#after he was like it’s okay we’ll get you out of here

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 14 - Dirty Work

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: Death, use of weapons, little bit of torture, violence, military inaccuracies.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

You make it down the stairs last. Johnny came to wake after what felt like no time at all. You really need to get a good night's sleep soon. You have a feeling that won’t be happening though. When you make it to the dining room things feel different. Johnny is standing next to Gaz and Ghost looks almost like he’s sulking in the corner of the room. 

Price is leaning over the table looking at images of a compound. “We split into 2 teams, you three go round the back me and Ghost will go in the front.” He says before looking over at you. He frowns before standing up straight and crossing his arms. 

“The building should be running with the night staff. Al Qatala only, we’ll need to disable the alarms, you should be able to cut the power directly from a room at the back of the building.” Price says pointing at one of the photos. “After that make your way up to the top floor, that's where the main control room is, if Makarov is anywhere he’ll be there. If not, it's where we’ll find out where he is.” 

“Makarov will know we’re here is as soon as we take the place.” Johnny says. 

“That's why we have to act fast, as soon as we know where he is we move.” Price says.

“Unless he’s there.” Gaz says.

“He won’t be there.” you say. Price’s head snaps over to you. “I’ll be the pessimist.” You shrug. 

“We plan for the possibility he is there.” Price says.

“And the possibility he’s not.” Simon says. Looking at him now looming in the shadows. The person you saw in the bedroom just a few hours ago seems like a completely different person then the one hiding in the shadows right now. Ghost is a fitting name.

“Capture or kill?” Johnny asks, stepping forward. 

“Kill. He’s not getting away again.” Price says. Johnny likes that nodding at him and turning back to Kyle. You look round the room, they've been after this guy for a while. 

“Get ready, we’ll be leaving soon.” Price says, crossing his arms. Everyone starts to move and he looks over at you. “A word?” You swallow hard, nodding and walking round the table to him while everyone leaves the room. You’re nervous all of a sudden.

“Are you ready for this?” He asks quietly, bending down to speak to you closer. 

“Yes.” You say holding your ground. 

“It’s going to be dangerous, you could get hurt.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” 

“No. I just need to know you’re ready.” he asks, you look up in his eyes.

“I’m ready.” You nod. He smiles for a second and you move to walk past him. He grabs your arm tight. “You do anything to hurt them and I swear to God I'll put a bullet in your head myself.” You look back digging your eyes into him. Why is he saying this now? Does he know? You pull your arm out his grip. 

“You wouldn’t be taking me if you didn’t trust me.” You say. He smiles. 

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” 

…

There’s thunder in the distance, a chill in the air. You’re all laid on a hill looking down at the back of the compound, there are lights on but no personnel. 

“Soap, we’re in position. How’s it looking on your end?” Price’s voice calls in your ear. 

“All clear Cap, we’re ready to move in.” Soap replies. The comps still sound strangely formal to you. 

“Okay, keep coms open, let us know when you’ve cut the security.” Price says as you all get to your feet. 

“Copy.” Soap says. You have an AR again, you’re still not used to the bigger weapons. Price’s warning is still ringing loud in your head. Why did he choose to say that now. Does he know what happened between you all? He is the captain, maybe he does. You follow Gaz and Soap down the hill to the back door. Gaz's foot slams into the door and it swings open. Soap goes in first and you follow behind him, you’re almost good at this now following his movements cleaning rooms like you’ve done it a hundred times before. 

Soap opens a door to another room, it’s warm you follow him inside. It looks like a maintenance room. Gaz comes back and stands in the doorway as Soap walks over to a control panel. You watch as he opens what looks like a fuzebox, he takes wire cutters off his vest and get's to work.

“Price, security systems are offline.” Soap’s voice comes into your ears as he closes the box.

“Copy, we’re moving in. Make your way to the control room.” Price says. You follow Gaz who leads, Soap following behind you. You run into people on the way but Gaz takes them down, the smell of gunpowder and blood is just something you need to get used to. You make it to the next floor, Gaz calls out your location as you move through the building. 

Each floor you go through you find more people. Gaz and Soap take them down, they’re way more confident firing off at people compared to your hesitation. You all turn the corner and run into Price and Ghost. They stack up on the door, this is the last place you need to check, if Makarov is going to be here he’s behind the door. 

Price nods and Ghost kicks the door open, it all happens quickly, voices ring out, shots ring out too. There's a pained groan as everyone goes into the room. You go over to the computer in the room, as soon as you move the mouse you see how corrupted it is.

“The whole thing’s been wiped.” You say. You turn to see Ghost and Price pull the man to his feet and throw him down in a chair. The man is shouting in Arabic through gritted teeth. You turn to start looking through papers with Soap trying to find anything you can to help. 

“Where’s Makarov?” Price asks. 

“Go to hell!” He shouts in English. You turn to see Ghost tying him to the chair. 

“Where is Makarov?” Price asks again. The man spits blood out on the floor, you see the wound on his shoulder. 

“I’ll never say!” Price sighs and Ghosts fist meets his face. It’s all starting to feel a little deja vu. You stick to what you’re doing, looking through the papers for anything useful.

“This was dated today. What does it mean?” Soap asks handing you a piece of paper. 

“It’s a termination order. They’re storing something here, it’s in the garage. Whatever it is, is being picked up tomorrow then the post will be shut down.” You say turning to look over at Price and Ghost. 

“What’s being stored?” Price asks. 

“It doesn’t say.” You reply, putting the paper down on the table.

“Okay, the three of you go check the garages.” Price says. Gaz leaves the room first and you follow him back through the building. Now it feels weird walking back through this place and over bodies, there weren't that many Al Qatala and now you know why, they probably got sent home days ago. 

“I thought you guys were keeping an eye on this place? You didn’t see them moving anything into the garages?” You ask Kyle ahead of you.

“No, only people moving in and out.” He replies. When you make it outside it’s starting to rain and the thunder sounds closer. 

“When did the message say they were coming?” Soap asks as tests the handle on the door, it’s locked.

“Tomorrow morning, it didn't have time.” You say.

“Strange.” Soap says, you frown looking over at him as Gaz kicks the door. 

“Why? There could have been multiple messages, we only found one.” You say shrugging. 

“Why though? They did such a good job at wiping the computer, shredding everything else why leave that one message?” Soap says. A pit forms in your stomach. You turn to look at him. 

“Probably just didn’t have time before we got there.” You swallow it away looking back at Gaz who gives the door one last kick and it swings open. Maybe he’s right, maybe you’re being too blasé about the whole thing, they are more experienced with this kind of stuff. 

You watch Gaz walk in and you move to follow him. 

“Holy shit.” You say when you walk in the room, the wall separating the two garages has been knocked through, there’s 2 trucks both of the beds look full and have been covered with tarp. It’s the ones you recognise from the CCTV footage Gaz showed Farah, the ones that came over the border a few days ago. 

Gaz walks over to one and pulls the tarp off to reveal missiles. 

“Holy shit.” Soap says. His hand runs over the American flag stamped on the metal. 

“American? These are ULF missiles.” You say.

“Were.” Gaz corrects you. 

“Price, we’ve got trucks full of American missiles here.” Soap says over the radio. There’s no reply, Gaz looks over frowning. 

“Price. Come in Price.” Soap says, you’re all already moving to the door before Soap even has a reply. 

“Ghost, Price come in.” Soap calls as you all jog back over to the main building. Now the pit in your stomach is back. What if they’re hurt? Fuck what if they’re dead? Soap and Gaz keep trying to call them as you sprint up the steps.  

“Price!” Gaz shouts as he sprints into the room. You make it in just after him, Price is rubbing his head using the chair to get back to his feet. The place looks like even more of a mess than before, stuff thrown everywhere a lamp knocked off the desk flashing on the floor. There had clearly been a struggle. 

“Where's Ghost?” Soap asks. 

“He went after him.” Price says, Soap rushes out the door.

“Go with him.” Gaz says, you nod following Soap down the hall. You have no idea where he could be but you follow Soap back down to the ground floor. You both freeze for a moment. Soap putting his hand up to stop you. You’re listening for noise. Soap is scanning down the corridors looking out the windows. 

You hear a gunshot.

“This way!” Soap shouts and sprints down a hall. It’s dark and there are no lights on. When you turn a corner you see an open door. The rain is coming down hard now, the thunder sounds like it’s right on top of you. 

You make it out and see Ghost wrestling with the guy on the floor. Soap slowly walks towards him with his weapon trained on them. You follow what he’s doing, keeping your distance, they’re rolling around on the floor, you can’t tell who has the upper hand. The man is clearly putting up a good fight. 

Soap looks like he wants to intervene. You hear a rumbling sound and the almost deafening sound of the rain on the garage roof. You’re not sure what to do, Ghost manages to push the guy off him and they end up on their sides. You think that's it Soap steps up to them until you see the glint off a knife. You don’t get chance to call it out the sound of crashing metal distracts you, you turn to the source of the noise seeing a truck barreling towards you. 

“Move!” Soap shouts as he grabs your vest pulling you out its path. You both fall to the ground as the car drives past, it stops just before crashing into the garages. Soap is firing at it before he’s even stood up. You get to your feet and click the safety off your weapon as people jump out the car. You see the weapons in their hands, you don’t care about shooting them now. It’s kill or be killed. 

Your shots are not great, you can see some of them hitting the car instead of people, you’ve only ever shot an AR once in basic training. It comes back to you though surprisingly, like riding a bike. You see someone fall to the floor, you hear shouting behind you and turn quickly to see Price and Gaz coming out the building. 

