#check ins with sarah maybe?

[luvrrszn]

messy

RAFE CAMERON x FEM READER (18+)

summary coming back from college, the last thing hookup!rafe expects to return to is rumours that you’ve been sleeping with jj

warnings angst, happy ending though!, lowkey miscommunication, all characters r of age !! brief jj x reader but that's just for the plot okay...

a/n ok stay with me now basically reader is 18 (graduated hs, but taking a gap year) and she's the same age as jj/john b/everyone else while rafe is 19 and was having his first year in college !! yo why did this idea lowkey come to me in a dream during a nap Zzzzzz and ooc kelce for this one my bad

masterlist

it was supposed to be a summer thing.

something fun, fleeting, memorable yet forgettable. a secret, of course, because rafe would never risk his reputation by being seen with a pogue, would he?

but the sneaking around was useless, everyone knew that something was happening between the two of you. well, everyone that mattered anyway. they saw the way his eyes lingered a second too long on you, how his grip tightened just a little when he led you through crowded rooms. they noticed how you always left parties together.

but none of that meant anything.

it's casual, it's just convenient.

that's what the both of you told anyone and everyone who asked.

that's what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself wanting more.

especially when rafe told you he was moving away for college.

—

at first, you waited.

you told yourself it was a polite thing to do, waiting for some time before getting with someone else.

but in reality, you were waiting before moving on, in hopes that you'd get a text from rafe, who was hundreds of miles away, a text that would change your relationship.

but it never came.

then the daily check-ins and "miss u babe" texts lessen in frequency.

you're lucky if you get a text once a week.

you think maybe he's just busy. give him the benefit of the doubt right? maybe he's still trying to cope with the new workload, or making new friends.

you're proved wrong when you click on topper's close friends' story on instagram.

weekend after weekend, rafe's clubbing, partying, with a different girl on his lap each time.

well, if he's clearly not bothered to text, why bother waiting?

—

and when he finally remembers that his sweet girl is waiting for him, you're not waiting anymore.

you don't even bother to open his texts.

why?

because you're too busy having fun with jj!

it's casual, fun, spontaneous with jj. you don't have to worry about being seen "too close" in public, it's just you and jj maybank having fun!

you party, go to the beach, hanging out with your friends. you surround yourself with your people, always making sure you're too busy to be thinking about rafe. you bury your feelings deep, and do anything you can to take your mind off of it.

having grown close to rafe's friends too, you go to parties on both figure eight and the cut, always with jj. and you make damn sure everyone sees.

you secretly hope rafe's friends tell him.

—

in the weeks that follow, you're too busy having fun fooling around and partying with jj to notice the text from rafe that tells you he's coming back for winter break.

—

"hey, you gotta hurry a lil if you wanna get some of the good booze before the kooks get 'em all!" jj yells at you from down the stairs.

"i'm coming, just wait!" you huff as you struggle with your earrings as you walk down the stairs. you had spent the night at sarah's just so you could get to the party down the street more easily.

when you get to the landing of the stairs, jj lets out a low whistle as you do a little spin. you're wearing a short sparkly skirt that barely covers anything, and a very low-cut black lace tank. remembering that it was rafe's favourite outfit of yours sends a pang of sadness through your chest, but you push it aside.

the moment you step out onto the street, you can already hear the loud music blasting from the house down the street. you and jj race down the road, and of course you win! (he let you win...)

"yo! see you brought your little dog with you today." kelce chuckles, handing you and jj a bottle of beer each as you two enter through the front door.

"hey, y'know i'm just playing. good to see you, maybank." kelce says, arms up in mock surrender once you glare at him. he winks at you, and then he disappears into the crowd.

after dancing for what felt like an eternity, you slip upstairs to the bathroom to get a bit of air and space.

when you finally push open the bathroom door, the muffled bass from the party instantly flooding back into your ears. the air is thick with smoke and spilled liquor, the dim hallway lights flickering unevenly. as you step out, adjusting your top, your breath catches in your throat.

there he is.

rafe fucking cameron, back from college, standing at the bottom of the stairs like he never left.

he's leaning against the wall, one hand lazily gripping a red solo cup, the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans. his gaze is already on you—intense, unreadable. the kind that makes your stomach flip in a way you wish it wouldn’t.

you immediately look around for an escape route and you realise you're fucked, with no way out except down the stairs, past him, and out the front door. when you finally refocus your gaze on rafe, he looks different, somehow. sharper. more tired. tall, so tall. you don't remember him being that tall.

but despite everything, he's still the same rafe—the same cocky tilt of his head, the same way he takes up too much space without even trying.

you force yourself to keep walking, gripping the wooden railing as you descend the stairs, ignoring the way your pulse pounds in your ears. you won’t give him the satisfaction of stopping.

but of course, rafe doesn’t let that happen.

the moment your foot touches the last step, his free hand curls around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. the grip isn’t tight, but it’s enough—enough to send a shiver up your spine, enough to remind you that he’s right here.

"didn’t think i’d see you here, bug," he drawls, voice thick with amusement. his fingers skim down your arm, lazy and deliberate. familiar. "heard you’ve been keeping yourself entertained while I was gone."

your plan worked. he'd heard about you and jj. but why on earth were you feeling like absolute shit?

you wriggle out of his grip.

"get out of my way, rafe." you grit out before darting through the crowd and out of the front door.

but he's hot on your tail. he's not letting you go, not this time.

he grabs your waist and spins you around, holding you in place this time, so you don’t slip away.

"don’t act like you care now, rafe. let me go." your voice is soft, pleading almost.

his smirk falters for half a second. but then, just like that, it’s back—only meaner this time.

"oh, but i do," he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "see, i come home after months away, and what do i hear?" he tilts his head, eyes dark. "that my girl has been playing house with a pogue?"

the way he calls you his girl doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you’re too angry to care.

"but that’s the thing, rafe! i am a pogue! i’ve always been, and that’s the issue you’ve always had! you’ve always been too ashamed of that, so why do you care about me now? you can’t move away and expect me to turn my life upside down for you once you get tired of college girls and come back to outer banks!"

and for a while, rafe is stunned. he’s never seen you this angry.

rafe’s jaw tightens. his grip on your hip flexes before he snatches his hand away, like your skin suddenly burns him. his smirk is long gone now, replaced by something darker—something stormy.

"that’s not—" he starts, but he stops himself, exhaling sharply through his nose. he drags a hand down his face, as if physically trying to pull himself together.

because you’re right. and he hates that.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of whatever he’s trying not to say. when he finally looks at you again, his eyes are sharp, frustrated.

"you think i don’t care?" his voice is lower now, rougher. "you think i came back and the first thing i did was find you because i don’t give a shit?"

you fold your arms over your chest, willing yourself to hold your ground. "i think you came back because you ran out of things to distract yourself with," you snap. "and now you’re just—what? picking up where you left off? you don’t get to do that, rafe."

before you can react, he pulls you into his chest. your enveloped by his familiar smell, his cologne, his shampoo. he has one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. his chin rests on the top of your head.

you don’t even notice you’ve started crying until you feel rafe’s grip tighten, his hand splaying against the small of your back like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"shh," he mutters, his breath warm against your hair. his voice has lost its usual edge, no more cocky drawl, no more sharpness. just rafe. just the boy who used to sneak into your room at night when he had nowhere else to go. just the boy who left, but still came back.

you try to push away, but he doesn’t let you—not completely. his hold loosens just enough for you to look up at him, your vision blurred with tears.

"you don’t get to do this," you whisper, voice shaking. "you don’t get to leave and come back like nothing happened. like i—like i didn’t—" you cut yourself off before the words spill out.

like i didn't matter

like i didn't miss you

like i didn't love you.

rafe stares at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. his thumb swipes gently over your cheek, catching a stray tear. the touch is so soft, so familiar, so cruel.

"you think i didn’t miss you?" his voice is hoarse now, strained, like he can’t believe you’d ever doubt it. "you think i wasn’t losing my fucking mind without you?"

your breath hitches.

when you finally regain your composure, you whisper, "you left for college, rafe. what was i supposed to do? wait around for you?"

rafe exhales sharply, shaking his head, "it's not about that. it's about you acting like you didn't care when i left—then immediately turning around and shacking up with jj!"

"you are mad that i didn't wait around for you!" you scoff incredulously.

you shake your head, scoffing again. "unbelievable." you turn to leave, trying to escape his embrace, because if you stay, you’ll say something you’ll regret. but before you can take a step, you're right back in rafe's arms again.

"i didn’t think i had to ask," he says quietly.

you freeze. his voice isn’t angry anymore—it’s something else, something raw, something that makes your chest ache.

"i thought you knew."

you swallow hard, refusing to look up at him. "knew what, rafe?"

he lets out a breath, tipping your chin up with his fingers so you look at him.

"that it was never just a summer thing for me."

rafe's confession leaves you breathless.

"and because i can’t stand watching you act like i don’t mean anything to you when i know that’s not true." he continues, voice softer, warmer.

your stomach twists. "you don’t know anything."

rafe steps closer, his hands settling lightly on your waist. "don’t i?" his voice is lower now, rougher. "you think i don’t notice the way you look at me? that i don’t feel it every time you’re near me?"

you shake your head, but your fingers have already found the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

"you’re full of shit."

"maybe." his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, but there’s something softer in his expression. "but you still want me."

you hate that he’s right. you hate that no matter how mad you are, no matter how much you try to push him away, you still want him just as much as you always have.

and he knows it.

rafe leans in, his nose brushing against yours, giving you every opportunity to stop him.

you don’t.

the moment your lips meet, it’s over. the tension snaps, the anger dissolving into something hungrier, needier. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you let him, let yourself melt into him like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

because maybe it is.

"so what now?" you whisper, voice somewhat uncertain.

rafe exhales a small laugh, shaking his head. "whatever you want."

you roll your eyes. "that’s not an answer."

"wow, i could feel you rolling your eyes."

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "then here’s one: i want you. not just when it’s easy, not just when it’s convenient. i want you."

"no more sneaking around?"

"no more sneaking around." he smirks. "i’ll even let jj live."

you shove at his chest, laughing despite yourself, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight that’s been sitting in your chest lifts.

[dpwromcomfest]

Welcome to Deadpool and Wolverine Rom-Com Fest 2025!

Still stuck in DPW hell? Got a boner for rom-coms? Love to create Frankensteineqsue beauties for the world to see? Strap on, this might be the fest for you. Below is a list of rom-coms that can be claimed, starting now. The goal is to make a work for your claim that may be written content or a piece of art (both, if you're nasty) in the plot of that rom-com. Any medium of art and/or writing is allowed, but for fanfiction, there is a minimum requirement of 1500 words. This fest is any pairings (or no pairings at all <3 un-rom those coms) within in the DPW movieverse. If you want to participate, enter your contact details in this form and choose 5 of the prompts you’re interested in filling, starting with the first one being your most preferred. First come, first serve! Claims will close April 12th, and then you will have until June 30th to complete your work. On June 30th, we will start posting. There will be a few check-ins/reminders and a couple other points of contact before then, just so you don't forget or need to discuss participation. If you have any questions or concerns, contact this blog or @sleepwalk-living. You can also reach me on Discord @ andersontwerks, or join our Creator's Discord! Good luck, have fun!

Claims List:

13 Going on 30

Ella Enchanted

50 First Dates (claimed)

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

The Proposal (claimed)

Just Friends

Scott Pilgrim vs the World

Easy A

Kate and Leopold (claimed)

Overboard 

Notting Hill

When Harry Met Sally 

Sleepless in Seattle 

You’ve Got Mail (claimed)

The F Word/What If

Love Actually

The Kissing Booth 

Ticket to Paradise 

Holidate 

Marry Me

Friends With Benefits 

Grease (claimed)

The Princess Bride 

Enchanted (claimed)

Midnight in Paris 

Four Weddings and a Funeral 

The Parent Trap (claimed)

Princess Diaries (claimed)

Red White and Royal Blue (claimed)

About Time 

Crazy Stupid Love 

Runaway Bride 

Forgetting Sarah Marshall 

She’s The Man 

Pretty Woman (claimed)

Ghost

27 Dresses

Just My Luck (claimed)

Definitely Maybe

Hot Frosty (claimed)

(insert your choice here)

[rafesbabygirlx]

FORGET ME NOT | Part 2

𝚂4!𝚁𝙰𝙵𝙴 𝚇 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

Summary: 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚊, 𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 - 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝙰 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙽𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎𝚜- 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝-𝚖𝚎-𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍.

1.3k words 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 -> Part 2 -> 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 3 -> 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 4

After spending an entire week in the house alone, Rafe had torn through every drawer, closet, and corner of both his office and bedroom, desperately searching for any sign of what he was so sure had once been there. He overturned boxes, rifled through old notebooks, examined every article of clothing and piece of furniture, convinced there had to be a clue, something to explain the constant feeling that someone else had been there with him.

But all he found was the cold silence of a house that refused to give up its secrets. There was no trace of another person. No stray hairs on the pillow. No lingering scent on the sheets. Just the flowers still sitting in the center of the kitchen island. Once vibrant and full of life, they now drooped lifelessly in a bone-dry vase. Dead petals had fallen, curled up and circled the glass as if mourning something invisible.

He felt completely hopeless. His body, still weakened from the accident, gave out beneath the weight of exhaustion and frustration, even though his mind screamed to keep searching, to not give in. He had pushed himself far beyond his limits over the past seven days, running on fumes and adrenaline, but now his muscles ached with every movement and his head throbbed with a dull, relentless pressure. With no other choice, he finally surrendered, ordering takeout and allowing himself, for the first time in a week, to simply exist without tearing something apart.

He sank into the couch, limbs heavy, food in hand, while the television played quietly in the background, its soft glow flickering across the darkened room. As he chewed absentmindedly, his eyes fell to his journal lying nearby. He picked it up, flipping through the pages until he landed on one he’d read at least a dozen times. His handwriting stared back at him, scribbled thoughts, observations, half-memories, feelings that had once seemed so certain.

He read them again, slower this time, trying to burn the words into his brain. Trying to force something to click. A face, a voice, a moment. Anything. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he focused, the memories refused to surface. There was only a heavy, aching blankness. And the haunting feeling that something, or someone, was still missing.

He had sat for 2 days on the couch. No shower. No answering Sarah’s check ins on him. He sat, lost in his mind that he felt like he didn’t even have anymore.He sat there during the day and slept there at night. Time was a blur for him. His mind was a blur. However, the couple days of rest did good on his body and he had a bit more motivation to get out of the house.

On day 3 he forced himself up. He showered and shaved the stubble that had grown in. He put on his finest polo and a spritz of cologne. He texted Topper to meet him at the Country Club for drinks. Rafe figured that maybe if he got out into familiar surroundings, a name, a voice, or a face would trigger something in his memory. Make him remember what he lost.

Right before he left he went over to the safe in his office to grab one of his fathers old watches. Ironically, it’s the same one he planned to steal and give to Barry as payment. Something he’d never forget but he wished he could erase from his past, but of course he could remember that. All the times he had been a let down were there.

As he reached into the safe his eyes flickered to a small velvet box and another handwritten note.

“You wanted this back but I couldn’t risk leaving it just anywhere when you weren’t home. It means the world to you, I needed to make sure it stayed safe. I’m sorry, I’ll miss you.”

Rafe opened the velvet box, a ring, his mothers ring. He slammed his hand against the wall in frustration. Another cryptic note. Why was it so hard to just leave a fucking name? Why couldn’t you just sign it? Let me have one thing of you. But of course you wouldn’t sign it. He was meant to know who this was from. You had no clue what happened to him?

He blew out a ragged breath, trying to stabilize himself as he began to feel dizzy. This is ruining him but he needed to get out and be normal for once. He snatched out the watch and slammed the safe shut. He texts Topper he’s on his way and he raced out the house.

It was a usual catch up between him and Topper at first. It really distracted him from the chaos brewing inside his head. Topper, despite being a pain in the ass 98% of the time, was really good at helping Rafe just feel normal. A moment of silence between the two as they drank had Rafe looking around, examining every person's face trying to find something distinguishable. Something that could make him remember. He was pulled out of his thoughts when a shrill voice came up behind him.

“No puppy dog following you around today?” Ruthie appeared placing a hand on his shoulder.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe’s face twisted. Not even at the words, this girl was just so unbearable.Topper is the biggest idiot for dating her. Man is just too desperate for love.

“That little Pogue girl you had around for a while, she didn’t want to hang out tonight? Ruthie smirked and curled her lips around the straw of her drink giving him a glare.

“My girl?” Rafe tried to keep himself calm. Not give too much away. He didn’t want to go over what happened with him when in Morocco with her and Topper. Especially not Ruthie.

“Yes, your girl. Jeez it’s like you fell and bumped your head. What’s gotten into you?” Ruthie was a very blunt person. Not in a good way, a way that would help a person out. And yes, she didn’t know what happened to me, but god, Rafe just wished she’d just shut the fuck up.

“Yeah, you good man?” Topper added with a hint of actual concern.

Rafe wanted to keep his cool and play it off as nothing. He didn’t want to make it seem he was fishing for information. But he wanted to see if he could get anything out of them. “You probably don’t even know her name, what do you give a fuck where she is?”

Ruthie shrugged at his accusation, “Never bothered to ask, or even care to remember if I did. I was just curious, this last year or show she’s always just lurking in your shadow.”

Rafe took a big swig of his drink, downing it. He thought this would be helpful, he thought something would trigger his memory of you. He knew you were out there, he just had to find you. Why were you sorry? Why did you leave? What the hell did you do that any of what you said would matter this much?

Topper cut through Rafe’s thoughts yet again, “Isn’t that her over there? She clocking out of work? You still making your girl work Mr. CEO?” He chuckled like he didn’t know the storm brewing in Rafe’s mind. Like what he said was actually funny.

Rafe turned from the table, scanning the room until his eyes locked on yours. Yours widened as they met. You stood frozen for a moment. Rafe’s mind was a whirlwind. Like he had been slapped across the face the way memories of you came back. Your eyes were all it took.

It was you.

The way your laugh sounded, the way you looked up at him with those big doe eyes because of how he towered over, how soft your skin was, the sweet smell of your perfume. Everything about you came back to him. Everything except why you’re gone. Lost in his thoughts, you made your way out of the country club quickly, he had no time to react and no time to make his way to you.

He needed to see you again. And now he knows where to find you.

tags and some moots <3

@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell l @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @letstryagaintomorrow @wtfdudesblog @maybejj @maybankslover @cameronsprincess @littlelamy @whytheylosttheirminds @frankoceanluvr11 @nemesyaaa @writingroom21

[paxaz535]

Just for Now

chapter 2

synopsis : when a group of students go on a school field trip are suddenly forced into a deadly real-life game of Mafia at a retreat center. They receive a message that tells them the game has started, and the only way of survival is by eliminating classmates and identifying the Mafias.

———

note : this is surprisingly going well

———

The group chat was already blowing up.

Sarah: yo wtf is this

Kk: this ain’t funny

Azzi: is this like a prank?

Paige: Q, you did this, right?

No response.

Q hadn’t said a word.

You scrolled past the chaos, fingers trembling.

Rose: maybe we should just… play along

Stormi: y’all seriously voting on people??

Aaliyah: it’s not real. obviously.

But even she didn’t sound convinced.

Ines: Let’s all meet in the lounge.

Ines: It’s better to talk about this in person.

You exchanged a glance with Stormi, both of you silently agreeing. The tension was too thick to ignore.

On the way to the lounge, you passed the supervisor’s desk. Still empty.

“He didn’t come back yet?” you asked, voice low.

Stormi shrugged. “Said he’d be back a few hours ago. I guess he never came.”

That was odd. Mr. Duncil was usually on top of things. Nothing could’ve happened to him… right?

You spotted Isaac coming down the stairs — the kid from your fifth-hour class. “Hey, have you seen Mr. Duncil?”

He shook his head, adjusting the glasses sliding down his nose. “Not since earlier. I tried calling him, but no luck.”

You frowned. This was starting to feel less like a prank and more like something else entirely.

Footsteps echoed from the west wing. You turned to see Paige, Azzi, Nika, and Aaliyah approaching. Azzi bounced a ball in her hand, calm as ever.

“We’re trying to figure out where Mr. Duncil went,” you explained. “He said he’d be back, but… he’s just gone.”

Stormi checked the time and spoke up. “We should head to the lounge. It’s getting late.”

Everyone nodded. Together, you made your way there.

⸻

The room buzzed with tension.

“So what’s actually going on?” Ice asked, glancing around.

Sammy scoffed, arms crossed. “They explained the rules, didn’t they?”

