#Phone call happened and then after the events ended. Uh yeah.

[angstivylupidene]

so apparently Cesar and Mark had a toxic friendhsip.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Seventeen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [All possible tags listed, all may not apply] warning: suicidal ideation no smut this chapter sorryyyy

Info: the boy is going through it. [diary entries from Ani {dates are odd but I promise it’ll make sense later}] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

September 9th, 11:53 pm

Anakin immediately reacted to your sudden, startled jolt. The gasp you’d inhaled had him momentarily concerned you may have hurt yourself in some way, it sounded pained and although he wasn’t sure what it could’ve been, that didn’t mean he could dismiss the idea entirely.

”You okay babydoll? What happened?” He asked, setting aside his Xbox controller to give you his full attention.

”Yeah!” You squeaked, nodding your head quickly, though your movements were perceived as slow by you. “Yeah, just uh, one of those weird ‘almost asleep but suddenly I’m falling’ things.”

”Oh…” He nodded, relaxing a little bit. “Do you need me to get you some water or something? That kind of thing is stress induced you know.”

”Yes.” You swallowed hard, fighting a lump in your throat that just refused to diminish. “I know, uh I think maybe I’ll just go to the bathroom.”

“Well, alright.” He said, giving you a critical once-over before waving you off and returning to his game.

Scurrying off to the bathroom in the most awkward way you possibly could, you shut the door with a bit more strength than anticipated, causing Anakin to call out and check on you. One forced ‘all good’ later, you were sitting on the closed toilet lid with your head in your hands. The initial panic was beginning to fade now that you’d removed yourself from the situation, making room for fear to frost over your skin and halt your critical thinking.

Ghost could be anyone, logically you know that. So there is no reason to fly off the handle and accuse someone you care deeply about of committing many, many crimes. There isn’t any way for you to peacefully have such a conversation without it feeling like an attack. In the event you are wrong, such an assumption would no doubt spell the end of the one and only stable, loving relationship you’ve ever had.

If you’re right… well.

But you’re not. Of course you’re not, how could Anakin be capable of some of the things, any of the things Ghost has done? He’s a gentle giant, the guy who would rather scoop up spider in his bare hands to set it outside instead of squashing it. He makes you feel special and adored, your moments with him are calm and caring. He’s practically the polar opposite of Ghost.

Ghost has his moments, few and far between, where he is more than the mask. The moments when he’s less grey and more moral. Less animal and more man. He’s what you’d expect a jar of licorice would be like personified. The candy no one likes, the one that gets over looked and outright hated on. But the people who actually like licorice, they defend it until their dying breath and it seems like you’ve become quite fond of the bitter sweetness and the tough to chew exterior. Once you get past it, it’s really not so bad. Just like Ghost.

you shook yourself out of the stupor you were in, standing up to turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face, hoping to startle some sense back into yourself. After patting the sensitive skin dry, you pulled out your phone and promptly brought up your own contact info, dialing the number to call Ghost. It rang, once, twice, three times before disconnecting. He had hung up on you.

He had never hung up on you before this moment. While you knew he had every right to ignore you, perhaps never even speak to you again… you couldn’t let this go. So you tried again and again and-

‘What do you want?’ The text chimed through just before you could hit the call button one last time.

‘I think we should talk soon.’

’Why the fuck do you want that? You’re calling me this late for that? You should be groveling for forgiveness.’

‘This is me groveling?’ You audibly huffed at his response, waiting for him to send a follow up or not.

‘You can do better than that. I’ve seen you beg for cock, you know how to grovel.’ He responded.

‘Does it matter?’

’yes.’ Was the simple reply, short and sweet and read in his voice he uses when he snaps at you.

‘Nevermind.’

’fuck off.’

’Really?’ Outwardly scoffing at the text when it popped up on your screen.

‘Oh no, did I hurt the baby’s feelings?’

‘I should be meaner.’

‘But I won’t.’

Three texts in a row, three texts all containing completely different tones. Sarcastic, irritated, and ‘pissed but i still love you’. You thought about replying, started typing out a message but erased it, only to do it again. Finally you decided against replying at all, turning off your sound and putting the phone back into your pocket, flushing the toilet for appearances sake and running the water again.

You planned to head back to the living room, but saw that Anakin was cleaning up… sloppily, but still. He was straightening out the throw pillows and blankets, returning his controller to its spot beside the tv and pushing all the stuff on the coffee to one side, then calling it finished.

“Anakin. Are you alright?” You asked, standing in the entryway to the very short hall.

“Yes.” The word short and clipped.

“You sure?” Your voice was meek, timid, as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to sound… nit-picky or anything; it’s just that your cleaning habits seem to have changed and I know how you are about having a clean space.”

“The first thing you say to me after coming back from the worlds longest piss is ‘hey why’s your house messy?’ Really?” He scoffed, his eyes flickering down to your hands, your pockets.

“I don’t mean it like that.” You frowned, your eyebrows pinching together in a show of frustration. “I’m just worried that’s all, you never leave stuff like this, especially before bed.”

“No, no.” Anakin waved your half-apology off like he didn’t care to hear anymore from you. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get right on it.”

“Hey, it’s late. Don’t-“

“Shut up alright? Just… just go to bed.” Anakin snapped, shooting a glare over his shoulder at you.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” You asked quietly, your face morphing into something resembling disappointment. He’d said that to you jokingly plenty of times, but this time, you knew without a doubt he meant it. The way it was delivered spoke volumes to how he was feeling.

Anakin sighed, turning around to run both hands through his hair and ruffle it up frustratedly. His arms crossing over his chest tightly, clenching his fists with his jaw set firmly, the muscle rolling beneath the skin when he gritted his teeth.

“I am sorry.” He said enunciated every syllable, almost looking through you rather than at you.

“Is it because of the pill?” You asked, meaning only to understand the situation better, though causing it to worsen.

“What an astute observation baby!” Anakin sneered, throwing his hands up frustratedly. “Wow. Now if only you could poke your cute little head a bit farther out of your ass. Yeah?”

“What do you mean?” Questioning him didn’t seem like the best option currently, but what else were you supposed to do?

“It… it really doesn’t matter.” He grumbled, spinning away from you to walk toward his kitchenette. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll feel better if I clean up. I’ve just been so stressed.” He hissed the last word, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Can- will you let me help at least? It’ll get done quicker.” You offered, trying to be helpful might distract him and you from everything else.

“No.” He sighed, his hands laced behind his head, his shirt riding up just a bit as he leaned backward to stretch. “No, I want to do it. Just go to bed. Please?”

“Kisses?” You asked quietly, clasping your hands in front of you awkwardly.

“Yeah, yes of course.” Anakin softened, coming toward you with open arms and an odd expression on his face.

Pretty, clear, sapphire eyes rake over your visibly anxious body. He seemed stuck between barreling past you to lock himself in the bedroom, scooping you up to hold and console you, maybe even smacking you if you spoke a few more tart words.

He did none of those. Instead he gingerly touched your face and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his expression unchanging in an uncomfortable way. His gaze piercing straight through you, burning upon entry and icing over at the exit. The muscles all relaxed save for the few pulling the corners of his mouth downward in a subtle frown. You hated it when he went blank like this, his emotions were completely unreadable, his skin taking on the properties of stone to stay cemented in place. A physical example of someone taking brick and mortar to their heart and mind.

“C’mon. I’ll put you to bed.” He said softly, nodding toward the closed bedroom door.

Turning the handle and pushing the door open, he led you into the cozy space that you were so hesitant to enter earlier. You braced yourself to have your fear confirmed, thinking you may find a hair band that didn’t belong to you, a false eyelash, the scent of someone new on your pillowcase. But as you walked to your side of the bed, stepping over a few stray clothes in the floor, you surveyed the nightstands, his was uncharacteristically crowded with cups and a collection of gum wrappers, yours was just the way you left it.

Technically, your ‘nightstand’ was really just half of his dresser. What wasn’t occupied by his large and ever growing hoard of shiny chains and oversized jewelry, rings, belts, wrist cuffs and the like; was home to a few of your things. It was mostly just for convenience sake, you did live just across the hall. All you really needed here was a little pink basket with your name sharpied on it that he’d bought for you containing all your ‘girlish possessions’.

Hair bands, bobbi pins, a scrunchie and a large hair clip tucked away in a small, clear plastic case that lay at the bottom of the basket. He even got your brand of mascara, concealer, foundation, blush and lipgloss in a cute heart shaped makeup bag. Among the other items he’d gotten for you were a hair brush, perfume, deodorant, a phone charger, your very own reusable water bottle (so you’d stop crawling over him and chugging his water at 2:00am), and a pink shark plushie that only slept in his bed when you were there.

You’d added your own items of course, your favorite shirt of his, some clean underwear and a pair of shorts and socks. Sometimes you just can’t be bothered to walk across the hall for such trivial things. It’d be nice to have a drawer like he has at your place, but the poor boy has so many clothes the things hardly close at all. So your basket serves you just fine.

After grabbing the charger and scrunchie you climbed in bed, already in pajamas. Already in pajamas. You moved from the mattress like you’d been burned, searing, scorching guilt licking at your palms to make them sweat. Anakin had been to distracted by picking up his dirty clothes and tossing them in the laundry basket tucked inside his closet to notice your knee-jerk reaction to the reminder that you were still in the clothes, still in the panties, that Ghost had lovingly peeled off your lustful flesh.

The panties that still had a little wet spot in the crotch, the ones he’d taken off just before your confession. The ones he threw at you in grieving anguish as he left you behind for the night. Thank the gods for those extra clothes, you grabbed them and swiftly went across the hall, passing a befuddled Anakin who watched you as you walked with purpose to the bathroom.

You couldn’t sleep next to him in that sinned in fabric. Even if he was being a complete ass, he didn’t deserve that kind of disrespect. So you freshened up and changed clothes, rolling the dirty ones into a tight ball as if it’d squeeze out some of the shame before you tossed it in his laundry basket. Tying up your hair loosely to keep it out of your face, you brushed your teeth and then returned to the bedroom, opening the closet and dropping the clothes into the laundry basket without a second glance.

Anakin was laying face down across the foot of the bed with his arms limp at his sides, lifting his head to rest his chin on the blankets when he felt your weight subtly pushing down against the soft memory foam. His eyes flickered a shade lighter than before at the sight of you, though they quickly returned to the flat, unfeeling eyes you rarely saw.

“Why’d you change?” He asked, his voice rumbling tiredly in his chest.

“Just… wanted to feel clean before bed I guess.” You answered, looking down at your lap where your hands rested palms up.

“Clean.” He scoffed, nodding his head. “Okay.”

“What?” You snapped at him, irritated by his tone or perhaps feeling a bit agitated by being questioned on such a sensitive topic.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He sighed, giving you a lopsided, half-hearted smile. “Let’s get you to sleep.”

You didn’t verbally respond, not pleased with his response or the way it was delivered. Simply pulling up the covers to your chin while Anakin situated himself atop the blankets with an arm tossed over you, groaning because he realized the lamp was still on. So he rolled to his side of the bed, reaching out with his right arm to pull the chain. He audibly hissed as though the movement hurt him, turning your head to watch as he rolled back over with a scowl on his face. Not one of anger, but one of swallowed pain.

“You okay?” You asked softly, shifting to face him as his left hand snuck under the blanket to lace his fingers with yours. There was just enough light filtering through the open bedroom door for you to see the annoyance flash over his features.

“I’m sore.” His tone flat again. “Pulled a muscle or something I think.”

“I can rub your back if you want?” You offered quietly, reaching out to gently feather your fingers over the fabric of his tshirt.

“Appreciate the thought darlin’ but I don’t think it’d help. It hurts to touch.” He said, a genuine appreciation in his voice. It was nice to hear some real emotion from him, it relaxed you, knowing he might be coming out of whatever emotional episode he’d fell into.

“I’ve been putting Arnica on it.” He added, scrunching and wiggling his nose like it itched.

“Arnica? Like the stuff for bruises?” You asked confusedly.

“No.” He said sharply, rolling his eyes. “I mean, yes but no. It helps with swelling too.”

“Oh,” You nodded, taking his word for it to avoid anymore upset. “I’m sorry, I wish I could help.”

“Well, you can’t.” He said. You didn’t take it as a jab, although the words fell hard from his lips, you knew he probably just meant it as a matter of fact statement, so you nodded in acceptance.

“Are you coming to bed soon?” You asked, trailing your fingertips over his forearm.

“Once I get everything picked up.” He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Listen… today has been a train wreck, I have been a train wreck. I really am sorry.” He whispered, true emotion finally shining through in both his words and his expression.

“It’s okay. It’s just a bad day. Everyone has bad days.” You said softly, looking at him with sympathy. “I haven’t helped the situation I know.”

“I could’ve handled it better.” He sighed.

You shrugged. “Let’s not play the blame game. No one wins that one.”

“True.” He gave you a small but meaningful smile accompanied by a squeeze of your hand.

“Will you wake me when you come back?” You asked, your eyelids getting heavy after Anakin’s release of emotion, it calmed you, knowing he wouldn’t be going to bed upset.

“Sure, why?” His eyebrows knitted together as he smoothed out a loop in your loose ponytail.

“Just cause.” You said quietly, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I want to know you’re here.”

“Cute.” His voice affectionate as he let out a little chuckle. “I love you too.” He whispered.

“I know.” You nodded, still unable to say it.

You just couldn’t. You couldn’t before, you definitely can’t now. You’d already confessed it to someone else, someone who you probably should’ve ran from, got a restraining order against and begged until they locked him away. But that’s just love isn’t it? It makes you do crazy things.

Crazy things like betraying your dutiful and loyal partner with lustful trysts that should’ve never happened. Wild things like getting railed more times than a two dollar whore in the span of 24 hours by two separate men, one of whom being completely anonymous. Your sister would be appalled if she ever discovered that you were fucked with so little respect that you’d been sliced open and loved every second of it. In actuality, you wouldn’t mind doing it again.

All the things love tricked you into doing, you continued to allow and you would do so until the idolatry buried you alive.

Insanely deranged things like killing a man. Your panicked shooting indirectly causing another’s death by your lover’s hands. Perplexing things like the remorse fading in less than a day, the grief of extracting a human’s soul like that should’ve haunted you for life. But if it weren’t for your fear of being caught, you might’ve forgotten it by now.

Even if you could let those words slip through your soldered lips, you’re not sure that the barbs on your tongue would stop you from confessing more than just your love.

Or is it even that?

What if it’s not love and simply security and a devotion to the stability Anakin provides? What if you’re taking advantage of his kindness and trust in you, using him for the best of his qualities and his unwavering faith in you? Could you be so cruel and callous, is it possible you may feel indebted to him in some way and your heart is misinterpreting that for love?

Maybe it’s your subconscious, your self-preservation trying to crack through the deliberately placed cage in your mind. The dank corner of your mind where you squirrel away unmentionables, undesirables and guilessly horrid thoughts and memories. These days it’s getting fuller and fuller, the barrage of incoming files seemed never ending. The curator inside must be struggling, grasping at the iron bars in hopes to come out with only a few paper cuts. If just one of those bars bend, a flood may come running out and you’re positive that sort of unloading might turn you toward madness.

Diary Entry: September 9th

You’re finally asleep. God I wish I knew about your sleeping pills. Then I could’ve just popped one between those soft lips and you’d have went to sleep so much faster but you haven’t told Anakin you take them. I felt like I had to wait for hours, staring at your pretty face. I loved the view of course, however I didn’t love the way your lip kept twitching like you were upset as you were falling asleep. You’re still upset.

You’re just going to have to get over it. I won’t do it again. It was a moment of weakness and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t take it back anymore than I can’t make the memory of it go away. One pill. That’s all. Forget it.

I cleaned everything up. I even scrubbed the kitchen floor just to get some tension out. I’ve ruined my scrub brush, the bristles are all bent out of shape now.

When I went to check the bathroom and see if anything needed tidied up, I noticed my drawer hadn’t been closed properly, I know I didn’t open it. So it must’ve been you. Nosy bitch.

Well. I need a new hiding spot. Or maybe it’s just time to let that shit go. It’s not like I need twelve pair of panties and the other little trinkets I’ve stolen from you. I can take things and not have to hide it anymore.

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry: September 9th continued

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I never knew what i was doing but now i just feel like I’m paddling through shit creek with my bare hands and a wooden barrel for a boat.

My world is falling apart and I have no one to pray to because my goddess is just as rudderless as I am. How did i fuck up so badly and how the hell am I supposed to fix it when I just keep making it worse? I feel like I’m losing it, actually, truly losing it. I need guidance and the one person who has always been able to give me that is more lost than I am. I’m not meant to be a leader.

How can I bring you back from the dark when you are my light?

Is it even possible to atone for the things I’ve done or should I do worse and hope it cancels it out? Obviously I won’t try that because you can’t really get much worse than what I’ve done without doing some truly heinous things. See? I am capable of listening to the voice of reasoning I so often ignore.

You ignore yours too. I know you do or else we never would’ve made it this far. I used to think it was because you’re just a fucking idiot. I’ve come to the understanding that you are willfully ignorant.

I can’t even blame you. I can’t, not when I’m the one who set us up for this. It’s my fault and I’m just waiting for the window of your soul to chop me in half like a guillotine the next time I try to crawl through. You gave me such a slim opening and I was barely able to wrench myself away in time to only lose a few metaphorical fingers. The me inside my mind has yet to staunch the flow from the loss.

I know now why you won’t say it. Because you did say it. Just not to me, not to the me I made for you. I don’t know how to feel… relieved maybe, but I can’t help imagine it’s a bit unhealthy. For you I mean. I’m perfectly fine being the way I am, though I never meant to share the worst parts of me with you. Despite knowing, witnessing, participating in such a thing; you still chose to tell Ghost you loved him before you told Anakin.

I don’t know what to do with that information.

Then, you went and confused me even farther and denied me the only organic opportunity to tell you who I am. I’ve already shown you. That was the whole point of continuing all this. I could’ve stopped when we started dating but I didn’t because I didn’t want to. I realize now, you didn’t want me to either. You’ve seen the me I curated and molded into perfection. The me that you deserve. You’ve always had the option to take him and leave the rest behind but you still haven’t and I can’t foresee a future where you will.

Do you love Ghost because he is real? Is he real? Am I?

Have I always been him and never Anakin? Sometimes I think yes. Others I wholeheartedly believe I made them both just for you. Deep down i know its not true, I know who I am. I am an undeserving man. It doesn’t matter what way you spin it,. It doesn’t matter how many me’s I create, I will never be good enough for you. You know that, don’t you?

Can you tell that it’s a half-truth? Is that why you can’t tell me you love me? You know there’s something missing, it’s an incomplete file. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve known all along that I’m a fraud. You’re the only one. Other than my mother of course and don’t you dare make some sort of Freudian joke, that’s just clichè.

You are the only person I haven’t been able to fool. Further proof you are who I believe you to be. A goddess. They have some sort of ‘all knowing’ ability, yes? I’ve compared you to the Greek’s Artemis and her sister-goddess Diana from Rome, Goddess of the hunt. And hunt you have, even on those wobbly legs of a fawn. You hunted, hungry to learn and grow until you’ve turned into the beautiful, powerful doe I knew you were destined to be. My Doe. My Goddess.

You wanted to see me and you did. So why wouldn’t you let me tell you?

Are you afraid? I am.

I’m so afraid I tried to numb myself. Though like the savior you’ve become so good at being, you saved me from myself again. How is it that you can appear at just the right moment? I would’ve taken that second pill had you not come out to stop me. I might’ve even taken all your sleeping pills. Because I am afraid, and what do cowards do when they are afraid? They take the coward’s way out, it’s called that for a reason.

Diary Entry: September 10th

I hate lying to you. I hate hiding things from you.

I hate myself for doing that. I know I didn’t have to but I felt like I did.

I hate myself.

Diary Entry: September 13th

God I’m so fucking frustrated. Why are you being like this!? I don’t deserve this. You tell me you love me, you stop me from showing you my face, and I got pissed so I left. I gave myself blue balls but I’m going to blame you for it because it’s your fault after all.

We’ve kissed, we’ve touched, you’ve straddled my hips and rubbed your warm, wet panties all over my boxers but you won’t let me fuck you. You won’t let me make love to you. You won’t even let me get a finger beneath those pretty panties that I paid for.

There’s only so much my hand is capable of.

