#but I have a job so that's not a problem for me

[queendearings]

To everyone in the notes hand-wringing about how “but they’re amphetamines!!” YEAH AND THEY WORK. THEY ALLOW PEOPLE LIKE ME TO FUNCTION AND PARTICIPATE IN SOCIETY. I have severe ADHD (when I was tested they asked me when my traumatic brain injury occurred— I’ve never had a TBI, but I tested in such a low percentile of functionality that they were genuinely impressed). I need my medication in order to do any and every basic task required of me as an adult in a society. I have went years without being allowed access to them and during those years I flunked out of college 3 separate times and lost COUNTLESS jobs, I’m very lucky my family could help support me financially or I would have been fucking homeless. All I need to transform me from a puddle of mud into a functioning adult is one little pill, but I have to jump through a thousand hoops— I have driven through the night just to get my hands on a refill script, because in the state I was living in it’s so closely controlled that they can’t fill it electronically, only with a paper prescription.

The fact that I am on these meds now has not only allowed me to find a career I love and excel at, it is also EXPONENTIALLY reducing my risk for early onset dementia/alzeheimers etc. People with ADHD *NEED* access to stimulant medication— our meds are as vital for us to overcome our disability as it is for diabetics to have theirs. Funny thing though— I know DOZENS of people who are not diabetic but are illegally acquiring the diabetes drug Ozempic for the sole purpose of being thin. Why aren’t you crying and hand wringing about that??? Diabetic people are struggling to get their meds because abled people are illegally abusing them, but they don’t restrict access to Ozempic like they do with ADHD meds! Funny how that works isn’t it? You only care about “people who don’t need the drug abusing it” when it’s about ADHD people. Because, let’s be honest, you don’t see us as having a legitimate disability. This was never about drug abuse, it’s about you not seeing us as human beings with a medical need that, frankly, totally fucking matters more than “but what if you’re faking” or “but what if people abuse it”. Either respect our personhood and right to medical care (yes that includes some amphetamines, dosed properly) or shut the FUCK up.

wild how we have a medication that is super effective at treating a debilitating disability but its controlled to hell and back because What If Someone Takes It For Fun like i have an idea who gives a shit

[thebubblesareevil]

Retired hero Danny

Danny has saved the world more time than he could count and they would never know. He didn’t care

Ancients! He preferred it.

He retired from being a hero when the Justice league came into the picture. Ever since he was crowned the ghosts don’t really threaten humanity anymore so he’s more than happy to leave the non ghost threats to earth get handled by the Justice league

He runs a repair shop in amity park, he’ll fix anything and everything at affordable pricing

The only member of the Justice league that knows about Danny is Diana. She didn’t know about him until some enemy trying to summon chronos succeeds and she gets frozen in time

Luckily clockwork has mellowed out over the years and takes this time to tell her how proud he is of his favorite granddaughter following in her uncle’s footsteps.

He did tell her he was retired but would help if it was truly needed.

As far as everyone else is concerned the ritual was a dud

One day a major threat approaches and the team has beaten down time and again. Batman is getting desperate.

Wonder Woman asks to borrow a phone

She makes a call in the meeting room

Danny’s dead device depot: you kill it I fix it, how can I help you today.

“My name is Diana of themascyra. I was told you could help….we have run out of options.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“A new god by the name of Darkseid intend to bring our world to ruin. His army is without end and we cannot hold them back much longer”

“Hmmmm sounds like a tough job” tinkering is heard in the background “ tell you what, get me some of those cookies like yer mom makes. The nutty ones and we’ve got a deal”

“Kourabiedes? That’s it? But-“

“No buts, you just get those started while I take care of this creep. I should be done by the time they cool down.”

The line goes dead.

The team looks at her defeated. Certain that was a dead end, but Diana gets up and heads to the kitchen. If half of what her grandfather had told her was true then she would need to start baking

Meanwhile on Apokalypse….

The doors to the throne room fall to the ground before Darkseid

A large humanoid man stands in the doorway holding a large club like weapon with glowing text on the body

“So you’re the creep that’s been messing with my niece, huh? Don’t worry I have just the thing for creeps like you.”

Later that same day

Danny sits down at the table across from his niece as she tells him all about her friends and their adventures while he enjoys his slightly crispy cookies.

[moonstruckme]

Inspired by this adorable fic by @inkdrinkerworld <3

cw: hospital, mention of surgery, reader has a fear of anesthesia/being unconscious

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 940 words

You wish that stupid heart monitor would stop exposing you to everyone in the hospital wing. 

“You’re fine.” James rubs his palm over your heart consolingly. “Deep breaths.” 

You inhale, and he does it with you, you feel his chest expand against your back. James got into bed with you soon after you got here, when you wouldn’t stop trying to get up and pace the room. After your IV was put in, Sirius threatened to sit on you if you tried to get out of bed again. James is a nicer compromise. 

“This is so stupid.” Your exhale comes out in a disbelieving huff. “I don’t even have to do this.” 

“Dove, you’re already here,” Remus reasons. “You’ve come this far, let’s just see it through. You’ll be alright.” 

Truly, you’re not sure how you wound up here. When your doctor recommended you for surgery, you said you’d think about it, but you were lying. You knew it, your boyfriends knew it, your doctor probably knew it too. Going under was something you had no intention of ever, ever doing. You didn’t know if the problems you were having would persist without the recommended procedure. You almost didn’t care. The one thing you knew for absolutely sure was that you did not want it to happen. 

And yet, it began to. All it took was one evening of lovingly made hot cocoa and sweet-talking from James to get you to set up the appointment. From there, the date marched continually closer, and all your boyfriends had to do was keep you from backing out. To their credit, they’ve had extraordinary follow through. Suddenly you find yourself in a hospital bed waiting for a surgery you could swear wasn’t going to happen. 

“You don’t even have to stay the night,” Sirius says. He’s sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs against the wall, undeterred by the plastic arm digging into his thigh. “We’ll have you home by dinnertime. Focus on that, doll.” 

“I want to be home now,” you mumble. You know you’re acting childish, but you’d rather gripe than cry, and the way you’re feeling those are your only two options. “Are we sure I can’t be awake?” 

“You don’t want to be awake.” James kisses behind your ear. “It’s quite bloody. You’d think it was gross.” 

“Don’t scare her,” Remus cautions quietly. 

You talk over him. “I’d rather be grossed out and know what was happening.” 

Sirius leans forward to grasp your hand, shushing you. “You already know what’s going to happen, baby. We’ve been over the whole thing. Do you want to hear it again?” 

“No.” In truth, hearing about the procedure had grossed you out. But that’s not your main issue. Tears prick your eyes. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. His thumb runs over your knuckles. “You’re okay. You’re going to be just fine. Home by dinner, remember?” 

“I just… “ You pull in a wavering breath. “I really don’t like the idea of being unconscious while people poke and prod at me, and I can’t wake up. It freaks me out.”

“No one is going to poke or prod at you.” Remus is leaning his forearms on his knees, eyes honey soft. “It’s a routine procedure. They do it all the time, it’s their job.” 

“I’d just feel better if I could be awake.” 

“It’d be so much scarier if you were awake. This way, you only go to sleep, and the next thing you know it’s done.” 

“That’s the worst part, though. It’s not like I can wake up even if I want to. I’ll be completely helpless.” 

“Sweetheart, no one is going to hurt you.” 

“I know that.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks gently. 

You shut your eyes, tipping your face down as tears start to drip from your nose. 

“Baby,” Sirius coos. His fingers feel cool against your cheek, cupping so he can kiss between your brows. James hugs you tighter. “Oh, shh, shh. I’m sorry you’re so scared, sweet girl. It’s really not so bad as you’re thinking.” 

“Can you come with me?” you whisper. It’s not the first time you’ve asked, but you’re hoping this display of obvious patheticness will sway things in your favor. 

“You know we would if we could, doll. They’re really strict about who’s allowed in the room.” 

You nod, taking in a ragged breath. 

“We’ll be with you until you go in,” James offers, “and as soon as you wake up. You’ll get to meet your anesthesiologist before, too. Her name’s Kara, she’s a sweetheart.” 

That James knows the person trusted with putting you out does comfort you some. He pats your chest with his hand over your heart, gentle and rhythmic. Slowly, it lulls yours into complaisance. Your heart monitor stops its ratcheting. 

“Breathe.” James exhales slowly. “We won’t let anything happen to you. You’re in good hands, angel, I promise.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, opening your sore eyes. “I know I’m being crazy.” 

Sirius is squatting by your bed now. He tuts, quick to right you. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re scared, it’s fine. I wish you weren’t because it’d be easier for you, but it’s not your fault.” 

“You’ll feel better once you’re in there,” Remus promises. “Really, lovely, it’s so much less daunting than you’re imagining it to be. It’s going to go by so easily. And then we’ll be with you, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. 

“What do you think?” James presses his cheek to your ear, pleasantly warm. “You think you can go an hour without us? You’ll be okay?” 

You make a low, reluctant sound. “Maybe.” 

“There’s our girl.”

[snowysosturn]

Miss Possessive - Chris Sturniolo

Pairing : Boyfriend!Chris x Girlfriend!reader

Summary : You usually don’t mind the attention Chris gets, but when a girl stares for too long, you have no problem putting her in her place.

Warnings : jealousy, possessiveness, toxicity

It's 1 am at the crowded house party, music is thumping, shaking the kitchen floor beneath my heels. I’m a few drinks in as I stand next to Chris, his hand resting on my lower back, making it known he’s mine.

I don’t usually mind the attention he gets, I mean it comes with his job. But Chris isn’t just good looking, he’s the kind of guy that turns heads without even trying. The effortless confidence, the laid back smirk, the way his dark hair falls over his forehead like some artist painted it there.

But most girls admire from a distance. They whisper, giggle, maybe steal a glance too long. But they know better. They know he’s mine.

Except for her.

She’s been circling him all night, her baby blue eyes trailing over his frame like she’s undressing him with her gaze. A little too close, a little too comfortable. And she thinks I don’t notice.

But I do.

So I wait.

And then she makes her move.

Walking toward us to strike up a conversation. She stands right infront to him, placing a delicate touch on his arm, fingers grazing his skin.

Get your hands off my man.

I watch the way she leans in when she speaks, the way her lips curl around her straw like she’s performing just for him. Chris barely reacts, but that doesn’t matter. She’s testing me.

I step between them, pressing my body into Chris’s, my hands trailing up his chest, slow and deliberate. His arm immediately wraps around my waist, pulling me close, but I don’t look at him. I look at her.

And then, she turns to me.

“Oh my god, I love your dress!” she says, her voice sugary sweet. 

I almost laugh. It’s a smart move, acting like we’re friends, trying to get on my good side first. “I swear, I’ve seen you before?” she says, tilting her head.

I blink slowly, pretending to search my memory. “I don’t think so.”

She laughs, a little too airy, a little too performative. “Maybe not, but you have such a vibe. Where do you shop?”

She’s playing the long game, trying to get comfortable, trying to weasel her way into the space between us that doesn’t exist.

Instead of answering right away, I shift my weight and turn around, pressing my back against Chris’s chest, letting my body mold into his like a second skin. He doesn’t hesitate, his arms draping over my shoulders, his chin grazing the top of my head as he pulls me in.

The message is loud and clear, leave me and my man alone.

I glance at her, my lips curling into something just short of a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I say, my tone playful and teasing. “But I don’t think it’d suit you.”

Her smile tightens, but she tries to hold her ground.

I tilt my head slightly, gaze sharpening. “You should go find something else to stare at.. the floor, the ceiling.. literally anyone else in this room.” I pause, letting the words sink in. “Just keep your eyes off him.”

Chris huffs out a quiet laugh against my hair, and I feel the way his grip tightens, his amusement vibrating through me.

She stares for a second, then swallows, forcing a laugh. “I was just being nice.”

“I’m also nice, up until I’m not.” I say smugly, taking a sip of my drink, already bored of her.

She doesn’t have anything else to say. She turns, disappearing into the crowd, and just like that, the air feels lighter.

Chris leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “Damn, baby.”

I smirk, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “What?”

His grin is cocky. “I love when you do that, Miss Possessive.”

I just smile, stealing a sip from his drink this time. “I know.”

a/n: this song has been STUCK in my head since last week, i needed to write something inspired by it

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @m4gz-png @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sturnslux3 @dexterswifey @yourmother29 @trevorsgodmother @yourebeautifulqueen @spaghettislut1 @anonymouslyachrisgirl @lizzysmith110 @lovesturni0l0s

[verdancy-hime]

Sometimes you can.

If people leave you alone to do it, it's easy.

The main reason I can't think myself out of depression or executive dysfunction is because the overwhelming majority of the people in my life throughout my life have wanted me to be depressed and barely functional.

I think about how after years and years of struggle I finally beat my messy tendencies and then this guy I used to talk to started telling me all of a sudden how sexy my messy room was and praising me for photos of it.

I think about how any time my life is stable and going well, some funny little series of coincidences piles up to make it incredibly hard out of nowhere.

Some of those are just coincidence.

Some of them have been my employer that didn't pay me enough or give me full time hours giving me the worst shifts and the worst tasks and switching up my hours so I couldn't get a second job. My boyfriend suddenly getting our joint account garnished by the irs when I finally found a full time job. My boss accusing me of stealing to cover up her own theft. Now the people at my job are intentionally stalking me online and in person trying to make me stressed out all the time. Targeting me at work and pretending that suddenly all the things they used to like they hate now and annoy me in various ways on purpose.

I don't know why.

I'm just not allowed to be happy or stress free.

I'm not allowed to be cute or not in poverty.

I'm not allowed to have a relationship that's not abusive. I tried that for years. No matter what I did, it just turned into being in a hostage situation with a guy who hated me. Only the means of control was different. The idea that I don't want to be around any person who doesn't treat me well is apparently also not allowed, because the more I keep to myself the more people bully me.

But most people in most friendships and relationships seem to be unable to allow me to be normal and be myself and constantly follow either a bait and switch cycle or turn abusive.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do about that.

I guess I know one thing.

Anyway, the point is?

You very much can think your way out of internal problems.

You can take other actions that also help.

The problem is that you can not think your way out of the fact that most other human beings are sadistic and hate you. Like... most other human beings default to wanting to see you miserable and dysfunctional except while you are doing things for them. There is never enough that you can do for them that they won't want every minute that you aren't doing something for them to be hell on earth. There is never enough you can do for them that they won't try to make hard or impossible on purpose.

You can't think yourself out of the fact that capitalism requires you to beg other people for resources to survive and those people all hate everyone

Say you break your ankle. You could know everything there is to know intellectually about the injury. Even with this vast knowledge, you will still experience physical pain.

Now take this logic and apply it to things like ADHD, autism, clinical depression, and other less visible/divergent disabilities. You cannot think your way out of feeling.

That is to say: you are not a bad, lazy, or selfish person for struggling, even if you know why you are struggling.

[djarindroid]

hi! I don’t know if you’re comfortable writing this (I didn’t see you say anything about it in your rules), but could I request a pregnant!reader x Thanos? Kinda like Jun-hee and Myung-Gi. I totally understand if this makes you uncomfortable, and feel free to decline if so! Thank you! <3

tysm for this request! 💕 Loved writing this, I hope you enjoy it!

Stay Behind Me

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: After walking out on Thanos, you never expected to see him again. But when he spots you in the games how will he react to the secret you’ve been hiding?

Warnings: Pregnancy. Usual Squid Game stuff - death, shooting.

Word Count: 1,162

The argument had been building for weeks, small drops of annoyance that had finally bubbled over.

‘You lost everything?!’ You shouted, voice raw. ‘What made you think you could just take my money and put it all into that stupid crypto thing!?’

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal. ‘FUCK, you think I wanted to lose it?! I did it for us!’ He pointed at you as he yelled back. 

‘Well good job, you lost all of our money and now we have nothing,’ your chest heaved. ‘How are we gonna pay the bills?’ Your nostrils flared as you watched him reach for his necklace, taking out one of his pills. ‘Oh, this is fucking great! I can’t believe you're just gonna get high rather than talking this out.’

He scoffed, ‘what do you want me to say? That I ruined everything? You already know that!’

