#everyone leaves and I should be used to this by now

[baepsays]

I FEEL THE RUSH ──── Gojo Satoru.

synopsis ────⋙ Instead of spending the very last summer vacation of your life like an average university student, you come back to your home town under unexpected and unfortunate circumstances; and silly misunderstandings lead to a blossoming summer romance.

pairing ────⋙ summer fling Gojo Satoru x reader

wc ────⋙ 15.2k (for a spontaneous silly fic i worte in 5 days idk how it got this long)

cw ────⋙ NSFW, MDNI, fluff, i mean some angst, mention of cheating, shitty ex, shitty friends, depressive episode, everyone here is rich af, teasing, banter, oral sex (f! receiving), car sex, flirting, lots of it, nothing else i wanna spoil lol, give it a read.

a/n: art by @/m0ryy , find the art here. the playlist that i used (very fun playlist ngl), also I'm tweaking the layout here and there as it just fits.

Summer is often dubbed the season of fruition, fulfillment, happiness, and new beginnings. Though for you, summer seems to be the season when you just never know what day it is. 

Days blend into each other, hours pass by, the sun never seems to set, and weeks seem to end way ahead of time. And your boyfriend, or now ex-boyfriend to be more accurate, finds it the perfect season to finally break up with you. After months of cheating on you behind your back with your own closest friend, it seems he finally found the nerve to get away with it.

After they were both done leaching off of you and betraying you, it was time to leave you behind. 

You wish you could say you were hurt. Broken and miserable. Well, you were miserable, not because of the recent circumstances. But rather than you being concerned about graduating, the dread of leaving behind the safety net of a tiring education system was daunting, to say the least. But at least it was there.

You don't really blame them for anything, but then you also do, though you knew when it started. When you found one of her socks in his room. Or when you smelled his perfume on her sheets. But you just never did anything; it sort of gave you leverage to not really input anything into these exhausting relationships without feeling like an asshole. A good excuse—that's all it was. 

Maybe your parents wouldn't understand these things so easily; maybe to them you are their heartbroken little girl. That is probably why they showed up at your apartment unannounced immediately the day after you told them about your breakup. 

And now you are in the backseat of your father's car, being driven back to the town you grew up in. Passing by the familiar ocean you always hated looking at whenever you had to drive back and forth. The vast, never-ending, salty mystery never made any sense to you. Probably why you never got around to learning how to swim.

“Are you alright there, sweetheart?” Your mother looked back from the passenger seat, only to hear you hum an unenthusiastic yes. 

“We're almost there. You know they renovated the club? You should come with us tomorrow. Everyone asks about you all the time.” Your father spoke without moving his eyes from the road.

“Sure. I will.” It didn't take much to appease your parents.

Simple-minded or privileged, whatever they were, you were probably worse. With all the comfort in this world, here you were, alone by choice. Left behind and soon forgotten. Which was never your intention; you just could not be what your parents, your ex boyfriend, and your friend's expectations wanted you to be. And therefore you are now taking steps backwards at a time in your life when you are to be sprinting forward.

Summer has always been the season most unkind to you, and you've never made it feel any less unappreciated. The animosity between you and the most beloved season cannot be that easily erased with a renovated country club, or the ocean, or some ice cream, or the wind that breezes by your windows at night, or twelve hours of sleep. 

But at the very least you can hope it does not burn you into the ground.

Every time you step back in your old room, a part of you wishes that your parents just threw everything out and made it into another sitting room or another gym. Then you see the posters of the band you and your high school friends once snuck out to see during your last senior year summer vacation, and it reminds you that maybe summer didn't hate you as bad as you thought.

Then the memories of the summer during your first year of college come back, how miserable it was. Locked in your small dorm, with your annoying roommate gone, yet her side of the room remained as headache-inducing as ever. Parents you could reach out to, as they were not even in the country, and you did not have it in you to ruin their vacation. High school friends who slowly drifted away and suddenly broke all relationships and the promises. All that was left was you and the miserable heat of the summer. 

Anything will always be better than that shitty dorm room, even the room you grew up in that haunts your dreams now.

Walking down the stairs, you found your parents enjoying the wind cutting through them on the patio. And as you passed the living room while looking out at them sitting by each other's side, without even looking where you were going, you realized that maybe you have not really forgotten what that sense of familiarity felt like being back home.