What are you afraid of? Telling me you love me? Probably. Last time you fucked someone it slipped right out. What a shame it would be for you to say it to me again.

Date

September 15th

You scrubbed at yourself in the shower, contemplating the man troubles that have plagued you ever since that night you finally made up with Anakin. He’s been grumpy, overly asshole-ish and so unbearably stubborn for the past few days that he’s on thin ice, holding a heat gun over the weak spot. Nothing you say seems to help but it also doesn’t seem to hurt, so you’ve been in a perpetual game of hot potato. As long as you keep going around the circle you won’t get burned.

Ghost hasn’t spoken to you in over a week and you’re beginning to think he may never make an appearance again. He hasn’t left a message, a note, a gift. He hasn’t even been inside your apartment. Ghost had never ever been so neglectful. It’s to the point that you might call and report him missing if you were certain of who he was.

The cameras in your home had been so well hidden that you didn’t think you’d ever find them, turns out they’re pretty easy to spot when theyre low on battery and the damn thing flashes red while you’re trying to sleep. You had always assumed he had a camera in your room, but to have it confirmed and see that it’s directly above your bed… was one of the more uncomfortable aspects of the odd relationship between you.

It was so tiny you couldn’t believe that it actually functioned as a camera. You plucked it from the hiding spot on your ceiling fan and put it in your jewelry box along with all the other things that Ghost had left for you. It was kind of entertaining, like a weird game of eye-spy to see if you could find the others now that you knew what to expect. You hadn’t found them yet, but you knew it wouldn’t take long for the rest of them to need charging too.

Oddly enough, it made you a little sad to think that he might’ve stopped watching. You always imagined that when or if Ghost ever left your life that you’d be relieved. If you would’ve told the terrified mouse who’d woken up to a stranger with a knife all those months ago… that she’d be sitting in the shower floor mourning the loss, well, she’d send you to the fifth floor without hesitation.

You’d wracked your brain over and over again, grasping at any idea that seemed remotely plausible in hopes that you’d conjure up some elaborate plan to fix everything. No grand scheme had revealed itself yet, aside from faking your death and moving out of the country, but Luke would hold a grudge against your faux corpse. You had promised that he would be allowed to die first because he couldn’t bare the idea he might outlive you.

Luke.

Maybe it was time to tell Luke. You wouldn’t have to share all of it, you could even lie a little, make it less rapey and more romantic. Sans murder and add a dash of sweetness. It’s not like you’ve lived a single day of your life for the past few months without telling a handful of lies a day. What’s a few more?

Maybe you should threaten warn Ghost first. As a courtesy of course. He should know if you’re planning on spilling your guts to your best friend, it’s only fair. What’s Ghost going to do? Roll up to Luke’s apartment and duct tape your mouth shut? No.

You sighed, stepping out of the shower, half expecting to see Ghost sitting on the sink again, unfortunately he was not. Unfortunately.

You didn’t have time for this. You didn’t have time to mope about, you’re a girl with a job that you neglected for days on end and they were kind enough not to fire you. So long as you were okay with being on probation; you were of course. Finding another stable job in a city like this on such short notice would be nightmarish. Thank the gods you’re their best waitress.

Ever since you returned to work, Sara has forced you to wear a ‘trainee’ badge and all your regulars have bullied you endlessly for it. Those little old men may seem sweet and harmless but the moment they find something to poke fun at they turn into a pack of jackals. Today you’d be back to serving them coffee sans the trainee badge of shame. Unless of course you are late.

Hurriedly dressing in your uniform and fixing yourself up enough to be presentable, you sprinted out the door and down the steps, quick walking to your car. You’d be late if you leisurely walked to The Bluebird like you normally did. You’d made a habit of parking right next to Anakin’s vehicle, so you had to walk past it everytime you climbed in to yours. You’ve not used your car since you returned from your weekend getaway and Anakin’s car hadn’t been there when you arrived.

You hardly glanced at it anymore, being so used to seeing it there. It always looked the same. He always parked it the same, always backing it in to the spot. So you weren’t expecting anything different when you bent down to pick up the quarter next to his driver side door. It must’ve fallen out of the overflowing change cup he kept in the door pocket.

You smiled, seeing it was face up, taking it as a good luck sign. You needed some good luck, so you picked it up. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed something different about Anakin’s car. The tire.

Dirt. Real dirt. Not the city street gunk or the sand and gravel mixture in the back parking lot of The Cerulean. It was dark earth and grass, trapped in the grooves of the rubber. Where had he gone that he might’ve needed to drive over actual dirt?

——————————————————————————

“Hey doll.” Anakin’s deep voice appeared suddenly to your left, his hand on your back as he walked past you to take a seat at the counter while you finished up taking your table’s order.

You gave him a smile and trudged off to the kitchen, clipping the order slip to the line above the stovetop. As you came back out of the kitchen, you shoved your pad and pen back into your apron pocket, surveying your tables to make sure everything was as it should be before you stopped to talk with Anakin.

“What’s up Ani?” You asked, leaning on your elbows against the counter.

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows, tonguing his labret piercing distractedly while he picked at his nail polish. “Oh, uh I just wanted to come say ‘hi’ before I had to go to work.” He said, giving you a little smile, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

“What’ve you been up to today?” You asked, turning around to get him a Pepsi, watching the liquid pour out and bubble up in the cup.

“What’ve you been doing?” He countered, taking the glass from you hesitantly, looking you over like he was searching for something.

“Just been at home and here.” You frowned, unwrapping a straw and popping it in his drink for him.

“Got plans or anything after work?” He asked, taking a sip through the straw.

“No? Sh-should I? Did I forget something?” You asked worriedly.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head, eyes flicking down to his drink and back up to you. “No I just want you to stay at my place tonight.” He said quietly.

“But you work tonight.” You said, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m aware.” He said with a snort, looking at you with a flat affect.

“I- I mean I’ll definitely stay.” You nodded. “I just guess I’m surprised.”

“Why?” He asked, curling up his top lip.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stayed at your place when you’ve been at work before.” You said, tilting your head to the side.

“You haven’t.” He confirmed, unfolding a napkin in front of him and laying it flat, ripping off tiny pieces.

“Well, first time for everything then huh?” You smiled, hoping to break him from the reeking attitude he was carrying around with him.

“Come out to my car with me.” Anakin wasn’t asking, not even instructing. He was demanding.

“Oh-okay just a second.” You nodded, walking toward the kitchen doorway. “Vigo! Anakin is here, I’m gonna take a break.”

“Yeah sure.” Vigo waved you off, tossing a towel over his shoulder before he flipped on the tap and began washing his hands.

You turned on your heel and expected to see Anakin sitting at the counter where you left him. Though as you untied your apron and tossed it under the counter, you scanned the diner and saw him nowhere. Instead, he was already heading out to his car, the ‘Open’ sign on the glass door of the restaurant swinging back and forth just proved he pulled it open with more force than necessary.

Peering through the glass as you approached the door, hand out to push it open, you spotted him leaned against his car with his arms crossed. His head down, staring at the blacktop beneath him until he jerked to the side, sensing your presence growing nearer.

“Get in.” Anakin opened the drivers side back door for you and gently ushered you inside. A big contrast to the gruff tone he spoke with.

“Yes sir.” You rolled your eyes, speaking sarcastically. It didn’t seem like Anakin thought it was just a good natured jab. Rather, he reacted like it was a personal attack.

He firmly grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked it as he climbed into the back seat behind you. He let go just as quickly as he gripped it, wordlessly splaying his fingers across your scalp to apologetically massage your scalp.

“What the hell was that for?” You scowled, batting his hand away from your head.

“We haven’t fucked since you came back,” he said, ignoring your question. “I want you to fuck me.”

Your jaw dropped through the floorboard of the car and shattered on the pavement beneath. Watching him unbutton and unzip his jeans, more comfortably spreading his legs and leaning back, his hands laced behind his head with a grunt. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, waiting expectantly for you to make your move, but you were simply speechless, frozen in place.

“Hello?” He snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “If you’re gonna sit there with your mouth open at least put it to work.” He scoffed, grabbing the back of your neck with one hand, pulling out his already hard cock with the other.

There was a split second of hesitation on his part, pausing like he realized what he was doing, suddenly coming back to consciousness after being possessed.

“Princess… I’m so sorry, y-you don’t have to do anything.” He turned his head to you revealing his paling cheeks as he quickly released the back of your neck from his rough hold, only to be shocked by the lustful gaze staring back into his worried eyes.

“Th-that was hot.” You squeaked out, melting into submission.

“Wait- really?” He asked, eyebrows pinching together in shameful hope. His hand hovering over the nape of your neck as if waiting for permission.

“Y-yeah, yes.” Swallowing thickly, cautiously sliding off the backseat and onto the carpeted floor to kneel in front of him.

“Sweetheart, no.” He shook his head, a mask of remorse passing over his features. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

“Anakin.” You said quietly, “please shut up.”

“O-okay.” He nodded quickly, suddenly timid, so unlike that man from just seconds earlier.

You lowered your head without another glance up at him, moving to swirl your tongue and suck on the silver ball of his jewelry to slight push and pull the metal through the piercing before taking his cockhead between your lips.

You were too busy to notice the absolutely wicked, deriding, straight up unsettlingly evil grin eat away at the faux timidity he’d painted on his pretty face.

Diary Entry: September 17th

Is there a word for when you kind of feel bad about something because you know that you should, but you don’t actually feel bad about it? If there is one I’d like to know it. It’d be perfect for this. It’s exactly how I feel.

I don’t think I’m obligated to actually feel any sort of ‘remorse’ in this situation though because it’s not really my fault. Even if it is… it’s only indirectly. After all the excitement life has finally slowed down enough for me to notice I’m out of my meds. Have been like for a few days.

So, apologies for being a total jerk, but also no I’m not apologizing because I don’t believe you mind it. I think you just don’t like it. You don’t like facing what you already know to be true. Kind of like when you rearrange the magnets on the fridge. You get so used to seeing it one way that you hardly pay attention. But the moment you move ‘em around its like you’re looking at a brand new fridge every time you walk past it. It just jumps out at you.

Same fridge, same magnets. Same me, more Ghost, less Anakin.

Diary Entry: September 20th

Why does life have to kick me in the ass, why won’t it just pucker up and kiss it? I have a nice ass. You’ve said so.

I can list a hundred things that I would rather be doing this week, a thousand if I tried really hard. I would prefer to shove my hand in a manual meat grinder than go back to that stupid fucking doctor.

My mother makes her weekly FaceTime call and turns it into a game of twenty questions.

I know exactly what she was trying to do, fishing for information, trying to see how much I knew. She did the same thing when that murder on campus happened. It wasn’t me. The guy who did it was caught and locked up, it was a senseless crime. The poor kid didn’t do anything but stand in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Just because I live near the campus, doesn’t mean I’m involved. Except for this time.

I don’t do senseless crime. I’m not stupid.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a call from your doctor honey. Did you take me off the information release? You know you can’t do that Anakin, it’s mandatory.’

‘Your prescription hasn’t been filled, you haven’t taken it in over a week! Don’t lie to me!’

Fucking fine. Alright. I love the woman but Christ alive she gets on my goddamn nerves. Now I have to go back to the shrink because I didn’t call and request my meds to be refilled and I didn’t try to pick them up when they were ready. Apparently if you’re three days late to the CVS pharmacy they put your crazy pills back and hold them hostage. Some policy shit about controlled substances.

My mom watched the news and thought to herself ‘hmm, it’s been alittle while since I’ve questioned my son’s sanity.’

Have I not done enough to prove I’m capable of being a functioning member of society? The state says I have. Why can’t she do the same? Officials have signed off on my ability to be normal and surprise! I have ‘maintained mental stability’ and ‘reintegrated into society’.

They’re over it. Why can’t she be?

I mean for fucks sake, she was used to it. Those doctors and nurses who loved to sedate me while I was in that state school weren’t and they forgave me a million times quicker than mom did. I would’ve gotten grounded for months if she had been the one to find out I was stealing meds and reselling them. It’s not my fault they padlocked it with a big clunky thing from the 90’s. A toddler could’ve picked that lock with a spoon, but they trusted a school of delinquents not to capitalize on it? All they did was give me a time out in the bad boy box for a week. It was like a vacation, no classes, no people, no gym.

They expected me to be upset about that? Please.

The only thing I didn’t think I was going to get away with there was the whole therapy-chicken fiasco. My refusal to apologize definitely didn’t help. But when you live in the suburbs majority of your life you aren’t exactly accustomed to a fucking rooster thinking the sun is coming up at 4:00 am. I already had to deal with sharing a room with a chronic masturbator who snored and grease-trap McGee who thought axe body spray could substitute for a shower.

Adding chickens into a coop directly outside my window was the tipping point. A state official who believed caring for animals could be therapeutic almost cost me my graduation. Out of all the animals they could’ve chosen, they picked chickens.

They only lasted a week before I got fed up and wrung their necks like a washcloth.

But I’m an adult now. I’m a big boy, making big boy choices and one of those choices was to stop seeing my doctor. I would’ve kept up with my pills, however, I was busy following my girlfriend to the lake when I got the ‘prescription ready for pickup’ text.

I probably don’t even need them anymore anyway. I’m fine. But now if I don’t get my ass in there for an appointment with Dr. Bullshit I’ll have to get reevaluated through the court and have to see that little bitch ass man-boy I hit with a table. I can’t have that. Not when everything is perfect in my life.

Except for the stuff that’s really horribly terrible.

Appointment: date: September 28th 3:30pm

September 15th 8:23pm

Seconds after unlocking your front door, you flopped down face first onto the couch. Dropping your belongings onto the floor below you with a thud, you had no intention of moving until absolutely necessary. You just wanted to rot. Not because you wanted to die per say… its just that you wouldn’t mind feigning dead for a while and if you just so happened to perish while playing the part of a corpse; well it wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be way easier than living the life that you’ve found yourself in.

Everything had been so undeniably awful lately that the joy had been sucked out of even the smallest things that made you happy before. Like the nice old lady who gets coffee and a slice of cake for lunch, she’s so cute and small and she always leaves a peppermint as part of your tip. It always made you smile, always gave you a warm feeling in your chest, but today was different. Today the gesture made you feel hollow.

Since he left, it’s all you can think of.

——————————————————————————

9:52pm

After peeling yourself away from the comfort of your couch, you showered and ate a dinner fit for royalty: microwave stir fry rice. Then you dragged yourself across the hallway to Anakin’s. For reasons yet to be revealed you were dreading your time inside his place alone. The air felt heavy and stale as you walked through the space, into his living room. It was always like this when he was gone, like the apartment never fully ‘wakes up’ until he steps inside.

It’s odd, feeling like the room you’re in is in a state of dormancy. Yet, it’s not the cause of your hesitancy to stay here tonight, while he’s away. No, you’re hesitant because Ghost he usually visits on nights Anakin is at work. What if he shows up and you’re not there? Will he make an appearance here? Will he think it’s your way of saying you don’t care if you see him or not?

Worse still, could the hesitancy stem from that little voice trapped deep in the recesses of your mind? The one you’ve ignored every time it’s been able to rip the gag from it’s mouth?

The rope of dread wraps tighter and tighter around your neck each moment you’re here alone. No amount of distraction has been able to cure the itch, the burning, nagging itch to get up and search. Is that what he wants? What if he’s been here?

Are there cameras here too? That’s something you’ve never even considered before and the thought makes you feel ill. It’s one thing to have your own privacy breached, but Anakin’s… that’s unfair to him and it’s already gone past ‘innocent’ watching. The camera in your bedroom has surely caught things no one else should’ve seen and that knowledge has begun to haunt you.

He’d been watching you have sex. With him. With Anakin. He had hours of footage, a thousand thoughts crossed your mind at the realization. But only a few were significant enough to take note of. If he’s been monitoring your bedroom activity… why was he only upset about the time you and Anakin had sex in the living room? He was so angry about it, so angry he wanted to roleplay stabbing you. He cut you while he pounded you from behind.

Why hadn’t he been that jealous about every other time? Probably to spare you the embarrassment of knowing the camera was right over your bed. It would be stupid of him to reveal that sort of information, then he wouldn’t have all those videos, perfect for blackmail, presumably great amateur porn. He wouldn’t… would he? He killed a man.

Men?

So it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he might’ve been saving all that up in case he needed it. He did say he’d send those pictures to Anakin if you didn’t behave. That’s blackmail. That’s a threat.

Or maybe, he���d done something even worse. Ghost… could he have…? No. He’s too possessive. He wouldn’t try to make money off of you like that. Would he? Despite laughing off the thought, your phone suddenly appeared in your hand, thumbs working of their own accord to check any and every explicit website you could find using the tags ‘ghostface’ ‘masks’ ‘hidden camera’ ‘blindfold’ ‘gagged’ ‘knife’ and anything else you thought it might’ve been labeled under. Scroll after scroll you squinted your way through countless video thumbnails, all the big sites were clean as far as you could tell.

OnlyFans? Maybe. He’d make way more on a site like that than he would on a larger porn site. Right? Wouldn’t it be considered… niche content? So you searched there, preview and profile pictures of so many people popped up. Maybe it’s not as niche as you thought. The idea that others may be interested in something like that was slightly comforting and only a tad infuriating.

These people might not be your Ghost; but they shared his face. And, they had hundreds if not thousands of people watching them.

It shouldn’t bother you as badly as it does, but you can’t help it. Maybe his own possessiveness has started to rub off on you, because the thought of someone else watching a man in the same mask as Ghost… almost felt like cheating.

Realistically, he could be any of these men.

You could be looking at him right now along with whoever else is online and you’d never even know it unless you saw yourself pop up on the page. But then you’d have to subscribe to **every single one** of these profiles. You might waste your time scrolling through videos and never finding what you were looking for.

Because… realistically he probably isn’t one of these men.

“Enough.” You groaned, fisting your hair on both sides of your head, then pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes.

Finally you got up and made popcorn, sitting yourself in front of the living room tv for a bit of a wind-down before bed. It would be hours before Anakin got home, X-Files was calling and you just had to answer. So you restarted it and settled in for a binge. The familiar theme washing over you in a nostalgic sort of way, late nights passing by on the projector of your memories.

Luke and you in his twin bed, comforter bundled around you as you sat huddled together, crosslegged in the soft glow of the tv and his small spaceship nightlight. Too old for ‘kid shows’ and too young for horror movies, so you found the next best thing: Goosebumps for grown ups.

His parents were fancy enough to have a DVR to record shows, allowing the two of you to rewatch your favorite episodes whenever you pleased. So long as his father didn’t record over them to catch the newest episode of American Idol.

Isn’t it odd how we so often return to the comfort of childhood in times of uncertainty? Clinging onto the old things that were stable even in the forever changing world you grew up in. Every night without fail, re-run after re-run of X-Files would play on channel 72. All night long.

Now you didn’t have to wait until 8:30pm. You could watch it whenever you wanted, or needed. The latter was true in this case. You want to believe. Just like Mulder. But, Scully is reasonable and you needed to be reasonable. An inkling isn’t proof, a feeling isn’t fact. Cold, hard evidence doesn’t lie. But your mind, your heart, your eyes and ears… are not as trustworthy as you might like to think.

You only got through two episodes before you stood up and sat your bowl of neglected popcorn aside.

“Skeptics are often the best detectives.” You mumbled to yourself, a very paraphrased quote from the show.

You’d come here to snoop once already and had found nothing. No evidence. But now you wondered if you may have been searching for the wrong things, in the wrong places.

“What would Scully do?” You thought.

You found yourself slipping into the role you once loved to play alongside Luke. You’d be the voice of reason to his fantasy world of the paranormal, when he’d come up with ‘cases’ for the two of you to solve. Only this time you would be playing both parts.

You’d started off toward Anakin’s bedroom when your phone buzzed, pausing just before passing the threshold into the space, you pulled your phone from your pocket and saw a text waiting to be read.

‘Do you miss me that bad?’

Ghost.

Unsure of whether to answer or not you freeze in place, staring down at the screen. He’d ignored you for what felt like eternity, now he was returning with a snarky comment about your internet searches. He can monitor your search history but he can’t say ‘hello’ for a week?

Your thumbs poised over the keyboard, a million jumbled words fighting for their chance to make an appearance in your quick witted, equally snarky, sarcastic-

‘Yes.’

‘Liar.’ The response came through the very second your phone showed that your message had delivered.

