#I’ve only ever been with one person who like enjoyed it and did it often

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

..

[frannyzooey]

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E (age gap)

Summary: Best friends with younger one, you’ve known the Miller brothers since forever — you’ve wanted the older one for just as long.

a/n: it’s been a while! I’ve been writing over on Ao3, but thought I would pop in and say hi and happy summer ❤️ enjoy! —

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you wonder how much longer you need to stay before it’s appropriate to leave. 

You can’t even remember the name of the person who's talking at you – someone who said they took calc with you or something, back in high school. Brian, maybe? Ben? Picking at the label on the bottle in your hand, you tip the last swallow of warm beer into your mouth, grimacing at the taste. 

“Gimme a second,” you interrupt him. “I’ll be right back.”

Not a fuckin’ chance , you think to yourself. 

Navigating through the crowd of people packed into the Miller’s living room, you make your way towards the kitchen. Needing another beer to get through it all, you head straight for the fridge – only to see someone already there, their broad back facing you. When they straighten and shut the door, you reach out and pluck the beer from their hand.

“Thanks for the beer, Miller.”

Joel huffs, grabbing another one from the fridge. Turning to face you, he leans his hip against the counter. 

“You even old enough to drink?” Twisting the cap off, he takes a long, slow drink, his throat working with the motion. 

You roll your eyes, and his eyes drift down your body and back up again. 

Playing it cool, you clink your bottle against his. 

“Cheers, old man.”

His eyes narrow, and he waits a beat before tipping the bottle against his lips. 

His face has been a fixture in your life for as long as you’ve known Tommy –  a kid you met back in elementary school. Tommy was a few years older than you, Joel even older than him. The fact that you were younger never bothered Tommy –  you were just as daring as any boy his age, and he was more fun than any girl your own. A fixture by his side more often than not, you’d stuck together through middle school and then high school, through boyfriends and girlfriends, through Tommy’s enlistment after senior year. 

The entire time, Joel was there. 

In the beginning, you never paid him any attention. Busy working since he could, you barely saw him. The couple times you did see him at parties, it was only as Tommy’s ride, or showing up when Tommy got in trouble with his mouth. Like he never had any patience for parties or stuff like that; an aged man since forever. Even at their house, Joel had been…around, but he never stuck around for long. Always drifting away to go hang out in the garage, or in his room. 

It was during high school when you started looking at him differently. Started paying attention to him in a way you never did before. Starting noticing things like he never had a girl around –  or at least one that stuck , though you knew he knew his way around them, because you saw him in town sometimes. 

Walking out of a liquor store with a brown bag, a girl sitting in the passenger seat of his truck. 

Pulling open the door of the bar, his hand on the small of another girl’s back. 

Once, you saw him at the movie theater you worked at senior year. You still remember the heat that flooded your face when he strolled up to the ticket booth where you were standing, the broad smile he had on his face for his date, one that turned your insides warm. His arm was looped around her back, his hand resting on her ass with casual confidence. 

You’d never been so jealous of someone in your life. 

You left him behind (not that he ever knew it) when you went away to college. A visit back home after your first year timed with a visit home from Tommy,  Joel is right where you left him, still on the fringes. Only at the party to keep an eye on things, to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand, still keeping to himself. He’s been upstairs all night, only coming down every so often for another beer. 

The mystery of how he spent his time used to consume you back in your school-kid crush days…and it comes back full force, when he leaves you in the kitchen to go back up to his room. 

Leaving the noise of the party behind you, you climb the worn carpeted stairs. The second floor of their house is off limits to party guests, but you also know that doesn’t apply to you. Having been to this house more times than you can count, you know right where Joel’s bedroom is. You’ve never been in it though, which is part of the pull that drives you towards it – along with a slice of light that breaks through where he’s left the door cracked.

You nudge it open with your knuckle, to find him sitting inside. 

At a desk chair, his legs spread wide in his slouch. A beer rests in his hand, the other one holding a book and at your presence, he puts the book face down in his lap. 

He frowns. “Everything okay down there?”

“Yea. Just thought I’d come up and say hi. See what you’re doing.”

“Said hi in the kitchen,” he teases. He lifts the book with one hand. “And I was readin’.”

Used to his gruff sarcasm, you ignore it. “Any good?” 

His eyes follow you as you walk further into the room, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 

“Not really,” he answers. “Just waitin’ for everyone to leave.”

You know that’s not going to happen any time soon; another large group of people had walked in just as you made your way upstairs. 

A golden hue washes over everything, a single lamp burning on the desk, the colors of everything else dulled in the dim light. Shadows pool in the corners of the room, but he is lit, though only parts of him: the chestnut ends of his curls, his tanned skin, the stretch of his jeans across his thighs. The bed you sit on has a rumpled comforter, clearly having been slept in. 

Arousal pools low and heady between your hips. 

Has he ever brought another girl up here? Has he fucked anyone in this bed?

You imagine it briefly: his flushed cheeks, his heavy breathing, his muscles shifting under his skin. Your hand trembles, and you grip your beer tighter. 

“Already sick of bein’ downstairs?” he asks. 

You thumb at the condensation gathered on the bottle, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Yea. Sort of. It’s always a little awkward when you come back, you know?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. Never been anywhere but here.”

Your shoulders slump, and you let out a sigh. “Right. But you know what I mean.”

Suddenly, the weight of exhaustion pulls at you: the smiles you had to force downstairs, the names you tried to recall, the crush of people and the fake enthusiasm. You came here for Tommy, and you’ve barely seen him tonight. Forgetting for a second that you’re not in Tommy’s bedroom, you relax and let yourself fall backwards on Joel’s bed. The second you do it, you freeze – but don’t correct it. 

You’re in Joel Miller’s bed. Lying down. 

You feel the hem of your shirt ride up, but don’t fix it. The sheets smell like him, and you hear him huff. 

You also feel the weight of his eyes on you. 

–

He should be more annoyed that you’re in his bedroom, but he can’t take his eyes off your legs: a mile long in your cutoffs, the slight peek at the curve of your ass in their ride high. The slice of soft skin he can see, between your waistband and your shirt. 

He watches you roll over and prop your head up on your hand, not liking at all how good you look in his bed. 

He’s been watching you since you came back. Watched you even before that, though he’d never admit it. Walking around their backyard in a tiny bikini when you lounge with Tommy by the pool, looking gorgeous as hell all windblown and carefree sitting in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck, looking so fucking innocent and beautiful swamped in one of Tommy’s sweaters by the bonfires he’s been having at night since he came back.  

The sight of your ass in those shorts as you walk around their house has been imprinted on his mind all week. 

He sits up, clearing his throat. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he lets his head hang down between his shoulders. If he can avoid looking at you, maybe his cock will stop hardening with interest. 

“I think you better get back downstairs.”

“I just wanna catch up,” you reply innocently, looking anything but. 

He looks up, giving you a knowing look in reprimand. “That ain’t all you wanna do.”

He doesn’t know what compelled him to say that to you , but he does know it to be true. He’s seen the look on your face on plenty of women before – women . You’re a girl . One he’s known since forever. One he never thought about until he did, and one he tried not to think about once he started. 

One who is way too fucking young for the things he’s thought about doing to you. 

“No?” you ask. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I wanna do?”

He shakes his head instead. 

The edges of your mouth curl up in a soft, teasing smile. “Joel Miller, a secret prude.” 

His head snaps up, “I ain’t no prude, honey, you’re just –”

“Honey?” Your eyebrows lift, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just what?”

“ Young. Too young.”

“I’m twenty.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes and you cave. 

“Almost. In a few months.”

He huffs in disgust, dropping his head back down. “Jesus Christ. A baby.”

He feels you study him for a moment. 

“I missed you while I was gone, you know.”

The confession surprises him, and he looks up to find your face completely sober, truthful. 

“Did you miss me?” you ask quietly. 

The vulnerability on your face pulls at him, and even though he knows what will happen if he gets on that bed, he wants to. If only to tuck you against his chest and reassure you that he did. He really did. He knows you think he never noticed you, but that’s only because he made you feel that way. He couldn’t notice you, for both your sakes. 

“Just come…sit with me, okay?” you ask. “I’m not gonna bite.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, keeping his eyes on the floor. He feels you wait with bated breath, knowing full well that he should stand up and walk you out of his bedroom…but he can’t bring himself to leave you hanging like that. 

Instead, he stands, and walks over to the bed. 

Your face flashes with surprise that you try to hide, and he smirks. 

There is a look on your face he’s seen a million times — a bolstering sort of lift to your chin, the look of a tough girl that would follow his brother anywhere. A girl who never backed down, even when he could tell she was nervous. 

A girl he knows he shouldn’t want, but does anyway. 

He tests the waters, crawling onto his bed. Stretching out next to you, he sprawls across the mattress, his broad form partially covering yours in shadow.  He can feel the heat gather between your bodies. You look even younger close up, and he leans closer, unable to stop himself from pushing to see how far you’ll go.

He recognizes that same determined look on your face now, only this one is slightly different. This one is laced with lust, and want. So much fucking want it makes him ache. 

“Okay, big girl,” he drawls. “Now what?”

–

It’s his turn to be surprised when you lean in and press your mouth to his. 

You can tell because he momentarily freezes when your lips meet, his stubble brushing against your skin, your lips fitting neatly along the seam of his own.  You kiss him again, this time opening your mouth just enough to let him in and he takes your invitation, the taste of beer thick on his tongue when he slides it against yours. His hand comes up, cradling the curve of your jaw as you tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss and a soft sound that catches in the back of your throat has his fingers flexing, pulling you closer. 

The sheets rustle beneath you when he takes over, his hold guiding you beneath him on the bed. He kisses you harder, longer, a deep groan rumbling from his chest, the light of the room blocked out behind him. His solid body weighs heavy on top of you, his denim clad hips pushing between your thighs with a grind and you open your legs wider, his hand sliding up the outside of your leg to hitch your knee around his hip. 

It’s sensory overload after wanting him for so long. You’ve daydreamed about this a million times, imagined it happening a million different ways, but you never thought it would be anything like this. Lost in the weighted haze of lust, drunk on the way he feels against you, head swimming with arousal, the crotch of your panties already so fucking wet that they slide over your achingly empty core with every rock of his hips into yours. Meeting the rolling grind of his hips with your own, you feel the weight of his cock press against you, his calloused hand covering your breast with a squeeze. His hips rock forward again, the grinding promise of what he’s capable of against the damp seam of your shorts and you are just about to beg him for more when he pulls back, standing. 

In one long stride, he shoves the door shut and locks it. 

Tugging his shirt off with a one handed grip over his head, you take in the sight of his broad, solid chest and the dusting of hair that scatters sparsely just under his collarbones. It’s thicker along his sternum, even thicker still just under his navel, where it leads into the waistband of his jeans. He looks so…big, from where you lay on the bed. Older, masculine in a way you’ve never seen on a boy your age. Your eyes run the length of his body and back up again, the outline of his thick cock pushing against the fly of his jeans making your cunt flutter. 

He opens the drawer next to his bed, tossing a condom down and there is something so arousing about the matter of fact action, the implied sight of it just sitting there, waiting for him. Black, with gold letters. When his hands drop to work open his belt buckle with single minded intent, you reach down to slide your shorts off. 

“Don’t.”

Your hands pause. 

“I wanna do that.”

You don’t even know what to say in response before he’s bending to grab you behind your knees, hauling you to the edge of the bed. Your shirt rides up your back, and sit up enough to tear it over your head, your bra following shortly after as his greedy eyes track every movement. His thick fingers pop open the button on your shorts, hooking under the fabric and he drags them down and off, bringing your panties along with them.  

Then he stands there, his hands on your knees. He pushes them apart, and you try not to squirm as he spreads you for him. 

“Goddamn.” The word pours out of his mouth, saturated with awe, low with lust. 

Your thighs flinch, your knees trying to pull together to hide yourself from the heat of his gaze, but he keeps a firm grasp on them, holding you open. 

“Don’t try to hide it from me now, honey.”

His eyes drop from your face to the gleaming spread of your cunt. He reaches down, his thumb brushing over your opening, and it’s so fucking filthy the way he drags it through the mess you’ve made for him. 

“Especially not when it’s this pretty,” he murmurs. 

He drops to his knees, your breath hitching when he tugs you closer to his mouth and guiding your legs over his bare shoulders, his mouth immediately seeks you out. 

“ Fuck .” 

The word slides into a moan when your body bows off the bed to chase the slick heat of his tongue. It smears wetness over everything, dipping inside you to drag upwards to your clit and then he’s fitting the bottom half of his face along your cunt with a messy, open mouthed kiss. 

He devours you there the same way he devoured your mouth earlier, and the sensation is simultaneously  too much but not enough, your hands finding purchase in his sheets. You fist them, twisting them in your grip as you start to rock your hips and you have never - never - had this done to you before, a tremble pouring sweet and thick down your spine to pool right under his mouth. 

His hands keep your thighs forced open, his shoulders spreading you wider and when his tongue starts to swirl firm, tight circles over your clit, it drags a hoarse moan out of your throat. 

Too consumed to care if you’re being too loud, every thought leaves your head when two thick fingers stroke delicately along  the dip of your opening, before sliding inside you with a filling stretch just as he starts to suck . His whiskered cheeks hollow with it, your words breathless and pleading. A stretch just to take his fingers , you close your eyes and feel your stomach drop when you think about taking his cock.

The thought alone sends you flying over the edge. 

When it happens, he groans into you just as loud as if he’s the one who’s come, and a second wave washes hot over your limbs when you peek down to see the upper half of his face between your spread thighs. His brows pinched together, his eyes closed tight, his white knuckled hold on your thighs. 

The music turns up louder downstairs, a shout of a crowd greeting new arrivals – but it’s lost in the intimacy of the bedroom. His satisfied low groans, your trembling thighs, his damp beard against your skin.  

Pulling back, he wipes your slick from his face with his hand – and then gives your cunt a sharp, flat swat. 

The action shocks you, your eyes widening and the grin on his face is charmingly boyish. Or would be, if he didn’t follow it with a filthy suck of the fingers that were just inside you. He stands, shucking his jeans and briefs off in one movement, and puts a knee on the bed between your legs, reaching for the condom. His large hands rip it open, and though you can feel his gaze rest heavily on you as he puts it on, your eyes are fixed firmly on his cock. 

It’s – big. Much bigger than you’ve ever seen, a grown man’s dick. He fists it lazily for a moment, the weight of it evident in his grip and when he places the condom over the tip and rolls it down to the base, you openly stare. The translucent rubber fits snug and tight, down to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. 

When you finally drag your eyes up to his face, he looks smug. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. It’ll fit.”

The amount of times you’ve thought about this moment is nothing compared to the real thing. The man standing in front of you has always been off limits, a complete mystery to you all these years, even as the subject of most of your debased fantasies. The realness of him — the solid width of his frame, the flush to his skin, the amount of bare, firm skin on display. You swallow hard, a bundle of nervous anticipation even though he just fucked you with his mouth. 

He settles his body on top of you, caging you underneath him and the press of his hot skin has all of your nerves scattering, evaporating into need . 

His mouth rests right next to your ear, a kiss brushed against the divot below it. 

“We’ll make it,” he whispers. 

If you thought his fingers were a snug fit, it’s nothingcompared to how full you feel as he slides in. The stretch almost to the point of pain save for how wet he got you beforehand, it still steals the air from your lungs as he pushes inside. You squirm underneath him, shifting to accommodate every single inch and his hand curls around your waist, his hips pushing forward with a final, hard thrust. 

His mouth brushes tenderly along your clenched jaw, letting you get used to it before his hips find a rolling rhythm. Every downstroke shoving you up underneath his hold, you hold on tight, hitching your knees up along his ribs and your feet slide over his tailbone, a whine crawling out of your outstretched throat. 

“This little pussy is so tight ,” he groans, his hot breath gusting over your skin. “So fucking tight.”

His hand shoves itself under your tailbone, angling your hips to take him deeper and his own groan sounds deep over your softer, higher one. 

“Do you have any idea how much I thought about fuckin’ you? How many different ways I’ve wanted to?”

Hearing him utter those words makes your chest crack open, your heart thundering underneath your rib cage. Everything you’ve ever wanted to hear, paired with more than you ever thought you would. 

He picks up pace, his hips a relentless, heavy pound into the cradle of your own, each thrust punching the air out of you – and your fingers claw into his forearms when he sits back on his heels, pushing your knees to your chest to fuck you harder. 

The bed pounds lewdly against the wall, the music from the party covering it up. 

“Joel,” you whine, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. It feels like you’re being used by him, your body a tool for his own pleasure, your pliant, moldable body being positioned just for his use. It sends you higher, thinking about him doing the same for others, right here in this bed. 

You start to tense underneath him, the wave of slick, brutal pleasure pulling you under and when you come, it’s a wordless, breathless thing – your body pulling taut, your cunt squeezing him tight. He groans, dropping forward to cover your mouth with his, his hand sliding up to wrap around the nape of your neck with a grip and he forces himself deeper, his strokes urgent in their snap against you. 

He rests his forehead against yours, and through the haze of your freshly fucked gaze, he recognizes the same look from before. A girl who never backs down, a girl who knows how to hold her own. 

“I already want it again, Joel,” you breathe against his mouth, his heavy pants washing over your lips. “Next time, I’m gonna ride you. I’m gonna sit on your lap and you can watch me take it, okay?”

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips stuttering. They chase the slick warmth of your cunt, his eyes closing tight. 

“You’re fuckin’ trouble, you know that?” he rasps, his fingers threading into the hair at your nape, fisting it with a tug. The motion tips your head back for him, a victorious grin stretching across your face. 

“A pain in my ass since I met you,” he pants, letting out a deep groan. “A sweet piece of ass in my bed.”

You nod, the smile on your face melting into something pleasure soaked when he shifts the angle of his hips. 

“I’m gonna come inside this little cunt, okay? And then I’m gonna do it all over again. You ready, honey?”

“God yes.”

He buries his face in the damp crook of your neck when he comes, he back rounding as his hips still in their push against yours. He’s so deep you know you’re going to feel it tomorrow – more than you’ve ever taken, a stretch you know will make you ache every time you sit down. He holds onto you so tight that you can barely breathe, and it’s a special sort of heaven to be buried underneath the bulk of his body. Your cheek pressed against his curls, your chest compressed under his. Your hips sore from being spread so wide, your cunt still snug around him. 

He lifts just enough to see you, and opens his mouth – right when something crashes beneath his room. 

“What the fuck , Tommy,” he grumbles, and you laugh at his instant change of expression. He slips out from inside you with a groan, his hips imperceptibly shifting forward to chase the heat between your thighs. He presses a quick, hard kiss against your lips and then he’s dragging himself from the bed, tugging the condom off and tying it in a neat knot. 

Tossing it in the trash next to his bed, he grabs his jeans off the floor. 

“I’m gonna go downstairs and see what the hell that was,” he says, sliding them up over his bare ass. Buttoning them, he shoots you a look. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ get dressed.”

You gesture a wordless salute, and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Smartass,” he grumbles, picking a shirt up off the floor. Sliding it over his head, he opens the door and disappears. 

“Tommy!” 

You hear him shout and a laugh bubbles up from your chest. 

“What the fuck was that?”

Stretching out, you slide against the warm, rumpled sheets and listen to the familiar sound of their deep voices. For the first time since you’ve been back, you feel like you’re home. 

Pressing your face into his pillow, you take a deep breath – and grin. 

[fireinmoonshot]

unpredictable (like the weather) | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (mentions of slight Scott x Fem!Reader) Summary: When you meet Tyler Owens, you have no intention of getting to know him – you know what kind of reputation he has in town. Tyler, on the other hand, has only one plan: win you over in any way he possibly can. Warnings: Alcohol, heavy drinking/getting drunk (not the reader), mentions of being sick Word Count: 7k A/N: So, someone commented on my last longer fic, Death Wish Love, saying that Tyler reminds them of the movie The Choice (which I love), so I rewatched it the other day and this is what ended up coming out of that inspiration! I wrote it pretty much all in one day (which is kinda insane for me), but now that Twisters is out online and I rewatched it twice in two days, the desire to write for Tyler is stronger than ever. This one is a longer one, so settle in and enjoy! 💗

If someone was to ask Tyler Owens about the first time he met you, he’d say that things didn’t quite go to plan. Not that there was a plan at all, really, considering the fact that he didn’t know who was going to be on the other side of the door when he heard a knock. All he knew when he opened it was that the woman standing on the other side, holding a stack of several towels in her arms, was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

“Oh, damn, let me take those,” Tyler said, reaching out to take the towels from you. “I told the owners we’d be happy to come grab them ourselves. You didn’t have to bring them all the way up here, but it’s well appreciated.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “The owners are my parents, and there’s nothing they love more than sending their daughter to work…” You really looked at him, then. Tall, blonde… and soaked from head to toe in water. The man was literally dripping, a puddle having formed on the tiled floor at his feet. “Did one of your pipes break or something? Do you need a repairman?”

Tyler looked down at himself and laughed. “No, we uh– we were out chasin’ and we got caught in the middle of a rain storm when we jumped out of the truck to grab some footage.” He jabbed a finger over his shoulder and you spotted another man further in the room, wringing out a bright yellow t-shirt in the sink. “Weather can be pretty unpredictable.”

“Oh, you’re storm chasers?” You raised your eyebrows, seemingly intrigued. “We get a lot of those here at the motel.”

Tyler couldn’t help the grin that sprung to his face. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he hummed. “None quite like us, though.” He watched as your lips quirked up into a small smile. “So, your parents own the place? Does that mean I’ll be seeing you around more often?” 

“Maybe. If you need more towels.”

Tyler laughed and you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling from your lips as well. He was just about to ask you for your name when Boone came up to him, grabbed a towel and said “Quit flirting and start dryin’ yourself off. You’re makin’ a mess of the place in front of the owners daughter, Ty.” 

The smile dropped from your face almost instantly and for a moment, you just looked at him without saying a word. Tyler had just started to wonder if he or Boone had said something wrong when you spoke again. 

“Are you Tyler Owens?”

Boone let out a loud whoop. “Told ya we’re gettin’ famous on Youtube, Ty! 200,000 subscribers, baby!”

“You’ve heard of me,” Tyler replied, a little cockily, ignoring Boone behind him. He was suddenly even more curious about you. You must have come across their Youtube channel – maybe you were even subscribed. He could forgive you for not recognising him at first sight. That simple fact somehow made you even more attractive to him. Maybe you were more interested in their storm chasing videos than in him… but he could change that.

“Oh, honey, that’s not a good thing.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve been warned about you. By the girls at the bar in town. Ringing any bells?” You crossed your arms over your chest and suddenly Tyler was intimidated. Tyler was the type of guy who never got intimidated.

He hated that it wasn’t ringing any bells in his head. He’d gone to the local bar a fair few times over his years of storm chasing around the area. He was a flirt – that much was clear to anyone that spoke to him. But he was a gentleman as well. His mother had raised him to be.

“Please don’t take offence to this, darlin’, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tyler attempted, though he had a feeling you’d already made up your mind about him. 

You smiled at him, then, and Tyler knew it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was more of a how the hell don’t you know what I’m talking about smile. If that was a thing.

“Tyler Owens, the storm chasing hunk who flirts with everyone but the second things look like they might get serious, he hurries off with a tornado to chase,” you explained. “That you?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a “Hang on– no– okay, that’s not–”

Much to his dismay, you were clearly done with the conversation. “If the towels are all you need, I’ve gotta get back to work. You’re welcome to ring the office if you need anything else. Just dial 7 on the phone on the desk.”

With that, Tyler watched as you turned on your heel and walked away. He laughed to himself in disbelief at what had just happened, leaning up against the doorframe until you disappeared from view.  

“Hey, storm chasing hunk suits you, man,” Boone called from where he was towel drying his hair in the mirror. 

“Not sure if that’s the kinda reputation I’m after, Boone.” 

Tyler had learnt that day that you could also be just as unpredictable as the weather. 

~~

After your first encounter with Tyler Owens, you had been glad not to see him for a month. It’d been a relatively calm weather month, with a few storms here and there but none really amounting to anything. It was good in some ways, but not in others. Less storms meant less storm chasers staying at the motel, which meant less money. 

You’d almost found yourself wishing for more storms.

At least until you saw Tyler’s familiar red truck pulling into the parking lot on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

That day, your parents had left you in charge while they headed out to Oklahoma City to stock up on a bunch of supplies that the motel was running low on, and how typical of that to be the day Tyler Owens and the Tornado Wranglers returned after their month long absence.

You watched as Tyler walked towards the office, clearly not bothered by the drizzle of rain. It didn’t surprise you – given the fact that he’d been soaked from head to toe when you first met him and was more interested in flirting with you rather than drying off. That had told you everything you needed to know about him.

When he pulled open the door and met your eyes, he flashed you a grin. “Your favourite storm chasing hunk returns,” Tyler greeted, his tone joking. “Long time no see, hey?”

“If only it’d been longer,” you give him a small smile of your own. “And favourite is a bit of a stretch. I met you once and you think you had that much of an impression on me? Have we got some storms coming our way, then?” You attempt to change the topic.

“What if I said I was just here to see you?”

You raised your eyebrows as you looked up at him. “I’d say you’re an asshole for getting my hopes up that we might end up booked out with storm chasers for the next couple of days.”

Tyler scrunched up his nose a little. He looked cute. Even though you’d been warned to steer clear of him, you had to admit he was a good looking man. You shook the thought from your mind.

“Been slow out this way this month?” He asked.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day then. You got five rooms for us? Just for the one night for now. Gotta see what tomorrow brings,” Tyler said. 

You knew that there were five rooms for them – there were only three other guests staying in the motel at the moment and you had forty rooms, so it was an easy job to book five for Tyler and his team.

“Five rooms, huh? Not sharing anymore?”

The last time they’d stayed, you remembered that they’d only booked three rooms. The dark haired man with the moustache had been in Tyler’s room when you’d met him. 

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, our Youtube has kinda blown up a bit over the past month,” he chuckled. “We can afford separate rooms for the first time ever so we’re making the most of it.”

You made a mental note to look their Youtube channel up later. Even if Tyler wasn’t on your radar, all of his friends had seemed nice enough last time you met them, and they must have been fairly talented at what they did to have amassed such a following online.  

“Okay, so your rooms are from 201 to 205, just head up the stairs to the second level and you’ll see the numbers on the doors,” you said, grabbing the five sets of keys to the rooms and handing them to him.

He took the keys, slinging the key rings on his fingers to make them a little easier to carry. 

“I guess I’ll see you around, then?” Tyler asked, taking a step back from the counter.

You smiled at him. “Not if I can help it.”

~~

The Tornado Wranglers had stayed at your motel a few more times since the second time Tyler met you, and every time, you had reacted to him the same way. You tolerated him. No matter how much Tyler tried to win you over, flirt with you, get you to show any interest in him, it never worked. 

Tyler was nursing his sorrows with a beer, the rest of the Wranglers and a few other storm chasing groups in the parking lot of your motel when he saw you. You were tugging on a coat and heading out of the office, a set of car keys in your hands.

He’d known that you didn’t live at the motel like your parents did and had seen you arriving at the motel early in the mornings when he’d been up early during their stays in the past, but he’d never seen you when you left. 

“I’ll be right back,” Tyler said to no one in particular, putting his beer down and standing up, jogging over to where you were walking towards your car. “You heading out?”

You turned, meeting his eyes, and let out a sigh at the sight of him. “Going home, actually.”

“Why don’t you stay?” Tyler asked, nodding back to where his group was. “Have a couple of drinks with us. We don’t bite, really. You might enjoy yourself.” He was being truthful in his words. He’d decided to try a new method. No flirting, just honesty. Just trying to show you that he was interested in you without being too over the top.

For a moment, Tyler thought you might actually say yes.

“I can’t,” you shook your head. “But you guys enjoy your night, and try not to be too loud. Remember that my parents live here and they don’t wanna deal with noise complaints.”

Tyler laughed. “When have we ever been the cause of a noise complaint, darlin’?”

You laughed, too, and Tyler thought it was the most beautiful sound on earth.

“Okay, none that I’m aware of but there’s a first time for everything.”

“Exactly,” Tyler grinned. “If you’re not gonna come have some drinks with us, then what do you say to coming on a chase with us? First time for everything. Promise I won’t drive you into the middle of a tornado on your first chase.”

You raised your eyebrows. “So, you think I’m gonna say yes to a tornado chase when I won’t say yes to drinks? Tyler Owens, you are ridiculous,” you let out a breathy laugh. “And who says I haven’t chased before?”

With that, you were quick to unlock and get into your car, ending the conversation. Tyler stepped out of the way as you reversed and drove out of the motel. He sighed to himself as he walked back to the group, a small smile on his face. Had you chased before? He wanted to know everything about it, about you. Who had you chased with? When? He figured they were questions he’d never get the answers to. 

“Oh, you got it bad, Ty,” Boone said as he got back to his seat. 

“Yeah,” Tyler said, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I do.”

~~

The next few times Tyler stayed at the motel, he didn’t see you. Your parents had insisted that you were all right when he’d asked, just told him that you’d ‘gotten busy all of a sudden’, and Tyler wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

It was the fourth time they’d stayed at the motel in the past month when he saw you again, and it was only when he and the other Wranglers made their way to the local bar for some drinks after a long day of failed chasing. The very bar you’d mentioned to him that he had a reputation in. 

He almost walked straight back out the door when he saw you, but Boone pulled him right back in, insisting that this was the night to show you that he was nothing like his reputation anymore. If he could win you over, tonight would be the night, Boone said. 

Boone had never been further from the truth.

It wasn’t long after they’d arrived that Tyler spotted a few members of the relatively new Storm Par team wandering into the bar, dressed in their uniforms like they were attending a meeting, not going out for drinks. He scoffed – until he saw the tall browned haired man , Scott, he thought his name was, wandering over to you, holding… holy hell, was he bringing you roses?

By the smile on your face, they were definitely for you.

Oh, Tyler felt like he could melt right into the floor. So this was why you’d never paid him any attention? This was why you’d been missing from the motel? Your parents telling him you were busy was because you were with Scott? He suddenly remembered you saying you’d been chasing before. It had to have been with Scott. 

Storm Par had begun to get in their way a lot with their chasing, and now they were getting in his way again, but with you instead. 

He watched as you took the roses from Scott’s hands and sniffed them, a smile blooming beautifully on your face as Scott took a seat beside you, resting his hand on your thigh. 

Boone, sitting beside him, muttered an “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Lily said from the other side of Boone. “You all right over there, Ty?” 

He hadn’t realised he’d paused with his beer half way to his mouth. He cleared his throat and spun around in his chair, moving to face the bar again. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught staring at you in this bar of all places. 

“I’m fine,” Tyler lied through his teeth. “She was never interested in me anyway, and now I have a reason not to be interested in her anymore.” Or a reason to be incredibly jealous and have a few too many drinks… which is exactly what Tyler did.  

Later that night, he found himself wandering across the bar to find you. He’d watched Scott and the rest of the Storm Par team leave an hour ago and had been surprised that you’d stayed behind. 

Dani and Dexter had attempted to stop him but there was really nothing that could stop Tyler Owens when he set his mind to something. Even if, a few hours ago, Tyler had felt like giving up on winning you over was the best course of action.

But Tyler Owens didn’t give up. Not that easily, anyway. And who was he to give in to someone from Storm Par? He was Tyler Owens, a Tornado Wrangler! The fact that he was incredibly drunk never crossed his mind.

“So,” Tyler said, pulling up the seat beside you. “Scott from Storm Par took you chasin’.”

You spun to look at him, surprised by his appearance. You’d spotted him in the bar a few hours ago but had been too preoccupied at the time to think much of it. You assumed he’d left when you’d seen a few members of his team leave earlier, but apparently not.

“He did,” you nodded. “I take it you saw him and the others here earlier.” 

Tyler screwed up his nose. “But you’ve never been storm chasin’ with me.”

You looked at him, amused. He was clearly quite intoxicated. You’d never seen him like this before. Drunk Tyler Owens was quite endearing. “No, I haven’t been.”

“You should,” he said. “I think you haven’t actually been storm chasin’ for real unless you’ve been in my truck, storm chasin’ with me. And you haven’t been, so your trip with Scott doesn’t count.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. This was the man the girls at this very bar had warned you about? The one that flirted with everyone? The poor man was much too drunk to flirt with anyone right now – including you. That probably wouldn’t stop him from trying though.

“Oh, doesn’t it? Well, that’s a shame. I’ll have to tell Scott.”

Tyler shook his head. “Don’t tell your boyfriend I said that.”

“Boyfriend?” You raised your eyebrows. “Who says he’s my boyfriend?”

You saw something like hope spark in Tyler’s eyes. “Isn’t he?”

“He wishes he was,” you admitted, looking down at the roses on the table in front of you. You hadn’t expected him to give those to you, nor to make a beeline to you when they arrived at the bar tonight. Sure, Scott was cute, and he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but when you looked at him… well, that was the problem, really. When you looked at him, you just couldn’t look at him the way you should look at someone you really liked. 

Tyler stared at you for a few moments, as if in shock. “I will be right back.”

With that, Tyler jumped up from the chair and bolted straight to the mens bathroom. You watched as the man he was sitting with before, Dexter, sighed and walked into the bathroom after him. Dani, the other member of his team, wandered over to you.

“Sorry about him,” she said, nodding her head towards the bathrooms. “He usually doesn’t get that drunk. He’s much better at holding his liquor than you’d think he is.” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. Will he be okay? If he doesn’t drink that much?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Dani seemed quite certain. “He’ll wallow in his self pity for a while and then he’ll be back to same ol’ Tyler. Anyway, I’m gonna go order an Uber to take us back to the motel. No way Ty’s staying here after that. See you around, yeah?”

Dani left before you had a chance to ask her what self pity he was wallowing in and by the time Tyler and Dexter came out of the bathroom, Tyler was in no state to continue a conversation with you. Dexter gave you a nod as he helped a very green looking Tyler out of the bar and probably into the Uber awaiting them outside. 

You finished off your drink and sat in silence, thinking to yourself for a while. For the first time since you’d met Tyler Owens four months ago, you were actually feeling intrigued by him.

~~

It’d been three weeks since your encounter with Tyler Owens at the bar. You hadn’t seen them the following morning, as they’d left the motel early to get chasing, according to your parents, who had taken the keys when they checked out. 

They’d been at the motel once since, and you’d been surprised at the disappointment you felt when Tyler had ignored you for the entire time. He hadn’t even said a single hello, nor come up to you and joked or flirted with you like he usually did. You had no idea if he remembered your conversation at the bar a few weeks ago, but your instinct told you that he didn’t. You couldn’t help but be curious at what had caused the switch.

It was out of that same curiosity that you typed Tornado Wranglers into Youtube and clicked on their channel, wondering if you watched some of their videos, you’d get some kind of clue as to why Tyler had changed around you. They had 500,000 followers now, and you vaguely remembered Boone mentioning they had 200,000 when you’d first met them. That was quite an impressive growth for four months, especially for something as niche as storm chasing.

You were about to start scrolling through their videos when you noticed a new one, right at the top, titled Not My First Tornadeo Live Stream. You laughed a little at the name as you clicked on it, not sure what you were exactly clicking onto. But your breath caught in your throat at the sight that greeted you when it loaded.

For the first time, you let yourself notice how attractive Tyler Owens really was.