Ice narrowed her eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Sammy didn’t answer — just went back to picking at her nails.

You turned to Q. “This is your thing, right? You set this up?”

Q stood up abruptly, eyes wide. “Why is everyone assuming I know what’s going on? I’m just as confused as you!”

Aubrey shook her head. “We know you’re into this techy game stuff. That’s why we asked.”

Q crossed her arms and sat down beside Allie. “I wouldn’t even have time to do something like this.”

Then, the clock struck 11:30.

A cold voice crackled through the intercom:

“You now have 30 minutes to vote. If votes are not submitted, all of you will be executed.”

Your heart plummeted.

“What the hell—?” Isaac stood, holding up his phone. “Okay, so obviously we gotta vote. Who are we voting for?”

“Qadance. She’s the most suspicious,” Sammy said immediately.

“That’s bullshit!” Q snapped, voice shaking. “What have I even done to make you think I’m mafia?”

Silence.

She looked around the room — no one spoke up.

“Exactly!”

Azzi stepped forward. “I just think it’s better this way, Q. I’m sorry.” She raised her phone and tapped the screen.

Azzi has voted for Qadance.

Paige has voted for Qadance.

Rose has voted for Qadance.

Q’s expression twisted. Hurt. Anger. Betrayal. Her hands balled into fists.

She hadn’t done anything. She didn’t deserve this.

“Don’t take it personal,” Ayanna said as she cast her vote. “You’ll probably just be sat out for the rest of the game.”

Q turned to her, eyes wide. “I’m sorry—does execution sound like a time out to you? I’m gonna die!”

“Qadance, chill. Don’t think of it like that,” the blonde basketball player said gently.

Q looked at her, then shook her head. “I don’t trust this.”

There were still 10 minutes left in the voting round. Fifteen people had voted for Q.

Across the room, a freshman girl sat trembling with her friends. You noticed her hesitation and stood, crouching beside her.

“I don’t wanna do this,” she whispered.

“I know, sweetie,” you said softly. “But you have to—or you’ll be executed too.”

She exhaled shakily, then reached forward and pressed the button.

“I’m sorry.”

Qadance’s entire demeanor shifted. She stopped talking. Her expression went blank—like she was already preparing herself for the end.

⸻

5 Minutes Remaining

⸻

The intercom crackled.

“With the most votes, Qadance will be executed.”

All eyes turned to her.

Q sat silently, staring at the floor, her fingers twitching and fumbling with each other. You couldn’t stop watching her—trying to anticipate what would happen.

Then her hands snapped to her head.

She groaned.

Then screamed.

The sound ripped through the room, sharp and panicked. Everyone jumped.

“Q?”

No answer. She was writhing, hands digging into her scalp.

You stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder—she shoved it off instantly.

“Q, answer me!”

She kept screaming.

People stood, backing away. “What the fuck is wrong with her?” Nika shouted.

“Qadance!”

Suddenly, she froze.

She lifted her head slowly. Her eyes—completely white. No pupil. No iris. Nothing.

She turned toward the door and bolted.

Everyone rushed after her. You were right behind her.

“Q!”

She spotted a painting on the wall and slammed her head into it.

“Qadance, stop!” you screamed.

She stumbled to the opposite wall and did it again.

Then she saw it—the massive window at the end of the hallway.

She ran.

People reached for her, trying to stop her, but she was too fast.

In one motion, she launched herself through the glass.

“QADANCE!”

You sprinted after her, but you were too late.

Shards of glass sparkled in the air.

Then—

The intercom buzzed again.

A soft tone echoed through the hall… and everyone dropped into a deep, heavy sleep.

The hallway, once filled with screams and chaos, now sat still. Bodies lay scattered—students slumped on the cold tile floor, limbs twisted in the awkward positions of sudden sleep. A cold breeze drifted through the open frame.

The intercom came on again.

This time, only four people woke up.

Paige was the first. She shot upright, eyes scanning the room—everyone else was still out cold. Then it hit her:

After voting ends at midnight, all participants except for Mafia will go to sleep.

She turned her head. Azzi was stirring beside her.

Relief flooded her chest.

She let out a soft breath—she didn’t want to imagine what she’d have done if Azzi hadn’t woken up too.

When the brunette’s eyes found Paige, she rushed over and wrapped her in a hug.

“Holy shit.”

They pulled apart as two more voices joined them—Aaliyah and Nika were also awake, standing nearby.

A silence fell between them. Heavy. Awkward.

Then Aaliyah broke it.

“So… we all lied to each other?”

Paige laughed dryly, running a hand down her face.

“I mean… we kinda had to.”

Aaliyah shrugged, casually glancing around at the bodies still lying on the floor.

Then she spotted you. Her lips curled into a smirk.

“Sucks Rose isn’t Mafia, doesn’t it?”

Paige and Azzi both turned toward her and flipped her off in perfect sync.

Even now, even with everything falling apart, Aaliyah still found a way to be that girl.

The lights dimmed slightly—enough to make the shadows stretch.

Then, the intercom buzzed again.

“Mafia Members: You have 4 hours to make your decision. Eliminate one player before the others wake up.”

Silence.

No robotic voice. No static. Just those chilling words—and then nothing.

Azzi’s jaw clenched. Paige immediately looked at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Azzi muttered.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m supposed to be okay with this.”

Aaliyah, as always, broke the tension with a low chuckle.

“They’re asleep. They won’t feel a thing, right?”

Paige glared at her.

“Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not. I’m being practical. We either do it or we’re next.”

Nika crossed her arms, her voice lower than usual.

“We just need to figure out who to eliminate.”

The air shifted.

Everyone looked at each other.

No one spoke.

The screen on the wall flickered on.

A countdown started.

3:59:59

Azzi turned away from the group, her breathing quick and sharp.

“I’m not doing it. I don’t care what they say. I’m not—”

“Then someone else will,” Aaliyah cut in.

Paige stepped between them.

“We’re not going to tear each other apart over this. We pick someone. We agree. And we never talk about it again.”

No one responded.

Then Nika broke the silence. Her voice flat. Detached.

“What about the freshman?”

The group turned to look at the small girl, still curled up on the floor. Quiet. Breathing softly. She hadn’t even been awake for an hour before she cast her vote against Qadance.

Paige swallowed hard.

“She’s just a kid.”

“We’re all just kids.” Aaliyah’s voice was razor-sharp now. “We need to survive.”

“Yeah, but that girl just got into high school! She’s fresh out of eighth grade. I’m sorry, but I don’t agree.”

Azzi looked at her girlfriend, admiring her for her kindness.

“She’s right, Lili. We need to do someone else.”

Aaliyah looked over at the brunette and groaned, shaking her head.

“Fine then. Who?”

Nika stayed quiet, scanning the room until her eyes landed on Sammy.

“Alright. Let’s do Sammy.”

The three looked at her.

“Why Sammy?” Aaliyah asked.

Nika scoffed.

“Because she’s a bitch. A huge one at that, especially to Ice.”

Azzi looked at the girl in question. Nika was right—in a way.

But then she paused. Thought.

“Don’t you think that’ll just make Ice look suspicious?”

Nika turned to her. She had a point. The brunette just raised her eyebrows, arms still crossed as she leaned against the wall.

“Maybe that’s what we need to do.”

Everyone turned toward Paige. They didn’t expect those words to come out of her mouth—of all people.

“Paige, what the hell?”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Look, I love Ice. I do. But we need to do what it takes to keep everyone else off our backs. If they think it’s Ice, they won’t pay us any mind.”

Nika nodded slowly.

“I’m not opposed… but you sure you wanna throw Ice under the bus like that? I mean, come on—it’s Ice we’re talking about.”

Paige looked at her twin. Her eyebrows were furrowed, but she nodded.

“Like I said before, we do whatever it takes.”

Aaliyah stood there, still flabbergasted. She didn’t want to kill Ice. But she had to think. “We were better off killing the fucking freshman,” she muttered under her breath.

“Alright… who’s gonna do it?” Azzi asked.

“I’ll do it,” Paige offered.

The room fell silent. Even the wind outside seemed to pause.

Aaliyah’s eyes locked onto Paige’s. “You sure?”

Paige gave a short nod, jaw clenched.

Azzi swallowed hard, guilt starting to creep into her chest. “Just… don’t make her suffer.”

“I won’t,” Paige said quietly, almost like a promise to herself.

Nika crossed her arms again, eyes narrowing. “How are you gonna do it?”

The blonde looked to the floor.

“There’s many different ways, but I’m thinking about just snapping her neck.”

Aaliyah leaned against the back wall, arms folded tight around her chest. “Jesus, this is fucked.”

“Welcome to the game,” Nika muttered.

The intercom went off.

“Mafia, before you fall asleep, there’s something to know.”

The four of them looked at each other, confused.

“There will be a fifth Mafia joining you. You’ll see who it is tomorrow.”

-

The next day, you were the first to wake. Everyone else was just starting to stir.

What happened to Qadance immediately flooded your mind, and a wave of sickness churned in your gut. You walked over to the window, needing to see if her body was still there.

It was.

Then the intercom crackled to life.

“Qadance was a Citizen.”

You covered your mouth as bile rose in your throat. The guilt hit like a punch to the stomach.

You all killed her. You all killed her because you thought she was behind everything. Paranoia had taken over. Now the weight of it was unbearable.

“Come on, hun. Let’s go.”

Stormi wrapped an arm around you and began guiding you back to your room. But another announcement cut through the air, freezing you in place.

“During the night, the Mafia decided to use their power and execute Sammy. Sammy was a Citizen.”

You closed your eyes. Tears welled up, threatening to spill.

“No…”

Jaida’s voice cracked. She rushed to Sammy’s lifeless body and dropped to her knees beside her.

“Who the fuck did this?! Why?!” she screamed, holding onto her friend like she could will her back to life.

Azzi, Paige, Nika, and Aaliyah exchanged uneasy glances, then quickly looked away, watching the scene unfold from a distance like everyone else.

“This game is so fucked up,” Jaida sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“I know, J. Come on. We can’t stay here. It isn’t safe.”

Isaac reached down and gently helped her to her feet. Jaida kept her eyes on Sammy’s body for a moment longer before finally turning away.

You glanced around at everyone. Some cried. Some stood frozen. Others… looked too calm.

You didn’t know who to trust anymore.

But at least you had one advantage—they didn’t know you were the Police. Anyone who acted suspicious, you could investigate.

So far… no one was on your radar.

Yet.

-

You were walking around the center, just scoping things out. Overthinking, as usual. There was so much going on in your head—being the police gave you power, real power, and you weren’t even sure you’d fully realized it yet.

You had been so excited for this field trip. Now? It had all gone to shit. Where were the supervisors? It was like they’d vanished into thin air. The thought made your brain spin with stress.

On the second floor, you spotted two figures approaching.

Paige and Azzi.

You smiled and walked toward them. “Hi, guys.”

They smiled back. Up close, they looked even better. You were starstruck.

“Hey, Rose,” Azzi said, then paused, eyes widening. “I can call you that�� right?”

Your face got hot.

You can call me anything.

Wait—did you just say that out loud?

“I mean—yeah,” you stammered. “Yes, you can call me Rose. Both of you can.”

They were dressed differently than when you’d arrived. Paige wore joggers that sat low on her hips, her boxers peeking out playfully. She had on a hoodie, her hair tied back in that signature bun of hers.

Azzi wore shorts and a tank top—no bra. You could clearly see her nipples through the fabric. Your stomach twisted with heat.

They both looked amazing. And you silently cursed yourself for thinking like that… in a situation like this.

That was dangerous—too dangerous. Not just the game, but the way they looked at you. The way they smiled like they didn’t have a care in the world.

You shifted on your feet, clearing your throat, trying to focus.

“So, um…” you start, trying to keep your voice steady, “have you guys seen anyone else? Or, like… anything weird?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, squinting. “Weird how? Like bodies-dropped weird or weird like, ‘someone took my chips’ weird?”

You laughed, mostly from nerves. “Definitely more of the first one.”

Azzi crossed her arms, and her tank top lifted a bit, revealing a sliver more skin than you were ready to handle. “Nah, nothing weird. Just a weird vibe. Like, something’s coming. You feel that too, don’t you?”

God, yeah, you did. But you didn’t want to say that out loud. Not when your brain was already spiraling.

They were still watching you—curious, warm, unbothered. Maybe a little too unbothered. And suddenly you remembered: You hadn’t checked either of their roles yet. You hadn’t check anyone’s roles yet for that matter.

Your fingers twitched with the need to look. You could. Right now.

But something in your gut told you… once you do, everything changes.

You decided against it, wanting to talk to these two a little more.

“Uh… you guys wanna head down to the cafeteria? I heard they’ve got good food.”

Paige and Azzi lit up at the mention of food—no surprise, considering they were both athletes.

The three of you headed downstairs, smiles on your faces as you made your way through the center.

You didn’t even make it to the cafeteria before the intercom crackled to life.

Jessica was executed. Jessica was a Citizen.

The three of you froze.

A killing during the day?

Then came the scream.

Sharp. Piercing.

A sound that didn’t belong in daylight.

You turned toward the direction of the scream, heart pounding. Paige’s eyes were wide, and Azzi had already started moving.

“Come on,” she said, her voice tight. “That came from the east wing.”

The three of you ran, footsteps echoing through the hallways that suddenly felt too empty, too quiet between each scream.

You rounded the corner—and nearly crashed into a group of students clustered near one of the rec room doors. Some were crying. Others were trying to look inside through the small window.

“Move,” Azzi said, pushing through. She froze once she looked in.

You stepped up beside her.

Inside, on the floor, was someone you hadn’t seen since last night’s game.

Blood pooled around their head. Eyes wide open. Unmoving.

No intercom this time.

“What the hell is happening?” Paige whispered.

Someone behind you muttered, “Two people in one day? This isn’t part of the game anymore.”

You looked around at the faces in the hallway—some pale, some in shock, a few too calm.

Your role—the Police Officer—suddenly felt a whole lot heavier.

“Okay, we’ve gotta get the fuck outta here!” Aubrey shouted, eyes fixed on the body.

“You think?” Jaida snapped, already turning. “Come on—let’s try outside!”

She bolted from the room. The rest of you followed, footsteps pounding the floor in a panicked stampede.

Halfway down the hall, a sudden thought hit you like a punch.

“Where’s Stormi!?” you yelled, spinning around.

“I’m right here, Rose!”

You whipped your head to the side—Stormi was beside you now, slightly out of breath. Relief flooded your chest.

When you finally pushed through the exit doors and spilled into the sunlight, a strange quiet settled over the group. Then you all saw it.

A solid white line—thick, glowing faintly—stretched around the entire perimeter of the building, encircling it like a barrier.

“What the—” Ashlynn started, stepping forward.

The moment her toe crossed the line, a loud buzzing sound erupted—like a short circuit—and she staggered back with a yelp.

“I didn’t even touch anything!” she shouted, stumbling into Paige.

Stormi moved beside you, her voice low. “It’s a boundary. We’re trapped.”

You looked around at everyone, faces full of panic, confusion, and something worse—realization.

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

And someone was making sure no one could leave.

“Leaving the playing area will result in execution. Please stay inside the boundaries.”

The voice was flat. Final.

David—yeah, you were pretty sure that was his name—shook his head. He’d seen too much already. Too much blood, too much fear.

“Man, fuck this! I’m out,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Before anyone could stop him, he bolted—straight across the white line.

“DAVID!”

A girl screamed behind him, reaching out, but it was too late.

The intercom clicked on again, colder than before.

“You’ve stepped outside of playing boundaries. Execution will now be exhibited.”

David froze mid-step.

Then—just like Qadance the night before—his body began to tremble. Jerk violently.

His eyes rolled back, turning a milky white.

He spotted a rock near the edge of the line. Picked it up with trembling hands.

And before anyone could move—

Crack.

Crack.

He slammed it into his own skull.

The screams came instantly.

The girl who’d called his name collapsed, sobbing, as others turned away, unable to watch.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

This wasn’t just a scare tactic.

The game was real.

And it was cruel.

“I wanna go home!”

The freshman sobbed, her voice cracking. Her eyes were wide, too innocent—too young for this.

Why was this happening?

Before you could process it, more people began to move. Panic had taken over.

Someone screamed, then another. And just like that—

They ran.

One after another, tearing across the boundary line like it wasn’t glowing with death.

Like they hadn’t just watched David die.

“Stop!” you yelled.

“Don’t go out there!” Stormi’s voice cracked with desperation.

Others joined in—faces you didn’t even know—but it didn’t matter.

They didn’t care.

Not one bit.

One girl made it three steps past the line before collapsing.

A guy hit the ground, convulsing.

Another bashed his head against the fence post until it split.

Screams.

So many screams.

You clutched Stormi’s arm, breathing hard. The sound of death was starting to feel… normal.

And that terrified you more than anything else.

-

“Is anyone’s phone working?” Jana asked, staring down at her screen like it might suddenly change. Her voice was small, barely cutting through the weight in the air.

People around her checked.

One by one, they shook their heads.

No signal. No bars. No Wi-Fi. Nothing.

Someone tried dialing anyway—just to try. It didn’t even ring.

Jana let out a shaky breath. “They’ve cut us off.”

You looked around. Dozens of students. Shaking. Crying. Staring into space.

And not one of them had a way to call for help.

“They planned this,” Stormi whispered. “Every part of it.”

The silence that followed was worse than the screams.

A sharp voice broke the silence.

“This is bullshit,” Dylan snapped, eyes wild as he stepped forward. “Someone here knows what’s going on.”

Heads turned.

“No one just sets up some death game without help. You really think this is all random?” He pointed at the cameras overhead. “Someone in this group is in on it.”

“Dylan, don’t—” someone tried to calm him, but he wasn’t hearing it.

“No. I’m not dying in this place because we trusted the wrong person. Think about it—what if one of you signed up for this? Or got offered something to play along?” His eyes darted around the group like he was ready to pounce.

People started murmuring. Shifting uncomfortably.

Stormi stepped in front of you slightly—protective. “No one here wants this. We’re all stuck.”

“You don’t know that,” Dylan shot back. “What if this ‘game’ has roles we don’t know about? What if someone’s job is to keep us scared and confused?”

Then he looked straight at you.

“You’ve been quiet, Rose. Why is that?”

Your heart dropped.

Everyone was watching.

And suddenly, being the Police Officer didn’t feel like a strength anymore—it felt like a target.

You seen from the corner of your eye, Paige and Azzi stand up. Like they were ready to defend you. Fight for you.

But you had it.

You took a step forward, eyes locked on Dylan.

“Quiet?” you repeated, your voice steady. “I’ve been quiet because I’m thinking—something you clearly haven’t been doing.”

A few heads turned. Dylan’s smug look faltered.

“You wanna start pointing fingers? Go ahead. But screaming and throwing blame around isn’t gonna save anyone. In fact—” you took another step closer—

“—that’s exactly what they want us to do. Tear each other apart before they even lift a finger.”

Dylan opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“You’re not a hero. You’re scared like the rest of us. But don’t mistake panic for leadership. We don’t need a loud mouth—we need a plan.”

Silence.

Even Stormi blinked like she hadn’t expected that.

Dylan looked like he wanted to say something else—but he didn’t.

He stepped back.

And for the first time since this all started… people were looking at you for what to do next.

Dylan scoffed, but didn’t say another word. He looked away, jaw clenched.

The tension in the air hung for a moment longer, then slowly started to settle. People backed off, eyes shifting elsewhere, conversations picking up in quiet murmurs again.

Stormi leaned in close to you, her voice low. “Okay, damn. You didn’t have to eat him like that.”

You gave a small shrug. “He asked for it.”

You weren’t trying to lead. You didn’t want that weight. You just weren’t going to let someone drag your name through the mud when people were already dying.

Let them look to someone else for plans. You were focused on staying alive—and figuring out who was lying.

And with your role…

You were already seeing more than most.

You drifted toward the edge of the group, away from the noise and the stares. Stormi followed, staying close but not saying much. She knew your silence wasn’t retreat—it was focus.

The ability had activated before. Quiet. Subtle. No one could see it happen but you.

And now—it buzzed in your head again. A soft pulse, like something calling your attention.

Your eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on someone near the back. Quiet. Watching. Not saying much.

Jaida.

Then, right beside her name in your mind—like a label only you could see:

Occupation: Mafia.

Your stomach dropped.

No way.

She was the one who ran first, told people to head outside. Had she known what would happen? Was it a setup?

You didn’t say anything. Not yet.

But your hand found Stormi’s sleeve and gave it a slight tug.

She looked at you, brows raised.

