#day six for everyone else.... this is the second thing ive posted

[and-a-side-of-pokemon]

TSME WEEK

Day 6: Memorabilia

Okay so this prompt I took fairly self-indulgently! Everytime I go on a trip or on holiday, I try to get a rubber duck from that place... so I made the trio as rubber ducks! I wish they were real so I could add them to my collection!

[ssajemilyprentiss]

You and me, always

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol but nothing else that comes to mind actually 

Summary: About a year and a half later after the whole incident at the bank, you are up for your next big challenge - marrying Emily 

Wordcount: 1,9k

A/N: And I am back! Can you believe it lmao? I know I have been talking about this forever but now I will actually start post. This was requested by my lovely friend iv @sweetprentiss​​ who wrote “feli can i pls request a continuation of hit & run where reader and emily get married and/or go to london together???” 

so here it is, sorry for taking literal ages with this but i hope you like it iv and thank you for the request <3

☽ Read Hit & Run here 

☽ My masterlist here

☽ Want to request something from me? Take a look here

You take a breath before walking to the backdoors of Rossi’s mansion, and you see how everyone is already seated in the garden - waiting for you. About a year has passed since the whole bank-thing went down, and after that you got to know Emily’s team and immediately took a liking in everyone - and they became a second family to you. About six months after you had met everyone officially you had been invited to the David Rossi and his mansion, to meet the man who had been a part of the team before his retirement and who was now hosting one of his famous pasta nights for everyone. The evening went by smoothly like any gathering with the team, but halfway through as you were sipping on your wine you almost choked on it as Emily went down on one knee and asked you to marry her. Shocked and crying, you said yes, everyone toasted with champagne and congratulated you. And Penelope started planning the wedding the same night - wanting to be the best help possible for you. 

And here you are now, six months later about to walk down the aisle on your wedding day.  Taking a deep breath and wipe your hands on your dress, trying to calm your nerves. 

“How are you feeling?” you hear a voice behind you, and turn around and see Hotch behind you, smiling. 

“Honestly?” you chuckle “I am so nervous, it feels like my heart will beat out of my chest any minute” 

“Everything will go great” he reassures before linking his arm with yours, taking his place next to you just as you’re about to walk out in the garden. 

“Just don’t let me fall” 

“Never” 

The doors of the house open and you are met with the most beautiful sigh. In the trees there are fairy lights lighting up the whole garden, and lanterns have been placed out forming a path to the “altar”. When you look up from the ground your eyes meet Emily’s, and your heart almost stops beating at the sight of her. The lanterns leading up to her have formed a circle around the altar, her and Spencer (who’s officiating) and the light fall perfectly on her, and she looks like an angel standing there. She smiles at you and you smile back, and you see how she wipes the corner of her eye quickly and exhaling. The black suit she’s chosen fits her perfectly, and her red lipstick is the perfect match to it. 

You take your place next to her, and she takes your hands in hers. She smiles widely at you.

“Hi” you whisper 

“Hi beautiful” she replies and you don’t get the chance to say anything before Spencer starts speaking:

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union between Emily Prentiss and Y/N Y/L/N. We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow. The brides have prepared their own vows and Emily will start reading hers” 

Emily takes a deep breath before starting “Y/N, my soon to be wife. You are the most beautiful person I know, both inside and out. When we first met you swept me off my feet right away. We have been through hell and back, but we somehow managed to make it - and I cannot believe I am standing here together with you and all the people we love the most. I am so happy to be here with you and can’t wait to start spending the rest of my life with you. I love you so much” she says and sniffles quietly so that you barely hear it, sniffles are coming from the crowd as well and you feel how tears have started to pour down your cheeks. 

“And now for Y/N’s vows” Spencer says 

“Wow” you start trying to collect yourself “How am I supposed to top that?” you ask and everybody laughs. 

“Okay” you say and take a deep breath “Emily, my beloved. There is never a dull day with you, and I am the luckiest woman on earth that gets to wake up next to you every morning. Since you came into my life you have made things for the better and I am so grateful for that. You make me want to be the best possible version of myself, and you are such a kind and beautiful soul. You can light up a whole room when you smile, and your laughter is contagious. You are the kindest and bravest person I know and I am lucky that I get to call you my wife soon. So thank you Emily Prentiss for being you, and I love you endlessly” the tears fall once again from your eyes, and Emily’s eyes are tearing up. 

Henry and Michael walks up with the rings, handing one of them to you and one of them to Emily

“And now” Spencer starts “Emily Prentiss, do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife through life? Will you love her, protect her, be there for her no matter what and spend your days in laughter together forever?”

“I do” Emily says, putting the ring on your finger 

“And Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Emily Prentiss to be your wife through life? Will you love her, protect her, be there for her no matter what and spend your days in laughter together forever?”

“I do” you say, putting the ring on her finger 

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss the bride” Spencer says, smiling

You and Emily both go in for the first kiss as wives, and as you kiss her everyone starts cheering and clapping - and the both of you smile as you keep kissing each other. 

The rest of the night is magical as well, the dinner and cake amazing. When you dance your first dance with Emily - it’s like there’s only the two of you, dancing under the stars. 

After your dance everyone chimes in and the garden becomes a dancefloor. You dance with everyone at least once, and you feel how exhaustion is catching up with you. You let Penelope take over your dance with Derek and walk up to the bar, ordering a water and then a glass of wine. 

“Well hello there my beautiful wife” you hear Emily whisper in your ear, you turn your head towards her and smile as you see her 

“Well hello to you my beautiful wife” you reply, giving her a kiss

“Come” she says holding out her hand “let’s walk a little” 

“Okay” you say taking her hand “but first i need to take these off” you point down to your heels and take them off - tossing them to the side as you start walking.

You stop after a little bit, a fair distance from the party where you still see them but everything is silent. 

“Can you believe we pulled this off?” Emily asks

“After everything we’ve been through? Yeah I actually can” you reply, placing your head on her shoulder and Emily gently strokes your arm

The peaceful silence is suddenly broken by a voice coming from behind you “Congratulations darling” a man with a thick british accent says, startling you. You turn around and raise an eyebrow at him, who is this man who has the audacity walking into your wedding like this? And what does he mean by darling?

“Clyde” Emily sighs before turning around as well “you weren’t invited you know?” 

“Oh I know, but you’ve been declining my calls so I figured I might as well fly out to speak to you”

“Wait” you interrupt “you know this guy?” 

“Yeah, I do” she replies “Clyde Easter, my former boss at Interpol meet Y/N Prentiss, my wife” 

“Pleasure” he says, but you don’t reply - still not understanding why this Clyde has shown up at your wedding 

“May I speak to you alone Emily?” he asks

“Anything you’ve got to say to me you can say in front of my wife Clyde” Emily replies taking your hand 

“Okay then” he starts “I want you to come to London” 

“What and work for Interpol again? Not gonna happen” 

“Not work, darling. Run” 

“What?” 

“I have been assigned to another position so I want you to take over the London office after me” 

Your mouth falls open when you hear his words, not sure what to think. Emily looks at him with the same shocked expression as you and just stays silent. 

“So what do you say darling?” Clyde asks breaking the silence

“Uh” Emily starts “I don’t know what to say to be honest” she scratches the back of her head 

“How about yes?”

“If I would say yes, is there a spot open for Y/N?” Emily asks

“That’s not something that has been considered” Clyde replies

“Well you should if you want me onboard, if you don’t you’ll miss the opportunity of getting one hell of a hostage negotiator working for Interpol. So fix that before you as much as think I will say yes”

“I will see what I can do” Clyde says and disappears just as fast as he appeared

You and Emily stay quiet for a while, taking in what Clyde had just proposed. London out of all places? 

“That was..” you start

“Wierd? Unexpected?” Emily fills in, and you just nod your head “Yeah that’s Clyde” 

You fall silent again, not sure what to say. Were you ready to pack up your whole life and move to London? If you were welcome so to speak. This Clyde dude could not have picked a worse time to suggest this, you and Emily promised each other forever an hour ago - and now what? 

“What are you going to do?” you ask, finally finding your voice again

“That depends entirely on if Clyde can get you in or not”

“What?”

“Yeah” she says “If Clyde can’t get you a place in London then I’m not going, if he does then I’ll think about it” 

“Emily you can’t stay behind because of me” 

“What did we just promise each other at that altar?” she asks 

“To always, no matter what be there for each other” you reply

“Exactly, and I want to be there for you by being where you are”

“But..” you start

“No buts” Emily interrupts “I have made up my mind already, we are going to stay together wherever that might be. Here or in London, but I’m not leaving without you” she says pulling you in for a hug

“I love you” you whisper to her

“I love you to” she replies

The comfortable silence around you is interrupted by vibrations coming from Emily’s pocket. She picks up her phone and looks at the screen. After a while she starts smiling at it. 

“What?” you ask

“Told you” she says and holds up the phone 

IT’S DONE  you read on the screen, with Clyde as the sender

“Wait?” you say “He really got me in?” 

“He did” she replies smiling

“What do we do now?” you ask, smiling too

“Wanna go to London?” 

“As long as I’m with you Emily Prentiss, I’ll go anywhere” you say taking her hand 

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

Taglist: @originalvampireslut​ / @ssa-sapphic​  / @sweetprentiss​ / @alexbllake​ / @emilyprsntiss /  @sapphic-stress​ / @sleep-deprived-athlete​ / @jemilyssecretlover /  @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos​ / @cmslvtt​ / @phatcrackdad​ / @rookie-prentiss​ / @iharley​

[caramelcal]

heartbreak girl

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: ik i have requests to write (i am writing them don’t worry !) but i got super inspired when i was listening to my bbys 5sos

the luke hemmings / luke patterson comparison videos ive seen are my favourites, love it when two fandoms collide lollll

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s work for that matter) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x 

masterlist

You call me up It's like a broken record Saying that your heart hurts That you'll never get over him getting over you And you end up crying And I end up lying 'Cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do

You couldn’t stop playing the video. Ever since it was sent you from a random number, you couldn’t stop crying. The video was barely ten seconds long, but it was ten seconds that broke your heart. There your boyfriend was, clear as day, kissing a girl that wasn’t you.

It isn’t long before you heard the front door open and slam behind someone, reminding you of who you told to come over. Luke, your best friend since you guys met in the sandpit at six years old. When he accidentally pushed you in, so you kicked him in the nuts. You guys had been inseparable ever since.

Luke was your best friend, and you were his. You guys had been through everything together. When he first learned guitar, when you did gymnastics, when he joined a band, when you guys first went to high school, and now, your first heartbreak.

“y/n?” He calls from downstairs, looking around the dark room. He had learned from a young age to just come into your house without knocking, your house was his second home after all.

Of course, you do have a few female friends that you could have called but none of them knew you as well as Luke did and you knew Luke would be there with you through everything. He would understand. He would comfort you better than any girl ever could. You walked down the stairs, trying to keep your sobs in but once you caught eyes with Luke, the tears started to fall.

“Luke,” You let out, looking at the boy barely keeping yourself together.

“y/n/n, what’s wrong?” Luke questions, eyes wracking over your defeated posture before looking up at your puffy red eyes. It was clear you had been crying, but why?

“He- he-,” You cut yourself short, letting back a choked sob as you land at the bottom of the stairs, Luke walking closer to you, his face looking at you with concern, “Luke he was with another girl, he cheated-”

Mind wracking back over the video, you broke down into tears, falling into Luke’s now open arms. Suddenly, once you're in the arms of your best friend all of your walls come crashing down and you start to cry louder, letting out every emotion you felt that night. The sadness, betrayal, and overall heartbreak.

Luke holds the back of your head soothingly as you cry into his chest, playing softly with the hair on your head. By this point, he is supporting all of your weight but he doesn’t mind as he lifts you over to the couch, allowing you to continue crying in a more comfortable position than the awkward standing position you were in moments before.

Whilst Luke was sad hearing you cry, he was overcome with anger.  The fact that the scum would cheat, on you of all people. You were amazing, perfect even, so why would someone ever give away the chance of being with you? He knew he wouldn’t. Luke knew how much you loved and cared for the boy, Jack, and to see him cheat on you, he couldn’t help but be furious.

If he was being honest, the thing he wanted more than anything right now was to hook him right in the face. Punch him right where he stood, busting open his face so that no other girl would ever want to kiss him again. It’s what he deserves. Luke knew he was probably being a bit overprotective, but that didn’t matter to him, what mattered was that you were okay right now.

The last thing you needed in your state of fragility was Luke leaving you by yourself to set into the dickhead. Oh no, that could be done another time when you weren’t crying. What you truly needed right now was his comfort, so that’s what he gave you. He held you close, not even saying anything but hugging you closely, silently reminding you that he was here for you and always would be as you softly lulled into a sleep.

And when then phone call finally ends You say "Thanks for being a friend" And I'm going in circles again and again

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl

Walking down the hall, Luke’s eyes catch onto you. Even though he’s been with you all weekend, comforting you after the video you saw on Friday, just looking at you is a sad reminder of how you are doing. A frown has fallen onto your face whilst you look over at something. Following your gaze, Luke finds him, Jack, with his arm wrapped around the girl in the video.

He wants to punch that stupid smirk off Jack’s face, then they’ll see who’s truly laughing. When Luke’s eyes drift back over to you, he feels his stomach dropping slightly. The look in your gaze makes you look broken, eyes conveying a sense of vulnerability that Luke didn’t think was possible. Maybe it’s just because Luke knows you better and knows how to read you better than everyone else, but he notices all of the changes in you. He sees how your eyes lacked the sparkle they usually had, your usual smile not present, even your outfit seemed a little dull. Nonetheless, you’re still gorgeous, Luke thinks so, but you look different; less lively.

All of this heartbreak just because of a stupid boy. One stupid hard-headed jock that doesn’t know how to truly value the important things in his life. The stupid jock that didn’t know how much you were truly worth.

Luke knows he could treat you so much better if you just gave him the chance to. If you looked his way instead of Jack’s. He would hold you close and never let you go, let you know just how much you meant to him and those truly important around you. He would watch you like the only person in the world because you were the only one that mattered. 

He doesn’t even realize he was staring at you until he hears a cough sound from behind him as Reggie puts an arm over his shoulder, smirking, “You’re staring, pal.”

Luke, who’s eyes briefly glanced over towards Reggie when the bassist spoke, glanced back at you quickly, sighing lightly in relief when he realizes you didn’t notice him staring at you. He shrugs half-heartedly, not noticing the knowing look that Reggie gives him as he speaks, “I can’t, Reg. I’m not supposed to like her like this, she’s my best friend.”

“Best friend or not, I see the way you look at her, everyone does but her,” Reggie says before patting his friend on the back.

“She still likes him Reg, and I’ve known her since we were six. She’s been in so many relationships yet she fell for the stupid jock,” Luke says, shaking his head as his fists clench at his sides. He doesn’t realize but his face contorts into anger, making Reggie smirk, “she deserves so much better. She deserves someone who’s going to appreciate her. Someone who will show her how much she means to them-”

“Someone like you?” Reggie asks, making Luke glance at him with an annoyed expression, huffing. Reggie shrugs his shoulders, “Just saying man if anyone knows y/n it’s you. You just gotta be there for her and she’ll realize how much you mean to her. I mean, everyone thinks you guys are meant for each other, soon she’ll see that too.”

I bite my tongue But I wanna scream out You could be with me now But I end up telling you what you wanna hear But you're not ready And it's so frustrating He treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair

And when the phone call finally ends You say "I'll call you tomorrow at 10" And I'm stuck in the friendzone again and again

Luke is frustrated. It has been two weeks since his conversation with Reggie, and the hope Reggie had given him for pursuing a relationship was surely fizzling out. Reggie was wrong, that’s what Luke thought anyway. Not only had you not realized how much Luke was bending his back for you, going out of his way to comfort you, being there for you 24/7, you had been so utterly stupid. Jack had given you the most insincere apology known to man, and you were meeting up with him for a date.

It had been forty-seven minutes since you had left, not that Luke was counting or anything and he still hadn’t heard a word from you. No text, no call, nothing. Jack was probably taking up all of your attention with his boring jock stories or his lame jokes. He probably didn’t even compliment you when you arrived and that was practically criminal.

You had been all dressed up when you left, not that Jack would have even noticed, but Luke did. He noticed the way the outfit you wore looked perfect on you, complimenting everything about you and most importantly, how confident you felt in it. You deserved more than a boy that wouldn’t even tell you that you were pretty, Luke knew that, he just wished you did too. 

He paces around his room, feet aggressively hitting the ground. He wanted to punch something, to let out all of the anger and frustration that was itching, begging to be released. Yet, his anger was cut short when he heard his phone start to ring.

“Hello?”

“Lu?” Your voice sounded through his phone, ringing in his ears.

“Y/n?” Luke said in confusion, eyes glancing up at the time, “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date?”

You hesitate to answer, a complete silence hanging in the air until your light sniffles sound through the phone, “He didn’t show, Lu. M-My mom dropped me off, I don’t have my car. Can you come pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in 10, stay there y/n/n.”

Luke ran out of the house.

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl

I know someday it's gonna happen And you'll finally forget the day you met him Sometimes I'm so close to confession I gotta get it through your head That you belong with me instead

Luke couldn’t help but smile at you, hazel eyes meeting your e/c eyes as he strung his guitar expertly. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you to be at band practices, actually, you were at a large amount of them. It was normal for you to watch the band, well that’s what you said you were doing, but you were only really looking at Luke.

You didn’t play any musical instruments properly, but you could play a little guitar from what Luke had taught you. You remembered his teaching you, arms wrapped around you, hands guiding your fingers onto the different frets, playing different cords. He didn’t give up when you messed up, and instead, he smiles and shows you again, your back flushed against his chest.

It was no secret that you always enjoyed watching their band practice and perform, but it was different this time because they had gotten you to stop thinking about Jack. This was the first day that you didn’t feel miserable and instead felt happy in their presence. It was the first day that your gleaming smile returned, one that all members of the band had missed.

Soon enough, they were finished, congratulating each other on how well they played with large smiles.

“We’re gonna sound great at the rally!” Reggie says, flipping his bass down to his side so he didn’t have to hold it as he gave Luke a high five before turning to Alex, all of them breathing heavily with huge smiles.

“Of course, we’re still finishing with the other song, right?” Alex asked, eyes looking over at Luke for approval. He nodded his head, making you look at them in confusion.

“What other song?”

Luke glanced over to you, walking closer before kneeling beside you, guitar still in his hand, smirking “Can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.”

You groaned lightly, flinging your head back before giving the boy your puppy eyes, “Please? I won’t tell.”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head at you. Over the years, he had often been the victim to your puppy eyes, and whilst he often found them irresistible, he knew he couldn’t tell you this secret. He playfully slapped you on the arm, “Get those puppy eyes away, they’re not gonna work today.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, standing up before you stood up alongside Luke, who slung an arm over your shoulder. You guys shared a look, almost communicating through your eyes, something that you guys had gotten freakishly good at since you were kids.

“So, who wants to go grab a smoothie?” Luke said, turning his attention towards the rest of the band as you jumped on his back, ready to leave practice for smoothies.

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure Heartbreak girl

Soon enough, the rally at school came and the students surround the stage that the band was playing on. You stood at the back, proudly watching them as they played. Their most recent song blasts through the halls, exciting the students more than you had seen for the previous people on stage, even Dirty Candy. Sweat drips off of them, lights blazing down on them with intensity.

Eyes looking at Luke, you see him jump around when he sings and it brings a smile to your face. You knew this was their surprise song, the song that they were ending with because it was an unfamiliar tune, but one that Luke was pouring every feeling into as he sang the lyrics.

Suddenly, he’s no longer playing his guitar and it’s hanging on the strap by his side, mic detached from the stand and he’s making his way off of the stage and running through the crowd. You’re astonished, not only because Luke is running off stage, but that it somehow isn’t affecting his vocals.

Everyone seems to knowingly make a path for him to run through, almost as if they know where he is going to. Your eyes stay on him as he comes through the crowd, slowing down to a walk as he begins to sing again,

“I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl

Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl.”

His eyes meet yours when he is standing barely feet away from you. His hair is messed up, dripping with sweat but you barely notice. When he stops singing, he lifts the mic away from his face and holds it down away from both of your faces so that it can’t pick up what you’re saying.

People start to talk between themselves, all of them staring at you and Luke standing barely a foot apart, eyes gazing into one another but you don’t notice because you’re too busy looking at Luke. You’re speechless, heart racing faster than you thought humanly possible, with lips slightly apart before he whispers to you, “This is for you, my heartbreak girl.”

Then, his free hand makes its way up and cups your cheek, and his lips connect with yours.

[otterandterrierwrites]

One more gamble

A/N: Short RotJ fic inspired by this sweet post from @a-dorin about Leia sitting on Han's lap :)

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He had been so deep into his thoughts, his well-honed reflexes failed to notice the intruder until they were right behind him, calling his name.

‘Han?’

Of course, “intruder” was a bit of a misnomer. Han had tensed automatically in surprise, but he relaxed again almost at once when his brain recognized her voice.

‘Hey,’ he said, leaning out from the captain’s chair—his chair. It would always be his chair, no matter what happened. ‘Leia. What’re you doin’ up? Did you have a nightmare?’

‘I could ask you both of those things.’ Leia took a step into the cockpit. ‘I just woke up and got worried when you didn’t come back for a while. I thought you might be sick, or in pain.’

Han looked away, his mouth twisting without thinking. He’d been having all of those since they brought him back—nightmares, sickness, pain. It made him feel ashamed. Ironic, since he had spent the last few years trying to convince Leia there was nothing shameful about it; you’d think he would know better. But he hated it; he hated being the reason Leia woke up at night, another cause of worry for her. He hated having these reminders of what Vader had done to him. Was spending the last six months of his life as a wall fixture at Jabba’s while everyone else moved on not enough punishment?

‘I’m fine,’ he told Leia. ‘Couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t that.’

‘Do you want company?’

Han looked at her again. Since their arrival to Home One, they had been sleeping in her quarters almost every night, but tonight he had asked her if she wanted to join him here. In his ship, in his old bed, one more time. Maybe one last time. He tried to memorize the image in front of him now: Leia standing in the cockpit in an old shirt and a pair of boxers of his, the tiny pinpricks of light from the control panels dancing on the flyaway hairs around her head. Her large, dark eyes; the curve of her mouth. Her incongruously long legs, hip cocked as she waited. It could be the last time seeing her like that, too.

What happened to you, Solo? Since when are you scared of the future?

‘If you’re sure you’d rather not go back to bed. Big day tomorrow,’ he told her. Unbelievable: he had left her on the bunk, seeking solitude, less than half an hour ago, and now he was… aching to hold her again.

‘For you too, General,’ Leia answered, her lips turning up slightly at the use of his rank. Han didn’t care much about it, but she was getting a kick out of it since yesterday’s reveal. ‘We can stay up for a bit.’

Han held out a hand and, taking the hint, Leia walked up to him and sat sideways on his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his free hand hold her thigh.

‘I had some trouble sleeping, too,’ Leia confessed, letting out a sigh, her hands resting on his shoulders. ‘It’s like my head keeps running numbers, alternative strategies. Outcomes. It feels like we’re back on Yavin IV.’

‘But they’re not catchin’ us unprepared this time,’ Han reminded her. ‘We got the upper hand.’

‘I know, but… We only had one shot at Yavin. We only have one shot here. If we fail—’

It had to be a mark of how far they’d come together; Leia would have never allowed herself to admit something like that to him before, even if she had occasionally let him see her at her most vulnerable.