Tyler and Boone were sat in the front seats of what you assumed was his red truck and, by the looks of it, they were driving head first into a tornado, as they seemed to do quite often judging by the thumbnails and titles of their other videos. Tyler was driving, one hand on the wheel and his other arm leaning against the arm rest.

“Looks like this is gonna be a good one, guys!” Boone cheered, turning to face the camera to the outside of the truck and showing the tornado forming in front of them. “Look at that beauty!”

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Boone moved, taking the camera with him and pointing it out of the passenger seat window. He then spun it again, facing it towards himself to show the upper half of his body hanging out the window. 

“Boone, get back inside,” you could barely hear Tyler’s voice through the wind on the microphone.

You were surprised when Boone listened to him, moving back inside the truck and pointing the camera at Tyler. You’d never seen them storm chasing before, but you could tell from the look on Boone’s face that Tyler wasn’t quite himself. 

“Tyler’s feeling a little out of sorts today,” Boone started. “Well, all month, actually. You need to get laid, Ty. Hell, I know it, you know it, even the tornado knows it.”

“Boone, are we live right now?” Tyler glanced at him.

“Yeah, we are, and the chat agrees,” Boone said, clearly looking at something on the screen. “Oh, hang on – I think we even have some volunteers!”

“Don’t say stuff like that. What if she’s watching?”

She? You’re suddenly intrigued. Who is this mysterious she that Tyler mentioned? He’d never mentioned anything about another woman to you – not like he would ever tell you, since he spent most of his time when he spoke to you just getting on your nerves. At least until the bar. But maybe things had changed. Maybe that’s why he’d been different. Because he had something serious with someone. 

Maybe he was no longer the storm chasing flirting hunk that he had been when you’d first met him. That’d explain why he’d stopped flirting with you and started ignoring you. Something uncomfortable settled in your stomach. 

Boone scoffed. “Ty, the day that girl watches one of our lives is gonna be the day that tornadoes miraculously decide to stop forming.” He looked at the screen. “Everyone’s asking who she is now, y’know?”

“Thank you so much for telling all–” Tyler paused to quickly glance at the screen himself, “all 284,000 people watching us right now about her.”

“You brought it up, man!” Boone replied defensively. “Hey, maybe this’ll give you more luck with the ladies and help you get over her. Guys, if anyone’s interested, we’re gonna be at–”

“Let’s focus on the tornado, Boone!” Tyler shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him before. But it did the job, bringing Boone’s focus back to the tornado in front of them as they drove closer to it.

Your mind was whirring as you watched them get closer. You were sure Tyler was right with what he’d said at the bar. Maybe you never really had been storm chasing, considering the fact that what you were watching was so different to the chase that Scott had taken you on. And Boone had said something about getting over her. Had Tyler been dating someone? Had it ended badly? 

As if on cue, your phone buzzed beside the computer, the screen lighting up with Scott’s name on it. You stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and hit answer. 

~~

“Man, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on,” Boone said, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and sitting down on the fold-up chair next to where Tyler was sitting comfortably with a beer of his own. “You’ve been in a bad mood for like a whole month. Even the chat is starting to notice when we’re live during a chase. It’s bad for business.”

Tyler sighed and took a long drink of his beer.

“It’s cause of that girl,” Dani offered from her spot in the doorway of the van. “You know, the one from that motel? Remember when we went to that bar– oh, wait, you wouldn’t remember cause you got drunk by 9 o’clock and Lily took you back to the motel.” 

Boone narrowed his eyes at her. “Yeah, I remember a bit, Dani.”

“Guys, come on,” Tyler attempted, breaking his silence. “It’s late, we’re all tired after the last couple weeks. Can we not just enjoy the quiet and relax?”

“No, man, we can’t,” Boone sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m invested now. What happened with that girl from the motel?”

Dani pointed a finger over to where the Storm Par cars were parked. A few of the members of that team were milling about, but most of them had headed upstairs already. “She’s dating Scott from the Storm Par team,” she explained. 

Tyler’s eyes narrowed in on Scott, who was pacing back and forward, holding his phone up to his ear. Was he talking to you? Listening to you, hearing your beautiful laughter on the other end of the line? On second thoughts, Tyler didn’t wanna know.

“Oh, wait – I do remember that! Didn’t he give her flowers?” Boone piped up, memories coming back from his very drunken night. Tyler was surprised he was able to remember the detail about the flowers considering how much he’d had to drink that night. 

“Yeah, he did,” Lily nodded, joining in the conversation. “And then Ty got so drunk he apparently ran out on her mid conversation so he could go and throw up in the toilet, and Dexter had to go and rescue him.” 

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows. “Mid conversation with her?” He looked between Dexter and Dani. “Was I talking to her when I was sick?”

Dexter nodded. “Yeah, we tried to stop you from going over there but it would’ve taken a tornado to hold you back from her, I think. You weren’t there for long before you made the dash to the bathroom though.”

“Yeah, but she seemed to be understanding when I talked to her about it,” Dani added.

Tyler frowned. He had no memory of that at all – what had he been talking to you about? He’d seen you from a distance the last time he’d been at your motel but he’d made a point not to speak to you because of Scott, trying to save himself the heartbreak, telling himself it was his own damn fault for liking a girl who never gave him even the slightest hint of reciprocation. He took another drink of his beer. Whatever you’d spoken about didn’t matter.

“Okay, enough about her. I’m sorry I’ve been in a bad mood, let’s just move on, all right?” Tyler raised his beer in the air. “How about a cheers to being 10,000 subscribers away from 600k?” 

~~

It didn’t take Tyler long to go back on his word about moving on. 

When they all stayed at your motel again, he had no idea that you’d been watching the livestream a few weeks ago, but what he did know was that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He’d learnt a lot over the past few weeks of storm chasing. Especially when he saw Scott from Storm Par parked on the side of the road, yelling at one of his team members.

That enough told Tyler that he had to win you over more than ever. He just hoped that in the past few weeks since he’d last spoken to you and since he’d seen you at the bar with Scott, things hadn’t gotten so serious between the two of you that he couldn’t stop it. 

Tyler knew that you deserved someone so much better than Scott. Even if that wasn’t him, he wasn’t going to let you end up with someone like that – a man that yelled at his coworkers the way he’d seen Scott yelling at his was not a good man.

He and the team had taken their bags upstairs to their rooms after your parents checked them in and Tyler had been heading back down to the truck to grab a few things they couldn’t carry before when he spotted you. You were walking into the entrance of the hotel from the street. 

Tyler quickly forgot about getting the things out of the truck and made a beeline to you. He could tell by the look on your face that you were surprised at seeing him. Probably because he’d ignored you last time he was here – something he regretted – and here he was, walking right up to you.

“Tyler,” you greeted him with a nod of his head and made an attempt to side-step around him, but he was quick enough to step in your way, making it so you couldn’t pass him. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Have you remembered I exist this visit?”

“Listen, about that–”

“Oh, you’re actually talking to me now?”

Tyler huffed. “Yeah, I am talking to you now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to win you over. Like I’ve been trying to do for the past six months.”

“Six months? Tyler, why are you so intent on winning me over?”

Tyler took a deep breath and then spoke. “Because I like you. I have ever since I first met you. And I cannot stand the idea of you being with someone like Scott, so if you’ll just listen to me for a second–”

“Scott?” You cut him off. “You don’t remember that conversation at the bar, do you?”

He paused. “Do you not remember how drunk I was?”

You laughed to yourself. “Well, yes. I do remember you being so drunk you had to run off to the bathroom, you were slurring all your words and you called Scott my boyfriend. I told you that he wasn’t. He still isn’t, and he never will be.” 

Scott had called you that day you were watching the livestream to tell you that he wasn’t sure he could put as much time into a relationship with you as he put into his job and chasing. It had been a weight off your chest – one you didn’t even realise you had there.

The look on Tyler’s face almost made you laugh again. He looked completely flabbergasted.   You reached up and gently patted his shoulder in slight pity before stepping around him and heading towards the office. Your parents had given you a break, which you’d used to go for a walk and stretch your legs, and they were likely awaiting your return.

Tyler stood in shock for a few moments, but it only took him a second longer to come to his senses. He turned around and called your name, making you turn back to face him. There was a look of amusement on your face. 

“Yes, Tyler?” 

“Go on a date with me,” Tyler said, the words accidentally being more of an order and less of a question. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean – will you go on a date with me?”

That was really not very gentlemanly of him at all. 

 “I thought you usually run away and chase tornadoes before it can get serious with girls.”

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. “Thought I’d change it up a bit and chase you instead.” He paused and then laughed. “Okay, that sounded way more creepy than I intended it to sound. Don’t take that too seriously, darlin’.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him and the sound of his laughter.  Despite the fact that you had spent the last few months doing nothing but tolerating Tyler Owens, you relented. What could it hurt, anyway? It wasn’t him flirting with you at a bar and running off before things got serious. Besides, you had a feeling you might have judged him a little too harshly based on his reputation at first. “Fine. One date.”

“How does tomorrow night sound?”

“You sure you can fit me into your tornado chasing schedule?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pass on a message to the tornados not to happen tomorrow night.”

When Tyler headed back upstairs later that night, he found Boone sitting in his room. He looked at him expectantly as Tyler closed the door behind him. “So, how did it go, man?”

Tyler found it impossible to keep the smile off of his face. “That Storm Par asshole is out of the picture, and I have a date scheduled for tomorrow night.”

~~

For the first time in a long time, Tyler Owens had forgotten to check the weather before leaving the motel. But somehow, it had worked out in his favour. His plans of a romantic sunset picnic were going perfectly. The sky was coloured in bright oranges and pinks. It was the perfect backdrop for your first date. 

Tyler opened up the picnic basket from its spot on the picnic blanket underneath you and passed you a sandwich. You were sat just to the right of him, your eyes fixed on the sunset. 

“Did my mother make this?” You asked, looking down at the sandwich.

He grinned. “I may have enlisted her help. Y’know, she told me that she prefers me to ‘that other boy she’s been seeing’. Says I have more of a country boy spirit to me, that the other one seemed too much like a city kid.” 

You snorted. “I mean, she’s not wrong there. When Scott took me chasing, he specifically made sure we stayed out of the hail and he was very proactive with making sure I always had my window wound up so no water got inside the car.”

If Tyler had been drinking, he was pretty certain he would have spat it all back out. “And you seriously went out with that asshole?” He shook his head. “You’ve seen the greener side of the grass now that you’re here with me, though, haven’t you?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Hmm, it’s not that much greener…”

Tyler gave you a look that made you laugh. 

“No, but seriously. Your storm chasing looks much more adventurous than Scott’s. A hell of a lot scarier, as well. You won’t catch me hanging out the side of your truck just to get a good video of it, that’s for sure,” you grinned. 

He looked at you for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve seen our videos?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a small bite of the sandwich finally. “I watched a little bit of one of your live streams a little while ago. Boone was hanging out the side of your car and was saying something about you needing to get laid.”

Tyler flushed. Oh, no. Out of all of the live streams you could have caught and you’d watched that one? The one where Boone had said tornadoes would be more likely to stop forming all together rather than you watching their videos? “Okay, I’m gonna need you to wipe that whole experience from your brain for me, okay darlin’?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, shaking your head at his pink tinged cheeks. He was embarrassed. At this point, you honestly weren’t sure that Tyler Owens even knew how to feel embarrassed. But apparently, he could.

“Only if you tell me one thing in return, cowboy.”

“Deal.”

“Why were you so intent on winning me over? And don’t say it’s just because you like me.”

Tyler sighed and leant back on his hands, staring up at the sky which had dulled a little in colour but was still beautiful. “Well, you know that when we first met each other, I liked you straight away. I was flirting with you from the get-go. I think at first it started out as a little bit of a challenge for me. I’m not really used to girls not liking me – and I know that sounds cocky as hell, and it is, but that’s just the truth,” he admitted. “But there was always just something about you that made me wanna get to know you better. And I don’t give up once I set my mind to something, which is why we’re sitting here right now.”

You honestly felt flattered by his words. Amused, too, about his admission that he wasn’t used to girls not being interested in him. But mostly flattered. 

“Now you tell me why you said yes to this date,” Tyler said.

There was no point lying or trying to come up with any other answer other than the truth. You also didn’t want to lie to him. He’d been completely honest with you. He deserved the same from you.

“When we first met, I really didn’t like you. I think I made that pretty clear. I wasn’t interested in being just another girl who got flirted with and then abandoned. But I think that night at the bar, the one you don’t remember, was what made me interested in you. It was the first time I’ve seen you completely honest. You weren’t just trying to flirt with me or mess with me. And then you ignored me the next time you saw me.”

“I said I’m sorry about that!”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I just think I said yes because I figured, what the hell? Things with Scott and I were never gonna work out, I was getting jealous over you mentioning your ex on a live stream. If that isn’t a sure sign I like you at least enough to say yes to a date, I don’t know what is.”

Tyler sat up straighter. “Mentioning my ex on a live stream?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Boone was talking about you getting over someone. You don’t remember? It was the same one where he hung out the window. I only watched the one.”

“Darlin’, that wasn’t about an ex.”

“No?”

“It was about me trying to get over you.”

You stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, completely unable to stop yourself. Tyler couldn’t help but laugh as well. The amount of miscommunication between the two of you simply because you didn’t communicate was ridiculous. 

Both of you had been so busy in your conversation and laughter that neither of you had realised that the sunset had disappeared, replaced with dark clouds. It wasn’t until rain started falling that you both stopped laughing and looked up to the sky.

“Shit, we need to get the stuff back to the truck!” Tyler was quick to jump up, scooping things back into the picnic basket while you grabbed the blanket and rolled it up in your arms. 

You both laughed as you ran back to the truck, luckily parked not far away, and shoved the basket and blanket on the back seat. But the rain had intensified so much in the short amount of time that you were both already soaked to the bone by the time you’d gotten to the car.

“We could really use some of those motel towels right now, huh?” You said.

Tyler looked at you and laughed again. There was no rush from either of you to get back into the truck as you stood side by side beside it, looking into each others eyes as the rain pummelled down. 

He couldn’t believe he was here right now with you. Standing in the rain, on a date. He’d forgotten to check the weather for the first time in a long time. But he’d known all along just how unpredictable the weather could be. Just like you could be. And just like he could be, too.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice loud enough to be heard against the sound of the rain and thunder that had just appeared overhead. 

He watched as your lips quirked up into a smile. “Yes,” you nodded in reply.

Tyler wasted no time in placing his hands on your waist and bringing his lips to yours. He’d never kissed anyone in the rain before, and while it was a memorable experience, it wasn’t entirely pleasant, especially due to the rain getting heavier and heavier by the second, but none of that bothered him because he was kissing you. Because it was your lips moving against his, your hands running through his hair, your body pressed up against his. 

When you broke apart for air, Tyler rested his forehead against yours.

“So, did I win you over?”

“Hmm,” you smiled. “Maybe if you bring me some towels…” 

Tyler let out a laugh and leant in to peck your lips again. “Comin’ right up, darlin’.”

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[jockbroski34]

AlterEgo

The last thing I expected on my 20th birthday was to receive a gift from Cody, my roommate.  We were never close, and there was no way in hell he actually knew much about me to know it was my birthday without me telling him.  Him and I were basically complete opposites.  While I was your typical nerd, smart, introverted, and so on, he was basically your typical jock in all the worst ways.  He was boisterous, arrogant, and a total meathead.  We mostly agreed to stay out of each others’ way, considering our irreconcilable differences, but that didn’t stop him from being a massive pain in the ass.  His room was constantly in a state of disarray, with sweaty clothes scattered all over the place.  As such, I often avoided being anywhere near his room if necessary since it smelled like a locker room.  He often invited over his “bros” who were just as bad.  Whether they were hogging the TV to watch whatever game was on, smuggling alcohol into our dorm to get wasted, or playing catch in the fucking living room, they were always a nuisance.  And whenever I brought any of that up to him, he would always end up saying something like “It’s not that serious, dude.  We were just having a good time.”  Yeah, a good time at my expense.  Whoever assigned the two of us to live together must’ve thought this was some twisted joke.

I woke up at 9 AM, still a little tired from last night.  I hung out at one of my friends’ dorms to celebrate my birthday.  I yawned, and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast.  I saw Cody was up as well, his legs spread across the couch, to the point that he was taking up two seats, watching something on the TV that was several volume levels too loud for me.

“Hey bro, today’s your birthday right?”  Cody asked, as he tilted his head to face me.

“Uhh, yeah.  How did you know?”  I responded.

“Oh don’t worry about it, bro.  Happy birthday!”  I saw him get up and run to his disorganized room, likely to grab something for me.  I could see a pair of worn gym shorts on the floor through the crack in the door.  He pulled out an old Nike shoe box, since he likely had nothing better to put a gift in.  “I’ve been saving this for you.  I hope you like it!”  Is this his way of trying to get on my good side?

I rolled my eyes since I doubt he got me anything I would enjoy.  He probably just got me something that he’d enjoy, like some tight-fitting tank top or protein powder or something.  Not that I work out or anything.  The only gift I’d want from him is for him to stop being a douche.  I opened the box and I was surprised about what I saw.  It was a video game.  Not any that I’d ever heard of.  I looked at the box art and the words AlterEgo were written in a wacky, colorful font.

“Yeah, I knew you like video games, so I found this for you.  I heard on the internet that it’s pretty nitch…nichy…what’s the word…”

“Niche?”  I responded.  I had to admit, him struggling to pronounce the word right was a little amusing.  As amusing as being with a simpleton like him could be.

“That’s the word!  I got it for myself, but I realized like half an hour in that it wasn’t my thing.  I’m happy with what I have right now.  I figured you’d probably get more out of it than me.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“No problem, dude.  Anyways, I gotta hit the gym.  I’m gonna be out all day so you have the PS5 all to yourself.  Hope you enjoy it bro!”

I watch him leave, thankful to have some peace and quiet.  As I ate breakfast, I read the back of the cover in order to figure out what this game was about.

“Become a new you!  In this life simulation adventure, you can become any kind of person you want and live any way you choose.  Control your fictional avatar, your AlterEgo, and level up your stats to become closer to your true self.”

The game seemed something like The Sims or Animal Crossing, but with some stat progression system.  It was a game that I had never heard of, but it could be some hidden gem.  The rest of the back was filled with screenshots from the game with the cartoony characters doing activities such as cooking, jogging, and riding a motorcycle.  I figured I might as well try the game since I did get it for free.  Even if it was from Cody, I wasn’t one to refuse someone’s generosity.

I put the game in the disk slot and booted it up.  The title screen had that same logo and some bubbly background music.  I pressed the start button and I was presented with a save selection screen.  I noticed that Cody’s save was on there, which was odd because I was playing on my account.  I knew I should’ve put a password on it.  I wanted to make my own character, but part of me was curious about the character that he made.  Knowing him, I can only guess.  His game time was less than an hour, as he was only on Day 1, and he likely spent most of that time on the character creation screen.

I started his save and my character was sitting in his room.  At this point, it was very bare, with only a bed and a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered around the room.  I guess the character starts by moving into their new home?  I went into the menu to find more information about the character.  The character was named Cody obviously and his AlterEgo somewhat matched him too.  I went into the stats screen and I was greeted by a tutorial.

“Here you can check your AlterEgo’s stats.  You have already set your initial growth modifiers and assigned your base stats.  If you need a refresher, whatever stats you chose your AlterEgo to excel at are highlighted in red and the ones you chose to trade off are highlighted in blue.  This means that your AlterEgo will grow in the stats in red much faster and prioritize activities that increase those stats and avoid activities associated with increasing your stats in blue.  As you play, your AlterEgo will naturally develop into one of hundreds of potential archetypes based on the activities that they excel at.  Experiment and see who you become!”

I looked at the stat screen and saw a list of stats with a bar indicating percentage level.  The stats included Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, Courage, Charisma, and Luck.  Not too far off from DnD I guess.  It seemed like he chose to have Strength and Constitution as his highest stats as their font was colored red and Intelligence and Wisdom as his weakest stats as they were colored in blue.  Gee, why am I not surprised…  Cody was anything but a genius.  It seemed like he had 20 initial points to allocate wherever he chose with a default limit of 5.  And I was equally not surprised to find that my meathead roommate chose to put 5 in Strength and Constitution again like a barbarian.  It’s like all he cared about was his looks and perceived masculinity, even in game.

Strength (physical strength): 5

Constitution (physical build and stamina): 5

Dexterity (agility and flexibility): 2

Intelligence (knowledge): 0

Wisdom (intuition and discipline): 0

Courage (risk-taking and bravery): 3

Charisma (social skills): 3

Luck (good or bad fortune): 2

After looking through his stats, I decided enough was enough and I didn’t really want to go around pretending I was Cody the whole game.  I quit out of his save and went back to the title screen.  I was back on the save select screen when I became confused.  There was still one save, except the name of the character wasn’t Cody…it was mine?  The play time was set to 0 minutes.  I don’t know how that happened, but if it saves me the trouble of building a character and reading more tutorials, I’m happy.

To my relief, the avatar representing Cody wasn’t there.  Instead, a very generic, average character stood in its place in the same room.  I wouldn’t be surprised if this was some placeholder account with everything set to the default.  Whatever, I can probably change stuff about him later.  I decided to move my AlterEgo outside and I was greeted by a map of a large city.  I chose an area of the map to explore at random and controlled my new avatar.  On the busy city street, there was a cafe, restaurant, and a gym.  It was too early for the cafe and restaurant to open, so I guess my only option here is the gym.  I’ve never stepped foot in a gym before, but this character doesn’t have to represent me as a whole.  Plus, I’d like my character to be well-rounded unlike Cody’s who would probably spend the whole time grinding here.

I went into the gym and had to perform a set of quick-time events.  First, I had to do some bench presses.  Then some squats.  Then finally, run on a treadmill.  At the end of it, my AlterEgo did a cartoony celebration and flexed his arms.  A pop-up showing that my Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity went up by 1, followed up by another one saying that my Strength and Constitution will double every time I do activities like go to the gym.  So it looks like Cody’s modifiers carried over after all despite everything seeming to be the default.  That should’ve been the first thing I checked.  I didn’t want my character to be specced to be some lumbering brute.  I suppose that if I wanted to get my character’s Intelligence and Wisdom, it’d probably be like playing on Hard mode.  Honestly, I was open to the challenge.

I was disappointed to find out that it’d be harder than it seemed.  When my character got home in the evening, I went into one of his boxes and I was presented with an option to read.  I was presented with several options, ranging from comics to full-on novels.  I chose the novel since I figured it would raise my Intelligence the best.  I watched my AlterEgo try to read the book, but I saw a look of confusion on his face.  Eventually, he grew frustrated and threw the book back into the empty box as if he were shooting through a basketball hoop.  I expected my Intelligence to stay the same, but no, it actually dropped!

“Sometimes when your AlterEgo fails to complete an activity, their stats can decrease!  These stats can even go into the negative.  Make sure to keep your stats high because it can become very difficult to increase your stats if they fall below a certain point.”

I couldn’t believe that my character struggled to even read.  This guy was nothing like me at all!  I hoped that it would be easier to raise my AlterEgo’s Intelligence because I didn’t want him to be a moron.  I watched my character fall asleep and I could see into his dream.  Another tutorial popped up.

“Sometimes your character will have dreams!  These dreams are mostly random, but will also depend on your character’s stats.  Just like other activities, you have a chance to increase your stats.”

I watched my character fight in a zombie apocalypse, but the zombies didn’t even look remotely threatening.  I succeeded in the activity and my Courage went up by 2 and my Luck and Strength went up by 1.  My character wiped his head of sweat as the zombies turned to dust.

The next day, I learned that my AlterEgo can go to school.  That was expected, considering my character’s age, only I didn’t realize how hard it would be for him.  He was sitting in a desk trying to write down notes.  Eventually, like an idiot, he slammed his thick head on his desk and started snoring.  This was honestly getting embarrassing.  My Intelligence and Wisdom dropped yet again, not by 1, but by 2.  If I didn’t do something different, my AlterEgo would basically be a clone of Cody instead of myself.  After class, instead of being given an option to go and do something, my AlterEgo is approached by a group of buff men.

Quarterback: Hey new guy, you’re looking pretty strong.  Judging from your Strength and Constitution, I think you’d make a good fit for the football team.  Your Dexterity and Courage also seem pretty good.  Wanna join, bro?

You know who else played football?  Cody.  I had to keep being reminded of him even when he wasn’t even around.  This was my character and I didn’t care about sports, so I clicked the no option.  To my surprise, my AlterEgo nodded instead.  It's like this game is going out of its way to spite me at this point.  Two tutorials popped up.

“If your Wisdom is too low, your AlterEgo might act on their own desires rather than your command.  This means that they can sometimes act on their own or select activities that they are more interested in rather than those they are not.  Raise your Wisdom or else you will have less freedom when developing your AlterEgo.”

“You have decided to join a club or organization.  This will grant you a passive growth to certain stats every week.”

I watched as my AlterEgo walked away with the group of jocks.  A football uniform magically appeared over his normal clothes.  For joining the football team, I was granted a point in Strength, Constitution, Courage, and Charisma every week, with the usual double for Strength and Constitution.

I kept playing the game, getting frustrated at my AlterEgo’s reluctance to even try to act smart or reasonable.  He frequently avoided or skipped intellectual pursuits to focus on those that made him look or feel good.  It honestly just felt random whether he wanted to obey me or not.  By the end of Day 7, the first week my stats were looking like this.

Strength: 30

Constitution: 28

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: -20

Wisdom: -15

Courage: 21

Charisma: 17

Luck: 16

My Intelligence and Wisdom seemed unfixable.  My AlterEgo wouldn’t even bother to try to read or pay attention at school and he consistently started to make random choices that satisfied his needs as the week progressed.  I grew incredibly frustrated at this, but out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was an end to this so I could go back and make my own character.  Either way, this game was plagued with questionable design choices.  It’s like the AlterEgo was already locked into a specific path.  I hoped that I had accidentally skipped a tutorial or something and that I hadn’t softlocked myself out of raising certain stats.  Unfortunately, my AlterEgo’s stats continued to grow and drop as I hit Day 30.

Strength: 75

Constitution: 69

Dexterity: 44

Intelligence: -66

Wisdom: -49

Courage: 54

Charisma: 37

Luck: 41

I received another tutorial message on Day 31.

“You look like you are on track to evolve into your archetype very soon!  By this point, your AlterEgo’s stats will be locked in place.  That will be the end of the main story, but there is still so much to enjoy afterwards!”

I figured I might as well see this through to the end.  You know, see how much of an idiot my character can become.  Despite my efforts, all my AlterEgo does now is work out, practice and go to games, and go to parties, outside of necessities.  His Intelligence is so low that he rarely even goes to school anymore and that has caused his intelligence to plummet to the bottom.  I played for even longer, eventually hitting Day 60.  Turns out that this is the day I would discover my AlterEgo’s archetype.

“Congratulations on making it this far.  I hope you are excited to find out your archetype, because I know I am!  Remember that these changes are permanent, so there will no longer be ways to increase or decrease your stats.”

I watched my AlterEgo marched onto the stage and I was able to view my final stats and a rating of each of them.  The descriptions seemed to be heavily based on my other stats, and trust me, they were very satirical, and in my case, very scathing.

Strength: 100

I’d give this an A+.  I’m not even sure if you are human anymore.  I’ve seen you lift things that no normal man could, not because you have to, but because you want to.  You spend more time at the gym than you do at your own house and you might give The Hulk a run for his money.

Constitution: 100

You also get an A+.  Your months of training at the gym have given you a perfect, chiseled body that looks like it could be made out of iron.  You have a seemingly endless supply of testosterone and your stamina (in more ways than one, it seems) cannot be beaten.

Dexterity: 75

This gets a B.  You are very athletic and quick on your feet despite your appearance.  However, your large size means that you can be pretty clumsy and you’ve probably broken more things than you’d like to admit.

Intelligence: -100

I’ll just go along with your teachers and give you a big fat F.  Are you even trying?  I worry that there’s not a single thought going around in your thick skull.  You care very little for anything intellectual or sophisticated, not that you even know what those words mean.

Wisdom: -90

Likewise, you also get another big fat F.  Were you dropped on your head when you were a baby or did you take too many tackles to your cranium?  You have incredibly poor judgment and you only make decisions that satisfy your brutish desires.  In short, you often act before you think.  Your lack of discipline is only matched by your lack of brain cells.  As long as you’re having fun, should I really care what you do with your life?

Courage: 90

I’d give this an A, but not an A+.  Because your brain moves too slow to process any risk, you often think before you act.  You often find yourself in the most dangerous of situations and you often perform incredibly stupid stunts.  When you’re on the field, you’re a risk taker, and at least it usually pays off.  On the bright side, you always come out unscathed, so I can commend that.

Charisma: 70

I’d give this a B-.  Being on the football team and being very attractive is going to place a lot of eyes on you, but they are all focused on your body because everything else you have to offer is very superficial.  I wonder if you surround yourself with people who think and act the same as you do or if people keep you around to laugh at every stupid word that comes out of your mouth.

Luck: 80

Lastly, you get a B.  Your luck genuinely amazes me sometimes.  Despite everything, despite your lack of any intellectual thought or reasoning, you have survived long enough to make it this far in life.  This alone proves that life favors some over others.  If there is room for the concept of a higher power in your shrunken headspace, then they probably feel a sense of amusement at the state of you bumbling around through life with only your good looks and muscles salvaging you.

“What do you think?  Are you happy with your results?  Anyhow, it’s time to reveal your archetype.  It’s who you are and who you will be from now on!  Drumroll please…  (As if it wasn’t obvious enough…)  You, my friend, are…THE JOCK!”

The Jock

You are likely an athlete or bodybuilder and you likely care little for intellectual thought.  You enjoy playing and watching sports and working out above anything else.  You are hyper-masculine, aggressive, arrogant, and egotistical.  However, you are also very muscular, tall, athletic, popular, and handsome.  You feel a deep sense of camaraderie with anyone you consider your bro, which mostly includes other jocks like yourself.  Your wardrobe mostly consists of tank tops, jerseys, varsity jackets, shorts, sweatpants, jockstraps, baseball caps, sneakers, and everything in between.  Because of your high testosterone and your above average genitals, you are viewed as a desirable partner and often partake in sexual activities with members of the opposite sex, and sometimes even other men depending on the person and situation.  Your most likely career path is as an athlete or coach, but as long as it doesn’t require too much deep thinking, you could probably find a job anywhere with your connections and attractiveness.  Enjoy your new self!

I watched my AlterEgo vanish within a cloud of smoke and come out a cartoonish representation of your average stereotypical jock with blonde hair and a very lunkish, yet admittedly impressive build.  He looked around, clearly disoriented, with a dull, confused look on his face before flexing with a cheesy, confident smirk on his face.  The audience cheered and clapped at this ridiculous personification of a walking stereotype as if they were watching a magic show.  Honestly, it was almost amusing how the description it gave for “me” couldn’t possibly be more wrong.  It sounded like everything Cody was, not me.  Although I guess I was playing with his settings, not by choice I will add, but I had little control over how my AlterEgo decided to live its life.  I just wish I could get him off my mind for just one day.  Either way, I found myself incredibly dissatisfied with my new AlterEgo, but I accidentally found out a way to make things even worse for me.  I just wanted to scroll through the remaining text to get to the credits, since I have been playing for 8 hours by now, when I saw a selection that would seal my fate.

“Are you satisfied with your result?  Now that you’ve discovered who you truly are, are you ready to be The Jock in the real world?  WARNING: If you select Yes, your save will be deleted as a result.  These changes are permanent.  If you click No, you can continue playing after the credits.”

I accidentally clicked Yes as I was mashing through the text.  What the hell was I thinking?!  I had no idea that this would change the entire trajectory of my life.  At first I felt nothing, as the screen faded to black.  Then, I saw the credits start to roll, playing a remix of the joyful title screen music, and that’s when I started to feel all warm inside and I felt a painful shock come from my controller.

I felt a sudden wave of pain rush through my body as my bones started to crack and shift in my body and my muscles began to inflate like balloons.  I looked at the credits and noticed that the new jock AlterEgo was doing the things he normally enjoyed doing in the background.  But I couldn’t really concentrate on it as I found myself focusing down below.  My legs stretched and stretched until I was around 6’4.  My feet grew to a size 15 and my thick glutes and ass made me sink deeper into the couch from their weight.  The fat in my stomach felt like it was melting as it left behind nothing more than a layer of sweat and a firm six pack of abs.  My upper chest formed into a round set of bouncy pecs.  Likewise, my biceps and triceps were almost the size of my head now and my soft hands became rough and covered in calluses from intense lifting.  I felt my clothes cling tightly to my body as if they were two sizes too small, and they’d easily rip if my body grew any more.  My shirt fit more like a crop top on me and my clothes were damp from pit and ass sweat.

I felt my long hair recede into my head until it formed into a shorter cut that was much easier to maintain.  As it did that, my chestnut-colored locks lightened into a golden blonde.  My soft, round eyes became more sharp and masculine and I could feel them turn from a chocolate brown into an icy shade of blue.  My youthful face lost most of its baby fat and buried beneath it was nothing more than the chiseled edges of my jawline.  The lower half of my face, which used to be soft and hairless, was now covered in a prickly lawn of stubble.  Even my pasty skin turned a shade tanner from the years I spent in the sun throwing balls around.  I noticed that my entire body started to sweat profusely to the point that I could smell my own musk and I became absorbed by my new-found masculine scent.  I could smell the testosterone that was pumping through my veins like a drug.  I felt powerful, dominant, virile, and dare I say it, good…  Lastly, I found my lips contort into an obnoxious, conceited smirk.  Was I…enjoying this?  Judging from the growing feeling in my groin, I was led to believe that I was.  And it kept growing and growing and growing…

All the while, the credits continued to play and the happy-go-lucky music felt like it was mocking my painful situation.  Despite the strange pleasure I felt, it was only a distraction as my body still writhed in pain through the whole process while I changed entirely into a real life manifestation of my AlterEgo.  What the hell is this game?  I noticed that the jock avatar stared directly towards the screen, as if he was breaking the fourth wall, and started to walk closer and closer before vanishing from his virtual prison for good.  The lively credits started to simmer down, giving the screen a more empty and disquieting feeling.  That was the last thing I noticed before I felt a sharp headache ring through my head.  I am usually fine playing games for a long period of time so why…Why did my roommate buy me this game anyways, bro?  If he was gonna buy me any game, he should’ve gotten me the new CoD or Madden game, not this weird shit.  I had to admit, it was kinda addicting.  I liked being able to work out or play sports even when I’m at home.  Wait, what was that?  I felt like I just heard another voice in my head, both sounding similar yet different to my own.  Eventually he called out directly to me.

“Hey bro, it’s me.  Your AlterEgo.  You know, the real you.  It’s been fun, dude.  Now I get to enter the real world, isn’t that sick?  So here’s what’s gonna happen, dude.  I am currently inside your mind and I’m making the final changes to turn you into the person you were always meant to be.  That’s right dude, we are becoming one singular person in both body and mind.  Don’t try to struggle or fight back.  You know I’m stronger than you.  There’s no going back.  So, are you ready to become one with your true self?

No…I thought to myself.  I wasn’t a jock.  I was never a jock.  I’m nothing like my AlterEgo.  This is a mistake.  This was Cody’s AlterEgo, not mine!