You breathe a sigh of relief at least it’s not all just down to you and your shit aim. You fire off another shot, this one actually hits one of their shoulders and he falls to the ground. You look over to where Ghost was fighting that man they’re not there anymore. There can’t be many more guys left, the car only has 5 seats. 

The shots stop, you follow behind Soap as he moves closer to the car. Its engine is still running, the doors swung open. You make it over, Soap kicks the bodies of the people on the floor. You make it round to the other side of the truck and Soap leans in, turning the engine off.

“Where’s Ghost?” Price asks. You look around, maybe he got up and hid from the gunfight. You don’t see the guy he was wrestling with either. There’s another gunshot. You all turn, raising your weapons towards the source. Price and Gaz sprint off in the direction first and you follow behind them. 

You rush round the corner of the garages and see Ghost stood there over a body putting his pistol back in its holster. 

“You solid?” Price asks as Ghost turns. He nods, you see him reach down pulling a knife out the mans shoulder, he wipes it on the grass before putting it back in his vest.

“What do we do now?” Soap asks.

“They know we were here, they will have told Makarov already.” Price says. You can hear the frustration in his voice. 

“They probably still want those missiles though.” Gaz says. You shiver, the adrenaline has worn off and you’re drenched. There’s a crack of thunder and the rain seems to pick up even harder. 

“Gaz is right. Even if they managed to get word out to Makarov, it’s a big stash he has just sitting here. He wouldn't want us taking it back to the ULF.” Soap says. 

“Okay. We’ll stay here tonight, follow them in the morning.” Price says. “Chances are they lead us straight to Makarov.” 

“And if they don’t come?” You ask. 

“They’ll come. They’ll want those missiles.” Price says. He sounds sure about it as he walks past you back to the building. You look over and see Ghost reaching down to pick the body up off the floor. Price orders you all to clear the place up. In case they didn’t manage to get the word out to Makarov, you don’t want to spook whoever is coming in the morning. 

It feels kind of pointless but you follow the orders nonetheless. When you’re done you wish you could take a shower, dry your sodden clothes. You’re not that lucky though, everyone seems to fall into a routine when you’re back inside and somewhat dry. Ghost collects everyone's weapons, he takes his time taking them apart and cleaning them like he’s done it a million times. He probably has. 

Gaz and Soap end up on clothes drying duty laying everything on radiators and cranking the heat up in the building to an almost uncomfortable level. You decide to go back up to the main control room and search the place for anything useful. It’s a longshot but you would rather be doing something then nothing. 

You end up trying to organise things, for some reason it makes you feel better. Most of the paperwork is out of date or they have done their best to censor or destroy everything. It’s probably fruitless until you come across a locked drawer. Now you want to get it open. There has to be a way to brute force it open. You take your knife out and jam it between the draws. You kneel down on the floor angling the knife down then pulling it towards you. 

It doesn’t seem to be doing anything. You try again using more strength growing out, pulling until it hurts. You let go of the knife now stuck in the drawer huffing and letting out a breath. 

“What are you doing?” Price asks. You look up over the desk at him. 

“There’s a locked drawer here.” You say pointing even though you know he can’t see. He comes in walking round the desk to see what you’ve been up to. You hear him chuckle when he sees the knife sticking out the drawer. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small key.

“What you just had that this whole time.” You say tutting and reaching up to take it out his hand. 

“Ghost found it on his body.” He shrugs. You open the drawer pulling your knife out. You see the laptop straight away. You stand up, putting it on the desk and opening it. It turns on and there is no login. 

“What is it with all these people and never using passwords?” You say out loud. 

“Makes our job easier.” Price says. 

“Yeah also probably means there’s probably nothing important on it.” You say opening the documents folder. You sort them by most recent and open it. 

“What is it?” He asks as you scan over the document.

“Something about new orders. They’re moving, they know you’re after them.” You say as you continue reading. “They’re planning something too, something big.” 

“In Urzikstan?” He asks. You shake your head opening another document.

“It doesn’t say, this is a shipping manifest by the look of it. Sent from Moscow.” You close it down looking at the list. “There’s a lot here, it could take hours to sift through all this.”

“Can’t you do a keyword search or something?” He asks. 

“I don’t really know much about computers.” You sigh. 

“Gaz does, c’mon.” He says. You close the laptop lid, you expected him to have moved but he’s just stood there looking at you. You feel your heart pick up speed, he’s frowning at you for a second then his expression goes soft. 

“You did good today.” He says. You swallow the nerves.

“You don’t have to tell me that every time.” You say trying to lighten the mood. He hums, pressing his lips together and angling his body closer to you. 

“How was your time with Soap at the ULF base?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. He knows, he definitely knows and this is a test. Or maybe he doesn’t and he wants you to confess so he can send you back home. 

“Good.” You manage to say. You won’t say anything, you don’t want to get them into trouble. 

“I heard it went more than good.” He says in a low voice, his hand lands on your hip. You freeze in place, his touch is nice, his eyes are blue like Johnny’s, a deeper blue though. Maybe Johnny had already talked about what happened, he did say they were all together. You don’t know if you’re upset or relieved he maybe spoke about you. Price doesn’t seem mad, his eyes scanning round your face is body inching closer to you. 

“I’m only slightly annoyed,” he says. Great, here it comes, this is it, this is where he tells you to leave. You open your mouth ready for the string of apologies to come out. You don’t get a chance though as he leans down to kiss you. 

He takes your breath away, literally. His kiss is deep, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you close to him. You almost can’t believe it’s happening, his kiss is soft like Johnny, he’s slow too letting you control the speed. His beard tickles your face, you don’t mind though. Before you can help yourself your hand runs up his arm. 

He breaks from the kiss first, your heart is still pounding in your chest. He smiles at you. 

“You said you were annoyed.” You say swallowing, he chuckles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“Yeah, that MacTavish got to you first.” He smiles.

next

Banners by plum98

[crowsofdarkness]

Time: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner.-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, language, violence, and mentions of death.

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky could withstand anything, even time itself.

Authors Note: This series will have twenty one chapters, some of which will be short and quick, and takes place throughout the forties. I did my best to line up the days along with Captain America: The First Avenger. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr @starfly-nicole @ell0ra-br3kk3r @baw1066

Time Masterlist

March 4, 1942. 3:00 pm.

The bottom of my skirt blew in the wind as I rushed down the sidewalk, passing people by with a quick apology. My shift at the diner lasted longer than I would have liked and I was supposed to meet Steve at the theater twenty minutes ago. 

“Sorry!” I yelled while pushing through a young couple. 

Steve and I had planned on hanging out, the two of us, because even though he hadn't said anything I knew it was bothering him that Bucky and I hadn't seen him in awhile. I worried that he thought I had returned to my promise because I was late. 

Bucky was more than okay with Steve and me hanging out without him. We were friends before Bucky came into the picture, which is why he never got upset with us hanging out. There was also something Bucky had to do today, but he wouldn’t tell me what. 

The last few weeks he had been acting strange and I could tell he was hiding something from me. He wouldn’t allow me to be in his bedroom alone, afraid that I would find whatever he was keeping in there. 

Immediately my mind thought of a beautiful diamond that he could be hiding but I brushed away those thoughts. We had been dating for less than a year. There was no way he would propose. 

Right? 

“Y/N!” 

My feet came to a sudden halt when I saw the small man leaning against the brick of the building behind him. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I came straight from work,” I motioned to my work uniform. 

Steve waved me off. “It’s alright, the movie hasn’t even started yet.” 

Linking our arms together, I let Steve lead us into the theater while mentioning that he had already bought the tickets for us. It was a trash movie that we knew not many people would be here to see but that was the kind of movie we loved. Ones that we can laugh at and talk about days later. 

“Have you heard from Buck?” Steve asked. 

We were waiting in line for popcorn and I shook my head. “He said he was going to stop by the diner for lunch but he never showed up.” 

Steve padded my arm. “Don’t look too much into it/, Y/N. Buck’s not that kind of guy.” 

He knew that my mind was racing with thoughts of Bucky with other women. 

“I know but he’s been so distant lately.” 

“Maybe after the movie we’ll swing by his place and see what’s up with him,” Steve suggested with a shrug. 

I nodded and after we ordered our snacks, we continued to walk arm in arm towards the dark theater. We both were surprised that it was somewhat packed but we were able to find a spot in the middle row. 

Everything passed by great while waiting for the show to start but when a man a few rows in front of us started yelling and throwing things at the screen, I knew that the peace had vanished. There was a clip playing about the current war going on overseas and I could feel Steve tense up next to me. 

He sighed before leaning forward towards the guy. “Hey, you want to show some respect.” 

The guy ignored Steve so I gently patted his knee, telling him to let it go. 

“It’s not worth it, Steve.” 

The man wasn’t what had pissed Steve off, it was the fact that no matter how many times he tried to enlist, the government continued to deny Steve. Bucky and I both knew that it was slowly eating away at Steve that he wasn’t able to enlist. My mind was swirling with worry that Bucky would get his orders to fight. I hadn’t stopped to think of how Steve had been feeling with being told no over and over again. 

The man in front of us continued to hurl words, loudly, towards the screen. Steve couldn’t take it any longer, anger radiated off of him. 

“Hey, you want to shut up!” He yelled. 

My body tensed when I saw the man in front of us, twice the size of Steve, stand up and look directly at us. Worried eyes bounced from Steve to the man a few times and before I could part my lips, they were making their way out of the theater. My hushed protests fell on Steve’s deaf ears. 

“One of these days, that poor boy is going to get himself killed,” I sighed while gathering my things and hurriedly followed him. 