It hasn't even been half a day that you've been back in your childhood bedroom. It was already well past 12:00 AM, and you could still walk from your room to the kitchen with your eyes closed, half asleep. Even the sound of a car pulling up in your neighbor’s driveway, the teenagers giggling in a hushed voice, and someone's dog barking—everything felt comforting and just as it always sounded. It felt like home. 

It felt like you could finally open your windows, at the end of the day, and welcome the summer breeze as happily as your parents did. 

You wish you could say you spent your first few days back home more productively. Instead it was just a routine of waking up at either 4:00 AM or 4:00 PM. Making coffee, eating whatever could be easily grabbed, and then spending the rest of your day rotting away in bed.

This was summer. The summer that everyone longed for and idealized, for you it was days bending into each other. Until the urgency of the decreasing free days finally made you want to pick up your unfinished assignments and open those untouched documents.

“Alright, get ready!” Your father barged into your room unannounced with the amount of enthusiasm that made you kind of regret being back home.

“You have got to stop walking into my room like that.” You didn't bother to look up at him from your bed, keeping your eyes trained on the screen of your laptop. The poor thing has been running since last night without a break. All because you found some horrible show to occupy your brain for some hours and not let you think about anything. 

“Go get changed; we're going to the club!” With every step he took forward, the more you wanted your bed to swallow you whole.

“Why can't I just stay home—AND STOP OPENING MY WINDOWS, IT'S SO HOT OUT!” The sunlight suddenly poured in from your windows, and it felt like just from the looks of the shining rays of light, the heat outside could melt even when you were in the comfort of your nice and cold room, courtesy of the air conditioning. 

“DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME, YOUNG LADY! YOU'RE COMING WITH US!” 

And what is a poor little girl to do when her father is the one paying for her tuition fees and air conditioning bill? Certainly not going against what he asked for. She has to move her butt, take a shower, and change into a presentable sundress. To smile and nod at old neighbors she always found detestable.

You can only hope this white dress passes as presentable. Though there is nothing wrong with the dress, and sure, it is worn in, the cotton has softened significantly from when it was originally bought, which feels better on the skin than anything ever. The thin straps have become a little flimsy, and you genuinely believe the length has somehow shortened from above your knees to now where the hem lies on the middle of your thighs. But the pretty embroidery of flowers that ran all over the dress in a cream thread was what made this dress as captivating as it was.

The country club has never been a place you went with much enthusiasm. It was either about tagging your parents, running away from swimming lessons they forcibly signed you up for, sneaking into some empty room to take a nap, taking tennis lessons, or just simply sitting by the pool with your friends for lack of anything else better to do.

The worst part was always running into familiar faces, especially in such an exclusive place; everyone knew everyone. Especially when you're left by yourself at a table, like right now, sipping on some tea, only for just about any nasty neighbor to come up to you and make a few sarcastic comments.

“Oh my goodness! How have you been, honey? Look at you! It's like you're a fully grown adult now! But I still can't choose a pretty dress I see.” Oh, how you wish Mrs. Wilson would finally change for the better and stop running her mouth. And what is that even supposed to mean? You are a fully grown adult. Even though she will argue you're still the same petty kid from all those years ago. But you'd have to argue that you're a vengeful grown-up now. This is why you'll never see eye to eye with her.

“And you also look like you've aged a lot in these few years, Mrs. Wilson.” Her face soured just as quickly as it always did whenever she stopped to talk to you on the street back when you used to live here. 

“Your tongue is as sharp as ever, huh?” She smiled at you with the most faux politeness.

“Well, some things never change.” And you returned her smile with a similarly fake one.

Thankfully, your parents were done chatting with some of their friends. So you said your goodbyes to her with a tight smile and walked back to your parents. Not before you let out a little chuckle to yourself hearing her scoff behind your back.

“Oh, you met Mrs. Wilson, huh? I hope you were nice.” Your mother asked in a concerned voice, knowing your long, tumultuous history with her. 

Well, maybe you would've had a better relationship with her like the rest of your neighbors, who adore you! If only she didn't insult your fashion choices since you were a baby, and if her daughter didn't spend the entirety of high school trying to compete with you. Then maybe—actually never mind, you cannot be nice to a woman like her. 