You just whispered, low enough that only she could hear:

“I saw something.”

taglist: @iowahawkeyes22 @evry1luvzzae

[casualprincessbarbie]

Okay Maybe I Was Looking - Julian (Trailer Park Boys) X Fem!Reader

Summary: Julian’s your gym crush and he likes you. You take Sarah to the gym and Ricky fucks things up, so Julian’s trying to sort everyone out.

Warnings: Swearing. Lowkey, Julians creepin’ on you. Just looking a lot lol.

Word Count: 2289

***

Working out was an amazing outlet to release negative energy. This energy was usually rage from people at work or elsewhere pissing you off. Regardless, the gym always eases your mind. Lately, there’s been a feeling as if someone’s watching. The people there were usually from the park, but occasionally there were severely cheap gym rats. Ah gym creeps, not many of them, but there’s usually a couple. Whatever, as long as they didn’t make a physical move you thought. If someone was going to be staring though, you had a preference.

There was one man you wanted to see during your gym trips. Julian, the owner of the place. He was always lingering around the building. Sometimes he was lifting weights himself, telling employees what to do, or sipping on his drink on a break, leaning on a wall outside. Before the gym, you had heard of him, since he’s always firing his handgun and fighting with Mr. Lahey. With you being a regular now, you knew each other’s names. He’d always ask how your workout was on your way out. It was a nice routine of being acquainted, but it would be nicer to get a bit closer.

You never knew, but when Julian was at the main desk checking people in and you would walk out, his eyes were trained directly on your ass. As soon as the door was closed and he noticed the camera crew giving him a look he’d give them the death stare demanding “Would ya stop filming me!” As far as you could tell though, he was just the friendly gym owner. Of course with the sexy raven black hair, tall stature and solid chest.

One day you showed up to the gym with Sarah. She didn’t usually go with you, but she said she was trying to get more exercise these days and you seemed like the perfect person to help her out. Sarah was one of your best friends in the park. The woman met you when she got back from jail and didn’t have a place to stay, so you let her crash for a few days before she patched things up with Lucy. She said she’d introduce you to her soon.

“Oh yeah by the way Sarah, the owner of this place… he’s so cute but I never seem to be able to have a solid conversation with him. It’s good because he makes sure to chit chat with me everyday, but you know, I wanna be able to talk to him outside of here, if that makes sense,” you told her getting out of the car. In that moment Sarah from surprise spray spit out her sip of water she was in the middle of. “Y/N, do you mean Julian?! Fuck I grew up around that guy. Him, Ricky and Bubbles,” Sarah started explaining that she actually knew your gym crush. In fact Lucy was in a relationship with Ricky and they had a daughter, Trinity. You asked what Sarah knew about Julian and she said, “Well, he’s a leader, he tries to take care of everyone in the park. People usually don’t describe him as ‘cute,’ but I can see it. Warning you right now though, I know he’s had a few run-ins with the law over the years.” The last part was a bit worrisome, but eh it was a trailer park, most of the people there were a little questionable.

Once you guys got inside the gym you went to use the lat-pulldown machine. You showed Sarah how to do the movement slowly and how to grip the bar with your hands properly, before doing a set. Then it was her turn. Repeat the cycle.

All of a sudden in the middle of Sarah’s third set a man with curly ginger hair and a tacky shirt shoved her to the side saying “Fuck off Sarah, I gotta get this done before my date with Lucy!” Sarah was on the ground and started getting up with you helping her. When she got both feet steady on the ground you were ready to be angry at this jackass.

“You, yeah you asshole. Why’d you just push my friend in the middle of her set? That’s extremely rude you entitled prick,” you stood up for Sarah. Both of you had your arms crossed, glaring at Ricky. A scene was starting to form after Ricky had first shoved Sarah. Ricky was getting more and more agitated by the situation he had caused. “Sarah, and I don’t know who the hell you are, I have to get ready for my date in 30 minutes, but these muscles gotta be taken care of right now. You two are fucking up my workout-“ Ricky was stopped in the middle of his tangent by Julian coming over and slapping his hand over Ricky’s mouth. He looked beyond embarrassed, as he should at his friend’s behaviour. “Girls, I’m really sorry for what just happened, you can work out here for free for the next month. I’ll make sure Ricky leaves you alone for the rest of your workout,” he assured you. Ricky was trying to yell through Julian’s hand. You couldn’t believe Sarah’s friend was actually dating this guy.

Ricky’s Confessional: The new girl is annoying, should know her place you know. Fuck, I can shove Sarah whenever I want. She was in the way!

Julian pushed Ricky behind him, still trying to defuse the situation. Ricky was still swearing at you and Sarah so you yelled back, “If you’re so worried about your date, working out the day of isn’t going to hide the fact you’re out of shape you loser!” Probably not the most calming thing to say, but this guy deserved it. That comment got Ricky furious. How dare she downplay my muscular physique! He got free from Julian and was charging at you. Usually you would be more afraid of a man, but Ricky was the definition of sloppy.

Y/N’s Confessional: Yeah I punched him.

Once he was close enough in range to you he gave him a solid right hook. He was toppling over after the punch and then hit the ground when you kneed him in the abdomen. As soon as he hit the ground, Sarah was raving about how what you had just done was “So badass.” However, you were scared because that was probably technically assault of some sort. At least he attacked first so it should be categorized as self-defense. “Julian, my apologies for the scene, we’ll just get goin’,” you told him. With everyone staring you just wanted to go home. “Y/N, wait-,” Julian started trying to get you to stay, but you and Sarah were gone.

Ricky was fuming, ready to hit anything in his vicinity. After what happened Julian was pissed. “God Ricky, why’d you do that? Y/N just ran off because of you,” he had his hand with no drink shoving his pointer finger in Ricky’s chest. “Well if they just stepped aside when I asked them to, none of this would've happened,” Ricky pathetically tried to defend himself. His lying skills were handy with the police, but Julian could see right through him by now. Julian was fed up and tired of listening to his excuses, “You better be on your way for your date. Lucy’s probably waiting.” The ginger put his head down and shyly walked away like a defeated child. Julian also took this opportunity to tell everyone, “Go mind your business, nothing happened.”

Julian’s Confessional: Fucking Ricky, he messed up the whole thing with Y/N and I. I’m pretty sure Sarah told her Ricky’s my friend, so now it looks like I'm hanging out with dicks.

Y/N’s Confessional: For sure Ricky’s a dick. I don’t know, I’ll probably talk about it with Julian later. I mean I hope he didn’t break the pulldown machine.

You dragged Sarah back to the car and hopped in just to escape the people and the gym for a while. “Sarah, let's go back after dinner, but I don’t want to go right now,” you explained. Sarah understood because she’d been dealing with Ricky for the majority of her life.

Since the workout fell through, you left the park for a quaint little diner nearby. Sarah was telling you some stories about being back in school with the boys. “Oh they were trouble. Actually Ricky wasn’t too bad at school because he dropped out when Julian stopped helping him with every single thing. That was probably grade 9.” Very quickly you noticed the pattern that Julian was the responsible one compared to Ricky, and that Ricky took his guidance a lot of the time. After some silly moments from childhood and teen years, Sarah went on about more current events. “Ricky is really annoying a lot of the time, but I’ll admit, I do think he loves Lucy. He’s always trying stupid shit to impress her. It rarely works out the way he thinks it will though. He loves Trinity too. His daughter means a lot to him for sure,” she was revealing his redeeming qualities. After that it was hard to hate him as much. It was very difficult to believe at first, but sometimes he really is that stupid, apparently.

7 PM

You and Sarah got back to the gym ready to get focused. The pulldowns were tried again, with better form this time. Sarah had gotten the hang of the exercise a bit more and there were no big men to crash into her in the middle of it. After the pulldowns you were doing pullback rows with the machine.

Julian was looking from a distance. He was checking to make sure all the machines were running smoothly, the weights were in the right places, and on you coaching Sarah. It was getting harder for him to focus on anything but you as the workout progressed. Next, you did bent-over rows with one hand and leg on the bench. He was using the mirror to see your chest, the way the shadow between your tits was more pronounced in that position and they looked so juicy to him. That and the way your ass looked while it was leaning slightly back. What he was forgetting was that Sarah had a good full view of the mirror too while you were doing the exercise. Julian saw Sarah raising an eyebrow and her arms folded. She was so onto him. He looked down, up, then to the side, anywhere away from you so maybe you wouldn’t catch him staring.

“Hey Y/N, your gym crush is totally looking,” Sarah pointed out once you finished your bent-over rows. You glanced around the gym and saw him restocking the machine wipes dispenser. “Hah hah, very funny Sarah. Are you sure? He’s just doing work probably,” you were reasoning with her. Also yourself because it’s dangerous to get your hopes up for any guy. Your friend wished you could have seen the way Julian was looking and then looking away whenever he realized he got caught.

When you finished your workout with Sarah you decided to talk to Julian on the way out like you always do. The two of you greeted each other like usual, but this time you were giving him more from the eyes. He was standing closer up than he normally did, so he seemed a lot taller. His body was intimidating but that’s what also made it so hot. “I’m really sorry about the Ricky thing-,” “ No, don’t mention it, we all have friends who do stupid things once in a while,” you interrupted his apology. Sarah tapped you on the shoulder saying she’d meet you at the car. Julian was glad to have a bit more privacy in the conversation. “I liked how you stood up to Ricky actually. He’s my buddy but he was asking for it. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?” You were still giving him an innocent look that made it harder for him to keep his cool. “Yeah, when?” After setting up the date you were feeling brave. “Yeah I was told you were looking over at me a lot earlier, but I said you were probably busy.” Julian’s face went red as he thought about a smooth way to respond, “It probably looked like it. Okay I was looking,” real cool Julian, he thought, fucking creepy. He was mentally kicking himself but you were giggling

As soon as you got back to your car with Sarah leaning on the passenger side, you were so excited to share what just happened. First though you were curious, “Do you think he likes me?” Sarah had seen the beginning of the interaction and assessed, “He definitely thinks you’re cute, he was looking at you that way.” That made you smile, but you smiled harder as you told her, “Ah that kind of makes sense… because he just asked if we could go out this weekend!” Sarah’s eyes widened and she screamed with you for a quick second.

Sarah’s Confessional: I’m happy for Y/N but she’s definitely too good for Julian. He better treat her like a queen. Fucker.

Ricky’s Confessional: I was talking to Bubbles a few minutes ago. Yeah he told me Julian’s all hyped up for his date this weekend with Y/N. He’s such a horny bastard. That gym girl has got him hooked around her middle finger to flip at me. Whatever. Lucy was mad I was late for the date and now I can't come into the trailer. This is all Y/N’s fault. Her and Trevor and Cory somehow I bet.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

The Night Shift

Chapter 2

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite!

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! NON-CON, sexual assault, Sleep paralysis, roofed, oral.

Summary: You start a new job at the best hotel and resort in your beautiful beach town. Things start to go bad when your transferred to the night shift.

Jonathan Pine x Reader

🌺

The dreaded time has come. You’d tried to prepare, but sleeping during the day was still somewhat impossible.

From the time clock you hear the cheerful chatter from the 2nd shifters. They’ll be more happy to see you than you than the other way around.

As you near the archway to the lobby, you spot Sarah, Connie and Amber busy at work. You haven’t really gotten to know the other two yet; they always seemed a bit distant. They probably thought you’re weird, like everyone else in your life. Maybe that’s the real reason why they moved you to the graveyard shift.

Sarah spots you and waves. You’re gonna miss her. She was the only friend you’d made so far, and now you’d be back to square one.

Third shift ran on a skeleton crew you found out. One clerk, you, and one manager, Mr. Pine, who you suspected would be holed up in his office all night like the other managers. Housekeeping and security were always on the move, never in one spot for long, and worked out of a separate building, making it nearly impossible to even cross paths. The kitchen was fully staffed but always hectic and intimidating, and shutdown at midnight.

If you could have your phone, you could push through the impending loneliness, but it was strictly against policy to have them during shifts.

“Ready for your all nighter?”

The sudden voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you let out a squeak. Heads turn from the lobby to you. You quickly lower your gaze and hide, their attention doesn’t last, but it’s still embarrassing.

“Oh, sorry darling, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Mr. Pine apologizes, patting your back comfortingly.

You stiffen when his hand slips to the small of your back and lingers a bit longer than you’d like. He’s probably just being nice, you reason, but the thought doesn’t quite ease the awkwardness.

You force a small smile and he releases, as if it was what he was waiting for.

“I-It’s ok. I was just a little startled. I didn’t notice you there.” You reply, still a little frazzled.

“I’ve been told I’m a bit light-footed. I’ll do better next time and try to make myself a little less invisible." He remarks with a grin. You appreciate the light-heated attempt to comfort you. Maybe one day you'd stop acting like a startled rabbit—but probably not.

🌺

Check-ins cool down and Connie’s the first to log off. You offer a meek goodbye before quickly scurrying away to take her spot.

Connie smiles as you cross paths, and you smile back, but realize too late that her attention is on Mr. Pine and not you.

They share a laugh and converse while you quietly take over her station, brushing off the interaction. It’s not the first time its happened, being ignored was more of what you were used to.

You log into your stations computer. Despite how modern and luxurious the hotel, the clerk computers are old and clunky and only good for handling guest and nothing more.

“Hey heads up. Bachelor party checked earlier, but left a while ago. Already drunk,” Sarah informs as she approaches. “When they get back expect a lot of noise complaints. If they get out of hand let security know, it’ll finally give them something useful to do.”

“Thanks. Will do.”

Rowdy guest were nothing new to you. If they did cut up at least it would spice up your night.

“Are you OK? You don’t look so great.” She inquires making you worry how bad you must’ve looked.

“I-I'm fine, just tired. Not used to the change yet,” you answer a bit self-conscious.

“Sarah as lovely as always,” Mr. Pine charmingly chimes in and Sarah lights up.

He’s behind you again. You should expect it by now, but you don’t. He was worse than your cat—always sneaking up on you. He really did need a bell.

🌺

Amber leaves shortly after Sarah and your left alone on the front lines. The guests dwindle to a trickle, their footsteps echoing through the empty lobby. The usual chatter, the clink of luggage wheels, the constant buzz of activity—it’s all gone, replaced by a heavy silence. Even the light feels different at this hour, dimmer, as if the hotel itself is winding down.

As the minutes stretch on, your body feels heavier, the hum of the computer and the soft ticking of the clock blending into a lullaby that pulls you into a sleepy haze. You blink slowly, fighting to stay awake, but the lack of sleep presses down on you. Shifting in place, you try to stay alert, but your vision blurs as the screen fades in and out of focus.

A sharp knock jerks you awake. You straighten upright, heart pounding, blinking away the fog. Your eyes dart to where Mr.Pine stands, his knuckles still pressed against the archway.

“Pardon me darling, I hope I didn’t catch you unaware.”

“Oh no your fine,” you stammer, stifling a yawn into your hand.

“I see I’ve arrived just in time. Here I got you this. A gift.”

He wiggles the insulated cup with the hotel logo. You raise an eyebrow, “Coffee?”

“Its salted Carmel espresso blend, compliments of the kitchen,” he replies, handing it over. “I hear it's quiet the favorite amongst the guest these days.”

“Oh you didn’t have to,” you insist, but take it anyway. The warmth bleeds through your hands, spreading a comforting heat up through you.

“Nonsense. It’s the least I could do. Especially after earlier.“ he chuckles softly. “Hope you like it.”

You take a sip and hum at the sweet taste. It’s a bit too sweet but the spike of sugar and caffeine you hope will help fight off sleep.

“Thank you.”

He smiles at your response, but you can’t keep his gaze. He is handsome, too handsome. You pray for a guest, a call, or anything to interrupt this interaction, but nothing comes. You take another big sip as he stays. It feels like he wants you to say something, but you’re the worst person for conversation.

“How have you been finding your time with us so far?” Mr. Pine asks breaking the growing awkward silence.

“Its really great everyones so nice,” you begin to answer, but you find yourself fighting to stifle another yawn. “It’s… usually busier during the day.”

He chuckles softly. “Yes, quite right the night shift’s a different beast. No rush, no chaos.” He pauses, tilting his head.

You nod taking another sip, though your mind is starting to blur. His words are becoming harder to focus on. He’s talking, asking you another question, but you feel the weight of sleep creeping in. Your eyes start to close involuntarily. The coffee isn’t helping and now your struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Darling?” Mr. Pine softening voice breaches your haze and hand touches your shoulder gently.

You blink quickly, “Sorry, I-”

“Why don’t you take this. Our little secret.” Mr. Pine interjects. He hands you a card key to your surprise. “A nice thirty minute nap might do you some good. I’ll cover for you.”

You hesitate, but your body is begging for rest. This can’t be good for your probation period. You frown and fight through your resolve.

“I couldn’t—”

“It’s fine, this won’t reflect poorly on you,” he insists, gently nudging you. “3rd shift takes some time getting used to, and it’s dead here anyway. If by some miracle it gets crazy I’ll come for you.”

His tone is easygoing, but there’s a firmness to it, as if he’s not giving you a choice. You nod defeated and head toward the back to get your phone.

Maybe he was right, if you could get few a minutes of sleep you might be able to make it to morning.

🌺

Its a struggle to make it to the third floor. Your eyelids grow heavier with each step, your body sluggish as though you're wading through molasses. The door numbers blur as you shuffle down the hallway, fighting to stay awake.

Finally, you find it and you fumble with the keycard, nearly dropping it in your exhaustion. The lock clicks, and you push the door open.

A breeze greets you as you enter. The soft neutral tones of the room blur in your vision, and the wooden accents gleam under the gentle lighting. The velvet armchair in the sitting area barely registers as your eyes fixate on the bed. King-sized, it beckons with its plump pillows, and white quilted duvet that looks as inviting as a cloud.

It’s a struggle to set your alarm, the buttons blur and you're not even sure you did it right and you’re too tired to care. Your phone lands on the nightstand with a thud as exhaustion takes over. You collapse on top of the duvet, if you don’t disturb the bed, no one will even know you were here you think.

Your body feels unbearably heavy, limbs unresponsive as you try to shift. Exhaustion pressing down as your head sinks into the pillow and the world fades away. You wait in the calm serenely, but sleep doesn’t come. Its frustrating. Dreams hover just out of reach, fragmenting and fleeting.

The soft click of the lock rouses you from the haze. Your lashes flutter open, each blink heavier than the last as you try to make out the silhouette at the doorway. Light cast a shadow over the figure as it looms quietly. The door shuts with another soft click swallowing the light with it.

Your eyes roll back and you slip back into the void and float in the darkness that surrounds you.

Through the fog you feel the bed whine and dip, gently rocking your body with it. You’re so drowsy, barely aware of what’s happening. You feel your body being shifted, but can’t quite understand why.

Your pants slip away, replaced by soft cool pecks that trail up and down your thigh slowly. Your skin bristles from the touches that trespass over your expose parts.

You mumble grumpily as you feel your thighs spread open wider and wider. Weight holds them apart and the strain begins to tingle painfully.

Desperately, you will yourself to wake up, to snap out of it. You manage to twitch your toes, but nothing else. You're frozen, trapped in your own body.

You cant see it, but you hear the slick sounds of your juices being lapped up gingerly. Your body aches as the darkness dives deep sinking into you tenderly.

It’s not right, it shouldn’t feel so good, but you can’t pull yourself out of it.

Your clit vibrates as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to ignore it, but it’s there. The sensation too intoxicating to bare. Hot breath tickles your tender bud and you moan out helplessly.

The orgasm surges throughout your body, but no sound escapes—your tight throat. Your body buzzes its so electric, but fleeting. Warmth wraps around you sinkingly, weighing you down, drifting you back into the void.

🌺

[ikshitahuja]

What Should You Look For in Procurement Consultancy Services?

So, you’re thinking about hiring procurement consultancy services—cool move! Maybe your business is growing, and you need help to procure materials smarter, or you’re just tired of overpaying for supplies from procurement suppliers. Whatever the reason, picking the right consultancy can save you money and headaches. But what should you even look for? Don’t worry—I’ve got some real-world know-how from working with businesses, and I’m here to break it down for you in a way that’s easy to follow. Let’s jump in!

Experience That Matches Your Needs

First things first: you want a consultancy that’s been around the block. Procurement sourcing is all about buying goods or services for your company—like raw materials, office supplies, or even big machinery to procure equipment. A team with solid experience knows the ins and outs of this game. Look for folks who’ve worked with businesses like yours. If you run a small shop, a consultancy that’s only dealt with giant corporations might not get your vibe. Ask them: “What kind of companies have you helped?” My friend Sarah hired a consultancy for her bakery, and their experience with food procurement suppliers cut her costs by 15%. That’s the kind of win you’re after!