His signature catchphrase of whenever he fought bullies, ‘I can do this all day’ bounced around in my mind. 

By the time I reached outside, the chilly air causing my skin to rise, I knew I was too late in stopping the fight. The sounds of flesh on flesh, metal cans falling to the hard pavement lead me to the alley behind the theater. 

The sight in front of me caused my jaw to drop, mouth catching whatever bugs were flying around. Steve was dusting himself off while the man from the theater lay on the ground, blood pooling from his nose. That wasn’t what made my feet come to a sudden halt; it was the man dressed in the army uniform. 

“Bucky?” 

He turned on his heels and with his bright eyed smile, he reached for my hand. “Where have ya been, doll?” 

I ignored his question and motioned to the uniform. “Did you get your orders?” 

Bucky heard the shakiness in my voice so he hesitantly nodded. “The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for London first thing tomorrow.”

I nearly choked on my own saliva at his announcement. 

“Tomorrow?!” 

My echo jumped off the concrete walls of the alley. 

Buky nodded with a soft sigh. “I know, sweetheart. I thought we would have more time but I spent the last few days getting everything in order with my ma so we could have my last night together; with Steve.” 

I couldn’t help but giggle in my sad state at the thought of once again, Steve third wheeling our dates. 

“Don’t feel like you have to include me,” Steve interjerked which caused Bucky to shake his head. 

“I want to spend my last night in New York with my favorite people,” He looked between Steve and I. “You two need to get cleaned up.” 

“Where are we going?” I questioned. 

Bucky handed me a newspaper that read World Exposition of Tomorrow. He was one of the biggest science nerds we knew so it didn't surprise me that this is what he wanted to spend his last night doing. 

No matter how bad my heart was hurting, not knowing how long he would be gone for or even if he would return, I plastered my best fake smile and nodded. 

“Pick me up at my apartment around six?” 

Bucky twirled me into his arms, his soft lips finding their home against my own. The kiss was slow and passionate but quick when Steve sighed with uncomfortableness. 

“Wear your best dancing shoes, doll.” 

I smirked before molding into his body once more, pressing our lips together again. “Always do, Buck.”  

[ignoremyworld]

Somewhere between the lines

Second part to “the one who got away”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lots of things could’ve happened today. Steve’s car could’ve broken down, a small earthquake could’ve hit, someone could’ve mugged him. But none of them, NONE of them, could’ve hit as hard as this.

“Hi Stevie” the man says, almost a whisper, a sheepish little wave thrown across the room.

Steve is stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the man he once knew and loved. The man he used to call every night to tell him about a crazy customer. Standing in front of him.

“Eddie…” he whispers, his voice barely carrying through the room.

His mind goes back to the last summer before he left. The conversation they had.

“Promise we’ll never grow apart” Eddie had said. And of course Steve promised, he’d promise anything to Eddie if it meant he would stay.

“Of course” Steve sighs, holding out his pinkie for Eddie to take. And as they link their pinkies together, Steve knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this boy.

“Been a while hasn’t it” Eddie says, walking up to Steve with a smile, arms open wide, ready to hug.

Steve steps back, small tears beginning to well in his eyes. He looks Eddie up and down, as he can’t believe he’s actually here.

“I…I need a moment” Steve says, before rushing off to the staff room.

He slams the door, the walls shaking with the loud thud that probably was heard from outside the studio. A loud sob finally escapes his throat, and big tears flow down his face.

He scrambles for his phone, desperately wiping tears from his cheeks. Pressing robins contact, he moves to the couch and places his forehead on his knees, his shoulders shaking with sadness.

Robin picks up “hey I can’t talk long I- are you crying?”

“Robbie…” Steve sobs, “it’s…it’s him…it’s Eddie”

“What? What about Eddie? Steve what’s going on?” Robin says concerned

“He *hic* he’s part of the band I’m filming. He’s the lead. Bobbie I can’t do this” Steve says between his shaky breaths

“Oh god…Steve listen to me. You can do this. You can’t let him get to you again. So sit up! Take a deep breath, blow your nose, wipe your tears, and stand tall! Don’t let that asshole let you down again. Face him and get through this shoot. Then when you come home I’ll make you dinner and we can drink together okay?” Robin states. She always knew what to say, even if it sounded mean it was all in good faith.

“…okay” steve says reluctantly. They say their goodbyes and he hangs up. Taking a few deep breaths before following her instructions. He looks at himself in the mirror hanging off the wall. Nods to his reflection and walks out the door, and to his dissatisfaction, Eddie is there.

“Let’s start. You have your props?” Steve says sternly.

“Yes but-“ Eddie starts

“Good” Steve interrupts, walking past a worried looking Eddie.

Despite his effort, Eddie can’t get Steve to talk to him about something that isn’t related to filming. So eventually, he gives up.

Everyone starts to set up, the green screen behind the band and their instruments being put together. Steve lets them play a test round to get the audio settings all in order.

The bigger man, whos name is Garrett or so they all call him, stomps on the hi-hat pedal, settles the noise, and adjusts the cymbals to his liking.

After about twenty minutes or so, they start filming. Steve, who can’t seem to take his eyes off Eddie, moves the camera as they asked him to. Up, down, side to side, round and round and all that.

They finish filming the first scene for the day, and Steve lets out a sigh of relief. But he knows he has to be right back here tomorrow to film more of the video.

“Okay that’s it, I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve says quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. He wheels the camera back to the staff room, followed by Eddie, who is determined to have the one conversation Steve doesn’t want.

“Steve, please, talk to me” Eddie pleads softly

Steve angrily snaps around to face Eddie. “Oh you wanna talk? Okay let’s talk. Let’s talk about how you told me that we wouldn’t grow apart, let’s talk about how I had to wake up to a note from you telling me you were leaving. Let’s talk about how I sat in Robbie’s arms sobbing thinking it was MY fault you left. Let’s talk about that.” Steve shouts. Not caring if anyone else is hearing him.

Eddie sits there wide eyed, before taking a deep breath and speaking “look, I get you’re pissed at me. And rightfully so! I had no right leaving like that. And I regret the moment I stepped out that door every day. I am so unbelievably sorry Stevie”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. You lost that privilege. We promised forever, and you broke that promise. And that hurt more than when I was being strangled by the vines” Steve whispers

Eddie looks down at his feet. “Okay Steve.” He says, pulling out a piece of paper “this is my number. Please, please text me” he says timidly and begins to walk out the door “oh and by the way… I never stopped loving you. Even after I left.” And with that, he shuts the door to the staff room.

Steve falls to the floor. Quiet sobs escaping his lips. He wants to forgive Eddie. He really does, but he’s too hurt right now.

That’s the man he loves, and has loved for years. And though he’s hurting, he won’t let him get away again.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay because I felt motivated here’s the second part. I might turn this into a series but I’m not sure

Once again constructive criticism and feedback is always welcome!

Love ya!

[synvil]

Do you think that Rafe would act differently if the reader were having excruciating period cramps? As if she's having a hard time talking and is sobbing into her pillow. She first tries to oppose Rafe's attempts to calm and reassure her, so he has to be a little direct and use his tough voice to get her to listen.

hello anonnie !! <3

short answer : yes. but i do think it also depends on what season rafe we’re talking about. like s1 rafe i think would grow pretty aggravated bc he doesn’t quite understand just how painful the cramps are and gets annoyed with reader. but if we’re talking s3-4 rafe, then i think he would be more assertive but not aggressive and then comforts her afterwards. maybe feeling bad for being so commanding yk?

thought i’d do a little blurb (⸝⸝⍢⸝⸝) ෆ comfort time.

synopsis : bf! rafe trying to comfort you when you’re having severe cramps.

“baby, how’re you feelin’?”

the lack of response and the curling of your figure on his bed makes him sigh as he quietly steps inside the room and shuts the door. “baby, come on. you need to get up..”

it’s been a couple hours since you’ve been curled up like this, hugging a pillow tightly and finding yourself unable to move. every shift creates a sharp pain into your abdomen and you can feel the tears well up in your eyes.

rafe felt terrible at what you’re going through, even if he didn’t quite understand the length of it. he went out and bought some items for you but you couldn’t enjoy any of it if you couldn’t move.

“[name], i bought some snacks for you. i also bought a heating pad for you.” rafe takes a small seat on the edge of the bed and sets the bag down as he pulls out some items. “you need to get up now, it’s not going to help if you stay in that position all day.”

you only groan in response, hugging a pillow tightly. “c-can’t..” you meekly whisper, your breathing a bit heavy as you whimper and moan from the cramping.

rafe frowns as he sighs. “come on, i know it hurts a lot but i’ll help you. you’ve been laying like this so you haven’t changed your pad, which you should. i know you’re going to regret it if you bleed through so let me help you to the restroom and i’ll set up a warm bath as well, okay?”

“no..” even though you knew he was right, you had to refuse. you couldn’t even think about moving, wanting to just bare the pain in bed forever.

standing up, rafe exhales out at your persistent refusal and leans down, tucking his arms under your body, successfully surprising you as you gasp sharply and drop the pillow.

now carrying you bridal style, rafe narrows his eyes down at you and his once soft voice becomes firm. “i’m not going to say it again, [name]. let’s go get you into a warm bath to soothe your stomach and a fresh change of clothes. after that,” he begins to bring you to the bathroom as he continues to speak. “we’ll cuddle up together with a movie and you can enjoy your new snacks and the heating pad, and if you’d like, i’ll rub your stomach to ease the pain too.”

once inside the restroom, he sets you down on the closed toilet seat and kneels down to set up the bath for you.

you feel tears brim your eyes as you clutch your stomach and listen to him, imagining the heat of the water doing wonders for your pain. you can’t help but feel your chest warm as well from how sweet rafe was being, and feeling bad how difficult you were..

rafe notices the look on your face and smiles lightly, turning to you and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, rubbing your stomach with his hand over yours on your abdomen.

