped your face in his hands, pressed his forehead to yours.

"I m, I'm just...stunned, I'm just...marveled."

"Huh?" This emotional rollercoaster was killing you. "Why?"

Steve suddenly let out a small chuckle, your innocence and naivety when it came to your affect on him just kept him in endless wonder. But he had time. You'll find out eventually how important you are. And that makes him smile. That's a wonderful word: "Eventually." Means you have so much ahead of you together.

"Because...I've never heard anyone say the things you just said to me, that's why..."

"Oh." You are not really good at interpreting people's faces. So you just don't know what to say, and to be honest, there's something else you want to ask.

"Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Can I have your phone number?"

Steve laughed again, God, what a night. How can you be this...amazing? He pulled the phone out, turning it on and pulling up the screen as he spoke.

"Of course you can...here...put your number in..."

"Yeah..." You rubbed your nose. "I don't know my phone number...Maybe...you can search it in the...public contact list? Here, let me help you." You say while entering your complete name in the organization's internal app.

"Oh." Steve frowns. "You don't know your phone number?"

"Well, do you?" You return his cellphone after finding your contact card in the top level section.

"I know EVERYONE'S number." Steve has a smirk on his face, his playful side suddenly coming out.

"Really? WHY?" You wonder. "You're on Level 0, you should have access to everything, you don't need to have to know the numbers by heart..."

"Because...I'm Captain America, I have to know these things..."

You take this joke so seriously, you're shocked. "REALLY? You know...like all the avenger's numbers?"

Steve snorted a laugh, the look on your face priceless. Oh, you gorgeous, adorable being. And he had this urge, of kissing you again, so he smiled, leaning a little closer to you as he spoke, his hand tightening around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Yeah...yeah I do...every single one..."

Your eyes sparkled.

"Can I have Thor's?"

"What?" That got him off guard, and he answered really fast. "NO." No way. You stay away from him. You're mine. 

"Why? Does he even use these things?" You were so genuinely intrigued. "Don't you talk to him through a magic mirror or something?"

"W...what..." Steve didn't know what to answer, he was laughing and shaking his head while swiping his contacts. "No, we don't have magic mirrors, I actually do have his number, look, over here 'God Of Thunder'..."

"Wow, did you actually name him 'God Of Thunder'?" You find that incredibly cute.

"Oh yeah...I'm one of those people that put's everything..." He held his phone in front of you.

"...well here it is...there's 'The Mighty Thor', the 'King of Asgard', also 'God of Thunder'...and 'Thunder God'...pick your favorite..."

You look at him while his sight is on the screen of his phone, your voice almost a whisper. 

"And...um...what would be...my contact name?"

"Well..." Steve's eyes were glancing down to his phone at your question, wondering what he would call you. He paused for a moment, scrolling to the section of his contacts list, his thumb hovering over the small, blank box for your name. He thought for a moment longer.

"What would you want it to be...?"

And your words escaped from your mouth before you could think clearly, before you could reply with anything smart.

"What do you want me to be? …to you?"

Steve suddenly froze, his finger hovering over the blank contact name as your words echoed in his ears, filling his mind. 

He straightened his pose, his eyes met yours, looking deep into them, silently trying to figure out what you'd just said.

And he finally exhaled slowly, his thoughts racing through his mind again, unable to form words for a moment. He could only manage a quiet voice, a soft whisper.

"How about...my Everything."

And there was once upon a time, a soldier who couldn't sleep asked for a wish to a fairy.

So there you were, feeling your heart has exploded into a million shining butterflies, and all the stars of the universe have made your wish come true, you took his hand and smiled.

"Your wish is granted, soldier."

END but TBC

Continue to:

2: Lucid |

3: Reverie |

4: Nightmare |

5: Awakening |

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Hii thanks for reading & thanks for sticking with me this far <3 I hope you liked it and it wasn't too long to boring. This is my first time writing in english, hope it wasn't terrible :3 also, this is my first time setting this thing in tumblr, so fingers crossed it worked out okay ;_; A special hug to this lady who helped me set this up @jamneuromain (I still have no idea how this works)

Love.,

Moon.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 17 - I Ain't Worried

The ending of this chapter was my absolute favorite to write! Me and my Americaness is shining bright in this chapter! I live in Florida for half the year for uni - so I love the state. Logan also needs lots of love and a forehead kiss :D

I'm so sorry for the last chapter, but wait to send me the therapy bills cause the next chapter is gonna be a doozy (I apologize in advance)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Much love

GO AMERICA RAAAWWWWWWW

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“MAAXXX!” 

Max jumped at the sheer volume of your voice. Last he knew, you were all the way at the Williams garage. It wouldn’t be possible for you to possibly be able to scream that far. Yet, you were known to surprise him. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to be dragging one Logan Sargeant by the hand. The latter looked almost…scared? The Dutchman quickly put his data pad down and turned to your direction. By now, you had dropped the American’s hand and was pushing him closer. 

“Just tell him,” you told the blond, who was currently digging his feet in the concrete. Logan only rolled his eyes as Max lifted an eyebrow. He looked between the younger two, waiting for someone to spill the beans. 

You huffed, since Logan was taking too long. 

“Logan here wanted to see if you’d want to join us at the beach after the race today to celebrate points last race. Since there’s really no good beaches in China. ”

A squawk came from the American. “I didn’t want to ask, you did.” 

Now, that could have hurt Max’s feelings, but he really didn’t know the American well enough to be offended. 

The senior Red Bull racer shifted his stance. “Sure. I mean, who’s coming?” 

Finally, Logan spoke up. “Well, right now it’s just us because someone,” he gave you a look, “jumped the gun on the invite. I was going to send a text out.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. 

Max thought for a moment. All you had to say about the American was nothing short than amazing. And for just a second, Max felt pretty bad as he looked at the two of you, who were waiting for an answer. 

He raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like fun!” 

With the way Logan’s head whipped up and the hope in your eyes, Max knew he made the right choice. 

“Perfect,” the William’s driver whispered, not in full belief that THEE Max Verstappen was going to go to the beach with them. 

You playfully punched his arm. “I told you!” you all but whispered as Logan smiled down at you. 

The three of you kind of stood in awkward silence, until you grabbed Logan’s hand once again. “Come on, we got to go find your other half!” 

Logan didn’t get a say in anything else as you dragged him in the other direction, back to the McLaren garage. 

A laugh from behind Max startled him a bit. He looked over his shoulder to find you manager looking fondly at your disappearing figure. Another eyebrow raise silently questioned the man. 

Vito caught his eye and gestured to you. “It’s great to see her making friends. Well, more than just Arthur and Ollie.” 

Max just hummed as he put a hand across his forehead to be able to see through the bright Miami sun. Yes, it was hot and the beach was the last place that he wanted to be after a sweaty race. But, you and Logan seemed so hopeful. He could see Kelly now approving of how he was letting loose a bit. It had been too long since he allowed himself to have fun. 

A ding of his phone had him looking for the rectangular device. He let out a dry laugh as he saw a text from Charles. 

Emotional Support Rival  

I hear the kids have roped you in as well to go to the beach after this? 

Mad Max 

Yep  Couldn’t say no to the puppy eyes  And it’ll be fun to let loose, ya know?  Also, who else is coming 

Emotional Support Rival 

Yeah  And the American kid too  He’s strangely growing on me  Uh, it’s Lando, Oscar, Alex, George, me, Logan, and then the kid 

Mad Max 

Ah, cool  And same  Well, good luck today 

Emotional Support Rival 

Yeah, yeah, yeah  I’ll try to stay out of the gravel  :D 

The emoji made Max shudder as he stared at the little smiley face that you had roped Charles into using more often. He could take it from you, but not from anyone else. 