‘I want you to take responsibility, at least say sorry!’ You threw your hands in the air in frustration. ‘Don’t numb yourself with that shit. Talk to me. Please.’

His jaw clenched, for a moment he looked away, avoiding your eyes. ‘You just don’t get it,’ he muttered before popping the pill in his mouth.

Your stomach twisted, ‘no, I get it. I understand perfectly.’ You could feel your heart breaking as you watched the man you loved turn into a stranger before you. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Silence stretched between you both, for a moment you thought he might reach out for you but in the blink of an eye his expression hardened. ‘Fine. Get out then.’

Tears began to slip from your eyes, this was it, it was over just like that. You didn’t look back, you couldn’t. Not as you grabbed your bag, not as the door slammed shut behind you and not when, days later, you realised you were pregnant with his child.

Months later you found yourself in a numbered green tracksuit. After you’d left Thanos, life had been hard. You’d struggled to make ends meet, until you’d met a suited man on the subway who offered you an opportunity to make enough money to solve all your problems.

You were currently stood in a giant arena, listening to the first game being announced. Red light green light, sounds simple enough. A shout from the front of the crowd made you flinch. A player, number 456, had run to the front and was shouting about how the game was dangerous, that if you lost you’d be killed. He had to be crazy right? 

Murmurs rippled around you, some people shouting out that he was just trying to scare them. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself despite the tremor in your hands. Your attention turned to the large mechanical doll at the other end of the arena as it whirred around, facing its back to you. 

‘GREEN LIGHT.’

You began walking forward, going with the crowd. 

‘RED LIGHT.’ 

Everyone froze as the giant doll turned back to you with a soft whirring noise. It seemed that everyone was doing well as the first few rounds went by without incident.

Then, a scream split through the air. Your eyes flickered across the crowd to see a girl swatting at something near her face. You held your breath, waiting. Maybe player 456 was just paranoid..

Your thoughts were interrupted as a crack pierced through the air and the girl hit the ground.

Screams erupted as people realised what happened. Panic ensued and more gunshots rang out. You clenched your eyes shut and focused on staying still. The life growing inside of you had to be your main priority, nothing else mattered.

‘GREEN LIGHT!’ 

You couldn’t move, locked into place by terror. You weren’t alone, everyone around you was frozen with fear. A prickling sensation crept up your spine, followed by the uneasy feeling you were being watched. Shakily, you took the opportunity to turn your head.

Thanos.

All the air left your lungs. He was here. His eyes widened as yours met his. 

‘RED LIGHT!’

You watched as his gaze lowered to your belly. Taking in the undeniable swell that definitely hadn’t been there when you last saw him. 

It was his child, he had no doubt.

You hadn’t made any attempt to reach out to him, you don’t know why. You’d made excuses, telling yourself he wouldn’t be interested, that he’d have turned you away at the door. But now, with him looking at you all of those excuses felt weak. It could just be your emotional state, or the situation you found yourself in but you wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you.

It seemed that he had the same thought because the second the doll turned away again, he moved. Not forwards to the finish line, but towards you. He hurried, stepping over bodies, until he stood in front of you, blocking you from view. He didn’t hesitate before placing a shaky hand on your belly. His touch was soft, gentle - everything that you’d missed.

There was so much you wanted to say but before you could the doll whirled back around and you froze. You stared into his eyes, desperate to read his expression. He looked determined. The moment green light was called again he grabbed your hand, ‘stay behind me.’ 

You didn’t argue. As the game continued he guided you carefully, always making sure to shield you with his broad frame. Other gunshots rang out but his grip was unyielding, never letting you go. Despite everything, being close to him again felt right. A part of you had been aching for it, even if you never wanted to admit it.

As the finish line drew nearer you felt the weight of everything pressing down on you. The stress of the game, disbelief that Thanos was here, guilt that you hadn’t told him, fear for your unborn baby - it was almost overwhelming. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes but you forced yourself to keep moving.

Finally you crossed the line, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as relief washed over you. Thanos turned to you, his dark eyes searched yours but before you could say anything he pulled you into him. You melted into his warmth, his arms familiar and steady - home. 

‘Stay with me,’ he spoke quietly as he held you. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you,’ he pulled away slightly and glanced down at your bump. ‘I won’t let anything happen to either of you.’

Your tears brimmed over as you replied, ‘Thanos I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell–’

‘No need,’ he interrupted gently. ‘I fucked up, I get it now,’ he cupped your cheeks and wiped away the tears. His voice dropped to a low whisper. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m not gonna let you go again.’

For the first time since walking out on him, despite the horror surrounding you, you felt hope.

[zlut4rina]

Imy♡

Storyline: Working overnight at a busy office job wasn't everyone's cup of tea, especially not your clingy girlfriends.

Pairings: Student!Ning x Businesswoman!reader

Warnings: public sex, phone sex, dirty talk (ithink)

Note: Both are 18+, obviously, ik I said I was making ning fluff, which I am obviously, but i wanted to make it two parts, and this just came to mind for part 1. Sorre

Word count: 2k (pretty short, idk how you could make 5k+ with just phone sex 😭)

___________________________________________

You hated your job. It was one of the most insufferable places on earth. But the money was good, you needed the money. You weren’t struggling to pay rent or for food. You were actually quite ahead on your bills. The reason being was because of this job, also with the help of your pretty roommate. After the fallout between you guys and a mutual friend, she was kicked out of their house. So you decided to take her in, of course. Unlike you, she was tight on money but somehow still managed to stay in her uni without problem. Ever since then, you two have been living together, then long after you bloomed a relationship with her. She was now your girlfriend of one year and three months, and you couldn’t be happier.

Present time

While finishing up a few papers left by your boss, you noticed some unopened emails on your screen. When opening them, you see at least 5 different request sent to you by a few employers and your boss. You sigh in annoyance, having a feeling you’re going to be here a bit longer than planned. Scrolling through your inbox, skimming through everything, you finally click one and start working. That’s when a coworker walks up to you, leaning on your wall divider. “How long you plan on being here, I thought only six of us had the night shift.” His question sounded genuine with concern in his voice, looking around the office as if scanning to make sure his count was right. “Seven is an odd number y’know” he lets out a stupid chuckle, one you’ve hated for so long. Looking up at him, taking you from your concentration, you spoke. “I have extra work I need to get done. Maybe I’ll be promoted, who knows. Doubt you would.” The last remark was snarky. You gave him a sarcastic smile, turning back to your work. The man left with a scoff, not before whipping a few papers off your desk, scrambling them in the process. You clicked your teeth at this. It wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t something you weren’t used to by now.

Continuing your work, already done with three of the assignments listed to you, your phone rang. Feeling the buzz on your thigh, you take it out, to your realization it was your girlfriend. You turn your head to the bottom corner of your computer screen to check the time. Seeing it was two hours past when you’d usually be home, a bit of sadness washed over you. Picking up the phone, you put it to your ear. “Hey baby, sorry I’m not home yet. I’ve got extra work I’ve gotta get done.” You spoke quietly into the speaker of your phone. Not to draw attention to yourself, your coworkers were all across the room, some just a row behind you. “It’s fine. I was just worried, is all” your girlfriend said, shuffling in bed, to get comfortable. “How long till you can come home, I miss you” she said in a whiny tone, her voice a bit hoarse due to being tired. She must’ve just woken up, you thought to yourself before answering her. “A while, baby, not too long, though. Don’t miss me too much, cutie.” You chuckled a bit as you spoke, earning a playful whine from the other side of the phone. “Hey I’m gonna connect my headphones so I can finish this work, okay, cutie?” The other girl responded in a hum as you pulled out your airpods and connected them to your phone. I'm sitting right next to your keyboard as you get back to work.

Half an hour had passed with you giggling and snickering at your phone. Finishing some more work, the other end of the call was a bit silent sometimes. She didn’t answer you with words mostly with hums or a few “uh huh’s” there wasn’t a problem in that at all, she was probably sleepy I mean its way passed 10 so of course she’s a bit less talkative. “I miss you” suddenly the other side of the phone spoke. Your eyes widened a bit, taking you out of your trance, and the corner of your lips formed a small grin. “I wish you were here right now” your girlfriend spoke in a soft tone. Barley able to hear her. “Me too, baby. I hope you're keeping the bed warm for me when I get home.” You let out a soft chuckle as she giggled quietly. Once again, you heard shuffling through the phone her sighs we slightly audible too. “Are you sleepy?” You asked after the other end went silent. It took a while to gain a response from her. “No, I can’t sleep, not yet” You laughed a bit at her words. Between the two of you, Ning was very clingy she held onto you like a lost puppy. You two were always together. She would even follow you to the bathroom sometimes. She loved being your little spoon, too, anytime you two cuddled. “You should sleep, love, I won’t be home till maybe around one in the morning” saying this caused you to frown. You really wanted to be in bed right now. Holding your favorite girl, planting sweet, soft kisses on her. But no, you just HAD to notice those emails. “I tried, I need you here, holding me. Your arms wrapped around me, I need you.” Hearing her voice, she sounded so needy, desperate. She really did need you, especially at this very moment.

“I miss you too. I can’t stand being away from you for this long. I haven’t kissed you in forever.” You whined out quietly. It really has been long, seeing as two of your coworkers have already left and headed home. “There’s a lot you haven’t done to me in a while …” the other side spoke, catching you off guard. You froze. Ruffling and strange movements were heard from your phone. It lasted a while, too. Coming to your senses, you finally connected a few dots “Like what baby” you asked in a mocking tone, smiling to yourself as well. “I think you know” her voice was husky, yet her words flew out smoothly. “Hmm I’m not sure. Maybe you could refresh my memory?” You teasingly asked her, your smiling becoming a bit bigger. “Fuck why can’t you just get here already ..” She let out a sharp sigh as she spoke. You giggled at her words, she really does miss you huh “So impatient baby, hmm I wonder what would I be greeted with if I were there right now.” You leaned back in your chair, you felt a bit cocky in this moment crossing your arms behind your head. “Your very needy, wet, horny and spread girlfriend that’s what” you could hear her soft sighs and whines through your headphones. It was a bit too quiet for your liking so you turned your volume up. “That’s a sight to see y’know, fuck I’d love to be there right now and ruin you. I bet that’s what you want huh, my fingers deep inside your aching pussy” a few moans were heard along with a few wet sounds from her fingering her pussy. “Your so disgusting, touching yourself at this hour, begging to be fucked senseless”

Giggling to yourself in the moment you check your surroundings, seeing nobody is paying you any mind you continue to focus in your desperate lover. “I bet you can’t wait for me to get home. Can’t wait for me to fucking ruin that pretty body of yours.” You bit your lip at the thought of it, sighing to yourself. Your girlfriends’ moans were getting louder, you heard a soft thud as your girlfriend placed her phone down beside her. “Fuck, I need you so bad right now!” Ning wasn’t really the time to vocalize her needs like this, she was quieter and let her body do most the talking when it came to sex between you two. Seeing this side if her changed something in you. You had to get this side out of her more often. “I can’t really hear you that well though baby, doesn’t sound like you miss me that much.” You tease her tilting your head placing your chin in your hands, staring at your computer screen. Imagining what she looks like right now. “You wanna hear how bad I need you, yea?” She took her phone in hand and turned her camera on. The camera facing the ceiling, before she slowly brought it down to her milky fingers going in and out of her drenched pussy. You could only stare at your screen, has she lost her mind ? This isn’t the same girl a few hours ago. This isn’t the same girl you gave breakfast in bed to earlier. Snapping you out of your thought, she moved her camera in all angles giving you the greatest views of her soaking wet body. “Fuck baby, see? See how bad I need you right now, you’re telling me work is more important than pleasing this?” her voice became higher in pitch the more she went on, bucking her hips into her hand. So desperate for more, so desperate for you.

The sound of her moans and the way her body moved into her hand was driving you crazy. That should be you. You should be the one pleasing her right now. Except you're stuck here watching your pretty girl work for her orgasm. Licking you’re lips at the sight, your hand slowly went down to your pants, unbutton them swiftly. Looking around the office for any wandering eyes. Your hands slipped down to your soaking panties circling your clit slowly. A soft sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes gently. Your motion on yourself fastening, closing your legs ever so slightly due to the feeling rushing inside you. “Baby ..” you whispered head falling down, biting your lip a little. Roughly enough to leave a mark. Moving from your panties you put your hand inside playing with your wet fold. Slowly teasing your entrance, moving your fingers in and out, but not the full length of them. Your girlfriends’ moans were louder than before the camera shaking, hips bucking up and down. Her tiny whines and quiet curses driving you nuts. “You close baby?” you asked working your fingers in yourself. “mhm …” She answered her voice whiney and needy. Flipping the camera she faced it to her exposed chest, cupping one breast and playing with her nipple. Of course taking her hand away from her heat upset her a bit, but she knew you loved seeing her touch herself. Just for you and nobody else. “So pretty baby, you look so good. Fuck I wish I was there to taste you” your words making her whine and bite her lip, putting her fingers back into her soaking wet pussy. “I wanna feel your tongue deep inside me, taste how good you make me feel.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, and honestly you didn’t care if anyone heard. Your too focused on the beautiful piece of art in front of you to care.

Your pace with your fingers quickened inside you, spreading your legs a little wider for easier access. Biting your lip to conceal your moans, you threw your head back against the head of your chair. Phone in one hand and the other in your pants. You could feel your climax reaching near. You could tell she was close too with the way her body was moving and how fast her hand had gotten. “You better cum baby, just for me, ruin those sheets” you gritted your teeth together and you felt closer and closer to the edge having forgotten all about your work, the time, and if the people around you were aware of your little situation. “Fuck baby I’m so close, I wanna cum in your mouth all over your face.” Her words sent you over the edge cumming all over your hands and in your pants. You wanted to close your eyes but you couldn’t look away from her perfect body and how it reacted to finally releasing all that built up tension in her code. She let out high pitched moans and cute whines as she came, not stopping after wetting her fingers she played with her clit a little more. The fast circles she was rubbing on herself made her squirt all over the bed her camera catching all of it. Her body squirmed at the pleasure and release. The call was almost quiet, all that could be heard was the heavy breaths your girlfriend was taking. Her small gasp and her little whimpers. You watched all this go down, finally growing tired of waiting you buttoned your pants up and packed your things to head out and head home to your girlfriend. “Fuck, hurry home, okay? I miss you” your girlfriend said before ending the call.

___________________________________________

[natsredbra]

mom lottie and reader thoughts? Perhaps? Maybe mixed with domestic lottie?

(yes i had to add all these photos) (also i absentmindedly made it fem!r)

lottie is the softest and most caring person ever, with you and your daughter (i may not be 100% sure about nat but with lottie, she’s a girl mom.) she’s so full of love and it warms your heart to see them together, especially cause she’s spoiling the shit out of her (she’s not a brat though, lottie would never have it) she just wants to give her kid all the love support and warmth she never had

“Babygirl! I got you a new Barbie!” Lottie says, entering the house after work

“Lot she already has 23!”

“But this one came with a puppy whose poop you can clean!”

your daughter’s name would be something ethereal and really meaningful seeing how spiritual lottie is she also gets up early on a sunday and makes you breakfast in bed with your toddler <33 (because she’s a business woman & works all week and all that) she totally lets you know that she can take care of you (finantially) but if you wanted to have any kind of job, understandibly to keep you occupied she’s more then supportive has no problem paying for a nanny if it has a positive toll on your mental health and whatnot

she’s mommy and you’re mama

lottie who as NO issue showing you affection in front of your kid - not obnoxious pda but a caress and kiss here and there

“Ohh honey look at how pretty your mama is!” Lottie called out to your daughter who sat in her lap as they watched Toy Story. You were in the kitchen making dinner

You turned around, a big smile on your face as your kid chanted something along the lines of “Prettyyyy mama!”

