#I would have gone before my decompression if I had known it would be a problem

[silverior968]

Tried to go donate blood with my friend today but it turns out that my Chiari decompression counts as an organ transfer and I am thus banned from donating blood for life </3

The people at the establishment were super nice and understanding though, and I got to sit with my friend while they had their blood drawn.

It kinda sucks though because I have had so many blood tests done during my life and I know that my right arm provides some really good bloodflow, I would have been such a good donor but alas

[majoryeager104]

what about touya x a reader with family issues? you can choose what type of issues but they would understand each other so good ykkkkk butttt how would he found out if he didn’t know reader? i just love your touya content

thnx anonymous bestie and yess I love this idea 🫶🫶🫶

Summary: Touya gets into an argument with you, not realizing that he’d flesh out memories of your past. Warnings: language, toxic and abusive family traumas, angsty but it ends in a sweet way

a/n this is partially based off of my own experiences, but it was actually nice to write this, kinda helped me rant yk

“Do you realize how stupid that was!?”

“Im sorry”

Touya groaned in exasperation at your response, shoulders tense as the one sided argument rolled on. You’d nearly gotten hurt on a mission, again, and he had to swoop in and save you, again. He didn’t want to fight, but your apologetic deflections and blank expressions were making it harder for him to reach a conclusion. It was like you’d shut down under the pressure. It was worrying, not something he’d ever seen you do before, and it concerned him the way you loosely resembled some kind of abandoned puppy left in the cold. “Stop staring at me like that!” He snapped, rather loudly, biting his tongue as he saw you flinch, your eyes glassy as you nodded, blinking slightly as you attempted to look away, your eyes flickering back at him “please don’t yell, I’m s-“ you were cut off as he stepped towards you, grabbing your shoulders, a determined concern painted across his face. “Stop. Apologizing” he said sternly, his brows furrowed slightly as you managed a trembling nod, looking down to avoid his gaze. He sighed in defeat, all frustration now gone as he watched your tears fall from your now hidden eyes “Why are you crying?” He asked, softer this time, trying to coax you into decompression. You sighed, a shaky, shuddering breath, trying to calm your nerves “hey” he said, pulling you close, squeezing you against him “why’re you scared?” he asked quietly, rubbing you back as he rocked you back and forth, your trembling movements confirming his suspicions- you had looked like a deer in headlights because you essentially were one at that moment, but he couldn’t figure out why. Did he say something too harsh? Was it his face? Was that what scared you? Where was this coming from? After a few minutes, he got his answer, sitting next to you silently on the couch. Your parents had always been especially strict- you’d grown up knowing that anything you thought you had, they could take away. Privacy, friends, even your childhood toys, the few you had. And what was scarier than the way they’d treat the things you loved, was the way they’d treat you afterwards. Yelling, screaming, blaming and gaslighting to the point where you couldn’t handle any of it anymore. It was less of a physical abuse and more of a mental one, something you were yet to bounce back from. You’d shut down under this kind of pressure because you’d never known how to fight it, fawning under the mental torment of your fathers booming voice as he shouted over all your thoughts, leaving you frozen in place, and terrified. Or as Touya described, a deer in headlights. He sat and listened as you listed the isolated childhood you’d lived, how you’d never gotten to have friends, because every time you thought you had them, you’d be ripped back into the bubble of your parents idea of a firm well structured household. How they treated you like some type of soldier to be disciplined at 6, how they taught you to be “mature” by burning away any semblance of childlike wonder you had left at 7, how they belittled you into being “respectful” by resorting to shouting at you when you talked too often in public at 8, taking your stuffed dog, the only toy you had left at that point, and burning it in front of you to punish you for having the audacity to try and talk back at 9, making you into less of a person, and more of a mouse, if anything.

It sort of reminded him of his own traumas- the back and forth of Enjis affections, how he’d praise Touya one moment, and toss him aside the next. How Enji let him watch as Shoto took his place. How his punishments were of the same kind of isolation as your own. How he only had Natsuo to talk to, but even then he was left alone. Alone. That was it. You were both alone.

But he now supposed he was lucky, as now you had each other He nodded, holding you as he listened as you spoke- you were conditioned not to talk back, conditioned to crumble under the words of those who deemed themselves worthy of doing so, just because. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that…sorry, pretty” he said, pulling you closer, glad your tears were finally gone, your eyes still slightly pink, even in the dim light of the room as the two of you sat in silence for a moment

“you know…” Touya finally spoke up, finding something to say as you peered up at him, blinking in the low light. “…you don’t need to be scared of me…please don’t be…I’m not gonna do that shit to you, you know that?” You were silent for a moment as you watched him, his mouth opening again as he fully collected his thoughts “its okay though…you know how my childhood went…guess we’re both traumatized huh?” He chuckled, playing with your hair. “We were both just kids conditioned to be walked all over… so I know how you feel… I won’t yell at you like that again, I promise.” He smiled softly, pulling you impossibly closer. He couldn’t help but feel bad for how he’d put you through that, but he also couldn’t help but be glad he’d pulled you back from it. The way you bounced back from that suppressed fear made him hopeful- like maybe you wouldn’t have to fear it anymore, and maybe he’d be able to help you get to that point…or maybe that one day he’d be able to do the same with his trauma too. But he settled in, pulling you closer on the small space of the couch, because that was a story for another time, and right now he owed you some make-up cuddles.

(Man trauma dumping through fanfiction is peak 👌😌 and Touya being perfect once again was also peak )

Banner Creds to Artist 🙌🙌🙌 lmk if you recognize it in the comments so I can add their tag here 🙏🙏🙏

[nurse-floyd]

Meltdown

Pairing: Max x reader

Warnings: autistic meltdown and minor injury.

Max comes home to find you in the throws of a meltdown.

This is just my experience of autism, everyone’s experience varies widely blah blah, this is fiction. Enjoy!

It hadn’t been the best day. Work had been stressful and you knew when that happened you weren’t in for a good night. Already overwhelmed and overstimulated, one little thing and it’d be game over. Meltdown. Still you were excited for Max to be home and for you to spend the night off together and a few days at home before you both went off for the next Grand Prix.

You gathered the ingredients out of the fridge deciding on chili for dinner, something simple and home-cooked for you both to enjoy. You put on your noise canceling headphones, put on your favorite playlist and began chopping the ingredients. Everything felt okay, you felt yourself slowly decompressing from the day and finally relaxing a little.

Max had come home half way through you prepping ingredients. He’d known you hadn’t had a good day, he made sure to not spook you when he came in and placed a kiss on your cheek, letting your mostly get on with dinner as he busied himself unpacking and showering off the grime from the plane. Soon, the pair of you would be tucked up on the sofa in your comfortable clothes, eating chili and spending time with the man you loved. You placed the bread rolls in the oven to heat up; everything was going well. Too well.

The timer went off for the bread and you grabbed it from the oven and sat it on the side, stirring the chili so it wouldn’t burn. You grabbed the bowls out of the cupboard and set them down, ready to plate up.

As you turned to grab the bread, you completely forgot how the cooking sheet was. The shock the burn sent through your hand and up your arm was what sent you over the edge. Everything felt too much; how tight the headphones were around your ears, the music that was doing well to drown out the emotions was now too loud and too overwhelming. You ripped the headphone from your ears, screaming as you threw them across the room. It was the only way you felt you could get out your emotions that were bubbling up inside.

Max heard the loud clutter which was followed by your scream and a loud thud. His heart pounded in his chest as he raced toward the kitchen where the commotion had come from, not knowing what he was going to find. He found you sitting on the kitchen floor, your back against the counter, your knees against your chest and your head buried in your knees. Your body shook with sobs and violent gasps. Max could see the chili bubbling over and the bread rolls and pan strewn across the floor where you’d dropped the pan and he got an idea of what could have happened. He turned the stove off and moved the pan from the heat before he was on his knees in front of you.

You were too far gone however and didn’t even notice he was in front of you until you heard his voice breaking through your sobs, “Y/N, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

You looked up at him, unable to catch your breath as you held your hand toward him. He could see the red angry blisters that were already forming on your hand and looked at you with a soft expression.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” He held his hands out, palm up and kept his voice low as he waited for you to make the first move. You nodded, grateful that he’d asked first. You practically crawled into his lap, wanting to just be held by him for a moment. He wrapped his arms tightly around you in response as you buried your head into his hoodie and breathed him in. The grounding pressure and his comforting scent was enough to begin regulating you just that little bit. He wanted to get a look at your hand first but he also knew he needed you calm and to not lose your trust before he could. You were in such a fragile state right now and while the burn needed treatment, you needed him more right now.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he reassured as he squeezed his arms around you tighter. He found the deep pressure often worked in calming you down when your mind and body were so overwhelmed like this. He kept his breathing even, which was easy for you to follow. You could hear the soft beat of his heart against your ear and the low vibration of his voice in his chest as he murmured words of comfort to you.

“There we go.”

“Breathe…”

“I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know how long he held you there for, but you didn’t care. Once he felt you sag a little in his arms, the meltdown sapping the last of your energy, Max softened his grip on you to get a look at your face. “Feel better?”

You didn’t want to speak. You were too tired and always felt awful after a meltdown. You nodded your response, causing him to crack a small smile and place a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. “Would it be okay if I took a look at your hand now?”

Your eyes widened a little as you clutched your hand closer to your chest. The last thing you wanted was to have any sort of medical attention or more pain and discomfort, but the logical side of you also knew that he needed to look.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Max encouraged, holding out a hand. You nodded and slowly reached out your hand and placed it in his. Max turned your wrist gently to get a good look at the burn. “Okay. It’s not too bad, but we need to run it under some cold water and put on some burn gel.”

“What about dinner? I ruined it…” you said, getting a look at the mess of bread and crumbs on the floor and the smoking pot of chili that you knew by the smell had burnt. Your voice hitched and he could see how close you were to crying again.

Max was quick to stop you. “You didn’t ruin anything sweetheart. It happens; you’re not to blame.”

He guided you to the bathroom with a protective hand around your waist and sat you on the edge of the bathtub as he turned on the faucet and held your hand underneath. You hissed and tried to pull your hand away but his hold was firm but gentle as he held it in place, “I know sweetheart. I’m sorry.” After you’d held your hand under the running water for long enough, Max gently patted your hand dry and applied a layer of the burn cream and bandage to hold it in place.

He helped you to your feet and guided you to the sofa, placing one of your favorite soft blankets over your lap. “I’m going to clean up and then we’re going to get take out, ice cream and watch a movie cuddled together. How does that sound?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. It wasn’t the perfect night the two of you had planned, but it wasn’t over yet and you were going to try not to let anything else ruin it. With Max by your side, that’s all you needed.

[trohpi]

@microficmay • day 10: rise & fall • 869 words

cross-posted on ao3

In Marlene’s humble opinion, there are only three known constants in this ever-changing world: Chocolate is the superior ice cream flavour, Joan Jett is cool as fuck, and Regulus Black is one regrettably attractive poncy bastard— one that needs to get knocked off his high horse. Desperately.

Seeing as Madam Hooch had banned Marlene from speaking during the start of their games many moons ago following some titillating banter with the Black brother in question, they can only hope that the challenging glint in their eyes is enough to send the intended message.

You’re going down, Black.

The other Seeker merely raises his eyebrow, all haughty and aristocratic as if to say, That’s what you said last time.

By Merlin, does Marlene hate him.

All too soon the shrill blast of Madam Hooch’s whistle rings clear, and the game begins. Within moments, they’ve risen into the clouds as their eyes scan for the ever-elusive glint of gold. Across the pitch he sees Regulus doing the same which only fuels the flames of his stubborn resolve.

Marlene will catch the Snitch before Regulus does, if only so they can rub that sweet Gryffindor victory in his annoyingly pretty face.

“Oi, Marlene!” someone calls from some feet away. They drag their eyes away from Regulus and look over to see Sirius, Beater’s bat held loosely in his fist as he hovers nearby. His narrowed eyes bore holes into them.

They level him with the blankest of stares. “What?”

Sirius huffs and turns to fly off, but not before he calls over his shoulder wryly, “Stop ogling my brother and do your job!”

“Oh, fuck you, Black!” he calls after his friend, his face burning.

In the end, it really doesn’t take long for them to see the Snitch, nor does it take long for Regulus to take notice of their sudden burst of flight as they hightail it across the pitch. Within seconds he’s right behind them, and the race to win officially begins.

If Marlene had to choose their favourite part of Quidditch, it would be this. There’s nothing quite like the exhilarating rush of speed, the bobbing and weaving through the air as they push themself to the limit, the thrill of racing against fellow Seekers. The thrill of racing against Regulus, who is one of the most skilled players Marlene has ever gone up against— not that they’d ever tell him that.

Marlene’s heart races as they push forward, the Snitch tantalisingly close. Scooting higher on his broom, reaching out with his right hand, he can almost taste victory in the air.