“Chill out, bro.  I know you read the warning and you clicked Yes, so you obviously knew the risk.  Why did you keep playing if you knew you’d become a jock regardless of the decisions you made?  Because you are one deep down.  Or maybe you secretly wanted to be one.  Maybe you wanted to see what life was like on the other side.  Maybe this Cody guy wanted you to try out this save, you know, to see what would happen...  Whatever reasoning, it really doesn’t matter dude.  I know you can feel me taking over your mind.  You’re finding it harder to think.  Soon you’ll be The Jock, me.  I just wish you realized a little sooner who you really were…”

I felt my brain starting to shut off and my vision starting to become blurry as my AlterEgo took it over.  I don’t even know how any of this is possible, even by today’s standards.  An AI buried deep within the game was taking over my body and mind entirely, reshaping me in his image.  But I continued to resist, to cling onto whatever parts of my personality I could.  However, as I felt my mind sink deeper and deeper into this mental void, I felt myself slowly becoming more and more like The Jock.  The archetype that was decided on, not by me, but for me.  Until that’s all I was.

Everything turned black for a few seconds.  I slowly regained consciousness as my brain rebooted itself.  Wait…what’s a reboot?  I sat and watched the credits with a dim look on my face as it finally ended.  I was booted back to the title screen and saw that my save was indeed deleted.  This was proof that my AlterEgo was now a part of me and that he was finally whole.  I pulled out my phone wanting to learn more about this game, because, dude, it was kinda fucking weird. By scrolling, I couldn’t find much, but I did discover a post from not too long ago on some ancient forum site that was probably made in the early 2000s.

“Is The Game AlterEgo Real?”

“I’ve heard rumors about this game called AlterEgo, but I have very little information on it.  It’s said to be incredibly dangerous and could lead to permanent bodily and mental changes.  Throughout all of my research, I could not find any copy of the game for sale, nor any definitive proof that it’s real or any information on the company that developed it.  If you have any information on this game, please let me know.”

I skimmed through the forum page, not that interested in reading what everyone had to say.  Who has time for that anyways?  But I did find one reply that caught my eye.

“I can confirm with certainty that AlterEgo does exist.  My friend received it as a gift for Christmas and he wouldn’t stop talking about it to me.  It’s like he was addicted.  A week later, when I saw him next, I could barely even recognize him.  His body had grown and changed greatly and he didn’t act like his usual self.  I even feel like his memories might be a little distorted.  I tried checking his house to find the game in order to figure out what it was all about, but I don’t think he has it anymore.  He probably sold it or gave it away since he said he finished it.  No matter what, he won’t tell me.  If there are any other copies of the game left, please let me know.”

Woah, so this game is fucking weird, dude.  Wasn’t just me.  I just played it right?  But I don’t feel any different.  You know, I bet these nerds would pay a lot for a chance to find out about this game.  Maybe they might come out as different people.  I’ll put it up on eBay for a high price.  One of those dweebs just has to take the bait.  I wouldn’t mind a little cash though.  I’d feel bad for selling Cody’s gift, but just imagine what I could get with that much money.

“Hey bro, you still in here dude?”  I heard a familiar voice shout as they opened the door.

“Yo Cody, there you are.  What’s up dude?”  I was happy to see him.  Cody was my roommate and my best friend.  We were practically inseparable.  When he made eye contact with me, his eyes widened.  I couldn’t really blame him for being impressed with my awesome body.

“You beat that game I gave you already?”  He seemed surprised, yet almost impressed.

“Yeah, it’s not usually my type, but I enjoyed it dude.”

“Do you…feel any different, bro?”  Cody sounded kinda hesitant there.  Had he read about the rumors too?  I don’t see why he’d have to worry.  None of those rumors are true anyways.

“Nah, same as I’ve always been.”

“Alright, good.  I was just making sure you were down to get some food.  You should be out partying and celebrating your birthday, not playing some nerdy video game.  And trust me, I know all the good spots.”

“You’re right bro.  I haven’t gotten enough exercise in today.  Let’s go.”

“Wait, before you go, your clothes are so sweaty dude.  You should change.”

“Oh shit, good idea.”

“Y-you can just wear one of my clothes.  They’d probably fit you better.”  He was right.  As I soon realized, someone shrunk all my clothes as part of a prank.

Me and Cody went to a sports bar to watch the game.  If I remember correctly, this was our favorite spot to get food, except you know, anywhere that lets me hit my macros.  Since it was my birthday, he even paid for the whole meal.  I don’t remember how long I’ve known him, but couldn’t ask for a better bro.  On the way home, Cody grabbed a six pack of beer from the frat house and brought it to our dorm to drink the night away.  I wasn’t old enough to drink, but it’s not like I never had alcohol before.  And besides, today was basically my cheat day.

We got wasted while we watched TV, and we did some things that I probably wouldn’t admit to anyone but him.  I couldn’t help it though.  I hadn’t gotten laid all weekend and it was my birthday.  Quite frankly, I deserved it.  Thankfully Cody took one for the team.  He said it wasn’t weird because we’ve definitely done it before and that it was our secret.  I had to give him credit.  His tight hole is better than most girls’.  I didn’t know he was a bottom until tonight.  I also didn’t remember having a dick this big, but you don’t see me complaining.  After all was said and done, I passed out drunk next to him in his bed, our bodies drenched in sweat and each other’s fluids, as I enjoyed the bromance I have with my best bro.  This was the best birthday ever.

The next day, I got up extra early to go for a run despite my hangover.  Afterwards I went to school, but like usual, I struggled to pay attention.  It was like my mind was in a constant fog.  My grades are slipping and this football scholarship is the only thing keeping me from dropping out entirely.  After classes, I joined Cody and the others at practice.  Throughout the day, I kept getting this feeling of uh…dayjah voo?  That word that means that you feel like you’ve done something before.  I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from.  I shrugged it off.  I was just a jock and I didn’t need to worry about stuff like that.

When I got home, I got an offer for the game Cody gave me.  You know, AlterEgo.  Some nerd seriously offered $1000 for it.  I didn’t actually know it was that rare.  I hope he enjoys it more than I did.  I’ll sure enjoy the 1000 dollars.  I bet he’ll love passing it around to all his other geeky friends.  I wonder what their AlterEgos might look like…

[girlgenius1111]

healing

alexia putellas x reader you don't like to admit when something is wrong, alexia knows this. she also knows that with a a scheduled surgery coming up for you, she'd have to wade through these hidden emotions as best she could to support you. basically, r has a breast reduction surgery, and alexia does her best to take care of her, even when r is a bit resistant. this is, obviously, very self indulgent. potentially the most self indulgent fic i've ever written. it's very reflective of my experiences recently so. you know. i hope you enjoy. hugeeeeee thanks to @pickledwoso who sent the request in and gave me sooo many ideas to work with.

------

You sat up with a loud gasp, clutching at your chest. The specifics of the nightmare evaded you instantly, but you knew it had been horrifying. Filled with needles and doctors and knives and pain. 

“Amor?” Alexia mumbled groggily, emerging from where she was curled up under the covers, despite it being a warm evening.  She had barely been dragged from sleep by the sound you had made, only one eye cracking open to look at you.“You okay?” 

Unable to say much in response, you could only whimper quietly and shake your head. Alexia was wide awake in a second, sitting up and tilting your face towards her.

 “Ale-” You cut yourself off with a sob, leaning forward to bury your face in your girlfriend’s soft sleep shirt. 

Shaking once more, Alexia pulled you into her, cradling your body close. “What is wrong, mi amor?” 

“I-I… nightmare. I had a nightmare.” You admitted, too far gone into panic to try to hide your anxiety from your girlfriend. Alexia didn’t say much for a while, just nodding her head to show that she’d heard you, before she got to work calming you down. She did it rather easily, reminding you to breathe, stroking her fingers through your hair. She was soft, gentle, loving, and her affection bled through every light touch. Alexia always cared for you so easily; she made it seem simple. 

“Easy, just like that amor. In and out, slowly. It was just a dream, you’re right here with me. You’re okay.” 

It took a few minutes for you to calm down, and even still, you were still practically vibrating with anxiety. Alexia shifted over so that you were curled against her chest, and she could lean back against the headboard. With your face barely visible buried into her shirt, your girlfriend couldn’t really tell if you were still crying or not. Breathing steadier, for sure, but the sniffles coming from you every so often told Alexia that you were still very upset. 

The blonde began to run her fingers through your hair, massaging gently at your scalp. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You were quiet for so long, she was sure you’d fallen back asleep. “I don’t remember what happened. It was about the surgery I think.” You murmured finally. “I’m a little nervous, I guess.” 

Alexia repressed a sigh. It was beyond clear to her, and had been for weeks, that you were more than mildly anxious about your scheduled breast reduction. She’d been waiting, less and less patiently, for you to just tell her how scared you were, but now the night before your surgery, she knew she couldn’t let this go on any longer. 

Wrapping both her arms tight around you, she pulled you even closer before she spoke. “It seems like you are maybe more than a little nervous, hmm?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You seem completely terrified, mi amor.”

“I am nervous, but I know I want to do this. I’m sure, Ale, I’ve made my mind up, and I-”

“You can still be nervous, even if you feel confident in your decision. That’s okay, amor. Why would you think it’s not?” 

“I… I just didn’t want you to try to change my mind.” 

“Why would I do that?” She sounded confused, and logically, you knew why. Ale was a deeply respectful person, and she’d never ever presume to tell you what to do with your body. Ever.

 No reply came, and Alexia realized you’d begun to tremble again. Frowning, she gently guided your chin up so she could look into your eyes, less than content with the anxiety so clear on your face. “Amor, talk to me. Please.” 

“What if you don’t like them? You know… after?” 

Alexia could have laughed at the completely ridiculous notion, but she saw the wet shine in your eye that told her you were completely serious. “Do not be silly. I will love them. ” She insisted. 

“You love them now.” You argued. “They won’t be the same.” 

Carefully, Alexia took your face in between her hands, insistently gazing down at you. “I know. They’ll be different. They won’t hurt you so much anymore, and that is all I want. Nothing will make me happier than you feeling better. I will love them, just like I love you.” She promised, her voice low and soothing. “You could get them removed completely, you could do anything, and it wouldn’t change how I feel about you. This is your body, mi amor. I love your body, and I will love it even when it changes.” 

“But… it doesn’t have to change.” Chewing on your lip, you took in your girlfriend’s completely puzzled expression. 

“I don’t understand. It doesn’t have to change, but you want it to, no?”

“I… don’t you think I’m being dramatic about this? A whole surgery just for some back pain…” Your words were not things you really believed. You knew you weren’t being dramatic, and you knew you were getting this done because of more than just back pain, although if you had, that would have been okay too. You’d just spent the last years hearing from your family and your doctors that you were being dramatic about your pain and the issues that came with having an absurdly large chest. Even getting a surgeon to agree to do the surgery was difficult, though you wouldn’t have even gotten there at all without Alexia. 

Not until you were with her, did you find yourself being believed. When you said you were hurting, she believed you. She wasn’t skeptical that you were exaggerating, or just looking for attention. It was this earnest belief that had you reconsidering, and ultimately deciding on, a breast reduction. Now, though, the years that people had spent belittling you and your struggles were rushing back to you, and you very suddenly felt like you were being ridiculous. 

The lights flickered on in the bedroom, and Alexia rolled back over to you. Having been lost in your thoughts, you’d missed her roll away to turn the bedside lamp on, and now she was studying you with a focused look on her face; one you knew to mean she was concerned. 

Her hand found yours, and she absentmindedly pulled the shoulder of your shirt back up as she spoke. “It is not a little back pain. It is debilitating. This affects your whole life, amor, you’ve wanted this for years. You know you aren’t being dramatic. Where is this coming from, hmm?” 

There was a deep reluctance in you to tell Alexia what you’d been through in the past with doctors and your family alike. You weren’t sure where it came from, or why it was so persistent, but you were too exhausted to fight it. Too terrified to even think of doing something that would make your anxiety spike. 

Your girlfriend seemed to sense this reluctance, because she brought your intertwined hands to her lips, leaving a kiss on your knuckles. A part of you had expected her to be annoyed for not talking, but another part of you knew better. Alexia didn’t get mad about stuff like that. All she had for you now was a sweet smile, and another kiss for your cheek that had you blushing unnecessarily. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” She promised, mumbling the words against your face as she interspersed kisses in between her words. “You are not being dramatic. Your body changing does not bother me, could never bother me. I love you, and everything is going to be okay.” 

Entire body seemingly deflating, you leaned heavily into your girlfriend, torn between exhaustion, anxiety, and the overwhelming feeling of being adored. It wasn’t one were sure you’d ever get used to. With your face tucked into Alexia’s chest, it was hard to feel anything but safe and reassured, so you focused on the soft fabric of her shirt against your cheek, instead of what would be occurring the following morning. 

“I love you.” You murmured, burrowing in closer when your girlfriend tightened her arms around you. “Ale?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you come with me tomorrow? And stay?” You hated the vulnerability seeping from your words, didn’t want Alexia to ever see you as pathetically as you saw yourself. 

She only nodded, though, rubbing your back slowly. “Of course, cariño.” 

“It’s not too late to get out of training?” 

Alexia gave you a soft smile, though slightly embarrassed, rubbing her thumb across your cheek affectionately. “I am already called out, mi amor. I was going to stay anyway.”

“You were?” You asked with a shy grin. 

Alexia nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I thought you might change your mind, and if you didn’t, well… I would have just pretended to go to training. I want to be there for you, and I would not be able to focus anyway.” 

You were overcome, for a moment, with affection for your girlfriend. She always seemed to anticipate what you’d need even before you knew herself. There was something about not only being loved, but known by Alexia that made you feel like the most special person in the world. You felt it even more when she placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips, and smiled at you just enough that the dimples on her cheeks appeared. 

“I am so lucky to have you.” You murmured, feeling emotion tug at you once again. 

Alexia shook her head with a grin, almost exasperated. “It always amazes me that you think you are the lucky one, when it is me. Because you are perfect and beautiful and I love you.” 

Before you could reply, and begin a back and forth of who was luckier, Alexia had pulled you to lay down practically on top of her, stretching her long arm to turn the bedside lamp off. 

“You need to rest, amor.” She insisted. And though when you’d woken from the nightmare, you had been sure you wouldn’t be sleeping any more tonight, there was something so soothing about being held so securely against your girlfriend. Your eyes began to shut of their own accord when she began to run her fingers through your hair, and you wondered briefly if there was anything Alexia couldn’t do.

------

The following morning came much too quickly. The first alarm went off at 6, only rousing you. Knowing you still had 15 minutes before you had to get up and get ready, you curled yourself back into Alexia’s side, shutting your eyes tightly and pretending that today was no different than any other day. Of course, the persistent anxious shaking of your body woke your girlfriend, though, an alarm in and of itself. 

It took her a second to realize what had woken her, as she couldn’t hear the alarm going off. Soon, though, she processed the way you were clinging to her, feeling her heart simultaneously melt and break.

“Oh, mi amor.” Alexia sighed, sliding her hand up the back of your shirt and splaying it across your spine, knowing you liked to feel her skin on yours. 

“Sorry I woke you early.” You whispered. 

“Don’t be sorry. I am always happy for 15 extra minutes to lay with you.” She said sweetly, tucking her face into your hair and sighing contentedly. She knew that if she kept herself calm, and didn’t react to your anxiety with her own, you’d be able to stay calmer. 

It felt like only minutes later that your second alarm was going off, and you groaned into your girlfriend’s chest as it did. Extracting herself from your rather tenacious grip, Alexia quickly rose from the bed and walked around to your side, grabbing your hand before you could bury yourself under the covers. 

“No hiding, amor. Time to be brave for me, sí?” 

Not one to deny any of your girlfriend’s requests, you let her tug you from the bed with a pout, one she very determinedly kissed off your face. Once she was done with that, she pulled you into the bathroom. 

“Okay. Shower quickly, I will eat something, and then we leave at 7:03.” She said, as if that was a normal time to plan to leave. You were long used to Alexia’s strict punctuality, though, so you just shook your head fondly at her. It was only when she attempted to pull away from you that your anxiety really rose, and you clung onto her hand with a look of panic on your face. 

Alexia turned back to you, expression completely open, as if she was ready to do whatever you needed her to do to feel better. 

“Shower with me?” You asked shakily, looking up at your girlfriend with wide eyes. 

“Siempre, guapa.” 

Your movements were practically robotic as you undressed yourself and allowed Alexia to guide you into the shower. For a moment, you allowed yourself to just rest against her under the warm stream of water, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly. As always when you showered together, Alexia insisted on washing you herself. Somehow, she knew that you needed to use the special medical soap on your chest, but could use your regular body wash everywhere else. 

You thought you caught a glimpse of sadness as she gently washed over your chest, and she must have felt you stiffen under her hands, because she was tilting your chin up and looking down at you, forehead crinkled in concern. 

“Are you sure you won’t hate what I look like after?” You asked, voice wobbling. 

Your girlfriend’s face softened. “I am sure. I will love you all the same.”

“You won’t miss them?” 

“Oh I will miss them. I should say farewell, no? Goodbye,” Alexia said wistfully, cupping each of your breasts in her hands. “I will miss you, but I will be happy when you stop bothering my pretty girlfriend.” 

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes, flushing at the attention on your chest, but feeling your heart soar at how genuinely she seemed to mean what she was saying. You appreciated her honesty. It wouldn’t have been believable that she wouldn’t miss them at all; the blonde had made it very clear in your time together that she very much enjoyed them. But for Alexia, she’d happily give that up if it meant that you were happier and more comfortable. And then felt like another level of love she must have for you. 

 Alexia leaned down to kiss you again, this time a bit more intensely as the water rained down over your heads. 

She broke away after a minute, a satisfied smile on her face telling you she was pleased that she had successfully distracted you. And distracted, you were. 

“Do we have time to-”

“No.” Alexia said sternly. “That is why we made sure to have enough time last night. We will not be late because you are horny even after I made you co-”

“OKAY. I don’t want a reminder if I can’t really enjoy the reminder.” You argued, barely noticing how Alexia turned the shower off and wrapped you in a towel. She really was doing a good job distracting you, because the mere step forward in your morning routine didn’t make you nauseous like it normally would have. 

The rest of the morning, Alexia went out of her way to keep you distracted. Whether it was giving herself a beard with bubbles in the shower, or forcing you to have an impromptu dance party in the kitchen while she ate a quick breakfast, your girlfriend gave you very little time for your mind to wander. Once you were in the car, though, it was inevitable. You were on the way, and there was nothing else to think about. 

Alexia kept her hand on you throughout the ride, noticing as you grew quieter as she pulled out of the drive, and brushed a few tears away when you thought she wasn’t looking. 

“Alright, mi amor?” She checked, well aware that you were not even close to alright.

“I’m so scared.” You whispered, Alexia just barely hearing your voice over the hum of the car engine. She moved her hand from your bouncing knee to grab onto your hand, squeezing it three times. 

“I know. Everything is going to be okay, amor. They do this every day, you will be in such good hands.” 

“What if I wake up in the middle?”

“You will not.” She sounded so sure. 

“What if I don’t wake up at all?

“You will wake up.” Again, her voice was filled with confidence. Whether it was truly what she believed, or if she was just saying it for your sake, you didn’t know, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

“What if something goes wrong and I come out with three boobs or something?” 

“I will buy a sewing machine, and get to work making bras for three boobs.” Alexia said seriously. 

You gave a wet laugh, wiping at your eyes. Alexia smiled at you happily, fixing her eyes back on the road as the light turned green. Her hand didn’t leave yours the rest of the way to the hospital. 

------

Without Alexia there with you, it was likely that you would have bolted out the front doors of the hospital within a few minutes of arriving. You weren’t alone, though, and Alexia began to resort to absolutely ridiculous tactics to distract you and see a smile on your face. 

First, she blew up a glove she found in the room you were brought to wait in and then let it fly all around. It wasn’t really funny but the way she released it, and then looked at you with a hopeful grin on her face made you laugh anyway. If you counted correctly she made six bad jokes when they made you take a pregnancy test, that had you giggling even though they were quite juvenile. As the nurse put your IV in, the blonde reminded you of the time she got stitches in her leg on the sidelines of the football pitch, in the middle of the game, going so far as to point out the scar on her shin that you’d seen many times before. This wasn’t really funny either, but the somewhat disturbed look on the nurse’s face was. 

She was goofy when you needed her to be, she was serious and listened carefully whenever anyone was telling her important information, and she didn’t let go of your hand for the entirety of the pre op process. The minute your heart began to pound in your chest, or tears began to well in your eyes, you’d feel her squeeze your hand, and feel inexplicably comforted. Realistically, you knew Alexia had no ability to keep you safe once you were in the operating room. Still, you had the overwhelming feeling that because she was here with you, nothing bad could happen. 

“Okay, it’s time.” The nurse said kindly, walking into the room just moments after the surgeon had left. He had drawn all over you while answering Alexia’s seemingly endless questions about your recovery. 

You looked at the blonde next to you, willing yourself to remain calm, breathe deeply. She leaned in, kissing you softly. Once on the lips, then once on each cheek. 

“I love you. You are going to do so well, mi amor. I will be right here when you wake up.” She promised, helping you to your feet and squeezing your hand one last time. “Brave for me, okay?” the last part was whispered just for you to hear, and you nodded.

You could be brave for her. For her, you could do anything. 

“I love you, Ale.” 

She smiled at you until you disappeared out of sight, finally allowing the anxiety she’d been repressing all morning to let itself be known. It was going to be a long three hours, and she’d known that. She was absolutely resolved not to let you see her own nerves, knowing they’d only make you feel worse. Already calling her Mami as she was led to the waiting room, she hoped she did a good job at making you feel more comfortable. And she hoped, more than anything, that you’d be okay. 

-------

It felt nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. They opened and closed of their own accord, the room a bit different every time. Very vaguely, you recognized the surgeon coming to talk to you, saying something about everything going well. A nurse asked you about pain, and you focused enough to notice a slight twinge on your chest. 

The only coherent thought you had, though, was of your girlfriend. She said she’d be here when you woke up, and the beautiful blonde was nowhere in sight. 

“Would you like a sip of water?” The nurse asked kindly, holding a straw up to your mouth. You shook your head, though, frowning dramatically. 

“Alexia.” You murmured, eyes falling shut once again. The nurse chuckled, replying even though she wasn’t sure you were hearing her. The heart monitor attached to you was making a rhythmic beeping sound, and you were bobbing your head along to it gently, though you didn’t seem aware of it.  

“We’ll bring you out of recovery in a few minutes, and then you can see her.” 

Sure enough, you felt the strange sensation that you were moving, before you opened your eyes once again. Now in a different room, there was a smiling face next to yours, a gentle touch on your cheek. 

“Ale.” You sighed happily, eyes half shut, but a big smile adorning your features. 

“Hi, bonita.” Alexia chuckled. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm.” You hummed. “Sleepy.” 

Alexia thought you looked incredibly adorable, all groggy and happy to see her. Clumsily, you reached for her hand, pulling it to cup your cheek. Your girlfriend laughed lightly, stroking her thumb over your cheek bone. 

“Are you in any pain?” 

“I loveeeeeee you.” You sang, clumsily patting her face with your free hand. 

Alexia laughed again, her features soft as she gazed down at you. “I love you too, cariño. Can you tell me if anything hurts?” 

“Nothin’ hurts.” You slurred. “Are my boobs small?” 

“Sí, look. The buttons on your shirt aren’t pulling apart anymore.” 

You’d bought several cotton button up pajama shirts especially for the occasion, having been told not to lift your arms above your head to put a shirt on. As always occurred with button ups, though, the buttons pulled tightly across your chest. Or, they had. Now, the shirt sat unstretched across your chest, and you felt a staggering amount of joy course through you. 

“Oh.” You said weakly, blinking hard as your eyes filled with tears. 

Alexia’s face fell. “What? Does something hurt? What’s wrong?” She asked frantically, looking around for something to stop the pain you weren’t actually feeling. 

“No, no. It’s good, it’s happy. They’re small and my shirt fits. Shirts like this never fit right and now they do.” You cried, too out of it to really feel embarrassed for crying so hard over such a small thing. 

“Oh, amor.” Alexia whispered, feeling like crying herself. She knew more than anyone how much you struggled with the way you’d looked before. She’d genuinely never seen you look so happy over your appearance before, and it was her new favorite thing. “I’m so happy you’re happy.” 

“I’m happy.” You mumbled, allowing Alexia to dry your face of tears. Carefully, Alexia brought the water to your lips again, and this time you drank some, feeling more and more awake with every passing second. And even though she was pretty sure you wouldn't remember this later, Alexia had to make sure you knew something. 

“You know what, amor?” She asked. 

“What?”

“You are beautiful. Even more beautiful now, with such a happy smile on your face.” 

It didn’t matter that you’d just cried, or that your hair was a mess. It didn’t matter that you were decidedly not beautiful at the moment. Because Alexia thought you were, and that made you think it, too. More than ever before, you felt beautiful like she said you were. 

------ 

The first two days went pretty smoothly. Everything ached a bit too much for you to really do anything on your own, and Alexia was more than happy to help. The trouble came after you were given clearance to shower, on the third day of your recovery. You wanted to do it by yourself, and Alexia was insisting on helping you. 

“No, Ale.” You snapped, trying to sit up and get out of bed on your own. Alexia wouldn’t move, though, still perched next to your legs, arms resting on either side of you, and honestly, you needed her help to get upright. 

She was being overly patient with you, and that only bothered you more; you didn’t like to be treated like you were fragile. “Amor, it says in the instructions, ‘have someone nearby to help for the first few showers.’’” 

“Nearby. Not in the bathroom with me. I’ll be fine, please just let me do this myself.” 

“It is not safe, I would like to be in there with you. I don’t understand, you have never had a problem with showering me before.” Alexia’s hazel eyes squinted at you, as though she was trying to visually ascertain what the issue was. 

“It’s different.” You grumbled, feeling your stomach twist at the idea of your girlfriend having to do another thing for you. Enough was enough, you had to be independent. If you couldn’t shower on your own, you’d feel completely helpless and you hated to feel helpless. 

“How is it different?” Alexia wondered, her patience with you still unwavering. 

“It just is! Move so I can get up, please.” 

The blonde just shook her head. “Not until you tell me how it’s different.”

“Alexia, I am disgusting right now, I’m gonna be all bruised and swollen and I haven’t showered in two days. It’s gross, I’m gross.”

She didn’t even blink, as though she’d already known this. “I don’t care about that, cariño. I just want to make this easier for you. Please let me help.”

“I don’t need help.” 

“You do, and that’s okay. Please, amor, just let me come into the bathroom with you. I’ll sit on the counter if you want me to, but let me be in the room. Please.”

Your girlfriend had a way of asking you things and making her eyes wide as she did so, making you agree without really thinking. It was genuinely difficult to say no to someone so pretty, who very clearly just wanted the best for you. This was how you found yourself in the bathroom, allowing Alexia to carefully unbutton your shirt and remove the bra from your chest. 

You’d tried to do it yourself at first, but it was ridiculously difficult to get your arms to do what you wanted them to do without pressing against your chest or your sides, and your yelp of pain had Alexia firmly telling you that she was helping you, and that was that. 

You waited for her face to turn disgusted, or at least for her eyes to give her away. It didn’t happen. She looked pained at the sight of the bruising on your body, but that was sympathetic. The kiss she gave you filled your body with warmth, but that warmth disappeared as soon as Alexia stepped away to turn on the shower, and you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. 

It was the first time you were really seeing your reflection, seeing the full results of what had been done, and you were more than a little horrified. 

When Alexia turned back around to help you into the shower, you had turned several shades paler, and your legs were shaking. Eyes fixed on your chest in the mirror, you looked completely disgusted with what you saw reflecting back at you. 

 Worried that you would pass out or something, Alexia stepped in behind you, carefully placing her large hands on your upper arms to hold you steady. “Amor? Feeling okay?”

“Dizzy.” You managed, leaning back into her. Alexia grabbed the water she’d had the foresight to bring into the bathroom, and carefully urged you to take a few sips. She knew how you were with stuff like this, ever since you’d passed out once watching her get stitches after a nasty tackle. 

“Just breathe. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Don’t look if it’s bothering you.” 

“I-I… please don’t look, either, Ale.” You requested, shutting your eyes tightly. Alexia only hummed in response, resting her chin on your shoulder and rubbing her hands up and down your arms. “It’s awful, it’s so gross.” 

The bruising and the sight of the incisions through the tape over them was enough to make you nauseous, but Alexia being there only made it worse. She shouldn’t have to see you like this. 

She seemed unphased, though, her eyes on your face in the mirror, not distracted by your chest. “It looks exactly as the doctor said it should look. Your body went through so much, healing isn’t going to be perfect and pretty. Everything is okay, I promise. Just look at my face, and focus on me. Everything is okay.” 

You did as she asked, breathing deeply for a few minutes, your eyes fixed on hers in the mirror. Only when some color had returned to your face, and you weren’t shaking as badly, did Alexia move from where her body pressed to yours. 

“Are you ready? She murmured in your ear, enjoying that at least from this angle, from behind you, she could feel your body against hers. You enjoyed it too, your head dropping back to her shoulder as you nodded. “Okay. We’ll go quick. I’ll wash your body, wash your hair and then you can lay down.” 

Too afraid of what would happen if you stepped into the shower by yourself, you nodded again. 

It always struck you how gentle Alexia could be. On the pitch she was a force to be reckoned with, her body a well oiled machine that always got the job done. Her job was so physical, it always surprised you how soft her hands were, how gentle her touch was. 

She was so careful with you, especially now. The blonde maneuvered you under the stream of water, getting to work right away, as if she knew how exhausted you already were, just from standing for a few minutes. She hummed as she worked the loofa across your skin, intermittently leaving kisses wherever she saw fit. Done with that, Alexia moved on to your hair, her fingers feeling absolutely magical on your scalp after several days of it being tied back in a bun. 

You were mostly silent, only speaking to reply to Alexia’s quiet check ins every few minutes. It was only when she was facing you, massaging the conditioner out of your hair as you tilted your head back under the stream of water, that you said anything of substance. 

“Thank you for helping.” 

“Always.” Alexia mumbled, her lips pressed to your forehead. “I miss hugging you.”

You melted even further, as if the careful way she washed your hair for you wasn’t soft enough. “You’re adorable.” 

“No, I am tough and strong.” Alexia objected. 

“And incredibly adorable.” You insisted. For the first time that day, Alexia saw the ghost of a smile on your lips, and she made herself a promise that she’d make you smile more often. Even if she had to be ridiculous to do so, though it would prove to be harder than she wanted. 

------

It felt like there was a dark cloud hanging over you. You were irritated and depressed and near tears for no discernible reason. Alright, there was a reason, but you were too upset to really think rationally about it. Everything hurt more once you’d stopped taking the prescription painkillers you’d been prescribed, and the lack of the drugs was definitely not helping your mood. The last two days had been horrible, your recovery hitting a wall. It had been a week exactly, and suddenly, nothing was moving fast enough. 

Now that you were used to the sight, your breasts didn’t seem as small as they had at first. They were swollen, you kept reminding yourself, but the worry that they wouldn’t be small enough, that you’d gone through all this for nothing, persisted. It didn't matter that logically, you knew they were smaller. You’d seen what was removed, been told the measurements, and still. You’d convinced yourself they looked mostly the same. It hurt to move and showering took you at least an hour every time. You hyper fixated on your appearance, worried that now that your chest was supposedly smaller, everything else would be bigger. Alexia kept taking days off work, and when she didn’t, her mother or her sister would randomly show up with something random to drop off or pick up. You hated that she felt like she couldn’t leave you alone, and you hated even more that she was right to feel that way. You couldn’t lift anything, could barely sit up on your own. Your girlfriend was stuck helping you with every little thing, from showering to walking down the stairs. It was miserable. 

It felt like she asked you every other minute if you were in pain. And god, you were. More than you thought you’d be. Everytime, though, your answer was the same. Just a bit, you’d tell her. Both of you knew you were lying. You’d grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling or perhaps unable to admit to Alexia that your chest ached and stung and pulled and hurt. Your brain didn’t feel much better. 

Of course, Alexia knew you were miserable. The doctor had warned her this might happen; it wasn’t uncommon for individuals to fall into a depression after surgery like this. There were a lot of complex emotions involved. Combine those emotions with pain and narcotics, of course you didn’t feel like yourself. She’d been awake last night, when you’d cried next to her, holding her hand like a lifeline even as you stayed as quiet as you could. Alexia knew you didn’t want her to see you in pain, and if she could bring you comfort because you thought she was asleep… she’d take that. 

Still, though, every part of her ached with how sad you seemed, and how shut down you’d become. She was sure that if you talked about even one of the things bothering you, you’d feel so much better. You weren’t talking, though, and Alexia was running out of ways to help you. 

The blonde had one final idea before she broke and called your doctor to tell him that you just weren’t coping well, and she really didn’t want to do that. So, she made you tea, put on a boring documentary, and played with your hair until you were half asleep on top of the covers of your bed, as snuggled into Alexia’s pillow as you could get at the moment. 

She gently roused you, informing you that she had to run out for groceries but she’d be back very soon, before grabbing her list and slipping out the front door. Alexia had assumed you’d gone right back to sleep, but you hadn’t.

Instead, you’d realized you had to use the bathroom, dragging yourself off your bed and into the bathroom. It was there that you bumped into the door, which hurt way more than it normally would have. It had been the last straw of an already horrible day, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t be brave anymore. 

Alexia had been in such a rush to leave so she could come back, that she forgot her wallet, turning the car around only a few minutes into her drive to return and grab it. 

“Amor, I forgot my-” Alexia’s whispered words halted as she walked into the bedroom, and the sounds of your sobs hit her ears. You weren’t in bed where she’d left you, and your girlfriend whipped her head around in panic. “Baby, where are you?” She shouted, able to tell that you were closeby. Answering her own question, she rushed towards the bathroom, only relaxing slightly when she found you. 

Hunched over by the sink, your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. Somewhere in her mind, Alexia realized that the movement was likely causing you pain. The blonde hadn’t ever heard you cry this hard in her life, and when you whipped your head around to look at her when she pushed the door open, you looked broken. You only looked more upset at the sight of her, and your girlfriend tried not to panic. 

“Baby, are you hurting?” Alexia questioned, moving forward as her hands fluttered uselessly in the air. All you could do in response was continue to cry, and reach one shaky hand towards the blonde. “I need you to talk to me.” 

It was all just too much; you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You needed her to kiss you and hold you and promise that everything would be okay. “I..I- hurts, Ale, it hurts so bad.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Alexia frowned, giving your hand a squeeze. “What can I do?” 

“I d-don’t know, it just hurts.” You sobbed, your chest stuttering. 

“The crying is not helping, amor, try to breathe.” She encouraged, exaggerating her own breaths for you to copy. It worked only slightly, and your face was still contorted in pain. “Let me get you some more medicine.” 

“No, stay.” You panicked, only tightening your grip on your girlfriend’s hand. 

“Okay, I’m right here.” She cooed, trying to move closer and give you a gentle hug. You winced away from her, though, in too much pain and too afraid of it worsening to allow her close to you. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whimpered, wanting the pain to stop if only so she could hug you. 

Pausing and pursing her lips, your girlfriend tried to think logically. Getting up was difficult for you, standing only worse.  Sitting propped up on the bed was the only way for you to be even slightly comfortable, so Alexia took each of your hands in hers. “Back to bed, okay? You’ll feel better sitting.” 

You nodded, and allowed your girlfriend to carefully lead you out of the bathroom, and back towards the bed. “Okay, almost there. You’re doing so well.” 

