#and she just answered that she doesn’t even want an application and she would be glad to have me as her intern?

[sh0ek0]

You know that feeling when you chronically always procrastinate everything in your life and think to yourself "oh, this will work out somehow" and then it actually does work out somehow and you have that nagging feeling that it's going too easy? It's been like that my whole life and I can't shake the feeling that the universe is plotting something against me

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Hiii love 🩷

Could you please make a reader X Tommy, where you take care of Charlie and he slowly falls in love with the reader. At first he denies it but after sometime he can’t take it anymore !! Fluff and happy ending please

Love your writing by the way ⭐️🩷

Hey Lovelie! Thank you so much for this request and the lovely comment , I’d gladly do this for you!

Italics: flashback.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST THIS ANYWAY ELSE OR TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.

Summery: request above

[Y/N]: Your name

[L/N]: Last name.

Word count: 2,516

Thomas Shelby. The name of the man that you have loved for the past two years. The man you knew would change your life the moment you set foot into his office for an interview to be a live in maid for his young son, charlie.

The blood pumped through your veins, making your head feel like it would burst at any point. You sent an application to Thomas Shelby secretary for the job but you did not expect to get an answer. So when you got a reply asking for an interview less then three days later, the shock that you were in was explainable.

You knock on the door, waiting to hear the voice of the man you were secretly afraid of.

“ come in” the voice vibrates through the atmosphere

You turn the old doorknob then push the door open, gliding your body through the door. The sound of the door creaking made Tommy lift his head up from his paperwork.

The feeling of your world stops as you make eye contact for the first time with the man with the eyes that could kill.

One month into the job

Thomas smiles slightly and takes off his jacket just as Francis rushes over to him.

“Good evening mr Shelby, dinner should be served soon” the middle aged woman explained, taking Thomas jacket gently.

Thomas doesn’t say a word, taking a cigarette out of his pouch from his trouser pocket. He looks towards Francis, lighting the cigarette.

“Where’s my son?” He questioned curiously.

Before tommys maid could respond, Charlie rushes around the corner from the main room “ daddy” he squeals, running towards Tommy.

Thomas kneels down “ Charlie, my boy” he catches Charlie as he jumps into his arms, Thomas stands up with Charlie in his arms.

Soon after, [Y/N] rushes around the corner with a face that can only be described as anxious. Her face was shiny most likely from running after the young boy.

“I am so sorry mr Shelby, i tried to stop him. I know you don’t like to be disrupted after work. I promise, I’ll make sure it won’t happen tomorrow” she rambles, clearly nervous that Thomas would be mad.

“No need to apologise, make sure that he is calm before he goes to bed, don’t want him to be cranky tomorrow” Thomas smirks slightly and gives Charlie over to [Y/N].

She nodded and quickly walks away, Charlie on his hip. Unknowingly, to [Y/N] mr Shelby was watching her with curiosity plaguing his mind.

Three months into the job.

Charlie had gone missing. Someone had taken him when Tommy was distracted with the guests, during a work event, he hadn’t noticed his young son being carried out through the door by a woman that passed as a maid.

Three hours had passed since [Y/N] had seen the young boy, she was nervously pacing the house, biting her already broken and fragile nails. An anxious trait she’s had since she was a young girl.

The sound of the front door rattling invaded the already chaotic atmosphere of the manor. The banging of doors signalled that Tommy was in his “beast mode”. This is when Tommy is on a mission and if you get in his way, you’ll most likely land with a bullet between your eyes. However, that hadn’t stopped The young maid. [Y/N] opened the door of Charlie’s room and begins to rush her sore feet towards the grand stairs.

“ mr Shelby” she calls out “ oh mr Shelby, is young Charlie been found” she asks, her voice full of worry.

[Y/N] stops her running when she sees the distressed young boy in his father’s arms, nearly making herself fall from the suddenness of the movement.

“ Francis take Charles” Thomas orders sternly, passing him over to his only trusted maid from that moment on.

The older maid nods and takes Charlie, taking the toddler upstairs. The air is so brittle, from the tension, it could snap. If it doesn’t, [Y/N] might. No one speaks, what is there to say?. [Y/N] could feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over her. Perhaps it was only there to protect her but there really isn’t any danger to be protected from. It sits there like an angry ball, propelling [Y/N] towards an anxiety she doesn’t need.

“ where were you miss [L/N]” Tommy questions, accusation filling his voice. His eyes could kill anyone. Those eyes are ocean-strong, swimming with warm sun-lit currents.

[Y/N] gulps, her throat feeling as if it was closing in on it self. Her mouth parts slightly but no words come out. Eventually, words were able to escape.

“ I’m so sorry mr Shelby, I looked away from him for one second, he wanted me to get his toy horse that he dropped, I gave him to another woman, she was dressed in a maids uniform” she explains, her eyes filling with unreleased tears.

Tommy sighs, watching as the young maid clearly showing signs of distress.

“ go back to work” the older man states, passing Charlie back over to [Y/N].

The young maid immediately takes Charlie into her arms, using one of her hands to wipe under her eyes “ of course mr Shelby” she nods.

As [Y/N] walks away, Tommy speaks up again “ have you had dinner miss [L/N]”.

“ no I have not mr.Shelby” [Y/N] replies, turning back around by the stairs, Charlie playing with her short hair.

Tommy nods “ after you put Charlie to bed, come to the kitchen, there will be food there for you” the older man announces, walking down the corridor towards the door leading to the kitchen.

As the months pass, Tommy and [Y/N] work relationship shifted, everybody can see it has except for the pair in question.

However, Tommy wouldn’t admit it. He still feels like he is in love with his deceased wife grace, he can’t get himself to move on. On the other hand, [Y/N] knew of her feelings towards her boss, who wouldn’t? Especially when you boss looks like Thomas fucking Shelby.

Present day

Over the past years that [Y/N] has worked for Tommy, she had gotten close to the women of the Shelby family, mainly polly. When [Y/N] wasn’t working, she was with polly.

Today was one of those days. Today, [Y/N] was helping polly with the books at the Shelby company betting shop. Tommy had given her the next few days off since she had worked for two weeks straight since Charlie was poorly with a fever.

“ fucking men” Polly grumbles, slamming down the book full of incorrect numbers and calculations.

[Y/N] chuckles from across the room as she corrects Arthur’s calculations “ men never cease to amaze you, do they pol?” She raises an eyebrow.

Polly lights her cigarette, taking a long inhale of the hazardous smoke “we are working our asses off whilst the men sit on theirs at the pub, getting god knows how drunk” the middled aged women rants, pointing to the door.

Polly smirks as she stands up “ come on, let’s go” Polly encourages, grabbing her purse.

[Y/N] frowns, dropping her pencil “ where are you going lol?” She asks confused but her eyes full of wonder at what Polly was planning.

“ I know a woman who knows a woman, she told me that the ladies of small heath are going out on strike, by the factories” Polly places her deep red hat on her curly brown hair as she raises an eyebrow at [Y/N].

The younger woman laughs “ you can’t be serious pol, Tommy would have your head” she warns.

“ not if he won’t find me” Polly puts her coat on.

[Y/N] bites her lip, she was conflicted. Her brain turns and twists as she argues with herself internally but eventually, only one side of her could win.

[Y/N] nods “ fuck em” she stands up “ I worked two weeks with his sick child and nothing but a thanks and a few days off work” [Y/N] rants, grabbing her coat.

Polly watches “ that’s my girl”.

Once the two woman get their stuff together, they walk out of the betting shop, Polly placing her sunglasses on her face, the women ignoring the men outside of the betting shop.

[Y/N] chuckles as she links her arm with pollys as they walk together towards the factories to join the woman of small heath.

The garrison pub

The Shelby men sat inside of their private corner room, celebrating Arthur’s recent news of Linda’s pregnancy. What they didn’t expect was another member of the blinders to come in and announce the women’s strike.

Tommy was about to make a speech when the door opens. A young man taking off his cap quickly catches his breath.

“ I’m sorry to disturb you mr Shelby, but I’ve just got word that mrs gray and miss [L/N} have walked out of the shop, claiming that they are striking for women’s rights in the work place” he explains.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, Arthur immediately standing up “ they what?” His drunken voice ripples through the small private room and into the main area of the pub.

Tommy holds his hand out to his brother “ now brother, this will be sorted” he stands up and grabs his cap, immediately following the younger member out of the pub, and towards where his aunt and his maid were currently causing chaos.

The Factories

The sound of the women cheering and chanting blocked the ability for [Y/N] ears to identity the sound of Tommy’s feet but as soon as his hand wrapped its self around her arm, she knew who it was and she knew she was in deep trouble.

Tommy’s breath sends goosebumps down her back as he leans down to speak into her ear “ come with me. Now” his voice quiet but clearly filled with demand.

[Y/N] didn’t say anything, her feet moving themselves in the direction that Tommy was guiding her. As they get further and further away from the other women, the noise of the chaos was slowly fading out.

“ Tommy, tommy please listen” [Y/N] began to protest but Tommy quickly cuts in.

“ what were you thinking [Y/N]. Do you know what this can do to the company” he states, letting go of her arm.

“ it’s not that serious tommy, me and pol weren’t protesting we were just watching” [Y/N] defends herself.

Tommy was about to respond when the sound of the police invading the strike, and women screaming as they get arrested. [Y/N] gasps as she gets shoved onto the floor, the wet gravel of small heaths pavements make contact with her hands. Small but painful cuts develop on her palms.

“ watch it” tommy yells at the woman that shoved [Y/N], clearly trying to run from the police.

“ I’m okay” [Y/N] reassures Tommy as she gently grabs his hand and stands up, Tommy patting down her dress since it had got mudded by the mud puddle on the path.

“ let’s go” Tommy grabs her hand and begins to pace to the garrison, away from the chaos. [Y/N]’s cheeks rise in temperature when she realises that tommys warm hand had engulfed her own. This is the kind of blushing that shows her soul, a compliment to the eyes and having a delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, it shows that the smile and shyness comes from deep emotions. Her blush is beautiful and something real.

The garrison pub.

The pub was quiet, the occasionally laugh or the occasional cough fills the deadly silence since the moment Tommy stormed out of the pub to find [Y/N].

Tommy guides [Y/N] towards the small corner room, his hand hovering on the small of her back, however the heat still penetrates through her dress and onto her skin.

[Y/N] smiles as she walks into the room, taking her coat off slowly “ thank you Tommy” she graciously sits on one of the seats, placing her purse onto the table.

Tommy watches her as he sits at his usual seat, once again taking a cigarette from his metal holder “ would you like a drink?” He asks gruffly.

“ no thank you, I don’t drink” [Y/N] admits.

Thomas raises an eyebrow “ don’t drink ey, what maid of mine doesn’t drink” he teases.

“ the maid that looks after your infant son” she jokes back.

Thomas lights the cigarette “ my son likes you miss [L/N]” he admits, raising an eyebrow.

[Y/N] smiles, looking down at her dress skirt for a few seconds before looking up towards Tommy. She had the kind of eyes that reach out to Tommy, much like a baby reaching out with open arms, clearly signaling what she wants.

“ do you have a husband miss [L/N]” Tommy takes a long inhale of the hazardous smoke for what seems like the hundredth time that day.

“ please, call me [Y/N], and no I don’t have a husband nor a partner” she admits, her bottom lip sucking in between her teeth every so slowly. Tommy immediately looking down at the movement. Her lips were as good as her eyes in painting a picture of her emotion.

“ come here” Tommy whispers, placing the cigarette into the ash tray, just in time for [ Y/N] to arrive infront of Tommy.

The older man, places his hands onto her hips gently,his thumbs rubbing her in a rhythm, the smoke from the cigarette slowly evaporating between the two.

[Y/N] places her hands onto tommys shoulders “ this is inappropriate Tommy” she whispers, her voice as delicate as silk.

“ everything in my life is inappropriate” tommy points out, gently pulling [Y/N} into his lap, their eyes making close contact for the first time.

They both saw fire within each others eyes, she moved so close Tommy could feel her lips gliding over his own “ one time” she whispers “ one time is alright” she tries to reassure herself.

As soon as those four words left her mouth, Tommy connects their lips, in this kiss there was a sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. [Y/N]’s heart skips a beat, as their lips glide together, making their own secret music. This kiss dissolves and releases any doubt within [Y/N]’s mind.

Tommys mouth parts ever so slightly, his tongue teasing then parting her own lips, wanting to savour her sweetness. A soft moan escapes her as she tastes Tommy in return.

Feeling as though she was burning in overwhelming passion, [Y/N] ripped her mouth away. Both gasping for air. Tommy presses his forehead against hers as [Y/N] runs her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

After a few minutes, Tommy lifts his head, placing his hand on her cheek. A slient communication passes through them. They both knew love was their sun, night and day.

They knew they were each others saviours.

A/N: hey again!

So sorry this took so long, my life has been extremely hectic but I’ve finished it and I hope you like it.

Please leave, a like, comment, reblog. All is appreciated so much! ❤️



[gretavangroupie]

Bluebird Lane - Chapter One

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Pining.

A/N: Gigantic, massive thank you to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for endlessly encouraging me with this one and daydreaming with me. I hope you all enjoy chapter one of what will be a sweet little mini series. Thanks for reading!

“God I hope this one works,” you groan, hitting your blinker as you make a right turn. The AC is cranked up to ten in an effort to combat the Nashville heat, but right now, in the heat of the day, it was a losing battle.

“This will be what? The fourth, fifth one you’ve toured?” Blake asks, her voice filled with laughter.

You shake your head as a smile passes your lips, “It’s not funny, Blake, and yes. Fifth, and this one has to work. It’s my favorite one and it's the last one that's in my price range.”

“Damn, did that other one fall through?” she asks, sounding sympathetic from the other end of the phone. 

“Yes, my application was denied and they didn’t even tell me why. The others never even bothered to call me back. If this one doesn’t work out I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t want to do another year in an apartment,” you say, feeling your heart rate start to pick up as you get closer to the house. “I cannot bear the hour commute for a minute longer, and I have thirty days until I have to be out of my apartment now.”

“There’s nowhere else?” she asks. 

“Not in my price range that’s close to work and has space for a little garden…” you answer, knowing that the last part isn’t the most important. 

She laughs because she has listened to you talk about starting a garden for the last two years,“So what is your plan, then?”

“I’m going to go to this open house, make sure it looks like the pictures online, and if I like it, I’m going to see if they will let me do the application right there. Like, this is the one. It’s right by my office, it’s close to everything, and it’s right in the sweet spot of my budget.” you answer, chewing the skin on your bottom lip as you pull up to the curb. A nervousness washes over you as you lay eyes on the old house, “Okay, I’m here, please wish me luck. I have to get this, Blake.”

“Sendin’ up prayers to the big man as we speak,” she giggles, “Call me after, let me know. I’ll be sitting on my couch stalking my ex's new girlfriend.”

“Blake–” you start, listening to the line beep as she ends the call. You let out a laugh and shake your head, taking a deep breath as you look over the outside of the house. It truly is perfect, the sweetest little historic cottage you’ve ever seen. You felt drawn to it, even from the photos online. You knew it was your last chance at a house before you signed a new lease on an apartment you didn’t want. 

You gather your courage and step out of the car, taking in the sights of the quaint neighborhood around you. Most of the houses on this street looked similar, in various states of aging. This one, however, looked well kept and cared for. The black numbers on the front porch post read ‘19’, and for some reason you just knew this house was meant to be yours, that is, until you heard the sound of a car door shutting behind you. 

Out stepped a guy, dressed fairly nice with a pair of dark sunglasses perched high on his nose. His hair was long and hung over the shoulders of his dark blazer. You knew it was an open house, but you didn’t expect others to be here when you got here. You felt a twinge of competition spark within you, and you found yourself thinking that you would do whatever it takes to get this house instead of him. 

The porch light was off and the front door was shut. You knew the open house didn’t start for  another few minutes so you didn’t dwell on the fact that the realtor wasn’t there yet. You took the time to walk around the yard, taking inventory of the current landscaping and seeing if you recognized any of the well established plants. Much to your surprise you were able to spot a flourishing blue hydrangea bush, and some creeping Ivy on the side of the house. There seemed to be decent shade from the giant Oak tree that hung over the house, setting the perfect scene for your new garden. You could already picture the vegetables you would grow here, and prepare in the little kitchen inside. You were absolutely dead set on this house, and as you stood in the shade of the Oak tree admiring the greenery all around you remembered him. 

He made his way to the side of the house, not caring at all about the plants the house was surrounded by,  but looking at the foundation of the home instead. He crouched down at the crawl space entry, taking a closer look. You felt your eyes cut towards him, already feeling possessive over the home you wanted so badly. He shouldn’t even be here, this house was for you. His eyes flick over to you, noticing you watching him with your arms crossed across your chest. 

“Cute place,” he says, peering up at you over his sunglasses. He seems smug, you aren’t sure if you like this guy too much. It doesn't help that he is mysteriously attractive.

“Sure is,” you answer shortly, not wanting to give him any inkling about you or your intentions. 

You both snap your heads towards the road as you hear a car door shut, knowing the realtor must have arrived. You start to walk towards the front of the house seeing an older man make his way up the front porch steps and into the house, shutting the door behind him. You find yourself walking a little faster up to the front door in an effort to beat the man behind you, really wanting to make the first impression with the realtor.

In a huff you knock on the front door first, stepping back a few inches as you clutched your purse to your side nervously. The man finally joins you on the porch, standing a few feet away from you with both hands in his pockets, waiting for the door to open just the same as you are. You can smell his cologne wafting off of him, and while you can admit it did smell good, he was your competition right now, and you weren’t giving him the time of day. 

Make a good first impression. This is your last chance at your own place. 

Finally, after what felt like way too long, the front door swung open, revealing the sight of the older man in a pair of pressed blue jeans and a white t-shirt. A trucker hat sat atop his head, and a warm friendly smile was on his face. 

“Well, hello there,” he said, waving the two of you inside, “I reckon you’re here for the open house, is that right?”

“Oh, um, yes sir,” you answer, looking suspiciously behind you at your competitor. 

The older man flicks his eyes from you to the man behind you and grins, nodding his head as he hobbles further into the house. 

“Well, alright then, sorry I kept you two. I’m Ralph, and this is 19 Bluebird Lane. Got two bedrooms and one bathroom, decent little kitchen to do your cookin’, and a nice family room. Yards’ just big enough to make ya’ sweat when you cut the grass, and the grocery store is just a few minutes up the road.”

You stand in the empty family room, taking a quick glance at the house and finding it has original wood flooring and vintage fixtures. Your heart swells as you imagine your things filling the space, and how you would decorate for holidays. It’s everything you ever imagined for yourself, and you have no doubts in your mind that this is the house for you. Your competitor walks around the house, the echo of his boots on the floor almost abrasive. He doesn’t say much, the occasional sound leaving his lips as Ralph continues to talk about the house. You try not to stare at him, but you can’t help it. You are hoping he will find it outdated or tacky and leave. You can only hope. 

“You know Ralph, I have had my eye on this place for some time. Always caught my eye when I drove by, and when I saw it up for rent I knew I needed to come check it out. Hard to find these old Craftsman style houses in such great condition. What was it, built around the thirties I’d say?” The man asks, and you suddenly feel stupid. You could never even guess what year this home was built, and now his praise has gotten the leg up on you. 

“Sure was son, built in 1931.” Ralph answers, positively beaming at the man's words. “I did my best to take care of her, put a lot of work into it years ago, and still today.”

“It definitely shows, it’s an amazing place.” the man says, sending you a smirk. 

Ralph leads the two of you down the small hallway towards the bedrooms, gesturing towards the master bedroom and the guestroom. The bathroom for the home sits across the hallway from the two with floor to ceiling baby blue tile and a matching tub. A small window lights up the bathroom in the late evening sun, and if you close your eyes you can almost picture yourself doing your makeup at the sink, soaking away in the vintage tub, or opening the windows to listen to the birds chirp early in the mornings. 

“Ralph, can I ask why you’re renting instead of selling it outright?” the man asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin.

“Well, son, because I have to pay for my new apartment. I don’t need this place all to myself and I know to sell it, it would need a lot of work that I don’t think I will be able to do by myself. I fixed a few things here and there, but I think renting is probably my only hope,” he answers, his features falling into a gloomy expression. 

“I see,” the man says, “Well, I’m sure glad you are. This place is fantastic. I love that it’s all original fixtures.”

Shit. This is not going how you hoped.

Your eyes flick to Ralph’s, the smile returning to his face as he listens to the man speak kind words of his home again. 

“What if you had someone who was willing to buy it as is, all cash?” the man asks, and suddenly you feel the blood drain from your face. He wants to buy it… You look at him with panic in your eyes, and you feel the hope of your dream house slipping through your fingers.

“It would have to be the right buyer. I ain’t gonna sell this to just anyone.” he pauses, “The developers have tried to buy me out of this place for years. Want to build condos just down the street and I won’t do it. ‘M afraid if I sell it to any old Joe Schmoe they will tear it down, and I can’t let that happen,” he says. “We sure did love this place. Forty years we lived here, and my parents before that,” he continues,  reminiscing on times past. 

“You and your wife,” you ask softly, confirming with him. 

“Yes, my Gail. She loved this place. Said she never wanted to live anywhere else. We sure did fill this place with memories, but I have to tell you it’s just not the same without her. The memories hurt a little without her to share ‘em with,” he says, twisting his hands together. 

“To be quite honest with you two, it was her dyin’ wish that this place would be home to another couple like us. I promised her I would try, and for several weeks now I have been havin’ people come view the house, and none of ‘em was ever a couple. It never felt right. I made that promise, ya know?  I was startin’ to lose hope on it, then you two showed up at the door.” he says, letting his eyes meet yours. 

You look over to the man standing next to you, seeing that he is just as perplexed as you are. You aren’t a couple. You don’t even know this man’s name. You decide that the best course of action is to tell the truth,  “Oh we–”

“You know Ralph, we really do love the place,” the man interrupts, looking over at you with an indecipherable look in his eye. You recoil slightly, realizing that the unknown man next to you is playing into this poor man’s fantasy.

“A place like this is meant to house love. That’s all it’s ever known,” Ralph pauses, nodding his head. “I’ll tell you what, if you two like this place, I would be more than happy to rent it to you. Rent is twenty-one hundred a month, with the utilities.”

“That’s amazing, Ralph,” the man smiles, “Actually, would you mind giving us just a moment to talk about it?” 

A smile crosses his face as he looks at the two of you, “Sure thing, I’m gonna go take a sit on the porch, you two just come find me when you’re ready,” he says, turning and making his way to the front porch. You hear the front door close and you turn to the man, practically fuming with anger.

“What are you thinking?” you scold, not even able to begin to process what could possibly be going through his mind. 

“I’m thinking we both want this house,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Aren’t you going to try and just buy it from him?” you ask, pouting a little. 

“Ahh, you know, coming into this, yeah. I think so, but I’ve had a sudden change of heart. I can see you have your heart set on it, and to be honest, so do I.” he pauses, starting to pace around the room. “He’s made it pretty clear he isn’t wanting to rent the house to a single renter, and I get that, so this is about the only option.”

“I don’t even know your name! Why would I– What are you, insane?”

A smug smile crosses his lips, “My apologies, I’m Jake.” he answers, peering at you through the lens of his sunglasses.

You cut your eyes at him a bit, trying to decide what to say, “D–Do you always wear sunglasses inside?”

Again, he smiles and nods his head, “Pretty often, yes. They are prescription.”

“Oh,” you squeak, suddenly feeling rude for asking. 

“And your name is?” he asks, his voice a little deeper and more sincere. 

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, do you want to live in this house?” he asks, leaning back onto the wall. 

“I mean, yeah. I do, but I wasn’t planning on having a roommate,” you answer truthfully.

“Well lucky for you I'm practically never home,” he says. “Would only be here from time to time to sleep and do laundry.”

“And why is that?” you ask, as if it’s your business. 

“I’m in a band, we travel a lot.”

“So why are you doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“Because, like I told him, I like this house, I always have. It’s close to my office and my brothers and it’s not some cookie cutter new build. It’s what I want, but I know it’s what you want just by the look on your face when I talked about buying it from him. He doesn’t want to sell. He wants to rent it to a couple, and I’m pretty sure that since we both showed up alone, neither of us fit that bill.”

“So you– you want to just lie to that sweet old man and tell him that we are together?” you ask. 

“Essentially, yes.”

“You don’t feel bad?” you question, your brows furrowing together. 

A small laugh leaves his chest and a bright smile parts his lips, “Of course I do, but I’m trying to make this work for both of us.”

“You said you’re in a band…Is that your only job? Are you sure you can pay your part of the rent?” you ask accussingly. 

An even larger smile fills his face, “Yeah, sweetheart. I can afford my share of the rent.”

“And you’ll clean up after yourself?”

“You won’t even know I’m here,” he nods. 

For a moment you consider running out of the house. Running out and signing the lease on the shitty apartment across town and never looking back at this insane proposition. But something about the way he has presented this has you considering it. 

“Can I think for a second?” you ask, pacing around the room. 

“Be my guest,” he says, gesturing into the air. 

You step out of the bedroom and walk into the kitchen, letting your mind play through various scenarios to try and come to a decision. Truthfully, you don’t really have another option. You had been ghosted on every other property you looked at. It was this or the apartment you didn’t want. This way you get the house you want, and the garden space you want, but for less money and half of the responsibility. 

It seemed like a no brainer, but you were still feeling hesitant. Maybe you should keep looking. Maybe you should just let him have the house. 

