#and it's fine- it's all fine because the pool is drained right now so I don't have the means anyway unless I went with the highway bridge

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P13

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Hey my Angel Babies! It's been a while since I've written this series and in all honesty I needed a few days to really decide on the next bits of the plot. Any who, here we are. Poor Y/n is dealing with the aftermath of the case, we get some of the group back together which is so cute, and then we have an unexpected crashout.... AND a little moment between two people whatever could that mean hmmm???

warnings: alcohol, drinking, mentions of s/a, vomiting, mentions of community service, crying, emotional turmoil, violent behaviour, injuries, blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The country club buzzed softly with the muted sounds of conversation and clinking glasses, but for Y/N, the world felt oddly distant. She sat with Topper at a small table on the patio, nursing a drink she didn’t particularly want but felt compelled to hold. The ice had melted, condensation pooling around the base of the glass, but she hadn’t taken more than a few sips. Topper, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully as though she might snap at any moment.

“I just can’t believe he won” 

Y/N muttered, her voice low but sharp. She traced the rim of her glass with a trembling finger, her frustration palpable. 

“It doesn’t make sense, Topper. I told the truth- I did everything right.”

Topper leaned forward slightly closer to the table. He studied her, his chest tightening at the sight before him. There was something different about Y/N these days, like the light she carried- the spark that used to make her shine in every room- had been dimmed. He’d seen it start to slip away even now, months later, it was like it was draining out of her completely. He knew what had happened was something impossible to just “get over,” but a part of him had hoped time would start to heal her wounds, that she’d slowly begin to rebuild herself. Instead, he’d watched her retreat inward, her laughter growing quieter, her eyes a little emptier. And it killed him to see someone so full of life now struggling under the weight of something so cruel. Still, he forced a calmness into his voice, 

“I know you did, Y/N,”

Topper exhaled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “You can’t keep going over it like this, it’s not good for you.” 

She shot him a glare, “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m not trying to be helpful,” he shot back as he took a swing of his drink, “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking okay?”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she leant forward speaking to him pointing to herself,  “Oh, so now you’re all thinking I should just get over it? Move on like nothing happe-”

“-that’s not what I’m saying-” Topper began firmly shooting her a stern look, but she cut him off, her voice rising as she crossed her arms, head tilting slightly.

“Then what are you saying, Topper? Because it sure sounds like you’re all tired of me talking about it!”

He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a groan. “No one’s tired of you, Y/N. That’s not what this is about. We’re just—” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. 

“We’re worried about you.”

Y/N shook her head, as she lifted her glass to her lips, swallowing some of the cold liquid in the glass, her grip on the glass tight, sitting in silence for a moment, looking at the mint flattened against the side of her glass. 

“Well I’m sorry that I don't know how to sit here and pretend I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” Topper said gently. “You’re allowed to be angry, Y/N.”

You have no idea how I feel

“I am angry.” she said, her voice bitter, her fingers running over the arch of her brow as she spoke.

“I’m so fucking angry I don’t know what to do with it...”

As if on cue, the sound of soft laughter drifted over from a nearby table. Y/N glanced to her left and caught sight of where it came from; a trio seated a few metres away, two girls and a guy. They were whispering to each other, their eyes darting towards her every few seconds. One of the girls leaned in to say something, and the guy snickered, not even bothering to hide his glance in her direction. Y/N’s jaw tightened. Topper’s brow furrowed as he noticed the sudden change in her body language. His gaze shifted to where hers had been moments earlier, landing on the trio and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. She turned back to Topper, but her mind was already elsewhere. The whispers, the glances- they crawled under her skin like insects, itching and burning until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“What?”

She called out suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the patio where they sat. The trio froze, their laughter dying instantly as the girl’s voice rang out. 

“You’ve got something to say? Then say it.”

“Y/N…” Topper spoke out to her, but she ignored him, turning in her seat to face them completely, the group now looking at her in surprise. Her gaze locked on the three of them, and she raised her voice again.

 “No? Nothing? Just gonna sit there and whisper like cunts?”

The two girls exchanged a glance, their cheeks flushing red eyes wide. One of them grabbed her bag, and the other quickly followed suit, not looking back. The guy hesitated, taking a sip of his whiskey, looking like he wanted to say something, but a single glare from Y/N sent him scrambling to his feet. Within moments, the three of them had disappeared inside the club, their table left empty. Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair with a huff.

Get the fuck out of here

Topper sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “You know they’re probably just bored, right? Gossip’s their only hobby.”

“I don’t care,” Y/N sighed out, “I’m not going to sit here and let them stare at me like I’m some kind of freak show.”

“You kind of just gave them one,” 

He pointed out, grinning slightly. Her lips twitched, a small smile tugging on her lips as her hand came over the table to playfully shove his shoulder. Topper was mid-rant about the absurd price of Malibu boats when Kelce appeared at their table, holding another drink for Y/N. He set it down in front of her on the table, eyeing the girl with a teasing grin. 

“You haven’t even finished that one yet,” he said, nodding toward the mostly untouched glass at her elbow. Y/N barely glanced at it, pushing it to the side with a small smile. 

“I’m not that thirsty Kels.”

Kelce raised a brow, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated groan. “Not thirsty? What happened to you? You used to throw back five of these in, like, an hour.”

Her lips twitched in an almost-smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes as she forced a shrug. 

“Okay well maybe I used to be an alcoholic-”

Kelce cut her off with a loud laugh tumbling past his lips, Topper snorted at her statement, shaking his head. “Right.”

“Uhuh, laugh it up,” 

She muttered, not meeting their eyes. Her gaze flickered briefly to the untouched drink Kelce had brought, but the sight of it sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. She hadn’t been drunk since that night. Not once. Even the thought of losing control, of putting herself in a vulnerable state again, made her skin crawl. She’d never let herself feel that powerless again; but she didn’t say any of this to the guys. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest like it might hold her swirling thoughts at bay. Kelce rolled his eyes, 

“Whatever you say”

Y/N ignored him, pulling out her phone and unlocking the screen. She swiped idly through a few notifications, but her thoughts were elsewhere, caught on the gnawing disappointment she didn’t want to admit to herself. Topper noticed the shift immediately, once again; he seemed to have become awfully observant with the girl. He tilted his head slightly, watching her with a knowing look, 

“He’s not coming.”

“Huh?”

“Rafe,” Topper said, placing his bottle down onto the table, “He’s not coming, he messaged me earlier.”

Oh

Her stomach dropped, but she forced her expression to stay neutral, brushing it off with a shrug, “That's fine- I didn’t expect him to come.”

Topper’s gaze softened, his voice dipping lower. “He didn’t want to upset you, Y/N. That’s why he didn't tel-.”

“I said it’s fine seriously” 

She said again, this time a little sharper. She flicked her eyes back to her phone, scrolling aimlessly as though she had better things to focus on. But the truth was, she did care. She cared more than she wanted to admit. She hadn’t seen much of Rafe recently, not since everything had gone down in court. He’d been tied up with his community service, his probation, and God knows what else. And she… she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go out as much. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the whispers, the stares, or the fact that there was a possibility she might bump into Cooper, the world outside felt heavier now.

And Rafe not being there- it made it worse.

Kelce and Topper were talking again, their voices buzzing around her like background noise, but Y/N barely registered it. She stared at the drink Kelce had brought her, her reflection rippling faintly on the surface of the amber liquid. It wasn’t just about the alcohol. As Y/N took a sip from her drink, trying to get some semblance of normalcy back, Kelce’s phone buzzed yet again. He glanced at it, his lips curling into a knowing grin. Topper raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Seriously? Another message?”

Kelce rolled his eyes, tapping a quick reply. “Yeah, yeah. What do you want me to do?”

Y/N smirked and bumped her shoulder into the boys sitting next to her playfully. “You want that cookie so bad Kels- you’re whipped.”

“Whipped?!”

 Kelce scoffed, looking up from his phone. “I’m not whipped. I’m... dedicated. You guys wouldn’t understand.”

Topper chuckled, crossing his arms. “Dedicated? You're in deep, man.”

“Oh, come on,” Kelce shot back, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation laughing at the two. “What, you two jealous because I’ve got a steady girl?”

Topper leaned in, grinning. “Jealous? Me? Nah. I’m just shocked you’re getting tied down. I’m living my best life.”

“Best life?” Kelce raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. “Yeah, right Topper, it’s called avoiding commitment.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “You’re both hopeless if I’m being honest.” As if on cue, both Kelce and Topper turned to her with identical looks of mock offence, and the girl looked momentarily surprised at their unplanned co-ordination.

“Right, because you’re such a relationship guru.” 

Kelce quipped, narrowing his eyes playfully. Topper smirked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the arm rests of his chair, “Okay Ms. Expert, you’ve been dodging relationships like it’s a full-time job.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing despite herself, “Please, I’m just selective. There’s a difference.”

“Selective, huh?” 

Kelce teased, leaning closer. “Is that what we’re calling it?” He exchanged a look with Topper before adding, “because if we’re being honest, you’re not all that selective when it comes to a certain someone.”

Y/N froze for a fraction of a second, her lip pressing together to avoid a smile from breaking out on her lips. She asked, feigning innocence, but her tone lacked conviction,

“I have no idea what you’re you talking about-”

“-Oh, come on, Y/N. We’re not blind, we see the way he looks at you.” Topper grinned at her as he teased her.

“And the way you look at him-” 

Kelce added, smirking as he wiggled his eyes, he cut off his words with a wolf whistle directed at the girl. Y/N groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. 

“You’re both ridiculous. There’s nothing going on. Besides, it's- ... complicated…”

“Complicated?” Kelce raised an eyebrow as he mimed air quotes around the word, shooting her an exaggeratedly sceptical look, “Sounds a lot like you’re avoiding the question.”

“Rafe practically worships the ground you walk on, and you’re out here calling it ‘complicated.’ ”

Topper agreed, he couldn't stop himself from pressing the subject further, his grin softening into something more genuine.

 “Come on, Y/N. You’ve known each other for years. What are you so afraid of?”

Stop

Y/N froze, his words hitting her like a freight train. For once, she didn’t have a quick comeback or a sarcastic quip. Instead, she sat there, fingers lightly drumming against the table as her mind wandered. In this moment she realised he'd never told them- not Topper, not Kelce. They didn’t know about what happened in the hut. About the way he’d pulled away at the last second, leaving her reeling, confused, and- if she were being honest- extremely hurt. She assumed he would’ve told the boys, they were his best friends after all, yet now she was wondering if maybe he didn't tell them because he felt bad for her… did he not want to embarrass her poor judgement? The memory lingered, an ache she couldn’t quite shake. She realised she’d been silent too long when Topper raised an eyebrow at her.

“Y/N?” 

He prompted, his tone softer now, curious. She forced a shrug, reaching for her drink to busy herself. 

“I don’t know, Top,” she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended. “It’s just... complicated.”

Kelce groaned dramatically, throwing his hands down onto the table. “There it is again!” Topper’s eyes stayed on Y/N as he spoke. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

 “I mean, Y/N, Rafe’s not some random guy. It’s Rafe. He’d never hurt you-”

“Okay, enough,” 

Y/N said quickly, waving her hand at them. Her cheeks felt hot, burning, she swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Topper’s words were meant to reassure her, but they only made her chest tighten.

“This conversation is over.”

Well there goes keeping your cool

The two boys quietened down at the girl’s sudden change in mood, realising thwy may have pushed her too far, but the tension was suddenly cut by Kelce’s phone intensely buzzing against the table again. Kelce laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat. “Phoebe’s coming to join us”

Y/N grabbed her drink, muttering under her breath, “You two are not real.”

The two boys just laughed, as Topper spoke up,“if you start bringing her every time we meet, we’re going to have to start charging a fee.”

Y/N smiled, placing her glass down, “If she can keep you in line, that’s a service I’d pay for.”

Kelce shot her a wink. “Well, don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll always be my number one girl- even if Phoebe’s around.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N teased. “You keep telling yourself that, Kelce.”

The banter continued, easing the tension that had built up over the past few days. It wasn’t a fix-all, but it was a damn good distraction. Kelce cleared his throat, all their glasses now standing empty, his playful grin slipping away as the tone in the air shifted. He leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table. Topper and Y/N exchanged a quick glance, both sensing the change in his demeanor.

"Alright, jokes aside," Kelce began, his voice quieter now. "We need to talk."

Topper snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Don’t tell me you’re cheating on her, man."

Kelce shot him a sharp glare. “Shut the fuck up, Topper.”

Y/N raised her brows, her curiosity piqued. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, Kelce hesitated. He sighed, his eyes drifting over the tables around them, before focusing back on Y/N. His usual easygoing nature had completely vanished, replaced by something more solemn, more deliberate.

“I was talking to some guys down at the beach yesterday,” he started slowly, his voice lowering as if he was about to share something important. Y/N leaned in instinctively, feeling the weight of the moment.

“They were saying things… I mean I didn’t believe it at first, but you need to know.” 

He continued, looking down at the table for a second before lifting his gaze to meet hers. Y/N frowned, sensing the heaviness in his words. She could tell it was something serious, “Okay, and what does this have to do with me?” she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral, though her insides churned. Kelce bit the inside of his cheek, clearly uncomfortable, but he pushed on. 

“They were talking about why Cooper left New York last year…”

Y/N’s brow furrowed, her instincts screaming for him to stop, to not go down this road, to just leave it and go home, not to ruin a good night. But she couldn’t stop now. Not when he’d already begun, 

“What do you mean? He said it was family business, didn’t he?”

“Well," Kelce hesitated, his voice lowering further. "Apparently, there were two other girls—different ones, from New York—who accused him of… well, you know.” He paused, searching for the right words. 

“Sexual assault.”

What?

The words hit her like a brick to the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. Y/N’s breath caught, her mind struggling to process what she’d just heard. 

“...what?” 

She questioned, her voice a little shaky as she sucked a breath in, sharper than she intended.Kelce took a deep breath as he continued in a hushed voice. 

“People are saying he left because of it, that he tried to cover it up. His family... they got involved, trying to make it all go away. They left for a while, layed low, and let the whole thing blow over.” He looked at Y/N, gauging her reaction carefully, 

“...I’m just telling you what I heard.”

Y/N sat back in her chair, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if to steady herself. Her pulse quickened, and she could feel her mind reeling. She didn’t want to hear any of this- especially not now, not after everything Cooper had already done. She felt queasy but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the new found uneasiness. She sat in stunned silence, the words Kelce had just said still reverberating in her mind. How was she supposed to react- what was she supposed to say? The room felt like it was closing in on her, the quiet pressing in on her chest.

“Is it true?”

She finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief. She met Kelce’s eyes, waiting for an answer she wasn’t sure she could even handle. Kelce didn’t look away. He simply nodded, his expression grim, heavy with the weight of what he was about to confirm. 

“Yeah. I think it is- but I'm not sure.”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing as she tried to digest the words, but they didn’t sit right with her. It didn’t make sense, yet it did. Everything was starting to fall into place, the way he avoided talking about New York, how he never introduced her to any of his old friends. Her mind was whirling, but there were no words for the storm inside her.

“Look,” Kelce began again, his voice softer now, “I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else. You deserve to know.”

. . .

“Yeah, um, thanks,” 

Y/N shook her head, trying to dispel the swirling thoughts that were clouding her mind,  she muttered, the words coming out stiff. She wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for the information, or for simply being the one to say it instead of randomly overhearing it, which would have made her feel even worse. She pushed back her chair, the scrape of it against the floor startling her in the sudden stillness of the moment. 

“I think I’m going to head back-” she said, her voice faltering slightly as she fumbled for an excuse, “-I just remembered I promised my mom I’d help her with the flower arrangements for her charity event this Sunday,” she added, half to herself.

Topper and Kelce exchanged a look, both of them knowing full well she was lying, but neither of them called her out on it. They could see she wasn’t okay-  she wasn’t even close to being okay, not for a while- but this wasn’t something they could push her on.

“Come on, I’ll drop you home,” 

Topper said gently, standing up and offering her a small, understanding smile. Y/N shook her head, though the invitation was warm. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Nah, c’mon. I don’t want to be the third wheel with Kelce and Phoebe anyways.”

He was already moving toward her, a playful grin now taking over his features as he cut her off teasingly. Y/N gave him a half-smile, nodding her head as she stood up. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

She turned toward Kelce, who was watching her quietly, his expression serious. She walked over and pulled him into a brief hug, trying to convey something unspoken through the gesture. When she pulled away, he looked at her, his expression softening with concern. He spoke, his voice much quieter now.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you-” 

“-No, no, you didn’t upset me. I’m glad you told me.”

Y/N shook her head quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Kelce nodded, but he still looked worried. She nodded, back at him as she continued,

 “Don’t worry about me, Kels. Enjoy the evening with your girl. Tell her I said hi.”

He gave her a small, understanding smile, then shot a glance at Topper. “Alright. Well, if you need anything.”

Y/N managed a faint smile before turning to Topper, who had his arm outstretched for her, a silent offer of support. She slipped her arm through his, feeling the weight of the evening starting to take its toll. Topper wrapped a friendly arm around her waist, giving her a gentle pat on the back. 

“Let’s get you home.”

She gave him a faint nod, her heart heavy with everything she had just learned, everything she had yet to process. The thought of Cooper, of what he’d done not only to her- but to other women? It made the world around her feel dizzy. As they left the country club, Y/N’s mind was miles away, Topper’s soft rambling blurring in her ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat on the cold bathroom floor, her back pressed against the wall, her head buried in her hands. She hadn’t even realised how fast the tears had started to fall until they were dripping down her face, mixing with the bitter taste of the vomit she had just expelled. Her stomach twisted in knots, the disgust still gnawing at her insides, even after everything had settled.

Fuck

She knew it was stupid to let a rumour, a whisper in the wind, make her feel so fucking broken. She wasn’t even sure if it was true. Yet somehow, it amplified everything that had been building up in her since the trial. The emptiness. The uncertainty. Cooper’s smirk still etched into her mind after the verdict was announced, and the weight of his actions felt like a suffocating fog that wouldn’t lift, no matter how many breaths she took.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to scrub away the aftertaste of bile and despair. Her phone buzzed on the floor beside her, sending a shiver through her. The sound was piercing in the stillness of the bathroom, and for a moment, she just stared at it, willing it to stop. It buzzed again, the screen lighting up with a name she hadn't expected to see,

Rafey

Her stomach tightened at the thought of him. She hadn’t seen him in days, not properly- only in fleeting moments between his community service shifts, or anger management classes. He’d been keeping his distance, but she couldn’t deny how much she missed him. It was... complicated. Everything was so fucking complicated.

She eyed the phone cautiously, her thumb hovering over the screen as she debated whether or not to open the message. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hear from him. She did. But with everything that had happened, with the weight of what she was processing, she wasn’t sure she could handle one more thing on her plate right now.

Rafey  :  You okay? 

Rafey  :  You haven't replied to my texts.

The message was simple enough, but the way he asked, so direct and concerned, sent a ripple of warmth through her chest. But she hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to drag him further into this mess. What would he even say if he knew what was really going on in her head? She almost didn’t respond. But something about his message kept her glued to the screen.The phone buzzed again, snapping her from her thoughts.

Rafey  :  Just want to know you’re okay?

Y/N stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen, unsure of what to type next. It felt like everything had been so difficult lately, and Rafe's message was the first real connection she'd had in days.

Angel  :  I’m good. 

Angel  :  Helping mom organise some stuff

She read the message, pressing her lips together as she waited for him to reply. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a small bridge between them.

Rafey  :  That’s good

Angel  :  How was your service?

Rafey  :  Don’t wanna talk about it 

Rafey  :  Tired of that shit.

Y/N sat back against the toilet seat, her heart heavy with guilt. If he’d never gotten involved in what happened between her and Cooper, he wouldn’t be stuck with this sentence. He wouldn’t have to endure the endless hours of community service, the stress, the constant reminders of his worthlessness from his father. The mess she'd dragged him into. She felt a sting in her chest.

Angel  :  I’m sorry

Rafey  :  Don’t be

Y/N sat there, her chest tight, as the seconds ticked by. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard again, and without thinking, her fingers moved on their own, typing out the words she’d been holding back for so long.

Angel  : I miss you

Angel  :  I miss you so much

She stared at the message after sending it, her heart pounding in panic after she hit the send button. The little dots showed he was typing something.

Then they stopped.

She frowned, feeling the conversation slip back into that tense silence again, her eyes were stuck to the lit up screen of her phone, begging him to respond but nothing came. She could feel the lump slowly rising in her throat again.

No, no, no, no-

But a beat passed, and then suddenly his reply came.

Rafey  :  I miss you too angel

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She smiled, a small, sad smile, as she read his words. There was something so simple and yet so meaningful in them. Her fingers hovered again, wanting to say something else but unsure.

Then the phone buzzed again.

Rafey  :  Miss you every day

Y/N stared at the screen, she could feel the weight of the unspoken between them. She wanted to respond, to keep the conversation going, but for now, all she could do was sit there and stare at the screen, her smile turning sad as her mind drew her back to what Kelce had told her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was starting to set, casting a soft golden hue over the apartment as Y/N moved around the kitchen. The scent of garlic and herbs filled the air as she arranged plates and silverware on the table, her hands moving with a kind of routine that helped calm her racing thoughts. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided to invite the guys over. Maybe it was the tension of the past week- maybe she just wanted something normal, something that felt like a distraction from the storm in her head.

She placed the last glass on the table and stepped back to survey the scene. The table was set simply- nothing extravagant, just a warm and inviting arrangement. Y/N ran a hand through her hair, sighing lightly as she wiped her hands on her pink apron. She could hear the faint hum of the oven in the background, the dinner nearly ready. 

As she adjusted the napkins, her phone buzzed from the counter. She glanced over at it, catching the name flashing across the screen. 

Young Rich & Sexy 

T-man  :  You’re not gonna believe it Y/N

Kels  :  We’re already on our way

T-man  :  Left 10 minutes ago

Angel  :  What? 

Angel  :  You guys are early???