That is, of course, until the Bludger.

Regulus shouts out as the bewitched ball flies in between the two Seekers, crashing into the tail end of Marlene’s broom. It tips over, and everything seemingly stops.

Their heart stutters as the freeing feeling of weightlessness disappears, replaced by heaviness as their broom slips from their fingers and gravity takes over, dragging them down.

Marlene gasps as they plummet.

“Fuck!” they hear Regulus cry from above, and they barely have time to ponder how odd it is to hear him curse before he is diving after them.

It feels like eternity, but it must be only moments before his slender fingers grab them by the wrist and catch them from midair. He grips onto them fiercely as he slowly descends to the ground.

“Merlin, Marlene,” he gasps as they touch down, immediately tossing the broom to the side as he cups their face in his hands. “Never do that again.”

“Never do what, get knocked off my broom? Not like I can bloody control that,” they say breathlessly. His hands are cold on their face, and they find that that’s all they can really think about.

Regulus decompresses, sighing shakily. They hesitate before clearing their throat.

“Is now bad timing to tell you that I caught the Snitch?”

Regulus hands fall from their face in shock. “You what?”

“Right before I fell,” Marlene says, opening his enclosed right hand to showcase the Snitch lying within. Distantly, he hears the crowds go wild as the commentator screams about Gryffindor’s victory. Regulus blinks in astonishment.

“Guess this means I can add another point to my wins column,” they add smugly. Regulus hums, disagreeing.

“I’d beg to differ. I won today.”

They splutter. “Wha— You absolutely did not!”

“I absolutely did,” he says calmly.

They wave the Snitch in front of his face. “I literally beat you!”

“And I literally just saved your life,” he shoots back.

Marlene groans dramatically, deflating. “I hate you so, so much.”

Regulus opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off by the sudden loud exclamation of, “What the actual fuck!”

Sirius throws his broom onto the ground where he just touched down, storming over to them.

“You fell! You seriously fell!”

“Well spotted,” Regulus quips. Sirius ignores him.

“Does your weird flirting with my brother have to include nearly falling to your death?” Sirius demands, throwing his arms up in the air theatrically.

Regulus’ lips twitch upwards and Marlene’s face heats even as he scowls.

“Shove off, Sirius. Don’t you and Crouch have your own brand of weird flirting to do?”

“Touché, McKinnon. Touché.”

[captainsarahscratches]

Assistance Pt. 2

.......

part 2, requested, reader and Kenny have started to develop a fwb relationship, but things get complicated as the two are put into a complicated storyline.

......

TW: Lil’ bit angsty, jealousy, fwb relationship, explicit sexual content, SMUT, also this is very long

......

Three months had gone by since that night. It was now a regular occurance for you and Kenny to sleep together every few days or so. It started out as a secret, something the two of you found fun, a more... interactive, way to decompress from life and work. You both knew it was only a carnal attraction and that neither one of you have ever mentioned the potential of actually having a relationship together. Although, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering into the world where you and Kenny were public and in a real relationship. You wanted more. Hell, you wanted more that night in the hotel, but you knew he didn’t. You decided early on to accept the nature of the two of you, and hope it wouldn’t end for a long time.

Meanwhile, you started to gain a bit of momentum with AEW fans, which you were ecstatic about. Kenny, he was more proud than anyone, not that he would ever admit it, but he was. He had offered multiple times to train you and give pointers, but you denied him each time. You were certain that it would only further complicate the nature of your relationship. So, you went to a few old friends for advice instead. Before AEW, you had a few spots on WWE but were mainly shoved in the back behind the typical highlighted female wrestlers. However, you always kept your friendships close.

Jon and Claudio were like big brothers to you. The report between you and them was always jovial but supportive. When you asked the two of them to help with some pointers in the ring, they were more than happy to help. You of course were friends with Rene as well. She always asked you if you would go and propose a storyline to Tony and guys. "What about Kenny?" she asked

"What about him?" you felt yourself get a little flustered and afraid that she knew about you and him. "I bet you, he would listen and get you a new story line, better than just a run in or a mixed tag with Jon." "Maybe, but I don't want to ask him for anything like that. Just feels weird." "Why? He's literally always saying to feel comfortable to come to him or the Bucks about that kind of thing. That's kinda his job, here come with me."

She grabbed you by the wrist and took you towards Tony's office, knowing they were about to get done with a preshow meeting. "Kenny! Hey, y/n here won't ask, so I am going to do it. She's been busting her ass and getting more and more over with the fans. I think she needs a full storyline, put her with Jon or something."

Kenny has a smirk on his face, looking down at you and before he could speak Tony comes from behind him. "Well, perfect! We just were talking about new lines, and we wanted to put you with the Elite, but we can do BCC. Hell, we can even do a build up. Fans are already pushing for you to get with Kenny or Yuta, so thats perfect."

You and Kenny both look at him, "What??" Your face is red, and Kenny starts to say thats not what they talked about. "I know, I know, but look we put you with the BCC, play up the part that you and Jon and Claudio have known each other forever. Then you and Yuta get together later on. Gives it like a badass couple thing."

Kenny looks at you, and back at Tony, "So what do you think? I know that's kinda loose, but i like it better than my original idea. I was just going to have you be with the Elite, but I like this better."

"I love it, thank you!" You say excitedly and Looking over to Kenny, "You're okay with being in a romance line with Yuta??" he asks. "I mean. yeah. I dont really have a problem with that.' "Oh really?"

Renee and Tony look on awkwardly, you don't even understand that Kenny's a little hurt by the way you saw no problem with the story line. You look at him confused and he holds back the urge to say something. But he swallows his pride and glances at Tony, "Cool, thats fine with me too. Just don't fall for Yuta." Another awkward silence falls upon the room.

"Heh, okay... Will do my best" you awkwardly laugh off. Kenny looks at his phone and quickly makes an excuse to leave. You start to walk away with Renee, "Well that was weird, but Yay!! You've got some screen time now. And I'll make sure that Jon doesn't take the spotlight, you know he loves to talk." she laughs. "Yeah it will be fun, I just need to get with Wheeler and see how we want to play this out."

"And Kenny," Renee interjects

"What? you reply

"You need to meet with Kenny too, to see how they want to do the whole cat and mouse thing. Tony said they're planning the whole love triangle thing out right? So you need to meet with Ken too." "Oh Yeah, thats true"

"soo... are we just not going to address how Kenny seemed upset that you chose a story line with Wheeler over him?" blushing you say "oh please he's not hurt. He has a big enough ego to keep him safe from falling off a mountain." you laugh

"Oh do I? Well if my ego isn't too big for you, maybe you can make some time and talk about how we're supposed like I would actually want something to do with you in the first place." he said irritated, "Ken, hey, that's not cool" Renee came to your defense. You couldn't think of anything to say as you were holding back tears from his comment. "I- Im just going to go back to the room. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"you dont have to be a dick to her to get her to like her, You're not twelve" Renee told kenny as you walked away. "You don't know what you're talking about" "I think I do, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this. Jist go tell that poor girl that you Like Like her and maybe she'll eat lunch with you tomorrow in the cafeteria." He looked at her in silence, "You're a grown man, just ask her out. And as for the Yuta line, its our job and you know that. Dont make her give up a great opportunity just because you cant step to plate. This is why I -"

"What if I've already messed it up?" she looked confused, "What if I've already given her the idea that I don't want anything to do with her?" He looked at Renee, angry but at himself and looking for real advice. "Then I'd go talk to her, without being a dick, and tell her what you actually want. Oh, and stop with the whole Friends with Benefits bullshit, neither one of you are the type anyway." Kenny had a shocked look on his face, "Dude, its glaringly obvious... We all stay in the same hotels, and you're not as sneaky as you think. Especially y/n, I love her but she cant lie worth shit. I ran into her once and she said she was going for a walk... It was almost one in the morning and we were in Downtown Detroit... Look just go and hope that she still even wants your ass after that stunt."

Kenny quickly left and git his things to meet you at the hotel. You had separate rooms but they were adjoining this time. It made things easier, though apparently it didn't make it more secretive. Kenny checked into his room, and looked in the mirror to make sure he looked okay. He had stopped by drug store on the way to the hotel to buy you flowers, they were beat up but he thought they were still nice. As he was getting up the nerve to knock at your door he could hear the muffled sound of you crying.

You were on the phone, explaining to the other line that you were stupid to think that there was even a chance. He could hear the words, 'I hate. I even let myself get this close to him.' The sentence crushed him, he never wanted to make you feel this way. He never honestly thought that you wanted any more either. In the moment, he wanted to walk away, but his hand continued to knock on the door. He immediately regretted the action as he heard ypu abruptly end the call.

"Ken?" He heard you timidly say towards the door. He stood silent. "Kenny? ... Tyson?" He could hear your steps towards the door and befor he could back away you were face to face. "Uh, hi" He said. You stood silent.

"Look, I'm really sorry Y/N. I was an ass, a huge fucking dick. I- I just I dont like the idea of you being with someone else..." The air felt thick around and the silence was deafening. "I got you these, I know it doesn't make it better. I just, I'm sorry. You're beautiful and smart and funny and kind and I just dont like the idea of sharing you even if its just a story line, you're mine and i Just dont-"

"I'm yours?" You questioned quietly, tears still in your eyes. He looked up sheepishly, and stammered "Not minelike I own you or something, Like you're my girl. Well, not like my girlfriend because i knoe you just want a casual thing...Which is fine, but i Dont know just maybe like I think about being.."

"Ken-"

"... that maybe we could. its stupid forget it sorry."

"Tys-"

" My point is to do the Yuta line and I'll stop being a dick, and I'm sorry."

A moment passes,

"I never said I wanted casual, i thought you did."

"Well, I thought I did at first but the more I think about I dont want anyone else but you. And when Tony said that he was going to put you with Wheeler, the thought of you in his arms pissed me off and I apparently just decided to show my ass. Im sorry"

"It's just the job though,"

"And I know that, and I have done enough of this shit that shoulf be able to separate it from reality, but it just hit me wrong."

"What if we weren't casual?"

He smirked slightly to himself, "Would you being willing to have me after tonight?"

"Oh you definitely have been an ass tonight, and your dumbass made me cry. Which I'm never forgiving by the way, but I like your dumbass. Its one of my favorite parts of you. I lo- I really care about you Kenny. but you cant stunt my career because we have something together."

"I know that, and I never intended to do so. And I- fuck it, Y/N I dont want this, us, to be a casual thing anymore. I want you, I want to be with you. I want to go to bed with you, wake you to you and be with you every day. I don't want to sneak around anymore. I just, I love you damnit and I don't want anyone else thinking they can have you. Y/N will you go ou-"

You reach up and kissed him passionately, your arms around his neck. Deepening the kiss.

Your passion was quickly reciprocated as Kenny cupped your face, kissing you harder and leading you further into the room.

In seconds, the back of your knees hit the bed. Without hesitation, Kenny sweeps you up from under you and lays you on the center of the bed without ever breaking away from your lips. You feel his hands sliding up your thighs and under your shirt. He quickly finds your bare breast and kneeds the soft mound briefly before removing your shirt entirely. Hes quick to connect his mouth to your chest, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive nipples, making sure to leave a mark. You hiss at the pain but he breaks away to look you in the eye, "I know, but I need to make sure everyone knows your mine"

Your legs wrapped around his body as he towers over you giving him the prime opportunity to slip his hands downward and strip you of your shorts.

"God i love when you dont wear panties" He starts to space words apart with kisses on your body, leading to your core. "almost. As Much. As I Love. This. Perfect. Little. Pussy. Right. Here."

You instantly moan, as you feel hes his tongue swipe and circle over your clit. He moans against you causing the an soft vibration where you need it most. "Fuck Ken- God, Right there" You entangle your hands in his hair, pressing him deeper into you. "Fuckkk, Tyson..." You feel his fingers plunge into your pussy, instantly hooking them to hit the deep spot inside you. It never mattered what the situation was, he always knew exactly what and where you needed it most. He could feel you already starting to grip his fingers, when he looks up at you, his blue eyes darkened with lust, his beard scratching along your skin. "Cum for me baby, let me hear you. I want to taste how good I make you feel."

With that you cam undone, moan loudly, screaming his name, you hands clutching the sheets, legs writhing under his weight. But he didn't stop, Kenny kept going until you were babling nonsense before he even took his cock out. Muttering to yourself, trying to catch your breath, he stands, face dripping with your cum and a proud smirk across his face. He rids himself of his pants, his cock springing fre only to immediately be caught by his hand, stoking himself feverishly.

"Fuck y/n look at you. You're fucking perfect, so beautiful when you're cock drunk, and I haven't even fucked you yet. Leaning over you to look you in the eyes, tiling your chin in his direction. He gruffly says, "You're absolutely perfect, and you're mine. No one else gets to have you like I do, and no one can satisfy me like you do. So, I'm going to show you why no one can ever satisfy you like I can."