Your face heated up, how dare he call you a liar? After everything you would’ve thought he might know better. You chose not to entertain the comment, knowing it would only make Ghost think he’d successfully gotten under your skin. Even though he had, he wasn’t entitled to that information.

‘Your cameras are dying.’

‘I don’t need them anymore.’ The text finally appeared after several bouts of typing, erasing and retyping occurred on Ghost’s side of the conversation.

He doesn’t need them. At least he didn’t say he didn’t want them anymore, because that would imply that he didn’t want you anymore. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you hoped it meant he had something else planned, not simply that he had lost interest in watching your day to day activities.

It was a sobering concept; the idea that you may be losing his attention. Is it worth it to even try to find out? Will the answer just hurt you more than the not knowing? You suspect it might.

So you turned off your phone. No more googling, no more texting. Just searching. With X-Files to keep you company, you walked around the living room to carefully lift every item in the room. Each little trinket inspected and every backing to his picture frames removed, the couch cushions lifted, unzipped and felt up. Scooting every piece of moveable furniture away from the walls and pushing it carefully back into place. Anakin was peculiar about his things, if you misplaced something by even a centimeter, he would notice.

If you weren’t so angry at Ghost, you might’ve thanked him for the ‘take a reference picture’ before moving someone else’s things trick. It was no wonder you didn’t notice him being inside your house for so long. He really was good at what he did.

But you were angry. Angry at him, at yourself, at Anakin. But you were furious at the invisible wall that kept you from searching Anakin’s room. Every time you approached it, your mind thought up some excuse for why you weren’t finished looking elsewhere. There’s only so many logical hiding places and you were suddenly determined to find them all before moving open to the more… illogical ones.

Cereal boxes. Ice cube tray. Dishwasher and the dishwasher pac container. The fabric along the bottom of the couch. Behind the mounted tv. In the trash cans beneath the trash bag. The water tank of the coffee pot. His shoes.

You even re-checked the bathroom after remembering you never found out what was keeping that drawer from being fully opened. Turns out Anakin beat you to it and got it out of the way, so when you opened it, you removed the drawer completely to find that there was nothing there and never had been. If there’s nothing there, there must be nothing in his room either.

And suddenly, that invisible barrier dissolved.

“Oh you’ve gotta be fuckin’ joking.” Anakin laughed humorlessly, seeing his text deliver green. He tossed his phone onto the crate beside him, annoyedly pulling the cigarette from between his lips with pinched fingers and flicking the ash on the ground.

”What?” Trevor asked, pressing his back to the brick wall, enjoying a slow sip of whiskey.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” Anakin grumbled, raking a hand through his hair.

“Oh come on now don’t give me that shit.” Trevor scoffed, scuffing his shoe against Anakin’s. “I’d like to think I know you well enough to know when you’re royally ticked off.”

”Trev. You don’t ever wanna see me royally ticked off.” He chuckled, deep and gravely from the back of his throat. “I’m just… irritated.”

”You’ve been barreling around the bar for the last week like a bull in a china shop.” Trevor said pointedly, taking a gulp of his whiskey. “I didn’t think anyone would ever beat April’s broken glass record but you’ve fuckin’ smashed it.” Trevor snickered at his own joke, clearing his throat anxiously when Anakin didn’t laugh along with him.

”Seriously man, I’ll help you out if I can. Just say the word.” Trevor shrugged, feeling an awkward silence that he hadn’t shared with Anakin in quite some time.

”This isn’t something you can help with.” Anakin sighed, shoving his phone back in his pocket and rubbing his palms over his jeans, smacking his knees before standing up and tossing his cigarette butt into the designated coffee can.

”Girl trouble?” Trevor guessed putting both his hand palm up in front of him.

”When isn’t it girl trouble?” Anakin groaned, rubbing his face. “My girl, my mom, the fucking cat. Even the damn cat is being weird with me.”

“Well, what’d you do?” Trevor asked curiously, not trying to pry to hard.

”Oh you know.” Anakin shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “Went on a murderous rampage, girlfriend caught me snorting some special K, didn’t give the cat a treat, told my mom off over the phone.”

”Shit, anything else?” Trevor laughed, standing up as well to follow Anakin inside.

”Beat up a middle aged man, mugged a gas station attendant, robbed said gas station, stole a motorcycle, spray painted a few buildings, busted up a change jar, fucked your mom.” Anakin listed off on his hand, turning around with a grin on his face after the last ‘transgression’ left his lips.

”I should’ve seen that one coming.” Trevor huffed shaking his head. “Tell your mother I said ‘nice tits’.”

”Oh fuck right the hell off.” Anakin snorted, shoulder checking Trevor into the wall as they re-entered the bar.

”Yessir,” Trevor tipped his imaginary hat and spun on his heel. “Next time i see you, I’ll be calling you son.”

”Just don’t ask me to call you daddy.” Anakin shook his head, faking a right and smacking his left cheek lightly before running off behind the bar.

——————————————————————————

September 16th 3:13am

Anakin left the bar after his shift that night, feeling a little bit lighter. His mind a little less foggy and a little more organized. He jogged up the steps to his apartment and almost walked in, his hand on the door knob in preparation to unlock it.

It was as if the other side of the hall was calling to him in a way he hadn’t experienced in a while. That same strong urge that had lured him into your life in the first place, he knew you were waiting for him, but it couldn’t hurt to make you wait just a tad longer, right?

Slowly he turned and switched keys, unlocking your door and stepping inside he flipped on the light switch and went about collecting the rest of the cameras he had so painstakingly set up all that time ago. Lining them up on the dresser in front of your bed just before taking all the little things he’d left, all the notes, and lining them up in chronological order from one edge of the dresser to the next, ending the sequence by taking off his centipede ring and placing the bullet he’d carved for you in the center of it.

He carefully plucked your hairpin from the jewelry box and held it for a moment in the palm of his hand, tracing over the delicately carved lines. He’d looked for so long, searched everywhere just to find it and you’d never worn it. He understood of course, he could understand the reasoning behind not wearing it. But keeping it tucked away in your jewelry box seemed like a waste of it’s beauty, a waste of what it represented for him. So, just like he stole it from that antique shop, he stole it back from you.

Anakin stood back as he slipped the hair pin into his pocket, looking down at his handiwork. It was satisfying to see it all laid out like that in front of him. Like a nice little history exhibit of your time together. It brought a small smile to his lips, a happy one, one that was real and genuine, proud.

He hadn’t planned this, he used to plan everything so carefully, so far in advance. He’d been running on instinct and the free feeling he got when he decided something on the spot for a while now. It felt nice to break from the mold he’d created for himself when it came to you, not so much when it involved murder. Anakin wasn’t a man who would admit to be scared about just any old thing. Scared of losing you? Absolutely he would admit to that. But scared of prison? No, he’s too tough for that.

Which is why he was blaming his tears on you and you alone. Despite his happy smile, he sniffed back salty droplets that graced his cheeks, unaware he was even crying until he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the dresser.

He was well aware that he’d been sloppy. There were so many things that didn’t make sense at that crime scene and he was hoping that the police were stupid enough to believe it was all due to that poor kid’s hysteria. Anakin was smart enough to know that the police wouldn’t share any information that was valuable, if they had suspicions anyone else was involved. They’d wait and bide their time, gathering evidence and luring the suspect into a false sense of security.

He was paranoid, so, so, paranoid. Rightfully so.

None of the boys he’d left alive turned up that way, which in all reality made it a little easier for him. There’d be no witnesses and no one to point the finger at a real life Ghostface. Two of the boys had bled out, the other died from a stress induced seizure and choked on his own tongue. Anakin supposed that might be a reasonable reaction to being zip tied to two dead guys that had fallen over on top of you. He knew he should feel bad, he did, just not for what he knew he was supposed to.

He felt bad for himself.

——————————————————————————

September 16th 3:46am

You were on your hands and knees, using your phone flashlight to search under all the furniture in Anakin’s room. You even lifted the mattress, took out all the drawers in the dressers and nightstand, even checked the pockets of the clothes hanging in his closet. The suitcase at the top of his closet and the shoes at the bottom.

You gave up searching after you picked up a candle and turned it over, why in the world would you be checking a candle for anything suspicious? You were beginning to believe you were just horribly paranoid, rightfully so, you’d just aided and abetted and murdered not too long ago.

So you cozied up in Anakin’s bed and started watching the X-Files that you’d switched over into his room’s tv for background noise. Now Scully and Mulder had your full attention.

It was a good episode, a string of strange unsolved murders. Mulder had a theory that would connect these murders to ones that had happened several decades before. He was convinced they were committed by the same man despite the time passed between them. He even found matching finger prints to prove his theory, yet Scully was still unconvinced. That was until the culprit came after her, breaching her home’s defenses by squeezing through the air vents.

You jolted upright so quickly it made your brain feel as though it spun on an axis. With your phone in hand you went about the apartment, checking each air vent. It would be a perfect hiding place for anything really. You would’ve never even considered it had it not been for the X-Files. Your palms sweat with anxious anticipation, each one you checked meant you were one closer to finding, or not finding whatever it was the Anakin may or may not be hiding.

You saved the one in Anakin’s room for last, assuming if he were to have hidden anything it would probably be there. You were just about to shine your light through the slats of the vent when you heard the front door open, in a moment of panic you shot upright to your feet, your phone gripped tightly in your fingers. Your face the picture of guilt as Anakin rounded the corner, his face twisting from surprise to confusion.

”What’re you still doing up doll?” He asked, looking at his watch, “It’s almost four.”

”I couldn’t sleep.” You said quickly, realizing the phone flashlight was still on, you tapped the button the turn it off but your fingers were so sweaty you had to wipe them on your shirt before you could properly use the touchscreen.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asked, walking forward as he watched you struggle, “Looking for something?”

”No! Why- what makes you think that?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted in concern.

”Uh,” He pointed to the phone in your hand and watched as you tried and failed to feign a gasp of realization.

”Oh! Right, I could’ve sworn I heard a mouse in here, I was just about to look.” You said, gesturing to the air vent. Anakin took the phone from your hand and flicked the flashlight back on. Kneeling on the ground to look for you.

”Are you that afraid of mice?” He asked with a slight laugh, looking over his shoulder at your pink cheeks.

”No, not really.” You shook your head, “I- you just startled me when you came in I think.”

”Well I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to. I thought you’d be asleep.” He said, coming up off the ground and handling you your phone back. “If there was a mouse, he’s gone now.”

“Oh well that’s good then.” You sighed, nodding as you looked down at the vent again. He would’ve acted strangely if he had something down there… wouldn’t he have?

“Whatcha watching?” He asked, nodding toward the tv where a new episode had begun.

“Oh, it’s the X-Files.” You said with a slight smile, crawling back up into the bed. “You’ve never watched it?”

“Yeah I have, It’s been a long time though.” He said, leaning on the door frame and looking you over, taking his time as though he were looking for something. He was giving you a smile that seemed almost wistful, like he was sad about something.

“C’Mere babydoll. I don’t wanna get bar germs in the bed.” He pushed off the door frame with his foot, sauntering over to you, placing his hands on the side of the bed. Waiting patiently for you to come closer, his eyes seemingly soaking up every square inch of skin on your body. He smiled softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands to hold your face lightly and gaze down at you before moving in for a slow and loving kiss.

When he pulled away, he scratched the top of your head with his large hands, raking his fingertips through your hair. Guiding your closer again by the back of your head so that he could place a kiss to your forehead and pat your cheek.

”I’m gonna get clean.” He said, walking to his closet and stripping himself bare, tossing his clothes in his laundry basket. He turned to wink at you, biting the tip of his tongue with a big grin.

It made you blush, seeing him standing there so confidently and so comfortable in front of you. But the thing that made you bite your lip was the way his cock twitched, growing harder right before your eyes just because he was naked in front of you. He could see the lust, the admiration for him and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t an ego boost. He’d also be lying if he denied how much it flattened his heart when you looked away, not shyly. Purposefully. Anakin hid his small frown well, looking down to the side and ruffling up his hair with a tight lipped expression as he turned two the dresser to get a clean pair of boxers.

”Oh my god!” You gasped loudly, the sheets and blankets rustling as you made your way over to Anakin from where you sat on the bed. He nearly jumped out of his skin at your exclamation, turning around with wide eyes.

”What?” He asked looking around and down at himself in search of whatever had made you react so strongly.

”What the hell is this?” You asked, roughly grabbing him by his upper arm to spin him around and inspect his shoulder and back. He’d told you he had hurt himself, but he never let on like it was this bad. This was absolutely no pulled muscle.

“God this looks awful Ani!” You ran your fingers over the tender and multi-colored bruise on his right shoulder. “What happened?”

”Fuck.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the pointer finger and thumb of one hand. “It wasn’t a pulled muscle.”

”No shit? Really? I had no idea.” You said sarcastically, gesturing to the obviously painful bruise.

”Don’t.” He turned around, finger pointed at your face while his eyes stared down at you with darkened eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. He took a breath, closing his eyes again and when he opened them, a little bit of the light you’d grown accustomed to seeing shown through once more.

”I got in a fight.” He said simply, swallowing hard as his adam’s apple bobbed. “Just a scuffle at the bar, trying to break up an arguement. Just didn’t want to worry you princess.”

”I don’t appreciate being lied to over something so minuscule.” You scowled.

”You don’t? Oh, I had no idea.” He sneered, his voice sharp and clipped. “Sorry for trying to be mindful of you and your feelings. I didn’t think it would help our situation any, you know because you locked yourself away for a few days?”

You stepped back, the scowl fading slightly into something more sensitive. It was obvious you’d upset him, abundantly clear actually. The way he responded not only made you feel guilty for not considering the reasoning behind his lie, but also dredged up the guilt from the irony of your own words.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. “I should’ve reacted better, I was just- it worried me.” You admitted, walking over to pull him in for a comforting hug.

”It… It’s alright.” He sighed softly, nuzzling the top of your head to inhale your scent. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

”I understand.” You nodded, even though you didn’t really. He’d been acting so unpredictably as of late that it was starting to worry you in more ways than one.

“Do you?” He asked, the tone of his voice making it sound less like a question and more like a tease, though his eyes suggested it was serious.

”I think maybe you’re just really stressed or… or maybe something’s bothering you?” You ventured carefully not wanting to upset him again. “You’ve been acting different.”

”You haven’t spoken to my mom. Have you?” He asked, his eyebrow shooting up as he spoken.

”What?” You asked with a bit of a confused laugh. “No, I haven’t.”

He studied your face, searching for deception hidden beneath you confident denial and he was pleased to find none. He monitored your phone, he could hear you conversations, but you were aware of that and he was worried you might’ve found a way to bypass all his precautions.

”Okay.” He nodded. “Sweetheart, I’ve got- I need to… you know what? I think we should probably have this conversation after I put some pants on.” He said stepping back and giving you a smirk at the blush on your cheeks.

”R-right, I forgot.” You said, biting your bottom lip and allowing him to leave the room to shower. The second he closed the bathroom door you moved so quickly to the vent along the baseboard of the wall that you thought you might’ve given yourself rug burn on your knees when you dropped down to check it for yourself.

Empty.

Part Eighteen

Tag-List:

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THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 6

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 6: | I NEED YOU |

You lay on your bed, the soft light of late afternoon filtering through your curtains. The events of the party the night before were still fresh in your mind, and you felt restless, needing to talk to someone. So, you reached for your phone and called Sarah. It took a few rings before she answered, her voice a little breathless, as if she’d been rushing around.

“Hey, did you leave the party earlier yesterday?” you asked, your voice tentative. You’d been wondering why she seemed to disappear without a word, and your curiosity was gnawing at you.

“Yeah, I did,” Sarah replied, her tone calm, but you could sense an underlying tension there. “I went to see John B.”

You paused, the name hanging in the air between you. “Did you break up with Topper?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could think twice about it. You knew things had been complicated for her lately, and part of you hoped she’d finally made a decision.

“No, but he was so annoying at the party,” Sarah said, a note of exasperation in her voice. You could almost see her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line, the frustration clear. “He kept hovering, acting like I was going to run off with someone any second.”

“So he’s suspicious,” you stated, already piecing together the situation in your mind.

“Yeah, and then he followed me and saw me with John B.” There was a pause, and then she added, her voice laced with anger and disbelief, “He called me a whore.”

“What?!” The word shot out of you, disbelief and fury mixing in your tone. Topper had always been possessive, but this was a new low. You sat up, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and concern for your best friend.

“Yeah, first I’m a prude and now I’m a whore,” Sarah said bitterly. You could hear the pain she was trying to hide behind the anger, the way her voice wavered just a little. “And then he pushed John B off the railing. He could’ve died.”

“Seriously?” The shock was clear in your voice. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Topper had always been a bit intense, but this? This was dangerous.

“But John B is living at my house now,” Sarah continued, her voice softening slightly. “My dad is his guardian now.”

“That’s nice,” you said, your voice gentle, though your mind was still racing. You knew how complicated things were for Sarah, how torn she was between what was expected of her and what she really wanted. “I’m sure Rafe doesn’t like it.”

There was a sudden silence on the other end, and you felt a prickle of anxiety run down your spine. You hadn’t meant to bring Rafe up, not after everything that had happened, but the words had slipped out before you could stop them.

“Who cares what he feels like,” Sarah said sharply, her voice tight with irritation. You winced, regretting mentioning him. There was so much tension between the siblings, and you knew better than to add fuel to that fire.

“Uh—I was just saying...” you mumbled, stumbling over your words, feeling foolish. Why had you brought him up? Why had you even thought it was okay to mention him? It was a stupid mistake, one you couldn’t take back.

“I have to go now,” Sarah said abruptly, her tone clipped, cutting through the awkward silence. “I’ll talk to you later.” And before you could respond, she hung up.

You stared at your phone, the screen dark and empty, the weight of the conversation settling over you. You weren’t sure if she’d cut the call short because of your mention of Rafe or if she really did have somewhere to be. Either way, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, an uncomfortable knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

You sighed, dropping your phone onto the bed beside you. It had been a stupid mistake, bringing him up like that. You knew how sensitive things were between Sarah and Rafe, how volatile their relationship could be. And here you were, complicating things further.

But you couldn’t help it. He was always there, lingering at the edge of your thoughts, and it scared you how much he was starting to matter. How much he was starting to mean. You closed your eyes, trying to push it all away, but it was useless. The worry, the guilt, the confusion—they all churned inside you, making it impossible to find any peace.

•°•°•°•°•°•

It was nighttime, and you were winding down after a long day, going through your skincare routine in the bathroom. The warmth of the shower still lingered on your skin, and the rhythmic motions of applying your creams and serums were almost meditative. As you gently massaged your face, you tried to let go of the thoughts swirling in your mind, but they seemed determined to stay.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the silence. You glanced down and saw Rafe’s name light up on the screen. Instantly, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly picked up your phone and opened the message.

Rafe: Can you come over to Gilson's house? I really need you right now.

You frowned in confusion. What was he doing at the Gilsons' place? You knew they weren’t even in the Outer Banks. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach as you typed your response.

You: Why are you at Gilsons?

His reply came almost instantly like he was waiting on edge for you to respond.

Rafe: I’ll tell you when you come over.

You sighed deeply, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You were practically ready for bed, your hair still damp and your face freshly cleansed. You felt torn, caught between the comfort of your warm bed and the urgency in Rafe’s message. Should you go? Was it really that serious?

Before you could overthink it, you typed back:

You: I’ll be there in a few minutes.

With a mix of nerves and determination, you hurriedly put on some clothes, the adrenaline making your hands shake as you slipped into your dress. You sneaked out of the house quietly, not wanting to explain to anyone where you were going or why. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you made your way to the Gilsons' house, your mind racing with possibilities.

As you approached, you noticed the front doors were unlocked. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’d find a party inside, but there was only silence. A strange, unsettling quiet. You stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. The house felt almost eerie, empty, and vast, like a space that should be full of life but wasn’t.

“Rafe?” you whispered, the sound barely more than a breath, hoping he was the only one here.

Suddenly, his voice came from behind you, making you jump. “Y/N.” You turned around to find him standing close, too close, his expression hard to read in the dim light.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, the concern in your voice evident.

“My dad kicked me out,” Rafe confessed, his voice raw and edged with something dark and heavy.

Worry tightened your chest immediately. “What? Why?”

“I owed Barry a lot of money for coke, and my dad caught me trying to steal a watch,” he explained, his words falling heavily between you. “I had nowhere else to go, so I came here.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him, so lost and vulnerable. You knew he was in deep with Barry, but you hadn’t realized just how bad things had gotten. The weight of his words settled over you, pressing down on your chest.

