#because like you i don't want you talking shit about me especially if i have no idea what you're referencing

[mytherapyisreading14]

Coffee, Chaos and a new Job

Summary: You start your new job at the BAU and get a coffee on your way to work, where run into a handsome stranger. It turns out he's also your new coworker.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None, just pure fluff

Word Count: 3k

Author‘s Note: Maybe I‘ll turn this into a series, let me know what you think! :)

The smell of freshly ground coffee is in the air as you enter the café. You look at your watch. It’s 7:37 am. You're a little late for your first day at work. You already took more time than you wanted in the morning and then the bus didn’t arrive on time.

But you really need that coffee right now to wake you up. You quickly go to the counter and place your order. The barista is fast and you can get your coffee in just a few minutes.

You take the cup and turn around hastily, making your way to the door, when you suddenly bump into someone. “Oh!” you exclaim in shock as the hot coffee splashes out of the mug and drips a little onto the man in front of you. A very attractive man.

A small stain lands on his shirt and even more on the book he is holding. Your eyes widen as you survey the scene. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!” You apologize immediately. The man looks at you in surprise. The stain on his shirt doesn't seem to bother him much. "Uh... No problem," he says, he seems a bit reserved. “It happens…it’s okay.”

You look at the book, which has a few dark spots shining on it, and raise an eyebrow. “Oh no, I soiled your book too,” you say with a worried look. You hope he won't be too angry. You know that it would really bother you if one of your books was ruined. “I’m so sorry, that really wasn’t intentional!”

He looks at you, and even though he seems nervous, you can see a small smile forming. “It’s really no problem,” he says. “I uh… I have other copy’s at home. In several other languages.” You take a closer look at the book and then you notice. “Wait, is that Crime and Punishment?” you ask. “This is one of my favorite books!”

He looks at the cover in surprise and then nods. "Yes that's it. I… I like it too. I also have the Russian edition and… well, the English one, which is the most practical,” he says. “Me too!” you say and your heart skips a beat.

“I really wanted the original edition, even though I don't speak Russian well. I just love this book.” He becomes visibly more excited and you notice how he slowly starts to lose his shyness as he brings up more of the topic.

“Yes! It is so fascinating how Dostoyevsky portrays the moral conflicts of these characters. Especially Raskolnikov, he constantly wonders whether evil is justified for the greater good..." he starts to ramble. You enjoy listening to him and nod in agreement.

He becomes a little more open to you and it seems like a door opens in his head and suddenly you realize how much more he has to say about the book, how much deeper he can delve into the story and how much he actually knows. It’s fascinating.

But then you look at the clock. You really have to go, otherwise you’ll never make it to work on time. “Oh shit, I have to go, I… I’m sorry, but I’m already way too late for work!” you say breathlessly. “It was really nice talking to you! I hope we meet again sometime.”

He looks at you, the nervousness back in his eyes, but also a small smile that he can't quite hide. “No problem, really...” he says and then adds. “I… um… hope we meet again sometime too.” But you can't hear it because he says it way too quiet.

You're already halfway to the door, but you turn around again to wave him goodbye with a shy smile, trying to hide your stress about being late before you quickly go outside.

The stranger you just met stands there for a while and watches you while the quiet duct of coffee drifts in the air. He hopes he really get’s to see you again. Maybe you’ll be here tomorrow again to get coffee.

-

It's almost eight in the morning and you're sprinting down the hallway, your feet tapping on the linoleum as you open the door to the office. You were just in time but still too late to start your first day at the FBI with dignity.

The nervous energy bubbling within you isn’t just noticeable because of the near-lateness. You also feel like every step you take is being viewed under a microscope. “Phew… just in time,” you murmur, trying to normalize your breathing rate as you take off your coat.

The hallway is, as always, full of life. Agents in uniform, colleagues in conversation. But it was the look you were receiving that made you the most nervous. When you enter the room, your eyes immediately fall on Erin Strauss, who is already sitting at her desk in her office.

She exudes an aura of respect and authority and appears calm and focused. You know she could command the room with a single movement. Behind her stands Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, a tall man with dark hair. You remember him from your job interview, he was there too.

“Ah, you’re actually almost there on time,” says Strauss with a slight smile that didn’t quite hide the coldness in her voice. “Sorry, I…” You take a deep breath, your voice still shaking a little bit. “Traffic was a nightmare today.”

“That’s understandable,” Strauss replies, her posture slightly stiff as she gives you a searching look. “But coming to the office on time should be part of your preparations. The FBI is all about punctuality and precision.”

"Of course. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to give the impression that I'm unreliable,” you say and to your relief Hotch nods briefly. “I hope you are ready to learn everything. The way here is not always easy,” he says.

You nod eagerly. You're glad he didn't say any more about your lateness. Instead, he gestures towards the door with a curt hand gesture, indicating that you have to leave the office. You walk down the hallway and get into the elevator with him.

“Today there is a lot to introduce you do. It's your first day and we want you to get started right away. I assume that’s in your best interest?” he asks you. “Yes, very much,” you answer immediately.

You want to prove yourself and want to take the opportunity to establish yourself in this area. The FBI is no place for mistakes. “Good,” Hotch says and the two of you step out of the elevator. He opens the door to the BAU. “Then get to know us better.”

You follow your unit chief, entering the BAU for the very first time. You know this is just the beginning. But if you get through the first day, the rest might get a little easier. Perhaps.

-

You sit in the chair in front of Hotch's desk, trying to memorize all the new information and everything you need to know to function here. You feel a certain excitement within you. Even though you're new here, it already feels like the right place.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Hotch looks up, nods at you as if it's a given that you're here, and then says, "Come in." The door opens and a woman enters, immediately catching your attention.

She has blonde hair and wears glasses. Her clothes are an absolute eye-catcher. Colorful and different patterns that reflect her creative, unconventional style from head to toe. She immediately comes across as likeable, as if she were the type of person who could fill the office with her energy and positivity.

“I just ran into Strauss. She got a call and wants to talk to you about it,” she says to Hotch. He just nods, as if he already thinks that she is keeping him up to date with something important. He turns to you and then says, “This is Penelope Garcia. She’s our technical analyst.”

Penelope smiles at you. “Ohh, it's so nice to meet you! We can always use female reinforcement!” she says with a beaming smile. Her positive energy is contagious and you immediately like her. “Thank you, I’m happy to be here too,” you reply, unable to hide your smile. She seems like someone who makes the office a place where you enjoy spending time.

Hotch stands up and looks at his watch. “I have to go to Strauss to clarify a few things. Garcia, can you introduce her to the others please?” he asks. “Of course! Oh, I'm sure they'll love you." Penelope says, grinning as she motions for you to follow her.

Before Hotch leaves the room, he turns around again. “Garcia is one of the best we have. Without her nothing would work here.” You nod as Hotch disappears. Now you're alone with Penelope. “Come with me, I’ll introduce you,” she says.

You follow her, excited to see who else is working on this team and at the same time curious about what the dynamic might be like here. Penelope is certainly an interesting acquaintance, but you are also curious to see what the others have to offer.

-

You follow Penelope down the stairs, the sounds of footsteps echoing in the large, open building. Your eyes widen when you see David Rossi, you devoured all of his books. His analyzes and case studies were always an inspiration for you. He stands with his arms crossed and talks to two other women.

Penelope heads straight towards them and you stay close behind her. The woman with blonde hair smiles at you briefly before turning back to Rossi. The other one, with the brown hair, nods at you just as friendly.

“Good morning! I hope you all had a great weekend,” Penelope says with so much energy that you immediately have to smile again. “I have to introduce someone to you, our new team member!” Everyone turns to you and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You try to stay calm even though you're bubbling with excitement inside. You turn to Rossi because he is the first to extend his hand to you. “David Rossi,” he says and smiles. It feels surreal to actually talk to him. You get lost in the conversation, Emily and JJ joining in. You immediately like them. In the background you hear Penelope talking.

“Where are my Chocolate Thunder and Boy Wonder? They’re never this late.” Emily, who is standing next to Rossi points to the door. “They’re coming.” You notice two more people join the small group. You turn to the side to introduce yourself to them too but suddenly stop as your eyes fall on the man you ran into at the cafe this morning.

“Hey! You’ve got to be kidding me, you work here too?” you ask and laugh. You are surprised to see him here again of all places. He looks at you with wide eyes and promptly turns red in the face.

"Uh... hi. Yes, I work here," he says, and you see him nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. His colleague, who is standing right next to him, looks at you with a smile and raises an eyebrow. “This will be exciting,” he murmurs with a grin as he watches you and your incredulous look.

You feel your cheeks getting a little warmer, but the smile still remains on your face. It feels almost too crazy, but somehow also right. “I'm Derek Morgan. Nice to meet you. You two seem to already know each other,” he says, gesturing between you and Spencer. A mischievous grin plays on his lips, and you can hear the humor in his voice.

You smile back and nod as you explain, “Yeah, unfortunately I spilled half my coffee on him this morning. I was in a hurry and really stressed.” You turn back to Spencer. “Sorry again,” you say. Spencer smiles shyly at you.

"No problem. I... I'm Spencer by the way. We had... I mean, there was no time earlier... you left before I could introduce myself…" he stops when he realises he is stuttering. You smile at his nervous, almost awkward manner and immediately feel that tingling sensation in your stomach again, which you noticed before.

That's not good, he's now your colleague and you definitely can't fall in love with him. You tell him your name too and the others in the room, especially Derek, seem to be watching the scene with a grin. It's almost as if they all know that something is happening between you here.

“Spencer, maybe you should keep your distance when she walks around with coffee in the future,” Derek says with a wink and Spencer blushes. Meanwhile, you feel the gazes of others in the room observing the situation. Penelope, who follows the situation with a smile, and Emily, who stands quietly by, holding back a comment, but is clearly amused.

"Okay, well... I think we're all officially introduced now," Emily finally says, breaking the small pause. “I hope you've settled in a bit by now, we don't have a case right now, but we still have a lot to do. But don’t worry, you’ll get into the rhythm quickly.”

-

JJ takes you with her to complete the last paperwork they need for your final hiring. When you leave the office, Spencer stays behind with the others. You've just closed the door behind you and Morgan is already grinning in Spencer’s direction.

“Ohhh, pretty boy has a girlfriend now. I'm proud of you, man. But no kissing in the office please,” he teases. Spencer immediately blushes. “Shut up, she’s… she’s not my girlfriend,” he stammers, trying to defuse the situation.

Garcia, standing next to Morgan almost jumps with excitement. “Oh my god, Spencer. You really have to ask her out! She's amazing! You would look so cute together!” Emily, who is watching the whole thing with an amused grin, can no longer suppress her laughter. “Oh, this is too good.“

Spencer tries to hide in his chair. “You are impossible. She's not my girlfriend! Stop talking like that.” Garcia raises her eyebrows, her expression completely innocent. “Oh come on, Spencer. I saw the way you looked at her. You like her. You don’t have to hide it!”

As as she said that, the door to the hallway opens. Hotch comes back and the rest of the team immediately realizes that they should start to focus on their work again. The conversation about Spencer and his alleged coffee dates immediately dies down.

Morgan and Garcia give each other one last meaningful look before returning to their work. Hotch immediately notices that there is something in the air. “Everything alright? What did you just do?” Hotch asks as he briefly looks around.

“Nothing, Hotch. Just a bit of... team building,” Morgan replies with a cheeky smile. Hotch nods and goes to his desk while Gracia takes another look at Spencer and smiles. “We saw you, Pretty Boy,” she whispers to him. Spencer sighs deeply and tries to immerse himself in the paperwork as best he can, while his mind keeps returning to you.

-

Your first day went by quickly, no case came in and you had spent the whole day looking through the files with JJ and seeing everything the BAU had to offer. She took the time to explain everything to you in detail and it was extremely helpful.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day you are completely exhausted, but also satisfied. The team welcomed you warmly and you could well imagine working here long-term. You grab your bag and are about to leave when you notice Spencer out of the corner of your eye.

He is shoving his coffee-covered book into his bag and you immediately feel guilty again. You hadn't done it on purpose, but the book is still marked by the coffee stains. With a deep breath you gather all your courage, grab your bag and walk towards him.

“Hey, I wanted to apologize again for what happened this morning,” you start as you stop in front of him. “I’m just really sorry about your book. Can I... can I maybe invite you for coffee tomorrow morning? As an apology?”

Spencer looks surprised and seems to take a moment to answer. You can see him as he glances nervously at Morgan, who's grinning from the corner of the room. “Oh, uh… no problem,” Spencer finally stutters, quickly reaching for his bag. Morgan raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Yeah, sure… I uh… think it would be nice if you did that. But you don't have to, I—"

You interrupt him with a smile. “But I would like to. So, shall we meet there tomorrow then? At the same time? This time without a crash?” you ask and grin slightly. “Yes, I… I’d like that,” Spencer replies with a shy nod before saying goodbye to you.

You turn around to the others, saying goodbye to them too and then make your way out. Morgan and Spencer leave a few minutes later. In the elevator, Morgan nudges Spencer with a mischievous grin. “So, a date now, Pretty Boy?” Morgan laughs, glancing at Spencer, who immediately blushes.

“It’s just coffee. Among colleagues,” Spencer defends himself while trying not to let himself get carried away. “Sure, sure,” Morgan continues to grin and shakes his head. “Just keep telling yourself that. Have fun tomorrow,” he teases him. “Morgan!” Spencer calls as they exit the elevator but he can't help but smile.

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter five

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 13k

masterlist

NOAH POV

“You called in a favor to go on a sushi date?” 

Jolly could only stare at his best friend like he was going to break down in laughter at any second and tell him that he was just kidding. Unfortunately for Jolly, Noah could only stare back at him, completely expressionless. 

“That's not the point.”

“If you want to fuck the server, then fuck the server. Don't get dragged into her mess when we have our own shit to deal with, Noah. Come on, man.” 

Noah’s jaw clenched at his friend’s terms regarding you, though his face remained stoic. Years of training had made him the perfect guard with an outstanding poker face. 

Jolly’s mouth then fell open in shock. The silence said it all. He was one of the only people who could read Noah’s blank expressions, even more so lately. He figured he had you to thank for that. You were quickly becoming his one and only weakness. 

“You're telling me that you're going through all of this for pussy you haven't even had yet?” 

Goddamn, Noah really hated him talking about you like that. You weren't just some pussy he was looking to score with. Maybe at first it had been purely lust, but things changed in a whirlwind. Now you were clouding his mind every second of every day. He couldn't stand the thought of harm coming to you, especially not after he had vowed to keep you safe. You were his responsibility now. His problem. But in the best way possible. 

“Look,” Noah adjusted the black wraps on his hands and then flexed his fingers. “I swore to her I wouldn't say anything to you, so can you at least try to keep this quiet?” 

Who was he kidding? He wouldn't be able to keep it from you that he had broken his promise. 