It felt ridiculous to be praised for something as simple as walking back to bed, especially as you needed her help to do so. Still, she sounded so earnest and encouraging you couldn’t doubt her sincerity. 

Alexia got you settled on the bed just how you liked, and adjusted the pillows until they were just right. You sighed shakily, shifting as you tried to get comfortable. 

“Tell me how to help you.” Alexia practically pleaded. 

“I want ice please.” You sniffled, desperate for anything to numb the pain on your body, and the pain inside your head. Alexia tucked the blanket around you, using her thumb to wipe a few tears off your cheeks, gazing at you regretfully. 

“I’m sorry, amor, the doctor said no ice, remember? It is bad for the circulation. I can get you more medicine and a cool towel for your head?” Her suggestions felt weak, and she wished she could just take it from you, take away how badly you felt. 

You nodded, a few more tears falling from your eyes as you did so. It seemed to Alexia as though every time she offered to help you, you cried more. She rose to go get what she needed, and you let your head fall back on the pillows, a few quiet sobs escaping. You wished you could stop needing her so badly. 

Crying too hard to notice her return, you jumped when she placed her hand on your upper arm, crying out quietly as you did so. 

“Easy, amor.” She soothed, handing you two pills and holding a straw to your lips. Once you took the medicine, she wiped the tears off your face with the wet washcloth in her hand, her features wrinkled with worry. You hadn’t stopped crying, and she didn’t know what else to do to help you. 

“Are you crying because it hurts, or because of something else?” She wondered. 

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop.” You whimpered, clutching almost desperately at your girlfriend’s hand. 

Letting out a sad, sympathetic sound you’d never heard her make, Alexia took her place on her side of the bed, scooting over so she was pressed up against the pillow that was pressed up against you. It was the best she could do at the moment, even if she wanted to pull you into her and never let go. You reached over the pillow to grab onto her hoodie, the brown one with holes all over it you liked to make fun of. She’d put it on earlier, hoping you’d do just that, but she’d had no luck. 

Alexia just watched you for a few minutes, both of her hands on you, tracing patterns into your skin wherever she was sure wouldn’t hurt you. It became clear to her that you were exhausting yourself, your eyes barely even open anymore as you wiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. 

“Amor, you need rest.” She whispered, watching your eyes flutter open to look at her helplessly. 

How were you supposed to sleep when you were so upset? 

“I can’t.” 

“Try for me. Close your eyes, relax your body.” The blonde instructed, smiling despite herself as you instantly did as she asked. Grabbing the cool washcloth again, she folded it in half and draped it over your eyes. Sighing you settled back into the pillows a bit, chest still stuttering every few seconds, but less intensely than it had been. “Sleep, cariño. I’m right here, I love you, and everything is okay.” 

Her words had an incomprehensible power over you, and it wasn’t long before you were barely clinging to consciousness. The tears had stopped, and all you could really think about was that you were really glad that Alexia was here with you. 

------

Alexia wasn’t sure how long you’d cried for before your grip on her sweatshirt had gone slack, and you’d finally relaxed. She let you sleep for an hour or so, though, unmoving so she didn’t disturb you. She busied herself with her phone, placing an order of the things she needed so she didn’t have to leave you, but mostly, she just watched you sleep. Swollen and red eyes, tear stained face, uncomfortable frown on your face even as you slept, you were still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen in her life. 

Once the delivery was made, your girlfriend slipped out of bed as carefully as she could, heading for the front door. Turning around with the bags from the front porch in hand, Alexia jumped a little at the sight of you standing behind her. She hadn’t heard you follow her out of the bedroom, but she saw you now, more tears falling down your flushed face. 

“Hey,” she said soothingly, moving closer even as you backed away from her. 

“You were supposed to go grocery shopping and I ruined it,” you cried, feeling a little ridiculously upset that you’d messed up her plans. You just thought she needed the time away from you. It wasn’t as though you were pleasant to be around right now. “You didn't get to run your errands, I’m so sorry.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, mi amor.” Alexia cooed. “Come on, sit on the couch for me, and I’ll show you what I got.” 

Sniffling, Alexia led you to the couch, helping you sit down and once again, placing the excessive amount of pillows exactly as you liked them. She began to pull items out of the bags once she sat down next to you, explaining what she’d gotten as she did so in a very quiet, almost shy voice. 

“A new candle, it makes the crackle sounds you like. Your favorite candy. Some roses, and I will put them in a vase and you could put them next to your bed, if you want. This is supposed to be a cooling blanket, so you don’t get too warm. I noticed you were almost out of the hair ties you use, so I got more of those. You liked that one button up shirt you got, so I got more because they are easier than other shirts, and these are very soft.” She listed everything out, putting it all on the coffee table in front of you. 

It was endless, the number of things she’d bought for you. Favorite snacks, a book you’d mentioned wanting to read once. A new coffee mug, even though she always complained that you had too many already, just because she knew you’d like the color. One bag was full of the ingredients to make your favorite dinner. She grabbed the last bag off the floor, really rambling now that you hadn’t said a word in at least 2 minutes. 

“I can return this if you don’t want it.” She finished, pressing the small, plush elephant into your hands as her face turned red. “I thought he could keep you company when I’m at work, but it’s probably stupid-”

You cut her off, tucking the elephant under one arm as you tilted her chin up with your other. Her face fell further, because you were still crying. 

She didn’t know that they were no longer sad tears. 

“I love you.” You blubbered, absolutely sure that there weren't words to describe how grateful you were for her at that moment. Ale, your perfect, sweet Ale. What had you done in your life to deserve her? “I love the elephant, I love everything. What did you do all this for?” 

Alexia looked at you incredulously, her fingers linking with yours. “You have been so down. I just wanted to make you smile. I thought maybe one of these things could.” 

“Oh. I… I didn’t know you noticed. I thought I was doing a good job hiding it.” 

You would never be winning an Oscar, Alexia thought to herself. “Why would you hide that from me?” She wondered, her face adorably confused. 

“You’re dealing with enough from me right now, you don’t need-”

“I decide what I need and don’t need.” Alexia cut in, her voice so firm it had your head snapping up to stare at her. She wasn’t angry, though, just… passionate. “Don’t push me away because you think you are being too much. I knew what I was getting into when you scheduled this surgery. I arranged to have time off so I could take care of you. I know you are hurting and I know you are upset, and I want nothing more than for you to talk to me.” 

“You’re too good to me.” You murmured, eyes flitting all over her face, trying to memorize the sincere expression on her face. 

“This is what you deserve.” Alexia disagreed, her knee shifting over until it pressed into yours. “Now, I know you are hurting because you just had surgery, but I do not know what has you so sad. Can you tell me? Please?”

How could you say no to that? The issue was, you weren’t even sure where to start. “There’s too many things. I’m just… I don’t feel right.” 

Alexia hummed. “Amor, it is normal to be depressed after a surgery like this. It says in the post op notes, your doctor talked to me about it. This is normal, how you are feeling is normal and it isn’t going to last forever.”

It was the same thing you’d been telling yourself, except now it echoed around your head in Alexia’s voice, and that held so much more meaning. Nodding meekly, you wondered if you should keep going. 

“What else?” 

Nervously, you glanced down at your chest. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Not everyone got the chance to have this surgery, even if they needed it, and it felt so disgusting to complain. The feeling that they were still too big was unshakeable, though. 

“You don’t like how they look.” Alexia stated simply. You stared at her, jaw dropped, wondering suddenly if she could read minds. She gave you a small smile, tugging at her ponytail and fiddling with the ends of her hair. “That is normal, too. I read about it. They don’t feel different enough?” 

“No.” You replied quietly, still ashamed of your feelings. 

“They are still swollen. It will take three to four months for them to look how they are going to look. You have to be patient, you have to give yourself time. I know everything is overwhelming right now, but I promise you, they are smaller, and they will get smaller still.” 

This time, Alexia raised your intertwined hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of yours. “What else?” She asked again. A mind reader, for sure, you decided. 

You bit your lip before speaking, though it was progress that you verbalized your feelings without Alexia having to guess. “I’m in so much pain. It’s taking so long to go away. You can’t do anything or go anywhere because you’re here helping me. I’m such a burden right now and I hate it. I’m so tired of this. I don’t want you to have to help me with every little thing.”

Alexia looked almost offended. “You have never been a burden a day in your life, and I am sorry that anyone has ever made you feel that way. I am happy to be here, and help you heal. Really, amor. You’ve wanted this for so long, and this part isn’t very fun, but you’re doing so well. It hurts, and it sucks, I know that. It feels like it’s taking forever, but it’s just barely been a week. You aren’t helping yourself by keeping all these negative thoughts in your head, either.”

“Probably not.” You agreed timidly. 

“Probably not.” Alexia echoed, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I am here for you because I want to be, so let me help, okay? It isn’t your instinct to tell me when you are hurting, or when you need help, but I want you to try, okay? Just try.” 

“I’ll try.” You promised. Because, honestly, if Alexia was this good at making all your fears and stressors melt away and she was happy to do it, there was no justification for suffering in silence anymore. 

“I”m proud of you. You are doing so well, and I love you. Everything is going to feel better soon, and until then, I am right here with you.”

“Are you going somewhere once I am better?” You asked teasingly, just the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. This did not go unnoticed by your girlfriend, who leaned closer and got a look on her face you knew to be her I just won look. 

“A smile.” Alexia grinned, pressing her forehead against yours, still making sure to give your entire midsection a wide berth. 

“It’s just for you.” You whispered, holding eye contact with her, and enjoying that it no longer felt insincere because you were keeping so much to yourself. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” Alexia promised. Her words were barely more than a warm exhale on your mouth, and before long, she was brushing her soft lips against yours, giving you the world’s most careful kiss. 

She had magical kisses, you decided. Magic hands, as they linked with yours. A magic smile that made you grin, too. Good taste in get better soon gifts, you thought, picking up the elephant and asking her if she’d thought of a name for it. 

“Alex.” She smirked, looking rather proud of herself. 

And maybe she had egotistical taste in names, but you were more convinced every second that she was right, that things would get better, and a bit of ego was something you could handle. Especially when it came wrapped up in a package with overwhelming amounts of love and care. You were the luckiest girl in the world, you’d never been more sure of that. 

Hours later, after you’d eaten your favorite dinner and lit your new candle, settling into bed with a much more relaxed look on your face, Alexia thought the same thing. She was the luckiest to have you. Your smile was worth everything, and she’d missed it these past few days. It didn’t feel like she’d have to miss it anymore, though, especially as you drifted off, your hand in hers. Lips curved just slightly upward. You always had a smile to give Alexia. 

------

i'm honestly not sure if this is too niche for people to enjoy, so i'd appreciate any thoughts anyone has :) this feels wildly vulnerable and i will do my absolute best to not get embarrassed and delete it 🙏 love to you all 🫶🏻🫶🏻🥰🥰

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now | 2 |

in which readers true feelings are revealed.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings/tags: angst again (whoops) miscommunication (it’s short dw) fluff, reader is hungover lol, spencer is handsomely disheveled (moans) mentions of blueberry muffins being readers favourite type of muffin (sorry for not being vague but also if you don’t like blueberry muffins??? why) some tears, some swearing, some kissing, suggestiveness at the end of you squint (WHOOPS *evil smirk*) no use of y/n!! wc: 2.1k a/n: call me slim shady because i am back!!! i procrastinated writing this because i was scared everyone was secretly judging my writing and actually hated it and a second part would be a stupid idea but THEN i realised that was a little bit silly so im here B) part one got over 1000 notes (INSANE) all the support has been so so lovely—every note, reblog, and comment means the world to me, thank you!! i hope this part is okayy, feedback is always appreciated :) i hope you enjoy it you choose to read!!! <3 p.s kissing scenes are so difficult to write, i think i done absolutely awful!!!so let’s ignore that…. if you haven’t already and you’d like to, you can read part one here!

Your eyelids twitched as the early morning sun filtered through your bedroom. What was usually a calming wake-up call now felt like being blinded.

You burrowed your face into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to dull the throbbing in your head. This is why you didn’t drink often.

Asides from the obvious headache and nausea, you always seemed to wake up with a sense of dread; ‘hangxiety’—a friend had called it once. It was creeping up on you now, and even though you weren’t sure exactly what you had done, you knew it was bad. You flipped onto your back, fixing your gaze to the ceiling as if it could tell you what irreparable mistakes you had made last night.

It couldn’t, of course. The only thing you had realised is that you should probably coat it in a new layer of paint soon.

“How’re you feeling?”

You shot up, eyes widening at the sight of a man in your doorway. A man whose sleepy voice and disheveled hair threatened to make you melt, but a man who should not be in your doorway, nonetheless; Spencer.

Your brain was quick to supply you with information then, your memory coming back in hazy remnants. You were upset so you…called Spencer for the first time in months. Yikes. He didn’t answer so you turned to a bottle of high end whiskey instead—yikes, again—and passed out on your couch, only to wake up to your ex-boyfriend in your apartment. Cue more sobbing, a pathetic attempt at asking—no, more like begging—him to get back together with you, and that was it. Well, mostly. There was also the promise of discussing your breakdown in the morning. The morning, which was now.

What the fuck.

“Like I’ve been napalmed.” You weren’t sure you were just referring to your raging hangover.

That prompted a raspy kind of chuckle from him and Jesus Christ—you really shouldn’t have called, because it was going to be infinitely harder to watch him leave when he inevitably told you you were sad loser who needed to get a grip and move on—except, he’d be a lot nicer than that, wouldn’t he? Because even if things were over between you, he was still the sweetest person you had ever met and he’d never say anything to intentionally hurt you. Maybe things would be easier if he did. If he wasn’t so sickeningly perfect—if he just insulted you in the way you were certain you deserved, then maybe you’d get over him quicker.

“So, I-ah-uber’d breakfast—“

Your inner turmoil came to a screeching halt at those words.

“You uber’d? You?”

He scoffed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“The team’s been very into it lately and I always finish my paperwork first so it only makes sense that I—stop laughing! I can uber!”

“Sorry! I just can’t imagine the great Doctor Reid stooping to the levels of a fast food delivery app. Do you ever order to the wrong place?”

“No.” he said, unconvincingly. “Well, only once—“

You were laughing again.

He whined, turning on his heel.

“Just take your aspirin and hurry up!” He grumbled petulantly as he left the room, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

After a quick freshen up and taking the pills placed on your bedside table—as per his request—you padded through to the living room, joining Spencer on the couch.

You gasped delightedly as he pulled out muffins from a brown paper bag. To be more specific, blueberry muffins; your favourite.

“Did you know that blueberries are good for fighting hangovers? They’re rich in vitamin C, which helps break down and metabolise blood alcohol. Muffins too, they—what? Do I have something on my face—“

“No! No, sorry,” You had been caught staring—ogling, more like. “I just missed…that.”

“What? My incessant rambling?” He was joking, but you could hear the insecure twinge in his voice—the one that told him he was too much. Over the course of your relationship, you had showed him that he didn’t have to think like that around you—that he was never too much; he was perfect in your eyes. You hated that he doubted that now.

“Yes, actually.” You tried to keep your tone light, unserious. But there was nothing unserious about just how badly you had missed the man sitting beside you. How you could hear his voice in your mind when you drove late at night, giving you statistics on accidents. Or how on other late nights, you swore you could feel his hands ghosting over your skin—only to find out it was your imagination.

If he could see how truthful you were being, he didn’t acknowledge it, turning his attention back to the coffee table.

“I’ll, um, save you the facts on how beneficial coffee is for hangovers, anyway.” He smiled awkwardly, shuffling a paper coffee cup to where your muffin sat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “for the coffee, not the withholding of information—i’m a real fiend for coffee facts…especially when they’re related to curing hangovers!” You said a little too cheerily, trying to alleviate the awkward tension. Although, that only seemed to make it worse.

Spencer just huffed out a little laugh in response, taking the wrapper off of his muffin.

The rest of breakfast went by in silence. Not the comfortable silence you always seemed to have with Spencer—when you were together, you reminded yourself—but a strained one. The kind of silence that occurs when there’s something left unsaid, and you’re just waiting for someone to spit it out.

Spencer broke first.

“So we should probably talk…about last night.”

You finished the remainder of your coffee, setting the empty cup down before turning your whole body to Spencer, tucking your legs up underneath you.

“Right, yeah…”

A beat passed, Spencer’s eyes darting around your face—assessing you.

For someone who had imagined this conversation in your mind countless times, you certainly weren’t saying much.

“I—uh…was very drunk.”

Something in him shifted, like he was putting up imaginary walls.

“So you didn’t mean…any of it?” His brow furrowed, his nose twitching slightly.

“Well no, but I—“ You what? Meant every word you said and more? You couldn’t just say that. You had just got a small part of Spencer back and you didn’t want to ruin it by coming on too strong.

He waited for you to add something, anything, to show him that maybe, maybe there was a tiny part of you that still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. But you didn’t. You just sat there, playing with the fabric of your—his—t-shirt.

He couldn’t do it.

He was so tired of loving people only for them to leave like he had meant nothing to them. Was that all he was to you? Someone you could call when your inhibitions were lowered, looking for comfort? He would do anything to be back in your life again, but he couldn’t be a person of convenience; someone you only wanted when you were lonely.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down the tightness in his throat.

“You were drunk and you got carried away, I get it. I think I better go though—“

“What? No, I—“ You bobbed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the words necessary to keep him here. There were too many of them and yet none at all. None except for three. Three words that you wished you had the courage to say months ago, or weeks ago, or last night. But you never claimed to be a courageous person, and you weren’t about to spill your heart out again only for it to end up in rejection.

Spencer stood, making his way to your bedroom to grab his shoes and coat. He didn’t care about his other clothes, he could buy more—he just needed out before he broke.

You sat dumbfounded on the couch, willing yourself to do something, say something. It was like you were frozen. And you stayed frozen. As Spencer shuffled around your bedroom, as he returned to the living room—completely avoiding your gaze—even as he searched for his keys. You hadn’t realised he had driven over here. He didn’t usually drive unless he had to get somewhere urgently. Were you someone worth seeing urgently to him?

He picked up his keys, heading for your door and only then did you realise how dire the situation was. If he left now you weren’t sure he would ever come back.

“No—wait, Spencer!” You stammered, lunging off the couch to try and stop him. He unlocked the door, moving to leave when you grabbed onto his jacket sleeve.

“Please don’t—I love you!”

“What?”

He turned to face you and you noticed just how wrecked he looked—not at all dissimilar from how you had for the last few months. Had he looked like that the whole time?

You must’ve been staring because when you came back to your senses he was calling your name exasperatedly.

“Do you mean it?”

You were fed up living like this; harbouring so much love for someone and not being able to express it. Even if he didn’t love you back, even if he was over you, you couldn’t go another moment without at least telling him how you felt.

“Yes,” you heaved, “I love you—I never stopped loving you, I was just…” You knitted your brows together, unsure how to phrase what you were feeling.

“I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and that’s…terrifying. I thought the way I felt was wrong, like—when you were on cases, I missed you so much, more than I thought humanely possible and—well, I never wanted to be the kind of girl to base her happiness on another person because that’s how you get hurt. So, I thought the only way to combat that was by…distancing myself. I thought if you weren’t in my life anymore then I’d be able to get a grip and become more independent—“ you huffed, trying to stop the wobble of your voice. “but it didn’t work, because then I was just missing you twice as much, except I couldn’t see you at all—“

“You could’ve answered my messages, we could’ve—“

“So you could return your key? Then things would actually be over. Why do you think I ignored your messages?”

“Why do you think I kept messaging? Angel, I was never going to return that key—at least not willingly—I just wanted to see you, to see if you were doing just as horribly without me as I was without you. You know, I couldn’t even focus on cases—Hotch even suggested I take some time off.”

You frowned, your voice impossibly small. “I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Don’t apologise, you were dealing with your emotions in the best way you knew how. I just wish…” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I wish I hadn’t let you go so easily.”

His eyes were shining and—God, you wished you could take it all back. All the pain you had caused him, caused yourself, just because you were too scared to talk about your feelings.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y’know, I read a book on astrophysics because it reminded me of you. I didn’t understand any of it but I couldn’t put it down. I still—“ you let out a watery chuckle. “still have it in my bedroom somewhere.”

Spencer smiled, swiping under your eye at a tear that must’ve escaped.

“Yeah? Maybe I can read it to you—help you understand it.”

“I’d like that.”

You didn't know much about celestial bodies or the ultimate fate of the universe, but you could've sworn you'd seen the stars pictured in that book in Spencer’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Say it again.” He mumbled, tilting his head down so that your faces were just inches apart.

“I love you.”

And then his lips were on yours, impossibly soft and everything you had been missing since you had broken up. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed and all you could do was sigh into him because you knew the feeling.

He leaned back all too soon, resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, I should probably go—“ He smirked, but you cut him off before he could continue his teasing.

“You’re not funny.”

He narrowed his eyes, sucking his teeth.

“I don’t know, I—“

You pressed a firm hand on his chest, bunching the cotton of his t-shirt into a fist.

“Stop. Stay—we can have a pyjama day and maybe for dinner, you can show me just how tech savvy you’ve become and uber us some food—“

He rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut before pressing his lips to yours with more force this time.

“Stop talking.”

[luffysprincess]

LIE DETECTOR TEST : BACHIRA MEGURU

⊹ summary : the blue lock boys are invited to take a lie detector test, but they’ve got to answer twitter’s unfiltered questions

⊹ pairing : bachira meguru x reader (established relationship)

⊹ wc : 640

⊹ warnings : fem!reader with she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as a “wife”, suggestive/nsfw. MINORS DNI

⊹ a/n : i recommend reading isagi’s version first for more context and a hugee thank you to @nymphsdomain for finding the link to a rb and to aali <3 (@tteokdoroki ) for reblogging this and isagi’s parts in the first place bc shes the reason these could even be found again!! 

⊹ isagi’s version I kunigami’s version

Isagi could only huff out as he tucked his phone back into his pockets. He should’ve expected this honestly, considering he’s known the man for years now.

It’s been quite some time since Bachira’s been hooked up to the machine. Only a few minutes were spent calibrating it with some straightforward questions, but since then, he’s gone into full, honest detail to every question Twitter had for him. And it had every person in the room looking at him with either pure shock and/or amusement.

“…and that’s when I had her squirting all over the back of the team’s bus”

Kunigami spit out his water, and Isagi’s eyes grew wider than ever before as they both turned to him.

“What?! When did this happen?!”

Bachira chuckled at their reaction, “Last match ♡”

“Milo?”

“No lies so far,” Milo laughed.

“Wait…don’t Rin and Barou always sit in the back…“

“Yup” Bachira answered proudly.

“Oh my god. They’re gonna kill you when they watch this.”

“That’s if they watch it. Which they won’t.”

“Alright next question! Twitter user @/bachirasbitch asks What’s your wildest sexual fantasy and why does it include me?”

Kunigami whistles, “Your fans are just as shameless as you”.

“They’re right though. It does include them. And the rest of my fans too.” Bachira chuckles at the looks he’s getting from his teammates before continuing, “I’ve always wanted an audience for what me and Y/N do behind closed doors. I think it’d be pretty exciting knowing someone’s watching me pleasure my wife.”

“You should make an only fans account then,” the interviewer suggests. “Your fans would probably love that.”

“Now who says I don’t already have one,” he winks back.

“Well do you?”

“I don’t have to answer that. I’m here to answer Twitter, not you” he grins.

“Fair enough,” the man sighs. “Let’s see, we’ve got time for one more question for you. @/bluelickmyclit asks What’s the most awkward thing that’s ever happened between you and one of your teammates?”

“Ooh I like this question.”

“I don’t” chimed Isagi.

“So before my wife and I moved into our apartment, we used to be next door neighbors with Yoichi. The way the floor plan was had us sharing a wall between our bedrooms. I know, silly design. Now this happened quite some time ago; before I got married, and back when this guy—” he points his thumb over to Isagi who’s hiding his face in his hands “—was single. I don’t know if I’d call this the most awkward incident but it was pretty awkward, ‘cause there wasn’t a single night we went to sleep without hearing him moan out Y/N’s name. And I mean every night—“

“Ok!” Isagi interrupted, cheeks and ears tinted pink. “I think they get it”

“I don’t know why it took him so long to realize the walls were paper thin. Y/N and I aren’t exactly the quietest people out there. He had to have heard us every night too— ow” Isagi cut him off with a punch to the arm, sick of his teasing which only furthered Bachira’s amusement.

“I hope you know Y/N found it very flattering”

“Shut up and take the cuffs off.”

“She thinks it was cute”

“Kunigami, hurry up and connect to the machine.”

“I’m rather enjoying this, actually. How often was this happening again?”

“Every night” Bachira and Kunigami continue to tease Isagi, laughing at him as he attempts to unhook one teammate and attach the sensors to the other instead.

Bachira had never had so much fun in an interview before. He couldn’t wait to go home and tell you all about it and then watch it with you when it aired. But for now, he’d enjoy messing with his friends like this. And now that Kunigami was up next, he was looking forward to it even more.

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

matching bracelets (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: when (y/n) buys kaz a bracelet she does so as a joke, she knows he’ll never actually wear it. imagine her surprise when she sees it dangling around his wrist.

based on the prompt: person A gets person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.

warnings: mentions of blood and torture (not explicit, briefly mentioned)

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: guess who's back after a year of being mia!! i've been working on a lot of fics, but inspiration just hasn't been there, so i'm going slow, i don't like to force myself to write if i don't feel like it. anywaysss, i hope you enjoy this one! it was such a fun ride to write :)

Jesper opens the door with a loud bang, strutting into the Slat with his head held high and a slight jump in his step. He’s whistling good-naturedly, his left hand twirling a pistol and his right hand holding a rumpled piece of paper.

(Y/N)’s right hand— which had immediately reached for the pocket knife in her boot at the tumultuous noise— retreats back to her side. She relaxes, letting her shoulders sag and briefly looking down to make the final correction on a contract Kaz had her look over, left hand holding the pen and swiftly moving over the paper.

Jesper makes his way towards her, still whistling. She follows him from the corner of her eye, a slight smirk taking over her features. He’s in a good mood, the kind of mood he’s only ever in when the Gods are in his favor and he manages to miraculously not gamble away all his money. It’s not something that happens often.

“Did you win some?” she asks, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way the Sharpshooter preens under the attention. Jesper, very much in character and to (Y/N)’s delight, twirls around and does a ridiculous dance before taking a small bow.

“Baby, I won a whole lot.”

She huffs out a laugh, leaning back as she watches him place the pistol in its respective holster before plopping down on the chair by her right side and tossing her a small bag.

(Y/N) catches it smoothly, reflexes as sharp as always.

She doesn’t need to open the sack to know there’s kruge in there; the sound of coins jiggling against each other is a dead giveaway.

Jesper winks, a teasing smile on his lips. He tips his chair back, feet on top of the table, “Because you’re my favorite.”

It’s really because he owes her more kruge than he’ll ever be able to repay, but (Y/N) plays along. She’s never cared much about money, anyways.

“You sure do know how to charm a lady,” she smirks.

“I’m good at charming gents, too.”

“Versatile.”

“You know me.”

(Y/N) smiles, softer around the edges this time, something reserved only for her closest friends. She’s about to being correcting another contact— she has twelve to go through, all because she’d been bored and had decided annoying Kaz would be a great way to spend her time, he obviously hadn’t agreed —when Jesper slides over the piece of paper he’d been holding in his right hand. In the time he’d made his way towards her he’d somehow managed to crumple it completely.

She takes it, half curious, half willing to do anything to procrastinate revising and correcting those stupid documents.

“Brought this for you, too. I’ve got the feeling you’re going to enjoy this much more than the money.”

Her eyebrows furrow with curiosity as she slowly opens up the paper.

Ink contrasts the yellowish hue of the paper. Her own face greets her, drawn by hand, but fairly accurate.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Wanted dead or alive.

1,000 kruge.

She can’t help the snicker that falls from her lips

Jesper is right. This is better, much better.

“Can’t believe it’s only a thousand this time,” she huffs, a small pout on her lips. “I must be losing my touch.”

Jesper snorts at that.

(Because she hasn’t lost her touch, not even a little, and they both know it. Just yesterday she’d managed to get vital information out of a Black Tip member with a single touch and a minimal amount of bloodshed. Three days before that she’d disposed of a rival gang member who’d been speaking too freely and she’d made sure his body would never be found. Two weeks prior to that Kaz had sent her to steal a miniature stature and she’d done it without a hitch, forging an identical copy in less than five days. No, she still very much has it.)

“I might have to go overboard next time,” she muses quietly to herself, “do something that will raise the bounty to at least two thousand five hundred.”

She traces the outline of her name, biting down a smile when Jesper snorts.

“You’re insane,” the Sharpshooter deadpans, the fondness in his tone almost tangible.

(Y/N) smiles wickedly at him, “So they say.”

Marbles is what they’ve nicknamed her around the Barrel. They say she’s lost them all. And it must be true, she must be out of her mind, because having a bounty on your head in Ketterdam is nothing less than a death sentence. It means having the most ruthless assassins coming after you, all looking for a way to make fast money. It’s living with the constant fear of someone sneaking up on you and slicing your throat, of having your food poisoned, of being choked to death in your sleep, of having your closest friends betray you as a means to survive. But to (Y/N), who has been part of the city’s underworld since before being able to formulate words, who has had any sort of ability to feel fear beaten out of her, this is nothing but one of the most amazing sources of entertainment. It keeps her on her toes, brings an adrenaline rush that does not compare to anything else. She must be crazy because any sane person would be paralyzed in fear, running for their lives, and yet all she can feel is the comforting thrill of being in mortal danger. (And, yes, it is comforting. She was raised to be a weapon, trained to withstand any form of torture; having Death peering over her shoulder is something she’s comfortable with, something she’s used to, something that soothes her). Besides, even if she wasn’t deadly confident in her own abilities (which she very much is), and even if she was able to feel terror overtaking her limbs (which she doesn’t think she’ll ever feel again), the title she holds would be enough to keep her relatively safe; she is Kaz’s right hand, and no one dares touch something that belongs to Dirtyhands.

(Y/N) stares at the poster for a little while longer— they got her nose wrong, made it too pointy —before smirking to herself. She knows how this will all go down, has seen it played out a few dozen times before (this is a regular occurrence, after all, a bounty is placed on her head every couple of months, whenever she loses her temper and murders someone who was deemed untouchable, or steals something much too valuable for her blood-stained hands). So, yes, she knows how this will go; the bounty will stay up for a couple of weeks, long enough for a few to dare try to kill her, and then it’ll be removed by whoever placed it once they realize it’s futile, once they see how everyone who even dares breathe too close to her winds up dead. She hopes the assassination attempts are entertaining, she hopes whoever dares come after her head gives her a good fight, if only to keep things interesting. It’s been a while since she’s had some unrestrained fun.

(Kaz keeps her on a tight rein, knows better than to let her run around freely. To say things can get out of hand when she’s left to her own devices would be an understatement.)

“Again?”

The voice comes from behind her, and (Y/N) doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she heard his steps since before he even walked into the room. (It’s easy to know when it’s Kaz, he subconsciously places more weight on his left leg to keep the right one from aching, it makes his footsteps distinctive.) Still, she angles her head to meet his eyes. He’s leaning over her chair, cold eyes watching the bounty poster with disdain.

He’s never said it but (Y/N) knows that he doesn’t appreciate her life being imperiled. She is, in a way, an extension of him, and therefore any threats to her he sees as direct threats to him. Dirtyhands doesn’t take it well to being threatened.

“It’s okay, boss,” Jesper calls out. He’s still tipping his chair back, now playing with his guns. (Y/N) is kind of tempted to lean forward and kick one of the chair’s wooden legs, just to watch him struggle, possibly even fall. But Jesper’s known her long enough to realize when she’s on the verge of becoming a nuisance because his eyes narrow playfully and he lets the chair’s weight drop forward, “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) can see the way Kaz’s face morphs. It’s almost indistinguishable, but she notices it. She thinks she would be able to spot the most minimal change in Kaz, she’s known him long enough for that. (Y/N) watches in amusement as he opens his mouth, no doubt to argue that he isn’t worrying at all, because Gods forbid he ever outwardly cared about anyone, but Jesper beats him to the punch and keeps going, “Heard some of Pekka’s Lions talking ‘bout how they’re not even going to try to come after her this time.”

“How boring,” she mutters to herself in disappointment, reaching for her glass of whisky. She’d meant for the comment to go unheard but Jesper’s snicker tells her that she wasn’t successful.

She takes a chug as Jesper points an accusatory finger at her and smirks, “That’s all on you, Marbles.”

At her bewildered look, he elaborates, “Two of them said something about not wanting to meet the same fate as the Razorgull guy from a couple of months ago—” (Y/N) smirks at that. The guy had deserved it. He hadn’t just tried to kill her, but also grope her. Murder she could understand, respect even, but touching someone else without their consent? No, she drew the line there. She’d had him swallow his own testicles; it’d seemed fitting enough. “—and the other one said that even if you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t come close, not with you being Kaz’s right hand,” Jesper pauses for a second, a smug smile appearing on his lips, “and his best friend.”

Their reaction is instantaneous; Kaz goes rigid at the words and a smirk takes over (Y/N)’s features.

Oh, if the night didn’t just suddenly get better.

She glances up at her best friend, only to find him already glaring daggers at Jesper, who shrugs helplessly and innocently says, “Just telling it like I heard it, boss.” The flicker of amusement in his eyes reveals that he’s very much aware of just how much ammunition he’s provided (Y/N) with.

(Y/N)’s smirk becomes wider and gains a teasing edge when Kaz looks down to meet her eyes. His eyes harden, explicitly telling her to not utter a single word. Sadly for him, she has never been one to follow the rules, and Kaz must notice she’s not about to obey because his face morphs slightly, just enough to show the most minimum amount of discomfort. He cringes just the tiniest bit, bracing himself.

He knows her too well.

“You hear that?” she asks him, tone light and filled with amusement, “We’re best friends!”

“We are not,” Kaz tenses his jaw as he replies. He backs away from her, as if creating physical space between them will somehow stop the words from leaving her mouth and making their way towards him. As if distance could make her less of an bother.

(Y/N) fake gasps, clutching the skin over her heart in the most dramatic manner, “You wound me deeply, Kazzy.”

Jesper snorts, coughing to try to drown the laughter. She might be the only one who doesn’t get a knife to the jugular when calling him that.

Kaz’s eyes snap toward the Sharpshooter and the look must be deadly because Jesper quiets down immediately and tries his best to evade the boss’s glare. Kaz’s gaze then shifts towards (Y/N) and she perks up at the way his eyes harden even further in annoyance. He’s told her a million times to drop that ‘ridiculously stupid’ nickname and she’s decided she never will, not when it drives him to this point of exasperation.

(She’s a thrill chaser, you see. That’s what happens when you’ve seen just about everything and lived twice as much; few things get your heart pumping. And getting on Kaz’s nerves? That’s always exciting. (Y/N) never knows what to expect of him. The Bastard of the Barrel is unpredictable in a way that’s just delightful.)

“If you call me that one more time—”

“What are you gonna do? You can’t possibly try to hurt me. Best friends don’t do that to each other,” she mocks.

His eyebrow twitches, her grin stretches.

Oh, she’s going to have a field day with this one.

It’s obvious that Kaz knows he’s not winning this discussion because he walks forward, snatches the revised contracts and makes his way back to where he came from.