You took a step closer, your voice softening. “Why did you want me to come over?”

Rafe’s gaze locked onto yours, the intensity in his eyes making your breath catch. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the quiet, dark room. “Because I need you. I have nothing and no one except for you.”

Your heart swelled, a rush of emotions flooding through you. You wanted to be there for him, to help him, to somehow make everything better. His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was warm, but there was something off, something that made you look more closely at him.

“Rafe, are you high?” you asked, leaning into his touch despite the worry creeping into your voice.

“A little bit,” he admitted, his eyes, wide and glassy, staring back at you.

“You know I don’t like when you do drugs,” you reminded him, your voice gentle but firm.

“I know. I know,” Rafe said, his hand slipping away from your face, and you felt the loss of contact acutely. “I’m sorry.”

You quickly reached out and grabbed his hand again, squeezing it softly. “But I get it. You’re going through a lot.”

Rafe smiled at you, a small, almost boyish smile that made your heart ache. “Wanna make me forget about things?” he asked, his voice dipping low, filled with a mix of need and desperation.

You felt your stomach flip. You suspected what he was hinting at, but you needed to be sure. “How?”

He moved even closer, his hand finding your waist and pulling you gently against him. “You know how... We’re all alone now, and I can’t wait any longer.”

“Rafe...” you breathed, his proximity making your thoughts blur. You knew he was high, and part of you hesitated, unsure if anything should happen right now, in this state.

He could sense your hesitation, but he didn’t back down. “You know you can’t just come into my bed... Let me finger you at the party... Let me feel how wet you get for me.. and then pretend like it didn’t happen.”

“I’m not pretending—” you began, but Rafe cut you off.

“But you’re avoiding it going any further...”

“It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s just—” You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. This was a moment you had always been cautious about, and here it was, raw and real and terrifying.

Rafe tilted his head, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. “It’s just what?”

“I’ve never done it, Rafe.” The words spilled out, your voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting it would shatter something fragile between you.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure how he would react, how he would feel about you still being a virgin.

Then, to your surprise, Rafe chuckled softly. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve heard you and Sarah talking about it countless times.”

Your eyes widened, the revelation hitting you like a slap. He had been listening, absorbing those intimate conversations between you and your best friend. It felt like a strange invasion of privacy, but also strangely comforting, knowing that he had paid attention, that he cared enough to listen.

“So... uh... you have nothing against it?” you asked, your voice uncertain.

“Of course not.” Rafe’s voice was low and filled with a husky, raw desire. “If anything, it just turns me on even more that no one touched you but me.”

There was something almost possessive in the way he said it, a dark, thrilling edge that sent a shiver down your spine. He took your hand and guided it toward the bulge in his pants. Your breath hitched when you felt him, hard and straining against the fabric. He hadn’t even touched you yet, and he was already this aroused. Your eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and nerves.

Rafe’s lips curved into a smirk at your reaction. “I want to be the one to teach you everything. Can I?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He leaned closer, his voice a soft, insistent murmur. “Baby, I’m gonna need your words.”

“Yes, I want you to teach me.” Your voice trembled, barely a whisper, but filled with the longing and anticipation that had been building between you for so long.

Rafe leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. It was rough, needy, and so full of unspoken feelings that it took your breath away. His fingers traced the hem of your dress, and before you knew it, he had pulled it over your head, leaving you standing there in only your underwear.

In a surge of bravery, you reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head. His skin was warm under your touch, his muscles taut and defined. His lips found yours again, hot and urgent, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You fumbled with his belt, your fingers trembling with nerves and excitement. Rafe’s hands joined yours, helping you, and soon you were both stripped down to your underwear, the air between you electric with anticipation.

In one swift movement, Rafe lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. Your core tingled, his hardness pressing against your most sensitive spot, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

He laid you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss, this one softer, sweeter.

His lips trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, his hands exploring every inch of your body. When his mouth found your breasts, you gasped, the sensation so new, so intense. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as his kisses grew more heated, more urgent.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, and you lifted your hips, letting him pull them down. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed core, making you shiver. Rafe’s gaze was intense, almost reverent, as he looked at you.

He placed a finger on your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made your breath hitch, your body arching toward him. The sensation built slowly, each gentle stroke sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your chest arching as Rafe's finger moved in those maddening, teasing circles. Every touch, every flick of his finger made you shudder, your nerves lighting up like fireworks.

He watched your reactions closely, his eyes dark with desire and something else—something deeper. He wanted you, yes, but he also wanted to make this perfect for you, to be the one to show you how good it could feel. The intensity of his gaze sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

When he slipped a finger inside you, your breath caught. He moved slowly, cautiously, giving you time to adjust. You felt a slight stretch, a dull ache that quickly melted into something more as he began to move, his finger sliding in and out in a rhythm that made your toes curl. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure began to build, a tight coil of sensation low in your belly.

“Rafe,” you whimpered, his name a desperate plea on your lips as you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch the way he looked at you, his focus entirely on the way your body responded to him.

“Does it feel good, Y/N?” he asked his voice barely a whisper, rough and breathless next to your ear. The sound of his voice, the way it trembled with restraint, made you shiver.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as his finger continued its relentless, perfect rhythm. He added another finger, and the sensation intensified, stretching you, filling you. The tightness in your stomach grew, winding tighter and tighter with each movement, each soft, sinful whisper of his voice.

Rafe leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss. You could taste the longing, the need in the way he kissed you, his lips hot and urgent against yours. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing gentle, maddening circles that made your whole body tremble.

“I want you to cum for me, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against that sensitive spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. “Rafe, I—” The words caught in your throat, lost in a moan as your body tensed, the coil of sensation inside you snapping as you fell over the edge.

Your climax hit you hard, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You cried out, your hands grasping at Rafe’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you held on, riding out the intense, blissful high.

Rafe watched you with a mix of awe and satisfaction, his fingers still moving, drawing out every last tremor of your orgasm until you were trembling beneath him, utterly spent.

“God..you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear as he gently pulled his fingers from your body. You whimpered at the loss, your body still sensitive, still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Rafe leaned down, kissing you softly, his lips tender against yours. You could feel his desire, the way his body strained with the effort to hold back, to be gentle, to let you come down from your high.

But then his lips left yours, and you felt his hands on the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down. You looked down, your eyes widening as you saw him, hard and ready, his length jutting out, intimidating and yet so incredibly enticing.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice soft, careful, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Wait!” Panic flared in your chest as you realized, your eyes widening. “You didn’t put a condom on.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I forgot.” Rafe’s voice was rushed, apologetic as he reached over to where his duffle bag was, rummaging through it until he pulled out a condom. You watched as he tore open the wrapper, your breath catching as he slid the condom over his length, his movements quick and efficient.

He returned to you, positioning himself above you once more, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire. “Can I continue now?”

You nodded, biting your lip as anticipation thrummed through you. You wanted this, more than anything. You wanted to feel him, to be as close to him as possible, to share this moment with him.

Slowly, carefully, Rafe pushed into you, his eyes never leaving your face. You scrunched your eyes shut for a second, the stretch intense, the dull ache making you wince. He paused, his hand gently brushing your cheek, waiting, watching, giving you time to adjust.

“You okay?” His voice was a soft, worried murmur.

You nodded, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He smiled, a small, relieved smile, and then he began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours. The first few thrusts were slow, almost tentative, as he let your body adjust, as you both found your rhythm.

The pain subsided, replaced by a slow-building pleasure that made your breath hitch, your body arching toward him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hips rising to meet his, the two of you moving together, finding a rhythm that made you feel like you were floating.

“That’s it, baby,” Rafe murmured, his voice rough and strained as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him close as your bodies moved in perfect sync.

The pleasure built, growing stronger with each thrust, each kiss, each soft, desperate moan that escaped your lips. You could feel Rafe’s body tensing, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate.

“Rafe, I think I’m—” Your words were cut off as his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing gentle, teasing circles that made your whole body shudder.

The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure building to a peak so intense you could barely breathe. Your body tensed, your breath catching as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, so close, so impossibly close.

“I want to feel you come around me,” Rafe whispered his voice a rough, desperate plea as he thrust into you, his pace quickening. His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as your orgasm crashed over you, so powerful it left you trembling, crying out his name.

You felt him follow, his body tensing, his breath catching as he shuddered, his release spilling into the condom. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in perfect sync.

He pulled out gently, his movements careful, and you felt a dull ache settling over your lower region, a reminder of the intensity of what had just happened. But you didn’t mind. It was worth it, every moment, every touch, every kiss.

“You did so good,” Rafe whispered, his voice filled with awe and pride as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and filled with something that made your heart swell.

You blushed, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him. “Thank you.”

Rafe pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you as you both lay there, tangled in each other, your bodies still buzzing with the afterglow. You felt safe in his arms, warm and content, the reality of what had just happened settling over you like a dream.

After a few minutes, you sat up, your mind already drifting back to the world outside, to the consequences, to what came next. “I should probably go,” you said softly, your voice hesitant, the thought of leaving him making your heart ache.

Rafe’s expression shifted, confusion flickering across his face as he sat up as well, his hand reaching out to grab your arm before you could slide out of bed. “No. Stay.”

You hesitated, looking down at where his fingers gently held your arm. “I didn’t tell anyone I left,” you murmured, your voice laced with uncertainty.

“Just tell them in the morning you slept at Sarah’s,” Rafe suggested, his voice earnest, his eyes searching yours. “Come on. I want you to stay with me.”

You looked at him, his expression so open, so sincere, and after a few seconds of weighing the consequences, you nodded. “Okay.” You knew the plan would work. You often stayed over at Sarah’s; no one would think twice about it.

You lay back down, your head resting against Rafe’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. A smile crept over your lips as the reality of what had just happened sank in. You had dreamed of Rafe being your first, and now it was real. It felt even better than you’d ever imagined.

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your hair as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. You felt safe, cherished, wrapped up in his warmth, the world outside fading away.

Soon, exhaustion washed over you both, your eyes growing heavy as you drifted off to sleep, still tangled in each other’s arms. You fell asleep with the comforting weight of Rafe’s presence beside you, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[sunflowerwinds]

a confession & question [h.c]

summary: your girlfriend finally tells you what she’s been keeping from you and it is nothing like what you were expecting. hazel asks you to come to an event that tony is throwing and you go on a fancy shopping trip (funded by stark industries).

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: spider!hazel, secrets revealed, mature content: suggestive making out, & pure fluff!

word count: 3.8K

a/n: things are brewing and they’ve made up. i hope absolutely nothing bad happens :)

SPIDER-HAZEL MASTERLIST

It had been merely a day without contact with Hazel. You were battling between writing assignments for your online classes and stuffing bears at Build-A-Bear that day wondering how to approach this situation the correct way. There was no way in hell you were going to break up with her but you wanted to truthfully and honestly sit down and have a long talk about how she was feeling.

To hear her out, to be there for her in whatever way she needed.

Hazel was a mess. She didn’t attend classes that day — which had May up the wall — as she stayed in bed sulking over being an absolute idiot. She was sleeping curled in her soft brown sheets and when she wasn’t sleeping, she was thinking of ways to apologize to you and reveal what has been itching at her for months now; that she was in fact Spider-Woman.

Should she just send a text saying: ‘I’m Spider-Woman. Please, believe me?’

No, that’s weird and pathetic.

She needs to do it in person so she can prove it to her with her suit. But when? Hazel checked her phone every two minutes in hopes your little icon would be there with a message.

It was around 4 pm when she had received a call from Josie. Hazel was pacing her ceiling in her suit, practicing on ways to show you that she was Spider-Woman. She ripped her mask off and aimed her web to her cell-phone on her desk, pressing the green button to accept the call.

“Hey, Jose. What’s up?” Hazel answered, a soft sigh leaving her lips from the tension and pressure building in her head from being upside down for a good while.

“Well, good afternoon to you. Why the hell do you sound like you’ve run three miles in ten minutes?” Josie questioned as her fingers typed rapidly on her keyboard from the other end.

Hazel grunts as she un-sticks herself from her popcorn ceiling to land on her wood floors. She runs a free hand through her unwashed frizzy hair, shrugging her shoulders.

“Just… hanging around,” she makes herself smile.

“Okay?” Josie responded. “Is that a spider joke?”

Hazel was still grinning as she replied: “Yup.”

Even though Josie knew it was a corny joke, she couldn’t help the snort leaving her lips.

“Anyways, uh, Happy told me to call you to remind you about this Sunday.” Josie hummed as she clicked her mouse buttons.

Hazel’s brows furrowed at Josie’s words. Her mind went completely blank.

“Jesus, you forgot didn’t you?” Josie sighed at how silent the spider-girl had gotten after her statement.

Hazel winces as she rushes over to her calendar for the month that was hung up above her working desk. Her eyes darted to the coming-up Sunday and there was just a tuxedo that she drew. What the fuck does that mean?

When does she ever wear a tuxedo?

“No…?”

Josie released another disappointed sigh.

“The charity event Tony is having for Heart Matters. Happy is supposed to take you shopping for an outfit on Friday.” Josie hummed which made Hazel mouth ‘fuck’ as she rubbed at her temple.

Okay, so two things she really needed to do.

“Right, yeah. No, I have a tuxedo on my calendar.” Hazel lied through her teeth.

Josie merely hummed at Hazel, still rapidly typing on her keyboard.

“Is that all you called me for?” Hazel questioned as the line had gone silent.

“Uhh, yeah, pretty much. I’ll call you with… something later,” she ended the call without saying ‘bye’.

The line beeps before clicking off to Hazel’s home screen. She smiled weakly at the photo of you two, admiring the joy on your face and her own. As she continued to look through her album of photos of you, a notification popped up at the top of the screen.

Her heart rate sped up as you had sent her a text after the most agonizing 24 hours of Hazel’s entire life saying that you wanted to have a ‘serious’ talk. Hazel wiped her sweaty palms on her thigh to send you a response that she could come to your place. You told her that worked for you.

Hazel grabbed her mask from where she had tossed it on her bed and slipped it on over her head. This was it.

It was finally time.

You were waiting patiently in your bedroom to hear a knock at your door. In all honesty, you were willing to just let it pass. Tell Hazel that you were being dramatic and apologize until your lips fell off.

That is until your PJ texted you to stand your ground and not Hazel manipulate you which was a bit dramatic but you knew she was coming from a place of love.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you tried to distract yourself as the seconds ticked by. PJ kept sending you messages that you were okay and that Hazel was nothing to worry about. It was way easier said than done. You put on a movie on your laptop to pass the time to refrain from checking the time.

About halfway through the movie, you hear a soft tapping noise. At first, you excused it as rain hitting your window. But the tapping noise only increased in volume. You take off your wired headphones and turn your neck towards the sound. Your eyes widen at Spider-Woman… sitting on your fire escape?

You froze for a moment, not really knowing what to do. The webbed hero knocked one more time and it took you out of the shock. You walked over to the window and hesitantly unlocked it to lift it up. It somehow wasn’t even registering that this could’ve been an imposter that someone had a costume on.

“Hey,” the masked woman spoke, her voice sounding like it was deepened.

“Hello? I don’t mean to sound weird but… what are you doing on my fire escape?” You let out a weak laugh, raising your brows as you stared into the white of the eyes on the mask.

The woman pointed into your room and cleared her throat.

“I said I’d come over, didn’t I?”

This time the voice wasn’t deepened. Your eyes nearly shot out of your head when you realized it was Hazel behind the mask.

“Haze?” You questioned with an incredulous tone.

You step back away from the window as your girlfriend steps into your bedroom in a Spider-Woman suit. Was this her way of trying to cheer you up for lying to you?

“What are you doing in a Spider-Woman costume?” You question as you shut the window and lock it, staring at Hazel taking off her mask.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself when you think that she actually fits the suit perfectly; like it was made for her. Hazel usually wore extremely baggy clothing which she also looked amazing in but this was a nice thing to see every once in a while.

It was kind of hot.

“Well, it’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Hazel cleared her throat, rubbing her thumbs over the material of the mask.

“Okay…” You stare at her with crossed arms over your comfy pj tee. “What? Are you Spider-Woman?”

Your tone was joking, a little snort leaving your lips as you chuckled to yourself. Hazel awkwardly laughed after you but just stared at you with a patient expression. Your laughter died as soon as you saw Hazel with a tight-lip grin plastered on her slightly flushed face.

You blink.

“I am Spider-Woman,” Hazel said slowly, hoping it would click in your head that this was nothing to laugh about.

“Spider-Woman?” You repeat to her in disbelief. “That person on the streets stopping burglaries, buses spinning out of control and a sort of Avenger?”

“Yeah,” Hazel confirmed.

You again blink. You take a seat on your bed as you examine the outfit your girlfriend is wearing. Hazel was scratching at her arm as she waited for a legitimate reaction.

Was this a joke? Why would she joke about something like this after the argument you guys had just had?

Your girlfriend is a superhero. A mutant. Your eyes widen as it settles in your stomach that she in no way is lying about this.

“You’re not joking, are you?” You cover your mouth with your palm.

“I can… prove it if you want,” Hazel rushes out, glancing up at your ceiling.

You, too, glance up at your ceiling with confusion as to why she did. That is until in the blink of an eye Hazel was hanging from your ceiling by her fingertips. You scrunch up your face at the sight, feeling like your brain is short-circuiting as you’re watching your girlfriend just dangling by her hand from the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” You whisper as you haven't moved a single muscle since you sat down.

Hazel released her body and landed back on her feet with a soft grunt. Her big blue eyes were waiting for a response.

“I— I didn’t know how to tell you before because Mr.Stark was extremely persistent on not letting anyone find out. Especially you and May but now you both know so I’m probably screwed but I don’t care anymore. I hate lying to you. I needed you to know so that you don’t think I’m doing it because I don’t want you to know. Do you know how hard it is to not tell you everything that I’ve done as Spider-Woman? I want to share everything with you and—“

“Hazel!” You interrupt with a light-hearted chuckle.

Hazel sucked in a deep breath due to her panicked rambling. You stood up from the bed and walked over to cup her face. You tilt your head to kiss her gently, inhaling as Hazel’s hands settle on your hips.

“Are you mad at me?” Hazel whispered against your lips, eyes fluttering when you pulled away slightly.

You hum and shake your head, running your hands over her shoulders. What was this suit made of? That material was surprisingly thick.

“Haze, I’m just… in shock, I guess. I mean, it’s pretty badass that my girlfriend is Spider-Woman.” You shrug your shoulders, tracing her jaw with your thumbs.

Hazel blushed at your words, feeling all the more at ease that you were not pissed with her anymore.

“I’m sorry again that I kept it from you,” Hazel sighed , her eyes flickering across all your features. I love you, she thought and almost vomited at the overwhelming feeling.

The two of them still haven’t said the three words yet. Hazel has known how for sure she was of her love for you within the first month. You, on the other hand, have been scared and hesitant to accept feelings so intensely because of your past relationship. Hazel never wanted to press and pry about something that was so personal.

It hurt to not shower you with the love that was pent up inside of her.

“Baby,” you shake your head, the pet name putting Hazel at ease. “I’m not mad. I wasn’t really mad, just afraid, I think.”

Hazel frowned at your timid voice.

“Afraid?”

Her sweet and comforting tone almost made everything come spilling out.

“It’s a me thing,” you scoff and wave your hand in hopes she wouldn’t focus on that.

Hazel’s big blue eyes were pulling you in though like she was hypnotizing you into spilling about your past. You needed to say something else to distract.

“So the webs come out of you?” You suck in a deep breath and you take one of her gloved hands into yours.

“Uhh, yeah. It feels really weird but I’ve gotten used to it,” Hazel explains but is still looking at you with worry.

“That’s insane. Were you born this way?” You trace over.

Hazel shook her head, watching your fingers trace the stitching of her custom suit.

“No, it was a spider from that field trip we took to that lab months ago. It died, like, as soon as it bit me. I didn’t think it was anything until I woke up the next day in a cold sweat, my senses heightened by ten and weirdly toned?” Hazel chuckled as she briefly explained her backstory.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in. There was something both reassuring yet terrifying about this. Hazel would be getting into danger pretty frequently and the thought of her risking her life daily made your stomach turn.

“When did you decide you were going to use your… power for something good?” You questioned.