Angel  :  Now that’s a miracle

T-man  :  We decided to give you a surprise

 Rafey  :  I'm 10 minutes away too

Angel  :  Rafe don’t text and drive, please

Rafey  :  I’m a professional

Kels  :  and me

Angel  :  …

Kels  :  fr?

Angel  :  boy idgaf

Kels  :  right 

T-man  :  he’s literally swerving as we speak 

Kels  :  anyway

Kels  :  HELL YEAH GIMME SOME FOOD

Angel  :  FATTYYYY

T-man  :  You two need to stop spending all your time on TikTok

T-man  : You’re losing brain cells

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. She set the phone down, looking at the table once more. There was something almost surreal about it—this dinner, this small moment of peace amid the chaos. She hadn’t seen Rafe much lately with his community service, and there were still so many unspoken things between them, but having him here tonight felt like a small step forward. She checked the oven one more time and then hurried to tidy up a bit more- just a few stray dishes, a stray fork here and there. She didn’t want to be caught off-guard when the guys arrived.

Y/N heard the doorbell ring and quickly wiped her hands on her apron, making her way to the front door with a small smile. She hadn’t realised how much she needed the company until now. The sound of laughter and chatter from the group of friends outside was already enough to ease some of the tension that had been lingering in her chest for days. When she swung open the door, there was Kelce, grinning like an idiot. He immediately leaned in with a playful wink and said, his voice smooth as ever,

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her head tilting back slightly as she placed her hands on her hips, giving him an unimpressed look. Before she could respond, Topper walked in right behind him, his smirk matching the playful tone in the room. 

“He’s been practicing that for the past ten minutes.”

Kelce playfully punched Topper in the arm, “Not cool, man, that was supposed to stay between us!”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling, as she stepped aside to let them in. They all trooped inside, Kelce and Topper bickering lightheartedly, but Y/N’s attention flickered past them to Rafe, who had been trailing behind the others. He was standing in the doorway now, his eyes meeting hers in that brief, still moment.

. . .

. . .

The space between them felt charged, like everything was suddenly up in the air, neither of them sure how to step back into this dynamic they’d shared before everything had gone wrong. But Rafe was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but warm.

“Hey.”

“Hey” Y/N replied, her voice soft, a little unsure. She stepped aside to let him in, the faintest flutter in her chest at the sight of him.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Rafe’s gaze softened, and he nodded, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand as they stood close together. “Yeah. Just... been a long week. Glad to be here.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten at the sight of him. She didn’t know why but without thinking, she stepped forward, and before either of them could second-guess it, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Oh-

Rafe hesitated for a second before his arms enveloped her, pulling her in close.

For a long, quiet moment, neither of them said anything. It was just the two of them, standing there in the doorway, holding each other. She could feel his breath on her hair, his arms a little tighter around her than usual. Neither of them was in a rush to let go, neither wanted to break this simple connection they’d been craving for so long.

“Cmon Y/n, a man's gotta eat!” 

Seriously?

Kelces voice rang out with an exasperated sigh. Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away slightly, looking up at Rafe with a smile as they walked through the house to the guys in the kitchen . Y/N rolled her eyes, smirking at Kelce. 

“I’m not making anyone wait. Go sit down your ungrateful ass down and I’ll bring everything out in a sec.”

Kelce immediately walked off from the kitchen into the connected dining room causing the girl to let out an amused scoff as he dropped into one of the chairs, his movements as if he’d just arrived at the world’s greatest feast. Topper spoke,

“Alright well, I’m ready to eat my weight in whatever you’ve got cooking.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his words, the boy carrying off some plates with him as he left. She headed to the stove to check on the food one last time, feeling a little lighter with each passing moment. As she adjusted the heat, she heard Rafe’s footsteps behind her. He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the counter, watching her.

“You did all this yourself?” 

He asked, his voice almost low, as if the question was both casual and somehow loaded at the same time. Y/N shrugged, trying to play it off cool. 

“It’s no big deal. I like cooking.”

Rafe smiled, his eyes scanning the spread she’d prepared. There was something about the way he looked at her—an appreciation, a recognition that she was doing this for them, for him. She wasn’t sure if it was the tiredness from the day or the sheer comfort of their usual rapport, but her heart seemed to settle a little.

“Well, it smells amazing…” 

He said, his voice steady. Y/N caught the way his gaze lingered on the dishes, eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn’t just the usual appreciation. No, this was different. Rafe’s eyes flicked from one pan to the other and then back to the food with a subtle sense of recognition, like he was trying to place the scent.

“Wait-”

Is that. . . ?

 He trailed off, unsure whether to finish the question. Y/N gave a small nod of her head, trying to remain casual, though she could see the look of disbelief creeping into his expression. 

“Um, yeah... I thought you could use some right now.” 

She shrugged. Rafe stared at her for a moment, lips slightly parted, as though he couldn’t quite understand how she’d known. The dish- a comforting, aromatic smell with a richness that he hadn’t realised he missed- was something his mom used to make all the time. Something familiar and warm, a little taste of home he hadn’t realised he'd been longing for. It had always been the kind of meal she’d cook when he needed grounding, when everything else in his life felt too unpredictable.

“How- how did you remember that?” 

I remember everything you've ever told me about you

He asked, his voice almost incredulous, his gaze locking onto hers as though she’d just hung the stars in the sky.

Y/N smiled softly, a touch of warmth spreading through her chest. “When you’d talk about your mum sometimes, you mentioned it. I don't know... it felt like the right thing to do.”

Rafe blinked, clearly moved by the simplicity of her gesture. It wasn’t just the food- it was the thought behind it. The fact that she’d listened, that she’d paid attention, and remembered the small things about him, things he hadn’t even realised he still held dear. They brushed against each other lightly, his hand grazing hers where it rested on the counter, the contact innocent enough, but it lingered in a way that made her pulse quicken. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Their shoulders brushed again, a small touch that felt intimate  Before she could think too much about it, Y/N gestured towards the table. 

“Let’s get them fed before Kelce blows up.”

Rafe chuckled, his gaze softening as he gave her a nod, “Lead the way.”

As the others settled into the dining room, the atmosphere lightened, the earlier tension of the week drifting away. Yet, for Y/N and Rafe, there was something more, something unspoken. It was the way they looked at each other when no one else was paying attention, the way their hands nearly brushed again, but neither of them reached out.

The plates were empty now, save for a few crumbs and remnants of sauce, the table was littered with empty glasses that had once held wine and water. The soft clink of ice in glasses and the occasional burst of laughter filled the room, creating an atmosphere that felt warm and easy, like the kind of evening that could stretch on forever. Y/N leaned back in her chair, a satisfied hum slipping from her lips as she glanced around the table. The food had been a success, and the company even more so. Rafe sat across from her, his usual intense, guarded expression softened by the easy chatter that had flowed between them throughout the night. He was laughing now, his head tipped back, eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine amusement. Topper, ever the troublemaker, had just finished cracking a joke, and they all burst into laughter. Once the laughter died down, Rafe, grinning, sat back with his drink, his eyes on Y/N, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You know, I still remember when you tried to make that lasagna when we were kids," Rafe said, a smirk forming on his lips. Y/N furrowed her brows, not sure where he was going with this. She blinked at him, 

“What are you talking about?"

"Come on, you were like... what, 11? And you insisted you could cook for everyone," Rafe teased, leaning forward slightly. "You were so proud of it. You said you were going to make a ‘real’ lasagna like the ones your mom made."

Y/N’s eyes widened in realisation. "Oh my god, don’t remind me. That thing was so bad" she laughed, rubbing her forehead at the memory. "It was burnt on the edges and gooey in the middle, and I made everyone eat it anyway."

"I can’t believe made us eat it" 

Topper chimed in, grinning wickedly. "And I’m pretty sure you cried when I said it was... well... an acquired taste." He burst into laughter, and Y/N shot him a playful glare. Kelce spoke up placing his glass back down onto the table, 

“Man you said it was shit” The guys laughed at Y/n as she shook her head at them, a wide smile on her lips. She protested, her voice light-hearted,

"I was trying to impress you guys!" 

Well you impressed me

Rafe spoke up, tone softening. "And I’ve never seen you so determined about anything in my life. Even if it did end up looking like-."

"-Hey! I was 11," she said, throwing her hands up in mock defence as she rolled her eyes. "Give me a break."

"Honestly, I don’t know how you thought that burnt mess was a ‘proper’ lasagna," Topper said, still chuckling. "But you were all in so, points for effort."

Rafe grinned, then added, "But the funniest part was that we all ate it because you asked so nicely. Even when we were pretty sure we’d end up with food poisoning."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment of the memory, but there was something comforting about the way they reminisced, as though they were all back in that childhood space, where nothing mattered more than getting through the day with each other.

"You guys are lucky I never tried cooking again after that," she said with a smirk, crossing her arms. "It was years before I attempted to make anything again."

"Well, thank God," Kelce teased, "or we’d be stuck with another shitty lasagna."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face didn’t fade. "Yeah, yeah," she said, her voice warm, almost fond. She looked at the empty plates on the table and started thinking about how she should start clearing the table when Rafe suddenly stood up, grabbing his empty plate.

"No, no, leave it," 

Y/N called out, quickly protesting against his actions. "I’ll do them later. Seriously, you’re my guest, Rafe. Let me do it."

But Rafe wasn’t having it. He grabbed another plate, shaking his head as he stacked them up, lifting them in his hands. "I’m not letting you do it by yourself" he said, voice firm.

"Rafael Alexander Cameron, sit down right now." 

That was hot...

Shut up

Y/N’s words were sharp, and she stood up from where she sat opposite him, hands on her hips as she stared at him with a small frown on her brow. For a second, Rafe just stared at her, clearly amused. But before he could argue back, Topper and Kelce burst out laughing from the living room.

"Oooohhh, full government name, man!" 

Topper cackled, leaning back in her chair. Rafe shot him a glare, his mouth twitching into a grin despite himself. "Seriously?" he muttered, but he was clearly trying not to laugh too. Kelce, still snickering, raised his glass and chimed in, 

"She’s not messing around Rafe."

Y/N shot a playful smile over to Kelce, before turning back to Rafe, arms folded. "Sit. Down. You’re my guest, and I’m doing the dishes. End of story."

Rafe rolled his eyes, but there was no arguing with her. He slowly sank back down into his seat with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "Fine," he muttered. 

"But next time, I’m taking the plates."

Y/N grinned, victorious. "Next time, I’ll make sure we have pizza, just so you can put the boxes in the trash."

Topper and Kelce both groaned. "That’s cheating!" Kelce said with a laugh, dramatically throwing his hands up.

"I don’t care," Y/N shrugged, grinning at them. Rafe leaned back in his chair, watching her as she turned back to the sink. "You’re lucky I like you," he said quietly, though there was a teasing edge to his voice. Y/N glanced over her shoulder at him, shaking her head.

"Don’t make me regret letting you eat my food."

"Too late for that," Rafe teased, catching her eye with a smile that made her heart skip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time had slipped by in comfortable conversation, the laughter still lingering in the air as Topper and Kelce made their way to the front door, grabbing their jackets. Y/N lingered in the hallway, watching them, feeling contentment. The night had been easy, almost like old times, but now that it was winding down, there was a small sense of unease creeping in.

Did I shut the window in my room. . . ?

"Thanks again for dinner, Y/N," Kelce said with a grin, his hand already on the door handle. 

"You’ve been promoted to best cook I know- well, next to my mom, of course."

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. "Uh-huh, sure. It was pretty simple, but I’ll take the compliment."

"Don’t be modest," Topper added, giving her a playful wink. "That was a five-star meal, seriously if you ever invest in a restaurant, let me know. I’ll be your first customer."

Y/N laughed again, but she felt something tugging in her chest. The house was starting to feel a bit quieter, emptier now that her parents had gone on a business trip and the boys were getting ready to leave. She shifted on her feet, eyes flicking to Rafe, who was standing by the couch, casually leaning against the wall, arms folded. As Kelce and Topper said their goodbyes, Y/N hesitated for a moment, then turned to Rafe. She could feel her pulse quicken, though she wasn’t sure why.

Ask him-

"Hey, uh…" she started, trying to sound casual. "D’you wanna stay a little longer? It’s just I- don’t really like being home alone…"

Rafe’s expression softened immediately, his eyes flicking from her face to the door, then back to her. "Yeah, if you want me to, Angel." He sent her a small smile, Y/N’s chest warmed at the words. She offered him a small, grateful smile. 

"Yes please."

Kelce and Topper exchanged a quick look as they made their way to the door, and then they both turned back to her with their signature playful energy.

"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah?" Topper grinned, giving Rafe a wink before he turned over to Y/n. 

Dick

"Catch you later, Y/N."

Kelce followed suit, pulling her into a quick, friendly hug patting Rafe on the back with a suggestive look, flashing him a teasing grin as he pulled away. As the door closed behind them, the silence settled in. The atmosphere shifted a little, the weight of the quiet filling the space, but it felt different with Rafe still there. She turned to him, her voice softer now. 

"Thanks for staying Rafey."

Rafe just gave her a warm, easy smile, the house felt quieter now, but not in a bad way. She glanced over at Rafe, who was already heading towards the kitchen, his casual stance making him look right at home.

"Come on," she said, "Let’s get these dishes out of the way before I lose my motivation."

Rafe smirked, following her into the kitchen, his hands already moving to gather up the empty plates. "You’re just trying to avoid doing the hard part by getting me to do it,. Is that why you asked me to stay hmm?"

Y/N chuckled as she began rinsing the plates, the sound of water running filling the space. "Maybe. I’ve never been great with dishes. But you know what? I think I deserve a break after cooking for you guys."

"Fair point." 

He set to work drying the plates with a towel, his movements efficient but relaxed. It was strange- this kind of peaceful, mundane domesticity- something she hadn’t realised she missed. They were just two people, doing something as simple as washing dishes, but in a way it felt comforting, grounding.

"So, how’s your week been?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him as she wiped down a plate. "Any trouble with the um... community service?"

Rafe sighed, lifting a plate to dry it with exaggerated care. "It’s shit," he muttered, half-smiling. "I’d rather be anywhere else."

"... it’s better than sitting in jail?"

That was the worse thing you could've said

She smiled softly at that, her gaze lingering on him. There was something about his frustration, the way it came out in small bursts like this, that made her realise how much he had to give up—how much he was changing, just to make things right. Rafe looked up from his work, his eyes meeting hers for a moment, softening. 

"Yeah. I guess. I mean, you know, it helps that I have a good... um, a good reason to push through."

Why did you say that!?

Y/N’s stomach fluttered slightly at his words, her scrubbing at the dishes slowing down. She wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion from the night but there was something about the way he looked at her, like maybe they were on the same page for the first time in a while.

The quiet continued, comfortable, with the soft sounds of clinking dishes and the low hum of the kitchen light. She was focusing on the task at hand, but she couldn’t help stealing glances at Rafe. He was standing so close, just in his own element, drying plates and listening to her talk. 

"Thanks for sticking around," she said suddenly, her voice quieter now. "I know this is probably the last thing you wanted to do… stay at my place and help me with dishes."

Rafe met her gaze, his smile softening, and he shook his head. "No- it’s... nice. I like being here, with you. You make it... feel normal again, you know?"

I wish it was normal again

I wish it was normal again

Y/N paused, his words settling between them. She wasn’t sure why, but the simplicity of them hit her harder than she expected and she turned her back to him for a moment, pretending to scrub a dish a little harder than necessary.

"Yeah," she murmured, "I get that."

The rhythm of washing and drying dishes continued, the sounds of water running and plates clinking blending into the background. But Y/N couldn’t shake the thought that had been swirling in her mind for hours now. She couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine, like Rafe was just... okay with all of this. 

With her.

She placed the plate in her hands down a little harder than necessary, her breath catching for a second before she spoke up, her voice small.

“Rafe, I... I’m sorry I pulled you into all of this.” 

She glanced over at him, her chest tight as she tried to gather the right words. 

“I mean, this whole thing with Cooper and then taking him to court. And now you’re stuck doing this shitty community service because of me. I—" She shook her head, feeling that familiar weight of guilt press on her shoulders. "If I could go back, I wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have made you a part of any of this.”

There was a beat of silence, and her heart hammered in her chest. It felt like she had to say it, though. To get it out there, to finally apologise for everything she felt responsible for. But before she could continue, Rafe cut her off, his voice firm, but full of that comfort he always seemed to give her without even trying.

“Hey, c'mon- don’t do this” 

He said, looking at her with a soft but serious expression. He set the plate he was drying back down and stepped a little closer to her, reaching out gently to touch her arm. 

“It’s not your fault Y/n. None of this is on you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, her voice catching as she looked up at him, feeling the weight of the emotions she couldn’t quite keep in check. 

“But-”

“-No” 

Rafe interrupted, his eyes steady as he held her gaze. “Listen to me. This? It’s not on you. I’m doing this because I have to, yeah, it's a little shitty but I’m not doing it because of you, or because of some mess you dragged me into. I’m doing it because I want to make things right.”

She could feel her throat tighten, the words she had wanted to say now trapped. “I just feel like-"

“Y/N,” Rafe said her name softly, stepping even closer now, his voice lower and more intense. 

“Stop blaming yourself. I don’t want you to carry this weight. It’s not yours to carry.”

I know

She felt a lump form in her throat, the reassurance she’d been needing finally coming from him. She wanted to protest, but she knew, deep down, that he was right. “I’m sorry,” she whispered after a pause, trying to blink away the tears that had gathered at the edges of her eyes. 

“I just... I don’t want you to hate me for this.”

Hate you- ?

Rafe shook his head, his hand coming up to her face, thumb brushing lightly over the tear that had dropped down her cheek. 

"I could never hate you." 

His voice was low, steady, and certain, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N allowed herself to let go of that constant worry gnawing at her.

“You don’t have to apologise for anything, okay? I’m here for you. And I always will be.”

The sincerity in his voice hit her harder than she expected, and for a moment, she just stood there, letting his words sink in. The quiet between them was heavy with emotion, and all Y/N could do was nod, fighting the urge to bury her face in his chest, but holding herself back for fear of overwhelming him. Rafe took a slow step back, giving her a little space, but his eyes never left hers. 

“I’m serious, you don’t owe me an apology. We’re in this together, yeah?”

Y/N managed a small smile, her chest loosening just a fraction. “Yeah... together.”

“Good,” Rafe said, offering her that same soft smile. “Now cut out the distractions and finish those dishes”

She rolled her eyes, smile tugging at her lips. The last of the dishes were finally put away, and Y/N let out a small sigh of relief, wiping her hands on the dish towel. She turned to the table, where the remnants of their meal still sat- half-empty glasses, scattered napkins, a few crumbs left behind from the bread.

"Okay," she said, glancing at Rafe. "I'm going to move onto the table now."

Rafe, who had already started wiping his hands on a towel, nodded, shooting her a small, knowing smile. "Alright. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to use the bathroom."

Y/N gave him a quick nod, watching him as he turned to head out of the kitchen. She heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, the sound of the bathroom door closing gently behind him. For a moment, she stood there, looking at the table, unsure of where to start. It was always the little tasks that seemed the most mundane but were oddly soothing to her.

She grabbed the dishes one by one, stacking them up on the table, looking around at the surface deciding what to do next. The quiet of the house wrapped around her, but it didn’t feel heavy this time. Rafe’s presence lingered like a quiet warmth, and she found herself smiling softly, letting her thoughts drift. Y/N’s fingers paused in their movements as her phone buzzed from the edge of the table. She glanced over at it, instinctively reaching for it, her eyes immediately narrowing at the name flashing across the screen. 

Hale. 

Huh?

The lawyer who had represented her in the case against Cooper. She picked up the phone, her heart already starting to race as she unlocked it and opened the message. Her thumb hovered over the screen, reading the text in the dim light.

Y/N,  

I hope this message finds you well, though I wish I were writing under better circumstances. After careful consideration and discussions with your parents, they’ve expressed that it’s best I’m the one to share this news with you directly.  

Following a thorough review of the case and new information that has recently come to light, it’s become clear there were significant irregularities during the trial. Most notably, we’ve discovered that a considerable number of the jurors were brought in from New York- where the Miller family has influence. This raises serious concerns about the impartiality of the verdict, as it suggests the process may have been compromised.  

Additionally, two individuals from New York have come forward with allegations against Cooper, detailing experiences eerily similar to what you endured. Their testimony, along with authenticating evidence, suggests a pattern of behaviour that casts further doubt on the fairness of the original trial.  

With this in mind, we are formally requesting the reopening of your case. While this decision is not one I take lightly, I strongly believe that these new developments deserve the full weight of legal examination.  

I understand how overwhelming and painful this must be to hear, and I want to assure you that I will do everything I can to assure we get a verdict that is right. I will be in touch with updates as soon as I have them. In the meantime, please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything, whether it’s clarity on the process or just someone to talk to.  

You’ve already shown so much strength, Y/N, and I deeply regret that you’re being asked to find it once more.  

Warm regards,  

Charlotte Hale

Her heart pounded in her chest, a bitter mix of confusion and a deep-seated frustration swirling together. Y/N’s fingers trembled as she placed the phone back on the table, her gaze lingering on the screen as if she couldn’t fully process what she had just read. The words felt like a slap, a reminder of everything that had been taken from her. The case that she had fought so hard for, the justice she had convinced herself was possible, was now wrapped up in layers of corruption and bias she couldn’t ignore.

The case reopened? 

Her heart hammered in her chest as the anger began to rise. It wasn’t just disbelief now. It was fury- sharp and biting, gnawing at her insides. She had poured everything into this, had trusted the system, trusted the people she thought wanted to do right. And now this.

The verdict wasn’t fair?

She had been so close. So close to getting the closure she needed. And now… now, she didn’t even know if she could trust anything anymore.

This isn’t fair 

Her mind kept replaying the way Cooper had walked out of that courtroom, free, smug, like it had all been a game to him. And now, this. The truth. It felt like a cruel joke- one that she had been too naïve to see through. The weight of the phone on the table seemed to mock her now, a symbol of how little control she had in this whole mess. Y/N’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, her mind a storm of thoughts she couldn’t process fast enough. Anger burned through her veins, a fire that had been simmering for so long, and now it was finally exploding. She could feel it- hot, blistering rage, every part of her body trembling with it.