It was cheesy as hell, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, especially seeing Lottie marvel in your redamancy

lottie is a serious girl. she puts your kid into fashion immediately. okay that sounded a little scary but what i meant is she’s teaching her all of it as soon as she can speak still, obviously dresses her daughter into child - appropriate clothes, but definitely gets those toddler heels for her

she’s usually busy, but loves days when the three of you don’t have anything but pizza movies and pajamas on your agenda, she wouldn’t relax any other way

is the absolute sweetest if the little one gets a nightmare and comes to your bed. she doesn’t even think twice about letting her in and neither do you in the morning you wake up to their hushed whispers, and they playfully make fun of you about not wanting to get up yet

still, obviously you guys need a break sometimes, and send the kid to her grandparents to get some alone time some of the days you don’t even have sex, just relish in each other not that your child is a burden god forbid, she can simply sometimes be a small distraction between the two of you and to lottie, communication and building a healthy relationship is everything

“I’m so glad we get to do this. And that I get to be here with you.” Lottie mumbled against your chest as your fingers raked through her hair

“Me too Lot. You’re an amazing wife. And mom too.” Maybe she didn’t say so, but she loved hearing it.

Her loved one’s validation and reciprocation is very much important to her.

[skill7spark04]

I wouldn't think this to be as common as a problem for combat mechs: they are typically forced to leave their "bodies" for repairs a significant enough amount of time for them to be symbiotic but not too much. for working mechs though, like construction and expedition mechs? yeah, I can see it. they are built to house people for days on end, with food and water and comfortable places to sleep. it's done this way for the same reason Big-Rig Trucks have whole living spaces. they are expected to be out for days. they are likely to spend more time in the mech than outside of it, mostly just so they can clean themselves and the inside of the mech once in a while, or get repairs when something terrible happens. and everything has a wierd sense of scale because of it: because Mech Tools for construction are just bigger versions of human tools. an exception I can think of is the Pit fighting mech. those guys typically can't afford consistent repairs, so they probably have a similar issue, but Pit-fighter mechs also tend to be way smaller than construction or expedition mechs so that people can get their hands on them easier, allowing for more fights more often. don't get me wrong: all kinds of Mechs will likely have, to an extent, some level of dysphoria. you are removing your second skin. like a crab that tore off it's exoskeleton and has to live without it. but the nuance to it is really interesting to me, as Mechs have so much variation in their use cases, that practically each job has different symptoms of Mech Dysphoria.

Thinking more about Mech dysphoria today.

Stepping out of your cockpit and stumbling because you don't have the right number of legs.

Blinking your eyes out of sync because you don't have the right number anymore, don't have access to on board cameras the way you're supposed to.

Struggling to grab and pick things up because you have the wrong number of fingers.

Failing to recognize your face in the mirror without layers of armor plating over it.

Feeling like a brain pulled from its body and forced to function independently.

[bonnie-the-butcher]

Rip Tide | Chapter XII

[ MDNI ] [ word count: 8.179 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; Mentions of overdose; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.

I will never be able to top that Cain and Abel paragraph. Please mourn for my writing career. Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance for reading <3

You can feel the vice grip of JJ’s hand pressing against your veins, your pulse thundering against him, growing faster with every failed attempt to wring yourself away.

– JJ, – You gasp, trying to twist yourself out of his hold, pulling, wringing, fruitlessly. He yanks you forward before you can finish, dragging you toward the bike.

Your breath catches.

– JJ, let go of me, you’re hurting me—

– Get on the bike. – He doesn’t yell it. His voice is tight, barely restrained, the kind of anger that isn’t meant to be loud—it’s meant to be a warning.

You shake your head, twisting against his hold. – You can’t drive like— You can’t— I can’t just leave—

– Yes, you can. – His grip tightens. – You will.

He’s pulling, and you’re fighting it—your heels digging into the pavement, the weight of your body thrown back, hand grasping at the grass like it can hold you back. You try to wrench your wrist free, but he’s so much stronger than you like this, fueled by something dark, barely controlled.

– Stop it! Please, just fucking stop it, JJ! What are you doing?! – Your voice cracks, desperate. – You’re acting crazy, just—let me go!

He doesn’t. Not for a second. His hand tightens, impossibly, against your arm and he tugs you forward with all his force until you crash against him, barely on your feet, your knees shaking.

– JJ—

– I swear to fucking God, – He growls, his voice a rumble something familiar, painfully so, something that makes your stomach turn. – if I have to tell you again—

You shake your head, thoughtlessly, maniacally. You can’t control the movement.

You don’t know what he’ll do if you refuse.

And that’s the problem.

Because neither does he.

JJ isn’t thinking. He isn’t here.

He’s someone else entirely. His mind is a blur. Whoever this person is, standing before you, wants nothing but to hurt you.

Your heart hammers as the reality sets in.

You could fight. But he'd beat you. You could hope for help. But there’s no one around to stop him. You could scream, but what good would it do if no one’s there to hear you?

And if you don’t do what he says?

He won’t leave.

Not until you get on that bike.

Barry’s bike.

Barry. 

Your heart stops.

Where is Barry? What did JJ do to him? Why didn’t he answer your calls? Did he take something else? Did he leave him, alone, somewhere, with nowhere else to go?

And if he doesn’t leave, if he keeps shouting like this, keeps grabbing you, demanding you go with him—

It’ll be worse.

So much worse.

Your job. Your safety. This sliver of security you're already clinging to by the skin fingernails.

You just barely escaped being fired. JJ isn’t above making a scene to teach you a lesson. He doesn’t care how much he hurts you when he’s like this.

The words get caught in your throat. You force yourself to swallow them down, along with everything else you want to say.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the seat.

JJ exhales like he’s been holding his breath. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t talk to you, doesn’t let go of his anger. Just swings his leg over the bike and nods toward the seat behind him. – Get on.

You hesitate, taking a step back without even thinking, like your body won't let you do this, and he snaps—one hand darting out, grabbing your wrist again, tugging you forward so violently you stumble.

Your stomach lurches.

You don’t want to do this.

But what choice do you have?

You climb onto the bike, your legs barely steady, your arms wrapped around him because you have nothing else to hold on to.

JJ barely gives you time to breathe before he guns it. The engine revs, roaring like a vicious animal. The bike lurches forward before you’re even ready. Your grip slips. Your balance wavers. For a split second, you’re weightless.

You slam against JJ’s back, your arms snapping around his waist on instinct, clinging tight as the bike rockets forward, faster than it should, faster than it ever should.

– JJ—!

The wind rips the word from your mouth.

Streetlights flash by in violent streaks of gold and red. The world blurs at the edges, sharp and endless and cruel, like you’ve been thrown into a nightmare that won’t stop shifting.

JJ doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t breathe. His body is tense, coiled too tight, a wire pulled so thin it can feel the incoming snap. His grip on the handlebars is white-knuckled, his back rigid beneath your grip.

The bike swerves.

Your stomach drops.

The road bends, but JJ doesn’t. He takes the turn too sharp, too recklessly, the tires skidding for half a second. Your whole body tilts, your knee nearly scraping asphalt.

You whimper, pressing yourself closer, fingers desperate as they grasp his clothes, knuckles aching from how hard you’re holding on.

– JJ—slow down!

He doesn’t.

The engine growls louder, vibrating beneath you, rattling in your bones, shaking in your chest like a second heartbeat.

He flies past a red light, too fast, too close, too dangerous.

A car blares its horn—loud, long, furious.

You choke on a scream, your whole body bracing for impact, for the crash, for the pain—

But nothing comes. Only the phantom of an accident growing within you, coiling inside your chest, tightening, painfully, building up a fear that already has you frozen, praying, waiting for death.

Terror crawls up your throat, sharp and cold.

– JJ, please, –  You gasp, voice cracking. – Please—just stop.

For a moment, you think he won’t.

For a moment, you think he’ll ride forever, until the world ends, until you both crash and burn.

Then, finally—finally—he eases off the throttle.

Not much.

Just enough to breathe again.

Just enough to make you realize you were barely breathing at all.

Your pulse roars in your ears.

The wind still slashes at your skin, the tires still groan against the pavement, but the speed—the nightmare speed—has lessened.

Your fingers ache from gripping too tight. Your lungs burn from holding back screams.

And just then, just when you feel the burn in your throat, your lungs, your eyes, retreat, when your arms loosen the slightest bit, when you nearly relax, he sinks his foot on the gas, and suddenly you’re going faster than you ever were.

You can’t contain the scream this time— It surges through you like a bullet, and it ends halfway through, your voice dying in your chest, having used up the little breath you had— you’re choking again. You can’t think.

Your mind rushes, your hands cling, tears falling from you before you can even register them.

But JJ doesn’t slow down.

Even as the streets turn to dirt. Even as the road twists into something precarious, dangerous, unforgiving.

The pavement is cracked, riddled with potholes, with gaping wounds in the asphalt that could send you both flying if he miscalculates even once.

But he doesn’t care.

He flies down the path like he’s untouchable, like the Cut itself will bend to his will, like there’s no chance he could crash.

But you could.

You watch the ground loom ever closer with every turn he makes, asphalt slashing against the metal of the bike like a blade.

Your bones rattle with every jolt, your stomach lurches as the tires stumble over loose gravel, and you can barely think past the fear.

The bike jerks to a halt before your house so suddenly that you don’t even realize it stopped at first.

And you’re falling.

You don’t know whether you jumped or were thrown off.

Your feet hit the ground, but your legs don’t hold.

Your knees collapse into the dirt.

Your hands reach out, clutching the earth beneath you like it’s the only solid thing left in the world.

You gasp, dragging air into your lungs like you’ve been drowning for miles.

The ground is solid. Rough. Real.

But it slips through your fingers, and you can’t hold yourself steady.

You try to focus on the feeling of grit beneath your nails, the sting of pebbles digging into your skin.

Anything to remind yourself that you’re not moving anymore.

But you still feel it.

The phantom pull of the road. The momentum still dragging at your bones. The way your body still thinks you’re going too fast, too fast, too fast—

Somewhere in the haze, you hear voices.

Barry. John. Shouting. Arguing.

You squeeze your eyes shut, press your fingers harder into the dirt, try to remind yourself that you’re here. That you’re on the ground.

That you’re not crashing.

But God, it still feels like you are —Your hands shake so badly you can barely hold the dirt within your fingers. You breathe, gasping, trying to get air, but it’s stuck against your hiccups, against the sobs you don’t even have the strength to choke down— You’re crying. The air is still whizzing past you, sharp, so sharp you can feel it dragging you back, the ground looming closer, your bones nothing but glass.

– There you fucking are. Was it fun? You had your little fucking joyride?! – The voice echoes out from beyond, like you’re stuck, sinking into the air, towards the pavement, and they’re watching you from above.

It's Barry, you realize.

His voice cuts through the haze, loud and livid, sharp enough to hurt. And something inside you thrums. That stupid part of yourself, the part that always hopes someone will help you.

You want to run to him. You want him to see you, to hold you —solid, real, safe— you want something against you, something that isn’t this void that clings to you, this feeling that you’re a moment away from the worst pain you’ll ever feel.

But you can’t stand.

You can’t look at him.

You can’t do anything.

Your hands are still pressed into the dirt, your chest heaving, your body still bracing for impact that never came.

Because it still feels like you’re falling.

And you are.

You’re on the ground, but you’re not. You can’t stand. You can’t move. You can’t breathe.

Something is gonna crash against you. Something sharp. Something that’ll hurt you.

You’ve been beaten enough times to know this feeling, the gasping, aching anticipation of the whip coming down, that split second before someone hits you, before the ground jolts you, before something in you breaks.

Your whole body shakes—not just from fear, not just from the cold, from the void, but from the ache of knowing something worse is coming. You know it's coming. And you know you won’t come out of this unscathed.

Barry stops.

Mid-step, mid-swing, mid-word—he stops.

Because he sees you.

He sees you on the ground.

He sees you pale, trembling, sobbing.

And just like that, his anger vanishes.

He says something, his breath caught in his throat as his steps quicken, as he rushes towards you, having completely forgotten the rest.

His boots crunch against the gravel, loud and reckless and looming. You can’t even help but flinch. Your body jolts backwards, away from him, and you’re crawling again, recoiling until he’s dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out but not touching.

Like he’s done so many times.

And you’re there, this broken stray, cowering in the corner, shaking, shaking so bad you can’t even reach for him like you want.

– Sweetheart, – He murmurs, low, gentle in a way that makes you feel all the more pathetic. – Look at me.

You can’t.

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, curling tighter into yourself, fingers digging into the dirt as if you could disappear into it.

Barry swears under his breath. His hand resting so softly against your shoulder that he too is almost startled by how you flinch.

He stills.

His hand is barely touching you, barely even there, and yet your whole body flinches—hard, like he struck you instead— like a dog, waiting for a boot in the ribs. 

His breath hitches.

– Shit, – He exhales, barely a whisper. Slowly, carefully, he puts his hand on yout back. You don’t move.

You stay there, curled tight, fingers buried in the dirt, shaking, shaking, shaking.

He steadies the rest of his hand against your skin. And you don’t move. Because this is familiar. He’s done this before.

This isn’t new.

Barry swears again, softer this time, and then —very slowly— he moves again. His knees drag through the dirt, his other hand rests on your side.

Not grabbing. Not pulling. Just... offering.

A slow, steady pressure against your back. A grounding weight. A reminder.

You shudder.

Your body is still caught in the past, still bracing for a hit that isn’t coming, still waiting for the moment of impact.

But it doesn’t come.

Just warmth.

Just Barry.

Again.

Nothing’s coming. You have to tell yourself. It’s over. You're okay.

But you don’t believe it. Not fully.

– Sweetheart, – He tries again, voice lower now, still gentle but almost frustrated. Your heart catches. And you feel that guilt blooming in you again. Because he’s had to do this before. Because he’s had to pick up the pieces of you from the ground plenty of times before. You want to kick yourself. You don’t deserve this. You almost flinch away. But his hold tightens, the slightest bit. Grounding. Like he’s afraid to scare you away. –  You’re okay. You’re okay. Just relax. You're okay.

You’re okay.

You don’t move.

Not until he presses a little firmer. Not until his fingers brush your ribs, not holding, not forcing, just... there. Until he pulls at you, softly, not like JJ did. 

Barry doesn’t hesitate.

His arms wrap around you, firm and solid, pulling you in, gathering you up, shielding you from the air itself. The second you feel his grip tighten, you break. A sob wracks through you, sharp and choked, as your hands claw at his shirt, gripping, gripping, gripping.

You cling like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

Like you’re still moving too fast, and he’s just barely keeping you grounded.

Barry holds you tighter. – You’re okay. – He repeats.

Something's coming. Steps behind him. You see the outline of someone, legs walking towards the two of you, but when you move, he holds you tighter. Arms bracing your back like a straightjacket, keeping you from yourself. Keeping you sane.

– You’re okay. – Is the only thing he says. And he keeps saying it, again and again, until the words echo in your mind, bouncing against the walls of your skull, less and less frantic until you can say it. 

You believe him.

Just for a second.

Just long enough to stop falling.

But your name resounds again from behind you. Once, a second time, then you feel that same hand that grabbed you sink into your arm again, trying to pull you back. – Get up! – JJ shouts, nails sinking into your shoulders as he grabs you.

Barry pushes him away.

Shoves him.

You hear the stutter in JJ’s steps as he stumbles back, sinking further into his arms like a child. – What the fuck did you do, huh? What the fuck did you do to her, JJ?!

– Get up and fucking look at me. – He keeps pulling at you, calling your name, his hand burrowing into your flesh. You want to stand, you want to push him away, but you cower. And Barry does it for you.

He shoves JJ again, hard enough that you feel the struggle between them. – She ain’t gotta listen to a word you say, psycho! What the fuck is your problem?!

JJ laughs—sharp, bitter, like it’s the funniest fucking thing in the world.

– Course you’d hide behind him, – He spits, his voice mocking, cruel. – That’s all you ever fucking do. Hide.

Barry tenses.

You feel it.

The way his muscles coil, the way his grip shifts, ready to push back, to swing, to end this.

But JJ doesn’t care.

He doesn’t even look at Barry.

He’s still looking at you.

You can feel his eyes burning holes into your back as you pull back from Barry. You can feel the rage emanating off of him.

– You got nothing to say now? – JJ presses, stepping closer. – Nothing at all? You usually talk such big game, baby. Now you can't even look me in the eye?!

Barry moves first.

– Back the fuck up.

It’s not a warning.

It’s a command.

– Why? Are you worried she’s too close to stab me in the back again? The way I see it, she’s in the perfect position to do that to you, man!