Expertise You Can Count On

Next up, check their skills. Procurement consultancy services aren’t just about haggling over prices—it’s about finding the best deals, negotiating contracts, and making sure suppliers deliver on time. You need a team that’s sharp at this stuff. Do they know your industry—maybe even procurement construction if that’s your field? Can they spot a shady supplier from a mile away? Look for signs they’re pros—like certifications (think CIPS, that’s a big one in procurement) or success stories on their website. I once talked to a consultant who saved a tech startup thousands by renegotiating a software deal. That’s expertise in action—make sure they’ve got it.

A Plan That Fits Your Goals

Here’s a biggie: the consultancy should listen to you. Every business has different needs—maybe you want to go green with your procurement of construction materials, or you’re all about speed for hardware procurement. A good service doesn’t just slap a one-size-fits-all plan on you. They’ll sit down, hear what you’re aiming for, and build a strategy that fits. Ask them, “How do you figure out what I need?” If they can’t explain it clearly, that’s a red flag. When my cousin’s store needed faster deliveries, his consultancy tweaked their supplier list to prioritize local options. It worked like a charm—look for that kind of custom fit.

Trustworthiness: No Funny Business

You’re handing over some big decisions here, so trust is key. A solid consultancy should be upfront about costs—no hidden fees sneaking up on you when you procure equipment. Check reviews or ask for references from past clients. Are they known for keeping promises? Also, peek at how they handle data—your business info should stay safe with them. I’ve heard horror stories of companies getting burned by shady consultants who overpromised and underdelivered. Don’t let that be you—go for a team with a rep you can bank on.

Results That Speak for Themselves

Finally, focus on what they can do for you. Great procurement consultancy services don’t just talk a big game—they show results. Ask for examples: “How much have you saved other clients?” or “Can you speed up my supply chain for procurement construction?” Look for numbers or real stories—something you can wrap your head around. When Sarah’s bakery got that 15% savings, it wasn’t luck; the consultancy tracked every penny. That’s the proof you want—results that hit your bottom line or make life easier.

Wrapping It Up

Choosing procurement consultancy services doesn’t have to feel like a shot in the dark. Look for experience that fits your world, expertise that solves problems, a plan made for you, trustworthiness you can lean on, and results that prove their worth. Take your time—chat with a few options, ask questions, and trust your gut. The right team can turn your buying process—whether it’s procurement of construction materials or office gear—into a smooth, money-saving machine. So, go find one that clicks—it’s worth it!

[maybege]

Hi, May! How are you?

I’m currently in the middle of writing a term paper and prepping for several exams but I think I’m doing pretty good so far. Especially cause I found a way to connect this term paper to the work I’ve done for one of my term papers from last semester.

I’ve had an interesting conversation with my professor where she gave me tips on how to set myself up for staying in academia,, like writing my bachelor thesis in a way that makes it viable for publishing and maybe asking my boss if he would consider making me a co-author on some of the papers based on my coding work for his project. Now I just gotta figure out how to ask my boss about it without freaking out 😂

Anyways, I hope you’re having a great day and an even better week ahead of you 🥰🧡

Hello hello, dear!

I am doing good! I finally somewhat recovered from jetlag and I am actually starting my very first full-time job next month so these past few days have been filled with organizing a lot of stuff 🥰

That conversation with your professor sounds like the best news, to be honest and I hope it works out! I don't think your professor would take the time to give you all these tips if she did not think you would have a future in academia. I know it's been a few weeks since you sent that ask so I am pressing my thumbs that your term paper worked out great as well as asking your bross about making you co-author!

I hope you're having a wonderful week so far and have some fun things planned for this weekend ❤️🥰

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Silent Treatment (Ethan x MC)

Summary: Naomi decides that if Ethan isn’t going to treat her like a valued member of the team, she’ll teach him a little lesson.

Based on chapter 1, some spoilers for chapter 2, and my own speculation, so read at your own risk.

I highkey hate this but I’m posting it anyway

~v~

Naomi is quiet. No, she is unusually quiet. Ethan has seen her get silent when it’s time to buckle down and focus on a task, or if something is weighing heavily on her, but at this point he knows her well enough to know it’s neither of those. She’s withdrawn, and he doesn’t understand why.

Her presence is hard to miss, the young resident has enough charm and charisma in her pinky finger to dazzle an entire room. And she’s never this quiet. Naomi demands to be heard at all times. With unapologetic vivacity. With her hands. Eyes sparkling when she gets an idea, or fiery when she needs to dig her toes into something and fight. Nothing about Naomi Valentine is ever subdued, so why the hell is she so silent?

She didn’t speak much during the last few team meetings. He and Harper have led all of the conversations, bouncing ideas back and forth, building off of each other’s ideas. Occasionally, Naomi would offer input, merely to agree or disagree with a theory, before going back into her shell.

It’s even bleeding into their personal life. For the better part of the past 3 months, she’s stayed with him, the two of them holed up in his apartment in the Back Bay, but now she’s opting to stay at her own place. It’s been going on a few days now, this random despondence, and Ethan isn’t a fan of it. He’d take it a step further and say it's driving him crazy. This isn’t the woman he’s known for the past two years, even at her lowest was she never this reclusive.

As he walks down the halls of Edenbrook, he spots Naomi, her personality back to what it once was. She’s with Ines at a vending machine, and Naomi wastes no time animatedly talking to the now attending about a fun date she went on with her girlfriend.

Heart hammering wildly in his chest, Ethan swallows thickly as he listens to her talk. He’s missed the sound of her voice, the affectionate way her strong accent curls around her ‘r’s’ and dramatically elongates her ‘o’s’. It becomes clear that she’s willing to talk, just not to him. Ethan doesn’t like that idea at all, but it’s the only one that makes sense. And if that’s the case, he needs to get to the bottom of things and remedy the situation.

“Naomi, can we talk please?” He asks once Ines is no longer in their presence.

He doesn’t miss the way she bristles upon hearing his voice. But Naomi nods anyway. “Sure, what’s wrong?”

“Can we talk in the office?”

The walk back to the seventh floor is marked with awkward silence as Naomi refuses to initiate conversation with him. The more time ticks on, the more anxiety settles in Ethan’s chest. What’s going on with her that she refuses to divulge?

The office is unoccupied when they arrive, as Harper has already gone home for the evening. Naomi stands by the door, opting not to settle into a seat or even move further into the room. Everything about her body language reads that she’s poised and ready to strike at any given moment. He frowns. She’s never been this defensive against him, at least when they’re not in the middle of an argument. “What’s going on?”

“Are you okay?”

The question catches Naomi off guard. She blinks slowly before shrugging in nonchalance. “I’m fine, Ethan.”

“You’re fine? Really?”

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be fine?”

“Not really, but you haven’t been acting like yourself recently.”

Because you’ve been quieter than a church mouse for the past few days. You don’t talk during meetings, you’re silent when we interact with the patients, it’s like you’ve completely tuned out.”

With the way he’s been acting, Naomi is almost shocked that he even realized what she’s been doing. Wow, so maybe the great Ethan Ramsey hasn’t lost his attention to detail.

“Oh, so you’ve actually noticed?”

“I’m a diagnostician, I notice everything,” Ethan deadpans. He can feel the sarcasm wafting off of her. “What, was this an intentional act for my attention?”

“Intentional, yes. But for your attention? Not necessarily,” Naomi answers.

His eyes narrow at her, his gaze near piercing. She’s playing some sort of childish game with him, first with not speaking and now with the vague half answers. “Okay, so walk me through your thought process. Why has the cat stolen your tongue?”

“I decided that if my input wasn’t going to be valued during team discussions, I might as well not speak at all.”

Ethan gapes at her, confused. Where did that come from? “Naomi, what on earth are you talking about? When have I ever not valued your input?”

“I’m talking about the fact that for the past two cases, I’ve stood on the sidelines while you’ve either cut me off mid-sentence to talk over me, or ignore my presence altogether. I might as well blend into the wall.”

“That’s not–”

Naomi doesn’t give him the chance to refute.  “Please spare me the attempt at arguing. Last week, Harper’s first day on the team, you literally had to circle back to me because you cut me off while I was speaking. And now, we’re working on a case, and you and Harper aren’t even taking this patient seriously! I’ve had to redirect the conversation and tell you guys to focus, because you two were too busy acting like bosom buddies, sharing anecdotes about hangovers, and stupid flamenco lessons, and dates you went on in the past, which is not only inappropriate and disrespectful to the patient’s time, it’s disrespectful to me.”

“So either you are completely oblivious, which I find hard to believe for someone as astute as you are, or you have no respect for me, not just as your colleague, but as the woman you claim to be in a relationship with,” Naomi continues. The floodgates have been opened and now that she’s started, she can’t stop herself. “And maybe it’s the latter, because I set that standard. I’ve let you go days, weeks, months without speaking to me with zero consequence, I’ve let you shut me out and slam doors in my face, make snide comments last year when we were treating Leland, I’ve let you have carte blanche over the pace of this relationship. I’ve always just been here and allowed your shitty social graces and piss poor communication skills to rule, and time and time again, you’ve gone unscathed, but now I’m just really tired of it.”

For the first time in a long, Ethan doesn’t have a clue what to say, and as always, Naomi is the woman who puts him in this position.

“Naomi, you can’t possibly think that I think so little of you.”

He can tell by the way her eyes darken that he put his entire foot in his mouth just now. The warning bells go off in his brain, and he scrambles to think of how he can correct this latest blunder.

Naomi bites down on her lip, and she’s actually shocked her mouth isn’t instantly flooded with the metallic taste of blood. She’s getting Punk’d obviously. The office is bugged, and Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out and announce his presence soon. That has to be it. Ethan has to be pranking her, because there’s no way a 38 year old man could ever be so dense, right? Surely his response to her grievances isn’t to dismiss her claims.

“You know what? You’re being obtuse, and we clearly aren’t getting anywhere, so I’m going to cut this conversation off now.”

She refuses to look like the psycho in this scenario and breathe any more life into this argument, and she’s not about to plead her case any further like she’s the one in the wrong.

Ethan’s eyes soften, and he takes a step forward, arms outstretched to touch, soothe whatever hurts he’s heaped upon her, but Naomi sidesteps, moving out of his reach.

If he wasn’t nervous at the start of this conversation, he is now. If the physical act of Naomi blatantly refusing to touch him wasn’t clear enough, the metaphorical chasm between the two of the just widened by a few yards as well. A chill races up and down the length of his spine.

“Naomi, I’m sorry,” Ethan says gently. “I…” His words taper off and he pauses, struggling for what he wants to say next. This has never been his strong point, being vulnerable.

And Naomi doesn’t offer him a lifeline. She’s not going to give him an out or assuage him of anything he’s currently feeling like she usually does. She’s laid out all of her cards, and things are in Ethan’s court at this point. Like always. 

“I’m going home,” she announces. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~v~

The sun is barely out when Naomi shows up for work in the morning. Most of the hospital is still, the last of the night shift heading out as she’s on her way in. She heads towards the residents’ lounge, wanting to put her things away before checking in on her patients and having a team meeting.

As soon as she opens her locker, she spots a gorgeous bouquet of red roses wrapped in newspaper invading the space. There’s no note attached to the bouquet, and she spared a quick glance around the room to see if anyone else is there. The lounge is empty, save for another resident in the corner, sleeping.

Naomi takes the bouquet out of her locker, careful not to smash the petals and holds it up to her nose, inhaling deeply. 

Deciding to not put more thought into where they came from, Naomi simply cradles the bouquet in the crook of one of her arms, stuffs her bag into her locker, and continues on with her morning routine.

She’s passing by the nurses’ station on the 7th floor when someone catches her attention. “Oh Dr. Valentine! You have a special delivery.”

Her steps slow down as she approaches the front desk where Sarah, one of her favorite RNs is stationed. Sarah steps aside, revealing an even larger bouquet of roses, these ones white.

“Where did these come from?” Naomi asks.

“They were delivered about half an hour ago,” Sarah replies with a wink. “No note, though. I won’t let Dr. Ramsey know that you have a secret admirer.”

And that’s when it clicks into place. Memories of her fight with Ethan come flooding back, and it becomes clear that he’s the one gifting her these flowers. Before she even realizes she’s doing it, her eyes roll. If he thinks a couple of bouquets of roses are a good enough apology, he can think again.

Naomi plucks a white rose right from the center of the bouquet and hands it to Sarah. “For you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I insist,” Naomi says. “Happy Friday, Sarah.”

“Thank you, Dr. Valentine!”

Seeing the smile on the senior nurse’s face is almost enough to cleanse Naomi of the annoyance she feels towards Ethan in this moment. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Naomi manages to scoop up this new batch of flowers – they’re in a vase, to which she adds her red ones – and finishes her trek to the office.

She isn’t expecting it to be covered in bunches of bright yellow sunflowers.

Their communal desk is covered in them, along with Ethan’s personal desk and the couch. “What on earth was he thinking?”

“I was thinking that sunflowers are your favorite flower,” Ethan answers, and Naomi jumps, startled at his voice. She whips around and sees him standing in the doorway. “And so I got up well before the sun was shining, went to the Boston Flower Exchange and bought every single one I could get my hands on.”

“And the roses?”

“White is supposed to be symbolic of new beginnings and forgiveness,” Ethan explains. “And you simply can’t go wrong with red.”

“If you think buying me flowers is going to cut it, you must not know me well,” Naomi says. Him buying her things doesn’t impress her, no matter how much she jokes about his money.

“No, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.” Ethan takes a cautious step into the room, shutting the door behind him. A sleepless night without her beside him forced Ethan to do a lot of thinking about how he wanted this conversation to go. A peace offering is always a good start. “And it got you to talk to me.”

Naomi scoffs and sets her flowers down. “Barely.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan says. “I’m an idiot, and an asshole.”

“It’s good that we can agree on something.”

Okay, it’s clear that she is not going to give him any leeway. “You were absolutely right to call me out on my behavior towards you.”

“Why did you do it?” Naomi asks.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Ethan says simply. “I got so caught up in having Harper on the team, and it’s easy to slip back into old habits without even realizing.”

“It wasn’t a simple one time thing. It was more than once that you and Harper completely forgot I was even there. And I like Harper, I don’t think I could respect her more than I already do, and I have a very healthy sense of self esteem, but even the toughest person on earth wouldn’t like being in my shoes, on the outside looking in while you and your ex reminisce on old dates and inside stories. Ethan, you couldn’t handle a modicum of the shit I have willingly put up with in order to be with you.”

His stomach knots up at the thought of an ex-boyfriend of Naomi’s coming into his personal space, sharing personal jokes with her, ignoring him, and monopolizing her time. If the thought of it had him this twisted, he can’t believe he’s been putting her through that reality.

“You were right to call me out on my bad communication skills. I am terrible at relationships. I’m not using it as an excuse, it’s just the truth. But I’ve gotten complacent, which is unacceptable.” Ethan takes another step towards Naomi, and when she doesn’t instantly recoil, he takes it as a sign to get even closer. “The last thing I ever want to do is stifle your voice, or make you feel invisible. Naomi, you are...invaluable. To this hospital, to this team, to me, and I am so sorry that there was ever a time where I made you feel like you weren’t. You are the most important person in my life, and what we have is something I’ve never had with anyone else.”

“Okay, so start acting like it,” Naomi challenges. “I’m your equal and I demand every bit of respect you have to offer. Anything less than that cannot be tolerated anymore, personally or professionally.”

Ethan nods emphatically at her words. “Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“You have my word, Naomi. I’ll never let it happen again.” He closes the gap between them and cups her face in his hand. “Just please...never give me the silent treatment again. Yell from the rooftops, argue with me, I don’t care, but I can’t take not hearing your voice.”

“You needed to be taught a lesson,” Naomi says simply.

“I learned my lesson, and I hated it,” Ethan confesses, his lips dangerously close to hers. Naomi doesn’t budge, not even an inch. She’s terribly stubborn, even at the end of a fight. “It was torture.”

“Good.” Deciding to put him out of his misery, Naomi tilts her head up and captures Ethan in a kiss. He doesn’t waste a single second returning it. His free hand wraps around the small of her back, pulling her in closer. How did he go this long without touching her?

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing, but he finally breaks apart from her long enough to bury his face in her neck, allowing her scent and soft skin to soothe any of his fraught nerves. She smells like home.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Ethan asks.

“The jury is still out on that one.”

“You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

“Are you up for the challenge?”

Ethan untangles himself from their embrace and takes a step back, so he’s able to look Naomi in the eyes. He takes her hand and presses a soft kiss into her palm. “For you? I’ll do just about anything.”

~v~

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list, or if I tagged you by accident!

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[mm2305]

All That Matters

Characters/pairings :  Ethan Ramsey & Olivia Valentine

Words/Genre :   2.8 K / Angst , Romance

Warnings : mentions of death,injuries

Summary : Olivia gets seriously injured. How does Ethan react?

A/N : Hello again! This fic was written per @groovypalacehorselover​ ‘s request. This is the first time I’m attempting to write angst , so I hope this comes out good enough. A big THANK YOU to @romewritingshop​ for her help in editing this. Moodboard inspired by @potionsprefect 's ones.

Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

My Masterlist

Enjoy!

------------------------------

Ethan was frantically rushing through the hospital corridors. Dread and anxiety flooded his mind that he could barely breathe. There was no way he would allow it to stall him. Pushing himself to go as fast as he could to get to the farthest wing of the hospital, he slammed the double doors ahead open.A group of interns were nattering amongst themselves,oblivious to the frantic attending approaching them. A thundering voice broke them out of their trance. 

"OUT OF MY WAY!", he boomed at them, as he was approaching closer. 

The interns, startled by him, broke apart allowing him to pass through them. What made them wonder though, was the clear, unadulterated emotion in his eyes. He looked as though his world was slowly crumbling around him. And they weren't wrong. 

2 Hours Earlier

Olivia was finishing up her rounds for the day. In a few hours she’d be home, snuggled with her favorite throw blanket, watching a movie on Netflix while Ethan would complain incessantly  about her taste in movies. She had to visit her last patient, a sweet seven year old boy named Nathan. 

His diagnosis was a difficult case to solve and this made young Nathan restless. His mom came to stay with him in the evening  but she had to go to work early in the morning. The poor boy was often bored out of his mind, taking adventurous strolls through the hospital, without telling anyone. There were several instances  that she and a few nurses had to track him down, but still Nathan continued doing that. She couldn’t really blame the poor kid. Today was just one of those days. 

Olivia walked to the nurses' desk, to ask about Nathan. 

"Hello Sarah, did you happen to see Nathan? I think he snuck  out of his room again." 

"Dr Valentine! No, I haven't. Maybe you should ask Mary. She might have an idea where Nathan is.", The nurse replied with a soft smile. 

"Okay, thank you!"

She left the reception in search of Mary. Before long, she found her in one of the halls. 

"Hi Mary, I was wondering if you've seen Nathan?", She inquired politely. 

"Dr Valentine! I was just looking for you. I think I saw the kid heading towards the halls leading to the new wing." 

"The new wing? Isn't that under construction?", Olivia asked, an audible tremor in her voice. 

"Yes?" 

"Oh God! Come on! We need to find him now!", she said, a feeling of worry and dread filling her. The new wing Bloom designed was essentially a plan to enlarge the facilities available for research. From what she heard, it wasn't safe to roam around the place without any safety gear. It was too dangerous to go there, especially for a young boy like Nathan, but she won’t let him fall to harm. 

After a few minutes of darting around and asking everyone they encountered, Mary and Olivia got the same response. They saw a kid among these halls at some point. By the time they reached the site, Olivia and Mary began calling for him. 

"Nathan? Are you here?" 

"Nathan? Nathan come here, it's me, Dr Olivia" 

No answer. Either he wasn't here or he just couldn't hear them clearly. The two women began to slow down their pacing steps as they carefully tread through the congested building site, all while calling for the young boy. 

"Dr Oliv?", They heard a small shaky voice calling. 

Olivia knew it was him and rushed towards the direction of the voice. Mary, hot on her heels, noticed him first. 

"He's there!", She exclaimed, running to his side and checking over him for any injuries. 

Olivia began walking towards them, relieved that Nathan was okay,when she heard a cracking noise. She quickly realized that the wall, they were close to, was about to collapse! With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she rushed towards them and pushed them away from the wall. She smiled softly at them before she heard a bigger *crack* and everything went black. 

-----------------------------------

MEANWHILE

Ethan was sitting at his computer, in his office, looking through files and updating the information onto his computer. Truth be told though, he was too distracted by a certain resident to concentrate on his current task. 