She stared at the phone, her vision blurring, anger twisting in her chest like a fist. It was all a setup. All of it. She had been the fool, who thought she would win the case because he was being truthful. Without thinking, her hand shot out, grabbing the glass in front of her. The crystal was cold and smooth in her grip. She squeezed it so hard her fingers burned, knuckles white. 

In one furious motion, she hurled it across the room.

The glass shattered against the wall with a sickening crack, fragments scattering like sharp confetti. The sound of it felt almost like a release. 

But it wasn’t enough.

Her breath hitched as she turned, her gaze wild, she grabbed the next thing within reach- a plate, its ceramic cold and fragile under her fingertips. With a force she didn’t know she had, she threw it, sending it hurtling toward the floor where it shattered in a loud, jarring explosion. The sound echoed through the room like the breaking of everything she had worked for, everything she had trusted.

The anger surged again, unstoppable. Her hand shot out once more, knocking over her wine glass, sending the red liquid splashing across the table, staining the cloth beneath. She didn’t care. She was shaking, tears hot and angry as they rolled down her face, mixing with the fury that refused to dissipate. She knocked over another plate, hearing it shatter on impact. She felt no relief. She was beyond that now. 

More glass. 

More plates. 

Her hands were raw from the force with which she threw each object, but it didn’t matter. She could hear the cracks and shattering as the world she thought she knew disintegrated in front of her, and the only thing she could do was rage against it.

“WHAT THE FUCK-” 

She screamed out as she sent another glass flying, this one hitting the wall with such force it burst into tiny, jagged pieces, some of the hitting against her clothing.

She could hardly breathe anymore. Her heart pounded, a wild drumbeat in her chest, she wiped at the tears blurring her vision, angry that she was even crying. But the weight of it, the crushing feeling of being tricked, being lied to, was too much.

The table and the floor surrounding it was now a mess of broken glass and scattered debris. Her hands trembled, her pulse racing, but she was still moving- throwing, smashing, letting it all spill out in the only way she knew how.

Her breathing was frantic, her chest tightening as her body shook with the force of the emotions that had been building up. This wasn’t just about Cooper. This wasn’t just about the case. It was about feeling small, helpless, like nothing she did could ever change the outcome. She was drowning in it.

The sound of crashing glass echoed through the house, a juxtaposition to the tranquility that lingered moments before. Rafe’s head snapped up from the bathroom doorway as the sharp noises rang in his ears. His heartbeat quickened, and before he could even process it, his feet were carrying him down the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The sight that greeted him when he reached the dining room made him stop dead in his tracks.

Shit

Y/N stood in the middle near the table, surrounded by the wreckage of shattered glass, ceramic and scattered debris. Her breathing was ragged, each intake of air coming in harsh, shallow bursts. She was shaking, her hands trembling at her sides, the furious anger that had consumed her only moments before now replaced with a hollow, devastated kind of exhaustion.

For a long moment, Rafe stood frozen in the doorway, his heart racing. He had never seen her like this- there was nothing left of the composed girl he’d seen all night. He stepped forward cautiously, his footsteps tentative as he moved through the mess of broken glass and spilled wine. 

“Y/N…” 

Talk to me please

He called softly, but she didn’t react, her gaze fixed on the floor as she stood amidst the destruction, the room echoing with the remnants of her rage. She didn’t even seem to register him at first, her body trembling uncontrollably, her face a mask of anger and pain. Rafe’s stomach clenched at the sight, his instincts kicking in. He didn’t even think about it as he moved forward to her. Slowly, her gaze lifted to meet his, her tear-filled eyes searching his face as if she were seeing him for the first time. 

“Everything was a set up” 

She choked out, the words broken and uneven as she sobbed. Rafe’s breath caught,

 “What do you mean… what’s going on?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she took a shaky step forward, stumbling slightly before she collapsed into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her to his chest, and she melted against him, the sobs wracking her frame.

“Y/N, talk to me” 

Rafe urged, his voice tight with confusion and concern. He could feel the shaking in her body, the way her entire being seemed to tremble with everything she was holding in. 

“What do you mean it was a set up angel?”

“The case… The jury… It was all rigged, Rafe… They knew Cooper’s family… It wasn’t fair…” 

She tried to speak but could barely get the words out. Her voice cracked, and her tears soaked into the fabric of his clothing, her body trembling violently as if the weight of it all was too much to hold. As Y/N continued to cling to him, Rafe’s gaze dropped to her hands. The sight made his stomach turn- her palms were covered in small, jagged cuts, blood trickling from the shards of glass that had embedded themselves in her skin.

“Shit” 

He muttered, his voice low with urgency but he didn’t react to his words. Rafe didn’t hesitate. Slowly, carefully, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her body against his chest, her shaky form against him. She didn’t fight it; she just let him move her, her head resting against his shoulder, her sniffles filling the otherwise quiet air.

“C’mon” 

He mumbled, gently guiding them to the kitchen. He sat her down on the counter, his hands on her waist as he steadied her. She looked at him, eyes still red and puffy, but she didn’t say anything. There were no words left in her, just the quiet sound of her sobs and the air between them. Rafe turned on the tap, running water over his hands, the cool stream contrasting sharply with the heat in the room. He grabbed a rag, wringing it out before gently dabbing it against her hands. The wet cloth was soothing against the cuts, and he could tell by the way she flinched slightly that it hurt, but she didn’t protest.

The silence between them was heavy, only broken by the soft sound of her sniffling as he carefully wiped the blood from her skin. He worked in silence, his focus entirely on her, on making sure she was okay, even though he didn’t have the answers to the mess she was feeling.

He stood between her open legs, his body close enough that he could hear every hitch in her breath, every tremble that ran through her limbs. His hands were gentle but firm as he continued to clean the cuts on her palms, brushing away the remaining chips of glass with careful fingers.

“I’m sorry” 

Why are you sorry?

She whispered suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was raw, cracked, and her eyes were glazed over, lost in something he couldn’t reach, and they were locked on his hands, orking against her sore palms. Rafe shook his head, not looking up at her. 

“It’s okay.”

No its not there's something wrong with me

She didn’t respond, just continued to sniffle quietly, the tears still slipping down her cheeks. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease swirling in his chest. He focused on her hands, on the delicate, small movements of his fingers as he finished cleaning them, his thumb gently brushing against the skin of her wrist. Y/N’s eyes met his gaze filled with so many emotions- grief, anger, exhaustion.

When he finished, he put the rag down, his hands resting lightly on her knees, his fingers gently brushing over her skin. For a moment, they just stayed like that- silent, still- before he lifted his eyes to hers, his expression soft. 

“Better?”

She nodded slowly, her gaze shifting away from him, though her hands were still in her lap, the cuts visible, but the bleeding stopped for now.

“Thank you.”

She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Rafe gave her a small nod, he wanted to say more, wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he knew those words wouldn’t be enough, it wasn’t a promise he could make. Instead, he let the silence hang between them, letting her breathe, letting her process everything that had happened.

Yet deep down, he promised himself that no matter what, he’d be there for her- just like before. 

Rafe set the damp cloth down on the counter, his fingers brushing against her knee as he took a step back. He looked at her, still perched on the counter, her hands now bandaged but trembling slightly in her lap. Her eyes were downcast, the weight of the evening still pulling her shoulders down like she was carrying it all alone.

“Let’s get you upstairs- you need to rest…”

He said gently, his voice soft but firm. Y/N shook her head weakly, her gaze flickering toward the mess in the dining room. 

“I need to… to clean up. I can’t—”

I can't believe I did that. . .

“-hey,” Rafe cut her off, stepping closer again, his voice low but steady.

“No, you don’t. I’ll take care of it, but you need to stop Y/N. Let me take care of you.”

Her lips parted, like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out. She was too tired, too drained to fight him, even if the guilt of leaving the mess weighed on her. She barely had time to process before his hands were under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her off the counter. A small, surprised breath escaped her, but she didn’t resist, her body instinctively curling into his, her legs subconsciously wrapping around his hips. Her head rested against his shoulder, tucked into the crook of his neck, and she felt the soft scratch of his shirt against her cheek. One arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders while the other rested against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric for support.

“I’ve got you” 

Rafe murmured, his voice steady and reassuring as he adjusted his grip on her. The warmth of his voice and the solidness of his hold made something in her chest ease, just a fraction. She pushed her face slightly further against his neck, her breath warm and shallow against his skin. Rafe carried her up the stairs like she weighed nothing, each step slow and measured, his arms secure around her. The house was quiet, save for the soft creak of the stairs beneath his feet and the faint rustle of her hair against his shoulder.

When they reached her bedroom, Rafe pushed the door open with his foot and stepped inside, careful not to jostle her. He gently set her down onto the bed, her head sinking into the plush pillow as she let out a small hum. He moved carefully, as though afraid he might shatter the fragile calm that had settled over the room. Leaning down, he grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it over her, tucking it around her slightly with care.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes flickering over her face. She looked worn out, her cheeks flushed from the tears she’d shed, but there was something softer about her now. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and he felt himself freeze under the weight of it.

“You okay?” 

No

He asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. She hummed softly in response, her eyelids heavy but still watching him. Rafe swallowed hard, forcing himself to straighten. His hand, which had been resting on her arm over the covers, lingered for a second too long before he pulled it back.

“Alright, I’ll, uh…” He stepped back, clearing his throat as he tried to give her space. “I’ll let you rest. Just—” Before he could move further, her fingers reached out, gently wrapping around his hand. Her voice was soft, hesitant, but it stopped him in his tracks.

“Can you stay…?”

Please don't say no

Rafe blinked, caught off guard by her request. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he nodded slowly, his voice tentative, 

“Yeah… yeah, I can sit here.”

He gestured toward the floor next to the bed, already moving to lower himself, but her voice stopped him again.

“No, can you…” She trailed off, her gaze darting away briefly before returning to his. 

“Can you sit on the bed?”

On the bed?

Rafe stilled, unsure for a moment. He hesitated, his mind racing- he didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. But the look in her eyes was enough to convince him.

“Okay” 

He responded softly, nodding again. He moved around to the other side of the bed and sat down cautiously on the edge, leaving space between them. His weight shifted the mattress slightly as, but he kept his distance, his back pressed against the headboard, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

She nestled deeper into the pillow, her breathing evening out just a little as the tension began to drain from her frame. Y/n was on her side, her back to him, her figure curled slightly beneath the duvet. Her breathing was slow and even now, and for a moment, he thought she might’ve fallen asleep. He let himself relax just a little, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. But then her soft voice broke the silence.

“Rafe?”

His head tilted forward immediately, his focus snapping back to her. 

“Yeah?” 

His voice was quiet, laced with concern. There was a pause, and he watched the subtle rise and fall of her back as she inhaled shakily. 

“Can you come a little closer?” 

She asked, her voice quiet. Rafe froze. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right.  He blinked, his heart picking up speed in his chest.

Move closer?

“Are you sure?” 

He asked softly, cautious. He didn’t want to move if she wasn’t completely comfortable. She nodded, her head shifting slightly against the pillow. 

“Please…” 

She whispered, her voice cracking just a little. That single word unraveled him. Swallowing hard, he shifted carefully, inching closer to her, he slid fully onto the bed now, sitting up with his back against the headboard, a few inches away from her.

She didn’t move right away, her back still turned to him. But he could see her shoulders rising and falling, her breaths uneven, like she was fighting to hold herself together. He hesitated, staying on top of the covers. His eyes lingered on her back, on the way her figure seemed so small, so fragile in the dim light of the room. 

He cared for her so deeply it almost hurt.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, save for her soft breaths and the occasional rustle of fabric as she shuffled slightly. He didn’t move any closer, didn’t touch her, but his presence was steady, grounding. And even with her back to him, he didn’t look away, his heart aching for her in ways he couldn’t quite put into words. Y/N lay still, her back to Rafe, but her mind raced. She wanted to say something- needed to- but the words felt caught in her throat, tangled with her fears and doubts. She shifted slightly, her fingers clutching the edge of the duvet, and took a shallow breath. 

“Rafe” 

She mumbled again. He frowned slightly, leaning his head toward her. 

“What is it, Angel?” 

His voice was soft, concerned at the sudden sound of her voice again. She hesitated, her chest tightening as her thoughts swirled. 

What if it is too much? 

What if I scare him away? 

But the ache for comfort, for safety, outweighed her fears. She tried again, her voice trembling. “Can you—” She stopped, clamping her lips shut.

“Can I what?” 

Rafe prompted gently, his brow furrowing as he tried to meet her eyes, even though her back was still turned. Her heart pounded in her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shaky breath, she forced the words out, barely audible. 

“Could you… can you hold me - please?”

Oh

Rafe stiffened, his chest tightening as her words hung in the air. He looked down at her, the tension in her voice cutting straight through him. “Y/N…” he started, his voice trailing off as his mind churned.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…I don’t want to-”

“I trust you.” 

She responded to his cautious response, her voice breaking slightly as she cut him off. 

“Please. I just… I just really need this right now.”

The crack in her voice, the vulnerability in her words; it caused his jaw to clench as he wrestled with his thoughts. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to risk pushing her too far, what if he triggered a bad memory, what if he reminded her of what had happened. But then again, how could he say no to her when she needed him like this? Finally, he exhaled, shifting slightly on the bed. 

“Alright. . .” 

He moved slowly, deliberately, as though afraid to startle her. Sliding down beside her, he positioned himself carefully, his chest lightly brushing her back. His arm hovered above her for a moment, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, before he gently draped it around her waist.

“Is this okay?” 

He asked, his voice barely audible. She nodded against the pillow, her breaths still shaky but steadying slightly as his warmth enveloped her. She whispered back to him,

“It’s perfect.”

Please don't let go

His heart panged in his chest as he felt her relax ever so slightly in his hold. He adjusted his arm, pulling her just a little closer, his hand resting lightly on her side. The curve of her back pressed into him, and he could feel the tension in her frame begin to ease. They stayed like that in silence, the soft rhythm of their breathing syncing. Rafe pressed his cheek against the pillow, his eyes fixed on the back of her head, her hair brushing his face slightly, the scent of her shampoo familiar, comforting.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t dare move, afraid to disrupt this newfound sense of intimacy between them. All he could do was hold her and hope that it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[leonw4nter]

She Likes The Way It Feels When He’s Right There

ID!Leon x F!Reader

“Mom, for the last time, I don’t want to go on a date with him!” You emphasize for what seemed like the nth time that night. Inviting Hunnigan over for dinner with your mom causes regret to pool in the depths of your belly; she doesn’t need to be around to hear you and your mom argue over your love life. Work was already stressful and your mom is piling up on that tall tower of things that plague your mind. You keep your head hung low, gaze trained on a piece of quinoa on your plate with your fork poking at it as you feel your attention slipping away, making no effort to rein it back in if it means not hearing your mom ramble on about having kids and settling down with someone.

“Y/N? Y/N.” Your mom’s voice snaps you back to reality, bringing you back down to this godforsaken dinner. “Did you hear what I just said?”

You temporarily shut your eyes, fingers stiffly curling over your fork. Deep breaths, breathe in and out, don’t flip the table over like a crazy person.

“No, I didn’t. I was busy thinking about work,” you grumbled in a low voice.

“I was just saying that he makes a good amount of money, maybe a little more than you do. It’ll be greatly beneficial for you,” she urged you. You love your mom, you really do, but there's a time where she gets a little suffocating for you and still acts as if you’re 13, not 30.

“What are you suggesting, mom? My job is just fine and I don’t need a man to rely on for money or my future or anything at all!” You snap, forgetting that your friend is in the same room as you are right now. Hunnigan comfortingly places a hand at your back, causing you to jump a little bit before relaxing down and taking a forkful of your dinner even if your appetite is almost gone.

“Ma’am,” Hunnigan begins, placing her elbows on the table and interlocking her fingers together. “I think whoever Y/N should get with is entirely up to her– that is, if she wants someone in her life. You may be her mother but you don’t have control over how she lives and besides, she’s a grown woman.”

Your mom shuts up, her lips pressed into a thin, burgundy line. For the first time in what felt like forever, silence befalls over the three of you on the dining table. “I was her age once so I know what she’s going through. I’m just giving her suggestions on how to secure a stable future because that’s what I want for her–”

“Well, mom, surprise: I’m still not going to see him. I’m doing just fine and–”

“Y/N–”

“I’m seeing someone, okay? I have someone else!"

Those words shock everyone, including you, even if you’re quite literally the one who said that. Your mouth moved faster than your mind could move, spouting nonsense in desperation to cut this draining conversation. Hunnigan reaches over for a napkin, blotting her mouth and trying to keep her coughing subtle and quiet after choking on her white wine. Even while dabbing at her mouth and still making an active effort to keep her coughing at a minimum, her eyes are wide and bore right into you with heightened interest.

“Who are you seeing then?” Your mom breaks the silence.

“Leon,” you promptly answered. All of a sudden you’re self-conscious, worried that she’ll sense your fib and call you out. You want to smash that bottle of wine against your head and knock yourself unconscious and wistfully get sent into another existence, going missing until everyone forgets you ever existed. It’s too late to take that back now, you really had to name-drop instead of saying “someone from work”. This is going to be one hell of a dinner and even more one hell of a talk with Hunnigan.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Were you being for real?” Hunnigan asked. She has her arms crossed, red glasses placed on her head amongst ebony curls.

“No… we aren’t anything. Just friends,” you regretfully admitted. You rest your head against your desk, cheek in contact with the cold surface.

Hunnigan giggles, grabbing the empty office chair beside you and scoots closer. “Really. ‘Just friends’, my ass. I see the way you look at him– heart eyes and all.”

You close your eyes and groan even louder, burying your face in your hands as you recall that fuck-up from last night. She wasn’t wrong about the heart eyes; you’ve harbored feelings towards that man for years now but you were always too much of a chicken to confess your feelings. Besides, this guy probably has someone in his heart– this fact shouldn’t hurt but it kind of does but who are you to dictate who he should love?

“You’re being so helpful right now, Ingrid. Thanks a lot,” you croaked.

“Why’d you even say his name in the first place? Could’ve gone with Patrick, he and Leon are in the same department.”

Boom. Could’ve said I was seeing Patrick instead… why’d it have to be that man with his stupidly pretty blue eyes and stupidly perfect, pink lips and his stupidly smooth voice and his stupidly charming smile…

“Well– Leon and I are friends, of course he somehow popped up in my mind first! And last night was not one of my brightest moments, okay? People make mistakes!”

Ingrid laughed like it was the funniest joke she’s ever heard, leaning back into the chair and crossing her arms.

“It’s not like your mom’s going to be content with just hearing you date someone. She’s going to ask for proof and probably ask to see him, knowing her.”

“I know! I know, it’s just… imagine going up to Leon and just saying the stupidest thing ever–”

“What stupid thing are you going to say to me?” Leon suddenly chimes in. You shoot up, almost stumbling backwards in the sheer speed you just exhibited. His sudden intrusion causes explosions of pink to burst on your cheeks, eyes to be wide.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” he chuckles. I wish I was a ghost right now. I need to be 6 feet below ground.

“You’ll be in charge of keeping Y/N company the entire afternoon, Kennedy. I’ve got papers at my desk,” Hunnigan explains with a sly smirk. “Catch you later.” Leon throws her a thumbs up and as he turns around, she shoots you a wink. I swear, Hunnigan, I’m so going to throw hands with you!

“Don’t you have work to do?” You ask Leon.

“Nope. Finished them all yesterday,” he replied.

“Briefings?”

“Just came out of the last one earlier.”

“Training the rookies?”

“They don’t have training today.”

“Missions?”

“Won’t be in one as far as I know.”

Fuck he’s going to be with me all day… but didn’t I secretly wish for this…?

“What’s up with all the questions?” Leon asks. “You’re being weird today but then again, it’s not like you’re never weird.”

“Oh shut up.” You exclaim. Despite his joke, you remembered that part of Leon’s job includes being able to read people in terms of their body language which means that he would pick up whenever you were nervous around him. This is not my day.

“Well you’re always busy. It’s just new to see you not doing something,” you retort. You try to adjust your body language, making sure you look a lot less secretive and tense than you were earlier.

“And you’re the one busier than me this time,” he observes, tilting his head to the papers stacked on your desk. “I can help out if you want. They’re just reports right?”

“Um, yeah. I could use the help. That one’s the finished pile, the one beside it is the one that needs checking.”

“On it, ma’am.”

Shit that was kinda hot.

He takes a pencil from your mug and sets it right in front of him before taking a portion of the unfinished stack and placing it on the empty desk beside yours. He distances himself from you, brows furrowed in focus. He gets up and takes off his navy blue blazer, draping it over the back of his chair. If you think that was hot, he also proceeds to roll the sleeves of his crisp, white button-up up until his elbows, veins deliciously adorning his arms. His arms are straining against the fabric, ripples of his muscle bulging beneath. Leon, I swear to God, I’m going to get nothing done if you do my paperwork looking like an absolute snack– no, a 5-star Michelin meal that I can never, ever afford.

“Sight-seeing, I see.”

His voice snaps you from your swirl of diabolical thoughts, grounding you again.

“I wasn’t.”

“Your eyes on my hands told me otherwise.”

“Fuck off! Just do the paperwork!”

He simply smirks and chuckles to himself before really starting on the paperwork, blue eyes focused on the dark ink on paper, occasionally marking things. Lord have mercy, please, I just want to get work done.

Taking a deep breath, you take your own stack of papers and start work; it would be hypocritical if you kept urging Leon to work but you were just busy shamelessly drinking in your friend’s arms. Right. We’re just friends.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Since two people worked on the papers, you managed to get them done faster than you thought. After dropping them off at your boss’ desk, you head back to your cubicle to get your things ready before clocking out for the day. Leon had already finished getting his things together and changed into black bootcut jeans and a black leather jacket over his white long sleeves, black helmet on the nook of his arm since he rode his bike home.