You suddenly made your way back into the garage, a bit out a breath. 

“You done running everywhere?” Vito questioned, handing you a bottle of water. 

“Yep! Beach trip is a go!” You fist pumped. “I’m so glad I brought my swimsuit.” 

You started to ramble about everything you wanted to do at the beach. A few key words such as “recreation of the beach scene from Top Gun” and how “oddly strange it was that Logan reminded you of Ryan Gosling in the Barbie movie.” Everything just made Max chuckle to himself. 

He was a bit nervous that he wasn’t starting pole today. Charles had just nabbed it out of his grasp. You had surprisingly gotten back up the grid after what happened at Suzuka and then a placing of P7 at Shanghai, your lowest finish yet. 

Shanghai Results 

Max Verstappen – 25 points 

Charles Leclerc – 18 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 15 points 

George Russell – 12 points 

Lando Norris – 11 points 

Oscar Piastri – 8 points 

Y/n L/n – 6 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 2 points 

Carlos Sainz – 1 point 

Fernando Alonso – 0 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 0 points

Lance Stroll – 0 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points

Pierre Gasly – 0 points

Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points

Zhou Guanyu – 0 points

Esteban Ocon – 0 points

Valtteri Bottas – 0 points

Kevin Magnussen – 0 points

But now you were starting back at the top with him and Charles. 

Starting Grid 

Max Verstappen 

Charles Leclerc 

Y/n L/n 

Oscar Piastri 

Lando Norris 

Logan Sargeant 

Alex Albon 

George Russell 

Carlos Sainz 

Fernando Alonso 

Lewis Hamilton 

Lance Stroll 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Valtteri Bottas 

Pierre Gasly 

Esteban Ocon 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

“Our starting grid looks promising today at the 2024 Miami Grand Prix. Now, the Williams seem strong today as Logan Sargeant qualified his highest position yet. He seems like a man on a mission for a podium. We’re glad to see that Y/n L/n is back up top following her crash back at Suzuka and then a low finish at Shanghai.” 

The camera focused on you in your car, waiting for everyone to flee the scene. You caught the lens and gave a small peace sign, before suddenly becoming embarrassed as you put your visor down. It was finally time for the race as everyone got off the starting line. 

Sure, you could have been even more nervous after your crash, but you had just shrugged everything off and got back to it. 

“We see the drivers in the formation lap now. There goes our race leader Max Verstappen followed by Charles Leclerc. Now the drivers we are going to be focused on today are the Williams drivers, Logan and Alex. We want to see if Sargeant can keep his cool in the hot seat, both figuratively and literally as the temperatures are high today.

“All the drivers are back in their spots and now they patiently wait for those five red lights…

And it’s lights out and away we go at the 2024 Miami Grand Prix. There goes Max Verstappen, already pulling away from the very beginning. Down they go toward the first corner and CHARLES LECERLC GOES OFF THE TRACK! But it seems like he is back on and I’m getting radio of no damage so he’s still in, but what a start. 

“Y/n L/n is up to second with Oscar Piastri now in third with Logan Sargeant who has gained a position. Lando Norris is behind him with the other Williams car making him a Williams sandwich.” 

“Alright Mitch. Can we try to convert this into a win maybe?” You pressed the radio on as you had been called into the pits right behind Max. 

“Ah, that’s a negative kid. Max has been given the priority for this race.” 

“Boooooo. Max is a certified rookie-hater.” 

“Seems like Y/n L/n is not happy with that team call.” David Croft chuckles after listening in on your radio. 

“Who is currently behind me?” You asked as the last lap was nearing. 

Mitch responded. “Piastri is behind, but Sargeant is in DRS to him.” 

When she said that, your heart did a little jump. Secretly, you were hoping that Logan would get the jump on Oscar. (But no one had to know that.) 

With two more laps left, you needed to check in one again as you could see a vehicle catching up. 

“Mitch, status for the car behind me please.” 

“It’s, uh…Is this correct?” You heard her whisper to someone else. 

“Uh Mitch? Priorities please!” Your car jerked around the corner that sent you into the last lap. 

“Sargeant is 2.385 seconds behind you and not gaining. So just get across the finish line.” 

“LOGAN?!” 

“Yes. Logan.” 

You didn’t even realize that you had crossed the finish line. 

“AND WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? LOGAN SARGEANT CROSSES THE LINE IN A PERSONAL BEST OF A THIRD POSITION! A WILLIAMS IN ON THE PODIUM AND HIS TEAMMATE COMES AFTER HIM TO MAKE IS A 3-4 FOR THE WILLIAMS TEAM!” 

Max crawled out of his car and raised his hands once he was out on the concrete. He turned and expected you to immediately run toward him like the last 1-2, but you never showed up. All he could see was you hunched over…a Williams?

When did that get there? 

“LOGAANNNN!” you yelled down into the cockpit as you were practically in there with the American. 

He batted you away so that he could get out with you. And once he was out, he was glad that he was ready for you as you jumped into his arms. Your helmets clashed as the two of you came together, but you could deal with a concussion later. He gently placed you back on the ground, but was again bulldozed over by his teammate. 

It was at that moment you noticed a Dutch driver standing by himself, a bit dejected. You quickly jogged over and jumped on his back. 

“Maaaaxxxxx, another podium baby!” 

The Dutchman was glad that he had his hands on your legs as you leaned back and almost fell over. 

“Kid are you trying to kill me?” 

“Yes, you rookie-hater. Are you ever going to let me win?” you whined as he let you back down gently so that the two of you could get weighed. 

“There will come a time kid. You have to be patient.” 

Once your helmet was off, he could see your pouted lips. “I don’t want to be patient.” 

Sadly, Arthur was off getting trained for endurance racing and wouldn’t be back to a race until Monaco for Charles’s home race. So, your favorite interviewer was not there after the cooldown room. 

Yet, it was enjoyable due to the blond in the room. The three of you watched the TV and winced as you saw Charles go off the track. 

“Sheesh,” you grimaced. 

Max sighed, “And he said he’d try to stay out of the gravel.” He looked over at Logan. “Nice job on the overtake with Piastri.” 

Logan kind of just stared at him for a moment before coming back to reality. “Thank you. He went a bit wide, and I tried to keep my elbows out." 

You punched him in the side and he let out an oof. “Keep your elbows out my ass. You drove phenomenally.” 

The podium celebration was amazing, but you were looking forward to one thing and one thing only. 

“Alexa, play I Ain’t Worried by One Republic.” 

Sand kicked at your feet as you ran behind Logan as he threw the egg-shaped ball at Oscar. The Aussie may have fumbled a bit, but he was able to run down the long stretch toward the opposite’s goal. 

“Max!” he yelled and threw the ball to the unexpected Dutchman. The ball hit Max’s head and tumbled to the sand. You threw your hands up in frustration. 

“Max!” you groaned. The remaining boys of Lando, Alex, George, and Charles all laughed at your frustration.  

“What! This is not football!” He pointed to the American football in the sand. Charles leaned down to pick it up. Surprisingly, he twirled it well in the air. 

“Technically, it’s American football!” Logan yelled from the other side, where you were standing with your hands on your hips. 

George took the ball from Charles and chucked it to Lando. The Brit should have been looking the other direction, because to him you came out of nowhere and bulldozed him over. 

Logan put his arms up, pretending to be a field goal. “And tackle!” 

The curly-hair boy pretended to spit out sand as you stood, football in hand. 

He looked up at you in amazement. “Where did you learn to tackle like that?” 