“Yep, I was on my best behavior!” Your smile sure didn't say so, and your mother knew that too. At least your father understood your hatred for that woman. And thankfully he still does, given the fist bump he offered you. 

“You two are going to kill me one day. Anyway, we are going to the sauna. Do you want to come with us?” She sighed, tired of you and your father's dislike for the woman who happens to be a big source of your mother's neighborhood gossip.

“Sauna with you two and your friends? Absolutely not.” You'd rather sit in a scorching hot room full of old people who've seen you in your diaper, like any sane person.

“Alright, but the Getos wanted to meet you.” The Geto family lived right across from you. They happened to be your parents’ probably closest friends here. You and their son, Suguru, grew up together. You two have been childhood friends who always had a mutual respect for each other because of your mutual disdain for Mrs. Wilson and Summer. 

“I'll say hello to them after you guys are done or just drop by their place later.” You adored them the best out of all your neighbors. After all, they've been nothing but kind to you growing up. You've spent a lot more time in Suguru's front yard than your own. 

“Alright. We'll let you know when we are done.” You and your parents always had very different ideas about most situations.

“Huh? I can't just go home?” Where your parents wanted you to engage in some social and recreational activities, you wanted to go back to your bed.

“No. Either do something or come to the sauna with us.” At this point it felt like your mother just wanted you to be humiliated in the sauna more than anything.

“Sure, threatening your fully grown-up daughter is the best method of parenting.” The way you were sighing made you sound more like an angsty teenager than anything.

“If you were actually a grown-up adult, we wouldn't have to lecture you like this.” God forbid you get snarky and your mother lets you get away with it.

“Jeez, I'll find something to do.” No one can really argue with your mother, so guess you better find something interesting enough to do while your parents get cooked in the sauna.

“Don't cause any trouble, sweetie!” Your father said, loudly enough from behind you, that made you pick up your pace out of the dining hall. Twenty or seventy-two, they'll never stop embarrassing you on purpose.

“Not a kid, oh my god.” You speed-walked past the pool, full of teenagers and old people. Mumbling to yourself, like some sort of reassurance.

No one you know will ever call you childish or anything but mature. Except for your parents, they'd say you're still a kid. And maybe they are right; you don't really feel like an adult, nor do you feel like a kid. It's a weird limbo of being in your 20s, the supposedly best years of your life, just passing by in vain and emptiness.

The country club truly looked better than ever. The playground for the kids looked like it had been through some major improvement. The pool was now bigger; even the kids' pool was better than what you remember flapping around in. The path around the lake, by the garden, looked newly paved. And the golf course was just as vast but greener than ever.

But all of that did not meet the requisite of your interests. What interested you was beyond the pool, adjacent to the garden, and right before the golf course started. 

It was the tennis court where you spent the majority of your childhood, where you met Geto Suguru. And immediately decided you have to win everything where you face him off, because otherwise he will just tease you to death. You learned your lesson when you lost one friendly match to him the day you met, and that too only on the second day of your tennis journey. And suddenly the reserved new kid on the block was a smug little shit.

‘Maybe you never had to try hard enough, but you'll have to, if you want to win against me.’ Was what he said, if you remember correctly.

Since then you've been great friends. But it was either you tried not to compete against him or made sure to grind in secrecy to not give him even the smidge of a chance to tease you. 

You wish your friendship with Suguru stayed as it was when you guys were kids. Playing in his front yard, getting ice cream after school, going to the beach, and pulling pranks on Mrs. Wilson. You wish some things just never changed. But you can't really say you two are on unfriendly terms now or anything; you still get a text or call from him here and there, and you make sure to always text him back and call him if any opportunity arises. You've met up with him from time to time. And you often hear about him through your parents, and you're sure he also hears likewise. 

So it doesn't feel like you truly lost a friend to your shitty teenage hormones and the span of time. But you sure feel sorry for the both of you. Neither of you had a good time in highschool, it was very similar emotions you both were going through. But you two were dealing with them in your own unique and respectively different ways. Where he chose to completely shut himself away, you chose to try so hard to fit into places you never felt like you belonged. 

It was only after you came back home during Christmas after getting into college that you guys reconciled.

You are glad you met Suguru that day as a kid; otherwise, maybe you wouldn't have ever gone through with your tennis lessons. If only Suguru were there to race you to the pool, you'd have been a state-level swimmer by now. 