“Get those done before tomorrow afternoon.”

Boring. She was expecting more banter.

(Y/N) turns around to watch him leave, unable to stop herself from throwing a sarcastic, “Sure thing, bestie.” She does her best to sweeten the last word in a way that she knows will infuriate Kaz.

He freezes.

Bingo.

Even from afar, (Y/N) can see the way he tightens the grip on his cane. She’s thoroughly disappointed when he doesn’t throw a dagger her way. That would’ve been exciting. He takes another route, one she should’ve seen coming.

“I’ve got seven more files that need to be corrected. Collect them when you’re done with those.”

The corner of her lips tugs upwards slightly. There’s something thrilling about playing this game with Kaz, of seeing how much one of them can push before the other yields. He’s skilled and she enjoys the competition.

She ignores his order, “Goodnight, Kazzy.”

He slams the door on his way out, the only visible sign that she managed to get on his nerves. That’s mildly entertaining. Causing even the slightest slip of Kaz’s control over his temper is a success in her books.

“You’re out of your mind,” Jesper informs her.

She raises her glass of whisky at him and winks.

And that’s how it begins, as a joke. (Y/N) refers to Kaz as her best friend on every given chance. His reactions never disappoint.

There’s a lot of death threats;

(“Don’t mind him, bestie here is always grumpy.”

Clenched jaw, an exasperated sigh. “I will murder you.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Kazzy.”

There’s a knife thrown her way. (Y/N) catches it with ease, whistling good-naturedly. She smirks when she catches the look of annoyance in Kaz’s face.)

and a lot of not so kind words thrown her way.

(“I get special best friend privileges, right?”

“You get tolerated,” Kaz mutters, “barely.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Now tell me you love me.”

There’s that Brekker glare, one that would send anyone to an early grave. (Y/N) just smiles sweetly.

“Get out.”

“Whatever makes you happy, best friend.”

She cackles as she closes the door behind her, the curses Kaz is sending her way loud enough for her to hear.)

All in all, (Y/N) is as happy as can be. Having the time of her life, really. It’s not often that she finds something that makes Kaz fume. He plays the game too, of course. He has her going over financial documents and legal contracts on her free time, knowing just how much she hates the bureaucracy, and he gives her the household chores she despises the most. Still, (Y/N) doesn’t complain. She does everything with a smug smile on her face. The annoyance that flashes through Kaz’s face makes it all worth it.

The bracelet isn’t something she plans for, it really isn’t, but the Saints place the opportunity right in front of her and who is she but a mere mortal that must obey the signs evidently laid by otherworldly deities (or whatever bullshit those religious fanatics preach).

(Y/N) inspects the wristlets in her hand. They’re black and rough, made of broken-down nets that fishermen dispose of near the pier when the material has worn down beyond repair and is no longer useful. The little girl who had sold it to her couldn’t have been older than seven, and yet the design was more than decent. (Y/N) had offered three kruge for it, much more than it was worth. The child had looked delighted, had thanked her profusely as she’d placed the coins inside her worn-down shoes.

Oh, (Y/N) cannot wait to see Kaz’s face.

“What’s that?” Jesper asks as she meets up with him, eying the bracelets with a gleam of interest. He twirls his guns absentmindedly, missing the way some of the fishermen glance at him with distrust.

“Oh, you know, just some matching bracelets for me and my best friend.”

Jesper snickers, shaking his head and proceeding to let out a low whistle.

“This might be his breaking point.”

“Wouldn’t that be delightful.”

“You’re insane, Marbles.”

She gives him a wicked smile accompanied by a wink. She’s about to retort when she catches sight of a shadow on the corner of her eye. She recognizes it immediately as her target. Shopping, as fun as it had been, wasn’t the reason she and Jesper were waiting by the pier. They’ve got orders. She has people to torture and interrogate and dispose of— preferably in a quiet manner —and Jesper is Kaz’s way of making sure she’s got her back covered. (Not that she needs backup, but whatever, she has tried arguing with Kaz about it and it’s the one thing he won’t relent on, the one matter she’s accepted she won't ever win. Kaz doesn't play when it comes to her safety.).

“If you’re kind enough to hold these for me,” she places the bracelets on Jesper’s unoccupied hand, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

They make it back to the Slat before sunrise. (Y/N) had been quick and efficient, as she always was, and Jesper had been a quiet and solid shadow, as he always was.

“I assume it all went according to plan,” the Bastard asks when he hears their steps coming into his office. It’s late, or rather extremely early in the morning, and yet (Y/N) isn’t surprised by Kaz’s presence. He rarely sleeps.

“It went without a hitch, boss,” Jesper responds, resting against the doorframe.

(Y/N) hesitates for a split second, her memory providing a brief flashback to the interrogation she’d done, to three little words the man had let slip out: they’re coming for you.

A warning or maybe a promise.

Thrilling, either way. It wasn’t often that she was verbally threatened.

At the time, she’d dismissed the words, too filled with bloodlust to pay them any mind, but now, with a clear mind and a steady heartbeat, she suddenly remembers her face plastered on paper all over Ketterdam and wonders if the words might be related to the bounty on her head.

Oh, she hopes so. That would prove to be fun.

They’re coming for you. Good. Let them try.

She nods her head in agreement with Jesper’s words. Kaz nods in approval and then jerks his chin Jesper’s way, a clear sign of dismissal. The Sharpshooter never walks into Kaz’s office after missions like this. He’s an escort, a babysitter of sorts, merely Kaz’s way of making sure she heads his way instead of making a beeline for her bed.

(Y/N) sticks her tongue out at him and Jesper blows her a kiss in response.

Lucky bastard. It’s always her that has to stay up to report. And she hates to admit it, but she’s tired, she can feel the exhaustion begin to creep on her bones and settle in. She has been up for more than thirty-seven hours at this point, and she can feel it catching up to her. Still, she knows that Kaz prefers to hear details when the information is fresh on her mind, when she can provide as much detail as possible, so she pushes through for him. She just has to wait a little while longer before crawling into her bed and passing out for the next twelve hours.

“Marbles comes bearing gifts by the way,” is the last thing the Sharpshooters says before exiting.

A smirk takes over her features, sleep, exhaustion and the new information briefly forgotten.

Kaz is going to hate it.

Lovely.

Kaz seems to sense, probably by the wicked amusement on her face, that whatever it is it’s not something he’s going to enjoy. His face twists into a scowl.

“Out with it, then.”

She pulls out the dark bracelet from her pocket as she walks towards Kaz, dangling it in front of his face when she’s close enough.

Jesper had handed them back on the way home, tossing them over as soon as she’d wiped the blood off her hands. He hadn’t said a word, but (Y/N) knew that the action had meant to snap her out of the weird haze that clouded her mind after every mission, where adrenaline still coursed through her body and all she could think about was bloodshed, fingers itching to kill and maim and fight.

(It was a thing, the haze. When taking lives there was nothing but calmness and bloodthirst, the restlessness that always lingered beneath her skin subsiding as soon as a weapon was placed in her hand and orders were given. And as soon as the mission was done, as soon as the target was neutralized and she’d efficiently fulfilled her orders, fogginess followed. Her mind became clouded, as if somewhat trapped in a loop of violence, every nerve on edge and ready for any threat to emerge.

She was brought up as a killing machine, a child soldier, the best out of all the assassins produced by the Silent Blades, her father’s pride. She was ruthless, wretched, or at least those had been the words used to describe her when she’d been a child. She supposed the dissociative state she slipped into was normal when considering her upbringing, some sort of psychological shield that kept her from going insane.

She never spoke about it, but the Crows somehow knew. They often eased her out of it, knowing full well that when trapped in that state she had not ounce of thought and only muscle memory to rely on, which made her infinitely more lethal.)

Jesper’s actions had worked like a charm. With something else to do with her hands, the fogginess had ruptured. She’d absentmindedly tied one of the bracelets on her own wrist, fingers playing with the edges of the other.

It’s that bracelet, the one on her arm, that Kaz glances at now. It’s brief, but for a split second the scowl etched on his face softens and something that she can’t quite catch passes through his eyes. It’s gone before (Y/N) can even begin to process it.

“Best friends have to have matching bracelets, don’t they?” And if she wonders about it later, she’ll blame it on the exhaustion, but the words come out softer than she intends them to. A jest, but not any less truthful.

Kaz’s face morphs and she gets a fleeting glimpse at that flicker in his eyes again. His scowl melts into something a tad bit gentler, the look contrasted by the aggressiveness with which he snatches the bracelet from her hand, “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He means that and his tone has enough bite to make her cackle.

Amusing.

Placing her hands on her back pockets and shrugging, she responds, “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kaz snorts, “Go take a bath.” He dismisses her, turning around and making his way to his desk, “Reports can wait until you don’t look half dead.”

That’s unexpected.

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows, “You’re being nice.” It isn’t often that Kaz forgoes a report after a mission. He might’ve been more touched by the gift than he’s letting on.

“It’s for my own sake,” he retorts, not turning around, “you just stink and it’s making me nauseous.”

She does have a lingering smell of blood and sea water.

“Everything in this damned place stinks,” she responds. I know you’re lying, she’s saying, I know you’re being kind.

“Get out.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” (Y/N) mocks, walking out of his office.

She sleeps a full day after that, everyone knowing better than to bother her unless they want to lose to their head, and when she reports to Kaz the next morning the three words she’d heard from the man slip her mind. (Y/N) doesn’t remember them until a few weeks later when she’s tied to the ceiling by her wrists, face bleeding.

Now, she must admit, she’s impressed. No one had ever tried kidnapping before. There’d been more attempts on her life than she could even count; stabs resulting in blood being shed, never one drop of hers, poison that she had either swallowed down like a champ or identified before a single lick of it touched her tongue, because being raised an assassin meant she’d been trained in the art of toxins and she’d built up tolerance to pretty much every substance in existence, and that one time they’d tried to shot at her, which only resulted in (Y/N) stealing Jesper’s gun and placing a bullet right between the perpetrator’s eyebrows. All in good fun. Kidnapping was new, but only because those who had attempted on her life had never tried joining forces, all of them wishing to keep the financial reward for themselves.

Torturing, that was new, too.

She could endure, of course she could, she’d been trained for this. That did not mean she’d missed it.

The poster had stated she was wanted dead or alive and it was clear that the man in front of her wanted to take his time. It was personal, she could tell by the brunt of his hits and the delicate precision of his cuts. Had she been anyone else, she would’ve been begging for it to stop, but (Y/N) was a Silent Blade, even if she’d left the organization and that life behind, and she would never break.

The only reason she was in this situation was because the assailants had gotten the upper hand. They’d used one of (Y/N)’s street urchins— a little girl with piggy tails and two missing teeth, one of the ones who gathered information for (Y/N) and traded it for food and shelter —as leverage. And time had apparently made her soft because she’d hesitated. The brief second of doubt had been everything they’d needed.

Them subduing her didn’t mean she’d gone down without a fight. There’s been five of them in the beginning. Only three remained. She’d plucked one guy’s eye out, going deep sever the optic nerve and cause brain damage, and she’d ripped the other’s ear with her teeth before slitting his throat. She’d managed to stab one of the three men remaining with a dagger before being injected with some unknown serum. It hadn’t knocked her out, not the way it was supposed to if the incredulous look on her kidnapper’s face was any indication, but it had drugged her enough to allow them to overpower her.

And now here she was, slowly bleeding out.

“I intent on handing your corpse to them and claiming the reward.” He’s been quiet for so long that (Y/N) had almost forgotten his presence. She doesn’t raise her head, only looks up. It’s hard to do so when her right eye is swollen shut. “But they never specified the conditions it had to be in.”

The man has his back towards her, fingers running through a box of tools. He’s used almost all of them on her by this point. Amateur. A skilled torturer knows to go slow, to drag it out, to choose a weapon and stick to it until the person is weeping and screaming.

“It was my brother that you killed.”

That sparks her interest, a smirk taking over her bloodied lips. She looks at him, dead in the eye.

“Which one?” she taunts.

The sound of her voice, still strong despite the blood loss, startles him. He freezes for a split second, hand over a wooden baseball bat.

“What?”

She snickers, blood dripping into the floor. “I’ve killed a lot of men, darling.” The way he seethes, fury filling his features, amuses her. “So which one was your brother?”

“You had him swallow his own testicles.”

“Oh, him,” she nods her head in appreciation. “Can’t say I regret it.”

Now he’s fuming, hand shaking so badly he almost loses the grip on the bat. If (Y/N) looks close enough she can see the resemblance. Same brown hair, same nose, same crazy look in their eyes.

“I’ll make you regret it.”

“You can certainly try,” she concedes mockingly. Because, honestly, there’s nothing he can do to her that she hasn’t already withstood.

There’s a raging roar and then a burst of pain. A hit to her abdomen, which no doubt bruised a rib, and then two to her back. But it’s okay, she thinks to herself as she wheezes and coughs, trying to regain air in her lungs, she knows how to play this game and how to win it. Keep him talking, keep him angry, let him think he has the upper hand, keep him from noticing how she’s preparing to break free.

“I wonder…” he murmurs, bat dragging behind him. “You’re not particularly remarkable.” She scoffs as he begins circling her, a tactic supposed to drive the prisoner into panic at the lack of vision of their assailant. Her heart doesn’t stutter. She’s trained to identify people and objects by sound not sight. She knows precisely where he is, even if she can’t see him. “So, what makes you interesting enough for the Bastard to keep so close?”

She grins, feral and with bloodstained teeth.

“Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”

His face does not change but his step falters. “You cannot believe me stupid enough to fall for that.”

“You were stupid enough to tie my wrists with handcuffs,” is all she replies before dislocating her own thumbs and releasing herself from the shackles.

She hits the floor hard, body swaying for a second. Her hands are numb, nerve endings frayed. It hits her, now that she has to keep herself outfight, just how much blood she’s lost. The edges of her vision blur.

There’s a cut on her thigh, it bleeds heavily. Her back is all flayed skin. Breathing is hard.

It doesn’t matter. She only needs four fingers and half a mind to hold and use a dagger. She shakes the dizziness off.

He comes at her, but she’s expecting that. Sidestepping him is easy, kicking him in the back as he passes by even more so.

“You’re not much without your friends and a syringe full of drugs, are you?” she stumbles a little as she taunts him. Time is not on her side, she knows this. He’s cut deep in her arms and legs, no major artery touched, but with precision to give her a slow and prolonged death. She’s been steadily bleeding for hours.

(Y/N) has to end this. Soon.

He comes for her again, and she dodges, punching him right in the gut. He feigns left and she moves away, noticing too late the fist that impacts with the right side of her face. Despite the pain, she manages to stomp his toes and slam her knee against his balls.

That does it.

A high whimper leaves his mouth and as he struggles for air, she backs up. Keeping her eyes on him, her right arm reaches back to the toolbox. She knows what she’s grasped as soon as her fingers graze it.

“Say hi to your brother for me.”

The scalpel lodges itself right on his carotid artery.

“Nice,” she mumbles in delirium as she hears him choke to death. It’d been a majestic throw.

The adrenaline is gone in a second. (Y/N) stumbles backwards, barely aware of all the tools scattering around in the floor. She lets herself rest against the wall, slowly sitting down on the floor.

She’s going to die.

It doesn’t matter that she’s managed to get rid of that poor excuse of a man. She’s too injured. She knows.

(Y/N) isn’t scared. She’s tangled with Death for a long time, and as cold begins to creep in and the edges of her vision blacken, it feels like welcoming an old friend. It feels like getting what she has always had coming for her.

The tips of her fingers begin to tingle, her body’s desperate effort at keeping her heart pumping. Her ears are ringing, hard enough that when shouts begin all that she can hear are muffled sounds.

Then someone’s touching her face. She greets the warmth.

“Fuck,” she hears as she tumbles forward, her forehead landing on a collarbone. Jesper grasps the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. At least, she thinks it’s him. Her brain feels mushy, but her nose has never failed her, and it smells like gunpowder and mint.

She’s laid down on the ground gently, probably to inspect her injuries before moving her.

“You’re going to be okay,” the Sharpshooter reassures her, but his voice is trembling. He’s scared. She must look worse than she feels, and she feels like she’s been attacked by a group of Heartrenders.

She wants to speak, to tell him it’s okay, but opening her mouth feels like an impossible task.

“Save your energy.” That’s Kaz. His voice is steady, but she can feel the underlying tension, the worry in his words. “You are not dying tonight.” And he says it with so much conviction, like he would hold her soul with his own hands to keep it anchored to her body, like he would keep her heart beating with pure willpower.

Her eyes look for him, but she catches sight of something else entirely.

“You’re wearing it.”

She must make no sense, words slurred, but Kaz understands. His whispered words are the last thing she hears before slipping out of consciousness.

“How couldn’t I?”

Then there’s nothing. She loses track of time. She comes back to her body from time to time, able to hear words but incapable of pinpointing the speaker. She’s floating, but there’s pain and aching.

“…too much blood, I don’t know…”

“…keep her alive.”

“I am trying!”

“Don’t try, do it.”

“…punctured lung, broken ribs…”

“…don’t know how she’s still alive.”

When she comes to the first thing that she feels is blinding pain. Everything hurts. Her muscles complain as she sits up. She clenches her jaw to keep the tears at bay. The worst is already over, she will not cry.

“Don’t move,” (Y/N) freezes at the command, her head snapping towards the voice. “Nina stitched you back together, I doubt she would be very happy to see all her hard work ruined.”

She gently eases herself back on the bed, fingertips running over her bandaged stomach. She can feel the edges of the stitches poking through it. It must’ve been bad, then, if she required stitches to keep the wound together. Usually, she’s a fast healer, a result of all the training she’d gone through.

“How long?” Her voice is raspy after not being used. Her throat hurts, which might be related to the way she was choked to the verge of unconsciousness several times while held hostage.

“Four nights.”

Bad then.

(Y/N) can feel Kaz’s eyes on her, assessing. She meets his stare, and it’s when she’s looking at him that a vague memory comes back.

Her eyes drift down to his wrist.

The twin bracelet to her own, the one she keeps tightly wrapped around her wrist, as if part of her own skin, greets her.

“You are wearing it.”

Kaz frowns in confusion, until he follows her line of sight. He looks away, hand clenching and unclenching over the head of his cane.

“Even after almost dying you’re still insufferable,” he responds.

But when he looks back at her, (Y/N) can see everything in his eyes.

How could I not, he’d said, and he’d meant it. If friendship was something that could bloom in a wretched place like Ketterdam, Kaz was her best friend and she was his, even if they’d never discussed it, even if they would never admit it. You’re the steady order to my unrelenting chaos, she thought to herself, someone I would follow to the end of the world.

He nods, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her.

“Rest.” That’s an order, one she has no intention of disobeying.

“Sure thing,” she responds as Kaz makes his way towards the door, “bestie.”

(Y/N) can feel the amusement in his words, “Absolutely insufferable.”

She smirks, toying with the ends of the bracelet’s strings.

(Y/N) never takes it off. Neither does Kaz.

[celestelunia]

I’ve been loving your fics so far! And I was wondering if you could write Jamil being poisoned/hit with a love potion and being all over gn!reader and they’re just kinda like really flustered (turns out the live potion only works on who ever the person already loves) so gn!reader confesses to Jamil once he’s back to normal! Ty!

Aw! Thank you so much! I'm glad you've been enjoying them! I've been having fun writing them lol

Sorry this took a while. Been slowly making my way through the list, but this is my first Jamil ask! I hope it came out okay and that you like it!

Warnings: None. Reader is GN.

"This....is just so weird...." You said as you sat on a cushion in the common area of Scarabia. A pair of arms were wrapped around your waist from behind as Jamil chin rested against your shoulder as he cuddled against your neck gently, causing you to blush.

"Ahahaha! I think it's cute! I've never seen him like this before." Kalim laughed with a grin as he placed his hands on the back of his head.

You didn't get all the details, but one moment you had walked into Scarabia to see your crush, and the next, he was suddenly all over you, showering you with affection.

Needless to say, you almost fainted on the spot at the sudden onslaught of attention from your long-time crush. According to Kalim, he had mentioned something had gone wrong in potions, and Jamil was hit in the face with a puff of dust and magic due to the mini explosion that was triggered by the event. Professor Crewel had mentioned that it would wear off in a couple of hours and to just look after him till it does.

Jamil had acted like nothing was wrong at first, and he seemed like his usual self, so Kalim figured whatever the professor might have been worried about was just a mistake.

That was until you walked into the dorm, and Jamil's personality did a 180! He turned into some kind of love sick puppy who couldn't keep his hands off of you.

"T-This isn't like him at all! I'm sure he is just being this way to me since I was the first one he saw when I came over! This isn't fai-ahhh!" You yelped when you felt Jamil warm lips against the side of your neck as he gave it a small kiss. Turning bright red, you had tried to free yourself, only to have your crush tighten his hold against you. This was torture!!

"Hmmm." Kalim hummed softly in thought as he paid no mind to your struggles. "I don't think that's right. He was with me the whole time and even saw a couple of students on our way back to the dorm, and nothing happened." He explained before pulling out his phone to check something. "We were trying to make a certain potion in class, but because I added the wrong ingredients, it completely changed the contents of the potion."

"So this is your fault?!" You yelled as you pointed at the housewarden who just laughed.

"Yep! I'm sorry!" Kalim grinned as he looked back at his phone.

With a pout, you huffed before looking back at Jamil, who was still happily cuddling against your shoulder. "This...isn't real, though. He wouldn't be like this with me if it wasn't for that potion..."

At hearing your words, Kalim looked up from his phone. He knew about your crush on his best friend, and you two often talked a lot when you were feeling down and frustrated about the situation. If he was being honest, Kalim thought you were perfect for Jamil. He needed someone like you in his life to balance him out. The housewarden paused for a moment as he debated on bringing this up. He really wanted you two to figure things out on your own, but maybe a little push wouldn't hurt, right?

"That's not entirely true." Kalim said as he watched you turn to look at him. "He only started acting this way the moment you showed up. The spell on this potion just amplifies feelings that already existed inside someone." He said with a warm smile.

At his words, your eyes widen. Was that true? If it was, that would mean...

At that moment, your whole face turned red as a puff of smoke appeared above your head as you were suddenly overloaded with this information.

Kalim grinned as he stood up from his spot in front of you. "He should be back to normal in an hour or so. Keep watching over him for me! Thanks, Y/N!" He said before heading off to give you two some alone time..

"Nooo! Don't you dare leave!" You had yelled, but it was too late as Kalim had disappeared somehow. How was he that quick!?

Over the next hour, you had managed to drag Jamil to his room, but he didn't make it easy. Having him being this clingy was killing your heart. As time went on, you noticed how Jamil was starting to get a bit woozy as you managed to get him on his bed in time before he seemed to fall asleep. Good. Maybe this was a sign the potion was exiting his system.

With a sigh, you pulled up a chair to the side of his bed as you waited for Jamil to wake up. At least now you had a moment to gather your thoughts.

If Kalim was correct, then that meant that Jamil felt the same towards you as you did him. Just the thought alone made your heart race! While Jamil did give you some special treatment from time to time, it wasn't really enough for you to figure out his feelings. He was a man who kept his cards close to his chest, after all.

Maybe you could be brave and finally open up to him about your feelings...?

After a moment, Jamil let out a groan as he slowly opened his eyes. Noticing the ceiling of his bedroom, he sighed before placing his hand against his forehead. He had a bit of a headache. What the hell happened? The last thing he could recall was doing potions with Kalim...

"You're awake. How are you feeling?"

At the familiar voice, Jamil's head snapped to the side to see you sitting next to his bed. Why were you here!?

"Y/N?" Jamil called out as he sat up in his bed. "What are you doing here?"

"I was asked to look after you. Do you remember anything?" You asked as you watched Jamil carefully.

At those words, Jamil frowned slightly, not liking how you asked. Why did he feel like something happened that he was missing? He didn't do something embarrassing in front of you, did he!?

Hearing his phone ding the vice housewarden reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Noticing it was a text from Kalim, he opened it to see a photo attached that made him almost drop his phone...

It was a picture of him with his arms wrapped around Y/N as he was basically cuddling with them from behind. 

What happened!? Was this real!? Feeling his face heat up, Jamil put his phone down before placing one of his hands over his face in embarrassment.

You, on the other hand, just watched as Jamil checked his phone before turning bright red. As you went to speak, you felt your phone vibrate, and as you pulled it out, you saw a message from Kalim.

"Jamil should be back to normal by now. I believe in you! You got this!" Was the text he had sent. In that moment, you got the feeling Jamil had received something from the housewarden as well.

"Jamil." You had called out as you got your courage together. When you saw him about to speak, you held up your hand to stop him. You were worried if he said anything that you might lose your nerve. "I like you." You had managed to get out.

At your words, Jamil froze up for a second before he suddenly turned his head towards you. His eyes full of surprise.

"I like you, Jamil." You repeated. "I know you have a lot on your shoulders, but it doesn't change that you're an amazing person. You're smart, a great dancer, and an amazing cook! I really love everything about you."

Feeling his cheeks warm up more, Jamil leaned his head back to look up at his ceiling. To think you would be the one to confess first. He really needed to step up his game...

"H-how about you stay over tonight for dinner? I'll make something special. Just for the two of us." He said before he looked back over at you with a grin. "Think of it as my way for saying sorry that you had to confess first."

At the offer, you blinked before you felt like your heart was going to explode. "Y-you really feel the same?" You whispered in surprise.

Jamil turned as he threw his legs over the side of his bed. "For a long time, but I kept finding excuses to not face this feelings. I shouldn't have put you through all of that. That potion mishaps just opened my eyes a bit more." He said as he made a mental note to give Kalim a lecture about being more careful in the future. He normally wasn't this open and honest, but he owed you that much after what he did to you. Maybe it was okay to be selfish for once.

"Come on." Jamil said as he gently poked your forehead before holding out his hand to you. "Let me treat you like royalty today."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you stood up and took Jamil's hand. "Just be your normal self." You said happily as it felt like a weight had been lifted off of you.

To think a small mishap like this would work in your favor? You would have to make sure to thank Kalim later.

[helen-with-an-a]

Short but Mighty

Hi. So this is a request I got and I absolutely loved writing it. It's a little on the long side but I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, just imagine no one is injured in either team and it’s Arsenal not Chelsea against Barca in the UWCL this year. Another side note is that I am 5’6/5’7 so I don’t really have much of a frame of reference for being short/shorter but I hope I’ve done it justice 🩷

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Description: R is short and a little angry

Word Count: 4.8k

“She’s so angry because her attitude has been compressed into that small body”

“Have you ever noticed that in every friend group, the shortest one is usually the craziest?”

“Short girls are mean because they are closer to hell”

“If you think she’s short, you should see her patience”

“The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit”

“Like a chihuahua”

“And though she be but little, she is fierce”

You had heard it all. Even Shakespeare had commented on it. Every comment about short and angry people ever made – you had heard it all. But the thing was, you weren’t short. You were 5 foot 3 inches. 160cm. The average height for women in the UK – you would know; you googled it to make sure. But for some reason, every person on your team was a bloody giant – towering over you, making you look even shorter. Except for Aitana – she was the only one who truly understood your pain.

At first, it bothered you. Growing up, you were constantly being leant on by your friends or patted on the head; your coaches affectionately called you ‘short stuff’. It really, really pissed you off. You saw players on the field consider you a joke of an opponent as you stepped onto the field. So, you started to build muscle, lifting heavier, adjusting your diet, and altering your lifestyle as much as possible while remaining healthy. When you made your senior debut at just 17, you could lift well over 1.5 of your body weight. You also channelled that muscle into your speed, earning a reputation for being the fastest on the pitch. On paper, a defending midfielder of your height was laughable, but when the challengers on the pitch saw your name in the Starting XI, they would quake with fear.

Despite all the comments, they were right about your supposed anger. You don’t know whether it was you being unafraid to utilise your body on the pitch or something else entirely, but you were frequently topping the table with the number of yellow cards at the end of the season. Personally, you believed the refs had a vendetta against you; your reputation preceded you, so they felt it was necessary to uphold it – often giving you cards for something that would have been just a caution for anything else. You did pride yourself on never receiving a straight red (only double-yellows) – something that Lucy frequently reminded you; it wasn’t that impressive as many people didn’t receive straight reds. You weren’t an aggressive player by any means. As soon as that whistle went, you were the first to offer a helping hand. You had never injured anyone – ever. That was something else you were proud of. Whilst you often got yellows for the tackle, you never left any lasting marks. Were you physical? Yes. Were you aggressive? No.

It was the only thing people had spoken about in weeks. Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Walsh vs. Williamson; Russo, Lacasse and Blackstenius vs. Leon, Bronze and Batlle; Little vs. Putellas; Codina vs her old club; Paralluelo, Pina and Caldentey vs Wubben-Moy, Catley and Fox; Y/S/N vs. McCabe. That was the big one – two of the most carded players in their leagues battling it out for a chance to snatch the other’s chance of a Champions League title. Alexia had been pestering you since the draw was made about your behaviour. She wouldn’t hesitate to bench you if you were acting out. Her tactics were based on negative reinforcement. It hadn’t worked – all her threats, lectures, and pressures were rendered null because you knew how physical these matches would be. You knew Jona would put on the most physical players, at least to start with.

Lucy, on the other hand, relied on positive reinforcement. As your girlfriend, she was always in your corner, especially on the pitch when a card was lifted above your head. But she didn’t like how often you were suspended or how often your abilities were outshone by the number of yellows next to your name. Your technical prowess was often overlooked by commentators and fans because of the cards.

“You know,” Lucy started, her fingertips brushing your neck as she pulled your hair out of her way. You were standing at the kitchen counter, looking at a recipe on your phone as you planned out your tea.

“What do I know, gorgeous?” you teased, tilting your head up to look at her. Your hands came to rest on top of hers on your waist.

“I think we should set up a sticker chart system or something. What do you think?” She mused, starting an assault on your neck.

“N-no marks, my love,” you stuttered out automatically but leaning back into her body anyway.

“I know.” You could feel the grin against your skin. “But you didn’t answer my question, lovely.” She nipped at your earlobe gently.

“Stickers … what for?” You turned around in her arms, coming to look at her. She didn’t stop her attack, her strong hands coming to angle your head so she had more access to your jaw. You let your eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feeling of her mouth on you.

“As a way to … combat?... your little card problem.” That sobered you right up. You pushed her way and raised an unamused eyebrow at her.

“My card problem?” You snarked.

“Alexia has been on my arse about getting you to … calm down … during matches,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. She moved to put her hands back on your hips, but you stopped her with a hand on her chest.

“So, you went with a sticker chart?” you asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, Lucy.” You never called her Lucy unless you were angry at her; she was always ‘gorgeous’ or ‘my love’, just like you were always ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty girl’ to her.

“I know you’re not, pretty girl.” She cupped your face with her hand. “I think I phrased myself badly. I’m sorry.” Her thumb moved methodically against your cheek, an action that has always calmed you. “How about a little reward system?” She grinned cheekily at you as you narrowed your eyes. “For every match without a card, I’ll treat you?” She proposed.

“I don’t need a-” you started, still annoyed that your girlfriend and your captain felt it necessary to set up a system to manage your behaviour.

“Alexia has been on my arse about this for weeks. She’s serious about benching you, lovely.” She interrupted. You sighed. You were well aware of what Alexia considered unacceptable in the Barca team – and the number of yellow cards you received was one of them. “So, what do you think? I think it’s a win-win situation if you ask me. Alexia will finally back off and not be a minute away from a heart attack, and you get …” she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “Whatever your heart desires.” You could see her reasoning. Judging by the vein in Alexia’s forehead, she wasn’t coping too well with the idea that you would face McCabe in a few weeks. And you get weekly treats if you avoid yellow cards.

“Whatever I want?” You double-checked. Lucy could see you were already agreeing to her idea.

“Whatever. You. Want. Pretty girl.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.

“So, if I wanted a fancy date night at that place in town?” Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of dates where you had to dress up all fancy – she thought it wasn’t an accurate and complete representation of your relationship. She loved taking you to smaller, more casual restaurants where you could relax, order something to-go, or just cook a nicer meal at home. But Mapi had shown you a place she was planning to take Ingrid for their anniversary, and you had fallen in love – begging Lucy to go on a date there with you. What you didn’t know she was saving it for when she proposed – the ring hidden with her Euro medal buried in the depths of the cupboard in your spare room.

“Whatever you want.” She smiled at your shocked expression.

“Or if I wanted a spa day at home on our day off?” you asked, checking how far she would be willing to go. She would much rather do something on your day off to keep her body moving a little, whereas you would rather lounge on the couch, catching up on your show.

“Whatever you want.” She repeated, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Or…” you tried to think of something she would say no to. “If I asked you to put on my old United jersey? And take a photo in it? And post it on social media?” Your request was ridiculous, but you knew it was something she would never, ever say no to. You had played for United while she was at City, moving to Lyon together, where your relationship had budded into what it is now, before returning to your respective clubs. You were friends before Lyon, having played with each other on the England squad for years, but moving to the new city together had led to something magical. The rival was a constant joke between you, often tuning in to the Derby’s when your schedule allowed for it – her and Keira on one couch, you and Ona on the other – all clad in your particular colours and fighting for the right to brag.

“Whatever you want.” She sighed but loved the fact that it brought that big, wide grin of yours to your face.

“What about if I asked for control?” You wiggled your eyebrow and scanned her body appreciatively, indicating precisely what you hinted at. You could see her eyes flicker slightly, making you think you had found the thing she wouldn’t do as your reward. Lucy loved being in control, and you didn’t mind letting her do it. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, she handed over the ropes (figuratively and literally) to you.

“What. Ever. You. Want,” she said lowly, silencing any more of your questions with a passionate kiss.

This was it. The big day. The first leg of the Champions League semi-final. Arsenal vs. Barcelona. McCabe vs. Y/S/N. You had been good to your word – the reward system was working well. So far, Lucy had treated you to a day at the beach, a nice meal, a new set of lingerie, and a day trip with you to Tarragona on a day off. Four treats for your four matches without a yellow. It would have been more, but you picked up a yellow card during your match with Real Madrid. But this … this was your big test.

“Todas mantienen la cabeza,” Alexia said just before you all left the changing rooms. She said it to everyone, but you know it was aimed at you.

“What do you want your reward to be, pretty girl?” Lucy asked you as you performed your final pre-match ritual (a quick roll of deodorant, a pump of breath spray, and a spritz of perfume—you’re welcome, everyone on the field).

“Not sure, I’ve got an idea, but I might wait for the final for that one,” you winked cheekily at her, giving her an indication of what you were insinuating. She sighed, shaking her head at you.

“Later,” she promised as she guided you into the tunnel.

This match was not going to plan for you. Ona and Pina had already picked up yellows for dissent, and you were only 30 minutes into the match. You were on your best behaviour – even going so far as not to tackle Katie when you would usually have. You could see how much less stress Lucy was under with every game you played where you didn’t have your name on the card list. You weren’t behaving for yourself – you couldn’t care less if you were benched (slight exaggeration, but the sentiment remained). You were doing it for Lucy; her frown lines were easing somewhat; her muscles were less tense; she was sleeping much better. You hadn’t realised your actions added much to her plate.

And then Katie left a studs-up tackle on Lucy and didn’t get carded or even a foul. You were near her when it happened. Lucy was running down the wing with the ball at her feet, you were dropping back a little, allowing her the space to make a cross to an awaiting Patri and Aitana. Katie’s yellow boots appeared from nowhere and clipped her ankles – not even making an attempt to get the ball. It was an obvious card, yet the ref motioned to carry on whilst Lucy was on her knees, clutching at her ankle, her eyes scrunched shut at the pain.