‘Then we just ain’t gonna fail.’

Her expression softened, mouth turning up in a slight smile. He had so often been the pessimist in their relationship—even now, he knew how the odds ran, they both knew he was bluffing. But bluffing was an essential part of winning. If she couldn’t do it this time, he was okay picking up the slack. Leia needed him to. It was like a light turned on inside his brain: that was why she was telling him this right now, not because she wanted him to agree with her, not only because she needed to get it off her chest with someone who would get it, who wouldn’t feel let down, but also because she needed to lean on him in order to keep walking.

‘I’m giving Lando the Falcon. For the battle,’ Han told her. Leia raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. ‘I won’t be using her, an’ it’s stupid to not use a ship as good as her when you have her. It’ll give us a winning edge.’

‘If it doesn’t fall apart first,’ Leia said, smirking. Han answered with a glare, although he knew Leia was just teasing him, expecting that reaction.

‘Not with all the work I’ve been puttin’ on her, sweetheart.’

Her expression turned serious again as she said, ‘That’s why you wanted to be here. Right?’

Han tipped his head back for a second, looking around at the cockpit. He let out a heavy exhale before answering, ‘Yeah.’

Leia bit her lip, looking at him in a way that made him feel oddly vulnerable.

‘I know that wasn’t an easy decision to make. So… on behalf of the Alliance, thank you. And on my behalf...’ Cupping his face, Leia leaned in and pressed her lips against his in a slow kiss.

‘Thank you,’ she repeated in a whisper, bumping his nose slightly with hers before laying her head on his shoulder.

Han pressed a kiss on her hair, then looked out of the viewport at the hangar, busy even at that late hour with preparations for the coming battle. He and the Falcon had made it that far. He’d already won her on a gamble once; he had to count on doing it a second time.

He patted Leia’s thigh.

‘C’mon, Princess, let’s go back to bed.’

[claraweems]

Post-Destroy Shakarian Mini-Fic

Her body was found in the rubble a little more than thirty-six hours after the Citadel event and it was rushed to the nearest triage tent with little more than a pulse. It wasn’t more than a couple hours before she was ushered to a more capable facility outside of London proper and then it was all hands on deck.

That was six weeks ago now; six long weeks of awaiting communications channels to open, for any news, for hope. A vid call was the best the Alliance could offer the crew of the Normandy at this point and they all knew who to give those precious few minutes of airtime to.

The doors to the commanding officer’s quarters locked and Garrus quickly took a seat in the small task chair at Shepard’s computer. A deep breath, eyes closed, and he connected the call. It was a nurse, or an aide of some sort, who confirmed his identity and carried the mobile vid device over to the hospital bed.

And there she was. Garrus’s heart raced, his mandibles clenched and his eyes searched over all he could see of Shepard. She looked pathetic in her blue hospital gown, cannula under her nose and who knows how many connections all over her body to any number of telemetry devices. Maybe even life support, ported directly into her cybernetics. Black circles under her eyes, hair thin and greasy from lack of proper bathing, but there she was.

And her eyes, her bright green eyes, they were… Blank. Just, blank.

Not lifeless, but soulless, that’s how he would describe the blank stare that Jane Shepard gave him. He saw no relief, no joy, nothing, when her eyes focussed on the screen put in front of her.

“Are you another doctor?” That alto which could be music to his auriculars was so shallow.

“I--” Garrus was interrupted by the nurse, no doubt due to the time lag. The human woman corrected her patient, ‘No, dear, this is a connection to the SSV Normandy. This is one of your shipmates.’

Shipmates, Garrus huffed in his mind.

“The Normandy?” Jane brought a hand to her lips, drawing a finger tip over them in thought. An IV or some other connection hung from the back of her hand, taped in place. She seemed in good care, if done a bit archaically. It was likely the best they could do, all things considered. “Captain Anderson’s new ship. You must be the turian envoy. Nihlus, was it?” Shepard smiled weakly. Diplomatic, even at her lowest.

His heart sank. A low hum escaped Garrus’ throat, inaudible over the call, but it washed over his body. Shock, sadness. It was hard to process what he had just heard, what Shepard-- Jane, his Jane-- had just said.

“No, no, I’m Garrus,” he spoke up after a pause, voice deflated. “Garrus Vakarian, I’m…” He watched Shepard’s eyes struggle to focus on the video. She was obviously tired, and didn’t seem particularly interested if for no reason other than fatigue. “I’m, yeah, just checking on you. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The Commander looked toward the nurse, every third or fourth word slurring, “I’ve got such a damn headache. Everyone keeps telling me my injuries happened on the Citadel, something heroic. I’ve never even been to the damn Citadel.” Her attention went back to Garrus, “Last thing I remember I was boarding a shuttle to rendezvous with Anderson, and now...” She weakly gestured at the room.

The turian nodded solemnly, eyes diverting from the screen to nothing in particular on Shepard’s desk. He listened to her slow speech, and it was painful. So painful. This was … this was hardly Shepard. A severe brain injury was the obvious culprit of this behavior and it absolutely was not a surprise considering events. To witness memory loss like this was shocking. It was one thing to expect it somewhere in the back of his mind, but it knocked the wind out of Garrus’s sales to see it first hand. Was it a ‘physical’ erasure caused by the injury? Was it post-traumatically induced?

Did he really want to know, or care? It was reality, plain and simple.

All that mattered right then was that he couldn’t find his words. The silence likely lasted little more than a handful of seconds, the hospital machines beeping away to fill the voice, but finally Shepard spoke up once more. “I guess I should ask… if I was injured this bad, how is everyone else? Where is the Captain?”

“Shepard…” Garrus instinctively responded, voice hushed. His tone was on the cusp of an incredulous laugh; this was … unbearable.

“That bad, huh?” The Commander tried to smirk, but yawned.

“Yeah,” he nodded in response, “It’s a long story and I don’t have much time on the vid call to really tell it. Shepard, I should... go. Give the crew an update on you.” He felt like a coward.

“Tell them not to kick too much ass without me. Obviously the Normandy’s maiden flight went off without a hitch if she’s got a crew waiting for me, uh…” She raised an eyebrow, as if searching for the word. Name, more like. “Soldier.”

“Garrus.”

“Garrus. Right.”

He ended the call and stood within the same motion. His name echoed back to him so colorlessly… it hurt. He shuddered as he paced across the room, the quarters he had commandeered after the crash-landing. No one protested, of course. They were family. They understood.

Now their matriarch was… Well, Garrus didn’t even know how to describe the short conversation, how to tell the crew that they were nothing more than acquaintances in her mind. Hell, she had no recollection of him… there was no way she was going to remember any of the non-Alliance crew.

Garrus sat on the edge, on Jane’s side, of the squat human bed. He had brought in a few ergonomic cushions for himself, but they were splayed out across the far side, spilling onto the floor. Three fingers rubbed across his face and over his cranial blades, eyes distant and glassy. He looked around the room, trying to compose himself; the squat couch and chairs, the emptied fish tank, the stack of cups and saucers left over from the past few days.

She was alive, she was safe, but…

His whole body shuddered once more, blue eyes closing and a hand covering his face. Subharmonics rumbled low, from head to toe, a collection of sounds at pitches and in tones that melded together in a mournful song. His emotions spilled over, out of his control, and he sobbed. It would have been absolutely useless, probably more harm than good, to tell her who she really was to him. Damnit. He wanted to tell her he loved her, he wanted to remind her of … of everything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

A jerking, choking sob; Garrus had never been wracked with such agonizing grief before. With his mother there was closure through longanimity. With his crew on Omega there was closure through revenge. With watching Palaven burn there was closure through Shepard.

This was a fate worse than her death.

[pollyna]

Fem!verse: ace!Mickirk+ Enterprise crew edition.

• Jim full name is James Tiberia Kirk. James because George said so before he died and Tiberia because people seriously have sense of humor. She hates when people calls her with her full name and loves Jim, because Jim fits her better than anything. The only person who can call her James is Leo;

• Leo goes for Leonora Horatia Mccoy, because every single Mccoy needs to have Horatio before the surname. It's the law. Everyone calls her Leo or Nora but in the middle of a shuttle ride Jim Kirk decided she was going to be Bones and that's that;

• Leo's the best dancer of all Georgia and she ends breaking everyone heart between the steps. She met Jocelyn on the dance floor and they are sixteen, marries at 20, becomes parents at 23, divorced by 26. They kiss one last time when they are 24 and half and then they fight, fight, fight, while Leo drowns herself into work and Jocelyn in Clay's bed;

• Jim was born in space but lives all her life in Iowa with Frank and Sam, util Sam leaves them when she's 11 and he's 16. Tarsus IV is just a year later;

• Leo is 6'5 ft tall where Jim is 6' (5'9 Jim, don't bullshit yoursel). Leo hates her hair longer than ten centimeter and loves all the kind of undercuts- she actually learned to cut them herself during med school because if she didn't have time to sleep she surely didn't have time to go to the hairdressers-, where Jim always have them long and longer, forgetting her hair tie in every single room of the Academy and then on the ship, on planets and one memorable time even in a volcano;

• when they met Bones was 26, recently divorced and it was almost six month since the last time she saw her baby girl, while Jim was 22 and just met the floor of a bar;

• Leo loves Joanna. She loves her little girl and would do anything for her. But she didn't really want her at the beginning, she did it mostly because Jocelyn wanted to a baby and her mom always seemed sad when she tought about her not having a children;

• Leo comes out in the middle of a study session because a guy from her xenomed course invited her for dinner and dessert and honest to God with people are always thinking about sex. Jim looks at her for a long moment before asking for something more (first year);

• Jim comes out while she is drunk because how could she not. She says, holding her hand out, as if she was counting to not forget how many words she has to pronounce: I'm non binary, biromantic and asexual. What's your prognosis doctor? Leo orders another round of drinks and sleeps in Jim bed, holding her tight against her chest that night. The next morning she asks Jim what pronouns prefers. (she/they; secone year);

• they start dating almost at the end of their third year, after the most intense friendship both of them ever had. It's not like one of them says to the other we're together, they just kiss once before class and then the same night before going to bed and every other day from that moment on. Theoretically they have two different dorm with different roommates but they sleep in the same single bed for months. Sometimes in Leo's dormitory, sometime in Jim's;

• Leo finishes her (second) PhD during the second years and Jim is awestruck with how clever her best friend is and she gets a thank you at the end of the thesis because I wouldn't even got very far without you. It's almost a love confession;

[• Pike always looks out for them and a part of him looks at Jim and see George, almost twenty years before. He rembers how they used to spend hours in the simulator because George wanted to teach him how to fly every single ship he could find and Christopher used to follow him around. He wasn't in love with him but he could be easily been the case if it wasn't for Winona. (bi!Christopher Pike; one-side!Chris/George (was it really one-side?); George/Winona; dadmiral)];

• they end up on the Enterprise because of Nero and now she is Captain James Tiberia Kirk and her girlfriend is the CMO of a boat she hates half of the time, but she couldn't be happy anywhere else;

• between Leo and Spock is not love at the first sight and not even at the second, or a thousand, sight. It's not love at all but their frenemies relationship is the most awsome thing in her life after Joanna&Jim. Spock needs a hand but he doesn't know how to ask for it and then Geoffrey M'Benga arrives with all their knowledge on Vulcans and stuff just falls in the right place. He tells her he's trans and wants to transition but Vulcan is still not the most open place about it so he would like to be helped. Leo can tell him no;

[• Geoffrey M'Benga is 32 years old, non-binary and use they/them as pronouns. Everyone calls them GF. People really freaks out when they have to meet them because they never know who are going to meet. With him it comes Christine Chapel, the queen of lesbians and with her all the best of Starfleet Medical are together];

• Spock and Nyota become a couple when Jim/Leo are fighting and then a trouple when Gaila gets a post on the Enterprise. Leo is still angry and honestly she could care less of everyone and their lives (Nyota is bi, Gaila aromantic, Spock kisses them with his fingers and with his mouth and it's one of the best thing of the day);

• they are fighting because Jim is reackless and Leo would like to not see her in the infermery every other week and, on the last planet they visit, the prime minister flirted with her and Jim almost let herself be kissed. She doesn't know with whom begin more pissed, herself for believing they could last or herself, again, for believing they could fail so easly;

• they both miss Chehkov's freak out on the bridge because he looks at Hikaru and oh yeah, but then he looks at Leo and he got the crush for her but then there's the alien with three genders and the one after that that as none. They all make Chehkov hot hot hot. And he is 18 and wants answers and to try everything at least once. Okay, maybe it's better if he doesn't say a word about the crush he has for Dr. McCoy but for the rest;

• it takes two weeks to find the way to solve this particular fight because talking is so difficult when you never had to.

Probably will be more.

[newtedison]

my thoughts on the crank palace

i touched about this a bit on twitter (@newtedison_) but i figured i would Try and touch on my points more here (spoilers obv) again, its sort of lengthy

1. im gonna start with talking about the ending because i need to get it out of the way. either i havent read the books in a while and i forgot some canon (which could very well be true, i literally forgot that Bliss was a thing) or this ending makes no sense and is (somehow) setting up for a tdc sequel? so first off, newt was shot in the Head with a Bullet and somehow didnt immediately die? i know that that can happen in real life but it just seems so unlikely that not only would he not die, but he would survive long enough for someone from WCKD to transport him back to their labs and try to revive him. and who the fuck was he talking to? did thomas get newt’s journal at some point and i just dont remember? like i said, either im forgetting stuff or this ending doesnt make sense and is setting up a sequel which...i’ll get to later

2. why was this written? like, what was the point? i understand that this wasnt going to be all sunshine and rainbows but i feel like i was reading torture porn. like, literally all that happens is newt gets tortured (which is described in detail) by WCKD soldiers, has bouts of insane-fueled rage where he KILLS MULTIPLE PEOPLE, and then he dies. ??? what did this contribute to the canon? what was this trying to accomplish? truthfully, i never really wanted a newt-POV...well, anything except for maybe those little nuggets he wrote some time ago. but even if i HAD wanted a newt-POV novella, this is not what i would have wanted. he KNOWS that newt is almost universally the most loved character in this franchise. you can tell because he constantly uses him as a way to get fans in his good graces again. so why on earth would he take that character that so many people love and write a novella where its torture porn and a descent into madness before death? i am not interested in that At All. i’ve read fics (and even written a drabble) where newt is a Crank, and those were more respectful and easier to read than tcp. the parts where newt is having bouts of the Flare were literally exhausting to read; it was described in such vivid and torturous detail that it made me sick reading it. and it didnt help that newt is a character i care a lot about. i didn’t need to know what becoming a Crank felt like. the way it was described in the other books (and even the movies) told me everything i needed to know. the way thomas and everyone found newt at the crank palace in tdc and hes described as obviously not well, but not knowing what exactly happened to him...thats good enough on its own. the mystery of what exactly newt had to endure is part of what gives his journey more emotional depth. not everything needs to be written out and explained. not every gap needs to be filled in. 

3. me saying “the characterization felt off” is going to make some people roll their eyes because ‘duh, sami, the characterization will be off because he’s going insane’ to which i say...exactly. we weren’t really reading a newt-POV novella, were we? even if he isn’t past the Gone in the beginning, hes clearly not the same person we knew him as. the whole novella felt like an uncanny valley situation; i knew i was supposed to be reading about newt, but it felt like i was reading about someone else who looked like him. and that is part of what made this such a disconnect and made me lose interest at parts. not only that, but the world building and lore is inconsistent. newt makes a comment about how it used to rain in the glade, and apparently (as ive been told) that is simply not true. keisha having somehow working cell phone that magically connects her to her family also doesnt make sense. how would they have each others’ numbers? what are the odds that they BOTH found working cell phones in an apocalypse? i get that its a novella but you cant just throw something that crazy in there as a plot convenience. actually work on your plot and world building in a cohesive way, please. and another thing that doesnt make sense...

4. ...is newt finding out that sonya is his sister. if there was anything i would have wanted from a newt-pov novella, it would have been this. him finding out that not only is sonya his sister, but he already knows her post-WCKD. something that would have made this novella actually captivating, contributing something worthwhile to the canon that i would actually want to read, is if newt found out while in the crank palace that sonya was his sister; the Flare would remove that part of the Slice in his brain, and he would realize it was her. then, knowing that he couldnt go past the Gone before seeing her, he would try to find a way to get back to her. he could learn this after thomas and everyone originally see him, so it could match up with the canon. and then, by the time 250 comes along, hes lost all hope of that actually happening, and lashes out to thomas in a fit of rage. the journey of him trying to find his ACTUAL sister would have meant more to me than the story of keisha and dante. trust me, i love a found family trope as much as the next girl. but this series is FULL of the found family trope. it pretty much is the backbone of the franchise. so to see a blood family dynamic would have been a refreshing change of pace that i actually would have been interested in reading. also, the way that newt DOES find out about sonya is...underwhelming. he just randomly says “you remind me of my sister, sonya” to keisha in the WCKD truck. first of all, sonya is not the name you would actually know her by. you would know her by her birth name (which is lizzy? elizabeth?). second, why does he act like he didnt already meet her in the series? when the WCKD doctor tells him sonya is his sister and is alive, hes so surprised. wouldn’t he have known that already? why is there not more emphasis on the fact he already met her? that would have been a really interesting dynamic to explore, and im sad they didnt

5. the pacing and dialogue of tcp is so dragged out. i remember specifically there was a section where newt goes to talk to keisha after she starts abandoning dante, and i swear to god there was a page and a half of text before anything ACTUALLY happened or anyone ACTUALLY said anything. dashner described a launcher at one point as “the energy dependent electric firing projectile device.” that’s SIX words to describe a stun gun. a fucking stun gun! we know what it is! why did you have to use six words??? it just felt like everything was dragged and stretched to the longest it could possibly be and it added to the exhaustion i felt while reading it

6. okay i cant end it without talking about newtmas. its very obvious by now that newtmas is a VERY large part of this fanbase. its clearly the most popular ship and what keeps a lot of people interested in this series. even the marketing team for the MOVIES used newtmas as a advertising tactic (i.e.; using thomas and newt standing face to face as a thumbnail for the trailer, emphasizing newtmas based questions in interviews, even making a fucking facebook memories video for them. yes that last one is real). not only does dashner use newt as a way to lure fans in; he also uses newtmas. the parts that were sprinkled into this were so obvious that it didnt feel authentic. i cant speak for the original trilogy; i dont know the culture around ships back then, and i dont know how much it influenced his writing at the time. but the scenes in those books felt more genuine than tcp. by genuine i mean; he wrote scenes without a relationship in mind, but the chemistry had noticeable subtext that, while unintentional, was largely agreed upon by the larger audience. the parts of newtmas he added into tcp felt artificial and forced, likely as a way for people to take snippets of and use as a free marketing tool for him. one example you might have already seen; “he had already gotten used to his post-thomas, post-WCKD life.” the fact that dashner SPECIFICALLY used the phrase “post-thomas” rather than “post-his friends” or something similar shows that he is using newtmas as a hook on purpose. not only that, but to make newt’s last thoughts as he died “tommy. tommy will understand...” is...wow. first of all, i never wanted to know what newt’s dying thoughts were, but thanks, i guess? and second, when we all initially thought newt died underneath thomas with a gun to his head, i was pretty much inferred that newts last thoughts would probably be about thomas; they would sort of have to be, given the circumstances. so adding that in gives me the same feeling that “i’m coming for you, newt” at the end of the fever code gave me. not as offensive, but written very much on purpose. and the ending is implying that there will somehow be a sequel where thomas gets newt’s journal from...someone. at this point, i can only think that this sequel will retroactively make newtmas canon somehow. now that newt has been confirmed as gay, it could happen. which brings me to my last point...

7. hearing dashner confirm newt is gay was already mind-boggling before. now that i’ve read the crank palace...im angry. im very angry. i think its safe to say that newt is the character that suffers the most in this series. you can argue with me but hes definitely high on the list, if not #1. so; you take this character. you give him a horribly sad arc in the original trilogy, then decide to expand upon it and tell us, your largely QUEER fanbase, exactly how painful and torturous his last days were, in detail. and then you tell us he’s gay. something that is never mentioned in the canon, only in an offhanded reply to a tweet of someone calling you out. on a base level, i can understand why people would be happy. representation (i guess), seeing themselves in the character, having their headcanons be confirmed. great. but what i see is you telling your largely queer fanbase “hey, you see the only confirmed gay character? im going to literally write torture porn about him before killing him off and offer it to you like im providing a service to your community.” how fucked up is that? “hey, kids, if youre gay, you WILL be violently tortured and become violent and a danger to the ones you love. then you will die and your love will never be reciprocated.” what a message! and if he DOES end up retroactively making newtmas “canon” in some weird sequel...i will start foaming at the mouth. THIS is an example of how not all queer representation is good or genuine.

i’ve definitely forgotten some points but this is long enough already. let me know if you agree or if theres anything else you want to add! im interested in what you guys think

(8. I JUST REMEMBERED!!! if WCKD needed to study newt so bad bc sonya is his sister and is immune while he isnt, why did they let him run around the crank palace in the first place??? you cant test his vitals or anything you’re literally just watching him. what is the point????)

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Nervous Breakdown // Jay Halstead x Reader

Photo by @karihighman​

Description: Jay is there when you start to break down.

Words: 1539

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jay x Reader

A/N: So, this I wrote for me. The schedule Reader talks about is my actual schedule. The sign offs are the things I actually need. This was me last night, except I didn’t have someone like Jay to talk me down from my nervous break down, I just had it and then had to be at my clinical this morning (which I’m still at btw lol). But yeah. Hope you enjoy. And if my posting is sporadic in the next month or so, this is why. 

“Come to bed,” Jay told you softly, leaning on the doorframe of your bedroom with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with papers spread across the floor, couch, and coffee table. 

Your movements were frantic as you tried to organize them all, trying to figure out the best system to keep everything together. Every section was chronologically ordered for the online documentation, paper clips holding each stack together. Then, there were the colored sheets that had even more important signatures on them. You had to make sure everything was in order as class was drawing to an end. 

“I’ll sleep when I’m done, Jay,” you snapped at him before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“I know.” He walked over, stepping around the stacks before sitting directly behind you in the only place clear of paper. “Come here.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. Grounding you as your mind went a mile a minute. You also couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your calendar, flipping it open to this month.

“What’s the schedule look like?” His chin rested on your shoulder as he looked at the planner. 

“I have to help with the EMT class Saturday from seven to three. Then I start my shift at work at eight tomorrow night. Then, work Sunday night. So I’m going to try and catch up on some sleep on Sunday. I have my exam in Med Emergencies on Monday. Then, I have an ambulance clinical AM shift at seven. Same on Wednesday. A quiz in Med Emergencies on Thursday. Then, I work Thursday night. Off at eight on Friday morning, but I picked up a shift from two to ten Friday day. Then, ambulance clinical on Saturday AM shift. 

Same with that next Sunday. A quiz in Med Emergencies on the seventeenth. Then work that night. Work the night of the eighteenth, but I’m off at four in the morning instead of my usual eight. Mainly because I have an OR clinical on the nineteenth from seven to three. But then I work that night, off at five on the twentieth because I have an exam in Med Emergencies that day. Ambulance clinical AM shift on the twenty-first. Twenty-second, I have an ER shift from seven to three, then I work that night. Work Sunday night, so I’m going to try to catch up on sleep that day. 