“Well, you, actually,” Hazel admitted with a rose blush.

Your eyes soften as you mutter: “Me?”

“Yeah, I thought if I could protect the people of the city, I could protect you.” Hazel turned a shade of red you had only seen a few times.

It was sickenly adorable.

“Hazel,” you lean in to kiss her flushed cheeks.

Hazel shakes her head as she allows you to kiss her cheeks. You let out a few giggles as she tries to act like she isn’t enjoying every moment of your lips on you.

“You know,” you pull away to rank your eyes up and down her body, “this suit is kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know,” you begin to shy away, intertwining your hand in her back into your bed. Hazel follows you with narrowed eyes as she watches you.

“Is this,” Hazel motioned down to her skin-tight suit, “turning you on?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Maybe?”

Hazel nodded to herself, a flush on her cheeks.

“Really?”

“Baby, you always turn me on.” You tease as you grab her hand and shove her down on your comforter.

Hazel bounces slightly on the springy mattress as she stares up at you hovering over her face. Your knee was in between her lower thighs and your hands were on either side of her shoulders. Her blush deepened as a sly smirk was plastered on your face as you leaned down to kiss her slowly.

Her gloved hands settled on the soft of your waist, her thumbs skimming the waistband of your cotton pajama shorts. You hum as you pull away to kiss her jaw once. You adjusted yourself so that your knees were now on either side of her hips, straddling her red and blue cladded thighs.

Hazel’s eyes beamed up at you as you lifted your shirt up and off your body so that your lounging bra was the only piece of clothing on your body.

“Wait, wait, wait before we… get to it, um, I got to ask you something,” Hazel massaged your hips as she sucked in a deep breath.

You were trying to pay attention but her palms on you really weren't helping. You tilt your head as she speaks, watching her fumble over her words and her blush deepen.

“Would you want to go with me to this charity event that Mr. Stark is hosting for Heart Matters? I—I have a suit fitting this Friday and I’m sure that Mr.Stark can get you a dress too,” Hazel grinned up at you as your fingers played with the hair at the nape of her neck.

You pretend to think about it before giving her a few loving pecks on her lips.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go with you. I haven’t seen you in a suit since prom.”

“Okay, this will be a designer brand. Not whatever me and May could grab at the thrift store,” Hazel grinned cheekily, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, I liked that suit.” You frown.

There was even a photo from the photo booth at your prom on the wall right above your bed frame. Hazel's slightly baggy suit fit her so adorably, her tie matching with the color of your dress. It was one of your favorite photos of the two of you.

“Yeah, me too,” Hazel muttered before straining her neck to kiss you again.

Mid-makeout, you randomly remember that your girlfriend is Spider-Woman.

You’re sucking face with Spider-Woman.

You and Hazel approach the large glass doors lined with deep black . You squint one eye and raise your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring rays of the sun. Hazel’s hand interlocked with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“Dolce & Gabbana?” You read the lettering, glancing into the empty store.

“Yeah, Mr.Stark insisted,” Hazel nodded slowly. “Happy should be inside somewhere.”

You give her a curt nod as you anxiously stare through the glass. You and Hazel hesitantly walk through the doors, instantly feeling out of place under the bright lights and sleek white floors.

You felt like everyone could see the poor on you.

Well, it was sort of obvious as you were wearing your beaten-down sneakers, a pair of baggy 90’s jeans and a ribbed graphic tee. Hazel sported a similar outfit except everything was a lot baggier.

“Can I help you?” A woman with a slicked-back bun and slim square glasses approaches you two.

“Uh, we’re here with Stark Industries,” Hazel grinned at her.

“Oh right. Mr. Hogan should be just down that hall for your customs,” the woman motioned her perfectly manicured hand down a long hallway.

“Thank you,” you tell her with a kind smile.

You try not to roll your eyes at her obviously fake grin. You walk down the hallway, hand in hand with Hazel as you round a corner. In a big bright room, there stood a man with a peppered goatee and a black and white suit and a woman in the same form of business casual.

Before you knew it, you were standing in the middle of a designer brand store with your girlfriend and her billionaire boss’s assistant watching you get sized for a custom-made dress. You never thought this would be something you’ve never thought you’d be doing.

Hazel was sitting next to Happy, both of them sipping on sparkling water. You felt slightly awkward as you had to squeeze into shapewear to make it much easier to get your dimensions. Hazel reassured you every once in a while that this was going to be perfect.

“So let me ask you something,” Happy cleared his throat as he set his tall glass to the side, pointing at you.

“Sure,” you grin, eyes wide and anticipating.

“How did… you two happen?”

Happy is pretty nice from what you can tell. He gives a teddy bear vibe, trying to be snarky and mean when he’s pretty sweet. Like now wanting to know the gossip of how you and Hazel’s relationship blossomed.

“Hazel was my stalker,” you tease your girlfriend as she turns beet red.

“What?” Happy’s face dropped for a moment, leaning away from her.

“No, no, we were in the same class senior year and we got partnered for a project. Then we just started seeing each other everywhere: her uncle’s bodega, the same coffee shops, thrift stores. Everywhere. One day she came up to me and asked if I was following her. I freaked out because it did seem that way but I like to think it was just meant to be,” Hazel spilled, twirling her few rings around her fingers.

“That’s our little story. I asked her if she wanted to come with me to try a new coffee shop that neither of us had been to. She kissed me on the first date,” you share with a chuckle.

Your eyes soften as the workers around you begin to ‘awe’ at Hazel’s rundown. Happy’s eyes flickered between you and Hazel’s blushing faces, a small smirk on his face.

“I did not think you would be the one to make the first move,” he replied, raising his eyebrows at Hazel.

You bit back your amused grin as Hazel scoffs. The sweet worker measuring your waist made eye contact with you, holding back her own grin as well.

“What does that mean?” Hazel frowned at Happy.

“No offense to you, kid, but you don’t seem like the type to make the first move.” Happy tried to defend Hazel.

She looked over at you with a frown. You scrunched up your face a little to show that you agreed. Obviously, you knew Hazel little moves here and there but she did give a nervous-unable-to-flirt vibe. But in a charming way.

To you, of course.

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I think it's adorable,” you beam at her.

Hazel nods to herself as you reassure her that you love how cute she is.

“There,” the worker measuring you finalized.

You stepped off the lit up platform, giving her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’. She pointed a finger at Hazel and curled it for her to stand on the platform that you were previously on. Hazel stood up from her seat to give you a gentle kiss on your cheek before taking your place. You take hers right next to Happy, glancing at him nervously.

“So, what’s it like working for superheroes?” You question, smiling kindly.

Happy took a sip of his drink before letting out a long sigh: “Amazing.”

His tone told you otherwise. You nod slowly, messing with the fabric on your legs as you wait for Hazel to be measured for her suit. Hazel stood eerily still which kind of freaked you out.

“Baby, breathe,” you state with a teasing smile.

Hazel released a breath as she sent you a weird grin. “Sorry.”

You knew Hazel tended to forget to breathe when she was put in unfamiliar situations.

“You know, you two are a lot cuter than I had thought. This one over here could not stop talking about you every single time we were alone,” Happy chipped in after another round of silence.

You beam at the man, turning towards him as you press for answers.

“H-Happy, you’re sworn to secrecy!” Hazel interrupted with a stutter.

Happy held his hands up in defense as Hazel’s eyes kept darting to you and Happy as the woman measured down the length of her arms.

Happy, even though being sworn to secrecy, leans in to whisper to you: “She’s a real sap for you, you know?”

Your heart flutters as you nod. You think about the many, many photos Hazel would send you of random updates throughout her day, the little gifts she got you, and how often she reminds you how much she cares about you. But you always make sure she receives the amount of gentle gestures she gives you.

You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. Well, you thought you’ve felt like this before. This time it felt true.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m one for her too.”

TAG-LIST: @atyourmerci @mih11 @camilleee222 @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @alesbianperson @slaughtercarrie @cllhan @ahdbodhr @ih8chickentenders @bluerazberrystarz @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovevampires99 @sam-cooperrr @guzzlingplastic111 @rubycruzin4abruzin @cyberchomp @lucicorn72 @angelsknifeprty @lamolaine @cinnamonmilf @elliesprettygirl

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 27 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x fem!reader, roman reigns x fem!reader, austin theory x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, jealous!cody

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

she woke up with a groan. the sound of her alarm blaring from her phone becoming increasingly annoying with every millisecond that passed. she reached for her phone beside her head, opening her eyes to stop the alarm as she sat up in her bed. austin stirred from the bed on the floor, and she watched as he turned on to lay on his back before he continued to snore softly.

she pushed her blanket off of her, getting out of bed and carefully stepping over austin so she could make it over to her desk. y/n pulled out her toiletry bag, her keys, and made her way to her door. y/n pulled her door open slightly - just enough for her to slip out of the room without too much light seeping in.

with her head pounding, she made her way to the bathroom to find that cody was already in there.

“morning, cody.” she mumbled, taking up the space at the sink besides where cody was already standing.

cody looked over the girl, his gaze transfixed to where the girl’s crop top ended and left her midsection on display. his initials were beginning to scar over, and cody wanted nothing more than to reach out and trace his fingers over them. he felt pride in the fact that the girl didn’t hide the fact that he had branded her, especially knowing that the mystery man was most likely still in that room. “morning, y/n.” he greeted after he spit out his toothpaste, turning on the tap and washing off his toothbrush.

they stood in silence for a moment as cody washed out his mouth with his mouthwash and y/n began to brush her teeth. y/n stared at herself in the mirror as she thought back to the events of the night before.

it was a much needed reunion for her and austin. their night was full of giggles, bad singing and rapping, and them doordashing mcdonalds and eating to their hearts’ content before calling it a night. and although austin had told her to cool it on the deep talks, of course y/n still brought it up. and she could now happily say that she’s made up her mind and her heart.

“so, i uh happened to overhear your friend before he went in.” cody began, clearing his throat as he put away his stuff into his own bag. he caught y/n’s gaze in the mirror, noting that the girl had seemed lost in thought before he caught her attention again. “you were crying?” he asked as he walked over to her, already reaching into her bag for a hair tie.

cody felt a little awkward as he began to tie her hair up. although the girl had requested that he didn’t change the way he had treated her from before they started sleeping together, cody couldn’t help but overthink about what would be overstepping. it took everything in him to not wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back against him after he finished tying her hair, but cody forced himself to take a step back.

“uh, yeah.” y/n replied after spitting out her toothpaste and washing her toothbrush. “very stressful day yesterday. so i called austin and he drove up and we drank.” she continued, catching cody’s gaze. she watched as he reached for her mouthwash, pouring some into the cap before holding it out for her to take.

“you drank?” cody asked, and suddenly he could feel chills run down his spine. “with austin?” he continued.

cody figures this is what it felt like to be insecure. he remembers austin as being the man in the group chat who had told y/n that he would bend her over and put the plan b to use. he also remembers as austin being that man that y/n said had been trying to get in her pants since forever. clearly y/n and austin were close, with y/n being so upset that she needed a friend to be there with her and austin being the first to come to her mind because she didn’t want to reach out to him and ted.

he could feel the way his heart seemed to physically drop in his chest, and cody became hyperaware of how slow his heart began to beat. he hadn’t noticed that he was frowning, or that y/n had turned to face him until he felt her hands against his cheeks.

“jealousy is a good look on you, codes.” y/n mused softly in a teasing manner, exactly how she had once told him so long ago. she pressed her thumbs pressing against the corners of cody’s mouth as she pushed them upwards.

cody’s hands immediately found their place on her hips and he relaxed against her touch. that was one way to ease a man’s nerves, he thought to himself with a smile.

“just a little jealous.” cody admitted, watching as y/n chuckled and turned back around in his grasp to face the mirror again. she reached for her skincare as cody let his hands fall from her hips, stepping off to the side and leaning against the counter.

“to answer your questions: yes i drank and yes, specifically with austin. i needed a little pick me up and honestly, being reunited with him was something i didn’t know i needed so badly.” she sighed, a small smile on her face as she began her skincare routine.

cody hummed in acknowledgement. although her actions had made him feel a little better, cody could still feel as though he was about to break down and cry yet again. he wanted to be there for y/n in the way austin was, but cody understood why she couldn’t come to him or ted.

as he watched her go through her skincare routine, cody could only imagine what else happened in that room. he knew how y/n was when she was drunk - but the fact that she wasn’t throwing up the contents of her stomach right now were enough to reassure cody that she didn’t get completely shitfaced. cody also only knew the surface of y/n and austin’s relationship, he had no idea if she was as touchy with him as she was with him and ted.

that fact was enough for cody to want to leave just a few more marks of his name etched into her skin - for good measure, of course. then, another thought hit him. "did you two sleep in the same bed?" he asked.

jealousy made cody feel ugly. he hated the way he felt at the thought of y/n in bed with another man, and even now when he thinks about how she'd nap with ted, cody could feel himself getting angry. before cody could continue to wallow in his anger and sadness, y/n spoke up, "no. he brought an air mattress."

cody visibly relaxed and he let out a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding in.

in the next moment, austin walked into the bathroom, slightly stumbling on his own two feet. “morning.” he hummed in greeting, walking over and wrapping his arm around y/n’s waist as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head - careful of her skin.

cody tore his gaze away from them, swallowing back the envy that had balled up in his throat.

“morning austin.” she greeted with a smile, catching austin’s gaze in the reflection. “oh, this is cody by the way.” she introduced cody to austin. “cody, this is austin. my step-brother.”

it was then that cody’s gaze snapped back to where her and austin stood. y/n knew it was unnecessary to introduce austin as her step-brother, after all, their parents had yet to tie the knot. but when she saw the confidence and hope reignite in cody’s gaze, she knew that it was the right choice.

“disgusting.” austin groaned, unwrapping his arm from around her waist. “they’re not married yet, baby. please don’t remind me that we’re going to be related.” he huffed, walking past her. as he passed by cody, he gave the man a fistbump in greeting before walking into a stall.

“but didn’t you say that he’s been trying to get at -“ cody began, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“we missed the timing.” y/n answered quickly, her cheeks burning up in embarrassment. “our parents got together in middle school when we used to actually have crushes on each other. it sorta just faded into this dynamic where austin suggests we fuck like those step-siblings in porn.” she laughed.

the sound of the toilet flushing was followed by austin emerging from the stall. “all i’m saying is, if there’s a washing machine - you better hope you get there before me, cody.” he joked with a laugh as he walked up to a sink and began to wash his hands. however, even cody could tell that there was some truth under his words.

cody’s gaze flickered between the two of them as y/n went back to finishing her skincare routine. he suddenly felt a semi-wet hand tap his shoulder and cody turned his head to give austin his full attention. his eyes widened in shock as austin whispered in his ear, his gaze still fixed on the man even as he laughed and left the restroom to retreat back to y/n’s.

“what’d he say?” y/n asked after austin left the room, clearly having watched the exchange between the two men in the mirror.

cody could only turn back to face y/n with a wide smile, taking a step towards her and wrapping his arm around her waist. he rubbed his thumb over his initials on carved into her hip, hearing the way her breath hitched in her throat and she quickly met his gaze in the reflection.

“don’t worry your silly little head, sweetheart.” he mused, watching the way her blush on her cheeks had deepened.

she turned her head so she could look up at him instead, a wide smile on her face. she reached up to cup his face in her hand, feeling him press against her hand gently. she figures whatever austin told cody was enough for him to stop acting so cautious around her. she was thankful for that, after all, she was beginning to miss cody’s touch and the way he’d look at her with hopeful eyes instead if the sad ones that had adorned his face since the previous day.

“yeah?” she whispered, figuring that she didn’t need to say much else.

“yeah.” cody affirmed with a hum, feeling her thumb run across her cheekbone before she pulled her hand away from his face.

the original plan was to finally get her to realize that i’m the best guy there is for her. but with the way she talked about you last night and has been talking about you since she’s met you, i already know her heart’s made a decision. don’t make me regret giving her up to you.

|| next part ||

taglist: @iluvthebloodline , @marissaboo-2015 , @vebner37 , @jeyusos-girl , @madqueenpartna, @alyyaanna @banksreigns @crossrhodez @goldenfoxe @bonehead-playz, @vyxio, @codyswhitebelt, @legit9thlunaticwarrior, @queencherryberry, @totired4this

[lovingrosewho]

Hotline

Summary: you decide to call the hotline to the precinct claiming to have information on a case, so you can meet the hot FBI agent you saw on tv.

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1689

Warnings: age gap but it’s not specified, miiiild sex suggestions, mentions of murder and usual tv series stuff.

“Nuh-uh. There’s no way I’m calling” you tell your sister, still mortified after what you saw.

“You have to! It’s your duty as a citizen!” she argues with you, yelling from the kitchen, making you tea as you keep processing the events from earlier.

It had never crossed your mind that what you saw could be a federal crime. You had just been ending your shift as a bartender, heading to your car, but when you got to it, you dropped your keys and got on your knees to look for them, luckily, because otherwise, what went on on the other side, might have happened to you if whoever was there discovered there was a witness. You just saw two pairs of feet too close to one another, and you recognized one of them as one of your customers, then you heard a low punch and the sound of dragging. After everything got silent you entered your car and drove as fast as you could out of there. You just thought some junkie was mugging the guy who got out of that bar, not that a serial killer was loose and wreaking havoc in your town.

“No, I’m sorry, but no. What if that lunatic finds me? Or worse, you? No. They’ll have to figure something else out to catch him” you declare, making your sister sigh as she hands you your tea and turns the volume of the tv up. As she does so, the image on the screen changes to something (or better said, someone) in a forefront view, and catches your eye.

He’s much older, you can tell, you have a good age radar, mid-forties at least, for sure, but early-fifties tops. His deep brown eyes full of concern, and his eyebrows furrowed, permanently by the looks of it. He’s wearing a suit and tie, making his back and shoulders look even broader than in the footage you had watched earlier from a much distant plane. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel them without all those layers of clothes. The image changes again and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, you turn to your sister to find her looking mockingly at you.

“Eager much to come forward now?” she asks with sarcasm.

“What?” you ask back, unsure of what she means, but too embarrassed to follow up that question given you very well know you didn’t pay attention to a word that man said, too busy indulging in your own fantasies. Your sister just laughs.

“That agent on the tv? The one you were drooling over? He was saying that they’re out of leads on the case, that if anyone has any information on the last victim, he will personally attend to it and protect the witnesses”. You remain speechless, but your sister catches the slightest twist on your mouth, clear sign that you’re debating yourself, inclining more towards the ‘yes’ than the ‘no’. She shakes her head, keeping the sarcastic smile on and handing you her phone. “(Y/N), call the damn hotline”.

You make a fake disbelief and offended face at her, but take the phone and make the call either way. A local officer picks up, but when you explain the nature of your call, she passes you through immediately. After a couple minutes, the hypnotizing voice you heard before is right there, speaking through the phone. This time, you know you’re holding your breath.

“This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Who am I talking to?” his grave voice questions, although it seems much more like a command. You clear your throat before speaking, suddenly out of words and lacking hydration.

“Uh-yeah-yes. I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)”.

“What can I do for you?” he asks another question. He’s being polite but you can tell he’s testing if you’re wasting his time or not.

“We were watching the news. I saw the guy who is your last victim. I think that perhaps I was the one who saw him last” you confess. The other side of the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“Do you mind coming down to the precinct, miss (Y/L/N)?” his voice tone sounds much more gentle this time, still in charge, but it sounds as if he’s figured you out and therefore, he can be at ease.

“Not at all. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I look forward to meeting you, Agent Hotchner”. You don’t wait for a response, you can tell there’s fumes of confusion emanating from the phone, but you hang up before even your brain catches up with your mouth. Your sister bursts out laughing.

“What was that about?!” she asks playfully, still laughing.

“Shut up” you tell her, equally playful, fixing your makeup and grabbing your purse before heading out the door and driving to the precinct.

“Go. Go meet the hot FBI agent” your sister keeps laughing.

When you arrive, who appears to be the officer you talked to earlier, guides you towards one of the cubicles, where Agent Hotchner is already waiting for you.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)” he stands up to shake your hand. Maybe it’s a delusion, but you think, even if it is for a split second, that his eyes linger briefly on you.

“Please, (Y/N) is fine” you assure with a suggestive smile, which you’re not sure if he catches (oh, but he does, even if you don’t know it).

“I’ll leave you to it” the officer tells him with a swift nod which he returns, and gets out of the small cubicle.