You open a kitchen cabinet, seeing a few old recipes still taped on the inside door, where they have sat for twenty years at least, and you feel your heart drop. You know you will feel awful lying about being with Jake, but at the same time, you know this place is the one and you can’t keep second guessing it. 

You decide right there in that perfect little kitchen that you’re going to do it. You would rather live with a stranger than in a shitty, loud apartment for another second. With a deep breath you walk back into the bedroom, finding Jake taking a look out the window. 

“How do you know I’m not a serial killer or something?” you ask, quirking a brow at him as he turns to face you. 

He chuckles a little and shakes his head, “Well, I don’t. But I'm willing to risk it. Serial killers don’t typically seek out homes in the center of town while admiring the flower bushes...”

You suck in a deep breath, and let it go, licking your lips before answering him. “Okay.”

“Okay you want to do it?” he asks, stepping closer to you. 

“I don’t really have another option.” you admit.

“You won’t regret this, I promise,” he smiles, stepping forward and offering you his hand to hold. 

Your eyes flick down to his outstretched hand before flicking back up to his face, “What are you doing?” you ask, a bit taken aback. 

“I was hoping we could go tell Ralph the good news,” he smirks. “Kinda have to pretend to like me if we are going to sell this.”

You feel your blood run cold. You hadn’t considered that part until this very moment. It was just for a few minutes. You could do that, right? You placed your hand in his, letting him wrap his warm fingers around yours as he smiled, leading you out of the bedroom and towards the front door. 

“Just follow my lead, okay?” 

You nod and step out onto the large wrap around porch finding Ralph sitting in a rocking chair. 

“Did you two come up with a decision?” he asks, working hard to pull himself up out of the chair.

Jake pulls you closer to his side, never letting his hand leave yours, “We sure did, Ralph. We would love to rent this place from you. I promise we will take great care of it, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You feel a tingle in the pit of your stomach as the pet name washes over you, his eyes locked on you, urging you to answer his question. 

“Um, absolutely. We both love it. It’s exactly what we wanted,” you agree, tilting your head to rest on Jake’s shoulder. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, and you swallow nervously. 

“My Gail would be so happy. Thank you both so much,” he smiles, fighting back the tears coming to his eyes. “We can do the paperwork and I reckon you can move in a few days once the money is sorted.”

“I can write you a check for first and last month's rent and the security deposit today, if you’d like?” Jake offers, and you feel a twinge of shock. No wonder he laughed when you asked him about rent earlier. 

“That would be fantastic, son. Boy you sure are makin’ this easy for me.”

“That was the goal, sir,” he smiles, following Ralph back inside as he pulls you along behind him. 

—

You spend much of the next hour filling out the renter paperwork and sending the documents to the appropriate places. Jake definitely took the lead in all of this, writing the checks and getting the information to transfer the utilities into his name. You knew the two of you would discuss all of this later, but for now you just let him. 

Ralph led you both out of the house, practically beaming as he walked towards his car. “I sure am glad you two came by today. I can tell that you two are perfect for this place. I will get all this paperwork sent off and get some keys made and be in contact with you by the end of the week.”

“Thank you so much Ralph, we can’t wait!” you smiled, waving as he got into his car and drove away.

Jake immediately drops your hand, and for some reason you feel a twinge of sadness at the sudden loss of warmth. 

“Well, we did it,” he grins. 

“I can’t believe he bought it,” you laugh. 

“I can, you’re a great actress, I even believed it there for a minute,” he grins, giving you a subtle wink. 

“So…Now what?” you ask, quickly remembering that things were not just that simple. 

“Now, we figure out logistics I suppose…” he answers, looking down at the watch on his wrist. “Shit,” he grumbles. You take notice of the shiny silver wristwatch, wondering what he is late for. You stand awkwardly trying to figure out what to do next. 

“I have to run, but we need to talk everything through. I know Ralph said he will call me when the paperwork goes through and the check clears, so I’d give it a day or two until I hear from him.” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

“Okay, so am I just supposed to wait to hear from you in the meantime?” you ask, feeling a little left out of the loop. 

“Yeah, I mean, I can call you as soon as I hear from him, and I know we need to figure out the money stuff– actually, let’s just exchange numbers really quick, then we can figure all this out. I can call or text or whatever you prefer.”

“Oh, okay yeah,” you answer. You pull your phone from your bag and open your contacts, handing it to him as you reach for his. You quickly type your number in deciding to be a little cheeky as you add your name in as ‘Girlfriend’.

“I sent myself a text to make sure it goes through,” he says, placing your phone back in your hand. You smile and nod, locking your phone and putting it back in your purse. You hand his phone back to him, watching him shove it into his pocket as he turns to head towards his car. 

“I’m really sorry, I hate to run like this but I am running really late to this thing, and really I don’t even want to go I just–Sorry, anyway,  I will text you here in a little bit to see if we can’t figure some of this stuff out.” he says, walking alongside you to your car. 

“No worries, I will start making arrangements for this weekend tentatively?” you ask, wondering if that's too soon. 

“Yeah, I think that sounds good, I will do the same, and I can help you with whatever, just let me know.” he says, reaching for his car door. 

“Alright, well, um thanks… for this, I will talk to you soon, I guess?” you giggle. 

“Yeah, you will,” he smiles, lifting his hand to wave as he gets into his Jeep. 

You wave as you get into your car, shutting the door behind you and letting out a breath. “Holyfuckingshit.” you breathe out. You had done it. You got your dream home. Maybe not the way you planned, but some way, somehow, you’d done it. 

His tail lights lit up your face as he started his car, pulling away from the curb as you started your car. Your hands were shaking from the adrenaline of it all, and you knew you still had to call Blake to fill her in. 

You turn your head to look at the house, the yellow porch light glowing in the dusky night, warm and inviting. Your heart lurches in your chest as you realize that is your new home, and though it’s not exactly how you thought things would go today, you couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. 

You both turn your separate ways, and as your car hits the freeway you hit the speed dial to call Blake. The call rings out twice before you hear her exasperated breath on the phone. 

“Hello!?” she shouts, clearly feeling a bit concerned. 

“Yes, hello…” you answer. 

“What the hell! I thought you got kidnapped or something!” she continues, “You couldn’t text me or something?!”

“Well, things took a dramatic turn when I got there!” you laugh. 

“What kind of dramatic turn?” she asks. 

“Well when I got there there was another guy there to see the house at the same time. We ended up touring the place with the guy selling it, who is just the sweetest little old man named Ralph, and he was telling us all about his wife and how they lived their for forever, and at the end of the tour he basically told the two of us that he was hoping a couple would want to rent it because it was his wife’s dying wish or something…”

“Shit, so you didn’t get it, now what?” she asks. 

“No, actually, see… I did get it. Well, we kinda got it.”

“Huh?” she yells. 

“So the guy, his name is Jake, totally hot, you’d be obsessed with him, anyway, he wanted the house like, just as bad as I did. When Ralph said that to us he basically offered to buy it from him in cash and Ralph said no he wanted to rent it. So Jake kinda looked at me for a second, then when Ralph walked away he told me that he would be willing to rent the house with me if I wanted to.”

“Y/N, no. Oh my god, no?”

“I know, I know, it’s actually fully insane, but Blake what other option did I have?” you question. 

“Wait so how?”

“We…kinda just pretended to be a couple. Ralph thinks we are together. Offered it to us on the spot. We accepted. Did the paperwork and all that. That’s what took so long.” you answer nervously.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Who even is this guy? He could be a murderer!?”

“He’s not. I don’t think... His name is Jake, he is in a band and they tour a lot apparently. Said he will hardly be around. It sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me,” you say. “He also fronted all the money for the thing. We are gonna talk about it soon I think. We exchanged numbers.”

“So right now you’re telling me that you are going to be sharing a house with a guy that you don’t know at all, don’t know his last name, don’t know a thing about him other than he is in a band and has a little money…”

“Yeah, sounds like it,” you laugh. 

“And you’re not nervous about this, like at all?” she questions. 

You laugh a little, “I mean, no. Something about him was oddly comforting. I could just tell he is a good person.”

“Do you know how insane this is?”

“Yes. But, I really had no other choice. I decided right then and there that I was not getting another apartment. Now sharing this house is going to be even less of a financial burden because it will be split in half. This is the best case scenario for me, Blake.”

“I know. And as crazy as it sounds you have the best intuition of anyone I know. I know you’re smart. You also sound really happy so…I guess I am happy too.” she says, the smile audible in her voice. “So, tell me about this guy, you said he’s hot…”

“Oh, I’m going through a bad spot! I will call you tomorrow! Love you!” you say, tapping the red button on the screen and ending the call. You toss your phone to the passenger seat as you switch lanes on the highway, making the hour drive back to your apartment. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, so glad to finally be rid of that place. This time next week you would be moved into your new place, enjoying the quaint neighborhood and the peace and quiet, and you were hopeful you wouldn’t regret the decision to take on an unexpected roommate.

—

JAKE POV

The gravel crunches as you pull into the parking space, throwing your car into park and twisting the keys in the ignition. You were late, really fucking late. You jump out, throwing the car door shut behind you as you sprint into the front doors of your office. It’s pin drop silent except for the sound of Josh’s voice echoing from the conference room. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, knowing you aren’t going to hear the end of this. 

You quietly make your way into the conference room, seeing Josh sitting across from the laptop on the table, listening as the interviewer speaks. He cuts his eyes to you as you shut the door behind you, placing your keys and phone on the chair by the door. He silently tells you to ‘hurry the fuck up’ as he turns back to the interviewer, making a joke about your untimely arrival. 

You take the seat next to him apologizing for your tardiness and taking the brunt of the rest of the interview. You spent the next thirty minutes talking about the plans for the second half of tour and the excitement you held about making stops in Japan and Australia for the first time in several years. You finished out the interview on a positive note, knowing that as soon as the call ended you were going to catch some heat for being late. 

Of course, as expected as soon as the call ended Josh turned to you with a sour look. 

“Why the fuck do we schedule these meetings around your day if you can’t be bothered to show up at the time you fucking choose!?” he shouts, standing up from his chair. 

“Look, I know. I was just down the street. I fully expected I would be here on time, it’s my mistake.”

“Where the fuck were you? You know I hate doing this stuff alone.” he asks. 

“I finally got into that house over on Bluebird,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. He knew the house, you’d spoken of it often since your arrival to Nashville a few years ago. 

“Oh, yeah?” he softens, “It’s for sale? You gonna buy it?”

“Wanted to, the owner doesn’t want to sell. Offered cash, too.” you pause. “Toured it and signed the lease just now. That’s why I was late.  Probably moving in this weekend.”

“Shit, really? That’s– Okay.”

“Yeah, but…” you pause, swallowing nervously. “I seem to have acquired a roommate in the process.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Someone else was at the showing. She wanted that house as bad as I did.” you nod, rubbing your hand over your chin. “Something about her… I just couldn’t take it from her…”

“A girl…” he asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise. 

“Yeah, seem’s sweet. Super gorgeous. Her name is Y/N. She has no fuckin’ clue who I am, which, is even better.” you laugh. “The catch was that the owner wanted to rent it to a couple. His wifes dying wish or something… So, I talked her into pretending we were together so he would rent it to us. Kinda works out, she will be there to watch the place when we’re gone and she works so she won’t be around during the day…felt kinda, I don’t know. Just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Jake, you are moving into a house with a stranger.” he states. 

“Yes,” you answer plainly. “But she is cool, I promise.”

“This is a bad idea,” he says, beginning to pace the room. “She could– I don’t know, I thought you wanted privacy– she might tell the whole world–”

“She won’t,” you interrupt. “I can tell. She won’t.”

“How do you know she’s going to pay her share?” he asks.

You laugh and shake her head, “Because the first thing she asked me is how I’m going to pay mine.”

He tilts his head in agreement, “Fair enough.”

“It’ll be good. Just trust me. I have a good feeling about it.” you urge. “I don’t know much about her, at all actually, but I know you’re going to like her.”

“Will be the first roommate you have had that isn’t me,” he smiles. 

“And a girl,” you laugh, “But it will be fine. I want that house and if this is how I have to have it then so be it.”

“Whatever, man,” he sighs, “But definitely has nothing to do with the ‘super gorgeous’ girl, right?”

You smirk and shrug your shoulders, “You’ll see. You’ll get it.”

“Whatever, hey you wanna grab a bite?”

“Nah, actually, I need to uh– I need to get home, have some things to take care of.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow?” he asks, opening the door of the conference room. 

The two of you walk towards the doors, shutting off the lights in preparation to leave, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you then.”

“On time.” he points, opening the door. 

“F’course,” you smirk, knowing damn good and well you will be late to that too.

—

Two hours later you found yourself on your couch, watching highlights with a box of leftover Pad Thai. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you thought of your new place and how easily it fell into your hands. Though, you also found yourself feeling thankful for the girl who just so happened to arrive at the same place at the exact same time that made it so that things could fall into place. 

You reached forward, grabbing your phone from the coffee table and settling back into the couch cushions as you unlocked the screen. You scrolled through your contacts looking for her name and to your surprise you came up empty. You felt a wave of panic wash over you as you looked again, still not finding it. 

You sat up a little, trying to figure out what was going on until you remembered sending yourself a text from her phone. As you open your messages you smile, shaking your head as you see her contact, not labeled with her name at all, and instead, ‘Girlfriend’. You tap the thread, seeing your message to yourself as you type into the box to reach out for the first time. 

You

8:13PM: Girlfriend, huh?

Girlfriend

8:17PM: It felt only appropriate…

You grin to yourself that she answered so quickly, and you wonder if maybe she was thinking about you, too. 

You

8:18PM: Suppose you’re right, we made a deal after all…

8:19PM: Obviously I haven’t heard from Ralph yet, but I figured we could maybe figure out our end of things if you aren’t busy?

Girlfriend

8:20PM: Yeah, sure that works for me. 

You glance at the time realizing it is kind of late, and you know she likely is working tomorrow. 

You

8:22PM: You sure? I didn’t realize the time.

Girlfriend

8:23PM: Yeah totally! I was actually thinking about it earlier, and if you want I can just venmo you my share of the rent and utilities every month, that way it comes from just one of us and he won’t get suspicious?

You

8:25PM: Actually yeah, that would be perfect. I can just let you know how much when I get the bills?

Girlfriend

8:27PM: Yeah! Sounds good to me!

You

8:28PM: Also just so you know, in about three weeks I am leaving for tour and I will be gone for about two months. I will obviously still pay my half of everything, but you will have the place to yourself. Just wanted to give you a heads up. 

Girlfriend

8:29PM: Oh, wow, thats barely enough time for you to get moved in and settled lol 

You

8:30PM: Unfortunately that is just kind of how my life is, never can get too comfortable anywhere before its on to the next place. 

Girlfriend

8:31PM: What’s your band called? Have I heard of you?

You laugh a little at her message, wondering if you should rip the bandaid off now, or later. But as your fingers type your answer you wonder if this conversation is better suited to a phone call. 

You

8:32PM: Would you be opposed to a phone call? I feel like I could explain better than I can over a text.

Girlfriend

8:33PM: That’s fine!

Shit, okay. You didn’t think she would say yes. Alright, it’s fine. You’ve talked about this a thousand times. So why are you nervous?

You clear your throat and tap the phone icon, listening to the line ring out twice before she answers. 

“Hi,” she answers, her voice soft and attentive.

“Hey, um, thanks for letting me call, I just feel like it’s a lot to explain over a text,” you laugh, swallowing down your nerves again. 

“No, it’s fine I get it,” she giggles, “I mean, we kind of have to get over the formalities now that we are going to be roommates.”

You smile, thinking about how different your life will be in just a week's time, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay, so your band. What kind of music is it?” she asks. 

“Alright, well, it’s rock music. It’s my brothers and I. We’ve been doing it for quite some time now, just moved to Nashville about three years ago, touring all over the place before that.” you pause, feeling your heart rate pick up as you dance around the answer. You don’t understand why you feel nervous to tell her, but something about her knowing that makes you feel like she may think differently of you. 

“Okay I have google pulled up, I’m ready to research,” she laughs. 

“No, no you don’t have to do that actually,” you say, “It’s just going to tell you a bunch of shit that they have been saying since we started the damn band.”

“The name, Jake…”

“Right, it’s Greta Van Fleet.” you answer, holding your breath a little. 

“Oh, interesting name, completely different from what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” you smirk, crossing your feet on the coffee table. 

“I don’t know, something, um…more hardcore, I guess?”

“Nah, we aren’t hardcore rock,” you say, “Common mix up.”

“Okay google says you are like, really famous.” she says, her tone suddenly sounding serious. 

“I told you not to do that!” you urge. 

“Oh gosh wait there you are! Those are you brothers? Oh my gosh how cute. Sick eyeliner, Jake…”

You feel a warmth creep to your chest, just the thought of her searching your band had your heart twisting up. “Close it, I’m begging. I’d rather you just ask me instead of the internet.”

“Four million monthly listeners on Spotify, holy shit.”

“Okay, yeah, we are doing pretty well,” you tease. 

“Yeah I would say so! Oh my god, why are you moving into this house with me? You could buy like ten houses!”

“I don’t want ten houses, I want that one. And I never really planned on having a roommate. It just…kind of happened.” you say truthfully. 

“I feel like I need to listen to one of your songs?” she says, and you can hear her typing on her computer. 

“Wait, can you just–” you are interrupted by the sound playing through her computer speakers, “Alright.”

“I think I know this actually!” She sounds excited as she hears the riff of ‘Highway Tune’ play through. 

“Yeah, that one is uh– yeah that's a popular one,” you smile, just letting her have her moment. You suffer through it, knowing if you interrupt her she will probably make you listen again. 

“Okay, I get it now.” she says, pausing the song. 

“Get what?”

“Your vibe,” she says matter-of-factly. 

“Do you?” you ask, genuinely curious how that song in particular has told her anything. 

“Yeah, kind of like old school rock and roll. I like it. I really like it.” 

You feel a spark in your chest, and a smile crosses your lips, “Yeah, thank you. I– I really love what I do.”

She is quiet for a minute, “So you’re the guitarist I see.”

“I am, yes...” you answer hesitantly.

“So you’re going to keep me up all night playing,” she teases. 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that. I do tend to keep late hours and I do like to work on stuff during those late hours, but I will do my best to keep my noise to a minimum,” you say, a hint of laughter in your voice. 

“Alright, fair enough.”

“Okay so what about you, then. You know what I do, what do you do?” you ask, letting your head fall back to rest on the couch. The sound of her voice is oddly soothing, and you let your eyes close as you listen to her speak.

“I’m a massage therapist,” she says, “I work at a little clinic near the house, which is why I wanted it so badly. I have been driving an hour to and from work for a few months now waiting for my apartment lease to be up.”

“An hour? Shit,” you groan. 

“That house was actually my last hope. It was also my favorite one. I can’t even tell you how relieved I am that by some miracle it worked out.”

“Seems like it was meant to,” you say, feeling thankful. “So massage therapy, how did you get into that?”

“Actually my entire life I swore up and down that I was going to be a journalist, but when I found out I am a terrible writer I had to make some quick adjustments. I had a really long exam one day and scheduled a massage for the next day, and when I walked out of that massage I knew that it was what I wanted to do. I went to school, worked at a few different places until I earned my chops and ended up here. I got a job at Lotus Room a few months ago and everything just clicked. I know I am where I am meant to be and I look forward to going to work everyday.”

“Wow, that’s incredible. I have had my fair share of massages the past few years, playing guitar is actually a lot more strenuous than you may think.” you laugh.

“No I fully believe you, most of my clients these days are musicians.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, “Oh really?”

“Definitely, maybe I can give you a roommate discount,” she jokes, laughing into the phone. 

Her laugh brings a smile to your face, and you can’t help but laugh too. “I feel like a girlfriend discount would be better.”

“Oh it is, but you aren’t ready for that. And it’s not a discount, it’s a special.” You feel a blush rise to your cheeks, and you catch a hint of playfulness in her voice. You have no right to even let your mind wander with that one.

You decide you need to change the subject, keep things professional, “So, let’s talk about furniture.”

“Okay, yeah, I have a shitty couch and a coffee table, my bedroom furniture, and a small kitchen table and chairs.”

“So, I have mostly everything because I am in a house already, but I will leave the decision up to you since I can throw my stuff in a storage unit.” you say, hoping not to stress her out. 

“I am going to go out on a limb and say that your stuff is probably a lot nicer than mine,” she laughs. You can hear that she is walking around her apartment, her voice softening as she sits down. 

“My couch is pretty nice, I think it will fit well in the house, too. If you hate it we can do something else. I’m going to kind of leave things up to you since I won’t be around too often.”

“That’s generous of you, Jake.”

Something about the way your name sounded falling from her lips has you squirming on your couch. 

“Yeah, no problem. I will send some pictures over to you and you can decide,” you say.

“Perfect. Anything else I should know about you as a roommate?” she asks, her voice sounding a little more tired. 

“Not that I can think of. I am a pretty clean person. I try my best to clean up after myself so you won’t have to worry about that. As I said earlier I am kind of all over the place with the times I will be around. I like to cook, so that's a plus I think.”

“Oh, that is good to know. I like to garden, so maybe you can benefit from that.” she answers. You feel another spark in your chest at the thought, but you don’t let yourself linger on it for too long. 

“Well, I don’t want to keep you. Thanks for letting me call, I feel like this was good. I will let you know when I hear from Ralph, and I will send those pictures over sometime tomorrow.”

“Yeah, this was nice. I actually do have to go, I have a lot of listening to do before I go to bed since I am now suddenly roommates with some famous guitar guy.” she taunts. 

“I hear he is overrated and kind of an ass,” you add. 

“I guess I will be the judge of that,” she says playfully, letting a quietness fall between the two of you. 

“Alright, well I’ll talk to you soon…” Some part of you doesn’t want to hang up. You shove that part back down. 

“Talk to you soon, Jake! Goodnight…”

“Goodnight Y/N.” you say, ending the call and tossing your phone to the couch next to you. You run your hand over your face as you stare up at the ceiling, sitting in the silence as your mind replays the conversation and the sound of her laughter. 

You know it’s only a matter of time. You know it’s inevitable. In fact it may already be too late. 

That feeling in your gut told you so. Twice. You know you will fall for her. Your fate was sealed the minute you saw her admiring the flower bushes. The minute you signed those papers. You would have never offered the idea of being roommates if you didn’t intrinsically know your own fate. 

You may be going into this as roommates, but you wouldn’t be coming out of it that way. Of course, that was still to be decided, but if you had it your way, you know what you would choose.  

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[wardenparker]

The Stars Re-Align, part 2

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, of-age teenage sexuality, flashback, abusive relationship, domestic abuse, slaps to the face, verbal abuse. Summary: A trip down memory lane brings a conversation full of honesty with your daughter. Frankie frets about the future with Will. And then the world turns upside down all over again. (This chapter begins with a flash back). Notes: Rated E for an Explicit portrayal of an abusive relationship. Even if the on-page violence is minimal, it still deserves to be tagged.

“What time are your parents getting home?” The most frequently asked question you and Frankie have for each other these days, as you decide where to hang out after school and what hanging out will actually consist of.

Frankie smirks and shrugs slightly, eyes dark and full of promise as he slides them up and down your body. “Don’t know.” He admits. “Late. They said something about bowling after Dad got off work.”

The subway is packed full but somehow Frankie still manages to get impressively closer to you as the stops roll by. “Your place, then,” your head bobs in agreement while you try to think a little with his hands on you. Two more stops.

“My place.” He leans in, nuzzling your neck and dropping a kiss on your thready pulse. Grinning when it jumps against his lips.

“I’ll—” It’s all you can do not to gasp any time Frankie kisses you, and you’re in public. “I’ll call my Mom from your phone. Let her know.”

“Tell her you’re staying the night.” He encourages, knowing that he won’t want to let you go home. You live two stops from him and it’s close enough to swing by and have you get dressed in the morning. Or you can wear his clothes. He doesn’t mind that at all.

“It’s a good thing she likes you,” you huff, but again the sound turns into a swallowed moan when he touches you. “I’ll tell her.”

“Good.” Frankie loves how you melt for him. It’s something he takes pride in, aware that you do talk to your friends about your relationship, and that you only have good things to say.

"Not gonna let me study at all, are you?" It's a half-hearted gripe, although you both do have homework to do. Senior year is starting out better than you could possibly imagine and college applications will go out soon. Everything is just as perfect as you could possibly want.

“I bet you that you’ll get an A after our study session.” He chuckles in your ear. “Every prep test you get right, you get an orgasm.”

"Frankie." The little whine only spurs him on. If not for the train jolting to a stop and the hustling bustle of people moving all around you, he'd probably slip his hand under your clothes right there on the train.

“What?” He gives you an innocent look. “You know I’m good for them.”

"I know you are," you huff as he moves you off the train and onto the platform along with the masses. "That's why I'm whining."

“So you’re going to be a good girl and get every answer right, aren’t you?” It’s become a game to him, to see how often he can turn you on in public and he loves how responsive you are. His baggy pants hiding his hard cock from the public as he teases you.

"I would get every answer right anyway." It's another huff, but it's good natured. Mostly just the fact that he's so damn good at getting you all riled up no matter where you are.

“I know, my girl is smart.” He hums, guiding you towards the stairs. “Sexy, sweet, nice ass…shit that’s not an ‘s’ word.” He huffs playfully, just wanting to hear you laugh.

It works, because of course it does, and the sound bubbles out of you as you hustle up the stairs to street level with Frankie right behind you. The extra sway in your hips is just for him, but if someone else notices you couldn't care less. At times like this your world is just narrowed down completely and entirely to Frankie.