His fist then slammed into the punching bag dangling before him with little warning, followed by another solid hit that would have his knuckles aching in a matter of seconds. No amount of fights or training could fully help his body adjust to the abuse he put it through. Jolly groaned slightly from where he was standing behind the bag, gripping at the sides to keep it still with each forceful punch. 

“Then why are you telling me?” 

Noah took a moment to ponder this question. Why was he? He knew he would eventually need resources Jolly had but he couldn't tell his best friend that that was the only reason. 

“Because clearly these guys aren't fucking around and I can't be everywhere at once.” 

“So…what? You want to assign men to her? Fucking hell, Noah.”

Hands up and his breathing controlled, Noah landed punch after punch into the bag, following it up with a knee into the side of it that would easily take any assailant down. His hands then fell to his hips and he took a step back, his breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his forehead. 

“Mainly me,” he shrugged. “But when I'm needed at the club or for shipments then I figured we could spare Jackson.” 

“We can't spare anyone, Noah. This operation only works when we have all hands on deck. Everyone has a place and a job.” 

Noah’s jaw clenched, his grip on the water bottle he now held causing the plastic to loudly crinkle. He took a swallow before setting the bottle aside and then approaching Jolly, their chests nearly touching. If Jolly thought he was going to back down to him because he was his “boss” then he was dead wrong. Their roles were nothing more than a show. 

“This woman is important to me and I'm going to make sure she feels safe. Isn't that what we're all about, Joakim?” 

Jolly flinched at the use of his actual name, his eyes narrowing. 

“She gets a guard, a detail, an escort - whatever the fuck I decide that she needs. I promised her I would keep her safe and I'll do anything in my power to keep that promise. You don't have to understand. I don't give a shit. But as my best friend, you will respect these decisions and her.” 

“Goddammit,” Jolly cursed under his breath when he was the first to break their intense eye contact. He briefly gave his back to Noah, a hand washing over his face in pure aggravation. 

Turning to face him again, Jolly licked over his lips and produced a single nod. But before Noah could strut away with his victory, he pointed a finger directly at his chest. “If this ruins our operation, I will fucking bury you. Best friend or not. Understand?” 

Noah smirked, nodding. “I'll even help you dig the grave.”

READER POV

Waking up in an unknown bed wasn't common for you. Casual hook ups weren't your thing, so if it wasn't your bed - or Vane’s in the past - then you were utterly lost and baffled. Except you were starting to recall the night before and just why you were in an unknown bed, surrounded by homely items that did not belong to you. 

Noah. Your destroyed apartment. The worry in his eyes. His mouth on your body before it all went to shit. 

You wished you could relive that last little bit just a moment longer. 

Your eyes slowly opened to first see the unfamiliar lamp on the bedside table, a bottle of water and a phone charging cord occupying the space around it. The sheets were soft and warm from where you were cocooned within them, the scent attached to them a comforting sensation that could easily lull you back to sleep. His scent. You knew you needed to get up, though. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't rot in this bed all day. 

Sitting up with reluctance, you began to scan the contents of the bedroom. There wasn't much to it, just like the living room you had been staring longingly at for a few months now. A dresser with a mirror, closet, two bedside tables, virtually nothing of personal value on the shelves or in the bookcase nestled into the corner. You couldn't say you were surprised. Noah was a minimalist, something you couldn't relate to. 

As you pulled yourself out of bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your feet slowly shuffled you out of the bedroom. It was quiet in the apartment, the eerie silence sending a chill down your spine and bringing goosebumps to your arms. You hugged yourself as you stepped into the living room, making a slow approach to the window you were so used to looking through from your own apartment. Being on the opposite side now was surreal. 

Across the way you could see the destroyed mess that was once your home. Noah hadn't let you clean anything up before dragging you out the night before despite your protests. The large sum of money you had hidden away was truly what you were concerned about. You heavily sighed, eyes then falling to the singular plant that sat to your right. The soil was in desperate need of some moisture, so you scurried to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, then slowly began to dump it into the dry soil. 

Just as you were tilting the glass further up, the front door suddenly opened, keys jingling and bags rustling. You jumped, what remained of the water sloshing onto your chest and stomach, the fabric of Noah’s shirt you wore immediately soaking all the way through. 

“Jesus Christ!” You gasped, a hand clutching your chest. Your eyes were nearly bulging out of your head as you looked at Noah standing in the doorway, his brows raised and a laugh threatening to escape. 

“Just me,” he then chuckled, hands held up in innocence. 

You relaxed only when your brain came to terms with you not being in any danger. You actually felt your safest when Noah was around. It was odd since you had only known him for a handful of time, but no one had ever put you at ease the way he did.

That both delighted and terrified you. 

“Did you sleep okay?” 

Noah's eyes trailed your body, pausing when he noticed the way his damp shirt was clinging to portions of your skin. One spot in particular being on your chest, granting him the view of your hardened nipple beneath the chill-inducing wet fabric. You pulled the fabric away from your body, waving it a bit to help dry sections of it, unaware that he had been close to drooling. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged. When you looked back up at him, he abruptly shifted his gaze elsewhere, awkwardly fumbling with the items in his arms. 

“You really should've let me sleep on the couch,” you added as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“What kind of host would I be if I did that?” 

“Okay, then you should've slept in bed with me,” you continued while following right on his heels. Noah was stocking the fridge with some sparkling waters that just so happened to be the same brand you always had on hand. “I would've kept my hands to myself.” 

Noah peered up at you with his infamous smirk, brows raised. He shook his head while closing the fridge and then went to continue unloading the little bit of groceries. He was wearing a black t-shirt and athletic shorts, his face flushed, leading you to believe that he had been out at the gym before. You would've loved to have watched that show. 

“I don't think I would have,” he replied honestly. 

Funny how your cheeks immediately warmed with a blush. You appreciated the candor, but what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

No, please, Noah. Completely ravish me. Ruin me. Make me take it. I want to feel it for days. 

Yeah, you didn't think that was the right route to take. Not when he was clearly on edge and you had people out there set on killing you. 

“I had to tell Jolly about what happened.” 

Your heart skipped, silence befalling you both. 

“I'm sorry,” Noah continued, his hands pressed into the kitchen island he was leaning into. “I know I promised you I wouldn't but with what happened last night…I needed the extra support.” 

You were trying your best to ignore the flexed muscles in his arms, as well as the reddened and split skin that was his knuckles. Nope, you weren't going to let him unknowingly distract you with his body. The same body you had dreamed about, the one you desperately wanted to feel on top of you. 

Fuck! No! You were supposed to be mad at him for going back on his word!

“Extra support?” You repeated, your voice small. 

“As much as I would like to be, I can't be with you at all times. So, some of the trusted guys that work for me will also be keeping an eye on you.” 

You grimaced at his word choice, head slowly shaking. You could practically see the Nocturnal mask slipping down over his face. 

“I'm not a toddler at a water park, Noah. I don't need people watching me.” 

“It's happening whether you want it to or not.” His words were stern and direct, the muscle in his jaw fluttering beneath the strain he was placing on it. 

When you said nothing after crossing your arms over your chest, he continued. 

“Someone will drive you to and from both of your jobs, as well as anywhere else you need to go. You'll stay here until I can get a safe house sorted, where a guard will also be stationed.” 

What the fuck was happening? Why was Noah suddenly talking like some secret service agent? 

“Safe house?” 

“I know it's asking a lot, but I'd also like for you to check in with me if I'm not around to see you for myself. Can you do that?” 

You stared at him, the expression on your face reading as utterly dumbfounded. 

“Who the hell are you?” Although you didn't really know Noah, not as much as you should to feel the way you did about him, this was the first time you truly viewed him as a stranger. 

He blinked a couple of times before his face softened and he pushed away from the island to close the space between you in record time. The usual confidence remained in his movements but you could see the concern written in his eyes. 

“No,” he lowered his voice to a near whisper while taking your face into his hands. “Please don't look at me like that. You've never looked at me like that.” 

Was Noah worried that you were scared of him? That's all that you could think of as you gazed up into his eyes while his thumbs brushed your cheeks. You wanted to tell him that you weren't but the words wouldn't move past your tongue. His forehead leaned down against yours, strong hands still encasing your face and keeping you close. 

“Why are you doing this for me?” You managed to finally speak, your voice now as soft as his had been. Your hands lifted to circle his wrists though not so you could push him away, but because you wanted to be closer. So, so much closer. 

Noah took in a deep breath and remained silent for a long moment. When he did speak up again, you were no more enlightened than you had been.  

“I don't know.”

X X X 

Six days had gone by and you barely saw Noah. He was busy with work, muttering something about having to receive shipments and make deliveries, but he was gone more so than he used to be. You thought it was odd that Nocturnal’s head of security was on delivery duty, but you found it best not to question him about it. Noah obviously had secrets and you weren't so naive to believe that you were meant to know them. 

You stared blankly at the dark blue backsplash of Red’s stove, condensation from your use of a burner and boiling water forming along it. You had opted to stay later than you usually did because it was better than going back to Noah’s quiet apartment. Sure, you had whichever guy was assigned to you that night, but it wasn't the same. They never talked to you, never really paid you any mind except for when Noah called and they had to verify you were okay. 

So, you were “working” late, which consisted of you making a box of macaroni and cheese for dinner. Red had long gone to bed, or so he said, though you could occasionally hear the creak of his floorboards above. Oh well. Whatever he did in the comfort of his house was his business. 

“Something smells…processed.” 

You looked up from where you were mixing the powdered cheese in with butter and milk to see Nicholas standing in the kitchen walkway, trusty Zippo lighter in hand. His bright eyes were set on you, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Got enough for two?”  The opening and closing of the lighter trailing his words. 

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes before releasing a long exhale. You didn't yet respond as you reached up into the cabinet to bring down another bowl, a silent acceptance to his desire to join you. 

“I don't want to hear one complaint about it,” you exclaimed, eying him for a brief moment. 

“Why would I ever do such a thing?”

You began to spoon the yellow coated noodles into both bowls, being careful to make each one equal. “Because I know you were raised on truffle goat cheese macaroni and bottles of wine that cost more than my rent.” 

The sound of metal scraping against the hardwood told you that Nicholas had pulled a chair out at the massive island. Followed by another because apparently he was kind enough to prepare a seat for you as well. 

“Do I sense a bit of a judgy tone?” 

“Me? Judgy? That doesn't sound right at all.” 

Since you had been spending more nights at Red’s house, you had managed to run into Nicholas way more than you would've preferred. It was awkward at first because he gave you the creeps, which he still kinda did, but at least he was willing to talk to you. You had no idea why he was at the house so often nowadays, but once again, it was just one more thing that wasn't your business. 

Were you just cursed to be around mysterious jackasses your entire life? Probably so. 

“For the record,” he spoke after you had handed him a bowl and dropped down into a bar chair a couple down from his, “I never ate anything with goat cheese. That shit is disgusting.” 

“Yeah, it tastes like two goats fucking in your mouth,” you snickered. 

Nicholas laughed along with you before the sounds faded away and all that could be heard was your tandem chewing and forks hitting the bowl. 

“Can I ask you something?”

With a sound of acknowledgement, Nicholas nodded. 

“How do you know Noah?”

There was no way the two of them knew each other just from the club because you could've felt the tension between them from another room. You knew history when you saw it. 

“We were friends as kids,” Nicholas revealed. His focus remained down on his food, the fork he held stabbing into individual noodles before bringing them to his mouth. 

“He was always pretty chill, even at a young age. Always the type to problem solve, y’know? But I was the opposite of that, so we didn't really mesh.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Were you just a problem Noah was aching to solve now? 

Nicholas pushed away from the island, the chair again making a piercing sound as it slid across the floor. He went to the large fridge and retrieved a couple of waters, one for each of you. 

“The word ‘insane' is used a lot to describe me, medically speaking. I don't see it but I'm also not the one with a PhD. But I caused the problems instead of fixing them.” Shrugging, he dropped back down into his seat and returned to his food. The way he was speaking so nonchalantly was shocking to you, especially when he was divulging so much information that you hadn't even been forced to pry from him. 

“And Noah doesn't like that sort of thing. He needs order and control. I'm sure you've realized that by now.” Nicholas flashed a devilish grin as he looked at you, his eyebrows playfully wiggling. 

Well, that surely was something you didn't want to talk about with him. 

“Either way, our families clashed and we stopped being friends.”

“Clashed?” You felt bad for asking question after question but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. Every answer he gave only produced more curiosity. 

Nicholas shifted in his seat, that repetitive amused grin overtaking his features. You were getting the same sense that you would from Noah, like something was being kept from you. Something important. 

He didn't speak again until he was done eating, the bowl in front of him thoroughly cleaned of every noodle. You were impressed, to say the least. 

“I'm going to be honest with you because I like you, okay? So listen to me very carefully.” 

Turning in his chair to face you, he leaned in closer, almost too close for comfort. If there hadn't been an empty chair between the two of you, then he would basically be in your lap at this point. You gave a slight nod, that damned curiosity noticeable in your eyes. 

“Do not trust anyone. Not me, not Noah, not Red. No one. Do you get me?” 

You opened your mouth to speak because the confusion you felt was on the verge of bubbling over, but promptly closed it when you figured nothing would quench your hunger for answers. Fuck, you were so tired of dealing with this bullshit already. It was always something. 

“I can tell that you're smart. When I say ‘no one’, I mean absolutely no one.” 

“Why should I believe you now then?” You challenged, brows raised. 

Nicholas smirked, slowly nodding. “See? I knew you were smart, just as I said.”

X X X 

Some Top 40’s pop song drifted through Melinda’s apartment a couple of nights later. You sat on the floor of her living room with your back propped against the couch, a pink coffee table in front of you which held a couple of different wine bottles atop the surface. A wine glass was also within reach but you had pushed that aside after the first pour and started drinking straight from the bottle. Melinda had arched a brow at you but hadn’t voiced her concerns. At least not yet. 

Your nerves were causing your fingers to tremble to the point that not even alcohol could calm them. Why? Because you were on the verge of telling Mel everything. The confession had been right on the tip of your tongue for the last hour but you'd always chicken out at the final second and drown out your words with the overly sweet wine you preferred. 

You didn't want to drag her into this. You'd never forgive yourself if she was harmed because of you. But you needed someone to lean on that wasn't Noah. Not because you didn't appreciate his willingness to help, but because he was edging dangerously close to the line in the sand you had created. Plus, Melinda was your best friend and you desperately needed her. 

“Whoa there, tiger,” Mel laughed as she made to reach for the wine bottle you were currently tipping back. “Why don't you take a breather and tell me what's wrong?” 

Damn, where were you even supposed to begin? You were on the run from your own father, had been forced to change your identity, and now had a few unknown men hunting you down to kill you. Not to mention the fact that you were involved with some James Bond secret service type of guy who had a killer smile, was a great kisser, and also gave you butterflies. Oh, and how could you almost forget to add that you had killed your ex-boyfriend? 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You looked up from where you had been heavily focused on the pattern of the brightly colored rug beneath you, just to see Mel staring at you with wide eyes and her mouth dropped open. 