[shoopsthereitis]

on art and grief and fandom

I was scrolling on TikTok today, as one does when they decompress after work, and I ended up on a video of Andrew Garfield reciting a piece of writing on grief. There was a part of what he said that really got to me. this is why art is so important because it can get us to places that we can’t get to any other way.

I'm coming up on the one year anniversary of one of my dear friend's death, and to say it's been a rough year would be drastically understating it. The thing about this year though, has been that it's been filled with some of the lowest lows I've ever dealt with, but also some of the highest highs. I found fandom around a year and a half ago. I dabbled a bit when I was younger, but somehow ended up back in it at just the right time. Around six months after coming back into fandom, I lost my friend. I had never experienced grief before. I had no idea what to do with how I was feeling or how to process any of it.

Grief is one of the wildest things I've ever experienced, and it's so true that you really don't understand it until you've experienced it. I have such a deeper empathy for anyone who has had to know grief.

When my friend died, I found myself craving worlds and characters I already knew. I needed that familiarity, but I also wanted more. I think all of us in fandom know how absolutely incredible the writers are, and I ended up without really ever doing it on purpose (I mean a little on purpose, bc tags) reading a lot of stories with MCD, and grief as heavy themes. I found myself able to process my own grief through these characters and reach these places that I couldn't quite grasp in my everyday life.

Art is so important. I don't think I could have made it through this year without these stories and this art to process my own grief.

The thing about grief, is that after you know it, you're not the same person you were before. I think that's what made life so difficult. Because everyone in my life knew me as a certain person, in a certain way, but after my friend died, that person was gone. I don't know her anymore. I'm different now. Finally stepping deeper into fandom and building relationships gave me an opportunity to get to know people for the first time as this person. This person who accepts themselves in such a deeper way, this person who wants to yap about these silly wizards, but also is making connections with people I never would have known had I not joined a random discord after someone asked if anyone wanted to do a group read.

Then, I started writing. I wrote a one shot about grief that I think healed parts of me I never expected it to heal.

There is such a power in art. Whether it's writing, or art, or edits, or whatever it is bc art can take so many forms. Art and fandom is so important, and it's so easy to get caught up on the silly little things, but today, today I'm reflecting on all the positives.

Art has gotten me through this year, and fandom has helped get me through this year, and the friends I've made have unknowingly helped me get through this year and I'm so thankful for it.

I'm so happy to have curated spaces with people I can yap about James and Regulus with, or our school studies, or our families, or music, or anything under the sun.

So, coming up on one year since losing my friend, I'm having so many feelings come back up because grief is not linear. But it's given me the opportunity to reflect on how important art, and writing, and fandom and the people I've surrounded myself in it are.

Between these people, their writing, their art, and the beautiful friends I have in my real life, I've been able to make it through this year.

Because Andrew said it so well, this is why art is so important because it can get us to places that we can’t get to any other way.

[skylarmoon71]

Lance Sweets (Bones) - Crossover AU - Chapter 29

It’s expected that the little vacation would come to an end.

You and Sweets meet and stop at the receptionist to return your room keys. As he’s talking with her, you can’t help but notice a few of the women present whispering. You raise a brow. Maybe you’re paranoid, but it looks like they’re staring at Sweets. You tilt your head to get a better idea, listening to their words. 

“That’s the couple isn’t it?” 

“Yes, they were going at it day and night.” 

“I’m envious.” 

You blush when you’re hearing adjusted, and Sweets turns to you with a smile, leaving a kiss on your cheek. When he pulls away he’s curious. 

“Everything okay?” 

You nod stiffly. 

“Everything is fine, let’s go!” 

You practically drag him out of there. 

Discretion might be a necessity for your next trip. 

It's a given that when you return you’ll report to your designated departments. 

Jessica had already talked your ear off when you left, so you’re not hurrying back. You drop Sweets off at his office with a smile. 

“I’m about to head in, have a good day.” 

He mirrors your smile, and when he pulls you into a kiss, you flush. He pulls back before you can truly lean into it. 

“I’ll see you after work.” 

The smile he wears is way too seductive for the workplace. Your cheeks are red the entire ride back to the Jeffersonian. It doesn’t take that long to get back settled in. You’re getting caught up on any paperwork and when lunch rolls around, Angela insists that you have lunch with them to fill in on the mini vacation. 

“So how did you spend the rest of your vacation? We saw all the pretty pictures. It looked like fun.” 

Seated with Camille, Brennan and Angela in Angela’s office, you’re all enjoying the company. The question makes you think back and you can’t help but flush when you realize that the second week was mostly you and Sweets going at it like rabbits. 

“W-We didn’t really do anything, just relaxed towards the end.” You pick up your drink to help cover. Camille looks curious. 

“Really, I would think you guys would have at least gone to the club.” 

You shake your head, still refusing eye contact. Angela just observes, but then begins to grin. 

“Oh my gosh you guys just spent that time having sex didn’t you!” 

You place your cup down hurriedly, waving your hands around for her to keep it down. 

“D-Don’t yell!!!” 

Camille laughs at how embarrassed you seem at the mention. 

“It’s good that you both had fun.” She comments. 

“Yes, sex is also good for decompressing. Booth and I have lots of sex.” Brennan’s comments don't help with your already flustered state. 

“C-Can we please change the subject.” 

You’d like to crawl into a hole. 

“No need to act so bashful, it’s not like that was your first time.” Angela quips.

Once again you go silent and now they all look intrigued. 

“You were a virgin?” Camille asks, surprised. You bury your face into your hands. This seems to just get worse. You groan. 

“I-I was okay! I-It was great with Sweets. He was so calm and patient and he’s really good with his hands and his mouth and I’m pretty sure we explored every position known to man!” 

You blurt it all out. For a moment they just stare, then Angela grins. 

“I underestimated Sweets, he’s got game.” 

You just drop your head on the table and Camille laughs. 

Nothing will deter Angela’s curiosity.

[raelle-writing]

A Day in the Park

A series of dates where Vegas and Pete heal their inner children together. Date one: in the park.

Short VegasPete fic, posted as a twitfic and edited a little for Tumblr. Fluff, rated T.

Vegas spent a truly frustrating morning stuck in the shop, haggling over the price of new tires for his Ducati, and when he got home all he wanted to do was cuddle up to Pete for a while and decompress. It was the weekend, so Macau would be around, which meant sex was unlikely. But Vegas didn't care. He just wanted to be with Pete for a while and fucking 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹 for once.

So he was a bit annoyed when he got back to the condo and discovered that Pete wasn't there. And neither was Macau, for that matter.

It wasn't like they were obligated to wait for him at home, of course. Still, it irritated him. He just wanted some downtime with Pete! And he had a headache. And where were they, anyway?

He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Pete to check.

Still a bit annoyed, Vegas put his phone away and left. He knew what park they'd be at - the one close by, with a big open grassy patch, walking paths, and a playground. It only took about eight minutes for him to walk there. And, already, Vegas felt slightly less irritable.

It really was a nice day. Not too hot, with a nice breeze, sunny, gorgeous. He couldn't help unwinding a bit as he made it to the park and then spotted two familiar figures sitting on a blanket on the grass nearby. They both glanced up and waved as he drew close. Macau made a face at him. "Should've known you'd crash our date."

That made Pete laugh and shake his head, beckoning Vegas over. Vegas shot Macau a small glare before kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the blanket, settling with his head in Pete's lap.

Pete shaded a hand over Vegas' eyes to protect him from the bright sunlight. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," replied Vegas softly, smiling up at Pete.

"You're both disgusting. Let's eat before I lose my appetite," interrupted Macau, and Vegas shot him another glare.

But he didn't protest. Nor did he sit up. Instead he just made puppy-dog eyes at Pete until Pete rolled his eyes and started feeding him bites from their street food. Macau let out a very long-suffering sigh, but didn't protest, and before long their food was gone.

Vegas was undeniably in a better mood and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin and his head in Pete's lap. Pete's fingers toyed with his hair and it was so nice and relaxing. He loved these little moments with Pete. Moments he never thought he'd get to have.

A noise disturbed him and he opened his eyes, Pete shading his gaze again, to see Macau standing up. "I'm going home," he announced, making a face at them. "I don't want to feel horribly single for hours because of you two. Bye!"

Vegas wondered if he should feel guilty as he watched Macau walk away. But he didn't. Macau would find someone someday, and besides, he'd gone through enough. He deserved time with Pete. After everything.

They spent quite a while just lounging in the sun together, chatting, and then silent, drowsing. Though Vegas wasn't entirely able to sleep because of the sounds coming from the nearby playground. He wasn't annoyed, necessarily, by the chatter from the children. In fact, he found it kind of cute the way they called and laughed and played... although it made him sad.

He'd never been allowed to play on playgrounds as a child. It wasn't safe, and Gun disapproved of "play" because he believed Vegas should be focused on training to become his heir. And Vegas had never cared - never wanted friends. He didn't think he was missing anything.

But now, as an adult... he did. He felt the loss, not having carefree memories of his childhood. He realized, at some point, that he was looking off to the side and watching children play on the swings. Pete's fingers stroked his hair softly.

"Hey." Vegas glanced up and found Pete looking down at him, a sparkle of something playful in his eyes.

"What?"

"Do you want to play on the swings?" Vegas blinked, and stared up at him in surprise. "But... we're adults. Isn't that weird?"

"I don't really care. I think it sounds fun." Pete smiled playfully. "Come on, push me!"

Vegas didn't entirely know what was happening, but the next thing he knew, Pete had gotten him up and they were approaching the swings, holding hands. The swings were momentarily empty the children off playing elsewhere. Which made him feel slightly less awkward as Pete sat down on a swing and shot him a smile. "Push me!"

"Okay, baby. Okay." Vegas couldn't help feeling amused as he walked around to give Pete a push. Pete swung his feet out.

Vegas pushed him again as he swung back, harder this time, and Pete laughed, throwing his head back to look at Vegas. "This is fun. Push me higher!"

Vegas couldn't help laughing incredulously as well but wouldn't deny Pete that, so he stepped back to give more room. The next time, he pushed Pete 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥, and Pete swung higher, giggling.

They continued like that for a while, until suddenly, Pete dragged his feet on the ground and brought himself to a stop. "Your turn!"

Vegas blinked, but when Pete looked at him like that, all flushed with excitement and happiness, hair windswept, Vegas couldn't say no. So he rounded the swing and sat in it, feeling vaguely uncomfortable.

Pete's hands were firm on his back, pushing him up, then harder, and Vegas swung his legs to help with momentum.

In moments, he was laughing like a child, wind whipping through his hair as he crested the arc and felt weightless, then swung back, only for Pete to push him again, higher and higher. Pete was laughing, too, and Vegas couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this. So free.

When he finally dragged his feet on the ground to bring himself to a stop, he was flushed and giggly. And the park was empty - it was getting kind of hot, so the parents had taken the kids home. Vegas couldn't help grinning at Pete playfully, feeling light inside.

"Race you to the top of that slide!" He ran off as soon as he finished speaking and he heard Pete laugh behind him. But it didn't matter, because a moment later he reached the slide and wriggled into it. It was a bit snug, but he managed to work his way up.

But he heard a thump outside, and a shadow passed over him. "Slow poke!" called Pete's muffled voice from outside.

"That's cheating!" Vegas wriggled the rest of the way up the slide but found Pete already perched at the very top when he stuck his head out, grinning down at him.

"Too slow."

Vegas stuck out his tongue, then clambered out of the slide, wrapping his arms around Pete to pick him up bodily off the top of the slide.

"Hey!" Pete giggled struggling playfully in Vegas' grip. "Let go!"

"No."

A moment later, he lost his balance and the two of them ended up sprawled out on the plastic of the playground. It was warm under Vegas' back, and uncomfortable, but he didn't care because Pete's face was right above his, looking flushed and happy and perfect.

Pete smiled down at him, then leaned down to press a light kiss into Vegas' lips, before pulling back to murmur, "I never really got to play on playgrounds when I was young. My dad wanted me to spend time training instead."

Vegas stared at him, feeling a surge of love.

They really were so similar, he realized. Sometimes it struck him over and over. They were so perfect for each other. "Me either."

"I thought so." Pete smiled at him before leaning down to kiss him again, softly. Vegas ran his fingers through Pete's hair, tugging him closer.

After a moment, they broke the kiss and Pete pinched him playfully, making Vegas jump. "Hey!"

"We should do this more often."

"Do what?" Vegas grinned up at him, then pivoted and flipped Pete onto his back. Pete yelped, then laughed.

"This. Go out and have fun. Do things we couldn't when we were kids." Pete tugged Vegas closer. "I'd like to do fun things with you." Vegas let out a soft laugh.

"Okay. I'd like that too."