Friends for years, Frankie had finally gathered the courage to ask you out in middle school, elated when you said yes. There hadn’t been the drama others had, no huge fights and breaking up only to get back together, the two of you had been steady. He had tried to brush off all the jokes about getting married straight out of school and you popping out six kids right away. You both had plans that didn’t include kids for a few years. At least until after he was a higher rank in the Army. “Shake that ass, baby!” He calls out, whistling in a catcall.

If you were any version of yourself except a teenager desperately in love, you might have huffed at him or made a face, but in this moment you just giggle and throw even more sway into your movements until you’re all the way at the top of the stairs and waiting for him to join you.

“Goddamn.” Staring at your ass, Frankie nearly trips over his own feet on the stairs, catching himself and grinning when you giggle at him again.

“If we don’t get you home in one piece, you don’t get to have any fun,” you remind him, clicking your tongue teasingly.

“Ass.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

"Didn't you just point out how much you love my ass?" The playful retort comes with a kiss to his cheek, and you grab his hand to head for his apartment.

Like others in the building, the apartment had been the Morales family home for years. Making the habit of pulling out his keys and unlocking the door almost automatic. It’s a long-ingrained motion.

“Any sign of siblings?” Before you sling down your backpack on Frankie’s desk chair, you bite your lip and look around curiously for his brother and sister.

"Nope." Frankie doesn't see any of the tell-tale signs of the younger ones being around. He would be tripping over their damn shoes around the door.

“Thank goodness.” The less time you have to spend being social, the more time you and Frankie have to yourselves, and you grab him by the wrist to pull him down the hall to his bedroom.

"Eager to study, already?" Frankie laughs as he lets you drag him away from the living area.

“We can study while other people are home.” You throw a pout at him over your shoulder. “Or do you not want to try what I learned from the copy of Cosmopolitan that Shelly Estrada stole from her mother?”

“What was in it?” He’s always interested in what you learn from those magazines.

“Something we absolutely could not hide under a blanket.” Giggling a bit, you bite your lip and toss your backpack down in his room at the end of the hall just in time for his arms to come around you. “And involves me being on top of you, which I know you love.”

His brow wings up and he grins instantly, always loving when you are bouncing on his cock. “But we had fucked with you on top under the blanket.”

“I know.” Your eyes flash with mischief as your boyfriend practically slams his bedroom door shut. “This is different.”

The click of the lock is loud, securing you inside and keeping out the rest of the world through the action. “Tell me.”

“You get on your back.” One of his favorite views of you is from his back so that isn’t a hard sell. “But when I get on top of you, it’s flipped. So you can eat me out while I suck your cock.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, eyes widening in absolute delight as he quickly reaches for his shirt to pull it off. He loves using his tongue on you and enjoys the very boastful reputation you have given him by bragging to your friends. “I’ve seen it in a porno.” He admits, nodding in agreement. “Fuck, take your clothes off baby.”

“Boys have pornos and girls have Cosmo,” you tease, already pulling your t-shirt over your head.

“Girls can watch porno too.” Frankie snorts. “Bet it would turn you on and give you ideas.”

“Girls can watch porno too.” Toeing off your shoes and pulling off your socks lets you strip your jeans off too, and you stand unafraid and unapologetic in your underwear in front of Frankie. “But where would I get it?”

“Watch it with me.” He groans, pushing down his own jeans and underwear so his hard cock springs out and bobs in the air. “Sit on my dick while you watch another girl get fucked.”

“Next time,” you promise him, though it’s a little breathless as your mouth waters at the sight of him and you pull your bra and panties off as fast as humanly possible. “I want to try this first.”

"I want to try it too, baby." He is always eager to try new things, positions, everything with you. He had cum so quickly the first time he slid inside you. Embarrassed, but you hadn't blamed him for it. Now, he was proud of the fact that you were cumming before him, completely boneless as he fucks you into the bed of his childhood bedroom every chance he gets. You are his everything.

******

Sitting home alone last night was probably a bad idea, but you hadn’t wanted to wreck Rachel’s night. Instead you barely slept — crying intermittently and picking at the remains of your birthday cake with a seemingly endless margarita in your hand while you watched rom-coms and thought about Frankie. Just because Santiago was probably right to end things didn’t make it easier.

Now you’re hungover with your face bowed over a cup of coffee and trying to lecture yourself into making breakfast while you try to figure out what the fuck to do with yourself today.

There’s an extreme sense of guilt that has settled over Frankie’s shoulders. He had – unknowingly – crashed your party and ruined things for you. And changed his entire life in the process. Another child. A grown ass woman who was half his. He hadn’t told Marie, couldn’t even find the words, although he had scooped up his precious little girl and held her close, locking himself into the nursery with her.

As if you were feeling some of those vibes beat out to you across towns, you abandon the thought of breakfast for now in favor of going upstairs to dig out your oldest Memory Box. The box full of keepsakes and memories all pertaining to Frankie. Not the one that contains all of the pregnancy-related things that you’d shown Rachel multiple times in her life, but the secret one you keep tucked in the back of your closet that has things like ticket stubs to the movies and concerts you went to together or the endless Polaroids you took on every occasion. That box. That is the one you bring back downstairs to wallow in at the dining room table.

******

“I don’t think I need to leave Mom alone today.” Rachel tells Benny, sighing softly and reaching for his hand. “This doesn’t make things weird, does it?” She’s asking yet again, but she needs the reassurance.

“We’ll adjust, baby.” He promises her. She needs the comfort of hearing it again and, to Benny’s surprise, each time he says it he means it that much more.

“I didn’t know. I feel like I should have.” She confesses quietly.

“How?” That still doesn’t make sense to him. There is no way she could have known just based on instinct. “Absolutely nobody thought this was gonna happen, baby girl. And it doesn’t change how much I love you.”

“I know, I just—” she clings to his hand and sighs. “I’ve always had this fantasy of my dad coming back and finding us.” She admits quietly. “And now…I don’t know what to do.”

“Frankie’s a good guy.” Benny huffs, knowing that sounds lame. “He’s been through so much. Saved our skins way more times than I can count. And the way he is with Luna? Baby, I know it isn’t what you imagined, but give Fish a chance. You might be surprised to find out that your Dad is just a normal guy who will do right by you.”

“I feel guilty.” She huffs. “Santiago is a good guy too. And yet…” she shrugs slightly. “If you had asked me yesterday if he was someone I would want my mom to be with long term, I would have said yes.” She glances away. “Now…”

Benny’s brow furrows, seeing the guilt on her face for even thinking it. “You wish your parents could be together?” He guesses, soothing one hand over her back.

“Is that wrong?” She asks softly. “If he’s the man you say he is….my mom deserves to be happy.”

“Of course it’s not wrong,” Benny shakes his head. “But…it’s up to them.”

“Yeah.” She sighs softly and smiles at Ben. “Do you want to come in? Or do you want to run for the hills for right now?”

“If you want me to come in, I will.” In no way does he want to give her the impression he’s making a run for it, but he also doesn’t think it’s his place to be in there right now, either. “What if I drop you off now so you can have some time with your Mom, and I’ll come by with dinner later? I can pick up from the Thai place you guys like.”

“That would be good.” She nods, thankful that she can determine what kind of mood you are in. It’s possible that you have simply brushed off the entire thing, but she doubts it.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Pad Thai for my girl and that crazy peanut curry your Mom likes.” He grins when Rachel almost opens her mouth, but he holds up his hand. “And the fried calamari with the sweet chili sauce. Otherwise don’t bother bringing anything at all. I know, baby. I love you.”

She laughs and leans over to press her lips to his cheek. “You are the best.” She promises. “Thank you for being here. For not finding all of this crazy.”

It’s a little crazy, but not nearly crazy enough to lose her over, so Benny just hums and kisses her back. “Text me if you need me, baby. I’m going to train for a few hours.”

“Good luck.” She doesn’t ask if Frankie is going to help, she doesn’t want to know right now. Since his pilot’s license was suspended, Frankie had been helping Benny train and right now, it’s just too awkward to think about.

Normally vigilant, you don't even hear the front door of the house open when Rachel comes inside. The box of memories has overflowed all over the table as you uncover more and more pieces of your past, and there is definitely a damp tissue in your hand when you finally hear footsteps on the kitchen tile. "Oh shit." The sound makes you jump, but when you wheel around to see your daughter standing there, you relax immediately. "Sorry, sweet pea. I didn't know you were coming home. You scared me."

“Hey Mom.” Curiosity practically seeps out of her pores, looking over pictures and trinkets that she’s never seen before. She knows this has to be a box of things from your time with her dad. She knows it. “Organizing?”

"Um...more like memory lane." You glance back at the table before looking up at your daughter and pat the chair beside you. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

“No, but I can wait.” She doesn’t want you to stop, so she slides into the seat and picks up a Polaroid. “Holy shit….you two look like babies.”

"That was..." Tilting your head slightly in consideration, you squint at the faded photograph and end up smiling. "Sophomore year. So we were about 15? They took us all on a class trip to Ellis Island."

“God.” She huffs, squinting at the photo. “You two look over the moon crazy about each other.” She points out, noticing the way that her dad’s arm is slung over your shoulder and he’s grinning like he’s the luckiest boy in the world.

"We were." If there's a note of yearning in your voice it's unintentional, but you do reach for another photo and hand it over to her to inspect. "Senior prom," you hum in amusement, and offer her another photo that has you and Frankie noticeably younger with a very excited looking collie in the photo between you. "And this is the day he asked me out." Shifting the picture from Ellis Island into the middle, you look at the trio with tired eyes. "The beginning, middle, and almost-end of our relationship."

“You never really talked about my dad much.” She studied each photo carefully, as if she could possibly glean some friction that was under the bright smiles and finding nothing. “Did it hurt too much?”

"Partially." It was a large part of it, if you're honest, and you realize belatedly that you've picked up a piece of jewelry he gave you ages ago like it's some kind of fidget toy. "But also...I didn't think we would ever see him again. And I didn't want you to build up dreams of him thinking he might just stroll in through the front door one day. Which seems ludicrous now, since that is essentially what happened."

Rachel snorts and leans back, biting her lip. “It’s fucking crazy is what it is.” She admits. “He’s like…one of Ben’s best friends. He said they’ve been through some shit together. Francisco saved his life…more than once. My father saved my boyfriend’s life.”

"I'm sure you have plenty you want to ask." Pushing back from the table, you squeeze her shoulder gently and step away to scour the refrigerator for anything breakfast oriented. "But first...how are you and Ben doing, honey? Are you guys okay with all this?"

“We’re okay.” She promises, reaching for another photo. “He’s coming back after training with Pad Thai for dinner.” She tells you. “Santiago still asleep?” His car isn’t in the driveway, so it’s an invitation for you to talk, rather than a question.

"Probably." He's a heavy sleeper, and definitely not a morning person, so wherever he is he's probably still asleep. But that isn't what Rachel is asking and you both know it. "He didn't stay, honey." Suddenly you want absolutely nothing to eat all over again, and your head pounds even harder. More coffee will help... "We, uh...we broke up, Rach."

“Oh shit.” She huffs out the whispered curse and shoots out of her chair. Dropping the photos as she rushes towards you to engulf you in a huge hug. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

"It's okay, honey." It hurts like hell, but you aren't going to treat your daughter like your therapist. It's more than enough that she's there to offer you comfort and support. "I'm just glad that the whole situation hasn't come between you and Ben."

“He broke up with you, didn’t he?” Rachel frowns deeply, upset on your behalf. “That asshole. I’m going to chew him a new asshole.”

"It just wasn't meant to be, that's all." The last thing you want to do is cause more drama with this group of friends that she has. It's bad enough that her father is in the middle of all of this. "And he's entitled to make that decision for himself."

“Did he say why?” She demands.

"He didn't have to say why." But now she's upset, and you start buzzing around the kitchen again to keep yourself busy and hopefully soothe both of you with some food. "If it makes you feel any better, he wasn't happy about it."

“Oh.” That makes her pause and she tries to see it from his point of view. “Oh shit….” She sighs and moves to flop back down into her chair. “He— it’s because of Dad, right?” She asks quietly. “Some kind of bro code. ‘Thou shall not sleep with friend’s former girl’? That has to be it.”

"I don't know if it's as formal as that, but...basically." Yogurt and fresh fruit from the fridge are joined by a box of granola from the cupboard and you put on a fresh pot of coffee to brew. "It's okay, sweet pea. I promise. And please don't think any less of Santiago for putting his friendship first. He's known Frankie a heck of a lot longer than he's known me."

“I just— I don’t like the fact that him showing up has ruined things for you.” She’s still conflicted, and she would never tell you her secret fantasy, even as close as you are.

"It's better to find out early on." That's what you're telling yourself this morning. That you were better off finding out that Santiago and Frankie are best friends before you and Santiago had started planning for the future. "It's not anybody's fault. It's just...how life is sometimes."

She blows out a guilty sigh. “I wish I had stayed home.” She mourns. “I didn’t know he was going to break up with you. You were all alone.”

"I didn't want your night ruined." Once the coffee pot is going again, you grab bowls and spoons and bring the whole tray of breakfast things to the table. "You deserve to have a nice time with your boyfriend. That shouldn't stop on account of your Mom having a little drama in her life."

“A little drama…” she snorts and rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. Unaware that she looks exactly like Frankie would have. Right down to the downturn of her frown and the crease of her dimple.

"You look exactly like your father when you do that, you know." You've always thought so, and she's been doing that posture since she was a toddler. "If you ever see him do it, it will be like looking in a mirror."

She rolls her eyes again, sensing that you are trying to steer the subject back to him and she lets you “Tell me about it?” She asks softly. “All of it. The good, the bad and the ugly.”

"For the most part, it was all good," you admit. A basic breakfast comes together easily for both of you and you fill your bowls with yogurt and fruit and honey and granola in your own personal perfect ratios. "We were nearly inseparable. And since we went to the same school, and our Dads worked for the same company, it all went pretty smoothly for a long time. Everybody just...assumed we would always be together. Even us."

“Was there ever any sign he would break up with you?” Rachel can’t even fathom how abruptly the relationship ended if you were as close as you say. It’s just not how she knows her mother to be. You have always been strong and vocal.

“We had a whole plan.” A plan that went haywire, but a plan nonetheless. “But…when I found out I was pregnant I panicked. I started pressing Frankie to get married quickly, instead of waiting like we had planned. I should have told him why, but I was seventeen and convinced that he would just break up with me if I told him the truth. And…no, before you ask. He never gave me any indication that he wouldn’t have wanted a baby. But he wanted to wait to do the grown-up things, so I thought that springing the news on him would ruin it. But if I could show him that getting married earlier wasn’t a big deal, then the baby news would be okay, too. It…it doesn’t make a lot of sense in retrospect. But we were just about to graduate high school and I was hiding my morning sickness by claiming it was nerves over my boyfriend joining the Army. I was not at my best critical thinking levels.”

“Do you think he would have stayed if he had known about me?” The question is quiet, introspective. Wanting to know if she would have been wanted. She knows you love her; you’ve always made that clear, but she also wants to know about the man who is the other half of her biological makeup.

“I didn’t think so at the time, but I don’t know how much of that was just fear of the unknown,” you admit, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently in your own. “But I know he wants to get to know you now. I’m sorry that isn’t a very good answer.”

“Are you— are you okay with that?” She asks, unsure if getting to know Fransisco would cause you pain. She wouldn’t want that, not for a moment. “If you don’t want to see him….” She shrugs. “I can meet him out in town. Not talk about him.”

“Honey, no.” On this point you are absolutely firm, and you shake your head adamantly. “There’s been enough years of not talking about your father. He’s not someone to be ashamed of and we’re not going to treat him that way.” Will it hurt? Of course. But you would rather see Rachel happy than anything else in the world.

“Okay.” She’s still eyeing you doubtfully, but she agrees. For now, she will just make sure that there isn’t a lot of talk about the man you had loved. “Do you— how do you feel about getting to know him again? Seeing him?”

“I wish it hadn’t been by surprise.” That admission comes with a little laugh, because yesterday is still so unbelievable to you, but you just shrug and shake your head. “To be honest, sweet pea? If I can’t face him at this point, I’ll never be able to. And you deserve to know your father.”

“It might be a good thing, then.” She decides. “You make it sound like you never expected to see him ever again.”

"I didn't." You can admit to that very easily.

She nods, looking down at the photos again. “You loved him.” She can tell that easily by the besotted look on your face. “Do you still? Or love that version of him?” She points to the high school photo of them together.

"You're really not going easy on me with the questions today, are you kiddo?" The coffeepot finishes percolating, and you pop up from the table again, needing a fresh cup if you're going to continue on with this line of thought from your daughter. After a few moments of silence filled only by the pouring of hot coffee, you return to the table and sigh. "Yes." You nod finally. "I still love him very much. But who he was then and who he is now may be two completely different people so I have no intention of making a nuisance out of myself after a whole lifetime apart. I only care that you get to have your father around if you want him in your life."

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “Who would have fucking ever thought? Not me. I mean, I always thought it would be wild if Ben had met my dad. But you nor my grandparents ever even said his name.”

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Rach. Life just...doesn't make sense sometimes. But we always make the best we can out of the confusion." The two of you doctor your coffee and dig in to your light breakfast. Whatever happens, you will just keep rolling with it. Your adult life has been making sure that Rachel is cared for and happy, and that doesn't change just because Frankie Morales still makes your heart clench.

******

He’s in the room with Luna when there’s a knock at the front door. Watching her play with the toys in front of her and squeal happily for tummy time. She’s almost ready to crawl, but for some reason, hasn’t started yet. It irritates Marie, but Frankie is happy to have his daughter still immobile for a bit longer. Once she starts moving, there will be no stopping her.

Marie pulls open the front door with a huff, dressed to go out and irritated that she's being delayed even for a few seconds. "Will." The figure of Frankie's friend fills the doorway and where she once had patience to pretend to be glad to see any of them, it has evaporated recently. "He's been in with the baby since yesterday. Good luck getting him out."

“Hey Marie,” Will doesn’t care for the woman, but he also knows that as long as Frankie is with her, he needs to be polite. Knowing that causing any problems for his former teammate would not be in the man’s best interest. “You are dressed up nice. Big plans?”

"Girls' day," she tells him breezily. Marie grabs her purse and sunglasses with the door still open and swans right through it. "Bye!"

“Bye.” He watches her practically zip down the stairs and chuckles slightly. It’s not like having a day for yourself is not warranted. He wonders if Frankie offered this so he could go to the cookout yesterday. “Fish?” He calls out, wanting him to know that he was here. Everyone is a little more on edge since South America and it wouldn’t be wise to startle him.

Luna squawks happily at the familiar sound of her uncle Will's voice, and he steps further into the apartment. Footfalls that are heavy enough to be heard, but not heavy enough to disturb the downstairs neighbors. The woman who lives below Frankie works third shift and will barely be asleep at this hour of the morning.

Frankie looks up as the door opens, his eyes falling on Will before looking back down at his daughter. “Uncle Will is here.” He coos, brow furrowed as he goes over yet another thing that he missed out on with Rachel. “What’s up?”

“Thought you could use some company,” Will tells him honestly, but he also reaches out for Luna and grins when she reaches back. “And I wanted to see my favorite niece in the whole wide world,” he babbles, laughing when the little girl giggles and looks over again at Frankie. He looks like he needs to stretch at minimum, if not run a marathon to get rid of some stress.

“Only—” Frankie breaks off from his usual retort, paling slightly when the new dynamic hits him all over again. “Where’s Jess?”

“Brunch with her sister.” Will’s girlfriend is typically around for whatever mischief the group gets up to when she isn’t at work, but makes seeing her sister a priority just like Will and Benny make each other priority. It gives her a good foundation of understanding for the Miller brothers, and makes her a solid support person for the whole group — not just for Will. “She asked me to apologize to you for having to work yesterday. Said it sounded like you could have used the support…”

“Yeah.” The word is heavy, pushed out of him on a sigh. He reaches up to scrub his hair, his hat missing this morning and he picks up Luna to hand her to Will when she keeps squawking for him.

“Hey little fairy queen!” Will blows a raspberry on Luna’s cheek to make her laugh and nods his head that Frankie should follow him out into the living room. “Marie went out,” the younger man tells him.

Nodding quietly, Frankie groans as he pushes himself up off the floor. “Yeah. She said something about a day off.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else. Seems like she’s needed more and more days off since he’s come back from South America, but every time he suggests spending time together, it’s thrown in his face that he was radio silent for nearly fourteen days – double the amount of time he had said he would be gone. Frankie has just given up trying to apologize.

“Talk to me, Fish.” Will insists, carrying Luna into the kitchen to grab them drinks and looking the little girl over. “Does she need a bottle? I have no idea what time it is.”

“She ate about an hour ago.” Frankie sighs and moves over to the fridge, opening it up to notice that Marie didn’t get the cereal he had asked for, nor any of the baby foods. He sighs and grabs a couple of sodas. It’s a bad idea to drink right now. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Fish.” Will’s tone is deadpan and matter-of-fact all at once. “C’mon man.”

Sighing again, he pops the top of his soda and takes a swing. “What do you want me to say?” Frankie huffs. “This is going to be a big fucking deal.” Marie is going to kill him. It’s not going to matter that his child is grown or that he never even knew about her. His girlfriend had this strange obsession with having been the only girl to have a baby with him. Had once jokingly told him that she had baby trapped him— although it hadn’t felt like much of a joke at the time. She had been six months pregnant at that point. “I feel goddamn guilty.”

“You had no idea.” Will reminds him. He cracks the cap on the soda that he had been handed and quietly approves of the choice. Marie hadn’t been a very good influence in Fish’s habits but since coming back from South America he’s been trying to clean up his act pretty dramatically. “But uh…hell of a coincidence, honestly. We always knew you and Pope had the same taste in women.”

“Fuck.” Frankie snorts and rolls his eyes, trying to hide the pain in them. “It’s not that….” He hedges guiltily, reaching out and tickling Luna under her chin and then dropping his hand. “I’ve been stuck on what could have been if I had known.”

“Would you have stayed?” It’s a hard question, and maybe it doesn’t have an answer, but it’s important that he’s at least thought about it. About what he would have done then and what he’ll do now.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” The answer is immediate and fierce. “I should have asked questions. Demanded to know why she wanted to get married so badly.”

“You were kids.” That part of the situation cannot be stressed nearly enough, and the two men bring Luna into the living room to settle her in her playpen so they can talk.

“We were adult enough to make a baby.” Frankie shoots back before he winces. “One who is currently fucking your brother. Jesus Christ.” He flops down onto the sofa and covers his face with his hand.

“Yeah…Benny promises to cool his jets talking about her like that, by the way.” That conversation had been had between the brothers already — Benny had brought it up and Will promised to deliver the message. “He never would’ve if he had known.”

“Still gonna punch him.” Frankie snort out, looking up at the ceiling. “Definitely didn’t need to know that shit about my daughter.”

"More than fair," Will agrees with a snicker. "He absolutely deserves it. My only request is to be allowed to film it for posterity."

Frankie laughs, probably for the first time since his world has been flipped upside down and he leans back. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

"Perfect world." Will poses, pointing a finger and the neck of the Dr. Pepper bottle at Fish. "Best case scenario, what would you want?"

Frankie shakes his head. “Time travel isn’t possible, man.” He sighs and looks over at Luna. “And I don’t regret having my baby girl.”

"Okay, that's fair." Nobody could regret little Luna, in his opinion. She's the best baby in the world, and he and Benny have their fair share of nieces and nephews to compare to back home from their sister. "Best case scenario of the future."

Guilt swims in his stomach and he rubs it reflexively. “Come on, she hates me.” He starts out. “There’s no way I could possibly have that happily ever after like in some kind of fucking Hallmark movie.” He closes his eyes. “Besides, Marie would fucking murder me.”

"Respectfully, Marie can rot in hell." None of the guys like her, but Fish had been so deep under her spell in the beginning that they had let things run their course, hoping that he would come to his senses along the way. Instead, Fish ended up with a baby on the way. "If you want your girl, maybe one of us can at least do a little recon before you just assume that she hates you?"

He hates the hope that blooms, knowing it would be squashed quickly. “Fuck— how could she not hate me?” He huffs, rolling his eyes and flopping his head forward to take another sip of the soda, even if he desperately wishes it was a beer. “I left her alone to raise a kid. Our kid.” He bites his lip. “I almost saw her….after boot camp. But I was too goddamn stubborn and that bit me in the ass.”

"What happened?" Trying to poke and prod along this highway through Fish's memories is precarious, but it's why Will is here. Pope isn't going to be able to talk sense into Fish right now while he's still getting over the woman who fathered his best friend's oldest child. And Benny sure as fuck isn't going to be the one to offer advice when he's currently sleeping with said oldest child. This one is Will's job.

“I don’t even fucking know.” Frankie closes his eyes. “There was the normal bullshit teasing.” He admits. “Everyone saying I was going to knock her up before we graduated. Have to get married. But we had a plan. I was going to go through boot camp and my schooling and then we were going to get married.” It’s filtering through memories that he’s simultaneously repressed and played over and over again. Not sure where daydreams end and reality begins.

It does no one any good to point out that he had very clearly gotten you pregnant before graduation, so Will glosses over that particular detail entirely. "So when she started pushing too, you dug your heels in?"

“She just hit me with it out of nowhere.” Frankie tells him. “At our graduation party. Demands that we get married. Gets angry when I remind her that we had a plan. That I wasn’t marrying her right out of high school.” Frankie sighs, the ‘hindsight is 20/20’ saying is smacking him on the forehead, but you could have told him. “She started crying and telling me we had to get married or it’s over and I snapped.”