“I’m sorry for being a little assertive, but i promise it’s going to be okay. i’m here for you, baby. i love you.”

a/n : this might not be what you were expecting but this made me feel better :) especially as someone with bad cramps.

[veilosdaigoa]

Daily Writing Challenge February 2025 Day 2 - Power

TW: Abuse, Violence, Eye Horror

A soft knock rapped on the door before the youthful face of Zynia peeked through the crack, keeping her voice low: “Maira, that asshole is back. Smells like the back alley of Murder Row too. You want me to get rid of him?” 

Maira paused the gentle glide of her paintbrush over top of the canvas and glanced over towards ten year old Veilos, and then towards the door. “No, I’ll get rid of him this time. Can you take Veil into your room? I’ll make it quick.”

“Course! I got no clients coming in tonight. I can keep him as long as you need.” Zynia pushed the door open and extended a hand towards Maira’s young son, beckoning him over, “C’mon cutie, I’ve got a stash of that candy your mom doesn’t want me giving you.” She gave a playful wink towards Maira, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Go on with Miss Zynia, hun. We’ll get back to painting in a few.” She wiped her hands on her artist apron before pulling it off over her head and setting it, and their still wet canvases, aside.

“Thanks mom!” Veilos bounced onto his feet and hurried to the door, eagerly taking Zynia’s hand. She was his favorite at the bordello, always spoiling him with treats and never afraid to swear in front of him. She had been with Rose Manor for about a year and a half now after she had left her abusive husband. Maira and she became fast friends during that time, although later in life Veil would realize that they had always been a little more than just friends.

Zynia and Veilos scooted down the hallway to her room, catching a glimpse of that stumbling asshole downstairs. Veil knew a drunk when he saw one these days, and the pang of worry sat heavily in the pit of his stomach. He was much larger than his mom and could easily overpower her - and he was pretty sure he had in the past. She always had a few extra bruises after his visits but she would tell him that was normal. Veil disliked him, but he knew they needed the gold and that’s why mom did what she did.

Zynia shut the door behind them and immediately rewarded him with a few of the sugary cinnamon candies he loved. She tried to distract him with conversation as the muffled voice of his mother called out to the man and his heavy boots thudded up the stairs. The yelling started almost immediately as the door slammed shut behind them, Veilos couldn’t quite make out what was being said, so he pressed his ear against the shared wall in an attempt to better hear their conversation.

“Veilos. It’s her business, leave them alone.” Zynia motioned for him to come join her at the small table in the center of her room. Although a loud *THUMP*, followed by the sound of glass breaking caused her to shoot to her feet as the two shared a worried look. Maybe it wasn’t just her business anymore.

“I have to make sure she’s okay.” Veil reached for the door, only to have his hand swatted away by Zynia.

“No, I’ll go. You stay here.” Fingers curled around the wooden bat she kept next to her bed and slipped out of the door, walking on tiptoes until she stood just outside of Maira’s room. Zynia was the brave one, she always said that someone needed to stand up to these jerks and things had improved vastly at the bordello since her arrival.

Veil watched her from the doorway, and they both startled when another loud *THUD* rattled the closed door. He ran from the room and gave his mother’s door a try, only to discover it had been locked. “MOM!! MOM, ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT’S HAPPENING!?”

Zynia pulled him back and gently pushed him off to the side as she pointed towards her room and made a shooing motion while giving him an exasperated look.

There was a moment of silence before boots stomped towards the door and Zynia white-knuckled her bat in both hands. It flung open, the husky man now occupying the entire doorway as he glared down at the much smaller Zynia. “What? We’re in the middle of something, fuck off. The both of ya.”

Veil’s gaze darted in the small gaps between the man and the doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of his mother. “MOM!” He could see her cowering at the back of the room, clutching an arm against her chest, hair disheveled, and what looked like blood trickling down her face. He immediately darted for the room, only to be met with a grimy hand to the face shoving him backwards. He landed on his rear and was about to jump up and try again when Zynia quickly waved him off.

She mustered up as much courage as she could manage and stood her ground, “You have to leave. NOW! Guards are on their way. You’re not welcome here anymore!” Guards were definitely not on their way, staffing had been low for a while now and neither had time to call in any city guards.

“And what are you gonna do if I say no?”

Zynia raised the bat, gritting her teeth, “You’ll be arrested an–” She didn’t have a chance to finish that statement as the drunken man grabbed the bat and yanked it out of her grip before she even had a chance to use it. Before he could do anything, she delivered a swift kick to his crotch, and then another to his knee. He howled in pain and stumbled backwards into the room, and Zynia followed him inside.

Veilos stood off to the side, unable to see what was happening and almost afraid to look. A cacophony of fighting sounds echoed through the small space for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a matter of seconds: Breaking glass, cracking furniture, feminine screams, and masculine growls and yelps.  Eventually his mother bounced the side of her skull against the door frame and fell partially into the hallway, attempting to crawl out to safety.

“Mom!” Before he had much time to think about what he was doing, Veil rushed over and crouched next to her to see if she was still conscious. 

“Veil, please, go get help.” Her voice was raspy, weak.

It was too late at that point, the large man was already looming over them with dagger in hand and before it could be driven down into his mother, Veilos blocked the blow with his left arm. Not even the adrenaline could dampen the excruciating pain as the blade lodged halfway into his forearm. It was such a surreal experience to stare at this weapon now stuck in his own flesh and bone, and the tidal wave of pain and nausea hit all at once as he tripped backwards over his mother’s outstretched arm.

This was it. He was going to watch his mother and Zynia get killed, and then he was going to die. They had put up a good fight, but that man was just too strong and there was nothing he could do to stop this from happening. He watched in horror as the man clamped his meaty fingers around his mother’s neck, and time almost seemed to slow as Veilos clambered over, beating his small fists against him only to be shoved away repeatedly.

The frustration in him swelled.  He hated being so small and so helpless.  He hated seeing these women and men taken advantage of repeatedly. He hated seeing them brush off bruises and pain and suffering they didn’t deserve. He HATED this man with a fiery, burning passion he had never felt before. And with all of that anger boiling up within, it eventually spilled over into one echoing, bellowing shriek of rage:

“S̷̛̗͎̝͕̔͊̋̎͘T̷͖̰̑̃̓̓̏̚O̷̰͓̥̍͂̓͠P̵̨̻͉̰̰̭̈̄͆͗̊!”

The man immediately stopped what he had been doing and looked over towards Veilos with a bewildered expression.

Veilos stood up and wiped the tears clouding his eyes, and pointed to a shard from a nearby window.

“P̵̧̮̆́͝I̵͉͛C̶͚̺͚̟̲̩̏́̎̋K̸̬̟̩͚̂̃̌̅̑͝ ̵̖̺̯̱̼́͆̀̅̕Ụ̸̡̫̲͚̾̊̄̉͑̚ͅP̵͇̖̙̻̆̌͊͘͠ ̸̟̼͙̩̞̝̊͌̓̅̕Ṭ̴̬̗̞͇͊̊̅̏H̶̯̚̚͜A̴͚̒̔T̵͕̦͌̅̈̄͘ ̷̛̞͖͚̯P̴̡͚̀̃̔I̶̢̩̗̰͈͈̓͊̕E̷̝̩̐̍̓̄͋̕C̷͉̭͔̣̥̞̄̐͑͝Ë̶͖̳͚́̎͑͌̈͑͜ ̵̱̯̂͠Ő̴̟̎̋͌͝F̴͇̦̘̦͉̙͆̈ ̴̯̆̊̀̈́̾͘G̵̠͇͌L̴͚̈́̊A̷̢̜̦̯͌̇̎͋͝͝S̸̭͋͝S̷͙͉̖̱͛͝.̴̗̽̅”

The man removed himself from atop Maira and picked up the shard of glass as requested. His movements suggested he was doing this of free will, but his expression did not.

“S̴̬͈͂̓̀Ṭ̸̨̛̛̼̌̑Ǎ̸̡͕̈́̅́̕͝B̷̢͓̯͍͌̃́̒͒̓ ̴̱̈́͒O̴̟̱͕̺̣͌̎̔̿̈́͝U̷̩̾̏̈́͑̓͛Ṫ̷̝̦̮̣͊̍ ̷̢̨̺̼̬̂̒̅́͋̇Ỳ̸̡̡͙̬̝͊͑͠O̷̬͔͕͆͋̋̚U̶̩̰̗̟̱͂́̔͐̚R̸̨̦̱͔͕̤̈́ ̸̺̲͓͑̂̓̃̏͗Ḙ̸̡̥̊̊̒̉Y̸̥͙̹̩̼̘̒̓̀͝͝È̶̘̟́͝͝͠S̴̛͓̖͖̙͒͜.̶̯̮̆̋͋͘”

Maira gasped and covered her mouth, turning to look towards her son as the drunk man did just that. Veilos never once looked away, nor did he even blink until the man’s cries of pain and racking sobs had ceased and he lay dead on the ground. 

Eventually whatever trance he had been in faded and he looked to his mother, who briefly shared a look with Zynia before scooting herself over to her son and taking him into her arms, “Ohhh my boy. My sweet boy. You did so good, I’m so proud of you.” She eyed him over, tenderly touching his face and neck, lip quivering as she saw the dagger still protruding from his arm, “Come on, let's get ourselves fixed up.” She waved Zynia over to join them, “Someone else can take care of all this.” 