Eventually, the whistle was blown when it was apparent that Lucy wasn’t standing up. You crouched at her side, a hand coming to rub at her back.

“Do you need the medics, my love?” You asked, the tone gentle in comparison to the fury you were filled with.

“Just … gimme a minute,” she gasped. You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your hand resting on her lower back in silent support.

“Estás bien? Está ella bien? Necesitamos a los fisios?” Alexia gushed as she came to your side, a concerned Patri and Marta joining her.

“Ella esta bien,” you said, your words supported by Lucy’s actions as she moved to stand up. You briefly scanned her, nodding to yourself as you confirmed she was fine.

The switch in you was instant. McCabe needed to pay for that. And if the ref wasn’t going to do it, you would.

“Don’t,” Lucy said at the same time as Alexia uttered “no”. You just waved them off, smiling innocently at them as you set up for the corner kick.

The incident that got you the card was well deserved. You had only 2 minutes left of the half – not including injury time – and Katie was starting a last-minute Arsenal press. You were winning comfortably at 3 – 0, but you knew Arsenal would come out hard in the next half; they weren’t called ‘second halfsenal’ for nothing. Could you have gone for a clean tackle? Probably. Could you have just tackled her in general? Yes. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as watching her fly to the ground. She ran full speed down the wing, not looking where her defenders were. You timed your run well, bracing your body as she slammed into you. You had bothered to stick out your leg to make it look like you were aiming for the ball, but everyone, on and off the pitch, knew you were going for revenge. She clattered to the ground in a pile of red and white, and a torrent of Irish-accented swears erupted from her.

You were immediately faced with an angry Aussie. Caitlin shoved your shoulders as she demanded retribution for you. You lifted your hands innocently.

“I was going for the ball,” you said, shrugging a little. You could see the referee approaching, Alexia looking furious at you, and Lucy shaking her head. Still, you could see her smiling – finding the situation at least somewhat amusing. “I was going for the ball,” you repeated to the ref, ignoring the shouts from the Arsenal girls. “See, she’s fine.” You gestured to a now-standing McCabe. It didn’t help your case; the yellow square was lifted above your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Fucking short-arse bitch” you heard McCabe mutter as you all walked away, ready to finish this half.

“And yet, I still put you on the ground,” you smirked at her, letting Lucy drag you away.

Halftime was full of Alexia's lecture. You looked to Jona to see if he would intervene, but he just shrugged. When he saw Lucy go down from a dodgy tackle, he expected nothing less from you.

“Prometiste que te portarías lo mejor posible.”

“She’s still walking, isn’t she?” You weren’t about to apologise for this. This was your style of play; she knew that when you joined the team; Barca knew it when they signed you.

“Qué dije de los amarillos? Te pedí que no los consiguieras. Y que haces?” She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “Necesitas empezar a actuar de forma más adulta al respecto. No necesitas ser cardada por todo. Recibir tarjetas todo el tiempo es muy inmaduro. No tienes respeto”

“Enough, Alexia.” You interrupted. Yes, she had somewhat of a right to be angry at you, but calling you immature? Saying you had no respect? “I play my style of play. If the club didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have renewed my contract or signed me in the first place. If Jona has a problem with it, he would either speak to me or not play me. But they haven’t. I have renewed with Barca and Jona hasn’t even mentioned it in our one-to-ones. You are the only one who’s up my arse about this. And you’ve been pestering Lucy, too. Newsflash, she’s not my keeper, Alexia, and I am not a child; she’s my girlfriend.” You could see she was trying to interrupt you again, but you pushed through. “If you had maybe spoken to me in a way that suggested you valued me as a player and a person rather than lecturing me every chance you get, we could be in a different situation right now. But no, you have insulted me and the way I play my football, and now you have made me even more pissed off than I already was. So please, leave me alone at the moment.” You were seething. You hadn’t meant to explode at her like you did, but she had hurt your feelings one too many times about a bloody yellow card. You looked around the changing room, seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces. No one spoke to their captain like that. You didn’t dare glance at Lucy, too afraid of what you might see. You would have seen the proud expression gracing her face if you had. She had been waiting for you to detonate at Alexia; she could see it in the way you grit your teeth during every lecture, the way you took longer showers after training to destress every time Alexia had called you away to talk about your behaviour, the way you were baking more and more as a method to try to quell your anger.

You pushed your way past, banging the door heavily as you stormed back out of the tunnel. You knew the Emirates well, so there were no chances of you getting lost. A few doors down, there was a seldom-used bathroom you could hide in, but you could still hear the chatter that told you the team was in the tunnel, ready to start the second half.

The changing room was silent. You could hear a mouse sneeze if you listened carefully enough.

“Bien entonces,” it was Mapi who spoke – breaking the tension-filled silence.

“Quién se cree que ella es? Todo lo que he estado tratando de hacer es ayudarla a limpiar su juego.” Alexia was incredulous. She believed you needed to clean up your act if you were going to go far at Barca. She didn’t consider the fact that you had numerous accolades to your name, coming second in the Ballon d’Or for the past 3 years and earning yourself a Sports Personality of the Year twice.

“No, Alexia. You are in the wrong.” Lucy snapped. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Yes, she wanted you to stop getting yellow cards, but not at the expense of your style of play. She wanted the cards to stop being the only thing commentators spoke about when your name was mentioned. She wanted the world to see you as she did. “I know you meant well, but you basically asked her to stop playing in the way that makes her so unique. Imagine if someone did that to you, you’d be pretty pissed off too.” Alexia frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant – not at all. She wanted you to stop getting the yellow cards because she viewed something to be feared, not something that was just a part of playing football.

“Y ahora te has ido y la has hecho aún más enojada,” Patri laughed humourlessly. “No se sorprendan si hoy vemos un rojo, chicas,” she added as the team made their way back to the pitch.

You slipped silently out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the team as if you were just the last one to leave the changing room.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Lucy said, extending her hand to you as she lingered just out of sight of the cameras.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You squeezed her hand, letting her know you were ok.

“Please, try not to get a red,” she joked.

“If McCabe behaves, so will I,” you said seriously. She smirked at you – just the sort of thing she was expecting from you.

McCabe did not behave. It was remarkable how calm you had been, considering how riled you were during the half-time break. You had spent a lot of this second half on the floor, being a victim of harsh tackles from McCabe herself and a particular Aussie. You could see your English teammates wincing every time you went down. But you always gave as good as you got, leaving unforgiving shoves and exacting tackles just on the right side of nasty.

 It was in the 55th minute when the second incident occurred. You were genuinely going for the ball. You both jumped up for a header – you might have jumped more sideways than up, but that was neither here nor there. The slight knock you gave her made her lose her balance, landing hard on her hands and knees rather than her feet. It didn’t help that you landed perfectly upright, either. You knew how much running into you could hurt – particularly if you braced yourself (which you had been); she had been jogging backwards, unaware of your presence behind her.

“Oh, my god. I am so sorry. Are you ok?” You were genuine this time; both your national and club teammates could see it. This time, Leah was the first one to you, pulling you away by your shoulder.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” She asked, shocked by your display of aggression.

“I’m sorry, Lee. That was a complete accident.” You looked down at McCabe rolling around on the floor, gripping at her ankle. She just sighed in response. Lucy was the first of your Barca friends to reach you.

“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly.

“I know you are, lovely” Lucy squeezed your elbow gently. “But you know you’re going to get a card, right?”

“Yeh, I know.” You turned to face the ref, shocked to see Alexia pleading with her and arguing for you. You were unsurprised when her protests were waved away, and you were presented with the yellow and red squares before being shown that you had to leave the pitch. You took it graciously and headed off the pitch.

You were escorted to the changing room by an official but were left to your own devices. You showered quickly before changing into your clothes, grateful you had packed some ‘street clothes’ – just jeans and one of Lucy’s hoodies. As you heard the Emirates erupt with cheers, the idea was planted in your head. This was a Champions League semi-final, no way in hell were you missing that. So, you slipped your accreditation around your neck and left the changing room. The crowd were still celebrating the Arsenal goal as you emerged from the tunnel. You saw Jonas spot you, his eyes widening as he gestured to the Fourth Official. You nodded once and waved at Jona and the other Barca coaches before hopping over the barricade. You spotted a woman with a young girl sitting on her lap with a free seat next to her.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the seat. The woman shook her head and laughed a little as you made yourself comfortable next to her. The little girl was staring at you wide-eyed. She was wearing a little Barca jersey with her hair in two plaits, looking the epitome of cute.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, extending your hand to her. “What’s your name?” After a second of cajoling from her mother, she piped up.

“Lucie. But with an -ie not a -y.”

“Well, Lucie with an -ie not a -y, that is a very good name.” You smiled and turned back to the pitch, watching the game resume. You could tell the cameras were on you; you could see Ingrid shaking her head from the bench every time your face was displayed on the big screen.

The rest of the match was uneventful. Barca scored another two goals, bringing the final score to 5 – 1.

“So, Lucie with an -ie. Whose number’s on the back?” You nodded to her shirt.

“Lucy Bronze,” she cheered. “She’s my favourite. And we have the same name, but we spell it differently.” Lucie said with all the seriousness of a 6-year-old with something essential to tell you.

“Can I let you into a secret?” You leant down to whisper to her conspiratorially. She nodded enthusiastically. “She’s my favourite too.” Lucie looked up wide-eyed at you. “Do you want me to try and get you her shirt?” You asked. Her eyes grew even wider; you thought her head might pop off with how aggressively she was nodding. “Ok, wait here, ok. I’ll be right back.” You smiled as you hopped the barrier again, making your way onto the pitch and headed straight to Lucy. She was standing with Keira and Leah, clearly having a bit of a catch-up.

“Hello, trouble.” Keira teased as you appeared.

“Yeh, yeh.” You lightly shoved her head. “Can I have your shirt, my love?” You asked Lucy. She cocked her head at your request. “I think I might have found your biggest fan.” You smiled as you started to take your jumper off, grateful that you had put a shirt on underneath for once. Lucy laughed as she whipped off her top, thanking you as she slipped the hoodie on to keep her covered. You hugged Leah quickly before dragging Lucy away to find your new friend.

“Alexia wants to talk to you, pretty girl,” Lucy said as you pulled her back to the stands.

“Later,” you sighed, not really in the mood for anything Alexia had to say. “I want you to meet my new friend first.” You looked at her with a wide smile as you came to a stop in front of Lucie.

“Lucie with an -ie meet Lucy with a -y. Luce, this is my new friend, Lucie.” You did the unnecessary introductions.

“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the young girl. You handed the jersey off to her mum as you left them alone for a little bit, moving to interact with some of the other fans.

A little while later, familiar strong arms wrapped around your waist, distracting you from your conversation with Alessia and Lotte.

“Nosotras tenemos que ir, lovely” Lucy whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“We get it; you speak Spanish.” Alessia teased, waving goodbye to you as you sent them both a kiss.

“Vamos,” you joked as you leant back into Lucy. Although your position made it a little awkward to walk, you were too comfortable to move.

“What reward do you want this week?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you entered the tunnel.

“Reward? But I got a card, two, in fact. Or did you miss the part where McCabe ran into me twice, and you went down a player?” You looked at her, confused.

“I know, but you were so, so sexy.” She squeezed you not-too-gently. “I’ve got to treat my pretty girl when she looks that good,” she teased, but you knew by the glint in her eyes that she was deadly serious. You hummed.

“I think I might have some ideas,” you mused as you leant back on her subtly, letting your head drop back on her shoulder.

“Good,” she whispered back, littering a series of kisses to your cheek. “My short, sexy defender.” She laughed.

“Oi,” you slapped her arm. “Enough with the short jokes.”

“Never, you get so riled up by them.” She laughed at your angry expression. “And you know exactly what that does to me,” she said lowly in your ear – a lasting promise of later left unspoken in the air.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.  

word count: 2,764 

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later 

chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread

Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible. 

When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose. 

Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King. 

You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King. 

“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news. 

You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”

Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”

He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”

“I shall not marry the King—”

Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”

“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”

She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”

“You cannot distract me with fashion.”

“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”

Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought. 

A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”

“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”

“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”

Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”

Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”

Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”

“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”

Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”

You laughed. “He’s told you this?”

“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”

Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”

You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”

Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”

Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”

“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”

Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”

Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you. 

Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”

Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”

“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor. 

He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”

“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”

“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”

“Such a kind and gentle king.”

“Only for those who deserve it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”

To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else. 

The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong. 

“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”

This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”

Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”

“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”

His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”

The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem. 

“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”

You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”

Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that. 

“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”

“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”

“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”

Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”

A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words? 

Unless…

You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said. 

You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”

A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”

Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”

Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”

Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”

He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

So I saw that your requests were open, and would like to ask for a Hank McCoy (Wolverine and the X-Men) x Reader short story, if that isn't too much trouble. If that's not on the table, I'm sorry for bothering you.

YES OFC, I haven’t been writing much, and instead, I’ve been posting a lot more art so it’s about time I get back in touch with my roots 🙏🏽 (sorry this took me forever omg) pls enjoy 😘

Confessions

Hank x Mutant Reader Word Count: 2.7k Words

Mutant Power: Water Manipulation

You’ve been a member of the X-men for the last 3 years. Yes, that’s almost 3 years you’ve had a crush on Henry McCoy. 

I mean, how could you not? He was so sweet, and always put aside time for you whenever you needed it. He’s also, like, insanely hot…

While you do have a huge soft spot for Hank, everyone had given you a warm welcome when you joined of course, this team was your family. More of a family than your parents; who called you a freak for doing ‘tricks’ with their drinks.

You’d make frequent trips to the lab, knowing all too well there would be a big blue hermit waiting for you. As you did this, Hank could never bring himself to admit the embarrassing fact- but your frequent visits were the highlights of his day.

The rest of the team were amazing family to him of course, but no one checked in or visited Hank as often as you did.

Most of the time anyone usually ever came down was if they needed something; nothing this personal. It was new, but it was nice for a change. 

Your jokes with him never got old, and your smile that came with it could only make it better. The willingness you had to sit around and let him rant about the latest experiment that had him losing sleep, to even offer a hand with whatever he was struggling with. Your innocent praises glorifying how smart he was had him hiding his growing blush by looking behind a microscope. 

“I’m afraid blue blushes too, my dear…” He would joke, causing you to smile and chuckle. Ugh who loves a hot, funny nerd. You’d chuckle to yourself. 

Oh who was he kidding, Hank was head over heels. While he tries to use his brain to rationally sugar coat things, he knew he was helpless. 

Your attention to detail was incredible, you somehow remember all of his favorite things without fail. You were just so…thoughtful. 

He couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish, wanting more than your visits down to his lab, the long talks, your presence. He was going crazy.

Then, every night you’d find yourself laying awake in your thoughts, knowing he couldn’t possibly feel the same.

You’d never put your friendship on the line for something so…selfish. 

The thought ate away at your conscious, the numbing sound of your fan tuned out by your busy mind. You sigh, rolling over to your side while pulling your blanket with you. 

You don’t know why you were like this.

You and Hank are…friends. Which is fine- even though it hurts. You are fine with it, and you’ve been fine for the past 3 years.

…for the most part anyway. 

♡ ♡ ♡

You were now hanging out with Hank in his lab, legs dangling over the edge as you talked to each other. Something about a new opera showing happening in town.

Suddenly, you hear Xavier telepathically call for the rest of the X-Men to meet him in the control room, suited up. Must be a mission.

You were informed the Jaggernaut had escaped custody, again.

All X-Men that were on stand-by were now assigned on this task. The team consisted of you, Hank, Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and of course Storm. Stacked team if you say so yourself.

Everyone was in the Blackbird with the sole goal of neutralizing the Jaggernaut before he caused severe harm. 

Cyclops was put in charge, giving direct orders as he looked to you and Ororo. “I need you and Storm to direct him towards us, we need to keep him separated from civilians. Meaning I need a tall wall of water, Storm you freeze it making sure he won’t be able to get through.” 

You both looked to one another with nod. Scott then turns around to Hank who was piloting the jet. “Hank you go with them and watch from above and make sure things don’t get to out of hand. If they do we need your strength to counter-attack.” 

Hank replies with a “on it” before tilting the jet to left, bringing the stealth instrument closer to the designated location. 

“Logan you’re taking the wheel while those three get dropped down. Everyone else is with me.” Scott said finally while Hank clicked some buttons before switching with Logan. The bottom hatch of the plane opened up, allowing you, Storm, and Beast to exit. 

Storm flew to her position in the air, leaving you and Hank free falling towards the ground. Hank turned to look at you expectantly, blue hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You chuckle. You outstretched your arms towards a nearby pond you spotted earlier. Pulling your hands back to your chest in a stream-like manner, a large funnel of water shot out towards you and Hank. 

You grabbed Hank’s arm as the funnel reached you, changing the water into a shape similar to a slide with your free hand. You surfed down the water, holding onto Hank making sure he kept up- and knowing him, it was also preventing him from falling off.

As you neared the ground, you spun the water into a wide spiral to slow down your momentum for an easy landing. 

“I’m still impressed you can do that with your hands.” Hank comments as you reach the ground, earning an amused huff from you. “Well it took some practice,” You trail off, your eyes now looking at his crazy wind blown hair. 

“Actually, I’m more impressed your hair can take that shape…” You snort, biting on ur fist to hold in your laugh. It looked like he had an insane cowlick…well, maybe if the cow had 4 tongues.

“…what?” He said before quickly bringing up a hand to his hair. While he was busy fixing his crazed hair, you spot Storm flying over.

“I’ve located the Juggernaut, he’s down the street!” She briefly informs you before taking off, flying further down the street. 

“Right right, back to business.” You say, waving an arm around yourself to recollect your water. Hank takes off, leaping after Ororo as you ride your stream of water. 

You hear loud commotion around your surroundings the further you went, hopefully you arrived in time. You spot the Juggernaut on the street, wildly flipping cars as if he were in a mad rampage. One was now launched and flying in midair- towards you, specifically.  

You expertly weave around it, spinning upside down in doing so. Before he can flip anymore cars you jump, using all surrounding water to form a wall as Scott instructed. 

You hear a crack of thunder overhead as you land, the air chilling and the clouds growing darker. With a strong gust of wind, the walls you made froze over. You see Storm fly into view along with the rest of the X-Men behind you.

Beast jumps onto a light post, swinging on the end before propelling himself onto the large wall of ice.

The Juggernaut’s actions were now solely limited to facing the X-Men head on. Realizing this, he began charging with full force towards the rest of the team.

“Get his helmet off!!” Cyclops orders before bringing two fingers to his visor, firing off his laser beams.

Night Crawler bamfs around the brute, landing on his shoulders for brief moments, attempting to unlatch the dome.

You shape your water into a whip, ready to attack if the villain closes in. You see Storm raise her hands, calling down thunder as lightning begins to target the Jaggernaut.

You even see Jean pressing her temple with two fingers, using her telepathy with the other outstretched hand to slow down the pursuer.

He wavered just barely under her prowess, the strong bolts only slowing him down slightly before Wolverine decides it’s time he steps in.

With a growl, Logan leaps towards him with his adimantium claws extended before being swatted away by the Juggernaut’s large hand.

Not a moment later he grabs onto Nightcrawler and tosses him aside as well, throwing him on top of Wolverine.

The X-Men were losing options, and fast.

You had to do something.

You swing your water whip from underneath the Juggernaught before quickly whipping it back against his head, effectively tripping him and causing him to topple toward.

Before he could regain his footing completely, you call back all your water to blast him with as much force as you could muster.

And…It was working! He was regressing in distance.

…Until he took a step.

And then another.

And another.

It wasn't long before he began fully charging toward you.

Your concentrated expression quickly fell to one filled with fear and disbelief. “Watch out!” You heard Jean, Scott, and Cyclops warn in unison.

Their cries were all in vain, a large hand splashing out of the water had taken hold of your face. You felt your feet lift off the ground as you were directly dangling in the air, at the mercy of an unstoppable force. In this position, the Jaggernaught could easily crush your skull if he so pleased.

“I will find Xavier. And I will make him pay.” The brute speaks as his grip on your head steadily tightens, your chest burning as you screamed in sheer horror at the increasing pressure.

From above, Hank was almost hesitant to give away his position as the others before you attacked- he knew they could hold their own. But watching you face the Juggernaught head-on…Seeing how your life was in such jeopardy, hearing your screams, Hank had no second thoughts about intervening and saving you.

With a distant roar, you hear Beast come down on the Juggernaut. He releases you, but at the cost of you falling; and of course- hitting your head on the pavement.

Your head began pounding, ears ringing as the corners of your vision grew fuzzy with dark spots. All you could see was a flurry of blue viciously wrestling with a large brownish blob. More figures rushed into the picture before a redhead precluded your vision, concern written all over her face.

“Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes and just listen to my voice…“ Her words began to fade out as the black dots in your vision clouded the world around you.

Your head rolled to the side, your closing eyes finding the blue figure before your heavy eyelids inevitably shut.

Hank.

♡ ♡ ♡

You slowly awoke to a steady beeping of a monitor nearby, your eyes softly fluttering open. Looking up to the ceiling, you recognized it as the flat cement ceiling of Hank’s Lab.

Before you could get up, you felt the intense throbbing pain coming from the back of your head. Had you really hit your head that hard?

Well if it had knocked you clean out it must’ve been…

“You’re awake!” You hear a familiar voice call out to your right. It wasn’t long before a blue face came into view, blocking the blinding lights of the overhead fluorescent lights.

“How are you feeling?!?” Your vision slowly focused in on the figure in front of you. “Good…I think.” You slowly sit up, rubbing the back of your head tenderly.

You notice you had an IV inserted into your right forearm. Without another thought you removed it, ready to go…to wherever you were needed.

“Woah, there- you should slow down it’s been…a bit and you're still recovering.” Hank warns, grabbing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

You looked to his face…he was worried??? “Hank, I’m fine! See?” You said reassuringly; though, Hank himself didn’t find himself too convinced.

“Hey, what are you so worried about?” You ask, brows drawn together hoping to get a straight answer out of him.

He was worried about you, obviously. You suffered several traumatic head injuries within a short span of time! If you had not been a human…he didn��t even want to think of the possible outcomes of that situation.

Hank sighed heavily, organizing his racing thoughts. “I thought I’d lost you.” He managed to drag out.

Huh?

Scared??

That he lost...YOU?!?

“Hank, I think I’ve suffered greater injuries. You should know this.” You say with a small laugh before quickly stopping, his solemn expression instantly killing your attempt to lighten the mood.

His large hands grab your wrists firmly. “You have been out for a month.” His words shook you, so much you found yourself shaking your head in disbelief. You hadn’t been out for longer than a day, right?

Hank must’ve sensed your reluctancy to believe your current situation because he started again. “You suffered several fractures to your skull, luckily, nothing broken or opposing threats to your brain. Unfortunately the stress your skull took on added with the hard contact of the ground basically split your head open.” He explained, running a hand down his tired face.

You hadn’t realized this had happened. “But I’m…I’m okay now, aren’t I?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up carefully to the back of your head. You felt stitches, running up your skull. Your stomach dropped.

“I performed an emergency medical procedure…which I won’t go into details with you so soon…” He sighed heavily once again, plopping down in his wheeled office chair.

“I hadn’t realized…” You quietly trailed off while fidgeting with your fingers out of nervous habit.

Hadn’t realized what? How bad the situation was? How worried the other X-Men must be? How much Hank went through to make sure you were well?!?

“Please, it isn’t your fault. If anything, this situation has made me realize something…” Now it was Hank’s turn to dramatically pause, his head in his large, blue hands.

“What? What is it?” You ask nervously, fearing your health was in critical condition at this point.

He grabbed you by the shoulders once again, looking into your eyes deeply, “Because…because I fear I’m falling in love with you.”

You stared in utter shock. Had you heard him correctly? He feels the same way?!?

“I-I want to come home to you, to kiss you like it’s been eons since I last saw your face. I need you safe, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if you aren’t-“ You didn’t need to hear anymore. 

You grabbed him by his lab coat, pulling him into you as your lips pressed together in a flurry of passion.

He held onto you, hungrily chasing after your lips as he poured all the love he’d helplessly held in for so long.

Your hands slowly slid up his broad chest and towards his neck, finding themselves tangled in his soft hair. “Hank” You sighed against his lips, the kiss ripping all oxygen from your lungs and leaving you breathless in the process.

He groans into your mouth in response, his tongue running against your bottom lip to beg for access.

Your heated ‘session’ was abruptly cut short by the lab door sliding open. Hank shot up, nearly taking a tumble trying to remove himself from you- to avoid any suspicion of previous actions of course.

Though, the scene didn’t look too convincing; seeing how Hank’s glasses laid crooked on his face and his hair was well tussled. You had to cover your giggle at his appearance.

It was Morph, Cyclops, and Logan. They all start laughing, causing the rest of the X-men to come in, groaning in defeat.

“Woah, woah- we’re all of you just standing outside the door?!?” Hank exclaimed.

“Pay up, daddy’s waiting.” Logan holds out a hand expectantly towards the other X-Men, a smirk displayed across his face while completely ignoring Hank.

“I knew I should’ve bet with Logan.” Rogue mumbles, fishing out money from her pockets along with the rest of the team.

Oh yes. This was only the beginning of a long, beautiful (and heavily teased) relationship with Hank.

I hope you enjoyed this cute little one-shot! ;)

If you want more like this or want something written, please hit up my ask box! Requests are always open 💕 Until next time🫡🫡

-Mae

[lyn-1225]

Hospital visit

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, hospital, ambulance, emotions, dehydration, slight starvation. I think that’s it.

Word count: 4000 to 5000

A/n: I had a good time writing this :) the idea of this imagine popped up in my head and I immediately started writing it. I think it turned out pretty good.

——————————————————————

Your POV:

“Hello there Franny” I speak in a baby voice towards the baby sitting in her chair in front of me.

I continue feeding her the smushed baby carrots that I’ve somehow got her to enjoy.

Before she wouldn’t even go near them, but according to Debbie ever since I’ve started babysitting her, her taste for them has changed.

Being carls girlfriend meant being best friends with all of his siblings.

I was lucky enough for them to like me.

We were friends long before we got together, so I pretty much knew the Gallaghers as much as Carl did. I mean I practically grew up with them.

When me and Carl announced that we were together the entire family supported it.

I practically lived there as well.

My parents loved the Gallaghers. When they would be in Chicago we would all often times have small cookouts.

They go away a lot due to their large business that they own. Which meant that I would stay at the Gallaghers a lot for good amounts of time. Including now.

My parents never questioned where I was because they always knew I was at the Gallaghers.

Their home was my home.

“Hey” carl smiles leaning down to place a small sweet kiss on my forehead.

“Hi babe” I smile closing my eyes as his lips meet my skin.

Once his lips leave my forehead, I open my eyes looking up at him through my eyelashes.

He has a smile on his face as he stares back at me. He puts a hand on my right shoulder as he walks over to the empty seat to the left of me at the table.

He takes a seat lingering his hand on my shoulder a few more seconds before taking it off.

“Eat, then school” Fiona demand placing a plate of bacon, eggs, and a bagel in front of him.

“You too” she says placing one in front of me as well.

“Ya, ya” I roll my eyes in fake annoyance, turning back towards Franny when she starts to fuss.

Placing the baby food down, I pick Franny up and out of her chair rocking her back and forth making sure her head is supported.

Carl stares at me with a glint in his eye. He adores me with kids.

“I have to go. I have a test first thing today” I frown placing Franny back into her chair.

I grab my school bag from off the floor before walking over to Carl who is stuffing his face with bacon.

“Bye guys” I smile placing a kiss to carls head before opening the back door.

“Bye y/n!” Everyone yells when the door closes shut.

School was easy for me. I was scheduled to graduate one year earlier than the rest of my class which made all my friends and family proud of me. Carl being the most proud considering he wasn’t the best in school.

His thought process was that there only needed to be once smart person in the relationship and that of course was me. I didn’t object although I would constantly yell at him saying that he is smart as well.

He knew things that I didn’t know most times. Mostly when it came to common sense stuff. I wasn’t very good with that.

-time skip brought to you by Sammi the snitch-

This school week has been really fucking busy.

It seems like I never really had time to do the things I normally like to do.

Of course i still have time to hang out with Carl and babysit for Debbie, but anything beyond that was out of the question. Since it was nearing the end of school tests and final grades were starting to stress me out.

Carl has tried to help me with studying and relieve my stress but no matter what, the stress isn’t gonna go away until I know I’ve passed everything.

“Thanks for the ride home Lip” I thank getting out of the backseat of the car. Carl gets out on the other side as well dragging his backpack out with him.

“It’s not problem” Lip said taking a hit from the cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth.

“Have a good time with hacking shit” I yell back to him as me and Carl make our way to the front door hand in hand.

“Yup!” Lip yells back driving off down the road.

Me and Carl smile and laugh as we open the front door and walk in practically throwing our school bags somewhere else in the living room.

“I can’t wait till all of this shit is over” I sigh landing onto the couch, my muscles finally relaxing.

I finally was able to relax without having to worry about studying. At least for right now. I still had at least two more tests to study for. Those fortunately were next week. After that I’m free.

“Me neither” Carl agrees landing next to me with a loud huff. He rolls on top of me getting rid of any little space we had between us.

I start to laugh when he drags his hands up my sides. He starts to tickle me making me laugh even harder.

“No god please” I laugh tears brimming the edge of my eyes. I try to move out of his grip but fail immensely due to the fact that he was stronger than me. 

“Do you give up?” Carl asks stopping his actions against my sides.

Getting an idea in my head I suddenly wrap my arms around his neck dragging his body into the position I was just in. I then grab his hands pinning them above his head.

I stratal his waist making sure he couldn’t go anywhere. The shock in his face makes me laugh as I let go of his hands slightly sitting down on his thighs.

“Do you?” I sass crossing my arms over my chest. He smiles at our position eyes wandering over my body.

“Not yet” he says, suddenly picking me up from of the couch so that he’s standing while my legs are wrapped around his waist.

“Holy shit” i yell out of surprise. He throws me onto the couch again before lightly jumping on top of me. He keeps my hands above my head now with his face just mere inches away from me. My eyes are wide at the very sudden maneuver.

“You tired yet?” He asks touching the tip of my nose with his. My vision goes black for a split second before it comes back, a wave of dizziness following shortly after.

What the hell.

I shake me head to try and rid myself of the dizziness in my head. Of course me shaking my head made it slightly worse.

The weight of Carl leaning over me lessens as he sits straight up looking at me with a confused expression.

“You okay” Carl asks waiting for me to respond. The dizziness slightly subsides the room still slightly blurry.

“Ya I’m alright” i say using my best reassuring voice. I look up at him to see if he believes me or not. At first he seemed unsure but then he decided that my answer was good enough for him to trust.

“Alright” he smiles getting off of my lap before walking away from me into the kitchen. The sound of the refrigerator door opening can be heard.

He rummages for something before closing the door and walking back into the living room. He hands me one of the coke bottles in his hand before sitting next to me. He takes the remote from off the coffee table turning on the tv.

He turns it to a show that interests him before looking over to me to see if I was ok with what he picked. I nod my head at him giving him the okay. He smiles at me before tapping my leg with a gentle hand.

Raising my eye brows I look at him waiting for him to tell me what he wants to say. He points to the drink in my hand basically asking why I haven’t drank from it yet.

“Ohh right” I say un-capping the cold bottle taking a small drink of the cold bubbly liquid.

He nods his head smiling at me before turning back to the tv.

We sit there for a few minutes when the front door suddenly swings open making me jump and Carl stand up out of defense. He runs in front of me to shield me from any sort of intruder that could be breaking into the house.

Fiona walks through the door way trying to carry a large amount of grocery bags. If it weren’t for me running to help her she probably would have dropped at least 3 of the bags that were barely hanging off her fingers.

“Thank you” Fiona sighs walking through the living room and to the kitchen. I follow behind carrying the bags I offered to help with. Carl follows behind me after closing the door behind Fiona.

“Of course” I smile placing the bags on the kitchen table so that I could help unload them.

“You don’t have to do that” she says opening cupboards and drawers while unpacking the bags she set down.

“It’s really no problem. I love helping” I smile handing a few things to Carl so that he could help out as well.

“What’s up everybody” Kevin yells from the front door followed by Veronica’s voice telling him to quiet down.

“Hey kev, hi V” Fiona says handing a few things to V so that she could put them away.

“Hi” I smile taking the bread and the flour out of the bag placing them on the table.

“What’s up little ones” Kev asks coming over to me and Carl rubbing our heads. I swat his hand away laughing at his father like structure.

Kev and V were just as much family to me as the Gallaghers were. I would often babysit Jemma and Amy as well.

“I would avoid the Alibi for awhile” Kev commented taking a seat at the table.

“Why” Fiona asked looking up from the bags placing her hands on the counter.

“Franks made that his hot spot for the weird group of kids he somehow got to call him daddy Frank” V responds opening the refrigerator door placing a gallon of milk on the shelf.

“Ew” I fake gag grabbing the flour bringing it over to V before handing it to her. She gladly takes it from me placing it in the upper cabinet next to the other baking supplies.

Carl laughs at me taking the bread over to where Fiona was standing. “I will definitely avoid it then” Fiona rolled her eyes taking the bread from Carl placing it next to her.

“Where’s Debbie?” I ask folding up the bags that were empty so that we could keep them for later just in case.

“Her, Franny, Liam, and Lip are off doing god knows what, and Ian is at work” Fiona says folding up the bags that she emptied out.

“Makes sense” I nod handing the folded bags to Fiona.

The dizziness suddenly comes back making me slightly stumble into the counter. The room starts to spin, the grip I have on the counter tightening.

“Y/n honey are you ok” V asks walking over to me with worry in her eyes. This sentence gains everyone’s attention as all of their eyes meet my unstable body.

“Ya I um. I think I’m just tired” I say squeezing my eyes shut for a second before opening them back up.

The room still spins as I slowly lean off the counter making my way slowly to the stairs.

Suddenly my entire body feels weak as I collapse onto the floor. My eyes continually get more and more blurry and the room continues spinning.

Right then and there my vision goes black.

Carls POV:

The worry in my mind from before renters when I hear V ask y/n if she’s ok.

She did this before on the couch. Something was wrong. She was gripping the counter with a grip I didn’t think she had.

“Ya I um. I think I’m just tired” she said before walking over towards the stair case. I wasn’t fooled. She wasn’t ok and I knew it.

Out of no where she collapsed to the floor. My instincts kicked in as I ran to her side. “Fuck” I say looking at her face. V runs over next pressing her fingers on her wrist to see if she had a pulse.

Tears start to brim my eyes as I start to think about the fact that my girlfriend was passed out on our kitchen floor. “She has a pulse” V yells moving her hands to her face.

“Call for an ambulance!” Kev yells immediately taking out his phone so that he could call the others. Fiona grabs her phone slightly crying at what’s going on. “I need an ambulance right away” Fiona cries telling the operator on the phone all the info they needed.

I place my hand in y/ns hand squeezing it as if a way to reassure myself that she’ll be alright. “Wake up, please wake up” I plead as V tries shaking her a bit to see if she’d wake up.

Sirens can be heard outside of the house when the front door flies open to reveal Ian and another paramedic.

“What happened” Ian yelled running over to the side of y/n that V was at.