"Okay." When Will nods, he leans forward in his seat and watches Luna playing with her brightly colored plastic key ring for a few seconds. "So neither of you gets points for 'Most Mature Teenager Ever'. That's not super surprising."

“No, but I could have cooled down. Gone back to talk to her.” Frankie sighs. “I left for boot camp the next day.”

"But we all know you never forgot about her." The elder Miller brother looks up, raising an eyebrow at Fish and daring his friend to challenge him. "We all have heard you talk about her."

Frankie blushes slightly, knowing that Will is right. “You never forget your first love.”

"Can I be honest?" Normally it's not something he has to ask about, but this is a sensitive topic.

“Shoot.” They’ve been friends for too long to even question it, but Frankie gives him the go ahead.

"It's pretty obvious to anybody who knows you that..." Will shrugs, almost apologizing for the observation. "That you're still in love with her. Or at least you still have love for her."

“That obvious?” Frankie rolls his head back and groans. “Great. Now everyone is going to think I’m pathetic. And Marie can never know who she is. Never.”

"Nobody thinks you're pathetic, Fish." He chuckles softly as Luna has her keys in one hand and reaches for her teddy with the other, determined to have both toys at once. "But man...we've got to do something about this whole situation before you lose your mind or your health or both."

“Seriously thought about just getting faded.” He shoots Will a bland smile to show he’s joking. “Too bad we burned Lorea’s house down. Sure he had some shit stashed in there too.”

"That shit would've killed you," Will points out without hesitation. "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You and the little queen over here deserve a way better environment than the one you've got."

“Marie swears she’s clean too.” Frankie had gone into rehab before the baby was born, another sore spot between them. But he wants to get his license back bad enough that he would do whatever it takes.

"It's not just that." It's largely that, but not just. "We're worried, Fish. Honestly worried. You're miserable except for your little girl, and you don't have to be."

“She’s pissed at me.” Frankie reminds Will. “Rightfully so. I got popped on a test. I lost my fucking license.”

“So you’re telling me it’s just right now?” Will challenges. “It’s completely temporary that Marie is upset. It’s not been years of excuse after excuse and abusive, controlling behavior that you would have called any single one of us out on already?”

“What do you want me to do, Will?” He feels helpless and stuck. “We have a kid together. I can’t just fucking get rid of her.”

“Jess and I talked.” It might be horrible, but just getting Frankie to admit that he would rather not be with Marie is a huge step forward. They’ve been worried about him for a long time and they’ll take the avenue in that they’ve got. “We cleaned up the spare bedroom and we want to offer it to you and Luna. One floor away might not be far from Marie yet, but it’s a good first step. A safe step.”

“She’s going to try to take Luna from me.” Frankie is immediately shaking his head no, sitting up. “I can’t— Jesus Will, she knows what happened in South America. You don’t think she won’t use that shit to take my child from me?”

“She has no proof.” The reminder is a stark one. That the trip five men made and only four returned from was a dire one. “We were ghosts down there, man. As far as anybody can prove, we were in Sao Paolo on a boys’ trip. That’s all. Nothing illegal about that whatsoever.”

He’s right, but the blind panic still grips Frankie. “I can’t lose her.” He murmurs, looking over at where she has tired herself out and sprawled on the mat of her play pen to sleep. “I’ve lost too much already.”

"We're going to do everything we can, and we're going to be on your side every step of the way," Will assures him. "If you want to get out of this situation, then we're going to help you. Together."

“She’s gotta leave me.” Frankie had never married her, thank God, but he sighs softly. “I think she’s close.”

Ruefully, Will chuckles under his breath. "Then maybe we should tell her about Rachel."

Frankie huffs out a small chuckle. “Do you want her to hit me with a fuckin’ frying pan?”

"My reflexes are pretty good," he's still chuckling, but this time he shrugs and nudges Fish. Seeing him laugh even a little is good. "I'll stop it before the pan gets to you."

“You mentioned a lawyer once.” Frankie reminds him. “You think you could—? I mean, you don’t have to.”

"Absolutely." There is no hesitation in Will's answer. In fact, he's practically pulling out his phone.

“Don’t— I mean, just talk to them.” Frankie hedges. “See if they would be willing to talk to me.”

"I know he will, but I won't jump the gun. I'll just talk to him." The lawyer in question is ex-Army and specializes in custody cases without a clear-cut answer. Will knows he'll do everything he can for a man like Frankie.

He can’t even believe he is contemplating this. “I know she’s going to find out about Rachel.” Frankie murmurs quietly. “But I’m dreading it.”

"That's more than fair." Shifting on the couch, Will looks away from the little figure of Luna asleep in her playpen and focuses on Frankie. "But will it be better or worse if she finds out on her own, rather than you being direct with her?"

“I don’t fucking know.” Frankie frowns, scratching his head. “She’s been so….volatile after Luna. Or South America. Pick one. But she just throws a fit when I tell her to go to the doctor.”

"You shouldn't be alone when you tell her." That much is pretty damn obvious, but Will isn't beyond stating the obvious right now. "If for no other reason than having a corroborating witness for the custody trial."

“Might need a camera.” Frankie snorts quietly, hating how bad things have gotten. He could deal with a lot of shit, but it’s getting be too much.

"Florida's a two-party consent state," Will reminds him. "A witness is better than a camera."

Frankie blows out a sigh and nods. “Yeah. You’re right.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand how I get myself into this shit.”

“What matters is that we’re going to get you out of it.” The promise is solemn. Quiet, even. That they are going to get Fish out of this hellhole of a relationship. “You and Luna. You’re going to be safe, so she can grow up without worrying that her mom is going to blow up at any time.”

“I don’t understand what went wrong.” Frankie continues on, shaking his head. “It was good at the beginning.”

“Not everything is made to last.” They aren’t necessarily the softest words of wisdom out there, but Will knows as well as anyone that good things come to an end. After all, things were great with his ex-fiancée until they weren’t. “And sometimes…sometimes we get a second chance.”

“Not that I deserve one.” That comment comes for a multitude of reasons, not just leaving you alone and unsupported during your pregnancy and your daughter’s life.

Will hums, understanding where the thought comes from even if he doesn’t agree. “Isn’t that up to her, ultimately? And to you, if you want to give her a second chance?”

“I don’t have any reason to not give her anything.” Frankie snorts. “I owe her. A shit ton of back child support, too.”

"Just start small," the other man advises. The small smile playing on his lips is just from being happy that his friend is starting to seem more relieved. "Talk to her. Get to know Rachel better."

Frankie blows out a sigh and looks over at Luna again. He can’t imagine missing any more time with her than he has to, and he missed Rachel’s entire life. He had a lot to make up for. “Yeah.”

Will blows out a sigh, reaching over and patting Fish's shoulder with the force of a man who knows his own strength but understands some people need to have love and support knocked into them instead of handed gently. "We'll figure it out, man," he promises. "Whatever it takes.”

******

Because Marie is gone out for a girl’s night and Will’s girl is spending the day with her sister, Frankie and Will end up ordering a pizza. Relaxed for the first time since the big reveal, Frankie is sitting on the sofa, laughing with two slices on a plate and another soda in his hand. Luna is already fed, bathed and down for the night, so he’s seriously contemplating the option of a beer.

The door slams open without ceremony, definitely loud enough to make both men inside jump and loud enough to wake up the baby, but Marie doesn't care. She tears inside like a tornado, already seething and ready to scream before she's even closed the door behind her. "Francisco!"

“Jesus!” Frankie jumps up, pizza spilling onto the floor and he’s half afraid that there’s been an accident, until he sees her fury-filled face. “What?”

"What the fuck is this?" There is a slip of paper in Marie's hand and Frankie's coat is draped over her arm, but she throws that down on the floor in the entry way. "Tell me why I reached into your coat pocket and found some slut's phone number?"

His eyes widened, latched onto the paper and he shakes his head. “It’s not— Marie— she’s not— it’s not like that.” He promises, holding his hands up. “I don’t fuck around on you.”

"Then who the fuck is Rachel?" She snarls, practically spitting the name at him as though its very existence was proof enough of his wrongdoing.

“She’s Benny’s girl.” He pleads for her to understand. “I promise. She gave me her number as a friend, nothing more. She’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in her.”

"So you're fucking your friend's girl now?" Marie is very much in the camp that men and women can't be friends without sex getting in the way, so she doesn't buy this bullshit for a second. "Do you hear this Miller? This asshole is fucking your brother's girlfriend."

“God no.” Frankie nearly blanches at the thought and he can’t shake his head fast enough. “No— I’m not fucking her. Never. Please, babe, you gotta believe me. There’s nothing like that between us.”

"Is that where you were yesterday, asshole?" The fire in Marie's eyes makes it abundantly clear that she has already drawn her own conclusions. She has already decided what happened and nothing Frankie says will dissuade her. "Rachel's house?"

“With Benny.” Frankie stresses, wincing when he hears Luna start to cry out in her bedroom. “Fuck.” He hisses. “Will was there. Nothing happened. Goddamnit, you woke the baby.”

"Oh, who gives a fuck about the baby?" She wails, which only makes Luna cry louder. "You're cheating on me!"

“Hold on.” Will doesn’t like to get involved in this, but he holds up his hand. “Fish isn’t cheating on you.”

“Nobody asked you.” Marie spits, clearly only wanting Will involved in the argument when it suits her.

“I’m not cheating on you.” Frankie implores one more time. “Please, just— believe me. Rachel is—” he can’t say it. The words are stuck in his throat.

“Rachel is what, Francisco?” She’s spitting mad — literally — and when Frankie doesn’t answer her immediately she steps further into his space and slaps him clean across the face. “You’re a piece of shit, Morales. But you knew that already.”

His head snaps to the side but he doesn’t react. Will tenses, not sure if Frankie would ever snap to jump back, but he knows that it would be a mistake on the other man’s part. “I am.” Frankie tells her quietly. “We both know that.”

Satisfied with at least that one answer, Marie tosses the piece of paper on the ground at his feet and crosses her arms. “So what the fuck do you have to say for yourself?”

She won’t stop. Not now. Now that she has this insane idea in her head that he’s cheating on her. Frankie glances over at Will, sighing heavily and he scrubs his hands on his pants. “Thing is…Marie…” he swallows, feeling nervous even though he had been cool under more dire circumstances than these. “Rachel is….uh, she’s my fucking daughter.” He confesses quietly.

The moment of hesitation before Marie starts laughing like a disgusted hyena is only the amount of time it takes her to process the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard in her life. Without another second of thought or hesitation, Marie's hand makes contact with Frankie's cheek a second time, the slap ringing through the apartment with a violent vibration. "You should have been groveling on your knees every day you had me," she spits, arms crossed again despite looking like she wants to make it three slaps for 'good' measure. "You fucked up for the last time, Morales. Hope Rachel is enough of a slut to make up for the fact that you wouldn't know where to put your dick with a road map." Shoving past both men, the whirlwind of Marie's anger propels her toward the bedroom with impressive velocity. "Have fun raising that crotch goblin alone, asshole. You fucked up for the last time."

“Marie…” Frankie can’t believe what the fuck she just said. The door to the bedroom slams open and he can only pray that it’s their bedroom and not Luna’s as the baby’s screams get louder. “I’m coming, baby girl.” He rushes to the baby, wanting to protect her and calm her down.

Will stands in the living room, hypervigilant with his phone in his hand to call for help – emergency services or the guys, whichever is needed – just in case. Frankie had closed the door to Luna's nursery behind him to keep the noise down but it's the door to the master bedroom that Will is watching closely. If Marie wants to start shit with him, too, he's right here ready for it.

Rushing over to the crib, Frankie picks up a red-faced, screeching Luna. Gasping for air as she screams, shaking in fury. “It’s okay, baby.” He coos softly, making sure to keep his own emotions closed off, not wanting to transfer energy to her. “Daddy’s gotcha. I’m right here. Shhhhhush.”

Rattling from the room next door continues, finding a crescendo in the crashing of something that might have been furniture. When Marie throws the door back open she seethes at Will, screaming something incoherent before shoving him out of the way to snap up a few things from the living room and throw them into the various bags she has been packing in the bedroom. Mere seconds later, she is marching out the door with one last screeched "FUCK YOU, FRANCISCO!" and leaving it open as she stomps off down the hall into the night.

Luna is halfway soothed, still hiccupping and sobbing into his chest as Frankie rocks her as he paces around the room. Completely sure that his girlfriend has trashed the apartment, but his concern is his daughter.

The door to the nursery opens slowly about a minute later, and Will swallows but shakes his head solemnly. "Well..." The best he can do is sigh. "She's gone. Took about four bags with her."

Frankie turns and nods. “Can you— uh, I think she might need another bottle.” He tells Will. “I don’t want to put her down.”

"I got it," Will promises, putting up one hand as if to tell Fish to stand down. "I also called in reinforcements. The guys should be here in no time. We'll get the place cleaned up and figure things up." He flashes his friend a half smile, trying for a joke. "Guess you won't need to move in with me and Jess after all."

“I don’t—” Frankie bites his lip and frowns. “You don’t think she will come back, do you?”

"Maybe for some stuff she left behind, but those were full bags, Fish." Will shakes his head again, not even sure what to say at this point but sure as all hell that things will be figured out before the night is over. "I'm just glad it's not too late. The number of noise complaints should be fewer." With that, Will steps away to make Luna a bottle and wait for the others to arrive.

“It’s okay, baby girl.” Frankie rumbles softly, rubbing her little back and jostling her to calm her down. “You’re okay. Everything is good.”

******

Benny ignores his phone the first time it goes off in his pocket. The second time, even. It's the third time his phone buzzes with a text message that he apologizes and takes his cell out at the kitchen table as he's eating dinner with you and Rachel. "It's the group chat," he explains, the repeated apology apparent in his voice. You both know there is a group chat with the guys, but opening it at the table isn't his usual thing. He tries to have manners around his girlfriend's mother. "Oh shit..." Benny breathes a second later, eyes widening as he reads the texts.

“What?” Rachel looks over at Benny in concern. She knows how hard he tries to impress you and it’s rare that he’s even pulling out his phone.

"I, uh..." He's already halfway pulling the napkin out of his lap with panic on his face, and he looks up at you and Rachel but his eyes jet back down to his phone. "It's Frankie," he explains, unsure how that particular news is going to go over. "He's...my brother is over at his place. It's a SOS text."

“What is it?” Rachel’s eyes widen and she reaches for Ben. Almost ready to claw the phone from him to see for herself. Her mind has immediately started spiraling with worst case scenarios.

"The text says clean up and mission assessment," Benny tells her, although he knows that that won't make any sense to her. It's more like reassuring her that grabbing his phone won't do her any good.

"Is he okay?" You ask, wanting a much plainer and more immediate answer than whatever cryptic military text message he got.

"Safe." Benny clarifies. "That text means he needs our help, not that something has happened to him."

“I’ll go with you.” Rachel is immediately tossing down her napkin and standing. Clearing her plate so she can tidy up quickly and head out with him. It’s obviously time sensitive.

"Baby..." Benny stands too, watching Rachel's anxiety start to build very obviously. "You don't need to do that. We can take care of things. I don't even know what happened yet."

"It doesn't matter what happened." In the split second he looked away, you've stood up, too. Gathering things up on the table means you'll just throw leftovers in the fridge and wash the dishes later. "If he needs help, we're going to help him."

“Mom…are you sure?” Rachel stops and turns towards you. “You don’t have to. Everyone would understand.”

"Sweet pea, I have eighteen extra years of stubbornness on you," you remind her, never once pausing as you clear up from dinner. "We'll take two cars, I'll follow you and Ben since I don't know where I'm going."

Rachel looks over at Benny, but he’s just shaking his head and holding his hands up. Unwilling to get in the middle of that argument. “Don’t look at me.” He snorts.

"Leftovers in the fridge. Two cars. Let's go," you insist, knowing from the churning in the pit of your stomach that whatever the problem is...you're in it now. If Frankie needs help, you're going to be right there to give it to him.

“Yes ma’am.” Benny helps put away the food, clearing his own plate and grabbing his keys out of his pocket. “You can follow me.”

______

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[hxjikonn]

hello I saw that the applications are open ^^ if possible, I would like to request headcanons for riddle,vil,rook and jamil with an orphaned fem mc who had a difficult life and every new thing she sees excites her, for example a delicious meal or the Big of the bedrooms jsjs, as an extra fact when they finish eating, mc gets up from the table with her plate to go wash it properly, because since she was little, they taught her to wash what is hers in the orphanage u.u well that would be all <3 thanks :))

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Pure as the driven snow

☆Staring☆: Riddle Rosehearts, Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt and Jamil Viper. (Bonus I added Lilia Vanrouge cuz I just love him okay??😭🤚🏻)

Synopsis: Headcannons of them with an orphaned reader.

Heads up: SMIDGE OF ANGST, Reader is Gender Neutral

Riddle Rosehearts

At first he’d be confused, he thought you didn’t have stuff, food and places like this in your world.

When Ace and Deuce took you to Heartslabyul for the first time you were in awe with everything you saw.

What’s weirder is that you asked him and trey if it was okay for you to eat the delicious food on the table. And you started cleaning up afterwards, Trey tried to tell you not to, but you brushed him off and continued to do so.

Riddle was more perplexed when you said you had a nice dormitory too, knowing that Ramshackle looks like a dump, he asked you what you found so nice about it

You told him that you found everything nice, and told him you never had a big home to live in before. So he asked where you lived previously

That’s when he found out you were an orphan, and you have been living in the orphanage for awhile now before coming to NRC.

After you tell him this, he’d always invite you to tea parties, unbirthday celebrations or just to come to Heartslabyul to hang out with them.

Whenever you did, he’d have Trey cook/bake your favorites, and if you were to sleep over, he’d let you have the one of the vacant rooms all to yourself.

He found the wonder in your eyes and your smile endearing, he’d make sure you always look that way, happy and content.

He’d love to take you to his hometown during school breaks or holidays but he really doesn’t want you to meet his mother, he knew how tactless she can be, he’s afraid you might get offended.

So instead he take you along with Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce and Grim. To other places instead, like beaches, theme parks, etc.

Just wants you to experience a lot of stuff, see a lot of places and have fun.

Vil Schoenheit

He’s used to people being in awe as they look at him, however you were different. Whenever you’d get the chance to see him doing his make up, you’d watch and stare, occasionally asking questions about what does what, and complimenting him.

He asked if you wanted to try, he expects you to eagerly say yes, but you hesitate and to his surprise you even asked if it was okay for ‘someone like you’ to use his stuff.

He didn’t quite understand that, but he told you that you could, he guided you but eventually he was took the lead and just did it for you.

When he finished, the he swore that the sun hadn’t shine brighter than the smile you showed him looking at yourself in the mirror.

There you mentioned that you felt like those pretty people on TV, Vil tsked with a smile, he told you ‘not yet’ then proceeded to dress you up with luxurious clothes that fit you

He asked why your eyes were closed and you said that you wanted it to be a big reveal and ran to the mirror, and when you opened your eyes you gasped, making Vil giggle a bit.

He was just staring at you while you spun around to look at yourself, he asked if this was your first time dressing up jokingly but you answered with a yes, and you told him that the orphanage you used to live in only provided old clothes.

It took him by surprise, suddenly everything was clear to him now, how you’d be so amazed with everything, as if it was new to you, how you’d ask before him or Rook if you were allowed to do something or not, how you’d stand up to wash your own dish after you eat despite their protest.

He told you you could keep the clothes, and you were so happy that you went and gave him a quick hug before running off to show Epel how nice you looked. If it were anyone else who hugged him he’d probably straggle them but since it was you, he lets it slide.

After he found out, a few weeks later he went to Ramshackle to fetch you to go shopping for new clothes. You politely refused as you thought you’d pay, but as he pulled you out of the house he told you he’d pay for everything

Spoils you, rotten. You’d be hesitant to take whatever he gives you but you really don’t have a choice. New clothes, New shoes, New bag, it started to reach the point where you’d hide from Vil in fear of him giving you more stuff.

In his defense, you deserve all of it. The Pomeforie dorm leader has grown fond of your curious and cheerful self, he thought of you like a diamond in the rough, so he took it upon himself to always make that diamond shine.

Would ask Crowley if he could move you to Pomefoire instead because he doesn’t like you to be in Ramshackle as you told him it reminded you of your orphanage but bigger. This man would protest.

Rook Hunt

Honestly Rook would be the first to find out, and you didn’t have to tell him. He is very much known for his observant nature, he’d notice everything little thing about the peculiar magicless human who he found very interesting.

He notice strange little habits you did, like apologize for the smallest mistakes, how you’d only look down when you were scolded, how you treated yourself lowly from the other students and not let yourself talk back to them regardless if their your senior or in the same level as you.

Because of this, a lot of student thought of you as a push over and bullied you for being meek, Rook didn’t stand for someone who’s as pure intentioned as you get threatened and harmed.

He’d scare them off (dont ask how 💀) no one would dare to even breathe your direction after that, they were all walking eggshells around you. You were oblivious to this fact, you were just glad that the mean comments stopped.

He’d always approach you aswell, complimenting you, treating you kindly and respecting you. He thinks of your innocence as beautiful, and everyone knows he has a fascination with all thing beautiful.

He’d take you his different hunting grounds favorite places to hang out in, and you’d always look around in awe like a toddler in a toy’s store, which always makes his heart soften.

He’d write poetry for you, with you and would have you read his works to him, he loves how your voice makes his work 10x more beautiful.

He’d never make you feel like you’re below him because you were an orphan, he’d always make you feel comfortable and remind you that you don’t have to be careful around him all the time.

This man now has three fandoms, Neige’s, Vil’s and Yours, he can’t help it okay?

Jamil Viper

He saw Kalim in you, he thought you were ignorant of things because you were a spoiled noble or royalty back in your world. But when you were amazed by even more luxury, he started to think otherwise.

Kalim and you get along (unsurprisingly) but whenever you were with Kalim you’d distance yourself, and you wouldn’t even walk side by side with him either, you’d walk behind the both of them. He found this strange but of course he didn’t pry and just let you do you.

It was only when you all took a trip to scalding sands when he found out you were an orphan all your life, it was when Kalim was showing everyone around and you noticed that everyone knew Kalim due to him being the son of a wealthy and prestigious family so you fell back in the crowd of your friends and classmates.

Jamil noticed you were way far back, and he asked why you don’t walk side by side with Kalim since you two are close friends, that’s when you said ‘what would people think if they saw Kalim walking along side a poor orphan’ in a joking manner of course.

He could only respond with an ‘oh’ and you were quick to apologize having felt that you made him uncomfortable, he was also quick to tell you that you didn’t need to. Infact he was the one who should be apologizing having assumed awful things about you before.

He reassures you by telling you Kalim wouldn’t think of you that way, and lightly scolds you about being too harsh on yourself. Suddenly he saw you in a new light.

After this particular event taking place, you notice he started to take care of you, making you packed lunches, asking if you needed help with school, visiting you in Ramshackle just to ask if you’re doing okay.

You’d ask him about it, and he simply tells you that it’s because Kalim told him to. But in reality he wants to make you feel safe, he wants to make you feel like you’re cared about and you’re not a poor orphan.

Though he cannot provide you with luxury, he does do all that he can by teaching you new things, taking you to new places, he even takes you and Grim to his house in Scalding Sands whenever you guys are on school break.

He’d let you meet his family, his sister, and tells you to feel at home. And though you started off being timid and shy you slowly start to open up and feel welcomed, which makes him unconsciously happy seeing you comfortable.

Lilia Vanrouge

He took immediately notice of your meticulousness, how you’d use formalities and spoke carefully to people you don’t know well regardless of who they were, and often express gratitude even at the simplest of things.

He thought it was because you were just a well mannered child who was raised properly by your parents, that was until the day he told you he finds your parents amazing because they raised you well.

He was confused when you chuckled lightly at his statement, then you told him you’ve never even met them, Lilia was anything but dumb, he immediately put two and two together and realized you were an orphan.

As you explained that the caretakers in the orphanage were strict and would punish the children if they were disobedient, tactless or ungrateful a frown was set upon his face.

He apologized but you simply smiled and told him it wasn’t a big deal, maybe it wasn’t for you but it was for him. Afterall he did raise 3 boys on his own.

That day he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had told him, he couldn’t imagine a child not having a parental figure to raise them, he kept thinking, if he had left Silver that day he found him, he would end up in a cruel loveless orphanage as well.

The thought bothered him alot to the point where he showed up in Ramshackle the next day with adoption papers (and silver behind him, looking at you with a silent apology for his father bothering you so early in the morning)

You couldn’t even utter a word before he explained to you that he’s already talked to Crowley and now has taken full responsibility for you (and Grim) and all that the adoption papers are signed.

In layman’s terms you are now his child, he is your father and silver is your brother. No buts, No refusals, and No you cannot convince him to change his mind.

So having no choice, you eventually agreed to it, that being said you didn’t need to go back in your world now cuz you’re adoptive father and brother lives in Twisted Wonderland 💀

Edit: I REALIZED I PUT SEBEK INSTEAD OF SILVER TOWARD THE END 😭😭🤚🏻🤚🏻 SILVER IS YOUR BROTHER SILVER 😭😭😭 (also sebek but that’s besides the point)

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love

Love and relationships can't be forced but sometimes they can be built on common ground and an understanding of one another's tribulations.