Twenty-fourth I have another exam in Med Emergencies. Ambulance AM shift on the twenty-fifth and sixth. Then, we review for our Final in Med Emergencies, but I work that night. I’ll get off at six to get to my ambulance clinical on the twenty-eight at seven. I work that night, but off at five to get to my Maternal-Fetal Truck shift by eight. 

On the thirtieth, I have an ER shift from three to eleven. The thirty-first, I have my final in Med Emergencies, and then work that night. Off the day of the first, but I work that night. Then, an ER shift at three on the second. Then, I work that night, but I’m going to try to switch shifts just because my ER shift won’t finish until eleven. The third, we have our student evals. The fourth, I’m helping the junior class with their Ops day, and then I have an ambulance clinical that night. Off the fifth, but work that night. Off the sixth, but work that night. Seventh is labor day, so completely free. ER shift on the eighth at three. Then, on the ninth, OR shift at seven.

“After that, I don’t know because we haven’t signed up for our capstone. Which all of this,” you said, motioning to the mess of papers, “is me getting everything in order to make sure I have everything done and what I still need. Because we can’t start capstone until all of our skills check offs are done, and we’ve hit all of our demographics.”

“What do you have left to do for your skills?” That question got you to sigh, putting the planner down and grabbing a notebook. You had to push your glasses back up on your face as you looked down at your messy handwriting. 

“Five peer reviews for pediatric intubations. Two peer reviews for needle cricothyrotomy. Three peer and two instructor reviews for trauma assessment. Five peer reviews for trauma intubations. Two instructor reviews for joint splinting -- which I’m already an EMT, why the Hell do I have to sign off on the BLS stuff again? Same with long-bone. I need one peer review and two instructor for traction splint. Again, BLS bullshit. Seven peer reviews for medical and cardiac scenarios. Eleven peer reviews for IV starts, and one instructor. One instructor for IV piggyback. Five peer reviews for IO. Oh, and another instructor. Three peer for IM injection. Three peer for synchronized cardioversion. One peer for defibrillation. Three peer transcutaneous pacing. Four peer reviews and one instructor for adult team lead scenarios. Five peer reviews and one instructor for pediatric team lead scenarios. Eleven peer reviews for being a team member. Three peer reviews for being a team leader for geriatric scenarios. Six peer and one instructor reviews for adult physical assessments. And finally. Six peer and one instructor review for pediatric assessment,” you read off, letting the paper fall to the ground. 

He held you a little tighter. You felt bad. With all the stress you’d been under for the past month, and with how crazy his job was, the two of you hadn’t gotten to spend a lot of time together. And the next month was going to be even crazier. 

“When are you supposed to start your capstone?” He pressed a kiss to your neck, your eyes fluttering closed in response. 

“They want us to start September Ninth, but I’m going to be the last one who gets to sign up because I’m so far behind! Everyone is going to pick the cool preceptors, and I’m going to get stuck with the ones nobody else wants,” you vented before huffing in frustration. 

It was indeed very frustrating, stressful, and downright annoying that you were so far behind compared to everyone else. That’s what happens when you have to be off for six weeks because you tore your knee. Now, it was a constant game of catch-up. 

“Just breathe when I breathe,” Jay instructed in that calming voice, following his breathing pattern. It got your heart rate down as tears came to your eyes, despite your internal protests. You were on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Maybe you should email your instructor?” he suggested when you had your breathing under control on your own.

“And have her take me off all my clinicals and reschedule everything? No. No fucking way. I can’t just email her and schedule my nervous breakdown, Jay. She was very clear in first semester that if we took on too much and couldn’t handle it, she’d take us off our clinicals and completely reschedule everything. I can’t do that, Jay. I can’t because then I’ll be even further behind.” You were talking a mile a minute, Jay taking a deep breath behind you. You took the hint and matched your breathing again. 

“Okay, then don’t email her. But, I want you to come to bed right now. It’s two in the morning. You have an ambulance clinical in five hours. You need your sleep. All of this will be waiting for you when you come home tonight,” he insisted. You didn’t want to, but you knew he was right. 

The two of you stood up, walking into the bedroom. You couldn’t help it as you collapsed on the bed with a groan, much more comfortable than the hard floor in the living room. He wasted no time in joining you, pulling you close again. This time, you were able to see his face at least, tracing his features gently with soft fingertips. You missed him. 

“How about we do something Labor Day? Just you and me to destress a bit?” you asked, Jay nodding in agreement before lips met gently. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said with a soft chuckle, kissing you again. “But you’re almost done. This is the worst of it. After your final, you’re pretty much done with lecture. Capstone is your last hoorah. Then, your tests and you’ll finally be a paramedic after over a year. Doing this through a pandemic. Through all your family crap. I’m proud of you.”

“You really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you joked, resting your head on his chest.

It was the exact thing you needed to hear. Jay always knew what to say. You were so close to being done. Then, you’d be in your dream career. All the hard work was going to be worth it. The thousands of hours in clinicals, the hundreds of hours in class. The countless sleepless nights and caffeine filled days. Yes. It would be all worth it. Just a couple more months to go. And Jay was by your side.

[queenmylovely]

Wedding Party I

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. Lucy and Rami’s wedding is coming up and you and Ben are both part of the wedding party, with one catch. 

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cussing, fluff, some roasting of reader 

A/N: This is the third and final part of my 500 follower celebration!! Though you might be able to guess that this will have more than one part, so stay tuned! Thank you so much again to everyone who follows me, including the people that have since I hit 500, cause it’s been a minute, whoops. I’m hoping to post updates to this weekly until it’s done. (Side note, obviously not shaming reader and neither are any of her friends, including Lucy, she just doesn’t want any drama.) Any feedback is super appreciated but especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!

Part II, Part III, Part IV, Mini i, Mini ii, Masterlist

(hot hot hot gif by @mrbenhardys​)

💖💖💖

Over the past couple years, you had found yourself attending no fewer than three weddings a year, and last year broke the record with six. It was always a bit of a to do but you enjoyed it nonetheless, happy to see your friends happy and to go to a party. You hadn’t always been so happy to go; originally you were a little cynical and bitter about being single while all of your school and university friends got married. But then, at the second wedding you had been to, you hooked up with the best man and your opinion had been changed. It was easy to be happy for the happy couple when you were having hot sex with friends of friends with no chance for strings or feelings.

As such, you had grown a bit of a reputation among your friends that had borne witness to this behavior. A few teased you about it, a couple were silent, and a few more cheered you on, but none tried to stop you. This was mainly because none of them had seen how it would negatively impact them. And it wasn’t like it was terrible, but on more than one occasion you and some other guest had been walked in on, sometimes only a heated making out, but sometimes in the act. You had apologized and even tried to make it till after the reception, but it was hard sometimes with all the free booze and romantic songs and pretty lights making you hornier than ever.

Maybe there had been some awkward happenings when it was a destination wedding and the wedding party had events the next day. While you were happy with the one and done, some of the men you had hooked up with would be miffed when you kicked them out after the deed and didn’t seem so interested the next morning. After a couple uncomfortable brunches where everyone could feel the tension in the air (and not the good kind), you had decided to stick with the guys that were just a bit douchey and wouldn’t be so pained at a one night stand. Not that they didn’t sometimes get butthurt when you dropped ‘em too.

But to you, that was the beauty of the thing: hot sex for one night and one night only. You and whoever else you were with would exist in a made-up wedding world for the ceremony, reception, a couple hours of fucking, and then it would all be over and you could go back to your real world without any consequences. Okay, so only a couple consequences.

You thought that you would be able to keep this up indefinitely; you had a ton of friends in relationships who would have plenty of eligible bachelors at their weddings. That is, until your best friend, Lucy, got engaged to Rami. When she had invited you over for brunch just the two of you and had told you the news, you were enthralled for her. Rami was an amazing guy and you had never seen Lucy as happy as when she was with him. And then you were enthralled for yourself when you thought about all Rami’s actor friends that would undoubtedly be there. You had already met a couple, Joe and Gwilym, and if they were any sign of what level of men would be there, you couldn’t wait.

Your daydreams all came crashing down around you when Lucy abruptly said, “You’re not allowed to fuck anyone at my wedding.”

The two of you had just separated from your happy hug so she put her hands on your shoulders to make sure you looked at her and were paying attention.

“I-I-- What?” you stumbled out, brought from your reverie that was running through a list of A-list celebrity names that might be at the wedding. You tried to look innocent but the fiery look in Lucy’s eyes stopped you. So instead you whined, “Why?”

Lucy just rolled her eyes, though fondly, and replied, “Sit down.”

The two of you sat down at the wonderful brunch she (probably with help from Rami who was quite the home cook) had made and plated a couple items, poured mimosas, and you took your first bite before she continued.

“Obviously, Rami and I are very private people. We don’t like our relationship broadcasted to the public, and Rami feels that way about most of his life in general. So we’ve decided to have a really small wedding. We want it to be intimate and to share our love with each person that attends. We don’t feel like we have to prove anything or live up to any crazy standard and invite hundreds of people, half of whom we’ve never even spoken to,” Lucy explained, and throughout her little speech you felt yourself get a little emotional because you could tell how truly and deeply she and Rami loved each other. Lucy’s voice cracked a little and you reached your hand over to hers to give it a gentle squeeze.

Lucy took a sip of her drink and then said with a more pointed tone, “So because we are close friends or family with every single person that will be there, we don’t want anybody… fraternizing with anybody else and causing… awkward circumstances for us or any of the guests.”

“‘We,’ Lucy? Rami told you he didn’t want me fucking anyone?” you asked sarcastically.

“Well, when I say we I mean me, mainly. But Rami does want a drama-free wedding, as do I,” Lucy conceded. As she finished her sentence, Rami walked in having returned from what looked like the gym.

“What about me? Hi Y/N, hi sweet,” Rami said, dropping a kiss to your cheek briefly and then giving Lucy a more substantial one on the lips.

“Oh we were just talking about the wedding, you know,” Lucy said and Rami grinned.

“Did you ask her?” he inquired.

“Ask me what?”

“Well you know that Emma and I have had a pact to have each other as our maids of honour since we were like two and three,” she started and you nodded, knowing the story because she and her sister had relayed it many times over the years you had known them. “But will you do me the honour of being one of my bridesmaids?” A big smile took over your face and you jumped up to hug her, practically yelling “yes!” into her ear. Then you brought Rami into the hug as well, all of you laughing and smiling.

When that was done, you all sat back down, Rami pulling up a chair and grabbing a plate. Then you turned to him and said, “So Rami, Luce was just about to tell me about all of your friends that are going to be there.”

You were just teasing, but as you saw Lucy’s miffed face, you couldn’t help yourself. “You know, I really liked meeting Joe and Gwilym, it’d be nice to see them again. And can’t forget about that Ben who you all talk so much about. ‘Haven’t met him yet, but I’m sure the wedding will fix that.”

So that Lucy couldn’t see, you winked at Rami to make sure he knew you were joking, mostly.

Before you could say another word, Lucy burst out, “No, do not fuck anyone. Okay? Do. Not. Fuck. Anyone. Especially Ben.”

Your ears perked up at that, “Ben? Why especially Ben?”

“Uhhhhhhh,” Lucy hesitated for a second, a look of panic taking over her face.

“Because you guys will be walking together and you’ll spend the most time together,” Rami saved her.

“Yeah, it would mess up the whole party’s dynamic. Just don’t okay?” Lucy asked with a pleading look in her eyes to make you feel guilty.

“Okay, geez, I won’t. You guys act like I’m some floozy who can’t keep it in her pants,” you half-pouted for a second, but then they both gave you a look. “Whatever, I won’t, I won’t!”

_

Unbeknownst to you, the reason they were so hell-bent on keeping your attention off Ben specifically was not because he was the groomsman to your bridesmaid (although that would’ve been reason enough). It was actually because Ben had the exact same reputation amongst his friends as you did yours.

After he had gotten out of a more serious relationship a couple years ago, he hadn’t settled down again. With plenty of friends getting married, his was the same fruitful situation as yours, and he used it to his benefit. The wedding scene was a lot more reliable than just hitting up any old bar or pub.

Ben had also gotten the no fucking speech, but from Rami when he asked him to be a groomsman. He had agreed to the rule with a begrudging nod. Ben was easier to convince since he was mutual friends with a lot of Lucy and Rami’s friends and would know most everyone at the wedding.

While you and Lucy had been best friends for years, you weren’t an actress and didn’t already know most of her actor friends. Because of Lucy’s filming schedules and locations, you relied on a lot of facetime to keep up with each other. You had only met Joe because you had tagged along on a Venice trip with Lucy and Rami. Gwilym you had got to know a bit more because whenever Lucy and Rami were in town for more than a week they liked to have dinner parties or game nights and both of you were frequently in attendance. Ben’s filming schedule or other priorities had always prevented him from joining in, at least for times you had gone.

Of course you had seen pictures of Ben on everyone’s instagram, and maybe had done some stalking of your own. Not to mention you watched Bohemian Rhapsody, obviously, and had caught a couple of other things he had been in just by happenstance. He seemed like a pretty good actor and a pretty great guy from what you could tell. Plus, you trusted the judgement of your friends about his character.

_____

Lucy and Rami weren’t ones to do the more extravagant things that some engaged couples did. Instead of a big engagement party, they decided to have a dinner party with just their families and the wedding party.

The party started at 6:30pm, so you got there… at 6:50pm. You hadn’t meant to be late but you couldn’t decide between two dresses, worrying that the one you wanted to wear would be too dressy. You ended up going for it anyway, it was black with an opaque sweetheart neckline and a mesh and lace section that made it sleeveless and so it wasn’t actually strapless. It wasn’t bodycon but it hugged your curves nicely and had gold shimmery thread as part of the lace that caught the light. You had also done your makeup and hair quickly but thought that the overall effect was nice.

As you arrived at their door, you tried the handle, hoping it was open so you could slip in quietly, but no dice. So you knocked twice and stepped back to wait. No answer came so you knocked again louder and waited again. Just as you were about to raise your hand again, the door swung open and you saw Joe there.

He smiled when he recognized you; the two of you had become quick friends during those couple days in Venice.

But before he could say anything, you glanced past him and asked, “Dinner hasn’t started, right? I’m not that late?”

Joe laughed and shook his head, “No, everyone’s still getting drinks and stuff. You’re only like five minutes behind the last person to arrive. Nice to see you by the way.”

You laughed sheepishly and leaned in for the hug he offered, “Nice to see you too, Joe. How’s everything?”

The two of you headed further into the apartment as he told you, “Pretty good. I'm actually starting filming just outside London so I’ll be over here basically until right after the wedding. No trips back and forth for me.”

“That’s great! And that means you’ll be ‘round for game nights. I’ll have to warn you that Gwilym and I make a great team.”

Joe scoffed at that, “Gwil and I are a great team, thank you very much.”

“Funny, he hasn’t mentioned anything to me about your skills,” you shot back with a smirk.

“Guess we’ll just have to ask him.”

“Guess we will.”

Gwilym ended up being the first person the two of you saw as you entered the living room. He saw you walk in and headed over quickly with a big smile on his face.

“Ah Y/N, glad you made it!” he said, leaning down for a peck on the cheek and a quick hug.

“Yep, and only 20 fashionable minutes late,” you replied and the three of you laughed.

“Alright, alright, introductions are over. We have something to settle with you Gwil,” Joe said seriously.

“Oh?” Gwil asked, a little confused.

“That’s right. Joe and I wanted to know which one of us is the best game night partner,” you asked, pointing an accusatory finger as Joe squinted his eyes at him.

Gwil broke out in laughter, which only seemed slightly nervous. “Well you see… It’s like comparing apples and oranges. Y/N you’re better at trivia but Joe you’re really good at charades.”

Joe and you looked at each other and then back to Gwil.

“Seems like a bit of a cop-out to me,” Joe pointed out.

“Yeah, why don’t you just give us a real--”

“Y/N! There you are!” you heard Lucy calling out to you and you turned to see your best friend excusing herself from some of her family members. She half ran over to you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Hey you look nice,” you told her when you pulled back and could see her outfit. She was in a flowy cream colored dress with ruffles and gold ribbon sewn in.

“Thank you,” she replied. Then a cheeky smile took over her face and she told you, “You look a bit like a young widow attending her 80-year-old husband’s funeral after killing him in his sleep. All you’re missing is the black veil.”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N, you look lovely,” Rami told you as he walked up.

As he kissed your cheek and you leaned in for a hug you told him while looking at Lucy, “Thank you, Rami, you truly are such a good friend.”

“I’m just telling it like it is,” Lucy shrugged to everyone’s amusement.

Everyone got to chatting and catching up, but when you were in the middle of a conversation with Gwil, Lucy pulled you away.

“Where did he get to?” Lucy wondered, looking around the room. “Who--?”

“Ah there he is,” Lucy told herself more than you and started pulling you over to the other side of the room.

You had no idea where she was leading you to until you noticed a man with blonde hair facing the other direction and talking to a couple you didn’t know. Realizing it must be Ben, your stomach dropped but whether it was out of anticipation, excitement, or anxiousness you couldn’t tell. Ben had been hyped up so much both by your friends and by the idea of him you had in your mind. Now it was even worse after that speech Lucy had given you a couple weeks ago. Even though she hadn’t meant to, she was putting all of your attention on Ben with the thought of sex in mind. Now you were just trying to stave it off so you didn’t make a fool of yourself upon meeting him.

Taking a deep breath in as Lucy tapped on his shoulder, you tried to ready yourself for anything that might happen. Ben looked quickly and saw that it was Lucy and politely excused himself from the conversation.

Even just hearing him say that made your eyes widen slightly; he had such a deep, rich voice that in any other case your mouth would practically be watering at the thought of what it would sound like in bed. Now, you had that thought but had to drop it quickly from your mind because it would lead places that weren’t allowed.

Ben finally turned around, smiling at Lucy and then his expression turned to interest when he saw you.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben,” Lucy said and the two of you shook hands, smiling and exchanging pleasantries. “Okay so you both already know that you’ll be walking together so… get to know each other! Become, acquainted, better yet become friends!”

Both of you laughed lightly at Lucy’s words and then waved her off when someone started calling for her.

“So you’re the infamous Ben,” you said jokingly, looking him up and down as if you were studying him and not as if he was just incredibly good to look at.

“Infamous? Do I have that bad of a reputation?” Ben said back good-naturedly, though he was a little worried you had heard about his penchant for sleeping with people at weddings, especially with Rami confronting him about it.

“Well, maybe not bad, more I’ve just heard about you so much without meeting you that if it weren’t for your movies I wouldn’t have thought you really existed,” you amended with a smile.

“Oh my movies, huh? You’ve seen more than one?” Ben asked cheekily and your cheeks flushed for a moment.

“Well I’ve obviously seen borhap, as you would call it, and I saw X-Men before all that to keep up with the series, and my family’s very into action movies, so I caught 6 Underground with them,” you explained.

“Seems like you’re pretty familiar with my filmography,” he pointed out with a smile.

“If that’s what you wanna think…”

“I think that you’ve been here for about ten minutes and no one’s gotten you a drink. Can I fix that?” Ben asked, gesturing to your empty hands.

“Lead the way,” you replied, and he guided you over to where a little bar was set up. On the way, you had to remind yourself again of the rules and that though a handsome man was making you a drink, that was all that was happening.

“Alright, they’ve got the works so what would you like?” Ben said with an easy smile.

“Oh, um, I like Moscow mules,” you told him.

“Good choice, good choice,” Ben replied as he looked around at the different bottles. “A Moscow mule…”

“Do you know how to make a Moscow mule?” you asked because he had missed the ginger beer bottle about three times.

“What? Of course I… don’t,” he admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay, I can just make it,” you suggested but Ben shook his head.

“No, I said I was going to get you a drink, and I’ll make it. If you could just tell me how?” he said with a small smile.

You laughed and nodded, “Okay, so just squeeze a lime wedge into the glass and go ahead and drop it in. Then a couple ice cubes, that’s good. And now two oz. of vodka, actually why don’t you do one and a half, I don’t need two right now. Now you just fill the rest with ginger beer and give it a stir!”

Ben stirred the drink and then garnished it with another lime wedge, “Ta-da, my first ever Moscow mule and all for you!”

Taking it from him, you waited until he grabbed his own drink again and then held yours up for a cheers. After taking a sip you said, “Mmm, very good, just like a real bartender. Do you want to try?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile and you carefully exchanged drinks so he didn’t have to hold both while he did. Your hands brushed against each other a couple times and you had to keep your breath from catching at how warm his hands were and the way he looked at you when it happened. “Oh wow, yeah that’s very good. Maybe I’ll have to have these from now on.”

“And hey, if the acting thing ever stops working out, you could always fall back on being a bartender,” you joked, unable to stop your laughter.

Ben shook his head but laughed too, saying, “That’s cold, that’s cold.”

Then he took another gulp of your drink and you reached forward to get it from him, “Hey, that’s mine, make your own if you’re so good at it.”

“Just a repayment for you being so mean. There, have it back,” he said with a smirk, handing it back to you and grabbing his own drink from your hand.

“Hmph,” you held your drink close to you to keep him from getting it again and Ben laughed at your actions, about to say something else when Rami was heard over the chatter saying that dinner was ready.

_

For dinner you were sat in between Lucy and Joe with Ben across from you and Gwilym and Rami next to him. Talk and laughter interrupted the actual eating of the meal, but it was hard to mind because everyone was having so much fun. Lucy and Rami’s families were on the other side of them, so everyone got to hear funny stories about their childhood as well.

After dinner, you and Emma had volunteered to get the dessert ready after some others had helped put away the dishes. You took it as an opportunity to catch up a little.

“So, you and that Ben seem to be hitting it off,” Emma said in a teasing tone as she started grabbing little plates from a cupboard.

“Please, you’re not doing recon for Lucy are you?” you asked with a roll of your eyes and taking the cleaned forks from the dish rack.

Emma looked at you confusedly, “What do you mean?”

“She didn’t tell you what she told me?” you asked and she shook her head. You sighed, taking the cover off the homemade sheet cake as you told her, “She told me that I wasn’t allowed to fuck anyone. And especially Ben because we’re walking together.”

Emma broke out in laughter at the words you said and the dejected way in which you said them, accidentally dropping the cake server onto the counter with a clatter, “Oh my gosh, honestly I can’t blame her, you do kinda wreak havoc on weddings.”

“That’s not fair! There’s only been like two outright verbal fights because of me,” you defended, taking the cake server yourself and starting to cut squares of cake.

“Hey, don’t take your anger out on the cake,” she pointed to your first haphazard piece of cake. “Anyway, how many passive aggressive altercations have there been because of you?”

“I dunno,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders but Emma’s look made you add, “Fine, a lot.”

“Exactly, now Ben’s hot I’ll give you that,  but I think you can survive these next weeks without jumping his bones. It’s not like you’ll be seeing him all the time,” Emma told you.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be an adult, whatever. Lucy and Rami already covered this, you know,” you said with a bit of annoyance.

“Okay I’ll shut up. Let’s get this cake out there before there’s a riot,” she joked and you smiled, following her back into the living room with the pan of cake as she took the forks and plates.

_

Emma’s speech (you swore next it’ll be their mom telling you not to fuck Ben) did give you new resolve not to get too friendly with Ben, thinking it was better to interact with him in groups from now on.