“What does it look like dip shit she passed out” I yell. I didn’t mean to be rude I was just really worried for her.

Ian carries her out of the house placing her in the gurney that was sitting just outside. I run out of the house with him making sure I didn’t get to far away from her.

“Can I come with” I plead looking at Ian and the woman that is with him. “Paramedics only” she says as he pushes the gurney into the back of the ambulance.

Your POV:

The sound of sirens fill my ears as my eyes start to slowly open. A quick flash of a light goes over my eyes. My vision becomes more clear as I see Ian in his paramedic uniform waving a thin flashlight in front of my eyes.

I look around at my surroundings realizing that I was in an ambulance. Seeing my body strapped to the gurney makes me freak out a little bit. I look around frantically trying to find any sort of reason why I’d be in there.

“Y/n calm down your okay” Ian says taking my head in his hands turning it towards him. “You passed out” he explains yelling something to the driver that I didn’t understand.

“We’re taking you to the hospital to do some tests” he says placing his fingers on my wrist. He yells something else about my pulse before taking it off my wrist.

“Where’s Carl?” I ask looking at Ian worry lacing my voice. I try to move my body but the restraints around my upper body makes it extremely difficult.

“Everyone’s ok they’ll all be at the hospital when you get out of testing” he reassures me before the ambulance comes to an abrupt stop.

The doors swing open as the woman driving takes the bottom end of the gurney while Ian takes the front. They roll me out of the back making sure I get into the emergency room safely.

The woman speaks to the doctors and nurses in some sort of doctor talk that I couldn’t comprehend.

I look towards Ian fear evident in my face as I silently ask what they are talking about. He looks back at me with a hand on my shoulder.

“There gonna place you in a room and do tests to see what happened” Ian explains rubbing my shoulder as a female doctor comes to my side. She escorts me to another room helping me switch from the gurney to the actual bed.

Both were extremely uncomfortable but I guess I didn’t really have a choice.

Carls POV:

Me, Fiona, Debbie, Lip, Liam, Franny, Veronica, and Kev run into the emergency room asking the people at the front millions of questions.

I pace around the room questions and worry filling my head.

Please god let her be ok

Kev and V walk over to me leading me over to the waiting room just off the side of the front desks.

“What’d they say” I asked Fiona running up to where she was sitting at a chair. She looks up at me with just as much worry as I had. “She didn’t say anything. She said to wait for a doctor” Fiona sighs placing her hands over her head.

“Fuck” I yell gaining the attention of all of the other people in the waiting room. Lip pulls me back into a chair wrapping his left arm around my shoulders. In a way it was comforting but the thought of her being in a hospital room was to large in my mind.

“She’ll be ok” Debbie says to me holding Franny up to her chest rocking her back and forth to keep her from freaking out.

I nod my head slowly tears coming to my eyes. “God I hope so” I say rubbing my hands down my legs.

Your POV:

A nurse and a doctor came in just as soon as I got in the room starting to tell me about all the tests they were gonna do on me.

Being completely honest at the time I wasn’t even paying attention to what they were saying. I was just worried about what everyone was thinking and how worried Carl was.

A few tests later the nurse walked in carrying a pink clip board. She had dark brown hair that was tied up into a tight ponytail. Her eyes glowed of brown.

“Hello miss y/l/n” she said sweetly walking over to the monitors hooked up to me.

“So it looks like everything looks good I just have a few questions for you if that alright with you” she asks looking down at me.

I nod my head still scared at the fact that I was all alone having to deal with the scary topics.

“When was the last time you ate or drank” she asks taking a pen out of her shirt pocket.

I think back to the small sip of coke that I had with Carl.

“I had a small sip of coca-Cola earlier today around 3 ish” I say trying to think back on what else I drank or ate.

Now that I think about it I haven’t eaten anything in 3 days. I haven’t drank anything in a few days either.

“The last time I ate or drank before that was, I think three days ago” I say looking up at her as she writes all of this information on her clipboard.

“Ok this is all great information. I’ll be back with the results of what’s going on” she smiles walking back over to the wide open door. “Thank you” I say her smiling at me before leaving to go speak with my doctor I assume.

A few minutes pass when a bunch of footsteps come running down the hall. Carl bursts into the room immediately running to my side.

Just as excited as him I wrap my wired arms around him letting tears of joy fall from my eyes. “I missed you so much” I cried tightening my already tight grip around him.

He tightens his grip too being careful of all of the wires attached to my body.

“I’m so glad your ok” he says pulling away from the hug to hold my face in his hands.

“I’m okay” I reassure him pulling his hands away from my face and into mine.

I look around the room to see everyone standing around looking at me with tears in their eyes. I didn’t realize until now just how much all of them really cared about my health and well being.

“I’m so glad to see you guys” I say leaning up on my bed. They all take turns hugging me of course Liam giving me the longest one. I’ve always had a connection with him. He’s always thought of me as a big sister.

The same nurse from before walks in slightly surprised to see the amount of people around.

“Well hello there” she chuckles walking over to the side of me that Carl wasn’t at. “I’m assuming your all her family” she says pointing towards me with her pen.

“Yes” Fiona immediately says making me smile.

I like that.

Family.

“Ok so we have the tests back and we found the cause on why she passed out today” she looks at me giving me a reassuring smile.

Fiona nods her head waiting for the nurse to explain the circumstances. Carl rubs my hand staring intently at the nurse just across from him.

“So the blood work came back normal. The only thing is that we had to start a drip for her because when she came in she was dehydrated” the nurse explains. 

“That’s the main reason she passed out but another factor could be that she hasn’t eaten anything in a few days” she says telling everything to the people around me.

Carl looks at me with sadness in his eyes realizing that all the work I’ve been doing for the past few days has occupied my mind so much to the point where I forgot to eat and drink.

“After the drip is gone and she has something to eat, and we do some more blood tests she’ll be good to go home” the nurse smiles checking the monitor next to me.

“I’ll leave you guys to it” she say walking back to the door. “Thank you so much” Fiona says looking to the nurse.

“Of course” she says walking back out of the room.

Everyone turns to me making me shrink down in my hospital bed. I hated this attention.

“I’ve been so stressed with school lately that I guess I forgot to do simple tasks such as eat and drink” I whisper looking down at me and carls intertwined fingers.

“Y/n we’re not mad. We’re just worried that’s all” Fiona says walking over to my other side placing a soft hand to my shoulder.

I nod my head feeling grateful that they weren’t mad.

We all sit around in the room talking about anything and everything as we wait for any sort of news from the nurse.

The room I was in didn’t have enough chairs so a few of the nurses had to bring in other chairs from a storage room.

Carl continued to sit next to me keeping his hand in mine the entire time.

A different nurse walked in carrying a plate of hospital food placing it off the the side at the small table next to Carl.

“Here’s your dinner sweetie” she says handing me a cup of water. “Thank you” I smile taking a long sip of the drink.

She walked back out of my room with a grin on her face. I look over towards Carl silently eyeing the food right next to him. He gets the hint taking the cover off of the food before silently asking me to sit up.

I sit up placing the extra pillow I had onto my lap so that the plate could rest on something. He places the plate onto the pillow making sure not spill anything onto me.

The food consisted of chopped up potato with some broccoli and some sort of pasta.

“Yum hospital food” i scrunch my face up with a tight lipped smile. Carl chuckles handing me a fork that the nurse left for me.

I take the fork from him before taking bites of the food in front of me.

To be honest it wasn’t as bad as I thought.

Everyone smiles when I start to eat making sure to engage in conversation to make it seem like they weren’t all waiting for me to eat.

Once I’ve finished the food and drank all the water the nurse from before that brought me the food came back to pick up everything that was left.

I left no food on the plate which made everyone including me feel happy. I go through a few cups of water, immediately making me feel better than earlier that day.

The nurse that told me and the others what happened walks back into the room a smile brighter than the lights in the room. “Okay so I have amazing news” she says coming over to the monitors.

“As long as you sign the papers she can go home as soon as possible” she says taking off any wires on my body that weren’t currently in me.

Fiona started signing the papers accepting anything she had to accept and writing any information she needed to write.

The nurse who’s name I found out was Emily started to take out my empty IV which signaled that I could leave as soon as I got changed out of the hospital gown.

With carls help I got out of the bed making sure to hold the back of the gown closed. I don’t need anyone seeing me from behind in my underwear.

Carls chuckle fills my ears when he sees what I’m doing with the gown. I glare at him grabbing my clothes before walking into the bathroom that was attached to the room.

I change back into my clothes walking back into the room feeling like a whole new person even though I was extremely tired.

The paper work gets turned into the front desk meaning I could go back home. The home that Carl and my family lived in.

Ian was standing outside now out of his uniform waiting for all of us. “How are you” ian asks coming over to me to look at me. “I’m doing good thanks to you” I smile wrapping my arms around him. He hugs me back rubbing my back with his hand.

“Come on let’s get you home” he says walking me over to the car. I get into the back seat Carl getting in right next to me.

There was two cars outside so that everyone would be able to get home safely without having to all cram into one car.

Lip gets into the driver seat as Ian gets into the passenger seat. Me, carl, and Liam sit in the back placing our seatbelts on. Liam was already sleeping against the window next to me.

I was sitting in the middle, Liam to my right, Carl to my left.

I let my body lean into Carl my head falling to his shoulder. The darkness outside flows passed as the car starts to head towards their house.

Carl kisses my forehead leaning his head on mine before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again” he demands pulling me in tighter to his side. “I won’t” I say cuddling into his side.

The streetlights pass by making this moment even more perfect than it already was.

——————————————————————

A/n: Hi everyone! I hope you liked this imagine. If you have a request don’t hesitate to send it my way. I will try my best to get to it as soon as I can. Thank you for reading and I hope that you read my other ones as well!

Have a great day everyone!!

[whoahoney]

An Attempt at a One Night Stand

Eddie Munson x SingleMom!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Reader is a single mother spending an evening at the Hideout with her friends when she meets the lead singer of a band called Corroded Coffin. He buys her a drink and makes her feel ways she hasn’t felt in a very very long time…

Content Warnings: AFAB/Fem!Reader, NSFW(Minors, DNI), Smut, use of alcohol & cigarettes, descriptions of depression, angst, descriptions of a romantic partner’s passing, fluff, female masturbation, nipple play, light choking, p in v sex, protected sex (WRAP IT), more plot than porn

A/N: My first published smut, don’t look at me. 😂🥲

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie Munson had it bad.

He met the prettiest girl in the world at a gig at the Hideout, the only person in the crowd that sang along with him the whole time. He knew he wanted to buy her a drink when she sang Ozzy into her empty bottle, pulling laughs from her friends while he eyes continued to flicker back to his.

Eddie loved her carefree nature about her, her energy magnetic. ‘I have to know this girl.’ He thought—her every movement fascinating him.

After some encouragement from his friends, he worked up the nerve to saunter up to her table, applying his own confident and easygoing facade the best he could. She was surrounded by an entourage of friends, all sets of eyes suddenly trained on him, halting all conversation.

Eddie glanced at each girl briefly before nodding to them, “Ladies,” then he looked at her again. Her eyes were glossed in wonder and inebriation at the boy who looked at her so intently.

“I, uh, I’m Eddie, and I couldn’t help but notice your show stopping performance tonight, and, uh, wanted to buy you a drink.” He smiled softly, his heart hammering away in his chest and sweat trickling down his temple.

She looked at each one of her friends, widening her eyes in excitement and nodding at the one on her left, a silent agreement. “I’d love that.” She stood, walking over to the bar ahead of him.

“I’m, Y/n, by the way.” She said as they settled into two seats. Eddie nodded, repeating her name inside, trying it on and getting used to the feeling it gave him. “Well, Y/n, what do you drink?” He asked, gesturing to the shelves of liquor behind the bar. Y/n’s eyes darted over the labels ahead of her, trying to focus on one at a time when she decided against whiskey.

“I’ll just have another beer.” She shrugged, thankful for the red lighting of the neon light she was seated next to. “No problem. Hey, Sal,” He called the bartender from across the room for service, ordering two bud lights and turning his attention back to her, leaning his chin on a ringed hand.

“You ever been here before?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. Y/n shook her head as their drinks were served. “What gave me away?” She shrugged, taking a sip.

“It’s rare a group of girls is sat up in here for a few hours.” He smiled, taking a drink himself.

“Are you implying that you’re here all the time?” She quirked an eyebrow inquisitively, her mouth gaping in sarcasm. Eddie looked like a fish out of water for a moment before she started giggling. “I’m just messing with you,” She pushed his shoulder playfully.

Eddie let out a relieved laugh, “Oh, god, sweetheart. I didn’t know what to do there. I swear I’m not here all the time, but I’m here a lot! As you can see I play music here, which I do pretty often...” He said with a shrug and tight smile.

“Well, I may have to come back if the talent is this nice every time, I really enjoyed the show—we all did.” She shrugged, looking to her lap to bite back a smile. “Thanks, y’know next time if you perform like you did in the crowd, I’ll have to pull you up on stage with me.” He chuckled, earning another blush from the girl across from him. “I bet you’re fun on car rides, huh?” He asked and nodded at her in understanding.

Y/n scoffed, “I mean, you could say that, I’ve had a lot of practice with car karaoke and all.” She giggled. “You had me smiling the whole time, I know performances like that take practice! It was perfect.” He said, like it was the simplest thing. Y/n sunk her teeth further into her lip to suppress another pathetic giggle.

“So what do you like, huh? What’s your story?” Eddie asked. Y/n took a swig and searched for the best way to share without sharing. “I.. work two jobs, during the day I'm a clerk at a book shop and most nights during the week I waitress at a grill.”

“I mean your hopes and dreams, babe, but also nice to know you’re a hardworkin’ woman, I respect that.” He said, raising his bottle to her before taking another drink. Y/n rolled her eyes and unsuccessfully repressed a smile. “I don’t really have any.”

“Dreams? C’mon, I know you can think big. If you could do anything in the world, what would you do?” He asked as if it were that simple.

“Uh, pfft... Damn. Hold on.” She nervously laughed as her mind blanked, no possibilities coming to the surface no matter how hard she tried. “Take your time, you got it.” He encouraged, nodding gently. Y/n looked ahead instead of at his distracting puppy dog eyes. “I don’t think my passion is gonna lie in a career, you know? I just wanna be able to find something that allows me to make enough money in order to get by and live a happy life and have good experiences with the people I love.”

Eddie wore a warm smile on his face as he scratched the bottom corner of his mouth, “You’re real cute, you know that?” He smiled, leaning forward to brush her hair away from her face.

Y/n avoided his eyes on her as they trailed down her profile; her lips, chin, neck and chest as she tilted the bottle back. When she finished she shrugged, “I’ve been told a time or two, what about you, huh? Did you know you’re real cute?” She flashed him a look and a smile, her words sending him into flattered laughter as he shook his head and drank again.

“I had a feeling I was real cute, but no one really tells me, sweetheart, so, thanks.” He winked and leaned in to get closer to her, reaching for her hand that rested on the bar beside them. “So, what’s your game, here, huh?” She asked as he played with her fingers, his eyes darting up to hers questioningly, “What do you mean?” He asked, unsure of the context of the question.

“I mean, are you trying to play the long game and take your time before you try to get in my pants or are you trying to take me out of here to fuck me in the back ally as soon as possible?” She asked bluntly with big sparkling doe eyes and then took a sip of her drink.

Eddie’s eyes widened, not in embarrassment, but because he didn’t know he came off that way, “Babe if I’m being honest, I didn’t even get this far in my head when I decided I needed to talk to you,” he said earnestly, leaning closer to her to talk over the other band now playing in the bar. “So, I guess to answer your question, I wanna play whatever game you’re playing, if that’s cool.” He shrugged easily, as though hiding his feelings wasn’t on his agenda.

Y/n sat back with her mouth gaping, running her eyes over his frame again like she’s just seeing him for the first time. “Ohh…” is all she could manage, shyness taking over briefly.

She was used to getting hit on in bars, the nights she made it out of the house during the month when she was able to leave Danny without problems. Love had been different since Adam passed. Y/n didn’t think love like that happened twice in the same lifetime—the most beautiful, head spinning love that embraced you and never wavered.

Adam and Y/n had been childhood friends, who soon grew into high school lovers. Adam and Y/n did everything together, truly two halves of a whole.

And when they got pregnant with Danny at the end of their junior year, they thought the curveball thrown their way would be the hardest it got, knowing they’d have each other for the rest of time.

Or until death.

When Adam was 18, he was involved in a car accident near the end of the pregnancy, passing at the scene. Y/n—17, pregnant, and practically widowed—swore off love, feeling as though letting another man into her life in Adam’s place was betrayal.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t lonely. Sure, parenting alone isn’t for the weak, but she had her friends for emotional support, she didn’t need a man for that, and any fun thing she could think of doing either involved her son or her best friend. The more time went by, the more she convinced herself she could do it all alone.

So, over the last couple years, she settled for one night stands, sloppy goodnight kisses, handing out fake names and phone numbers like Halloween candy. But tonight was different.

Emotional intimacy of any kind was uncomfortable, the only man she was able to stay honest and open about her feelings with was one she’d known for a decade before she let him in her pants. Eddie had known her for two seconds and was upfront about his thoughts with so much ease it made her start setting up bricks.

“I-I, wasn’t expecting that answer.” She laughed awkwardly and took another sip, the bottle now over half gone. Eddie smirked and shook his head, his eyes never leaving her being for more than two seconds at a time.

“What was the answer you were expecting?” He asked. Y/n scanned around the room, landing on her friends who looked like they were having a wonderful time with Eddie’s friends who now occupied seats at their table. “I dunno, but no one’s ever been upfront about it, let alone put the ball in my court.” She said it like it was no big deal, but Eddie knew. He knew he got through to her. “Ugh, I hate basketball.” He smiled, trying to get her to relax again, he likes when she’s in control of the conversation. She mirrored his smile and rolled her eyes, the buzz of the current beer working over her head.

“So, uh, how’d you get into music?” She asked, steering the conversation another direction, which Eddie smiled at, knowing he was getting his shot. “I love that you asked that,” He blushed, a proud smile working its way onto his face, “When I moved in with my uncle around eleven or so years ago, he played a lot of Woody Guthrie, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, you know? The originals—the good stuff!” He emphasized; the passion evident by the gleam in his eyes and his movements, which she loved, “I got really into them, like, wore out the needle on the record player. I had that thing going all the time. Well, one day, I got home from a particularly shitty day at school, and there was an acoustic guitar on my bed.” He smiled nostalgically at the memory. “Wayne got me started and I’ve been in love with music ever since.” He shrugged.

Y/n nodded, her heart smiling at his ability to be soft, “That's such a sweet story, you and your uncle must be really close! That was so thoughtful of him.” She awed, Eddie blushed a deeper shade of red as he took a swig of his drink, nodding in agreement, “He’s great, honestly the best man I’ve ever known.” He chuckled nervously, looking at his hands and hating himself for the conversation turning this way so quickly. ‘Too much, dude, c’mon..’ he scolded himself.

“So do you still listen to Willie and Waylon or did you kick the old boys to the curb when you adopted Metallica and Ozzy into your repertoire?” She asked, which soothed his worries immediately. He chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, of course I still listen to them, I couldn’t abandon my roots like that!” He nudged her arm with his, his heart leaping when she joined in his laughter. “You listen to any old cowboy country?” He asked.

Y/n nodded, “I’m familiar with those old cowboys of yours. Except I’m more of a Johnny Cash fan.” She shrugged, taking him for a Willie Nelson enthusiast. “Let me guess, Folsom Prison Blues just really has a hold over you?” He teased, though he was right. “I can casually enjoy songs about prison and crime, alright?” She played into it.

Y/n liked Eddie, that was never a question, but was she afraid? No, but kind of intimidated? Yeah, that’s more like it. She shrugged off her denim jacket, leaving her in her tank top and showing off her tattoos.

“Nice ink, care to give me a tour?” He asked, nodding to her body, most definitely not looking at her tattoos but rather her chest and abdomen, wondering if there were more under the clothes.

She smiled, no guy ever taking the time to notice and ask, the most attention they ever got were ‘Ugh, tatted girls are my favorite’ or ‘do you have any tattoos in other places?’ Eddie may be the first guy to refer to her artwork respectfully. It made her want to show him more than she should.

She pointed to the art on her forearms, the sun on one side, the moon on the other, “These were my first and second,” she nodded, turned to show him the back of her bicep, where a bundle of flowers sat in a broken vase, “this is the third,” she pulled up the side of her shirt to show the bottom of an expansive art piece on her ribs, “fourth,”

Eddie watched on intently, trying to commit them all to memory. She turned to the wall, gathering her hair up in a ponytail to show the fifth tattoo on the back of her neck, “Number five may have hurt the most,” she mentioned as he took in the detail of the moth, slightly bummed when she turned back around. “And six through ten are unable to be shown at this time,” she giggled, picking her beer back up and tilting it back til it was empty.

Before Eddie answered, he turned to order her another, a smile rising to her cheeks at the gesture until she scolded herself, ‘Oh, two beers, what a dreamboat.’

Expecting some sleazy question about when he’d get to see the rest, she was surprised when all he asked was, “So how old were you when you got your first two?” Her eyebrows shot up. A real question?

“I was 16.” she nodded, his eyes widening, “Damn, who was your artist?? I couldn’t get anyone to tattoo me till I was 17, and even then it didn’t turn out right, I was so bummed.” He said strongly, his inflection making her laugh.

“He was my friend's brother,” she shrugged, “So does this mean you’re gonna give me a tattoo tour?” She couldn't resist through giggles. Eddie raised his eyebrows at her, “Oh, I thought you’d never ask, angel.” He said with a smile that could’ve been mistaken for devious, but really that was just Eddie.

He quickly shrugged off his vest and jacket like she had, holding out his arm and turning it slowly to point out his bats. Y/n felt heat rising in her stomach at the sound of him explaining the backstory behind them all, some of which he drew himself, others he found in fantasy novels or had them drawn up by his friend at the shop he frequents now that he isn’t a minor.

“And I love this little demon dude right here,” he said to the area by his collarbone, his hand holding his neckline open more than needed, the fleshy expanse of his chest looking delicious with cinnamon colored freckles sprinkled across it.

Y/n leaned forward to look at the detail of the crazy face it made, laughing easily and looking back up to Eddie; it definitely felt like him. “This one is my most recent, after my favorite Metallica song—“ he rolled up his sleeve to show the puppet master on his forearm,

“Master of Puppets?” She asked before he could say it, his head snapped up to her with a surprise grin, “Yeah, exactly! March of ‘86 I holed up in my room and just listened to it over and over again until I could work out the chords, then it felt like I worked my fingers to the bone trying to get it down. It was a challenge, but it was definitely a defining moment in my music journey, you know?” He nodded, sharing that sliver of himself without trouble. It made Y/n intrigued, yet jealous. She wanted to be able to do that without locking up.

“Wait, you learned it by ear? Amazing! You must be some sort of musical genius.” She said, fully meaning the sentiment, when Eddie scoffed and shook his head humorlessly. “That’s really sweet, thanks, but I’m far from a genius.” He averted his gaze, shyness creeping in.

Y/n cocked her head, sensing she struck a nerve of his, one she would be sure not to touch on again. “You think I’ll get to hear you play it sometime?” She said, brushing his sitting hand with her fingers, gathering some courage.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, “I’d love to play some Metallica for you.” He nodded eagerly. Y/n giggled and took another drink, the liquid courage catching up to her. “Are you gonna give me a private performance? Or should I come back when Corroded Coffin is playing next?” She said suggestively.

Eddie perked up at this, not sure if he’s hearing the implied meaning behind her words correctly. “Why not both? I mean, if the private performance goes well.” He chuckled nervously and sipped his new beer. Y/n looked at his hands, noticing his rings and how each one was different.

The chatter of the crowd around them and the music from the stage was a good excuse to keep leaning forward, thanking herself for wearing a low cut top. She held out her hand, Eddie cocked his head and eased his hand into hers tentatively. She immediately took to his rings, ogling them.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s gonna be great. I saw these fingered working up there earlier and couldn’t keep my eyes off them. These are pretty metal, I must say.” She looked the jewlery over with a quiet and heavy lidded smile. Eddie’s cheeks heated up at their closeness, noticing how she stroked his palm and wrist and stopped paying attention to his jewelry, holding her gaze on his lips.

“Uhm,” he swallowed hard, “W-Would you wanna maybe have that private performance.. now?”

Y/n’s eyes flickered with hope, “Where at, rockstar?” She bit her lip, looking him over and interlacing their fingers. “I—Depends on how long you’re willing to wait, Princess, you think you wanna come back to my place? Or are you more of a ‘right here right now’ kinda girl?” He said in her ear slowly, taking hold of her forearm and stroking it lovingly; mapping out every scar and freckle that lay there.

“Where do you prefer?” She said, shamelessly stroking the column of his neck with her thumb, which sent shivers down his spine. “Baby, I’ll take you anywhere I can get you.” He whispered, his breath fanning over her ear and cheek. Her chest began to heave in want while her eyes roamed his body beneath his clothing, wondering where else he had tattooed.

“Y’know, I have a very spacious van parked in the alley out back, if that’s your kinda thing, but I simply can’t wait another second to touch you.” He whispered nervously, hoping he wasn't ruining everything by crossing the unspoken line between them. Y/n’s eyes turned hungry as she nodded, “Can we do a shot first?” She asked, buzzed and still giddy enough she needed to calm down.

Eddie bit his lip, “I like the way you think, sweetheart, what do you want?” He turned to call Sal the bartender.

“Tequila!” She nudged his arm, looking at the jug on the shelf. “I didn’t take you for a tequila girl.” He smiled, grabbing a shaker from behind the bar and sprinkling himself some salt on the back of his hand as Sal poured them up, setting out limes before leaving.

“I’m not, usually,” she said while sprinkling the salt onto her hand, “Figured it’d be good for tonight—makes my clothes fall off.” She shrugged before licking up the strip of beer salt and throwing back the shot, picking up the lime wedge and sucking.

A moan of relief slipped out as the fresh citrus flooded her mouth. Eddie sat unmoving with his mouth gaping, hand still at the ready to take his shot. “Oh my god.” He breathed, taking the shot and matching her speed for courage.

Y/n hopped up as he set down his glass, sauntering through the door as he paid their tab and looked across the room to his buddies who sported amused and knowing looks as their friend stuck his tongue between his teeth in a victorious grin, slapping down a $10 tip on top of the total because he was feeling especially generous.

“Don’t get your hopes up, lover boy, we’ll still be here when you get back.” Her friend said pointedly, the rest of them sniggering along with Eddie’s friends. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He said incredulously, leaning his weight back on the door to meet his dream girl outside.

She stood under the lamppost smoking a cigarette, her jacket back around her shoulders, which made Eddie eager to take it off later. “Hey, there.” He smiled, shrugging on his own jacket, the leather cold before melting into warmth at the touch of his skin. “Hiya.” She giggled behind the cigarette.

Eddie allowed himself to act on his impulses and stepped closer to her until he had to look down, the end of her cigarette a few inches away from him before she removed it and turned away to blow the smoke— ‘What a sweetheart.’ He thought.

“Think I could have a hit off that?” He smiled, his eyes looking over her pretty face in the new lighting, her features so much clearer now. He couldn’t get over the shape of her lips, watching them stretch as she revealed the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

Instead of answering, she stuck her cigarette between his smiling lips, holding onto his shoulder to steady herself. He hummed contently at her promptness and wrapped an arm around her waist, finding the sliver of flesh that rested above the top of her jeans until he grasped her wrist and moved her hand away to exhale to the side and then interlace her other hand in his.

Y/n watched on thoughtlessly as he brought the new hand up to his lips to kiss her finger tips one at a time, then her knuckles and wrist, before flipping her hand over and pressing a kiss to her palm, nipping at it with his teeth and wrapping the arm around his neck— bringing her giggling lips to his and pulling her into a tight embrace, lips working against one another eagerly while his hands cradled her neck and upper back tenderly. Y/n didn’t realize it until she felt the shift of gravity, but she figured out Eddie was leaning her backward, trying to dip her romantically in his almost drunken state after the shot. Her hair fell back, the world slowly turning upside down at his hands, his kiss melting any sense of care away.

‘So what the moon is on the bottom and the cars are on top? I could hold onto him forever.’

‘You’re saying that because you’re drunk and horny, get on with it.’

They pulled away when they were almost falling, both of them laughing breathlessly. Eddie pressed one more kiss to her forehead before taking her hand and gently tugging on her to follow, “C’mon, pretty girl, lemme show you what else I got.” He teased, admiring how deeply pink her neck and chest were burning.

They ran like giggly school children together around the building, as if they’d get caught and have their parents called. Eddie relished in the warmth her hand gave him— wondering how warm they were about to be pressed up against each other in the van.

He unlocked the doors, swinging one open and gesturing inside, “After you.” He bit his lip, worried that at any point she’d turn back. Instead, Y/n raised her eyebrows at him briefly, shooting him a coy smile before taking his hand and stepping up and in. Eddie licked his lips and swung the door shut behind him.

From the moment he turned around, she was on him, her arm snaking around his neck, her other pulling his waist to hers by his belt loop and bringing him in for another hungry kiss.

The quiet of the van amplified the sounds they made together, every moan, gasp, smack, and groan audible, though neither of them minded, if anything they loved it. His hands found her hair, gently stroking it like he’d been dying to since he saw her flipping it around during his set.

He trailed his hand down the side of her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw sent shivers down her spine. She broke the kiss, pausing in the space between them before they went further. His eyes opened to see her looking at his lips, only looking into his eyes when he smiled softly, “You still good? We don’t have to, you know. I’ve had a lot of fun with you tonight.” He said easily, no hint of pettiness in his tone.

Y/n smiled at his words, leaning into his hand more, “I’m having a great time too,” he exhaled slowly, relief evident on his face. “I was just wondering if I needed to climb you like a tree or lay you down, big boy.” She winked with a smile on her lips, laughing when he flopped down to the floor immediately.

“You really just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?” He looked at her with wide eyes in amusement. “I swear everything you say does something to me, baby.” He mumbled, too busy watching her settle her body on top of his lap and strip off her shirt, revealing her lace bra. “Holy shit.” He gasped, wrapping his hands around her revealed bodice to get a better look at her while she leaned forward onto his chest to stroke him with her fingernails through his shirt.

Eddie sat all the way up to pull her body closer to his, “Holy fucking shit, you’re beautiful.” He struggled to look her in the eye as he bounced back and forth between her soft torso and beautiful face. She looked down at him patiently, not used to the compliments, soaking it all up while she could.

“Eddie?” She whispered, stroking his hair and pulling him from his thoughts. “Yes?” He asked earnestly, gazing into her eyes as if he were ready to do anything she asked of him, which he was. She leaned over by his ear, balling his shirt up in her fists, “Can we take this off?” She snickered, pressing a kiss to his cheek, followed by his jaw and neck.

His heart began hammering again as she mouthed at the crook of his neck, thoughts evaporating from his head—including his ability to speak. He remembered he needed to answer only when she slid her hands up underneath the hem at his side, a jolt of electricity sent straight to his dick at the contact.

“Oh, yeah,” he said through her kisses, allowing her to raise it above his head and discard it to the side with hers, her reaction to the rest of his tattoos stroking his ego as she bit her lip and ran her hands across him. “I want you to do whatever you want, sweetheart.” He whispered against her before diving back in for more.

He fixed his hands to the meat at her hips, grinding her on his cock that strained against his jeans. He smirked at the pretty little sound she made when she started moving her hips on her own, rolling them in a way that drove Eddie wild. His hands flew to her chest, massaging the plush of her breasts that begged to be let out of their confines.

“Baby, can I get rid of this?” He asked helplessly, stroking the skin above the clasp at her back. Y/n smiled, her nose bumping his as she nodded and said, “I want you to do whatever you want, sweetheart.” She bit her lip as he smiled like a child on Christmas morning. He went about popping the hooks from the small hoops and sliding the straps off her arms at a nice pace, consciously trying to make sure he wasn’t going too fast to freak her out or make her think he was too eager.

Eddie had his fair share of one night stands, fond memories for his spank bank until the next came along, but none of them compared to this. This was something he’d think of forever.

“Jesus Christ.” He said softly, his eyes taking in the ethereal sight—the bounce of her freed breasts as they fell and soft skin just begging to be marked up and grabbed.

But the best part was the tattoo that sat underneath them. “It’s beautiful.” He breathed, taking her waist in his hands and examining her body like art, trying to find the rest of her tattoos and not bust his load at her perky nipples looking so excited to see him.

“You’re divine, really, baby, I’ve never seen anyone like you before…” He trailed off in wonder, grazing his fingers softly over the ink. She looked at him looking at her, dazed and confused by this stranger’s courtesy and gentleness that could only match—

She tilted his chin up towards hers to stop the thoughts from rolling in, never thinking about Adam during times like these— let alone comparing him, and pressed a soft and hungry kiss to his lips, licking into his mouth. Eddie bucked his hips and groaned at the feeling of both her bare tits against his chest and her tongue in his mouth.

He went to work rubbing her breasts, easing her into a heated pile of mush on top of him, trying to get her to relax further into his touch. “You gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” He asked, nipping at her bottom lip to make her cry out.

“Yes, please fuck me, Eddie.” She whined breathlessly, their thrusts becoming more intense along with their breathing. Eddie laid her down backwards, her legs still around his hips as he kneeled above her, admiring the way her tits bobbed when she fell against the plush blanket pallet he kept.

Her eyes gleamed as they bore into his. He smiled down at her, brushing his fingers around her hairline and stopping at her cheekbone to unbutton her pants, her heart feeling content like a purring cat. “You’ve got me so wet, Eddie.” She whispered, palming her left tit and grazing her fingers down her stomach as he worked at sliding her pants off.

Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away from her touching herself the way she was, only ever seeing girls do it in magazines, he never thought he’d see one do it in real life. “I wanna watch you touch yourself,” He whispered, dropping her jeans next to her shirt and opening her legs slowly to encourage her.

Y/n didn’t answer, instead, she gave him a little smile and slid her hand into the front of her panties, sighing at the contact and writhing a little as she found exactly where she needed to touch. Eddie looked on in amazement, stroking himself over his jeans as he looked down at the angel laying in front of him. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” He mumbled and licked his lips at the wetness pooling in her panties and the bits of flesh he could make out around the straining fabric of the lavender cotton.

He sat there mesmerized at the way her fingers disappeared inside of her, the way she tweaked her clit in time with the thrusts of her wrist and the way she kept her eyes on him the whole time she did so, reminding him that even if he wasn’t touching her, he was the one making her feel good.

Eddie slowly stroked her hips where the elastic sat, tugging lightly at the band until she raised her ass off the floor so he could slip them off her legs and toss them to the growing pile. A thin sheen started to coat her skin, glittering in the dim light of the van. Eddie ran a light and tender hand up her leg and then rubbed encouraging circles on the inside of her thighs, aching to bury his face in her wetness and send her further into the abyss of pleasure.

Y/n rubbed herself gently, opening her eyes as Eddie’s hands came closer to her throbbing core. “Touch me, please…” she whined, looking at him as if she’s waited for his touch for years and then letting them fall shut. Eddie’s eyes widened, his cock desperately needing relief, her eye contact and plea just made it worse.