The bordello was family and they always looked out for their own.

@daily-writing-challenge

[ezrasxfics]

heheheheh

bunnydoll where ragatha gets hurt and tries to hide it but jax takes care of her anyways

you’re an idiot, y’know that?

-

bunnydoll hurt/comfort

-

ragatha pov

it’s just another day, just another adventure. and as usual, jax is being.. well, less than nice to everyone. i mean, it’s not surprising, but i just wish he’d put the effort in to be a decent person for once. for one day. a girl can dream, right?

as the adventure goes on, we all get separated. something about doing.. puzzles of some sort? i’m not sure, i’m having trouble focusing. so, here i was, in a dark room, having no idea what to do. eventually, i decide to walk around. underneath my feet, it felt like carpet, rough and matted. as if it hadn’t been cleaned in years. there’s also a dull hum, too, persistent and grating, coming from just to my left. instinctually, i follow it.

well, until it ends, completely out of the blue.

a shiver shoots through my body, as i stand in the pitch black, at a complete loss at what to do.

crack.

crack.

SNAP.

i find myself falling. falling fast, as my body catches on something sharp, ripping a large cut into my arm as a hiss of pain escaped my lips, all air knocked out of my lungs. eventually, i land, taking a few moments to regain my breath before checking my injury. it’s a bit of a doozy.. but i’ll be fine!! i pull one of my sleeves to cover it, making a mental note of the fact that moving it too much would only make it obvious that there was a problem. well, not a problem, right? just a small hiccup.

“raggy??” i hear a voice call out, a distinct voice that was only owned by jax. there was almost.. a hint of concern behind it? or am i imagining things..? of course i am. he has a heart of stone, he’s never worry for anyone!

“..jax..?” i soon respond, after recovering from the surprise. my voice came out a little more high pitched than i intended, making me internally curse. i’m fine. why am i being so dramatic..?

“yeah, it’s me, rags. ya deaf or something?” he calls back out, voice gradually getting louder. he’s approaching. “anyway, you okay? i heard ya fall. didn’t sound pretty.”

is he seriously asking me if i’m okay? no way. i must be dreaming, right?? just a dream, and if i strain my eyes hard enough, i’ll wake up! “i’m okay! just a bit beaten up, nothing i can’t handle!” i force out a laugh.

“you’re an idiot, y’know that? i can hear it in your voice. what happened?” he insists, causing my face to heat up a little. i can hardly believe it. why does he care? why is he making me feel like this??

“i’m not an idiot-“ i quietly protest, an attempt at avoiding the feelings bubbling up inside me. they’re too confusing to handle right now.

“y’are if you think i’m gonna believe you.” he retorts, and i feel myself being lifted from the ground, “don’t bullsh*t me. what happpened?”

“fine— fine.. i think i got cut when i was falling.. it hurts-“ i finally whimper, my arm throbbing as i lift my sleeve, revealing the stuffing slowly falling from it.

“that’ll need stitching. nothing serious, i don’t think. just.. here, i’ll stitch it for you now. and, we’ll tell caine later, get him to sort you out for real. you got that?”

“i think so—!“ i stammer, completely distracted by the feeling of being in his arms. it’s so comfortable.. warm.

eventually, he sets me down against a wall, getting to work on stitching my arm with a pretty, baby blue thread. it was a little messy, but he managed to do a cross-stitch pattern, just to be sure that it’s secure. that i’m gonna be fine.

who knew he cared this much? it’s just.. i didn’t think he would. or, has something changed in him?

“..dollface, i’m done.” he says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “you spaced out. is the pain that bad?”

“no- no, i’m okay!! thank you, jax.. i’m just a little out of it today, mustn’t have gotten enough sleep. i really gotta work on that!!”

“..right. whatever, come on, pomni and gangle managed to finish the puzzle, so the adventures over. thank god.”

“yeah. thank gosh for that, i don’t think this was my favourite adventure. it’s been so spooky—!”

-

thanks for the request, ellie!! i hope you liked this!!!<333

reblogs appreciated!!

[justa-smalltown-gargoyle]

In the sex lives of college girls I think it’s wild how a love interest will be the perfect person ever and then suddenly they invent a new reason that they’re terrible and it’s like a brand new character trait that wasn’t present at all before

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[loafysainz]

DONT GO DADDY | LN 4

lando norris!dad x reader!mom

no warn

hope you guys enjoy it!!

Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.

The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.

Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.

Like right now.

Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.

“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”

Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”

Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”

Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”

And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”

Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”

Lando blinked. “Go where?”

Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”

Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”

Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.

And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.

“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.

Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”

They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.

“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”

Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”

Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”

Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”

Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”

After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.

That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.

She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.

Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.

[sloaneispunk]

“too sweet for me”

frontman!in-ho x you

when in-ho developed feelings for you in the games, he realised how much older he was compared to you. but age is just a number…right?

๑⋅⋯ ──── ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ──── ⋯⋅๑

after the first games, reality set in. you sat on your bed, trying to scrub the blood off your hands and face. you were practically clawing at your arms, but the blood wouldn’t come off. then, you were approached by a man. ‘player 001’ it said on the jacket.

“you’re hurting yourself like that.” the man said to you, kneeling down by your bed.

“i’m fine.” you gave him a weak smile as you stopped.

“come, let me help.” he took your hand, taking the sleeve of his jacket, gently rubbing the dry blood off of your arm as you watched.

“thank you.” you whispered.

“you’re welcome.” he looked up and smiled. “you have some here…” in-ho licked his thumb, hesitating as if he was asking for permission, when you nodded, he cleaned your cheek.

when he was done, you thanked him once more.

“what’s your name? you look awfully young.” he commented.

“y/n…” you said shyly, making his heart swell.

“i’m young-il, it was nice to meet you.” he said before he got up, but you grabbed his arm.

“wait, i uh, c-can you stay?”

in-ho looked down at you, why would you want him to stay?

“i shouldn’t, i-” then, he heard a group of rowdy boys on the other side of the room, the leader with purple hair picking on a weaker girl. “on second thought, i think i should.”

in-ho stayed with you until lights out, keeping an eye out for thanos’ group and making sure that you were safe from them.

how old were you? definitely much younger than he was, but you were so sweet, so innocent. he loved it.

the next day, in-ho hadn’t slept. he had been too caught up watching you sleep, admiring as every hair fell in place, your chest heaving with every breath you took. he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t approached you with a motive. he knew it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from going to the bathroom when everyone was asleep to jerk himself off to the thought of you.

“y/n, come, have mine. you need to eat more.” in-ho said sternly, passing you his packet of milk as he ate his breakfast with you.

“why? you should have it.” you rejected him, tossing it back to him.

“you need it more than me.”

“i’m not a kid, young-il.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him causing him to chuckle.

you weren’t. so why did he have the urge to protect you?

then, he heard the voice of gi-hun, he turned around. there his real target was. in-ho brought you along as he made his way to the group, approaching them with a friendly smile.

easily, they welcomed you both with open arms, just like how in-ho knew they would.

“so why did you pick ‘o’?” jung-bae asked, mouth stuffed full.

“oh, i just need more money to pay off my debt…” in-ho started. “… i had a wife and kid but i lost them because of my gambling habits.”

the whole atmosphere of the group fell, everyone didn’t know what to say.

you somehow felt guilty. this man was old enough to be your dad, why were you attracted to him? besides he already has a family outside this place. your heart sank, making you look down at your food as the others continued to talk.

“what about you?” you heared in-ho ask, making your head shoot up. “i’m sure your parents must be worried, why do you want to keep playing?” he pointed to the ‘o’ on your jacket.

“it’s just me.” you replied solemnly, “i don’t really have anyone waiting for me.”

you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, staring into your soul as you immediately regretted revealing that part of yourself. you mentally slapped yourself, you were being too vulnerable too quickly.

“hey, it’s okay. when we get out of here, we’ll all continue being friends!” jung-bae nudged your arm, making you smile.

“yeah! we’ll all go eat a feast when we get out!” dae-ho agreed.

in-ho didn’t like that idea, and his face didn’t even try to hide it. he didn’t like that you would hang out with anyone other than him.

‘players please proceed to the next game’

you were terrified. after knowing the stakes at hand, you knew it was suicide continuing, but you didn’t have any other choice. in-ho noticed you stiffen, he gave your arm a squeeze, letting you know that he was still there.

when you reached the second game, you learnt that it was going to be played in groups of five. luckily for everyone, your team already had five members.

you took your seats in a line on the floor, awaiting instructions. in-ho sat in front of you, still ensuring that you were sat close to him as the game commenced.

the first two teams took their places at the start line, both eager to win the games. but it was harder than anyone had thought. eventually, neither was able to complete all stations in time. you watched as they were being taken out by the guards, shot down with no remorse.

you instinctively grabbed onto in-ho as you gasped at the gnarly sight in front of you. if you didn’t get your head in the game, that would be you soon enough.

“what are you thinking about?” in-ho questioned when you had failed to answer him, lost deep in your thoughts.

“i’m scared, young-il.”

“nothing will happen to you, i promise.” he replied, ruffling your hair. “stay strong for me.”

you nodded.

when it was your turn, you could feel your legs shaking with every step you took. in-ho was the first to link your arms with his, giving you a subtle smile to calm your nerves.

as the game started, the team made their way to the first station. dae-ho picked up the ddakji, throwing it once, hard onto the ground. by some miracle, the blue envelope had flipped and everyone cheered.

at the second game, jung-bae took the stone from the guard. you shifted closer to in-ho, giving him space to aim. in-ho took the opportunity, pulling you close against him, you were everything at that moment. he could feel the warmth radiating off you, your smell filling his nostrils, making his head dizzy. he barely noticed when everyone cheered once more ehen the stone had been easily knocked down.

then, it was your turn.