“You wanna ride?” Leon asks, which causes you to raise your eyebrows and smirk. “On my bike, I meant. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Of course I know what you mean, dumbass. And as much as I want to, I brought my car to work so… I’ll pass for now. Thanks though.”

He nods, before setting his helmet aside, and helping you pack your things even if they aren’t much. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

You two walk out of the dark office and make your way out of the building, heading for the parking lot. Just before you get into your car, he speaks up. 

“So… you know how Valentine’s Day is highly commercialized?” he begins.

“Mhm. What about it?” you asked.

“There’s this high-end restaurant downtown and they’ve got good food at the cost of a wallet-decimating bill. They’ve got a discount for couples who dine there and… I was wondering if you’d wanna come along with me as a fake date. It’ll be easy on the pocket with the discount they’re offering.”

Your eyes widen, warmth creeping up from your back and settle at the nape of your neck. It’s not like he’s even asking you out on an actual dinner date, the man just wants to have dinner that’s easy on the pockets… even if he’s out here riding on the latest model of a Ducati but he still asked you out, instead of other women in the agency– women who have fuller hips and better hair than you do. Women who you think have a better chance of catching his eye anyways.

“That sounds nice. Um, yeah sure. I’m free. I’m assuming that this is going to be on the 14th?”

“Yep. So uh… I guess that’s a date then?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

The air turned slightly awkward, you two just standing around awkwardly with gazes either downcast or focused on something else.

“I’ll- I’ll go now, Leon. Um, bye!” you say.

“Uh, bye. Get home safe and goodnight,” he responds.

With a small nod, you get in your car and start it. Buckling your seatbelt, you pull out of your parking spot and drive home. You noticed that Leon stayed behind, making sure he got to see you leave before you catch a quick glimpse of his bike’s lights from your rear-view mirror.

You still felt kind of awkward around Leon especially with last night’s mortifying cover story but luckily his chill demeanor made you feel less on the edge. You thought about all the times he made you feel flustered: when he switched places with you on the sidewalk so he’d be the one on the outer part instead; when he ran to a convenience store to get you pads and new underwear when you bled while at work; see him interacting with one of your coworker’s kids; when he pretended to be your boyfriend when several drunk guys were trying to hit on you at a bar; the endless pet names he’d give you. Sometimes it felt like flirting but you know that Leon likes to joke with anyone; maybe you’re just looking too much into things and this is just a manifestation of your growing feelings for him. It’s hard not to fall for your best friend when he’s more than just good looks and his stupid jokes and beneath those he’s a truly brave man– probably the bravest man you’ve ever met. He’s stupidly selfless; in most situations where you’d probably run away and save yourself, he’d stay behind to finish the job at the cost of his life. He’s still standing firm at the faces of mind-bending horrors, doing this because “if no one does then who will”, as he always said. He probably has someone to fight for that’s why he’s this dedicated, even if he was forced into this kind of work. With a sigh, you turn up the volume on your radio and force all your thoughts to the back of your head; you’ll bring them out again later when you get home, accompanied with a cold beer.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“So let me get this straight: Leon asked you out for dinner?” Hunnigan’s voice comes out of your laptop.

“Yep.” you respond.

“And you two will go as a fake couple to be able to get that discount because the food is normally expensive.”

“Mhm.”

“Listen, girl. I’ve known Leon longer than you have and it’s not like he’ll just ask random women out to be his fake date.”

“He didn’t ask me to be his fake date, he just asked me to come along with him.”

“Think about it: he could’ve asked anyone. He could’ve asked me or Ashley or Shen Mei but he chose to ask you! This is something!”

“It’s nothing. Besides, I was the only one at the parking lot with him so he asked since I was the nearest.”

“Dude! He was free the whole day! He had plenty of time to look for anyone else but he chose you!”

“He wasn’t exactly free since I had him help me out with reports.”

Hunnigan lets out an exasperated sigh at the other end of the call, probably frustrated that your negative thinking is getting the best of you. The both of you stay silent for a bit, nursing your beer before taking a small sip.

“Well, regardless of whatever he thinks of me, I’m going to enjoy dinner. It wouldn’t hurt to think about it as a friendly get-together, y’know,” you speak up.

“It would hurt, Y/N. I know you; you’ll probably get home and blast your greatest heartbreak hits or something,” Hunnigan points out. You bite your lip, not even making an effort to tell her she’s wrong when she’s painfully right– you’d sulk and just berate yourself for being so pathetic with these feelings.

“You know, you should just ask Leon what you are to him. Tell him you’re not happy with all the meaningless flirting if he’s doing that with non-romantic intentions. I’m sure he’d just apologize and beat himself up over it.”

You stay silent for a little longer, thinking about Hunnigan’s words. You’re an agent, for God’s sakes– you‘re supposed to be comfortable with confronting people and you are… just not with Leon but why? What are you so afraid of? For Leon to be distant from you and your friendship fizzling out into nothing? Maybe. Just maybe.

“Yeah. You’re right. Thanks girl, that was really good advice.”

“Hey, no problem. You can always count on me with your boy problems.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Several days after that call, you managed to get out of work quite early. There wasn’t much to do since all papers that you and Leon did a few days ago were already good and there weren’t agents under your watch that were on overseas missions so you got off early. Since Leon offered to give you a ride to work on his bike, you didn’t bring your car along so you’ll commute going back home if you were to clock out earlier than him. You looked around for Leon, telling him that you were going to go home early to get yourself ready for the dinner “date” later this evening. You spotted him in the break room with a few other agents, chatting with Patrick.

“Leon, hey. I’ll be heading home now since I don’t have anything else to do. See you later.” You say with a small smile as you peeked around the door frame. Everyone turned from their conversations to look at you, then looked back at him.

“I can send you home, since I’m free too,” he offered. Though your gaze was on him, you could spot other agents with smirks on their faces.

“Yeah, Leon. We can take it from here, you can go out with Y/N. It’s Valentine’s Day too,” Shen Mei adds. She gives the agent beside her a small nudge with her elbow, shooting them a knowing look before shifting her eyes back to you.

“Are you okay with it, Y/N?” Leon asks. Though his voice sounds relaxed, you can see a hint of something that flashed in his eyes that you can’t quite put a finger on.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you respond.

You swear you see Leon’s face light up when you say yes, instantly moving from where he was and going closer to you. “Let’s go.” he softly says. You don’t miss the ghost of his touch hovering over your waist, causing your heart to relentlessly pound against your ribcage. You bite back a small smile, chewing on the inside of your cheek and hoping that your cheeks don’t turn pink.

Now you two are in the parking lot, standing beside his bike. He hands you your own helmet while he wears his own, offering you his leather jacket, which you take anyways. Protection, he says.

“Hey, I think it’ll be a bit boring if you just head home so why don’t we do some things before dinner?” he suggested, putting his gloves on.

“What things?” You mused.

He averts his gaze for a little bit before continuing on, looking a little shy with his movements. “Maybe a visit to the park would be nice,” he offers in a small voice.

His sudden shyness makes you smile a little, a quiet giggling bubbles from your throat but you take his suggestion nevertheless.

“Sounds like a plan,” you say.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The afternoon was fun; you two went to the park and took nice pictures of the view, though you noticed that Leon’s pictures were mainly of you but you didn’t mind it. You also suggested having ice cream and going to an empty playground, the sight of two adults on the swings and having the time of their lives both silly and wholesome. Of course, he sent you home safe and made sure to come back in 2 hours to pick you up for dinner. This time, he said that he’ll be using his car so that the wind won’t ruin your clothes. Immediately, you dashed to your room and picked out a dress and heels that you’ll wear for the dinner while also planning the make-up look you’re going for and figuring out what hairstyle you’ll be doing. An hour later, you shower and get dressed; the dress you chose hugged your body well, which made you feel a little more confident in yourself. You got your hair styled and your make-up done, opting to do it a little different than you usually do. After getting ready, you sent pictures of yourself to Hunnigan. In response, she sent so many voice messages of encouragement where she’s practically screaming. After a few minutes of waiting, Leon calls to let you know that he’s waiting outside.

You walk out and see him leaning on the hood of his car, an elegant arrangement of flowers on one hand.

“Hey,” you softly say. He turns around and faces you, taking a hand out of his trouser’s pocket. It’s as if his eyes have the moon and stars on them, his face lighting up when he sees you. He lets go of a breath he didn’t know he held, a subtle pinkness dusting his cheeks as he places a hand on your waist and leads you to the passenger side of the car. He walks over to his side and opens up the door, taking his time in staring at you for a little more.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mutters in a low voice that’s something else entirely, his words coming out with a slight rasp.

Now it’s your turn to feel flustered; why wear blusher on your cheeks when you have Leon to keep a blush on your cheeks all night long?

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself, you know.”

He turns his attention to the steering wheel before he remembers to give you the bouquet, that dorky smile of his completing his look.

“Here, got you these. Just because this isn’t an actual date doesn’t mean I won’t put effort into it.”

Here we go again with another game of “is he into me or am I just looking into things too much?”.

“Thanks. These look really pretty,” you observe. You noticed that the flowers didn’t make you sneeze or cause your face to itch, much to your surprise.

“I remembered how you have allergies to flowers so I got ones that didn’t trigger an allergic reaction so I’m glad that turned out well.”

Oh. Oh.

Oh boy were you in deep. Leon Scott Kennedy, he’s really more than just a pretty face and dad jokes. He even remembers the little things. Gosh, I’m in deep.

“That’s… that’s really thoughtful of you, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. So… shall we?”

“We shall.”

He starts the car and drives you two to the restaurant he talked about. During the entire ride, you noticed how his eyes wouldn’t stop flitting from the road and to you. You joked about keeping his eyes in front of him and how they can take their time admiring you during red lights or when you finally get to the dinner. You two sat in comfortable silence, sweet music coming from the radio filling in for the stillness inside the car. He stops at a red light, fingers drumming on the sleek leather of the steering wheel.

“Can I be honest with you, Y/N?” he suddenly asks.

You nod, turning your head to face him. “What is it?”

“I don’t want this to be a dinner between coworkers or friends.”

His words yank the breath from your chest, the inside of your mouth feeling a little parched. You can hear the thundering of your heart in your ears, drowning out the song on the radio.

“Huh?”

“Does this seem fake to you?”

“Yes– well, no– I mean–”

“I’m going to say it now while we’re not there yet: all this isn’t just for a discount.”

You go silent, thoughts disappearing and trying to piece things together. What does he mean by “does this seem fake” and “all this isn’t just for a discount”?

“What are you trying to tell me, Leon?”

“I heard you and Hunnigan days ago. You like me. I overheard you talking to her about your mom wanting you to see someone and then you blurting out that you were seeing me as a way to escape being set-up with some dude.”

Shit! He heard! I’m going to dive head-first into a cement-mixer right now. Argrhaghrag–

“I knew and heard that, that’s why I didn’t press any further.”

Didn’t press any further? Didn’t press with– Oh. He didn’t press any further when he suddenly piped in with his “what stupid thing are you going to tell me?” question because he already heard all the context he needed. He was just polite by not telling me he heard Every. Single. Thing.

“Listen, Leon. I’m so sorry– I was not thinking when I suddenly blurted that, I hope you don’t feel harassed or anything–”

“I like you, Y/N. That’s why I asked you, you specifically. I could’ve gone to dinner with anyone else but I didn’t.”

He runs a hand through brown locks, soft strands sifted through slender fingers.

“I asked you to dinner under the guise of wanting to take advantage of this day’s commercialization but I lied. There isn’t even a discount, actually. I just want dinner with you. The food really is great but I don’t think it’ll taste as great as eating it with someone I love.”

And to think that you didn’t expect him to ever like you.

“I don’t just want us to be friends, Y/N. Unless you think otherwise, then I’ll respect it.”

You two just sit there in total silence, some 80s romantic song serving as background music for whatever magical moment is happening right now. Leon looks a little more anxious now, sapphires shifting between your eyes and lips.

“I feel the same way too, Leon, and I don’t just want this to be a fake dinner– not ever. I just didn’t think that you’d actually get feelings for me when there’s all those other women in the office,” you shyly admit.

“I’m in love with you and you only, Y/N. They’re not you.”

Those words set off a reaction similar to a factory reset in your mind and suddenly, you don’t have a single thought and you’re not thinking before moving. You lean in from the passenger seat and with a silent prayer that his windows are tinted (highly likely they are), your hand finds its way into his blazer. You bunch the fabric up and draw him in for a kiss, shutting your eyes. You feel him tense up a little bit before he relaxes into your touch, a calloused hand reaching to cup your cheek. The soft smack of lips can be heard inside the car before you pull away, half-lidded eyes staring straight into inky pupils that swallowed all the blue in his eyes. Your gaze is downcast, admiring the glossy smear of your pink lip gloss on his lips.

“I bet I look real good with your kiss,” he rasps with a small smirk.

“I bet you’ll look better without these later,” you hinted while eyeing his suit, giving him a wink.

“Oh?”

This was not how you thought your dinner night would play out but you didn’t mind.

NOTE - Finally done with 3/4 Valentine's fics!!! Personally, I don't think anyone's getting me anything for Valentine's Day but a girlie can continue to dream :') I finally got to see my grades and I'm really happy with how it turned out-- all my grades (except for one subject-- WHICH IS NOT MATH surprisingly) went up by several percent so I hope I get to do the same thing this quarter!!!! Anyways, that's it and thank you for reading this fic!!!!! I <;333333 U

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[luizd3ad]

Game Time | Poly!Bartylus x GN!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader x Regulus Black

WC: 700

CW: swearing, mentions of Bartys dad 🤢, modern AU, mistreatment of Sims, anxiety

Author's Note: Honestly I just got this idea bc my sims hyper fixation is coming back. The little bit of French that’s in here I got from google please tell me if it’s wrong.

Summary: Regulus comes home to you and Barty playing the sims.

Someone tell me to stop making theses for ever fic please. I won't listen but someone should still tel me.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Regulus had spent the day with Sirius, just catching up. 

They've been finding it harder to do so since leaving Hogwarts so they try to make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. 

He did enjoy spending time with his brother but right now all he wanted to do was go home to his partners. 

You and Barty were like a breath of fresh air to him after his social battery was drained. Just being in the presence of both of you was enough to make him feel better. 

Regulus finally crossed the threshold to his shared flat. He took his shoes and jacket off at the entrance and put them in their designated places.

But then he noticed the flat was quiet which was rare considering Barty lived there.

“Mon amours? I’m home?”

Regulus called out looking around the flat curiously. 

No one was in the living room. He didn't hear anyone in the kitchen. 

He started walking down the hall that held their shared bedroom and the guest room/ office when he heard them.

“Angel, I love you but you're wrong!”

“Watch it Crouch! Or you'll end up in the basement next..”

Regulus was only slightly taken back when he heard his partner say that to their boyfriend. 

Honestly it wouldn't be the first time he heard them say something like that.

Barty then gasped and started shirking something about ‘Never feeling so betrayed’ which was something Barty would say often. 

Regulus took a deep breath mentally preparing himself and then opened the door to the office, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight in front of him.

There they were, the loves of his life hunched over the computer playing the muggle game that Remus had shown them.

‘The Sims’ he thinks it was called, but he couldn't quite remember. 

“Barty.. Did you take the ladder out of the pool again?”

Barty then gasped as if the thought was inconceivable. 

“What would make you think such a thing, angel?”

“I mean other than the fact that you've done it before? The sim’s name is Bartemius Crouch and he looks exactly like your father.”

Barty then giggles looking proud of himself. 

“Leave him there he deserves it.”

Barty says with a wide smile.

Regulus chuckles a little louder this time and shakes his head finally catching the attention of his partners.

You and Barty both turn your heads to look at Regulus. 

You send him a big smile and say.

“Hi my love, how's Sirius?”

“Sirius is fine. Now what are you two doing?”

Regulus say still standing in the doorway of the room.

“I'm trying to show our darling boyfriend that there's more to The Sims than killing the people that you wish you could kill in real life.”

“And I'm trying to show our angel that killing people in the game is the most fun you can have.”

“Wait, so you make the characters people you actually know?”

You and Barty look at each other and then look at Regulus with raised eyebrows.

“Obviously.”

Barty says looking at Regulus like it should be common sense.

“Wait so you have a character of me?”

“Of course we do.”

You say then turning back to the computer clicking on the mouse a few times and then waving Regulus over to show him a big house with sims of the three of you.

“Is this supposed to be our house?”

“Yes. Unfortunately we’re not all technically dating on here, since that's not an option.”

You explain while Barty crosses his arms while pouting and saying.

“Which is stupid.” 

Regulus just smiles at Barty and kisses his head. 

“It’s okay ​mon beau because we’re dating in real life.”

Regulus says while running his hand through his boyfriend's hair.

You and Barty spent the rest of the night showing Regulus your favorite parts of the game. 

Regulus found himself having a good time whether it was just because he got to spend time with the two of you or because he actually found the game entertaining he didn't know nor did he care.

He was just content and happy to be there.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

[ma1dita]

heavy hitter

part one can be found here!

this was a request, find it here!

words: 3.5k (yall im so sorry)

summary: james potter x beater!reader James might’ve won the game, but he needs to let people know he has the girl too.

warnings: smut. minors DNI. afab!reader, p in v, pwp, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap) locker room sex, creampie, oral (m!receiving) reader is a brat… this is nasty don’t look at me (jesus tagging this is crazy)

a/n: …. what plot? i wanted to write angst again but got bored so… *jazz hands* erm…. this is my first smut fic, i’ll go crawl in a hole now

(posted 12/19/23 not edited will return)

—

Hitting the shower was James’ chance of washing his anger away before seeing you again tonight. He always gave quidditch his 110% percent, but something animalistic rose out of him when he saw you get manhandled by Wilkins, his team keeper. And regardless of the Gryffindor win, he was planning to chew off his ear later, whether it be with extra laps at the next practice or a good ol’ fashioned wallop to the head. But this anger wasn’t due to a foul play, not even because you got hurt (your arm was clearly fine since you used it to swing your bat at Wilkins’ head after). What got James mad was the fact you ripped your jersey.

No, actually, it was definitely because of what happened after that.

He’s not the type of boyfriend to decline you showing a little extra skin, but any fantasy that entered his mind was quickly cleared away when he saw you re-emerge from the locker rooms wearing your teammate’s jersey. McGonagall said it would be the only way to let you play the rest of the game since there’s no magic allowed on the field, but ever the rulebreaker, James thought that was absolute bullshit.

He rinses the shampoo out of his mop of curls as he thinks about that tosser whose name he can’t even remember. The guy was way too eager to give you his jersey, flirting with you at practices and just not taking a hint. Everyone knew you’d been dating him for a while now, and of course, James knows you can handle yourself, but there are just some things he can’t let slide. Namely, assholes that can’t take a hint. Also, he was a benchwarmer at most. Cocky motherfucker.

Watching you fly around with some other guy’s last name on your back did terrible things to James’ ego. The blur of suds pool at his feet, circling down the drain as he takes a deep breath. He’s got it bad for you, but luckily you like him enough to call him yours.

The Gryffindor locker room was empty by now with everyone too eager to celebrate their win. It was his last year as team captain and at Hogwarts in general, so he should be right up there drinking with all of them, but James really needed to let off some steam.

“Babe?” Your voice calls from the doorway, echoing against the empty walls. Condensation drips off the door handle as you take a peek to see the one shower going in the corner. What was taking him so long? You saw the rest of the team leave without him and they were trying to drag you to celebrate with them, but with your boyfriend still drowning himself in the stall….

“Over here love,” he calls out, hearing your sandals clomp against the wet tile as you turn the corner.

“You almost done? We have a party to get to, Jamie.”

The falling water makes it a bit hard to hear you, so he pops his head out from behind the curtain and squints at your frame. You giggle and pull his chin closer for a few quick kisses.

“Is that your jersey?”

His lips feel so soft against yours as you get distracted, slipping your tongue into his mouth instead of giving him a proper answer. Godric you’re good at that. James’ wet hand quickly pushes the curtain open grabbing at your ass and tucking you against his naked body, soaking the front of you in the process. A muffled yelp escapes you as your body adjusts to the temperature and the feeling of his semi-hard dick against your front.

“No, coach still has mine and I have to return this to Steven after.” You say calmly, smiling against his cheek as he sucks at your neck. He would’ve enjoyed getting lost in the scent of your still-damp hair, but your statement makes him stop as he bites at your pulse point. A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing whatshisname’s jersey?”

James’s hands trail up your back to feel the embroidered letters against your back, and he swears his eye twitches. The incredulous look on his face makes you hold back your laughter.

“Steven. You know him! Don’t tell me this is a big deal for you, baby. You know I couldn’t magically fix mine during the game…”

Your hands trace down his slippery biceps as he unconsciously ruts against your belly, cock now at full attention from rubbing up against you. Your nipples are pebbled up under the material of the jersey, soaked from your less-than-innocent embrace, and he lifts a hand to brush over them, making you groan.

“Definitely not. I wouldn’t get jealous of a prick like him…” He scoffs, hands going back down to fist the fabric over your hips, “Not a big deal at all.”

“Mhmmm… I’ve got a way to make it up to you, even if it’s not a big deal.” You muse, fingers reaching to tease his swollen head as James exhales harshly.

“I’d hope this is a big deal for you, baby. Would want nothing more,” he breathes, pushing your back against the wall.

“You just want me to say your dick is big.”

The both of you laugh before he tugs the jersey over your head, ripping it in the process.

“James!”

He shrugs, burrowing his head into your breasts and lapping at your right bud. You moan, shoving your shorts down past your ankles before pulling his hair away from your chest.

“Mmmm…fuck, babe. I’m supposed to be congratulating you right now!”

Your hands push at his torso slightly as you fall to your knees, placing yourself onto your sandals. Gentle hands graze his thighs, as he feels your nose bump into his cock. The water hits James’ back perfectly, and the sensation of your hand pumping and sliding along his length makes him almost feral, shutting his eyes in pleasure.