You pull back from Barry, hands still clinging to his shirt as you turn to look at JJ, but Barry doesn’t let go, not as JJ’s gaze finally flicks to him, smirking, scoffing. Not as he pulls you to your feet again, tearing you away from your friend like you're nothing but a thing he can take.

– You feel good? – JJ’s voice is low, furious, barely held together, as his hands sink into you. – Feel real fucking good going behind everyone’s back? Working for Rafe? That do it for you? 

Your chest tightens.

– Stop it—

– You got your little job, right? – JJ barrels over your words, stepping closer, looming, his breath hot, sharp, filled with venom. – That what you’re calling it now? Fucking us all over for a paycheck? Maybe that isn’t it though, maybe you’re the one who’s getting fucked, huh?

John bristles from the porch, his voice low, tense. – JJ.

– Nah. She knows what she’s doing, right? Did you tell your brother how Rafe was all over you in that parking lot, calling you baby and shit?! That dignified, hard-working girl act you put up really paid off huh? You really had us all fooled! – John doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t call JJ out, he just stands there. – Feel fulfilled now? Now that you managed to tick off every fucking form of betrayal in the book? Because you got me fucked up!

Barry’s done.

– She ain’t got you fucked up, man. That’s exactly what you are. Are you serious right now? – Barry snaps, voice rough with disbelief. – You wanna talk about her fucking up? You—you who does nothing but fuck up?!

– Nobody is fucking talking to you, bro.

– Ain’t nobody around here your “bro”, JJ. Thank God, too. Weren’t your parents siblings or whatever? That’d explain why you only got half a fucking brain.

– Shut the fuck u—

– Oh, Alabama over here’s mad! – Barry scoffs, a quick, sharp sound drained of anything even close to humor. – That’s actually hilarious. That some bum like you would feel like you have the right to call anyone out on what they do or don’t do for work. You sit here, lounging for free in this house she pays for, doing jack shit with your fucking life like the trailer trash your ass is—but she’s the bad guy for working? Is that how long it’s been since you had a job, JJ? That you can’t fathom the possibility of someone making money without selling themselves?

JJ laughs.

Not real. Not amused.

Just dangerous.

Like he’s already decided how this ends.

– That’s cute, – He murmurs, nodding slowly, like it’s all some joke he’s humoring. – That’s real fucking cute. You’re gonna add anything to this conversation, or is your dog doing all the talking for you today?

Barry chuckles. Dry and low, so low you can barely hear it. – Dog? You run around sniffing John B’s ass all day and night like you’re in heat or something, but I’m the one who’s a dog? Shit, I ain’t see a bitch around here but you, JJ.

JJ lunges. His fist swings through the air, quick and violent, but before he can even touch Barry, he uppercuts him in the stomach.

JJ tumbles back, his hands still on you, tearing at you, grabbing, ripping, pulling— but his grip doesn’t stand the pain Barry caused him, and he falters.

Barry reacts instantly.

He grabs his arm, shoves him off of you, pivots —his knuckles slam into JJ’s temple.

The sound is sickening: A dull, thudding crack of bone on bone. JJ’s head snaps sideways. His body stumbles, tilting, collapsing.

But Barry doesn’t stop.

He’s on him before he hits the ground, tackling him hard, sending them both crashing into the dirt.

JJ barely has time to react before Barry’s fist connects again.

And again.

And again.

A hit to the jaw—JJ spits blood.

A hit to the cheekbone—his head slams back against the ground.

Barry is relentless.

You call his name, your heart racing, the blood searing your vision like a burning bush, but he doesn’t listen.

His teeth are bared, his muscles coiled and shaking, his body moving on pure fury, on the weight of everything JJ has said, everything he’s done. The years he’s spent hating him for you, the months he’s been hating JJ for the stupid shit he pulled and the problem’s he’s caused him.

He’s beating him to a fucking pulp.

JJ groans. A sharp, wet, broken sound, choked by the blood in his mouth.

His fist swings again—

And that’s when you move.

You throw yourself forward, grabbing Barry’s arm, yanking, clawing, trying to drag him off—

– Stop it! You’re gonna kill him! Stop it! – Your voice cracks, weak, your attempts useless even as your brother joins you, trying to pull them apart, but Barry keeps swinging.

His breathing hard, shaking, still staring down at JJ, moving despite your grip and John’s, like he wants to break something permanent. Like just bruising him isn’t enough.

Like he’s one more hit away from doing it.

You pull harder, hands gripping his clothes, his arm, anything you can reach.

Barry jerks against your hold, laughing, spitting at JJ—then finally, he lets you drag him back.

His breathing is ragged, wild, unhinged.

JJ groans, coughing. His face is already swelling, blood smeared across his cheek.

Your stomach twists.

You reach for him before you can think, hands hovering over his face, over the bruises already forming.

– JJ, – You breathe, shaking. – Jesus fucking Christ.

He's a mess. Blood, flesh, face. You can barely make one thing out from the other. Barely see the damage.

Your hands brush the bloodied hair out of his face, an instinctive motion, just so you can see where the cuts ends and the swelling begins. And for a moment, he almost seems like he’ll let you.

JJ's eyes part, moving though your face as you look at him, and he breathes in deep. He sighs. 

A familiar sound. 

Relief. 

Relief that it's over.

You reach again, just barely ghosting your hands over his temple, where Barry hit him first. But his eyes widen, something in them shifting, cold, cruel. 

And he shoves you away.

Hard. 

Hard enough that you stumble back as well.

Hard enough that Barry notices.

You hear him tear himself away from John's grip, rushing past you, but you grab him just in time. – Please, please Barry. Stop it. Just stop it. Don't do this right now.

Barry is still trembling, breath wild, erratic, hands twitching like he’s one second away from lunging all over again.

You feel it, the anger rolling off him in waves, the way his body keeps trying to pull forward, like something feral inside him hasn’t had enough.

You grip his wrist tighter. – Please, – You whisper. – Please, Barry. Just stop it. Don’t do this right now.

Barry’s teeth grind together. His breath is sharp, ragged, dangerous.

But he listens.

JJ doesn’t.

John helps him sit up, a steadying hand on his back, but the second JJ is upright, breathing, aware again—he’s talking. Talking, insulting, tearing into you like it’s the only thing keeping him conscious.

– You’re gonna let him? – His voice is hoarse, broken, but still filled with venom. – This piece of shit does nothing but get you in trouble but— He spits blood onto the dirt, wipes his mouth, shaking his head. – You’re just gonna let him do whatever he wants?

Your stomach twists.

– JJ—

– I shouldn’t be surprised. – His head snaps up. Eyes blazing, furious, wild. – You let it happen, – He snarls. – You always let it happen, You don’t give a fuck about us. Don’t fucking act like you do. You stood there and fucking— He gestures to himself, to the mess Barry made of him, to his swollen face, to the blood dripping onto his collar. – And you fucking let him do it.

– What the fuck are you gonna do about it, then, tough guy? – Barry laughs, his hands trembling. 

JJ’s muscles snap tight.

You push Barry back again, more frantic now, shaking, pleading, but he doesn’t listen. 

Your hands tremble.

JJ pushes himself up fully now, John’s grip still firm on his shoulder, holding him steady. But it doesn’t matter. 

Because JJ is not steady.

Not at all.

– You ain’t gonna say anything, huh? – He breathes, voice cold, sharp, shaking. – You play the tough girl act very well for someone who’s such a bitch.

Barry tenses again. His laugh is the crack of a whip as he pushes past you, you have to shove at him just so he won’t rush in and punch him again. 

John’s holding JJ back, his face wrecked with something almost sad. Almost worried. – Let go of me. – Barry groans, the impatience growing in his voice. – Let go of me sweetheart, this motherfucker needs to be put in his place.

– Let it go, Bee.

– Let it go?! – He does a double take, looking at you as if you’d grown a second head. – Let it go? He just called you a—

– I heard it. Please, this is enough. You nearly killed him. You won. – You grip his arm tighter. His breath comes out heavy, perplexed. – Just let it go, please.

John’s voice is a murmur behind you, whatever it is that he says to his friend doesn’t reach you, but you know it isn’t working, because the outrage on JJ’s face doesn’t budge. – JJ—

– You’re a fucking traitor. – He spits your name out along with the blood, your brother still trying to pull him back with all he’s got. – You are. You’re a traitor and a whore!

It punches through you.

JJ stumbles forward, closer, swaying but still standing.

– You don’t belong here, – He seethes. – Get the fuck out.

Your heart stops.

You blink at him, your breath snagging in your throat.

This is your house. Your home. He can’t—he can’t just tell you to—

– Get out. – It’s louder this time, meaner, angrier, like it’s his right to say it, like he actually has the power to take something else from you. – Since you’re so happy to be Rafe’s free use slut, go ahead and do it on your own! We don’t fucking need you!

Your lips part. – This is my house, – But your voice is a sliver of what it once was. You’re not looking at JJ. You barely hear his words, but your brother is standing there, completely still. His arms suddenly lax around the other boy. – This is my house! – Louder, firmer, but just as useless.

– I don’t think it is. – JJ laughs. He’s looking back at your brother now, too. Because he knows John isn’t gonna say anything. He knows it just as well as you do. – Your name isn’t John Routledge. That’s the name on the deed, isn’t it? And it’s not yours.

– John. – You’re pleading again. The gray-green of your brother’s eyes gaping at you emptily, thoughtlessly, as if he’s gone into shock. – Say something, John. This is my house too!

He doesn’t say anything.

Just stares.

– Say something!

You don’t know how many times you’ve done this.

How many times you’ve stood there, practically on your knees, begging him to act like a brother. To act like he cares about you. To act as if he’d loved you for a single moment of his life.

You don’t know how many times you’ve gotten this exact response.

The blank stare.

The guilty face.

That look in his eye that tells you just how much he doesn’t have it in him to pretend, even for a moment, that you’re less than the stupid girl who, for whatever reason, has done everything in your power to keep him afloat.

– John. – His name comes out hoarse, quiet. A whisper. A prayer. A plea.

His eyes never waver from yours, he keeps looking, keeps standing there, and though his face is cracked with guilt, there is no shame. Nothing that would make him act on it.

Maybe there’s just nothing there.

No fire. No anger. No defense. No loyalty.

Just the look you’ve seen a thousand fucking times before.

You don’t know why you still beg. You don’t know why you still believe. 

You are pleading with a ghost.

John doesn’t move. He just looks at you. Like he’s already decided. Like this is already done.

And it is. 

But it wasn’t done with the fight, or the cursing, or the blood, not even the way JJ turns, tossing the keys to the bike onto the ground, storming off like he’s the one who was wronged. Not when you see the way John hesitates for half a second, looking at you like he wants to say something, like he wants to take it back, like he wants to undo what’s already done—

Not even when he follows him, turning his back on you like it’s so simple, so natural, like it was always meant to be.

It ended years ago.

Maybe it never even began.

Maybe you're the only fool alive who ever believed you were his sister.

The night cracks open.

The silence presses in.

You're stuck inside your body, inside your head, inside all the memories that claw their way back into you like rusted nails.

You are twelve years old, standing behind John, watching through the schoolyard fence as JJ and the others shove you into the dirt.

"Ain’t she your sister?" someone asks.

John laughs with them.

"Nah, man. I don’t know her."

You are fifteen, standing in the living room, your hands trembling at your sides as your father slams you against the wall.

John is at the end of the hall.

Watching.

Silent.

Your father’s voice is thunder in your ears.

"You think you’re smart, huh? You think I don’t know it was you?"

But it wasn’t you. It was John.

And he lets it happen anyway.

You are seventeen, standing in this very yard, watching your brother walk away from you again.

Just like he always does.

Just like he always will.

Because John —the John you thought you knew, the John that sobbed in your arms for months every night your father didn't come home, the John who wouldn't eat unless you fed him, who wouldn't sleep unless you held him, wouldn't leave the house unless you were close enough that he could grab you, was never there. John, the boy, John, the brother. He's only ever existed as far as he needed you. And now he doesn’t— is not there. 

He's John B.

The star student, the popular kid. That boy that was always too good to hang around some mongrel like you.

And this is what John B does.

This is what he’s always done.

He doesn’t protect you.

He doesn't defend you.

He doesn’t choose you.

Every time you’ve asked God whether you were your brother’s keeper, you felt the weight of every living soul around you say no —You closed your eyes, and you were Abel, lying, stupidly, on the ground you just tilled as he stood behind you with a stone, ready to crush you. You were Remus, laying bricks with your back turned as he came to slay you. You were Osiris, walking thoughtlessly into a coffin he’s made to bury you, fully believing that he wanted nothing but to see you well— Because for every life you’ve shared, he’s killed you, and still somehow convinced you to pray that you’re still siblings in the next.

You don’t remember when your hands started shaking.

Or when your knees lost their strength.

Or when your breath began coming too fast, too shallow, not enough, never enough.

All you know is that the world tilts.

And you sway.

And you break.

And you cry.

You reach out—for something, anything—but there’s nothing to hold onto.

Nothing but empty space where your brother used to be, where the two of you used to play, where you once believed you could be something like brother and sister.

The sky blurs. The trees waver. The ground rushes toward you.

But before you can collapse, before you can even feel yourself falling, Barry catches you.

He's solid. Real.

Not like John. —You shake your head, mentally scratching that concept from your conscience— Not like John B. 

– Hey—hey—look at me. – Barry’s hands grip your arms, tight, steady. His eyes search your face, his chest rising and falling like he’s just run a mile. – C'mon. Breathe.

You press your hands against his chest, against something solid, something unshaking, something that won’t disappear the moment you close your eyes.

And finally you do breathe. But the wound is still gaping. Still bleeding. And John B is already gone. The door slams closed, leaving you to rot in the silence, bathed by the flickering light of the porch; the one you asked him to change for a lightbulb you bought weeks ago, and is still sitting, forgotten on his nightstand.

Barry smooths the tears away from your face, like he used to do when you came to him after a fight with your father, like he’s done for every heartbreak since. – Let’s go home. – He whispers, his hands still cupping your face. The plastic of his keys—Rafe’s keys— pressed against your jaw. – C’mon, let me take you home.

– It's gone, Bee.

– It's not.

– He kicked me out, I can’t come back. It's gone.

– It’s not, it isn’t, don’t fucking say that—don’t ever say that again. – His grip on you tightens, the muscles of his hand flexing against your skin, quick, so quick, you barely brace yourself when he makes you stand in front of him. – That piece of shit isn’t your home. This place? This fucking dump you lived in? This isn’t your home. I’m your home, okay? And you’re mine, and you’re not staying here to keep breaking your own heart over and over again. Let's go.

– Barry—

– I don’t wanna hear it. – He's firm. He's angry. Your chest weighs heavy, still forever afraid of any sign of anger, even when it’s not directed to you. But he holds you, and he looks at you, really looks at you, and he repeats. – Let’s go, okay? I’m taking you to my place, and I don’t wanna hear you complaining. 

– Okay.

– C’mon. 

Barry’s hands are firm, unshaking, steady, and you barely feel them as he guides you toward the bike. Everything is distant, muted, like you’re watching yourself move from somewhere outside your own body. A conscience beyond your own. 

You let him press the helmet onto your head, let him buckle it under your chin with a flick of his fingers. And you watch the way he moves.

His hands are still clenched as he tosses your purse, discarded over the ground, on your lap. He looks over his shoulders, at the closed door, with his jaw clenched, and every so often he shakes his head, frowning, outraged by a thought you can’t hear, can't know.

You don’t remember climbing onto the bike.

You barely register the way Barry grips your hands, pulling them around his waist, but he doesn’t say anything. Not the usual "Hold on, sweetheart," he always says like it’s second nature, not any of the stupid comments he makes whenever you ride with him. His movements are brisk, borderline impatient, but not careless, never careless. He kicks the bike to life, the engine shuddering through your bones as it hums beneath you, the heat of the exhaust jostling against the scrapes on your legs.

Then, you’re moving.

Not fast. Not yet.

But even at this speed, the wind presses against you, makes you feel untethered, unsteady, fragile in a way you haven’t let yourself acknowledge until now. You close your eyes and grip him tight, focusing on the smell of the helmet, breathing it  in, the smoke of his cigarettes, the shoddy menthol of his nicotine gum, and something grounding, something real. 