That plan went well for most of the rest of the night as Joe, Gwilym, and Emma proved effective buffers. But then Gwilym had to leave because he had call time in the morning and Joe went with because he was staying with him. Then Emma went off to compare notes with Sami, Rami’s brother, about their respective maid of honor and best man responsibilities. You looked around and realized that because it was getting later and the families had gone home and Lucy and Rami were off doing who knows what in the kitchen, you were completely alone with Ben.

Not only that, but you were sitting right next to him on the couch and your knees were definitely touching. You tapped your fingers on your cup as you listened to Ben. He was telling you about shooting in Italy, which you had asked about because after going to Venice, you wanted to see more, but it was hard to pay attention. Your focus was being brought to his hands that he used to gesture as he talked. To his hair that he would absent-mindedly run his fingers through whenever a strand fell down onto his forehead. To his lips, oh fuck his full lips, that he licked whenever he smiled or laughed.

You could feel yourself leaning closer to him and if you weren’t wrong, his words were slowing down and he was getting closer to you too.

“So, yeah, I loved Florence, but um, Siena was something-- something special. It’s, it’s really-- really gorgeous,” Ben finished.

You looked up at him but found that he was looking at your lips and had tugged his own between his teeth. With the second drink in your system and the way you could feel Ben’s body heat radiating towards you and pulling you in, you were a second away from saying fuck it iand just kissing him.

“Are you done with your drink? Do you need another or?” Lucy’s voice asking you brought both of you out of whatever state you were in and you moved apart from each other, not so subtly.

You looked to Lucy and didn’t miss the pointed look she was giving you. “No, I should probably actually head out. I’ve got something in the morning, thanks though.”

Ben stood up when you did and you said goodbye with a strictly friendly hug. Then you said goodbye to Lucy, telling her quietly that she didn’t have to say anything. You found Rami with Emma and Sami and said goodbye to all of them.

As you were headed to the front door to let yourself out, Ben walked up behind you.

“Hold on a second,” he said and you turned around to him with a pleasant smile. “I, um, wanted to give you my number in case there’s ever anything that we need to discuss or whatever since we’re, you know, walking together.”

Ben was a little awkward getting that out, so you handed your phone to him with a bright, “Sure!” to reassure him.

He typed in his phone number and you were ready to walk away with a quick goodbye but Ben got a look in his eye. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your breath caught, and then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. Although not the kiss you were expecting, it still had an effect on you. It was different to the ones you had gotten from say Gwilym or Rami. Though it was probably just as quick, it felt a lot longer and just that simple act made your whole body feel warm.

“Looking forward to seeing you soon,” Ben said softly, hardly waiting for your quiet, “you too” before walking back to the living room.

You reached your hand up to the spot on your cheek he had kissed and walked out the door. That warm feeling didn’t go away all night.

💖💖💖

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[shhhhyoursister]

okay im gonna post this right before i go to bed because i havent posted new stuff in a while and its like AHH but okay so here is the first of the unfinshied/unedited things ive written, and the first of the two lets say..... niche aus i have.....very niche and very exposing of how much of a loser i am!! 

i mentioned this one a few times and before everything got bad in the world i had so many ideas but here yall go here is my beloved davenzi pokemon au i hope all you other losers enjoy

(also please excuse all the brackets i write things out of order but always need to make notes of what happens in between)

Matteo pushed the door open, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and let out a loud yawn as he stretched an arm over his head. He raised the glass of Pinap juice to his mouth and took a sip, smiling around the rim as he looked out at the large meadow behind his house.

The berry trees were growing tall around the perimeter of the fence, patches of grass at various lengths sprouting out of the ground. The large pond off to the side had its own waterfall, a feature his mother was extremely proud of, and he could admit that it added a little something special to the space

It wasn’t much, but they  did what they could with what they had. It was enough for the Pokémon they cared for, at least. 

At that thought, he felt something tugging at his pants, and he glanced down and smiled at the Vulpix at his feet. Its teeth were caught in the fabric but he reached down to pat it on the head anyway, knowing that was just its way of greeting him. It let go and stood next to him, like it was expecting something.

“What do you want?” he asked, poking it lightly in the side with his foot, and laughed when it rolled onto its back and latched onto it with its paw, and tried to secure its hold with the leg that was missing one. Matteo got it off easy and it sprung back up, ready to play.

He rolled his eyes, and walked further out into the meadow, the Vulpix trotting along happily beside him. There were a few Pokémon that he needed to check on before breakfast for himself or the rest of the Pokémon roaming around the property, and he wanted to get it done fast because the Tauros with the bandage over its eye was snorting at him from over in its usual corner. He quickened his pace.

He was looking for the Luvdisc that his mother had found a few days before, alone and hungry in shallow water, and his eyes scanned over the mostly clear water, trying to catch any sign of the pink water-type swimming around. He saw it just as it darted around a Buizel and behind a rock, seeming to be in much better shape than the day before. He was about to turn and head to the small shed in the back where they kept some of the Pokémon in more serious condition, but he looked up when he heard the door slide open, and his mom call his name.

“Matteo, Jonas is here to say bye!” She yelled out, and he turned and started making his way back.

“I didn’t get to look at the Pachirisu yet.” He said, jogging up to her. She was smiling softly at him, her long brown hair pulled back in a bandana. She was holding a bowl in her arms, no doubt the breakfast she had been making for the Pokémon when he had come downstairs that morning

“Don’t worry about that, go see your friend, and wish him luck!” she said, walking out the back door, “He’s going to battle his next gym leader!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Matteo muttered as he walked past her, setting his glass down as he went. 

He found Jonas by the front door, six Pokéballs attached to his waist, and a large bag on his back. He had his Jigglypuff out of its ball by his side, and it started bouncing when Matteo got closer.

“Hey, Luigi!” Jonas exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug, and Matteo squeezed his arms around his backpack. The hug was bittersweet, and he almost didn’t want to let go. He didn’t have many friends in his little town, and his responsibilities at the Pokémon Sanctuary made it difficult to go too far.

“You feeling ready?” Matteo asked, knowing what Jonas was going to say. He had always been confident, and was getting through the gyms at a rapid pace.

“Of course, bro,” he said, grinning and punching Matteo in the arm, “I feel ready to battle anyone after beating that ghost-type gym leader. That was rough, it took me four fucking tries!”

Matteo nodded as Jonas went off. Matteo had heard the stories many times, not just from Jonas, but similar ones from other trainers in his town; the gym leader that happened to be the closest to them also happened to be one of the toughest. His Pokémon were strong, he was strong, but most importantly his connection to each of them was strong. He was admired, envied, and heavily respected.

Nobody knew anything about him, though.

The gym was off deep in the woods, off of one of the random routes running through their town. It was not only hard to find, but hard to navigate, as once one entered it was quite clear that the house was designed to keep people out. There were traps and dead ends and looping hallways that all just led back to the beginning, and Jonas said it took him hours to even find the staircase that led to the gym leader.

“I should be heading off if I want to get to the city before it’s dark,” Jonas said, and extended his arms for another hug. Matteo squeezed him again, and said his own goodbye before Jonas ruffled his hair and went out the door, the Jigglypuff following close behind. Matteo let out a sigh, and walked back through his house. 

“Matteo, can you come here a second?” he heard his mother call from the kitchen, and he sighed again and poked his head into the room.

“Yeah, mama?” He asked, itching to get back outside. He had been making progress with the skittish Ponyta that hid whenever anyone else came near it, and he had been wanting to see if it would eat out of his hand that morning.

“You seem sad,” she said, and he stopped himself from rolling his eyes and walked further into the kitchen as she continued, “you’re not usually sad when Jonas or your other friends go off to battle.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to miss him,” he said, knowing that wasn’t all, “last time he left he didn’t come back for a month. And I haven’t seen Abdi or Carlos in longer than that, and I don’t even know where Amira is right now.”

His mother nodded. She had heard him say that before, note that as the reason he was upset anytime the idea of gyms or badges or battling was brought up. She walked over to him and put a hand on his cheek, and smiled gently.

“You know, if you want to take a break from this and train,  you can.”

Matteo closed his eyes. It was something she had offered before, and he knew that there was almost no way he would be willing to take her up on it. The sanctuary was too important to him, no matter how much he might’ve wanted a party of his own. He didn’t need his own Pokémon when there were dozens that needed him right at home.

“I’m not going to stop helping you here, mama,” Matteo responded as usual, “this is more important than winning a few gym badges.”

“You wouldn’t even have to stop if you don’t want to,” she said, patting him on the cheek and moving back over to the stove where she was cooking their breakfast, “if you want to do both, find some Pokémon from the sanctuary. I’m sure some of them would be more than happy to battle with you.”

Matteo laughed sarcastically, and then actually thought about what his mother said, and his mouth drew into a line. He didn’t know if he wanted to put that burden on any of the Pokémon that they were caring for, even though he knew in the back of his head that some would be willing and able. He thought about that little Vulpix that would follow behind him and nip at his heels, and the Butterfree that would always swoop over his head and chirp happily at him, and even the Tauros with the eyepatch liked him as long as he was fed.

“I don’t know,” he settled on, and then turned to the door, “I’m going to check on the rest.”

****

Later that night, Matteo was sitting out on the roof outside of his room, after climbing through the window. It looked out over the entire sanctuary, but it was too dark for him to see much. He could see some small ripples in the water in the pond, but beyond that the only thing he could make out were sounds. He could hear something, probably a Rattata or Sandshrew, scratching and digging around the grass, and the melodic chirps of a Kricketot. He heard the same Noctowl as before cooing quietly in one of the trees, and he closed his eyes as a breeze blew by.

They were the sounds he had grown up with. Matteo was raised out in the sanctuary more than he was inside his own home. His mother and father had opened it soon after getting married, had built it into something highly respected in their community. They had a large staff working with them and they would get multiple calls each day from people finding injured Pokémon out in the wild.

There were photo albums full of him as an infant being stared at by a confused Pikachu, being (very carefully) held by a Kangaskhan, laughing as a Ledyba flew overhead. Once he was old enough he started working alongside his parents, and everyone in town loved the Florenzi’s, the couple that would save wild Pokémon with their wild son by their side. 

When Matteo was around twelve, things went a little sour. His dad started talking more about battling, and gyms, and how cool it would be to go out and see the world beyond their small town. He tried to convince Matteo that they could go off and battle together, father and son, and when Matteo refused, his father had gone quiet. A few days later, he came down for breakfast to his mother crying, his father’s stuff gone, and six of the Pokémon from the sanctuary missing as well.

He took a deep pull from the joint in his mouth, remembering the fierce promise he had made to himself that morning; he would never, ever, leave his mother like his father did. Battling and gym badges weren’t worth it.

But there was something in the back of Matteo’s head that was starting to get louder as he sat there. Something saying that just going to one gym wouldn’t be the same; he could work at the sanctuary during the day, train with (willing) Pokémon at night, and in a few weeks make the short trip to the ghost-type gym. He wasn’t expecting that he’d win, no matter what gym he went to, but the desire for something more was unfortunately undeniable. Matteo hated what his father did, but could understand the urge to run away. 

He stubbed the joint out and took one more look at the sanctuary before going back inside and getting ready for bed. As he climbed under the covers, he realized he made up his mind. His first task for the morning, alongside his usual morning chores, was to see which Pokémon wanted to, and were able to, battle. 

****

[Matteo makes a party and its kind of a mishmash of misfits but it’s the best he can do because he doesn't want to go out and catch wild Pokémon especially when he has some that want to battle with him]

[He spends a few weeks training and it's really tough and they aren’t amazing but they're better than he expected, and he doesn't really get why they love him and listen to him the way they do]

[One day he decided that he's ready and he promises his mom that he's gonna be back that night and he goes off to find the ghost type gym]

[He finds the gym and it looks completely abandoned and he has to climb over a gate to get in but he does it and then he has to walk through this super creepy dark place and he's having a rough time and he's getting more and more scared and worried that he's in the wrong place and that what he's doing is a bad idea and that he should just turn around when-]

And then finally, a staircase.

Matteo saw it at the end of the hall and sighed in relief. He was exhausted, glad that his Pokémon were in their Pokéballs so they weren’t as tired as him. He wiped the sweat off of his brow, and then tied his bandana around his head to keep his hair out of his face as he walked towards the stairs. He placed his foot on the first one and winced at the loud creak that came from it. He walked up the stairs carefully, seeing a door as he got closer to the top.

He finally reached the top of the stairway, and his shoulders dropped when he saw the door. There was a board across it, blocking it off, and Matteo felt anger start to bubble up inside him. He had spent hours trying to find the fucking place, had banked on Jonas mentioning a staircase, and had gotten so hopeful when he saw it. He huffed and, like a child, kicked hard at the door. His jaw dropped when it swung open.

He carefully made his way inside, his eyes scanning around the large room, too dark for him to make anything out. There seemed to be a fog making it even harder to see, and he waved his arm in front of him to see if he could clear it away. He took a few steps, and then a few more, and was about to take another when he heard a quiet, “I’d stop there if I were you.”

Matteo’s head snapped up and he froze, unable to tell where the sudden voice came from. He could feel his breathing pick up, and he could even hear it in the silence that followed the voice, and was about to turn and bolt when he heard, also quiet but with a bit of a laugh under it, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just didn’t want you to fall in.”

Matteo whipped his head around, trying to figure out what he was about to fall in, when it seemed like the fog seemed to thin. He looked around the room as details became clearer, the blueish-green tiles on the walls and the white, chipped paint, and he looked down at his feet and stumbled back a few steps; he was standing right at the edge of what seemed to be a huge, empty, swimming pool.

Well, almost empty. As the fog cleared, Matteo could make out a figure on the other side, who seemed to be sitting on the edge, their feet dangling into the empty space below. He watched the figure kick off the edge and land with a quiet sound a few feet below in the pool itself, and then they started coming closer.

Matteo felt himself get nervous. Not scared, like he had been initially getting to the building, and wandering around in the dark, and when he had first come into the room and seen the fog. He was nervous, because there was no way that this person wasn’t the gym leader, which meant that he was about to battle a gym leader. 

“Are you going to come down here?” The voice asked again, definitely coming from the approaching gym leader. 

Matteo took a breath before looking around and spotting a ladder that led down into the pool. He made his way over on shaky legs and got himself down as carefully as he could, landing hard on his feet and stumbling a little. He righted himself just as he heard the gym leader stop, and he took another deep breath before looking up.

And he huffed out that breath, because the man standing in front of him had to be a dream, or maybe there was a Pokémon there that had some kind of power that was making him hallucinate, because there was no other explanation for how he was so beautiful. And Matteo knew that he shouldn’t have been focusing on that, but he was only human, and he was very, very gay.

“You’re quiet,” the gym leader said, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling, “you are here to battle, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Matteo said quickly, grabbing a hand around one of the Pokéballs around his waist, “my first one.”

He wanted to slap a hand over his face for saying that. He didn’t think that was good information to tell the person that he was about to battle if he wanted to seem confident, not that that wasn’t already out the window with his obvious panic. He watched the gym leader smile bright, and he wished it didn’t make his stomach jolt the way it did.

“Aw, you chose me to be your first?” he asked, placing a hand over his heart, “I’m honored.”

Matteo smiled. He was funny at least, even if he was going to beat Matteo and his Pokémon within six rounds probably. 

“Mostly just out of convenience, this is the gym closest to me.” he explained, not really knowing how much he was supposed to be talking. He had no idea what he was doing, at all, but the gym leader didn’t seem to be rushing anything along.

“That makes sense, I’m not usually the first gym people come to. I don’t know why that is, though,” he stepped back and threw his arms out, “I try to make it nice, you know?”

Matteo snorted, “Yeah, that fence you have to hop to get in is really welcoming, and the board across the door really makes me feel at home.”

The gym leader laughed, and Matteo let himself laugh with him, losing a bit of the nerves he had coming in.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” he said, and then grabbed a Pokéball seemingly out of thin air, threw it up and then as he caught it turned to Matteo and asked, “so, are you ready for your first battle? I’ll go easy on you.”

He said it was a slightly patronizing grin, so Matteo grabbed his own Pokéball in his hand, tilted his head with a sweet smile and said, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to.”

David looked happily surprised and nodded, and before Matteo could react he threw the Pokéball into the air, and a Mimikyu landed on the ground in front of him. Matteo looked at it in shock.

“You have a Mimikyu?” he asked, wanting to get closer to look. The Pokémon was looking at him, or at least the disguise part was, gently flopping around on top of the Pokémon it was concealing inside.

“Yeah, it was one of my first,” the gym leader said with a small smile, and then shook himself out of it and grinned cocikly, “which means it’s one of my strongest.”

Matteo nodded, and threw his own Pokéball into the air, Vulpix springing onto the ground in front of him. It looked ready, stanced and nose pointed at the Mimikyu in front of it. The battle started when the gym leader called out his first move.

And Matteo lost. Badly, and quickly, and if he wasn’t so worried about getting home so he could tend to his Pokémon he would've been more embarrassed. He dropped to his knees next to his Sandshrew as it trembled on the ground from the last attack laid on it by the gym leader’s second Pokémon.

“That was pretty good for a first try,” he heard echo through the room, and he looked up and pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“It wasn’t good. I wasn’t meant to be a trainer, and these Pokémon weren’t meant to battle. I should just give up.” He sighed, and held the Pokéball out so the Sandshrew could return to it and rest. He got up and dusted himself off, and saw the gym leader standing much closer than he had been.

“It’s not that you weren’t good, you just weren’t ready. You have a connection to these guys. I can see it.” the gym leader said earnestly, reaching his hand out. 

“That doesn’t mean they should be battling,” he sighed, “they’re all from the sanctuary me and my mom have. I shouldn’t have made them do this.”

“You weren’t making them do anything,” the gym leader said quickly, “seriously, you can tell they’re enjoying it because they’re doing it with you. I’ve been a gym leader for a while, you should trust me on this. I know Pokémon.”

“Well, so do I,” Matteo said with an angry huff, making his mind up again, “and I’m done battling.”

He turned, ignoring the disappointed look on the face of the gym leader, and climbed up the ladder before hurrying home.

****

[Matteo really doesnt think hes gonna go back but the pokemon were having fun and he kinda wants to see david again so he starts training again, gets a bit stronger and goes back]

He found it easier the second time, and made his way through it easier the second time too, as if he actually remembered the way through the crazy maze inside. When he got to the top of the stairs and saw the boarded up door again he snorted, and took a deep breath before pushing his way into the room again.

He was greeted by the same thick fog, the same tiles around the walls, the same chipping paint, but he knew to not take too many steps in. He figured the gym leader knew he came in, as the fog started clearing again once he was in the room, and he saw the same figure seated in the same spot on the edge of the pool.

“Oh, the boy from the Pokémon sanctuary!” the gym leader called out as he jumped down onto the pool tiles, “I’ve been expecting you.”

Matteo laughed and said, “I didn’t think I was coming back, how could you have been expecting me?”

“I could see it in your eyes,” the gym leader took a few steps closer, “you want to win. Or you want to prove something. No matter what it is, you have a reason to be here.”

Matteo smiled before making his way down the ladder and into the pool. His feet hit the tiles and he turned around so he could the gym leader, who he was getting very tired of only referring to as ‘the gym leader’.

“What’s your name?” he asked quickly, before he could think better of it, “Like, I know your whole thing is being mysterious but I have a feeling I’m going to be coming back here again.”

“Oh, so we’re already on a first name basis?” the gym leader asked, spinning around and a few steps towards the wall he had been sitting on, and he leaned his back against it, smiling.

“I just figured it’ll save us time later. Easier to do it now than in a month when it’ll be awkward.” He shrugged, offering a half smile. He tried to play it off as a joke, but he wanted to know.

He watched the gym leader smile, and then bite his lip and look down at the floor. He tapped his foot on the ground a few times before kicking off the wall and saying, “Okay, then. I’m David.”

Matteo smiled, nodded, quietly responded, “I’m Matteo,” and took a Pokéball off of his belt. 

[softlyjiminie]

call him | j.j.k [ ii ]

⇢ paring(s): jeon jungkook x reader, park jimin x reader.

⇢ word count: 3.5K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, smut, fwb!au, college!au.

⇢ summary: jimin is yours, you are jimin’s but what does jungkook make of that?

⇢ warning(s):  please read! heavy smut, cumplay, fingering, oral ( female and male recieving ), light choking, spanking, exhibitionism, master/sir kink, daddy kink, sub!reader, dom!jimin, male mastrubation, breeding kink kind of, marking, heavy degrading, swearing, unprotected sex ( wear protection please. ), ex-friends with benefits.

⇢ author’s note(s): friends! i think its been a month or two since I last posted but ive been getting ready for uni! so ive decided to try and post fanfics at least once or twice a month, anyways here's a long awaited continuation of my first smut, call him. ( update: this fic has been updated and edited as of 2020 )

⇢ parts: ( one ) ( here! ) ( final )

“friends with benefits, huh?” were the first words park jimin had spoken to you after the phone call. you’d taken his number from jungkook’s phone that night and went home almost straight away to call him for real, spending the early hours of friday morning blabbering about everything and nothing. 

jimin had wanted to take you out the very next day, asking you to meet him outside of the campus coffee shop that evening. you’d arrived early of course, spying him working a shift through the window, which made you smile. jimin had always seemed like a quiet, shy boy and working at the coffee shop had suited him well. what you hadn’t expected was that very same, rather soft, looking boy to step out in some tight fitting black skinny jeans and a layered shirt after changing out of his uniform. 

“wha-wha-? huh?” you asked more so to yourself than to him. he smiled, looking down at his feet as he shifted a hand through his rose tinted hair, rocking on his tip toes. 

“your thing with jeon, thought we’d talk it out first before it causes bumps in our relationship, yano?” jimin shrugged, looking you in the eye this time. You must’ve looked quite flustered, since he was smirking at you cheekily.

you nodded a long with him, scuffing your boot as you shoved your sweaty fingers into your pockets to conceal them. “of course, i ended things with him...we’re cool now,” you had hummed as jimin begun to walk with you, at the time you hadn’t known where you were going but that didn’t matter. “it’s just you and i now...i guess?” 

jimin then smirked, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i guess it is.” 

                                                     “mmph park jimin!” you gasp, fingers curling in his lavender sky locks so hard you swore you could smell the bleach in his roots. he smirks devilishly against your inner thigh, biting a solid seven more hickies either side before delving back into your flower to get a taste of its sweet nectar. he was like a bee, a fool of a creature following the honey duct to its alluring centre, drinking in every sound you made. “jimin!” 

his glinting eyes blink up at you from over your hips, tongue lapping at your precious gem as he did so. “good morning princess, sleep well?” he teases, dancing his fingers along your naked thigh to push them further apart. the man himself had been lying on his stomach between your legs when you woke up and now he was sliding two digits over your hot centre. “so wet...”

“minnie, min...minmin baby, please... i have a lecture soon.” you whine, thrashing about a bit when jimin held your hips down slightly. he only grunts in response, slipping his tongue over your sweet lips before thumbing your clit.

 “how long have we got?” 

“ten minutes to shower, five to dress and if i skip makeup...ah! oh my god you brat, just let me cum!” 

you growl at jimin, who wastes no more time in devouring you fully, on a mission to get you to your high. you cant help but squeal when he the plunges the two fingers past your entrance without warning, mewling as he curls them into a hook shape to stimulate that special spot. his tongue lapped loops around your bundle of nerves in a sloppy cycle and the combined movements make you call out his name as your release crashes over you in record time, after shocks of bliss pooling through your veins. 