You spiraled the ball perfectly back to Logan. “Live in Texas for 5 years. If there’s nothing bigger there than sweet tea and Bucees, it’s football.” 

This time, Oscar was able to get the ball and run all the way to your “end goal.” 

“Touchdown!”

“This was so not Top Gun,” George sighed as he kicked sand. “The shirtless ones always win.” 

“Uh George?” Logan asked, making the taller Brit look up at the other shirtless drivers. You were technically shirtless as you only had your bikini on. 

A bigger sigh left George’s lips. 

“So can we all agree that I’d be Maverik?” 

“Logan, if anyone was Maverik, it’d be me. Y’a know, main character vibes. You can be Rooster.”

“Doesn’t he die?” 

“No silly, that’s Goose in the first one.” 

“Who would I be?” 

“Bob. Oscar, you’d be Bob.” 

Race Results 

Max Verstappen – 25 points 

Y/n L/n – 18 points 

Logan Sargeant – 15 points 

Alex Albon – 12 points 

Charles Leclerc – 11 points 

Lando Norris – 8 points 

Oscar Piastri – 6 points 

Carlos Sainz – 4 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 2 points 

George Russell – 1 point 

Fernando Alonso 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Lance Stroll 

Pierre Gasly 

Zhou Guanyu 

Esteban Ocon 

Valtteri Bottas 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Championship Standings 

Max Verstappen – 150 points 

Charles Leclerc – 95 points 

Y/n L/n – 65 points 

Lando Norris – 61 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 49 points 

Oscar Piastri – 45 points 

Carlos Sainz – 33 points 

George Russell – 31 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points  

Alex Albon – 20 points 

Logan Sargeant – 17 points 

Lance Stroll 

Pierre Gasly 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 215 points 

Ferrari – 128 points 

McLaren – 106 points 

Mercedes – 80 points 

Williams – 37 points 

Aston Martin - 23 point

Racing Bulls – 21 points 

Alpha Romeo 

Haas

Alpine 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 highway to the DANGA ZONE - podium (with my favorite American and teammate) and some well deserved beach time after

liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc, b0x_b0x_nightmare and 73,295 others

maxverstappen1 uh I was on the podium too??

y/n.89 we're all tired of you being on the top step charles_leclerc yes, let's have the poor people have a chance landonorris POOR PEOPLE?? YOU MAKE MORE THAN I DO oscarpiastri you're getting paid??

logan2sarg AMERICAN ON THE PODIUM - ONE STEP CLOSER TO FREEDOM RAAAWWRRRR

sargeant_log this post has signaled the Americans

arthurxy/n ARTHUR BACK IN THE LIKES

maxverstappen1 I'm your only teammate??

logansargeant and I'm the only American driver?? y/n.89 oh be quiet

emotional_support_rivals I was thankfully at the beach, and let me tell you - an exact replica of the top gun beach scene

lestappenlove lemme guess...Logan is Maverick? y/n.89 NO HE'S ROOSTER

y/n.nation our girl looking prettyyyy - mystery boy must be keeping her happy

maxverstappen1 has posted

maxverstappen1 the progression of the day : sun time, burnt time, shade time

liked by y/n.89, maxverstappencom, dutch_lion, max_max, and 2,948,923 others

max_fan lobster max is back

kellypiquet did you remember sunscreen?

maxverstappen1 yes y/n.89 no he didn't

lestappenlove max in a bucket hat is something I didn't know I needed

redbullracing should we add umbrellas to the car?

f1_group I wonder who won the football game

y/n.89 Logan, max, oscar, and I won - while Lando, Alex, George and Charles LOST alex_albon it's because somehow you are freakishly good at the sport, Logan grew up playing it, Oscar grew up with Logan and Max just wins everything charles_leclerc Max is a certified everyone-hater

formula1_power this beach trip is my Roman Empire

logansargeant has posted

logansargeant my job is beach

liked by williamsracing, oscarpiastri, freedom4logan, and 95,294 others

L_sarg YEAAAHHHHH PODIUM ON HOME SOIL

l2_fan WTF IS A KILOMETEERRRRRRRRR

y/n.89 your fans scare me just a bit

logansargeant they don't bite y/n.89 YES THEY DO

williamsracing FREEDOOOMMMMM (did we do that correctly?)

formula1_fan Logan on the podium has boosted my morale for living

cota_official can't wait to see you again in October! (maybe top step this time?)

author guuyyyyssssss cota_official sorry... usa4logan HELLO??

oscarpiastri happy for you mate

barbie and what a great job you do at beach Logan

charles_leclerc has posted

charles_leclerc beach, please

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,843,923 others

sharl16 its the return of the blue filter

cha_cha_red the caption is giving "72 best beach instagram captions to share your vacation fun"

y/n.89 do you have his search history or something? charles_leclerc quiet or I'd have to drop something ferrarifan what do you know

ferrari_failure glad he's having some fun

red_flag the groups' captions hit hard - I'm dying

maxverstappen1 why don't you just say the word??

landonorris cause he's under contract charles_leclerc legally I can't say can't say anything, read my lips y/n.89 why is he crying, and what does that have to do with "pitch perfect" ??

scuderiaferrari remember to use sunscreen!

alex_albon has posted

alex_albon freedom or whatever

liked by lilymhe, albon_pets, logansargeant, and 835,920 others

alobono love the matching Williams tank-tops with Logan

y/n.89 sun or whatever

logansargeant sand or whatever oscarpiastri beach or whatever landonorris the sea or whatever

aa_on_top why he walking like that?

y/n.89 chafing alex_albon SHUT UP georgerussell63 penguin

williamsracing you look great Alex

y/n.89 not williams flirty on the main @.lilymhe they're trying to take your boyfriend lilymhe they can have him :) alex_albon LILY??

fan_of_f1 probably the only one who doesn't need sunscreen

albon_alex23 not Alex getting bullied on HIS post

landonorris has posted

landonorris my toes got wet

liked by oscarpiastri, y/n.89, lnfour, maxfewtrell, and 839,183 others

lnfournation big stretch

la_la_lando is he napping??

y/n.89 it was all too much for little Lando Norris maxverstappen1 couldn't handle losing at football landonorris I was JUST resting my eyes charles_leclerc suurreeee

ln_4 suns out, tits out too I guess

last_lap_lando are those....weights??

y/n.89 he said it was for the "pump"? idk if he found it tho y/n_nation she is really coming for them all today

mclaren watch out for sharks!

lando_norizz oh to just lie down on the sand and play with my best buds

oscarpiastri has posted

oscarpiastri I'm bob

liked by mclaren, lilyzneimer, auzzieauzzieauzzie, and 834,294 others

top_gun_enthusiast f1 & top gun crossover when??

y/n.89 Logan would go nuts - he has a crush on tom cruise logansargeant Y/NNNNNNN oscarpiastri it's true

oscah81 an aussie in his natural habitat

osc_pastry florida?? oscah81 the water??

hoe4oscarpiastri bless George and his shirtless pictures influences

danielricciardo can't believe you didn't invite me????

y/n.89 there was only room for one aussie plus we've already been to the beach together?? carossainz55 it's ok, they forgot me too Daniel landonorris guys be quiet, you're making y/n cry cause now she feels bad charles_leclerc she already cried because she saw a lonely crab DO NOT make it worse

mclaren ice bath thirst traps coming next?

micLaren_bois ahhhh thank you y/n for this content

georgerussell63 has posted

georgerussell63 gave out a master class on shirtless posts today

liked by carmenmmundt, mercedesamgf1, russellgeorge, and 194,284 others

russellgeorge the king of shirtless pictures has arrived

king_george63 when did George get a jeep?