The tennis court was empty. In the heat of a summer afternoon, with the sun at its peak, it was obvious only a fool would be on a tennis court. Thankfully there wasn't another fool like you anywhere around.

And since the net was so nicely tied up, the equipment was there looking like it had just been cleaned, and you needed something to pass your time—why not take advantage of the situation? To check your rusty tennis skills and how well your new sunscreen worked. Whether or not you were about to come out looking like a sun-dried tomato depended on it. After all, summer will be here for a while, and so will you.

The neon green ball bounced off the ground and back into your palm easily, just as easily as it flew up in the air and then collided with your racket. It made a snappy sound as it spanned across the court. The ball went to hit the fence on the opposite side. You felt the sweat dripping down your temples, the ball rolled around on the ground, and you felt like something within you finally stirred up after a long while. 

The number of neon balls started to gather on the opposite side of the court, as well as around your feet, from a few missed serves. But it felt good to hear the sound of your heart beating with the sound of the ball hitting the racket.

But you can only serve a few bunches of balls in the air all by yourself without an opponent. So you tried to look for the ball-dispensing machine, which you never got around to figuring out, thanks to the always very helpful staff. But given the time, everyone must be busy serving or helping out for lunch. 

Yet you walked out of the court anyway to find someone to help you out with the machinery. And just behind the court, under a tree, just at the beginning of the golf course, you found a golf cart. To be more specific, you found a man leaning back in the driver's seat of the cart, with his hands behind his head, looking beat and exhausted.

He had a baseball cap covering his face, his white pearly hair was shining in the sun, and a single drop of sweat slowly streamed down his neck, along with his prominent veins, very cinematically. Even though you couldn't see his face, you could tell this guy was not from here; maybe he recently moved or something, or he was visiting for the summer and making some cash. Either way, you felt this intrigue bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as you stared at his bulging biceps and the sheen of sweat at the end of his rolled-up sleeves around his shoulders. 

‘Get a grip, jeez.’ 

You had to warn yourself before walking up to him. Each step you took felt heavier than before; for some weird reason, now you are thinking twice about asking the hot golf cart driver for some help.

“Um, hey?” You finally reached beside the cart and leaned just close enough to his ears. And when your barely audible voice didn't get to him, you had to summon up the courage to speak up.

“Excuse me?” This time the guy jerked up in his seat. The baseball cap fell from his face to his lap, and one of his sleeves rolled down to cover up his bicep because of his sudden movements. 

“Yeah?” Now that you could get a clear look at him, you could feel the tightening knots in your stomach getting worse. Not only did his body look so much better up close, but his build also looked bigger than what you imagined from afar, and his face, oh boy. 

How to start? The root of his pearly hair was damp with sweat, coming off as a darker shade of something in between white and gray compared to the rest of his fluffy hair blowing in the hot summer winds. His eyes were squinted from the sudden change in lighting, but you could see the sunlight reflecting in his blue pupils. There was a layer of sweat accumulated above his upper lip, and you had to conjure up everything to not reach out and wipe it away.

“Hi, uh, I needed some help.” You pointed back at the tennis court behind you with your free hand, and the racket in your other hand came to cover the front of your legs, like some sort of shield from the unfamiliar worker’s eyes. Which made it no secret that they were raking up your body from toe to toe, probably wondering why the fuck you are playing tennis in this heat.

“Oh sure!” He quickly jumped off the cart, leaving the cart to wobble from the sudden movements and lack of weight. 

He took maybe three long strides, and he was already almost at the tennis court, while you were still standing with the empty cart, looking at the silhouette of his thick thighs in those basketball shorts. 

“You comin’?” He called out for you from the entrance of the court, flashing you a toothy grin, waiting for you to reach him there instead of entering the grounds all by himself. You quickly yelled a yes and ran up to him, giggling at your half-effort running. 

You walked into the court, choosing to blame the sudden rise in heat on the sun above your heads. He followed suit obediently, ending up in front of the ball dispenser. 

“So, could you help me start this thing? I don't know how to work this thing.” You explained to the man, hoping for some help.

“Alright. Let's see, did you try turning it on, or did it suddenly stop or something?” He crouched down on the ground to sit on his left knee on the ground. Looking around the machine and toying with the buttons at the side that you also pressed, you were also met with nothing. He inspected the machine further to find any other way to start it, even kicking it a few times.