“You played so well today baby… deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Your tongue slips out from behind your lips to lick the underside of his length, holding yourself there as you look up at him to answer. Droplets cascade down his pecs as he breathes heavily at the feeling, precum leaking from his cockhead. James hisses as you tap him against your tongue.

“Fuck, baby. Need your mouth right now.” He can feel you grin against his girth before his cock disappears into your mouth, hot and warm, and his instinct is to grab your hair. Goosebumps rise on the parts of him untouched by the shower. Your throat rumbles with a groan as you let him work himself down into your throat, the resistance waning as your jaw slackens. Cheeks hollowing, your lips retract with a pop.

“Like that, Jamie?” you say, reaching around to massage his balls as your tongue continues to play with the long vein that runs along the surface of his cock. It’s hard to fit all of him in your mouth, fingers barely able to wrap around it, much less the rest of you. His hand massages the part where your mouth hinges open, squeezing your cheeks around him as he fucks into you with a bated sigh.

“You always take me so well, baby. You can handle more, that’s it,” he pants, biting his lip as you concentrate real hard on letting him use you, the corners of your eyes watering. His heart is racing now as his hips piston to the noises that come gurgling from your throat and he almost slips before his reflexes help him catch the back of your head before it bangs into the stall wall. A loud moan sputters from around his cock as your eyes roll back, and the lack of oxygen makes you press your fingernails into his quads harshly.

He pulls out from between your lips, cradling your chin as the both of you catch your breath, coughing a little.

“You okay? Mouth so good I lost my footing.” All you can do is laugh hoarsely as he grins boyishly before you realize he’s not wearing his glasses.

“Can you even see me? S’bit cold down here, Mr. MVP.”

He pulls you up, strong hands lifting you at your armpits until you stand in front of him, reaching over to grab his glasses from the shower shelf. You slide them on as water sprays onto them slightly as he shifts, blinking at you in clearer vision.

“There’s my boy,” you whisper, cupping his jaw and slotting your lips between his once more. You could kiss James forever, all muscles and hard exterior, but everything else, his lips down to his insides feel and go soft for you. He groans lowly and it rumbles between the both of you, before the slick motions against your core remind you of something else that’s really hard right now.

“All for you,” he sighs, hands gripping onto your hips with a force that you think they’ll bruise tomorrow, and you love having physical reminders of him wherever you go. Huh, maybe he is jealous. And if not, he’s possessive. It makes your cunt pulse harder just thinking about it, your arousal helping his head slide nicely against your bundle of nerves and the softness of your stomach.

“I’m yours, you know that right?” Not replying, he instead inhales the sweat from your neck, following it with a dip of his tongue up towards your ear.

“James.”

Your boyfriend scoffs lightly, a small smirk on his face as he pulls your chin up to meet him at eye level. You’re so gorgeous like this, just letting him do what he wants to you. Always so reassuring of his needs. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip before you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around clean skin.

“Just feels like I have to remind you sometimes, pretty girl. Can’t let everyone walk around thinking you’re not mine.”

“I wouldn’t mind a reminder. Some marks would be nice too,” you grin, biting at his lip while your hands stroke him slowly, your own knees buckling in excitement.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Brat.” James hoists your legs over his hips, slamming your back into the wall as you squeak. Sandwiched between the warmth of his body and the cold of the shower wall, your eyes roll back as he eases his cock between your dripping folds, moans falling from your lips when he sinks into you, inch by inch.

His girth always has a way of stretching you open, and every time feels like the first as he taps at your thigh reminding you to take deep breaths. Fuck the party, you could stay here all night.

“Fill you up so nicely…we’re almost there, good girl.” His voice shakes, wanting to slam the rest of him straight into your cervix.

Your hands are gripping his shoulders until you finally feel him nudge the deepest parts of you, and you sigh when it all fits. Perfect.

“Always so big Jamie. Almost too much.” He kisses your cheek, hips starting to create a rhythm as he mutters into your ear.

“Not too much for my girl. Just perfect. Perfect pussy for this cock. All for you,” he grits, skin sliding and slapping as your thighs get pressed into your chest with the intense force he’s plunging into your guts.

“James, fuck….fuck you’re so deep! Feels so fucking good!” Filthy whimpers leave you and he loves the sound of your desperation when he’s inside of you like this. Too bad there’s no one else here to hear it. If Steven could only see you now.

“Such a good cunt for me to use. Only mine.”

He gasps for air as his feet slip against the tile once more, his heavy breathing fogging up his glasses, and his hold on you just as tight as your grip on his cock. Shit. His heart almost fell through his ass.

Your eyes open to see him struggling and a giggle escapes your mouth as you watch the stupid fucked out look on his face.

“How do people even fuck in the shower? This shit’s dangerous. Don't wanna maim the Gryffindor captain again.”

Your laughter sends jolts down to his throbbing shaft and he shakes his head with a smile, parting the curtain with one hand before carrying you still impaled on him towards the metal benches, placing you down softly.

“At least you finally admit it was your fault, baby. Could barely see straight for a week after.”

He wipes his glasses between his fingers before gazing at you lying across the bench, legs spread and ready for him. What a woman.

“And here I am hoping that when you’re done with me I won’t be able to walk for a week after,” you breathe, hands squeezing your tits as his pupils dilate further at the sight of you. What a fucking witch!

“Fucking hell, you know I love you, right?”

James positions himself over you, kissing your ankle as he sheathes himself back into your sex, resuming his brutal pace and hurtling you quickly towards your peak.

“Y-yes! Merlin, fuck I… looove you!” you wail, hips rolling to meet his and his balls strike your ass hard with each thrust. Your insides are being shifted around with him spearing your cervix like this and there’s nothing in this world that you could name that’s able to compare to how he makes you feel.

Your pussy contracts as he somehow nestles himself deeper, body trembling in this position as he throws your left leg over his shoulder, lips chasing your nipples trying to suck the life out of you, and perhaps that was his plan so you could forget anyone else but him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, James. Don’t you fucking DARE!” you beg, clawing your way down his back, making him nip at you in pleasure as you draw pinpricks of blood.

The tight pressure of release starts creeping at your core, making you squirm under him but he pins your waist down harder to the bench, the metal leaving prints against your flesh. His hands press harder on your stomach, silently encouraging you to cum and you can feel the imprint of his dick bulging from inside your stomach.

“Don’t struggle for me baby, just let it go. I know you wanna cum…. That’s it.” James praises in a shattered breath, watching you writhe underneath him as he holds you close. Your legs are shaking as your vision goes black for a moment, cunt gushing with release and squirt coats his pubic hair as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You lay there, catching your breath as the stars clear from your vision, and you look up at him stroking himself to the sight of you coming undone.

“Sheesh, look at the mess you made. You okay?”

“More than okay, Jamie. Need you to finish the job,” you tease, toes grazing the skin of his hip and he slaps at your thigh with a smile.

“Insatiable minx. Turn around then, ass up f’me.”

You do as he says, getting on all fours and showing him the perfect round of your asscheeks, covered in milky residue from your recent orgasm, but you turn to look at him when he doesn’t come near.

“Babe?”

His locker clinks open as he pulls a fresh jersey out, walking back to you and guiding it over your head and arms as you smile, pecking his cheek. Your silly boy. There was no way you actually thought you hated him this time last year with how sweet he really is. His large hand grazes the embroidered patches now resting on your back, POTTER, in huge white letters, CAPTAIN, now resting at the base of your spine.

James’ eyes drift lower and he hums at the sight of you perched on the bench, dropping his face to your throbbing holes and taking a long swipe with the flat of his tongue as he savors your taste along with the sounds of your whining. From your swollen clit to the ring of your asshole he’s languishing in a flavor that’s so uniquely you, and he pulls back, smacking his lips.

“Scrumptious. How are you hotter with clothes on?” James grins, taking a playful bite of an asscheek before he slaps it lightly and stuffs you deep, without any further hesitation. Your sarcastic reply is lost in a moan that makes your toes curl.

He works you open onto his cock again, your back arching desperately to be as close as possible and his hand presses you down, sliding up your spine until his fingers curl around strands of your hair. Tits swinging until they’re crushed against the bench, your face is smooshed as you mumble pathetically in his grasp.

“What was that baby? Can’t hear you well…” He spits at you, and if anyone could see this they’d know he was enjoying the sight of you at his mercy. He grinds his shaft against your walls, ramming against your g-spot and you drool like a mindless plaything, greedy for his attention.

“Right…right fucking there, ohmygod!” His cock pummels your cunt deliciously, hands spreading your cheeks wide and the stretch is so good, perfectly stroking the need in your belly.

“You’re so needy, pretty girl. You love it like this, huh? Good thing I fuck you so well, right?”

Merlin, this boy can pull orgasms out of you as well as he plays quidditch. He’s the only person in the world you’d gladly submit and be this pathetically cockdrunk for. Good thing he's yours.

“Yes…yes! So good Jamie. No one can fuck me like you….”

The white-hot sensation digs at your insides as his fingers fall to your clit, rubbing at you just the way you like as shockwaves shake every crevice of your being. He's breathing over your neck, hot air puffing and elevating your senses before they shut down completely.

“Yeah? Then come on my cock again right now. Show me you like it that much. Now.”

Your arms give out, falling completely forward as your body jerks in searing pleasure, pussy fluttering around his cock once more, so intensely. Your hands flail behind you until they find his, and he's pulling you up against his hard chest as he bounces you onto his length and chases his high.

“Give it to me, please, please… I can take it!” You’re screaming now, at the intersection between pain and pleasure but wanting to make sure you can milk him for his efforts. James’ thrusts stagger as he leans his head on your shoulder, biting you as he cums hard.

“I know you can, baby. All yours…” he chokes out.

Thick white ropes coat your insides, wrapping you tight around him like a present until the excess seeps out to the base of his cock. You kiss his temple as James starts to regulate his breathing.

“Fuck. Fuck….” you drag out, the two of you more winded than you were playing the damn game.

“I still have to return Steven’s jersey,” you mumble, and James can’t do anything but smirk at the thought of the clueless boy standing outside your House's locker room while he fucked you senseless a few doors over. What a shame.

—

The two of you walk hand in hand into the Gryffindor common room to a crowd of students cheering for James. The party is well underway and many hands clap his now injured back, to which his grimaces make you bite back a laugh. Speaking of bites….

Sirius walks up to you with two cups of punch, wide grey eyes zeroed in on you wearing James’s jersey and the glaring red marks of your boyfriend’s teeth on your neck.

“Merlin. I thought you two would take time to celebrate on your own but did you fucking attack her?”

You both take the cups out of his hands, searing blushes on your faces and leave Sirius to his own imagination before James whispers in your ear that he’ll be gone for a moment.

“Okay, but hurry back, baby.”

A peck on the lips sends him on his way to walk straight towards that wanker–er, Steven with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Potter! Have you seen–” the dumb boy says eagerly, before James cuts in, “Yeah, my girlfriend couldn’t meet you earlier, sorry mate.”

His hand digs into the undetectable extension charm in his knapsack, pulling out a soggy, ripped jersey.

“We were kind of busy, but you know how to fix that don’t you? You’ll need it to keep you warm on the bench for the rest of the season after all.”

It plops sadly onto the floor in front of the guy, and James looks at him, hazel eyes conveying what he knows he doesn’t have to remind him anymore.

“Thanks again! Appreciate you looking out for my girl.”

He walks away from Steven, who’s sputtering sad excuses and your eyes meet his as James finds you near the drinks table.

“What did you do?” You say with a lifted brow.

“Nothing, pretty girl. Just making known what’s mine.”

—

"you are pressing against me

like i press flowers

against the pages in my book.

you are kissing my neck

and it feels like the start of forever.

i want to touch you until my palms burn."

-amirae garcia

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 2

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Daisy meets the rest of the Daggers and one cocky pilot finds himself experiencing a first.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

“I don’t want to go,” I whined, packing up the individual bags of cookies I had made for dagger squad, Penny, and Maverick who were all going to be at the Hard Deck. Natasha was determined to get me out to the bar in something other than pajamas, holding up a denim mini skirt I hadn’t worn since college and black tank top.

“You’re going, I’ll buy you as many shots of tequila as it requires to get you to stay.” Tequila. My weakness. I ran a hand through my hair, glaring at the tiny skirt.

“I don’t even know if my ass still fits in that.”

“Just put it on, we’re leaving in ten.” I grabbed the outfit, grumbling in protest. 

Much to my surprise, the skirt did fit. Barely. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be playing pool in it because if I bent over to take a shot, my whole ass would be out. I threw on a red lip and some black cowgirl boots, slipping a book and a notebook into my bag just in case I needed a reprieve.

“Is your fine ass ready to go?” Natasha shouted up the stairs, “We’re going to be late!”

“Oh no, I’d never want to be late for something I didn’t want to do in the first place.” Natasha rolled her eyes at me, pulling me out of the apartment as quickly as her legs would take us. “I am going to drain your bank account with the amount of tequila I’m about to drink, Tasha.”

“Do your worst, Daisy.”

The bar was loud and filled with too many people for my liking. True to her word, Natasha bought me two shots of tequila and a beer to kick off the night before we even got to the table where all her friends were hanging out.

“Daisy!” Rooster shouted in greeting and Bob gave me a small salute. What the hell did they put in the water around here? There were three more handsome guys with the group, all of which offered me a smile and a once over.

“Hey, guys. You must be Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote. Natasha’s told me about you all.” 

“All bad things?” The man I recognized from the pictures as Fanboy guessed, chewing on a toothpick.

“Always,” Natasha slugged him on the shoulder. “Where’s Bagman?”

“Right, here. Hey, darlin, thanks for the lasagna.” A heavy arm draped over my shoulder, pulling me in for a kiss on the forehead.

“Um, hi.” I looked up, swaying a little when I saw him. Phoenix hadn’t shown me any pictures of Hangman, claiming they weren’t close enough to have any pictures together. He was tall, blonde, with a jaw sharp enough to cut glass with, staring down at me with pretty green eyes. “Glad you liked it.” My voice was far too soft and breathy to be considered normal. Hangman winked and my whole face flushed red. “Tasha.” 

“That’s enough, Bagman.” Natasha tugged me from his side, “First Rooster and now you, I told your animals to behave around her.” Hangman and Rooster shared looks of mock offense, grinning.

“I’m behaving,” Bob piped up, a mouthful of peanuts.

“Yes, thank you, Bob, you’re behaving.” Natashja sat me between her and Bob at the table, keeping an arm around my waist.

“I’m behaving too, Phoenix,” Coyote grinned, leaning across the table. “See? Listen, Daisy, are you liking it in Cali so far?”

“It’s a little hot but the change in scenery is nice, have some cookies.” I dug into my bag, “Chocolate chip or M&M?” 

“You made cookies?” Fanboy nearly spilled his beer. “I can be good too! You’re a writer, right, Daisy?” 

“M&M, please.” Coyote immediately dug in.

“I am, do you want M&M too?” The whole group started asking me questions, being rewarded with their own bag of cookies. Natasha teased that I was treat-training them like a pack of wild dogs. 

Eventually, my newness wore off and the group separated. Hangman and Coyote went for darts and the rest went for the pool table. After a few more shots and a dance around the floor with Rooster, Bob, and Coyote, I finally escaped from Phoenix long enough to grab my notebook. There was a new character in my head, speaking softly about what she saw and what she wanted. 

The words flowed freely, blue ink cursive neatly filling page after page. My publisher was going to be giddy at the prospect of another series, I could already hear her excited laughter ringing in my ears, followed by the click of her gold cigarette lighter. I smoke menthols, the unnamed character whispered to me, and I drink my coffee black. A tough woman, an agency legacy. FBI? CIA? NCIS. I chuckled softly, glancing up at all the uniforms drinking around me. I should have seen that one coming. 

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” Hangman’s southern drawl broke my concentration, the still nameless woman slipping away back into my imagination. Damn it. “You bite your bottom lip.” 

“You must have lost at darts if you were paying that much attention to me, pretty boy.” Hangman’s smirk morphed into a grin, making him even prettier than before, which was a problem. My stomach fluttered in a way that was concerning to feminism.

“If that’s supposed to be an insult, I don’t understand how. I’m the prettiest boy in this goddamn state.” And he was, I laughed, forcing myself to look away from him and back at my notebook. “What are you writing?”

“A new-” Hangman slid into the booth next to me, his warm, masculine scent filling the space around us. “Um,” What was I saying again? He was watching me squirm, sipping on his beer as my blush deepened. “I got a new idea and I had to write it down before I lost it.” Hangman’s eyes flickered to the notebook and I quickly flipped it shut.

“Even your handwriting is pretty, darlin. Almost as pretty as your cooking,” The line itself didn’t make sense but his delivery made it work.

“You like my cooking?” 

“I like everything about you, Daisy,” He slid even closer. Hangman was just as confident and flirty as Natasha had warned me and despite how pretty he was and how into me he seemed, I didn’t buy his interest for a second. I burst out laughing, covering my mouth with my hand.

“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” Hangman’s brow scrunched in confusion, “The whole hot aviator hitting on me every thirty seconds is just too much.” Hangman sat back, watching me laugh until I couldn’t breath, his eyebrows raised. 

“Are you done, darlin?” I held up a finger, trying to catch my breath. “You know, I think this is the first time a woman’s ever cracked up at my flirting.” 

“Happy to be your first, Hangman.” I pushed his shoulder, filing the fact that his muscles felt extremely soft to the touch in a filing cabinet deep within my brain never to be opened. 

“Well, if hot shot Hangman isn’t your speed, then hi.” He held out his hand, his eyes going soft, “I’m Jake Seresin, thank you for sending me dinner last night. It was the best meal I’ve eaten since Christmas.” Oh. Oh. 

“Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Daisy Prentiss and I’ll cook whenever you’d like.” 

“Now who’s flirting?” 

“It’s not flirting,” Okay, it was a little bit of flirting, I couldn’t help myself. “I’ll feed the rest of the daggers too.” Jake smiled and this time it wasn’t cocky or flirting, it was soft and genuine.

“I look forward to it, sweetheart.”

X

I watched closely as Hangman sat with Daisy, convincing her to drink water between shots of tequila, which were actually water because he was filling the shot glass with it every time she looked away. I’d never admit it but they looked like a happy couple, having a night out on the town. 

“I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that,” Coyote sidled up to me at the bar, offering me a beer. “Hangman is nowhere in sight.” 

“I’ll beat the shit out of him if he hurts her, Javy.” His pinky brushed mine and I had to fight a smile.

“I’ll hold him down for you.”

Next Chapter

[muddyorbsblr]

you deserve better

See my full list of works here!

Summary: When all the plans you'd made for today go down the drain, the last person you expected shows up at your door to try turning the night around

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst; language; craptastic friends [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: simp Conrad, that is all 🫠

"Fucking dammit!"

You gripped your phone tightly in your hand, resisting the urge to chuck it into the sea right where the ship's rotor blade was located. Tears burned behind your eyes as every message you'd missed in the last week while you were on this research trip with Monarch trickled in at a steady pace now that you and the rest of the crew had signal again.

Where your fellow scientists were calling up loved ones on FaceTime with bright smiles on their faces and assurances that they were on their way back home, you had an influx of messages from your friends telling you that no, they wouldn't be making your birthday dinner tonight after all.

"Doctor Y/L/N?"

Oh fuck not him, doesn't he have a pool bar to get to so he can snap his fingers and get tonight's lay? you snidely thought to yourself, steeling your stance at the sound of former Captain James Conrad's voice. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him. "What's up, Conrad? Looking to split an Uber and Brooks doesn't wanna--"

"Are you alright?"

His question felt like a shock to your system, making you blink your eyes repeatedly as if you were trying to get your bearings back. "Of course," you lied through your teeth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…" he trailed off, motioning toward your hand. "You're gripping your mobile so hard your knuckles are turning white, for one."

You glanced at your hand, sighing when you saw your skin stretched taut over bone and trying to relax your grip somewhat. "Fine," you gritted out. "If you really wanna know, it's my birthday today. I had plans to spend tonight with my friends once I'd unpacked and washed that goddamned island off of my skin. But some people in that group can't seem to let petty high school shit go, and today when we finally got signal again I got a metric fuckton of messages from one of said friends calling me either a bad friend or a dumbass for extending an invitation to my friends because it's inconvenient for her, which then led to a domino effect of if she's not going then I'm not going and now…" you trailed off, chuckling sardonically to yourself. "Now no one's going."

Something akin to pity crossed the tracker's eyes, making you look away. The last thing you needed right now was the most jaw-droppingly unfairly handsome man on the face of God's green earth to look at you like a sad wet little puppy left out on the side of the road.

"Anyways I'm off," you said a little too chipper it even made you cringe a little inside. "Got a date with a pizza box, fridge full of wine, and my Netflix account. 'Till the next one, Conrad."

Before he could say anything else, you were already walking to your Uber that just pulled up, finally letting yourself let go of all the hot air you were running on and quite aptly feeling deflated. When you were finally far enough from the port that Conrad wasn't even a speck in your line of sight, you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

You felt exponentially worse when you got home, most of the food that you'd placed an order for before you left on the trip to be delivered today already waiting on your porch.

"Fucking dammit," you repeated, albeit this time with a whimper rather than a roar. You propped your door open and started bringing the food in, deciding to set aside a couple of days worth of meals for yourself and then giving the rest to a nearby food bank so that it would at least do some good.

It took a few hours but you were finally perched on your couch, wearing a comfy pajama short set, Kate & Leopold playing on your TV, and tucking straight into a tub of mudslide ice cream just letting the night pass. This definitely wasn't how you pictured spending your 30th birthday, but you strived to remember that there could have been worse ways to spend tonight.

You could've been mediating between spatting friends because they couldn't manage to keep civil for one night, or you could've been on the receiving end of Deena's tirade about "how duplicitous you were to drag her into a gathering with Shana". The island would've been a better alternative than dealing with that all night.

About 30 minutes into the movie you heard a knock on your door, causing you jump in your seat. "I didn't order anything!" you hollered toward your front door, wincing at the pins and needles starting to prickle at your feet and lower legs from the motion.