y/n.89 he didn't, he asked these random guys if he could take a quick picture and ended up breaking the wipers logansargeant it's true, I was there georgerussell62 y/n you do not need to tell all my secrets. do I need to call toto? y/n.89 you don't scare me cause he liked me more than you mercedesamgf1 play nice George - toto

he-just-tUrned-in0-me the second picture is everthing

y/n.89 he ate the sand right after georgerussell63 Y/N!!!! alex_albon you new here? just ignore it

george_at_merc this just ties all of their posts together

williamsracing has posted

williamsracing podium, points, and some all American football

liked by f1, y/n.89, logansargant, arthur_leclerc, and 803,195 others

logan4freedom GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS

williamspookies GOD BLESS AMERICA y/n.89 AND GENTLEMEN logansargeant START. YOUR. ENGIIINNNEESSSSS alex_albon I am only slightly concerned

f1mia glad to have you all here! until next year RAWWRRRR

charles_leclerc can you please take out the gravel pleaasseeee

b0x_b0x_nightmare this year's podium was so wholesome

best_rookie I knooowww, max with Logan and y/n was a trio I didn't know I needed

tomcruise great job @.logansargeant, glad I got to watch

logansargeant OH MY GOSHHHHHH y/n.89 he just died but can you give miles teller my number please? maxverstappen1 y/n no, you have a boyfriend???? y/n.89 he's the one who told me to ask??????????

box_box_official this weekend will always be on repeat

williams_fan this whole weekend was so wholesome, can't wait for more

author oh, uhhhhh readers what did you do? author get your therapy bills ready?

formula1_fanatic can't wait to see what the rest of the season holds :D

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[bullet-prooflove]

The Diagnosis: Michael "Mikey" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

Mikey’s bipolar.

He gets the court mandated diagnosis after he punches a guy dressed like Ronald McDonald in the mouth for calling him for a fucker because he won’t give him a smoke. Out of all of his behaviour throughout the years this is probably the least craziest thing he’s done and the irony is it’s the one that gives him answers to the questions he’s always had about himself.

All those batshit impulses, the highs, the lows, the days he can barely get out of bed, all of it starts to make sense.

The thing is he got it from his mother, he knows he did and when he tries to tell her that so she can get help too, she slaps him across the face and curses at him, telling him that he’s the one that’s fucked up not her.

“I want your shit packed and you out.” She rampages, throwing his clothes out into the driveway and Mikey has no choice to comply because he knows what it’s like when his mother gets like this because he knows what he’s like when he gets like this.

When he turns up at your door, you’re surprised to see him. It’s been six months since the two of you ended things. It was your relentless patience that did it. The fact that no matter what ridiculous shit he got up to, you were always there, always smoothing things over, always supporting him.

“I’m no good for you.” He had told you, after you’d bailed him out of jail for the third time. “I’m no good for anyone.”

That was the night he had left, retreated back to his mother’s house because that way he can’t hurt you anymore, he can’t fuck up your life the way that he was fucking up his.

“I have no where else to go.” He tells you, the shame creeping up his features as he looks down at the garbage bag of belongings at his feet. Carmy’s in New York, Richie and Tiff are on the outs and he’s in big to Jimmy, there’s no one else he can turn to right now.

“You’re always welcome here.” You tell him as you hold open the door for him to come inside. “You know that.”

And he does because the breakup, it was never about a lack of love, it was about an abundance of it. Mikey loved you so much he couldn’t drag you into his shit anymore so he left.

“I’m sick.” He tells you as he cuts peppers on the chopping board in your kitchen. He’s decided to cook for you tonight to say thank you for letting him stay with you. You’d offered him a glass of wine but he’d turned it down because he doesn’t want it to mess with the medication he’s taking to deal with his mood swings. “The truth is I’ve probably been sick for a long time, I just… I didn’t know it.”

“Michael.” You say softly and he slows his chopping as your arms wrap around his waist, your body pressing into his back.

His eyes start to sting because you are the only one he can talk to about this shit, the only one that cares about him enough to listen. He turns to face you, gathering you up into the confines of his chest as he buries his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry about all the crazy shit I did.” He whispers as he cradles you close. “I’m taking medication, I’m going to therapy, I’m trying to get better…”

“I know Michael.” You tell him, your palms smoothing over his back. “I know baby, I know.”

Love Mikey? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x black!oc kalani halloway

• chapter warnings: none

• w.c: 3.8K

• ru’s 💌: First thing first, I want to apologise for how long it took to post this. With school and placement taking up a lot of my time, amongst other distractions and my mental health just not being the best for a while, writing has not been my main priority, and I am trying to make up for that now. Updates will be slow, but they won’t be non-existent. Please don’t forget to like, comment and re-blog.

• tip: kofi | paypal

series masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

PRESENT DAY

“ARE you sure that you want to keep doing this with him Lani? Like I love you and I’ll always be in your corner, but I have to agree with your therapist here. What are you gaining from continuing to sleep with Malik?”

The bluntness of the question almost knocked the wind out of Kalani’s lungs. Over the decades of their friendship, she had come to know that Julian did not pull any punches when it came to honesty. It should not have shocked her that her best friend would react like this to the revelation of such news. Maybe it was the exasperation and disappointment that she picked up in his tone that made Kalani want to shrivel into herself from shame.

“Lani!” His voice boomed through the car speaker, breaking her train of thought. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.” She mumbled as her hands tightened around the stirring wheel.

“Well, are you going to answer my question or not?”

“It was a moment of weakness okay!” She exclaimed, finally admitting it to herself and to her best friend. “There was always an excuse to get me alone. To discuss the divorce or something about the kids. And he’d just … he would charm me, and I would be reminded of why I fell in love with him in the first place then I’d give in.”

“Tuh.” Julian scoffed. “Talk of the divorce like he’s not trying to distract you from the fact that he has not signed those papers.” He added, the truth causing her shoulder to sag as she leaned back into her seat.

“I know.”

“Baby, I’m not trying to make you upset —.” He sighed, speaking in a much tender tone. But it was too late. The shame that had been brewing in her stomach for so long had bubbled back up her throat.

“I just need you to really think about this. It has been two years since you have asked for the divorce, Malik keeps stalling signing the papers, under the guise of trying to make it work. But we all know that he is still with that bitch. Like he can’t have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t have any regard for who he’s hurting and that is you and the kids. I need you to be better than your weakness for him. It’s not fair.”

His words were hurtful to hear but Kalani could not argue against them because she knew that they were true. That is why she had decided to begin therapy. She had not slept with Malik in over six months since she had started her therapy session. This round, Kalani had finally shared the truth that she had on tinted with intimacy with her ex-husband despite the separation.

“I KNOW.” Kalani sniffed as her tears threatened to spill over. The tremble in her voice could not be hidden and Julian picked up on it.

“Lani, listen-.”

“Hey, so um — I gotta go. I need to pick up Princess from my aunt’s place.” Kalani quickly spoke out as she rounded the corner into a residential street. “Talk later.”

She did not wait for him to respond as she ended the phone call. Kalani took a deep breath as she put the car into an empty parking spot. She continued to sulk in her seat as the heaviness in her chest had returned. Everything that Julian had said to her were all things that she knew and had known from the first time, she had slept with him after they split.

Stuck in the moment, every time they had done the deed had felt good. In some way, it had felt like she had been reclaiming her power. It felt good to know that in some way, her ex still wanted her. In Kalani’s need to be desired by the man that she was married to for nearly twenty years, she had momentarily lost herself and had forgotten what was important.

The happiness of her children.