“Yeah. This thing is definitely broken.” He gets up to now stand facing you, with his hands on his hips, defeated. 

You sighed, all disappointed, but then again it made sense why the tennis court was completely empty. He looked at your face for a bit, contemplating whether or not he should blurt out what he is thinking about offering.

“Uh, I could play against you instead!” He walked up to the rest of the equipment under the shade and picked up a racket and spun it in his hands. 

“Are you sure? I'm not interrupting you, right?” You were happy to hear his offer, but you also didn't want him to get scolded by his boss or something.

“Oh please, it's my pleasure!” Maybe this was part of the service. 

“Alright then, you serve.”

“Gladly.”

 You threw the ball across the net at him, and he caught it without any hesitation.

He slightly bent down to position for his serve as you walked up to your post and got in position as well. He made the ball touch the racket three times before jumping up in the air and served the ball like an experienced and in-practice player. The ball flew right by your head and hit the ground outside of the boundary.

“Surely you didn't call me here to lose to me, did’ya?” A smug smirk stretched on his lips. And it irked you. In a different way than Suguru, sure, you still wanted to beat his ass in the game, but it did more for you than just aggravate you. That tightening sensation in your abdomen was back. 

“No, I called you here to eat shit.” But god forbid you let yourself lose a match against some smug smart ass.

“Oh, ho ho, feisty, aren't we?” He chuckled at your shit talk. You sure didn't look like the type to shit-talk in that pretty white dress, with the wind flowing by you, asking him so politely to help with the ball dispenser.

He didn't get a time to register when you even served the ball; he was expecting another sharp reply. Instead he somehow managed to hit it back, and this time the ball stayed in the air for a while. Until you rushed forward and jumped up in the air and pushed the ball down with as much force as you could, one of his knees bent, and he slid forward to get the ball. Unfortunately, his focus went from the ball to you—the way your pretty white dress hugged you and how the skirt flipped up in the air when you made that jump, exposing more of your thighs and a glimpse of your also white panties and the little lace trim on them. This need started to brew within him, and he couldn't pinpoint what it exactly was; he is not some horny teenager, after all. And so the ball crossed the net and hit the ground, making his efforts useless. 

“Huh, so you're not just all talk.” 

“I am not the one running his tongue here.”

“Uh huh? We'll see who's left tongue-tied at the end then.”

“Yeah, you'd know more about that, since you're losing.” 

And with a chuckle from him, you were in your position, legs spread out, racket in between your legs, ready for whatever he's about to throw your way.

Let's say you were far from tongue-tied even though you just lost.

“No, you were clearly out of the boundary there.” You walked up to the net, ready to swing your racket at him.

“Alright, alright, don't make up things now like a sore loser.” His racket fell out of his hands and landed on the ground as he walked towards the middle of the court. Meeting you behind the net. 

“Sweets, please, you just could not keep up with me; it's ok to admit defeat.” That smile on his face, you wanted to smack it off, but not really.

“This one doesn't count!” You pulled the racket up to his face, not even cognizant of what you were doing at this point, blinded by the fury from your loss. “Alright, sure. Rematch then?” He grabbed the head of your racket and pulled you closer towards him; the net clung to your body, and you could feel his body against yours, with the barrier of the tennis court net between you two.

And you wish you had something to say. But you were finally tongue-tied.

“Satoru!” 

Both of your heads turned towards the source of the voice, ever so familiar to both of you. Thankfully the distant silhouette of Suguru walking up to the court finally had you push away from the stranger's body. This guy you've known for mere hours, apparently named Satoru, suddenly had you at your wit's end. And somehow you had thanked Geto Suguru for interrupting your game, a first for everything, truly.

As Suguru walked up to the both of you, his usual furrowed eyebrows shot up to see you standing there looking clueless, with a racket in your hands. And he rushed his step a little more to get to you.

“And what are you doing here, huh?” His hands reached out in a fist. Which you gladly bumped in acknowledgement, and he instantly pulled you in for a hug. With one arm around your shoulders and another on top of your head, patting it, like he always did.

“Should've told me you're visiting. I saw you like months ago; you weren't even here for Christmas last year.” Suguru kept blabbering with you in his embrace, finally letting you go when you tapped on his chest to let you go for some air.