Wait…had you said all of that out loud? 

Your hand immediately smacked over your mouth but the damage was done. The words had been vomited out. Melinda heard every single one. 

“What?” You finally squeaked out, though your voice was muffled within your palm. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?” 

Hesitantly you shook your head, your hand slowly lowering back down to your lap. You had to clamp your hands between your thighs to stop them from noticeably shaking. 

“Your dad always gave me the heebie jeebies but what the fuck? What. The. Fuck.” 

“Why do you think I showed up on your doorstep with barely a day’s notice, asking you to call me by a different name?” 

Melinda’s brows pulled together as she briefly fell into a deep consideration over your question. “I don't know!” She finally exclaimed, her hands thrown up in defeat. “I thought you had finally just cracked or wanted to be someone else here for fun!” 

“Thank you for going along with that, by the way,” you hiccuped, now smiling at your best friend despite the deadly serious topic. 

“Hold on. Hold up. You killed Vane? Like…dead? He's gone?” 

You sheepishly nodded as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. How did you justify what you did without fully going into all the details? 

“He wasn't a good person, Mel.”

“Did he hurt you?” She quickly cut in, her jaw clenched in preparation for an outburst they both knew she was about to have. 

Heavily sighing, you gave a single nod. “Everyday.” 

Sexual, emotional, and plain ole physical abuse had been your day to day life not so long ago. A waking nightmare you had no choice but to endure. It was honestly amazing that you hadn't thrown yourself off the Golden Gate Bridge instead of escaping across the country, although you had contemplated it more than once. The abuse had ended but the scars remained, most mental but some physical. 

Tears began pooling in Melinda’s eyes, her lower lip wobbling. “Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have left you. I would've…I would've taken you with me. What the fuck? Why would you hide that from me? How did you even hide it?” 

Well, your buzz was officially gone. 

“You know how Vane was. He never would've let that happen.”  Yeah, that pretty much summed it all up. 

While Melinda wasn’t unfortunate enough to spend extended periods of time with Vane, she had still noticed how horrible of a person he was. He never tried to hide it, no matter who was around. Vane was proud of the fact that he could scare people. He found his power within it, just as your father did. 

“Your dad…” Mel shook her head, all the information being too much for her to process so suddenly. Though her sadness had quickly flipped to anger. “I'm going to fucking kill him. I'd do the same to Vane if you hadn't already had the honor.”

“My dad doesn't know where I am.” You paused, your lips twisting in thought. “Well, he didn't. I guess he does now, though. Y’know, considering the guys that are after me.” 

While you were sure those were Vane’s men, you could assume your father now controlled them since their previous leader was dead. That probably made it worse. They wanted to avenge their beloved late boss while also following the orders of one of the most corrupt men you knew - a bad combo. 

“Noah has been helping you though?” 

You snorted a laugh as you brought the wine bottle to your awaiting mouth again. “Yeah, just look outside.”

Sitting in a dark SUV directly in front of the apartment building was Jackson, the guy Noah had put on the rotation of keeping an eye on you. He had requested to come into Mel’s apartment with you but you threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't sit in the car and wait. You must've been somewhat convincing since he obliged. Reluctantly, but you still considered it to be a win. 

“Okay, I'm seeing a guy smoking and staring at us. Should I be worried or?” 

“No, it's his shift to watch me. Noah is very…thorough apparently.”

Melinda looked back at you with a wicked smirk, her tears now long gone as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. “Just how thorough are we talking?” 

You groaned as you rolled your eyes and held a middle finger up to your friend. “I wouldn't know about that. We haven't done anything more than kiss.” 

“Are you suddenly the Virgin fucking Mary? What's the hold up?” 

You stared at Melinda with an expression that read ‘are you fucking serious?’. A few seconds passed as you waited to see if she would see the error of her question but your best friend was none the wiser. 

“I've kinda been distracted with the big as fuck target on my back, Mel.” 

“Shit, you're right. Sorry.” She shook her head after lightly hitting the side of it with the palm of her hand. “Okay, but you've at least felt it, right? Because I just know that man is working with something great.” 

How the hell had you gotten onto this topic? 

Your response to Melinda was in the form of a side eye and a shy smirk as you brought a newly opened wine bottle up for a swallow. “Maybe,” you shrugged. “Let's just say he's very proportionate.” 

It would've been impossible for you to not feel exactly what he was “working with” the night he had you pressed up against your apartment door. You still thought about how hard he had gotten and the way it felt when he rolled his hips between your open thighs. The sounds he had made were the perfect cherry on top. It had actually been on repeat in your head that very morning when you were showering while your fingers just so happened to be assisting in getting you off. 

“Fucccckkkk,” Mel groaned as she tossed herself onto the couch behind you. “I love a tall man. And he's, like, soooo tall. Those hands? You're lucky.” 

“We aren't talking about it!” It was already bad enough that Noah was still holding out on you. You were willing to bend over for him anytime, any place, but he still hadn't even kissed you since that night. Maybe there was a flirty comment here and there, but that's where it stopped. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't interested anymore. You couldn't say you blamed him considering all the baggage you came with. 

Just some thoughts you were doomed to have again and again. 

“When did you become such a prude?!” Melinda teased, lightly poking the back of your head. 

“I'm not a prude!” You quickly defended as you shot a glare at her from over your shoulder. “I just don't want to talk about his dick!”

Well, you hadn't wanted to until you finished off another glass or two worth of wine. Once that happened you were completely free to blab about anything. You leaned over Melinda’s coffee table not even half an hour later, a fit of giggles constantly escaping you as you doodled yet another comically large drawing of a dick. Mel was doing the same on the opposite side of the table, but she had opted to place a little cowboy hat on the head of her dick picture. Scattered on the tabletop were other little drawings of cocks, each one with their own personality. 

“Oh god, no!” You gasped, feigning terror and covering your eyes as your best friend held up her newest creation for you to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over. “I'm just imagining it saying ‘yeehaw, buckaroo’ when I get down on my knees for it and that's terrible!” 

“I would dry up like the goddamn Sahara.” 

You erupted into a fit of laughter that had you falling back and grabbing your stomach. It was like you had never seen or heard something so funny before and you had all the alcohol to thank for that. 

Somehow you managed to hear your phone ringing over both yours and Melinda's cackling which sent you stumbling across the living room to grab it from where you had dropped your things hours ago. You didn't even look at who it was before you were answering in a sing-song voice. 

“Hellooo?”

Noah’s voice came through immediately, his tone stern as he said your name. 

“Where are you?” 

“Well, Mr. Grumpy Pants, I'm at Melinda's still.” Laughter cut through your response as Mel turned the drawing vertically and pretended to make it dance amongst the sea of other crudely drawn dicks. 

“Are you drunk?” 

“Maybe…just a little bit.”

Noah could be heard heavily sighing from the other end of the call and for some reason his annoyance had you giggling to yourself. 

“I'm coming to get you,” he stated after taking a deep breath. 

“What? No! I'm fine here. Plus, your little watch dog is still outside.” Steps were taken to the window so you could look down at where Jackson still sat. He was in his car now but his eyes were looking up at you. If you thought Noah was annoyed, then Jackson was on the verge of blasting off to the moon with only his aggravation fueling him. 

“It's after two in the morning. I'm coming to get you.” 

Noah parroted himself which only let you know that he was holding back what he truly wanted to say. It was a good thing you found it kinda hot when he got angry or else he really would've been killing your mood. 

“Don't be such a fun sucker!” You laughed, both at Noah and the newly drawn dick Melinda was holding up to you again. This one looked like a mermaid, complete with a seashell bra. 

“I'll be there in ten minutes.” 

The call then ended and you could only roll your eyes. 

“See?” You motioned to your phone as Mel arched a questioning brow. “I told you he's always so tense.” 

True to his word, Noah was knocking on the apartment door ten minutes later. Jackson was no longer posted outside, more than likely relieved of his duty as soon as Noah had pulled in. 

Melinda answered the door wearing a large grin and holding up her drawing of a princess cock so it was the first thing Noah would see. You could barely make out the furrow of his brow from behind your friend, but just that was enough to send you spiraling into another fit of laughter. 

“Welcome!” Mel beamed with glee. 

“Is that…a dick with a crown?”

You were then on your feet and approaching your best friend, your own amused smile seen from over her shoulder. Noah’s eyes shifted to you and you briefly felt bad for how tired he looked. The long hours at Nocturnal were clearly getting to him. 

“It's actually a tiara,” Mel corrected. 

“Do you not like it?” 

“It's…great,” he sighed, figuring that agreeing would help move this along faster. “Are you ready?” 

“No,” you shook your head, eyes once again rolling as you turned to grab your things. “But I guess I'll have to be.” 

Okay, so maybe you turned into a bit of a brat when you drank too much. There wasn't really much more to it than that. 

Noah stepped into the doorway and immediately began to assess his surroundings. His eyes squinted when he found all the dick drawings on the coffee table, as if trying to make sure he was really seeing it. 

“Is this what girls do together? Draw dicks?”

“They do when they're not getting any,” Melinda murmured under her breath before sending a wink your way. 

Your eyes widened slightly but you ignored her comment and instead slung your bag over your shoulder in a dramatic show. Noah’s jaw was clenched as you approached him, again wearing a wide smile all thanks to your beloved wine. He was very much unamused but you knew he wouldn't be able to stay mad at you for long. 

After saying your goodbyes you were trudging along beside Noah, only slightly struggling to keep pace with his long legs and eager steps. Your humming was all that sounded between the two of you, the silence becoming a bit of a concern. Maybe he was actually mad this time. Fuck. That made you feel like a teenage girl being picked up from a party by her dad. 

Gross. 

“You know,” you began after hitting the ground level and Noah made sure you were secure in the passenger seat of his overpriced car. “I didn't ask you to come get me.” 

“Can we not do this? It's been a long night and I just want to get home.”

You had never been good at keeping your mouth shut when you were drunk, so his plea was met by deaf ears. 

“I told you that I don't need a body guard. I would've been perfectly fine staying over at Mel’s.” 

Noah’s jaw further tensed and his finger tapped against the steering wheel as he pulled out of the apartment complex and drove down the road at a much higher speed than the posted limit. You didn't even want to look at him but you couldn't stop yourself because, well, he was always a sight to behold. His sleek all black clothing told you that he had only just left Nocturnal despite going in before noon, so that explained his heavy lids and the dark circles forming beneath his eyes, as well as his less than desirable attitude. 

Man really needed some time off. Maybe a nice vacation where he could get some sun and relaxation. You held onto the fantasy of being right there with him on a beach, both of you with a coconut cocktail in hand. Maybe you would even get him to rub sunscreen on your bo–

“And then I wouldn't have been able to sleep because I would've been up all night worrying about your well being.” 

Well, there went that perfect fantasy. Normally his words would've made you swoon, but with your drunken state you were borderline furious. Again, you hadn't asked for any of this. All you wanted was for him to keep your secret. Noah was the one all gung-ho about keeping you safe as well. So why did you feel as if you were being punished for it? 

“But why? I've managed to keep myself alive before we even met, and I'm sure I can continue to.” 

Noah huffed a chuckle while shaking his head. “You have no idea who you're up against.” 

“Oh, I know exactly the kind of men that are after me. Did you forget that I was surrounded by them for years? Believe me, King, I fucking know.” 

His head was quick to whip around to stare at you, fury flaring in his eyes. You knew you were being an idiot for pushing his buttons but you for some reason couldn't make yourself stop. Maybe you were just a glutton for punishment. 

“What did you just call me?” 

You heavily exhaled through your nose, your lips pursed and your eyes set forward on the mostly empty road ahead of you. “You heard me,” you shrugged. “You want to wear your Nocturnal mask outside the club? Then I'm going to call you by your Nocturnal name.” 

It was rather obvious that he was fed up with your antics but he continued to press. “What are you talking about?” 

Noah stepped a little too hard on the brake as the car approached a red light, sending your body jerking forward ever so slightly. You cut your eyes at him and adjusted your position in the seat before answering. 

“The fucking mask you wear when you're at the club. King and Noah are not the same.” 

He laughed. He actually fucking laughed, the kind of laugh that had him gripping the steering wheel tight between both hands as he leaned back to lessen the pressure on his stomach and rest his head against the seat. You didn't know why it was so funny to him but you didn't currently care enough to ask. 

“We're very much one in the same, sweetheart. You don't think ‘Hot Neighbor’ would shoot a man through the head to keep you safe?” There was now a devilish - yet also mocking - smirk pulled across his lips and you weren't sure if you were scared or turned on by it. What the hell was wrong with you? You knew Noah was dangerous. He had probably killed more people than you could count on both of your hands and while you didn't like to think about that side of him, you still knew it was him. That wasn't lost on you as he seemed to believe. 

And if they were one in the same, as he claimed, then why was he so taken back by you referring to him as his Nocturnal persona? 

“King would and so would Noah, both without a second thought. Know why?” 

With the red light still glaring through the windshield, Noah reached over to grip your chin. His fingers were gentle despite the argument you were having, but he still used enough force to turn your head to look at him. It was nothing like the brutal jerk Vane would've used and had many times. Back then you would've flinched from Noah just extending a hand towards you, but now all you wanted to do was lean in closer to him. 

“Why?” You murmured, his eyes staring directly into yours with an intensity that made you press your thighs together. 

“Because I'm Noah and I'm King. There wouldn't be one without the other. You know what else?” He was slowly closing the distance between your faces, his hand releasing your chin only to trace down your neck before loosely securing his long fingers around the base of your throat - something he had a habit of doing. The gesture was possessive and you knew immediately that your panties were soaked. 

Noah didn't wait for you to respond before he handed you the answer. “I care about you and my main mission right now is to make sure you. Are. Safe.” 

His lips were then crashing against yours in a hard kiss that had your heart pounding and your breath stalling in your lungs. This man definitely didn't half-ass anything. The sensations that coursed through your body from a mere kiss were electric and practically made you putty in his hands. It didn't last for long, though, because the traffic light was soon turning green, but Noah still gave your neck a squeeze before he was pulling away and focusing his attention back on the road. 

Well, fuck. 

An hour later you were freshly showered and sitting up in Noah’s bed. Neither of you had spoken since your argument in the car except for when he asked if you were hungry upon entering his apartment. You declined his offer of food, leaving him to fix whatever he was in the mood for as you opted to stand beneath scalding water instead. 

Noah’s words kept replaying in your head on an endless loop that was causing a headache to form behind your eyes. Well, maybe it was all the wine you drank too, but that was beside the point. Was he truly willing to shoot someone for you? Not just to wound them, but actually shoot to kill? The thought alone made you shiver and you pulled the blankets up over your legs to help rid yourself of the chill. 