Him and Olivia have been together for a little more than three months and he was happier than he had been in a long time. She really had the power to turn the worst of days better with just a smile. 

She started coming to his house after work, in fact it’s almost like she had permanent residence in his heart and place. She spent most of the time there with him, just being together. Cooking, watching tv, playing ridiculous board games she always won. It was all very domestic and Ethan always felt his heart swell with love for her, at how at ease she felt being with him, in the place he now considered a home. 

Glancing at the clock, he realised their shifts would end soon but he was too impatient. With a soft sigh, he turned off his computer and walked out of his office ,towards the front desk. 

"Good afternoon, have you seen Dr. Valentine?", he asked a nurse he knew she frequently talked to. 

"Dr. Ramsey! Yes, she was here a little while ago, she was looking for her young patient, Nathan. He has a habit of sneaking out of his room, you see - Wait a minute please!", she paused to answer the phone. 

"Bloom Edenbrook Hospital how can I help you? Mary? What?! I’m sending the team right away!" 

The woman, Sarah, turned to Ethan with a flurry of panic coursing in her eyes. 

"Dr Ramsey, it was the nurse who was with Dr Valentine. They found the boy at the construction site! When they reached for him… a nearby wall collapsed on them!" 

"What!? Oh my… No no no… Wh-What else did she tell you? Tell me!", he demanded, his eyes glossed with panic, the usual pink hue of his face drained as he turned as white as a sheet, his breathing in short stuttered gasps. 

"Olivia ... was hit worst." Sarah whispered on the verge of tears. 

"Page Mirani, Delarosa and the best nurses this damn hospital has! Understood! I'm going there now!"

Before she had a chance to reply, he was already off in search of his Olivia. 

-----------------------

PRESENT TIME

Ethan continued running through the maze of corridors, his eyes full of unshed tears. 

"Not her, please not her! Don't take her from me! Please!", Ethan wasn't by any means a religious man, but the fear of losing the woman he loved made him pray to whoever could hear his agonized thoughts. The one person on this earth for whom he would give anything for, was again in grave danger. Memories from the last time she was at the brink of death flooded his mind, knocking the breath out of his lungs. How fragile she looked and to know he couldn't do anything to save her, other than watch her become progressively weaker and her radiant smile, the one that could lighten up a whole room, fade away. "No, don't do this right now Ethan. Focus on her. Only her.", he thought, nodding to himself while pushing the last hurdle of doors open. His eyes quickly scanned the room, trying to locate her. 

He finally saw her. 

She was lying on the floor pieces of rubble around her. She was unconscious, her eyes closed, her golden hair around her face.  As he rushed to her side, whilst avoiding the scattered materials, he saw a small patch of blood on the side of her head. 

He knelt beside her, being careful not to move her, in fear of causing more damage to her body. He took her small, still warm, hand in his and softly began to stroke her cheek and hair. 

"Darling? Olivia? It's me, Ethan. Please Olivia, can you hear me?", his voice wavered at the sight of her blood on his fingers from stroking her hair and a few tears were finally breaking through. 

Her eyes fluttered as a soft little gasp left her lips. 

"E-Ethan?", she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible. 

"Yes, Love it's me."

"I… it hurts.. I can't…", she croaked but it was too difficult for her to breathe properly, the dust hovering in the air wasn'tmaking this any easier. Ethan noticed this and pushed her head slightly back, to allow her to breathe better. 

"Shh darling I know… I'm here love, I'm not going anywhere...Please sweetheart don't give up on me… please…I can't lose you", Ethan whispered, stroking her cheek softly, trying to be strong for her. 

Olivia fell unconscious once again, her chest taking short ragged breaths. He pried his eyes away from her to look around the room. A woman was in the corner with a crying child in her arms, trying to comfort him. 

" Hi… Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked them as he approached them. 

"Nothing too bad. Might just be a sprained wrist and a couple of scratches. Nathan’s fine too, just shocked. Dr. Valentine…. she … she got the worst of it.", she replied with tears in her eyes. 

Ethan didn't have a chance to reply as the team arrived. They immediately got down to work, not even hesitating to lose a minute, paying Ethan no attention. 

"Get her on the gurney carefully! One mistake and you're fired!" Zaid commanded, with a fiery stern voice at the team of nurses. 

"Zaid, she's got a cut on the side of her head and she's bleeding. I don't see anything too serious but we should order a scan. Shortness of breath indicates one or two fractured ribs and her left ulna and radius might be broken, given the swelling.", Ines said with evident concern and fear thick in her voice. 

"Let's get some scans and see exactly what's going on", Zaid replied, trying to be as calm as possible, in this case. Olivia was his colleague,but more importantly she was his friend and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. Not on his watch. 

"I'm coming with you!", Ethan interrupted their conversation. 

"You're not in the right state of mind to help her now!" 

"Zaid’s right about this. She needs you to be calm and focused when she wakes up.", Ines told him resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Ethan had no choice but to reluctantly agree. 

--------------------------------------

Several hours later, Ethan was pacing anxiously in front of the room Olivia was checked into. The night doctors were there checking on her. As soon as they heard what happened, her friends joined Ethan in the waiting room, to hear news about her condition. Sienna when she saw her best friend in that state, immediately broke down, Aurora and Elijah trying to comfort her. Bryce, Rafael and Jackie, were mostly silent, their minds running through endless scenarios of what could happen to the most courageous woman they knew. 

She had a broken hand, three broken ribs; one of which was pressing too close to her lung; causing her difficulty in breathing smoothly. This required a minor surgery, which was conducted by Harper herself. She wouldn't let anyone else touch the woman she had come to consider a friend. Her head injury, thankfully, wasn't too bad, but there was a possibility of a mild concussion. The whole hospital was there to help Olivia in whatever way she needed. From nurses to interns to anyone she had always been kind to. 

Now, Ethan was waiting outside of her room alone, because her friends left a few minutes ago. She wouldn't wake up for a few hours and they made sure she would be completely okay before they left. Besides, they knew that Ethan wouldn't leave her side. That is, once he got to finally see her. 

Thirty agonizing minutes later, he was finally allowed to go into her room. His eyes glided across  her small form on the hospital bed. The side of her head was wrapped in white gauze, because of the injury there. Her left arm was in a cast and placed on a pillow to make her more comfortable. She was hooked to an IV, her body seeming too delicate on the hospital bed. Her face was in a serene slumber, her body was still under the influence of the drugs she was given during and after her surgery. 

Ethan took her soft hand in his, kissing her knuckles and looking tearfully at her. 

"My love… You scared me so so much… When that nurse told me you were hurt… I thought I was going to lose you. Again.", He started talking to her, even though she couldn't hear him, he was baring his heart to her. Letting the tears he was holding on to fall. 

"Finding you there, lying unconscious… was unbearable. Knowing that you may be gone forever, never being able to touch you, or see your beautiful smile, hear your awful jokes again… I’ve never believed in a higher power, but if there is a being that saved you, then I am grateful. Because, without you, none of this matters. You're my whole world Oliv. And this world means nothing to me if you’re not here darling", he finished , laying a soft kiss on her lips. 

He stayed with her for a few hours, having no intention of leaving her, but Naveen forced him to go get a coffee and something to eat. Of course, Naveen promised he would stay there with her while Ethan was away. 

On his way back to her room, he encountered Leland Bloom. "Great, just who I wanted to see", Ethan thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

"Ah Dr. Ramsey. I was just coming to find you. How is Dr. Valentine?", he asked with a facade of interest. 

"She’s in her room resting. Still unconscious though, because of the anesthesia from her surgery. Now if you'll excuse me", Ethan curtly replied, walking past Leland, anxious to return to her room. 

"I was hoping to come with you, actually. I wanted to ask you, will she make a full recovery?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, in a couple months she will probably be alright.", Ethan gritted his teeth, retraining his seething anger at how intrusive this man could be. 

"Probably? You're not certain? If her recovery takes so long, then she will be left behind in the hospital's advances. Pity… she was actually going to be one of the key assets to the progression of the hospital's success.", Leland said, not having noticed or probably caring about Ethan's expression. 

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. The way he spoke of Olivia. His Olivia. A human being, as though she was nothing but a tool to be used. He clenched his fists, blood coursing through his veins, ears ringing, face and neck flushed red with anger, trying to resist the immense urge to punch him square in his arrogant face. 

"How DARE you talk that way about a human being who was seriously hurt? She could have been fucking killed and all you have to say is that she would be an asset to the success of the hospital? What kind of person are you, really? Do you see anything beyond your own selfish, moronic advancements?", Ethan turned to him abruptly, almost roaring, all the pent up emotions escaping him in this outburst towards this man. 

Leland was stunned at his outburst, mouth gaping open for a second before he recollected himself. The two of them had become the center of attention as the nurses and doctors were forming a small circle, staring at the two men. 

"I would best advise you against speaking to me like that Dr. Ramsey. I'm the one who is in charge here and I expect you to treat me with respect. Now, I understand you are under pressure right now since your partner was hurt, so I'm willing to look past this little tantrum. See you soon, Dr Ramsey." he replied, walking away from Ethan, who was stalking his way down the corridor to Olivia’s room, unbothered by Bloom’s words. 

The only person in this world whose words mattered, laid in a hospital bed right now, and he vowed he would not spend any more precious time away from her. Because despite what life throws at them, all that matters is that his Rookie ... his Olivia ... his true love will be alright. They will be alright. Together.

-----------------------------

Thank you for reading !!!

[dpwromcomfest]

Welcome to Deadpool and Wolverine Rom-Com Fest 2025!

Still stuck in DPW hell? Got a boner for rom-coms? Love to create Frankensteineqsue beauties for the world to see? Strap on, this might be the fest for you. Below is a list of rom-coms that can be claimed, starting now. The goal is to make a work for your claim that may be written content or a piece of art (both, if you're nasty) in the plot of that rom-com. Any medium of art and/or writing is allowed, but for fanfiction, there is a minimum requirement of 1500 words. This fest is any pairings (or no pairings at all <3 un-rom those coms) within in the DPW movieverse. If you want to participate, enter your contact details in this form and choose 5 of the prompts you’re interested in filling, starting with the first one being your most preferred. First come, first serve! Claims will close April 12th, and then you will have until June 30th to complete your work. On June 30th, we will start posting. There will be a few check-ins/reminders and a couple other points of contact before then, just so you don't forget or need to discuss participation. If you have any questions or concerns, contact this blog or @sleepwalk-living. You can also reach me on Discord @ andersontwerks, or join our Creator's Discord! Good luck, have fun!

Claims List:

13 Going on 30

Ella Enchanted

50 First Dates (claimed)

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

The Proposal (claimed)

Just Friends

Scott Pilgrim vs the World

Easy A

Kate and Leopold (claimed)

Overboard 

Notting Hill

When Harry Met Sally 

Sleepless in Seattle 

You’ve Got Mail (claimed)

The F Word/What If

Love Actually

The Kissing Booth 

Ticket to Paradise 

Holidate 

Marry Me

Friends With Benefits 

Grease (claimed)

The Princess Bride 

Enchanted (claimed)

Midnight in Paris 

Four Weddings and a Funeral 

The Parent Trap (claimed)

Princess Diaries (claimed)

Red White and Royal Blue (claimed)

About Time 

Crazy Stupid Love 

Runaway Bride 

Forgetting Sarah Marshall 

She’s The Man 

Pretty Woman (claimed)

Ghost

27 Dresses

Just My Luck (claimed)

Definitely Maybe

Hot Frosty (claimed)

(insert your choice here)

[ladyblogger-margie]

A Simple Mistake

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: Sam Wilson skips a dinner date with Bucky, not realizing the significance of the date, much to Bucky’s amusement. 

Warnings: None! Just fluff

Word Count: 972

Prompt: “How could you miss your own birthday?”

a/n: I’m aware I missed posting something for Sam’s birthday on the 14th, so this will hopefully make up for that. This and the following 6 day are all very birthday centric stories as we get closer to my actual birthday and the end of my birthday challenge. 

MY MASTERLIST

Sam Wilson slumped to the couch in his living room, alone in the dark. He was too exhausted to even turn on a light. He felt the aches in his body ease slightly now that he was finally off his feet, and he relished in the high that release gave him, moaning slightly into the dark. 

He put his feet up on his coffee table - a terrible habit he had inherited from Bucky - and pulled out his phone. He had several texts from Bucky he had left unanswered and even a missed call. Though Sam wasn’t worried because they had a code to signal when things were an actual emergency and Sam should show up immediately in full tactical gear. 

These texts were just general check ins, though Sam was curious as to why there were so many. Then he remembered, Bucky had made dinner reservations for them for that evening and Sam hadn’t confirmed today he’d be home in time from his mission in San Francisco helping Scott. 

Sam put his phone on speaker and settled deeper into the couch. 

“Where are you?” Bucky asked, his voice soft but clearly holding back frustrations. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just not going to make it out tonight. You understand, right?” Sam said. He knew his voice sounded tired and he hoped Bucky didn’t take things personally. 

“Are you sure? We could just go for an appetizer and a beer?” Bucky said in a pleading tone, “I’m sure you need to eat after your trip.”

Sam sighed, spending an evening with his boyfriend would be great - he always slept better when Bucky was in his bed - but he really didn’t feel up for being back out in public. 

“I’m sorry, I am just too wiped out,” Sam said, “You can come over if you want, but I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get here anyway, so you should still go and eat, maybe Sharon’s around to go with you?”

There was a deadly silence on the other end of the line as Sam waited for an answer. 

“Do you know what day it is?” Bucky asked him. 

“Uh, Wednesday, I think?” Sam replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Bucky grunted on the other end, “Are you sure there’s no way you’re coming?”

Sam sighed, “I’m just not up for it.”

“Okay. I love you,” Bucky said in a tone of defeat. 

“Love you too. See you tomorrow?” Sam finished hopefully

“Tomorrow,” Bucky said as Sam yawned loudly. 

Then Sam hung up the phone and immediately fell asleep where he sat. 

The next morning, at the crack of dawn Sam noticed, he was startled awake by a very loud bangnig on his front door. It was the unmistakable sound of vibranium against wood and Sam was both annoyed and touched at the enthusiasm of his boyfriend’s early morning visit. He cracked his neck as he got off the couch, regretting sleeping on the couch all night. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Sam shouted at the door. 

He opened the door for Bucky who was leaning on the doorframe with a sultry smirk. 

“Oh yes, you’ll be coming, that’s for sure,” Bucky said causing Sam to choke on a laugh. 

“It’s 7am,” Sam said. 

“You’re point?” Bucky said, cutting Sam’s rely off with a deep kiss. He pushed Sam backwards into his house, his hands on Sam’s hips, the perfect balance of hot and cold thanks to Bucky’s sweaty palm on one side and the vibranium one on the other. 

“You have terrible breath,” Bucky said with a laugh. 

“You love it,” Sam teased. 

“I love you,” Bucky said, “There’s a difference.”

Sam led Bucky to the couch and pulled him into his lap. He tucked a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear and took his time doing so - he liked Bucky with his hair longer. 

“What are you doing here so early?” Sam asked, “I’m happy to see you and all, but still.”

“I feel like I have to make up for last night,” Bucky explained, “I should have planned something better knowing you’d just finished up in San Fran.”

Sam chuckled, “It’s fine, it’s one dinner, I’m sure we’ll have more.”

Bucky cocked his head and watched Sam intently, “Just a dinner?”

“Oh shit, did I forget an anniversary or something?” Sam said, confused. 

 “How could you miss your own birthday?” Bucky said, “Not just miss it, but forget it all together!”

Sam’s eyes went wide with realization, “My birthday.”

“Yes, your birthday,” Bucky said, shaking his head, “I had a whole surprise party planned. I even flew Sarah into town. She’s pissed by the way.”

Sam buried his head in Bucky’s chest, “I am an idiot.”

“Yes you are,” Bucky said, holding Sam’s face in his hands and forcing him to look up at him, “But you’re my idiot.”

Then Bucky kissed Sam so deeply Sam forgot his own name along with his birthday. They stayed there on the couch, kissing deeply, and thoroughly until they were interrupted by Sarah walking in the front door. 

“Sam!” she called from the front, announcing her presence. 

“In here!” Sam called back and Bucky slipped off his lap. 

Sarah entered with a large sheet cake in her hands. 

“Let’s blow out these candles quickly, I wanna eat it,” she said, dropping it forcefully yet precisely on the small coffee table. “I was promised a fun weekend out without any kids and surrounded by sexy Avengers, but I guess breakfast cake with you two will have to do.”

Bucky and Sam both laughed and Bucky left to grab a lighter and some forks from the kitchen as Sarah popped some candles on top. 

It wasn’t the flashiest of birthdays, and it was a whole day late, but Sam doesn’t think he’s ever had a better birthday. 

Birthday Challenge Masterlist

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part sixteen

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

  Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

The Night of the Infiltration

While she’d spent the night dissecting her and Noir’s relationship, she rose from bed the next morning with a clear head. With a long night ahead, she could not afford any distractions. At work, her and Martha chatted, and the blonde attempted to gauge her friend’s state of mind. She seemed steady, focused and—well, normal. Nothing seemed to affect her or frustrate her in the least that day. Not the printer not working, or her computer experiencing technical issues. She didn’t mind the terribly long line in the cafeteria and didn’t seem to care when her papers were misplaced by the office mailman. She was utterly impassive.

Martha worried, even though these were all positive signs. If she’d seen Sarah growing evermore nervous and angry, she’d have pulled the plug. Her being impassive meant she had better control over her more violent emotions.

And soon, people began to gather their things and leave.

Martha and Sarah also shrugged on their coats, packed their bags, and left the building. Before heading their separate ways, Martha grabbed her hand bringing them to a halt.

“Be careful tonight, okay?”

Sarah nodded, wrapping her arms around herself and looking at the crowd swarming the sidewalks.

“I’m serious,” Martha pressed, “I’ll be ready, and get it done as quickly as possible.”

“I know, I’ll be careful,” Sarah promised.

Martha nodded, satisfied with her answer, and pulled her friend into a tight hug.

She whispered, “Don’t worry, we got this, girl.”

And with a wink, Martha spun around and disappeared into the crowd. Sarah chuckled and turned the opposite way to head home.

.

An hour before go-time, Sarah could be found arming herself in her home. She steeled herself against rushing, and instead took her time. She had changed into a black suit and packed a small bag with the files and thumb drive she’d need once in the archives. 

She wore a black wig with long bangs, since she wouldn’t be able to avoid all the security cameras placed between the back entrance and the archives. The wig would confuse them of her identity since her curly hair was a distinctive aspect of her persona. It would immediately give her away. And pulling her hair into a tight bun was strictly not an option, since pulling her hair back accentuated her features. 

The suit had a particularly long turtleneck which she could easily lift over her nose, leaving only the upper part of her face exposed. That paired with the wig would be enough to conceal her identity.

She checked her utility belt and finished fixing a series of knives into their sheaths. A single gun with silencer was strapped to the top of her back where she could easily access it. A set of throwing knives were securely tucked against her calves in the side of her heavy-duty boots.

Looking in the mirror, she approved of the sleek, dark vision that was her reflection. She would be such a dangerous piece in this game against Vought. She would be unstoppable. A force to be reckoned with.

Finally, she settled at her kitchen table and waited for the minutes to tick by, counting down to the moment for action. When the clock struck eleven, she rose and made her way out the back door. Crossing her dimly lit backyard, she hoisted herself over the wooden fence and disappeared into the shadows of the back alleys.

.

Once she’d made it to Vought’s back entrance, she quickly slipped on the glove she’d gotten from Mallory. It felt odd on her skin, as it was made from a biosynthetic material. As soon as the sensor captured the fingerprints, she quickly shrugged it off and placed it into its protective case, which she then slid back into her bag. She stepped into the elevator and punched the button for level 02.

The elevator rose soundlessly, no music or simple tune to ease the tension. The doors slid open, and she cautiously stepped out. She quickly moved down the hall towards the archives and pressed her back to the wall as she neared the final corner to reach its entrance. At night, there were always a team of guards who made sure there were no break-ins, even though it had never occurred before. Two were placed at the building’s entrance, another two near the R&D sector of the building and one near the archives.

She heard the scuffle of shoes against tiled pavement, and the deep sigh that followed. She pulled out a small mirror and used it to look beyond the corner.

There he was. The guard seemed fit, maybe in his mid-thirties. He was seated and scrolling through whatever had his attention on the tablet he held.

Sarah flipped the mirror shut, storing it away.

She grabbed the baton from her belt and focused on her breathing. At her next exhalation, she moved out into the hall and flipped it in his direction. It hit him straight in the face, and while he raised his hands, she sped towards him, kicking him down.