“You have to lose this habit, Sugu.” You two pulled away with a smile on your faces, glad to be running into each other after a while. It has been just texts and calls for the last few months, since your degree absolutely fucked you over, and so did your boyfriend and your friend. 

“So what, you're here with your loser boyfriend?” Suguru placed an arm around your shoulders, and his smile started dimming down as he saw your genuine smile getting replaced with a tight, awkward one.

“Yeah, oh god, about that.” You explained to Suguru the whole situation with your ex-boyfriend and ex-friend, as his face started contorting in rage. 

All the while, Satoru stood behind you two, leaning on the net between the courts; your hushed voices were barely audible to his ears. But one thing was clear to him: his best friend and this pretty stranger he just met a few hours ago sure had a great bond. The sort of friendship where even when you don't talk for months, you can see each other and hug instantly and spill your guts without any hesitation. Somewhere he felt a little envious, or left out maybe, unsure what it exactly was. The fact that his best friend had someone besides him whom he relied on so heavily, or the fact that you were smiling at Suguru with such ease. But then again, he literally just met you, and he's already getting ahead of himself. He doesn't even know your name yet.

Once you were done calming down a very angry and cursing Suguru, offering to beat up your ex, you finally noticed Satoru leaning on the net. And your eyes lingered on his, staring into each other's eyes, with something dense between you two, beyond physical and comprehensive explanations.

Suguru finally realized Satoru's presence, the reason why he ended up here anyway. And walked up to him, who was still staring at you instead of shifting his focus to Suguru. You felt pinned to where you stood, incapable of any movements under his gaze.

“You dumbass, you said you were going to take a break for a few minutes, and you disappeared for hours!” Suguru smacked his forehead, and finally his focus shifted from you as he got busy pouting and rubbing his forehead. So you used this opportunity to walk up to the benches to grab your bag, take out the water bottle, and check your phone. But even then, Satoru's gaze discreetly followed you there while also trying to give Suguru his attention. 

“Oh, come on, it wasn't thaaaat long, and your parents left for the spa; why would I stay there and get my ass beaten up by you?” So there was another person beside you who would rather back out than go against Geto Suguru; it was somewhat comforting to know.

“Alright, sure. Anyway, how come you two are here? Together?” Suguru looked back at you and then again at Staoru.

“Oh, I was looking for a staff member, and he was just out there. Honestly I did not expect a golf cart driver to be much help to me anyway but—”

“Woah, wait, sweets, what do you mean?” 

He stood up straight and had to cut you off. Because something about what you were saying told him that there was a bit of a misunderstanding here.

“And I was going to say this earlier as well: should you be speaking to a club member like this?” You walked up to the both of them and stood beside Suguru, looking a little disappointed at Satoru.

“Huh?” Genuine confusion poured out of his voice.

“I mean, as an employee here, you should—”

“Wait, wait, wait. So you actually think I work here?” He pointed a finger at himself and looked at you with confusion and dejection. So you've fucked up the calculation here, it seems. 

“Oh, this is hilarious to me.” Suguru chimed in, hands folded over his chest, enjoying the mystery of Satoru's identity unfolding. Smirking to himself, enjoying his best friend's humiliation.

“I mean, you look like it. With the white polo and shorts and those sneakers with socks. In this weather, on top of it.” You tried to contain your smile while describing his outfit; it looked exactly like what some of the part-time, non-uniform-wearing employees wore to come off as more friendly.

“SEE! I told you, you look fucking stupid, Satoru!” Suguru’s voice shot up, and he pointed his index finger at Satoru in an accusatory tone. One you knew oh so well, the ‘Hah! I told you so!’ tone, and you felt bad for throwing Satoru in a situation you've hated being in in the past.

“I thought it was a good golf outfit, ok? I’M SORRY!” Satoru, in return, comically gestured at his attire to make a point for Suguru. If this whole exchange wasn't so funny, you'd have felt really bad for him.

“Yeah, and then you sucked at it on top of your horrible outfit. His father is so good at golf you'd think he'd be good as well.” Suguru looked at you, trying to put up a picture of Satoru's poor skills regarding anything golf.

“Shut up. Also, you have a lot to say for someone who made the same amount of holes as me.”