Part 2 here

Donatello x Reader

Having a crush on someone sucks. Having a crush on someone who has eyes for someone else sucks even more. This is the sad truth of your current circumstances. You knew that high school would come with its challenges but you weren’t prepared for the fact that you’d fall for the careless, hockey-loving maniac from your math class. It began with a casual friendship before feelings deepened on your end. Feelings that wouldn’t seem so terrible were it not for April O’Neil. You have absolutely nothing against the girl but it’s clear as day that she unfortunately has Casey’s heart in her stronghold. It’s not like you could even vent these frustrations, given that the only friends you have happen to be those two people. 

Then, through some shenanigans that seem like the norm for you now, you meet four turtle brothers - one of whom is in the same boat as you. Not to mention, between the very two friends in question. Were it not heartbreaking to witness each other trying your hardest to grab the attention of your crushes, you’d find some humour in this.

You tried hanging out with Raphael more in an attempt to get in close quarters with Casey, seeing as they’re practically tied at the hip, only for you to realise that the rough-and-tumble environment isn’t your strong suit. That’s when they both suggested you try your hand at assisting Donatello in his laboratory given your aptitude for the sciences. What they failed to realise is that you do well in class but that doesn’t inherently mean you enjoy it. Theoretical sciences and learning about how things work are interesting but there aren’t enough practical applications that allow you to engage in the school environment. The closest you’ve gotten to having fun was when you made “elephant toothpaste” for a chemistry lesson but that’s about it. 

Nonetheless, you see no harm in passing by the lab and giving the brainiac brothers a visit. Other than your not-so-subtle pining towards the other humans in the group, nothing has been outwardly mentioned about the situation you are both in. Neither of you has hung out enough to have that conversation. It wouldn’t be weird to talk about it, would it? A query that shall not yet receive an answer seeing as you’ve already knocked on the large, metal door. You walk through the open garage to see a couple of legs poking out from under the battle shell. 

“Huh? Oh! (Y/n), sorry- Ow!” He slides out from beneath the vehicle and rubs the fresh bruise forming on his head. “Sorry, I’m a little busy, right now. I think Leo is watching Space Heroes if you’re looking for someone to hang out with, though.”

“Actually, I came by to see if you needed any help,” you offer, holding your hands behind your back respectfully whilst also trying not to laugh. 

His eyes widen, having not expected such a proposal, and he’s quick to scramble to his feet.  “Oh, okay! Let’s see- uh… how are you with engine repairs?”

“Depends.” Your tongue clicks contemplatively. “Is it gas, electric, or hybrid?”

“That already tells me you know more than enough,” he chuckles. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He opens the hood of the van to reveal the ensemble of burnt-out parts and overworked mechanisms. The guys’ last mission must have been intense because this engine is almost in complete disarray. Were it not for the fact that your Uncle is a mechanic, you’d be sweating under the pressure of somehow ruining this heap of metal more than it already is. A probability still if you want to jinx your person but that’s getting ahead of yourself. 

Donatello gestures towards a box of spare parts and holds the back of his neck. “These just need to be taken out and replaced. It’s probably the easiest of what needs doing but I also need to finish rewiring the brakes, check the throttle calibration, replenish the weapons ammunition-”

“You need an extra set of hands to get it done quicker,” you cut him off with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

He bares a gap-toothed smile in response and nods before resuming his initial position beneath the vehicle to finish the brake wiring. This leaves you to begin on your assigned job. For starters, you’re glad that this is a case of piecemeal repair rather than a complete engine rebuild. You’d be out of your depth were that the case. You start by pulling the entire engine out via a hoist, assisted by a load levelling bar so that it doesn’t tilt at a funny angle. Then, you secure it onto a stand and glance over what you’re working with. The crankshaft, piston ring compressor, oil filter, and fan need the most attention, so you start with those first. Just to save the disturbance, you look into a few tutorials on your phone to make sure you’re doing it correctly. 

During this entire time, the two of you work on separate parts of the battle shell in silence, seemingly content with your tasks. By now, Donnie has moved on to tightening the wheels’ lug holes. Admittedly, you had been concerned about a lack of things to talk about but this is a nice settlement. It’s certainly the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while; something to keep you distracted from the quelling of your hopeless romantic attraction. Plus, you have this sense of relief from finally being able to work on something with your hands rather than straining your brain over textbooks and pop quizzes.

"Question,” he starts abruptly, keeping his eyes on the centre cap of the wheel. “What’s it you like so much about that cave mouth?"

First, you blink quickly to yourself, having not expected to get into the nitty gritty of it so soon. So much for being distracted but you can’t be mad. Curiosity isn’t something to be berated. Then, you find yourself snickering at the mildly degrading nickname. The question may appear brash but he’s puzzled by why April seems to like Casey so much. Hearing it from you might give him the insight he needs to turn the odds in his favour. He’ll take anything at this point. 

"I dunno. There's just this air to him that I like. He's an ass, I am well aware of that, but he's fun, you know?” you admit awkwardly. “Psh! Don't ask me to explain it. You can't really put that stuff into words." You squint down at him, lips poised mockingly. "What is it you like about April so much?"

He halts his own task and glances down at his hands, cheeks reddening as he thinks about the girl of his dreams. "She just... had my heart from the first moment I saw her."

"Wow. The first girl you ever see in your life and it's just like that.” Yes, that bit of information is known thanks to our dear Raphael. “'Pretty shallow to fall in love with someone based on looks if you ask me." 

"You would know,” he scoffs sarcastically.

"Now you're calling Casey ugly?” you ask, both playful and moderately offended on your crush’s behalf. “Man, you really don't like him."

"I’m sure the same goes for you with April!"

"Hey! I don't stoop so low into my dissatisfaction of the circumstances to insult her." A wry grin then beckons your lips. "Although~"

"Whatever you think you're going to say, don't."

The staring match doesn't last long, breaking beneath a shared laugh; fond and unwilted by the ache in your hearts, which has been forgotten for a split moment to enjoy each other's company.

From that point on, that’s precisely what you did. More often than not, you found yourself in the confines of his garage, assisting him with the occasional doohickey and thingymabob. Even if there wasn’t much you could help with, you wound up being a decent lab partner in any case. In turn, he would offer to help you with your homework if you had any particularly difficult assignments. Your grades have never looked so good. When neither of you were doing that, you’d simply hang out and rant about little annoyances with your unreciprocated infatuations. 

“I mean, I try some jokes here and there but nothing seems to land,” he concedes begrudgingly, throwing his body weight into the back of his chair.

“Can I hear one?” you inquire as you gently swing around in your own seat. 

His lips press together and he mulls it over before sighing, “Okay, so, you remember how I told you about Metal Head?” You nod, to which he continues, “Well, the first time I took him out for a spin, we were on watch duty together. That’s when I asked her if she likes metal.”

He groans to himself as he replays the memory in his head, only now realising how corny that must have sounded at the time. However, you laugh and not the heckling kind either. Your head tilts back into your chair, knees lifting to compensate for the tension in your shaking stomach. How could April have not loved something as precious as that? The girl must be crazy because that would have worked on you in a heartbeat. 

“You should’ve asked if her favourite dance move is the robot,” you say in between laughs. “No, wait, wait! I got a better one! Ask her out to the circuits for a date!”

Donatello can only smile at your self-induced amusement, happy that there’s an appreciation for nerdy pickup lines and puns. They may not work on his crush - and his brothers sure don’t find them that funny - but he’s glad at least one person around here gets it. 

It felt good to know that you had a friend you could be closer to because of your mutual understanding. For the first time since you realised your feelings for your schoolmate, you didn’t feel so alone. This bond formed on cluttered affection may have seemed unlikely to begin with but who are you to complain now? You and Donnie have a good thing going given your positions. 

That is until your heart diverts its attention towards the very turtle. 

You came to the realisation when he expressed his excitement in showing you his newest invention. The fact that he had called upon you first made you feel special. It made you feel wanted and desired for the first time in your life. A seemingly small phenomenon given how he merely wanted to showcase something to you but the way it had tugged your heart was unparalleled to anything else you had ever experienced - and that smile. You could have happily fawned over that proud grin of proclaimed accomplishment and self-justified pride for the rest of that day. Then, it all came crashing down on you like heaps of scrap in a junkyard. You have fallen for someone who is in love with April. Again. Are you just doomed to fall for any man that crushes this girl? This must be some sick joke. One that you don’t find yourself laughing at. 

It eats away at you for the days - weeks - to come. You can’t console anyone on the matter, either. If any of his family catches wind, there’s a chance of him finding out. An outcome you wish to avoid if possible. As for Casey and April, dear lord you don’t even want to know what would happen if you told them. You’re at square one again just as before: crushing on someone who will never feel the same way about you. Rotting in a pool of your self-made disillusion.

Alone.

Having a crush on someone sucks.

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

[omamorens]

a while back you said something akin to “inkblade college au.. (head full of thoughts)” !! would you be so kind as to open your head and share them? i am begging you on my knees…. spare inkbkade college au.. pls…

dear anon you dont have any idea of the floodgates im about to open but!!! im imagining two main routes for this college au. bear with me with this long answer!!

the ‘met-again at college’ au:

In this version of the events, the Rat Grinders probably broke off to do their own individual thing after finishing junior year and their redemption quests.

Oisin would probably distance himself away from Elmville but still pursue wizarding school elsewhere. Probably at the Bastion City University.

This time, he does it correctly with no cheating.

Though if he was being honestly, still having access to the full benefits from the school of conjuration was probably an unfair advantage.

So he always pushed himself to do harder, to excel beyond expectations. He’s a chronic over-worker and just wants to do things right for once.

Oisin never gets into another adventuring party again and instead studies to be some type of wizard scientist, developing new spells and technology probably.

Adaine, by this time, is already a world-renowned adventurer and top divination wizard of their age, in her own right.

She’s already established somewhat of a mark to history at the young age of 24? 25? probably younger, honestly.

Oisin hears about her from time to time— they do occupy the same wizarding circles and its kind of hard to avoid mention of the Elven Oracle.

But she was a famous figure now, literally beyond reach from a lowly college student like himself.

Imagine his surprise when he sees her walk into his class one day, but not as a student, no.

Adaine was a guest speaker and was about to discuss to them the very interesting topic of the Cosmology of Extraplanar Realms and Studies of Divinities

Oisin blanked out most of it.

Too starstruck from seeing Adaine again and oh… his chest was hurting again, phantom-pains from the shatterstar that never really left his mind.

Or is it?

Before he knew it, the session has ended. He thinks it ended too soon but the topic was actually discussed for two hours.

But his professor has an announcement to make? He stayed back to hear it out.

“Miss Abernant will be conducting research in the university for some time, and she has graciously granted the Wizard Department the opportunity for a student to take up an internship role for the duration of her team’s stay. Interested students may submit a form to me and the decision will be passed to Miss Abernant’s team after careful deliberation. That is all, thank you.”

Oisin has spaced out again, reeling from the thought that their paths would probably cross even more now that she’ll be at BCU indefinitely.

“Mr. Hakinvar? Oisin Hakinvar?” his professor called for him, and he addresses her, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Ms. Abernant, this is the top student of the Wizarding course, Oisin Hakinvar. I would speak highly into considering him for the role…”

Oisin has drowned out the noise again, because Adaine was staring at him, a twinge of familiarity setting in on her features. And of annoyance.

“Oh, I know of him.” she says tersely, “Top student, you say? No unfair advantages to speak of?”

Oisin’s brow twitched at that, answering the question himself, “None at all. I’ll make sure to send in my form for the internship role.”

Because he was prideful more than anything, and the subtle mocking comment made at him was baseless.

Adaine doesn’t know him, not the way that he is right now. Not after he’s pushed himself over and over to prove that he is worthy to be here.

“Very well! I’m sure Miss Abernant will be pleased to review your form.”

“Trust me, I am very good on both paper and practical application.”

Adaine shouldn’t even care for him at all, but she was curious. After Oisin and his adventuring party disappeared off Elmville, she always wondered what they were up to. Maybe more evil plots? Maybe they died somewhere off Spyre? Who knows.

Now she does, and the kindling of curiosity was highly-flammable, the worst of all motivators she could have.

And yet.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” she says to him, like a challenge. Oisin was set on meeting her to it.

This AU is definitely tagged as “Enemies-to-Lovers”, constant bickering and challenging looks, academic rivalry too because thats always nice. Maybe a bit of mystery because I do love the allure of putting them in a dark academia setting.

the ‘they got close during senior year and went to college together’ au:

This one is definitely sweeter and idyllic.

If you’ve ever heard of Sabrina Carpenter’s new song “Please, please, please” this is the general theme; its what Adaine would feel like.

Because in this AU, Adaine finally gives Oisin the chance to date her during college.

They’re always together anyway; with both being wizards pursuing academe, their schools of study interact in much more ways than anticipated.

Lots of cute dates in between classes too!!

Going to the newest cafe to try out their menu.

Amusement park dates!! Museum dates!!!

Bastion City is filled with things to do.

And even when they don’t, just studying together was already a date.

Oisin would always have some part of his body in contact with her.

Maybe his tail wrapped around her calf under the table, his free hand on her knee when they read together side by side, or just letting her lean on to him if she gets too tired to sit upright.

Adaine, on the other hand, was a little more paranoid of their relationship.

Was she just lying in wait for Oisin to fuck up? Hopefully not, but the chances are never zero. And she hates thinking of that, because at some level, she does trust and love Oisin, wholeheartedly.

But the past has always been haunting her in some way or another.

And it’s hard to relax when danger has been everything you knew your whole life.

But Oisin was soft with her, caring and understanding, frankly a little possessive and obsessive, but it was just the healthy amount that makes her want to drag him to bed every night and assure him that she is all his.

And Oisin proves to her that he is all hers.

Just imagine. Domestic Inkblade. never thought i would live to see the day that both words are in the same sentence.

Lots of late night cuddles, of assurances, of future plans togethers.

Unending conversations of “i love you” said in the most unconventional ways.

AND OF COURSE this is college. you cant expect me to think of college au without having Adaine live up to her “Party Wizard” title!!!

Adaine definitely lets loose at parties. She has her friends with her, a loving boyfriend, and her life has never been better.

But god she has the worst alcohol tolerance known to mankind.

Oisin is definitely watching over her, excusing himself from drinking too much just incase Adaine goes wild again.

And oh she does.

Thank god Oisin is there to [i will not elaborate what happens here, but god is it in my head; just guess].

And then she wakes up with a raging headache and Oisin is more than happy to care for her (making her hangover food, massaging her sore spots).

Like I said, domestic. Fluff and comfort and so much healing. LIKE SOOO MUCH. this is the answer to the “we could’ve had it all” tag because in this AU, they have it all.

Good for them… good for them!!

Will I write this? Not anytime soon but God would I kill to read it. Someone… anyone… save me inkblade college au save me…

[beyondthesefourwalls]

This Love Came Back to Me (12)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, smut and allusions of smut, stalking, breaking and entering, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Twelve Word Count: 6K

Part Eleven :: Series Masterlist

----

----

You felt almost hungover waking up on Monday morning, but you supposed that was to be expected after a week away. The relaxation you felt in the mountains was slowly but surely coiling back up to a thick cord of tension, made only easier by the man beside you. You were meeting Sadie for coffee near her office that morning, and he held your hand in his the entire drive, singing along to his 80’s playlist softly under his breath. 

The tall, dark haired woman greeted you both warmly with a vibrant pink folder in her hand. You tried not to be annoyed at how your name was written on the label. Your whole life and this whole situation was shrunk down to what would fit on a few pieces of 8.5 x 11 inch paper. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. 

Bradley let you do most of the talking, a supportive hand on your knee. The woman his best friend was besotted with read through the texts he had saved and all that had come in yesterday with a critical eye. 

“Well,” she said, a touch of sarcasm etched in her tone, “he’s certainly not doing himself any favors, is he?” Sadie flipped through the folder, pausing to jot down notes on one of the blank forms. She set her pen down when she was done, leaning back in her chair and sipping on her coffee. "If we can prove that he's been harassing you, I think we have a shot at the restraining order. I know it was disappointing not to get the emergency order, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get it when we go to court, okay?" 

You nodded slowly, trying to grasp onto the hope she was dangling in front of you. “Do we know when that is?” 

“We should hear something this week about a date, and he’ll be served the papers once a date is set.” 

Your breath hitched slightly at the thought of that happening, and Bradley must have caught it, because he squeezed your knee in reassurance before he started talking. “So what does she do between now and then?”

From across the table, Sadie shrugged and gave you a smile you knew was meant to be reassuring. She addressed you directly in her answer. “If he continues to reach out to you, document it all, but don’t respond to him. If you see him, try not to engage. Don’t give him a reason to think any of it is consensual or that you’re encouraging it. And I know it may be hard, but other than that…just try and live your life as normally as you can. I’ll handle the legal stuff. You focus on you.” 

You snapped the hair tie on your wrist once you were back in the passenger seat of the Bronco. You stared out the window as Bradley drove through mid-morning San Diego traffic toward one of the retail districts nearby, mulling over everything Sadie had said. She had been so insistent that this wasn’t your fault, and that you had a solid case, despite the judge’s first glance at your application not being enough. It felt good knowing you had someone in your corner like her, who knew the ins and outs of this kind of process. 

But your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about what she said about documenting every time he reached out to you and how it could ultimately help. You glanced down at the phone sitting in the cupholder. You had blocked every number Paul had contacted you from. You had even taken the initiative in blocking his email account, too. You were en route to get a new phone number. Now, though, you were wondering if you had jumped the gun in all of that. 

You liked to believe that getting a brand new number would mean that Paul wouldn’t be able to reach you. But if him reaching you could ultimately help you, to provide you with something tangible to use to take action against him….

You took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe it had gotten to the point where you were really considering letting this happen. 

Bradley reached across the seat to squeeze your hand, startling you. You were so lost in thought that you hardly noticed that he had pulled into a parking space in front of the cell phone carrier store. He must have clocked the change in your expression when you turned to look at him by the way his changed, too. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You tried to figure out how to articulate what it was that you were feeling without making it seem like you had lost it completely. 

“Is this the best idea?” you finally settled on, and when your boyfriend asked you what you meant, you pushed forward. “Sadie said that anything he does can be used against him, to help prove he’s been…” you cut yourself off as the word popped in your head. It had been said earlier, and you knew deep down that’s exactly what it was. But saying that S word made it that much realer to you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it just yet. “To help prove he’s been doing everything he has. And if..If I disconnect my number, isn’t that almost like, I don’t know, getting rid of an opportunity?” 

He didn’t respond right away, but his grip on your hand tightened just the tiniest bit, and the thumb on his other hand tapped a quick rhythm against the steering wheel he was still holding. Those thick eyebrows of his that you loved so much furrowed together as he processed your jumbled explanation of feelings. Finally, he let go of your hand and reached to take the keys out of the ignition, killing the engine. He nodded toward the store in front of you.

“Let’s go inside. I have an idea.” 

He was out of the Bronco before you could protest, and you hurried after him, confused. He held his hand out to you from the sidewalk. 

“Bradley, what are we doing?” you asked, tugging him to a stop before you could get to the door of the store. He looked at you with what you could only describe as a determined look, touched with something close to desperation. 

“Just trust me, okay? And please don’t say no.”

His words left you even more confused, but there was something about his eyes and the feeling he was emanating that you couldn’t help but nod. 

He held the door open for you and you were approached by a salesman almost immediately, and before you could say anything when he asked if there was something he could help you with, Bradley was speaking up. 

“I was hoping to add a new phone and number to my plan.” 

“Of course. What’d you have in mind?”

He looked down to you with that same determined look on his face, but it was softer now. His smile was small but reassuring, and he squeezed the hand still held in his. 

“Pick out what you want.”

“B….”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could hear the words he spoke into your hair, only for you. “This way you can keep the other one on but not have to worry about dealing with it. Because you’re right, it could be useful. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you put up with the stress of seeing it everyday. Please, Bug. Let me do this for you.” 

You knew how much Bradley cared for you, but this was a big gesture. You had never been one to accept help easily, especially not financially, and part of you felt that getting a new phone on his plan would be too much. It took you a moment, but eventually, you swallowed the protest that was ready on your lips. When you nodded, you both felt and heard the sigh of relief that he let out. 

You knew how supportive of your independence he was, but you wondered if sometimes what he needed was for you to let him do things like this. 

Picking something out was fairly simple, just going with an upgraded version of what you already had. You stood together at the counter as everything was set up and added, Bradley signing the necessary paperwork. You wrapped both your arms around one of his, pressing a kiss into his clothed bicep. You let your eyes flutter closed and breathed in the scent of him. He always had a way of calming your nerves and making you feel safe, even in the midst of chaos. You weren’t really sure what you did to deserve him, but you wanted to hold onto him forever.  

____

Sadie called you on Thursday, about an hour before you were scheduled for a phone interview for the job you were crossing your fingers for, to let you know that your court date had been set for 3 weeks out. You spent the next thirty minutes trying to breathe through the panic that settled on your chest like a semi-truck. Tears stung in your eyes, wondering how the hell your life had gotten to this point. Then your phone buzzed with a text from Bradley, and you couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped you. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: You got this, baby! Proud of you. Have a great interview.

He always had a way of knowing exactly when you needed him, even if he didn’t realize it. You wanted to tell him about the court date, to seek that additional comfort that you knew he would provide you without question. But you remembered what both he and Sadie had told you earlier in the week, about living as normally as possible, and you knew they were right. You couldn’t let this ruin the possibilities in front of you. You wouldn’t. 

You typed out a response as you forced some of the anxiety out, taking exaggerated breaths to combat it until eventually, it worked. 

I love you, B.  

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: Love you, Bug. Go get ‘em. 

Despite the feelings that had threatened to overwhelm you right before the interview, you did go get ‘em, just like Bradley had said. You got an email about coming in for an in person interview less than two hours after you had hung up the phone, and it was the following Friday that found you sitting on the couch, waiting for Bradley to get home. You were practically vibrating with excitement by the time he finally walked through the door. He didn’t even get a chance to take his keys out of the lock before you were jumping up. 

“I got the job!” you blurted out. 

Bradley looked startled for a second, no doubt at how sudden and loud you spoke, and his forehead crinkled like he wondered what you were talking about before it clicked. His dark eyes widened and a grin started making its way onto his face as he dropped his bag and hurried to where you were standing in the living room of the apartment. “You got it?” 

You nodded rapidly, your giddy smile so large that it was making your cheeks hurt. “I got it.” 

Bradley yelled your name in excitement right before he swept you off your feet. You giggled as he spun you around, feeling weightless in his strong arms. “I knew you could do it!” Eventually, he set you down, but he didn’t let you go far. He pulled you flush against him in a tight embrace. 

"I'm so proud of you, Bug," he said, his voice conveying just how truthful he was being. “You deserve this.” 

You leaned into him, feeling safe and loved and happy in his arms. "Thank you,” you murmured, accepting the kiss that he placed on your lips. 

“We should celebrate,” he said. “Order in something delicious? Open another bottle of wine we got in San Bernardino?” 

That sounded lovely, and you absolutely wanted to do that. But aside from the meeting with Sadie almost two weeks ago and the in person interview that you had two days prior, you hadn’t left Bradley’s apartment since you got back from the cabin. You were hiding away, whether you admitted it or not. You didn’t want to do that anymore. 

“Let’s go out.” 

If Bradley was surprised, he didn’t show it. He didn’t ask if you were sure, or if you thought it was a good idea. He searched your eyes for nothing more than a moment before he was squeezing your hip and nodding. 

He trusted you enough to know that if you said it’s what you wanted, you meant it. And that meant more than you could ever say. 

You enjoyed dinner out at one of your favorite Mexican restaurants, sipping a margarita and eating your weight in chips and queso and spicy tacos. Bradley sat close to you in the booth, finishing off your plate when you couldn’t eat anymore, and you spent the entire meal laughing and flirting with one another like a regular date should be. And when you were done, you made your way to the Hard Deck. You had shot off a text to some of your friends while Bradley did the same to his before dinner, and you were ecstatic when you spotted Anna already amongst the rest of the aviators. You met her with a hug, and when she introduced you to her boyfriend, you were pleasantly surprised when Bradley already seemed to know him. 

“We’ve been deployed together before. He’s a good guy,” he told you once the two had made their way over to the bar for refills, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face at how things seemed to be falling into place. 

You greeted the rest of Bradley’s friends with the same enthusiasm, genuinely glad to see them.You hugged Jake and Javy a little harder, whispering a soft thank you to them. You had never gotten the opportunity to do so after they had went and got your car out of that parking lot all those weeks ago, but both of them just shrugged it off like it was nothing. You knew that everyone probably was aware of what was going on with you, at least to a certain extent, but you appreciated so much how they didn’t seem to look or treat you any differently than they had before. 

Bradley slipped a drink into your hand as you mingled with both of your friends. He was a warm presence at your back, his arm wrapped around you with one of his fingers hooked into the belt loop at the front of your jeans. You tilted your head back to look at him with a smile, and he clinked the rim of his beer bottle against the side of your glass. “Here’s to you, baby,” he murmured into your ear, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that went through your body. When Jake and Bob roped him into a game of pool at the tables not too far away a few minutes later, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before walking off. 

You spent some time with Anna and her boyfriend, and talked with Mickey about the latest true crime documentary that you both had watched. It was after your dart had literally embedded itself into the wall when you were playing with Javy that you said you needed a break. There were tears in your eyes from how hard you were laughing, and your cheeks were starting to hurt from the permanent smile that had been on your face all night. Bradley was still enthralled at the pool table, so with a look in his direction, you headed to the bar by yourself for another refill. It wasn’t long before a shoulder was bumping into yours. When you looked over, you smiled in recognition at the dark haired woman beside you. You had greeted her earlier, but hadn’t really had the time for conversation before you were both pulled in opposite directions. 