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” Eddie took off his boxers quickly, moaning in relief and stroking his dick as he eased on top of her, caging her in with his arms. She gasped when she opened her eyes again to see him naked and godly before her. “Is that okay?” He asked, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head, “Yes, please… Oh, fuck…” she groaned, feeling his weight on top of her as he adjusted her thighs around him, stroking her hips and lower back lovingly. “God damn, you’re so fucking soft, baby, I can’t get enough of you.” He breathed into her, reaching for her breast and meeting her for a warm and wet kiss, complete with teeth tugging lips, tongues licking skin, and quiet and satisfied giggles slipping out every now and then.

They reveled in each other’s nakedness, the feeling of skin on skin lighting them on fire—their hands and lips roaming everywhere.

Eddie took care to latch his mouth onto her nipple as he worked the other one with his tender touch. Her hands stayed in his hair, the mess of it scattered around him as he moved, though she didn’t mind.

Y/n thought she was going to lose her mind before he touched her pussy, swollen and dripping for him when he ran a tentative finger through her folds, “You want me as bad as I want you, don’t you, baby?” He set a slow yet satisfying pace, bumping her clit with every movement as her hand slipped further into his curls, tightening her grip to Eddie’s delight.

With every pant that left her came an adorable little noise, only audible in the space between them as they moved against one another. Eddie smiled to himself, his ego loving all of the praise this girl gave him.

“If you want something you need to ask for it—wanna make you feel good.” He said in between messy kisses along her shoulder. “Eddie, I need you to fuck me.” She whispered to him urgently, pulling his face up to hers with desperation.

“Uh, y-you don’t want me to eat you? C’mon baby, don’t get shy on me now.” He stammered, having been so close to the honey pot he desperately thirsted for. “Uh-uh..” She said, gently shaking her head ‘no’ and taking his cock in her hand.

Her hand traced the length of his shaft, pulling an inhuman grunt from him, a smirk of satisfaction crossing her face as he thrust his hips involuntarily. “Just, uh, lemme..fuck, lemme—lemme get a condom,” he managed through her firm strokes.

Eddie grabbed the chain on his pants, yanking his wallet out of his pocket to retrieve a gold foil package inside. Y/n admired his waist, tracing the dragon that wrapped around the side of his torso as he worked the condom on, stroking himself a couple times before moving back over her, who took no hesitation in wrapping her legs back around him, a giddy smile on her face that matched his. “C’mere, you pretty little thing.” He growled in her ear playfully while descending upon her, pressing his fingers into the plush of her thighs that enveloped him perfectly and kissing her giggling lips like they already belonged to him.

The laughter subsided as the kisses grew deeper and longer, when they pulled back and opened their eyes, they looked at each other like more than a couple strangers fucking in the back of a van for the first time— more like lovers who’d cross space and time to be together just for one night.

“You, uh, wanna put it in?” He asked, a blush dusting his cheeks as he hovered over her, stroking her bum and thigh as he waited. Y/n gently guided his member to her entrance while Eddie placed his other hand around her breast—poised to antagonize her nipple.

After the tip pressed against her, Eddie groaned as he sunk into her, his chest flattening onto hers until they could catch their breath. “You take me so well, baby, oh fuck,” He gasped next to her head, pushing some hair away from her ear and neck to dive down and nuzzle his face there.

“You fill me up so good, Eddie, oh my god.” She gasped as he propped himself up on his hands, gazing into her eyes as he started moving, her pussy gripping him so tight it’s hard for him to pull out and push back in. “Holy shit, do—is that good? Is that good for you?” He asked in quiet awe at the sensation they created together, in and out, in and out.

“Yeah— yeah, it is.” She said, fighting against the ecstasy she was slipping into to keep her eyes open. As Eddie worked his first few thrusts, he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together like they had many times that night, though Y/n was expecting him to hold her wrists above her head like she’s used to, but no. Eddie rested their joined hands next to her head and smoothed her hair affectionately.

“You’re such a pretty girl, y’feel so good on my cock...” He said in awe as he picked up the pace and sent a jolt to her throbbing core when he pinched and rolled her nipple in his other hand. Y/n let out a groan at the feeling, the sound only encouraging Eddie to do what he’d been dreaming of since the moment she took off her jacket in the bar.

Eddie smirked at her anguish, the sparkle in his eye only confirming the mischief he emanated. “You want me to take my time with you?” He panted, slipping his hand in between them and finding her clit, spreading their wetness over it before slowly circling it, knowing exactly how desperate she was to cum.

“No-No, no…please, no. I n-need you to go faster Eddie, I don’t want you to stop til you cum—“ without hesitation, Eddie adjusted his grip on her leg and pressed down on her clit, enough to scratch that unbearable itch that antagonized her deep in her nerves. “Holy shit, Eddie! Oh my god, keep going, yes!” Her back arched off the floor, her chin jutted upwards exposing her neck, which Eddie took advantage of and served up heated kisses all around her throat as she cried out.

“ ‘m close, Eddie, you’re so good, so fucking good!” She mumbled her eyes heavy and eyebrows scrunched in distress, her hand roamed his body with reckless abandon, giving feather light touches across his neck and shoulders then sinking her nails down his back and grabbing his hip as he slammed into her hot cunt.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, moving a hand from her chest to her throat while still holding her other hand tenderly next to them. “ ‘s this okay?” He whispered, keeping a light hold on her neck until she answered.

“Yeah..” She whispered pathetically, bringing her free hand on top of his and closing his grip around it the way she liked, just enough to get a little dizzy on top of the beer buzz, then moaning into his touch as she rocked against him the best she could while the sounds of skin slapping skin resounded between them. Eddie looked down at where they connected, unable to get enough of the sight of his cock burrowing inside of her.

“I want you to cum, baby, I wanna feel it—wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

“Lemme ride!” She insisted quietly like a secret. Eddie's eyes lit up at her enthusiasm and nodded before promptly rolling off of her, eager for her to be back in charge. He scooted himself against the back of the seat, “You want me here?” He asked as she crawled over to him. Eddie barely noticed his hands reaching out for her, but when he did she was already settling on his lap, his member standing between them as she laid a hand against his soft chest and used her other to stroke him. Eddie sighed as he circled his arms around her waist to pull her impossibly closer. “Yeah, baby, you’re perfect.” She whispered, though she didn’t mean to let it slip—the pet name or the word perfect. Eddie preened at the praise, desperate for her validation and affection.

She wasn’t usually one for pet names, or for praising her sexual partners. Up until now, sex felt transactional, and those things weren’t apart of the deal. But with Eddie the praises dropped from her lips effortlessly, and most times involuntarily.

Her hands found his hair, lightly raking her nails on his scalp which made him lean into her. Eddie felt like he hadn’t kissed her lips in years when she pressed hers to his in a thirsting kiss, chasing after his tongue with hers. They moaned into each other as she sat back down on his dick, not wasting any time in setting her quick pace.

Eddie's jaw dropped at the feeling, the warm, wet, silky tunnel that squeezed him so unmercifully he could hardly catch his breath, though he didn’t care because he was too busy bathing in her ecstasy. “Ohh, fuck me..” he groaned against her lips as she exclaimed in delight.

She pulled back from him, her hands holding his cheeks tenderly before dropping to his shoulders for more leverage. Eddie’s hands slithered down to her hips, focusing on the softness of her skin under his hands as he squeezed and squished. “Ohh, my god, angel.. I-I don’t know how much more I can take, I need you to cum, baby, can you? Can you come for me?” He pleaded softly and felt her tighten at his words, “Oh, you like it? You like it when I talk to you?” He tested, feeling her squeeze again and watching her bite her lip as she nodded, slowing her bounces to a roll, not wanting to leave this bubble of pure pleasure just yet.

Eddie moved his hands from her hips to her breasts, pinching both of her nipples in his fingers while he bucked his hips up against her. “Your body is so fun to play with, sweetheart.” He gazed into her sparkling eyes and then her mouth while waiting desperately for his kiss, moaned at the comment. “You think I’ll make you cum?” He asked, his low and gravelly tone masking his insecurity. Should she have finished by now? Maybe made more noises?

“Yeah, yeah—you’re doing so good!” She whispered eagerly before picking up her pace and kissing him passionately. They kissed until the sensation was too much, the electricity brewing within them lighting their cores on fire as they chased their orgasms together. Their noises were involuntary at this point, though listening to one another grunt and moan drove them further to the edge at a blinding speed.

“Eddie! Eddie, are you gonna cum with me?” She asked his lips desperately, now holding back from her climax til he could answer her. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, cum! Cum, baby, cum! Cum on my dick and I’ll cum for you.” He rambled like a madman, like an addict without a fix. He had no idea that this was just the first taste, that this was only the beginning.

His words wrapped her in a wonderful haze, everything was only Eddie. “Please, baby, let me make you cum. Let me take care of you.” He panted into her ear as he kissed and nibbled her neck just under it. “Oh, fuck!” She cried out, her core tensed before the white hot pleasure melted over her body, head to toe. “Eddie, I’m cumming! Cum with me, cum with me!” She pleaded, too busy basking in euphoria to feel pathetic. She grabbed at the back of his neck with both hands, engulfing his lips with hers.

Her sounds, her kiss, the walls of her pussy clenching around him—it was all too much. He cried out as his cock spasmed inside of her, rutting up into her roughly as he lived in her warmth and and rode out the rush that eventually faded right before she went limp on top of him.

They both fought to catch their breath, settling into one another in a new way. Y/n blinked hard, noticing how her arms and legs wrapped around him to keep close, and how he wrapped his arms around her waist for the same. The embrace was comforting, like a warm hug from someone you love after a long day—it felt like home.

She typically knew where to go from here, opting to throw her clothes back on and send the guy a ‘see you later!’ before going home and forgetting their name within a couple days. But with Eddie, she found herself reluctant to leave. Instead, she stayed in this little space for now; her lips grazing the soft pale skin of his shoulder, his heavy pants against hers. Her fingers buried in the back of his curls frizzy from the humidity they produced and tickling the side of her face, though it wasn’t unbearable. She felt like she could breathe deeper with his arms squeezing around her middle as if she were his teddy bear.

“God, you were amazing, angel.” He whispered to her with a smile, stroking the length of her back lovingly and curling his other fingers in her hair, trying to learn her body the way he craved. He wanted to remember exactly how it all felt—how she felt and made him feel.

She turned her head to look at him, lightly stroking the side of his face with her fingers and smiling softly, saddened at the prospect of leaving without any intention of seeing him again—though she wanted to deeply.

Y/n pulled him in for another kiss, this one much slower as she tried to memorize him. Her mind went warm and fuzzy as they set the passionate pace, each movement she made followed by ‘Last one… another one, just one more..’ until she felt Eddie adjust them to lay backwards and begin to roll on top of her, his cock hardening again already.

“Eddie,” She panted into him as he fixed his grip on her legs, pushing her knees back and pulling a sigh from her as he continued to kiss her swollen lips. “Eddie,” she groaned as he kissed her neck again, lightly tilting her chin back with his hand and making her melt into his touch.

“I’m not afraid to stay here with you all night, baby, just tell me what you want…” He whispered, stroking the side of her neck with his thumb as he spoke into her ear.

“I-I have to go, Eddie, I’m sorry.” She managed, pushing some hair away from his face. His eyes widened at her words, caught off guard. “Oh, I’m sorry! Was I keeping you?” He sat upright, grabbing her clothes for her and handing them over before picking up his own and stripping off the condom and tying it off to be dealt with later.

“No, no, you’re fine—great, even!” She scrambled to yank on her pants, ignoring the amused smirk that sat on Eddie’s face as he tugged his own black denim over his boxers and admired her as if he’d never had her before.

She threw on her bra and leaned over to adjust her breasts in the cups, pulling a soft gasp from Eddie—he had no idea watching a girl get dressed was just as fun as watching her get undressed. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she made eye contact with him, sending him a sly smile and wink as she prepared to tug her shirt over her head.

Eddie grabbed her shoes and set them in front of her, spotting his pack of cigarettes by the rest of his clothes and grabbing one out to light as she tied her laces. He noticed the windows were fogged and he smiled around the filter while he puffed.

Though he’d watched her dress, he turned one more time to make sure she was decent before opening up the back doors to the van, the cool night air drifting in and tickling the moisture that collected at their hairlines during the fun.

“So, uh, I-I had a really good time with you tonight.” He fumbled, quickly placing his cigarette back in his mouth after he’d spoken. Y/n smiled at his nervousness and nodded in agreement. “Me too, it’s uh, it’s been a while since it’s been that good for me—with another person, you know?” She said candidly, inwardly shocked she was able to muster up the confidence to share that.

Eddies eyes widened at the information, a hopeful leap in his chest told him that sex made her open up—made her feel close. He nodded in response, removing the cigarette and exhaling. “Y-Yeah, yeah, for sure. I, uh, don’t have many one night stands, but, uh, I can say for sure that it hasn’t been like that before.” He nodded, then realized he said one night stand. His face turned to hers quickly, the alarm apparent in his eyes.

She must’ve noticed his panic, leaning in to place a quick peck on his lips before nicking his cigarette and taking a drag. He chuckled softly as she hopped out of the back and stood in front of him between his legs, retrieving her jacket and shrugging it over her shoulders, fixing her hair in the process. He placed patient hands on her waist, letting her smoke as much as she wanted to if it meant she stayed with him longer.

“When can I see you again?” He asked hopefully.

Y/n giggled, handing him the cigarette back, which he accepted reluctantly. “That’s not very ‘one night stand’ of you, is it, Eddie?” She teased, testing if his big brown eyes deflated in hope a little, though really it looked like it took the air from him.

“How about…” she trailed off and averted her eyes to the ground, searching for a reason to see him again that isn’t more than what it can be. She shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of seeing him again, let alone wishing she could stay the night. He felt so familiar.

Eddie searched for her gaze with his, successfully pulling her eyes back on him. “How about, I come see Corroded Coffin again? You said you play here often— how often?” She asked, putting her arms on his shoulders and grinning when his hands found her arms and rubbed them softly as he nodded. “We play again next friday.” He smiled.

She nodded at him thoughtfully, not fully present but stuck in the corner of her mind that told her she was being indulgent, that leaving Danny once a month to go out with her friends was selfish as it is, not to mention sleeping with strangers just to feel something, to feel reckless as safely as possible, to feel her age— was too much. She wasn’t supposed to do things people her age did, she was a mother, and she sure as hell wasn’t supposed to feel this with someone else, the way it only felt with—

“I’ll see you next Friday.” She nodded decidedly, turning on her heel and beginning her walk to the front of the building, though Eddie caught up quickly to catch her arm before she could get any further. “Wait, wait, wait, one more?” He asked, taking a hopeful lip waiting between his teeth as he held her close.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at him before taking his face in her hands and laying a deep kiss to his lips, relishing the butterflies that fluttered relentlessly in her stomach when his hands slipped around her body one last time, pulling back slowly and hesitating before disconnecting their bodies. Eddie quickly took her face in his, sprinkling kisses all over her face, “Thank you, sweet girl.” He said as she giggled.

“Lemme walk you inside?” He asked like a sweet freshman boy at the end of his first date. Y/n sighed, self hatred spreading through her mind like a disease as she nodded with a smile. Eddie grinned and darted back to the van to retrieve his shirt and pull it over his head on his way back, holding out an expectant hand for her that made her heart both flutter and sink, somehow.

The only noise between them on their walk was the crunch of gravel beneath their shoes and the sounds of the night in summertime. Eddie swung their hands between them, a smile tugging at his lips as he tried to stay forward facing.

He opened the door of the bar, looking her over once more and halting her to fix her jacket collar with a focused tongue between his lips before allowing her to continue and opening the door again.

Their groups were a little drunker than they left them, talking amongst themselves and producing boisterous laughter as they walked in. “Ohh ho, look who it is!” Gareth bellowed, pointing a finger at his friend who looked so proud under his blush.

Y/n’s friends looked at her hand intertwined with Eddie’s, sending her taunting looks that said ‘we are definitely talking about this later’ and bit back chuckles unsuccessfully. She looked at her best friend Stella, who took a nonchalant sip to cover her smirk while obviously averting eye contact.

“W-We gotta go, friends!” Y/n tapped her always watchless wrist, not wanting to keep her sitter waiting forever. The girls nodded in silent understanding, always aware of the curfew she kept for herself, and stood to collect their things and pay their tabs.

The members of Corroded Coffin looked at Eddie with sparkling and expectant eyes, ready to hear about the details as soon as the ladies left the premises. Eddie had recounted his sexcapades to his friends in the past, the storyteller in him going off on all the details—both educating them and giving them material for the spank bank.

But this time he wanted to hold onto it for himself—this girl was special and she made him feel special. Something about her essence was addicting, not to mention her face was the best one he’d ever seen.

“I’ll, uh, see you later, Eddie.” She mumbled to him, easing her hand out of his. “Looking forward to it.” He smiled softly, watching her go until the others were leaving out the doors. Sabrina hung behind and looked him over as if she were sizing him up, followed with a curt nod before disappearing out the doors.

Eddie let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as the boys applauded. “I must say, I am very impressed, my friend. I can’t believe you got her back to your van so fast, wow.” Gareth speculated drunkenly to Eddie’s annoyance.

“Don’t talk about her that way. That doesn’t mean anything, girls can do whatever they want, especially if it benefits me. I would’ve taken her back to my place if she hadn’t had some curfew to beat or something. Besides, she’s coming back next week.” He said, turning a chair around backwards and straddling it while picking up a beer from the table and taking a sip. “Whoa, you have another date?” Jeff gaped. “A curfew?” Gareth asked with disbelief.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “This wasn’t a date, we just met—and I don’t know if you’d even call it a date, it’ll probably just be a repeat of tonight, and so what Emerson, like your mom isn’t on your ass about being home by 2am even if you’re a big boy now.” Eddie jeered, Gareth rolling his eyes. “Alright, say she does come back and you guys go round two, then what?” Grant asked.

Eddie paused, pursing his lips for a moment as the boys leaned forward in anticipation. “I’m following her lead so… guess I’ll know next week.” He shrugged.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

On an excruciating car ride home, while receiving the third degree from her friends as they howled out mocking cries of ‘Eddie! Oh god, give it to me’ and ‘And you were holding HANDS! What was that all about??’ Y/n did her best to defend her time with Eddie without showing she liked it too much.

“H-He’s really sweet, alright?” Y/n shrugged their taunts off, turning her attention to the radio and puffing on her last cigarette of the night—cause she was trying to cut back. “Did you see the way he looked at her though??” Mollie shrieked from the back seat, her eyes wide in amazement. Stella laughed from the steering wheel, “Like a lovesick puppy!” She agreed. Y/n blushed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, dudes do that sometimes.” She countered, mostly to convince herself.

“Okay, but— the way he didn’t wanna let go of your hand? C’mon. You’ve gotta give the poor guy a chance.” Mollie nudged her shoulder, earning a weak push back from Y/n who scoffed, “Well you’re about to be so pleased.” She smirked behind her cigarette as the whole car hushed, “Wait a damn minute, are you going out? Did he ask? Did you say yes?” Mollie freaked.

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down, Molls, I only told him we’d come back next Friday to listen to the band again.” She shrugged again, the silence already annoying.

“Oh, my GOD.” Stella exclaimed, “You do like him.” Stella argued, “Do not! Not like that.” Y/n shot back.

Everyone in the car collectively eyerolled and groaned, “How do you not? You don’t go to bars more than once a month and suddenly you wanna come back to this one next week just cause he’s, what, fun? You have plenty of fun, we all know it! And you should! But what’s so wrong with liking him? You’re allowed to love people, Y/n/n.” Stella urged while keeping her eyes on the road.

Y/n couldn’t look at any of her friends, either, unable to come up with another reason to see Eddie— one that didn’t involve her budding feelings for him, or at least the way he made her feel.

“C’mon, play pretend for a minute and tell me all the things about Eddie that made you fluttery inside.” Stella suggested, Kathy and Mollie nonchalantly leaning in to listen. Y/n sighed to the stars out the open car window, pausing before she chose to respond.

“…if I did like Eddie… it’d be because he talked to me, like actually talked to me.. It’d be because he didn’t make me feel like a piece of meat when he bought me the drink—it never felt like he expected anything in return…He never made me feel like sex was something I had to do, up until the last moment he was always asking as if I’d change my mind..

And when I told him I wanted to he told me he’d take me anywhere, to his house, to his car—if I asked him to get a motel room I bet he would. That guy makes me feel like he’d do anything I asked and it’s weird. No, not weird—scary. I can’t tell if it’s real or not, and if it is, isn’t that scarier? I’m not ready for that kind of commitment, and what if I hurt a good guy? Not to mention Danny. No 20 something year old dude is going to want someone else’s three year old boy hanging around—making me flake on dates, pitching fits when he is around, it’s just the facts. I’m not ready.” She cased.

Silence fell over the car as they pulled into Y/n’s driveway. “Y’know, you made some really good points, Y/n.” Stella said, putting the car in park. Mollie and Kathy looked at Stella in disbelief, “She did?”

“I mean, yeah, it’s every reason anyone ever decided against taking their chance on love. I just thought she’d have better reasons, or better yet; I thought she’d be braver than all of those things.” Stella shrugged, her words catching Y/n’s attention like rubbing alcohol on a scrape.

“I mean, c’mon, man, you did the whole ‘against-the-odds-teen-parent’ thing, and you’re rocking that shit, I might add.” She pointed at the young mother from across the console who blushed at the compliment and rolled her eyes trying to feign annoyance, though the girls knew how awful she was at handling praise.

“I never thought you’d be so afraid of love, man. Adam would want you to be happy, he’d want Danny to grow up with a good guy in his life!”

“Well, Adam’s not here.” Y/n bit back, the annoying prickly stinging at her eyes clouding her pride as she regretted her words. Stella hesitated before she reached out for her friend's shoulder. “I know. I know he isn’t,” Stella sighed, “But tell me I’m wrong, Y/n/n.”

Y/n looked at Stella and then Mollie and Kathy who sat patiently in the back and sighed, their eyes engaged on the conversation with quiet care. “I can’t.” She mumbled, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Just think about it! You don’t have to have it all figured out yet.” She nodded encouragingly.

Y/n glanced at the front door and the porch light buzzed as moths darted all around it, mesmerized and unsatisfied. She stepped out of the vehicle and shut the door, leaning down to the open window. “Are we good to go for next Friday or am I going alone?” She asked, hoping she didn’t sound desperate.

The friends looked between each other and giggled, “We wouldn’t miss it. But you’re talking him into buying us a round before you ditch us, again!” Mollie jeered and stuck her tongue out. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and tapped the window sill twice, “I gotta get in there. I love you guys. Drive safe! Gimme a call when you’re home.” She looked at all of them pointedly and jogged up the steps to her house.

She slipped through the door quietly, hanging her keys on the hook and stepping through to the living room.

“Hey! How was it?” Robin Buckley chirped softly from the recliner, setting down the remote as she stood. “It was.. needed!” She smiled. “How’d Danny boy do?” She asked, nodding towards the toddler’s room. “Great, as usual. You gotta stop worrying,we have a whole routine now! We watched the ninja turtles, played some pirates, skipped out on bath time, cause—you know,” she rolled her eyes and shrugged, referring to Danny’s problems with the water, “We ordered pizza for dinner; when I asked him what kind he looked me dead in the eyes and said ‘I eat all the pizza.” She laughed, giving her best impression of Danny’s small voice.

Y/n grinned softly, “How was he with bedtime?” She scanned the living room and through the kitchen door, looking for any stray toys or food that needed to be picked up.

“We read Green Eggs and Ham-“

“Again?” Y/n asked exasperatedly, a smile of disbelief hung on her face. Robin chuckled as she moved to the door to grab her jacket. “Three times, actually, that boy needs all the proper voices, apparently.” Robin rolled her eyes and shrugged at the boy's antics.

“Ahh, of course the voices, how could I forget?” Y/n joked, recalling all the nights Danny insists on turning back to the pages that weren’t properly read. “Someday I’ll get them right, you watch!” Robin insisted as she quietly unhooked her keys from beside the door, opening the large black door slowly.

“Wait, Robin!” She called fumbling for her purse to hand the sitter a few bills.

“Uh-uh. Nope. Nice try though! I don’t want money to watch my nephew, I’m just glad you guys finally moved closer so I can spend more time with you guys!” She said, with a genuine smile. Y/n sighed and looked at her with her head cocked, knowing that Robin shared Adam’s stubbornness, always doing for others without wanting anything in return—both a best friend to everyone around them.

“You’re too much alike.” Y/n scoffed, shoving the bills in her purse, making a mental note to slip it in her backpack or jacket sometime when she wasn't looking. Robin smiled bitterly, thinking of her late cousin—who was more like a brother. Adam spent a lot of time growing up staying at his Aunt Ginger’s house, growing close with Robin as the years passed.

When Y/n and Adam hit high school and made their love official, Robin quickly became one of Y/n’s closest friends. From the moment Danny was placed in Robin’s arms, she made a promise to herself and to her cousin that she would help his little boy live the happiest life as much as she could contribute.

“I’m happy to help! Really, don’t ever hesitate to call. He’s my best friend! Except for maybe Steve, but Danny’s way better to talk to,” Robin jokes, stepping out onto the porch when an idea hits her, “Maybe next time you can drop Danny at mine and moms for a sleepover and you can bring someone home for once.” She nodded encouragingly, yet another person in Y/n’s life vying for her to give love another chance.

Y/n scoffed and went to close the door with an eye roll when Robin stuck her boot in the door. “Y/n, I’m serious. Think about it, that’s all I’m saying.” She shrugged one shoulder and looked at the ground briefly. Y/n sighed, “Why would I wanna bring some rando home with me—Where my kid lives?”

Robin’s eyes grew heavy with good intentions, “I don’t mean a rando, Y/n! Would it be so bad to try? I know you said you will when you’re ready but—“

“And I will let you know when that day comes, Robs, I promise. And I’ll keep your offer in mind. I know Danny would love to see Gigi and eat monkey bread all evening.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes in feigned annoyance, sending Robin a smile.

Robin nodded, a content smile on her lips as she turned to leave but abruptly stopped and turned back,“I have to ask.. any luck tonight?” She asked mischievously. Y/n gaped and turned red, embarrassed at the amount of people involved in the details of her sex life.

“Wh-Robin! I-Why—how?”

“Oh my god, you so did. I thought you looked slightly disheveled when you walked in! Anyone I’d know?” She asked eagerly, as Y/n turned her by the shoulders out the door. “I hope not, see you later Robin, let me know when you get home, loveyoubyee!” She flipped on the porch light and shut and locked the door as Robin howled with laughter from the porch. “I’ll remember this, Y/n/n!”

Y/n kicked off her shoes, taking in the quietness of the house at night—her sanctuary. She walked to her bedroom, pausing to stick her head inside her son's room, his sleeping head just visible over the mound of blankets he insisted on having with him at night. She moved inside stealthily and moved the blankets further away from his face, her mom heart still cautious after two years of peaceful nights.

She continued to her room at the end of the hall, unbuttoning her pants and kicking them off by the door on her way to her bathroom at the other side of the closet. Carefully rubbing the ruined mascara around her eye, she turned on the water to shower.

As she sat down against the tub and stripped her shirt off, her time with Eddie flashed through her mind—remembering how his hands felt around her waist when she last took off her clothes; warm and rough.

The way his voice sounded when his breath panted against hers; warm and rough.

The way his kiss felt working against hers; warm and rough. She could almost feel their tongues in tandem; sometimes visible between them, others tucked away inside each other’s mouths like a home. She missed the way he tasted.

The way his eyes bore into hers like she was all he ever wished for, so intently. So warm and rough.

She shook the thoughts from her head, guilt shrouding her like the world's heaviest quilt. Crying often occurred after sex, though it was typically short lived because she was able to talk herself through it, assuring herself that she wasn’t betraying him, or trying to replace what they had. But this time felt different.

It started off as a sigh, though another deep breath was needed, which turned into quiet sobs. ‘Breathe deeply, don’t hyperventilate.’ She reminded herself, trying to switch off her brain for a minute and let herself cry.

‘He made me feel like he used to.’

‘He made me feel like I was doing everything right while I felt I was doing something so wrong.’

‘I am a single woman doing single woman things, it shouldn’t be this hard.’

‘Even if I gave him a chance he wouldn’t want someone else’s kid.’

‘No one gets serious with a single mom.’

‘He looked at me like I was everything to him.’

‘It all came so easily; the conversation, the sex, it was like magic.’

‘It’s too good to be true is what it is.’

As the thoughts rolled deeper and deeper, she wiped her face and picked herself up off the floor and into the shower. As soon as the steam cleared her senses, she could properly smell her hair; the smokey scent of the bar along with.. Eddie’s cologne.

Her tears halted, picking up a large chunk of her hair and bringing it to her nose to revel in him one more time before she had to wash him away. She tried to focus on the sounds around her and the feeling of the cold soap hitting her hands before working it in her palms and scrubbing her hair, but the safe warm feelings Eddie brought her lingered.

After accepting the calls from Stella and Robin, confirming their safety, Y/n peeled back the covers of her too big bed and slipped inside, positioning her pillows around herself to throw a leg and arm over.

She wondered what it would’ve been like for him to throw a blanket over the two of them, settle into his chest, plant kisses there and trace his beautiful face, holding him exactly like this, kissing him some more, asking him more questions about his life..

But of course, those weren’t possibilities because toddlers come before boys, always. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t think about it.

And think about it she did, until she couldn’t hold her eyes open anymore, drifting off to dream about his curly hair fanned out around him on her pillow, his hands intertwined with hers, and his smiling cheeks accepting her doting kisses.

Part 2?

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those

@samlealea

[asimpwithfreetime]

May I please request a Yandere! Platonic Sully Family x Daughter! Reader fic? Where she’s Lo’ak’s younger twin and she’s very much like her dad’s twin Tommy. Maybe she’s the brains and would often be the mature one between her and Lo’ak? And they’re just protective over their baby girl. Was thinking of the fic showing what her life was like, like with all the scenes from the movie that were all family-focused up until they join the Metkayina and they learn their ways, maybe she gets some attention from boys of the Metkayina clan. Maybe she’s the one that gets shot and ALMOST dies and the family is just enraged and go on a killing spree with the RDA? And when she recovers she’ll be doted on?

I love the idea. In my whole life as a fanfic writer (I have another account we’re I’ve been writing since I was 12) I have never written platonic relationships so I don’t know how it is going to go. But I’ll try my best! I hope you like it.

It was going to be too much if I did everything that was asked there, so I just did the daily life of her with her family and what would happen if, once in the Metkayina clan, boys would flirt with her.

My family (Yandere! Platonic Sullys x younger daughter! Reader)

Pairings: ALL OF THEM PLATONIC. Yandere! Jake Sully x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neytiri x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neteyam x baby sis! Reader, yandere! Lo’ak x younger twin! Reader, yandere! Kiri x younger sister! Reader and Tuk x older sister! reader

Content warning: not proofread yet, English isn’t my first language

General warnings: Yandere actions, obsessive behavior, violence

[ 3rd person POV ]

The Sully family was well structured. Everyone had a role. Tuk was the only one that could do what she wanted. Apart from her, everyone’s role was to protect Y/n and be there for her. From Jake to Kiri, even her twin brother Lo’ak.

No one had made up that rule or spoken about it. They all got the idea the moment she opened her eyes for the first time.

She was a blessing from Eywa and her family loved her very much. So much that they had the feeling that they had to protect her until their very last breath.

She hadn’t noticed yet, but she had triggered the “yandere” gene in her family. In a platonic way, all they wanted was for her to love them as equally and to be protected.

Jake needed his goodnight cuddles with his baby or he felt sad and he begged Neytiri to tug Y/n into bed every night. Neytiri loved to teach her how to hunt and to protect herself. She felt proud of her baby, even though she would never let her go on her own.

Neteyam loved to have his little sister around. Cuddles were his favorite. But just having her in his line of vision was enough to keep him calm and collected. He also adored the way Y/n had him as her hero.

Lo’ak sometimes bickered with her, they were twins after all. But he knew how much he needed her, she had the brain and he had the muscle. He loved seeing her laugh when he said something funny.

Kiri enjoyed time alone with her sister as well. Kiri was far more introverted than the rest and she liked a good book an telling her sister curious things about Pandora.

Tuk was just happy that everyone loved Y/n and her. She was the real baby of the house.

Y/n, completely oblivious to all of this she was happy to have such a loving family. She loved each one equally and she enjoyed time with each of them. She didn’t see the arguments the siblings sometimes had over who would spend time with you that day. Usually if things got too serious Neytiri would intervene while Jake pulled you aside so you wouldn’t have to witness it.

Even if they loved each other, all of them longed to be the protector of Y/n. If something ever happened to her they would go completely crazy.

Changing homes wasn’t something easy for anyone, but they pulled their feelings away to take care of Y/n’s. Even though she assured them she was doing fine.

She flew in Jake’s ikran. She had one but the family thought it would be safer. A few hours before taking off they fought over who would hold you. Neytiri was going to go with Tuk so she acted as a mediator. Jake won being the dad.

Once in the Metkayina clan, all of the other Na’vi could see the circle that the family instinctively made around Y/n. Ao’nung and his friends had their eyes on her right away, they made Neteyam and Lo’ak give them death glares.

A few days into the clan, everyone was adapting just fine, on their own rhythm. Neteyam was sly and made Lo’ak go with Tsireya. He did find the young Metkayina cute, but he shouldn’t look anywhere but Y/n. What if she hurt herself? What if Ao’nung tried to harass her for having demon blood?

WHAT IF HE TRIED TO WOO HER?

Lo’ak’s blood boiled at the thought. No one was good enough for his sister.

“Teyam!” Y/n smiled from her ilu, she waved at her brother with a sweet smile and that beautiful nickname he loved. “Look!” She splashed around.

“Very good, Y/n!” He beamed at her. Rotxo stopped helping Neteyam for a moment. “If you want to get an ilu we should get further from them” he said. Neteyam shook his head. He needed to be close, otherwise something could happen to her.

And he would rather die before letting her alone with Ao’nung. “C’mon demon child, try to go into the sea with your ilu” he said with a mischievous smile. He was flirting with her, no doubt.

Neteyam’s expression darkened and soon Lo’ak joined him. “Are you trying to flirt with our baby sister?” Lo’ak said, getting awfully close to Ao’nung. “So what if I am?” The Metkayina taunted.

“This happens” Lo’ak said before punching him. Y/n’s eyes widened. “Lo’ak! Stop!” She said, she felt scared, she had never seen her brothers be violent with anyone.

“Come with me, Y/n” Neteyam ordered. The sweet tone king forgotten. Y/n did as told when he pulled her wrist. “Teyam! Why is he doing that?” She said getting further from the fight. They reached were Kiri was. “Take her to the hut” he informed. Kiri nodded. “Let’s go, you don’t wanna see that, do you?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, of course not!” Y/n replied. When they got to the hut it was empty. The fight had gotten out of hand, Neteyam and Lo’ak were in bad condition, but Ao’nung and his other friends were worse.

Jake came into the hut first, looking awfully angry. “Now you two are going to explain to me WHY THE HECK YOO WERE FIGHTING RIGHT AFTER WE INSTALLED OURSELVES!” He roared to his two sons.

“Ao’nung was hitting on Y/n” Lo’ak informed. When he named her all of them looked at her. “Then good job son!” He said, his mood swinging completely.

“But dad! Fights aren’t good” Y/n tried to reason. Jake’s arms trapped her in a bear hug. “They were protecting you, baby. We all do. If they fight to keep you safe it is perfectly fine” he kissed the top of her head with love.