“That's because I am tired.”

“Excuses.”

Suddenly you were now a key witness for a whole crime that was about to take place; it felt like they were about to throw hands any moment. Fortunately, your phone, along with Suguru's phone, buzzed in your respective pockets. And even before checking, you both knew it was your parents. 

“They're done, so should we head inside?” Suguru placed the phone back in his pocket after checking the text. 

You nodded and gathered your bag to meet up with your parents and the Getos, along with the two men you ran into through a series of unexpected happenings. On the way, Suguru introduced you and Satoru to each other. You gave Satoru your name and a gist of how you grew up with Suguru. In return, you got to know that his full name was Gojo Satoru.

“I mean, I sort of know you already.” His side slightly bumped into yours as Suguru led you two into the building. You tilted your head in confusion, not sure where you even ran into someone this outstandingly gorgeous and then forgot about him. That's not possible; he doesn't have a forgettable face, even for someone like you who forgets people's names and faces really quickly. You were sure if you ever saw him, you wouldn't have forgotten him. If you ever walked past him on a busy street, even then you'd remember him.

“Well, Suguru talks about you sometimes, so it feels like I kind of know you already.” 

You didn't know what was the cause of the fluttering sensation in your chest, the fact that Suguru cares about you enough that you get brought up in his conversations, or the gorgeous smile that Satoru threw after what he said, or was it simply what he said? 

There have been plenty of times someone said they felt like they'd known you for a longer time than how long they actually knew you. And it always irked you to think someone you don't even know thinks they know you, presumably, well enough. Yet in this case you didn't feel that, maybe because he's Suguru's friend. But this wouldn't have been the first time you didn't like one of his friends, so that was not the case. 

Maybe he was just some strange exception.

On your way back home, at dinner, after dinner, during breakfast the next morning—all your brain was occupied with was nothing but Gojo Satoru. 

I mean, what choice did you have left when your parents wouldn't stop singing his praises? Truly simple they are. The whole story about how you thought he was a staff member was a hit. That, accompanied by some flirting with your mother and some bad dad jokes with your father, and now suddenly he is their favorite person ever.

If there was a tier list, surely it's Gojo Satoru, then Geto Suguru, only because he has broken a lot of your windows while playing catch as a kid, and lastly you. And you cannot argue with them. The man sure has his charms and knows how to use them. 

Now that you are just standing by your window, with no one to influence your opinions or thoughts, you cannot help but go back to thinking about that man. For once you wanted to open your windows during the day, in hopes of catching a glimpse of something. Or someone, but you were still too stubborn to admit that to yourself.

But you still were fortunate enough to find what you were exactly looking for. 

Satoru was in the Geto residence’s driveway, right across from your house, visibly clear from your windows. In a tank top that had a Sonic X logo in the middle, which was soaked in sweat and soap water. There were bubbles around his forehead, and his bangs were clumped up and wet. The sheen of the off-white car covered in soapy water reflected an angelic light and all the colors of the rainbow all over him. It was flashy and ridiculously expensive-looking, most probably imported from somewhere, flashier than most of your neighbor's cars, but it really suited him. 

There was nothing remarkable about what he was doing; he was washing his car. And yet, to you it was somehow the most fascinating thing you've seen since you came back home, or maybe in years. 

The shape of his muscles was making outlines in his tight-fitting, drenched top. That silly Sonic X logo somehow made him look cuter. And all it did was make your eyes drag upwards from there, towards the platinum chain sitting on his collarbones. It lay flat around the curve of his neck, and the taut muscles there, as he moved his arms back and forth to clean the car, the chain moved along with his movements. Bouncing off his skin to sit curved on his collarbones again and again.

His teeth grazed his bottom lip from time to time, but his eyebrows and eyes did not show any signs of frustration. How he was just standing in the sweltering sun, in a soggy tank top and shorts clinging to his body, soap all over him, hair semi-wet in that said water and sweat—it was beyond you. But you just could not look away from him.

But maybe the intensity of your eyes reached his skin better than the sun. He looked up from his car, right towards your house, and after a second, his eyes found your window. And also you, standing in the window, shocked to be found caught red-handed, not doing anything bad, but also nothing you were proud of. 