“breathe.” in-ho whispered in your ear when he noticed how shaky your hands were.

to his surprise, you had managed to pass within a single try. he cheered you on louder than anyone in the team, moving on the the next game.

even as he spun the spinning top, your arm never left his. maybe it was a good luck charm, because he too was able to spin it on his first try. part of his was relieved because he didn’t embarrass himself in front of you but another was disappointed. in-ho had planned this moment out for so long, he would fail multiple times to keep gi-hun on edge. it was funny how just by having you there he had screwed up his whole plan, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it.

naturally, gi-hun had also made it without having any redo’s. everyone was estatic as they were being led out of the game room, but in-ho was off.

then, he felt a small hand on his shoulder causing him to turn around only to be met with your face.

“are you okay?” you asked as you caught up with him. “we did it, why do you look so down?”

“just surprised i guess.” he said, trying to brush it off.

walking back into the room, you were approached by thanos and his team.

“you goons made it back, huh?” thanos jeered, arms crossed as he looked you up and down.

that didn’t go unnoticed by in-ho. he slapped the boy across the face, shocking him as he gasped dramatically.

“look at me when you’re talking to me.” in-ho spat.

“who are you? is this your boyfriend, girl? isn’t he a bit too old?” thanos laughed. but in-ho didn’t take it lightly, punching him, causing him to fall to the ground as his nose started to bleed.

“young-il, that’s enough.” you stopped him before he could take it further.

with one last look of disgust, in-ho walked off, leaving the boy on the floor.

in-ho might not have realised it but that comment took a toll on him. it made him realise how true his words really were. he was in his 50s and you were so much younger than him, it wasn’t right for him to feel how he felt towards you.

“young-il, what happened-”

“go away, y/n. i don’t even know why you care so much.” he raised his voice, pulling his arm away before you could touch him.

you were dumbfounded, taking a step back as your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

did that come out too harsh? he hadn’t mean to snap at you, he was just so caught up in everything.

you simply nodded, heading back to the team as he stood there alone, regret overwhelming him as he cursed under his breath.

that night, he couldn’t sleep. how could he? he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to erase your pitiful face from his mind. eventually, he got up, walking towards your bed, but you were gone.

he started to panick, rushing towards the guards, pushing pass them to leave the room. as he practically ran pass the bathroom, he heard soft cries. shit.

he barged in, “y/n? are you here?” you didn’t reply.

he went to the only closed stall and gently knocked, making sure that he didn’t scare you. “y/n, open the door. it’s me.”

“go away.” he heard your muffled voice.

he really did mess up.

“honey, open the door, let me in.” he pleaded.

after a few moments, he heard a click. then, he saw you, sitting on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, your eyes and lips puffy from crying.

“oh, darling.” he cooed, kneeling down, just like how he did when you had first met. “why are you crying?”

you didn’t reply, only gazing up at him with sadness in your eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him what was wrong, he knew.

he sat down, pulling you close to him, letting you cry into his chest as he held you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it.” he murmured into your hair. “please don’t cry.”

his heart broke all over again with every tear that fell. he had hurt the only person that didn’t deserve any pain in this place.

what was he going to do? he had never felt this kind of weakness before, he almost felt vulnerable with you. you needed him and he needed you too.

[agirlsguidetolove]

I THOUGHT YOU KNEW

pairings: theodore nott x reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.

Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.

It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.

“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.

“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.

“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.

“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.

“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”

Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.

Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.

“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.

“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”

Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”

“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”

Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.

“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?

“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”

“What,” Theo got quieter.

“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”

“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.

“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.

“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”

Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”

“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”

Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”

Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“To me, it did!”

“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.

Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”

“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”

“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”

It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”

Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, I would.”

not proof read 🧸

i 🫶 theo nott

[sigh-tofm]

when the power goes out one cold and rainy november evening…

… price

- goes full dad. pulls the grill up to the back veranda door and cooks up some mean steaks for you two. gets a fire going in the fireplace to keep the house heated. has half a mind to call the power company and tell them that they don’t need to hurry, he’s got everything covered here. actually, they don’t need to come at all, not for a few days. tells you his thoughts as he pulls the mattress off your bed and deposits it in the living room in front of the fireplace, so you both can keep warm tonight. you let him know in no uncertain terms that he will do no such thing. you’ll let him have is fun tonight, but you will need a hot shower and a working oven in 36 hours, no matter how much he wants to play boyscout. but as you sit in front of the roaring fireplace and your admittedly very rugged and handsome husband feeds you bits of grilled steak and holds a glass of red wine to your lips, a thick, warm blanket covering you both, you must admit that this isn’t bad either.

… kyle

- excitedly improvises. you know, it’s like this every day when we’re in the field, he beams as he brushes the dust off the firepit in the woodshed. doesn’t mean it has to be like this now though, does it, kyle. you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and watch as he finds the least rotten firewood in the shed and uses up eight matches before he can get a light. you almost tell him to leave it and come inside, that you’ll order in tonight, but he’s so engulfed in fanning the little flame to life that you can’t help but play along. you get an umbrella when the rain comes down harder and use it to shield both your boyfriend and his firepit from the weather. when you gently ask how he’s going to cook up the pizza you two were in the middle of preparing when the power went out, he wilts a little, but somehow manages to macgyver a cooking system for it that only leaves it slightly burnt. you know, he says while you two are standing under the awning, admiring your fire baby and nibbling on damp, blackened pizza, in the field we sometimes need to share sleeping bags too.

… johnny

- immediately relents. moans and groans about being off duty and that he shouldn’t be expected to fend for himself like this when he isn’t in an active war zone. you pull up the local takeaway menu on your phone and hand it to him. go get us some warm food, soldier, you prompt him and gather up some supplies while he’s away. the old scottish farmhouse you live in has a fireplace, of course, so you light a fire there and with some effort pull the couch up in front of it. blankets and pillows from the living room, old fair isle knit jumpers from the hallway closet, a sheepskin rug to warm your feet on. when he comes back with his arms full of steaming indian (best to get some extra, mo chridhe), his mood seems to have lightened a little too. especially when he sees you in thigh high knit stockings, wearing his jumper and laying on the sheepskin rug. okay, maybe this isn’t so bad. at least he’s not being shot at.

… simon

- is prepared. goes down to the basement and carries up box after box of emergency equipment. hands you a round little paraffin stove (which you have no idea how to work) and a matching aluminium pan, as well as a large variety of ready-made freeze dried stews and soups. just add water, he says unhelpfully, and continues pulling out equipment from his kit. amongst the various bags of tools and gadgets you can spot tent poles and emergency flares, and it’s obvious he’s been itching to use all this stuff for a while. you decide to entertain him and google your way around the stove, finally getting a light on it. you light candles and pull out your winter coats while the water boils, making it an overall cozy time. hav’ta be prepared, he mutters as he comes to sit with you when the food’s ready, the living room full of his unpacked catastrophe preparations. next time we’ll just go to a hotel, you gently request and serve him year-old mushroom stew, brought back to life with some warm water. he looks longingly at all his equipment. you yield. or camping.

[greengoblinswifey]

Moth to a Flame- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself entangled with your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, despite being in a committed relationship. The chemistry between you ignites on and off set and the lines blur, leading to a heated affair.

warnings— fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, cheating(reader does), praise kink, degrading kink, not proofread i fear.

a/n: this is long asf but you’ll love it, read while listening to Moth to a Flame by The. Weeknd <3

On set, the tension was palpable. The cameras were rolling for season two of the show where Nicholas and you, as the main characters, were set to film an intense love scene. The script called for his character to finally confess his desire for you, despite your on-screen character’s relationship with someone else. Ironically, it wasn’t just the characters who were tangled up in complicated feelings. In real life, you and Nicholas had crossed the same line, and it made filming the scene that much more real.

Your boyfriend, Cody, who had always been a bit uneasy about you acting alongside Nicholas, was on set that day, watching the scene unfold. The moment Nicholas delivered his line with intense conviction- “I want you, fuck your boyfriend,” It was almost like a direct hit to Cody in real life. His fists clenched, and you could feel the heat of his glare even from where you stood.

The scene continued, Nicholas's hands on your waist, pulling you close as you kissed for the first time this season. The chemistry between you both was undeniable on and off and that only seemed to infuriate your boyfriend further. Before the director could call “cut,” Cody stormed forward, clearly upset.

“Cut!” the director yelled, trying to defuse the situation. You hurried over to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

“Listen, babe, take a breather, okay? We have to do this scene. It’s just acting,” you whispered, trying to soothe his frustration. You could feel Nicholas' eyes on you from across the set, jaw clenched in irritation. He hated seeing Cody upset, especially when it came to you which was very common.

“I don’t like it,” Cody muttered, his voice low. “The way he looks at you, the way you two are-”

“Go take a walk through the city, clear your head," you interrupted softly, trying to stay professional even though the tension was real. “It’s part of the job, okay? We’re gonna take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Nicholas. But eventually, after a few tense moments, he gave in and turned to leave, though not without a frustrated huff. The moment he was out of earshot, you sighed, running a hand through your braids.

Nicholas approached you, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and irritation. “You okay?” he asked, though his gaze flickered toward where Cody had disappeared.

You nodded, but inside, the emotions were swirling. You were cheating on your boyfriend in the show, but the real betrayal lingered in the air, just beneath the surface.