“How are you?” Sadie asked. You thought about your day for a moment, how light and at ease you felt. 

“I’m good,” you answered honestly, “It’s been a really great day.” 

“I heard Bradley tell Natasha that you got that new job you were vying for - congratulations! You deserve it.” 

You felt the excitement hit you all over again at her words, and you knew your smile must look ridiculous at this point as you thanked her. 

“I’m glad to finally have something else, you know? This new place genuinely seems great, and it comes with a lot of opportunity.”

“Better than the toxic mess you’re at now?” 

You snorted, and it said a lot that not even the mention of your current job brought down your mood. Instead you tilted the freshly refilled glass in your hand in her direction. She set a hand on your wrist for a moment, and you could sense by the look in her eye that she was going to bring up something else about that situation before she even spoke. 

“Paul was successfully served his papers about you petitioning for a restraining order,” she told you, and you felt your breath hitch. She heard it too and shook her head. “This is a good thing. It means we’re one step closer to stopping him for good. That’s something to celebrate, too.”

You considered her words for a moment, and you weren’t sure if it was the drinks or just the energy of the night, but you found that part of you actually agreed with her. The mention of his name didn’t immediately make you feel like you were going to spiral, or stir up the same helpless feelings it normally did. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel much of anything at all. You were indifferent in a way that you hadn’t been before. So when Penny slid Sadie her own new drink, you raised your glass to hers, and you toasted to getting this whole thing over with. 

Not too much later, you wandered out through the side doors. It was getting hot inside the bar, and the cool night air was blissfully refreshing against your skin. It was surprisingly empty out on the deck, and you appreciated the solitude as you leant against the railing, looking out at the ocean. It was dark, but you could see the dark water and hear it crashing in the distance. You could still hear all the chatter and the juke box from inside the bar floating out, but it was muted, a reminder of where you were while still allowing you the peace and quiet. 

The door opened behind you a minute later, and a smile tugged at your lips as Bradley’s deep, raspy voice filled your ears, alerting you to his presence.

“Hey, you. What are you doing out here?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind once he made it to where you were standing. A content noise escaped your throat as you settled back into his chest and laid your own hands over his at your waist. “You doin’ okay?” 

“I’m good,” you promised, “Just wanted some air. Was getting hot in there with all of those people.” 

You knew he’d know enough to guess that meant it was both the physical temperature, as well as your tendency to need a break from large crowds. It got too much for you sometimes, and on occasion, you just needed a few minutes by yourself to recenter and finish out the night. He hummed in response, and you knew he understood. 

You stood there together for a few long moments, not saying anything. You weren’t sure if it was a conscious movement, but he swayed your bodies slightly to the music floating out from inside the bar, some oldies tune that you weren’t sure the name of but you thought you had heard before - probably with him, no doubt. You relished just being in his arms like this. Eventually, though, he broke the peaceful silence. 

“Sadie told me something earlier,” he said, and you could hear the hesitancy in his voice, like he wasn’t sure if he should have brought it up before. You made a hum of recognition, nodding your head without looking at him. 

“Yeah, she told me too. About the papers.” 

Bradley paused as he seemed to gather what it was he wanted to say, so you continued on before he stressed over it too much, squeezing his forearm. “It’s okay. Surprisingly, I felt nothing when she told me. She said it’s something to celebrate because we’re one step closer to getting all of this over with, and I think I agree with her. That has to count as progress, right?” 

There was a beat of quiet as your words hung in the air before Bradley murmured your name softly. “Look at me?” he asked. 

At his request, you turned to face him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and toyed with the hair on the back of his head like you loved to do. He looked at you with a soft smile, his eyes shining.

“I’m really proud of you, you know that?” he spoke gently, tucking some of your hair behind your ear and trailing his finger down your face. You could feel the heat of affection creep up at his words. You weren’t really sure how to respond. His pride meant a lot to you. Truthfully, everything he did meant a lot. He had always been there for you, even that first night when he had no idea what was going on. He was unwavering in his support and you knew you would be in a completely different situation right now if he wasn’t by your side. You needed him, more than you ever thought possible. 

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol lowering your inhibitions or the emotions hitting you all of a sudden, or maybe a combination of both, but you found yourself feeling bold, craving him in a way that made your heart race.

"Bradley," you whispered, almost like you wanted to share a secret with him. "Can I tell you something?" 

"You can tell me anything," he replied, one hand slipping down your back and into the back pocket of your jeans as the other stayed on your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly. 

"I love you so much," you said, feeling the words spill out of your mouth without thinking.

Bradley's smile grew wider, pink dusting his cheeks.  "I love you too, Bug. More than anything."

Feeling emboldened by his words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly became more passionate as the heat between you intensified. You couldn't get enough of him, and it seemed like he felt the same way. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer before he backed the both of you up into the railing behind you. You moaned into his mouth, feeling your body react. It was like your nerve endings were on fire. 

He pulled away, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he looked down at you. His brown eyes were darkened with what was so blatantly desire, and you loved that he didn’t try to shy away from it. 

“Bug…” 

“I think I’d like to go home now,” you told him, your mind already made up. You pressed kisses into his jaw and down his neck as he groaned into the open night air. 

“Yeah,” he rasped, squeezing your butt through your pants before lifting you into his arms. You squealed as your legs wrapped around his waist and he started toward the parking lot. You didn’t even think about needing to go and say goodbye to all of your friends. “Home sounds like a good idea.” 

___

You weren’t slated to start at your new job until the following month, but Bradley convinced you that it wasn’t worth having any ties to the company that had caused all of the strife currently in your life for any longer. Your PTO was going to run out in the middle of the following week, and it was decided that you wouldn’t be going back at all. Not submitting a full two week notice was normally something that would make you feel guilty, but after the way they all treated you, you found you didn’t care all that much about how they would react. They were lucky you were going to do it in person to begin with. 

“I still think you should just send an email,” Bradley told you, his voice ringing through your car’s bluetooth as you drove toward your soon to be old office. It was late on a Wednesday afternoon, so traffic was light. 

“Dropping off my laptop and badge in person means I cut ties quicker,” you rebutted, just like you had done since you told him your plan. You had logged onto your work email last night just to put a meeting on Gretchen’s calendar for this afternoon, for the sole purpose of handing in your things and telling her you quit in person. You got a shot of amusement at imagining what her face was going to look like when you did. 

Bradley had wanted to accompany you for all of it, had hated the idea of you going to the office without him, in fact, but he hadn’t been able to slip away from his own work. He had tried to get you to wait until the next day, but you were stubborn. You wanted to get this over with. 

Bradley sighed on the other end, and you knew that was his concession. “Call me when you’re done?” 

“Of course, B.” 

Nerves twisted in your stomach as you made your way inside the building and pressed the button for the correct floor in the elevator. You took a deep, slow breath when the doors shut, trying to calm your beating heart. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you supposed it was normal. 

“You can do this,” you whispered to yourself. You cracked your neck and pushed your shoulders back when the elevator doors slid open, revealing the lobby you had become familiar with for the last year. You walked down the hallway with purpose, and you could feel stares as you did. You knew the majority of your team - Paul included - were in a meeting right now, based on the shared calendars you had taken a look at. But that didn’t mean others wouldn’t look just as hard. You knocked on Gretchen’s door with a firm fist, and she had barely started saying “come in” when you were twisting the knob and opening the door. 

She sat behind her desk, her blonde hair as pinstraight as always, and a perfectly manicured nail tapped against her crossed arms. A single eyebrow was raised, and her face just screamed condescension. Any guilt you may have harbored left you as soon as you saw her, and you set your laptop and your badge on her desk with a clank. 

“I quit.” 

The unpleasant, sour look that Gretchen’s face twisted into stayed with you as you made your way from her office and over to HR, and then all the way back to the elevator, too. You were practically floating at how satisfied you felt. You were so proud of yourself, and so damn relieved for finally being done with this place. You had said your peace and then some, and now you were done. It was a long overdue feeling. 

You pulled your phone out once you were in the elevator, and your grin was so persistently large that you thought it’d get stuck there. Bradley picked up almost immediately, and you were sure he had been waiting for your call. 

“How’d it go?” 

“Gretchen looked like a Warhead got stuck in her throat, and I have never felt so satisfied about causing those feelings in someone.” 

Your boyfriend barked out a laugh on the other end, and the sound just made you smile wider. “She deserves it. I’m proud of you, baby.” 

You didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing his praise. It caused a warmth to spread through your whole entire body, and you were already ready to be back in his presence again. You got your keys out of your bag as you walked out of the building and into the parking lot. “Thanks, B. Are you still meeting me at the house?” 

That had been the other part of your plan today. You were going to kill two birds with one stone and go to the house and pack up more of your stuff, as the end of your lease was rapidly approaching. Since he hadn’t been able to come with you, instead, you had agreed that he would meet you at the house after you left the office to help. You knew, also, that he didn’t like the idea of you being there on your own. Truthfully, you didn’t either, so you were glad for his insistence. 

“I’m packing up to leave and head in that direction in the next five minutes.” 

“Alright. I’m going to go to the store and grab some boxes and tape and stuff, and then I’ll head that way. You might beat me there.” 

“That’s fine,” he assured you, and with how quick he said it, you were sure that was actually his preference. You felt yourself soften a little bit. You knew he hated not being with you right now.

“I’ll text you when I leave the store,” you promised him as you unlocked your car. “Hey, B?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

You pulled out of the parking lot once you had hung up with him, and you were so focused on the elation you had been feeling and what you needed to do that night, that you hadn’t even seen who else had been in the parking lot with you. 

___

You didn’t spend any more time than necessary in the store, simply running in and grabbing what you needed. Your trunk and backseat were full of boxes and packing supplies, and you shot a text off to Bradley as you had promised once you slid into the front seat. He called you when you were pulling into the neighborhood. 

“There was an accident or something on the freeway,” he told you, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. “Traffic’s backed up, so I’m still like 15 minutes out.” 

“No worries,” you reassured him, “I’m almost there. I can get started.” 

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and Bradley sounded hesitant when he finally spoke again. “Bug…wait for me to go inside, please.” 

“B…” 

He must have heard the argument in your voice, because he was quick to continue, the words rushing out. “I know I’m probably just being paranoid and overprotective. But humor me, please? Just wait for me. I should be there soon.” 

You pulled into the driveway that wouldn’t be yours for much longer and put the car in park. You knew where he was coming from. Truly, you did. You knew that he had every right to feel that way, and you felt warm at him wanting to protect you. 

Bradley let out a sigh of relief when you finally murmured your agreement to stay put. “Thank you, baby. I’ll be there soon okay? I love you.” 

“I love you too. See you in a few.” 

You hung up the phone and rested your head back against the seat, figuring you might as well get comfortable. You scrolled through your social media aimlessly for a few minutes, but the longer you sat there, the more restless you became. You were eager to get inside and start packing. The quicker you did that, the quicker you would be able to get out of this place for good. A quick glance at your clock said that it was nearing 5pm now, and you knew that there was always a team meeting at this time that Paul would be in. There was no chance. 

From when you hung up with him, you figured Bradley would be there in five, ten minutes, tops. 

It would be fine. 

With that in mind, you grabbed your keys and got out of the car. You grabbed some of the boxes from the trunk and made your way to the front door. You felt the familiar anxiety settle over you as you fumbled with the lock, but you figured it was normal - expected, really, all things considered. 

It would be fine. 

It was quiet when you walked inside. The air felt almost stale inside, stifling, and there was a weird smell that made your nose scrunch. The eerie quiet sent a shiver down your spine. The first order of business would be hooking your phone up to the bluetooth speaker to surround you with noise instead of this, and maybe lighting a candle. 

You dropped your keys into the bowl at the door and set the boxes down against the back of the couch. You had only taken a few steps in when you stopped in your tracks. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, and it felt like your heart stopped before it started beating again at a rapid pace. 

Your kitchen counter was littered with flowers. Many of them were dead, stems bent and empty, the petals having wilted and fallen from them, the water inside of the vases murky and old. Some were in a weird inbetween stage, a few petals missing but hanging onto some color. And there, front and center, was the biggest vase out of the bunch. The followers were clearly fresh, so much so that you could almost smell them, if it weren’t for the sour odor of the old ones. Your brain itched with recognition, and you let out a shaky breath when you realized this bouquet was identical to the ones Bradley had delivered to your office months ago, when you first got back together. Identical to the ones that Paul had then gotten you the next day. 

There was a folded piece of paper leaning against that vase with your name scrawled across it. Alarm bells were ringing in your head, but you swallowed thickly and took slow, tentative steps.  When you got close enough, you could see how there were insects crawling amongst the dead arrangements covering your counter. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the note. 

You let out a sound that you could only describe as horrified when you read the words. 

Welcome home - I’ve been waiting for you. 

You stumbled over your own feet as you took startled steps back.Your vision blurred with tears and panic was settled so heavily on your chest that you couldn’t breathe. You needed to leave. You needed to go back out the door you just came through and wait for Bradley. You had to get away. You needed to get out. 

You whipped around, ready to run for the front door, but you didn’t even get a step in before a scream ripped from your throat. 

“You’re finally here.” 

Paul was standing right there in front of you, between you and the front door.  

You were hit with a gut wrenching, terrifying, twisted and sinking realization that you were alone with him. 

You were alone with him, and you had nowhere to go. 

------------------

Part Thirteen :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: YIKES, BUG!! WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO INSIDE?! Sorry for the wait on this one, and for being so delayed with responses to the previous part! Life is lifeing, folks. We're almost at the end! Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

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[reesespeanutbutterfuck]

(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 9

part 8 | part 10

pairing: vinny hong x reader

cw: fem!reader, jo!reader, second person's pov (you, you're, your), violence AGAIN, wb main story SPOILERS

—

Everyone looked at you with questioning looks. When you glared at Dom, he immediately folded and hid behind Jay.

Your hands were itching to tear the bandaid he has under his nose, hoping to rip the skin. Whatever, anything that'll hurt him will be fine. Why does he even wear a band-aid there? It’s so noticeable. You doubt there’s a wound under, because he’s wearing it for too long and the wound would’ve healed already, you’d be happy to give him one though. Perhaps a scar? Mustache?

“Oh, it's true you and Vinny do know each other beforehand?” Yuna wondered, completely oblivious to the fact that you shouldn’t know you and Vinny were being talked about behind your backs. You snickered. As you thought then, they would already be gossiping about you and Vinny. Whatever. You expected it, anyway.

You looked for an alibi to hide it. You got this, you’re a pro at lying, especially to your parents. But Vinny beat you to it.

“No.” Vinny quickly handed you your glasses, turned his back and went back to his bike. He gave a short answer, but you were glad nonetheless because he read the room how speculations about you two make you uncomfortable. You’re sure he feels the same way. 

Well, this is awkward.

“Sister-in-law, you’ll be going to school to pass your resignation letter as the Vice, right? Can you accompany Vinny to pass this waiver to the Principal too?” Shelly inquired.

“What?!” Vinny’s face crumpled when he heard what she said. Perhaps he wasn’t briefed about his task prior too.

“What?” Shelly snarkily raised her brows and clapped back to him as if asking if he had any problem with what she had just said, standing up to him.

“Tsk. Pick someone else to do it. I’ll be late for my part time job.” Vinny scowled at her.

“We all have tasks. June is taking Dom and I to Heri to get all of our bikes for gear double-checks and adjustments, Shelly and Jay are in charge of turning in Hummingbird’s registration paper to the League of Street application booth.” Minu joined the conversation from behind to second Shelly.

Vinny eyed them both, “My bike doesn’t need adjustments.”

“Besides, you two are going in the same direction, so why not let her accompany you? The guard doesn’t let outsiders in, but if you come in with her, they’ll let you in for sure.”

You were about to object too, when Jay interjected, “I’ll go with [Y/N]. Shelly and Vinny can go together to pass the registration form to the booth.”

Out of your line of vision, Vinny suspectingly squinted his eyes slightly at you and Jay after what he heard. Meanwhile, Shelly quietly called your name from the side and closed the distance. She holds your elbow, her lips inches from your ear while making sure no one else hears whatever she has to say.

“Please, go with Vinny. I want to spend time alone with Jay. Would you do me this favor, my great sister-in-law? I promise I’ll let him go home early and take care of him, I’d even walk him home to your house myself.” 

You really have mixed feelings about this girl. From how he clings to Jay, you don't know if she's just fooling around or she's genuine. You were fine around her, because she’s a lot of things but at the very least, she’s not fake. Still, you only speak to her when she speaks to you.

You sighed. “I need to know if Jay’s comfortable with that first–”

“Great! She said she’s fine going with Vinny!” Shelly chimed, turned to them, and once again found her place beside Jay, totally telling them the opposite of your answer. Wait, what? “Let’s go! Better hurry up! It’s getting late, the sun is already setting, the League of Street booth might close!”

When Shelly realized you and Vinny weren’t moving, she lightly pushed you two forward, away from them. Vinny avoided her hands, so he was forcefully kept away from his bike to avoid her touch. “I’ll bring your bike over to June and the others, Vinny. So don’t worry. Be safe, you two. Watch over each other!”

You stopped functioning for a while and stared at Shelly’s back from afar. You gave up and walked, you really need to pass this resignation letter today, or else your pending resignation would be discarded. Vinny stopped because of annoyance for a bit, too, so he caught up to your steps a bit later because he was contemplating whether to comply or not, but he was forced to follow and walk behind you, still keeping distance.

“Hey,” Out of your awareness, Minu nudged Jay, when they were out of your earshot, as multiple pairs of eyes including theirs, followed your and Vinny’s figures that were going further away. “My intuition keeps telling me those two already do know each other before. I mean, she lost her glasses and nobody guessed it was because Vinny has it the whole time.”

“Yeah! Just what activity did they do together that required her to take off her glasses? They’ve never even talked to each other—at least based on what we know. What do you think, Jay?” Dom also observed Jay’s reaction and was eager to know what your brother had to say about what they had just witnessed. “Did we make the right decision to make them go together? Shelly should’ve went with Vinny instead.”

Shelly rolled her eyes at Dom. While Jay didn’t reply and didn’t care. Well, truth be told, he does care. Because he too, was curious about you and Vinny’s unknown affiliation. He was being cautious because he knows any reaction from him could be held against you. He looked somewhere else like it’s trivial. After all, it’s none of their business if you two do know each other prior, so he has nothing to say. Even if he does, he wouldn’t expose anything about your personal life without permission.

He got back to minding his own business while Minu and the others could not believe he didn't have anything to say about it. Well, obviously, you weren’t one to disclose everything, and that’s something to keep in mind. So they assumed Jay just wasn’t informed and that’s why he wouldn’t say anything.

—

Meanwhile with you and Vinny, you can feel his stare on your back. You side-eyed him behind you, initiating a conversation. “Do you want to tell me something?” you asked him with a straight face.

Vinny got confused for seconds, his expression implicitly asking “what are you talking about?” and so he spouted the first thing that came to mind. “That text wasn’t me. That was–”

“I know.” there it is again, your cold treatment. Split personality? Vinny already expected this treatment from you, but at least you were passive about the text. Vinny shut his mouth and thought that was the end of the conversation. 

You looked around and ensured no one you knew was around before stopping your tracks until he catches up to your footsteps. You looked back at him. 

“You walk so slow. Walk beside me.” 

Vinny’s shoulder slightly hunched up and his upper body backed away a little from your direction, but his frown was still there, only getting bigger because your suddenness startled him. He didn't comply.

“You decided to join Hummingbird. Good for you.” you raised one side of your lip to grin when he caught up to where you stopped walking, you started walking beside him instead of leading in front.

He’s tall. You didn’t have to be reminded but you still were. You measured him with your eyes. This is the first time you walked alongside him. You were already tall yourself, but he was tall-tall.

“You’re moody.” he side-eyed you, acknowledging the sudden change in your demeanor.

“I’m self aware. How’s your experience with the crew?”

His brows furrowed, refusing to answer you. But you had more to say.

“They’re noisy aren’t they? I’d know. It irritates me too, I don’t like loud noises. But they’re not so bad as teammates. Some of them are bearable, at the very least.”

“Really. Like Jay?”

There was something underlying in the tone of his question, you couldn’t put a finger to what it was but it doesn’t matter. It’s true indeed that Jay is the most bearable because he’s actually sensitive enough to know when to shut up.

“Yeah, Jay’s indeed the most sufferable out of them. How’d you know?”

“Whatever.”

“I wanted to kill you when I found out you’re the one that got him suspended. Be thankful I didn’t.”

Oh. He thought. It’s only natural you do if his conclusion about you and Jay’s relationship were right. Who wouldn’t be protective over a lover?

“Touché.”

“As I was saying, they’re good teammates without all the noisiness and nosiness. But teammates don’t always have to be friends. So it’s your choice whether you want them to stay as teammates or you want them to be friends. Don’t feel pressured.”

“Alright, I get it, okay?” He puts both his hands inside his pocket.

It was as if you were a different person. Gone was the reserved stance and cold tone. Now you're the sarcastic, snarky girl with somewhat a little bit of anger issues, again.

“My turn. Do you have another personality that magically switches off?” his lips twisted as he questioned. He was a little relieved even so, at least this proves once again that the one he spoke to in the emergency room wasn’t your evil twin.

“I might.” you sarcastically replied with a shrug. “Hey, walk faster, grouch. I need to pass this stupid resignation letter within today.”

Vinny looked somewhere else, completely ignoring you. Grouch. You looked at his face but your eyes went higher because his hair caught your attention more. It’s brushed up and disheveled, completely showing his forehead. You contained a laugh. He looks like he's been electrocuted. Vinny tried not to show how conscious he’s getting because of your stares and kept his eyes on the road, which is why he couldn’t avoid your hand unexpectedly flying on his hair.

“Why do you brush your hair up? You look like a thug even more than when it’s down. It looks good but only in certain looks.” 

You brushed his hair down with your fingers. It’s still soft. When you touched it, you noticed how it wasn’t even pushed back with gel or pomade. It just sits like that. That’s cool.

Vinny’s eyes widened like saucers and jolted from your touch, “Quit it!” swatting your hand away yet not in a force that would hurt your hand for real. His mouth scrunched, God, help me.

“Brush it down. It makes you look a lot better.” you put your hand down, leaving his own hands fixing his hair. “We’re here.” you entered the gates of Sunny High.

You spoke to the guard about your unauthorized company. Vinny waited outside and watched you talk to the guard, which thankfully didn’t take long because you gestured him to come inside not long after. The guard’s only condition was you should leave with him as you came in with him.

“Go, make it fast. The Principal’s office is down that hall. You go do what you need to do, introduce yourself to him before anything. After I pass my resignation letter downstairs, I’ll meet you back at the gate.”

Vinny wordlessly went to the hall you pointed and you went downstairs to the council office. The council adviser was nowhere to be found, so you just left the letter on his desk. You made your way outside the building and waited for Vinny, who you assume was done doing what he has to do, too. You crossed your arms while waiting.

“Who’s the young man you’re with, Miss Jo?” one of the guards queried from his spot. “Your friend?”

“Nope, a friend of Minu’s. They all had tasks and his’ was something to be done here. He’s unfamiliar with the school so I accompanied him. Everything is fine. You don’t have to tell my mom.” you answered without turning your head to him.

Now, where’s Vinny? You need to leave now before the guard assumes anything more and exposes you to your mother. She asked the guards here to keep a close eye on you. Besides, you still have to grab some takeout to eat for dinner. When you got a glimpse of red hair you waited until he was near you before bidding the nosy guard goodbye.

“Where ‘you going after?” You asked him while looking at the side of his face. It was easy staring at it because you were also tall.

“My part time job.” he has his hands in his pockets while walking.

“What about your bike?” 

“They texted me and told me they’ll bring it back to my house tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.”

Vinny avoided looking at you but his own head betrayed him when he turned to you. “Are you following me?”

“Excuse you, thick-skull? I’m not following you, I’m going to find something to eat for dinner.” You scanned the streets. It’s really getting dark now a little more before the night sky. “Let’s take this shortcut over here.”

“You really like putting your life at risk in ominous alleys, don’t you?”

“Come on, let’s go through there.”

“No.” He continued walking in the common direction. “I don’t trust the decisions of that of someone with split-personalities.”

You gaped your mouth in disbelief. “Are you insulting me? Come on, let’s fight here right now, I can take you–” You almost bumped on his back when he stopped. You were about to kick the back of his leg to make him continue walking but a man’s voice interrupted you.

“Well, well, look who we have here. Want a rematch for the last time?” The man caught a glimpse of someone else behind Vinny so he tilted his head to look at you better. “And he’s brought reinforcement too!”

Agh. Not again.

“Who's the chick, Vinny? Someone you picked up from the streets?” Another man from behind you and Vinny approached you, he raised his hand to touch your face with his filthy hand.

You swatted his hand away before it could come in contact anywhere. “Get your hand off of me, moron.”

“Feisty.” he chuckled. “Hey, you look familiar.” he squinted to recall who you were, meanwhile Vinny who’s now beside you looked clueless. “You, you’re–!”

Before he can say anything, you palmed his chin with force, so he accidentally bit his own tongue. And then you heard a thud. Vinny also took down one of the guys, taking the way you snapped as a signal for him to act too. Before the guy in front of you can recover from how you palmed his face, you punched his nose. 

“Let’s go!” You and Vinny ran together in the same direction. They all ran to follow you, there were like five or six in number right now and they’re all after you and Vinny.

“Vinny! Vinny Hong!” You heard their rushed footsteps chasing after you and Vinny. 

“Why do I always end up in trouble whenever we meet? ‘You some kind of trouble magnet?!” your voice trembled talking while running.