Your fingers find the fabric of his shirt —your shirt— the old marina shirt that belonged to your dad, the one you were wearing that day with him and Rafe, when everything went to shit. It’s crumpled, but it feels nice, still tender from the fabric softener you used for that last wash.

You feel the moment he registers it, the way you grip him, trying to distract yourself—the way his muscles tense slightly, the way his hands shift against the handles, grip tightening, the moment of hesitation before he sighs through his nose and settles.

He drives slower than usual.

Not slow, but slow enough that you can tell.

Slow enough that it’s not Barry’s usual recklessness, his usual need to prove something.

Slow enough that he’s paying attention.

You don’t know how long you ride like that.

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. Maybe a whole fucking lifetime.

Everything is blurred, stretched thin, bleeding together like a half-forgotten dream, and you let it wash over you, let the hum of the engine drown out the roar in your head, let the road carry you somewhere, anywhere that isn’t here, that isn’t now.

You don’t notice when he turns onto the familiar back roads.

You don’t notice the flickering neon light, the cracked pavement, the darkened windows.

You don’t notice where you are at all.

Not until he kills the engine.

Not until the silence crashes over you, sharp and final. Not until you hear the low creak of his kickstand settling, the way he shifts slightly beneath your hands, pulling off his helmet, running a hand through his hair before glancing over his shoulder.

Not until you look up.

And the sign is right there, right above you.

The River Styx.

Your stomach drops.

But Barry doesn’t say anything, his fingers brush over your wrist, still taught around his waist, and he pats his other hand over your knee. – C'mon.

You just stare at the sign, the neon glow casting strange shadows across the pavement, the weight of everything pressing down on you all over again.

You should have known.

Of course he’d bring you here.

Because where else would you go?

Where else is there to go?

Barry swings his leg off the bike, tossing the helmet onto the seat, shaking his head like he’s already exhausted by whatever is going on in his own head. He exhales sharply, running a hand over his jaw, then gestures toward the door.

– Come on, sweetheart, it's about time this day fucking ends. 

You swallow hard, unmoving.

His brows pull together slightly, like he’s trying to be patient, like he’s trying to find the right thing to say, but Barry isn’t built for patience, for softness, for comfort in the way people expect it.

So instead, he sighs, takes a step closer, and reaches for your wrist, fingers curling around it, not pulling, just holding. – You promised. – He says, but this time it actually is softer, kinder, nearly patient. – Now, we can go back if you want, but then the deal is over, and you'll have to sleep on the pull-out couch.

You scoff, still looking at the sign, but you feel your arm relax under his touch. – You suck.

– Not just yet, I’m still sober. – He winks, smiling half-heartedly as he pulls you to the door.

Finnean, the owner’s son, grins the moment he sees you, arms crossed over the bar, his too-many tattoos peeking out from what should have been the sleeves of this dirty wife-beater he’s wearing, the gold tooth in his smile catching the dim light. – Well, well. Look who finally crawled outta the grave.

– You thought we were dead? – Barry hums, unamused, knocking twice against the counter as he slides onto the stool, pulling you beside him. 

Finnean laughs, more a scoff than anything as he places two cups before you. – D’you ever hear the expression ‘only the good die young’? Good ain’t the case for you two. I was actually leaning towards your ass finally getting detained.

– Why? Your brothers need a lil company? Maybe sweetheart can go to see them. – Barry pats your leg, smiling, tight and taught, none of the usual ease on him. – What’d you say, jailbait?

– You can go all you like, sweets. I’m just not sure you’d come back.

– You’re a peach, Finn. – He smiles at you, green eyes flashing with something you don’t want to understand as he turns his back and grabs something.

– And you’re a plump, little red cherry. – He shakes his head, setting the glass down in front of you with a wink before tossing something onto the bar. – I could just pop you in my mouth.

A bowl of bright red maraschino cherries sits before you. Your heart stumbles, a smile actually forming on your face.

Barry grins, nudging them closer. – Knew that’d cheer you up. – His shoulder brushes yours as he pulls your stool closer, watching you eat. – We weren’t in jail or nothing, but this one just got out of house arrest.

– That brother you’re always talking about? – He asks Barry, already throwing his head back, laughing, reaching for the bourbon before Barry even asks. – That explains it. – You stop for a moment, aching again.

Was it so obvious? – Does it? – You murmur, and Finnean gives you a look.

– You disappear for months, and when you finally show up, you look like someone dragged you through hell backwards. – He nods at Barry. – He looks ready to start swinging on the first motherfucker who blinks at him wrong.

– That’s just his face, – You say dryly, eating so you don’t have to look at them.

Barry just snorts, shoving your shoulder lightly. – Ain’t you a charmer? – He takes a cherry from your hand, still chewing it as he downs his cup. – Hit me again.

– You tryna meet God or something? – Barry chuckles at your words, this time more genuine. The smile lingers as Finn pours more bourbon into his glass, sliding another over to you.

– Holler when you get tired of this loser, okay sweetheart? – He winks, that same old joke he always says, grinning as he slides on over to another customer. – Finn will love you long time.

You breathe out slowly, your lungs still burning as you reach for the glass.

You’re tired of thinking about John.

Tired of mourning someone who was never there to begin with.

Maybe Barry had a point with the whole drinking your sorrows away thing. He’d been doing it for years, already. Started drinking just after his father was finally arrested for good.

And hey, if it worked for him…

You bring the glass to your lips, feeling your friend’s eyes on you as the liquid runs down your throat like straight gasoline. He chuckles, patting you in the back.

The first drink burns.

The second warms.

By the third, you’re floating.

The night bleeds away with every time you glimpse the bottom of your cup staring down at you.

Time slips through your fingers, lost in the clink of glasses, the sharp burn of bourbon, the sticky sweetness of cherries.

But though your thoughts slow, the ache never leaves you.

Barry loosens, even as you remain a little melancholy, all warmth beside you, his voice low in your ear, teasing, coaxing laughter from you with every sarcastic remark, every quiet joke. He tips the bottle, refilling your glass before you can even think to ask.

Your chest clenches.

The songs in the background rise, fall, twist into something familiar.

Somewhere between the fourth drink and the sixth, you’re singing along, voice tangled with Barry’s, both of you yelling out the lyrics, slurring through the old Irish verses, laughter shaking through you as the whole bar joins in.

You don’t remember when Finnean slid the bottle of homemade moonshine across the counter, just that Barry caught it with a smirk, tucking it under his arm before pulling you off the stool.

His hands are already on you, already guiding, already pressing against your waist.

You stumble, laughing, pushing him back. – You can’t fucking drive like this, dumbass.

Barry grumbles, rolling his eyes, but you grab his arm and pull.

So you walk.

Through the streets of the Cut, the night air cool against your flushed skin, your voices loud, singing through the empty roads from your empty chest. Barry spins you at one point, pulling you into his arms, making you laugh, and you linger a moment longer than you should, his arms still around you when you finally pull away, palms burning hot through the fabric of your shirt as he walks behind you.

By the time you reach his trailer, your legs ache, your chest hurts from laughing, and your head is woozy.

His trailer is dark, not a single light on as he pulls you towards it, hands searching your sides, his chest pressed against your back. His fingers rest at the small of your waist, loose, familiar, something closer to instinct than thought.

He’s closer than he should be, you know he is, but you don’t push him away.

Maybe it’s the drinking.

Maybe it’s the way the night has stripped you raw, leaving nothing but exposed nerve endings and memories that won’t stay buried.

Or maybe it’s just him.

The warmth of him.

The familiarity of him.

The fact that he’s still here despite the fact you’re down in the dumps.

But the way he's looking at you now isn't new. It's far too familiar.

His lips part slightly when he turns you, his head tilting, eyes flicking between your mouth and the mess of your hair, the flush of your skin, the shape of you standing so fucking close to him you could feel the shape of your body moulding to his.

He leans in, breath fanning against you like a dragon’s, warm, cutting, almost inviting you to be bitten. You turn just in time, his lips landing on your cheek, warm and soft, and way too eager. – You know we never stop once we start. – You mumble, your back brushing the railing as he pulls you up the stairs.

Barry’s lips twitch. His fingers flex against your waist, just barely dragging down, slipping lower, gripping just enough to pull you fully against him.

His voice is low, rough, already gone. – Who says I want to stop?

You know you shouldn’t.

It’s been a while since you drank and remained conscious, but the ache in your chest is doing nothing for your rational thinking skills, and when he cups your face, soft, so soft, like no one else in the world ever does, you let him.

You taste yourself first—sweet, sticky cherry, the sugar lingering on your tongue, and he hums, pulls away just a bit, licking his lips before he kisses you again. You taste him, then. Malt. Amber. Tobacco. Bourbon-smooth and burning at the edges.

You feel guilty already.

But you want the comfort. The ease. The warmth.

His hands tighten, pressing into the small of your back, like he needs you closer, like the inches between you are somehow unbearable, and he sighs against your lips as he kisses you again. The guilt writhes within you as your pride swells. He hums into your mouth, something low, something pleased, something that sounds dangerously like relief.

You barely register him guiding you back until your calves hit the edge of the couch on the porch, and suddenly you’re falling.

Not away from him.

With him.

Barry pulls you onto his lap, knees spreading beneath you, hands gripping tighter, hotter, rougher.

His mouth moves against yours with purpose now—hungry, claiming, a little desperate, a little too much. But he never pushes. He always begs you to take.

You feel his breath stutter when you shift against him, when your hands tangle in his hair, when your fingers scrape against his scalp just the way he likes and he groans, deep in his throat, pulling you tighter.

This is it.

This is the cycle.

This is the inevitable.

This is history repeating itself.

This is what you do when you have nowhere else to go.

This is a promise, a bad decision made in the heat of too much alcohol, sealed between his teeth and your lips, unspoken, unbreakable. You don’t really know what you’re promising. But like the fool you are —like the fool you’ve always been— you’re almost glad to hold it out on a silver platter, just to get that rare sliver of love you’re always desperately grasping at.

@chatgtfo @bitterdotcom @xmayankax @bluethperson @coralblue35 @myluvingera @munsoncultedits @the-bitch-who-binges @im-julessssss @redkarmakai @hwaaholic @sydkneez @sassyvilliantrope @vampiriito @sassybearfire

[lilghostiequinni]

Winning and Twinning

Main Masterlist Lestappen Masterlist

Pairing: Girlfriend!female reader x Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc

Warnings: Fluffy, None

Summary: Most times, out on track, they fight too much, and harsh words are swapped, but you force them to get along with a solution that worked for you with your siblings.

Requested: NO / yes

You met them by complete accident, having been dragged to some meet with them by your friend at an F1 event.

You had left your jacket on the table with them, and Max messaged you later that day because you had left with them.

You told him that you be able to get for a couple days, having left for a business trip just an hour later.

Max replied that it was fine and that he would hold onto the jacket until you returned.

When you did return, you messaged Max that you were back in Monaco, but he told you that he was in the UK, where you seriously just came from for your business.

But that you could contact Charles and see if he was in Monaco, as he had a key to Max's apartment.

Then, after messaging Charles, he told you that he was in Italy for the week for the Ferrari.

When either of them were in Monaco, you weren't, and when you were in Monaco, they weren't.

Most times, it was that you just missed them, or they just missed you.

But then one weekend, you were in Brazil, having gone for your friend, the one that raced, none other than Lando Norris, and you also had a few business things to attend to the week before and after the Grand Prix in Brazil.

You told Max to bring your jacket with him to Brazil, that you were going to be there for your friend, you didn't say who that friend was though.

He answered that he would have Charles grab it before he left because he was in the UK again, and Charles was in Monaco.

You didn't hear from Charles or Max until Friday when you told them you would be at the track tomorrow, on Saturday, for qualifying and that you were in a meeting for Friday.

It didn't take long after that for you and Max and Charles to start a relationship altogether.

During the season, there were many harsh words exchanged between Max and Charles, sometime those hurtful words would bleed into the personal aspect of their relationship.

But you were always around to hinder and buffer it from getting too out of hand.

There were times that you told them that you were taking them somewhere and that there were outfits out for them, in the gaming room for Max and the closet for Charles, making sure that they never talked or even looked at each other, not wanting an argument to ensue.

When they would come out, they would be matching, and you would be all ready and forcing them out the door before they could complain.

It would work most, if not all, the time, but for the times that it didn't work, you would force them in a two-person shirt and then into a room where they could take the shirt off, but they still had to talk it out.

Mainly because you would sit in front of the room door so they wouldn't leave.

When they were done hashing and making out, one would knock on the door, and you would open the door and they would just hug you knowing that didn't want to bring work home.

Even if bringing work home was a bit of a problem because of what their job was, and you understood that.

You only interfered when it got bad, and you didn't think they could take and figure it out on their own.

When they won a race or did good and got a good result you were there.

You were there when they got bad results.

You loved them and didn't want to just be there for the good times but also the bad.

You needed them so much, they completed.

Max and Charles need you just as much because you were their missing piece.

A/N: First in the 300 Follower ship poll.

Tags: @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @ellen3101 @barcelonaloverf1life @charli123456789 @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @diaryofarandomkid @hadids-world

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[saltyfruitbat]

If You Come Into My Heart

Inseparable.

That's what many had noticed of the two quiet twins that sat in the Commissioners office, a large blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

Two cups of hot chocolate that an older gentleman had brought them, one with marshmallows.

He had left them with a pat to their heads, and a soft smile; one filled with sadness. Two children had lost their mother, they both shared the same look of that little boy he had found in that alley of a theater.

Their tiny hands locked together, while one stared at the floor, their eyes filled with sadness, the other stared at anyone who passed by with anger. If that glare was meant to scare anyone, the baby fat didn't help much.

He had left them with a pat to their heads, and a soft smile; one filled with sadness. Two children had lost their mother, they both shared the same look of that little boy he had found in that alleyway.

Very contrasting emotions, even if they did have the same face, even their clothing had been color coordinated.

Their mother had been a waitress at some nightclub, with another part-time job as a cashier. Just a single mother trying to provide for her children, and herself.

She had been offered some side hustle, nothing too long, at some night club, only for a few days. The money had looked enticing enough for her to take it.

The problems had started with some guy who had gotten handsy, and then had tried getting her number, in a few days the guy had been stalking her, that’s all her neighbors claimed

Some people can't handle rejection, the man had been one of those people.

She had barely made it to her apartment, and had died on the steps of her apartment.

Someone had found her, and here were the twins now.

Stuck in the police department of Gotham, waiting for their father to arrive, a man they didn't know personally, but had seen on the tv as their mother would make them breakfast.

A man many knew, they could tell, judging by the whispers and the glances they got.

They were children, but they were smart enough to know when adults lied to them, their mama often did. She often would tell them their father was always on business trips, and that's why he was never in their lives.

The twitch of her mouth would tell them all, and the sadness in her eyes did too as her eyes would watch him hold another woman in his arms.

They didn't really care for their father, after all they had their mother. Had her.

No longer able to feel her warmth as she would hug them, cuddle against as she fell asleep on her bed from working too hard.

Their maternal grandmother was too old to take care of them, in a hospital room, and their mama's friends couldn't afford to take care of them. But the twins didn't care, they only had each other.

Their father hadn't shown up, his butler did.

They could tell the man with the glasses, and white mustache, was disappointed.

A kind old man, even if his smile only curved so slightly, and his eyes slightly crinkled. His eyes stared at them as if he had seen some old friends of his.

The twins' eyes were the same as his master's eyes, and of the man's parents, a mixed blue with their mother's eyes; the same young woman that had told him her dreams of being an artist.

The beginning of years to come, for better or worse.