In the next scene, the tension was still hanging in the air, and the director decided it was best to take a break. “Alright, we’re gonna pause here,” he announced. “Everyone take ten, grab some snacks, get some air. We’ll continue filming once we’re all settled again.”

You nodded, eager for a moment to escape the tension between your boyfriend and Nicholas on set. Heading back to your trailer, you sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while sipping on coffee. Your mind raced, replaying the scene that had just unfolded. You had been thinking about leaving Cody for a while now, but his overbearing presence made it hard. You feared what he might do if you walked away. And then, of course, there was the media, always watching.

As you lay there, lost in thought, a knock sounded at your door. You assumed it was Cody, needing to cool off after his earlier outburst. Without even looking, you called out, “Cody, just take a walk. You need to cool off.”

The door opened, but instead of Cody’s familiar presence, it was Nicholas who stepped in. You sat up on the bed, surprised. “Oh, Hey,” you muttered, sitting up straighter as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied your face closely, his eyes filled with genuine care. You tried to give a nonchalant smile, nodding.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though it was obvious you weren’t. Nicholas’ gaze flickered from your brown eyes down to your lips, then back up again. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was barely any distance at all.

You both were inching toward each other, your breath mingling as the attraction that had been building between you two, both on and off screen, reached its breaking point for the hundredth time. Before you could think, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but then his hands moved up to cup your breasts, sending sparks through you.

You pulled away, breathless, your heart pounding. “What if Cody comes back? What if he sees us?” you whispered, half in fear, half in excitement.

Nicholas, with a wicked grin, leaned in closer, his voice a deep rasp. “Let him see. Let him see me make you feel good, in a way he never can.”

The room felt hot, the air thick with desire. Nicholas stood up and crossed the room to lock the door. The click of the lock made your pulse race. Then, without hesitation, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs. He looked absolutely irresistible, his body chiseled and perfect.

You couldn’t stop staring, practically drooling at how unbelievably hot he was. And as he stood there, looking down at you with smoldering eyes, you realized just how powerless you were to resist him any longer.

The tension in the trailer was thick, the heat between you and Nicholas undeniable. You wanted more of him, but the looming threat of Cody returning, or the director calling everyone back to set, weighed on your mind. Despite that, your body ached for his touch, and you couldn’t resist as he sat beside you, his lips crashing back onto yours.

The kiss deepened, your moans of his name slipping past your lips as he whispered against your skin, “I love when you moan my name.” His eyes darkened with desire as he added, “I hope that whenever Cody fucks you, you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed lower, his hands already tugging at the low-cut top you wore. His lips found your breasts, his mouth warm as he sucked on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Nicholas,” you moaned, trying to stop him before he left any visible marks. “No hickeys, please-”

But he didn’t listen. He left two dark hickeys on your breasts, smirking as he pulled away to admire his work. “I hope when he takes off your clothes, he sees these,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “He’ll know you belong to someone else. To me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed down to your skirt, slipping underneath to find your lacy panties. His fingers rubbed you through the thin fabric, and you were already soaked. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips lifted into his touch, begging for more.

“Does this turn you on?” Nicholas asked, slipping a finger past your panties and into your heat, teasing you. “Cheating on that little boy?” He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him as he asked again. “Do I turn you on?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip before whispering, “Yes Daddy, you do.”

He grinned, sliding another finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You gasped, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure built inside you. “Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you deeply to muffle your moans. His lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses there as he praised you. “You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so wet, soaking my hand.”

Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a smirk. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He didn’t stop there. His fingers returned to your heat, sliding in and out as his mouth found your breasts again, sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn’t long before your body gave in. You came hard around his fingers, your moans muffled by his lips as he kissed you through it. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “Such a good girl for Daddy, coming on my fingers like that. That’s my girl.”

He kept fingering you gently, easing you down from your high, until you were breathless and shaking beneath him.

Without a word, you slid down the bed, pulling at Nicholas’s pants with urgency. His eyes had been locked on you, heavy with lust, and when you finally freed his hard cock, you were mesmerized by how perfect it looked, thick, long and pretty with a pink tip. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you worked your tongue along his shaft. “You’re such a good girl, feels so good.”

You started teasing him, your mouth moving slowly, hands caressing his balls, but the teasing hadn’t lasted long. Nicholas grabbed your braids, gently tugging your head forward. “Suck my cock,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. “No teasing.”

You obeyed, taking him deeper, your mouth moving faster as you pleased him just the way he liked. His hands guided your movements, and his moans filled the air, telling you how perfect you were, how no one could ever make him feel like this. “You’re too good for him,” he said through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re with.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his length. He gasped, tightening his grip on your hair. “Does he know you call me when he sleeps? Does he know where your heart lies?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth full of him, but the moans you let out told him everything. You took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, and he cursed under his breath, his abs tightening.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace, and your hands massaged his balls as you took him as deep as you could. It only took a few more strokes before his hips jerked, and with a groan, he spilled into your mouth. His head fell back, and he moaned, “Such a good girl, my good girl. You did so good for me. You sucked my cock so well.”

You swallowed everything, licking him clean before pulling away, looking up at him as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Nicholas pulled you up from the bed, guiding you into his arms as your lips met in a soft kiss. His touch was gentle now, and as you nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hand found its way to your hair, stroking it soothingly while you relaxed in his embrace.

“I don’t want to do this forever,” you murmured softly, your voice tinged with the weight of your emotions. The tension of sneaking around and the complications with Cody weighed heavily on your mind.

Nicholas held you tighter, understanding the unspoken struggle. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Before either of you could say more, there was a sharp knock on the trailer door. “Filming’s starting again in five!” the director called from outside.

You sighed, pulling yourself from the warmth of Nicholas’s embrace. “I guess it’s time,” you said with a small, reluctant smile.

You quickly washed your mouth in the small sink, your mind already shifting back to the scene you had to film. Nicholas lingered for a moment, waiting for you to finish before stepping to the side to give you space. He couldn’t come out with you immediately, it would look suspicious, so he stayed behind, allowing you to exit first.

When you stepped back on set, Cody was already there, his eyes burning as he watched you. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the tension radiating from him, as though he suspected something. Nicholas emerged a minute later, casually strolling back to his mark, though you could see the edge in his expression as his gaze briefly flickered over to your boyfriend.

It was time to get back into character, but the lines between fiction and reality were blurring more than ever. Cody’s stare bore into you as if daring you to give something away, while Nicholas stood close, his jaw clenched, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The director called out, “Action!” and the scene picked up exactly where they left off. Nicholas, fully in character, glared at you with fiery intensity as he delivered his line, “I want you. Fuck your boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss that was far more heated than the script required. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and chest, his presence dominating the moment. The kiss deepened, and as he moved you onto the bed, it felt as though the lines between acting and reality blurred. He seemed to glance over toward Cody, who was watching from behind the camera, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional or not.

“Cut!” the director shouted, stepping forward with a smile. “That was flawless, great job you two.”

Nicholas's lips were still hovering over yours, your breaths mingling as you both panted from the intensity of the scene. His hands stayed on your body just a little longer than necessary, and Cody’s eyes burned with suspicion from across the set. It was as though he could feel something was off, but he said nothing.

Later, the day’s filming wrapped, and everyone was heading back to the hotel. You, Nicholas, and Cody were all staying in the same hotel, which only added to the tension. In your shared room with your boyfriend, his agitation was evident. He was pacing, his expression dark and frustrated.

“What was that today?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “The way you two were all over each other. It didn’t look like acting.”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “It was nothing, Cody. We were just doing the scene, it’s literally just acting. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

He wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, scrutinizing every word that left your lips. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Because it didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you stepped away from him, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not about to argue with you over my job. You chose to be there.”

Cody’s face softened as he realized he was pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to approach you again. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make it a thing.”

But you were done with the conversation. “I don’t want to hear it, Cody.” The words were final, your back turned to him as you tried to distance yourself from the situation. Frustrated, his voice snapped at you, but then he stopped himself, muttering another apology. He moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck in a gesture meant to calm the tension. But as his lips touched your skin, you found yourself closing your eyes, not thinking of him, but of Nicholas, the way his hands had held you, the way his lips had lingered on your neck during filming and outside of it.

Cody’s hands slid down, trying to pull at your clothes, his fingers tugging at the hem of your top, but you stopped him before he could pull it off. The memory of the hickeys Nicholas had left on your chest flashed in your mind.

“I- I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.

His frustration was immediate. He huffed and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You could hear the water running. He couldn’t understand why things had suddenly shifted, why the desire had waned on your end. But deep down, you knew.

You knew you’d much rather Nicholas be the one to kiss your neck, pull down your top and take you right then and there. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal. You were determined to get a piece of him later that night when your boyfriend was asleep or hopefully out getting drunk.

As the night wore on, you waited for Cody to finish in the bathroom. You laid in bed, pretending to sleep, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he finally crawled in beside you, exhausted and oblivious. Once you were sure he was deeply asleep, you carefully slid out of bed. To test, you flicked your finger against his forehead, smiling slightly when he didn’t stir.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bathroom and began your nightly routine, washing your face and applying your skincare and makeup. The rush of anticipation built with every step. You picked up the red lingerie, skimpy and barely there, hugging you in all the right places, and slid it on, admiring how it clung to your body in the mirror. Then, you wrapped yourself in a trench coat, keeping the surprise hidden.

With one last glance at your boyfriend, who remained fast asleep, you grabbed your phone and texted Nicholas. “Is your door open?”

His reply came quickly. “It’s open, princess.”