“what a perfect start to the day, i don’t think i even need to make breakfast.” jimin hummed, as he helps you up, the remains of your previous orgasm painting his chin. you roll your eyes at him as you stand with shaky legs, but your boyfriend being ever the gentleman guides you to your feet and spanks your ass when you make a move for the bathroom. “perfect view too.” 

“park jimin, you’re insatiable.” you remind him, before slinking off into the shower to quickly prepare yourself for the lectures ahead. the spring haired boy only grins again, having no classes until later. 

“and you love me for it!” 

you flip him the middle finger.

the walk to your lecture is pretty quick despite the quiver in your legs and you believe you can make it within fifteen minutes of starting. your thoughts trickle off into the last six months, in which you had spent with jimin.

after ending things with jungkook, you found yourself falling quickly for the boy with lilac hair, his crescent moon eyes and soft smile effortlessly drawing you in. jimin was sweet and caring, had a tender heart and was everything you could have ever needed. jimin had never pressured you, waited until you were ready for anything (especially being intimate.) and was overall the first boyfriend you’d felt happy with. spending time with jimin made you realise that you didn’t have many friends outside of jungkook, even your ex-roommate didn’t like you that much. your boyfriend had introduced you to his little circle of people, and you’d really grown into yourself.

sliding into the lecture hall, you took your seat midway through the rows, making sure you had a good enough view of the front. you pulled out your computer to start up your notes, noticing the sticky note jimin had left you on its top. 

‘lunch at noon? my treat, my sweet <3’ 

you giggled at the message, tucking it into  your notebook and shoot jimin a quick text to let him know where your class was. it soon started up, causing everyone else to resume their seats and take out their belongings. you looked down, only for a moment to shove your phone into your pocket when a familiar scent filled your nostrils. the smell of fresh leather and a soft fruits, you shifted uncomfortably instantly recognising the person instantly. 

“YN!” a voice to your right called, the owner beaming down at you as they sat. your shoulders relaxed slightly as you met their gaze, offering a smile of your own. 

“morning yoongi, you seem chipper today.” you chuckled as you noted the large coffee the man had gathered along his belongings. whilst yoongi was majoring in sound technology, he had decided to take a semester of psychology to boost his appeal to employers and also have something to fall back on just in case. “what’s in your coffee?” 

he grinned at you, handing you the cup for you to take a sip. you grimaced after with a shake of your head. “vodka.” 

“you’re annoying.” 

yoongi only smiled a gummy smile in response, mischief sparking in his eyes much like his best friend, jimin. the rest of the class passed easily, notes being taken and ideas being shared. although, the end had come to a halt as your professor handed out your midterm assignments. 

a partner project. 

and of course, your partner had to be... “jeon jungkook and YN LN, your assignment is to be based on plasticity and recovery of brain function. i have high expectations of you ms LN.”

you nod sheepishly at your professor, turning to face jungkook shortly after, unsure of how to approach the situation. “we should probably meet up to make arrangements for this.” he mutters when you finally make eye contact, his dark hair is much longer and curlier than you remember as it falls just under his brow bone. his face is fuller which shows he’s been eating well, but there’s a slightly more grown look to him. older. “are you free for lunch?” 

you shake your head. “no, i have plans.” 

“i see,” jungkook nods, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyes you up and down and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. that was something he always did when he wanted you, and whilst it’d turn you on before, it now made you feel gross and dirty, only jimin had that heated effect on you now. “i’ll text you then?” 

“sure, i can give you my number?” you answer his question with your own, a guilty throb in your chest when a disappointed look crosses his face. 

“i never deleted it.” jungkook sighs, standing abruptly to leave the lecture hall. there was nothing keeping him behind since those who were paired were allowed to go. you bit your lip, flustered at his cold and awkward behaviour. you wondered if he knew about yourself and jimin, he must’ve if neither of you had reached out to one another. truth be told you had blocked jungkook’s number after you began to date jimin, just to make sure the two relationships never overlapped. he’d never texted you though.

you pack up the rest of your things without bothering to wait for yoongi, a tired frown slipping over your face before you catch jimin outside your class room. a bright smile grew on his lips as he noticed you, the friends he had with him turning to face you as well. you couldn’t help but skip into his arms, throwing your own around his neck as he hoisted you up by the waist.

“afternoon, princess.” he smirked against your ear, pressing a kiss to the spot under there. “how was your lecture?” 

you chose to pout, nuzzling into him instead. “terrible, i hated every second of it.” you complained into his skin as he rubbed your back, soothingly. 

jimin frowned as he pulled away from you ever so slightly, taking a quick glance over your features before locking his gaze on you. “and why’s that?” 

you shook your head right as yoongi crawled out from the depths of the lecture hall, a tired and bored expression painted on his face whilst he shrugged his back pack over one shoulder. 

“she’s upset because he got paired with that jungkook kid on her latest psych project, i think he’s in our class for some extra credit.” he answered in a nonchalant tone, moving over to swing his arm around his boyfriend seokjin. that was quite a sight to see, since the blonde male was much shorter than the other. jimin’s other friends; namjoon and taehyung only rolled their eyes at the shorter’s antics.

jimin frowned as he let his lips brush your forehead, holding you close as if you were to slip away. “if he bothers you, baby...” your boyfriend started, a possessive tone flickering in his voice as he held you. “you let me know right away, yeah?” 

you nodded, blinking in his grasp as he lead you off to lunch. “right away.” 

taehyung had chosen a local noodle bar owned by a small old lady and her husband for lunch. it was a little ways from the university campus, but your small group of friends liked to think of it as your smaller hideout. only a handful of students knew about it.

you had shuffled over to the counter to pick up some extra napkins, your boyfriend being a particularly messy eater. the girl behind the counter had actually been the granddaughter of the old couple, who’d come over from the states to connect with her roots. you remained chatting away with her for a while when her gaze shifted over to a customer waiting beside you. 

“i’ll have your order to go out in a moment, sir.” she bid politely with a nod, smiling at the customer as she slid off to the kitchen.

“no worries,” jungkook mumbled, to your surprise. you hadn’t been expecting to find him here, especially with the exclusiveness of this place. “so this is where you came instead of planning for our project.”

you frowned, chewing on your bottom lip as your feet remained rooted in place. the boy had a lazy smirk that would have made your heart flutter if it weren’t for the fact that you were utterly in love with your lavender haired boyfriend tucked away in the bathroom. “are you following me?” you blurted out, not even thinking. you internally cringed as you watched a sour expression fall over the taller boy’s face. another slip up.

“we came here during freshman year,” jungkook furrowed his brows with a quiet voice. “y’know, when we were still friends.”

you flinched, eyes scrunching shut. “jungkook-“ 

he waved a hand as the girl came back with a plastic bag of warm food, the smell instantly telling you it was his favourite spicy noodles. “if you’re here alone, i’d really like to talk about how we can split the project up so we can start it sooner.” 

you blinked, mind reeling at the change of subject and how easily he could mask up his hurt. you shrugged.  

“well actually, im not alone right now but-“

“but she’s with me, her boyfriend, park jimin.” your boyfriend hummed, a hint of hostility in his tone as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. jungkook only eyed the latter male up and down with an unimpressed look, but his deep doe eyes only told you how hurt he was. because you’d been best friends up until this point, the last six months being spent in jimin’s arms instead of his. “did you need anything, kook?” 

“no, i was just leaving.” the younger seethed back and glanced down at jimin, being half a head taller. you felt his eyes waver over you as jungkook moved to brush past you. 

jimin growled, seemingly not liking the way that the younger was looking at you, opting the grab him by the wrist, much to your surprise. “watch yourself around my girlfriend, alright jeon? 

the younger nodded, pulling his arm from your boyfriend’s grip before shooting you a glare that sent a slight pang to your heart. as soon as he was gone you felt jimin ease up beside you, his whisky orbs fluttering over your face to check if you were alright.

“you okay baby?” he hummed, standing before you to brush hair back from your face. you nodded in response, pushing the napkins into jimin’s chest with a small frown as he held you. “if he bothers you again, make sure to tell me, i’ll take care of it.” 

you sighed, ignoring the flash of guilt that struck you when looking at jungkook walk away. before all this he had been your best friend, and you’d let him slip away from you. “thank you minnie, i love you.” 

the lavender haired boy kissed your cheeks gently, smiling at you as he pulled away. his brightness distracting you from the hurt in your heart. “and i adore you, baby.” 

the following week you’d arranged to meet up with jungkook in the library, a series of texts and awkward encounters had gotten you there. now you sat alone in your favourite corner, nose buried deep into a book on stem cells for brain recovery. the brightness of the world seemed to disappear as a pair of hands covered your eyes.

“guess who?” jungkook mumbled, his warm breath tickling at the nape of your neck, causing the hairs their to stand on end. your body jolted in response, memories of your earlier times together flashing like light bulbs in your mind. and the dark haired boy seemed to tune in with that, signified with a deep chuckle. 

he slid down into the seat beside you, allowing you to stutter out a greeting as he pulled out his books. a silence settles between you as you start to read more, taking a few notes here and there with scribbles of how to present the information. humming, you turn to jungkook ready to explain an idea, before jumping when you notice how close he is. 

“hey princess,” the boy slurs, his doe eyes sparkling brightly as he looked over at you. you shifted a little away from him, smelling the alcohol from his breath. “you’re so cute.”

you frowned. “jungkook...are you drunk?” 

he blinked with a big smile, leaning over you a bit more and invading your personal space. “needed something to take the edge off before i came here,” the boy mumbled, twirling a finger in your hair “didn’t know if your boyfie with the stick up his ass would be here or not...”

“just get some work done, kook.” you frowned at jungkook, who became increasingly affectionate yet insulting of your boyfriend, the alcohol in his system making him more honest. at some point you’d managed to get him into some work but it wasn’t long until he was bothering you again. 

“YN-ie, you smell so good...” the boy mumbled, throwing his head into the crook of your neck. you felt your body freeze at the closeness, an intimate position that would have once made you flustered to no end. times of heated rendezvous in the backs of study rooms sparking in your mind. jungkook’s lips were inches away from your sweet spot, ghosting along the scopes of your neck with faded familiarity. 

“jungkook...”

“missed having you this close, baby.” 

you held your breath and mentally cursed yourself for letting jungkook get so close, letting your guard down. with a bitten lip, you pried the boy away from your frame, only to be caught off guard when he gripped your wrist and tugged you into him. “kook, you’re drunk...” you tried to reason with him, alarm bells ringing in your head as you tried to tug away from him once again. “please let’s just work yeah?” 

he chuckled, low and deep as he locked his dark eyes with yours and sent a shiver down your spine. “you were always trying to resist me, kitten, bet the only thing holding you back now is your prissy little boyfriend-“

smack.

the sound cracks through the silence of the library and a flurry of shocked gasps followed through with it. holding your hand close to your chest, you looked over at jungkook who stared back at you with equal shock. his own hand cupped his reddened cheek, his mouth slightly agape. 

your bottom lip wobbled as you quickly gathered your things, humiliated at the thought of even hurting jungkook despite what he had said about your boyfriend. blinking away your tears, you stepped back with your bag and shook your head with a whisper. “i’ll finish this in my own...just stay away from me...”

and with that you fled from the scene.

“uh huh, yeah, i think she just got home, alright...later!”

you stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhausted, deciding to march away your tears before you got home to jimin. you watched him approach you as you dumped your belongings onto the table to finish off your project. he wraps his arm around your waist from behind and kisses the back of your neck once near. 

“hey beautiful, project go well?” jimin sighed into your skin as he clung to you, letting you work slightly (but not without kissing that spot near where jungkook had touched you earlier.). you shrugged in response, shivering as you remembered the rest of the day. “seokjin hyung wants to know if you wanna go out tonight, a new bar just opened up and-“ 

you spun quickly in jimin’s arms, praying that he couldn’t read your face like he always did. you’d already had enough gone wrong today. “minnie, i have a quite a bit left to do tonight so could you give me a few hours?” you shrugged his hands off your waist, instantly missing his touch that masked the feel of jungkook’s from earlier. “just, not tonight.” 

your boyfriend frowned, keeping one hand on your waist and the other sifting through his coloured locks. it wasn’t like you to brush him away like that, nor reject a night out with some of your best friends. nonetheless, jimin released you fully and allowed you to slide into your seat and type away. he took a glance over your shoulder to peek at your notes, noticing that not even half the work had been done despite knowing your plans to split the load with your partner. 

he frowned deeper. “what did jungkook do?” your typing paused as an icy chill moved over your body, your boyfriend instantly detecting the change in attitude.

“nothin’.” 

“baby, you know you can’t lie to me.” jimin said sternly, irritation seeping into his tone. you flinched ever so slightly before jimin engulfed you in a soft hug, instantly regretting it. you knew he wasn’t mad at you, but instead what had happened to you. “did that kid hurt you? did he bail on you? did he...touch you?” 

“he was drunk and barely did any work and-“ you whimpered tiredly as jimin held you closer, wanting nothing more to wash jungkook off of you and bask in your boyfriend. “he touched me...and he started insulting you and i-“ you could barely finished, curling into your boyfriend, who only tried to control his angry demeanour. you knew he was pissed and wanted nothing more than to destroy your old friend but all you wanted was for him to take your mind off things. “please just make me forget...” 

you watched with innocent eyes as a dark cloud stormed through jimin, his lips parted as he wet them with his tongue. “what did you say?” 

you felt yourself keen into a submissive stance, falling into the game yourself and jimin played. the slightest of things making him click, ready to move his piece across the board. you let your gaze lock with his, the dullness of submission creeping into your eyes. 

“please make me forget, sir.” 

jimin chuckled lowly, ghosting his finger tips over your supple cheeks and tilting your jaw to make you look up at him. “are you ordering me around, angel?” he hummed, tilting his own head to the side to get a better look at you. “the little attention whore, telling me...what to do? after you let that filthy boy put his hands on you?” 

his words were harsh but spoken with a soft tone and a delicate touch that trickled down to your throat before gripping it lightly and forcing you to stand. jimin backed you into the nearest wall, other hand caging you in. “i’m not your daddy or your jungkook little one, you don’t get to order me around.” 

“yes sir,” you whispered, a small moan starring in the back of your throat. jimin only smirked, releasing your throat as he kissed you lazily. tongues playing togetherness a heated dance. 

excitement tugged at your heartstrings as you bit at his lips, heat pooling between your legs. you wanted nothing more than for jimin to claim you and make you forget everything about jungkook. you only wanted jimin. the man himself let his hot mouth move sloppily from your lips, ascending down your jaw and to your neck. teeth nipping at the sensitive skin where he could show you off as his. 

“i’ll mark you right here, so everyone knows who you belong to, baby.” he hummed, tracing his tongue over each mark before he hauled you over his shoulder and head for your shared bedroom.

placing you down gently, jimin shrugged off his shirt to reveal his toned dancers body from his minor classes, he kissed you once with adoring eyes before kissing a trail down your clothed stomach. “what to do with you, what would help you forget baby?” 

whining as jimin pushed your hips down to stop you from rutting into him. he pushed up your shirt, ghosting his fingertips over your exposed skin. “fingers...hands...” you couldn’t make up your mind as jimin flipped you over, landing on his back with ease. 

“how about face?” he mumbled, pushing your hips over his face to the point where your thighs rested either side of his head. with a tentative touch he pushed your panties to the side, hot tongue drawing a stripe along the length of your heat. wetness gushed from within, causing your boyfriend over moan into your slickness. “your pretty little pussy tastes so good.”

you gripped his hair as your hips moved on their own accord, rutting against jimin’s tongue slipped and slid inside you and over your clit. whining, loudly you pressed your head on the head of your shared bed, loving the feeling of jimin’s hands forcing you forward over his eager mouth. you felt him hesitate at the vibration of your phone from your discarded pants, but your moans urged him on.

“minnie...” you sighed into the air, tossing your head back and ignoring the vibrations again. a harsh slap to your ass, caused you to fall forward on the bed frame. “uh-oh my god!” 

jimin pulled himself from drawing patterns over your clit with his tongue to remind you. “you address me as your fucking master or sir, babygirl, don’t forget your fucking place.” he reprimanded with a pinch to your ass. your phone beeped again. with an impatient growl, jimin yanked your phone from your clothes after pushing you face first over his knees, your head in his lap and your ass in his face. a lazy finger made its way past your entrance with practised ease, your dripping arousal allowing jimin to slide in better. 

you gasped out, breath heavy as he slowly pounded your crying hole with one finger, curling it slightly. like you had been trained to do, you pawed at jimin’s growing erection as you whined. almost begging for permission to touch him. your boyfriend looked down at you with a stoic face as he held your phone with his other hand, dark eyes granting you permission to pull down his clothes and get at his solid length. 

“it’s jungkook.” he stated, adding another finger to the mix, curling and brushing at the spot that made your thighs quiver and essence drip down your legs. “he says he’s sorry, how cute. he wants to make it up to you. wants to see you right now.” jimin’s tone was even and straight, nothing compared to the wobbly whines of ‘please’ and ‘master’. “if only he knew how  beautifully pathetic you looked right now babydoll, drooling over master’s cock.” 

you couldn’t help but whine at the mix of degradation and praise, rolling your hips back into his hand as you  dribbled over his lap, using the slick of your hand to tug at his length. the lavender haired boy chuckled, holding out your phone to unlock before typing away. “maybe he’d like to see...” 

grasping jimin’s, now bare legs, you moaned as he pumped his fingers within your heated core. the simple suggestion had you fluttering around the man’s digits, the thought of jungkook seeing how pathetic you were for jimin and not him. a click of the camera behind you had you pausing, hesitant eyes catching with jimin’s. “you don’t mind if i send him a little something, darling, is that okay?” he asked with a soft tone, returning to your fluffy and bright smiled boyfriend. you only nodded, wiggling your hips as a sign for him to continue. “of course you wouldn’t, dirty girl.” 

instead of granting you such satisfaction, jimin pulled his fingers from your slick heat, smacking them down on your ass cheek heavily as to elicit the long and almost pornographic moan from between your parted lips. “turn around for me doll, i wanna see your pretty face.” jimin mumbled, helping you rotate to sit in his lap once more, bare length brushing up against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. you quivered in your position, letting jimin send off the text to jungkook’s contact. the lavender haired boy set the phone down, locking his dark eyes with yours as he pushed his slick fingers between your lips. “suck.”

you wasted no time cleaning off his fingers, tasting yourself in on your tongue. “tastes good, master.” you simpered, smiling as jimin cooed praises at your work. his other hand traced small patterns down your skin, darting across the small of your back and igniting a fire within. your belly filled with butterflies when jimin pawed at your hips, gently pulling you back and forth against his hardening girth. “feels good too...”

the smirk on your boyfriend’s face had you rutting back against him, jaw running slack as jimin guided you. small gasps escaped his lips as your paces increased, the air between you heating up as your lips met in passionate kisses. tongues swirled as hips moved and lips smacked and moans were made. you couldn’t help but be a little bold as jimin threw his head back, lips trailing down to make your possessive mark on his neck, biting down hard. he was yours and you were ready for him to make you his. 

“we got a text back baby...” jimin moaned as you sucked on his sweet spot, you loved it when he was vocal instead of growling and huffing. he tugged you away slightly, letting you lick over his newfound bruise  to show you the message. 

‘YN..., what’re you doing-?’ 

the text read, but you were too far gone to think of a response an orgasm building up just from rutting against your boyfriend. puffs of air left your lips and jimin chuckled darkly, hinting at you to use your words. “w-what...oh m-what should i say master?” 

thumbing your clit for a second, jimin shifted himself to position his length at your entrance, his cock lubricated with the endless wetness from your heat. whimpering, you eased yourself down onto him with fingers tangled in the wet of his hair from where he had started to sweat. “can i take another picture baby?” jimin mumbled, hands hips settling on your hips as you both adjusted. you only nodded, resting your head on his shoulder to catch your breath. “i need words YN.”

“yes, yes you can.” you agreed  breathlessly, the feeling of being so full sending you into a mindless state. jimin kissed your cheek as he pushed you to sit up, snapping a picture of where your bodies met and sending it off to jungkook.

“good girl.” your boyfriend chuckled, thrusting up into you experimentally, loving how you whines and gripped onto him tighter. 

meanwhile, jungkook could feel himself hardening in the basketball shorts he’d thrown on, the fabric becoming too tight for him to breathe comfortably. his eyes whisked over the text over and over again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard whilst he looked over the image. YN, his YN, back arched perfectly with her mouth open in what would’ve been a soft whimper. he could almost imagine the sound, the feel of her squeezing around his thick length and not his.. not jimin’s. 

‘she’s doing so good for her master, sitting on his cock like a good little slut.’

“fuck.” the boy whispered, carding a hand through his curling locks as he bit his lip. his hand begun to dance down his bare chest to the waistband of his shorts as he thought up a reply. before he knew it, the small dots indicating typing had popped up, a second message coming through.

‘can’t think of a reply? such a shame, i wanted to play daddy.’

the male felt his hips buck up into his hand involuntarily at the pet name, his desire for YN growing at an increasing rate. he wondered if she still felt the same, wet and pulsating around his cock. jungkook moaned slightly, finally allowing himself to lightly fist his length with the precum dripping from its tip. 

clouded by lust he did the unthinkable, only hoping he wasn’t overstepping the boundaries. 

the phone rang loudly as jimin gripped your hips, thrusting up wildly with dark eyes as you matched his pace. mouths wide out open with heavy breaths and the sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating throughout the room. 

you paid no mind whilst jimin’s hand left your hip to fiddle with the device, focusing on the tight knot that was building in your core. you’d buried your face in jimin’s neck not too long ago, enjoying the feeling marking him as yours. your boyfriend tapped your back slightly, signifying for you to lean back and bounce your hips in tune with his. “isn’t she gorgeous?” jimin chuckled, and you faltered.

“fuck, she’s so fucking beautiful...” 

you heard jungkook’s voice emanating from the screen, suddenly aware of what was happening. a facetime call. your boyfriend must of sensed your hesitance, shielding your frame from the camera’s view before kissing you sweetly, eyes asking for permission to continue. you nodded your head, it was nothing you couldn’t handle. jimin smiled brightly, slowly bringing the camera back to you as you regained your composition and pace. all you had to do was please him. 

jimin blinked up at you tenderly, grinning at how beautiful his girl was all for him. knowing that jungkook could only watch and never touch what was his. “why don’t you tell daddy thank you, since he praised you so nicely.” 

you heard yourself and jungkook groan slightly in unison and it pleased you to know how much of an affect you still hand on him. it made you feel powerful. “thank you daddy...” you whined as jimin latched onto one of your nipples to give the latter boy a show and you felt your ego inflate when jungkook let out a soft whimper in response. “are you touching yourself daddy?” 

you managed between breathy moans, jimin making a canvas of your chest and neck as his lips smirked against your skin. his girl, ever the tease. 

“yes baby, fuck...all for you.” jungkook moaned at the view, leaning back to show his large hand wrapped around his pulsing cock, the head burning a bright red with excitement. your centre tingled around your boyfriend’s own length at the image, a lewd noise coming from where you both met as more of your slick gushed out. 

“i bet you’d like it if she was the one pleasuring you, kook,” your boyfriend mumbled, handing you the phone so that he popped into view. reminding jungkook of his presence. “her mouth, her hands...her cute little pussy.” 

you moaned with each word, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, knowing it would spur both men on. “god, please minnie...more!” 

the lavender haired male growled lowly, spanking your ass twice as he rutted into you fast and hard. “that’s master to you.” 