Pete grinned, then promptly slid out from under Vegas, hopping down off the playground. He smiled up at Vegas. "Then lets see who can swing higher!"

Vegas couldn't help laughing, shaking his hair out of his face. "Race you there!"

Pete laughed and bolted back toward the swings, and Vegas ran after him, starstruck by the way he looked so flushed and happy.

Yeah, he definitely wanted to do this again, he thought as they started to swing again, wind whipping through his hair, feeling that same light, free feeling as before. Pete laughed and swung higher, and Vegas focused on this moment, this feeling that Pete brought out in him.

As long as he was with Pete, anything was fun. But, yes, he wanted to do more of this. It felt like being a child. And being a child with Pete was everything Vegas wanted, in this moment.

So he just focused on the present, laughing, giggling, playing, and loving Pete.

[loudblonde]

"Oh I just do some tour work" Kyle "Gaz" Garrick X Male!musician!reader

Summary: (y/n) is a very famous and well known musician. He picks up Gaz after a mission only to meet two people from his team, Soap doesn't realise who (y/n) is.

One shot

The team had just returned home from a mission, all headed for leave. A few cars and people were waiting for some team members.

Soap, specifically, had asked his uncle and aunt to pick him up. Their home always had a bed waiting for him and after their latest mission... well, anyone would want some time decompressing. It hadn't gone the best, not that they usually were a walk in the park.

Simon had someone who also just wore a mask pick him up, one equally as reclusive as the other. The a perfect pairing.

König was already headed to KoTac as he usually did, a quick goodbye and back onto the next plane heading to wherever he wad needed.

And Price... well the good captain was standing in some corner snogging his wife as though they were teenagers again, both just happy to have each other in their arms.

Gaz frowned as he looked around, missing a familiar face in the crowd of families. A man who usually kept to himself to not draw unnecessary attention.

A small group of people dispersed and a familiar (H/C) head of hair walked out of it, a small smile on his face even if he looked a bit flustered. (Y/N) (L/N), a world-famous singer and guitarist.

Gaz ran up to his fiance, happily sweeping him up in his arms and kissing him. "It's been too long," Gaz whispered before kissing (y/n) again. Not at all caring that anyone could see.

He heard Soap wolf whistle, Ghost stood directly behind him. "When you said you had a lad a home, I didn't expect you to fall for such a pretty face," Soap said, teasing Gaz.

(Y/n) chuckled. "We have known each other since childhood." He said and took his hand in his, matching gold wedding bands sat on their fingers. "I don't complain about him being away on a mission and he doesn't complain when I go away for work."

Soap tilted his head. "Work? What do you work as?" He asked, causing Gaz to stifle a laugh.

(Y/n) looked genuinely amused. "I do some tour work, it's nothing big." (Y/n) said.

"Ah, for what singer or band?" Soap asked, genuinely curious. He did listen to a lot of mixed genres in his time on leave.

(Y/n) looked to Gaz who was holding a very good poker face. They both exchanged a silent look most commonly seen in married couples or parents who choose to say a little white lie to poke harmless fun off their children. The type that always gets laughed about later on in life. "Ah, it's just (band name)."

"Never heard of them, are they big?" Soap asked, completely unaware that the past 3 years had been filled with nothing but their music. It was downright impossible to turn on the radio without hearing their music, then again, the Scottish man didn't listen much to the radio.

"Hmm, yeah usually sells out entire stadiums quickly, so yeah, they are very big." (Y/n) said, keeping his tone of voice light and without any reason to doubt his statement. "My darling, shall we head home? I have a freshly baked cake that will be cool for when we return."

Gaz could practically feel his mouth watering at the thought. "I can't wait to marry you." He said as they walked off, holding hands with his fiance.

Soap stood back with Ghost. "Johnny you are an idiot." Ghost said, chuckling under his breath. The chuckle was so low that only Soap had ever heard.

"What do you mean?" Soap looked up at him.

"That was (Y/N) (L/N), the lead singer of (band name)." Ghost said and walked past him. "Very famous guitarist too. He has played with Queen before."

"Wait, wait wait, what?!" Soap followed after him.

If you liked this fic, please reblog it.

[captainsophiestark]

Anything For You

Daisy Johnson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022! Requested by Anon :)

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: “You know I’d do anything.”

Summary: Y/N and Skye are dating, and when Skye gets in a hairy situation with Ian Quinn in Malta, it's Y/N to the rescue. They'd do anything for their girlfriend, after all.

Word Count: 1,242

Category: Fluff, maybe a tiny bit of Angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"She should be just up ahead of you. Her last known location put her in the building somewhere around the corner."

I didn't bother replying to May as I sprinted for all I was worth. Skye, my girlfriend of just under a month, had gone into a dangerous situation undercover, with almost no training. She'd done incredibly well, sucking Ian Quinn and allowing me, Ward, and Coulson to get past his security fence for a rescue mission of Doctor Franklin Hall. We'd lost contact with her, however, not long after she'd been in a tight situation with Quinn, and I was absolutely worried sick.

I hurtled around the corner at top speed, a little more recklessly than I'd normally behave. I quickly decided it was the right call, however, when I saw Skye trapped on a walkway, two armed men blocking both of her options for escape.

The man behind Skye saw me coming, but he was too slow to warn his partner. I slammed into the guy with his back to me, the one standing between me and my girlfriend, knocking him out before he got the chance to even attempt to defend himself. The remaining hostile tried to make a grab for Skye, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind me before he could. He squared up and took a few swings at me, but I managed to duck, dodge, and sidestep them all.

I waited patiently for my opening, drawing on every ounce of training I'd ever received. Finally, I saw my chance when the guy overcommitted to a pretty nasty right hook. I got past his guard with the hardest uppercut I could manage, and when he reeled back from the hit, I landed a few more precise blows that dropped him like a stone.

Once he was down and I'd done a quick scan to make sure no one else was getting the drop on us (they weren't), I turned back to Skye.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, rushing to close the distance between us and taking her hands in mine as I looked her over for any sign of injury. She shook her head.

"No. No, I'm fine."

She seemed shaken, but like she'd said, she didn't seem to be hurt. I sighed, feeling the adrenaline finally start to drain out of me, and pulled her into my chest.

"Alright, it's alright," I said, stroking her hair with one hand as she wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my chest. She'd gone into total badass mode for her escape, which I was incredibly proud of, but the shock and fear of what she'd just managed to escape would be hitting her any minute. "You're alright, Skye. You did good, you're safe. Now let's get out of here."

She nodded, but kept holding on to me while she took a few deep breaths. The island shook beneath us, and we both realized it was our cue to meet up with the rest of our team and get the hell out of here.

We could finish decompressing later.

****************

I absentmindedly ran my hands through Skye's hair as we laid in bed together, squeezed onto her twin bunk on the Bus. The whole team had made it back from Malta safely, thankfully, although we'd just made an enemy out of Quinn and we hadn't been able to save Doctor Hall.

Honestly, I didn't really care about any of that stuff. Skye and I had made it out safely, and that's all that mattered to me.

"You know, you really did a fantastic job today," I mused as we relaxed together, taking in the gentle hum of the engines now that the Bus was in the air. "I mean seriously. I'm still pissed that Ward's your SO and not me, but... clearly he's doing a pretty good job training you."

Skye laughed, and I smiled.

"I guess we do have to give him some credit," she said. "Although I think his training is working mostly because I'm just a great student and a natural agent."

I laughed. Skye turned to glare up at me, clearly offended, but I couldn't help it.

"Babe, I've seen you down there doing your drills on the punching bag. You're definitely getting better, and nobody gets stuff right away, but... your stance is anything but natural."

Skye just huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever."

We passed a few moments in comfortable silence, me smiling to myself and Skye clearly still a little grumpy. I was starting to drift off for some much needed sleep after all the chaos of the day when she spoke again, waking me up and drawing my attention.

"Thank you for today, by the way," she said. "You completely saved me. I don't know what I would've done without you."

I gave her a light squeeze with the arm I had wrapped around her. "Anytime. I will literally always come for you if you need me, Skye. I'd do anything for you. You know I'd do anything."

She nodded without looking up at me, and squeezed me a little tighter with the arm she had slung across my stomach. She didn't say anything, but I knew my words meant the world to her. When we'd first met, she'd had absolutely no one in the world. She'd been completely on her own, without anybody to trust or to have her back. I'd become that person for her recently, and although she wasn't really one for the most touchy-feely conversations and declarations of love, I knew what I meant to her.

After a few moments of Skye taking deep breaths and me gently rubbing circles on her back, the tension and emotionally charged air of the moment faded away. Skye cleared her throat.

"So... when you say you'd do anything for me..."

"Oh boy," I said, rolling my eyes and taking my arm from around her shoulders. I shifted and so did Skye so she was now laying next to me, resting her head on her fist and looking at me with mischief in her eyes. "What do you want?"

"A glass of water?"

"Last I checked, your legs were not broken despite your jump off a balcony today."

"Yeah, but... this bed is so comfortable, and I don't want to get up. And you said you'd do anything for me."

I sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling like I was praying for strength, but then I threw the covers off and stood up.

"You're the love of my life," said Skye as I slipped on a pair of shoes sitting by the bed and headed for the door of her bunk. "My hero and angel."

"Yeah yeah yeah, whatever. Save your flattery and keep the covers warm for me, alright?"

"Promise."

I pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway with a dramatic sigh, pausing at the last minute to shoot a grin and a wink back at Skye. She beamed at me in response, and my heart leapt in my chest. We really hadn't known each other all that long in the grand scheme of things, but I already knew for a fact that she was the love of my life.

I'd get her a million glasses of water and save her on a million missions, and I knew she'd do the same for me.

[erin-bo-berin]

Please write some soft Steve Harrington comfort with reader as they wait to hear news about Max?

OH MAN OH MAN. I hope you mean the reader comforting Steve because that’s how I imagined this blurb.

Also I’ve seen edits of that moment from 4x9 where Steve, Robin and Nancy hear the four chimes and assume the worst has happened to Max and where all the bad thoughts that’s probably going through his head at that moment just based on the look on his face. That poor boy definitely has a lot in his head that he doesn’t express/we don’t see often on the show. I just want to give Steve a big hug 😕 anyway, prepare for a bit of him being too hard on himself in this because I feel like he doesn’t express how own worries and fears enough.

“This is my fault. I should’ve been with them. They counted on me. I shouldn’t have let them go alone. I shouldn’t have let them go along with this, it was too dangerous.”

You watched Steve pace the waiting room floor in front of you, where you were perched on the edge of the seat.

The aftermath of your battle with Vecna was to put it bluntly, grim. He’d disappeared, but wasn’t for sure dead. Hawkins quite literally had split open like hell had come to earth, the Upside Down bleeding into the real world. Eddie was gone, Max was in a coma. There was no telling what Vecna would plan next and you had the awful feeling that he would strike when you and your group were the weakest, but you refused to let the asshole win. Especially not when he’d taken the life of one of your favorite people and the soul of another one of your friends.

Max was still alive, but in a coma. Somehow, maybe even miraculously, El had managed to bring Max back to life with her powers. But there was still no definite answers right now.

There was no guarantee she’d wake up.

No guarantee she would even be okay if she did wake up.

No guarantee that the Max you’d all known and loved was even still in there.

The possibilities were endless and terrifying.

Lucas hadn’t left her side since she’d been admitted to the hospital, reading to her as often as he could. Erica was often with him, offering any support she could.

You and Steve had just been in her room. After finding out what happened to her, Steve was rushing to the hospital, you in tow. Now, after seeing the condition she was in, everything had caught up to him.

He’d sank to the floor earlier, just down the hall, after seeing Max and cried like you’d never seen the man cry before. It was deep, guttural, soul wrenching sobs, his face buried in his fists as his shoulders shook.

It broke you heart to see.

You instantly fell to your knees, not caring if the linoleum hospital floor was uncomfortable and pulled your boyfriend into your arms. You sat and hugged him, letting him cry as much as he needed to. He clung to you like you were the anchor in this storm he’d been thrust into.

You couldn’t say how long you both sat in the hallway like that, but you sat quietly, holding him to you, stroking his hair.

You were upset and scared too, but for once, Steve shouldn’t have to be the strong one. You wanted him to know that he could decompress, he could let out all the grief, grief you knew had been compiling and building up inside his head, inside his heart for years. Maybe this was what had been his final straw.

He’d said nothing about the episode, only kissing your forehead as if saying thank you for just being there.

His face was no longer wrecked from his sobs, but his eyes were red, you could tell just from the distance where you sat. A mixture of tears and lack of sleep had turned his beautiful brown eyes that you loved so much, completely bloodshot.

“Steve,” you finally stopped him, grabbing his arm to slow his pacing.