Note: Wrote this at the beginning of my semester, after I watched Look Back, which made me tear up, and appreciate my shitty writing, and drawing skills. Ya’ll also gotta read @onceinamillionposter own Twin readers cuz that honestly motivated me to even post this 😭

[the-silly-words-on-your-screen]

AND HERE"S THE OTEHR HALF WOOOOOOOOO

51: i mean like. i'm not super fond of em. but they're fine 52: TACO 53: TACO 54: i try to be clean. cooking messy tho 55: "I love you" to my partners <3 56: ...probably nya or meow 57: for what??? waking up and getting to my computer? like 5 minutes. going on a trip? days. nice date? like half an hour 58: i mean. i think i'm pretty neat. no need to shove that in anyone's face though 59: dont you dare cronch a lollipop i will murder you 60: i mean. not to myself. but to the silly people in my head, yes 61: heck yeah. sometimes i forget im not by myself too :P 62: not like. professional good. but enough to not cause ear bleeds 63: fuck unprotected heights. behind glass in a skyscaper? neat. cool. fine. standing on a bridge that lacks rails? fuck you. go away 64: nah not really. unless its soemthing important that people just. should know 65: i dunno 66: i like my hair long. it go wavy wheeeeeeee 67: on a good day 68: mATH WOOOOOOOO 69: all the introvert. leave me alone 70: i have remained solidly above the water for most of my life 71: not knowing things. just like. i crave infORMATION TELL MEEEE 72: girliepop i sneeze at the light i fucking love the dark 73: situational 74: yes but only in like. 2 spots 75: i dont think so lol 76: nah im just here to vibe 77: dad let me try a sip of bourbon at 11. tasted fucking awful 78: dont put a drug in me please 79: not going to disclose their name publicly on the internet 80: not a one 81: rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr hehehehehehehehehehehehehe 82: fast-ish 83: fast-ish 84: dirt 85: grey. or occasionally slightly blue in intense sunlight 86: caffeine 87: this blog is the closest i've ever done and it's pure nonsense 88: not my problem 89: I mean??? sure??? 90: seeing people i love hurt 91: i do! hence why i chose it lol 92: noup 93: i want em to be whoever they be 94: i refuse to answer job interview questions on tumblr. you dont get to copy my homework 95: see above 96: chose it myself :3 97: i dont think so?? if so then what the heck why didnt anyone tell me 98: bestie you already asked that one. see question 39 99: white 100: many

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[twins-write]

Half a Truth is Still a Lie

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Buck finally finds out about Y/N's feelings and asks her on a date... but is it a real date, or just a ploy to make Veronica jealous?

Based on 4x08, when Albert invites Buck to a double date with him and Veronica

Warnings: None, just a bit angsty. Could be classified as hurt-comfort.

Notes: Finally posting again! I involved a lot of best friend Eddie as well... I couldn't resist. Hope you guys like this one <3

Word Count: 8.06k.

Author Signature: 🦋

The 118 pulled up to the scene they were called to, hopping out of the firetruck, but not taking any action as they watched a negotiator talk to the armed criminal who was pacing on top of the roof.

“And how did he manage to get up there?” Y/N asked with raised brows while Buck and Eddie chuckled next to her, the former shaking his head as he shrugged, “Guess he wanted to try and prevent himself from getting arrested.”

“Looks like he’s doing a good job.” Eddie commented, scoffing in slight disbelief as they stood next to the firetruck, watching the negotiator try his best to talk the criminal down.

“Oh, look- Taylor’s here.” Buck stated, pointing to the reporter that stood a good distance away from them, talking about the incident to the camera.

Y/N rolled her eyes, the girl having not liked the reporter since the day she met her, but for some reason, it seemed Buck had taken a slight liking to her- especially considering he had slept with her before.

That may be another reason Y/N didn’t like her all that much.

“While we sit here doing nothing, let me continue telling you about Veronica and how Albert-”

Eddie groaned, interrupting his friend, “This again?”

“What?” Buck asked in an offended tone while Y/N shook her head at him, “You’ve been talking about them the whole time we’ve been on shift. That’s six hours.”

“So?” Buck scoffed, “You guys are my friends, aren’t you supposed to listen to me rant?”

The girl next to him shrugged, “Yeah, technically, but you’ve been repeating the same thing over and over. We get it- you had a bad date, bad date girl happens to live on the same floor as you, your roommate took a liking to said bad date girl, and bam, you caught your roommate in her apartment in nothing but a towel.”

She then turned and looked at him with raised brows, “Does that sound about right?”

Eddie laughed while Buck sighed in slight defeat, “Yeah.”

“Why are you so mad about it anyways?” The girl asked him curiously, turning her attention back to the male who was pacing on the roof.

“What do you mean? You don’t think I have a right to be mad?” The blonde male questioned.

She shrugged, “I mean… from what you’ve been saying… you didn’t like her all that much. Why do you have a problem with Albert dating her?”

“It’s bro-code!” Buck argued, causing Y/N to turn to Eddie, “Eds, what do you think?”

Eddie raised his hands in mock surrender, “Oh no- do not bring me into this.”

Buck turned to him quickly, “What? Traitor!”

“I didn’t agree or disagree with you!” Eddie replied in slight disbelief that his friend was now annoyed with him.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll go talk to someone who will listen to me.” Buck said before walking in Taylor’s direction, causing Y/N to scoff, rolling her eyes as she yelled after him, “We have been listening to you for the past six hours!”

Buck didn’t reply nor turn around, only continuing on his path to talk to the red-head, which Y/N realized- releasing a sigh as she watched him begin to converse with her.

Eddie gave her a knowing look, causing the girl to look at him with furrowed brows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Looking at you like what?” He asked, giving her the same look- the one that implied that he knew something.

She pointed at his face, “Like that!”

He pursed his lips, giving her a small shrug, “I don’t know, just seems like you’re jealous of a certain someone.”

Then he glanced at Taylor, causing Y/N to follow his gaze. She laughed, “You’re joking, right?”

Eddie raised his brows, “No.”

“I’m not jealous of Taylor- of all people.” Y/N told him, annoyance covering her tone.

Eddie looked away from her, mumbling something under his breath.

The girl looked at him and spoke sarcastically, “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

He repeated himself so she could actually hear him this time, “Maybe you’re just jealous that Buck is giving her attention because you see him as more than a friend and he doesn’t realize it.”

“I-” She began, only to stop talking, knowing he was right. The girl sighed, leaning her back against the fire engine, allowing her head to thunk into the side, “You’re right.”

“I know.” Eddie chuckled, leaning next to her and patting her shoulder gently, “You should just tell him.”

“And, what? Make every shift awkward? No thanks.” She said, shaking her head at his suggestion.

“I don’t think that’s how it’d turn out, but okay.” The Diaz male shrugged, deciding to drop the conversation as they walked closer to the rest of their team- minus Buck.

Her and Eddie stood to the left side of Hen, who was sitting down on the side of the fire engine, Chimney and Bobby standing to Hen’s right.

The group sat quietly, listening to the criminal yell while he walked around the roof, “You shut up! You’re a liar! You said you’d help me find a way out.”

“I didn’t mean with a helicopter.” The negotiator quickly replied, gaining a shout from the criminal, “Shut up! I need to think!”

“Eh… should’ve tried thinking before he ended up on a roof.” Eddie stated, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the side of the engine again, “I mean, he cornered himself.”

“That there is a whole series of bad life choices culminating in this one unfortunate moment. It’d be tragic if it wasn’t so moronic.” Hen replied.

“Why don’t they just storm the roof?” Chimney questioned, “It’s not that high. We can give ‘em a ladder.”

Bobby shrugged, “It’s a tactic negotiators use to drag out the process in order to wear down the suspect. Eventually they hit a breaking point.”

“Or we do.” Chimney said in response.

“Yeah, you got that right.” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head and looking at Bobby, “Shouldn’t we set an airbag below the roof or something incase he falls?”

He shook his head, “We don’t want to make him think we’re going to push him off or anything. He might just panic if we start setting it up.”

The girl shrugged, “I mean, it’s just a safety precaution, we could tell him that.”

“I don’t think someone pacing on a roof with a gun is going to be thinking rationally, though.” Eddie told her, nudging her in the shoulder as she nodded in agreement to his statement.

“Ten bucks says he falls right off that roof.” Hen muttered, causing Y/N to laugh as Eddie pulled money from his pocket, “20 says he makes a leap for the tree.”

As Bobby looked over to Eddie in slight disbelief, the male replied, “Come on, the guy’s got at least one more bad life choice left in him.”

Y/N looked to the side and noticed how irritated the homeowner looked, the girl smirking as she pulled a bill out of her pocket, “50 says the homeowner pushes him off.”

“That’s morbid.” Hen chuckled with raised brows, causing Y/N to shrug with a grin. 

Y/N, Eddie, and Chim handed Hen money, the woman taking it and pocketing it as they stood, continuing to watch the situation.

After a few moments, Y/N’s eyes trailed over to where Buck was standing, leaning against the railing as Taylor reported to the camera- the male waiting for her to be done.

She shook her head with a sigh, “I need coffee.”

Bobby looked at her with raised brows, “Want to make a coffee run?”

“Am I okay to do that?” She asked her captain, the male shrugging, “I don’t see why not.”

“What am I going to drive, though?” The girl then questioned, knowing she couldn’t take the fire engine or ambulance in case something happened while she was gone.

Her captain hummed in thought as Hen chimed in, “You could always ask Athena if you could borrow a cop car.”

Y/N laughed, “There’s no way I’m allowed to drive one.”

“Then ask for an escort.” Eddie suggested, causing her to nod, “Okay. I’ll be back.”

The girl walked towards Athena, who just so happened to be near Buck and Taylor- Y/N noticing that Taylor was off air at the moment because her and the male were talking.

“Athena!” Y/N yelled, causing the sergeant to turn towards her, “Do you think it’s possible I could get an escort to a coffee shop?”

“As long as you’re getting coffee, I can get someone to take you.” She replied with a laugh.

Y/N smiled as Athena walked away to grab someone, the girl taking this opportunity to go ask her other friend if he wanted any.

“Buck.” She shouted as she got closer, her voice drawing not only Buck’s attention, but Taylor’s also.

“I’m going on a coffee run, do you want anything?” She asked, causing him to nod, “Coffee sounds amazing right now.”

“Your usual?” 

Buck nodded with a smile and then turned to Taylor, “What do you want?”

Instead of replying directly to him, Taylor turned to Y/N and stated her order, the latter trying to make sure her distaste didn’t show on her face as the former spoke.

Once Taylor was done speaking, Y/N gave them a thumbs up, Buck shouting a quick thank you as she walked away, rolling her eyes once she had turned away from the duo.

Eddie chuckled from a distance, having watched her interaction and her reaction as she walked away, drawing the attention of the group next to him.

“What’s so funny?” Hen asked, causing Eddie to shake his head as he smiled, “Nothing.”

-

Two hours in

-

Y/N returned from the coffee run about an hour and a half ago, having gotten her team their specific orders- along with Athena and Taylor’s- and then having gotten a bunch of other plain ones for the first responders that she hadn’t asked. Even though they weren’t their specific orders, she figured the least she could do was bring them some. She also brought sugar packets and more for them to put additives in their coffees if they wanted to.

Her coffee was gone now, though, along with her teams’, and she sat in the back of the ambulance playing cards with Hen and Chimney as the latter talked about the upcoming birth of his child.

“So Maddie really wants to have this baby at home?” Hen asked him as she placed a card into the pile, Chimney’s turn coming up as he replied, quoting what the mother of his baby had told him, “‘I was a nurse, you’re a paramedic, what could possibly go wrong?’”

The duo with him chuckled as Y/N took her turn, Hen replying to him, “Feels like a 911 dispatcher should know the answer to that question.”

They all laughed at that, Y/N chiming into the conversation, “I think you just need to tell her how you’re feeling. I’m sure she’ll understand your point of view.”

Chimney shrugged, “With all the pregnancy hormones, I’m not so sure.”

Eddie walked over to them, peeking around the edge of the ambulance so that he could see all three of them, “How would you guys feel about pizza?”

“Please!” They all replied in unison.

-

Three hours in

-

“I’m so hungry!” Y/N whined, laying her head on Eddie’s shoulder, the male laughing as he wrapped his arm around her and shook her slightly, “He should be here soon. They mentioned that they had a lot of orders, so it would take a while.”

“It’s been an hour!” She replied as Eddie looked towards the edge of the scene where a pizza man was walking in. He pursed his lips, “I think you might’ve summoned him.”

Then he walked off towards the male, Y/N cheering as her stomach growled, “Finally!”

“Good lord. How much trust are we trying to build here?” Athena asked, causing Eddie to turn to her, “Actually, that’s for us.”

“Why does everybody get to eat but me? Maybe I’m hungry too!” Mr. Nowels, the homeowner, complained, causing Y/N to shrug as she walked closer, “You want a slice?”

Mr. Nowels sighed, having only been trying to make a point, and walked away. Y/N shrugged as Eddie paid the delivery man, the girl grabbing the hot bag and pulling the two boxes out with a grin, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to stuff my face with a slice of pizza.”

Eddie chuckled as she handed the bag back to the delivery driver and waved before he walked off, the duo turning and walking back towards the truck.

“Me either, Y/N. Me either.” Eddie replied.

-

Four hours in

-

Y/N looked to the side and noticed one of the police officers leaning against the fire engine as Buck talked to him, the girl laughing and shaking her head as she walked closer.

“Is he bothering you, sir?” She asked the officer, causing Buck to glance at her with a deadpanned expression.

The officer shook his head, “He’s telling me how his roommate violated ‘bro code’, whatever that is. I don’t think that’s a real thing.”

Y/N looked at Buck with raised brows and a grin as the male sighed and then spoke, trying to defend his point, “How do you know, though? It’s unwritten.”

“How long did you date this woman?” The officer asked him. Y/N crossed her arms with a smirk on her face, watching the interaction as Buck replied, “90 minutes, maybe less. We took dessert to go.”

A watch began beeping, the officer glancing at his wrist, “And I’m done. Good luck.”

Then he walked away, Y/N letting out a low whistle before she began laughing. Buck glared at her, “Shut up!”

Then he took his mask off, throwing it at her, which only made the girl laugh more.

-

Five hours in

-

Eddie quietly began chanting under his breath, leaning against the firetruck as he whispered, “Jump. Jump.”

The rest of the team, except for Buck who wasn’t with them, quickly joined in as they watched the criminal continue to pace on the roof, “Jump. Jump.”

-

Six hours in

-

Y/N sat quietly by herself, Buck with Tayor, Eddie with Athena and Bobby, and then Hen and Chim with each other.

The girl quietly picked at her nails as she waited for something to happen so that they could finally leave this scene.

She heard footsteps, but decided to ignore them, until they came to a stop in front of her. The girl looked up from her hands, looking at the officer who had come up to her.

“What’s a pretty firefighter like you doing all by herself?” He flirted, causing the girl to raise her brows before smiling, “Waiting for this guy to be done pacing on the roof so we can leave.”

“Yeah, I feel you.” He agreed, sitting next to her on the asphalt.

He then looked at her, holding his hand out with a grin, “I’m Anthony, but people always call me Mac because my last name is Macallister.”

“Well, Mac, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled, shaking his hand.

Mac looked over her shoulder for a second, furrowing his brows before bringing his attention back to her, “That blonde firefighter keeps starring at us.”

“Hm?” Y/N hummed before Mac pointed and she turned, making eye contact with Buck, who quickly looked away and continued his conversation with Taylor.

The girl shrugged, “He’s probably just wondering who you are.”

“Yeah, I think he may be a little jealous.” The officer laughed, giving her a knowing look with a smile. Y/N furrowed her brows, shaking her head, “Nah, he doesn’t think of me in that way.”

“You sure?” Mac questioned with raised brows, causing the girl to nod, which prompted another question, “But you like him, right?”

“Is it really that obvious?” She asked with a sigh, causing him to laugh, “Well, I’ve been watching you a bit today- not to sound creepy or anything- and I’ve noticed the stares you give him when he’s talking to that redhead. I just don’t think you realize that he stares at you also.”

Y/N looked at Mac with a small smile, “Yeah, I-”

The girl got interrupted by a loud crash, a car alarm going off. She quickly stood up, looking over towards the criminal and running over there- noticing Mr. Nowels had just pushed him off the room. Internally, she was cheering, knowing she just won the bet, but externally, she began to do her job.

She ignored Mr. Nowels, who was yelling, and ran over to the criminal, Eddie quickly coming over to assist.

They got to work on safely getting him off the car, putting a neck splint on just in case he had a spinal injury before putting him on a backboard and attending to some of his cuts. Hen and Chimney hopped into the back of the ambulance while Eddie went to the front, the rest of the team getting into the fire engine- the ambulance turning on their sirens. Athena followed in her cop car so that she could make sure he was arrested after he got his medical care.