So Kalani took in a deep breath and exhaled, wiped away her tears and re-applied her lip gloss. She practised her smile in the rear-view mirror until she was satisfied with a more approachable facial expression. She got out of her car and fixed the legs of her pantsuit before she walked a short distance on the pathway and onto the property.

It did not take any time from her opening the small front gate for the front door to be opened.

“Mummy!” The excited shriek of her young daughter sounded through the air as her little feet carried her as fast as they could towards her. Kalani immediately dent down to her level and opened her arms, waiting for her daughter. She dived into her arms and Kalani could just feel all of that heaviness began to lift away from her heart. As her daughter squeezed her little around her neck, Kalani immediately felt better.

“Hi, my Princess!” She smiled at Tiara. Princess’s little giggles were what she got in response as she pulled back to look into her mother’s eyes.

“I missed you so much, Mummy.”

“I missed you too! Did you enjoy school and time with Auntie Angie?”

“Mhm!” Tiara nodded her head as she played with Kalani’s earrings. “Today, I learnt what a doing word is! And then Auntie Angie baked me a banana cake.”

“The cake is for all of you, not just you baby.” Aunt Angela spoke from behind Tiara which caused Kalani to chuckle as a frown appeared on her little girl’s face.

“Emi doesn’t like banana cake as much as I do!” Tiara exclaimed.

“I know baby. But can we at least save a piece for brother first?”

“Okay.” Her small voice of defeat made Kalani’s heart swoon. She cradled her daughter’s head to her chest as she walked towards the door where Angela had been standing with Tiara’s belongings and the wrapped up banana cake.

“Hi sweetie.” Angela had greeted her as she awkwardly hugged Kalani.

“Hi Auntie.” She replied. It was like she could feel the love outpouring from the embrace. And it took all of her strength to not break down then and there.

“You okay?” Angela asked her. Kalani softly nodded her head, not trusting her words in that moment. She took a deep breath before offering a smile of re-assurance.

“Just need my baby.” Kalani replied. “Thank you for looking after her today.”

“You never have to thank me for that. I love Princess and I love spending time with her.”

After a couple of more minutes of casual conversation, Kalani and Tiara said their goodbyes and then left her aunt’s home. On the journey to pick up Emil, she sang along to the current kid bops that Tiara was currently enjoying. Her daughter filled the car with chatter about what her day at school was and repeated stories of previous adventures. Kalani did not mind at all. Hearing her daughter talk was far more enjoyable than being left with the chaos that was her thoughts.

~

When they had arrived at the local sports and leisure centre, Kalani noticed that by the outdoor astroturf, there was a larger crowd than there should be for a practice on an early Wednesday evening . She walked hand in hand with Tiara towards the grounds and smiled when she noticed the crowds full of young and old cheering on.

No matter how much Emil had tried to teach her, there were still aspects of the game of football that she would never understand. However, that never changed how much Kalani cheered on Emil and supported him. She knew that he had fallen in love with football due to Malik’s love for the sport, his passion came from within, and Emil had the talent to match. If Emil was willing to play, then Kalani was going to do everything that she could to make sure that he continued to play to his greatest heights.

From where Kalani stood, she could tell that it was an intense game for a practise but neither the Red nor Green sides seemed to care. When Emil touched the ball, he sprinted across the field with incredible of the ball and passing by the red players who were trying to defend. Emil then passed the ball to another green player who was open. This player then quickly shot the ball into the net, scoring the winning goal.

The crowd, including Kalani and Tiara cheered for the green shirts.

The game came to an end and with the crowds beginning to disperse, Tiara shot away from Kalani’s side and ran towards his older brother as she screamed his name. She smiled as she watched Emil pick up his little sister and throw her into the air, catch her and then spin her around.

As she proudly watched the moment, she caught a growing crowd from the corner of her eye. She noticed a man standing in the middle with the biggest smile on his face as he tried to greet every one that was surrounding him. That bright smile with the small tooth gap was the first thing that caught her attention. His twisted strands were in a ponytail, but his sides and beard were nicely trimmed in a way that brought attention to his chiselled facial features. Kalani’s eyes travelled to his large and muscular tatted arms that even with his bronzed, umber complexion, the design of the tattooed sleeves stood out. He was dressed simply, in a black, sleeveless knitted vest and what looked like black trousers. Kalani had spent too much time staring at him for her to notice that his jewellery was expensive and some of it was probably custom made.

As if picking up on her inquisitive eyes, the man looked up and stared right at her. She had never seen such an intense yet sincere pair of eyes that were the smoothest of chocolate brown. Kalani bit her lip in embarrassment at being caught looking when he smiled at her. She quickly averted her gaze to her children, who were walking towards her and tried not to think about why the stranger felt vaguely familiar.

“Hi Mum.” Emil greeted her as he placed Tiara down on her feet before reaching towards her and giving her a sideways hug. Kalani reciprocated the hg and patted his sweat drenched curls.

“Hi baby, you were great out there.” She complimented him which caused him to grin.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Any particular reason why you guys were playing like it was the finals of the Premier League?”

“Oh! The owner of the centre is here, and we just wanted to impress him I guess.”

“You were out there acting like he’s like a talent scout.” Kalani chuckled.

“He might as well be. He used to be a sportsperson, so he knows a lot of people.”

“Like Mbappa right?”

“Mbappé, Mum. Mbappé.” Emil corrected her with a roll to his eyes.

“Well, whatever his name is.” Kalani shrugged her shoulders and then picked Tiara into her arms. “Anyway, go get your stuff. We need to be home before 8:30.”

For a fraction of a moment, she saw her son’s gleeful demeanour slip. He nodded his head and then jogged away. Kalani watched as he stopped and talked to the same man that she had made eye contact with. The joy in his face was back once more and it eased the tension within her. She was sending them to their fathers’ for the weekend as she needed some time to herself to re-charge before she embarked on a large project at work.

However, Emil had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with the man that he had once idolised. Emil confessed to enduring the visit for the sake of Tiara, who was still trying to adjust to the separation.

When he came back, they all hurdled into the car and they drove back home, not before stopping for a takeaway pizza collection.

After they had arrived back at their home, Kalani rushed her children to take their evening showers before preparing their bags.

Kalani stayed downstairs as she prepared their dinner. Alongside the pizza, she made a simple arugula salad with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and a balsamic dressing. Once she had set the table and could finally take a sip of her white wine.

She dreaded the weekends when her children were away. Because it forced her to think. It forced her evaluate every single decision that led to this very moment that she was currently residing in.

Her hatred for Malik increased.

Memories of their past floated in front of her. Her and Malik dancing around the kitchen as they cooked whilst Emil set the kitchen table and Tiara narrating stories from her vivid imagination.

They were so happy.

They were so in love.

Where in the fuck did he ever find the time to cheat on her? She wondered.

That was a question that she never got an answer to. And it was a question, she was afraid of what the answer may be. It just was not something that she was ready to confront. Kalani was left to deal with all of that harbouring anger all alone.

“Mummy look! Me and Emi are matching!” Tiara rushed rushed down the stairs with Emil in tow. When Kalani turned her head towards their direction, a laughter full of elation burst from her when she noted that the duo were indeed matching. Tiara was dressed in a hot pink Nike tracksuit that was a contrast to Emil’s grey one.

“She wasn’t going to wear anything else.” Emil commented as they entered the large kitchen area, approaching the sink to wash their hands.

“That’s okay. Princess just wants to be like her big brother huh.” Kalani smiled as she smoothed her daughter’s hair.

“Yep!” Tiara gave them her dazzling smile. “Except, I don’t like football, and he doesn’t like banana cake!” The little girl stated before her focus shifted to the slices of banana cake on the table. “Ooouuu caaaakkee.”