“spank her again, please.” jungkook demanded over the phone, causing jimin to work himself harder against you, the head of his cock hitting that spot that made you collapse on top of him. his palm smacked down against your left cheek again, and then your right with slightly less force. you slumped against him as he used your throbbing, soaking hole, drooling onto his shoulder as his length drilled into you, almost splitting you into two. “fuck that’s it, what a brainless slut.” 

you whimpered, pulling jimin’s hair and scratching at his back so hard you almost broke skin. you could see on the phone, that you were so desperately holding, that jungkook was nearing his high, his hips stuttering as he drove his girth up into his fist. slick sounds of his wet length poured from the phone as you watched with a salivating mouth. “m-master...kook’s gonna cum...” you barely managed, clinging to jimin for dear life as he took you how he wanted. 

“you gonna cum for her kook? cum all over your hand like a horny teenager just for her?” jimin teased. the younger only nodded, too far gone to even control the grunts and moans of your name. “would you cum on her face? let her clean it off with her tongue like the filthy baby she is?”

“shit, YN...feels so fucking good...wanna cum in your pretty little hole...fuck princess.” the raven haired boy whispered, squeezing his length as if it was you clenching around him. you moaned along with him, just to send him over the edge when jimin suddenly pushed you down onto your back, pulling out of you slightly and grabbing the phone from your grip. 

he gently teased your entrance with the head of his cock, not quite slipping in, and not quite pulling out. he flipped the camera to show jungkook your worn out and frazzled state. messy hair and puffy lips. watery eyes and sweaty skin. to jungkook, you looked absolutely beautiful. just like how you did on the days where he’d spend hours ravishing your body. the days when you were his. 

“you see her, jungkook,” jimin mumbled, gently thrusting into you as you sighed. his pace was much slower than before and from over the phone you could see the softness in his eyes. “you see my beautiful YN, she’s mine and no matter what you do, she’ll always be mine. mine to kiss, mine to love, mine to fuck. her heart? it belongs to me. this pussy?” jimin rolled his hips into yours slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him, letting him fill you up to the brim and feel him all the way in your fingertips. “mine. and i want you to remember, after this, she’ll always be thinking of me, moaning for me, cumming for me. it’ll be me. not you. remember that.” 

and with that, your boyfriend cut off the video call, throwing the phone elsewhere on the bed as he collapsed on top of you. your let your legs wrap around his waist as he took you deeper, sensual longing thrusts taking you closer and closer to unraveling the knot. “you’re mine baby, always mine.” he grunted, hips snapping against yours as your fingers tangled into his sweaty locks. 

“im always yours, no one else’s minnie.” you gasped back, throwing your head back for him to kiss at your neck sloppily. he continued on, both of you meeting in a messy dance of lips and limbs, jimin never slowing down as his thrusts lost their rhythm. 

he pressed his face further into your neck after kissing you sweetly, fingers trailing between your bodies to thumb at your clit. “i love you so much, YN, please...cum with me.” 

you locked your gaze with him, eyes full of love and adoration. feeling him twitch within your tight walls, you nodded softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. “i love you even more.” 

jimin pressed his lips to yours, tongue swiping at their entrance to dance with your own as the first few spirts of his seed filled you. the tangled mess of knots in your stomach finally unwinded as your sweetness released onto his cock. white flashed behind your eyes and all you could see was him, feel was him and love was him. nothing and no one could compare to the way jimin made you feel, your juices mixing together as jimin gently thrust into you, mumbling nothing but sweet praises as he kissed you over and over. 

you lay tangled together for a moment or so before your boyfriend pulled his softening cock from the mess between your thighs and rolled off of you, you were left without his warm for only a second before he pulled you into his arms to spoon you. 

you blinked at him, lacing your pinkies as you rested in his embrace. “hi.” you smiled. 

“hi baby,” he grinned back, kissing your nose gently. “are you alright? i didn’t hurt you did i? was i okay?” 

you hushed jimin with a squeeze of his pinky, nearing him as close as you could in his already tight hold. you kissed his cheek before taking it into your palm and rubbing it softly, heart swelling at how he leaned into your touch. “you were amazing, more than okay...perfect, you’re always so good to me, jiminie.” you reassured him. “i love you so much.” 

“you’re always perfect for me...” he added, placing a hand over yours as he gazed at you lovingly. “im sorry for bringing jungkook into this i...i don’t know what came over me.” 

you chuckled slightly, pressing a kiss to one of the many bruises that littered his neck. jimin was always shy after sex, and truth be told it was one of the many things you loved about him. he was always tender with you. even when adding jungkook to the mix he made sure that you were okay with it every step of the way, that was why you were so comfortable going through with it. 

“jimin, my love, i didn’t mind at all, you made me feel so good and loved i didn’t even notice him and besides, he won’t tell anyone, especially after you blue-balled him.” you explained with a smile, nuzzling into your boyfriend not a moment later. jimin giggled in response, kissing your hair as he nodded along with you. 

“well i didn’t want him to see how pretty my baby looks when she cums for me!” the boy whined in a childlike manner, pink lips jutting out in a pout as he hid his face in your neck to hide his blush. you only rolled your eyes in response, heart swelling with love for your boy. you stayed cuddling for a while longer before jimin decided to run you both a hot bath to clean up. 

you spent the night giggling away, with stolen kisses and take out food on the couch, not a care in the world and not a doubt in your mind. you loved park jimin, you were in love with him and nothing could change that. 

not even jeon jungkook, you’d hoped. 

[milkywaydrabbles]

Together we will Live Forever

So this is my first commissioned piece, and the first thing I’m posting on my new Tumblr! I’m hoping to get a lot of prompts and drabble requests along the days but I’ll start with this!!! Hope everyone enjoys!

-

“Here… here! They’re over here!” 

 Sounds muffled, dust flew in their lungs, making it harder to breathe. Their eyes were glossed over, red and puffy. They can hardly remember why they’d been crying. It felt like years since they last saw sunlight, those damn ugly fluorescent lights burning their retinas day in and day out. 

 In reality, it’s only been about six months since the kidnapping. Though, they could be wrong with the time. They never left the basement. They never saw the sun.  But hearing someone else’s — anyone else’s — voice that wasn’t part of the League of Villains was a miracle on its own. But this voice kept getting closer, and sounded more and more desperate with each call. Then multiple voices came. 

 They opened their eyes a bit wider, blinking away the burning sensation that they felt with the strain. Then they saw the faces of the voices. 

  There were heroes here . 

 After so long, after continuous torment and torture and sleepless nights there were finally  heroes . They could have sobbed then, if their throat weren’t so raw from the strain. Physically exhausted, they didn’t even move, just prayed that the heroes would pick them up and take them away from all of this. 

 “Hey, stay with me honey—we’re gonna get you out of here okay?” They heard a female voice speak out. Sounded slightly familiar,  Midnight, they thought. Didn’t matter right now. She reached out to touch them, noticing the immediate reaction was to flinch away and shield themselves with their lacerated arms. The female hero gasped, looking at the dirtied and infected lesions on the skin. 

 “Oh my god,” she gasped again, mostly to herself, before turning around and yelling out again. “ We need a medic! ” 

 They didn’t remember much after that moment, just more seemingly encouraging words amongst the chaos happening around the two of them. Then they nodded. There was a question there somewhere but they didn’t remember what it was. Maybe it was just habitual, with all the times the villains would ask them if they would be good and  heal them .

  Then it was black. 

 The next time they woke was a week later, hooked up to some IV drips in their arms and a breathing tube strung down their nose. Panic rose quickly, knowing the feeling of needles in their veins to keep them  barely alive  all too well. Bile rose with it, biting back the stomach acid that was boiling up their throat was difficult. The only thing that brought them slightly down from the extreme anxiety attack that was seconds away were the bandages that practically held their arms together. That was barely enough to keep them grounded to reality.

  The league would never take the time to make sure the arms were covered . Ever anxious and ever suspicious, their guard was held high. 

 Then a man spoke in the room.

 “You’re awake.” A very obvious observation, but necessary to bring the attention to him. Seemed as if he were there for the entire spectacle. He would have stepped in, if he saw their panic get worse than it was. But this situation was very delicate, he knew this. Six months filled with trauma and pain was enough to send a civilian into a frenzy immediately. Slightly surprised they were able to stop yourself before screaming into the void, he questioned them. “Are you okay?” 

  No, no no no nononono   —

 “Yes… I’m—”

  Hurting, and scared, and always in pain. Not trusting of you, but it hurts so much. Please, please stop the pain please make it go away please help me please please pleasepleaseplease   —

 “—fine.”

 That was a lie. They knew it as well as he did. But he wouldn’t comment on it. Whatever made them feel most comfortable. The man gave them a minute to recollect their thoughts, and calm themselves as best they could before continuing.

  “My name is Aizawa Shouta, hero name Eraserhead. You were rescued a few days ago from the League of Villains.” He paused for a moment, seemingly uncomfortable at the thought. “You are currently in the Musutafu general hospital. Do you… have any recollection of your last six months?” 

  So it was half a year.  They sat there for a moment, reliving every memory their brain brought up. They remembered everything, down to the gut retching stench in the foul basement they were placed in. The details would haunt them. Their face dulled, eyes losing focus. They were being pulled into a pit of darkness as the memories came back. He saw that. 

 Their face twisted into one of pain, feeling the lacerations on their arms throb with the memory. How they were forced to use their quirk, even though it wasn’t nearly strong enough to do what they needed to be done due to malnutrition and lack of sleep. How, day in and day out, there were different thugs brought to them with all kinds of wounds—from some fresh blood still sticking to their flesh, to others who had clearly waited much too long to get it looked at and now had pus mixing with whatever bodily fluid dried and crusted over. 

 They remember how, no matter how many times they yelled and screamed and sobbed, no one came. How their arms at one point felt like they would rip right off, and how they had to switch from injuring their own arms to their legs just to save themselves from mutilating their limbs to the point of amputation. 

 They remembered the mocking tones of all the villains that would come through, and how they would leave them alone only because they were so disgusted with the pools of blood and bits of flesh that were tearing off no one even wanted to be touched. 

 They remembered how those were their favorite days, no matter how much it  hurt .

 “Hey, hey, come back..” His voice was soft, soothing almost. The man— Aizawa   — brought their attention back to reality. 

 “I...remember most of it. I don’t remember getting there...” Their voice cracked before continuing. “But I remember  being  there.”  Being used, over and over and over   —

 His phone rang, breaking their daze again. They flinched away from the sound, he noticed, and turned away to answer. The call was short, with a few grunts of affirmation from the hero and a sigh. He turned back once the call was over. “With your permission, we would like to keep you with some heroes during your healing and interview process. To understand why the League needed you specifically. Do I have your consent?” 

 They nodded, a bit shaken. 

 He, on the other hand, shook his head. “I need verbal confirmation. Do I have your consent to keep you on campus of UA high with professional heroes for however much time is needed for your healing and interviewing process?” He asked again, this time with more detail. Aizawa needed them to understand fully what was at stake. 

 “Yes… Yes, I consent.” They paused for a moment, question dancing on their tongue. “Will you be...one of the heroes there?” They weren’t sure why they asked. They didn’t particularly care, as long as they stopped feeling so scared all the time. This was  a goddamn nightmare . 

 “Yes, I will be with you most of the time.”

 The thought made their stomach settle. 

 -

Days passed in the hospital, heroes came in and out—most of them already knowing who they were. Seemed they would all be interacting with them on campus. Some were more personable than others. Midnight and Present Mic—they learned around the third visit their names were Kayama Nemuri  and Yamada Hizashi—were very chatty. Always trying to make conversation with them. 

 Even though it was rare they replied, rare they would even pay attention. The thought was nice enough for them though, even if they didn’t have it in them to interact. Other heroes like Snipe and Ectoplasm came to introduce themselves, but never stayed long. The air was thick with tension—and they didn’t know how to handle someone with heavy trauma. Usually the professionals didn’t have to stick around to see the aftermath of what happened to the victims who survived whatever they needed saving from. 

 It was finally time to leave, and although they were relieved to be away from the hospital bed, they were scared to go into the unknown. Then Aizawa came through the door, helping settle any of the fears that came into their mind. This made them feel  off   — they had no connection to this hero. There wasn’t a reason in the world to trust him any more than the other pros that had walked into their room.

  But they never felt as safe with anyone else than with Eraserhead. 

 “There’s a car in the front of the building, a dormitory has been set up for you personally. Are you ready?” 

 They stuttered for a moment, grasping onto their arms that have  finally  begun to heal. Then, with a quick and less than audible  yes  they stood in front of the open door. And paused.

 It was hard to step through, fear coursing through their veins. Two weeks in a safer environment than what they had had for six months was difficult to leave. Aizawa waited, more patient than they could ever ask for. Then he stepped through first, keeping the door open for them. 

 “It’s safe, I promise.” They’ve heard so many  promises  it’s hard to tell if this one will be kept. 

They took a step through anyway, breath held in their lungs as they stepped under the door frame and into the hero’s personal space. The world was too big, too unknown, there were too many people walking around, too many faces they didn’t know , too many memories coming back   —

 They felt a hand lightly on their shoulder. Instantly, their arms flew in front of their face in a feeble attempt to shield away from the world and the man’s touch. No words came out of their mouth, just small whimpers and attempts of saying ‘ stop!’ , and so he did. He gave them time, standing off to the side away from their safe haven. He waited for the shaking to stop. 

 “I’m sorry, for touching you..” He apologized, and sounded sincere. They’ve heard  sorry  so much, usually followed with a cackle and absolutely no remorse that they almost felt bad for pushing him away. 

 “It’s...I’m—” There were no words that could possibly tell Aizawa how miserable they felt all the time and they wished they could use their healing quirk on their mental health to  fix it and make this better . Letting out a frustrated sigh and tugging at the roots of their hair, they shook their head. 

 “I’ll follow you.” 

 He nodded, and walked through the corridors slow enough for them to remain as close or as far as they wished without getting lost. They stayed closer to him than he thought they would.

 The car ride was quiet, no words exchanged except a ‘ thank you  ’ for the car door being held open, followed by a quick  ‘you’re welcome ’. They fiddled with the bandages, trying to unravel a piece and look at the flesh underneath. 

 “You should leave those on. From experience, looking at what’s underneath isn’t always comforting.” 

 They paused, and took a quick glance at the man next to them. He hadn’t moved, and still looked forward in the car. They sighed, but ultimately listened. The rest of the ride they kept still.

 -

“This will be your new, temporary home. My room is right across from yours. If you need anything, you can ask.” 

 They nodded in thanks, not letting their lungs grab in their much needed air until they heard the door click behind them. The shock of the last six months hit them all at once, their mental walls crumbling down—along with their legs. They were left at the edge of the room, drained of all energy they had been using even for the short amount of time they had to be a human. Their arms still stung, months of abuse piled on top of each other without reprieve or proper healing, but that was in the back of their mind as they laid on the floor arms wrapped tight around themselves. They didn’t even have the proper energy to cry—not  really . Broken sobs and airy wheezes were all that were heard in the room. 

 What they didn’t know is that the Erasure hero was still in ear shot, the weeping penetrating his thoughts as we walked into his own dormitory. 

 The next morning they woke still on the floor, limbs tucked tightly against each other. It was terribly uncomfortable stretching out, muscles sore from the way they slept on the ground. Their head was pounding, heart racing—they’d forgotten where they were. 

 The panic slowly dissipated when they took another look around the room: It was far too clean, and organized to be the basement of the league. 

  That’s right, UA dorms....  They sighed, slowly standing on wobbling legs to freshen up for the day. At least this was more of a studio apartment rather than a dormitory, with its own bathroom and kitchen. 

 By the time they were done with the as-scalding-as-they-could-manage shower, they changed into whatever generic clothing was given to them for the time being and really looked at their arms for the first time in weeks. Most of the wounds were scabbed over, healing hopefully properly. Some of them, the more infected of the bunch, looked like they still had pus oozing from some of the sides. Mostly clear liquid, so it seemed like the infection was slowly going away. They would have to get it checked out again soon...

 A knock at the door startled them enough to gasp, eyeing the frame wearily. Then a voice rang out.

 “It’s Aizawa.”

 Their heart rate picked up, albeit for  no apparent reason , and went to open the door after removing its many locking mechanisms. Seemed UA knew to take as many precautions as possible, and for that they were grateful. Their eyes locked onto the hero’s, and he looked almost as horrible as they did. 

 Bloodshot eyes, bags underneath telling a story that would have screamed ‘he’s been awake for days’ if they could recite words. They hadn’t noticed what rough shape the pro was in yesterday. They felt almost.. guilty, for being so focused on themselves. 

 Aizawa stayed at the door unmoving until he was invited in. Even with them moving off to the side, as an unspoken invitation, he stayed still.

 “...You can come in.” Even those words sounded so forced. 

 He slowly walked in, bringing a bag and a to-go cup into their view. “I brought you a few things for breakfast, wasn’t sure if you had eaten today or..”  Or at all within the last few months is how he wanted to end it. The unsaid question was louder than the words he murmured. “If you allow us, we’ll be having a recuperating session with Recovery Girl, that doubles as an interview. I’ll be walking with you to the session.” 

 It always astounded them how good with his words he was. If he ever became a villain it’d be very easy to manipulate people with how he chooses his sentences so carefully...

  Stop it!

 People were trying to help them, and here they were thinking the worst. The frustration must have shown on their face since he spoke again. 

 “We can reschedule this for another time.”

 “ No   — ” too forceful, they winced. They tried again, quieter. “... no. It’s okay. I’m... not too hungry.” Somewhat a lie. They were too scared to eat in fear it meant they’d be taken advantage of again, like every other time they needed their energy. 

 In any case, Aizawa held out a plain wrapped bun with a bottle of water.  “At least have this, you look like you’re going to collapse.” 

 They sighed before agreeing.

-

The meeting overall was painless, mostly. Recovery Girl introduced herself with her government name, Chiyo Shuuzenji, before invading their personal space. That took time getting used to. They flinched for each  smooch  that came their way for most of the session. Then, after most of the wounds were noticeably better, not  healed , the questions came. 

 “Now, my dear, what is your quirk exactly? The more detail the better.” 

 They swallowed the first few times they tried to open their mouth, silently thanking Aizawa for giving them that bottled water earlier. After a few more attempts at speaking, they got some words out. 

 “It’s… a healing quirk. I can… I can heal virtually any physical injury. I can get to internal bleeding also. I don’t have to imagine it, I don’t have to touch the specific area… as long as I touch that person, and I just think to myself  heal   — whatever they have that’s physical, I can make it go away.”

  They paused for a moment. They hated being reminded of this part.

 “But I… I get hurt. I get these cuts on me. I can, um, imagine where I  want  the cuts. So they can be anywhere on my body. I try to, um, keep them in the same area to… to uh… make it easier for me.” 

 To make it easier to disinfect one giant spot on their body than a lot of little spots.

 “The bigger the damage I’m healing, the bigger the cuts get. And these last few months...” They didn’t want to continue.

 Without them noticing, their body was going into a state of shock to be able to actually speak about what has happened the last few months. Even just speaking about their own quirk was triggering their body into panic. They began to shake, just a little, and they brushed it off as being cold. They knew better, but hoped that if they continued to talk themselves down from the attack they could just get over it. 

 The questions continued. 

 “When you were with the League of Villains, how often did they make you heal them?” 

 It was getting harder and harder to speak, shallow breaths were picking up. They pressed on, regardless.

 “It was, u-um, almost every day. They kept coming—kept bringing in random people to heal. They pushed me, they kept-kept trying to get me to do more.” Tears were pooling in the corners of their eyes, they tried to blink the salty reaction away. It didn’t work.

 “Then… then they—the Nomu—they were… I was—it couldn’t get better and I kept trying, and, and—” 

 The shaking became violent, and they pressed the heels of their palms into their eye sockets, rubbing viciously—almost as if they were trying to get the thought to  go away

  “Come on, you can do it   —   keep   trying,  ” the white haired one bit out. He was the leader, they learned at some point. They kept trying to heal the monster in front of them. It was missing half an arm and a full eye. 

  It’s been days of nonstop healing on their behalf. No food, barely any water, their energy levels were dangerously low. 

  “I-I can’t, it won’t   —   I can’t!” They cried out, hands shaking clutched onto the mass of arm that was dripping blood. The harder they tried, the deeper the lesions continued to become on their arms. They were almost like claw marks now, dark blood oozing over their own arms. It was hard to tell the difference between their blood and the beast’s. 

  They were healing   —   something  . But it wasn’t enough to actually heal whatever was in front of them. 

  “This is useless,” one with black hair and damaged flesh spoke now. “Just have them heal everyone else before they pass out again.” 

  They wanted to cry, they didn’t want to heal anymore. 

  The white haired brat spoke one last time, “Fucking useless,” and left the scene. Leaving you to heal everyone else with the marred man watching over you.

 They heard their name being spoken, almost yelled, in a frantic voice. 

 “—stay with us,  come back to us! ” The masculine voice tried to reach them, and they gasped out trying to get air back into their lungs. 

 “I’m, I’m sc—I’m  scared! ” 

 The strangled words sounded so  pained  , Aizawa didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t touch them, couldn’t make this any worse. He just wanted them  better . He could only imagine the damage they’ve been dealing with mentally. 

 He spoke their name again, this time quieter—almost trying to convince himself it would be okay.

 “Hey, hey, I’m right here—it’s safe here, with me, look at me—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence before they flung themselves into his grasp. It was the closest thing to them that would make them feel smaller. Aizawa was taken back by their immediate touch. Last time he attempted to do this they pushed him away. Perhaps this trigger was worse than the first, something they  needed  grounding for. 

 The hero wrapped his arms around them, feeling them grasp at the fabric of his clothing as they sobbed into his chest. 

 All he could do to console them was continue to whisper that it was safe there, that he was  there for them , and he would protect them. Eraserhead himself wasn’t entirely sure how many of those were truths, but right now he had to believe it most for their sake. 

 It took a little under a half hour to finally calm them, back to having a pounding head and racing heart just like this morning. 

 The session ended after that.

 -

Days turned into weeks at the school, and the “interviews” were more delicate. Aizawa was there for each one, and after a handful more with Recovery Girl making sure their wounds were only scars now, he conducted them alone. The hero always made sure they were comfortable, only asking more questions when he felt they could handle it. And when he noticed the shaking, he would either take a break or stop altogether.

 That was in the beginning of their one-on-one sessions.

 After two months there for the interviewing process, Aizawa turned into Shouta, taking breaks turned into reassuring hand holds, and stopping turned into much needed time in his arms. They still very much cried, a lot of the memories were more overwhelming than they initially thought.

 But Aizawa— Shouta   — was there. Shouta was always there. And if they couldn’t do a session that night, not mentally prepared for what was to come—he’d always be understanding. He’d never get frustrated, never push for them to speak. 

 They wanted to trust him so badly, with all their heart. They hoped one day, they’d be free of their mental prison.

 The fourth month they were there they began speaking more freely. This time, it was over breakfast. It was a Saturday—Shouta had the day off from teaching. He had cooked for the two of them that morning. 

 “They burned me, once.” 

 He almost dropped his utensil on the ground, startled by the sudden admittance. 

 They pressed on, “They asked, if I… if I could heal myself. I don’t know why. But I said  no , and it’s true. I can’t. It would be a vicious cycle of healing and hurting if I could. But um… the one with the white hair?” 

 “Shigaraki,” Shouta reminded. 