He hadn’t even changed out of his fighting gear. Although he’d disposed of the tactical vest he’d had on, he was still in the camouflaging shirt, dark pants and brown leather jacket with the patches. He was bloody, bruised and injured. Specks of dirt and blood mixed in the dots of filth on his face. His choke burn and cut from demobats that seemed like eons ago was still present, yet to be cleaned. You ran fingers over it lightly, causing him to wince. You whispered an apology before you continued.

“None of this was your fault,” you tell him firmly, looking up into his face.

“But I’m supposed to be looking out after them. That’s my job. I promised to keep them safe. I always said I’d keep them safe and I didn’t. This time I didn’t.”

Steve had grown a close bond to the young teens after years of winding up looking after them on the craziest of missions, situations and all the weird Upside Down shit that Hawkins had the misfortune of going through. Even though it had been a joke amongst the group, Steve truly cares for these kids as if they were his own family. They were his own family. Steve was just the kind of person to sacrifice himself to save each and every one of those kids. He would’ve done it too in this instance, if it’d save Max.

“The only person responsible for this is Vecna,” you said, “No one else, okay? This is not on you.”

“But Y/N-”

“No,” you said firmly, sitting him down in a chair, you sitting in the one next to him, “You know Max. Even if you were there she would be stubborn enough to do it on her own. Even against your wishes. Remember when she drove you guys after you were knocked out by Billy? She was barely 13 then!”

He smiled faintly at the memory.

“Yeah, she is stubborn alright.”

“She’s also a fighter, Steve.”

You linked your fingers through his and squeezed his hand gently, letting him know you were there for him, in more ways than just being right next to him. He looked up at your words.

“I’m scared, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whispered, “I am too. But she would want us to fight this son of a bitch and that is what we’re going to do. When the time comes, we’re going to fight like hell. For Eddie. For Max. For all the other lives he’s taken, all the lives he’s destroyed. We’re going to fight, Steve. And you know where I’m gonna be?”

He shook his head, watching you.

“I’m going to be right there next to you fighting as hard as you are because I refuse to let Vecna ruin us or this town. Ruin anymore families, lives. I’m going to be right there next to you Steve okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to Max and I sure hope she’ll wake up. Maybe defeating Vecna will help her wake up. I don’t know. But we’re going to get through this alright?”

A tear escaped down his cheek as he looked down and you brushed it away before he could swipe at it himself. You rested your free hand on his cheek and he turned once again to look up you, slightly leaning into your touch.

“I know things aren’t okay. But we’re going to make it Steve, all of us, no matter what.”

The words seemed to center Steve, his lips pursing in determination.

“No matter what.”

[aizawasnumberonefan]

Normalcy

Toshinori Yagi x Reader

1,220 words

Life at UA High School is hardly ordinary. For students, you are constantly learning about the hero world, honing your skills, and making connections. For faculty, you are protecting the students, creating lessons to help your students with their quirks, and overall dealing with the stresses of being a teacher. You were no stranger to these stressors as a UA teacher yourself, and today especially, they were becoming overwhelming.

It's after classes and the students have gone home. You’re grading papers in your classroom, frustrated with how your students had acted today and with how they’d clearly not paid attention to the lessons, at least according to their work. After the fourth failed assignment you get up from your desk with a groan of frustration, walking to the window to open it for some fresh air.

“Are you alright?” you hear behind you, turning to see Toshinori Yagi in your doorway, the pro hero more commonly known as All Might. He peers in at you concerningly, letting his broad form lean against the doorway.

“It’s been a tough day.” You sigh, pushing your hair out of your face and leaning back against the windowsill. “My students ran me up the wall, I’m having to rewrite my lesson plans, and there are not one but two tabloids who have been calling me every hour to beg for an interview to talk about my hero work and my students.”

“Do you want company, to be left alone, or a break?”

“I want a break. Can we go do something for a bit?” You ask, thankful that he had been walking by your classroom at the perfect moment.

“Of course. I know how taxing constant work can be on your body and mind. Have you been to the park down by the town center since it opened?”

“No, not yet.”

“Perfect, then we can go there.” He says, flashing his signature smile and extending his hand to you.

You grab your coat off the back of your chair, take his hand, and walk out the door together.

The park is chilly, which you should’ve expected for late autumn. You’re bundled up in your favorite winter jacket and Toshinori has taken his smaller form to avoid too much attention. He’s wearing his own merch, an All Might sweatshirt that hangs loosely on his thin frame. Since you started work at UA at the same time as him, you and All Might had gotten close. You can’t deny that you’ve been getting more and more excited to talk to him when you get into work each day. You ate lunch together, chatted over coffee, and would often grade papers together, but it wasn’t common for the two of you to go out with one another. This special and rare occurrence had your heart beating a little faster than you’d anticipated.

The two of you had made the short walk hand in hand, neither of you letting go since he took your hand in your classroom. Once you arrive to the park, Toshinori leads you to a bench.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He says, squeezing your hand once before letting go.

You take a seat on the bench, allowing yourself to take a deep breath in and out, settling into place and decompressing after the tough day you’ve had. You spend a few minutes just observing the park, letting your mind wander to making more plans with Toshinori here. By the time he returns, your posture is visibly more relaxed, prompting him to smile as he walks up. He takes a seat beside you, handing you a nice warm cup of hot chocolate.

“Best one in the city. Give it a try.” He prompts you, letting you take a sip and relishing in the way your eyes widen as you realize he’s right.

“And you’ve kept it secret from me all this time?” You joke, flashing a toothy smile at him which he happily returns.

“This is one of my new favorite places to come to when life just feels too busy. It’s nice to sit, relax, and watch the people we protect enjoy their safety and go about their days. It’s easy to forget that I rarely get to be one of them.”

You watch him speak, his eyes focused on the other people enjoying the park, and you lean your head on his shoulder when he finishes talking.

“You’re as much a normal person as the rest of us. It’s okay to enjoy a normal day even if you’re the world’s most loved hero.” You reassure him softly. He puts his arm around you, his other hand holding his own hot chocolate. He takes a sip and tips the cup in the direction of a couple walking down a path, holding hands much like you two had been not long ago.

“What do you think? I think maybe third or fourth date, but it’s going well.” He says.

“Look again.” You say, pointing to the medium sized dog between them. “I’m betting that’s their dog, and that would make me think it’s been at least a few months.”

“Why can’t it just be the dog of the person walking it?” Toshinori asks.

“Check out the other person’s jacket. It has a matching color scheme to the dog’s sweater.”

“Good eye.” He smiles. “Okay, them. What’s their story?” He asks, using the cup to gesture at a person shopping at the farmer’s market across the small field.

“Check out their tote bag. It looks well worn, I bet they shop here often. And fresh veggies? I wonder if they have a garden in the summer that they have trouble keeping up in cold weather so they shop here to make sure they still have access to fresh produce.”

“You’re good at this.”

“Thank you.” You smile, taking another sip of the hot chocolate and visually scanning the park. “Okay, them, what’s their story?” You ask, pointing at another couple on a blanket in the grass.

Toshinori grins. “Oh that’s easy. Long term couple, probably a few years together. That’s a homemade blanket, I bet they made it together as a cute date idea. Dressed a little nicer than I’d expect for a picnic, but maybe it’s a fancy date?” He says, narrowing his eyes to focus more closely. “No! Look at his right hand, right behind the picnic basket, out of his boyfriend’s sight. He’s going to propose to him.”

“I love seeing people in love. It’s so refreshing to see happiness existing out in the world instead of the negativity that we see a lot.”

“No kidding. Pro heroes are rarely called in if it isn’t a disaster. It’s easy for the doom and gloom to get to you.” Toshinori sighs, letting his head drop to rest on yours which hasn’t moved off his shoulder. “I like it here. I like being a normal civilian and living a normal life when I get the chance.”

“Same here. It gets so busy so easily that it’s hard to remember to relax and slow down.” You say, using a free hand to reach up and hold his hand while his arm is still draped across your shoulders. “Can we do this again sometime?”

A soft smile stretches across All Might’s face. “I’d love nothing more.”

thank you @princeasimdiya12 for this request :)

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (13/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~5100 words

AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 |

Note: Sorry for the long delay. Life changes were happening and I’ve been decompressing from the stress of finishing grad school. Hopefully updates will happen more regularly, but no promises. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

His breath catches in his lungs when the door swings open and reveals the only person in the world he wants to see.

Rose.

It’s her—it’s really her. She’s standing in her doorway, in soft flannel pajama bottoms and fuzzy pink socks and a jumper that looks like it was made from a cloud, and she’s holding… a wallet?

She meets his gaze and gives a little jolt, taking half a step back as her mouth falls open and her eyes widen.

“You’re not the pizza guy,” she says, a shade breathless.

Her words don’t entirely register at first, but when they do, his stomach sinks. She hadn’t checked who was outside her door before opening it, because she was expecting someone else. Would she have opened the door if she had known it was him?

He scratches the nape of his neck—his skin is itching and burning, and he wants to sink far beneath the Earth’s surface and never appear ever again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “This was silly. I should have called. I reread your letter and had some questions so I thought I would stop by, but I realized right after I knocked that it’s a bit pretentious of me to show up outside your flat like this, and I was about to leave but then you opened the door and now here we are, and I can’t seem to stop talking.”

A ghost of a smile crosses Rose’s lips as she cocks her hip to the side to lean against the door jamb.

“Make sure to take a breath,” she drawls, and his knees nearly weaken at the warmth in her voice. Surely all isn’t lost if she’s teasing him, if she hasn’t slammed the door in his face and told him to go fuck himself.

He does as she says and breathes in deeply, trying to dislodge the ache between his ribs.

“D’you think… could we… can we talk?” he asks, curling his toes inside his shoes as though the action can ground him.

“Depends what you want to talk about,” she says carefully, and the prior warmth she’d had is gone now. “I thought I’d made myself clear in my letter.”

“I just… I don’t understand,” he admits. “I thought I understood what you meant. But then my mum started putting all these thoughts in my head, and I got even more confused, so now here I am. And I understand if you want me to go. We don’t have to talk. But at least I can say I tried, and I can put us to rest. Actually, yeah, we don’t have to talk. This was silly. I’m sorry.”

Before he can flee, the lift doors ping behind him, followed by shuffling footsteps.

“Dinner order for Rose?”

James looks over his shoulder and sees a man carrying a pizza box. The man’s eyes bug as he catches sight of James. James cringes and hunches his shoulders, and all of a sudden, he’s being pulled into Rose’s arms, being kissed swiftly and ushered inside the flat with a cheery, “Oh, you’re right on time, John. Go set the table.”

The interior of Rose’s flat is the same as he remembers, all warm tones and homey ambience that makes him want to stay forever. He has no idea what to do, because he’s pretty sure Rose only brought him inside to save him from the recognition of the pizza guy.

That alone squeezes his heart. Why would she do that if she didn’t care about him? Why wouldn’t she feed him to the wolves?

Because she doesn’t want to become a circus exhibit, unable to escape the unrelenting eye of the paparazzi when they realize she has been spending time with him.

As quickly as his spirits had lifted, they sink again.

“Blimey, I must be seein’ things,” the delivery man says from the corridor. “For a minute I could’ve sworn that was James Noble.”

Rose laughs indulgently. “Oh, he gets that a lot. I keep telling him to enter a James Noble lookalike contest.”

“Pretty sure he could take first prize. Right, this ‘ere’s for you.”

“And this here’s for you,” Rose echoes, pressing bank notes into the man’s hand. “Cheers, mate.”

James shifts from foot to foot, gnawing at the corner of his mouth as Rose shuts the door and turns to face him. “Hungry?”

She lifts the pizza box towards him, wafting the scent of cheese, bread, and sauce towards him. His stomach cramps with hunger, but he says, “I shouldn’t interrupt your dinner.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s eat. Then we can talk.”

His stomach audibly squeals, and Rose smirks in triumph. With a sigh, he follows her to her kitchen and stands awkwardly by the kitchen island, feeling like an intruder in her home, so unlike a few weeks ago when they had cooked together.

They don’t speak as Rose puts a slice of plain cheese pizza on two plates and directs him to her sofa. He takes the loveseat while she takes the recliner, sitting cross-legged with her plate in her lap.

“Why are you here?” Rose asks quietly, picking off a layer of cheese and nibbling on it.

Because my mum thinks you might be a little bit smitten with me. Is that true?

I thought you wanted casual, and so did I, but then I didn’t, but you still did, so here we are.

Can you break down the contents of your letter for me? I’m too besotted with you to have an unbiased understanding of it.

Everything sounds so incredibly stupid, but then again, he’s sure he looks so incredibly stupid just staring at Rose in complete silence. He shovels far too much pizza into his mouth to buy himself time, yet he doesn’t have an answer for her even after he’s chewed and swallowed. The silence is awkward and stifling—it has never felt like this with Rose before, and he hates that they somehow lost the ease and comfort they’d once had.