“Nice to finally meet you. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We spoke on the phone” he reminds you (as if you needed reminding), indicating for you to sit down and following after you. You can’t help but notice the ‘finally’ in his first sentence. He looks deadly serious, but his words? Not so much.

“Well, Aaron, did we speak on the phone? I can’t remember. Oh wait, yes, you’re the hot FBI agent I saw on tv” you flirt, lightly inclining yourself towards him. There’s not much room in the cubicle, so your actions are fairly noticeable. There’s a mild tug at the corner of his lips, but he stays in character. You can tell he’s in his federal agent, work mode.

“You said you had some information you wanted to share with me?”. Me. Not ‘us’.

“Yes. I bartend at the bar the guy you found last night was. The one next to the woods?” you decide to play along his game first: answer all his questions regarding the case, then flirt.

“He was one of your customers?”

“Yes. Not a regular one though. I’ve just seen him a couple of times”.

You explain the whole situation to him, the full scene as well as you can remember it.

“How did you know the pair of shoes belonged to him?” he reaches the end of his questions, it seems to you as if this last question is more out of curiosity than anything.

“The guy hit on me the first time he was there, as they all do, but with that stupid neon red pair of sneakers? Please. I’d recognize them anywhere”. Agent Hotchner suppresses a snicker.

At this point, there’s little to no space between the two of you, the cubicle is so small you’re surprised they could fit two people in here.

“Sorry about the lack of space. The conference room, interrogation room, and practically all the other rooms are entirely occupied. With the case and all” he apologizes looking directly in your eyes, deviating his gaze just once to your lips. You lick them and bite the lower one, and he notices.

“I’m not complaining” you tell him, leaning even closer, now there’s merely a couple inches separating your lips from his. He lets out a hitched breath.

“Well, if, you think of anything else that might be useful, I’ll give you my card with my personal information on it” he says, but can’t bring himself to stand up. You lick your lips once again and put one of your hands on his knee. Hotchner panics silently, but still can’t bring himself to stop you, he quickly scans the surroundings to be sure no one’s nor watching nor hearing.

“Oh, I can think of a few ways I can make myself useful”. You finally lean in what’s rest of the space between the two of you, collapsing your lips together, maintaining the kiss passionate but silent, the hand you have on his knee lightly squeezing it and traveling slightly up. Aaron places his hands on your hips but breaks the kiss moments after and stands up. He takes one of his cards out of his suit pocket, writes something fast on it, and hands it to you.

“Well, (Y/N), thank you for coming. If you think of anything else. Do not hesitate on calling, have a nice day”. He speaks a bit louder than earlier. You’re guessing, so most people can hear and don’t suspect anything funny happened. He gives you a small nod and turns around, walking outside the cubicle, heading where his team is. You stay perplexed for a few seconds, until your eyes come down to the card he just gave you and spot his personal phone, the name of the hotel they’re all staying in and his room number. You bite your tongue so you don’t scream in delight. When you calm down, you go out of the cubicle to the exit. Agent Hotchner and you catch a glimpse of each other. He gives you a small, mischievous smile when you wink at him and head out of the precinct. Aaron lets out a deep breath and shakes his head in disbelief, proceeding to walk to the conference room, reuniting with Derek, Reid and Rossi.

“That took longer than expected. Everything okay?” Morgan questions his boss as he enters. The three of them, Derek, Reid and Rossi exchange glances but say nothing.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. What else do we have here?” Hotch says, disguising his excitement.

MASTERLIST

[mosneakers]

Tycho would go on to break his promise to Coraleye, having told her he’d call her when he gets back to Strangerville. In fact, it's been barely three minutes into his drive, the memory of their last kiss and her soft lips still lingering in his mind like a film reel on loop, when Tycho's resolve crumbles and he reaches for his phone.

"Coraleye..." He swoons as she answers his call.

Tycho can vividly picture Erwin's smug grin as he imagines him jokingly calling him a pathetic goon. But that doesn't matter to Tycho. Actually, looking back on tonight's events, he can't quite recall what possessed him to feel so jealous—likely just a stressful situation with emotions running high for everyone. Coraleye was right—Erwin is his best friend. And at the end of the day, Tycho gets Coraleye all to himself. He knows this from the way she lovingly promises it through whispers over the phone, stirring butterflies within him.

Tycho: I... I can multitask you know... I just miss you already. One little picture isn't gonna hurt...

Coraleye: Huh-uh! Not while you're driving, Tycho. You know how I feel about risky stuff like that, safety first.

Tycho: [Frustrated, playful groan] You're killing me, Darling.

Coraleye: That's what I'm trying to avoid.

Tycho: Okay, how about this, I need to stop for gas anyway. Pretty sure the nearest gas station is less than 5—

Coraleye: I'll talk to you soon, Tyke. Love you. [Laughter] Tycho: I- I love you too. Is that a yes or—

Tycho clumsily juggles his phone while pumping gas, his fingers fumbling with the touchscreen as he eagerly awaits Coraleye's message. Her name pops up on his screen, and it's like a gift from the heavens, his jaw drops when he opens it. Mesmerized by the photo, he struggles to formulate the perfect response. Suddenly, his phone chirps loudly indicating an incoming call, causing him to jump and spill a bit of gas as it overflows onto the pavement. Cursing softly, he quickly wipes his hands and tries to regain his composure before redirecting his attention back to his phone. "Coni," it reads. His stomach drops as he eagerly accepts, his heart racing as he puts the phone to his ear. Tycho: CONI???

Coni: Hey. You alone right now? Tycho: Hey? Y-yes—Where have you been? Everyone's worried sick about you... Coni: Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Listen— Erwin almost got abducted tonight. Tycho: WHAT? Coni: It was a close call. Right next to his Curio-stand, as he was getting off work. They... they almost had him, but I pulled him in last minute. He didn't know it was me, I was in a different disguise. Tycho: D-did you—

Coni: Erase his memory? No. I told him that they're going to eliminate him. I needed him to remember it. He went home right after. The news is all over it, Tycho. Vans surrounding the scene as we speak. I can't keep watching him, you'll need to step in. Tycho: I... I'm on the way. Coni... what happened? Between you and Sunglo? Things were going so well, I don't understand. Coni: [Brief pause] He knows. Tycho's head feels like it's spinning in circles. Tycho: [Voice quivering] He... he knows what exactly? [Voice quivering] Everything?

Coni: Not everything. He knows about me. I told him. I was tired, Tycho. Tycho can't argue or question her, he knows exactly how she feels.

Tycho: Does Coraleye know? Coni: [Long sigh] He promised not to tell anyone, but I'd be surprised if he didn't tell her. Tycho: Oh god, I... Tycho begins to hyperventilate, he can feel himself begin to unravel.

Coni: Just relax. It's all gonna work out, I got it under control. I'm an icon, remember? For now, just focus on getting back to Strangerville and keeping Erwin safe, got it?

Tycho finds a slight reprieve in Coni's reassurance, and he lets himself breathe a little. Tycho: I'll get there as soon as I can. But first, Coni? Coni: Yeah? Tycho: Can you call her? Coraleye? Just so she and... everyone knows you're okay. Glo's worried too. Coni: [Sighs] Sure, Tycho. I'll call her.

[dagreninjagurl]

Christmas Shopping

This is gonna be my first Venom fanfic cuz I’m bored and I’m trying new stuff out. And happy holidays to all.

This event takes place after Venom War, AND THIS COULD HAVE HAPPENED IF VENOM WAR HAD A HAPPY ENDING. It’s mainly Dylan Brock and Bren Waters going Christmas shopping until something came up.

———————————————————————————

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to recover from the Venom War. It was so chaotic. I don’t even know where to began with it. But all I know is that we got Dad and Venom back. I never told them this, but I feel so glad for both of them to be home. We don’t have to be on the run anymore. Spider-Man made sure there would be no military units or science company on our asses again.

RING! RING!

I pick up my phone from my bed—near Sleeper who was peacefully napping on the bed. I stare at my phone as I realized Bren was the one who was calling me.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey, man. You wanna go Christmas shopping with us?” he spoke as Toxin. I heard the wind blowing through the phone. I only assume they were swinging through the city.

“Why? It’s only December 1st.” I said.

“Cuz we’re gonna be out of town next week. Might as well shop and hang out with you,”

“Can you pick me up? I don’t have a ride,”

“Well, I’m already at your door. So be ready,” Bren replied as I soon heard the door bell ring.

DING DONG!

“You’re going with Bren, I assume,” Sleeper calmly said as it stretched in its cat form.

“Yeah. You coming with?” I asked it. In response, Sleeper nodded.

I rush downstairs with Sleeper to see Dad and Venom watching a Christmas movie in the living room. Though, I only see Venom’s head bobbling next to Dad.

“I’m going Christmas shopping with Bren,” I said so that they won’t have to make a scene of worries. A moment later, Venom turned around to see me in my iconic blue sweatshirt.

“If you’re going out like that, at least wear a coat,” Venom scolded as he reached a tendril for my coat that was hooked onto a coat rack near the front door.

“Here,” he insisted.

“Thanks, Venom. Do you guys uh—want anything?” I asked them as I put on the gray coat.

“All we want is for you to have fun before we get a snowstorm. And chocolate of course,” Venom answered.

“Have fun, kiddo!” Dad exclaimed from the couch.

“Okay, see you guys later!” I said before exiting through the door with Sleeper on my shoulder.

As I exited, I saw Bren standing in front of the steps of the door. His expression seemed irritated as he watched me exit the door. He wore a maroon and navy blue jacket that corresponds to Toxin’s form.

“About time, man. I’ve been standing here for five minutes,” he complained as he stared at me as I locked the front door.

“Five minutes isn’t nothing,” I replied.

“Whatever. Anyway, where do you want to go?” Bren asked as I walked down the steps of the town house.

“I don’t know. You have anything in mind?” I questioned as we stood in front of the steps of the town house.

“We were gonna get a gift for Dad. Except, we don’t have clue what to get him,” he responded.

“What about we walk around town and see if we desire for any of the shops,” Sleeper suggested.

A moment later, we began to walk down the aisle of town houses. We live near the metro of the city—close enough to where we can intervene if there’s a crime nearby.

We walked down numerous blocks of stores. However, none of them caught my interest. Except, Bren and Toxin’s attention was focused on such a dogwater store.

We paused in front of a Barnes and Noble.

“How about we look through Barnes and Noble?” Bren suggested as he stared at the sign that spelled out BARNES & NOBLE.

“You actually shop here?” I questioned them.

“Yeah? You don’t?”

“No, man. It’s so dog water,” I responded in annoyance.

“Whatever, man. Let’s just get inside. It’s so cold out here,”

Then, we entered through the open entrance of the dog water store. I don’t know if they have chocolate in here. I could sense Venom really wanting it.

“Does this place sell Chocolate?” I asked Bren as Toxin slowly appeared next to his neck.

“Well there’s a Starbucks in here. There’s a chance they could have chocolate,” Bren answered.

We then walked passed a few aisles to reach Starbucks. There were only a few shelf’s that contained similar items to chocolate. We browsed through some of them. However, there was an inconvenience.

“What the hell? How are they out of chocolate?” Bren exclaimed in a frustrated look.

“You know what, it’s fine. We can always look somewhere else,” I responded.

“But they shouldn’t be out of chocolate. They’re usually in stock!” Toxin replied as he let out a tendril to tap on the display name.

“See? It’s supposed to be all chocolate,” Toxin said. “All of those greedy humans took them al!”

“Calling us greedy, huh?” I commented.

“Like what you said. Let’s look somewhere else,” Bren repeated.

However, as we slowly approached the exit of Starbucks, we heard a little commotion behind us.

“Give us ALL of you money, lady!” a man with a ski mask begged as he held a pistol in front of the cashier.

“YEAH! Just give us the money, and you’ll be free. You don’t want to die, do you?” the accomplish demanded as he held both a pistol and a gray Walmart bag.

Sleeper and I stared at Bren and Toxin, and they stared back. Without any words, and by the family connection we had, we already knew what to do.

“COME ON LADY HURRY—“

“You dare arm an innocent woman?” Toxin questioned as they shifted their arms into a sharp precise blade.

“You all are going to hell,” I sharply criticized in my Codex form. It’s a good thing Venom left a tiny piece of himself within me—in case of an emergency.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” one of the robbers shouted as Sleeper shifted into its regular form—fuming numerous chemicals in the air.

In the end, the two robbers were no big deal. We were only there to intimidate them. They lay flat—unconscious on the checkered floor.

“You will be safe, lady,” Toxin said as they walked across the two unconscious bodies.

“Please call the police immediately,” I requested. “And tell them… we saved you,”

End?…

———————————————————————————

Part 2?

I might create more Venom fanfics in the future.

I’m currently making a small comic and the fic was based off of that. Stay tuned for that!

Happy New Years everyone!

[junglemax]

hook’s feeling a bit conflicted about recent events.

[drabble]

Joe calls Hook whenever Dynamite is on. He talks him through what’s going on since Hook’s eyesight is still horrible after the fireball, and it puts Hook at ease at least.

Blood and Guts happens. Suzuki loses, but Joe tells him that Jericho is bleeding just from chops alone, so that lifts Hook’s spirits, at least a little bit.

Then, Joe gets loud- “Holy shit, Shibata’s there. He’s going after Jericho!”

“What? He’s cleared?”

“Oh, yeah- oh, he scared them off so easily!” Joe laughs. “Hell yeah! Good for Shibata.”

Hook should be happy for Shibata. He should be cheering alongside Joe for his friend. But he gets this bad taste in his mouth. Shibata didn’t tell them he was cleared- or at least, he didn’t tell Hook he was cleared. Joe seemed to be in on it. Did he not want Hook to know? Clearly he’s going after the FTW belt. Hook should be happy there’s a chance of getting it off of Jericho, but the thing is- that’s his belt. He should be the one going after it. If Jericho hadn’t thrown a stupid fireball-

“Hook?” Joe says from over the phone. “You got really quiet there, buddy. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Hook breathes out. “Yeah. Sorry. Uh, what’s happening now?”

“Looks like it’s Britt versus Shida.”

Hook sits back with a sigh. His mind drifts back to before. If Shibata wins…Hook’s going to have to wrestle him. He doesn’t know if he can beat Shibata. He doesn’t even know if it’s because he’s just not as good as Shibata, or that Shibata has become close enough to him that it’ll hinder his match. He’ll still be friends with Shibata when they wrestle, right? It’s not going to be like with Jack. It’s not going to turn into what happened with him and Jack.

“Main event is starting,” Joe tells him. It’s what everyone’s been waiting for, so Hook shakes the bad thoughts away to focus for the rest of the show.

(He does feel better by the end of the show when Joe gleefully tells him Jack was almost lit on fire. Hook tells Joe if he were Darby, he would’ve done it regardless of the bell. It earns him a fit of laughter from Joe, and Hook smiles, forgetting his worries about Shibata momentarily.)

After the show, they chat for a little while longer. “I’m happy for Shibata, though. Good for him, going out there for us,” Joe says.

Hook swallows hard. “Did you know he was cleared?”

“Yeah, sort of. Heard he showed up on Ring of Honor.”

“So he didn’t tell you?”

“Nope. Shibata’s weird like that. He’ll tell me about the freaking food he eats, but won’t tell me he’s healed to wrestle again.”

That helps with Hook’s anxiety immensely, and he sighs louder than he meant to.

“What, was that bothering you?”

Shit. Hook groans. “No, but- I mean, what if he wins? Against Jericho? What does that mean for me?”

Joe sighs. “God, you young people caring about shit that doesn’t matter. Shibata’s your friend. I bet you he’s out there so he can get it back to you at some point. You know better than that. If it takes you a hundred tries before getting it off of him, then so be it. Don’t let that stupid shit get to your head, he cares about you. And you care about him, right?”

Hook nods, then clears his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good. That’s all that matters, then. Be happy for him, yeah?”

“I am. Trust me, I am. I want that thing off of Jericho as soon as possible.”

“Me and you both, Hook,” Joe sighs. “Me and you both.”

[dreamersbcll]

You know what would be cool? Imagine if mybe christina was worse than we thought, and before the all scream 2022 events, something happens and tara calls sam and then she takes her away from that house.

“SOS”

——————————————————————————-

“Long night?”

Sam looked up from scrubbing the grill, grinning at her coworker Zach.

Putting the grill brush down, she went to the hand wash station to clean her hands. “Well, we just worked two clopen shifts in a row and are starting our third. Also, I’m running solely on red bull and wafers, so you tell me, smartass,”.

He just smiled back at her, tossing a towel her way. “Yet you’re still here for another day with me. Face it, Sam, you’re in love with me,” he teased, bumping her hip with his.

She shoved him back, laughing despite herself. “Yeah, and what would your boyfriend say about that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Let me ask,”.

Before she could retort, her phone started ringing in her pocket. It was the ringtone she had specifically for unknown callers. But this one felt different like her phone was burning her in her pocket.

Sam took it out, looking at the screen. It was indeed an unknown number, but the sequence of numbers made her stomach bottom out. It was the area code for Woodsboro. She thought she had gotten rid of all her ties to that place. Not.

“Uh… could you cover the window? I’ll be back in a second,” she asked, giving Zach puppy eyes.

He rolled his eyes but waved her off. “Joe catches you slacking, don’t bring me into it,”.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she muttered, heading out of the store.

Once outside, she answered the call, nervous to find who may be on the other end.

“Hello?” she asked, unsure of what was happening.

The second she had the voice, she knew she was in deep shit. She recognized that voice. It was the one that she had abandoned four years ago.

“Sam.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach immediately souring. She tried to stop her hands from shaking, but it was useless.

“Tara? Is that you? Are you okay? Where are you?” she frantically asked, nausea rising inside her.

Tara paused, her breathing heavy. Sam could hear that something was going on in the background. Yelling. Someone was screaming and breaking something. She could listen to Tara’s breaths becoming wheezy and a woman crying in Spanish. Christina.

Switching to Spanish, Sam spoke quietly, sensing her mother was on another rage fit. The last thing she needed to do was alert Christina of her baby sister’s hiding place.

“Mi cielo. ¿Qué está pasando? ¿Estás a salvo?”

(My sky. What’s going on? Are you safe?)

She could hear Tara whimper at the words and shift in her spot. If Sam listened carefully, she could hear her mother breaking something against the hardwood floors. It sounded like glass.

“Sammy. No sabía a quién más llamar. Necesito ayuda. Se ha vuelto loca. ¡Loca! Por favor, ven a casa, rápido,” her sister whispered, urgency laced in her tone.

(I didn’t know who to call. I need help. She’s gone crazy. Crazy! Please come home quickly)

Another crash echoed through the phone, and she heard a door slam and Tara screaming.

“¡Puta! ¡Te mataré por lo que has hecho!” her mother yelled, clearly slapping Tara.

(You whore! I will kill you for what you have done!)

Sam didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t do anything from where she was. She was helpless, listening to her mother beat her baby sister over the phone. All she could do was yell for Tara to fight and run! Run! Get out! Get out, baby, get out!

Finally, the phone ended the call, the ringing echoing throughout Sam’s ears. Her voice was hoarse from screaming, her ears echoing with the sounds of her sister being abused. She never thought she would hear her baby sister cry like that again, especially not through the phone.

Without a second thought, she pocketed her phone and made her way to her car, peeling away out of the parking lot.

——

Everything got hazy after the first punch.

The fucked-up part was that Tara was having a good day. She has aced her AP Biology exam and got an A- on her English paper. Plus, Amber had given her her favorite hoodie back. And the twins had invited her to go ice skating with them.

Naturally, nothing good in Tara's life could stay. She was destined to be punished. She knew that deep down, she was a glutton for punishment. How else would she know if she was alive if she hadn't been beaten down by something?

But she wasn’t expecting her mother to go off the rails so soon. They had such a good run in the last couple of weeks. Tara keeps a wide berth from Christina, and in return, her mother gets wasted in the backyard—a win-win.

Within the last day, something had snapped inside of her mother. She had been on the warpath more than usual, smashing bottles onto the floor and breaking random pieces of furniture. It was only a matter of time before Tara would be next.

She was hoping for more time. One more day. If she had made it one more day, she could’ve been out of the house and safe with the twins. But luck was never on her side.

The surprise punch to the jaw once she walked through the front door was shocking, but it kicked her into high gear. Dizzy and disoriented, she shoved her mother back, sprinting up the stairs. She slipped on a broken bottle, falling to her knees, hissing as glass embedded into her palms and knees. It didn’t matter, and she had to move.