Vane never would've killed someone for you, but he surely would've because of you. He looked at you as property with his name branded everywhere, whereas Noah wanted no harm to come your way because he cared. While you were aware of their similarities, they were still drastically different and you hated that your mind kept wanting to compare the two. 

“Just going to grab some clothes and shower.” Noah softly spoke as he entered his room and immediately went for the dresser. He retrieved a random graphic tee from the top of the pile and then a pair of gray sweatpants, his eyes shifting to you when he slid the drawer closed. 

“Okay,” you barely whispered, your fingers twisting around strands of your wet hair. 

“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asked from where he stood in the doorway between his bedroom and the bathroom. He had almost closed the door separating the two but turned around at the last second to blurt out the question. 

Lifting your gaze to meet with his, you gave a hesitant nod. 

“I know the sooner the better but I'm exhausted and need to sleep.” 

“It's okay,” you sheepishly smiled. “Talking tomorrow is fine.” 

Honestly, you hated “talking” but you weren't going to deny Noah of what he wanted. You also didn't know what he wanted to talk about and that obviously piqued your curiosity. Could be your living situation or whatever this relationship was you two shared, or possibly even things about Nocturnal. No matter the topic, you had no reason to turn him down. 

With a single nod, Noah shut the bathroom door and a few seconds later you heard the water to the shower cut on. Taking in a deep breath, you turned off the side lamp and shimmed down into his bed, shifting around until you were comfortable. Or as comfortable as you could get. You still felt odd with Noah sleeping on the couch and it had been so long since he was in his own bed that it didn't even smell like him anymore. The comfort you previously held onto when wrapped in his blankets was gone and you feared you missed it. 

“I can hear you tossing and turning from the bathroom.” Noah was tugging on his shirt from the now open doorway, allowing you a quick glimpse of his heavily tattooed torso. You didn't try to avert your gaze elsewhere because that would've been a travesty. He deserved to be admired. If only you could do it with both your eyes and hands. 

How much time had even passed since he went to shower? You could've sworn it was only a couple of minutes but it must've been much longer than that judging by how steamy the bathroom was. Noah clearly liked his showers extra hot just as you did. 

“Will you sleep in here tonight?” You dropped your arms down to the bed with a defeated sigh and gave him the saddest look you possibly could. 

“I really don't thin–”

“Please, Noah?” You cut him off, the desperation heavy in your voice. It wasn't because you were going to try anything - you already knew having sex the first time and being drunk was off the table - but because you needed him close. You hated that he spoke to you as if you were the most important person to him currently, but then constantly distanced himself. 

It fucking hurt and had your mind reeling in all directions. 

Noah didn't respond, but he did step forward and lift the blankets enough for him to slip beneath. You slid over to the right side of the bed, allowing him ample space so that you weren't crowding him. Once he was settled, you were both laying on your backs and staring up at the ceiling. Silence again drifted between you. 

“I fucked up,” you then admitted. 

The first time you were sharing a bed with Noah and you were not only drunk, but you were also going to ruin it by spilling your guts. Hopefully only in a metaphorical sense and not actually. Thanks, wine. 

“I told Mel about…what's happening.” 

“Shit,” Noah breathed out. You didn't have to look at him to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose. He had a way of doing that when he was frustrated. 

“I just…was tired of keeping it from her and I needed someone to talk to about it. No offense.” 

“No, I get it. She's your best friend.” His fingers drummed along his chest, soft thumps that you could barely make out. “I can't be upset with you when I did the same thing.” 

Yeah, you were still a little irritated about him telling Jolly, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. Maybe it would be for the best in the long run. 

Needing to talk about anything else, you opted to change the subject. “Do you work tomorrow?” 

“No, it's my one day off since we're closed on Sundays.” 

“Maybe we can go by my apartment? There's things I need to get that I forgot.” 

For example, the thousands of dollars beneath the floorboards of your closet. You didn't know how you were going to explain that to Noah but you didn't like just leaving it there. You needed to have it within reach. 

Noah yawned, but you could see him nodding his head through the darkness. “Yeah, that's fine. We’ll swing by.” 

You were tempted to say something else just so you could hear his voice a bit more, but the sound of his breathing evening out let you know that he was drifting off to sleep. Turning your head to look at Noah, your eyes now mostly adjusted to the dark, you were transfixed by how perplexed he appeared. How could someone still be so tense even when sleeping? 

Frowning to yourself, you carefully turned onto your side so that you were facing him. Your upper body angled just enough until your cheek was ever so slightly resting on his shoulder. There were a few seconds where you thought maybe this was an odd thing to do - cuddling up to Noah as he slept - but the shift of his hand onto your bent leg immediately caused those thoughts to dissipate. Your heart skipped a beat, a fluttering starting in your stomach that you could only blame on those damned butterflies. Weren't you too old for those? Your body clearly thought otherwise when it came to him. 

Finally, the calming scent that was just so Noah eased you back into what you could only consider to be tranquility. An intoxicating mix of mint and pine. Your thoughts slowed, the weight on your shoulders lifting, even if for just a night. Whether Noah was truly asleep or simply faking it, you didn't care. If it was the latter then that meant he wanted to comfort you however he could in the moment. But if he was actually asleep? Well, that only meant you eased his mind just as he did yours, so much that he was seeking you out while unconscious. 

X X X 

Don't trust Noah. Don't trust Noah. Don't trust Noah. 

Trust no one. No one. 

Nicholas’ warning was what swirled through your brain the following morning. You were silent as you stared down at a sleeping Noah, his head somehow finding your chest in the middle of the night, that being where it currently still rested. You never would've pegged him as a cuddler, but alas, he was cuddling you. 

If you were to trust no one, then how were you expected to trust what Nicholas had said? It bothered you that he hadn't given you any reasons as to why you shouldn't trust Noah or Red, specifically the former, but since Nicholas had known both much longer than yourself, then maybe you should heed his warning. Or at least take him seriously enough to be on the lookout for yourself, right? 

It was just so hard when Noah was like this. His body was radiating a heat into yours that you only wanted to dig deeper into, his scent still clouding your senses and easily becoming your new favorite indulgence. He was your favorite indulgence. Fuck, you were so screwed. Allowing your eyes to drift away from him, you instead focused them briefly on the ceiling. You had only been awake for maybe ten minutes and Noah hadn't moved a muscle since. This didn't surprise you considering how utterly exhausted he had appeared the night before. He was clearly due for some sleeping in. 

Just as you were closing your eyes to attempt another hour or so of sleep, you felt Noah’s fingers gently massaging into where they rested at your side. Was he awake? Or simply dreaming? You remained unmoving, opting to wait to see which option it could be. Only when you felt Noah shift a bit did you realize he was awake, but barely. He took in a deep breath, his shoulders rolling into a stretch, though his fingers continued to gently squeeze and rub down to your hip. 

“You're awake,” you whispered through the silence. You had expected Noah’s hand to stall but there was no hesitation in the way he touched you. How he was always so confident in everything he did, you would never know. But damn did you want to learn from him. 

“Mhmm,” Noah barely hummed a response. His cheek nuzzled into your chest, the warmth of his breath wafting across your breast and immediately causing your nipples to harden beneath the shirt you wore. One of his again, which Noah seemed to like. He had stared at you for far too long the first time you emerged wearing his clothes, explaining that you had forgotten to grab pajamas in your haste to pack a bag. He had zero objections. 

With your heart beginning to pound within your chest, you blushed. Noah without a doubt could hear the effect he had on you and maybe that's what urged him forward. The hand he had on your hip slipped beneath the fabric of the t-shirt to begin rubbing slow circles across your bare skin, working his way up at a tantalizing pace that had you pressing your thighs together for even the smallest amount of relief. 

“H-how did you sleep?” Fuck, that was embarrassing. You were already stammering over your words just from him touching you. Obviously you were touch starved, especially from someone you actually wanted to feel, but you didn't want it to be so embarrassingly obvious. 

Chills formed along your skin in the wake of his wandering fingers. He stroked along your stomach and over your waist, up to the valley between your breasts, and then over to tease the only one he could reach in this position. Your eyes fluttered closed as a fingertip circled your nipple before giving it a small pinch, just hard enough to force a whimper from your lips. Already your body was on fire with the need you had for him. An anticipation that had been building up since the very moment you laid your eyes on him only a few short months ago. 

Shit, was this how you were going to have him for the first time? Your hair a mess and with unbrushed teeth? At least he wasn't trying to kiss you, though you were sure you wouldn't be strong enough to reject it if he were to try. Not to mention how stopping him so you could go brush your teeth would completely ruin the moment. So, you were going to try not to think about it. Just as you were trying very hard to get Nicholas’ voice out of your head as well. 

Noah deeply inhaled as he palmed your breast, gently kneading into the mound. His short nails pricked your sensitive flesh, just enough to have you arching up against him in a desperate yet silent plea for more. As if being able to hear what you wanted, Noah released you, but not before giving your nipple another pinch and a firm tug. His hand was then traveling back down your body, curving over your hip to find the band of your panties. The shirt you wore had been long enough to cover everything, so you never even thought to further clothe yourself when Noah had crawled into bed with you. You were thankful you hadn't because you didn't currently want to deal with awkwardly shedding the layers. 

A shiver raced down your spine when his fingers dipped lower, making a slow trail between your thighs, but still over your panties much to your dismay. On instinct your thighs fell open and Noah immediately cupped your pussy with enough pressure to make your clit throb and your hips roll into his touch. You swore you could feel the way he smirked, obviously pleased with the reaction. 

I can't get enough of the way your body responds to me. Isn’t that what he had said only hours ago when he had you pressed against your apartment door? 

“Please?” You whimpered as he began to stroke his fingers along your pussy, pressing up against where he knew your clit to be every time he made it back to the top, only to return to featherlight touches again. Your head was already spinning and you were going to go crazy if you didn't have some sort of release soon. 

Noah, on the other hand, seemed like a patient man, the type who wanted to draw out your pleasure, but you could sense he was just as eager as you right then. Was that also his hard cock you felt pressed into your side? 

As silent as ever, he merely pushed your panties to the side and finally touched you in the ways you had been fantasizing about. He actually groaned when he felt how wet you were for him and his hips jerked forward slightly, but it was more than enough for you to have your answer. That was definitely his cock you felt and you swore it was even harder than it had been mere seconds ago. 

He began to circle your clit slowly, every slip of his fingers making you softly moan and your chest rise and fall faster. Already you could feel the pressure building within you, your hips writhing under his touch, seeking out more. You had one hand gripping his shirt in your fist at the middle of his back, the other doing the same to the sheets. You were trying your best to keep your body under control, but it was impossible when Noah was touching you. He made you feel things no one else ever had, and to think he had barely even had his hands on you. 

The sudden pressure of his fingers sinking into you broke your train of thought. Your head fell back against the pillows and your hips rolled into his hand, forcing those two long fingers of his even deeper. You didn't want to control yourself anymore. No, you wanted to fall headfirst into Noah and whatever this was between you. You could trust him. Nicholas just didn't know what he was talking about. 

As your thighs trembled around his hand, you opened your eyes so you could glance down to watch his tattooed fingers disappear again and again. He pumped them into your pussy at a steady pace, curling them just right to have you begging for more. “Don't stop,” you gasped, your hips twitching every time the heel of his hand ground against your swollen and needy clit. 

Noah was reaching depths in your cunt that your own fingers couldn't and you felt nothing but bliss because of it. Your walls fluttered around his fingers and tightened more the closer you were to your orgasm. Even Noah’s own breath was coming in soft pants along your chest, his cock rubbing against your side. You so badly wanted to reach into his sweatpants and have him cum in your hand, but he had made it clear that this was about you. 

You pouted when he pulled his fingers from you, just so he could play with your clit some more. He pinched and rubbed the nerves, just as he had done to your nipple, though now with more vigor. You gasped and moaned his name, the tight circles he made nearly sending you into a frenzy. Right when you felt your end coming, he stopped, forcing his skilled fingers back hard into your dripping pussy. It was all too much. The pressure was becoming almost painful as you chased your release. 

Noah kept his fingers buried deep inside of you, no longer thrusting, but instead stroking along that golden spot in a way that had you seeing stars. Your body tensed and your thighs closed around his hand the very moment you shattered. Every nerve in your body went off at the same time, your pussy convulsing around his fingers and tightening like a vise to keep him in place. You scratched at his back, your nails sinking in deep, uncaring of the wounds he'd be left with. 

You were sure you also yelled out his name in the midst of your release. Possibly a few times. 

How the fuck was he so good with just his hands? He didn't even stop as your orgasm raced through you, his fingers still working you to the brink of insanity so you could ride out the pleasure. Your body trembled and your legs shook, your hips still moving against his hand so you could rub your clit along his palm in the most intense way. When your legs finally stilled and loosened from around his hand, Noah then slowed the pumping of his fingers. He eased out of your still fluttering pussy and you whimpered in response, every inch of you now overly sensitive. 

Noah raised up over you, his eyes finally greeting yours. He studied your face, which you knew was flushed, your eyes heavy but bright thanks to that amazing wake up. His lips formed into a faint smirk before he looked away to instead admire his fingers that were glistening with your arousal. You again felt his cock twitch against your side but he seemed unconcerned by it. 

“Good morning,” Noah said for the first time while carefully untangling himself from you and slipping off the bed, his fingers at his mouth as he cleaned you off of them with casual yet hungry swipes of his tongue. 

That image would forever be burned into your mind. 

“Morning…” you breathlessly murmured, watching him disappear into the bathroom. Not before noticing the rather large tent that was in his sweatpants, though it wasn't like he made any attempts to conceal it. God, he was always so confident. And from what you could see, he had every reason to be. 

You weren't sure how long you stared at the halfway closed bathroom door, but when Noah finally emerged again, the tent in his sweats was gone and he looked your way with a well rested smile. Unfortunately, you couldn't return to the smile, because you had grown more and more confused the longer you had sat alone with your thoughts. 

“What was that?” You were no longer shaking, finally, your body settled back into its natural state. This meant you weren't tripping over your words anymore when trying to exude even an ounce of the same confidence Noah had. 

Noah arched an inquisitive brow while pulling his anime graphic tee from his body. With his sweats sitting low on his hips, you were graced with the perfect view of his bare torso. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, your gaze slipping down his body without shame. You wanted to trace every tattoo he had with your tongue and find out which one made him shiver the most. Fuck, he had ruined you just from making you cum once. 

“What was what?” He went to the closet to retrieve a plain black t-shirt from the mass of other black clothing. You assumed this is where he kept his Nocturnal clothes. On the opposite side of the room from his regular day to day clothing…interesting…

“That,” you motioned back towards the bed behind your shoulder, your voice stern since he wanted to play dumb for whatever reason. “You're just going to finger me and then act like everything is normal?” 

Noah’s brows knitted and he paused, the black shirt he held still clasped in his hands. “Are things not normal between us now?” 