“I missed you,” he admits, not entirely answering her question, but it’s all he’s got right now. “And I wanted to see you.”

She sighs, visibility deflating, so he rushes to continue speaking, “And I wanted to talk to you. It’s just… I thought everything between us was fine. But then I got home, and things weren’t fine.”

“Were things between us ever really fine?” she asks, a trace of bitterness in her tone as she continues mutilating her pizza instead of eating it. “Was there ever even a thing?”

His stomach coils in on itself and his mouth goes dry. “I… yeah… there was. What about all the amazing things we did together? I know it was only a few weeks, but those few weeks were incredible, Rose. Incredible. Dancing at that pub… burritos and margaritas… the bloody magical Renaissance Faire… you have made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in months.”

She finally looks at him, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping. Her stare is heavy, and something about it makes him squirm with discomfort, like she’s trying to pry her way into his very soul. He hastily shoves another bite of pizza into his mouth, and is pleased when she does the same; it wouldn’t do for his presence to ruin her meal.

She chews deliberately, slowly, and still she keeps her eyes locked on him. He watches the undulation of her throat as she swallows, then his gaze snaps to hers when she says, “I didn’t think that stuff mattered to you.”

The weight of her words, the implications of them, hit him like a lorry, leaving him dazed.

“But… how could they not?” he croaks. “Rose, you… you…” You have meant everything to me these last few weeks. “How could you say that? What did you think we were doing?”

She scoffs and lifts her gaze to the ceiling, and he’s horrified to see her eyes are shining with moisture that she impatiently blinks away. The tip of her nose is turning red too, the color deepening when she swipes at it with her hand.

“We were fucking,” she spits, her voice cracking around the vulgar word. “Just fucking.”

Whatever he expects her to say, it’s not that. Not with that level of vitriol. Like she’s cursing his name for all eternity.

There is nothing intelligent being fired between his synapses, so all he manages is a weak, “What?”

“You’re just havin’ a bit of fun, aren’t you?” She throws her words like knives, and they hit their mark straight and true, burying in his chest until he can’t remember how to breathe.

“Well, I mean, yeah,” he says, and the moments the words leave his lips, he knows they were the absolute worst thing to say.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, pressing her palms to her eyes as she mutters, “I’m so fucking stupid.”

He needs to fix this, and fast, because this is all going so, so badly.

“I mean, I thought that’s what you wanted,” he blurts, scratching at the back of his neck, which feels like it’s crawling with ants. “That’s what you said. The first time we… You said it was just sex. Just fun. So that’s what I swore I would keep it. Maybe I should have told you… scratch that, I definitely probably should have told you that casual wasn’t enough for me, but I’m not exactly what you signed up for, am I? And I was too selfish, wanting to continue to be with you, to spend time with you, so I shut up about it and took what you were willing to give me.”

His words don’t seem to be helping matters, though, since she’s staring at him like he has spoken a completely different language. Maybe he mumbled. Or spoke too quickly. All the time while he was growing up, his mum and teachers constantly told him to slow down and enunciate.

Wracking his brain to remember exactly what he had just said, he braces himself for the ultimate rejection, for Rose to tell him he needs to get the hell out of her flat then get the hell out of her life.

Before he can try again, she says, “But… but you said you wanted casual. You said you wanted us to continue bein’ whatever-the-hell friends-with-benefits unlabeled thing we were.”

Now it’s his turn to gape, because when on Earth had he ever said that?

“What are you talking about? I never said anything like that!” he protests.

Her confusion morphs into irritation, and she points a threatening finger at him. “Don’t you dare do that to me. I know what you said. We were in your music room, makin’ out and feelin’ each other up, when you got all… all weird on me and said you didn’t want anything to change, that you didn’t want things to get complicated. You practically told me all you were looking for was a shag, no strings attached.”

Did they experience two different moments? Is he having an out-of-body sci-fi experience where he is somehow talking to a Rose from a different universe?

“What are you talking about?” he repeats, but he doesn’t give her time to reply, because the penny finally falls, and he recalls exactly what she’s saying. “Hang on. Shh. Shush for a moment. Just. Wait. Please.”

 Fuck, were those the words he used? Surely not. They can’t have been.

He has never worked so hard to force his brain to step back in time, to replay a specific moment over and over again. Usually, it takes no effort. Usually, his brain cheerfully shows him all the memories he wishes he could forget. But finally, he’s there with Rose on his piano bench, achingly hard with her taste on his lips and her wetness on his fingers. He’s there, trying to understand how he can feel so much for a woman he just met. He’s there, wondering how he can keep her, when the world seems to enjoy tearing him apart. He’s there, wanting to tell her he can’t bear it if he loses her, but what comes out of his mouth is instead vague and unhelpful rubbish.

“Did you just shush me?” she squawks presently.

“Yeah, I did,” he murmurs absently. “And I think I’ve realized what happened.”

“Realized you’re a twat?” she grumbles, glaring murderously at her surely cold pizza. Nevertheless, she takes a bite.

“Sort of, yeah,” he admits, offering her a sheepish smile. Her cool expression doesn’t falter. “Rose, you misunderstood me that night.”

“Right,” she scoffs. “Definitely misunderstood the “don’t get complicated on me, Rose” line.”

“I meant that I didn’t want things between us to change by us having sex,” he said.

She laughs mirthlessly. “Yeah, thanks for that. Really clears things up, repeatin’ what you said that night.”

Frustration bubbles deep within him. For all his finesse with words when it comes to songwriting, he sure is shit when it comes to actually talking, isn’t he?

“I meant I wanted to keep seeing you!” he presses, and she snaps her mouth shut with a near-audible click. “I’d just been on one of the best dates of my life, and I’d genuinely only intended to have you over for dinner and maybe to see if I could talk you into a few rounds of Mario Kart because I didn’t want to say goodnight to you!”

“You… what… Mario Kart?”

Jesus, he’s an idiot, but he can’t seem to stop. His brain is screaming, processing thoughts too fast for him to understand. It gets like this in interviews sometimes; when a reporter asks him a question he’s excited to answer, he goes off far longer than he should and ends up making very little sense.

“But then I showed you my music room, which is one of my most sacred places in this godforsaken house, and you fit so perfectly that I wanted to share my music with you. That song I sang for you? I wrote it earlier that week, ‘cos I couldn’t get you out of my bloody mind, and I found I didn’t want to. I didn’t want you to leave my thoughts because you made everything brighter by being there. And I really shouldn’t have played that song for you because it hasn’t even been recorded yet and my record label would throw a fit if they knew I played an original piece for a virtual stranger, especially someone who hasn’t signed an NDA. But we had just had a perfect day together, and I promised you I would try to work on trusting you, because I really do want to trust you. So I shared that song with you, because you inspired me, and I wanted you to know that.”

His blood is roaring, racing with too many hormones and endorphins. It’s making his skin itch and his heart pound, and if he doesn’t move, he’s going to implode on the spot. He sets his plate on the cushion beside him and surges to his feet, raking his fingers through his hair as he tries desperately to organize his thoughts. They’re overtaking him, submerging him and he can’t bloody think.

Rose is gaping at him now, staring wordlessly. He can’t read her expression, can’t tell if he’s making any sense or if he is making everything a thousand times worse. But God help him, he can’t stop.

“And then you kissed me, and I can’t think straight when you kiss me. Not in a bad way. In a very, very good way. You make me feel normal, like the person I used to be before the entire world knew who I was. And I craved that. I craved that normalcy, and being normal with you. You’re intoxicating, and things escalated so fast, but I didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, I don’t think. You don’t know how much I worried that you thought I’d only brought you home to have sex with you. But then you said things were casual and it was just sex, so I figured you didn’t mind. The sex was absolutely amazing, by the way. I hadn’t had that much fun in months. But not just that, I loved doing normal date-night things with you. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed cooking dinner with you at your flat.”

“But you said you didn’t care about that,” she interrupts. There is a deep furrow in her brow, and she is chewing so hard on her thumbnail that he’s worried she’s going to rip it off and make it bleed. Her plate of half-eaten pizza lies discarded on her lap.

Her words draw him out of his manic head, and he tries to figure out what he’d said to make her think he didn’t care about dinner with her. But he’s coming up blank.

“Er…?”

“When you left for the night, you said foolin’ around on the roof was your favorite part of the night,” she clarified. “You really know how to make a girl feel special. God, I felt so humiliated when you said that. I loved having you in my flat, cookin’ together. But when you said that, I felt so dirty and used, and so stupid. Like you were reminding me again that we were nothing but a good time for you.”

The theme of the night must be bafflement, because he is once again wracking his memory bank for how on earth she has come to this conclusion. He is also coming to the conclusion that he is an idiot who cannot communicate clearly, but that is an issue to be tackled later on. Right now, he has more pressing concerns as the weight of everything Rose is saying crushes down on him. Poor communication or not, he made her feel like an object for his pleasure, and that alone makes his stomach lurch violently. God, how many times had that happened to him when he was first starting in this industry? How many times had he presumed an evening of intense flirtation and a night of passionate sex meant just as much to his partner as it had meant to him, only to be told come morning that he was nothing but a good time and a great reputation to name-drop at a later date.

Fuck. 

“Rose, I…” What? He what? What sort of words could fix this? Could this even be fixed? God, he hoped so. “I swear to you, I don’t know what I said, but I didn’t mean it like that. I can’t remember…”

Think, think, think, he growls to himself. All he can recall, after the warmth of her body against his, is the way she withdrew from him. All he can remember is being confused at her emotional one-eighty, when they’d just shared a perfect night together.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he repeats weakly. “That night meant so much to me. I loved being in your home. I loved that you showed me the view on your rooftop. It has been so long since I experienced anything new in this city, and yet you showed me a piece of your world and I loved it… I loved…”

His voice breaks, as the weight of these last few weeks overtakes him. How he’d been drowning in loneliness, feeling as used by his latest partner as he accidentally made Rose feel, when he’d found a flame in the darkness. Rose is his candle, lighting the way back to the surface.

It has been so long since he felt at home with another person, since he felt he could be himself. When he had first begun dating Reinette, his longest-term girlfriend of eighteen months, she had made him feel safe in his skin, like the world couldn’t touch him because she knew how to handle the paparazzi. After all, she’d been a mainstage actress for over ten years at that time, having gotten her big break when she was thirteen. She’d grown up in the limelight, had to go through all of the awkward growing pains in front of the world, and as a result, she’d grown a thicker skin. Or, rather, she’d learned not to care.

Reinette had accepted that being hounded by the paparazzi was simply part of her life, and so she taught James those same lessons until he thought it was normal to be photographed on every single date he went on, to have the papers speculate about his sex life or betting that he would propose to Reinette whenever they went on a tropical beach vacation or whether she was pregnant and the world would be welcoming a Noble-Poisson baby into the spotlight.

He will always love Reinette for helping him transition into the world of fame; he’d been in a bleak place when they’d met at an afterparty for one of her films. He’d been regretting his decision to sign with his record label and had been overwhelmed with having hardly any privacy. She had been a great friend, at first, a shoulder to lean on and the voice of reason when he shared all of his fears. It was so natural, the way they grew from friends to lovers, and James had gotten so comfortable with her that he assumed he would be with her forever, because he couldn’t be bothered trying to date anyone else in the public eye.

It was only when Reinette came to him and admitted she hadn’t felt a spark for him in several months that he felt the weight lift off his chest. He hadn’t realized how apathetic he had grown towards her and their relationship. They parted amicably, but all the bad habits Reinette had ingrained in him had stuck, leaving him at the mercy of the paparazzi because he never learned how to healthily manage them—which is how all of his subsequent relationships have ended up in the tabloids within a few hours of their conception, and how his partners inevitably grew tired of having their lives dissected alongside his. He didn’t know any better, so he stopped trying, letting the paps follow him around as he sampled all of life’s pleasures and not caring one bit.

That is, until he now needs to care, because he finally met a person who makes him want to protect his personal life with a ferocity he has never before experienced. Rose doesn’t deserve this, hasn’t signed up for this. She deserves privacy and respect, which is something he has never gotten from the media. But he will fight through hell itself to keep her safe from the parasites who want to get to him, because she is the best person he has ever known. She is light and warmth and love and…

He freezes, mid-pace, as his brain hits him with that last adjective. Love.

No, it isn’t possible. This thing with Rose was supposed to be casual, because she wanted casual, because why on Earth would she want to subject herself to the sort of life he leads. But here she is, telling him that she thought he wanted casual? And he still isn’t quite sure what she wants from him, from them, if she wants anything at all.

“James?”

He blinks rapidly, as though that will clear the static from his mind. Rose is frowning at him, and he realizes he has been frozen with his hands in his hair for God only knows how long.

“You okay?” she asks.

“I… yeah… I think…” Christ, what is he supposed to say? How is he supposed to take all the wild, anxious, insane thoughts that have just crossed his brain and put them into words for her? She’s going to think he’s a nutter (if she doesn’t already think that).