Whoever was outside knocked again, this time a bit more persistent with the sound booming across the living room. Your visitor, whoever it may be, wasn't here by mistake, and they weren't about to be waved off with a simple 'go away I'm pissy'.

"I told you, buddy, I didn't order any--" Your words stopped short on the tip of your tongue as you saw nothing but broad shoulders clad in a familiar tight and worn blue t-shirt stretched tight over well-defined pectorals, only this time with an off-the-rack casual blazer draped over it. Your eyes slowly traveled upward to meet the oceanic blue eyes that quite frankly you constantly tried and failed not to dream about whenever you drifted off to sleep at night. "Conrad…" you said his name slowly, as if every part of your brain was fighting against accepting the reality that he was here now, looking like the human embodiment of Lust on ridiculously long legs. "What're you doing here?"

There were quite a few thoughts that crossed your mind in the last few hours, scenarios that you'd conjured up on how the rest of the night would go, each of them dwindling in their respective probability as the hours ticked on. Former SAS Tracker James Conrad being at your door, however, was definitively not among those scenarios.

"Erm…I thought I would come over to check on you. You were visibly…understandably…upset when we parted ways at the pier," he answered, shifting his weight to one leg as if trying to make it all sound so casual. He looked over at how you were dressed, from the haphazard ponytail down to the fuzzy monster slippers covering your feet, and resumed his stance that you'd grown accustomed to with the squared shoulders and the ramrod straight back as if he was back on training grounds. "Get dressed, Y/L/N."

You jerked your head backwards, surprise and confusion flooding your system at the soft spoken order. "Why?"

"I'm taking you out for dinner," he stated plainly. "I know you had plans for tonight and they didn't pan out the way you intended. No one should such an important day alone unless they really want to."

"Conrad, please. I'm fine, everything's fine. You don't have to check in on me or take me out to dinner or keep me company out of--I don't even know, pity? You have your own thing and I don't wanna keep you from it or the hordes of women who would probably abandon all common human decency and trample over each other to get that blazer off of you." You finished your little lament with a wave toward the garment, already stepping back like you were about to send him off to better and more interesting company.

When he sensed what you were about to do, he reached out, putting your hand in a delicate hold. "The night has barely begun, and you're in pajamas, eating ice cream, and one of your comfort movies is playing on the screen." He motioned his head towards your TV, where Hugh Jackman and Meg Ryan were currently paused mid-waltz on a New York rooftop. He brought his hand up to cup your face, swiping his thumb over the corner of your mouth before softly saying, "This isn't fine. And I know that I'm not the company you expected or perhaps even prefer. I just--I wanted to come here tonight and just let you know…that I'm here. So…you could join me for dinner or alternatively I could join you here and you can talk my ear off with your movie commentary. The point is that you won't be spending your birthday alone."

His words left you stunned to near silence. "I uhm--I'll go get dressed then." You stepped back from his hold, an irrational part of you already missing his touch, awkwardly waving toward the sitting area. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

Once you'd started to make your way up the stairs, Conrad made his way to the living area of your house, a smile making its way to his face as he looked at the framed pictures you had on your shelves, your dimpled toothy grin on full display. "Oh, Y/N," he breathed your name almost reverently in the silence. "How the hell am I going to move on from you now?"

Earlier today when you'd all disembarked off the ship, he had plans to wash up and head off to a bar to look for someone to keep him company for the night, perhaps until Monday when you were all expected to return to Monarch for briefing on your next mission. All he wanted was to find someone who held even the faintest resemblance to you and lose himself in the chimera that you were the one he was with, that he held you in his arms as he woke up that next morning, and with that indulgence to tide him over for some time, perhaps he could maintain the professional, nearly friendly, relationship that he had with you without running the risk of putting that in jeopardy all because he couldn't keep his affections in check.

Those plans all went down the drain when he saw how you were fighting back tears explaining how your plans for tonight had gone off the rails. When his choices for how to spend the night were spending a few empty hours with someone he would meticulously compare to you or making sure that your birthday wasn't going to be spent alone and licking wounds that should never have been dealt to you in the first place, there was no choice to make.

Tonight's objective was simply to wipe the frown away from your perfectly enchanting face, perhaps even get you to smile. And maybe somewhere along the way finally get you to see him as someone more than just your colleague. Someone that cared. A friend, if he was really going to push it.

And maybe if he was going to entertain the moon shot that played in his most self-indulgent daydreams…a lover.

The sound of you clearing your throat brought him out of his thoughts, the sight of you in your simple pale blue dress with a slight teasing cutout by your waist stealing every bit of his breath away. "Too much?" you asked him, your tone shaky.

"Not at all," he croaked out, clearing his throat before speaking again. "You uhm…you look--You're beautiful." The tiniest smile played at your lips as you motioned for him to follow you to the door. "You always are," he murmured under his breath.

"What was that?" you called out absentmindedly, still steadily making your way to the front door.

"N-Nothing," he stammered. "I was just…admiring your home. It's lovely."

"It's too damn big is what it is," you scoffed as he passed you at the threshold before locking the door. "That's what I get for being perpetually alone, I guess. Just my luck that every guy I ever even tried to date fully expects me to hang up my coat and give up my research so I can play housewife." Your eyes misted over again as the next words came out. "Not a single soul on God's green earth that could deal with that." You turned the key with a little more force than necessary, the lock clicking into place with a resounding knock.

When the two of you made your way to his car, he opened the door for you, your disbelief at the gesture evident in your eyes. And when he was sure that you wouldn't be able to hear him through the car's closed door, he whispered to himself, "I could deal with that. If it meant that you were mine, I could deal with anything."

A/N: Happy happy birthday @liminalpebble!! I hope this puts a smile on your face today and that you have a spectacular year ahead of you, bestie 🥹🥹 Many many hugs from me and Grassy the Mango (even though the bub hasn't arrived yet but it will…today. I think…)

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2

[piedpiperart]

Phantom of Gotham 14

Chapter 13

“Alfred said Tim and Damian aren’t allowed in the kitchen,”Jason was saying as Tim came into the room. Damian and Dick had left to go take Titus for a walk. “Especially after Tim tried to make toast and caught Alfred’s favorite dish towel on fire.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry! I didn’t know the furthest dial on the toaster meant fire,”Tim grumbled, taking a seat next to Danny, who was snickering at him. 

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t used a toaster in years,”Danny shook his head,”Toast is disgusting.”

Jason gave him a look,”You don’t like toast? Who doesn’t like toast?”

“It’s like a staple food of breakfast,”Tim added. “Do you like bread?”

“Yes, I like bread just fine,”Danny muttered,”I don’t see why it has to be toasted, it just ruins the bread.”

Tim just laughed, and Jason looked offended. “Okay sure, but garlic bread needs to be toasted. Bagels! Croutons,”Jason listed. 

“It’s not the same,”Danny argued. “Why have toast when you could just have bread?”

“Because it adds to the flavor?!”Jason scoffed. 

“Guys, lets just agree to disagree,”Tim placated,”And agree that Danny has weird tastes in food.”

“Hey, you’re one to talk with that caffeine addiction you got going on,” Danny nodded towards the cup of coffee in front of Tim. Huh, he didn’t remember getting that. 

“Timbit has the worst addiction,”Jason groaned, then leaned over conspiratorily,”Probably why he’s so short.”

“Am not!” Tim protested. “And I’ve only had three cups today.” 

Danny shot him a horrified glance,”It’s only eleven…”

“See?” Jason nudged him. 

“That’s it, you don’t get more coffee today,”Danny said solemnly, and to Tim’s surprise, when he looked at his cup it was gone. He looked back to see Danny holding it in his hands. “No more coffee or you’ll stay short forever.”

“Hey- no, thats not how it works,”Tim protested,”You know I can just make more coffee, right?”

‘Not on my watch,”Danny challenged, walking over to the sink. Tim made a strangled noise when Danny took the lid off to dump into the sink.

“Wait- Danny,”Tim protested, having gotten up and was now trying to reach his coffee without spilling it or hurting Danny. “Just- Give it here, man, no need to waste good coffee-”

“Nope, can’t hear you,”Danny said, pouring it down the drain despite TIm’s best efforts. He swore a part of him died at the sight of his precious drink going to waste. Jason on the other hand, was surprised at Danny’s agility and laughing at Tim’s demise. “And you need to get outside more, you’re too pale. Have you been eating? Did you eat breakfast?” Danny continued. 

Tim sulked, brushing off Danny’s questions as a joke until he realized Danny was actually serious and waiting for an answer. “No, dude I’m perfectly fine.”

“So you did eat breakfast?” Danny squinted, and Tim thought Danny’s pupils had gotten a bit smaller nt he short time they were talking. 

“Yes,”Tim sighed,”There’s no way Alfred would let any of us skip.”

“Good,”Danny sighed, and the weird, nervous energy around him disappeared. “Danny!” Someone called, and the three boys whipped around to see Dick in the doorway with Damian trailing behind him. “You’re awake!”

“Yeah, you’re Dick right?”Danny waved awkwardly. He hadn’t talked to Dick much during his few days at the manor, but the man seemed cool. 

“In the flesh,”Dick gestured dramatically, then made his way to the other occupants of the room. “Now that we’re all together for once, we should play a game or something!”

“No way,”Jason rolled his eyes. No doubt the game would end in someone getting stabbed. 

“We could play videogames?” Tim suggested. 

“We could play outside in the snow?” Danny suggested, only to be met with protests about winter clothes and cold. “Alright fine.”

“What about the pool?” Damian scoffed. “It’s heated and indoors. I do not think it has been used in a while.”

“What?” Damian continued when he was met with silence. 

“We have a pool?” Dick asked. He turned to Tim and Jason. “Since when did we have a pool??”

“God this place is huge,”Jason groaned. 

“Oh- Yeah. There’s an indoor pool,”Tim muttered, typing something on his phone. 

Damian scoffed. “Obviously. It is located next to the art studio.”

“We have an art studio?” Dick whispered to Jason, who shrugged while the other teens nodded in agreement. 

“Swmming sounds fun,”Tim acquiesced. He glanced to Danny,”You can use my swimsuit, I have a few.”

“Uh- sure,”Danny agreed absently, rubbing his chest. 

“Alright!” Dick cheered. “Everyone get ready and meet back here in ten.”

“Why meet back here when we can meet at the pool?”Damian asked, following him out. 

“Cuz no one knows how to get there except you lil’D,”Dick responded, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t know we had a pool here. Childhood wasted.”

Chapter 15

[topsurgerystuff]

Now, I will expound upon the scary things. These are things that happened after top surgery that spooked me.

All of these things ended up being harmless, I just wasn’t told they would happen and couldn’t find any info about them so they scared me shitless. My intention here is to save others from similar needless panic. This is not medical advice, just a description of my experience. Well some of it is advice, but keep in mind that I’m fucking stupid and I don’t know shit. Also, Never for one second have I regretted this surgery. The only thing I miss about my tits is being able to grope them whenever I wanted.

Okay so first of all there was the bruises. Blood from the surgery had pooled in my love handles and all over my thighs under my skin and made these HUGE bruises, right, and they didn’t hurt but they were large and had funky colors and I thought “What if the blood rots under my skin”. I googled it, I asked all my friends, I tried to reach my doctors but it was the weekend so they didn’t answer so I went to urgent care and the doctor there was like “I dont know…. That’s scary….” So I was freaking out and decided I would simply wait for death to claim me. It was fine. When I finally got ahold of the doctor she said she’s never seen it before but to just watch it and tell her if it gets bigger. My body slurped that shit back up in a couple weeks, totally harmlessly. Why haven’t surgeons ever seen shit like that before? Probably because nobody’s ever freaked out about it enough to mention it to them. Either way, it was fine.

Secondly, when I had those drains in me, that was spooky because I thought “What if they get yanked out and tear up my shit” and I couldn’t take off the bandage too see or nothing but when I did eventually take them off, I saw that there are stitches around the pipes but not like holding them in you, just there to make sure the holes they put in you stay the same size they are. So if they get pulled out you don’t get seriously damaged, you just call them up and say yo can you put this shit back in me pls. There will also be little meat chunks coming through your tubes with your soup and the soup will be mildly funky smelling. That’s normal. I was told to tell them if there was like CRAZY amounts of meat or if the soup smelled absolutely nasty. Also the bolster things they put on your nips are attached directly to your nips and nothing else, so if you feel shit sliding around under your bandage, that’s the bandage sliding, not the bolsters. They didn’t tell me that so I thought I was gonna wake up with one on my back or something and not be able to put it back where it was. And they make it so it’ll be nice and slippery in there the whole time so don’t worry about the bolsters getting ripped off, there’s not enough friction in there to do that.

There was also the hydrocodone they gave me. For me, the incisions didn’t hardly hurt at all even immediately after surgery but they prescribed me hydrocodone so I took it, and I assumed I wasn’t hurting because of the drugs and that if I stopped taking them I would hurt a LOT. So here I am taking opioids and I’m so fucking dizzy and I’m violently throwing up for two days. I texted my doctor and begged to stop taking it because I thought I would get in trouble or something if I stopped without asking and she’s like “Yeah, you didn’t have to take it if you didn’t want to, its just there if you need something stronger” ohhhhhhhh well fuck me I guess. So I stopped taking it and it turns out I didn’t need pain meds at all because it barely hurts, it just feels like a really long paper cut.

Some other things, I popped a stitch in my armpit because when you first come home and your shits still all numbed up, you can’t feel it when you overstretch your arm so if you forget you’re not supposed to do that, you can pop a stitch. It got infected, I put some antibiotic on it, it took a long time to heal and it made the scar a little uglier but it didn’t cause anything crazy. I will say that my incisions go up into my armpits really far and it was real hard to keep them clean on account of all the sweat. My nipple grafts also had many tiny, shallow stitches and I thought “What if they fall out because they’re so shallow”. That’s normal. My dad said that’s how you do stitches for sensitive areas so they look pretty, and they do look pretty, and also they are supposed to fall out after a couple weeks, that is also normal. Just make sure they don’t fall out too soon I guess. Pretend you’re made of glass for the first 4 weeks, honestly.

Also, your nip has the little oil glands in it, right, and when you’re nip scabs over as it is supposed to, it will scab inside these oil pores and you’ll lose the whole rest of the scab and have these little leftover scraps, and you Must. Not. Pick them. Those pores in my nips are little craters now because I picked the scabs out of them. Every scab you pull off, even the ones that are thin and tiny and already hanging halfway off, is going to make your nip even uglier. You wont die but you will say “Ugh why did it do that”.

Also, my nip hole collects nasty shit in it that I have to clean out all the time and since I can’t feel anything in there I have the be VERY careful. Skin is actually very easy to puncture. And there’s like little caverns in there that also get stuff in them a lot so I still put antibiotic on my nips after I shower just in case? Not really sure if its infection or like dead skin… its been getting better over time at least. Sorry if that’s TMI but listen, somebody’s gotta talk about it.

Sometimes my scars, the main incisions, will get these little blackheads right in the middle of them or little pockets of infection, and I always pick at them and the scar tissue isn’t very strong so when you pick at things on your scar, you will break open all the blood vessels around it and have a big red spot and the scar tissue is such that you will not get the blackhead out anyway so just dont do that. Put some antibiotic on it. Honestly just put antibiotic on anything that looks sus. Antibiotic can solve anything.

Okay idk what else to say so end post goodbye.

[touloser-lautrec]

Happy Storyteller Saturday 💜

This is your invitation to share a snippet of your writing that you love, and talk about why you love it.

Thank you so much for sending this ask! It took me forever to excavate it from my inbox purgatory (sorry!) but I am happy to be catching up :)

Here is a snippet of writing from a draft of Sunset Vol 3 (slightly edited for spoilers). Dana is a character that doesn't really show up until late in the game, but I kind of love him. I am a real sucker for a tough-character-is-good-with-little-kids moment, so I was happy to get a chance to bring it into Sunset. Dana used to be a high ranking Neptune retrieval agent, until he lost his knack and got desked in the Academy. Now he teaches combat and home ec classes across all grades. He hasn't forgotten his Neptune training and he definitely misses having his knack, but he's ultimately glad it happened because he loves his students pretty fiercely. And since it'll be a while til we get there in our posting schedule, I'm taking this opportunity to share about him! (And credit where it's due, this is a scene that I drafted but has been passed back and forth between my co-writer @sunset-a-story and I a few times. This section definitely was about 90% me, but their hand is in it too!)

Snippet below the cut:

One of Dana’s students, a five year old telekinetic named Jamie, made her way over to him and clung to his leg, fingers curling around the denim of his jeans, fear in her eyes. He put a hand on her head, gently ruffling her hair. He looked down at her, dropping to crouch at her level, willing his pounding heart to settle. 

“Are we trapped in here?” she whispered, voice on the edge of tears. 

“No, no,” he told her. “It’s gonna be fine.”

The lockdown siren screamed in their ears, splitting through the din of the crowd. He felt the blood drain from his face. If they wanted them all to stay put, at least a lockdown would prevent anyone else from testing the door and starting a panic.

Jamie leaned into him for a hug and he picked her up, standing again and holding her to his chest as she buried her face in his hair. Looking over her head, he scanned the crowd for anyone else who had noticed that they were, in fact, trapped inside this room. 

No one. 

“Listen, Jamie,” he said above the siren, “I know it’s a little scary, but remember how good you did in that pool noodle war we had in class the other day? You were really nervous but you ended up in the top three.”

She nodded into his hair, small arms squeezing him. His heart broke a little and he swallowed. 

“Do you still have the sticker you won?”

She nodded again. “It’s in my room.”

“Good! I’m glad it’s safe and sound in there.” He leaned back a little and shifted her weight to be able to meet her eyes. “Did you know that one was a bravery medal? I think I forgot to tell you. I only give it to the bravest students.”

“Really?” she said, voice tentative.

“Really. And I promise to protect you, but I need a brave sidekick to do it. Do you think you have it in you?” he asked, eyes drifting to the back of the room and the door.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked. His eyes snapped back to her and he let out a silent breath of relief that she was rallying and he lowered her to the ground, giving her one last squeeze.

“See that group of older kids over there?” he gestured to a gaggle of teens already stepping in to help calm the younger ones as they reacted to the loud siren. One of his more advanced advisees was there, and he trusted them to handle whatever could possibly be coming, as much as that could apply in whatever this was. “I need you to go help them keep your classmates calm. Not all of them might be as brave as you. But I’ll bet you can help them find their bravery, right?”

She nodded, and he gently nudged her in that direction. His gut was churning. “You’ve got this. What’s a siren to someone with a bravery medal? Not a thing!” he said. He watched as she ran over. “Not a thing,” he muttered to himself under his breath. He nodded to the teens, catching their eyes. They nodded back, as though it was no big deal. He made a mental note to thank them later.

On his own again, Dana began to push forward. Hell or high water, Dana was going to protect his students but he needed to find out what he could possibly be up against. 

He wouldn't get the chance to ask.

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Eject Chapter 7

Story Summary: Ejecting from your plane in the face of danger? Expected. Forbidden love amongst pilots? Not so much. Will they bond or will this break them for good?

Chapter Summary: A vacation proposition, Bob backstory, and a special kiss

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Natasha "Phoenix" Trace All the Daggers, Mav x Penny, Amelia, OC's

Warnings: Language. Assault (not by a major character). Injury. Eventual smut. Alcohol consumption. Smoking. Discussions of mental health. (It's a rollercoaster. You've been warned!) Chapter

Word Count: 4459

Eject Masterlist

I do not own anything except the original characters.

Luckily for Rooster, nothing was broken. Unfortunately for Rooster it was a blood hematoma caused by blunt force trauma. He vaguely remembered hitting a branch or log as he came in for a landing after ejecting from his jet. The on-board doctor had to drain it in a minor surgical procedure. He was going to be fine, sans any infection. Definitely no swimming, so he would be a heavily medicated observer for the afternoon’s festivities.

Phoenix left him at medical to go get her nap, Rooster absolutely pained he couldn’t go with her. Worse than the pain he was feeling in his side for sure. His choice to follow Mav was like the horrible gift that kept on giving. One step forward, five steps back. He winced as the doctor finished bandaging the side of his torso. The local was beginning to wear off and while the pressure of the clot was gone, he could now feel where he was cut open. He traded one type of pain for another.

After being discharged Rooster went to his room and crashed. Delirium was beginning to kick in.

Two hours later he heard a knock at the door. Drool was pooling on his pillow under his check, his eyes dry, his right side screaming at him. The knock came again, and he gingerly slid out of his bunk and padded to the door while rubbing the slobber from his cheek. He opened it to find his tiny fire bird staring up at him, that gorgeous smirk across her face.

“Nice bed head.” She spoke through a small snicker. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” He moved over with a small limp as he spoke, so that she could slide past him in the cramped quarters. Rooster closed the door and leaned his back on it, still trying to clear the haze from his head.

“Sorry to wake you. How’s your wound?” she asked as she observed the large bandage on the side of his shirtless body.

Rooster stood up a little and sucked in a breath as he felt the stitches stretch across the injury. “My side is telling me I need my meds.” And he picked up the bottle of medication and water on the little table and downed one large pill.

Nat moved to sit on Bobs bed, barely having to duck her head. Rooster pulled the stool out from under the table and sat to face her. They sat looking at each other for a minute before she broke the silence.

“Hangman had an interesting proposal earlier. About the two weeks of leave.”

Bradley stared intriguingly at her. Where the heck was this going?

“I know what you’re thinking. Or at least the general idea. Trust me this might be a really good idea.” She waited for him to respond but he was too curious to speak. He waited on bated breath for her to continue. “So Hangman’s Dad is some big shot oil guy, right?” Rooster nodded. “Well, apparently his parents own a place in Tahoe they rent out. He got a message out to his mom, and she said we could use it for a week. We’d have to leave a few days before Thanksgiving because they have clients coming in, but Bob and I were chatting and thought we could have our own sort of Dagger squad Thanksgiving there at the house? It has an indoor pool, game room, a movie room, and plenty of rooms and beds for all of us. What do you think? Want to go?”

His heart just about leapt out of his chest. That sounded like the best idea on the fucking planet. Almost too eagerly he responded “Yes. I’d love to!”