“what the fu—”

She twisted his arm behind his back, and removed all of his weapons, sliding them out of reach. Finally, she crooked her other arm around his neck and dragged him out of potential cameras’ view.

The radio on the guard’s belt crackled to life, “Hey we heard something down your way. Everything okay?”

She pressed harder on his windpipe. “Answer them. Everything is fine.”

“You bitc—”

“None of that, I’m afraid,” she scolded. “Now tell me,” she questioned with a genuinely curious voice, “Do you care more about this company or your life?”

She felt him go still in her arms, followed by a useless attempt to get out of her hold. She held fast, focusing on the mechanics of her grip rather than brute strength. He could get out of the hold, but to do so he’d have to break his own shoulder. She smirked.

“I’ll repeat myself one more time,” she whispered, “Are you going to give your life for this fucking company tonight?”

Finally, he shook his head no.

“Then tell your buddies you dropped your tablet or some bullshit like that.”

He nodded, and she brought the mic up to his lips.

“Everything’s all right, boys,” he hesitated, “Just dropped my tablet with my dumb ass.”

Some laughs broke through the small device, “Take it easy Jackson.”

She clicked the radio’s mic off, satisfied with his answer.

“Yeah, take it easy Jackson,” she whispered in his ear before effectively knocking him out. She took the key card from around his neck.

Sarah rose and flattened her bangs back into place. Stepping over his body, she walked over to the entrance and swiped the card. Access granted.

She withheld her satisfaction and stepped into the dimly lit space. Closing the door behind her, she switched the lights on.

The room was even larger than she had imagined. Rows and rows of servers occupied the room and shelves with boxes full of files lined the walls. A single desk and computer sat alone at the entrance. She quickly took a seat and searched the index for the items she needed to find.

She searched the applied physiology lab and couldn’t find any match. She ran a hand through the straight black locks of hair, sighing in frustration. The guard would be out for a while, but not long enough for her to search the whole database. She inserted a few more dead-end searches. Finally, an idea struck. She typed in her patient code from when she’d been a part of Vought’s experimental treatment. Surely they kept records of their experiments, trials and advancements.

She struck gold and immediately noted the server code on a small piece of paper. Then she quickly searched for Sarah Burns, immediately finding her file among the Vought employees. She noted her file’s position amid the boxes as well.

She turned the computer off and rose out of her seat, taking a second to figure her way through the maze of servers.

Once she’d found the right one, she recalled Martha’s directions on where to put the thumb drive. Double checking, she plugged it into the right slot and pulled her burner phone out.

She sent a quick text. I’m in.

Not ten seconds later, she’d received an answer. I’m on it.

In the meantime, she made her way towards the employee files, committing the path to memory so that she could later find her way back to the thumb drive.

She found her box and flipped through the different folders held inside. Finally, she reached the one on Sarah Burns. She took the papers out and replaced them with the ones she’d fabricated in their stead. Slipping the originals into her bag, she put the box back in its place.

Turning around, she sped back to the server they were currently hacking.

She checked her phone as she weaved through the columns of devices, wires and switches.

She’d gotten a text. Done.

She sent one back. Ok, I’m going to disconnect.

There were only a few corners left and she’d have the USB, ready to leave the building.

It’s already disconnected.

This immediately made her halt. She gathered her breathing, her already alert state of mind sharpening even further. She wasn’t alone.

If it was the guard, there would be no issue, but if it was a member of the Seven, this room was about to be wrecked. She prayed that it wasn't Homelander.

She inched closer with caution in every step.

She peered around the corner and found the server’s glass door closed with no thumb drive sticking out of it. She wanted to curse but focused instead on the sounds around her. When she heard nothing, no steps, no breathing, she realized someone was watching her, toying with her.

Did they already know? Had they simply been waiting for her to make a move?

Well, at this point they’d caught her red-handed.

That’s when she heard the slightest sound, followed by the movement of air behind her. She spun around, and almost choked.

Noir had jumped down from the top of a server and was now standing in the middle of the corridor. One of his gloved hands was curled into a fist, which without a doubt held the thumb drive she so desperately needed.

Oh God, she thought. This isn’t going to end well.

They stood still, staring, and waiting for each other to make the first move. If he was waiting to see if she’d run, he was going to find himself terribly disappointed. She knew from her data collection with Mallory that he enjoyed a hunt. This would be no predator and prey dynamic.

This was a predator facing another predator over a piece of property. She would not go down easy, nor would she flee like a scared rabbit.

Black Noir observed the darkly clad woman standing across the hallway. She seemed untroubled by his presence and didn’t seem likely to back down. There was a deep-set power to her that he had difficulty pinpointing. She looked like an elastic ready to snap.

Tired of waiting, he took firm steps towards her. Any enemy of Vought was an enemy of his, and Mr. Edgar had given him clear orders. She was to be either detained or eliminated.

As he moved towards her, she held still. She watched him approach, and he almost faltered at the intensity of her gaze, the total lack of fear in her awfully familiar eyes.

The eyes that were blazed in his mind since that night at the gala…

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he focused on the task at hand. As he reached her, he wrapped his fingers around her neck hoisting her off the ground.

Sarah felt the characteristic surge of warmth and energy surge through her chest and outwards through her limbs. She placed her palm against his chest plate, feeling it melt under her touch. Finally, she let go. The sudden transfer of energy sent him flying backwards and through a server which crackled and beeped loudly as it went offline.

Noir stepped out of the wrecked device and looked at her before rushing to the side and slamming her through another server. She literally burnt a hole through the tower and looked back at him through the opening. Sarah almost laughed, immediately hoisting herself up off the pavement. She felt a surge of energy and climbed to the top where he met her.

She took a standard fighting position, ready for anything he’d send her way. It’d been some time since she’d fought, and this would be the first time she’d be challenged by someone of equal strength. There was no holding back here, on either side.

And she’d get the thumb drive back no matter what.

Again, he was the first to move in with a punch aimed straight for her head. Sliding under his outstretched arm, she kicked his knee hard and punched him in the stomach before backing away.

Reaching down, she took a dagger into hand and threw it his way, nicking his cheek. If she’d wanted to she could have sent it flying into his skull, although that too wouldn’t have been enough to stop him. Still, it had been a warning.

The fight went on, equal forces clashing against one another.

But then he caught her in a chokehold that she couldn’t escape. She wouldn’t allow him to end her or put her to sleep and have her captured. There was no way in hell it would all end here, this way.

She focused on her anger, on the pain, on her mother and father’s faces. Her mind conjured butterflies in the air around her and she followed their intricate dances intently. She smelled the smoke, felt the ashes softly coating her cheeks.

As he held her close, slowly cutting off her air supply, Black Noir came to a sudden realization. The sudden whiff of vanilla conditioning cream made him still. Her eyes. Her scent.

And then she let go, and the air around them exploded like a set of bombs.

When the dust settled, and she opened her eyes, she searched for Noir afraid of what she’d find. She found him among the wreckage, lying on his back a hand to his side.

She rushed over and cautiously kneeled beside him. She stayed alert, knowing he could kill her even in an impaired state, be it by a silent dagger or the snap of her neck.

He reached one hand up to her cheek, and she knew he’d connected the dots. Everything would be different now. Her cover was blown.

But then he did something that took her by surprise: one hand slipped into a pocket, and instead of the expected dagger, he extracted a slightly fuming, still intact thumb drive.

He held it up for her to take and signed a simple word. She nodded and squeezed his hand with her own before standing and running away. The blast had destroyed a part of the servers and it had sent the security alarms blaring. Red lights flashed in the corridors she ran down to reach the back entrance she’d used to get in.

Her brain ran even faster, thoughts clouding her senses. Ultimately, she shut them all out. She cleared her mind of everything but the thumb drive in her hand.

She thought back to Noir’s advice, or maybe threat. The one simple word he’d signed.

“Run.”

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724  @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx  @rayray1463

[moldisgoodforyou]

give a little: chapter seven (college! jj maybank x oc)

MASTERLIST

(gif from @toesure​ !)

pairing: jj maybank x oc

synopsis: charlie & jj get heated. rafe tries to stir up trouble.

warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, violence, possible triggering mention of abuse, all characters are 21+

wordcount: 3k

_______________________________________________________________________

After the fight, JJ texted Charlie consistently to check in, giving her advice about her hand and asking to hang out again. In an effort to keep JJ at arm’s length, Charlie kept her texts short and sweet. It had been a month since they first flirted at the party at the start of the summer.

It took a few days for JJ to get the hint, but he eventually backed off with his texting. Their run-ins around the island - at the grocery store, passing him and the Pogues at the Wreck as she went to work - were fairly infrequent, but friendly. He even ran into Grace on the beach and inquired about her, but loyal as always, she just rolled her eyes and left him with a “she’s doing just fine, Maybank.” After a week, JJ had enough and reached out again.

JJ: Party this Friday?

Charlie: you’re throwing one?

JJ: No, Cameron is

Charlie: rafe invited you to a party??

JJ: Sorry, I meant Sarah, but he’ll probably be there

JJ: Perfect opportunity for your plan?

Charlie: I’ll meet you there

JJ: Can’t wait to see you, Walker

Charlie: 🙄

JJ: 😘

Charlie showed up late to the party for no good reason at all, wearing her typical beach party attire of a bright red bikini top and jean shorts. Looking around at the rest of the Kooks, she felt out of place, wishing she had at least thrown on a skirt. It didn’t take long for JJ to find her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Hi, Walker. You look pretty,” he murmured to her. He lifted her bruised hand carefully, inspecting it. The bruise was yellowing and her thumb, having stayed in a splint for the past week, was back to its normal size. “Hi JJ. It’s mainly healed,” she said. “Good,” he replied. She leaned back into his touch. She hadn’t realized how much she missed being around him, inhaling his familiar scent, a mix of woodsy cologne and spearmint. There was something so reassuring about the way she fit just right in his embrace. “Did I miss anything?”

He shook his head and gently grabbed her hips, turning her in to face him. “No, but I waited for you to get here before I started drinking and I need a pong partner. And I know you’re good. I’ve seen you dominate on Thursday nights.” She grinned. “Who are we up against?” He grinned back and took her hand, leading her through the crowd. John B and Sarah were at the other end of the table and Sarah was double fisting two White Claws, already leaning into John B. She waved excitedly at Charlie. JJ ducked his head and whispered into Charlie’s hair, his lips brushing against her ear. “You thought you had a low tolerance, meet drunky over here.” She barely heard him, her heart beating faster at his touch.

“Are you two done flirting and ready to play?” John B called out across the table, hitting JJ with a ping pong ball. JJ caught it after the bounce and took a shot, the ball sinking into the cup with a small splash. Charlie grinned. “Nice, Maybank!” JJ smirked, handing her the ball after Sarah missed her shot by a wide margin. He stood close behind her, his arms snaking around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. Charlie tossed the ball, it bouncing off the rim of the cup. “Don’t let me down, pretty girl,” he murmured into her ear. Charlie closed her eyes, mumbling back. “I can’t concentrate with you so close.” JJ grinned, trailing a finger down her hip and along the frayed hem of her shorts. “Yeah?”

Charlie shivered and swatted at his hand, stepping out of his grip. “Do you want to win or not?”

JJ shrugged. “I can think of more fun things we could be doing.”

Charlie immediately blushed, eyes widening. “Like what?”

JJ just laughed and drained another shot into John B and Sarah’s cups. “I’ll let you interpret that.”

To Charlie, it felt like the game dragged on for forever, JJ teasing her the entire time. His breath on her neck. His hips pressing into hers from behind. His hand gripping her hip, his thumb rubbing circles on her hip bone. The second Charlie sunk the final shot to win the game, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest private place she could find - which just so happened to be the pantry.

“What on earth are you doing?” She questioned, flicking the light on and crossing her arms.

JJ stepped close, backing her against a shelf. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“I don’t know, but I need you to do something or quit altogether.”

He smirked. “Needy girl.”

“God damnit, Maybank, I can’t stand the teasing.” Charlie whined.

“Then why were you practically avoiding me all week?” JJ asked, resting his forearms on the wall above her head.

She frowned slightly. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.” JJ said pointedly. “Is it because of the fight?”

Charlie shook her head. “No, not at all. I just..I just needed to be sure this is what I wanted to do.”

JJ quirked an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Is it?”

She nodded, confident. “Yes. I want to be with - um, I want to do this with you.”

JJ paused at her slip of the tongue. “Do what?”

Charlie stumbled over her words. “Um. The plan.”

“Right. The plan. Well, we can’t make a man jealous from inside the pantry.” He reasoned, taking another step forward and pressing his hips into hers.  

Charlie reached over and flicked off the light. “I don’t care, just kiss me.”

That was enough for JJ. He crashed his lips down into hers and she kissed back heatedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She moaned softly into the kiss and grabbed at the hem of his shirt, tugging up. “Off.” JJ grinned against her lips. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

“Shut it, I’m hardly wearing a shirt, it’s only fair,” Charlie mumbled back, tossing his shirt aside. JJ slid his hands under her ass, lifting her, and Charlie wrapped her legs around his waist. She left open-mouthed kisses along his jaw up to his ear, nipping at his earlobe with her teeth. He groaned loudly and she pressed her lips against his. “Shh. I don’t want to get caught.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair, raking her nails against his scalp and rocked her hips against his. He quickly moved one of his hands to her hip to stop her, pulling back from the kiss. “If you keep doing that we’re gonna have a problem on our hands,” he warned, gesturing to his already-evident hard on. Charlie smirked. “Can’t control yourself, Maybank?”

He shook his head seriously. “You’re the one that pulled me in here!”

“Because your hands were all over me!” She retorted.

He smirked. “No they weren’t. Just wait ‘til I actually have my hands all over you, then you won’t be able to control yourself.” He slipped his thumb under the edge of her swim top, tracing it down the side of her chest and around her back. “You look killer in red.”

Charlie let out a soft moan, her nipples hard through her fabric. “Shut up and let me kiss you.” She pulled his head down to hers, her tongue slipping in to explore her mouth. He groaned, his grip on her ass tightening.

Suddenly the door swung open and the pantry was flooded with light. JJ swung around, caught off guard, and Charlie buried her face in his shoulder, embarrassed. Sarah stood in the doorway, clearly plastered, and giggled. “Oh shit, sorry guys, um, maybe find a better place to hook up though?” JJ glared at Sarah and pointed at the door. “Cameron, get out.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, I just wanted a snack. Whatever.”

She closed the door and JJ reached over to flick on the lights. He let her down gently and laughed, sheepish. Charlie covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing.” JJ took her hands from her face and smirked. “I’m gonna take this opportunity to remind you that you’re the one that came on to me, baby.” Charlie sighed, pretending to be annoyed. “Again. Not your baby.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss her again but she ducked out from under him. “Wait, that’s it? You’re really gonna leave me with blue balls?” He complained.

Charlie gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “There. Better?” She glanced toward his hard on and smirked when she saw it, proud of her influence.

“We could do it in Rafe’s bedroom,” he suggested eagerly.

Charlie pretended to gag and grabbed his shirt from the floor, shoving it against his chest. “Literally nothing sounds worse.”

He laughed and pulled his shirt on, then reached out and smoothed her hair. “You look like you just got fucked.” He grinned, running his thumb against her lips.

She bit it playfully. “In my dreams.” She grinned back, hearing JJ’s groan in response, then walked out of the pantry alone.

JJ stood in the pantry for a good five minutes, thinking about math problems and his old-as-hell professor to will his erection away. He finally left the pantry and went back to the pong table by Sarah and the rest of the Pogues, but Charlie was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Charlie?” He asked John B. John B shrugged. “Weren’t you just with her?” JJ frowned and doubled back.

He heard a pair of voices as he moved further away from the party and closer to the hallway by the bedrooms. He stopped in his tracks, seeing Rafe alone with Charlie. “I just wanna talk, Charlotte,” Rafe breathed against Charlie’s ear, trapping her against the wall. Charlie shuddered, smelling the alcohol on his breath. She pushed him off of her and JJ walked closer. “Charlie? You alright?”

Rafe quickly turned, hearing JJ’s voice. “She’s fine, pogue, just making sure her hand’s alright. Had to show her that she left a scar.” He growled, gesturing to a small nick from her ring under his partly-healed black eye.

Charlie quickly moved to stand by JJ and he put his arm around her shoulders. “Leave her alone, Rafe,” JJ bit out in a surprisingly even tone.

Rafe smirked at JJ, raising his solo cup in a mock toast. “Did she learn that hit from you? I’m not surprised, it was solid.” He sneered at Charlie. “Control your bitch, Maybank.”

JJ raised his fist as he stepped toward Rafe and Charlie stepped in front of him, cutting off his path. “Don’t, JJ,” she urged. JJ scowled. “Fuck you, Rafe, don’t talk about her like that.”

Rafe shrugged and just smiled. “Sluts should be treated as such.”

Charlie shoved Rafe, hard. “Rafe. Shut the fuck up. Walk away.”

JJ had his fists clenched and he was practically shaking with rage, seeing red.

Rafe smirked and held his ground. He looked Charlie directly in the eye, straightening his posture so he was looking down his nose at her. “That dirty mouth is exactly why you deserved to be cheated on.”

At that, JJ lunged past Charlie and swung, but Rafe ducked in time. He grabbed a fistful of JJ’s shirt and they both went down, swinging fists back and forth. JJ slammed his fist into Rafe’s cheek and Rafe responded quickly, punching JJ square in the mouth.

Charlie yelled out, afraid to move. “JJ, Rafe, stop!”

As the commotion got louder, a small crowd gathered. It didn’t take long for John B and Pope to come sprinting down the hall, Kiara and Sarah just behind. Topper and Kelce followed. John B grabbed JJ and pulled him off of Rafe, Topper doing the same. JJ was able to get a well-placed kick to Rafe’s groin as John B dragged him away and Rafe groaned, buckling at his knees. As the fight broke up, people started returning to the party and Rafe was brought into his room to be fixed up. John B finally let go of JJ once he stopped fighting to go after Rafe again.

Charlie just stared at JJ with wide eyes once John B let him go. JJ frowned and stepped forward to embrace her in a hug, but Charlie stepped back. “Charlie, I just…I was trying to protect you.” He tried, faltering at her expression. Charlie shook her head. “It’s...fine. I’m just gonna..um, clear my head.” She turned and hurriedly left back toward the party, out to the backyard. Kiara watched her go, then stopped JJ from following her. “I’ll go find her. Give her a minute.” JJ watched his friend follow after Charlie, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” John B sympathetically clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Out at the party, Charlie sat alone way out in the backyard, looking out at the water with her knees pulled up to her chest. She couldn’t stop replaying the visual of JJ throwing punches left and right, without hesitation. “Charlie?” Kie asked, stepping up behind her. “Are you okay?” Charlie nodded, eyes trained on the ocean. Kie sat next to her, glancing over her for any signs of a fight on her part. “What happened?” She asked gently. Charlie ran her hands over her face, sighing. “Um, I went to go find the bathroom and Rafe ran into me. He was just being a dick, and then JJ found us and Rafe said some...stuff to piss him off.” Charlie frowned. “I wish he could have just walked away.”

Kiara laughed softly. “JJ will never walk away if someone talks shit about someone he cares about.” Charlie shrugged. “I doubt he feels like that about me.” Kie frowned a little. “He’s worried about you. Can I tell him you’re out here?” Charlie paused, then nodded. “Yeah.” Kiara got up, then turned back to Charlie before walking away. “Be careful with him, all right?” She left, leaving Charlie wondering.

Ten minutes later, JJ walked up and sat next to Charlie, leaving some space between them. Charlie moved over and filled the space, leaning into him slightly. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders gently. She looked up and examined his face. He was sporting a split lip, but nothing more. “Are you alright, Charlie? What happened? He didn’t touch you, did  he?” He asked, concerned. Charlie nodded. “I’m fine. After I left you, I was looking for the bathroom and we ran into each other. You found us pretty quickly.”

JJ frowned, playing with her hair to comfort her. “Why did you come out here?” he asked. Charlie tilted her head toward him as he gently combed through her hair with his fingers and bit  her lip, thinking before she spoke. “I hate fighting. Rafe used to get into fights all the time when we dated, it freaked me out every time. Seeing him violent like that.” JJ sighed quietly and sat her up so he could look her in the eye. “Did he ever hit you, Charlie?” Charlie shook her head quickly. “No, no, never. He just yelled a lot. He just wasn’t very nice,” she understated.