The fire engine drove to the station while the ambulance and police car went to the hospital. Y/N sat in the back of the engine while Bobby drove and Buck sat in the passenger seat.

The latter turned around and looked at the girl, “So, who was that guy you were flirting with?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, “What guy? I wasn’t flirting with anyone.”

“The cop.” Buck elaborated, the girl shaking her head, “Yeah, we were just talking.”

“It looked like more than that.” Buck argued, “What’s his name?”

“You know what? Why does this matter to you?” She spat out, becoming annoyed with his attitude as they pulled into the firestation.

“Because, I…” He began, trailing off and not allowing his next words to come out.

Y/N scoffed, “Unbelieveable.”

And then she rushed out of the engine, missing the look that Bobby gave the blonde male as she went to her locker.

“Idiot.” The older male mumbled to the younger one, causing him to stare at Bobby in disbelief before they both got out of the vehicle.

Y/N angrily got her casual clothes out of her locker, changing and then slamming the metal door shut as Buck walked in.

“Look, Y/N, I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He said as he walked into the glass area.

“Want me to be safe?” She scoffed, “You’re talking about a cop.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, “That doesn’t mean anything. He could still be a jerk!”

“Well, he’s not the one I think is a jerk.” The girl retorted, glaring at him.

“Ok… I deserve that, but-” He began to say, only for her to interrupt him, “Buck, just stop. Why are you so bent out of shape about this anyways? You were flirting with Taylor the whole day and I didn’t complain to you about it even though it annoyed me! So why do you get to complain to me about someone, who wasn’t even flirting with me, giving me attention?”

“Wait- I wasn’t flirting with Taylor.” Buck stated, causing her to look at him, “What?”

“You said you were annoyed with me flirting with Taylor… I- I wasn’t flirting with her. I was just talking to her about the Albert and Veronica stuff because you and Eddie made it clear you didn’t want me to talk to you about it.” He told her.

The girl sighed, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I might’ve been too harsh about that.”

He shook his head, “No, I deserved it. You guys had to listen to me repeat myself multiple times and… I get what you were saying. I’m going to try and be less awkward with Albert about this.”

She smiled and nodded, “Good.”

“And… I’m sorry for bugging you about the cop guy.” He apologized, gaining a nod from Y/N as she grinned, “I appreciate the apology. I know your heart is in a good place, you just didn’t approach it very well.”

He nodded before they went silent, the male thinking about his next sentence while Y/N gathered her stuff, glancing at the entrance of the fire station and noticing the ambulance was pulling in.

“I gotta go talk to Chim, Eddie, and Hen about something, but I’ll see you tomorrow.” The girl smiled, beginning to walk out, but Buck quickly stopped her, “Wait.”

She turned around, raising her brows as an indicator for him to speak, “Why… why were you annoyed when you thought I was flirting with Taylor?”

Y/N just shook her head with a sigh, looking up and waving, not giving him an answer, “Bye, Buck.”

And then she walked out, the male watching her as she walked towards the ambulance.

The girl figured that he could think about it on his own and hopefully come to the correct conclusion.

The three that Y/N had mentioned earlier hopped out of the ambulance, the girl stopping in front of them and holding out her hands.

The trio looked at her with raised brows, and she quickly spoke to ease their confusion, “I won the bet. Mr. Nowels pushed him off the roof. Money, please!”

Then she made grabbing motion with her hands while the three in front of her laughed, Eddie speaking up, “I can’t believe you were right about that.”

Then the money was slammed into her palm from them, the girl grinning, “Thank you all and have a good night!”

She mock-saluted them before turning and walking out of the fire station.

-

The next day, Y/N walked into the fire station with a smile, ready for her shift for the day. 

The girl went to her locker, changing out of her casual clothes and into her fire station shirt along with her turnout pants, putting her gear suspenders over her shoulders.

“Hey, Y/N.” She heard a voice greet, the girl turning and sending a smile Buck’s way as he went to his locker, “Hey.”

“So, I’ve been thinking.” He stated, causing the girl to jokingly reply, “Oh no.”

He looked up at her with a small, joking, glare before continuing his sentence, “I think I figured out why you were annoyed.”

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the lockers, “Well, let’s hear it.”

“It’s because you were jealous.” He smirked, pointing at her before opening his locker and getting his stuff out.

The girl stood, waiting for him to continue. She pursed her lips as he said nothing else and she shrugged, “That’s it?”

He shook his head, “No. You were jealous because you… like me.” 

“Yeah. Apparently I’ve been pretty obvious about it, so I’m a bit surprised you just figured this out.” She said as Eddie walked in, “Actually, he didn’t. I told him.”

The girl looked at him with a dropped jaw, “What?”

And then she glanced back at Buck, who was sending a glare Eddie’s way before he quickly directed his attention back to the girl, “Anyways, with that said, are you doing anything later tonight?”

Y/N tilted her head, raising her brows, “No… why?”

“How about you come to my apartment? I can cook us dinner and we can watch a movie?” He suggested.

The girl grinned, “Is the Evan Buckley asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe. Depends on if you say yes or not.” He said with a small smile. The girl laughed and nodded, “Yes, that sounds great.”

“Finally.” Eddie muttered from behind them, having already changed into his clothes for the work day.

The duo that was just talking both rolled their eyes and turned to their friend, speaking in unison, “Shut up, Eddie.”

Eddie was about to speak before the siren went off, causing them to sigh, Hen peeking her head into the room, “Come on, slowpokes. Let’s go.”

The call rang out through the firestation, informing the group that they were on their way to a house to look for someone inside the walls. 

This meant they needed both the ambulance and the fire engine, so Hen and Chimney took the former while the rest of them piled into the latter.

Eddie and Bobby were in the front while Buck and Y/N were in the back, ready to head to the scene. Eddie turned around and faced his friends as Bobby drove, “So… what movie are you two planning on watching later?”

Y/N rolled her eyes as he wiggled his brows at them, Bobby furrowing his brows in confusion at the interaction while Buck replied, “I’m not sure yet.”

Then he turned to Y/N, “What movies do you like?”

The girl shrugged with pursed lips, “Pretty much anything. I’m a huge horror and comedy fan, though.”

He nodded with a grin while Bobby looked in the rearview mirror, “What’s this for?”

Before the two in the back could reply, Eddie did for them, “Oh, Buck finally asked Y/N out on a date. They’re gonna hang in his apartment and watch a movie.”

Bobby’s brows raised in slight surprise at the information before grinning, “Finally.”

The duos’ jaws dropped, the two replying in unison, “Really?”

Eddie just laughed while Bobby spoke, “Yeah, It’s about time. I can see the way you two look at each other. It was pretty obvious.”

“Okay, no, I might’ve been obvious, but this guy was not!” Y/N argued, pointing at Buck who just shrugged in response.

“Yes, he was. I just think you’re both oblivious.” Bobby said as they pulled into the driveway of the house they were going to enter.

“Hey!” The two shouted at their captain, taking offense to his words. Bobby quickly hopped out of the fire engine, wanting to avoid more words from the duo as they both glanced at each other with shocked looks on their faces, Eddie chuckling as he got out of the passenger door.

Buck stood up and went out, holding a hand for the girl behind him. Y/N gratefully took his hand, hopping down from the engine in her turnouts. 

The group all put their masks on as Bobby shouted, “Buck, grab the saw, the rest of you, head inside.” 

The members of the 118 obeyed their captain, except for Buck who was doing as he was told, quickly following behind him as he grabbed a heat signature camera.

They made their way inside and Athena heard them, shouting to alert them of the room she was in. They team walked into the room, noticing the wife was sat in a chair, hands cuffed behind her back with an officer standing behind her as Buck jogged into the room with the large tool in his hand.

“Kinky.” Y/N muttered jokingly, the group looking at her with deadpanned expressions at her words while the wife scoffed.

“What?” The girl asked, Bobby rolling his eyes before turning to his wife and pulling out the heat signature camera, turning it on and scanning the walls by the window.

He looked through the lens, noticing a figure on the screen that was moving, “I’ve got movement.”

“What?” The wife behind them questioned, causing the group to turn towards her, “He’s still alive?”

Once she noticed their expressions, she was quick to change up her words, “I mean… great!”

“Why don’t you start by telling me how exactly your husband got behind that wall?” Athena asked with raised brows.

“Ex-husband. Or at least, soon to be. He filed right before the pandemic-” The wife began to explain, talking about how the courts closed and they were trapped in a house together during COVID. 

Buck raised his brows, leaning in towards Y/N, “If this date doesn’t go the way you expect, do you promise to not put me inside the walls?”

The girl shrugged with a smirk, “No promises.”

Buck turned to Hen, “You heard that right? You’re my witness if something happens to me.”

The woman turned away from him, pursing her lips and feigning confusion, “What did I hear? I didn’t hear anything.”

Y/N grinned, holding up a fist for Hen to fist bump, which she did. Buck’s jaw dropped in disbelief, “Wow.”

After the woman finished explaining her story, Chimney and Hen ran to get their medical supplies while Eddie went and grabbed the needed items to get behind the brick wall.

Once they returned, Eddie handed Buck the chisel and a hammer, giving one to Bobby as well. The duo quickly began hammering away at the bricks in their weak spots, waiting for when they were loose to pull them away. Slowly, a hole began to form in the wall, Bobby yanking the bricks from their position and dropping them onto the ground behind him, “I think I can see him!”

Once the hole was big enough, Y/N knelt down and reached her hand towards the male, “Can you give me your hand, sir?”

She grabbed his wrist as he reached towards her, the girl gently beginning to pull him out, Buck coming to assist her. “You got him, Buck?” She asked as he reached and grabbed the male’s other hand.

“Yeah, we’re good.” He replied, the girl nodding, “Okay, ready, set-” 

“Go.” She then said, both of them tugging him through the hole and onto the backboard.

Y/N was quick to put on medical gloves while Eddie began checking for a pulse and if the male was breathing or not with his stethoscope, “He’s breathing, but barely. Only one side of his chest is rising.”

Y/N reached under the male before pulling her gloved hand back, showing the blood on it, “Stab wound.”

Eddie nodded, “He probably has a punctured lung.”

“Looks like he lost a ton of blood, not to mention extreme dehydration.” Hen said, getting the bag from her medkit, “I’m gonna run two lines wide open.”

“Alright, let’s get him stabilized and prepped for transport.” Bobby ordered, watching over the group as they did what was necessary.

Once they were done, Chimney and Eddie lifted the backboard and began to walk out of the house, Y/N noticing that the other officer that was there had taken the wife away.

The rest of the group began gathering their other tools before returning to the fire engine and putting everything away, the ambulance heading to the hospital while the engine went back to the station.

-

Once the shift was over, Y/N headed to her locker, doing her quick routine of getting back into her casual clothes so that she could leave.

Buck walked in and smiled at her, the girl giving him a grin back as she put her work necessities in her locker, “So… what time should I get to your place?”

“How does 7 sound?” He asked her, opening his locker and taking his shirt off so that he could change.

The girl’s eyes trailed down before she heard Buck laugh, Y/N quickly bringing her gaze up and noticing that he had caught her. She cleared her throat, “7 sounds great.”

“Great.” He grinned, finishing what he needed to do. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before sending a wink her way and walking out the door, “See you then!”

Y/N’s cheeks turned red as Hen walked into the locker room and spotted the girl standing there, looking dazed. “Someone’s blushing.” The woman stated with a cheeky smirk.

Y/N threw her dirty shirt at Hen in response, causing the woman to laugh and throw it back at her before the former walked out of the locker room with her keys in hand, going to her apartment to prepare for her date.

-

Y/N took the elevator up to Buck’s floor, the girl wearing a dark blue dress that reached her mid-thigh, a black sweater wrapped around her shoulders. She slung her small purse over her shoulder as the elevator reached his floor, Y/N quickly stepping out in her black heels and walking to his door.

Once she reached his apartment, she lifted her hand, knocking on the dark wood and waiting for Buck to answer the door.

Instead of Buck, though, his roommate answered, Y/N smiling at him, “Hey, Albert, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Buck didn’t mention that you were the one he was dating.” Albert commented, “He’s in the bathroom right now.”

The girl nodded, walking into the door as he stepped to the side, “It’s been a while since i’ve seen you. It’s nice to see…”

She trailed off as her eyes met with the girl in the kitchen, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Buck stepped into the room as Albert introduced the woman, noticing Y/N’s confusion, “Oh, that’s Veronica.”

“Well it’s nice to see you and Veronica, Albert.” Y/N muttered with a clenched jaw, making eye contact with Buck as he gave her a sheepish glance.

“Dinner’s not ready yet, but it should be soon.” Buck told his date, trying to act normal as the girl made eye contact with Albert’s girlfriend once more.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Veronica asked with a smile, Y/N quickly nodding, “Yes, please. I could desperately use a glass right about now.”

Then the girl placed her bag on the table as Buck came over, placing a hand on the small of her back, “Uh.. shall we?”

He gestured over to the couch, Y/N moving so that his hand slipped off of her as she made her way to the piece of furniture.

“You lied to me.” She muttered as he followed, the male shaking his head, “Technically… I didn’t. I-”

She stopped walking, turning and facing him with an angry glare, her eyes growing watery but she wouldn’t dare to let her tears fall- at least not right now, “That’s not the point, Evan. You failed to mention that this was going to be a double date with ‘bad date girl’ and your roommate. I kind of count that as lying.”

The girl then continued making her way to the couch, muttering under her breath as she took a seat, “I wouldn’t have said yes if I knew you were just going to be using me.”

Buck looked at her like a deer in headlights, opening his mouth to speak but not getting the chance to spit a word out as Veronica and Albert walked back over, the former speaking as she handed Y/N her wine glass, “Dinner is going to take a few more minutes, but I figured we could do appetizers while we wait.”

She then sat down, Y/N quickly taking a sip out of her glass as Veronica spoke up once more, “How long have you two been dating?”

“I was wondering that too, Buck. How come you never said anything? Y/N’s awesome!” Albert chimed in, Y/N immediately giving him a response before Buck could speak, “Oh, that’s because we aren’t dating. He just wanted me here so he wouldn’t be a third wheel. We’re just friends.” 

She then looked at the male next to her, “Right?”

Evan avoided her question, looking at Veronica as he began to talk, “We actually work together. She’s been my partner-in-crime for as long as I can remember.”

“I’d gladly let Eddie take that spot now.” The girl murmured quietly before looking up and smiling at the duo in front of her, “And I know how you two met. Buck has told me about it. Quite a few times, actually.”

The male beside her shook his head, “I- I wouldn’t say that-”

Veronica just looked at them with raised brows as Albert chimed in, gesturing to his girlfriend and his roommate, “I’m actually surprised you two didn’t get along.”

Y/N took a long gulp from her glass before nodding, and nudging Buck with her shoulder, “Yeah. This guy sometimes doesn’t know how to act around women. His ego deflates when someone doesn’t immediately like him.”

“Yeah, I don’t stroke anyones’ egos. That’s not my thing.” Veronica replied with a small shrug, causing Y/N to nod, “Good for you. I think I’m going to try that also.”

She then set the glass down, pulling her phone out from her sweater pocket as her tears were about to spill over. Y/N cleared her throat, standing up as she lied, “Sorry, my coworker, Eddie, just texted me. It’s an emergency and he needs someone to watch his son last minute. I gotta go.”

The girl then pocketed her phone once more, smiling at the pair in front of her, “It was nice seeing you again, Albert- and it was nice meeting you, Veronica.”

“You too.” She heard them say from behind her as she rushed to grab her purse, opening the apartment door and wiping her eyes as she began to walk towards the elevator.

“Y/N- Y/N, wait!” Buck yelled from behind her, the girl listening as his footsteps sped down the hallway, “I know Eddie didn’t actually text you, okay? It’s not what you think!”

She turned, looking up at the ceiling to prevent the water from spilling from her eyes and once she felt that it wouldn’t, she looked back down at him, “What? That you never actually wanted to go on a date with me and that you were just using my feelings for you to get them to see you with someone? Fuck you.”