“Not so fast, young lady!” Kalani spoke up which stopped Tiara in her tracks. “Can you eat some pizza first before the cake?”

“Okay, Mummy.” She pouted as she moved to sit down in her chair by the table. Emil shook his his head as he plated a slice of pizza for himself before sitting down.

They sat in silence as they ate their food, but Kalani could tell from her son’s solemn expression that something was bothering him.

“You okay baby?” She asked him as a worried expression marked her face.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He offered her a smile that she didn’t believe.

“You sure? You know that you can always talk to me, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just -.” Emil stopped talking before he let out a sigh. He then turned his attention to Tiara who was focused on trying to do a cheese pull. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” He concluded.

Kalani swallowed as she tried to not be disappointed with his response. Outside of the pure anger that was palpable whenever his father was mentioned, Emil had concealed his emotions about the divorce from her, always giving her that same answer of not being ready to talk. She had offered for him to go to therapy but he refused, saying that he did not need it.

“I caught him cheating Mum, not killing somebody.” He had said to her after the therapy suggestion. She dropped it then, however as her sessions continued, the more she wanted to push for Emil to go. But she was not going to force his hand. He’d go when he was ready.

“How’s this? When you come back, I’ll take the day off work and break you out of school and we do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Emil replied as a small smile returned to his face. Kalani reached over and softly pinched his cheek.

“That’s my boy.” She wicked at him.

They finished dinner in a much better mood with Emil updating her on his coming football schedule so that she could make time for it in her diary. And it wasn’t long after they had cleared the table did the doorbell ring.

Kalani glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was 8:40pm.

A cloud of tension suddenly covered the serenity of their home as she realised who was at the front door. Kalani looked at her son, who was already moving to collect Tiara from her position in her play area by the living room.

“Give me five minutes, I need to talk to your father about something.” She said to him. Emil nodded his head.

“Princess come on, gotta make sure that you have all of your toys ready.” He said before picking her up and giving her a piggy-back ride up the stairs which caused her to squeal with each step.

Kalani mentally prepared herself as she dried her hands with a hand towel before she headed to the door.

With one more pep talk, she swung the door open and met her ex-husband with a close-lipped smile with her body blocking the entrance.

Standing shy of 6 foot 2 inches with a rich, tawny complexion, a shaved head and trimmed goatee – Malik was a physically handsome man. At forty-three, he kept himself fit, had an impeccable wardrobe (that she introduced him to) and a gorgeous smile that her daughter inherited. Full lips with slick words that could charm the pants off a recluse. She would know, they’d been working on her for close to two decades.

“Hi Lani.” He smiled down at her.

“Hi Malik.” Her tone was curt, which caused his cheeky expression to slip by minor fraction, but she caught it.

“How are you?” He asked. “You look beautiful as ever.” He complimented her, trying to work his charm as he had done so many times before.

It wasn’t going to work this time.

“Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes before she moved to step outside. She drew the door close and left it slightly agar.

“I need to talk to talk to you about something.”

“Are the kids okay?” He worried.

“They’re as fine as they can be. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Then what?”

“When are you going to sign the papers, Malik? You’ve been putting them off for far too long now.”

“What do you mean sign?” He frowned in confusion. “I thought that we were taking this time to figure things out.”

“What things?!” Kalani sternly exclaimed in a hushed voice. “You refused couple’s counselling. Emil doesn’t want therapy and wont talk to me about it. Tiara thinks you’re working on a big project at work because she doesn’t understand that we’re separated.” As the words spat out of her mouth, the angrier she became. “Let’s not fucking forget, that little girlfriend of yours is still around and you thought that I didn’t know about it.”

“She’s not Kalani!” Malik quickly tried to shut down her accusation.

“Oh please!” She scoffed as she looked at him up and down in disgust. “Her perfume is lingering on you right now. I should know, I was washing it off for years!” She hissed.

Kalani watched as Malik tried to sniff his clothes and that disgusted her even more as she could see the gears in his mind churning up an excuse.

“Listen, it’s not like that.” He began to say.

“I don’t give a shit what it’s like. I want those divorce paper signed and delivered to my office by Monday. If not then no more nice Kalani, I’ve put up with your shit for too long.”

Without giving Malik a chance to reply, she opened the door just as she picked up on the patter of feet rushing down the stairs. Tiara zoomed past her and dove into her father’s legs, hugging them.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” She chanted, bouncing with excitement. Malik picked her up into his arms and gave him one of his practised smiles as he peppered her face with kisses.

“My gorgeous girl! You’re getting so big!” He said which caused Tiara to grin.

“Look! My tooth fell out and the tooth fairy gave me one pound and Mummy told me to add it to my piggy bank!”

“Oh, that’s so awesome Princess!”

“When all my teeth fall out, I’m gonna be rich!”

“Oh, I bet!” Malik tickled her sides which caused another high-pitched squeal to leave Tiara. In all of her rage, it was the joy of her daughter that mattered to her. Emil trotted to her side, holding their weekend bags.

“You got everything baby?” She asked him. He nodded his head.

She hated having to send him with his father, but she did not trust Malik to care for Tiara without Emil’s assistance. She brought in her son for a tight hug and kissed the side of his head. “It’s just two days and you’ll be back.”

Emil sighed at those words before nodding his head. “Bye Mum.” He mumbled before he kissed her cheek and walked past Malik without acknowledging him. She could see that Malik was trying to not let that get to him but kept a brave face for Tiara. It may be horrible to admit but it felt nice to know that there was one more person who hated his guts the way she did.

‘Right, Princess, you’re going to be on our best behaviour for your father, okay?” Kalani said to Tiara.

“Mhm.” Tiara nodded her head before Kalani placed a kiss on her forehead.

“We’ll talk about what we talked about later.” Malik glared at her.

“Unless it’s about that signature, then we have nothing to talk about.” She glared back.

Kalani waved goodbye to her children as Malik drove away. Once she shut her front door, she let out the biggest sigh of relief as her body relaxed. She had not realised just how tense she had been in the minutes Malik was here.

It had felt like hours.

With her body on autopilot, Kalani finished cleaning up the kitchen and packing away Tiara’s toys before she grabbed her bottles of wine, forgoing the glass and dragged her body up the stairs to her bedroom. As she prepared for her evening bath, she put her favourite playlist on and danced to the music as she stripped down to her bathing suit.

Once her tub was full of hot water and bubbles, she sank down, laying down her head on the towel. She took a large gulp of her wine and get the bottle down.

With only the sultry voice of Sadé as solace, Kalani let her walls down and cried to her hearts content.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44

[marvelfilth]

Off the deep end (18+)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, dubcon (just to be safe), knife play, spanking, fingering, choking, degradation, mention of blood, alcohol and weed

Summary: "You're going to spread your legs for me. If you're wet, I'll do whatever I want to you. If you're not, I'll leave."

Masterlist

The floor almost vibrates with how loud the bass is, making your ears ring as you frown in search of Tara. She disappeared some time ago to look for another drink, claiming she was good enough to go on her own. You can already feel the ass whopping you're about to be put through for losing sight of her.

You bump into another drunk frat boy when you finally see her, immediately fastening your pace when you notice some asshole wrapped around her.

You already regret the amount of tequila you've drank throughout the night.

In reality, recent news of Ghostface attacks should've kept you locked at home, preferably with sharp objects by your side, but Tara practically begged you to join her at the party, claiming she needed someone to keep her company since she didn't want to third wheel Mindy and Anika, and follow Chad around while he's trying to find Ethan a girlfriend, so you quickly agreed, feeling the need to let loose after months spent panicking about the killings.

The killings that somehow always revolved around Blackmore ever since they transferred there.