He seemed genuinely confused and, okay, maybe you felt a little bad about it but you were also confused. Weren't you? No way were you making this weird…right? That was a damn good question he had asked, though. 

“No. Yes…I don't know.” 

Setting his shirt aside, he took light steps until he was standing in front of where you still sat on the bed. Noah extended a hand out to gently stroke your jaw before his fingers shifted through your messy hair and then stalled at the back of your neck. Your eyes were set up on his, your heart again beginning to race due to how close his half naked body was to yours.  

Noah leaned down, his lips barely brushing yours with every word he spoke. “I'm not going to act like it didn't happen, if that's what you’re worried about,” his eyes searched yours. “Believe me, I wouldn't be able to ignore the way your tight pussy squeezed around my fingers even if I wanted to.” 

His nose lightly brushed yours before he captured your lips for a tender kiss. It didn't last for nearly as long as you would have wanted, but you knew it was for the best so neither of you got carried away. You already wanted to rip his clothes off and have your way with him after the way he just spoke to you. It made your thighs clench and your lower stomach do a flip. 

“And the way you taste?” A groan rose to the back of his throat, both of his hands firmly holding your face again. “So fucking sweet and perfect.” His lips again fell to yours, the pressure behind the kiss easily would've made your knees give out had you not been perched on the bed. Your fingers danced along the bare skin of his chest and stomach, just as you had dreamed of doing, as your tongue moved in tandem with his own. His mouth still tasted just as amazing as it had the night before and you were immediately addicted. You needed more. 

Unfortunately, Noah had other plans. He slowly pulled back, both thumbs ghosting over your cheeks before he released you completely. A small step back was taken, giving himself enough room to pull his black shirt on, as well as black jeans after losing his sweatpants. 

“I have to do a couple of things and then I'll be back. You'll be okay, right?” 

Of course you would be. It wasn't like you really had a choice, though. 

“I thought we were going to my apartment?” 

You stood from the bed and stepped up to him, your fingers trailing the length of his arm. You didn't want him to leave, but you knew he had something with work to do despite claiming it was his day off. 

“I'll only be an hour or two and then we’ll go. I promise.”

Nodding, you allowed Noah to pull you in closer so he could then press his lips to the top of your head. You responded with a gentle smile because while you didn't want him to go, you weren't going to be childish and beg him to stay or ask if you could tag along. There had to be some separation. You knew this. 

“Jackson will be outside, okay? He’ll be here in seconds if anything happens, especially if you don't answer his check ins.”

Yeah…you were pretty bad at that, but only because you had a terrible habit of leaving your phone lying anywhere and everywhere. 

Noah called out his goodbye to you after you had flopped back against his bed with full intentions on going back to sleep. What better way to pass the time than that? Unfortunately, sleep never took you. Not completely. You had dozed off here and there, but eventually you awoke after only half an hour and decided to shower. Also, you couldn't believe you had let Noah kiss you without you first brushing your teeth. Ugh. 

After your shower, you dressed in black leggings and another one of Noah’s shirts. You had clothes to wear out and about, but there was something about wearing his that made you feel safer. They were also extremely comfortable and smelled like him - two of your favorite things. Dropping back onto the couch, you let your mind melt away for a bit without whatever television shows you could find. You even attempted one of Noah’s animes he loved so much, and although you didn't understand what was going on, you still found it entertaining. 

Nearly two hours had passed when you looked at the time on your phone for the fifth time. Not even a text from Noah? That was odd. 

Pulling up your messages, you went to the one labeled “GUARD DOG 1” and began to type. 

YOU: Nothing from Noah? 

A few seconds passed before the gray circles appeared to indicate Jackson’s typing. 

GUARD DOG 1: He got pulled away again. He should be leaving shortly. 

Ugh. So much for getting to spend a day with just him. 

GUARD DOG 1: Need anything? 

YOU: No, I'm good. Want a mini pizza? 

GUARD DOG 1: I've got a PopTart and some chips. I'm set. 

The couch is where you remained for another hour. Then another. You were becoming angry at this point. Mostly because he couldn't even spare a second to message or call you himself, but had Jackson doing it every half hour. You kept telling yourself to not be mad because he was working. But what the fuck could be so important at a nightclub that he left you for so long after making you a promise? 

When another thirty minutes drifted by, you had had enough. You pushed away from the couch and slid your shoes on, then began to rummage through your bag until you found the keys to your apartment. If Noah wasn't going to take you, then you would take yourself. The only reason why you had asked him to in the first place was because you knew he wouldn't want you to go alone. He never wanted you to go anywhere alone anymore. 

Simmering in your anger, you exited the safety of his apartment and made a beeline for your own. There were two routes you could take: outside across the small courtyard that connected to the sidewalk that separated your buildings or you could go up a few floors and take the breezeway. You opted for the latter because it didn't run the risk of Jackson seeing you. You had put that guy through enough already. 

You politely smiled at other tenants when they passed, a few with familiar faces and some not, though they didn't appear to be any sort of threat. You hated that this was how you thought of people now, constantly wondering if they were employed by your father and after you. Maybe you should leave the city. Wouldn't that make it easier for everyone? Something told you Noah would never allow it now, though. And if you ran away in the middle of the night, wouldn't he just be able to find you? That thought caused your stomach to flip again. Something about it made you shiver, but not with fear. 

Pushing all of those thoughts aside, your steps began to slow as you approached your apartment. It didn't take you nearly as long to unlock the door as it had the night before, simply because you didn't have Noah pressed into your back and kissing your neck. Honestly, that was kind of a bummer. Taking in a deep breath, you held it in as you gently nudged the door open. The disaster remained just where you had left it, the creeping silence making it all the more terrible. 

“Fuck,” you murmured to yourself during the first step inside you took. You opted to leave the door cracked, just because that connection to the outside world for some reason made you feel safer. You knew it was ridiculous, but what did you care? 

“Ignore it all,” you continued to whisper to yourself. You weren't here to inspect the damage or wallow in your pity. You came for one thing and you needed to remain on task so you could get in and get out as quickly as possible. It would be a few minutes before Jackson would call to check in again, so your goal was to be back in Noah's apartment by then. 

Rushing back to your bedroom, you flung your closet doors open and immediately went for an overnight bag on the top shelf. Quick. You had to be quick. You dropped to your knees, fingertips grazing the hardwood until you found the floorboard you had pried up many times before. You dug your nails beneath the wood and repeated the same motions until the wood edged up enough for you to slip your fingers beneath it. It was hollow in this area, for reasons unknown to you. Maybe another tenant had hidden things in the same spot in the past. 

You lifted another board to give yourself enough room to retrieve the opaque container you had the money stashed away in. $300,000 to be exact, money you had stolen from Vane after your fight to the death with him. You always thought large amounts like this would be impossibly heavy, but the bills fit easily into your overnight bag and weighed no more than seven or eight pounds. Who would've thought? 

As you were loading the money into the bag, you heard the creak of a floorboard. The sound immediately had you on alert. Your motions stalled, your eyes wide, ears listening out for any other sound. No other noise came, so maybe you were just imagining it. It was your anxiety getting the best of you. Shaking your head, you continued with the task at hand as fast as you could. Bundles of fifties and hundreds were shoved into the bag one after the other, again and again until your fingers were brushing the bottom of the container. 

Finally, you had it all. 

You carefully placed the container back beneath the floor and replaced the boards to their rightful location. The last one had just slid into place when you heard the same creak again, followed by what sounded like shards of glass being stepped on. 

“Hello?” You called out, your heart pounding within your chest. It was from both the adrenaline and the fear you now felt. “Jackson?” 

No answer. Just another piece of glass scraping against the floor in the living room. 

“Noah? Is that you?” 

No, he knew better than to sneak up on you like this. He would never do that. He would've yelled your name as soon as he stepped into the apartment. 

With shaky hands you hauled the bag over your shoulder with all intentions of running to the front door. When you looked down the hallway, though, there was a tall, dark figure in your path. You froze, fear coursing through your veins. That wasn't Jackson or Noah, but instead a person you had wished to never see again. 

This man was taller than Noah, with broad shoulders and thick arms. He was bald, which you were easily able to make out even in the distance that separated you, intricate tattoos covering his head. His name was Hawk, one of Vane’s right hand men that did all of his biddings, no matter how horrible. He had been present for many of Vane’s atrocities against you and now there he was, standing in your apartment. 

“You're a very hard girl to find,” he breathed, the joy he got out of this evident in his tone. 

“That's typically how it goes when trying not to be found,” you shot back while reaching for your phone in your pocket. 

“I wouldn't do that,” Hawk took a step forward. “Or else your little guard downstairs is going to get a bullet through his head.” 

“Don't you dare,” you spoke through gritted teeth, your eyes narrowing at this monster of a man. 

Hawk laughed, a few more steps then taken towards you, which you took the same amount backwards. It wasn't like you had anywhere to go unless you wanted to jump out the window. It would surely end in your death but that was better than being at the hand of Hawk and whoever else was waiting for you. 

“What do you want? The money? You can fucking have it.” You shrugged the bag off your shoulder and dropped it to the floor, allowing him the chance to snag it. Hawk didn't even look at the bag, though. His sights were set firmly on you. 

“You think he gives a shit about that money? No, baby, he wants you.” 

Of course your father didn't want the money. He had enough to last multiple lifetimes and then some. 

You fell silent, both you and Hawk staring each other down, daring the other to make the first move. It would be easier for you to escape now that you didn't have the money on your shoulder, but fuck, it was going to hurt having to leave it behind.  

Without a thought you ran for the mountain of a man, your body easily dipping below the height of his arm as you squeezed by him. Hawk reached for you, one large hand securing around your waist and pulling you down with enough momentum to send you falling to the ground. The wind was briefly knocked out of you and you remained on the floor, desperately trying to gain a breath while ignoring the pain in your back where you had landed. 

“You should've made this easy for both of us,” he snarled, his large form standing over you, a foot on either side of your hips. 

You coughed a few times as your lungs ached to expand, your eyes frantically searching for anything littering the floor that you could protect yourself with. You figured it would be simple since your apartment was a mess, but what were you to do with little pieces of glass and pillow stuffing? 

“I have to bring you in alive, but he didn't say anything about unharmed.” 

Hawk leaned down and gripped your shoulders to force your body up. You then quickly shoved your hand into his face, a palm full of broken glass pressed into his skin. You twisted and turned your hand, ignoring the pain that you were inflicting on yourself at the same time, all to embed the glass as deep as you could. Hawk yelled out, blood now dripping down his face, but it wasn't enough to make him fully lose his concentration. 

No, he was still coherent enough to send a fist flying into the side of your head. Your body met the floor again, blackness dancing before your eyes on impact. You were briefly dazed, just long enough for Hawk to find his bearings and begin reaching for you once more. 

“No!” You yelled, your hands hitting against his, your legs kicking beneath him. You needed to fight him off however he could, even though deep down you knew he was going to take you. That didn't mean you were going to make the task simple. “Get away from me! He's going to kill you!” 

Hawk tossed his head back and laughed as soon as he had your wrists pinned down above your head. “Who's going to kill me? That pretty boy you've been spending your time with? I can't say I'm scared, baby.” 

The sound of your phone ringing cut through Hawk’s laughter and you both paused. It only took a couple of seconds for you to begin squirming again, desperately trying to pull a hand free so you could answer the call you knew had Jackson on the other end. It was time for your check in. 

Your knee collided with Hawk’s crotch, leaving him stunned. He huffed out a heavy breath and his body tensed, giving you just enough time to force your foot into his knee with a crack, sending him rolling to the ground. You grabbed your phone from your back pocket, the screen broken from the fall you had taken, but you didn't care. You could still see that it was Jackson. 

“Jackson!” You yelled as soon as you accepted the call while trying your best to pull yourself to your feet. Hawk was right behind you, though. His hand secured around your ankle and you again met the hardwood floor with a loud thud. 

“I'm coming up!” Jackson hollered. How did he know where you were, though? He would go to Noah’s apartment under the assumption that you were still there, unaware of your little field trip to your home. By the time he realized it, you knew you'd be long gone. And what about the threat Hawk had made against him? Was it a bluff or was there actually someone downstairs with his gun trained on Jackson? 

Before you could warn him, the phone was ripped from your hand and thrown to the ground. Hawk ground his boot into the device, rendering it completely useless. You could feel tears welling within your eyes, though you weren’t sure if it was because of the blood you could taste in your mouth or because you were about to be kidnapped. Maybe it was a nice combo of both. At least you knew your father wouldn't kill you…or so you were hoping. 

“You fight back more than you used to,” Hawk taunted with an evil smirk as he turned your body over. “He's going to love that.” 

Before you could make another sound, Hawk’s heavy fist slammed into your face again, and you were left with nothing but a shock of pain and then overwhelming darkness. 

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[baby-greatness]

We’re on the same accord about saying the n word in front of the 141, I’m saying it directly to the captain when he mildly pisses me off. I’m saying I’m tired of fuck niggas to ghost when a man is pissing me off. I’m never stopping!

cw : n-word, cussing, poorly written Tf141 secretary—I know nothing about military operations and I also refuse to learn!

Note ; I barely proofread this because I've been sitting on it for ages and I wanted to put it out. I still think it's funny though :)

I can imagine John getting all up in arms in his subtle little way, lecturing you about the way you do something you're positive you already know how to do. You try to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe he had a bad day! Maybe somewhere inside him he feels the need to nitpick because his team hadn't followed his instructions and it nearly costed them their lives. Maybe he just needed to feel like someone, anyone, was listening to him.

He's usually so good about not bringing any of that energy to you—you're just the sweet, quiet little bird sitting at a desk, filling in the blanks in an effort to save him and his team some time. (And a bloody headache.) You think it's this quietness that has him angling himself in your direction, subconsciously recognizing you as someone who will actually heed his warnings—maybe because you don't talk much. It's not like you can, you're always too busy drowning in a sea of papers.

It's not that it's all that hard hard, it's just tedious, and him barking at you in that glorious timbre is taking away from your time to finish up. Which! Would cause a massive backup, mind you! You have a system to keep everything going out on time. It ran smoothly, efficiently, kept your workload manageable—this was a hatchet wrench in your carefully curated machinery.

And if he goes on too much longer the whole lot of you would be in trouble.

Before you even realize it, you're nearly fifteen minutes into his lecturing and you simply can't take it anymore, this was not part of your jooooob—

"Nigga."

Your tone is all exasperated 'nd huffy. And he stares at you for a good long time while your shoulders slump. Maybe he misheard you, but it was such a specific word—one that he himself has never been called—that he doesn't know what else it could've been that you'd just said to him. It's a little jarring, to say the least? Especially coming from his favorite, quiet little bird who didn't really talk, let alone cuss.

So he squints at you and his brows furrow, lips pursed like you're about to be in trouble. You don't exactly mind. He's very handsome, even when he looks so perplexed and stern.