Barricading into her closet, she got her phone out, trying to decide who to call. Her jaw aching and her vision blurry, she tried to wrack her brain for somebody. Anybody.

She decided on the long shot. Her mother was making her way upstairs, screaming in a messy mix of Spanish and English. It was now or never.

Dialing the one number she saved under Unknown, she prayed for a miracle.

Luckily her big sister picked up, and Tara blurted out that she needed help. For a moment, hope fluttered in her chest, hearing her big sister’s voice. Maybe, just maybe, this would work.

If only her mother didn’t hit her with that chair. She had no idea if Sam had heard her or if she was coming. All she knew was that she potentially dialed the last phone call she would ever make.

Once she felt her ribs crunch and her nose break, did she give into the darkness creeping behind her eyes. Maybe when she woke, this would all be over.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to wake up alive or dead. She just wanted the pain to stop. Whatever did that, she would take it mercifully.

——

The drive to Woodsboro took maybe an hour, hour and a half. Sam wasn’t ready to unpack why she only lived an hour away from her sister. She didn’t have time to blame herself when something was wrong.

Pulling into the lawn, she didn’t even bother to shut the car off. She threw her seatbelt off and tore across the property. Throwing open the door, she paused in the doorway, staring into the abyss.

It was strange. She wasn’t expecting everything to look the same. She would’ve thought that her absence would change everything. Yet the walls were empty of photographs, and the floor was still dirty from nights of sin.

The shrieks and yelling snapped her out of her trance, and Sam bolted up the stairs. The only light on upstairs was Tara's room, and that’s when she could hear the screaming.

“Sammy! Sammy, help! Help!” shrieked her baby sister above the noise of slapping and swearing.

Sam went to the room and saw her mother above her baby sister, hitting her with what looked like a trophy. Tara’s trophy. Second-grade spelling bee winner.

Her little sister was crumpled on the ground, with a bloody nose and a gash below her eye that stretched over her cheek. Tara looked dazed, her eyes unfocused and her hands shaking, trying to protect herself from the blows feebly.

Christina, on the other hand, looked about the same as the last time Sam had seen her. Long, dark stringy hair framed a gaunt face, eyes rimmed red, and a sneer so ugly that it made Sam cringe.

She sprung into action, tackling her mother against the wall. She pinned Christina there, one arm barred against her throat, the other wrestling the bloody trophy from her hand. Her mother’s eyes were wide in surprise, a snarl forming on her lips.

“So the prodigal daughter returns! ¡La hija de un asesino!” her mother sneered, choking a bit as Sam pressed harder against her throat.

(The murderer’s daughter!)

Sam finally got the trophy out, throwing it down on the ground. Tara whimpered from her crumpled state at the broken award, watching another childhood memory shatter. Sam didn’t fucking care. She had to end this.

Pressing her arm harder in the throat, she let her mother choke, her arms clawing at Sam’s to make her let go. But Sam wouldn’t budge. She grinned as her mother's eyes grew more panicked. She wanted to see the light die from her mother’s eyes; she wanted to feel the life leave her body. It would be the ending that she deserved.

But something nagged her to turn around and look at Tara. Look at her baby sister.

Giving in, Sam turned to look, ignoring the gasps of her mother. She looked down at her baby sister, taking in the little girl she had left before.

Tara looked up at her, her nose gushing blood, wheezing. Sam could make out a bruised ring appearing around Tara’s neck. A choke mark. She pressed harder into her mother’s throat, feeling the desperation set into her mother’s body.

Her baby sister just kept staring at Sam, her big brown eyes full of sadness, of tears that weren’t falling. Sam could feel shame prickle up her back, her face growing warm. Tara shook her head at Sam, silently pleading for her to let Christina go.

Even after all these years, Tara had some hypnotic grip on Sam. Her baby sister nodded at Sam, coughing a bit of blood up. Sam nodded back and let her mother crumpled to the floor, gasping.

In a heartbeat, Sam was on the floor, soothing her baby sister. She kissed Tara’s head and smoothed the hair out of her eyes. Tara cried in response, nails clinging onto Sam’s skin, sinking in. Sam let her hold on as she kept kissing her head and rocking her back and forth.

After a minute or two, Sam scooped Tara up, ignoring the whimpers of distress, silencing her. Tara cried out in pain but still curled into Sam’s embrace, her head tucked into her shoulder.

As Sam turned around to leave, she heard the raspy voice of her mother, forcing her to pause.

“Where are you going with her? She’s defective, you know. You’re not stupid, Sam- you’ve always been the stronger one,” she croaked out.

Sam shook her head, staring down at her mother. She didn’t succumb to the temptation to put Tara down and finish it for good. Instead, she stood ramrod straight, her eyes unforgiving, her hands unrelenting. Tara could sense the words about to come out, and she buried her face deeper into Sam’s chest.

“You never wanted either of us. I’m doing you a favor. I’m doing what I should’ve done in the first place,” she hissed back, staring daggers at her mother's broken body.

Tilting her head, Christina stared back in wonder. “And what would that be?”

“Leaving with Her. Just like I should’ve done,” Sam said.

Despite her mother’s pleas, and the broken bottles being thrown at the two, Sam marched on, cradling Tara tightly to her chest.

This was her redo. There would never be another one.

She wasn’t leaving without her girl this time around.

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[ELEVEN]

masterlist.

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Kenny had managed to regain control of his account roughly a day after it had been hacked. Quickly posting a message on his account after Twitter support had done their job and handed back access to him. The hacker was gone and the question of "what was the point of all that" weighed heavy on your mind.

"Why hack Kenny?" You wondered, thinking about possible information he may have. Kenny didn't use the account too often, usually using it only for learning about various pop star drama or just to like and retweet things, he rarely used it to give updates on himself, in fact most updates were about you if anything.

If it was information on you that the hacker wanted, you were sure it would've just been easier to hack your account, you had changed all your passwords though immediately after Kenny being hacked and since the password was so long you ended up writing it down on your notebook to not forget until you actually remembered it.

Shaking your head and throwing yourself back into the topic at hand with the band; what venue is the best option for the concert in South Park.

"I'm telling you! The one they just remodeled is going to be by far the best venue for us! It's bigger and it has the space we need." Nichole expresses with enthusiasm.

"I don't know, I mean sure the space is nice but are we really going to draw that big of a crowd?" asked Stan.

"Stan. Bro. You saw the fans on twitter AND instagram when we announced free concert in South Park, you didn't stop to think that maybe the word, oh I don't know, FREE? causes people to most likely show up in gigantic numbers?" Clyde raises his voice, giving you a look of "Is this guy for real right now?".

Stan sighs and looks over at Kyle. Kyle had been surprisingly silent through most this conversation much like yourself, except he was glued attentively to his phone.

"Kyle?" Stan asks, eyebrow raised.

"..Huh? Ha, oh what?" Kyle looks up to see four pair of eyes looking at him with a range of different emotions.

He sets his phone down and sighs, "Sorry guys, I've just had a rough last day."

"All good! No worries." You chirp and Kyle gives you a thankful smile in return.

"Right, sorry, I was thinking we just do an open venue? You know the one right kinda in the center of town?" Kyle rhetorically asks, "It's open and that way we don't have to cap a number limit of how many guests."

After a few murmurs of agreement and nods from everyone else, Stan pulls up Kyle's laptop to reach out to the venue owners, whereas Kyle goes back on his phone. You take a peek as he turns it on, he opens the imessaging app and suddenly you notice the stress that piles on top of Kyle.

"Kyle?" You gently ask

He quickly turns his phone off and looks at you, "What's up Y/n?"

"You doing okay?"

"Uh, yeah! Never better." He gives you that awkward white man tight closed smile and you return his smile with a look that tells him you don't believe him.

He sighs and turns his phone back on, showing you the messages he's been receiving as well as his responses.

You frown in confusion and hand his phone back to him, "Who is this?"

"No clue, I have genuinely no clue at who this could be. I've tried calling the number as you read, and it keeps referring me to this pizzeria place, I asked what's with the prank texts and they informed it the number is a landline phone and it can't text." Kyle sighs in annoyance.

You take a peak at the others, who are still trying to figure out how to write a business email to the venue owners. Kyle turns his phone off again and shrugs, "You know I think I'm just going to have to ignore it.

He gets up and heads over to the others, grabbing his laptop gently from Stan's grasp and taking over the business email writing. You stare at him for a little while longer, taking note of the dark eye bags and sunken eyes that he's seemed to have suddenly.

You're not sure what's about to happen, but the recent events that have started going on in your life all points to a negative direction and you're not sure when it'll, but you feel, no, you know, that the impending doom about to burst.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @4xbei77 @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[ashbeneviento]

Taking A Break:

Mia Winters x Miranda

Tags: AU (with canon game lore sprikled in), Cheating, Miranda is the boss, Ethan is a bad husband, Kissing, sexual content implied

I needed more MamaMia content so I made some, I didn’t plan on continuing this but I might. No beta reader, sorry for any grammatical mistakes! Thanks for reading <3

***

Mia sat at her desk in complete silence. Well, almost complete silence. Her pen clicked against the wood in frustration. She was supposed to be focusing on the results of her study, she was supposed to be home an hour ago.

However, with the events that happened earlier in her shift she found it hard to focus, the memory of it all still burning in the back of her mind with confusion, excitement, and worst of all…guilt.

Mia groaned and dropped the pen from her fingers and pushed her face into her hands.

**Earlier**

It was lunch break and Mia spent most of it outside of the building yelling yet again into the phone at her husband. Ever since they were relocated Ethan has been insufferable. Always demanding her to give every detail about the research she was doing (even though it was against policy). Always asking if she was okay a hundred times a day until her yes’s turned into no’s. He treated her like a damsel in distress, always needing to be saved from a force that no longer existed.

Mia had been grateful for him saving her life, that wasn’t up for debate. But now, even years after the incident in Louisiana he still continued to bring it up. Mia started to wonder if he actually even cared about her still, or that he was just using it as a form of control over her. She was not a damsel in distress for fucks sake.

“I told you I can’t tell you anything”

“Yes..that includes the staffs spouses..”

“Ethan.. you’re not- you’re not listening to me!”

“Fine. Believe what you want. I’m going to try and enjoy the rest of my fucking break. Bye”

With a hard tap against the end call button she groaned in anger. Fighting the urge to chuck her phone against concrete, she shoved the phone back into her pocket unaware that she wasn’t alone out here.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Winters?”

The voice startled Mia as she whipped her head around towards who the voice belonged to.

Her boss.

The woman’s cold glare was nothing short of unerving. Miranda always looked like a snake ready to strike a puny mouse.

“Uh.. yeah. I guess.. I’m sorry if I was causing a scene” Mia sighed as she looked away.

Miranda’s heels clacked as she approached closer, stopping to stand right next to her.

Mia didn’t know exactly why Miranda made her so uncomfortable, but judging by the way her colleagues cowered every second the blonde was around assured she wasn’t alone. And prehaps Miranda was just a power tripping bitch of a person. Mia didn’t dare to say that to anyone else, though.

“I could hear you from my office..” Miranda replies. Monotone and not impressed, flicking her lighter and raising it to the cigarette that was between her teeth.

Mia couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment. If Miranda could hear her from outside that meant so did many others.

Even still, she didn’t know why this spot with her boss would give her the courage to open her mouth and confess every little thing she was pissed off with Ethan for.

Miranda watched as she ranted. Her cold demeanor never breaking eye contact as the brunette spoke.

Every once and a while she would take a drag and exhale slowly, seemingly uninterested until Mia mentioned something a little more personal than she intended.

“…I can’t even have sex with him. There’s no intimacy. I practically have to beg for him to cuddle. Let alone take me to bed..” Mia coughs when she lets it slip. She doesn’t see the small smirk tugging at the blondes mouth, facing away in embarrassment for bringing the topic up to her boss.

“Sorry. I think I just needed to vent, I.. feel better now. I’m going to get lunch” Mia says quickly after a moment of akward silence, turning away towards the door before a surprisingly strong hand pulls at her arm.

“Don’t tell me you’re eating that bland shit from the cafeteria again” Miranda scoffs, her nose scrunched up in obvious disgust.

Mia can only stare back and shrug.

“I forgot to pack” she replies plainly. She couldn’t help herself when she thought of how Miranda’s han-…

Miranda rolls her eyes and stomps the butt of her cigarette with her heel, effectively pulling Mia away from her wandering mind.

“Are you in a hurry?” Miranda asks as she opens the door for herself, Mia promptly following after her.

“I have half an hour left so.. not really. Why?”

“I packed way too much for the day and I hate leftovers” The blonde answers over her shoulder and heads to her office. It earned them a few confused faces from coworkers as they watched the two women enter and shut the door behind them.

“I thought you were Romanian?” Mia asks as she savors the carbonara in her mouth.

Miranda smirks, twirling a fork into her own bowl across the desk.

“I am. A friend made this for me, she sends me a recipe every now and again.. but I never cook the noodles right” She answers and it makes Mia wonder who this friend of hers was. Or that it was possible for the harsh and bitter woman to even have friends at all…

“Mm..” is all she could respond with.

When the two of them were done eating the office shifted into an uncomfortable silence. Should she leave? Stay? She did have 15 minutes left…

“So Mrs. Winters..” Miranda pauses, “Has this lack of intimacy with your husband cause you to fall behind on work?”

Mia swallows at her boldness to ask such a personal question, but she guesses it’s only fair as she brought it up to begin with.

“Um.. Not really. I’m actually quite ahead on my research for this quarter” Mia answers, and Miranda only hums in response.

“I catch myself staying over just to avoid going home to him sometimes. So no, No distractions. Just irritation I guess..”

Mia looks down at her hands in her lap and rubs her fingers together nervously.

She couldn’t understand why Miranda even cared. Or why she felt comfortable enough to tell her these things for that matter.

They had never been close. That was as expected.. but Mia also never caught the way the blonde looked at her either.

When Mia first came to work for the company, Miranda relished in the fact that she already knew everything about Mrs. Winters and her annoying husband, Ethan. That pest ruined years of her work and neither of them were the wiser. She played her cards right, calculated and precise as Miranda always was to bring Mia here.

What started off as an act for revenge turned into something much… different, for the goddess. She often caught herself staring at Mia from afar taking in her human beauty. It shocked Miranda, truly, to be so enamored at her stupid brown doe eyes and the softness of her face.

And her lips..

By the black god, her mouth was something Miranda could think about for hours…

She wanted to have the brunette all to herself.

Wanted to hurt Ethan by corrupting his sweet, lovely wife by putting that mouth to a better use.

“So.. uh. Thank you, again.. for lunch. I should probably head back to my office..” Mia said sheepishly, the silence getting to her.

Miranda stood from her chair and leaned over the desk, pushing Mia’s chin up with a slender finger.

Mia couldn’t help but gasp when their faces were so close together. And that’s when she realized the blondes eyes weren’t looking into her own.. but on her lips.

“Mira-..” a soft whisper was cut off by their lips touching.

Mia wanted to pull away.

She tried convincing herself this was all a dream. She fell asleep at her desk or something.

She was married.

But oh..how sweet did Miranda’s mouth taste when her tongue slipped between her lips.

Against better judgement Mia kissed her back, feeling those slender fingers snake into her hair as they gasped and fought for air.

This is wrong.. this is so very wrong!

Mia’s conscience screamed in her head, but she was too busy enjoying it to hear it.

Well, was enjoying it until Miranda pulled away, leaving her in a state of bliss and confusion in the chair.

“Miranda.. I..what was that?? I’m.. you’re my boss..” Mia stuttered, Making Miranda smirk as she towered over her.

“And married” Miranda teases, cocking her head to the side.

“Yet you seemed to enjoy it regardless, no?”

Mia sat dumbfounded, her mouth agape and lower lip quivering. The stress of everything else and now this…it was too much, and so she stood up and left.

She didn’t even excuse herself as she stomped back to her office, slamming the door shut in frustration.

***(back to now)***

Mia couldn’t go home to Ethan. At least not now despite working over again, so she decided to head to the nearest bar while she packed her things for the night.

A place where neither Ethan or Miranda would be, someplace she could mull over what to do next without outside forces choosing for her.

Luckily it wasn’t packed as she sat, drink in hand while watching some stupid game on the screen above.

A glass is placed on the space next to her, paying it no mind until a familar voice whispers in her ear.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mrs. Winters…”

[pocket-lad]

CH 14- Epilogue

Prev ● Masterpost

Adelaide froze. She didn’t know what to do. Ellie was there! Like right there! She’d seen Ian speak on the phone a number of times, and she didn’t think it would be that hard. But in that moment, her head emptied of every word she ever knew.

“Hello?” Ellie repeated.

If she didn't say something soon, Ellie would hang up.

Adelaide hovered over the end of the phone she was supposed to speak into. “Uh, hi! Hi, yes, hello, hi…Ellie? Can you hear me?”

“Yes?” Ellie sounded confused and a little irritated.

“It’s um…it’s Adelaide.”

“...Adelaide? Oh my goodness, hi! Um…what’s…is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no, everything is okay.”

There was a long pause. Adelaide didn’t think this far ahead. She was surprised they even made it to this point.

“What have you been up to?” Ellie prompted when Adelaide didn’t elaborate.

Adelaide admired Beans’ ability to hold a conversation. She didn’t talk to people ever until Ian, and for a long time, she only said what was necessary to him. Only recently did she start having conversations about things that didn’t necessarily matter. But Beans did that all the time.

“Uh, dinosaurs, hunters, running and screaming, the usual.”

“Were you on Isla Sorna?”

Adelaide’s jaw dropped. They just aired the news on TV. Hell, they were on the island less than twelve hours ago. “Yeah… Wow, news spreads fast in the human world,” she said.

“I can’t believe you guys would head back there.”

“Well, Ian’s girlfriend went so he had to rescue her, and I wasn’t going to let him go without me, so…Really, we were only supposed to be there for a couple minutes. In and out. Obviously that didn’t happen,” Adelaide chuckled.

“Girlfriend?!” Ellie asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I know, right? But she’s cool. I like her.” Adelaide glanced at Sarah, who was still fast asleep.

“Well, I’m glad…You wouldn’t be up to talking about the island, would you?” Ellie couldn’t keep the curiosity at bay, but she also knew she herself was in no position to be discussing any of what happened in Jurassic Park during the months following their trip. It was too much.

“Sure?” Adelaide was currently numb to all of the events. Maybe later she’d freak out, but if she could talk about it now, she should. She also didn’t mind talking on the phone. In fact, it was infinitely easier than talking to Beans in person. There was no fear of offending them or getting snatched up, and if things went sideways, she could just hang up (if she could figure out how).

Ellie asked question after question, and Adelaide answered them to the best of her ability. She could tell Ellie wanted to know about the makeup of the island and the flora and fauna, but she kept her questions as broad and accessible as possible, since Adelaide couldn’t really speak to the science side of things.

“So…what are you up to?” Adelaide asked.

“Well, I’m trying to write a book, but it’s going a lot slower than I imagined,” Ellie huffed.

“Woah! Is it, um…is it on…”

“No, it’s not about Jurassic Park. It’s actually about soil.”

“Oh…Neat.”

Ellie laughed. She didn’t expect anyone else to be that interested in soil. Adelaide’s reaction was the same reaction she got from most people.

Suddenly, a shadow caught Adelaide’s eye, accompanied by a shuffling sound. She whipped her head toward the sound but didn’t see anything.

“Ellie, I gotta go,” she said distractedly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…fine. I’ll call you back.”

“Okay-”

Adelaide didn’t know how to hang up, so she just walked away. She took out her hook and slid down her thread, going through the motions but minding her hand. She kept her eyes trained on the giants’ legs hanging over the edge of the couch as she did so, just in case.

Now that Adelaide was on the ground, she didn’t know how to proceed, but if it was a predator, it needed to be taken care of. She didn’t know how long they’d be staying here, but she wanted to spend absolutely zero time with a pest of any kind. It had to be killed.

But now what? She didn’t see what direction it went in. It was at least safe to assume the kitchen would be a good place to start. If animals and bugs weren’t inside for warmth, they were inside for food.

Still sticking close to the walls, Adelaide withdrew her knife and jogged in that direction until the carpet changed to tile.

Clink.