You tried not to think too much into that, but soon enough Mindy deemed you trustworthy and gave you a quick, but intense dive into their story. You understood it all a bit better after that.

And installed a security system.

So yeah, you needed that drink, a couple of them, actually.

"Hey." You get her attention and pull at her hand, but she resists. "It's time to go." You say, watching the way she's blinking slowly, heavily leaning on the arm of the asshole.

"I'm fine. You can go, don't wait for me." She giggles and tugs him up the stairs.

You stop for a second to take a deep breath before following them. Her palm is sweaty in your hand when you tug her back, catching her as stumbles down the stairs.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" She groans, trying to pry away.

"Yeah, what the fuck?" The asshole pushes you against the wall, leering over you before he's sent flying down with a precise punch to his jaw.

"Sam, are you insane?" Tara shouts over the loud music and marches away with a huff when her sister sends her a seething look. You make a move to follow her, but sag back against the wall when you see Chad hot on her heels.

Your attention is pulled to the older woman when you feel gentle fingers cup your jaw. "Are you okay?" Sam asks, her eyes flickering all over your face. Your chest tightens and you fight the urge to lean into her soft palm and press kisses all over her fingertips.

You sigh, nodding. "You got here just in time."

There's a groan coming from the floor and Sam snaps her eyes back to the man, her expression darkening as she makes a move to him.

You get in her way, catching hold of her wrists before she could move any further. "Let's just go, okay? He's not worth it."

Her jaw clenches and you can clearly see the debate that's happening in her head.

"He was going to hurt Tara. He hurt you." She snarls, her eyes trained on the whimpering man.

"And you stopped him. Let's go check on Tara, okay?"

She relents, begrudgingly, and dutifully follows you outside.

The fight between the sisters is anything, but pretty.

You really don't want to stay to see the rest of it, so you wave Mindy over and tell her your uber is waiting around the corner. She looks skeptical for a second, but then there's mentions of therapy and her attention is pulled back to the fight as she mutters something about calling her when you get home safe.

You nod and quickly disappear around the corner, happy to delay the inevitable confrontation. Sam might've been worried at the party, but it doesn't mean she won't chew you out as soon as she's done with Tara. You just hope she won't be as angry tomorrow.

Luckily you live not far away, so you're not even worried, whistling some tune as you make your way home, your eyes dropping slightly from alcohol and exhaustion. Sober you would've thought it to be way too fucking dark and creepy to be walking alone down the alley to your apartment complex, but you're tipsy on tequila and tequila always makes you a little too reckless, so you throw caution to the wind and continue your way.

And then you see something out of the corner of your eye and freeze, when you realize that a man just turned to follow you down the alley. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see him pull out something shiny from his pocket.

You start moving faster, almost jogging the rest of the way and turn around before rounding the corner.

The man is gone.

You make it up the stairs in record time considering your wobbly knees, and sag against the door once you're finally safely inside.

It's nearing midnight, you note, sending Mindy a quick text before making your way to the bathroom. You are tired, but not tired enough to wake up feeling gross after a night out, so you take your time under the hot stream, washing away the smell of alcohol and weed.

And then you hear something fall in the kitchen.

You frown and step out of the shower, drying yourself in the process. You open the door and peek outside, barely breathing to make sure you don't miss anything strange.

When nothing happens again you sigh, wrapping the towel around your still wet body and go to the kitchen to investigate. If your pan fell from its hook again you'll have to ask Chad to come over and fix it for you.

You freeze when you see it swinging from side to side on the hook, clutching at your towel as you turn around to grab your phone, only to run into a solid, cloaked form.

"Hello, Y/n."

You barely register the distorted voice before you're being yanked by your hair and pushed against the counter, a knife flashing in your line of vision.

"Your parents didn't tell you not to walk alone at night? Especially when there's a serial killer on the loose." They continue, pressing the edge of the knife to your neck.

You look up at the Ghostface mask. Dread fills your chest and you shake in their hold, eyes filling with tears while you think of a possible escape, but your body goes numb and your mouth won't open, so you just stand there, gaping at the imposing figure.

"Pathetic little thing." They growl, before placing the knife against your chest and slicing your towel away.

You blink when it falls at your feet, and the sight suddenly spurs you into action.

You grab the pan from behind you and swing it hard against the intruder, but they easily avoid it, catching your arm in an ironclad grip and turning you around to press you against the cold countertop. You hiss through gritted teeth and throw your heel as hard as you can against their kneecap, sending them tumbling to the floor in a heap of black fabric.

You don't get a chance to run too far when they catch your ankle, making you fall face first on the floor. You're turned on your back before weight settles on your hips.

"Maybe not so pathetic," the voice sounds almost pleased before they pin your hands above your head.

You're suddenly all too aware of your state of undress when you feel their eyes on you. You try to squirm, but they don't budge, the Ghostface mask tilting as they look you up and down.

You grow embarrassingly red in the chest, trying to think of something, anything to distract the murderer from you, but you're not sure there's anything good enough to get their eyes off you at the moment.

"Who's blood is that?" You blurt, eyeing the knife on the floor.

They tilt their head to the other side. "Not yours."

You suck in a sharp breath, wincing at your stupidity.

"Okay…" you whimper, closing your eyes, "are you going to kill me?"

They pick up the knife and raise it over your chest before lowering to trail the blade over the skin of your breasts.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"I would've killed you by now if I wanted to," they say and release your wrists to take hold of your neck, not squeezing, just resting fingers on the tender skin of your neck.

The gesture sends shivers down your spine.

"Aren't you pretty like this?" The knife point barely grazes your nipple and you bite your lip, stifling a whimper. You push against their shoulders, digging your nails into the robe as you try to keep them away, squirming in their hold.

"Let me go, please." Your whispers turn desperate when their fingers squeeze around your throat, making it hard to breathe. "Please, I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

You nod feverishly, not trusting your voice.

They pull away, the weight on your hips completely disappears when they shift to sit to your side, trailing the blade down to your belly button.

"Then we'll play a little game." They chuckle and you open your eyes, waiting for them to continue. "You're going to spread your legs for me. If you're wet, I'll do whatever I want to you. If you're not, I'll leave."

You stop breathing altogether, suddenly hyper aware of the wetness pooling between your thighs. You shift unconsciously, edging away from the Ghostface in hopes of escaping before they inevitably notice your arousal. You're shaking, your sole focus on the person that made you tremble with a few simple touches.

You don't know what you feel more, repulsion or arousal, but then their fingers wrap around your jaw and you know you don't have time to debate your feelings.

You have to do something, and you have to do it fast.

"Don't even think about it," they growl, getting dangerously close to your face.

In a flash, they have you on their lap, legs spread on either side of their hips as they push you down hard against their thigh. You moan loudly, rocking your hips against their dark pants, leaving a trail of wetness.

"Fuck," you whimper, clawing at their shoulders, "please…"

They slap your thigh, stopping your movements with a heavy grip of your hip bone. "Please what? Please stop?"

Your head falls in the crook of their neck as you whine, desperately trying to move.

Fuck this. You'll think about the consequences tomorrow.

"Don't stop." You breath against the mask, tugging their gloved hand up to your neck.

Their fingers wrap around the back of your neck and then you're pushed down on your stomach, your legs bent at the knees and forced apart before they deliver a hard spank on your ass, making you cry out against the hardwood floor.

"Such a slut."

Another spank.

"Whoring yourself out to a stranger, a murderer."

You try to rub your thighs together, your pussy clenching when they land another slap to your reddening ass, the sound echoing through the room. Suddenly, they pull away and there's shuffling of the fabric before a pair of leather gloves lands in front of your face.