But he clearly has been communicating so poorly that Rose thought she was nothing to him, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He needs her to know that he never—not once—thought she was nothing. She has somehow become everything, and…

“I think I might be falling in love with you.” His tongue moves without his permission, shaping the words that will either damn them or heal them.

Rose goes wide-eyed and pale, her jaw slackening. “I… You… What?”

His heart is thudding behind his ribcage, his blood racing through his veins as though it is trying to escape his body and become something else. He begins to pace again, all of his nervous, frantic energy needing an outlet because once again, his big fat gob is getting him into trouble.

But you know what? Fuck it.

Fuck.

It.

He came here tonight to talk with Rose, so he’s going to fucking talk. After all of the accidental miscommunication they have inadvertently done over the course of their sort of real, sort of not real relationship, he is so tired of trying to curb his thoughts and feelings.

When was the last time he felt like this for another person? He can’t even remember. Granted, he falls a little in love with everyone he dates. He has always fallen hard and fast for people, no matter if it’s romantic or platonic, which is why it always breaks his heart whenever anyone leaves him, no matter how justified they are in their departure.

But Rose? She has never been more than a thought away from him for these past few weeks. She is the first person he wants to talk to every morning, the person he wants to share all of his good news with, the person he wants to reveal his every worry and fear to. He wants all of that from her, too. Hearing about her day is the highlight of his; making her laugh is the most potent high he’s ever had. She has wormed her way so thoroughly into his heart that it hurts to think of her not being there anymore.

And that’s only after a couple of weeks.

Christ, he’s fucked.

“Yeah. How absurd is that?” He huffs out a mad little laugh and digs his fingertips into his eyes. “I’ve known you for less than a month. It’s mad, innit? But I’ve been in love before, and this… you… this feels nothing like that, but in the best possible way. I’ve been writing love songs for years, and they’re all child’s play compared to the ballads I want to write about you and us. I don’t really know how to describe us, because this feels so different from anything I’ve felt before, but given time, I think it could be love.”

He continues rubbing his eyes as exhaustion overtakes him. It’s been an age since he’s had a proper night’s sleep, and the bender he went on last night is catching up with him. He’s so, so tired and he wants to go home and curl up in bed, but alas.

Rose is dead silent, and it’s doing nothing but making his anxiety worse, so he forces himself to look at her. She’s dumbstruck, like something smacked her over the head and she isn’t quite cognizant.

“Please say something,” he begs. At this point, he doesn’t care if she throws him out of her flat, because at least he’ll have an answer. But this limbo is hell. Pure, unadulterated hell.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks faintly.

He lifts a helpless shoulder. “I dunno. Something? Anything?”

“You can’t just spring all that on me and expect me to have something to say,” she complains. “Ten minutes ago, I thought you thought we were nothing. I thought I was just another notch in your bedpost. I thought you were here to beg me to reconsider because you didn’t want to lose your latest fuck buddy.”

Though he probably deserves that, he winces nevertheless.

“I thought you thought we were nothing, too,” he reminds her, though it comes out like a whining child. “Please tell me what you’re thinking. Anything at all.”

Rose closes her eyes and leans her head back against her recliner. She, too, looks exhausted. Impatient though he is, he forces himself to keep his stupid mouth shut as he waits for her to speak. It feels like an hour but is probably only half a minute when she finally tilts her head to the side and cracks open an eye.

“I think I’d like you to leave,” she murmurs. “Please.”

His heart plummets down into his toes, leaving him lightheaded, but he nods. “Right. Yeah. ‘Course. Sorry.”

“I just need time to think,” she adds hastily, and despite himself, his spirits lift their little hopeful heads. “It’s just… I haven’t been sleeping well. And I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation. You really messed with my head tonight. Not your fault. I just… I thought I knew what we were. Turns out I was completely wrong, and I don’t know what to think or feel.”

“Right. Yeah. ‘Course,” he says again. He picks up his plate and strides to the kitchen to dump his half-eaten pizza into the rubbish bin. “Sorry for ruining your dinner.”

“S’okay. I like cold pizza. It’ll be my lunch and dinner tomorrow.”

Rose stands on unsteady legs and follows suit, trashing her food then crossing her arms in front of her chest. They’re looking at each other awkwardly, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to realize she is waiting for him to leave. He nods to himself and makes a beeline for the door. Rose follows and holds it open for him.

The coast is clear, so once he steps into the corridor, he glances at her. His heart aches to see her so lost, and it aches further to realize he’s the one who has made her feel so low. He longs to fold her in his arms, to beg her forgiveness and ask if they can start over, to try again. But he doesn’t, because she asked for space to think.

Still, he can’t help but say, “I really have missed you. So much.”

She nods absently, and when it seems like she isn’t going to say anything, he offers her a half-smile and turns on his heel. He is about to open the door to the staircase when… 

“James!”

He glances over his shoulder, and Rose is half-way down the hallway. Though her hands are half-hidden by her fluffy sleeves, she wrings them awkwardly in front of herself as she comes to a stop before him.

“I… I missed you too.”

She gives him a shy, uncertain smile, but to him, it’s the most beautiful sight in the world. He returns the expression, matching her energy, as relief threatens to buckle his knees out from under him.

“Drive safe,” she adds, then she spins and skips back to her flat.

[spectralarchers]

Prompt: "I let people down. It's what I do."

Simon "Ghost" Riley deserves all the love in the world, but he's not Atlas - he can't carry the world on his shoulders alone 💔

(original twitter thread)

-

When the dust has settled and there's time to decompress after Las Almas, after Graves, after everything, when Ghost finally gets to go home to an empty apartment in Manchester, when the team gets some well earned time off, there's on place Ghost goes first.

He's changed into civvies, a pair of dark jeans, sneakers that were once white but are caked with mud, he's wearing a hoodie, and has thrown on a jacket on top of it. He's wearing a facemask and a cap, trying to disappear as much as he can.

The cemetery isn't crowded at this hour, right before lunch time. Hands in the pockets of his jacket, he walks a well known path, weaving through graves and markers, to the one place he hates visiting, but has to visit this time.

He'd bought some flowers, but halfway there, he'd put them on top of a trashcan. What the fuck will the dead do with flowers?

There's a slight drizzle coming down from above, and his jacket and pants are humid.

The gravel croaks under his steps, which feel heavy.

He finally makes it to the one space he otherwise thought he would never visit. It's where his family was buried, after... After everything. Passers-by probably think 'car crash' when they read the same death date, but Simon knows.

A car crash would have been a mercy.

Squatting in front of his family, he picks up some pieces of gravel. He's nervous, knows this will be emotional.

He sighs, pulling his rubbed hand down across his face. He's tired, exhausted, but he has to tell someone.

Tell them how he feels. He'd been the superior officer in Las Almas. He'd almost gotten Soap killed. He'd let Alejandro get captured. All of his men were taken.

And then they'd gone on the run. And people had gotten hurt.

He chuckles, letting go of the gravel pieces.

"I let people down. It's what I do," he finally says to nobody and to everybody, all of the Riley family staring back at him from gray pieces of marbles. The headstones seem ominous.

"I don't know how to do this," he continues, sighing.

"I miss you all. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm... I couldn't protect my crew either."

He tries to say something else, but the words catch in his throat.

He stays there for some minutes, playing with the gravel to take his mind off the mental pain.

Eventually, a young couple walks by, and he has to move out of the way for them. As he turns around, he opens his mouth to say something, doesn't, and lets go of the last piece of gravel he had in his hands.

He lets people down. It's what he does.

He let Price down. Let Laswell down. Let Soap down.

Just like he let his family down.

[doctorstethoscope]

Yes, Mr. President || Bullshit

art by @multiverse-mxdness

happy saturday my loves hope you’ve recovered from the last chapter

story summary: Scandal! AU– your mentor, David Rossi, has recruited you to make Senator Aaron Hotchner the next President of the United States. Once described as a political nun, the Senator helps you see that maybe you can mix business and pleasure.

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: discussion of adultery, food and alcohol consumption

wordcount: 2.2k

“Well, that’s bullshit. He says he’s asking for one little thing, but it’s not little, and it’s way more than one thing,” JJ points out after you explain the Joey situation. She gesticulates wildly as she speaks, the wine in the glass that she’s holding sloshing precariously. You’d headed back to the office to decompress after leaving Joey’s in a huff, pleasantly surprised to find the rest of the team still around. You’d pulled an expensive bottle of red out of the closet in your office and ordered Chinese food for a proper vent.

“And Rosen isn’t stupid,” Morgan continues off of JJ’s thought as he plucks a crab rangoon off of her plate. “He knows exactly what he’s asking, and he knows it’s not insignificant. He’s asking you to move, he’s asking you to leave all of your friends behind, he’s asking you to abandon your business, he’s asking you to start over in a new city where you have no client base–”

“He talked about settling down. I think if it had gone any better he would have asked me to be barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen,” you remark, taking a healthy swig of your glass of wine and washing it down with lo mein before topping the glass off. “So really, I don’t think my client base is on his mind at all.”

“God, does he know who he’s been seeing for all this time?” Emily scoffs. “It’s just so typical. Of course he expects you to drop your career for his. Never mind the fact that you’re the far more successful person of the two of you. Men.” She rolls her eyes.

“The way he asked was shitty,” JJ concludes. “How do you feel about it otherwise?”

“Are you asking if she’s considering it?” Morgan balks– clearly he’s made up his mind about the situation.

“Why shouldn’t she? She and Joey have been seeing each other for a while. They’re happy together. People move all the time, Morgan.” JJ counters.

“We are happy. And people do move. It’s not the end of the world,” you affirm, although you realize that you’re trying to convince yourself more than Morgan.

“It’s not that simple, though,” Emily points out, ever the realist. “It’s an emotional decision, too. You can’t rationalize yourself into a choice like this.”

“You’ve got a lot to consider,” Morgan says. And he doesn’t know the half of it.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I do.”

++++++++++

You should have known it was a trap when Rossi had insisted you come to the White House for coffee. “It’s supposed to rain, and the President’s in meetings all morning, anyways,” he’d said. He was a dirty, shameless liar. There wasn’t even a cloud in the sky.

You heard the President’s voice from behind you before the door even opened.

“David, Senator Granger won’t leave me alone!” His voice bellowed from the outer office. “He’s looking for—” He explains as the door opens, stopping short as he sees you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company. Hi,” he says, treating you to the briefest appearance of that sweet little dimple on the side of his face.

“Good morning, Mr. President,” you say professionally.

“I know what Granger’s looking for,” Rossi scoffs. “He’s about to get my foot up his ass, is what’s gonna happen when I handle it,” he mutters, excusing himself and leaving you alone with the President, shutting the door behind him. Damn him.

The President advances upon you as soon as the door clicks shut, his intentions clear across his face. It’s been weeks. You hadn’t talked to the President, and you hadn’t talked to Joey. You should have known that you couldn’t outrun this clock forever.

“Mr. President–” you try to warn him.

“Quiet,” he whispers as he takes your face in both of his hands, his voice low and rumbly, so achingly familiar that it draws a gasp out of you as he presses his lips to yours.

You let him kiss you for too long, but you’re helpless to stop him, not when his hands are so big and so warm and his arms are so strong and he sounds just as desperate for you as you are for him. But you stop him, because you have to.

“Aaron— Mr. President. Joey got a job offer at Harvard. He asked me to go with him.”

The new information leaves him undeterred– if anything, he only pulls you in tighter, kisses you harder. “You’re not going,” he tells you, and you spare a thought for your feminist sensibilities when the sentence sends a pang of longing through you.

“I don’t know if I am,” you tell him, winding your arms around his neck.

“No, you’re not,” he affirms, running his hands up and down your sides. "That's bullshit," he mutters into the crook of your neck.

“You’re married,” you remind him.

“I can fix that,” he tells you, and it’s the first thing that gives you pause.

You pull away from him, place your hands on either side of his face and make him look you in the eye so you know that he’s listening.

“The media will crucify you. You’ll lose everything,” you tell him.

“Not everything,” he says, taking your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it up so you’re looking at him. “Not anything important.”

“Aaron,” you start, stepping away from him.

“I mean it. I’m not happy. Whether you move or not, my marriage is over,” he assures you. “It’s going to take time, maybe even the rest of my presidency. She’ll fight. Or maybe I’m delusional, and she won’t. But I can’t do it any more, I can’t pretend like we’re still seventeen and messing around when we’re supposed to be doing our math homework. I’m getting out.”

“And I’m supposed to do what? Wait for you?” You scoff, refusing to look him in the eye. You know that if you do, the conversation is over. He’ll win. So you train your eyes up towards the ceiling instead.