He's not angry—not yet, at least. He's more concerned. No ones really said that before to—at him? Was that allowed? Was he allowed to be called that? There's a pregnant pause between the two of you as he stares you down and you stare right back.

".....Pardon?"

"Nigga!"

He shouldn't be surprised when you respond without hesitation. The look you've had on your face for the past five mintes says it all and he knows he should've stopped talking at least seven minutes ago. He's surprised anyway. Culture shock, you think.

He thinks he's going to be in trouble somehow.

A Captain. In trouble. Because his sweet little bird of a secretary used a word he'd never—and in his direction no less! It doesn't escape him entirely that it was a sigh of exasperation, though, he doesn't exactly get how it's used. He's heard the word used to address people, not as a slur but just in general. You know? An expression that means "I know and like that guy!" type shit. This? He's never heard it said like this. Not at him, anyway.

You give him a shrug, brows raised, articulated the word real slow, just as much exasperated as the first time because you damn sure weren't ashamed of saying it a second.

You weren't one of his little gun slingers, you had nothing to do with the violence and the weapons and the secrecy (besides your obvious NDA). You, my dear, are a glorified secretary at best and no way in hell was he gonna keep you here for longer than you would be getting paid. You had set hours for a reason. Captain or no captain, this could not continue.

"You're just tryna' take care of business, I respect that! But you've been talkin' for damn near twenty minutes and that's stoppin' me from doin' my job. I'm tryna go home, Price. I got stuff to do!"

"You... you can't say—"

And you chuckle. He loathed how his cheeks flushed when he hears you chuckle. God, you gave that man butterflies. Furious, active butterflies in the very pit of his gut, batting their stupid little wings against his stomach lining—and you just grin at him! The audacity of you to exclaim such a thing and take the opportunity upon his innate shock to giggle with that bloody voice.

"You can't say that, I meet the requirements. Come on now, John. If you don't got no papers for me, kindly walk away from my desk."

And Price—well, he stands there and he stares at you. For a good long time, too! For a moment you think he's going to scold you, and for a moment he thinks he's going to scold you too. But he can't quite figure out what he'd be scolding you for since his team swore like sailors. Is this swear word more of a swear word because half his team can't say it? Is it more inappropriate because of its history? Was it reasonable to demand you don't use the same language his team used constantly?

"Watch your language."

That's all he can manage. And you grin as you carry on, eyes downcast as you ponder your new super-power. You wonder how many times you can get away with it before he has to talk to you about it. You wonder if he would ever talk to you about it—and you figure that he probably wouldn't!

Unfortunately for him, you're willing to test it out.

[livingfiction]

AARON, TT, PARASOCIAL, AND SO ON IMMA SAY THIS AND LEAVE IT ALONE...

This is a lot so bear with me, but also ppl over here don't mind reading

So I've been gone for a few days and I come back to see there are some arguments, negativity, and a lot of venom in general being spewed about Aaron and TT's alleged relationship or whatever. Now, let me start this off by saying everyone is entitled to their opinions. We all have them about celebrities that we love and follow. There are times that we disapprove of their choices, especially their choice of partners. And that's fine. But lets all remember we don't know these people (hello Jonathan Majors) and we don't know Aaron personally. We can watch a million interviews and dissect every little movement and motion this man does and we can "learn" him as much as we want, but WE DO NOT KNOW THIS MAN. And I'm sorry to say this, but honestly I would have rather he popped out with a white woman cause the commotion and frenzy he and TT have caused is beyond ridiculous. I even made a post about this when she posted those pictures and EVERYBODY came out the woodwork on the internet (except here of course) to talk about how all of it was a marketing ploy to "rehabilitate" his image with black women because obviously he doesn't like black women (mind you this is based off that one picture of him and that one white woman). And now we're on here and apparently TT is too aggressive for him and he likes women that are softer and more feminine??? (and idk where that assessment came from)

[ Side note: I do find it funny that ppl are saying that about TT as black women are often thought by default to be more aggressive, angry, and masculine in comparison to non black women and ESPECIALLY in comparison to white women. And ppl have been saying he prefers white women AND "soft" feminine women-which white women are thought to be more of in comparison to black women so🤷‍♀️...very interesting to say the least]

Also apparently TT is to ghetto and hood yet there have been plenty of jokes made about Aaron being from the "hood" in London, now granted their hoods are most definitely different, but hood dudes do tend to love hood girls so once again 🤷‍♀️😂 Now idk TT's personality cause I don't keep up with her and have not tried to dissect her personality. I think her and Iman had a show at one point and I may have seen a clip or two but I can't really tell you too much about her besides the basics and that she look good as fuck. She may be ghetto, aggressive or whatever else but shit ain't nobody holding a gun to Aaron head and forcing him to interact with her, Idk what they have going on because honestly I felt like ppl jumped the gun with pics but whatever it is whether it be BF&GF/ Friends/ Fuck buddies, acquaintances, PR couple(still don't believe that but whatever) Aaron is a 30 year old grown ass man and he's capable of making his own decisions. Some people are coming across like jealous ex girlfriends and as much as we joke about this man being our husband and boyfriend we DON'T KNOW THIS NIGGA, have never been within 100 ft of him.

And tbh I shouldn't be surprised this is happening, cause when male celebrities have large female fan bases it tends too. I mean look at the One Direction boys (even now), Justin Bieber, shit even Prince Harry! I remember people on here saying that the only reason he was with Meghan when they started dating, was because he had mother issues so he chose a woman that was nothing like his mother and he was just having fun and trying something different to distract from the pain and it wouldn't last--fast fwrd to 8 yrs of marriage and two kids later (yes they was coming up with some crazy shit) No woman will ever really measure up or be good enough to the fan that knows their fave celeb apparently better than they know themselves. Hell even Lori Harvey, the quintessential soft feminine, and high class black woman wasn't good enough because apparently she's a clout chasing gold digger ( despite her coming from more money than anybody she's ever dated and her being a constant trending topic before she LITERALLY ever opened her mouth to utter a word). In case anyone is confused I saw comments claiming she said no, when someone suggested she date Aaron, because he wasn't rich or famous enough ( I made a post about that too I think) .

[Sidenote: I wasn't aware that people thought that Lori and MBJ were a PR couple too because of that whole rumor about MBJ not liking black women , WHICH AGAIN ppl seemed to have pulled that out of their asses. Till this day I have no idea where that came from. Idk if its a pattern but it seems like the only time an A-list black male celebrity dates a black woman is if it he's trying to pander to black women so he can keep collecting our money despite not liking us 🤷‍♀️]

At the end of the day Aaron is a grown man in control of his own life, including the dating and career parts. If shit starts to go side ways or off the rails professionally that's on HIM and his team. He's in control of his own destiny. We all are in my opinion. And I genuinely don't give a fuck who he's fucking or dating...for real or for fake. I'm not trying to defend TT or their relationship or whatever but I'm damn sure not going out of my way to tear her down or whatever they have. All in all this shit has gotten ridiculous.

I'm just enjoying the community we built, the love and admiration we have for him, and the bonds we've built with each other. Lets just fucking laugh and read awesome stories written by these amazing fucking writers and everybody fucking relax!!!!

Thank you. That is all loves ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[serpentface]

So much interesting lore lately I love it! I especially enjoyed the lore friendly wardi meal you made <3

Something I've been thinking about is Hibrides and Couya situationship, does it reach the physical stage or is it purely messy feelings? How would Janeys react to it?

Honestly went back and forth on that because like, part of the deal is Hibrides is unsure whether she's Really interested in her, or is just desperate for attention from someone she finds hot and is also blatantly interested in her but not in a way that makes her super uncomfortable. And also is tired with having basically no social life outside of the orbit of her stupid husband and his stupid family. And at this point down the line she's got some pretty intense levels of nervousness about intimacy and is kind of only comfortable (in a sense of the word) having sex with Brakul, who she isn't even attracted to but it's like, familiar, she does Trust him in the sense of being confident in his intentions, and there's no further lines that can be crossed and very little left to ruin. These conditions don't apply to her husband's partly estranged sister who she's barely ever interacted with until recently.

But yeah I don't want the story to be romance focused but this Is the only background slowburn shit, and of the current draft I've gone with 'yeah they can manage to fuck at some point' on the basis of 'love wins'.

Couya has had a semi-latent crush on her for years, which was never really that big of a deal but it comes to a head since they're traveling in the same party and at routine close quarters for the first time in their Lives. It starts to get distracting from her job and her burgeoning convictions that she's God's chosen to ensure the renewal of the land and Its spirit and etc. Like damn my prophetic dreams involve me eating her out what does it all mean.

I wouldn't describe Hibrides as having had a past interest to the same extent (she had a crush on FAIZA for a really long time), but she's been Curious about her and kind of baffled by her since they met 13 years back, and she is definitely her type physically. She's always been a little fascinated by how little of a shit Couya seems to give about what anyone thinks of her. Kind of unsure whether she's the most self-assured person ever, or is just really rude, or there's something wrong with her.

Couya does initially win her trust because her natural propensities for social interaction happen to be a highly effective Hibrides Befriending Strategy: making absolutely zero moves and barely speaking to her and not even really looking at her much and just going about her life while existing simultaneously in Hibrides' immediate vicinity until there was naturally something to talk about.

They have a lot of spare time to spend together like this and gradually get to know each other. They're both going through it, with Hibrides just feeling kind of desperate to re-exert a sense of control over her life and Couya being in a Dark Night Of The Soul, and both of them are very deeply spiritually disturbed by the implications of the drought and distrustful towards the Amanti dynasty. These factors all combine into them becoming friends and confidants, which eventually escalates drastically into them plotting a coup and also theyy can bang a little in there somewhere.

Here's two related sketches that I can post

[lastoneout]

I know you meant well, and I understand the sentiment. But addiction is legitimately an issue with ADHD meds, and it is very very possible to become addicted to Adderall or other stimulants even with ADHD. I do agree that it is too tightly regulated, but I do think regulation is important, at least until there are more social changes and social programs that provide enough of a safety net to help with addiction. Thanks for listening, and I hope you're doing well ❤️

I appreciate it, but out of curiosity do you have a source? I've been researching this as best I can and I have not found anything backing up the claim that people with ADHD are at risk for addiction to their ADHD mediation. Lots of stuff saying people with ADHD are more prone to other kinds of substance abuse, especially when under-medicated or just not medicated at all, as well as lots of people with ADHD saying they used to have substance abuse problems before they knew they had ADHD and stimulant medication is what helped them recover. There are also loads of studies showing that being medicated from a young age actually drastically reduces your risk of developing a substance abuse disorder later in life.

When it comes to abusing stimulant medications it seems like the main issue there is people taking more than they were prescribed or taking it incorrectly, which is a problem obviously but is true of most prescription meds? I have been taking my methocarbomol wrong for like a month beause I misread the bottle, and I have to have a lot of pill organizers for my meds because my ADHD makes me forget I've taken them and if I forget I will take too much, but tbh at that point I'd figure they just need a higher dose and aren't getting it or need to pay more attention to the labels on the bottle, but I'd love to hear from those people and learn what their motivation was and what happened.

Looking at all my sources the general consensus continues to be that people with ADHD are at a such a low risk of becoming addicted to their stimulant medication it's barely worth talking about. To contrast that, the only sources I've found that do insist you can get addicted are private, for-profit addiction help centers(and randos on Quora) and I'm sorry, they have a very high incentive to convince people they have addiction issues and are very prone to lying(one page I found claims that a sign you're addicted to your ADHD meds is "not feeling alert when you don't take them" as if that's not just...what ADHD is?? and another says trying to refill them early is a sign of abuse when in reality not being able to refill them before you're completely out means we go days or even weeks without the medication due to pharmacies being slow or not having it on hand, it's not a sign of addiction to not want to have to go off the meds that make it possible for you to live your life), so I do not trust them as reliable sources. Not even kidding, no matter how I word it, when I search on google or duck duck go if a person with ADHD can become addicted to their own medication the only thing that comes up is for-profit addiction help centers and every page is full of blatant misinformation about ADHD that would take like two seconds to fix if they actually cared about anything other than making money.

On top of that, a lot of pages talking about this seem to be confusing needing a medication to treat your serious medical condition with being addicted to it. If you claim that someone with ADHD is addicted to their meds because without them they have trouble sleeping, can't focus at work/school, and that stopping cold turkey makes them feel awful then you just. You don't understand how ADHD works or what an addiction is. People with ADHD don't crash when they lose access to their meds because they were addicted, they crash because they have a serious medical condition that requires treatment and the treatment has stopped. Same shit if I was denied my inhaler while having an asthma attack to like prove I'm faking(which also does happen and gets children killed). Not sleeping, doing poorly in school or at work, being late all the time, not eating, feeling confused and tired? Those are symptoms of ADHD, not signs of addiction, and medication helps because you need it, not because it gets you high.

Also, according to a doctor who writes for ADDitude magazine(which tbh isn't perfect, but nothing is) says there have also haven't really been any studies on long-term stimulant use in people with ADHD aside from ones on being at a higher risk of addiction to other substances in folks with untreated ADHD, which doesn't mean there isn't some issue we don't know about for ADHDers specifically, but when looking at people who take stimulants for narcolepsy it seems like there are absolutely no long term negative health effects of taking a stimulant mediation THAT YOU NEED. Obviously if you don't need it you can get addicted and it can hurt you and if you have like...idk an allergy to it or a heart condition or the meds just aren't helping/are making things worse we should look at other options, but if you need a stimulant medication and don't have a medical condition that can be worsened by them, then it's completely safe and the risk of addiction to the medication itself is so small it's not even worth talking about or bringing up. Like everything coming up on this subject is talking about people with ADHD being prone to addiction to other things like opioids or alcohol, not their medication, and when they start the medication it helps them stop abusing other substances because they don't need them anymore, and all of the resources I can find on adderall addiction are aimed at helping people who do NOT have ADHD who are abusing the drug to get high or lose weight or do better in school.

I've also seen TONS of anecdotal stories from people with ADHD saying they wouldn't try to get high on adderall or any other stimulant medication because it doesn't get you high. Instead it makes you feel like complete shit and it's a waste of the already hard to access and very expensive meds we need to function, so there's no point in even trying to abuse them. And that's a history I share, when I started adderall they put me on WAY too high a dose and I just felt...eugh all the time. Too high a dose(or drinking too much coffee) gives me very bad brain fog and exhaustion and I disassociate and altogether just makes me feel like garbage, but when I got on the correct, lower dose all of that went away. I can't imagine trying to get high on them, I've been high on other things before(weed, opioids, benzos, benadryl) and that is NEVER what it feels like and it's not fun or relaxing or enjoyable, it just sucks. (Or well, the benadryl high also sucks, but still feels way more like a "high" than taking too high a dose of adderall and I could see someone doing it on purpose for fun, I cannot possibly fathom someone with ADHD enjoying taking too high a dose, the experience has no redeeming qualities.)