“Why didn’t you just walk away, JJ? Why do you always fight?” JJ’s frown deepened. “It’s a long story.” Charlie crossed her arms. “I have time.” JJ shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. I, um.” He shifted, clearly uncomfortable and it was Charlie’s turn to be concerned. “You can trust me, JJ.” He twisted his rings as a nervous habit until she took one of his hands in hers. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her. “Uh. My mom left when I was younger, and my dad wasn’t too happy about that growing up. We got in fights a lot.” He opened his eyes, afraid of Charlie’s reaction. “All parents fight with their kids,” she replied, confused. JJ swallowed and looked down at his feet. “Not like mine.”

It clicked and Charlie let out a small sigh. “Oh, JJ...” JJ ran his hand through his hair, not making eye contact. “It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it. I moved in with John B the second I turned 18 so I’ve had time to get over it.” Charlie moved closer and put her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in so his head was on her chest. He leaned into her as she held him tight. “I’m so sorry, JJ. I wouldn’t have asked,” she murmured. JJ shook his head. “S’okay. I just hate hearing him talk about you like that. You don’t deserve that trash.” She pressed a kiss into his hair. “I don’t want you to get hurt over me.”

“I’m okay. He’s a shit fighter anyway.” JJ mumbled.

Charlie laughed softly. “Not the point, J.”

He sat up a little. “That’s new.”

“Hm?”

“J. You’ve never called me that.”

Charlie paused. “Is that okay?”

JJ nodded, settling back into her. “I like it.” Charlie smiled and ran her fingers through his hair for a few minutes as the two of them sat together in silence. She pressed another kiss into his hair and shook her head to herself, thinking. “JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“My cousin is getting married next week. Do you want to go with me?”

He sat up quickly. “You want me to be at your cousin’s wedding?” He sounded a little incredulous. “Why, is Rafe gonna be there?”

Charlie shook her head. “No, no, of course not.”

“So...why are you inviting me?”

Charlie flicked his arm. “Because I like you, Maybank.”

JJ beamed at her affirmation. “You’re alright,” he teased. Charlie scowled and poked his side, and JJ did the same. Charlie flinched away, laughing. “Watch your hands!”

“You didn’t mind them earlier, Walker.” He smirked. “And we never finished what we started…”

Charlie blushed. “You’re trouble.”

He grinned. “You like trouble.”

TAGLIST: @booksandshish @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @outerbanksbro @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @annedub​​ @casper17​

[ghostbustermelanieking]

phantom weights chapter seven

one, two, three, four, five, six

season 11, post my struggle iv. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: In the wake of their second encounter, Mulder, Scully, and Jackson reconnect (both by accident and on purpose.)

thanks to @reasonandfaithinharmony for advice on this chapter, and the suggestion of the type of thing mulder should say towards the end of this chapter.

---

On an evening nearly three weeks after Lily was born, Mulder was sitting out on the porch with her and watching the sun set. Scully was inside, asleep on the couch; her sleeping schedule had grown sporadic and spotty in recent days, and she tried to sleep when the baby was sleeping, but those periods didn't always overlap, and Mulder hated to wake her up, even if it was an odd time to nap. Anytime she could sleep for more than twenty minutes before being woken up seemed like a blessing to him.

Lily was staring at Mulder with a focused sort of look, like she was concentrating hard, when he saw a car rolling down the driveway, Jackson at the wheel. His son's face illuminated by the orange light of the sinking sun, his expression unreadable. Mulder was overjoyed and nervous to see him all at once.

"There's your big brother," he whispered to Lily, who grabbed at his nose determinedly. He chuckled and moved her down to the crook of one arm as he stood, lifting his opposite hand in a wave. He absently wondered how long Jackson would be here this time.

Jackson gathered a bundle of plastic bags from the car and jogged up to the porch. "Hey," he said as he mounted the stairs, breathing hard. "I-I brought you guys some takeout. Japanese. Figured you wouldn't want to cook, right?"

Surprised, Mulder said, "Right." He didn't mind cooking, of course, and even Scully tried to take a turn or two when he himself was asleep, but it would be nice not to have to cook or drive into town for food. (Delivery only went so far out, and they seemed to be past the realm of reasonable delivery. And no one liked to deal with the damned gate.) The baby started to fuss and he shushed her, rocking back and forth awkwardly.

"Hey, kid," Jackson said, addressing Lily. She continued to whimper, her face half-turned into Mulder's shirt. "She's happy to see me," he said dryly. "Is she hungry?"

"Probably." Mulder held her against his chest, whispering soothing things against her downy head. He should probably go wake up Scully; Lily needed to eat, and she'd want to see Jackson. "D-do you wanna come in, Jackson?" he asked, hoping desperately his voice was welcoming. He was happy to see him, incredibly so, and he hated the little bit of hesitance inside of him. He smiled at his son, bouncing his daughter up and down gently, but the smile felt a little thin, and he hated that. He tried to smile harder.

He couldn't tell if Jackson noticed. He nodded eagerly, heading for the door. "Yeah, that… that'd be great, thanks."

---

It was Sarah's break-in that had done it, really. Had convinced him that nothing was happening, that it was all in his head.

Jackson had been back and forth on the whole issue since Lily's birth. It was clear that he had misinterpreted the situation; he could see the whole situation a little clearer now, after the whole thing was over, and when he'd gotten home to Richmond and saw that Mulder's panic was a result of fear and past trauma. He hadn't been there when Jackson had been born and found it hard to see Dana in pain, he'd had to fight his way through a crowd of strangers in a strange place to get to them after the birth. It was no wonder he was scared and suspicious of everyone who came into Dana's hospital room, especially considering the increased risk of having a child at her age. The realization that they'd both had an overreaction made Jackson feel a little foolish, but it was also sort of relieving, knowing they hadn't been in danger. (The fact that no one had come for the baby was very reassuring. Jackson still got flashes of his birth sometimes, of that strange, dusty place, strangers packed around the bed, staring at him, Dana screaming, "This is my baby! You can't have him!" He'd been terrified that it would happen to his sister—and considering Mulder's panic, he hadn't been the only one.)

The fear hadn't dissipated; when he'd ran, he had been worried that they were still coming for him. But the false alarm had left Jackson wary, wary of his paranoia. He'd overreacted as much as Mulder, and the things that had set him off in the past seemed arbitrary in comparison. Both times he'd feared they were targeting people to get to him—the break-in at Sarah's house, and the people watching Mulder and Dana at the beach—nothing seemed to come of the threats. He checked in on Sarah every now and then, just to see that she was okay, and she was always fine. No more break-ins, that he could see, and no attempts to take her, no one following her… Of course, he didn't see everything, it felt wrong to be in his ex-girlfriend's head after everything, but from what he saw, it seemed okay. She seemed okay, seemed happy. And he checked in on Bri, every now and then, and saw more of the same. Normality. They'd left him behind, and he knew it was for the best.

Nobody was going after Bri or Sarah, and nobody seemed to be going after his family—he'd checked in with his grandmother, the one who hated him now, and his Aunt Ursula, and his uncle who was some hunter up in Alaska or whatever. And no one after Mulder and Dana, either, and they seemed like the obvious choice. They were the ones mixed up in all of this. They were the ones bringing another kid like him into the world. But no one seemed to be coming for them, either. Not since that trip to the beach, and even then, those people had never directly gone after them. They'd just hung back, taking pictures. They hadn't gone after Jackson when he ran, and they hadn't gone after Mulder and Dana while he was gone… So what had they wanted, if not him? Why hadn't they chased him? Why hadn't they gone after Mulder and Dana if they wanted them?

Mulder thought this was all over. He'd said as much, back in July, when Jackson had asked about the people coming after him, who'd come all their lives. I'm inclined to believe this is all over, he'd said. Jackson hadn't believed him at the time, but what if he was right?

And then Jackson's Google alert had pinged. He'd gotten an email that he saw at the library. They caught the guy who robbed Sarah's house. He was a kid who had a crush on her younger sister, and was annoyed that she wouldn't give him the time of day. Apparently he'd been breaking into places for years, apparently he wanted to scare Sarah's sister as revenge, and all the stolen shit was just a bonus. Not a trained assassin, just a stupid asshole who liked break-ins. Maybe it was a cover for the assassins, but Jackson didn't think it was. It didn't feel like it was.  

It had made him think about things. The break-in was a coincidence, just like the thing with Mulder and Dana had been a coincidence. And it made him start thinking about what happened at the beach. He'd reached, and he landed on a memory, the morning after he'd been a total asshole and then ran out. Dana taking Daggoo out to pee, and the neighbors coming to talk to her. They weren't assassins or agents, at least not according to what they'd said to Dana. They had recognized Dana and Mulder from that jackass Tad O'Malley's web show. They were fans, not assassins; they were taking pictures because they recognized Dana and Mulder from that show. That was why they were watching, and that was why they didn't ever come for them.

Maybe it was all a coincidence. Jackson lodged that idea firmly in his mind and didn't let it go. He couldn't let his guard down, not again. But thinking back to everything that had happened put things into perspective. He had been staying in one place for months, and they hadn't found him. Sure, he'd been careful, he used aliases, but he'd used aliases on the run, when he was constantly moving and hiding, and they still found him. Why hadn't they found him now? If they wanted him, why hadn't they come? It was easier to get to him now than ever before. They could've come, but they hadn't, and maybe that meant it was really over.

Jackson didn't know for sure. But he had been trying to let go of his paranoia, at least a little. He didn't want to be so closed off from people. It was a lonely fucking way to live. He didn't exactly know who he could reconnect with, but he needed someone. He couldn't keep living alone, on edge. He couldn't do it. He was torturing himself, living in constant paranoia, constantly worrying. He couldn't take it. Who could fucking take it?

And besides that, he wanted to see the kid again. He'd promised he would come back, and he intended to keep that promise. It was time he checked in, made sure Lily was getting along okay. It was time he tried to make amends with Dana and Mulder.

So he'd driven up to Farrs Corner, stopped and got some food—a peace offering, maybe—and made the long trek out to their house. He found Mulder and the kid out on the porch, and felt the same wave of relief and welcoming that he usually felt from his apparent birth father. But layered under it was a sense of wariness, of caution, small but stunning.

Jackson yanked back from Mulder's mind as he clambered up the steps and into the house.

---

Inside, Mulder bent over the couch, touching a gentle hand to Scully's head to wake her up. She'd been sleeping lightly lately, to the point where he was a little surprised the bang of the screen door hadn't woken her. She woke slowly, blinking sleepily as she sat up. He still held Lily in the crook of his arm, and Scully smiled and whispered, "Hey, sweetheart," and leaned in to kiss the top of her head.

"You get some rest?" Mulder asked, offering his free hand to help her up.

She took it but didn't stand, yawning. "A little. I'm still so tired. I'm so tired, Mulder."

"I know." He bent to kiss her forehead, squeezing her hand. "So someone dropped in a few minutes ago," he offered, shifting Lily to curl up against his shoulder. She was already getting sleepy again, her eyes lolling shut, and he figured they could put her down for a little while so they could eat. "And he brought some food."

Scully turned towards the kitchen and found Jackson, standing beside the counter. A grin spread over her face, to which he offered an awkward smile in return. "Hi, Jackson," she said, getting to her feet. "It's so good to see you."

She'd cried when they found him gone that morning. She'd been exhausted and hormonal, and probably still in pain, but she'd still cried. Finding the note he left had helped a lot—had seemed to cheer her up—but Mulder could still remember the hurt on her face when they found him gone again. Could feel the hesitance on her now, even as happy as she was. The same hesitance he had.

It made him feel guilty and horrible, the way he had when he'd felt this way at the beach—after everything he'd been through, everything he had missed with William, every moment he'd hated himself for letting him go, how could he ever hesitate at spending time with him? But then he thought of the things he had said in that beach house, the way Scully had burst into tears when he was gone, and the feelings only seemed to grow. He didn't want his son to leave—god, he didn't want that—but he did want things to be easy. He wanted Jackson to be theirs, really be theirs, and he didn't want to constantly be on edge, wondering when his son was going to up and disappear, or say something to hurt his wife. He wanted things to be simple, but he knew they probably wouldn't ever be.

But still, it was amazing to see him, as it was every time—would it never not be amazing to see his son, his grown son? He could tell Scully was overjoyed, even though her emotions were conflicting. And even as Mulder worried, it made him feel a little better when Jackson asked how Scully was feeling. Lily was nearly asleep, her fingers in her mouth, and so he took her upstairs to put her down and gave Scully and Jackson a moment to talk.

They didn't talk much over dinner; Mulder and Scully were both too exhausted to make much conversation. They ate in the living room, and Jackson found a channel that was airing horror movies in honor of the upcoming Halloween season, and Scully smiled. Mulder watched the two of them absently, the flickering light of the TV on their faces. They looked alike in this light; they had the same eyes, even if they were different colors.

Mulder got up to throw away the trash when they were done, taking the Styrofoam boxes and the crumpled napkins into the kitchen. "Oh, uh, I can help with that," Jackson said when he saw him, scrambling to his feet like he had something to compensate for.

"No, no, don't worry about it," said Mulder. "I've got it."

Jackson nodded and collapsed back into the chair, sagging into it. He seemed as uncomfortable as they were, fidgeting where he sat. As Mulder stuffed the boxes into the couch, he spotted his wallet on the counter, and his sleep-lacking mind seemed to remember: he should pay his son for the food. He retrieved two twenties and passed them to Jackson as he sat back down. "For the food."

"Thank you so much for bringing it," Scully added. "You didn't have to do that."

"It… was the least I could do," Jackson said, and he shoved the money back at Mulder, who shook his head.

"Take it, sweetie," Scully said, and Mulder could see her slight flinch. He knew she was trying to back off, trying not to suffocate him with unwanted mothering (her words), and he knew it was difficult. Of course it was difficult. "I-I know Burger King can't be paying you very much," she added quickly, trying to recover.  

Jackson laughed, maybe a little uneasily, and tucked the money in his pocket. "They're not," he said. "Uh, thanks."

"Thank you," Scully said gently.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the Halloween score filling it, until they heard Lily wailing from upstairs. "That's my cue," Scully said with a little sigh, getting to her feet. "I'm heading to bed after I feed her." She leaned down to kiss Mulder goodnight.

"I'll be up in a minute," he said, squeezing her hand.

Scully nodded, turning towards the stairs. "Goodnight, Jackson," she added gently.

Jackson swallowed heavily, shifting in place. "Night, Dana."

As her footsteps retreated upstairs, Mulder turned to face his son. He was watching as Michael Myers stalked across the screen, his face lit up by the light of the television. His expression was as unreadable as always.

Mulder swallowed hard, hating himself for even asking the question, but knowing that he had to know for sure. He said, “So, Jack… how long do you think you’ll be here?” It sounded cruel to his ears, selfish and unwelcoming, and he was stricken with a sudden fear that these words were going to be enough to drive Jackson away.

Jackson didn’t look at him, but Mulder could hear a touch of discomfort in his voice when he said, “Uh, I have work on Sunday, so probably either tomorrow night or early that morning. You know.”

“Right,” said Mulder, his mouth dry, guilt clogging his throat. He had no idea how to navigate this, walk the line between protecting Scully’s feelings and trying to make his son feel welcome. He could try to reach out and risk getting hurt, or he could be distant and risk hurting Jackson, but really, neither option sounded very good. “Of course, you’re always welcome here,” he added in a rush. “I just… wondered…”

“Yeah, no, definitely,” Jackson said quietly. “It’ll be Saturday or Sunday, I can tell you for sure later.”

“Okay.” Mulder bit back a yawn, exhaustion overtaking him. “I-I’m going to bed. I apologize in advance if the kid keeps you up.” He tried to make his voice sound light and breezy, like he wasn’t upset. (He didn’t have any right to be upset.)

Jackson finally turned to look at him, the shadows of the darkening room hiding his eyes. “It’s okay. I don’t sleep a lot anyway.”

Mulder locked the door before he went upstairs, and it seemed to him that, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackson throwing him a grateful look. It stuck out to him for some reason as significant, that Jackson seemed grateful that he was locking the door, but he was so tired, his mind foggy, that he barely had the energy to think about it.

He found Scully upstairs in bed, covers tucked around her, feeding Lily with pillows layered across her lap. (It was still fairly hot for October, but Scully managed to be cold in almost any form of weather.) “Hey,” he murmured, walking across the room to the dresser so he could change.

Scully yawned in reply. “Thank goodness she didn’t inherit your sleeping patterns,” she murmured, stroking the top of their daughter’s head. “She’s gone down so well every night, even if it doesn’t last more than a couple hours.”

“Most newborns spend the majority of their day sleeping,” Mulder said absently, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “Even Mulder newborns.”

She had a thoughtful sort of look on her face, looking down at the baby. “William never went down very easy,” she said softly. “I’d have to rock him… sing to him, talk to him… for what felt like hours.”

Mulder looked down at the floor, the rug he was standing on. He could still make out the patterns despite the dimness of the room, could still remember the day they’d picked this rug out. It was still hard to hear about everything he’d missed, even now, and even harder considering how the night had gone. “Maybe she’ll stay like this,” he commented to the floor.  

“Maybe.” Scully’s voice was soft, not entirely unhappy, and when he looked up, she was smiling sleepily down at the baby.

He smiled, too, and went to sit on the bed beside her. Lily was nearly asleep, curled against her mother with her eyes half-closed, and he reached down to hold her hand in his, his head tipping forward until his cheek was resting against Scully’s shoulder. “I’ll give her a bottle when she wakes up,” he whispered. “You sleep.”

She snorted. “Easier said than done,” she said, but he heard the thanks in her voice. He sat up straight and pushed hair away from her face, behind her ear. She smiled a little again, turning her face into his palm. “How’s he doing?” she asked him softly.

“He’s okay.” Mulder swallowed hard, looking back down at Lily, snuffling in her half-asleep state. “He said he had work Sunday, so he’d leave tomorrow night or the next morning.”

“Okay.” Scully yawned again, wider this time. “That’s good to know.”

“Yeah.”

“He… He seems like he might not be as mad at us,” Scully said softly. When Mulder looked over at her questioningly, she added, “He… seems like he’s trying.”

“Yeah,” Mulder said again. He could see the note he had left last time still sitting on Scully’s bedside table, creased from being folded up.

“He genuinely seemed worried about me and the baby, when he came a few weeks ago.” Scully yawned once again, this time trying to talk around it. “And in the note… he thanked us…”

Lily was already asleep on Scully’s lap, so Mulder reached down to scoop her up, moving her to the crib. “We should get some sleep,” he whispered, moving back to lie down beside Scully, draping an arm over her shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll still be here when we wake up tomorrow.” He said it even though he wasn’t completely sure, even though he halfway expected to find the house empty besides them tomorrow, note or no note.

But in the morning, Jackson was still there, asleep sprawled out on the couch when Mulder went down to let Daggoo out. He felt shame twisting in his chest, and then relief, genuine relief. He was so relieved to find his son still there.

---

The day following was more or less uneventful—maybe more so than Scully would’ve liked. A part of her still felt the need to entertain Jackson, to convince him that, yes, it was worth it to have a relationship with them, past lending money and buying food. It was kind of a ridiculous line of thinking, considering that in the past, they hadn’t done much more than go get lunch or go down to the beach—and besides that, they were too exhausted for much else, and Jackson had always sort of done his own thing, anyway. But she still felt strangely guilty, like a parent of divorce who never saw their kid, for not having anything very interesting to offer her son.

Jackson seemed pretty okay with it, though. He ate the breakfast that Mulder made, and offered awkwardly to help clean up after. He took Daggoo for several long walks (runs, he called them, although Scully suspected that Daggoo’s little legs wouldn’t hold out for a long run), and found movies on TV for the three of them to watch. He borrowed Scully’s laptop and played some sort of game on it, which Scully might’ve minded in a different state of mind—she had a lot of idle research saved on there—but in this context, she couldn’t really bring herself to care. He offered to watch Lily after lunch, which Mulder seemed a little apprehensive about, but agreed to, either because he knew they both needed a break, or because he didn’t want to offend Jackson, or both. Scully felt a little guilty about it herself, as much as she relished the chance to get some rest. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked gingerly, balancing Lily in the crook of one arm. She seemed as ready for a nap as they were, which boded well for Jackson, but it still seemed a bit odd to stick a teenager with a newborn. “She’ll probably just sleep the whole time.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” he said mildly. “I mean, what else am I gonna do?” He motioned to the TV and the computer.

Scully bit her lower lip and nodded, putting Lily down in the little bassinet thing they’d gotten for downstairs. “Just keep an eye on her,” she said. “If she wakes up, we’ve got bottles in the fridge, and diapers upstairs… Do you know how to change diapers?” she asked a little helplessly.