“This isn’t theoretical anymore,” he says, reaching out for you, placing a hand over your wrist. “I love you,” he reminds you, bringing his hands back to your face. “It’s real,” he promises with a gentle kiss to your lips. “ Say you’ll wait for me. We love each other, angel. You and I…” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist, linking his hands at the small of your back. “We belong together. So say it,” he requests, tucking in to place a kiss to your neck. “Say you’ll wait for me.”

The enormity of the moment hits you all at once– he’s here, and he loves you, and you’re holding him, and he’s choosing you– it’s everything you ever wanted. But it’s still not real, it’s not tangible. You do love him. Maybe you even do belong with him. But he is still married. And he is still the President. And you may be the woman he loves, legitimately. But you’ll always be his mistress, first.

He presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, and like muscle memory, you bring your hand to the back of his head, curl your fingers into the deliciously soft hair there. You gasp. How could something so transient feel so real? How could something so immaterial play out in front of you and be so meaningful?”

“Wait for me, pretty girl. Please, please wait for me.”

“I’ll think about it,” you whisper.

“Hey,” JJ calls out for you one night as you’re all packing up to leave the office. “How well did you get to know the First Family’s detail when you worked at the White House?”

“I know most of them by name, at least. I obviously know the President’s detail better than The First Lady’s or Jack’s,” you tell her with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve got a first date tonight. Does the name LaMontagne mean anything to you? Will Lamontagne?” She asks.

It takes a minute, but then it comes to you. “Oh my god, yeah! He was on Jack’s detail. He was great with him– Jack loved him,” you tell her with a bright smile. “He seemed like a good guy.”

“Is this your first date since… the last guy?” Derek asks.

“Yeah,” JJ blushes, looking down at the floor.

“Jayje, that’s great news,” you say, wrapping her in a hug. “You deserve this, something good and somebody kind.”

“Where are you going? Do you know what you’re going to wear?” Emily asks, wanting to be in on the excitement.

“We’re having dinner in Alexandria,” JJ answers. “Which reminds me– do you still have those black pumps that lace up in the back?” she asks you, and you smile.

“Yeah, they’re in my closet, do you want to come back to my place with me and I’ll get them for you?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

When the two of you arrive at your apartment, there’s a floral arrangement in a vase on your front mat– a dozen red roses.

“Wow. Joey really wants you to move, huh?”

You know right away they’re not from Joey–he’s never once brought you flowers. You barely hear JJ over the sound of your own racing thoughts. “Huh?” You ask, and then, once you realize what she thinks is happening. “Oh, yeah. I guess so.” You pluck the card out of the arrangement.

“I know this is more ostentatious than normal, but you needed a pick me up, or maybe a reminder. I love you. We’ll figure the rest out. AH.”

You pocket the card, not wanting to risk JJ reading it while you fetch the shoes. She sits at one of the barstools in your kitchen while you grab the shoes from your closet, placing them in a box for her.

“Have you thought about the move at all?” She asks when you re-emerge from your bedroom.

You sigh. “It’s all I think about, and I never get any closer to making up my mind,” you tell her, taking a seat next to her.

She places one of your hands over her own, gesturing to the flowers with a tilt of her chin. “Clearly he wants to make it work. If you want to make it work, too, then that’s all it takes. Don’t analyze it too hard. It’s not about what you should want or what you think makes the most logical sense. You can’t make this fit in a box. You can only figure out what it is that you really want, and do everything in your power to keep it. Everything else is bullshit, anyways.”

You take in a little gasp, not expecting JJ’s words to affect you so much– and certainly not anticipating applying them to a situation she knew nothing about. “Thanks, Jayje. Don’t let me keep you. Have tons of fun tonight, and text me when you make it home.”

“I know who to call if I need help hiding a body,” she teases you as she bids her goodbyes and heads towards the door.

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

You’re eating a real meal– your first in as long as you can remember– when there’s a knock on the door– pasta, vegetables, crusty bread and a big glass of wine. You groan. Of course, you’re being interrupted. Why wouldn’t you be? You swing the door open, and Joey’s on your doorstep.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you say, attempting to stay polite despite your annoyance, and maybe a touch of hanger.

“Well, how could you be, when you’ve been ignoring my calls for weeks?” He spits out.

“Come on, Joey. Let’s not do this now.” You beg of him.

“So that’s it? We’re done?”

“I didn’t say that!” You argue.

“No, but you want to! You’re stalling. Stop stalling and just tell me the truth.”

“Joey–” you start, but apparently he’s not finished.

“Tell me that you don’t want to settle down. Tell me you don’t want to leave the city. Hell, tell me that it’s me. But tell me why I’ve been wasting my time. Tell me something.”

“I’m sorry, Joey. I’m really sorry,” you apologize. “I could go with you. I could settle down. I could do all of those things. But I don’t want to,” you confess, the simplicity of it nearly knocking the wind out of both of your sails. “I’m not built for it. I don’t want normal, and easy, and simple. I want difficult, devastating, life changing, extraordinary love. Don’t you want that too?” You ask, looking up at him, willing the tears that had gathered in your eyes not to spill over.

“No, I don’t. I don’t want any of that. I only wanted you,” He says lowly. He picks his head up, and notices the roses on your countertop. “Silly me, I guess,” he says with a humorless chuckle before storming out the door.

@shmaptainhotchner @call-me-mrsreid @dadbodhotch11 @the-modernmary @ssamorganhotchner @choppa-style @ssahotchie @rousethemouse @angelfxllcm @arsonhotchner @skyler666 @mintphoenix @gspenc @g-l-pierce @wheelsupkels

[falloutjay]

Can you please do Mysterion falling in love with a Civilian reader?

I was done much faster than expected honestly!

And Im pretty happy with my outcome and I hope so are you. I love Mysterion/ Kenny and was super happy to see a request for him, so thank you for that! (ɔ◔︣‿◔︣)ɔ ❤

________________________________

Mysterion x civillian!reader

“Stretch here….Ah….And a stretch there…Ha..” A deep voice mumbled. The tall and hooded figure enjoyed the newfound relieve and his eyes wandered once more over the streets below him.

Just an hour and Toolshed would take over.

Tonight, the hero known as Mysterion was bored out of his mind. Nothing really happened. No robberies. No drunk people causing problems. Not even a little bit of arguing.

He was happy of course, that nothing happened means that they did their job well. But a five-hour shift of just looking out and being on guard if anything happens can be annoying from time to time. Kenny, his civilian name, was just done for tonight.

He had this horrible headache, that came back ever so often after an especially violent fight with his arch nemesis Professor Chaos.

His body longed for a good long sleep and he was even a little hungry.

Oh, how he would kill for that half-eaten Bagel that was in the fridge at the hero hideout.

“Focus.” Mysterion reminded himself again and took a deep breath.

“Toolshed will be here soon, then we can sleep. We do this for Karen.” Just thinking about his little sister helped him regain control of his wandering thoughts and to get a better look at the city below him, he sat down at the edge of the building he was on and let his legs dangle in the air.

The streets looked so peaceful at… Blue eyes scanned the smartwatch display… 1 in the morning already.

Lazily, but still attentively those same blue eyes wandered from left to right and right to left, taking in everything that was going on, which wasn’t much. Just some people chatting her and there since he was close to the bars and clubs of the city.

Nothing of interest until a person caught his eye. They were young and seemingly alone, walking at a quick pace and looking somewhat out of place as they didn’t look like your typical party goer.

So naturally the hero was intrigued. He carefully got up and followed the young person that walked on the streets below.

Elegantly he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to keep up with the somewhat fast person he followed.

He didn’t do this because he was some kind of creep, but his gut feeling told him this was the right thing. Something seemed fishy and his gut had never disappointed him before.

And it really never disappointed him before, but he felt like an idiot after five more minutes of following. Maybe for once his gut was wrong? It looked like they arrived at their home and tried unlocking their door.

Mysterion let out a sigh, questioning if Toolshed had maybe already arrived? Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a commotion from below.

He peeked over the edge and the person he was following was now pressed against the door they had tried to open. Some tall man held them there and looked rather angry.

“I will never doubt you again.” Mysterion mumbled as he got ready to jump down. He landed as quiet as a cat and approached the two.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N. Why were you there?”

“Like I said, I just went and got my books back. Stop following me or I will call the police.”

“Don’t try to bullshit me, dipshit.”

“Leave them alone.” Mysterion now called out and stood firm just a few feet away.

“Wha-” The man mumbled, letting go of the other person. He now approached the hero and mustered him.

“What kind of clown are you?” He said and got all up in Mysterions face. The blonde could easily smell the alcohol in his breath as he asked the question.

“The only clown I see is you.” Mysterion growled, trying to look as intimidating as he could.

Which he did with ease.

The man scoffed, looking at the person he had followed one more time before leaving angrily.

Mysterion approached the still shocked person leaning on their door. “You alright?” Now Mysterions had the time to properly look at their face and he felt warm inside, despite the cold air.

“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks to you. Thank you for getting rid of him.” The blonde loved the sound of their voice. Wow, it sounded so brilliant and lovely in his ears.

“Who was that anyway?” Mysterion questioned as the person opened the door.

“My stupid jealous ex. It has been over for ages now, but he just keeps bugging me. I was picking up some book from my study buddy and he must have gone crazy.”

“Glad to hear he is an ex.” Mysterion said charmingly, a confident smile on his lips. “Yeah, me too.” The person kept standing there, not making a move to actually go inside just yet.

“May I know your name?” Mysterion asked. “It is Y/N. May I know my saviors name?” They asked, cocking their head and with a bright smile on their face.

“Mysterion.”

“You’re one of those heroes who watches over the town right? Like in the comics?” The hero laughed. His smokey voice was like a bittersweet melody in Y/N ears.

“Pretty much yeah.”

“That’s so cool honestly. That I would get a hero’s help someday… How lucky I must be. Maybe we will see each other again, Mysterion?” “I sure hope so. Good night, Y/N.”

Mysterion said, turning around to climb up a drainpipe to get back on the roofs. “Good night, Mysterion!” Y/N called out before disappearing inside.

Up on the roof, the hero could finally let go of his super serious façade and immediately he bit his lip. Normally he had no trouble keeping his civilian persona and Mysterion separate but goddamn that Y/N?

They actually had him stumble over his thoughts for a second.

“Okay, lets meet up with Toolshed and then we are fine.” He said to himself and quickly went on his way.

 A gloved hand went through golden locks and a dreamy sigh escaped pale peach lips. The owner of said things almost jumped up in surprise when a hand slammed down on his desk.

That hand belonged to a fellow superhero, named Human Kite. The most serious hero they had in their organization.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’re getting sick? Got shot? You’re not focused at all Mystery.” “Stop with that nickname or I’m gotta start calling you Human.”

“Fine…Fine.” The Human Kite said and sat on Mysterions desk. “I’m fine though, thanks for asking. I just had had an interesting encounter.” The redhaired hero raised an eyebrow.

“The high and mighty, super serious Mysterion is actually smiling and lost in thought? Must have been someone special…”

“I think…” Mysterion started and looked around, biting his lip. “I think I met my Mary-Jane or Lois Lane.” With a smug expression Mysterion looked up to the redhead.

“Damn, really? Must have been a real beauty, because I only know you as this super serious dude who everyone fears when they first see you.”

Mysterion leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Trust me, they are. Pretty h/c-colored hair, stunning e/c eyes and a body to die for.” Human Kite almost fell of the desk laughing.

“They really got ya. Better hope they like you too and are willing to be your Mary-Jane.” Kite chuckled, got up and walked away.

“Ah, come on, instead of being jealous I found someone pretty, go suck Toolshed’s dick. We all know you want it!”

Kite gave him the middle finger before leaving the facility. “You know it’s the truth.”

Mysterion shrugged, a big smile plastered across his face. Mosquito, who overheard the conversation over from his desk eyed Mysterion as he out his feet up.

“So, any plan in mind now, bsss?” He asked and looked over.

“I actually do, my Mosquito friend.”

 Y/N was on their way home. It has been an exhausting day. Right now, they just wanted to get home, lay on the couch and sleep. While searching for their keys, they felt like they were being watched.

“Come on, not today…” They mumbled, sincerely hoping their ex would not bother them today. Y/N quickly opened their mailbox, snatched the letters, and went inside, feeling relieved as soon as they got to sit on the couch.

After a few minutes, which they used to decompress, they looked through the mail.

“Bill, advertisement, trash, bill…Huh?” A blank envelope was left and curiously, Y/N opened it.

Their e/c eyes scanned over the neatly written words and immediately their inside felt all fuzzy and warm.

 “Dear Y/N,

I am not a man of many words nor can I write good letters.

But I have to say, I can’t get you out of my mind. My colleagues are already bullying me for it, saying you’re my Lois Lane or Mary-Jane.

If you would like to see me again, come to the old building next to the Raisins tomorrow night. I’ll be there at midnight, waiting for you.

M?”