 They nodded in understanding. “Shigaraki, he didn’t believe me. He got the other one with the blue fire—”  Dabi  “—to burn me.” They paused for a moment, lifting their shirt just high enough on their side so he could see the blotchy skin that never fully recovered. 

 He could only imagine what it looked like when they first received it. 

 “When they realized I wasn’t lying, they… called in one of their paid off doctors.”  The pain wasn’t any better , but they kept that information to themselves. 

 Shouta stayed silent for a moment, not knowing how to react. “Thank you for trusting me with this information,” was all he said before returning to their peaceful breakfast. 

 -

That night, after his patrol, Eraserhead couldn’t sleep. He was getting too close to them, he knew. It’s been nonstop attachment on both ends for four months. He understood they needed someone to help them through this counseling, and he was the best for the job at this point. 

 But he was  attached. He could no longer tell the difference between talking them down from a panic attack because they needed it or because he couldn’t breathe seeing them in pain like that. It was selfish on his part, he knew that. He also knew that eventually, they would leave the dorms, go back to their home, and try to assimilate back to their own norm in society. There was a very big possibility that he would never see them again. 

 The thought made him sick to his stomach. 

 Four months of banter, four months of whispered stories and shared secrets. Four months of gentle, fleeting touches. Four months of building a trust that he would never break, not in his life.

 Being the professional hero he is, he even thought about making up some sort of excuse as to why he wouldn’t be able to do this with them anymore. Something along the lines of, “The more people they have to interact with, the easier it’ll be for them to go back to the world.” It sounded nice, in theory—on paper. 

 But would he really be able to do it? Would he really be able to break apart that bond that they had built up so well together? 

 Not in his life. 

 Not that they’d ever allow it. They still had attacks, and night terrors they spoke to Shouta exclusively about. If he ever dumped them on someone else their whole being would be crushed. They would find him and scream at him at least once—and shut down completely. It would be a soul-crushing reminder that the world is a cruel and evil place, and that no one cares about each other—not  really . 

 For their own sake, they would not,  could not , let Shouta go. 

 Eraserhead thought about how he’d be able to disconnect personal from work, when he heard a thud coming from across the hall.

 And then another.

  And then another . 

 His hero instincts kicked in harder than ever before and ran into the hallway with his heart in his throat. He yelled out for them, banging on the door with each call. He heard sobbing, and warned them that he was going inside the room. He wasn’t entirely sure any of his words were getting to them. 

 The lock was broken with a kick to the door, and the sight in front of him was enough to make  him  cry. Their body was hunched over on the ground, head banging against the floor. Their tears were visibly hitting the floor, and the most gut wrenching of it all was and they seemed to still be asleep through this whole nightmare. 

 Shouta moved to their side on the floor, doing his best to lift their head in his hands and rub the tears away with his thumbs. He continued to call their name, giving them a little shake every now and again trying to wake them as gently as he could. When their eyes opened they were strained, vision blurred. He needed to ground them, still in a haze. 

 “Hey, I’m here—can you say my name? Tell me who I am,  please .” 

 Their breathing was heavy still, eyes trying to focus on the body in front of them. 

 “Sh-Shouta,” they hiccuped, grasping at whatever article of clothing they could find. They calmed quickly after that, falling asleep, in his arms. 

  I’m a fool  , he thought,  for thinking I’d ever be able to leave them. 

-

The next week or so, Shouta had been dancing around a question that’s been on his mind. It was ridiculous, completely illogical, but after the last night terror he had witnessed it seemed like the best course of action. Normally they weren’t very perceptive of things happening around them when the hero was around, they felt safe enough to not have to pay attention. But today...

 “Shouta, are you okay?” Their voice was as soft as ever, almost fearful he was going to tell them that this was enough and that they needed to move on with someone else for protection. 

 He nodded, biting the bullet and spilling the question—well, statement really.

 “Live with me?” 

 They paused, eyeing him. He couldn’t tell if they were going to laugh, or cry, or scream, or  run away . His look was blank, as their look was one of shock.

 Then they smiled.

 “That would be nice, please.”

 After that bit of excitement, the rest of the day was dull for both parts. They packed a small bag that had the more important clothing—they  were  right across the hall, as it were. But...it was a nice sentiment from the hero. Their anxiety had kicked in a few times throughout the day, thoughts screaming in their head.

  He’s going to take advantage of you. 

  He wants you for your quirk.

  He’s going to use you.

 They had to shut those thoughts out.

 Shouta came back in between teaching classes and patrolling the streets in the evening. He knocked lightly, this time he didn’t wait for them to let him inside. They had become so comfortable with each other the last few months that it was second nature to always be around their presence. Their arms wrapped around his waist, a hug so light it were as if they were scared he’d disappear. 

 What he didn’t know is that was, in fact, their fear.

 He returned the embrace, firmer, before helping move the small quantity of things they had packed up to his studio apartment-esque dormitory and handed them their own key.

 “If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, please, let me know.” 

 He saw their first, real smile. 

-

They made themselves as comfortable as they could in their new home. Temporary as it may be, it was  home . A safe space for them to be, to exist. It was time for bed now, though they still felt a bit weary trying to sleep knowing that Shouta was still out there being Eraserhead making sure the streets were safe. 

 So they stayed up...

 And stayed up later.

 And eventually, clinging onto themselves in the middle of the bed, heard the familiar click of a door being unlocked and saw the pro hero walk in. They almost smiled, until they saw the condition the hero was in. 

 Their heart dropped.

 “Shouta,” his name was rushed out, and they unwrapped themselves from the sheets and ran to him, stopping short in front of him and hovered. He was stabbed in the arm, it seemed. 

 He shrugged, peeling off the capture scarf that he always had wrapped around his neck. 

 “It’s fine, I just need some peroxide.” His voice and breathing was so even it should have made them feel better about the situation. There was no panic, no real pain, he would be okay.

 But it wasn’t enough for them.

 “Shouta, please, please let me—”

 “ No .” That was the first time he was ever forceful with them.

 They flinched, having to tell themselves over and over again that he wasn’t mad at them, that he wasn’t yelling because they did something wrong, that he wasn’t going to throw them out.

 He saw the immediate shift and sighed. He realized now how it could have come across. He called their name.

 “Please, you have overused your quirk for so long. This is nothing, just a flesh wound. Please...please don’t.” His voice was at a whisper.

 Their anxiety wanted to flare up again, so much. It was yelling in their head again, that he was a liar and that this was the way to get close and  use them, use them, use them!

 He was going to walk away to go clean up, and they moved without thinking. They had to help him, they had to at least give him  something  as thanks for the last few months. Their hands reached up to his face, caressing him. Eyes closed, the deep wound he once had on his arm slowly stitched itself together, patching up like nothing had happened. It felt slightly uncomfortable for him, now able to physically feel the healing process at an accelerated rate. But after mere seconds, the wound was gone. Nothing was left except the rip in his clothing. 

 And then their wound came.

 It wasn’t as deep or as large as his, but very much visible on your arm. The blood oozed from the lesion that was created, dripping down their arm. They sighed, taking the pain as best they could before releasing the hero in front of them. 

 The two stood in silence for what felt like hours, a mixture of astonishment and disappointment written all over his face. They didn’t know how to react, and decided maybe it  was  for the best if they..left. 

 Not that he would let them.

 He sighed, grabbing a hold of their hand like fine china and brought them over to the first aid in his— their —bathroom. 

 “That was irresponsible, you know.” There was no malice in his voice. 

 He worked silently, dabbing peroxide as gently as he could onto the wound and wrapping it neatly with gauze. It was finished up within a matter of minutes, and by the time he looked up their eyes were red and puffy, sniffling away—they were crying.

 “Did I hurt you? Why didn’t you say anything?” He questioned, his turn to caress their cheeks. 

 They shook their head while rubbing away the stray tears. 

 “I just—” a hiccup “—I just want to say thank you,  somehow .” The weeping became louder, no longer able to hold back.

 “You have done so much for me, Shouta—too much. I’m always fucking scared, so anxious all the time. I  cry  all the time, I’m waking up in the middle of the night screaming. And you’re always there! You never complain, you never push me away. I don’t know if this is sympathy or guilt or, or—” 

 The rest of their words became jumbled in a mess of sobs and heavy breaths, trying to stay afloat in their mind. 

 They felt something on their forehead. 

 Shouta dropped his forehead onto theirs, hands moving from their face to caress their back. Their breathing hitched, still sniffling but attempting to keep it under control.

 “You are  not  a burden. You were never a burden. Never to me. Getting to know you has been one of the best things that has happened in my life in a very long time, never think otherwise.” His voice was stern, but sure. No waver in his tone, they could tell he was serious and truthful. 

 Their now shaky hands were pressed on his broad shoulders, grounding themselves. 

 “ Why?”

 It was a loaded question, they both knew it. Why keep them around? Why were they so special to him? Why did he take so much time even after the physical healing to help them? Why didn’t he go back to his normal routine? Why did he ask them to live with him? 

  Why, why why —

 “Because it seems I have fallen in love with you.”

 The rest of the night seemed like a blur, heavy emotions swirling in the atmosphere. There were more tears, on both parts. Confessions were spoken aloud. Bodies melded together on the sheets of their bed. One last  I love you  whispered in between shared, secretive kisses before finding sleep deep within the night.

 -

It had been now seven months since showing up to UA, three months since they and Shouta had started a relationship together. Their mental stability had gotten stronger, and it seemed like the League of Villains had fallen deeper underground with little to no activity. They were finally in a safe place, able to go home without fear or repercussions. 

 Except they didn’t want to go.

 And if Aizawa were being honest with himself, he didn’t want that either. But he understood that it was a necessary push for them to be free of the mental barrier they had placed on themselves. As long as they were  here , in this school, they would be constantly reminded of the reason they felt so trapped. He needed to push them out to the world, just a touch, so they could become better for themselves. 

 The two stood uncomfortably by the gates of the school, all of their personal belongings, and whatever they wanted to keep that was given to them by the school, packed up. It seemed like a painful goodbye, spending all this time together with the heros and teachers, and eventually students, that they wouldn’t see everyday anymore. An even more painful goodbye to the man they found themselves loving more and more each day. Now that they wouldn’t be a constant in his home, he could easily forget about them. He could replace them with someone not so broken, someone who wasn’t as panicky, someone who he didn’t have to  babysit . 

 “You’re thinking too much.” He broke the silence, and dissipated their doubts, if only by a little bit.

 Aizawa grabbed them, just as delicate as any other time he ever held them, and pressed a chaste kiss to their forehead. 

 “You’ll be alright. You’ve gotten stronger in the last few months. You can do this, you know you can.”

 They let out a shaky breath, nodding in agreement.

-

A month had passed since their departure from UA. The dormitories were missed, but their home was missed more than they thought possible. They spent most of their days cleaning up the place, and getting used to going back out into the world. Sometimes they’d still jump at the shadows. Other times they’d still wake up to the sound of their own screaming. 

 Other times, they’d feel the weight of the world lifted from their shoulders when a certain someone would remind them that they were doing something thought impossible in the beginning. They were  alive , learning how to live again. They started to smile more genuinely, more often.

 -

Tonight marked a month and fifteen days after leaving, and it was the first time Shouta would enter their home. It took a lot of mental preparing, he knew, for them to finally share the piece of their first life with him. This was now solidifying the trust they had been building over the course of the year.  They would have a normal dinner date together.

 He managed to squeeze himself out of the patrol he originally had thanks to a certain loud friend of his, and made it on time awkwardly holding a  bottle of wine with a name neither of them could pronounce. He seemed so out of place at the door, and when they broke into laughter, all the tension was lifted from the scene. He smiled, the feeling reaching his eyes. 

 “Thank you,” he paused.  For trusting me. For believing in my words. For letting me learn about you. For not shutting me out when I pushed you too hard.  “For inviting me tonight.” 

 They smiled with a shake of their head, and led him deeper into their safe place--towards the dining room. “No, Shouta, thank  you  ,”  For being patient. For teaching me how to love myself.  For showing me I had the strength to overcome this. For reminding me that I’ll be okay.  “For taking the time to come.”

 The night was long, and filled with smiles and quiet laughs and shared secrets. The bottle of wine was empty by the end. Now, with their bellies full, the long day had come to an end and with their blessing, Shouta would be staying the night. Somehow, in their inebriated stupor, they had managed to wash up for the late evening and head off to bed. 

 The two of them stayed awake for a while longer to talk about whatever came to mind. They let out a yawn mid sentence. 

 “You feel okay?” More of a way for Shouta to see if they’d like to go to sleep.

 They gazed at him, hoping that he could see every ounce of adoration and respect they had for him. They thought about the last eight months of their life, how it started off so broken and terrifying. They thought about how the man in their bed started off as a stranger that couldn’t even  touch them , that the mere thought of him being too close made them want to claw at their eyes and peel away their skin. 

 They thought about the moments they wanted to take their own life, how they eventually shared those secrets with him. They thought about the times they didn’t say anything at all. 

 Then they thought about how over the months they grew, how they became better. How the once-stranger turned into a friend, and eventually, a lover. How he had always been there as an anchor, never overstepping any boundaries and giving them the space they needed whenever they felt unsafe, even from him. 

 How they learned to cope with the trauma, and learned to manage their panic disorder that was still very much with them due to post traumatic stress. 

 They thought about how, even though it was a hard and heavy process, they would be okay. That they had survived through hell and came back from it.

  Shouta waited, as the gears turned in their head. He knew they were thinking too much, but this time it felt different. When their eyes unfocused the smile on their lips grew, though it was subtle. He let them be; patient as always.

 “I’m fine.”

 They were still growing, still finding themselves in this terrifying world. But they were managing all the same. They were mending themselves, with some help along the way. No matter how slow the process was, they were healing.

 They’d be fine.

[buckyskorpion]

tess brain go hnnnnnnngh

hello this is only thing ive written in like a week and its for a new fic im SORRY but i thought i would post it anyway bc i have nothing else to offer hehe. it’s the beginning of my fic for laur’s writing challenge and boy oh boy has this morphed into it’s own beast. under the cut for those who dont care

“You know she’s not going to be happy about this,” Sam says.

“She’s never happy about anything,” Bucky replies. He flicks at a photograph pinned to your corkboard, your arm around some guy kissing your temple while you grin at the camera. There’s a bunch of photos just like it with the same dude; receding hairline, squinty blue eyes, tall but skinny in a vaguely malnourished way. One photo from what looks like a Halloween party catches his interest. You have a cardboard sign hanging over your shoulders to look like a square from the periodic table, and it reads ‘AH! The element of surprise’. Nerds, Bucky thinks with a scowl, and turns away from the corkboard.

Your office is nothing like he thought it would be, and that aggravates him. It’s hardly surprising - most things about you aggravate him. You have statues of Star Wars characters on your desk, a dying pot plant in the corner, books on quantum mechanics and Deutsch propositions left open and scribbled in on the coffee table. There’s too much personality left carelessly lying around, and none of it is yours. Bucky can’t wait to get the hell out of here.

Sharon walks in first, closing the door softly behind her and shoots them both a grimace. “She’s coming, but, uh- she’s not happy about this.”

“See?” Sam says, gesturing to Sharon as if she’s proving his point when Bucky agreed with him. He turns to face Sam lounging in the armchair on the other end of the room and flicks him the finger.

“Let’s try and contain this situation, shall we?” Sharon says. She’s nervous, Bucky notes, moving to stand in the middle of the room and smoothing down non-existent creases in her slacks. She refuses to look at Bucky, and that gives him a bad feeling. “Just listen to her yell for a bit. Bucky - let us do the talking, ok?”

Sharon is still not looking at him. Bucky nods instead of replying, baiting her to glance over, which she does. She trains her eyes on his nose and gives him a frankly insulting smile of recognition, immediately turning back to the door as her face drops. Bucky’s bad feeling intensifies.

Before he can try and figure out why one of the best Agents of SHIELD and former CIA operative can’t seem to pretend everything is fine, the door to the office slams open. It bounces back, smacks you in the shoulder as you storm into the room, and you push it back again with an aggravated shout. Sam rolls his lips together to smother his laugh but Bucky doesn’t bother. You turn a murderous glare onto him, and the shouting begins.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You march up to Sharon and jab a finger in her chest, forcing her back a step. “You gave me this job, why the hell are you coming in here fucking it all up?”

“We have some new developments,” Sharon says, keeping her voice even like she’s trying to placate a feral dog. It does not have the desired effect.

“Ever thought of picking up the phone?” you shout, throwing your hands wide. “Sending a text? A letter? A carrier pigeon? Anything but showing up to my six month long deep cover mission with two of the most recognisable faces on the fucking planet! Really, Sharon? Captain America?”

“She’s right, y’know,” Sam says, smiling through Sharon’s warning glare. “My face is pretty unforgettable.”

“It’s good to see you, Sam” you say, gritting your teeth like it physically pains you to derail your tirade for some niceties. “You should’ve left Barnes at home.”

“I offered to stay in the car,” Bucky says. He smiles, all teeth, and you poke your tongue out at him.

“Do you know how difficult it has been to be stuck here playing dumb with this bunch of incels for six fucking months?” You say, spinning away from Sharon now to open the small fridge in the corner. You pull out one of those mini bottles of whiskey and down half of it, baring your teeth at the sting. “Please don’t make it all for nothing or I will kill you all, and then myself.”

“The timeline has moved up,” Sharon says. She shakes her head when you offer her the rest of your whiskey and you shrug, chugging the remaining half. Sam makes an offended noise and you grab another one, chucking it towards him as he makes grabby hands. Bucky doesn’t even bother asking.

“That’s funny, because as far as I remember it’s me who sets the timeline,” you say. “And I say it’s staying exactly the fucking same.”

“Look, I know this has been a rough mission-“

“Rough? I am watching a bunch of psychopathic virgins reinvent time travel at a snails pace whilst entertaining their neo-nazi purist ideals and I haven’t been able to physically hurt any of them? Rough is an understatement.” you say.

“Sounds terrible,” Bucky says with an eye roll. Everyone in the room turns to glare at him.

“I’d like to see you spend one day with these scumbags,” you seethe, stepping forward with your teeth bared.

“Something tells me it can’t be any worse than having my brain fried by Nazi’s, sweetheart,” Bucky says. You hate when he condescends you like that, and Bucky knows it. You make to throw the empty mini-whiskey bottle at him but Sharon steps in-between you two, holding her hands up with a disappointed frown.

“Bucky, you were supposed to leave the talking to us,” Sharon says. She turns to you and adds, “And you would do well to remember that I’m your boss, agent. I give the orders.”

“Aw, let them fight,” Sam says from the armchair. “It’ll be fun.”

“Enough,” Sharon says. She claps her hands together to regain control of the room, but it’s tenuous. To you, she says, “We need you to speed up __________’s research. Find a way, I don’t care how, but in a month they need to figure out Stark’s theory of time travel.”

“Excuse me?” You glance between Sharon, Sam, and Bucky like someone can offer an explanation but no one does. Incredulously, you say, “I’ve been here slowing them down so they don’t figure it out, and now you want me to- speed them along? Give them the answer?”

“Yes,” Sharon says. Her eyes are saying something else to only you and Bucky aches to know what it is. “Sam and Bucky have come across some new intel that requires the _____ to finish their machine. We need you to help them get there in one month’s time.”

“Am I allowed to know this new, game-changing intel?” you ask. There’s a muscle ticking in your jaw that looks set to explode any second.

“Only that there is someone who is very interested in buying into what the ________ come up with,” Sharon says. “When you’ve completed your mission, you will be fully briefed.”

“Oh, great,” you say with an eyeroll. “I love ambiguity.”

“You’re a spy,” Sam says, staring at you. “That’s literally your entire life.”

“Can we focus?” Sharon asks, shooting Sam a warning glare to which he holds his hands up in a Gesture of innocence. To you, she asks, “Do you understand your mission?”

“No,” you say simply, turning away from Sam to have a silent conversation with Sharon that involves a lot of eyebrow movements. Softly, as if no one else in the room can hear you, you say, “You know why I can’t let them figure it out.”

Sam and Bucky share a look while the two spies in the room have some kind of telepathic argument. It doesn’t seem to last long. Once again, the bad feeling in Bucky’s gut returns when you look to the floor and don’t make eye-contact with any of them again. As per usual in Bucky’s life there are things left unsaid, omitted by silence, and he itches to know what has your shoulders rounding and the fight you always fling around like confetti, dying out as quickly as it flared up.

“The goal remains the same,” Sharon says, “but as I said, the timeline has changed. We will see you in a month or so, agent.”

“I guess you will,” you say. Sam claps you on the shoulder as he walks out and Sharon hands you a dossier with your new mission parameters. Bucky always feels awkward with goodbyes, especially with people he doesn’t particularly like and who don’t like him in return. You glare at your toes and say, “Don’t even think about touching me, Barnes.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks past you and adds, “Don’t fuck it up.”

“You’ll know if I do,” you bite back, just as the door closes behind him. Your words follow him down the hall, past the laboratories blinking with dull red security lights and the fire exit door they left chocked open when they broke in. He doesn’t like the way that sits in his brain. It clunks around, tinkering with things he’d rather leave untouched.

Spies, Bucky thinks. They always find a way to get inside his head.

[hollandroos]

Before I Go | Peter P X Stark!Reader

Summary: Inspired by this blurb I wrote last week. Tony Stark was always putting himself in harm's way but one day things finally go too far. It’s a good thing Peter is there to hold you up back, right? Wrong.

Words: 1205

Warnings: Death, angst. 

Listen to ‘Listen Before I Go’ By Billie Eilish while reading this, thank you!

Everything went grey when you lost him. And you hated grey. It was sad, bland and there were a hundred other – better colours.

It was as if there was colour one second, from the brown with hints of green that adorned Peters eyes and the traces of blue in his suit to the red of the shirt you gave your dad for father's day last year. Then there were the green sneakers he gave you when you were fourteen that were scuffed and ripped but you refused to throw out. You loved those sneakers.

Then there was grey. Ugly, dark and dreary grey. It was the colour of the sky on a rainy day that kept you pent up inside and the top of the desks at midtown high that you hated. Each to their own – they held unique doodles and gum that ranged from two days old to 6 months.

Your screams couldn’t echo in space – at least you didn’t think they could but you hadn’t thought too hard about it while fighting for the fate of humanity. Still, everyone heard. It was piercing. Heart-wrenching.

Steve heard and his heart plummeted in his chest. It landed in empty, shattered pieces across what could be gravel. Thor heard. Without a doubt, he heard and he dropped his hammer, making it fall with a heavy thud that shook the very core of whatever planet you had been fighting on. And Peter heard because he was the one next to you when it happened, holding you back from losing your own life to the mad titan the same way your father just had

You watched the life leave his lips with one last breath and the gentle pink of his cheeks fade into nothing.

If you’ve ever seen the life leave someone then you already know what happens next. The picture becomes almost engraved in the darkest parts of your mind, little parts of it remaining more vivid than others and for you, it was easily watching his deep brown eyes, the same colour of the coffee he consumed excessively become nothing more then lifeless orbs. You’d seen your father empty before, like when Pepper left him for the first time and the day he clambered home from his fight with Steve but this was something else.  

It was enough to rip your heart from your chest.

“Peter, let me go. Let me go to him.” You begged through ugly sobs. He winced at how scratchy and desperate your voice sounded – like you were running out of air, but instead of air, it was your desire to keep up the fight.