She giggled at his enthusiastic response and Rooster felt heat rise up his cheeks as he gave her a dorky half smile. She giggled again and continued.

“Apparently Hangman hasn’t been to the house in a couple of years,” She loathed with an eyeroll. “So he’s VERY enthusiastic about this. He’s a total rich frat-boy type of guy who will just stay drunk and annoy me the entire trip. But whatever. If it means we all get a well-earned vacation, then we can suffer through his antics, right?” She mused as she picked at some lint on Bobs bed.

Rooster nodded his head, too excited to speak. He had to keep his cool exterior. After everything they experienced in the last 48 hours, he didn’t want to get too passionate about this and scare her off. They were making hesitant strides, and this was a big one. A week vacation with her in a beautiful retreat sounded fucking incredible.

Nat looked up from the sheet she was plucking at with a sad expression and said “I’m sorry we didn’t get our nap. And I’m sorry for the reason we didn’t get it. What did the Doc say?”

Rooster took in a slow, painful breath. “The Doc said I’ll live. So I’ve defied death for the second time in 2 days.” He mused with a wink. Phoenix just rolled her eyes. “And I’m sad about the nap too.” He said, his sly grin dropping slightly. Nat let her gaze drop back to the corner of Bobs sheet in her hand, breaking their eye contact.

She spoke again, hesitantly. “Maybe we can try for that nap again on the trip?”

Rooster could feel the beads of sweat pearling on his forehead. This woman was going to be the death of him. Not some enemy plane, SAM, or wound infection. No. The genuine whiplash with which Natasha “Phoenix” Trace continued to hit him with was going to be the weapon that took him down. He wasn’t sure how much more his heart could handle, and right now physical limitations prevented him from doing anything other than sit on the stool and try to remain composed.

“That would be nice.” He barely whispered.

He saw the corner of her mouth perk up slightly and his did the same as an automatic reaction. He chuckled slightly and shook his head then made to stand. Before he could get all the way to a standing position though, a sharp pain hit his side, taking his breath away. His hand flew up to grab the end of the bunk as he let out a deep groan. Phoenix jumped to her feet and moved to him, placing her hand on his healthy side.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, extreme worry in her voice and eyes.

He took two slow steadying breaths then looked down at her scared eyes. “The pain meds haven’t kicked in yet.” He let out low, his face feeling clammy.

“Ok big boy. That’s enough excitement for you for a while. How about you lay down and rest? I need to go change and then I’ll return the favor of grabbing a meal for you before swim time, huh?” She asked as she backed up, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the side of his bed.

Bradley slowly slid down into the less than comfortable mattress, hissing and moaning along the way. He finally grunted a “sounds wonderful” as a response to her question.

Natasha pulled his cover up over him and patted his arm. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Rest.”

Bradley said nothing as he heard her footsteps cross the room and the gentle click of his door as she disappeared through it. He lay in the dim light and realized rest was out of the question. His mind was racing. A whole week with her. No orders. No flying. Just spending time enjoying each other’s company and the company of some of their best friends. The fact that Dickman set it up was slightly aggravating, but he didn’t care. This is what they needed. Time to just be without too much distraction, to talk and to connect. He hoped desperately that she felt the same way. She said she needed time to think. Maybe she was thinking this was a brilliant idea as well for all the same reasons he did.

Fifteen minutes later Roosters thoughts of Nat and the Tahoe house were interrupted by the door to the room opening softly. Someone shuffled quietly in and began rustling around. He rolled over slightly and in the shadowy lamp light saw Bob digging around in his drawer. Bob glanced over and a sheepish look crossed his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I needed to grab my shorts for the swim. It’s almost time. I know you can’t swim but you planning to come too?”

Rooster grunted and rolled all the way to his back, rubbing his face. “Yeah, I’ll be a begrudging spectator. Phoenix is bringing me food, so I need to get up I ‘spose.”

“Oh yeah, I saw her in line when I left the mess just now. I’m sure she won’t be long.”

Bob grabbed a pair of shorts out of his drawer then closed it. Turning to Rooster he asked “So, are yall ok? Phoenix seems, I don’t know, different somehow.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with his line of questioning, but unable to stop himself. “I’m guessing yall worked some things out then?”

Rooster sighed, staring at the bed above him to give Bob his privacy as he began to change. “I think so?” Rooster said more as a question than a statement of fact.

Bob nodded his head. “Good. She told you about the trip idea yeah?” he asked as he finished sliding his navy and white striped trunks up.

“Oh yeah man. Count me all the way in. Tahoe sounds fucking spectacular after being on this metal heap for a week. Even if it’s cold as fuck there this time of year.”

Bob chuckled “I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Any idea who’s going?” Rooster asked.

“So far, it’s me, you, Phoenix, Hangman, Fanboy, Coyote, Fritz, and Omaha. Payback is going to Florida to spend Thanksgiving with his fiancé, Halo wants to stay near base to hang out with some guy she met before we left, and the Ivies are going back east to see their family for the holiday.”

“Cool. That should be enough bodies to keep Hangman at bay.”

“One could only hope.” Bob said, completely deadpan.

Rooster laughed lightly under his breath. “I am just a little surprised so many want to go to Tahoe instead of home for the holiday.” Rooster pondered aloud.

Bob contemplated for a moment then responded. “Well, you and I have the dead parents’ thing in common.” Roosters’ eyebrows raised. This was news to him. “We know about Phoenix. She has no desire to go see her dad. Jake is going back to Texas after we leave Tahoe to see his family. Coyote is going with Jake because his grandma passed away a couple years ago and she is the one that raised him. Fanboy has a sister in Tampa, but she is busy with her husband’s family, and he doesn’t like her husband. Not sure about Fritz or Omaha but suspicion is there’s something going on there.”

Roosters head snapped over to look at the WSO. “Hmm. That answers some lingering questions I have from flight school.” He said and Bob shrugged.

“Well,” he huffed as he shifted and rolled over onto his uninjured side, “if we aren’t one big fucked up happy family huh? Sorry to hear about your parents by the way.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Bob nodded but his face looked forlorn.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

Bob took a deep breath then spoke. “My dad left when I was young. I didn’t really know him, but he was killed by a drunk driver when I was in junior high. I barely remember anything about him. My mom had a heart attack when I was in high school. I think she died of a broken heart though. She really loved that man and when he walked out, she just seemed to lose herself. Thank goodness for my older sister, or I would have never had anything to eat.”

“Man I’m so sorry.” Was all Rooster could say. He was learning all sorts of new things today.

“Uh, mind if I ask about your parents?” Bob barely whispered, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“I guess it’s only fair since I asked first, huh?” and the corner of Bob’s mouth lifted some.

“My mom died of cancer when I was at UVA. My Dad, well,” he took a ragged breath, “that’s something I have to swear you to secrecy on. There’s only one other person I’ve told this to in my entire Naval career. It’s not something I want going around.”

Bob nodded and said “Of course.”

“I know I can trust you so here goes. My Dad was Mavericks RIO back in the 80’s.” Rooster watched as Bobs eyes went wider than he thought possible. He continued. “When I was three, they were sent to Top Gun. Mav flew through Admiral Kazanskys jetwash just a couple of days before graduation and couldn’t recover it. They punched out but my dad hit the canopy and that was that.”

“Wow” was all Bob said.

“Yeah. I don’t really remember him, but I know what it’s like to have a mom who never recovered from a broken heart.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s a hell of a secret to keep around here but I’m guessing that’s why all the trouble during training with Lieutenant Mitchell?” Bob asked.

“Yup” was Roosters only response and he went back to staring at the bunk above him. This was getting a little too deep for him and he needed Phoenix to come save him from his own thoughts

Bob turned back to his drawer and awkwardly began rummaging in it as a tap came at the door.

Oh, perfect timing.

Bob crossed to open the door and let Phoenix in, a cardboard food box and two bottles of water in her hands. She moved directly to his rack, placing the food container and one bottle on Paybacks bed above him then she opened the other bottle and took a long swig of it.

After she swallowed, she took a big breath and asked “Did yall chat vacay plans?”

Bob nodded and replied, “Rooster thinks the seven of us should be able to take on Bagman if he becomes too unruly.”

Nat unceremoniously snorted at the comment. “We’ll drown him in the pool if we have to. I’m sure his daddy has good insurance.”

Both men laughed vigorously.

“I’m going to head up. See yall in a bit?” Bob asked.

Rooster put a thumb up, and Phoenix let out a “you bet” as Bob made his way out of the room.

Nat watched him go then turned to face Rooster, who hadn’t moved since she came in other than to raise his thumb just now. She crossed her arms as she looked down at him.

“Aren’t you southern boys supposed to stand for a lady?” she asked teasingly.

Bradley smirked, turned his head to meet her gaze, and grunted his reply “Under any other circumstance I would have already been up and standing at attention for you, Lieutenant. However, the large gash on my ribs says quiet you.” And gave her one of his thousand-watt smiles.

She snorted through laughter and put her hand out to him. Rooster sat up as far as he could without hitting his head then took her hand as he swung his legs over the side, placing his feet on the cold metal floor. The pain in his side wasn’t as pronounced. Good, the meds had kicked in. He stood slowly, her hands resting on his good side and right bicep as he went. Once he was fully standing neither of them moved and he heard her breath hitch. Her hands still touching his bare skin, their bodies mere inches away from each other. Rooster braved a slight glance down. It was hard to tell because his body was blocking most of the light, but he could tell she was staring straight at his chest, a look of panic mixed with deep contemplation resting on her brow.

They just stood there for what felt like an eternity. Rooster didn’t dare move. Her hands, pilots’ hands, although calloused, felt like the most amazing thing he had ever felt on his skin. Bradley decided he was done tap dancing around what he felt was becoming the inevitable. Sink or swim.

His right hand moved shakily to her hip, then slid around her lower back, nudging her closer until the gap was closed and her body was pressed to his. His left hand reached up and moved a strand of hair from her cheek, then his fingers caressed down her jaw, coming to rest on her chin. She never moved her hands or looked up. He could feel her body tense with nerves under his hands.

He slowly raised her chin, getting little resistance, much to his surprise. He licked his lips as their eyes met. He plummeted into her sparkling eyes, asking for permission with his own. When she said nothing, he made his move. Lowering his head slowly as he raised her chin a little more, her eyes remained on his until their noses touched, then both closed their eyes as their lips met tenderly. It was one soft and slow kiss. Chaste. And it was the most beautiful moment of his life. Every inch of his body felt on fire but in the best possible way.

She pulled away ever so slightly and he cracked his eyes to see her reaction. She remained stark still, her eyes still closed, her breath shuddering.

Bradley’s hand slid from her chin, down her neck, and slid under her arm to wrap around her upper back. She was so still he thought she could be a statue. Obviously scared. He needed her to say something, or he could kiss her again. He decided to see if lightening could strike twice.

With her eyes still closed, he pulled her closer and dipped his head to meet her lips again. This time though, he felt her relax some, and he took that as his chance to deepen the kiss a little. It was still slow and tentative but lasted much longer than the first.

His head was swimming. Bradley never knew what total bliss felt like until this moment. Her lips were soft and melded so perfectly with his. She began to melt into him, and he let out an involuntary hiss as her weight shifted more into his torso. She snapped back so fast he almost fell sideways. Natasha’s back hit the bunk behind her, her eyes wide, fear racing across her face. She let out a small squeak as her back hit the bed and her hands flew to her face, covering her mouth. Her eyes darted to the bandage on his right side then back to meet his.

“Did I hurt you? Oh gosh, I’m sorry Bradley. I didn’t mean to.”

He looked at her bewildered then chuckled. He reached up his hands and wrapped them gently around her wrists, pulling her hands from her face and bringing them to rest on his chest. Nat’s face still looked completely full of worry, but he just smirked at her.

“The only thing that hurt was you pulling away while I was trying to do this.” He said slyly as he bent his head to capture her lips once more. This time slightly more forceful, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. With her hands resting on his chest, he slid his around her waist, this time ignoring the slight twinge in his side. She relaxed immediately but didn’t rest her full body weight on him this time.

The kiss felt more desperate though. As their lips danced, his tongue slid across her bottom lip and she responded accordingly, parting her lips to let him in. His tongue gently swept over hers and she let out a soft moan.

Oh. My. God.

This was really happening and something dark took over Bradley. He had been waiting for this moment for years and it was pure heaven on the high seas. Her arms moved up to wrap around the back of his neck and he lifted her small frame up until she was on her tip toes. He couldn’t get close enough to her.

Their tongues rolled languidly together as they suppressed moans and breathed each other in. She smelled of the sea and jet fuel and something fruity. It may have been an odd combination, but it was perfect to him. His hands bunched into the back of her t-shirt while Nat’s hands gripped the back of his neck and head.

Minutes became hours, and to Bradley the whole world came to a complete stop. This was it for him. He wanted to stay in this breathtaking moment with his fire bird forever. No amount of time in a jet would ever hold a cancel to this kiss.

All too soon though, he could feel her slowly moving her head away as she let out small pants and her eyes fluttered open.

Something had changed. Her face flushing, her eyes even more dark than they already were. He had never seen her more gorgeous than in that moment as she looked at him and smirked that smirk he loved so much.

She whispered through her smirk, “That was something, huh?”

Bradley brought his forehead down to meet hers and let out a small chuckle. “It was fucking awesome is what it was.”

She giggled then took a tiny step back, but he didn’t want to let go, so he tightened his grip around her shirt and smiled.

“Are you holding me captive now, Lieutenant?” she asked in a rather flirty manner.

“Don’t tempt me.” Was his only reply.

She smiled at him, then reached up to plant a tiny kiss on his left cheek. “It was fucking awesome for me too.” She stated playfully. “But. It’s swim time and I think our absence would be noticed.” She whispered as she slid his hands from around her. His loud and exasperated groan made her laugh even more and she slipped past him to stand near the door.

Roosters’ hands came to rest on the bunk in front of him, his head hung down to his chest. He had a growing problem that needed to subside before walking into public. Yup, she would be the death of him.

He stood and crossed to her. “That was incredibly unfair, you know?”

“You started it.” Was her deadpan replay.

He conceded “fair enough”.

“You going up in just shorts?” she asked, smirking as her dark orbs wandered down to the black shorts he was wearing.

He prayed she couldn’t see the bulge that was slowly lowering under the thin fabric he was wearing.

He stammered then finally spit out “Uh no. I, uh, need to find a shirt and some shoes.”

“I’ll wait in the hall while you get yourself together.”

She turned to leave but he reached up with his hands and gently grabbed her shoulders to stop her. He took a step forward, his upper body meeting her back, and lowered his head to her ear. His voice almost failed him as he breathed into her ear “I imagine that was hard for you, but I hope you know just how wonderful that was for me? Thank you.” and he pecked her on her cheek, near her ear.

She smiled a small smile, bringing her hand up to rest on top of his. “Wonderful doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Then she reached for the door but turned to look at him as she opened it. “Now we have to go pretend nothing happened.” And her grin faded a little. “Don’t take too long.” She caressed his cheek with her hand then vanished with the click of the door behind her.

Rooster let out a huge, exasperated breath and turned to rest his back on the door.

Wow.

That was the only word that came to mind through his brain fog. Followed immediately by

What now?

He rubbed his face with his hands and let out a long, drawn-out grumble. They kissed. They fucking kissed and it was. Well, there were no words for it. This time next week they would be in the snow of Tahoe, not alone but close to it. Oh the stars were aligning all too perfectly, he thought. Maybe, just maybe they would be able to make this work, in some form or fashion.

Deep in thought, Rooster was startled when someone attempted to open the door behind him. He moved as quickly as he could out of the way as Payback and Fanboy entered the room.

“Hey man, you, ok? Were you leaning on the door? Sorry if I hit you.” Payback asked as he brought his fist up, and Rooster bumped his knuckles in return.

“I think I’ll live. And yeah, I was. Stopped to take a breath before getting dressed. Moving is a bitch.”

“Phoenix said that thing is gnarly. You’ll have to take the bandage off later and share all the gory details. Did you know she’s standing in the hall?” Fanboy asked as he removed a towel from the bunk above Bobs.

Rooster laughed. “Yeah, she’s waiting on my slow ass, and we can have show and tell after the swim. Yall heading up?”

“Someone here forgot his towel.” He rolled his eyes and pointed to Fanboy who just scoffed in mock offense. “We’re ready if you are?” Payback asked. Rooster nodded “Let me just grab my shirt and stuff.” He said and threw on his Hawaiian shirt and shades then slipped a pair of deck shoes on. He reached up to grab his food box and bottle of water then turned to face them. The other two gentlemen rolled their eyes as they exited through the door.

“Dude. I don’t think that thing is regulation.” Payback threw over his shoulder while walking, pointing at his shirt with a big toothy smile.

“So I’ve heard.” He rebutted through a chuckle as he bumped knuckles with Phoenix in the hall. A knowing grin on his face, her trademark smirk on hers.

“Ready to go sit on your ass some more?” She teased.

“Ready to take a 30-foot plunge into some cold water?” He shot back.

“Hell yeah.” She said enthusiastically and they began to walk down the hall, their arms brushing against each other’s with a little extra pep in their steps.

Chapter 8 ->

[veryflirtytransportalate]

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"I'm calling it right here. This world can officially bite my ass." - Sizz'el the Lone Survivor, a nickname she did not get to pick

Throwback to a punch-up I got into a little while ago - you can tell because I hadn't yet trusted a random settler at Starlight Drive-In to laser the tattoo off my eye yet. I loved that tattoo, glad it's gone. You can't imagine how much easier my self image cultivation has become since building all those little towns in the Commonwealth! Preston thinks we're a civil defense oriented militia, meanwhile I had to send back the first test print of t-shirts for "Sexy Sizz'el's Pure Water & Mutfruit Emporium". Every so often they have a chore for me, but when that isn't the case and my knuckles need dusting, I don't usually have to wait long.

On this particular day I'd bopped down to Concord to go shoot some photos at the old museum when what do I spy with my little eyes but a whole bunch of guys just waiting to die. So, I changed into the Silver Shroud outfit I've been lugging around and did a couple kinds of shooting. I don't understand why raiders attack on site - I've mowed down hundreds of them by now. Who's doing their intel? I know they hang out as raider groups but how?! Even when I look just like them I get a laser hello. I look better in this fit though, which is good, because I have tried to throw it away like two dozen times. Piper insists I don't throw out this old nasty costume. I literally can't even fit my head in the hat, but she insists, "It's priceless, it's an heirloom, there's a radio show about it," which, that show is... not good. I literally can't put it down. Someone help me.

The museum is apparently some kind of hotspot, but ever since I took the power armor (shout out to my Atom Cats, meow you wild sons of kittens) and the minigun it's like... for what? Tacky outfits and rotten wood? But, what do I know. I'm just the single most brilliant business woman and devastating bombshell this wasteland has seen since... I'd... like to... rephrase, that last thought.

(Outfit credits, my thoughts, and a few more shots below the cut.)

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I'm pretty sure Sizz'el is wearing crimsomrider's 1950's Feminine Outfits (opens in new tab), Silver Shroud with stockings. The large caliber rifle is the Modular Simonov PTRS-41 by kazumamqi (opens in new tab), and the laser on the bottom is the CROSS_BreakActionLaser by Niero (opens in new tab). Phew, that was a lot of 'um this time, jeez.

I wander into Concord from time to time, whenever I want to just relax and kick back with the combat side of the game. A couple of Brotherhood of Steel dudes plopped in at the end and cleaned up, which was fine, I guess. We're not hostile with each other... I wanna say "yet", but, to be decided.

I like the feeling of combat in Fallout 4, but as you can imagine, I've made a number of major modifications. First, which I've shared before, I've completely rebalanced damage (and have to continuously to make it stay balanced): I, the player, deal a 3x more damage than normal. Everyone else deals 5x more. I love the feeling of games like S.T.A.L.K.E.R. and Far Cry 2 (with that one mod) - when the time between seeing someone and being dead is a breath.

With that in place, I also made two major mechanical changes: first and less impactful is the removal of an AP cost to sprinting, thanks to Unlimited Sprint by TroyIrving (opens in new tab). Sprinting is already an inherent tactical decision, costing precious time, and removing your ability to reload or fire. When the game was slower and more about draining health pools, it made sense to limit this to a gauge... maaaaybe? I think AP draining sprinting is a funking dumb choice in basically any version of this game, but, I'm not a professional game developer so, what do I know.

Second, and this is the big one... bullet time. I use V.A.F.S. Redux by Itzal713 (opens in new tab). I love bullet time. I love it so much. Stranglehold is actually a childhood favorite of mine. I think it's so cool to dip and dodge and do cool stuff like jump over a table and then fire on someone, and it also makes taking pictures in the middle of a fire fight way easier. It's not balanced. It's just fun.

So it's easy to die, bullet time, added some big weapons... I never thought of it before but I've kind of turned Fallout 4 into F.E.A.R. 1. And everybody loves the combat in that game, so... win for me. I rule. Go me.

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[silverstarfics]

Me? Posting this a day late? Nooo, totally not. Shhh, it’s definitely still the 21st June and I absolutely haven’t missed @thunder-pride bisexual day...

Okay, fine. I started writing at 23:30 and by the time I finished this I was too tired to proof it. But hey, it’s finally here! Welcome to the Scott/Tycho fic that was meant to be funny but somehow ended up being angsty? Why am I even surprised anymore...

AO3 link

Tonight was a classic example of why Scott hated PR events. Nearly everybody was fake – letting expensive labels speak for them or sucking up in the hopes of a power grab – and there were eyes everywhere. There was no escape.

And it should have been easier because at least this time he’d had an ally in the room, only they couldn’t be seen to be talking because the press were already sniffing around and they both knew that their relationship would be a big conversation.

Scott was determined to keep it private for as long as possible. He’d been through this before. Every time the tabloid headlines proved too much for his partners and the relationship inevitably crashed and burned. He refused to let it happen again. Not this time. Especially not when he’d really started to fall for a certain person.