Your hips buckle in anticipation.

"Don't get too excited," they chuckle, before landing a palm against your wet center, making your whole body twitch.

You pant, reveling in the feeling of their soft fingers gently soozing the pain, gliding through your folds to settle against your slit. You hold your breath, waiting for them to finally push inside and fuck your brains out when another loud spank echoes through the room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"You look beautiful like this, fuck," they breath out, spreading your lower lips and teasing your entrance, pulling quiet moans out of you.

Your whole body is on fire and you can feel your arousal leaking down your thigh before it's caught by a hot, wet tongue.

"Mhm," the person, a woman, hums and you realize she just threw away the mask with the voice changer in favor of tasting you.

You don't have a chance to say anything when her tongue slides up your slit, lapping at the wetness and dipping down to tease your throbbing clit with the tip of her tongue. Your knees buckle, your body shaking from pleasure. She tugs your head by your hair, pulling you up against her front when you nearly fall, her fingers gliding down your stomach to disappear inside you in one deep thrust. Your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back against her shoulder as she sets up a fast rhythm, her other hand reaching across to play with your breasts.

"Faster-" you whine, burrowing your nose in her soft hair, clawing at her forearm.

She pulls her fingers out and lands another slap on your inner thigh in warning, and turns her head to bite down at the juncture of your neck, making sure to leave a mark.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me," she whispers and you think you recognise the voice, but her fingers on your aching nub feel too heavenly to place it and your eyes are too heavy to listen to the command, so you whine and tug her face back to your neck, moaning when she litters it with wet kisses.

She circles your clit with her thumb so slowly and softly, barely applying pressure before diving back in and curling her fingers inside of you, making you come in two hard thrusts.

×××

"Did you get home safe yesterday?" Mindy asks, nudging you with her knee.

You look up from your book, squinting against the sun, your hand flying up to fiddle with the soft fabric of your turtleneck. "Yeah. I sent you a text, right?"

Mindy groans, falling back on the soft grass and nods, throwing her arm over her eyes. "I called you, though, but you didn't pick up. Got me worried for a second."

You wince, hiding your face behind the book. "Sorry. Fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow."

You don't mention the fact that you don't remember ever going to your bedroom, let alone falling asleep. The last thing you remember from yesterday is Ghostface wrapped around you, taking you apart. You stifle the urge to run your fingers along the fabric that covers your bruised skin. It's really not the time to think about it.

She rolls her eyes before looking over at you. "Lucky you. I really hate you right now."

"What did I do?" You ask, affronted.

She pushes your shoulder, sending you a dirty look. "You should've seen the look on Sam's face when she realized you already left. If she was angry with Tara before, she turned positively livid when she realized you went alone. She wanted to follow you, but Tara intervened, calling her overbearing and overprotective and it got even worse. We had to call an uber because Tara refused to get in Sam's car, and Sam didn't even look at her when she drove off to God knows where."

You put down your book. "She didn't go home?" You asked, tugging at your bottom lip.

"She did, a few hours later and drunk out of her mind," Mindy rolls her eyes, exasperated. "They really should talk one of these days or I'll stab them myself."

You chuckle, but your mind is still stuck on the revealed information. You decide to think about it later when you notice Tara stomping in your direction with Chad by her side. "Hey." She mumbles, still clearly in a bad mood.

You send them a small wave and tune out their conversation, butting in only when necessary and mostly keeping to yourself, trying your hardest to focus on the words in your book and not on the way your whole body aches.

"By the way, I'm kinda grounded so we're hanging at my place tonight." Tara's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you groan, burrowing your face in the book.

Fucking great. You can already feel the headache coming. Sam is going to have a field day and you won't even be able to retaliate while your body is still hyper sensitive from being fucked out of your mind.

Someone pinches your side. "Don't be too sad, Sam promised booze," Chad says, sending you a wink.

You let out a soft laugh, your head falling on his shoulder in the process. He grins, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a bone crushing hug. You sag against his chest, content to bask in the warmth of your friends' company, until you feel someone boring holes into your forehead.

You look up and see Tara's questioning look, her eyes flickering between you and Chad, and you roll your eyes and shake your head at the smaller girl, jokingly pushing him away and standing up to go to your last class of the day.

"You coming?" You ask and she nods, following a step behind you, hesitating to start a conversation.

You sigh. "Tara, you know I have zero interest in Chad."

She runs into you when you suddenly stop, and scrunches up her nose, hiding her eyes behind her hand. "It's not that," she grumbles and snakes her hand around your elbow, tugging you through the crowd. "I wanted to say thank you. You know, for yesterday. I was really stupid."

You look at your friend, your heart squeezing in your chest at the vulnerable look she sends you. "Anytime," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and she finally relaxes.

×××

"My favorite person!" Quinn beams from the couch when you step inside the apartment, holding a bag full of snacks. "Hey there, girlfriend." She presses a kiss to your cheek and takes away the bag, leading you to the kitchen.

Everyone is already here since you were the one to go to the store. Your last class passed without a hitch, and even though Tara kept sending you weird looks every now and then, you figured she was just jealous. That was the main reason why you pushed her in Chad's direction when she tried to join you.

You're more than happy to see them sitting side by side on the small couch, hunched and giggling over something on his phone.

You blush when you notice Sam standing in the corner, leaned over the stove, slowly stirring something in a boiling pot. Even you can admit she looks like shit from the night spent drinking, her hair a disheveled mess and her eyes bloodshot.

"All these snacks and you're still the best one," Quinn smirks, throwing away the paper bag and taking the food to the living room.

You snort and give her the finger.

Sam whirls around with a spatula in her hand and sends a dark glare to the back of Quinn's before looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on her face, taking in your attire, her eyes lingering on your neck.

You stifle the urge to fiddle with your shirt again and curl your hand into fists, nails digging into your palms.

"Y/n." She eventually mumbles in greeting and turns back around to rummage through the fridge.

"Sam." You look around and decide to settle on the counter. "What are you cooking?"

She tenses, the muscles of her shoulders straining under her tank top as she holds her hands in the air, mid way to the fridge. She sends you a look over her shoulder and takes out a bottle of orange juice.

"Pasta. Want some?" She asks like she's just trying to be polite and not actually offering you a meal.

You look down at your feet, your mood dampened by a single sentence. You feel like you deserve the cold shoulder. "I'm good, thanks." You hop off the counter and turn around to leave.

She catches your wrist. "Not so fast."

You try to not pay attention to the way your skin gets hot all over at the simplest touch, fixing your eyes on hers. You think you can drown in their depth.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." You whisper, placing your palm over hers, and gently squeeze her fingers.

Her eyes darken and she looks down at the motion, her lips parting slightly.

You pray she'll let you off easy.

"Y/n, you need to see this." Mindy calls out, gaining your attention.

Sam blinks, her brows furrow. "We'll talk later," she promises and leads you to the living room and tugs you to sit next to her on the soft cushions, her fingers still wrapped around your wrist. You sag against the pillow and focus on the TV.

"Another fatal stabbing happened yesterday just before midnight. A man in his early thirties was stabbed seventeen times…"

"That's your neighborhood, right?" Tara asks, her face a picture of concern. "You always go down this alley."

"Yeah," you gulp, staring at the photo of the man who followed you yesterday.

The grip on your wrist turns almost possessive, and you turn to look at Sam, choking on your breath when you see a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Your chest is starting to feel too heavy, and your breathing becomes labored. Suddenly, you're back at the apartment, with Ghostface pinning your wrists and the blood on the knife now makes perfect sense.

Ghostface wasn't there to hurt you.

She saved you.

___________________________

Do we want a part two?