Peter swallows, waiting for Tony to move– to somehow come back to life but it won’t happen. Not ever, because he’d seen the older mans neck snap. He’d heard the snap and he swore he felt it too. He felt the ground ripple beneath him when it happened and maybe nothing would ever be the same. That sickening fucking snap would be the source of all of his nightmares for god knows how long. It would ring louder then any David Bowie song he could play on his iPhone and taste worse then any broccoli May could try and force him to eat at dinner.

In his arms, you struggle and fight against him like he was the enemy. You kick and hit and through teary eyes you curse. And Peter would admit that it hurt– not your fighting but the fact that he swore he could feel your heart shattering more with every empty second that passed.

“I can’t… please, Y/N, I can’t.” He struggles, watching the others take down the titan that’d taken the life of their beloved but with a rage larger then life itself.

Peter wanted to be out there too, but if Tony Stark couldn’t defeat him then neither could Peter, he could admit that now. Peter would probably stumble up on his own two feet or struggle to see through glazed over eyes. He’d lose his own life and he couldn’t – not when he’d promised May that he’d come home.

For the first time in a while, Peter was able to admit that he was still a kid, and the struggling girl in his arms was the same. He holds onto you like his life depended on it which it probably did. However, the suit that clings to your body is a brutal reminder that you can fight for yourself but Peter couldn’t have you getting killed too. Not now. Maybe it was selfish – maybe he was just keeping you alive.

Keeping you alive – because he couldn’t keep the other Stark alive.

Maybe he was keeping the promise he made Tony the last time he almost died.

“God fucking dammit, Pete! Let me go.” You screech with so much might. Your throat aches. It burns with so much rage and sadness and desperation. Peter feels all of it – though maybe that’s just his own.

And as the seconds ticked by, the tightening in your throat increased and you needed an escape. The elastic, emerald green suit had never been so suffocating. You had never wanted to tear the thing from your body as much as you did then.

“I can’t do that, baby.” He says softly, choking back the hurt.

You’re seeing grey. It’s envelopes your vision. Your brain. Clouding your heart.

Endless thoughts are consumed with getting to your dad because he looks alone and he hated being alone, despite him never admitting it but you knew because you hated being alone too. It was a Stark thing. Maybe that’s why you say what you do next, spitting the harsh words between salty lips.

“I hate you, let me go!”

I hate you.

But you could never hate him.

He hates himself.

“I can’t.” The words are forced, surely more gentle then he had initially anticipated and there’s only a dull chance you heard.

And over the ringing of your ears, you didn’t.

Peter had held you plenty of times before. There was the time he held you in the back of the school library when you both had a free period and you were drifting off in his arms after three days without sleep. Then there was the time he snuck into your room without your dad's knowledge and wrapped himself up in between cotton sheets. How could you nearly forget the time you got snowed in at his apartment and had to stay the night in his tiny bed built for merely one body?

But this time was different because Peter had never held you back before. He’d always encouraged you to leap into the unknown and explore your abilities and skills but now he held you back – he held you back from ripping the head off of the mad Titan and he held you back from avenging your father's death. For the first time ever, his grip felt suffocating. 

Peters arms no longer felt safe. It was the one place you had always felt safe and now? Nothing.

You feel hollow.

Sorry can't save me now Sorry I don't know how Sorry there's no way out

Part 2

Let me know if you enjoyed it!

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[atths--twice]

AHHHHH!!! Here we go!!

The Ninth Month 6f/6

Chapter Six 

The Time Has Arrived 

This is it! It’s time! Time to welcome the new baby into the world!

“Time to push, Dana. You ready?” Elise said with a smile and Scully felt her heart pound.

This was it. It was time.

In a flurry of activity, there were more people in the room than there had been all day. Nurses, equipment, and noises. Another contraction and she paid them no mind.

“I need to push,” she said, trying to sit up.

“Wait, Dana. Not yet, breathe through this one. Fox, help her. Stay by her and talk to her.”

She fell back and took deep breaths as she closed her eyes. She felt Mulder take her hand. She squeezed hard and heard him murmuring to her. She did not know what he was saying as she could only hear his voice.

When the contraction passed, she relaxed back into the bed and tried to catch her breath. Mulder pushed her hair back and she looked at him. She saw the worry on his face and she squeezed his hand again. Three times. Their code: I love you, I’m okay.

“Okay, Dana. On the next contraction, you’re going to push. Fox, I want you to help hold her leg and Karla will help to hold the other. Dana? Dana, on the next contraction, okay? You’re going to push for ten seconds, breathe, ten more seconds, breathe, ten more seconds. Okay?” Elise said over the other noise collecting in the room and Scully nodded.

The bed was situated into a better sitting position, the stirrups came out and her legs were placed in them. Mulder and Karla took their places by her side. Scully looked at Mulder and he nodded. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, praying for strength and the ability to get this done. She felt a contraction and she took a deep breath.

“Here we go, Dana. Push!”

She pushed with Mulder and Karla helping her hold her legs. She heard someone counting and then telling her to breathe. Then to push, the counting and to breathe. Once more she did this and then she collapsed back.

“Good, Dana. Good start. Next contraction and we’re going to do it again. Rest for a minute.”

She did as told and looked at Mulder again. His face was white but determined. He brushed her hair back again, bent down, and put his mouth by her ear.

“I love you,” he whispered. When he stood up again, he had tears in his eyes. Her eyes fell on the clock. 11:50. Another contraction and she pushed again.

Her focus became only on pushing with a rest in between. She thought of nothing else but pushing out this baby so she could be done with this pain. Worry and stress and pain, would all be worth it when she saw the baby trying to make its way out of her body.

Her body was tired, but Mulder and Karla did not stop holding onto her even when she felt like stopping. She concentrated on Mulder’s voice telling her to push, to breathe, and then to relax.

Her contractions felt like they were right on top of each other and she was constantly pushing. Elise told her to stop for a minute and she fell back, so tired.

“Okay, you ready? Here we go! Push!”

She did, feeling it differently than it had been. She was getting closer to the end. She felt the baby so close and she pushed harder.

“Okay, I see the head. You’re doing a great job, Dana. You’re going to push and we’re gonna get this baby out. Here we go. Push!” Elise said, as Mulder held her hand and squeezed.

She pushed harder than before and she felt it. Felt the head come out. Jesus Christ, it hurt. Elise said to stop again as she suctioned out the baby’s mouth and nose.

“We got a lot of dark hair here. Okay, Dana. Push!”

She grabbed her knees and helped to hold her legs as she pushed, knowing she was so close. She could hear Mulder saying her name over and over, his grip on her leg tight. She felt it again as the shoulders slipped through and then, Elise was laying the baby on her chest.

She could not see through her tears but she could feel the tiny body now moving on hers instead of inside of it. She felt a hand on her face and knew Mulder was wiping her tears. A second later, the baby began to cry and she joined in, Mulder’s breath was warm against her neck as he cried with them.

Someone was opening her gown to put the baby directly on her skin. The crying grew louder and Mulder raised his head from her neck. She tried to control her tears as she looked at him and then the little dark head on her chest. Glancing up at Elise and then the baby, she asked a silent question and Elise nodded with tears in her eyes.

“It’s a girl.”

Scully held her tighter and she cried harder. Karla laid a blanket over the baby and began to rub her, warming her and wiping her clean.

Mulder’s hand appeared on top of the baby’s head and then his head was on Scully’s chest by the baby’s. She could feel his tears on her skin and she whispered his name, as the baby cried again. Scully kissed her head and murmured to her and she calmed down, almost pushing toward the sound of her voice. Scully cried harder and she kissed her again.

Scully heard Elise telling Mulder it was time to cut the cord. He stood up dazedly and looked at Scully, kissing her and the baby before he went to the doctor.

Karla was working on the baby, checking if she was doing okay, doing the assessment that was needed. Scully was staring at the baby’s face and memorizing everything about her: her dark hair, perfect eyebrows, and chubby cheeks. She was beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

Mulder was back and he knelt by the bed again. She looked at him and he shook his head. He stroked the baby’s head with two fingers so lightly, it made Scully’s heart ache. Karla put a little pink cap on her head and made sure the blanket was covering her. She rubbed Scully’s arm and smiled at her. She then placed a hospital band around her wrist, the baby’s and then Mulder's.

Scully turned her attention back to the baby. This perfect little person she had pushed from her body. The one who rolled inside her in the tub, who demanded grape juice, and who seemed to settle when Mulder would speak to her belly. She looked at her and she sobbed.

She shifted her a bit so she could see her clearer. Mulder was whispering to her, telling her how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, and how he had been waiting to meet her. Scully leaned her head against his as they looked at her together. He stroked her head and kissed it before he kissed Scully’s forehead.

“You did it, honey. I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his head again by her neck.

The baby started to move around, searching with her little mouth. Scully laughed and pulled her gown down farther, exposing her left breast. She moved the baby toward her nipple and she latched on almost immediately.

“Good,” Karla said, watching Scully feed her. “She’s figured it out on her own. You may have trouble later, but she seems like she is doing great. You’re doing a great job too, Mom.” Karla smiled at her and continued helping the doctor.

Mulder ran his finger across the baby’s head and then down her nose as she suckled. Scully heard him sigh and she looked at him.

“I think she has my nose.. the poor thing,” he said and everyone in the room laughed.

Scully stared at her and shook her head. She was perfect and amazing and.. yeah..she definitely had Mulder’s nose. She looked at him and he nodded.

“You see it too,” he said as he touched it again.

“I like your nose,” she said as she watched him do it.

The baby scrunched up her face and he stopped.

“Aw, look at her. Telling you to stop annoying her already,” Scully said, laughing at his expression.

The baby unlatched and Scully moved her a little further up her chest, closer to her neck. She rested her head against hers and closed her eyes. The baby settled easily as she felt the beat of Scully’s heart underneath her. Scully covered her more and closed her eyes again.

Then her eyes flew open. She looked at Mulder, who had his hand on the baby’s back and was rubbing softly.

“What time was she born?” she asked him, her eyes wide. He shook his head as he stared at her.

They both looked at the clock. It was 12:42. They turned their eyes to Elise and she smiled.

“She was born at 12:13. You got your Halloween baby, Fox.”

They all chuckled and then her focus was on the baby again. She was asleep. It was hard work being born.

Scully looked at Elise again, watching her as she watched the baby, and she smiled at her.

“You did a wonderful job, Dana. We need to have the baby weighed and measured. We can do that here or in the nursery, completely up to you. Karla will take care of that, while I take care of you,” Elise said to her.

“I’d like everything that’s possible done in here,” she told Elise and Karla.

“Not a problem,” Elise said.

Karla came over and took the baby carefully from her, keeping her wrapped up as she did. Scully looked at Mulder and he nodded. He walked around the doctor and stood by Karla while she took care of the baby.

“Dana,” Elise said, getting her attention. “I had Karla give you some pitocin in your IV. It will help to shrink your uterus, minimize your bleeding, and help with the delivery of the placenta. It’s time to push it out now. A couple of pushes and it should be out, okay?”

Scully nodded and she focused her attention on pushing. It was nothing like the baby, but it was still uncomfortable.

“There we go, it’s out. I’m going to check it and then you’re going to need a few stitches,” Elise said, getting to work.

Scully closed her eyes as she lay there, waiting to be alone with Mulder and the baby. She could hear him asking questions and she smiled. They had a healthy baby. She had a baby. Fifty four and she had a baby.

Now that it was done, she felt the pain as her adrenaline slowed down. Oh.. she was sore. Elise stitched her up and then finished what she was doing. She moved Scully's legs from the stirrups and gently laid them down. Scully felt pain, but was happy to finally have her away from that area of her body.

Elise came closer to her and touched her arm. Scully opened her eyes and looked at her.

“Great job. She’s beautiful,” she whispered before heading over to speak to Mulder and then leaving the room.

Scully closed her eyes again, feeling like she went from sitting on the couch to sprinting through a marathon. She was so tired.

Mulder was still over by the baby and she opened her eyes to watch him as he looked at her. He was enraptured with her. Staring at her as Karla did what needed doing. She wrapped her up and she handed her to Mulder.

“A little baby burrito for you, Dad,” Karla said as watched him hold her.

He looked at Scully and he had tears in his eyes. He walked over by her and sat in the chair. He kept his eyes on the baby, his eyes traveling across her face.

“She’s so beautiful, Scully. So beautiful." He started to hand her to Scully and she stopped him.

“You hold her,” she said, smiling at him. He smiled back and sat back in the chair.

She watched him again and Karla came over to see how she was doing and if she needed anything.

“I need some pain medication, for sure. An ice pack, or a thousand.. definitely. Some water. Orange juice? Oh, I’m starving. Any chance for some food?” Scully asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought of food. Karla laughed and said she would see about some food, but the rest she could do. She left and promised to be back in a few minutes.

They were finally alone, just the three of them.

“So, how much did she weigh?” she asked as Mulder kept watching her.

“Seven and a half pounds, twenty inches long. She has eye ointment in her eyes to stop infections? I don’t remember what she said,” Mulder said, stroking the baby’s cheek. “We have a baby, Scully.” He looked up at her and he grinned.

She smiled and laughed softly. “That we do, Mulder. That we do.”

She moved a little and moaned. He stared at her, worry on his face.

“I’m okay. Just, that was a roller coaster of a ride my body just went on. I’m very sore,” she said, finding a better position.

“You were amazing, Scully. Truly amazing,” he said, staring at her and smiling.

She smiled back and the door opened. Karla brought in the pain medication, ice pack, water, orange juice, Jell-O, and a few bags of pretzels and chips.

“The kitchen is not open right now, but the cafeteria is if you wanted to head down there and see if there is something better than this stuff,” she said, looking at Mulder, as she handed Scully the medication.

“This is fine for now, thank you so much,” Scully said, placing the ice pack under the covers, and sighing when it touched the sore areas of her body.

She took the ibuprofen, draining the small orange juice down in a few gulps. She opened a bag of pretzels and ate a couple.

“Did you want to have the baby in here tonight or do you want me to take her to the nursery?”

“I want her with us,” Scully said, glancing at the baby.

“I’ll go get a bassinet. Be right back,” Karla said as she walked out.

They were quiet until Karla came back. She set the bassinet by the bed. Diapers, wipes, and blankets were inside. She told them the couch across the room pulled out to be a little wider bed. She went out and brought back some blankets and pillows for Mulder and then she left.

Mulder got up and put the baby in the bassinet. He turned around and came over to Scully. He leaned over the bed and kissed her, pressing his forehead against hers, whispering how much he loved her. She closed her eyes and nodded.

He stepped back and walked over to the baby again. God, she felt so tired. She asked Mulder to help with the bed. To lay it down a little and she shifted to her side. She seethed with the pain, breathing through it.

She asked Mulder for some water and he brought it to her. She drank it down and closed her eyes.

She opened them and Karla was standing next to her. Mulder was asleep. He was sitting up on the couch, fully clothed, no blankets covering him, his hand on the bassinet. The baby was still sleeping, wrapped up in her blanket.

“What time is it?” Scully whispered.

“2:30. I need to change your bedding and you need to go to the bathroom. I’m going to help you up and help you walk there,” Karla whispered back.

She pulled Scully’s blankets down and helped her to sit up. Scully groaned and her stomach cramped. Oh, right the after contractions. Shit, she had forgotten about those.

“Take your time,” Karla said to her.

They figured it out and Scully slowly made her way to the bathroom. Karla helped her sit down and then stayed with her as she used the bathroom, helping her as needed. She slowly got up, washed up, changed her gown, and returned to the room. Karla changed her bedding, putting down fresh sheets and pads across the blankets.

Mulder stirred when Scully touched his hand. He opened his eyes and jumped up, standing with her by the bassinet.

“Are you okay? What are you doing?” he asked as he stared at her, looking her up and down.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Karla is changing the bedding and I went to the bathroom.” She stared at the baby and smiled.

“You’re okay though? Nothing is wrong?” he asked, his face worried.

“No, I’m okay. Just tired and really fucking sore,” she said quietly. “But look at her, Mulder. She was worth it.”

She reached for his hand and they watched the baby sleep for a few minutes more before Karla told her to lie back down and rest.

A new bag of fluids was added as she laid back in the freshly made bed. A new ice pack as well. She exhaled and closed her eyes for a second.

Karla covered her and asked if she needed anything. Scully smiled and opened her eyes.

“No, thank you. I’m okay for now. Although, as soon as breakfast is available, I’d like to get something to eat. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, a blueberry and a bran muffin. Orange juice and decaf coffee for me and regular for Mulder,” she said, feeling her mouth water.

Karla laughed softly and said she would make sure of it. She said she would be back in a couple of hours to check on her again and they would need to wake the baby if she had not woken on her own to eat. Scully nodded and Karla left the room.

It felt good to be in a clean bed, but she was still so sore. The ice was helping, but Jesus Christ, she ached so badly all across her bottom half. As if someone had taken a few hundred whacks at her vagina, like some demented version of a piñata.

She turned on her side toward the baby and Mulder. She found he was back on the couch. He was still dressed in the same clothes, but he was lying down and slightly covered at least. He was also staring right at her, as if he had been watching her for awhile.

“That couch pulls out farther. And there are a couple changes of clothes for you in the bag,” she said with a yawn.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m happy as a clam.”

She smiled as his words conjured up old memories. She closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep. Thinking of the past, the way way past, and the present. Thinking of them and what they had endured, how they persevered, and how they would carry on.  

She fell asleep and dreamed of the future. A new world full of hope and kindness, with their strong and courageous daughter leading the way.

______________________________________________________

Oh! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am loving it so much. The pain and hardships they have endured to get to where they are, all worth it when they see their little girl. The second chance they deserve since they were denied so much and lost so much in the past. Life has been very unfair to these two, it’s time they had some happiness.

[girlwiththegreenhat]

thoughts on ur favorite drink? ur favorite art program? thoughts on keeping a sketchbook? on any pets you have?

HELL yeah thanks for the ask i hope u like tangents on tangents and run on sentences because just like my blog description says, I Do Not Shut Up!

favorite type of drink: crystal pepsi

every fucking year i email the Bepsi company and ask when this god damn drink is coming back. last year? literally spent almost all of 2019 moving house, and i got no crystal pepsi anywhere in that time. now it’s 2020. there’s a plague. and the world is burning. and there’s still no fucking crystal pepsi. the moral of the story here is, as soon as pepsi brings back The Good Shit, everything can be nice again. i am .3 seconds away from breaking into pepsi HQ in the midst of this Rioting Chaos just to steal the Crystal Pepsi recipe from their fat stupid noses and start making it myself. I will market it as... Creestöl Bepsi.

oh wait im supposed to talk about the drink, right, shit’s good yo. you know how all clear sodas taste vaguely the same? they all taste like Clear Drink? this is like Clear Drink in it’s purest form. it is the Clearest Drink. with the most Clearest Drink taste. and thanks to it’s (formerly) limited annual runs at the end of summer it literally tastes like nostalgia. I have left the house like twice in the last three months but if they brought back crystal pepsi i would march out of my house like its on fire (wearing a mask of course) and buy every fucking bottle i could find, life savings be damned

so anyway yeah crystal pepsi’s good i guess

favorite art program: begrudgingly, photoshop

adobe may be a greedy bitch baby company who doesnt actually let you buy their software outright but damn,,, photoshop Nice,,, hehehehe,,, i can do so Much with it it’s such a multitool of a program,,, i just upgraded to the 2020 version in february and there’s SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO many more brushes than there were in the 2014 version, and most of them are actually really useful!! i’m living for this guy’s brushes, uh, kyle?? yeah, kyle t. webster. now THAT guy knows how to make some brushes. i’ve been using the same ones for like six years but he’s got this GORGEOUS lineart brush i’ve been using and dear god i love it too much to ever go back. I Will Never Go Back. AND I JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT LIKE, BLEND BRUSHES?? there are ones that perfectly emulate real pencils thanks to how photoshop handles brushes, it even wears out and widens with use (you can choose how fast...) and you can TILT your STYLUS to USE THE BROADER SIDE OF THE “LEAD”??? LIKE?? A REAL PENCIL???? still blows my mind,, photoshop’s brush engine is fucking amazing,,

Thoughts on keeping a sketchbook?

sketchbooks are great and i envy people who have those really nice, blank-page sketchbooks with the little rounded corners on each page? and they always fill them with studies and life drawings,,, its so Aesthetic,,,

meanwhile im adamant for some damn reason to do most of my drawings on lined paper still. not the serious ones, but if im doodling, or just doing a sketch i intend to finish in photoshop? composition notebook. i have Dozens of Actual sketchbooks, but those are so nice... i don’t want to fill them with stupid meme drawings and things i wont finish and things i draw Badly and things that i Will finish but not There. i’m glad im not going to college cuz i always hear “oh you have to submit your sketchbooks” im like haha What cuz my sketchbooks,,,, are probably some of the most unprofessional, badly organized, unfinished messes out there,,, like i do studies but it’s all on lined notebook paper and half-destroyed composition notebooks because at the end of 8th grade everyone was throwing out their unused or slightly used school supplies and there was a WHOLE RECYCLING BIN FULL OF COMPOSITION NOTEBOOKS?? MOST OF WHICH ONLY HAD THE FIRST LIKE 15 PAGES FILLED OUT IF THAT???? SO I JUST KINDA. RAIDED IT?? i havent bought lined paper in 8 years and all the school supplies i looted out of the garbage that day carried me all the way through high school. i bought maybe one notebook in highschool, that was it. i think i literally trash picked a lifetime of lined paper,,,

,,, anyway i have a Nice Sketchbook (no lined paper!) ive been toting around since sophomore year of high school. it’s still got printouts taped to it from supernatural and doctor who and black rock shooter. this was seven years ago, i still use it when i want to use Nice Paper, and only now am i approaching the last pages. i also have a separate sketchbook i decided to start using for concept art and sketches for my webcomic i will never actually start working on! that one’s about as professional as i get, it’s full of robot designs and sketches of scenes. its fun.

i am not a real artist aslkdfkljdfskjldsfkjl

Thoughts on any pets you have?

i love me pets! they are not my pets they are my parents pets but i take care of them more so who cares. i love them. i love all three doggos even if Gigi is an old lazy fart that doesn’t care about anything that isn’t sleeping, food, going outside, or bellyrubs. she doesn’t even listen to you if you call her or tell her to do something. i dont know what her deal is. and gemma!! is a depressed muppet. she’s probably just getting old herself even though she’s only,,, seven. we got a third dog and she never got over it. she is still my favorite though, she’s adorable and i love her little under bite and her big goofy eyes that don’t have a single thought or braincell behind them. she floofy and snuggley and a big ol scardey cat who always comes into my room for hours when there’s a Loud Sound outside which is great because i cant sleep when something else is alive in my room and its not me but whatever i cant say no to her, especially now that we’re both on the same floor and i would probably take a bullet for this funky lil fuzzball.

speaking of the third dog that is kiwi i post more pictures of her than anyone else for some reason but she’s a cute lil goblin. i mean what is this thing. what is it!! im not even entirely convinced its a dog, i think its a weird lil alien that knows what a dog looks like and that’s it

what is this thing!! dont know!! she’s plotting though!! i have never seen Thoughts happening in a dogs head before but she Knowes Things. she learned how to slap the other dogs. 80% of the time if you point a phone at her she stops moving because she somehow understands the concept of a “Camera.” she’s a little chaos bagel. a chaos bagel with a critical case of The Zoomies and a burning hatred of feet

we also have a budgie named olive. he’s pretty, but quiet