She was relieved when Jackson nodded, a little uncertainly. “We stayed with a friend of my mom’s who had a baby last summer, and I got put on diaper duty a couple times,” he said. “So I guess I’ve, uh, done it before.”

“Okay,” she said. “Well, uh, if you have questions or need help with anything, come right on up and get us.”

“Anything,” Mulder added. “We don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Jackson’s attention was halfway turned to the TV, but he nodded at them.

Mulder still seemed a little nervous at the prospect, which was understandable on Scully’s—it had little to do with Jackson, at least from her perspective, and more to do with the anxiety that came with Lily being with someone who wasn’t one of them; she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling it a bit herself—but they still managed to get upstairs and crawl into bed. They slept for almost three uninterrupted hours, waking in the late afternoon and going down to find Jackson still on the couch, Lily’s bassinet pulled up beside him as he watched TV. “She, uh, she stayed asleep, mostly,” he said nervously when they came down, like he was worried they were going to be upset about something. “She woke up once, but she didn’t really cry, so I didn’t do anything. Was that right?”

Scully went to the smaller bassinet and scooped her daughter up, who had woken up at the sound of them coming downstairs and was beginning to whimper. “She looks fine to me,” she said, sitting down on the couch and easing Lily into the crook of one arm. “I think she’s probably hungry… Thank you for watching her,” she said to Jackson.

“We really appreciate it,” Mulder added. “We needed the rest.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Jackson got to his feet, saying, “She’s a good kid,” again, as if he wanted to remind them. He rocked back on his heels and added, “I’m gonna go upstairs for a while.”

“Okay,” Scully said. Jackson was disappearing up the stairs almost immediately then, not quite running, but not quite walking, either. “I guess the actual babysitting freaked him out a lot more than the concept,” she said to Mulder, reaching up to pull aside her shirt. She was surprised at how casual her voice sounded, like Jackson had always been their child, and he was reacting to a new sister with the typical behavior of older siblings.

“Probably.” Mulder sounded amused as she was. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’m going to go pick up some dinner, okay? Subs sound okay to you?”

“It sounds excellent,” she said, already hungry—lunch seemed more like it was months ago then just hours. “Thank you.”

“Course.” He squeezed her hand before moving away, going to the counter to retrieve his keys before heading out the door.

The sudden quiet was almost relieving, and Scully reached down to change the channel on the TV as Lily began to feed. She still felt a little sleepy after her nap, well-rested, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t happy about the prospect of a few minutes to herself. But before she landed on a channel she liked, a loud sound sliced through the air, seeming to echo through the rooms of their house and cinching tight around Scully’s chest.

Her first thought was gunshot, and she tensed in panic, pressing a hand over Lily’s head and hunching over protectively. Her mind was racing, searching for answers—Mulder, was Mulder okay, was Jackson?—and crying out in protest. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could barely hear Lily’s startled cries; she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. It took a few moments, and the rumbling sound of Mulder’s car, for her to process that it wasn’t a gunshot. His engine had backfired.

She readjusted her shirt with a trembling hand, getting to her feet and trying to shush Lily as she walked to the window and looked out. No sign of assassins at their doorstep, or soldiers on the lawn, just the back end of Mulder’s car rolling down the driveway. She took a shaky breath, and then another, pressing her lips to Lily’s head and whispering, Shhh, shhh again. Nothing to worry about, she was okay.

She was turning away from the window when she heard the next sound: thundering, frantic footsteps from above. Jackson was running towards, his feet pounding the floorboards, and before she could ask what was going on, she heard his voice, tight and frightened and booming. “Dana?” he bellowed. “Mulder?”

He stumbled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes widening when he saw her standing by the window. He looked frantic, his hands balled into fists, his chin trembling, and Scully realized in an instant that she wasn’t the only one who’d heard a gunshot a few moments ago.

He was shaking, the way she had been a second ago, his face twisted with fury and fear, and he stammered out angrily, “A-a-are you…?”

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, remembering. (The shots, the bodies sprawled on the floor of a kitchen she’d never been in, but recognized from her dreams. The third gunshot from upstairs…) “We’re okay, we’re okay. I-it was just Mulder’s car backfiring.”

Jackson’s eyes widened in understanding, his limbs going limp as the panic left his body. “Oh,” he muttered, sagging in a chair, sprawling out and leaning his face forward in his hands.

Scully wanted to go and comfort him, but she didn’t know if he even wanted that from her. And besides, there was still Lily, screaming so loud it would be hard to talk with him. She began to rock her back and forth, whispering and shushing and humming under her breath. Lily began to calm, her sobs subsiding into hiccups. When she finally quieted, Scully went to sit on the couch, on the side closest to Jackson’s chair. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

Jackson seemed to have calmed, the fear and tension gone, but he still wasn’t looking at her. He still had his forehead in his hands. “I-I thought it was a gun…” he replied softly.

“I know,” said Scully. “I did, too.” She’d heard enough gunshots and threatening sounds to jump at a car backfire, she could still remember people breaking down her front door to come and kill her and Mulder.

Jackson’s voice was sharp when he spoke, like he was embarrassed. “I thought they were coming to—” He cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head hard, gritting his teeth. He looked towards another corner of the room, away from her. “Are they are going to fucking stop?” His voice sounded as if it was wrenched from his throat, raw. “Are they going to stop coming for me? Am I ever going to be fucking safe? Goddamnit!” He kicked the coffee table, hard enough to nearly topple it over, and it landed back in place with a bang.

Scully looked at Lily, worried the loud sound would startle her, but she still looked miraculously calm. Not on the verge of tears. She looked back to her son and saw tears welling in his eyes, shining in the light of the room. “I never wanted this for you, you know,” she said, her voice low. “Never. I… I wanted you to have a different life than this.”

Jackson laughed bitterly, thumping his foot softer against the coffee table. “Not your fault.”

“It is,” Scully said, a little bitterly herself, because she knew it was. She shifted her eyes to the ground. “It is, and I… I just want you to understand that—”

“No, it’s not,” he interrupted her, his voice stony and serious. When she looked back at him, he was looking back at her solemnly. Maybe angry or maybe reassuring, she couldn’t tell. But he was looking at her. “I know it’s not.”

It stunned Scully, just a little bit, because she had thought all this time that he blamed her, and she opened her mouth to reply, but he was still talking. “I… I shouldn’t have said that stuff at the beach,” he added, still in that sharp tone. Apologetic. “I shouldn’t have.”

Scully didn’t know what to say. They fell into silence, sitting side by side, Jackson leaned forward so his stomach was against his knees, and Scully shifting Lily against her. She seemed uninterested in eating now, her face buried in the side of Scully’s shirt, so Scully left her alone.

Jackson spoke first, finally, sitting up straight. “How’s the kid doing?” he asked, motioning to Lily. “Like, in general?”

Scully smiled a little. “Good. She’s good. She’s healthy.” She had her suspicions about Lily, that she was like Jackson—she’d found things shifted from where she’d left them, things out of place, and wondered—but she couldn’t be sure. And the concept didn’t scare her nearly as much this time as it had last time. It was still scary, sure, but not quite as scary. At least now they had some idea of what to do.

She saw Jackson looking at the baby, leaning towards them a little, and she asked carefully, “Do you want to hold her?” She had just realized that she didn’t think Jackson had held her yet; their interactions had been limited, and Jackson had indicated that he hadn’t really picked her up when they’d been alone.

Jackson looked very briefly terrified, but he nodded cautiously. Scully leaned down and set Lily gently in the circle of Jackson's arms. He was stiff and frozen in place, staring down at the baby like she was going to break. “I'm not very good with kids,” he said as Scully showed him how to cradle the head. He looked nervous, cupping her head with a large hand. “My mom's friend… she made me hold that kid, the one whose diapers I had to change, but he screamed the entire time I held him. I don't think kids like me.”

Lily yawned, a little smacking sound, her eyes half-closed. “She likes you,” Scully said in her reserved-for-babies voice, and resisted the urge to add, Your sister. Your sister likes you.

“Hmm.” Jackson was watching the baby. Scully heard the flicker of a word in Jackson's voice at the back of her mind, somehow silent—Hi—and Lily’s eyes slid closed contentedly. Scully thought that she must have heard him, too.

“I don’t want her life to be like mine,” he said finally, nudging her hand open with one finger. Lily yawned again. Scully nodded, understanding. Jackson looked up from his sister, meeting her eyes, and said in that same solemn manner, “I’m going to make sure it’s not.”

Scully nodded again. She reached out tentatively to touch her son’s arm, brushing her fingers over his forearm before pulling back, not wanting to overstep. “We both will,” she said.

They sat there in silence then, Scully and her children, clustered together in the living room until Mulder returned.

---

Jackson left the next morning, as he reminded them he’d do the night before. Once again, they found his bedroom empty in the morning. It still stung, just a little, but not nearly as much as all the times before.

---

If someone asked Jackson what the hell he was doing with his birth parents, he wouldn’t have been able to answer them. He didn’t entirely know himself. He’d been back and forth so much on whether or not he could have some kind of relationship with them that he was starting to confuse himself. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and he didn’t know why he’d said that stuff to Ginger that night. (Except that he kept thinking about the caution in Mulder’s mind when he’d shown up, about the hurt he’d felt from Dana when she’d said it was her fault that his life was so fucked up.)

He didn’t mean to keep in touch with them, but it just happened, and it happened mostly because of the kid. Because he wanted to keep in touch with her, even though she was still kind of a potato, and probably barely even knew he existed. But she was like him. He knew that she was like him, and he knew that she needed him, the way he had needed someone when he was a kid. Even if she had Dana and Mulder, who seemed surprisingly capable of taking care of her.

(It wasn’t that he doubted their parenting skills, but he also did. Of fucking course he did. No matter how sorry they were, they had given him up. But it was becoming more and more clear that they were capable, and probably had been capable of taking care of him. At least as capable as his parents.)

(The horrible, treacherous thought came to him one night, after waking up from a nightmare of white-masked doctors holding him back as he screamed and cried for his parents: maybe he would’ve been safer with Mulder and Dana. Maybe they could’ve protected him, if only because they knew what to expect. The idea made him nauseous and guilty, sick to his stomach, but it was strangely reassuring when it came to the potato. It made him think to himself, Maybe she’ll be okay. He and Dana had promised that she would be.)

But anyways, whatever the reason, the kid—Lily—was most of his motivation for going back. He wanted a sister, once, and he’d gotten one (another one, if you counted the little girl buried in California—which he couldn’t help but do). So he had to go back for her, if nothing else. That was, ultimately, the best reason for him to go back.

But aside from Lily, there seemed to be one other reason, if less significant than the first, to go back. It was the reason that he least wanted to acknowledge, but it kept coming up anyway. His mind kept lingering over that moment of slight recoil from Mulder. The hurt, the nervousness, the caution from them both. It shouldn't have bothered him—it was what he had wanted, after all—but for some reason, it did. Two more people to flinch away from him, to be afraid or resentful. It shouldn't have bothered him, but it did. It kept poking at him, a frequent jab in the back of his mind. You did it, asshole, you pushed them away. They hate you now. They don't want you there. He didn't think it was completely true, but he didn't want to fool himself. The emotions were there, even if they were small. And he couldn't quite let it go.

So he kept going back, if only because he couldn't quite help it. His apartment was too lonely, and sometimes, he got echoes of his sister's midnight wailing in the back of his head. He woke up one chilly Saturday in October, and knew immediately that it was Mulder's birthday, hearing a glimpse of Scully's voice. He tried not to think too much before he left, knowing only that he should go. He was on his way to Farrs Corner within the next hour and a half.

---

Jackson found Mulder at the house, halfway up the long, winding driveway, Daggoo at the end of a leash. He yipped excitedly and jumped at the car as Jackson pulled sideways onto the lawn and threw the car into Park.

Mulder shielded his eyes from the sun and smiled squintingly. "Jackson," he called out, lifting his hand in a wave.

"Hey," said Jackson, slipping out of the car and locking it behind him. He could tell without reaching too hard that the smile was genuine, cautious but genuine. He pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest, his shoulder against the car door. "Uh, happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiled a little wider, letting up his grip on the leash a little so Daggoo could greet him, jumping at his legs. Jackson crouched to scratch his head. "We haven't heard from you in a couple weeks… how are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm, uh, fine," he said, mentally cycling through the habitual pleasantries he'd always kind of hated. "How are you guys? How's the kid?"

"We're good. Kid's good." The leash slipped out of Mulder's hand, and Jackson automatically scooped it up. "She's good at screaming," he added. "I keep telling Scully that she should try out for horror movies when she gets older."

"That must drive you crazy." Jackson scooped up Daggoo, holding him like a baby as he wriggled and barked excitedly. He didn't know how to look at Mulder, so he looked at the dog, letting him lick his face. The dog was almost worth the visit in itself; he would've gotten one of his own if it was at all practical.

He remembered, suddenly, why he was there, and put Daggoo down, feeling the obvious need to speak the reasoning out loud. "Uh, do you guys mind if I stay a couple nights?" he asked. (He didn't have to work until Monday.) "I could, uh, watch the kid some, give you guys some time to yourself… Date night or whatever," he added lamely, biting back a flinch.

Mulder chuckled. "I don't know about a date night, but… of course you can stay, Jackson. You're always welcome here."

I don't think that's true, he thought reflexively, and then remembered that Mulder could hear him now, sometimes. "Uh, thanks," he said, turning the leash over and over in his hands.

"Thanks for coming into town," Mulder said, and Jackson could feel guilt under the surface of his words, like he felt as bad about the whole situation as Jackson did. The two of them started walking down the driveway towards the house, Daggoo prancing in front of him. "I couldn't think of a better birthday than one spent with—" He cut himself off, chuckling nervously. "I-I'm sorry. I know that's corny."

"It is," Jackson said, and was relieved to hear Mulder laughing. He laughed, too.

They walked in silence for a few moments, their shoes stirring up dust from the driveway. The wind was blowing, stirring the long grass out in the field, and Jackson shivered, shoving his free hand in his pocket. He was trying to stay out of Mulder's mind, to not hear things he didn't want to hear, but the silence was almost unbearable, enough to make him uncomfortable, and he spoke on a sudden impulse: "Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened at the beach. W-what I said."

There was another pause after that, one that probably didn't last very long, but seemed to Jackson to last forever. He felt his face growing hot with embarrassment, and he kept his head down even as Mulder said, "You… you don't have to be sorry. If anyone should be sorry, it's—"

"I am," he said roughly, not understanding how his birth parents could still be so apologetic, so self-blaming, when he was the asshole. "I am sorry, and I at least owe you an explanation. I shouldn't have said that stuff." He balled his hand into a fist in his pocket, wanting to hit something and knowing there was nothing he could hit. He kicked a rock in the road instead. He was pissed off, and speaking without thinking, the words spilling out of his mouth. "Y-you remember those people a-at the beach house? Taking pictures? I guess they recognized you from that douchebag's web show."

Mulder laughed nervously, like he at least agreed that O'Malley was a douchebag. "Y-yeah, I remember."

Jackson sighed, kicking at another rock. He hadn't wanted to say this to them, but he didn't think he had a choice now. "I… I thought they were there for me," he said bitterly. "I thought they were with… the people who killed my parents." He felt tears welling up, his throat thickening, and he bit his tongue hard to stave them off. "Someone broke into my girlfriend's place about a month before that trip, and I thought it was because of me. And I… I didn't want what happened to my parents to happen again." He sniffled and tried to hide it, scrubbing at his face with one long sleeve. "I was going to stop coming around, to keep you guys safe," he admitted to his shoes. They'd stopped walking, and Daggoo was tugging at the leash, but he didn't know if he could move. "That was… kind of the last straw. I had to go, and I didn't want you coming after me. So I… I said that stuff to make sure you wouldn't."

There was a stunned sort of silence there. Jackson didn't look up, even as Daggoo coiled the leash around his legs, running around him eagerly. "Jackson…" Mulder finally started, his voice thick. He felt his birth father's hand on his shoulder.

"I couldn't do it, okay?" he snapped, and kicked the ground harder than he should have. "I know it wasn't the right thing to do, but I couldn't do that again. Not again. I… can't let anyone else die because of me." He sniffled again, biting down on his tongue harder. He hated crying; he was sick of it. He was regretting ever starting this.

"Jackson…" Mulder tried again, his voice faltering.

"That's why I came here after Lily was born, cause I thought something had come for you." Jackson chewed at his lip, staring hard at the top of his worn shoes. He needed to buy new ones. "But it wasn't real," he added. "The… the break-in was nothing, and so was the thing at the beach. I… I don't think it's dangerous. Anymore." He bit too hard and felt a burst of copper in his mouth that made him flinch. "But I shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry. Okay?"

"Jackson, listen to me," said Mulder, in a voice so serious it made Jackson look at him, if only out of surprise. His expression was calm, understanding. "I understand the way you're feeling," he said. "Probably better than most."

Jackson bit his lip again instinctively, right in the sore spot. "Because they took your sister, right?"

Mulder nodded, and Jackson could feel decades worth of pain tightening like a knot in his head. "But it wasn't just her," he said. "Not-not exactly. They took her because my father made my mother choose, and I guess Samantha was the one she chose. So I guess it was because of me, but only indirectly. I don't blame anyone but my father and the bastards he worked with for Samantha." His face darkened a little, like it was hard to remember. "But there's plenty more to blame myself for."

Jackson swallowed hard. "Like what?"

"They murdered my father years later. I've always believed the motivation had to do with my inability to let things go. When my mother died, I thought it was murder, too. It wasn't, but—" His voice broke, and he looked away. "But the blame falls the most with me over… what happened to your mother. And what happened to you."

Jackson didn't know what to say to that. He looked back at the ground, at Daggoo's pleading face.

"I-I don't know how many times I pushed Scully away in an attempt to keep her safe," Mulder said, his voice lilting. "T-they kept hurting her because of me. To get to me. They killed her sister, which never would've happened if she hadn't been working with me. They did… countless things. And you…" His voice broke, trembling. "You were always in danger because of me. T-that's why I left less than a week after you were born. I wanted to keep you and your mother safe, and that seemed like the only way to do it. And look what happened." His voice was full of bitterness. "They didn't stop coming. You weren't any safer because of it. And I lost you because of it. Leaving didn't do a thing except make it worse."

Jackson didn't know what to say to that. He felt like he couldn't speak at all. He was gripping the leash too hard, his knuckles whitened with the effort, his head spinning. And then he felt Mulder's hand on his shoulder again.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, or to make this worse," he continued, his voice gentler now. "God knows I want more than anyone to leave this stuff behind. I just wanted you to know that I get it. I've been there."

Jackson cleared his throat once, twice, and looked up at him. His birth father. "What made it stop?" he asked, quietly.

Mulder squeezed his shoulder before letting go. "I used to think running away was the answer," he said. "But it's not. It may work, and it may amount to nothing, but either way… you run the risk of isolating yourself."

Jackson gulped, averting his eyes once again. Mulder patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I could've pushed your mother away a long time ago, and maybe she'd be happier," he said. "Or maybe she wouldn't. It's impossible to ask yourself questions like that; you'll drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out. But I know this: as much as I regret everything your mother has gone through because of me, I can't regret staying with her. Because I wouldn't have her. And I wouldn't have your sister, or you."

Jackson swallowed again, again, and spoke unevenly. "That… that is really corny, too, Mulder," he said, and offered a wobbly smirk.

He was relieved when Mulder laughed "You're right," he said. "And Jackson… I won't tell you what to do. But I will tell you this. I promise you, you don't need to protect us. You don't need to worry about it. That's not your job, okay?"

Jackson wrapped the leash around his palm, unraveled it. He mumbled, "Okay."

Mulder smiled, reaching out and taking the leash in his own hand. "Come on back to the house," he offered. "It's chilly out here."

"Sure." Jackson followed him down the road, walking slowly like he was reluctant, even though he didn't think he was. (He was… something. He couldn't put his finger on what.) "Only because I assume there's cake," he added, and Mulder laughed again.

---

They had dinner that night, a casserole that Dana claimed was the only thing she was good at cooking. (Mulder tried to tell her that wasn't true, and she replied with, "I'm going to remind you of the time you threw out that spaghetti because you thought it was old takeout, and a hazard.") They had the cake after, accompanied by a bad rendition of Happy Birthday, because Dana apparently couldn't sing, and Jackson knew he'd inherited that from her.

It was as corny as all that shit Mulder had said down on the driveway, and it hurt a little, because it reminded Jackson of nights he'd spent with his parents. But it wasn't bad. It was one of the first things he experienced with his birth parents that didn't make him want to run.