Anyway, I do appreciate you being nicer than the last person, and I'm going to keep doing my own research, but so far there is quite literally ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I can find anywhere I've looked that suggests that getting addicted to stimulant medications when you have ADHD is common or even remotely likely to happen and is certainly not something anyone with ADHD needs to worry about. Still, I would love to see the sources you or anyone else have on the topic, because from where I'm standing this seems to be something that the average person or doctor doesn't need to be worrying about at all and the scaremongering just leads to people with ADHD suffering for no reason at all and being terrified of seeking help that would dramatically improve their lives with very little actual risk.

Edit: Also, yeah we should have better health resources for people who do become addicted to substances, but waiting to loosen the regulations around adderall based on unfounded claims that the people who need it are at risk of becoming addicted to it is getting people with ADHD killed ALL THE TIME because of how our conditions puts us at monumentally higher risk of injury, accidental death, and addictions to substances that actually harm us. I said it before and I will keep saying it, I would rather 1000 people get high on adderall than ever have a single person who truly needs it go without. We are being killed by this logic, our lives are proven less valuable than the lives of people who don't have ADHD and I will never support that. Decriminalize all drugs I am not and have never in my entire life been joking about that. When denied meds we need people turn to unsafe drugs and alcohol and then we die. Giving people who need medical help medical help is what prevents drug OD deaths. Everyone I know who has turned to street drugs did so because doctors refused to help them, I use marijuana to treat my insomnia because my doctors refused to give me sleeping meds due to the belief ambien is worse for me than never sleeping, and tons of people with ADHD suffer of addiction to dangerous and risky drugs from unregulated sources and they all say adderall is what fixed it. Denying us adderall is infinitly worse than just fucking giving it to us and not acting like a fucking Protestant obsessed with suffering to prove our virtue or whatever.

There is no argument for denying people the meds they need that isn't rooted in racism(the war on drugs, misconceptions about non-white bodies), misogyny(self-explanatory), transphobia(self-explanatory), and ableism(again, self-explanatory). Why should we, the people who are having our lives ruined all to protect abled people, have to sit down, shut up, and get treated like criminals to get the treatment we need, if we are granted it at all? Who on earth does punishing us like that help??

People with ADHD should not be collateral damage in the push to protect poor, precious abled people from maybe possibly getting addicted to adderall. That's wrong and it always will be.

[delulu4anime]

Maniac

Ch 14 ➧“I Do” Pt. 2

Parings ➧ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴄʜᴜʙʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary ➧ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴜɴᴀᴠᴏɪᴅᴀʙʟᴇ. ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴀʟʟ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Trigger Warnings ➧ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ.

Word Count ➧2ᴋ+

Taglist ➧@lady-of-blossoms @dekusdante @fortunatelyfurrygiver @birbwithhat @whippedbyikemen @sleepykittyenergy @i-love-ateez @choppersworlds-blog @emochosoluvr @linaaeatsfamilies @sexys-archives @stxrlingpearl @swoozleee (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴍᴋ❣︎)

As you left out the front door you heard Satoru call out for you and the anxiety of having to face this head on was eating at you. You had hoped that you could make a quick escape and save the confrontation for after you could ball your eyes out, alone, in the safety of your home. You kept walking to your car with your heels in your hand as the cool concrete walk way pressed against your feet. You heard the door open and close but you kept your eyes straight ahead. Satoru called out to you again and grabbed your arm.

"Peach where are you going?" He asked face pulled into a worried expression.

"Let go of me Gojo." You said as he stared at you in confusion at the use of his last name. Something you haven't done in months.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he tried to place his hand against your cheek but you moved away before he could.

"What's wrong? I don't know maybe the fact I just found out from your ex-wife that you were still seeing one another till recently." You said as you snatched your arm away from him. "She showed me all the text where you begged multiple times for just one more night of fun. Even on the day of the surprise party you were texting her. Is that what you needed to 'move things around' for when I asked for us to host it that Saturday?" You snap out as you started to walk again.

"You wanted to fuck her and pester her about going to the wedding with you and when she told said no you came up with the bullshit story that you were waiting so patiently to ask me to go with you." You called out over your shoulder.

"What are you talking about? I never went to go see her that day." He said which caused you to turn around.

"Do you think I believe you? You're so good at looking me in the eyes and lying through your fucking teeth."

"Look I don't know what Hina told you but we've haven't slept with each other in months." He said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I sure hope not since we've been together the past seven months." You sassed which caused him to sigh.

"Peach you know what I mean. I have had no desire to be with her especially after getting closer to you."

"Cut the shit Gojo. I'm just a rebound for you and you know it. You'll just get bored with me after all this is over and run right back to her." You said as your grip on your heels tightened.

You felt your body tremble and you weren't sure if it was because you were angry or terrified with the impending outcome of this situation. You watched as his eyes that were filled with worry turn darker. He looked angry.

"Do you actually believe her? Do you believe that she was showing you any of those text out of the kindness of her heart. She brought my ex best friend to the wedding for fucks sake," He said as he stretched out his arm as if to show Geto standing next to him. "She's fucking with your head like she always does because she's a miserable person."

"She showed me proof! Regardless of the intention behind it there's no denying what I saw. I'm tired of being a joke to you" You shout.

You had enough of this. He wasn't going to admit that he yet again was trying to play around with you the same way he did ten years ago.

"Peach please just listen to me. You know that's not true," He said as he tried to follow you. "You're just confused and-"

"Oh fuck you!" You cried out as tears started to fall rapidly down your face. "How dare you say that to me. I'm not confused. I was never confused. I fucking loved you Satoru." You wept which caused Satoru to stop in his tracks. This was the first time you had ever seen him speechless.

"I loved you so much it made me sick. I tried for fucking years to try to convince myself that you couldn't possibly be capable of doing those horrible things to me. You couldn't possible see me as nothing but a joke yet watching you say nothing and having the audacity to flaunt your relationship in front of me proved other wise. After that I vowed I'd always hate you because you couldn't possible have a heart." You say as yourself tremble uncontrollably feeling the familiar heartbreak hit you harder than it ever had before.

He just stood there staring blankly at you as you watched his cheeks turn to the lightest shade of pink.

"But then you slithered your way back into my life like the fucking snake you are and made me fall in love with you all over again. You made me drop those walls I spent so long building up just to remind me I will never be enough for you," You cry out as you try to wipe your tears on the sleeve of your dress with no avail. "I'm just the fat girl with the dream that someone like you would look at me and see something I couldn't. My mistake." You breath out.

"Please peach," Satoru said as he tried to reach out for your hand. "Listen-"

"FUCK!" You brought both your hands to the side of your face and screamed till your lungs felt like they were on fire. "I always hated that stupid nickname. You never gave it to me out of love. It was given to me by you and your stupid friends to mock me. But this is the very last time you'll make a fool out of me."

You stepped closer to him with your chest pressed against his and your eyes narrowed as the tears that were once warm now turning cold against your skin.

"Let me make this perfectly clear for you. Stay the fuck away from me Gojo. I never want to hear from you again." You said and he flenched at your words. You turned and walked until you stepped on the gravel of the drive way. You spotted your car a few feet away and despite the burn of the rocks against your bare feet you refused to stop to put your heels on.

"Let me just explain." He softly said and you turned to laugh at him. You actually laughed in his face.

"What are you going to say? That you didn't try talking your ex wife into coming to the wedding with you. That you didn't get tired of playing the little cat and mouse game with her so you decided to go after someone you knew would be an easy target. Hina was right about you. You say just the right words to make girls fall for you and once you get what you want you leave. I'm not a fucking toy you can throw away when you get bored."

"I never saw you that way! I really like you. I've always liked you and I wouldn't be standing here trying and begging for you to just listen to me for a second if that wasn't true." Satoru said as he started crying which caused you to stop as your chest heaved.

He paused for a seconds as the tears started to run down his face.

"Peach." He softly said which caused the rage to come back full force.

"I don't believe you. Deep down I don't think I ever believed you. I've never meant anything to you," You say calmly as the tears stopped falling for a moment. "I hate you." You said.

You stared at one another for a moment when you realized that he had ridden over with you to the wedding. You refused to be stuck in a car with him for the thirty minute drive it took you to get from Emi's parents house to your apartment. In thirty minutes he could easily talk you into going back to how things use to be. The lying and the games. He talked himself right back into your life like nothing happened.

"Catch a ride back with that bitch." You said over your shoulder as you turned for the last time to your car.

The gravel continued to dig into your skin but you refused to stop and say anything else to him. He didn't try to follow you which you were grateful for because you weren't sure how much more you could take. Despite your hands shaking you were able to grab your keys out of your bag and unlock the car. You slid right in and threw your bag on the passenger seat. You started your car as the heater kicked on along with the radio playing a happy melody that didn't match how you felt.

You quickly turned the volume all the way down as you pulled out of the drive way. You looked up in your review mirror to a sight that you didn't think could break your heart anymore than it already was. You began sobbing as you watched Satoru sink to his knees and hold his head in his hands. He is just crying over the fact he got caught not because he actually cares about you. He never has. The nagging voice rings out in your head.

But what if he actually does care about you? What if he was going to tell you the truth and set the record straight? The voice of hope speaks out in the midst of the chaos. So many what if's running through your mind but soon you talked yourself into letting that be tomorrow's problem.

For right now all you wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep. The thirty minute drive back to your apartment was nothing but a blur as the numbness started to settle in. You realized you had no one to talk to about this with other than Kento and Emi which you refused to mention to them. This was their special day and for the next seven days after tonight they'd be soaking up their time together as newly weds. The cafe would be closed for the next four days and you'd run the shop by yourself on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.

Against Emi's request, which was to be closed the entire week she was going to be gone, you reassured her that you'd be okay because Satoru offered to help Saturday and Sunday since he was off. You weren't worried about the fact you'd be working alone you were worried that he'd still showed up on the weekend to help you. You sighed to yourself as your grip on the steering wheel tightened knowing you were going to have to reach out to him one last time before you got rid of all the evidence that he had ever been in your life. Part of you was grateful that you'd have the next four days to figure your life out but also dreaded the fact that you couldn't keep your mind busy with work. You knew it was going to be work but you were going to dedicate the next several days to try and heal.

Part of you was angry for letting him get to you like this while another part could only point blame at yourself. You pulled into your apartment complex a little after ten fifteen yet you sat in your car staring at your front door for almost an hour. You knew walking in would only bring back memories of the time you spent laughing and joking together. The way he made you cry out his name on every surface in your apartment. The clothes he left behind after many nights he spent sleeping over even if he had to work the next day because he claimed to sleep better with you next to him.

It was a lie. All of it was a bunch of lies. Now you were left picking up all the pieces of yourself he never intended on keeping to begin with.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2025 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴɪᴀᴄ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴊᴇʟʟʏꜰɪꜱʜ ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

sorry to keep talking about this annoying show. but like. ok. so here's the thing, the thing that at this point is basically the entirety of my ongoing interest in severance. the thing is that in the gemma flashback episode, in my humble opinion, they don't actually do a very good job of selling mark/gemma as a deep and profound love story. in fact they do such a poor job of it that there's a part of me that feels like it simply must have been intentional. outside of their meet cute, the only glimpses we see of their relationship when it was happy are (1) generic wordless dead wife montage shit that could belong to any couple in the universe, and (2) a scene the actual point of which is mark failing to understand who gemma is as a person and gemma being like, "um, but it's fine" (the ant farm scene...). like the OOOONLY conversation they have as two people who know each other that is not related to the infertility thread that shapes the bulk of the flashbacks, the only exchange that is actually in any way specific to these two characters, is mark fucking up. textually, structurally, analyzing this as a viewer, reader, writer, whatever, i'm like, come on they had to have seen what they did there, right? it had to be on purpose. they thought about what to include and they included that and not any scenes of the two of them bonding over nerd shit or whatever. like.... right??? especially since in the darker scenes from their marriage, we, IMO, do not see two people in a healthy marriage going through a difficult time. we see two people basically like... suffering separately in the same house. for the most part, we don't see them looking after each other. we don't see them reaching for each other. we don't see them being comforting or being vulnerable, offering kindness or asking for support. we see gemma lying awake miserable in bed while mark angrily takes apart the crib. to me that does not say "what a profound and deep real adult love." to me that says "if lumon hadn't intervened these people were five years out from divorce, max."

however, it's really tough for me to assess how i think the show wants us to interpret this episode, because so many people on the internet very clearly have interpreted it as a portrait of what real lived-in adult love looks like to the extent that many of them are like "how could anyone care about the relationship between the two main characters of a TV show when there was an episode about his sad wife?" and i mean i do just think this is a widespread case of heterosexuality brain poisoning. but because heterosexuality brain poisoning is so widespread, that means that i also can't rule out that the show's creative team also had heterosexuality brain poisoning and did think they were selling us on a beautiful if tragic love story. i can imagine how heterosexuality brain poisoning would look at the ant farm scene and be like, it's so cute how he got her a present that she hated haha :) and be so preoccupied with the boygirl of it all that they would not stop to think, "but maybe if we're selling this grand romance we should include one (1) conversation indicating how compatible and well suited they were to each other and how deeply they understood each other, to balance this out." i can also imagine how heterosexuality brain poisoning would just look at the inherent tragedy of lady want baby and be like, well basically the definition of love is to suffer and not get divorced, and, again, not consider that if you want to show the strength of a relationship you should consider showing scenes of two people taking care of each other. the more i think about it the more it really gets hard to wrap my brain around the idea that this would all happen by accident. but i also feel like you can just never underestimate the power of heterosexuality brain poisoning, the same force that paired up the two canonically sluttiest characters in the magicians and then decided to give them a bunch of conflict centered around monogamous commitment, LMAO. (that last scene in particular does feel like it's supposed to speak to the idea of how much a person might regret the way everyday stresses make you less present in your relationship once the person they were less present with is gone. and then there's the fact that in the episode we also see gemma asking after mark repeatedly... easy for ME to read as reasonable given her situation even though her marriage sucked but again like ok why is this what you are showing us... what is it communicating when you could have chosen any number of things to display...)

anyway. the reason i can't let this go even though the show at this point has convinced me it is probably all gonna be pretty dumb in the end is that i actually love the idea of a guy moving heaven and earth to save his not dead wife who has been asking about him for two years and then the two of them discovering that actually they should probably get divorced. like how do you come to terms with the realization that you want to divorce the person whose loss completely psychologically decimated you and whose miraculous return upended the material reality of your life and you sure thought would fix all of your emotional problems? how do you come to terms with remembering that the husband that saved you from hell, that you thought about every day you were in there, was also kind of a shitty husband? like i find that actually an incredibly juicy concept. and thinking about reintegration, assuming that ever actually winds up fucking mattering like at all (it sure seems like it will in season 3... but it sure seemed like it would about 4 separate times in season 2 so i'm not counting any chickens yet), what does it do to a person who was in a very normal and increasingly unhappy and distant relationship to suddenly have access to a version of himself who experienced this genuinely life-altering radically invigorating love? a love that actually caused the two people in it to grow together and as people over time even though their time was so bizarre and abbreviated? unlike your love with your wife that mostly just made both of you really depressed? a version of yourself that found real and thrilling happiness in a context that looked absolutely nothing like the things you thought you wanted from life, which, btw, you mostly got and which failed to make you happy? like that's interesting.... to me.