“You’re one to talk!” Vinny retorted.

Until you realized you were doomed when you ran into a closed corner. Shit, dead end!

“Get them!” 

When he heard, Vinny instinctively put himself in front of you. 

“Move! I can handle myself!” you held his arm. When the men dashed toward you two to attack, you pushed his arm away and ran toward the men too.

You both faced the men heads-on instead of trying to find an escape. In the corner of your eye, a man with a knife spawned behind Vinny with so you kicked him with force to lurch him away to the nearest wall to prevent him from being stabbed again.

“Didn’t mean to do that, he was about to stab you!” You cannot stitch him again if he gets stabbed again. Hell, you’d end up in jail if you do it the second time.

When you were done with the men, leaving some knocked unconscious and some running away for their lives, you and Vinny panted together. You had scratches and a long slit by the knife on your arm, but it’ll be easy to hide with a jacket. Vinny got a busted lip and scratches on his face. His bruises weren't showing yet but you were sure later on it will.

“Hope you didn’t get stabbed this time. I don’t have suturing tools with me.”

Vinny leered at you in the middle of panting and shook his head in disbelief. You looked at your bleeding arm. People on streets would stare at you if you and Vinny walked the streets looking like this.

“Do you have a first aid kit at your house?” You held your bleeding arm. Your legs were sore, damn did these guys go hard on your legs. 

Vinny got shook once again. “No. We’re not going to my house.”

“Okay.” as expected. You kicked one of your attackers one last time to see if they’re really unconscious, before you turned your back to Vinny and started limping your way toward the opening of the closed alley.

“Where are you going?” he followed your limping figure with his eyes. 

“I’m going home.” 

“With your arm bleeding like that?”

“Well, yeah. It’s just a scratch.”

Vinny didn’t talk for a few seconds, like he was thinking deeply about something. Then he also went out the opening of the alley and walked past you. You thought he was going to leave you like that but once again he opened his mouth.

“Come on. My mom has a first aid kit.”

Vinny cannot believe what he would just allow to happen. But he knows he can't just leave you be. Not like that.

You immediately got what he meant. When he started walking, you followed behind him, letting him lead the way to his house.

***

© reesespeanutbutterfuck 2023 don't forget to support your creators by reblogging !!!

[wileys-russo]

i have LOTS of questions so i decided to write them all at once (hope you don’t mind)😭

1. where do they go to their first vacation? i can imagine eli being okay with it but how do ale, alba, mapi and ingrid react? i can imagine alba and mapi being like all calm and like “ahh just let them be young and have fun” and alexia and ingrid all stressed out thinking about everything that could go wrong😭

2. not a question but kind of a question? (and also this is more for @girlgenius1111 but since she is recovering from surgery and you will have free time i decided to write to you) but, I need a fic with fresa is looking after scout. like is this happening when fresa and sol still don’t know each other (and mapi just asks fresa to look after scout for sol)? like when they met while mapi was giving fresa the car tattoo? and is sol still incredibly shy when handing over scout? like when they first met? or are they friends already? or maybe even girlfriends? i NEED to know the tea!!

3. do you know the olive theory? like the one that hates olives and the other that loves them so they take them? (in the end both hate olives) is this applicable to sol and fresa (maybe with other foods)??

4 what is their absolute favorite thing to watch together? and similarly do they show each other some cliché Tv shows in spanish/norwegian? (in my country we have a tv show called family affairs and tbh it’s the cringiest thing i have ever seen, and if i ever have a girlfriend this is the first thing i am going to show her because she NEEDS to experience the cringe of other cultures)

5. who is the one to wake up super early and who is to one to go to sleep at an ungodly hour?

6. another question that very much involves @girlgenius1111 but let’s suppose that sol makes up with her mom and wants to meet with her, how does fresa react? is she super protective? is she supportive? is she a mix of both? does she freak out? is she ready to take out box gloves and beat everyone?

7. once again the opinion of the queen herself @girlgenius1111 is needed but how does sol react to finding out that the relationship between fresa and alexia/alba is very stranded? obviously sol likes alexia but she doesn’t know her on a personal level super well, what does she do when she finds out that it’s not as perfect as it seems? that they may have more in common that she initially thought? the same goes for fresa finding out about sol’s relationship with ingrid, like it’s different but in some ways very similar. i suppose both feel very abandoned? how do they get through that?

ok i have even more questions but i need to stop now or i may yap till the end of the day. anyway sorry for such a long ask. feel free to not answer (if i were you i would just ignore this tbh) or “not answering, find out later” is just as acceptable. whatever you feel like tbh!!!

anyway i love this story that you and k! have created together, you both are very special writers and i VERY much appreciate what you do and write, anyway take care and lots of love🍓☀️❤️ (if anything i have written doesn’t make sense i had a bottle of wine and my first language isn’t english😭)

idk if it counts as a vacation but early on into knowing one another but not yet quite dating they go to madrid together alone for a concert! you are absolutely correct lmao alba and mapi help them get their train tickets and drive them to the station, meanwhile alexia and ingrid are too busy stressing they're too young to go alone and they'll wind up kidnapped or something dramatic

K and I were talking about this literally yesterday and trying to work out a timeline for all the blurb ideas we have for Sol and Fres + how it all ties into filling the void and family line! but yes fresa looks after scout for a week (he comes to stay with her and Eli) when Sol goes to Norway with Ingrid and Mapi, but thats after they've been dating for awhile. the first time Fresa meets Scout its before she even realises she likes Sol, but Sol is shocked at how much Scout seems to love Fresa (aka dog whisperer putellas)

they actually both like pickles on burgers but pretend not to when they think the other doesn't, so neither of them end up eating the pickles despite actually having a mutual love for them (same goes for olives)

mmm i don't know a whole lot about tv shows outside of where i'm from but i imagine both Sol and Fres have a mutual love of trashy reality tv shows. specifically the kardashians and any sort of dating show like love island, too hot to handle etc. they both spend the entire time complaining about how awful the show is but also, never miss an episode. they also love to binge true crime dramas together, and Fresa loves medical programs but she knows she can't watch them around Sol because Sol faints at even the slightest sign of blood

Fresa is a morning person (Alexia's influence) and Sol is a night owl!

Fresa is very cautious how she speaks about Sol and Ingrids mum, obviously she knows whats happened and it breaks her heart that anyone could treat such a perfect human like that. but she also knows theres parts of Sol that still love her mum and Fresa doesn't want to go too hard on the 'your mum is such a piece of shit for treating you like that' train and upset her girlfriend. so she lets Sol take the lead in conversations about her mum and is careful how she responds!

By the time Sol and Fresa start to properly interact its after everything has gone down between Fresa and her sisters and they're well on track back to being as close as they used to be. But when Sol first opens up to Fresa about how she ended up in Spain living with her sister and the strains of their relationship early on in her stay, Fresa opens up about her own struggles with that and they bond over it. Fresa is a lot more forthcoming with information but Sol doesn't trust as easily so it takes a little longer for Fresa to really understand the extent of the struggles in her life when she lived in Norway thank you for all of these they really made me (and K) think!! i know some people might think its stupid to go so in depth about creating a life for a made up character but it really is a fun escape and i love creating Fresa's little universe, and its nice to write about a wholesome queer teenage relationship because they get done so dirty in tv shows most of the time! 🍓🍓 @girlgenius1111

[notallrobots]

@cloudy-osc HI i think your ask about fancyphone disappeared into a void but i wanted to answer it ^_^

i shouldn’t be surprised to find myself drawn to this ship… i’ve wanted to incorporate it into my au for awhile!!! i really like these two confident girls together (in harmony or argument; you must know by now that the ships that i like aren’t usually pure fluff eheh).

disgust, despite her practical application and razor-sharp eye for social politics, is actually a very romantic person (judging by her interest in that guy lance slashblade or flashblade i forget. he’s only important because he aids in disgust’s characterization). even though she can be haughty and stuck-up, she is still the kind of girl to daydream, drawn to the tall and handsome, (sorry fear. you’re handsome but you aren’t all that tall…) and also to complex heroism.

i think that disgust would ascribe that same kind of romanticization to ennui’s laziness - disgust might view ennui as some sort of pure, languorous beauty, her apathy a manifestation of poetic (and thus attractive) unhappiness.

this is not realistic, my darling disgust. ennui in actuality is just a bum, and she is happy to be one (although she is at least standing up a little straighter towards the end of io2). ennui answers questions as briskly and brusquely as possible. ennui takes naps in the middle of work. ennui unabashedly criticizes riley’s uncool friends (and she certainly has the right… ENNUI IS THE ONLY “COOL” CHARACTER IN THE IO FRANCHISE. Everyone else has some form of neuroticism. EHEH). ennui doesn’t brush her hair all that regularly, but it’s still long, silky, and flowing around her shoulders and sweater. ennui the only bilingual in the cast. She’s a part of two worlds. Beautiful. Ennui, i self insert as every character in inside out just to get closer to you.

omg this turned into ennui love poem… uhm.

i don’t view this ship as exactly one-sided, but the romantic endeavor is certainly disgust’s to begin with. only time will tell when it comes to this yuri success…… o_o i have faith. don’t forget that french is the language of love after all :3 And disgust wants to love!! 🩷🩷

take this crummy doodle on the magma for now…

i’m so fancyphone you already know i’m in the fast lane

[leclsrc]

we need need neeed a charles variant of the media naranja fic :( just a multiple lives au even just a drabble or a headcanon auds audrey big a please only u do this shit justice

bec this has been rotting and i needed to practice writing :)

divine sense – cl16

Charles is always led back to you. title from this

“Your mole is nice,” he says, cutting himself off and thinking a bit more on his words. “It sits just there, on the corner of your eye.”

“Really? God.” You poke at it, rub over it even if it sits relatively flat and unassuming and a bit tiny. “I’ve always hated it. People mistake it for leftover eyeliner or mascara all the time, and it’s—whatever.”

“It’s pretty.” His gaze could light you on fire and water it down all at once. “It’s one of the first things I noticed about you. Granted, I thought it was a, uh, how you say? Mascara, yes, that flicked off your eye a bit, but now it’s just there. I like it.”

A slow smile creeps its way onto your lips and you bite it back, to no avail. “Thank you.”

“It’s the reason why you look so familiar to me.” My mole? You ask, your head turning to the side a bit. He nods. “I don’t know why, either. I mean, clearly we didn’t know each other then. But something about you—you’ve always felt familiar, I think.”

“I have?” 

The trees are greener in the spring, but they’re thin still, not yet too thick with leaves that will fade into orange and die and fall. It’s perfect, Charles thinks, because then the sun filters perfectly through the green of them and shines through the blinds and onto your face, smiling tenderly and warm and waiting. Your eyelashes cast a shadow across the rest of your face and he could stare forever.

“You have.”

—

“Did you get mascara on your eye?”

“What? Oh. Fuck, no. This—it’s a mole.” You turn quickly to the mirror. “I know, it looks a bit like it, yeah.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” 

“It’s all good. So, Charles, right?” You reread the application sheet and stretch a hand forward to shake his. “My new roommate… taking up Architecture.”

“Yep.” He smiles proudly, the emblem of your university front and centre on his sweatshirt. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but have I met you before? You just look a little familiar. Mole and all.”

“Oh.” Instinctively, you reach up to touch the area on which it sits. “I don’t think so, sorry. Um, but in my Lit class, we did have a discussion about how… like… moles are places where you were kissed in your past life.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah.” You smile up at him. The fall breeze filters through the open living room window, blowing tendrils of hair over your face that you’re quick to brush away. “Granted, I don’t know who would want to kiss an area like this.”

“You don’t?”

And maybe you’re a bit loopy from the drive, or hungry from waking up early, or maybe not at all. Maybe Charles the college roommate is messing with you, or maybe pulling a prank, or maybe not at all. The sunset today is beginning to tint the room and his pretty face a muted orange and you could stare forever.

“I don’t.”

—

Your first time in Italy is marked by a series of ugly firsts: first catcall, mistranslation, scam, blistered heel. But you make it, despite it all, to your foster family’s farm estate, all old vine-caked buildings and stables and lemon trees. You spot somebody poking their head out of the upstairs window but the mop of hair disappears just as quickly.

The door is answered by Pascale—the one you’d been corresponding with prior to today. With her is her husband, Hervé, and two sons, one of whom is somewhere in the house getting your room tidy, she says apologetically. You’re quick to quell her apology, sated by the ice water and bowl of fruit (Hervé says something about picking them all out himself; Arthur, the younger one, pulls you aside with a boyish smile and says it was actually him.)

“Lorenzo is off at university for summer classes,” Pascale explains when she’s putting the second spoonful of pasta on your plate. “So I am stuck with Arthur here, and Charles. He’s about your age, yes? Twenty-two in October.”

Charles descends into the kitchen talking in rapid Italian to his mom, that only tapers off when he sees you at the table. You smile, dopey, raising a careful hand to wave.

He stares. 

“Vieni a sederti,” Pascale says, pointing to the empty seat beside you. Shyly, he takes a seat and fills up his glass with water—then yours. 

“Oh,” you say. “Thank you.” Your gaze travels to him, and find he’s already looking—at the corner of your eye.

“It’s a mole,” you clarify with a quiet, pretty laugh. “Are you excited to take me around? Pascale says you’re my tour guide.”

“Sure, sure.” He laughs. “Where do you want to go?”

Hervé has played some Italian music on his vinyl, so it’s what scratchily plays through the dining area, accompanied by the scent of garlic and lemon and olive from the trees outside, blowing a gentle breeze through the archway of the house.

You turn away from his green eyes to answer one of Arthur’s questions, peppering chili flakes over your aglio olio to twirl and deposit into your mouth. One red flake stays on your lip and he imagines swiping it off with his thumb. Your eyes meet his again, gaze amused and gentle and Charles could stare forever.

“Anywhere, really.”

—

“Oh, honey,” you whine playfully, letting your husband crowd you against the counter of your kitchen, peppering kisses all over your face. “Missed me that much?”

“You know I did.” He parts from you, and even if he's taller his gaze seems to convey looking up at you, adoration and love crowding his green eyes. A hand caresses your jaw, cheek; his thumb rubs over the corner of your eye. The blank skin there, unmarked, unblemished.

He kisses it. His favorite spot. “I woke up this morning thinking about you,” he says fondly.

“About how I left you in charge of changing Mila while I slept in?” You tease lowly, forehead pressed to his.

“About how in love I am with you,” he says honestly. Your heart pulses. It was never a whirlwind of love for either of you. It was slow, warm, familiar. Hey, you.

Despite that, he means it, you know he does, he’s never failed to show just how much. When he wakes up early to change Mila, or when he takes charge of the stove when you’re sleepy. When he lets you walk him around the winding avenues of Manhattan to get cookies or a good coffee or a better beer. When he watches you sing karaoke tipsily, Billy Joel or The Smiths. The way he memorizes every part of you, the way he knows you. Any and all of the love Charles ever had and ever felt always answered to you. 

Lips meet the corner of your eye again. “You know that? I love you. You changed me. You know that, right?”

You could stay forever, in the dusk of the city, questions suspended in the air to be lovingly answered in the lifetimes to follow. They will come, though. You can stay for now—you’ve done your waiting for a love like this.

You smile. “Right.”

[whatsa-bi-as]

first time

GN!reader x Haku Shota (Soul)

song; first time - Hozier

plot; a young couple talks about whether it would be worth trying again to make a relationship work

genre; angst

warning; none - let me know if I've missed any

word count; 1.4K

networks; @kflixnet and @k-labels

proofread; by the wonderful @gyumibear go check them out they've been a lot of help!!

a/n; I'm thinking of doing some stuff inspired by songs and this was kind of a test run :)

masterlist is here

“Do you think that this could have worked? You and me?”

It was a risky question, but one you hadn’t been able to get out of your head for weeks. It was eating you up inside, and if you didn’t ask it now, you probably never would. The silence that followed filled the air around the both of you and it was deafening.

“I don’t know. I mean, we tried. We tried twice, and Keeho always says 'third times the charm'. So maybe we would, maybe we wouldn’t.”

This was your ex-boyfriend, but your first love. This was the boy you had loved with all your heart, the boy you had watched grow into who he is now, the boy you had always supported with everything you could give.

“One of my mates tells me about this philosophical idea she read about. She thinks it’s just to make people have hope that things could have turned out differently. It’s the idea that there are different versions of people in different universes. ”

He smiled, but he didn’t say anything. He just let you keep talking and listened to you, like he always had, whether you were together or not.

“Which means that in one universe there's a version of us that never met, in another you were always my best friend but nothing more, and in some far off universe it worked out the first time. We never had to wonder if it would work because we… we knew we’d be together forever.”

“So we’re in the one where we tried, but it never happened.”

“Pretty much, yeah. That sucks, doesn’t it. Out of all the universes to be in, we got this one.”

He took a second to think about it. The idea of alternate universes was a lot to take in, especially when it was randomly presented to you late on a Wednesday night.

“What do you think we’re like in that last universe, the one where we never broke up? Do you think we call each other every night and put our beds together in Minecraft?”

You couldn’t quite tell if he was joking or not, but that was typical of him, always trying to make you laugh, even in the middle of a semi-serious conversation. Once he told you that he did that because he thought your smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and deep down you still hoped that was the case.

“I like to imagine that we’re planning our future. I’m stressed about university applications and you're telling me to relax, that I’ll be fine. We’re also bickering over what colour the rug should be in the living room because you think it's the perfect shade, but I am convinced that it’s too dark for the colour palette we chose.”

“If we would bicker over anything, it would be over what mugs we have on the side and which ones go in the cupboard. You want the ones we use everyday to be on display and I think that glass ones would go better with the decor."

You could picture that argument, and try as hard as you might that one did make you laugh.

“That's the only right answer! It’s not only practical, but a house isn’t a home unless you add some personality to it, and what better way to do that than with mugs!”

“I guess one thing that doesn’t change between that universe and this one is that I know you better than you know yourself.”

The wind was not the only thing that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the fact that he was right, this boy could read you like a book, you didn’t have to say anything for him to know that you were upset, or happy, or stressed, just anything. He always knew exactly what to say or do, and although you used to love that about him, now it just leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

“It's way too cold for us to be out this late.” He stood up and held out a hand to help you up. “Let’s get you home.”

“Do we have to go just yet?”

This night felt perfect. It was like a bubble had formed over the two of you, blocking out any fear and anxiety, but you knew that the moment you walked through your front door, you’d have to deal with all of it.

“You hate the cold. I’m honestly surprised you’ve lasted this long without complaining.”

You just looked up at him silently pleading for him to say no. For him to sit next to you again.

“We can walk slowly, but it’s late, it’s dark and it’s cold, so I’m walking you home whether you like it or not. And I’m not taking no for an answer, so..."

This was a situation you’ve been in before. He's not going to give in. You wouldn’t either if it was the other way around, so you take a deep breath and take his hand. The feeling sends a sense of nostalgia and hope deep into your soul. There's something about holding his hand that just feels right, like it was made to fit in yours.

The walk starts off in silence, the previous conversation soaking in like winter rain into a jumper. It was comfortable but as you got closer to your house and the seconds began to tick away, there was so much that you had to say, but so little time.

Passing the bench where you spent plenty of late nights when you first started dating you just let it out. All the things you'd been meaning to say over the last few years came out all at once.

“I did love you, you know. Sometimes it's hard for me to realise that I love people because in some ways it just comes so naturally. I know I love my family and my friends, because I mean that's a given, but when it comes to like, romantic love, that's a bit harder to realise. I don’t think I truly realised I loved you until I knew it would never be the same again. You’d never put your arm around me while we talk to our friends, you'd never pick me up for late night snack runs, or send me stupid pictures when I’m having a bad day, and I really, really miss that. I miss you.”

“You love me?”

“I did.”

“Do you still love me?”

“I think a part of me always will. You were my first love. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you completely.”

“You were my first love too.”

You had reached your front door. The night was over. You had said everything you wanted to say, so nothing should really stop you back from going inside. You weren’t together, in theory you owed him nothing.

In reality, this boy was the first one to hold your heart in his hands and try his hardest not to let it break. He was your first love and it felt impossible to leave him. His hand in yours warmed your heart more than any blanket ever could. It just felt right to be with him, but you had to leave. This doesn’t work and as painful as it is, you just have to admit it. It would be for the best if you could find the strength to turn away.

Instead, you just look at him, admiring how his eyes shine like the stars, how he’s so young but already has laugh lines, and he doesn’t care because it means he’s lived a happy life. He was perfect, and the fact that it wasn’t meant to be broke your heart into smaller and smaller pieces every time you thought about it.

He was the one who broke the silence first.

“Can I kiss you? One last time to say goodbye?”

“Yes. Yes, you can.”

Breaking apart neither of you really knew what to say. You were both so different from the people you were when you first met, but the moment after you broke away it was as if nothing had changed. You were back to being those nervous kids again, whose cheeks got warm every time you held hands because it was all so new.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Shota.”

[tlouxx]

Electromagnetism - p.4

~ ellie williams x reader

——————————————————————————

part three | part five <3

synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you're a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college

content: college!ellie, mean!ellie, modern au, academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, the next chapter will pick up right where this ends ;), lots of tension, ellie being flirtatious, reader and ellie finally kiss hehe

taglist: @gold-dustwomxn @skylerwhitwyo @blueberryhalfblood @elliebobellysosmelly @444na0m1 @bellswlw @mikasasbabygirl

——————————————————————————

Day 58

PHYS 208: Intermediate Electromagnetism

I haven’t spoken to Ellie since that night. Although, I can’t entirely avoid her since we have class and work together. I know Ellie and I don’t see eye to eye, but I would never ask this of her. I’ve been keeping my head down, doing my work, dodging Ellie’s attempts to talk to me. Dina thinks it might’ve been a joke since Ellie and I were already fighting, but she wasn’t there. Ellie was serious. The way she looked at me when she said it. She was desperate. The application for Dr. Ramsey’s lab is due in two weeks. I’ve actually contemplated not applying, but I’ve worked too hard to not do this. 

…

I’m dreading walking into another class and having to endure more time spent with her. I sit at the back of my room and rest my head on the desk. I’ve been neglecting sleep lately in order to keep up with school work. I only raise my head when I hear my professor speak. 

“Since midterms are quickly approaching, I have made study groups for you all.” I internally groan. 

“You will make a study guide for the midterm and submit it to me. The group assignments will be on my desk after class.” 

My foot anxiously taps against the floor. I was hoping the professor might let us out early. My eyes can’t stop catching the time, but it doesn’t seem to go any faster. When her powerpoint comes to an end, she reminds us to check our study group assignment. 

Ellie cuts in front of me in line. I know she wants a reaction out of me, but I’m not giving her what she wants. She reads the paper on the desk in front of her. I try to make out what it says, before I can she faces me.  “Well, would you look at that? We’re partners.”

… 

“I don’t want to work with Ellie.”

“And why is that?” My professor closes her laptop. I struggle to gather the words to describe years of my relationship with Ellie leading up to this. 

“We.. We uh just don't get along.” I rub the back of my neck feeling awkward having to ask this. I don’t feel ready to confront Ellie just yet.

“It’s just one assignment. I’m sure you’ll both find a way to make it work.”

I try to protest one more time. She scoots me out of her office with that as her final answer. Maybe she’s right. It’s just one assignment. I’ve avoided her for a month.

I don't think I can avoid her anymore.

2:57 P.M

Well, when do you want to work on this?

E: My place after class?

Sure. 

E: It’s a date ;)

…

“So.. How do you think it’ll go tonight?” Dina sits on my bed writing a paper for her class. I haven’t been able to gather the courage to walk to Ellie’s apartment quite yet. 

“Hopefully quick. It’s not like both of us aren't capable.” 

“Why don’t you ask her about it.” 

I honestly don’t know why I haven’t just asked why she doesn’t want me to apply. On some level, it feels like a betrayal. Yes, we compete with each other. Yes, we fight. But this could be life-changing for me or for Ellie. I have to at least try to do this.

“I don’t know. I’m scared of what she’ll say. We both know how important this could be for a career in physics, research, academia. I find it hard to believe she’d want me to flat out not apply.” 

“Even if you don’t want to hear her answer, I think you deserve to know. Maybe she has a good reason.” 

…

I knock on Ellie’s door. The anticipation is killing me as I wait for her to answer. She opens the door. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” I stand there for a few seconds longer twiddling with the ring on my thumb. 

“Come in. I won't bite.” She smirks and pulls the door open wider. I haven’t spoken to her since the last time I was here. Butterflies are swirling around my stomach. I tell myself I’m just nervous to be around her again. I walk in after Ellie and shut the door behind me. She leads me back to her room. 

Her desk is full of textbooks, art supplies, and little trinkets. My hand traces the edge of her books. Her walls are lined with art and her bed is unmade. I had her pinned as more of a type A with a super organized room. I guess we're all full of surprises. 

The silence is permeating the air, and I desperately need to fill it. “Where do you want to start on the outline?” Ellie sits on her bed getting comfortable. 

“You can take chapters 1-3, and I’ll do 4-7.” 

… 

We fall into a more comfortable silence this time. We’ve been working on the assignment with no end in sight. After two and a half hours, I’ve barely scratched the surface of what we need to cover. Ellie flops back on her bed sighing. 

“How far have you gotten? My brain feels fried.” 

“My brain is also fried. I’ve barely gotten through chapter one.” My eyes feel strained from looking at the computer screen for so long. 

“Want to take a break?” She smiles at me, and I nod back at her. 