Adelaide angled herself toward the sound, and what she saw made her drop her knife. Never in a million years would she have guessed this. Never in a million years would she have hoped for this. But despite the complete and utter improbability of the situation, Adelaide found herself looking dead in the eyes of another borrower.

[cant-get-enough-btr-forever]

"Big Time Battle of the Bands", Chapter 13: Big Time No-Show

At last, Saturday night rolled around. The concert crowd was buzzing and bustling in Palmwoods Park. Some waited in their seats, some ordered goodies at the concession stands, others gossiped in stray clusters. There was a clear excitement in the air—eager anticipation of the events to come.

In a giant tent behind the stage, the activity was matched by the wardrobe crew, craft service crew, and audio crew. Gustavo had rounded up his band for a "pep" talk.

"Okay, dogs, tonight is the night!" he said, pacing in front of the boys. Logan and James stood at opposite ends. They glanced at each other and scowled slightly.

Gustavo went down the line, starting with James. "James. Remember, this is for the Palmwoods. It is not all about you." he barked, pointing a finger to get his point across. "And if I see any of your bandana freaks onstage, mark my words: You will be out of the band." James nervously nodded once.

Next was Kendall. "Kendall. I'm counting on you to keep your littermates in check." Kendall just smirked as he nodded.

Gustavo faced Carlos. "Carlos. Do not go nuts with the concession snacks tonight. No one paid money to see you blow chunks all over the stage." He narrowed his eyes. "And for the last time, no helmets during concerts!"

Carlos tugged off the little black helmet, pouting. As soon as Gustavo had turned away, he grinned and pulled a jumbo corndog out of it.

And finally, Logan. "Logan. I don't know what's been going on with you and James, but CUT IT OUT!" he yelled, startling the deadpan expression off Logan’s face.

Logan and James looked at each other again. They were still glaring, but not as intensely.

"Where the heck is that slimeball Hawk?! He should've been here by now." Gustavo growled.

🎵You're lookin' for a boyfriend, I see that🎵

🎵Give me time, you know I'm gonna be that🎵

Kelly and the boys looked around, confused.

Gustavo cleared his throat. "Uh, 'scuse me." He yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. "Yeah?" he grunted into the speaker.

Several seconds passed. "Yeah, he's...here." he said, plainly discomposed. He pulled the phone away and offered it to a concerned James. "It, uh, it's for you."

James held the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, James?"

James' eyes widened. "Jessica? What are—what—"

"Could you put it on speaker? We've got something to tell all of you guys." Jessica quickly explained.

"Uh—y-yeah, hold on..." He punched a button and held the cell in front of him, motioning for everyone else to gather around. "Okay...what's going on?"

"Yeah, hey, Chloe here. Um, you guys should just do the show yourselves. We're...not gonna be able to make it." Chloe's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"But what about the Palmwoods?!" Kendall gasped, horrified.

Jessica sucked in a shaky breath. "You were right about Hawk, after all."

Cross My Heart looked over at the locked silver door. They were calling from Hawk's cell, which they'd swiped from the duffel bag sitting near the console.

Mikee hurriedly elaborated, "He threatened us with these big scary dudes. Now he's locked us in the shiny room with a million little buttons and a big glass window."

"Control room," whispered Elena.

Mikee nodded. "Oh, yeah, right. The dude's a psycho, guys!"

"And he won't let us perform. He's taking us somewhere else to open for another concert." Chloe finished, wringing her hands.

All four boys groaned. Kelly gasped. Gustavo simply emitted a resigned sigh.

"Well, dogs, looks like this is officially your show now. Get out there and knock 'em dead!"

The boys shared a look. "You know what? No." Kendall stated firmly. "We can't just let Hawk manipulate the girls like this, Gustavo."

"Yeah, and we're not gonna perform without them. The Palmwoods is their home, too. They deserve the chance to save it." said Logan.

"And if they don't show up, they'll be known forever as the Palmwoods' enemies. We can't let that happen!" Carlos added.

"Just let us do something!" James pleaded.

Gustavo massaged his throbbing temples as this barrage of reasoning attacked him. His mind worked furiously for several moments. Finally, after drawing a long breath, he went into Chief Mode.

"The crowd. Kelly, we’ve gotta stall the crowd." Gustavo said as calmly as he could.

“Right.” A pause. “W-wait, how?” Kelly asked anxiously.

“I don’t know!” he blustered. “And dogs. You need to whip up one of your stupid, harebrained schemes and save the other half of this show. I don’t care what you do, but don’t let Hawk win. Got it?”

They nodded. "Got it."

Gustavo stalked off. Kelly scrutinized them for a moment before following him.

Kendall turned back to the phone. "Guys, stay cool. We’re gonna come around the back and get you." He handed the phone to Logan. "Logan, help them pick the lock." he instructed seriously.

Logan paled. "Uh, g-gotcha." he stuttered, taking the phone.

Kendall ran a hand through his bangs, his brain in overdrive. "Alright. Okay, okay, uh...we need to get them here before seven."

“Mm-hmm, yeah, and how are we gonna do that, huh?!” blathered James, who was breaking into a sweat. “We don’t have a car!”

“I’ll think of something, okay?!” Kendall insisted.

Carlos snapped his fingers. "Ooh, I’ve got it!"

......

A limo pulled up to the entrance of Hawk Records. Hawk was impatiently waiting for it. The driver was one of Hawk's henchmen.

As soon as the man stepped out, Hawk growled at him in frustration. "Idiot, I told you to return at 6 p.m. sharp! No car wash takes that long!" he rebuked, striding towards the limo. “And don’t tell me you splurged on the hot wax!”

In Hawk Record's ground floor studio, Elena carefully picked at the door’s lock. Propped next to her was Hawk's cell, which was still on speakerphone.

"Okay, Elena," Logan commanded, rubbing his slick palms together. "Put tension on the first bobby pin and begin picking back and forth with the second bobby pin. Just—just keep even pressure on it. You need to be pushing up inside the lock—"

"Logan!" Elena interrupted. "I think it’s getting close...maybe." She hung her head and sighed.

Chloe laid a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got this, Elena. Trust me.”

Elena closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and shifted the pins one more time.

Click!

She gasped. "It worked!" The others quietly cheered and patted her back. Logan and Carlos released the breaths they'd been holding.

She smiled and handed the pins to Jessica. "Thanks for pitching in.”

Jessica shrugged as she stuffed the pins back into her updo. "Hey, some things are worth ruining my hair for.”

The girls froze as they heard muffled yelling outside. Elena clumsily dropped the phone back into the duffel bag.

“Kendall said they would meet us around back. Head for the back door. Come on!” Chloe beckoned to them as she whisked out of the studio. They noiselessly sprinted down the hall and halted in front of the back door.

As soon as they’d slipped out into the cool night air, they noticed a shadowy figure, about half a mile away. They gave a collective gasp: Kendall and James. Kendall was rounding a corner on the black motorcycle, which now had two sidecars. James sat tight in one of them. Kendall fiercely gripped the handlebars; James clutched the edge of the car.

The guys were all smiles as the bike rumbled up. “You rang?” Kendall smirked. James tossed a helmet to each girl.

“Nice timing, boys.” Jessica remarked as she swiftly put on her gear.

“And nice ride!” Mikee added, grinning admiringly.

“Snowmobiles give you a lot of practice up in Minnesota.” Kendall shrugged modestly.

“Hurry, guys! Before Hawk realizes we flew the coop.” Chloe told her bandmates, fumbling the snap under her chin. Elena and Mikee scrambled into the empty sidecar, Jessica slid in beside James, and Chloe took her place behind Kendall. She flashed a grin at him as she linked her arms under his shoulders. His face crimsoned a bit, but he smiled back.

“Pedal to the metal, Kendall!" James cried.

Kendall shouted back, "You got it!" The motorcycle's engine thundered as he gave the throttle a hard twist.

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link Nightwing and Flamebird

Aggggggghhhhhh this is the prompt i was so excited for!!! its my favorite one out of all of them!!

Summary: Its a masquerade ball and Jon is ready...if only he could find who he was supposed to be matching with.

i.e. damian and jon went matching to the gala but damian failed to mention who they were going as and they dance and its really cute.

A/N:

so, just a disclaimer, even tho i did do my reseach on the flamebird and nightwing thing and obviously ive read a shit ton of fics thta deal with this, im shortening it incredibly and switching up some things bc i have to fit it in the context its used for in this story   anyways this is the prompt i was most excited for bc yassss masqurade ball and i almost made it a royalty one but at the last minute did this lol

If anyone would have asked Jon, he would tell them that everything that happened that night was completely Damian’s doing. 

It started off simple enough, when the Kents had gotten an invite to the annual Wayne gala. He hadn't thought much of it, they were invited every year, his parents called to cover the event by the Planet. 

Jon had completely forgotten about it until a week before, when his brother waltzed in one night and asked him what he was going to be for the masquerade ball.

“W-What?” He’d sputtered.

“Yeah, you know the ball Tim’s family puts on? We’re going as demons and angels.” Kon had said, laying in the air with his hands behind his head in a resting position.

“They didn’t tell me that!” Jon whipped out his phone and began spamming Damian with questions until his phone started ringing.

“ Honestly, corncob, must you do this now?”

The familiar annoyed tone drawled through the phone speaker.

“Uh, yeah! What the actual heck am I supposed to go as?”

The two boys could hear the eye roll through the phone, followed by the usual “tt '' of disappointment. 

“ Calm yourself Jonathan, if it worries you so much, you can simply go matching with me. I’ll send something over in your measurements tomorrow, assuming they’re still the same from a few months ago .”

“Fine. What are we going to be?”

“ I think I'll let that be a surprise. I’ll see you next week, Jon.”

The phone clicked, signaling the end of the call. 

“You see, your boyfriend has your back.” 

Kon ruffled his hair, ignoring the angry screeches of “ He’s not my boyfriend, Connor!! You know what he is? He's a flaming piece of sherbet!”

“Still can’t swear.” He chuckled, zooming out the window. 

The fact that Damian wouldn't tell him didnt stop the flow of guesses coming from the farmboy.

He pulled the worst guesses after a while, disappointed when even the best ones had been vetoed. The sun and moon one had come close, Damian had nearly smiled when he said it so that was close at least.

When the night of the gala came, he stepped into his room only to be greeted by an intricate box tied with a ribbon on his bed.

Opening it, he found a black suit, flames running up to his elbow from the cuffs, the suit otherwise black but illuminated by the colors of the sleeves. 

The mask was built up with intricate patterns of gold, and when he put it on, it gave the picture of wearing fire itself. 

Gasping, he stumbled a little, pulling it off before placing it delicately back in the box. As he took the suit out to put on after a shower, he noticed a paper floating out from under it. He snatched it midair and noticed Damian’s elegant script.

“ You have your half, now you will have to come find me. No powers, by the way.”

Of course he couldn't just tell me what we were doing. This is fire, right? What's the opposite of fire?

He dressed, finding in pleasant surprise that the coattails of the jacket had the same flames his cuffs did, cut in an odd jagged pattern. As he spun in the mirror, they flared out, almost resembling…dragon wings?

He picked up the mask again, noticing the way it curved down on his face, resembling a snout.

An idea began to form, it was if he had all the pieces of a puzzle but couldn't yet fit them together.

His parents had insisted on pictures, marveling at the suit and mask. 

“Damian must have designed this himself. It has his mark of dramatics.” Lois traced the fire on the sleeve.

“What is he going as?” Clark asked as they got into the car that had gone to pick them up.

“He hasn't told me. I’m supposed to guess.” Jon rolled his eyes, the concept stupid to him.

Per usual, they were swarmed like celebrities themselves exiting the car, Lois and Clark mixing into the crowd as Jon stood alone at the top of the ballroom's large staircase, scanning the room of masks.

He caught Kon and Tim in the corner, both dressed in matching suits of deep red and soft white. 

Dick had a redhead on his arm, as usual(choose your ship), matching sun and moon. Jason was hidden away by the refreshments, Duke following behind him. Steph and Cass were out on the dance floor, with coordinated dresses like the queens they were. 

Tired, he gravitated towards the refreshments and fought the urge to run a hand through his slicked curls.

As he looked up, his gaze landed on a man there, sipping from a glass of champagne with an amused smirk on his face. 

His suit was a deep navy, almost black, with a thick light blue stripe making up the design. The coattails were a familiar dragon wing shape. It suddenly clicked in his mind who they were supposed to be, and without a second thought, he strode over and offered the shorter man his hand. 

“Care to dance?”

Damian’s green eyes twinkled at him as he set down his flute to take his hand. 

“Took you long enough.”

They swept out onto the dance floor, brushing by Steph and Cass, who winked at them and shot  thumbs up to Damian behind Jon’s back.

He huffed and turned back to Jon, the flaming colors of his mask making his eyes stand out like icy blue pools.

The song played on, and Jon leaned in to whisper. 

“Nightwing and Flamebird, huh?”

“Mhm. You were rather close with your sun and moon theory, and the fire and ice as well.”

They spun, transitioning into formal waltz.

“Never thought you’d go with an old kryptonian legend. They were partners, the best of the best. Soulmates. Flamebird kept Nightwing from falling too far into the dark, and nightwing vowed to be by his side forever.”

“Lovers.”

Jon nearly tripped over his own shoes. “What?”

“They were lovers, if I'm not mistaken.”

“Y-yeah, that too.” He grinned suddenly. “Dami, are you a romantic ?”

“No! The very thought is appalling, I would never stoop to such a level of meaningless gibberish.” 

Being the little shit he was, Jon listened to the skip in his c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶  best friend’s heart as he dipped him slightly, bringing his face closer. 

“I think you are.”

“So that’s the way you wanna play it, Kent?”

 Damian hitched a leg over his waist, doing a specific movement to the beat of the music and smirking at his blush. 

“Because you’re sure to lose.”

“We’ll see about that, bat boy.”

The world around them became blurry, the only thing in the room being the two of them and the rhythm of the music. 

One moved, and the other tried to top it. They wove it all together in a beautiful dance, daring each other with the way they moved, the sly grins and glints in their eyes the only words they needed.

The goal was to make each other as flustered as possible, and every gasp, blush, and breathy laugh was a prize. As the music began to slow, they spun out, back in, and into a low dip, panting heavily.

A flush of exhaustion brushed their cheeks, sweat beaded on their foreheads. For a moment, their surroundings had frozen, and there was just them. All the unspoken emotions, the words missed for years had somehow been spilled out in simple dance, and they were shook, the only thing snapping them out of it was the applause that sounded once they’d stopped dancing. 

Quickly they stumbled apart, smoothing their suits and giving a nervous bow as the gala goers clapped, having watched the whole exchange. 

Grabbing Damian’s hand, he led them through the crowd that had gathered to watch them, ending up in the hallway of the manor. 

Green eyes twinkled at him as he began trying to speak, stuttering out a long drawn confession speech he’d made somewhere around five years ago.

“For the love of- Get over here, Corncob.”

Damian tugged his shirt collar, reaching up on his toes to press his lips against the others.

The flush returned, more prominent than before. 

“I-ah…the feeling is mutual, then?” Jon squeaked, mentally slapping himself for such a stupid response. 

“Quite.” A pink color was dusting the caramel complexion of the shorter boy as well.

Grinning, he bent to place a kiss on the smaller boy’s cheek, taking his hand. “What do you say we get out of here, then?”

“I’d say yes.” 

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

for @super-sons-week-2023

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

I can't stop rereading the last Date Night scenario 🥺🖤 Perhaps indulge me for another.

The same spoiled and pampered F!S/O with Black Mask. This time spending Valentine's indoors with him at their penthouse drinking wine or whatnot ... but his pesky phone keeps ringing so he takes it. She massages him, and again S/O is a bit mischievous.

It's a bit more romantic and with some spice to it.

"Annoying Ringtone" Black Mask x F!S/O (Valentine's Event 2024)

Of course! Sometimes when your partner has such a demanding job, you have to uh. Take things into your own hands. This is the final ask for the (now over) Valentine's Day Event! Had fun this year, can't wait for the next <3

TW: Dubious consent/Tipsy tomfoolery (both partners have been drinking before sexual acts took place), NSFW, oral, some rough play

After the last little "incident" on Valentine's Day and Roman showing off your panties to some unsuspecting waiter...

You didn't fight him on staying inside this year. It made you hot alright- in both senses of the word and he knew it. As much as he loved to spoil you, he absolutely still felt the need to establish himself.

Tonight, however, was fairly relaxed. Both of you in more casual attire, take-out and a fine bottle of wine. You'd already watched a movie and now were just hanging out, chatting about your lives. He knew most of your life already. He made it his business to know your day to day. Some of it was security.  A lot of it was his own jealousy and trust issues. This was something you'd come to terms with in the relationship.

Yet he told you a lot of things that happened behind closed doors. Gossip and intrigue. Nothing in such explicit detail as to put you a precarious legal position later. It was nice to know his feelings unfiltered like this. There was a level of intimacy he didn't share with others when he was like this.

You'd expected where this would go- some light flirting that would end in a sweaty flushed night. You even had a little package for him to open with lingerie you'd put on. Dark red. But dammit, his phone wouldn't stop going off. On a personal note, you'd come to loathe his ringtone, a nondescript chirping that was just obnoxious enough to get attention from across the room if need be.

He groaned, "Shit, it might actually be important."

"It might..." You sighed, then teased, "Don't they know this is my time? I thought we all agreed on a 50/50 split." Of course you weren't going to actually be a brat about it. Work tends to take preference when you run your own criminal empire.

"Oh you get more than 50%, believe me," He laughed before taking the call, "Yeah? I fucking told you morons to handle it on your own. I'm busy tonight- ....Yeah? Shit. Okay, look-"

He goes to lean back into the couch as he speaks. A lot of it is technical, some things you understand others... it's like a different language. Slightly drunk and already missing the attentions of your partner, you find yourself standing behind him. Calculating.

When your hands slip just under his shirt to work into his shoulders, he groans slightly into the call. Not enough to quite be noticed. He moves just so you get more access to him, your thumbs working wonders before you lean down to kiss his neck. He fumbles with his words for a moment. Then excuses it by telling the person on the phone he'd had a drink. He gives you The Look.

The Look that says you'll be in trouble if you keep going.

You don't get it often. After all, you're his good girl and he likes to spoil you! Right now, however, there is chaos roaming along the corridors of your mind. Your hands come out of his shirt and try to reach as far down his abdomen as you can. Kissing into his neck before nipping. You can feel him tensing.

Clumsily, you made your way around to his side of the couch and got to work. First was unbuttoning his shirt and kissing along his chest. Gentle and soft over his various burn scars. The two of you had an understanding. Even after all this time they were red and blotchy in places he wasn't able to escape the fire that bonded his mask to his face.

His free hand was already unzipping his pants to stroke himself off. Heavy sighing as he tried to continue the conversation. There was no feasible way the goon on the other side of the phone didn't have an idea something was up. Flush cheeks and a sly grin and your hand moved over his before taking over.

Your lipstick left marks first on his skin and then stained the edges of his crisp white dress shirt. What was one more shirt he had to throw out? At least this time it wasn't blood. Besides, it was getting difficult for him to focus with the way your palm was smoothing pre-cum over his shaft.

"Fuck- Just- Just tell me what the damn problem is-" he shouted into the phone. There was that look again. Your tongue was already lapping at another bead of pre-cum. Teasing what would come next.

You barely had your mouth on the tip of his cock before he was "helping" you take more. Hand twisting in your hair. He was holding back. Somehow, you were sure of it. The steady pace, allowing you to adjust and keep up. If he didn't care, he'd have you take it all in one go. Certainly in another instance, you might not put it past him.

But it's Valentine's Day and he's definitely getting off on this. At most he presses a little faster, as he mutters in the phone about "needing to finish this." It's then he crooks the phone between his mask and shoulder. Freeing his other cramping hand. He cracked his fingers briefly Before you could even really wonder what he was planning, he pulled you hard off of him. Then his other hand went to jerk himself to completion- Directly cumming over your mouth and chin.

The phone drops to the couch for a moment as he loudly groans in the room. A blink. He's quickly picking the phone back up.

"Yeah. I'm good." He panted, "Do me a favor will ya? Handle it your fucking self."

And now he's looking down at you. He's spent and feeling a little too powerful.

All you can think to do is smile and lick his cum off your lips and wipe the rest away, "Sorry. I couldn't wait."

"I think we need to take this in the other room."

You were going to be so sore tomorrow but it will all have been worth it.