and there's some intriguing resonances here wrt the concept of normativity vs. authenticity and the thing that actually got me to emotionally invest in this show in the first place, which is that a huge chunk of the thematic and emotional thrust of the first season came from the fact that it not only had this unexpected (to me) tender gay love story but that the fact of this unanticipated (to the characters) gay love story was like completely central to the core story being told about these people reconceptualizing themselves and their wants and needs and place in the world and belief about the "society" around them. i was really pleasantly surprised by the subtext (barely) of that plot but then s2 was so dumb in so many ways i forgot about it. and like i'm not saying "mark s/helly r is actually queering straight hegemony" (or... Am i... no i'm not. but it would be funny if i did). but there's the potential for a resonance, like i said, with the idea of love & desire as something that radically changes how you move through the world and see yourself. i mean that resonance is already there for mark s. and helly on their own lol. but it would be REALLY something i think to see that carry into reintegration (which... sidebar assuming reintegration ever does matter i think it will be totally fucking stupid if it plays out any way other than "much, much, much more of an existential mindfuck for mark scout than he is anticipating," whether or not that winds up getting into the gemma stuff. i would actually be very confident that this would be the case based on the petey scenes in s1 but again at this point my trust that the show is going to be "not stupid" is very low.) we have already seen outie dylan take heart from the fact that his innie is kind of a cool badass, but it would be so neat to watch mark scout come into that realization (1) viscerally rather than through a third party and (2) totally against his expectations and his will and his desire to get back to normal with his not dead wife. like that would be really interesting and fun for me. also it would be funny to see the "mark/gemma is the most beautiful love story i have ever seen on TV" crowd [separate from the "i just want gemma to be ok" crowd, whom i do not understand because she is a plot device tertiary character with no personality and it's simply not how i watch TV but whom i basically respect as valid] completely lose their minds about this. but mostly i think it would be a sexy story to tell. and again if i just focus very specifically on the things the show has communicated about mark's actual marriage (including that when he's rescuing gemma he says "we were - we had a life together," as though he can't bring himself to say "we were happy" because they fucking weren't) i would be like, well, maybe... but if i think about the show as a whole (stupid now) then i just don't even know where we're going with any of it so i will refrain from actual prognosticating.

[lav-is-writing]

Hey first of all love ur writing!!

Ronin x reader who has anxiety about him getting caught? I feel like it’s a interesting concept and I wonder how he’d react to it

Don't Worry, Darlin'

warnings: reader is anxious, ronin's kinda being rude :| (dw he gets better <3)

paring: ronin x reader

wc: 556

a/n: hello anon :] i see that you've asked lots of other killerchat writers this (guess we follow the same talented people <3) and I just wanna say that this probably isn't going to be as good, but I hope you like it :3 also lets pretend reader lives near him because I don't know what kind of vehicle Ronin has O_o

(username): but what if they catch you?

(username): What if they find the messages on my end and they find who you are

(goreboy): it’s fine, darlin

(goreboy): relax

(goreboy): i haven’t gotten caught in all these years, why would that change?

You resisted the urge to remind him of, I don’t know, your existence? The way he spoke with such confidence, insisting that he would be fine, it made you both worried and proud. Ronin didn’t want to cause you worry, but a part of you suspected that he wouldn’t tell you even if he was arrested. Why would he? If you got roped in with him, it was to jail with both of you, neither to ever see the other again. If only Ronin was caught, you could visit. 

The thought did nothing to ease your anxiety.

(username):  i don’t want you to get caught because of me

(goreboy): im telling you, i’ll be fine

(goreboy): don’t doubt the devil

Ronin smirked from his side of the screen, amused by your concern. Why would he get caught? Out of everyone in the server, he was easily one of the best ones at covering up his tracks (It would be someone else if you asked literally any of them besides you). Leaning back in his chair, he watched as you frantically typed another message, then deleted it, then started to type again.

He knew your anxiety was bad, especially when it came to him, but he couldn’t help it. It was funny seeing you get all worked up, and at times, he would simply disappear for a while to see what you did. At first, you acted fine, but then Angel reported the frantic texts and calls she was receiving, each accompanied by tears and desperate whispers asking about Ronin.

Guilt would always start to gnaw at him after a bit. Seeing his favorite little writer so distressed made him a bit anxious too (not like he would ever admit it). He would hop back into the server, message a lazy “hey” and watch you explode. 

But this? 

This was something that him returning wouldn’t fix.

(goreboy): how about this

(goreboy): ill come by and stay with you for a bit

(goreboy): then you can see that ill be fine

You agreed, leaving Ronin to pack up what he needed. A toothbrush, some clothes, random shit like a notepad, whatever he thought would be useful. Exiting his house, Ronin walked to yours, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him on the way there. Upon arriving, he threw open the door.

Papers strewn across the floor with messy scribbles all over them. Notes for your novel, most likely. You tended to grow a bit obsessed with it whenever you didn’t have many people to talk to, as you could put yourself in a world of your own creation. Dirty dishes had piled up in the kitchen, electing a sigh from Ronin. He would have to clean that up later. 

“Ronin!”

He heard your voice before he saw you, tumbling out of your room and trapping him in a hug. Tensing, it took him a moment to relax and hold you back. The scent of your shampoo filled his senses as he rested his head in your hair.

“‘M here, darlin’, you don’t needa worry anymore.”

[gothamite-rambler]

Mirage, you're a dead woman!

Dick: Star, I'm so sorry. I didn’t know… I thought she was you, and then we… can you ever forgive me?

Kori tilted her head, studying her boyfriend's expression. Dick’s body language wasn’t defensive or deceitful; it radiated shock, slight terror, and guilt. Except he wasn’t guilty of anything. After a few seconds, Kori closed her eyes and smiled sweetly.

Kori: I was never mad. From how you're reacting, it seems you’re more upset. It’s okay—especially since what this Mirage woman did was not just wrong, but illegal. I’m going to handle it.

Calmly, Kori left the room, with Dick and the other titans trailing behind her.

Dick: Star, what are you doing?

Kori (removing her earrings with a calm determination): I'm going to have a conversation with Mirage about what sexual assault really is. And that impersonating someone else to sleep with their partner is a crime.

She tucked her earrings into her pocket and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

Donna: Do you need backup?

Kori: No. I can handle this on my own.

Garfield (Beast Boy) and Wally West walked down the halls as the group made their way to the holding room Mirage was at.

Garfield: Where are you guys headed?

Donna: Star is going to beat the shit out of Mirage for having sex with Nightwing, but he didn't know.

Wally: That's a crime. That was the context? That asshole!

Garfield (walking off to tell the others): Yeah pretty much... give 'em hell Starfire.

Kori: Oh I will.

Dick: You don't have to do this.

Kori: I want to though, because she took advantage of you. Am I upset that she had sex with you? Yes, but that's not your fault.

Dick: Aren't you mad that I technically cheated on you?

Kori: Cheating is partaking in sexual or emotional relationship acts with someone else while in a relationship. This isn't that and the only one in the wrong is Mirage. I understand you not wanting me to murder the vermin Tarantula, but here I will only make her wish I killed her.

Donna (rolling up her sleeves, walking off): And I’ll deal with Pantha calling you a slut while Kori “talks” to Mirage.

Kori: Sounds like a perfect plan. Dickie bear, having learned about your history, I will continue to protect you. We could be friends, and I'd still do so. If you don’t want me confronting Mirage, though, we can leave. You deserve to choose, because you’re the victim in this.

Dick's eyes widened in surprised at this being taken seriously as it should be.

Wally: I was eavesdropping because I'm nosy, and I say let Kori punch her in the nose at least.

Dick closed his eyes, releasing a relieved sigh. When he opened them, he took Kori’s hand.

Dick: Kori, don’t, like, murder her, okay? I can’t afford to bail you out of jail, and… murder's wrong.

Kori: What’s that thing you and Batman say? Letting them live after you’ve savagely beaten them is punishment enough. If you’ll excuse me…

Kori turned towards the doorway where Mirage was being held and forcefully kicked the door in. She entered with a determined smile. Mirage, spotting Kori, immediately assumed a fighting stance.

Kori (closing the door behind her): We’re going to have a little thirty-minute girl talk. Chat amongst yourselves.

With the door sealed, the room filled with sounds of screams (Mirage's), thrashing, and alien curses. Most the Titans stood by listening into the fighting while Dick stood a few feet away hiding smile by sucking in his lips.

[aingeal98]

I think she would be really bothered that no one thought for a second that shit was not right with her being evil but I don't think she would be outright about her feelings about it instead punishing herself for it

Idk anything that could be done to convince her that she has a place within the family after this though? She certainly has a place when it comes to being a cape but being Cass? Being Cass was nothing but a nicety and now she and them can stop pretending

Bruce and Barbara are especially fun to consider because they're both aware of the extremes she was willing to go to remedy the life she took as a child. Especially Babs who swore up and down wasn’t her fault yet when the time arrived not a peep from either

Her keeping a strong relationship with Bruce and Babs but only when they are Batman and Oracle. My hearrrtttt.

The family dynamics would be sooo shifted like she'd feel so betrayed the only one she'd let even a fraction in would be Tim and even then she'd be hesitant because he saw her in that state and the shame is somehow even harder to handle than the anger. In this au I'd say Steph would end up being her lifeline due to having the very understandable excuse of being dead during the evil arc. Cass would show up and do the work and be cold and professional but she'd flee any time Bruce or Babs tried to talk to her. Steph would be the only person left she'd feel comfortable crying in front of.

Incidentally, seeing what happened to Cass would probably affect Steph's whole return to the family. As in she'd be like wow, OK maybe I'm not the problem. Maybe it's these people who let not just me but Cass down. Maybe I shouldn't be worried about earning their respect and forgiveness because it seems they kind of suck.

Damian arriving at the manor and Jason arriving in Gotham both aware of this mysterious figure who is the best fighter in the family, has a fearsome monstrous reputation and who no one is sure what side she's really on anymore. Both curious and yet what they find is just. The most tired and depressed human being they've ever met, to the point that the boy who literally died and the boy who was raised in a cult are like uh... I don't think you're. Doing ok. Jason wanted to see if she'd be down for assisting his bloody revenge against Bruce and Damian wants to see if she's a threat but both times she's just so miserable they end up slowly backing away and deciding to ignore her.

Until Duke! Duke would be her first real connection with the family outside of Steph. He wouldn't judge her for keeping her distance but would spend time with her anyway because he's curious and she seems cool. And that's how the slow healing arc finally kicks into gear.

I've basically written a whole au here lmao, thank you for the ask!

[silenthillmutual]

since you asked - i want to preface this by saying i am not mad at you, nor is this response just to you but also to other replies on the post. also apologies that this will be long.

i don't think it's very fair to just assume the people saying daniil has bipolar disorder don't have bipolar disorder themselves, especially if you're naysaying it and don't have it either. for the record, i think i'm the one who started saying it, and i do have bipolar disorder. and it's been extremely, extremely irritating to see people - who are, most of the time, far more hostile than the replies to this post have been - accusing me of, i don't know, lying? faking it? - because they couldn't be bothered to ask. this is not taking an interpretation in good faith.

bipolar is, like bpd, still a highly stigmatized disorder that does not get accurate representation. as such, not everyone who has it is going to want to talk about it. (for the record, i have ocd as well, so i am well aware of popular depictions being wrong and what that looks like). i wouldn't say i grew up with a wealth of accurate representations of any of my diagnoses, nor do i think thats changed much over the years.

i don't mind differing headcanons in the least. i've seen posts about dankovsky with did, i've seen headcanons about schizoaffective dankovsky, i see posts about borderline daniil, and i think they're all great... except for the unnecessary amounts of vitriol i see toward the bipolar headcanon. i got less pushback when i wrote about him having ocd, and in my opinion there's nothing in any game to suggest he has ocd. i just wrote it to deal with my own shit.

for reference, mania - not hypomania, but full blown mania - has to last for at least a week. and that's really all you need to be diagnosed with bipolar i. (for bipolar ii, i believe hypomania is at least four days). bipolar disorder also comes with mixed episodes and something called rapid cycling. rapid cycling is when you skip baseline and go from manic to depressed or vice versa.

there is not just bipolar i and bipolar ii, there's also cyclothymia and bipolar nos.

people with bipolar disorder are also at a high risk of things like substance abuse and suicide. in fact, most mental illnesses are at a high risk for this. even adhd is. these symptoms are not unique to any one mental illness. even the intrusive thoughts that make up the titular obsessions in ocd can be found in other disorders like ptsd (alongside suicide, substance abuse, and hallucinations).

anecdotally, i have compared notes with friends who have bpd in the past and my experiences with bipolar disorder are very similar to theirs, both in feeling and behavior. when i brought this up to my therapist, she only begrudgingly admitted that i could have, as a teenager, been diagnosed with bpd. and what this tells me is that the division between these diagnoses is mostly if not entirely made up for insurance purposes. it should not matter what people are choosing to headcanon daniil with, you're only wrong if you think he isn't mentally ill.

The “is daniil bipolar discourse “ … Okay you are free to interpret his mental health through whatever lens you prefer. There is not a correct interpretation. My thoughts are personally his mental health meter to me reads as just a gamified version of bipolar disorder as a mechanic (depression vs mania).

And of course it’s not how bipolar disorder exactly functions in reality but in other patho games you die of starvation in a day which is not how hunger works in reality either.

[random-autie-fangirl]

I drew another Chara- living with the Dreemurrs edition

"The King and Queen treated the human child as their own. The underground was filled with hope."

I don't like this as much as the last one but oh well... I ended up rambling a huge amount in the tag, so if you want details and headcanons about the actual drawing again, you'll have to look pretty far down this time, sorry (Also, I ran out of tags after a while. Tumblr is tired of me, lol. I might reblog this more tags later if I remember what I was going to say.)

[rapidhighway]

Ahahaaaa oh my goddd can you not make "ADHD undereating" and "ADHD overeating" into a competition of who has it worse and who has nothing to complain about, that'd be awesome

[skrunksthatwunk]

how do i tell my roommate that her cat repeatedly pissing on and destroying my things is something that people usually offer to clean or replace or apologize for instead of shrugging off

[multishipper-baby]

Not publishing the ask yet because I want to reply with the playlist but I have to comment on it because

Anon. You just gave the biggest neuron activation.

IT'S 2 AM. BUT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP WHEN I'M THINKING ABOUT THEM.