… 

Ellie leads me out onto the balcony. She planted a couple of snacks in front of us. The familiar scenery brings back the tension of before. Ellie and I sit on the couch together looking up at the dusky sky. Being out here again with Ellie so near to me, I remember the way she shifted her body to lean in closer, I could almost feel the heat of her touch. I remember how her perfume stuck to me for hours afterward and all I could think about was Ellie Williams. God I was pissed at her. I am pissed at her. 

“It’s uh-a nice night out here.” I smile at Ellie not knowing what else to say. The fluttering in my stomach is coming back with a vengeance. 

“I’m glad you’re finally talking to me again.” She sets down her drink and her arm stretches out behind me. I feel the urge to sink into her. 

“I guess I didn’t need to give you the cold shoulder. Sorry about that.” Her fingers lightly stroke up and down my arm. I like her touch more than I thought I would. 

“I understand why you did it. I do have a good reason for asking..” She trails off her sentence and faces me. 

“Okay.” I inch closer to her until only a small gap remains. “I’m listening.”

“I told my interviewer for grad school that I already had the position.” 

“Oh my god, Ellie… Why would you do that?” I raise my voice unintentionally. How could she be so stupid. Now I know why she looked so desperate. If they find out she lied about this they could rescind her offer.

“Because I’m an arrogant piece of shit who underestimated you. It was before the semester started. and then you got a 100 in quantum mechanics…” Her demeanor softens.

“I freaked out. I thought I would get it no problem. Then suddenly you’re around me all the time and- I’m.. uh struggling to get my shit together.” 

Now that I know, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done what Ellie did. I don't know if I forgive her just yet, but I wish I would have listened to her sooner.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what you want me to do Ellie. You know I have to apply.” Ellie reaches out and puts her hand on my knee and her eyes meet mine. 

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. I gotta clean up my mess by myself.” 

… 

Ellie and I head back inside to continue working on the assignment. I go to return to my spot on her rug. 

“You know you’re allowed to sit at my desk or you can sit on the bed with me. We might be working for a while longer.” 

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your space.” 

She scoots over and pats the spot next to her. I gather my laptop off the floor and sit at the edge of her bed. I feel embarrassed about the way I was feeling outside. Leaning into her touch. Yearning for more. It’s just a lapse in judgment. I was just feeling flustered because we haven't really spoken since we fought. At least that's why I think I’m flustered. 

…

We continued working on the assignment in silence for a while. It’s starting to get late, and my eyes are feeling heavier than before. It's 12:03 A.M. when I look over at Ellie. I think she’s starting to feel tired too. Her hair falls in front of her face and she tucks it behind her ear. I blush knowing she just caught me staring at her.  

“Um. I think I might call it a night and go home.” Ellie shuts her laptop and rubs her eyes. 

“You can stay if you want.” She moves over and starts to close the gap between us. The beat in my chest is rapidly intensifying as the space between us lessens. 

“Oh, uh I don’t know if I should.” I could move away from Ellie right now, but I can’t or maybe I don't want to. The force between us feels magnetic like I can’t make myself stay away from her. Her face is lit up softly by the string lights in her room.

“It’s a long walk for you back.” Her hand makes its way onto my thigh. Her calloused fingers make goosebumps prickle up spine. “I was just thinking we could work on it again in the morning. It’d be safer if you stayed here.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay.” 

…

Ellie brings me a pair of pants to change into. I can’t believe I just agreed to spend the night here. “Thanks. Where’s your bathroom?” 

Ellie laughs. “I won’t look. You can change here.” 

“Ellie, c’mon.” She covers her eyes with her hands. Not wanting to protest more, I changed into the pants she gave me.

She hops onto her bed. I’m suddenly unsure if I’m supposed to get into bed with her or not. Maybe I should just sit on the floor. I’d never live it down if I climbed into bed with Ellie Williams when that's not what she was insinuating. This whole situation is confusing me. We haven’t spoken in a month, and now I’m spending the night and wearing her clothes. I hate that I don’t hate this. God, what is wrong with me? 

I can feel Ellie staring at me as I stand still unsure of my next move. “Um, you can sleep in my bed if you want to. I won’t make you sleep on the floor.”  She fumbles her words. This is uncharted territory for both of us. “Obviously, unless that's what you’d prefer I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.” 

I shouldn’t. 

“Seems like you want me to sleep in your bed Ellie. I think you missed me.” 

Ellie pulls me onto her bed with her. She’s stronger than I thought she’d be. Her thinly lined shirt gives way to her muscles underneath. I find myself on top of her staring at her beneath me. Her hands find my hips, but immediately toss me to the side of the bed. 

“Maybe I did miss you. Is that so bad?” 

Ellie wraps her arms around me pulling me in closer. I can’t help but savor her touch. 

“No, It’s not so bad.” 

The desire burns through me clouding my judgment. I shakily grasp Ellie’s hair and pull her in to kiss me. At first soft, terrified she may not want to kiss me back.

Ellie’s hands wander to my hips pulling me against hers leaving no question of her aching for me. Years of pent up desire bursting out all at once. Her touch feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Our bodies pressed together furiously.

She kisses me like she’s needed me all her life with fervor and lust. Her hands wander up my shirt and I don’t stop her. Her lips are soft but rough against my own. She kisses down my neck making me feel weak to her touch. A suppressed moan escapes my lips. God, I need her so badly. Her lips return to mine hungry for more.

My phone rings in the background making us pull apart suddenly. “Um, I should get that.”

… 

“It was Dina. She was worried I hadn’t made it home.”

“Oh, I see.” Ellie sits up in bed. I would’ve thought I'd feel regret for kissing Ellie but I don’t. I feel like it’s unlocked a part of me that’s been missing. 

“Is it okay if I still-“ She lifts up the covers. 

“Oh my god, just get back in.” I laugh and get back into bed with Ellie. This is not how I saw this ending.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 6

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The weight of it all felt crushing as I sat in my small, dimly lit apartment. The furniture I’d once been so proud of now mocked me a reminder of how quickly everything can fall apart. The life I’d fought so hard to build, the independence I’d clung to, was crumbling right in front of my eyes.

Sitting at my kitchen table, I stared at my laptop, scrolling through the same job listings I’d seen a thousand times. Every option felt like a dead end. My heart raced each time I filled out another application, hoping this one might be different. But deep down, I knew better.

No matter how many resumes I sent, how many interviews I nailed, Steve had his boot on my neck, and it felt like he was pressing down harder every day. This was a long, drawn-out game for him, and I was trapped on the board with no way off.

Out of sheer desperation, I grabbed my phone and started dialing a few of the connections I’d made back when I worked for Rogers and Co. Maybe one of them could offer some advice, a lead, anything to help me claw my way out of this nightmare. But each call was met with awkward hesitations and thinly veiled excuses.

“Sorry, Kiwi. I wish I could help, but…we’re not hiring right now.”

“We’ll keep your resume on file, but, you know…the market’s really tight.”

It was painfully clear: no one wanted anything to do with me. Not with Steve Rogers involved.

"Just say sorry," Natasha said. She’d called to check on me, and with everything piling up, I ended up venting it all. And this was her big advice.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I replied, feeling the frustration build.

“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “Steve feels wronged. So, unless you want to go back to barely scraping by or, worse, moving back in with your parents, you’re going to go to him and apologize."

The weight of everything was crushing me. My savings were dwindling fast, and rent was looming. With no steady income, my anxiety was through the roof. I needed answers. I needed him.

So, I called Steve. Blocked. His work number? Blocked. I even tried reaching out to human resources. No one picked up. It was like I didn’t exist anymore.

With no other options left, I did the only thing I could think of, I went to his house.

By the time I got there, I was a wreck. My mind was a mess of emotions—desperation, anger, shame. I had no idea what I was going to say or how this would go, but I needed to see him. I needed to fix this.

The guard, Curtis, stepped in front of me just as I reached the gated mansion. “I’m sorry, Kiwi, you can’t come in.” Sympathy softened his eyes.

Not that long ago, he’d greet me with a big smile and a cheerful "good morning." Amazing how quickly things could change.

“Please, Curtis, I just need to talk to him,” I pleaded, my voice shaky.

He shook his head, unmoved. “You know I can’t let you in. You’ll need to leave.” His voice soft and regretful

Panic was clawing at my chest. I knew Steve had to be home by now. As long as he didn’t have any impromptu meetings, he should be here. I just needed to stall a little longer.

I continued to beg, keeping Curtis distracted when I saw Steve’s sleek black SUV pulling up to the gate. My breath hitched as the window rolled down.

“Steve! Please!” I rushed to his car, desperation leaking from every word. But then I froze when I saw a girl in the passenger seat. Small, delicate, and almost terrified.

Steve rolled down his window, sunglasses on, face completely unreadable. "This is Lemon," he said smoothly, like introducing her was the most natural thing in the world. "She's my new PA."

The world tilted beneath me. My replacement. Lemon. She looked at me with wide, uncertain eyes, like she didn’t know whether to be worried or sorry.

I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at her, then back at Steve. She was everything I wasn’t-thin, polished, perfect. Her nails were immaculate, her hair shiny and neat. I glanced down at the soft pooch of my belly, the wideness of my hips. I could feel every flaw like it was magnified under a spotlight.

The car inched forward, and just as Curtis started to pull me back, I whispered, “Please... I’ll do anything.”

Steve’s car came to a sudden stop. He turned to me, then, after what felt like an eternity, he told Curtis to let me go.

It took me a second to process what he’d said. He was letting me in. I scrambled into the backseat, heart pounding, unsure of what to expect.

Steve was calm, collected, as he spoke to Lemon about tomorrow’s schedule. He told her which meetings to cancel, which to reschedule, even what kind of coffee he wanted in the morning. I listened in disbelief. He’d never done this with me. I always had to guess what he wanted, figure things out on my own. But with Lemon? Everything was smooth. Easy.

I couldn’t help the sinking feeling that washed over me. I felt like I was being crushed under the weight of my own inadequacy.

The car stopped at in front of Steve’s mansion as a servant came to collect the keys from him. Lemon stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement, and Steve followed, giving her a few more instructions before dismissing her. I watched them, feeling completely out of place.

Steve knocked on the window, signaling for me to get out. I scrambled out of the car, still trying to make sense of everything as I followed him up the grand staircase. My breath was shaky, my legs heavy, and with each step, it felt like the walls were closing in around me.

By the time we reached his home office, I was suffocating under the realization that I had just walked right back into his world, willingly. And this time, I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it out.

Steve moved around the room, his back to me, busy with something I couldn’t focus on. My mind was spinning, trapped in the loop of my own panic and anger, trying to think of my next move. What the hell am I doing here?

It wasn’t until he stopped and stood directly in front of me that I snapped back into the moment. Without thinking, without giving myself time to reconsider, I slapped him…hard.

The sting on my palm wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm inside me. Before he could even react, I hit him again, this time pounding my fists against his chest, pushing with everything I had. But he didn’t budge. It was like hitting a brick wall. He just stood there, solid, unaffected.

“How could you do this to me?” I screamed, tears burning my eyes. “How could you ruin me like this?”

My fists kept slamming into him. I couldn’t stop. “I worked so hard! I wasted so much time, so much effort on you!” My voice cracked, spilling out every bit of frustration that had been boiling beneath the surface for months.

Eventually, the fight drained out of me, my hands falling limp against his chest. But the words kept coming, tumbling out as tears streamed down my face. “You knew, Steve. You knew my situation. You knew I was struggling, and you still choose to play with my livelihood like it’s some kind of fucking game.”

I was sobbing now, choking on the unfairness of it all. “I did everything right,” I whispered “and I’m still fucked.”

I looked up at him, my vision blurry from the tears, and the truth spilled out before I could stop it. “You ruined my fucking life.”

Another wave of rage surged through me, and I raised my hand to slap him again. But this time, he caught me. His grip was firm as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward one of the chairs in his office, forcing me to sit down.

Steve didn’t react to my outburst. He didn’t even look angry. Instead, he stood in front of me, calm and collected, like I hadn’t just tried to claw at him.

“This is life,” he said, his voice maddeningly leveled. “No one’s going to cater to you for free.”

I screamed back, “I was your employee! You were supposed to treat me with some decency!”

He shook his head, as if I didn’t get it. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

His hands slid into his pockets; his gaze fixed on me. It was then that I noticed the way he positioned himself, never quite lowering to my level, leaving me at eye-level with his crotch. My stomach churned with the realization.

"I'm attracted to you," Steve admitted, his voice calm and unsettling. "I've had a thing for you since university." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I convinced Sharon to invite you to the Maldives so I could see you again, to... reconnect." He smirked, as if the memory amused him. "And during the trip, I fell for you all over again. It’s always been you."

"Did Sharon know?" I asked.

"Of course she did. Sharon always knew. She was just keeping your spot warm until you were ready for it. But her ego eventually got in the way."

I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. What kind of twisted logic was this?

"She tried her best to keep you from going on the trip, but I was always a step ahead."

"And when she got sick? Was that your plan too?"

"Just luck," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "But it made it a hell of a lot easier to get close to you."

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking away, not sure what else to say. “I didn’t realize.”

Steve’s expression hardened, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. “Bullshit,” he spat. “You didn’t want to realize.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered now. I was ruined, jobless, broke, and desperate.

“Please,” I began, my voice trembling, “if you won’t hire me back as your assistant, could you at least help me get hired at another department? Or, if you’re still interested in... dating me…maybe you could find me something elsewhere, another company maybe?”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dark, making my skin crawl. He began to circle me slowly, touching my hair in the process. But when he spoke again, his voice was firm and cold. “Dating?” He laughed again, this time with more venom. “We’ll be doing a lot more than just dating.” He stopped in front of me, leaning down just slightly, and I could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on me.

“What do I get in return?” he begins in a low voice, then raises it, “Ungratefulness? Boundaries?!”

 I froze.

Steve’s eyes locked onto mine, his voice dropping into a whisper that chilled me to the bone. “I want you. And I don’t mind giving you a comfortable life. A life where you’ll never have to worry about money again. But if you want that, you’ll live under my thumb. You’ll have to be mine, in every way.”

My breath caught in my throat. I knew what he was offering, it was everything I thought I wanted at the cost of my freedom, my dignity. “It’s up to you.” He straightens his body slightly widening his stance “What do you want me to do?” I whispered. Silently accepting the offer.

I swallowed, my pride sinking into my chest. I had always been so careful, so determined to keep Steve at a distance, to not let him pull me into this world entirely. But now…

The room felt too small, the air too thick. My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists on her lap.

Steve just smirked and his eyes trailed downwards, I followed his line of sight. A sizeable bulge formed, struggling against the zipper of his slacks. I wanted to cry again, Steve probably sensing this “It’s ok, you’ll be able to handle it, you were able to before”

His words take me aback. "What’s that supposed to mean?" I ask.

“You don’t remember all the fun we had that last week in the Maldives? Or when we got back to my mansion?”

I try to recall, but it’s all a blur. Every memory from that time feels hazy; all I remember is feeling constantly nauseous and exhausted.

“What did you do?” I asked

He grins, as if he’s holding on to a secret.

“Welp, it doesn’t matter now.” He moves to unzip his pants freeing his cock from its constraints, and there it was. Solid, looking angry and red with thick veins bulging all over. “We have other matters to attend to.”

I start shaking my head frantically, trying to pull away, but Steve grips my shoulder to hold me still.

"Ah, ah," he says, tone firm. "We're way past that. And remember, things can only get worse from here on out. Don’t just think about yourself, consider your parents and everything they worked so hard for. I can drag this out for as long as I want"

My attention broke once his cock twitched in my face.

This was thrilling for him. Whether it was the idea of me submitting or the prospect of a twisted game of cat and mouse, it hit me…I would never be free of Steve Rogers. I looked up at him, eyes pleading, silently begging him to let me keep my dignity. But he didn’t care.

"I'm waiting," he says in a mocking tone, lifting my chin with his finger before resting his hands on his hips, clearly patronizing me.

I look up to the ceiling a moment trying to hold my tears back, before being forced to face his cock again.

With shaky hands, I went to grab his shaft, it felt so hot, burning almost.

“Go ahead.” He coaxed.

I drew my head closer, sticking out my tongue, this was actually happening. Steve wasn’t going to stop me, and I will forever be known as the woman who whored herself out for a fucking job. God only knows what they’d say, if Steve decided to make this a habit. ‘Oh, look it’s the girl who trades pussy for benefits,’.

My tongue made contact with the head, it felt warm, and his musk quickly invaded my senses.

Fuck it.

I just needed to get to the other side of this, and the best way to do it was to dive in it. I did my best to pull him into my mouth, but he was so big, and girthy. When I heard his moans, I started a game plan, building a rhythm I could get used to, so I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

But as always, Steve had to fuck that up. He immediately grabbed the back of my head and began swiftly pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. At first, he was gentle, or as gentle as one could be in this situation. Then he was forcing more of himself deeper, and before I knew it, his pubic region was pushing right up against my nose, hairs and all.

I couldn’t take it; I could feel my body preparing to vomit as I began to wretch. I frantically slapped at Steve’s thighs, to make him stop, but he just went harder. My spit started foaming around the areas where my mouth met his cock, dripping down my chin and falling onto my chest.

Tears pouring through my eyes as I begged for this to be over. Steve eventually did meet his climax, forcefully pushing my head into his crotch as he came down my throat, shivering from his climax. making it extremely difficult to breathe. I tried to push against him, but he was so much stronger.

Just as it felt like I was about to faint, he let go. I coughed and gagged, doing my best to compose myself despite the circumstances.

“That was your punishment” he made a grab for my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”

He paused, looking deeply into my eyes, as I struggled for air, a breathless chuckle escaping from his lips “You look so fucking beautiful right now” the smile on his face looking so genuine. Then he pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue invading my mouth. After what feels like several minutes, he finally separates from me.

“Get up, let’s go.”

He stands straight, and begins fixing his clothes, tucking in his shirt and zipping up his pants.

I find a tissue box on his desk and reach for, before I could pull out a sheet, his hand slaps my own away.

“No, I want you to stay like that for the rest of the day”

I try to protest, but then there’s a knock on the door. I’m unable to gather my thoughts before Bucky walks in, he stops looking between the two of us before smirking and greeting Steve.

"Hey, Kiwi, long time no see." He strolls over to the couch near the entrance and sits down. "Heard you had a great time in the Maldives, too bad I couldn’t make it." He grins, throwing me a wink as he settles in.

Lemon comes in behind him, and I’m just about ready to start crying again, I expected a look of judgment from her, but she seemed more apologetic, and a bit off kilter. Her clothes ragged, and though still shiny, her hair wasn’t as neat as I saw it earlier that day. Steve sits on the chair next to mine. Lemon and Bucky on the couch off to the side.

They start talking business, as I do my best to shrink into myself trying not to burst into tears from embarrassment.

I peeked up at the trio once more and as Steve and Bucky were speaking Lemon was looking right at me. No judgment, and for once, oddly enough, I felt understood.

That couldn’t be a good thing.

After Steve's meeting with Bucky, he gave me a subtle gesture to follow him. My legs felt heavy, but I couldn’t resist. I glanced at Lemon, who looked shaken, her eyes wide with the same fear I felt inside. That’s when it hit me: both of us were trapped. Steve had me, and Bucky had her. We were just pieces in their game.

I followed Steve down the hall, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the polished floors, my mind flashing back to the last time I was in his bedroom, after the Maldives trip. The memories of that night started creeping in, tightening my chest. I swallowed the fear as Steve led me to the bedroom.

Without saying a word, he started undressing, peeling off his shirt, then unbuckling his pants. Every movement made the panic in my chest rise, and my body stiffened. I was bracing for... something. Something I wasn’t ready for.

But then, he stopped. His pants halfway down, he looked at me with a strange expression, irritation lacing his voice. "What are you doing? You know where the bathroom is. Go and get cleaned up."

His command stunned me. I hadn’t expected the reprieve, but I took it. I turned and made my way to the bathroom, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. When I entered, I noticed a silk nighty hanging from the shower curtain rod. It was dark red with black lace trim. My fingers instinctively reached out to touch it, the fabric smooth and delicate under my fingertips. Next to the sink was a packaged toothbrush and new toothpaste…the exact brand I used at home.

I stared at it for a moment, my mind swirling with questions. How did he know? How long had he been preparing for this?

I shook myself out of my daze and focused on getting clean. The warm water from the shower helped ease some of the tension, but my thoughts were everywhere, wondering what would happen next.

As I scrubbed myself clean I heard the bathroom door open I scrubbed myself clean, brushed my teeth, and finally slipped into the nighty. The material clung to my skin, unfamiliar and intimate. I still had my underwear from earlier, but I couldn’t help but feel exposed, and a little gross.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the room was dark. Steve was already in bed, his back turned, but his presence filled the space. I hesitated in the doorway, unsure what to do next. The weight of the night felt suffocating.

Apparently, I stood there too long because his voice cut through the darkness, annoyed and sharp. "Turn off the bathroom light and come to bed."

I flicked the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness, and carefully made my way to the bed. Sliding onto the mattress, I tried to stay on my side, giving him space. But before I could settle in, Steve shifted. He moved closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me toward him.

I was his little spoon.

His chest pressed against my back, his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of the nighty. His breath was slow and steady against my neck, but my own breathing became shallow, panic clawing at my insides. I could feel the weight of his arm holding me in place, his grip firm but not aggressive.

Still, it felt like a cage.

I tried to calm myself, counting my breaths, telling myself that this was just sleep. But every inch he moved, every time his body shifted closer, I felt the walls closing in. Panic started to set in again, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

As Steve closed the space between us, his body pressed firmly against mine, something felt off, too much skin, too much warmth. A sudden realization hit me like ice water down my spine.

"You’re not wearing any underwear," I said quietly, my voice betraying the unease building in my chest.

I felt his hand travel down to my pelvis, fingers brushing against the fabric of my underwear. There was a pause, and in a low, disappointed tone, he muttered, "And you are."

The words sent a chill through me, sharper than the night air. His disappointment felt like a judgment, hanging between us in the dark. My mind raced, but my body remained frozen, trapped in the tension of the moment.

“Take it off” he demands

At first, my body tensed, ready to fight back, a surge of defiance pushing through me. But a quick glance at my surroundings. the darkness of the room, the heaviness of Steve’s presence, and the knowledge of how trapped I really was.

So, I relented.

I moved to slip off my underwear, trying to keep my breaths steady, hoping the tremor in my hands wasn’t too obvious. Steve shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to give me space to do what he wanted, his silence suffocating as I removed the last piece of fabric that gave me any kind of security.

When I was done, he wasted no time. His arm wrapped around me once more, tighter than before, pulling me in like I was something he owned. His hand settled back on my pelvis, the warmth of his skin against mine, and I felt his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "That’s better."

The words crawled under my skin, leaving me cold despite the heat of his body pressed against mine. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to lie still, my mind racing even though my body was now as motionless as his grip allowed.

He started moving, his hands roaming over my body, rubbing, groping, pulling at my skin like I was clay in his hands. He couldn’t seem to stay still, his movements growing more aggressive with each passing second. His fingers kneaded my hips, his palms pinched the soft flesh of my thighs, and his body ground into mine, the weight of him pressing me deeper into the mattress.

I could feel his breath quicken, hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest as he kissed down my ear to my neck, his lips hot and greedy against my skin. Every kiss, every touch, sent a wave of nausea rolling through me, but I was too overwhelmed to push him off.

The scent of him, clean, sharp, and suffocating was all I could breathe in, clouding my senses, making it hard to think straight. My body felt heavy, pinned beneath him as his weight shifted, trapping me further against the bed.

His growling became louder, more animalistic, as his lips moved lower, his hands grasping me tighter. I closed my eyes, willing myself to detach, to float above the moment even as his presence consumed every inch of me.

With a careful thrust he pushed his cock between the crease of my thighs, pushing against my pussy.

A sigh released from his chest as he stills. The space naturally damp due to my just getting out of the shower, alongside my plumper physique.

A few moments pass before he starts moving again, causing friction against my lower lips, occasionally rubbing up against my clit. As his movements become more frantic, he grabs of my breasts, and begins pinching and pulling at my nipples.

My own excitement begins to flourish as his movements speed up, and before I know it he stills as his warm liquid spills between my legs.

He takes some time to gather himself, and when I think he’s done, a hand is pulled off one of my breasts, traveling down to my pubis, and pressing his fingers against my clit. Carefully, he begins rolling my button between his fingers, whispering in my ear. “You feel so good” I feel him shift, pulling back slightly before I realize what’s happening. He pushes inside me, and a sharp squeal escapes my lips. Steve growls, his grip tightening around me, holding me firmly in place with no room for escape. Every thrust is deliberate, his body pressing harder into mine as his fingers find their way to my most sensitive spot.

The sensations hit me all at once, my body betraying me as the overwhelming pressure builds. I can’t hold back, and before I know it, I’m trembling, the wave of pleasure crashing over me as I reach my climax.

I rarely experience this feeling, so I keep still, trying to pull myself back from the edge of euphoria. My body was betraying me, and I could hear the wet, unmistakable sound of his movements filling the room. Steve suddenly stops, letting out a breath before chuckling softly.

He hugs me tightly, his body pressing firmly against mine as if nothing had just happened.

"Goodnight," he says, his voice low and satisfied, as though everything was perfectly normal.

I lay there, frozen, the weight of him pinning me in place, unsure if I’d ever truly wake from this.

I close my eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but my thoughts tangle like a knot I can't untie. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, suffocating, yet exhaustion finally won. As the darkness pulled me under, I could only hope that when I woke up, this would all turn out to be a nightmare, one that I was desperate to escape from, waiting for it to end.