Your heart raced as you made your way down the hall, the soft click of your heels barely audible. Reaching Nicholas’ room, you opened the door slightly, peeking in before stepping inside. Nicholas was standing there, eyes darkening with hunger the moment he saw you in the trench coat. He crossed the room, meeting you at the door, gaze fixed on you.

Without saying a word, you undid the knot of your trench coat and let it fall to the floor. The red lingerie you wore underneath left nothing to the imagination. His breath caught as he took in the sight of you. “You look so sexy for Daddy,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, Nicholas pressed you against the door, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found your breasts. You moaned softly, hands tangling in his hair, feeling the intensity of his need. He squeezed your breasts, murmuring, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy," you breathed, arching into him, “I’m all yours.”

His smirk deepened, his lips claiming yours as he pulled you even closer, his hands exploring every inch of you.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, grinding against the hardness pressing into you. His hands gripped your thighs as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You watched, breathless, as he slid his boxers off, his thick cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum.

Hovering over you, he began rubbing himself along your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging his length up and down your slick folds. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice husky as his eyes took in the sight of you beneath him.

“Just fuck me, Daddy,” you begged, voice desperate and needy.

Nicholas smiled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he reached for the straps of your lingerie and slowly pulled it off, baring your body to him completely. He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake until his mouth found your pussy. His tongue flicked against your clit, and you moaned loudly, gripping the sheets as pleasure rolled through you. He devoured you, lapping at your wetness, the sensations building and building until you were on the edge, so close to coming.

But just as you were about to let go, he pulled away, leaving you panting and needy. “I want you to come around me,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He reached for a condom from the nightstand.

“No condom this time,” you interrupted, breathless but firm. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to cum inside me.”

Nicholas’ eyes flashed with something primal, his lips curling into a smirk. He tossed the condom aside and positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your entrance, teasing you again. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and commanding.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, nodding, “I want it all.”

With a groan of satisfaction, he pressed his thick cock inside you, filling you inch by inch. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling of him raw inside you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. Nicholas began to thrust, slow and deep at first, driving you both wild.

As the heat between you intensified, you felt an electric thrill run through your body, urging you to crave more of him. “Daddy,” you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, “I want more.”

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard creaked under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, pushing back against him as he filled you completely.

“Just like that daddy,” you urged, your voice thick with passion.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. You belong to Daddy now, you always have.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked, his tone commanding, eyes locked onto yours.

“Yours, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you replied, the thrill of submission making your heart race.

“Good girl,” he said, a satisfied smirk across his lips. “That’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he rolled his hips beautifully against yours, the connection between you both electric. “I want you to cum all over my dick, raw, for the first time,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

The feeling of him pushing deeper ignited a fire within you, building to a peak you couldn't hold back. With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely.

Nicholas groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy,” you sobbed and he grinned, his pretty white teeth glistening.

“You soaked me baby, squirting on me like that, being a cheating slut turns you on?” His pace never let up but this time, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit sending a pleasure you almost couldn’t take rushing through your writhing body.

A scream left your lips as you creamed and squirted again all over his cock, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell baby,” he moaned and you felt his hot cum spurt inside of you. He continued thrusting gently, the pace almost loving as he allowed your grip to milk him of every drop.

Now a panting mess, he fell beside you and turned to face you. Your leg was draped across his heaving body and you stared at his beautiful disbelieved figure as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re going to be the death of me baby.”

[cloakedsparrow]

Dick: Okay, I think we’re gonna have to do ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’.

Jason: Yeah. It’s tropey but it works.

Dick: Exactly. Wanna flip for Bad Cop?

Jason: You’re kidding.

Dick: Or we could play Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock?

Jason: Dude, I can’t be Good Cop. I kill people, remember? You can’t kill people and be Good Cop.

Dick: Those were traffickers and mob lieutenants. These are Rogue goons.

Jason: What, like that matters?

Dick: Yes, that matters. They don’t care that you took out some mobsters. They care that you revived the Joker after beating him to death and then let him go.

Jason: I didn’t revive him, I just didn’t let him die yet! And I didn’t let him go either! That was Batman! I was gonna kill the psycho!

Dick: Yeah, well, you still kept him alive and the goons probably know it. Just like they know I was happy to leave him dead when I killed him.

Jason: What?

Dick: You heard me.

Jason: You…?

Dick: Killed the Joker? Yes. I thought he killed Timmy and then when I confronted him, he said your name and…I didn’t stop hitting him until he choked on his own blood.

Jason: Then…how is he still alive?

Dick: Batman revived him.

Jason Fucking what?

Dick: Yeah.

Jason: Well, now I definitely can’t be Good Cop. I’m way to pissed for that shit.

Dick: Well, so am I.

Jason: Fuck.

Dick: Fuck.

Jason: So now whadda we do? Try to beat it outta him?

Dick: No, he'll lock down. That's why I suggested "Good Cop, Bad Cop" to begin with.

Jason: So we need a Good Cop.

Dick: Okay, I’m gonna call Timmy and see if he can come play Good Cop.

Jason: Good plan.

Dick [talking into a secure (& Batman-proof) phone]: Hey, Robin, you busy?

Tim [on speakerphone]: Kinda, yeah. What’s going on? You sound weird.

Dick: Hood and I need to get some intel from a goon, and we’re thinking “Good Cop, Bad Cop” is the way to go but neither of us can pull off Good Cop right now.

Tim: Shit. I’m in Bangkok right now-

Jason: The fuck are you doing in Bangkok?

Tim: Speedy needed help with a thing.

Dick: In Bangkok?

Tim: No. She’s in Korea.

Jason: So, again, why the fuck are you in Bangkok?

Tim: Because Lady Shiva’s here and she’s perfect for what Speedy needs, so I’m calling in a favor she owes me.

Dick: You’re calling in a favor from Lady Shiva because Speedy needs help with a thing in Korea.

Tim: Yep. You got it.

Dick: No, that’s- You say that like it doesn’t require any further-

Tim: Can you hang on for a second? There’s an assassin tailing me.

Dick: Shit. Do you need us to send someone out there?

Jason; Starfire should be done with her thing by now. She's not on your shit list, right?

Tim: No, I like Kori. But I’m good now. My assassin got the other assassin.

Dick: You have an assassin?

Tim: Kinda? She defected from the League of Assassins and is up for hire but she always gives me priority since she feels like she owes me a life-debt.

Dick: Again, you sound like you think that statement doesn’t require any further explanation.

Jason: So you hired your assassin buddy to kill the other assassin?

Tim: What? No. Of course not. She didn’t kill him. We’ll question him later. She never kills on my jobs since she knows I don’t like it.

Dick: What about other jobs?

Tim: That’s her business. We aren’t all control freaks, you know.

Dick: That’s-

Jason: That’s good, Little Red. Good that you have healthy boundaries.

Dick: I have healthy boundaries.

Jason: Sure you do.

Tim: Okay, you’re gonna have to argue that on your own. I’m supposed to help my friends out with something after I get Shiva to help Speedy, but I have to handle this interrogation first. So how about I just send my friends the twenty-five plans I drew up and ask Bunker if he minds helping you out before he joins us? He should be able to get inside Gotham in less than ten minutes.

Jason: Oh, Bunker’s perfect for Good Cop.

Tim: Right? They’ll spill everything and probably give him their grandma’s secret family recipes on top of it.

Dick: Wait. Back it up. You have twenty-five plans drawn up? What are you guys up against?

Tim: Nothing we can’t handle. Young Justice figures, why even bother with a plan B if you aren’t gonna cover the whole alphabet?

Jason: There’s twenty-six letters in the alphabet, Little Red.

Tim: Yeah, but plan Z is always the same, so we don’t bother listing it anymore.

Dick: Is it ‘get an adult’?

Tim: Of course not.

Jason: When you were a Teen Titan, how often did you call in an adult when you probably should have?

Dick: Okay, that’s fair.

Jason: So what’s plan Z?

Tim: ‘Fuck it, we ball’.

Dick: That’s not a pl-

Jason: That’s perfect. I love it.

Dick: No. Don’t encourage him.

Tim: Thanks, Red. So do you want me to ask Bunker about helping you? I’m kinda on a time crunch now.

Jason: Yes, please.

Tim: Okay. He’s on the way. Is there anything else?

Dick: Whe-

Jason: No, we’re good. Have fun storming the castle!

Tim: ‘Kay, bye!

Jason: Bye!

Dick: The fuck-

Jason: Bunker and I can handle the interrogation here and Timmy and his assassin friend are gonna be busy with an interrogation there for a bit. If you take off now, you can probably catch up with him and go all big brother like you’re dying to.

Dick: You sure?

Jason: Yeah, I’m sure me and Bunker can handle this asshole.

Dick: Thank you.

Jason: Yeah, well, you did kill the Joker. That’s gotta count for something, right?

Dick: I’ll tell you all about it after I make sure Timmy doesn’t get himself killed or lose another organ.

Jason: I’ll hold you to- Timmy lost an organ?

Dick [already calling Kori to get him to Tim]: Later. I’m on a time crunch now!

Jason: I’m holding you to that!

Jason: *sighs* No one in this family knows how to share.

[moonstruckme]

request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other

Thanks for requesting!

cw: hospital, mention of surgery

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words

Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 

It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 

“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 

“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 

“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 

“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.

She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 

“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 

You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”

You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 

Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 

“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 

Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 

Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 

“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 

“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 

“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 

“I am,” he says. 

“But you’re so handsome.”

Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 

You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 

Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 

Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 

You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 

“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 

“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 

Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 

“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 

“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 

Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 

“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”