Then the girl turned back around, Buck quickly grabbing onto her wrist and turning her back towards him, “No- it’s not like that-”

Y/N yanked her wrist from his grasp, “Don’t- Don’t touch me. You… God, I mean, you decided to hurt me just because you can’t stand the idea of someone not liking you? Are you serious?”

“No, that’s- I mean…” He shrugged with a false smile, “Come on, I’m very likeable.”

The girl stood there in silence, swallowing the lump in her throat as a tear finally made it’s way down her face. Buck sighed, glancing off to the side before making eye contact with her, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? Look, Albert invited me over and I knew it was gonna be super awkward, and I didn’t want to sit through that alone. So I asked a friend.”

Y/N gave him a watery smile, “Right. A friend. ‘Cause that’s all I am to you.”

She sniffled as Buck’s heart dropped, the girl wiping her tears before speaking once more, “You could’ve just told me the situation and then asked me as a friend. You didn’t have to lie about having feelings for me.”

A scoff left her lips, the girl continuing, “I mean… If this is how you decide to treat your ‘friends’, maybe the problem isn’t Albert.”

Her eyes met his, “Maybe it’s you.”

Then she turned, walking away from him, hoping he’d say something as she left…

But he said nothing.

So she continued on her way, getting into the elevator and letting the doors close before her tears began to run down her face at a faster pace.

Y/N pulled out her phone as the elevator doors opened to the lobby, the girl pulling up Eddie’s contact, about to hit the call button- but her phone rang before she could.

She raised her brows as she noticed it was the man she was about to call, Y/N hitting answer and bringing the phone to her ear, “Hey, I was just about to-”

He cut her off as he began speaking in a panicked tone, “I need your help, Chris is missing and-”

Her jaw dropped at the words, the girl turning and making her way towards the building exit, but she quickly stopped in her tracks as Chris walked through the lobby doors.

Eddie was still rambling on the other side of the line, Y/N cutting him off so that she could let him know his son was safe, “Eddie, he’s here.”

“At Buck’s place?” He asked on the other side of the line, Y/N nodding even though he couldn’t see her as she replied, “Yeah. He’s here.”

“Okay, I’ll be there to get him soon.”

And then he hung up, Y/N wiping her face before she walked towards the kid who was making his way towards the elevators, “Chris, what are you doing here?”

“I had a fight with my dad. I came here to see Buck.” He informed her, the girl nodding and hitting the up button to the elevator, “Okay, I’ll take you up to him. You can’t run off like this though, your dad is worried sick.”

“Did you talk to him?” The kid asked her, glancing up as they entered the elevator. She nodded, “Yeah, he called me just as you walked in. He’s coming to get you. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He sighed, the adult next to him humming in acknowledgement as they reached Buck’s floor, the duo leaving the elevator and walking to his apartment.

Chris knocked on the door, the girl next to him beginning to walk away, but the kid turned to her, “Wait, where are you going?”

She sighed, “Buck and I aren’t really on good terms right now, buddy. I just wanted to make sure you got here safe.”

Buck opened the door as Chris replied, “I want you to stay.”

“Want who to st-” The older male began to ask before he peeked out of the door and noticed who he was talking about, “-oh.”

“Fine.” The woman muttered, walking into the apartment behind Chris, noticing that Albert and Veronica were now gone and it was just them three in the living space.

“Does your dad know you’re here, Chris?” The male asked the child, who was quick to respond, “Yes, he called Y/N.”

Buck then looked at the girl for confirmation, her nodding in response, “He called me as I was leaving to ask for help finding Chris, but he was walking into the building. Eddie is on his way to pick him up.”

He pursed his lips and then looked at Chris as the said kid sat on the couch, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Chris shook his head as Buck sat on the table, Y/N leaning against the wall near the TV, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, you’re here, so we gotta talk about something.” He said to the child, using a gentle tone with him. Once Chris didn’t reply, Buck sighed, speaking once more, “Come on, look, you were there for me when I needed to talk, so now I want to be here for you. It’s what friends do.”

Y/N scoffed under her breath at that, the action not going unnoticed by Buck as Chris replied, “Dad’s dating.”

The girl gave him a sympathetic look as Buck continued to interact with the boy, “Yeah, that’s gotta be weird for you, huh? Maybe it feels like he’s forgetting your mom, but, Chris, I promise you-”

Chris sighed, interrupting the male, “I wish I could forget.”

Y/N pushed off the wall at that and moved closer, sitting on the table next to Buck and talking to Chris, “What do you mean by that, bud?”

“People go away. Not just mom.” He stated sadly, “Abuelita, Carla, my friends… they leave, and then I miss them. I don’t want to miss anyone else.”

The adults in front of him nodded in acknowledgement, sad looks on their faces as Buck spoke again, “Yeah, um… people- people go away… and i-it’s sad, and it hurts. But, you know, not everyone goes away for forever. Sometimes they come back, and as much as we miss them, that’s how happy we are seeing them again. Your grandma, your friends, Carla… you’re gonna see them all again.”

“Do you promise?” Chris asked.

“I do. And until that happens, you still got us.” Buck replied, gesturing to him and the girl next to him, Y/N sending a small smile Chris’ way and nodding in agreement as she spoke, “We aren’t going anywhere.”

Chris got up, opening his arms and pulling the two adults into a hug. One of Buck’s arms wrapped around Chris while the other wound around Y/N, the young boy’s head in between both of theirs.

“You guys are good friends.” The kid said to them, his arms hanging around their shoulders.

Buck glanced at Y/N over Chris’ back and spoke, “Yeah… sometimes.”

He then patted his back and pulled away, Y/N giving Chris one last final squeeze before doing the same, a knock coming on the door soon after.

All of them stood up, Buck going to the door and opening it, Eddie quickly rushing in.

Once his eyes locked on Chris, he moved forwards, encasing his son in a hug and muttering to him, “Don’t run away like that again, okay? You can’t scare me like that.”

Chris nodded into his shoulder, “I’m sorry, dad.”

“It’s okay, bud.” He replied, pulling away from the hug and standing up, “Let’s go home, okay?”

The kid nodded and Y/N smiled at the duo before looking at the younger boy, “Tell him what you told us. He’ll understand.”

Chris nodded once more, grabbing his crutches and making his way towards the door while Eddie looked at his friends, “Thank you guys.”

And then they went to walk out, Eddie turning around and speaking once again, “You’ll have to let me know how the date went later, okay?”

Y/N pursed her lips while Buck sent a smile his way, the door closing behind the father-son duo.

“Well, I’m gonna go also.” The girl then said, pulling her sweater closer to her frame in an attempt to close herself off as she began to walk towards the door.

“Or… you could stay? And we can try this again?” The male spoke, stepping in front of her in an attempt to stop her from leaving.

She sighed, “Look, you don’t have to pretend to have feelings for me just because you-”

He was quick to cut her off, “It’s not pretend. I’m sorry for making it seem like it was, and I’m sorry for earlier. I do have feelings for you and I should’ve asked you out on a first date a long time ago. I know I messed up tonight, but let me try to make it right, okay? With just us two. If you still hate me later, you never have to talk to me again. I’ll transfer firehouses and be out of your sight for forever.”

Y/N huffed, setting her purse down on the table, “Fine, and even if I hate you by the end of this, which is impossible because I could never hate you- even after what happened earlier, I’d never make you do that. I know how much the 118 means to you.”

He just smiled at her and nodded, one of his hands grabbing her own, “So? What do you want to eat?”

He dragged her to the kitchen, opening the pantry and showing her the stuff he had and giving her an idea of what could be made.

She pursed her lips, “How about we just have some takeout delivered? And watch a movie like we were talking about earlier today?”

Buck squeezed her hand, “Sounds perfect.”

Then he kissed her cheek before making a call to her favorite takeout place while she picked the movie they would watch.

She didn’t notice, but Buck watched as she sat on his couch, making herself at home while she picked the movie.

And he couldn’t help but think how nice this sight would be to see everyday.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Hey I saw your old post asking which fanfics you should do next. I know it didn’t win but could you please please please do “Tell Me You Love Me Again” with Eddie. Im in dire need of some good angst ❤️

Tell Me You Love Me Again

Sorry this took me so long to write! I have had some massive writer's block. Hopefully, this is okay!

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x reader

Story Type: Angst

Warning: Y/N use, swearing, Eddie's a bit of a greedy ass ngl

Summary: You've been with Eddie since before he was famous. It used to be a loving relationship. As the years have passed, things have changed. Can you save the dying spark between you?

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□

"Baby, you wanted to talk. Why are we just sitting here in silence?" Eddie asks with a grin. He casually flips through a music magazine, observing all of the new instruments for sale.

I take a deep breath. How do I even start this conversation? He's been so busy launching his band's new line of merch that I doubt this is a great time to talk about our relationship. Who knows when we'll have another opportunity? This is the first time I've been able to see him privately in weeks. I don't know how long I can keep harboring my frustrations.

"We do need to talk...here goes nothing." I sigh. "It's about our relationship."

Eddie pulls his eyes away from his magazine, his smile fading into a serious expression. "What about it?"

"I've been feeling very frustrated lately. I feel like you're never home, and I never get to see you anymore. I miss you." I reply honestly.

Eddie sets the magazine on top of the coffee table that separates us. "I know it's been busy lately, but it's great for us! Now I can take you anywhere you want to go. Name any place, and I can bring you there." Eddie's playful smile returns.

I let out a tired laugh. "Eddie, that's nice and all, but the problem is you don't have the time to take me anywhere I want to go. I just want you to dial it back a bit, please. Spend more time with me, and I'm sure Wayne would love it if you spent some time with him, too."

I'm not even sure if Eddie has time to call Wayne anymore. I might be the only one talking to him regularly.

"I spend plenty of time with Wayne." Eddie's expression is slightly offended.

"It's just the past year; you've rarely been back. Can't you take some time off? Cancel a few tour dates or reschedule some photoshoots?"

"I can't just abandon my career, Y/N. My band has worked so hard for this." Eddie argues. "It wouldn't be fair to the boys."

"What about what's fair to me, Eddie?" I let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not asking you to abandon anything, Eddie. I just think you should prioritize our relationship a little more. We barely see each other anymore!" My heart pounds. "When you're not on tour, you're constantly doing promotional videos or photoshoots. We haven't gone on a date in almost a month."

My flurry of emotions has caused tears to prick the back of my eyes. Fuck, I can't cry right now.

Eddie's shoulders are tense. His usual animated and playful exterior is replaced with a frustrated and angry one. One I rarely see, especially not when talking to me.

"That's part of the job. I'm a fucking rockstar, Y/N. I can't exactly blow off the world tours and photoshoots. My label and manager expects me to get shit out quickly. You don't understand! The moment I stop making songs and producing new shit, the moment all of this, " He gestures around the room to all of his expensive nicknacks and furniture. "disappears. I'll become irrelevant. My band will become irrelevant. This is my life, Y/N. And you're going to need to learn to accept it."

My frown deepens. "Do you hear yourself? How can you not see how greedy you're becoming? What happened to just loving music? Loving the art of creating, no matter how many people heard. When did this all become about money?" I stand up from my spot on Eddie's couch, needing to put some distance between myself and the man. I avoid making eye contact with him, knowing if I do, I'll burst into tears.

This room suddenly feels so suffocating. "Is this really all you care about? How many shows you can sell out? How deep your pockets can get?"

"For fucks sake, Y/N." Eddie groans as he leans back against his recliner. His head hits the back of the seat, an annoyed expression flashing across his face. "You're being so fucking dramatic."

I shake my head. "This is not what I signed up for. You are not the man I signed up to be with."

Eddie stiffens. Hurt crosses his eyes. His face turns stoic as he looks me dead in the eye. A dark anger replaces his hurt. "Things change. People change. Obviously, I've changed. If you hate me so fucking much, why don't you get the fuck out and find someone new? Someone who better suits your lifestyle since you're not happy with me."

I freeze. My heart drops at his bitter words. He's never spoken to me like this before.

He's so different than the man I fell in love with all those years ago. Life seemed simpler in Hawkins. I'd work the night shift at The Hideout and he'd play with his band. I was able to see him regularly while he was still able to do what he loved. No massive world tours to separate us for months. No partying until early the next day. Just the two of us, supporting each other and doing what we loved.

I feel my cheeks heat from embarrassment and anger. He's right. He's changed, and it's obviously been for the worse. "You know what, you're right."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly in surprise, like he didn't think I'd agree.

"You don't want to work this out like an adult, so I'm going to leave. We're done, Eddie. I can't do this anymore. I deserve someone willing to set aside time for me. I shouldn't be the only one giving 100% to the relationship. I need someone who respects me and what I need. You can't give that to me." I grab my purse from the couch. I pause right before I reach the door. " Eddie, " I turn to look back at the man.

He doesn't meet my gaze. His eyes are trained on his locked hands. He looks like he's in disbelief.

"I hope you find what you're looking for. Just know that you'll never have enough money or fame to please yourself. Materialistic things can only bring you so much happiness. You'll suffer until you realize that. I just hope it isn't too late when you finally do."

With that, I leave the apartment. As soon as the door behind me clicks shut, the tears begin to fall. I lean against the wall near Eddie's door and wrap my arms around myself for some sort of support.

I wish he loved me enough to apologize. I wish he would come out here, tell me he was wrong, and that he was going to try to fix things.

I finally garner the strength to push away from Eddie's wall and make my way downstairs. With every step, I think of new things I wish Eddie would do.

When I take my last step out of the apartment building, disappointment settles in my chest as I realize none of my wishes came true.

Eddie's a rockstar. He'll never love me as much as he loves his lifestyle.

I was stupid to think he'd always be the man I fell in love with in Hawkins, Indiana.

[straows]

You’re insecure and Gojo just wants to make you feel goo.

Tw: insecurities, praise, nsfw, angst with comfort, happy ending, body worship, short blurb (I’m high and it’s 2:00 pm)

His hands were everywhere. Grabbing your hips, waist and reaching up to pull your head to the side by your hair so he could mark up your neck.

“Gojo…” you’d whine, hands clutching his shirt. He had you pinned against the wall. You two had gotten back from a banquet, and you were in the prettiest black dress.

“Ah.” He’d huff in annoyance when you’d use his family name. So formal still. “That’s not my name, pretty.”

Sighing, your cheeks a bright red, “𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 please.” You’d beg so sweetly.

However, when he actually began to unzip your dress, you inhaled sharply and quickly dropped to your knees.

This would be the first time he’d ever see you naked and… you were scared. You’d always had problems with body image, and Gojo was so pretty… you didn’t want him to be grossed out by you. Even tho you were literally drop dead gorgeous.

Gojo blinked in surprise when you had gone to your knees so quickly. And as happy as he was to receive a blow job from you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Hey wait, come back up here baby.” He’d speak so softly as he pulled you back up.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him nervously, your nails digging into your palms to try to and calm yourself.

“Why are you hiding from me?” He cupped your cheeks in his hands and rest his forehead against yours.

“What- what do you mean?” You had to swallow down the nerves to speak, avoiding his eyes as you instead looked at his nose.

“You’re doing it again. Look at me.” He would tilt your chin up so you’d have to look at him. “You know you’re gorgeous, right?”

“Satoru…” you’d sigh, feeling the need to pull away and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue, “this won’t do.” Gojo guided you back to the bed before laying you down. “You’re 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. In every single way.” He’d kiss your jaw, then your neck, then the tops of breasts. Before slowly unzipping your dress.

His words made your cheeks flush and your thighs tighten. Your mind becoming all soft and fluffy at his praise.

“I could spend a millennia studying your body,” he’d murmur against the skin of calf as he pulled your dress off you slowly, “and not find a single flaw.”

His eyes raked over your figure and he could feel his cock throb in his boxers. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.” Kissing back up your thigh, stomach and chest, he finally kissed your lips.

And instead of wanting to hide, you felt more confident. Knowing you had this effect on THE Gojo Satoru? You definitely felt a little better.

“Ok.”

“Okay?” Gojo parroted your words, his eyes low as kept eye contact with you.

“Okay. I believe you.” You’d smile before pressing your lips against his once more, wrapping your thighs around his hips to pull him in.

“There she is.” He’d murmur against your lips, groaning as he’d grind against your panty clad cunt.