“Are you still sulking?” Tycho discarded his suit jacket as though it were a used tissue rather than a very expensive example of Italian tailoring. “Because if anyone has the right to sulk, it’s me. I had to watch a lot of very pretty women flirting with my boyfriend.”

It was a relief to be home. Scott finally let the tension drain from his shoulders as he glanced at Tycho over the kitchen island. Tycho flopped grandly onto the couch and offered him a sunny smile which proved that he wasn’t truly annoyed. If anything, there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Five hours,” Scott complained. It was possible that he was being a little overdramatic. “Five hours of corporate bullshit. Do you know what’s even worse? I had to flirt back. Just for appearances’ sake. Because the PR team say I have an image to maintain.”

“Business is better when the CEO is hot and single.”

“Yay,” he deadpanned. “So, I have to pretend to be perpetually single. Great.”

Tycho leaned back against the couch with a fond smile. “I feel like you’re focussing on the wrong part. Take it as a compliment.”

“Nah, Scotty’s crap at that,” Gordon piped up, seemingly materialising out of thin air. It was approaching one in the morning, so there was no reason for him to be in the pool, but he had a yellow towel slung around his shoulders and was steadily dripping water onto the floorboards.

Tycho jumped. “How many times do we have to discuss this? Stop sneaking up on me.”

Gordon’s grin was full of teeth. “It’s an initiation process. When you get used to it, you’re officially a part of the family.”

“Do I want to be? Seems like a nightmare.”

“Oh, yeah, it totally is,” Gordon confirmed. “But dating Scooter means you get all of us too. It’s a joint package. It’s great fun! Just wait until John does creepy shit like randomly appearing above the holoprojector in your room at five in the morning.”

“Gordon,” Scott sighed.

Tycho raised a brow. “John’s going to do what now?”

“John is not going to do anything,” Scott cut in with a meaningful glare at the nearest projector.

Even if their Eye in the Sky wasn’t awake, EOS would undoubtedly pass the message along. It was bad enough dealing with his planet-based siblings, let alone John’s various schemes. The second his family had realised he was actually serious about this relationship, they’d taken it upon themselves to check if Tycho was suitable, to quote. It was funny right up until Kayo’s overprotective streak had made an appearance. Tycho probably still had nightmares.

Gordon sidled across the floor, then whispered something to Tycho. Scott knew that distinctly mischievous grin. He knew it all too well. It was always the precursor to trouble. It was made so much worse by the way Tycho’s face lit up with a slowly dawning smile.

Scott eyed them suspiciously “What?”

“Nothing,” Gordon sing songed. “I’m just… you know. Catching up. Becoming besties. Reminding Tycho of the way you become a flustered mess whenever someone you genuinely like flirts with you.”

Scott stared at him for a long moment. “That’s such crap. And why are you even here? Go to bed and stop bothering us.”

“Uh huh. Okay. Sure.” Gordon made no attempt to move. “You are the worst at taking compliments.”

“I am not-” Scott took a steadying breath. “I get compliments all the time. Such as this evening.”

“Nope. Doesn’t count. I’m talking about genuine compliments.”

“Shut up, Gordon.”

“No, no.” Tycho had a wicked grin on his face. “Keep going.”

Gordon let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, really? Well then. Scott will have, like, an actual meltdown if you tell him-”

“Gordon, I swear to God, I’m gonna disinherit you. I’ll do it. Just one more word and I’ll call my lawyer.”

“Do it, I dare you.”

“You think I’m bluffing?”

“I think you’ll turn the same shade as Three if Tycho says you did a good job tonight.”

The situation was swiftly spiralling out of control. Scott let out a loud, obviously fake laugh and tried to play it off as casual. He glared at Gordon, trying to communicate an increasingly desperate hope for him to leave, because sure, maybe this was hilarious to the squid, but Scott kind of wanted to sink through the floor and maybe burn up in the Earth’s mantle right now.

It was made worse by the way Tycho’s smile faltered as he glimpsed Scott’s genuine unease. “Wait. This isn’t just a joke?”

“Can we not… not do this?” Scott gripped the edge of the counter until his knuckles paled. His voice sounded horribly strained even to his own ears. “I’m sure it’s really funny, but I think I lost my sense of humour about three hours ago. So. Can we just… not?”

Gordon’s amusement faded. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care what you meant, Gordon.” Scott cursed the hint of betrayal which had crept into his tone. He snatched his discarded jacket from the counter and shouldered past his brother which hadn’t been his best idea to date given Gordon was still soaking wet. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Scott,” Tycho called, voice pitched with honest concern.

“Scooter? C’mon, I was just joking around. I didn’t mean it seriously.” Gordon’s bare feet smacked against the floorboards as he broke into a jog to catch up. “Hey, Scott! Jeez, would you wait up for a second?”

“What?” Scott whirled on him. Gordon’s eyes widened as the shout faded in the dark corridor. For all the times he’d driven Scott up the wall, it was still rare for him to actually snap. “What is it now?”

Gordon hesitated. “I just wanted to-”

“Wanted to what? Make another joke? At my expense? Jokes are supposed to be funny. I don’t know, maybe you do find it funny. It’s hilarious that I can’t take compliments because the only time anyone gives me one is when they want something from me. Go ahead and laugh. But I’ve had a shit evening so I’m having a few problems seeing the humour in it.”

The silence dragged on for a painfully long minute.

“You never told me that,” Gordon whispered.

“Then congrats. Now you know.”

Scott wasn’t angry as such – mostly just hurt because Gordon’s jokes rarely crossed the line into downright cruel – and so still experienced a rush of regret because his little brother looked as though he’d been slapped.

“Get some sleep, Gords,” he muttered, more softly this time. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, Scott, really. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, bud,” he sighed. “I know you are.”

“Are we okay?”

“Are we…? Of course we are.” He shook his head at the sight of Gordon’s relieved smile. “Dumbass.”

What might not have been alright was his relationship, but that was an issue he didn’t want to consider until he’d slept for a few hours. He retreated to his room and finally changed out of the cursed suit. He was still trying to coax creases out of the jacket when the door closed and he sensed another’s presence in the room. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“I considered giving you some space,” Tycho began cautiously, “But then I couldn’t help myself.” There was something unbearably gentle in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Scott didn’t look up from the jacket. He’d crumpled more creases into the fabric by curling his fists in it but he didn’t know how else to control the wealth of feeling in his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Gordon poked at a subject he knows I’m uncomfortable with, that’s all.”

He could sense Tycho standing just a few feet away, uncertain as to how to proceed. It was the wrong side of too late to even think anymore, but Scott was reluctant to postpone this conversation until tomorrow. He’d done this before. He knew how it went.

People liked the idea of him – the persona carefully curated for the public – but fled as soon as they glimpsed the broken pieces beneath the mask. But he hated how much it was going to hurt this time. It was almost enough to make him turn around and pretend that there’d been no harm done, that it had just been an overreaction on his half, anything to give him just a few more hours of being loved.

“If you want to leave,” he said heavily, “I won’t hold it against you.”

Tycho visibly double took. “Sorry, what? Why would I want to…? I’m very confused right now, which is rare for me. What is this? What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you an easy out. I won’t judge you for taking it.”

“I don’t want out. I want you. I’ve made that very clear over the past couple of months.”

“Yeah, well.” Scott still couldn’t look at him. “Everyone wants me until they realise- I’m not easy to love. I get that. There’s always a point when people recognise that I’m more than they signed up for. And they leave. So, if you’re going to do that, I’d rather you did so now, because it’s already gonna hurt like hell and it’ll only get worse the longer you stay.”

“Scott.”

“I’m not going to do… this. Just- Okay, it’s late, so don’t leave, but there’s a spare room down the hall. I can drop you home tomorrow.”

“Would you let me get a word in edgeways?” Tycho’s fond exasperation was tainted by concern. He stepped closer to brush a hand against Scott’s arm. “It’s very easy to love you. It’s a little harder to know you, I’ll admit that, but only because you’re constantly trying to keep from letting anyone in. But loving you? That’s not a challenge.”

Scott searched for his voice and found only a pathetically small croak. “Okay.”

Tycho’s tiny huff suggested that he was trying to hold back a laugh. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Look at me?” Tycho’s murmur seemed so very loud in their silent room. And that thought in itself was a rush because when had his become theirs? “Please?”

Scott finally dropped the jacket onto the chair and twisted to face him. He was hyperaware of his own heartbeat – frantic with fear because vulnerability was so much worse than a dangerous rescue – and the burn behind his eyes. Tycho took a final step closer, running a hand up his arm to cradle his face – no judgement, just pure affection – and he wasn’t sure what to do with that acceptance.

“This entire time,” Tycho continued softly, “I’ve been worried that you’ll call this off. Because the first time we met, you were risking your life for mine. How can I possibly match up to that? If you look up hero in the dictionary, you’ll find your name beside it. Now, me? I have ideas. Fantastic, revolutionary ideas. But I’m not selfless. I don’t pretend to be. So, it baffles me that out of the two of us, you’re the one who believes he’s difficult to love.”

Scott lowered his forehead to Tycho’s shoulder. Fingers curled around the nape of his neck, easing away tension, moving to run through his hair. He exhaled shakily and let himself be held.

“You’re clever. You’re compassionate. You’re remarkable. I could go on for hours.” Tycho’s smile was audible in his voice as he added, “Oh, and by the way? You did a great job tonight.”

Scott swatted him half-heartedly. “Shut up.”

“You know I had to say it.”

“Hmm.”

“I love you,” Tycho promised. “And I’m not going anywhere. Even if your brothers do try to give me the shovel talk every time I visit.”

“Oh, god.”

“Alan’s the worst offender which makes it harder because I always want to laugh. He’s just not intimidating in the slightest. That being said, I do agree with them. If I hurt you at all, I will happily hand myself over so that Kayo can complete her oddly specific list of threats.”

Scott gave a tired laugh. “They mean well.”

Tycho shot him an affectionate smile. “I know they do. They love you. And so do I.”

[starlightwalked]

Doc don’t get mad at me but I mighta sorta told a joke to President Lincoln about that time I was a vampire and I mighta sorta done it just to see if he really was a vampire hunter and now he might kinda sorta possibly want to hunt me down and kill me because he may possibly be in fact a real vampire hunter who gets super pissed at the idea of any and all vampires, cured or not, existing in his vicinity so… (love u 12, from hudson)

Their head is in their free hand upon immediately hearing the voice, even before it gets as far as uttering the first annoyingly monosyllabic word. After all they've seen and done, there's very few things left in existence that hold the power to physically make them feel the will to live being drained from every individual cell in their body and pooling out into some completely inaccessible pocket dimension, leaving them a husk slumped over the TARDIS controls.

The drivel that passes for human speech currently pouring into their ear through the phone outdoes them all by miles.

When the auditory onslaught finally, mercifully, ends after what must've been a very long epoch of several universes, they manage to draw in a sharp breath and stand up straight while rubbing eyes suddenly weary under the weight of all their centuries. At least their hair hadn't deflated. "Yeah, old Abe's a wild one," they mutter, barely attempting to muster a degree of sympathy. "Right. Bear with me, I'll get there an' sort you out. 'Cept I did just accidentally jump a time track and the synchronous rebound's gonna be hell. Should manage to be there in, ohh...two days? You'll be fine for tha' long. Just don't tell him you're in a cent, might egg him on even more. In fact just hide somewhere and don't speak to anyone. See how well that goes and maybe think about adoptin' the approach for the rest of your life. Good luck, got to go."

Before Hudson could even splutter a barely coherent warm-up to a response, the phone is slammed back in its holder. When Clara's voice calls out from the wardrobe in the TARDIS asking who it was, they gruffly tell her wrong number. Then they sit back in the jumpseat, prop their feet on the edge of the console, and get back to tuning their guitar. They were due on in half an hour, and wouldn't want to let Freddie down while Brian fought for his life in the backstage bathroom.

[pubbydreams]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨) ⁠— [𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰]

pairing: steddie fic summary: after two months of ignoring their increasing thoughts about one another, steve and eddie struggle to put themselves out of their misery. fic content notes: depiction of an autistic meltdown, internalized homophobia, nsfw - mdni, referenced past child abuse (emotional & verbal). preview notes: angst (i think that's it but pls let me know otherwise) preview wc: 793

“One,” she retorts, “I’m an academic scholar—”

“Ruth was an academic scholar,” he snorts.

“I was Rose, dingus. And fine, maybe she didn’t, but what, was I supposed to just leave you out here sulking all by yourself?” She stresses like he’s completely out to lunch.

“I’m— I wasn’t sulking!” He sneers, furious at just how quickly and easily she’s able to burrow under his skin.

“Steve, I could hear you wallowing from the other side of campus,” she whines, “it was majorly messing with my mojo.”

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not sure what to say to that, and he’s way too tired to try to come up with something witty or sarcastic, so he just drops it. Anyway, she’s technically right, ‘cause he’s absolutely sulking. Not that he can really help it, but whatever.

“So…”

His heart may have finally calmed down, but her tone spikes his anxiety right back up again. If she’s going to dance around whatever it is, it must be bad, and he really doesn’t want to deal with bad right now, but he’d rather deal with it now than in five minutes or however long it takes for her to get to the point.

“Robin, whatever it is just say it, alright?” He begs, palms going a little sweaty.

She sucks a deep breath in through her teeth, and stretches her arms in front of her, biding her time in spite of him. Asshole.

“No, it’s nothing,” she lies, “I just wanted to know how you and Eddie are doing.”

“Me and Eddie?” He asks, ears going hot at the idea of there being a ‘him and Eddie.’

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got this weird thing going on, right?” She probes, suddenly really fascinated by the zipper on her backpack.

Alright, yeah, no, he’s not dealing with this.

“There is no thing going on,” he corrects.

“OK,” Robin mutters before ticking off his sins on her fingers, “I catch you canoodling in the den, you invite him to the pool party, the two of you disappear for like, an hour, then he runs out without saying goodbye—which you got super sad over, by the way—and, like, every single time I’ve mentioned him this last week you’ve gotten all weird.”

“I do not get weird!” He protests. “And we were not canoodling!”

As much as he hates to admit it, she’s right, and it sucks. What’s worse is that it’s been that obvious. In his own head, he’s actually been kind of proud of himself, thinking he’s done an alright job at hiding just how much it hurts to constantly be left with an Eddie shaped hole in his chest. What happened to him? He used to be better at hiding things, didn’t he?

She frowns, and it looks like it’s made of pity which makes him sick. “Look, Steve, as much as it pains me to say it, you’re my best friend. Do you really think I wouldn’t notice—"

“Robin. There’s nothing to notice. We’re friends. It’s just…it’s taking a bit to break in,” he insists, hating how goddamn defensive he sounds.

As far as best friends go, he’s really lucked out because the minute things get too heavy, she always backs out. Things are just about as heavy as they can get outside of the world ending, so he watches as the fight drains out of her.

“Fine, I’ll drop it. But Steve, in the Upside down…I know what it looks like to look at someone the way he looks at you,” she confesses, her words coming out all slow and serious.

As far as best friends go, he’s not sure he’s got a good one, ‘cause for as much as she claims to know about him, Robin doesn’t know a damn thing. If anything, he’s the one looking at Eddie. If anything, he’s the Robin, and Eddie’s Tammy Thompson. Yeah, sure, Eddie’s eyes are technically on him, but it’s temporary and doesn’t mean much more than a shaky friendship and mutually beneficial whatever. The look she thinks she’s seeing isn’t there. He should know.

“It’s not like that,” he stresses through a mutter.

She doesn’t believe him, obviously she doesn’t believe him, and she’s looking at him with so much understanding and disappointment he just wants to shrivel up and die.

“OK,” she says just as quietly.

It isn’t there, and it’s never going to be there, and the sooner he, and Robin, and whoever else accepts that, the better. Even if he’s going to milk every single second of Eddie’s attention—and do everything in his power to keep the focus on him—it’s silly and destructive to pretend that it means any more than it does.

hai, i'm pubby! if you enjoyed this little excerpt, please consider checking out the full fic on ao3!! have a great day!! ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა

read on ao3! ♡ masterlist ♡ kofi

[alarajrogers]

Water also destroys computers, and anything that runs off electricity, so the odds that this cooling process involves dumping the water straight up directly onto the machines seems really, really unlikely. I would assume that water heat sinks involve pumping cold water through pipes in the machines, not literally dumping water on computers.

The ocean is very, very, very, very big. Also rising. If you consumed as much ocean water as there is drinkable water on the planet, you'd see an effect, sure, but you could literally remove billions of gallons of water from the ocean and have it be a proverbial "drop in the bucket". Since the tides are constantly sloshing the water in the ocean around, there will be no local "we drained a lot of water in this one coastal region so now the water is low there" effects; drain water in one region and the tide will fill it back in more or less instantly. It's the ocean, not a lake.

What you'd have to be careful about is the impact on fish and other sea life so they don't get sucked into the pipeline. Fine grates, maybe pumping in pulses so if a fish gets sucked against the grate the suction will be gone in a second so they can get out of there... maybe there are sounds or colors that could be employed underwater that would drive most sea life away. Don't put the entrance to the pipeline on the beach or directly on the sea bed; it should probably sit inside the water at a reasonably deep coastal level but with plenty of clearance, so as to not suck in sessile creatures who live on the bottom.

The pipeline itself would consume electricity -- the ocean's at the bottom of the gravity well of the planet's surface, you can't use gravity to passively pull the water back out. But by employing wave turbines, you can recapture a lot of the energy you put into pumping back out as power you can reuse. No such thing as a perpetual motion machine, but if by using seawater to fuel solar steam plants in places like deserts you can make back more energy than you had before, you've got a net positive outcome in terms of energy.

Issues to consider:

A salt water pipe breaking would be almost as toxic as an oil pipe breaking. And salt's corrosive to metal. You'd have to be careful what you made it out of, be constantly checking, and have baffles that will drop the moment there's a loss of local water pressure anywhere in the pipe, and a means of instantly and automatically stopping the pump if that happens. And protection of the pipeline to stop bad actors from deliberate sabotage.

Solar power plants can have an impact on the local environment if they block sun that plants and animals need. On the other hand, global warming suggests that what plants and animals need right now is a lot less sun overall, so creating areas of shade in places that don't have them might actually be good for the life in those places.

The whole system requires a lot of industries to cooperate. If solar steam plants or data centers dump their salt in giant piles in the desert rather than letting spice companies sell it as sea salt, this could be very bad for the environment. If rich people are allowed to fill their swimming pools with it, this has enormous political benefits for the pipeline because as soon as the rich feel entitled to it, they will make sure it stays working and stable, but then what happens if the data centers need more and more?

I don't pretend to have all the answers but I don't think any of the difficulties are insurmountable. Humans are using very, very little of the resource of ocean water, on a planetary basis... a resource we're getting more and more of as the seas rise, and as the heat dries up freshwater sources on land, we're going to need desalinization on a massive scale. Integrate that desalinization with industries that need to use water but it doesn't have to be fresh water, especially industries that could turn moving water or heated water into power in a way that's clean, and we could build a system that helps to solve multiple problems at once.

(BTW, this is not an issue of AI. This is an issue of data centers. The whole goddamn internet is to blame, not just AI, and even if AI collapsed and burned tomorrow we would still need to do something about cooling our data centers without using up drinkable water.)

[ocean-anchored]

August 14, 2023 continued...

I wanted to go home. I stopped drinking so I could drive because Church is important to me and I wanted to make it the next morning. We met two fun irish guys that we kept playing with & chatting to. I kept saying I was ready to go home, if he wanted to stay he could - even though deep down I was terrified of what that evening could turn into if he had stayed alone. As the one guy kept talking about his ex girlfriend and relationship he continued to resignate with him. How "girls need to understand how simple I am and that I'm not emotional. I don't speak my feelings, I don't need to act on it. I'm where I say I am and I don't have to spend all my time with them" He looked at me and said " see babe, I'm not the only one" it crushed me. More than he knew. Not because he related to another man that couldn't express his feelings, but because I realized in that moment that it wouldn't work out anymore. I was sad. Now I really wanted to go home which I reiterated again. He said he was ready and we could go. I went to the bathroom & when I came back he was racking up another game of pool. I told him I was leaving. He was staying. I walked out realizing again that this wasn't going to work anymore. He did call me before I left, thank God he had some sense in him. We didn't talk the whole drive home. Nor when we got home. I got ready for bed and laid down. When he was finally done he came in and it's like a light switched again, he was lovey and touchy. I was grumpy and sad. I was tired and emotionally drained, I felt disconnected. And when I wasn't as excited and happy as he was, he said "you're always so grouchy" and that was it. Tired of the "jokes". We went to bed. I got up and took nova out. Maybe then I should have been a little sweeter. Maybe I should have rolled over and kissed him before I got up but I didnt. I was tired and still frustrated. When he came down stairs & I came by he was quite. I said good morning and he was cold. I got ready for Church and when I came down he said he was going to head out. It's fine I told myself. It was just another disconnected moment between us. I said if I was coming over that I wouldn't be over till the later night. I carried on my day, expecting not to hear from him. He texted me before 2pm asking if I wanted to do something in the city. I told him I was at the marda loop fest. Another hour later, yes I understand that I should have answered his first call. I could have been better at communicating but I also didn't really want to see him. I spent the afternoon with Jeremiah and his friend walking around and it was a nice day. He called again and it didn't make sense that he would come all the way into the city for two hours before we go back to his place. Once again, fine. I knew I shouldn't have gone last night. I wasn't in a good headspace to talk to him. But once again I pushed through and I showed up, which once again he was cold when I arrived. Immediately grilled me on going to the fest with Jeremiah. Which turned into an immediate fight again, I felt his anger swell up. Here we go again. I wasn't having it so I said I was done and I grabbed my bag. He said "I'm done, we're just not meant to be." and I replied with "because you never trust me" as I walked out the door. he texted me in minutes. "You're right I dont trust you. I don't want to do this anymore, I wish you the best" my heart sank because now it was mutual. I went back for my desk which he was silent for and I left. Surprise surprise that he texted only two hours later of how It wasn't my fault and he needed to work on himself. I shake my head. How stupid am I. How foolish am I. How broken am I.