Satoru's unoccupied hand moved up to wave at you with a sweet smile. And you malfunctioned. Instead of waving back at him like a normal person would, you hid behind your curtains. With a heaving chest, you stood there until you felt the heat rising up your body, going down. When you peeked outside, still hiding behind your curtains, you saw him leaning down on the car, with his arms folded under him, head tilted and eyes still directed towards your windows. 

Now you certainly could not just come out and wave a hi back at him. So you did the sensible act of ducking down on the floor to crawl all the way to your door. You remained on the floor until you could shit your bedroom door behind you, and when you did so, your back went against it. For some support to get back up on your two feet, and even then it felt like it was impossible. 

Your heartbeat was racing, and your entire body was burning up in a blaze. 

Out of precaution, your windows remained shut for the rest of the day. And you kept your face buried in your pillows, trying to process the sudden influx of emotions that you were feeling. Unfamiliar and few feelings that people usually feel way earlier in their lives, and yet here you were, early in your twenties. It was not your fault you wasted the majority of your college life on some guy whom you only kept around because you were too scared. Too scared to be left behind and forgotten, you just did not want to be lonely. Even if that meant surrounding yourself with people you knew didn't give a shit about you. It somehow worked in high school, so naturally you thought it'd work out in university.

And now, slightly more mature and a little more comfortable with your own company, you found a strange guy who made you feel strange things. 

It was a strange day altogether. Since you offered to accompany your parents to the club without being pressured. Even they were caught off guard, but there was no way they were about to fumble this with snarky comments. They will save it to throw them at you later at dinner.

It was a pleasant Saturday; if you ignore everything that happened by your window, a perfect day to go out to brunch instead of your usual coffee and toast breakfast before bed rotting. And after the events that happened earlier, you needed to get out, feel the warm wind blowing right in your face, and maybe forget how embarrassing the whole exchange was, if you can even call it that. 

“Oh goodness, fancy running into you guys!” Your mother suddenly spoke out, looking towards the door behind you. 

A part of you was too busy and too delighted by the waffles in front of you to mind your mother's words. While the rest of you already knew who these people could possibly be. Even though you reassured yourself that the Geto family usually doesn't come here on Saturdays, you were still dreading the possibility. And here you were, stumped and with a mouth full of waffles, about to be embarrassed for the second time in a day in less than 12 hours. A new record! 

Chimes of good mornings came from behind you, first in Mr. and Mrs. Geto’s voices, then Suguru's voice, and lastly a very cheerful greeting by the one person you did not want to see today. Everyone was chatting as usual as they took a seat at your table. You also said your greetings to them, trying to not make eye contact with Satoru at all costs, even when you could feel his eyes on you as he sat down directly opposite to you. 

“What a rare sight to see Miss holed-up-in-her-room.” Mr. Geto jokes. 

“These days even vampires need some sun.” As stupid as the joke was, Mr. Geto came down with a boisterous laugh. He has always been an easy audience to please, or maybe it's his bias towards you.

“You two and your stupid jokes.” Suguru grumbled beside you, never a big fan of your and his father's sense of humor.

The table fell into an easy conversation. You caught up a bit more with the Getos, as you didn't get to see them after lunch the other day. And your parents seemed more fascinated by Satoru. Honestly, it was surprising to see your parents having this much interest in an individual your age, other than Geto Suguru. What was weirder was how well Satoru just got along with them, talking about whatever nonsense that is the stock market and business. You presume that his family is some big-shit conglomerate, surely. He found common ground with your mother about his fascination for art, even going as far as naming her art pieces that are his favorites. What a strange, strange man. 

You have had an array of people around you over the years—friends from school, college, and some neighborhood friends—and none of them ever got along with your parents this well, except for Geto Suguru. They couldn't stand your high school friends, they warned you about your college friends, and they never warmed up to your boyfriend. You never officially introduced him, just that they unfortunately visited at a time he was also dropping by. Maybe you were wrong; maybe even they picked up on how miserable you have been regardless of a shitty boyfriend or not, given how much they visited in the last 6 months.

And now that you are back here, at this noisy table, this feels alright. It felt like home, and it felt safe, around people you care about. With the addition of a man who just aroused weird feelings within you, weird and incomprehensible. But it was also just a summer; it'll pass, it'll be gone in mere weeks. 

It was just a normal and nice Saturday brunch until you felt something creeping up on your legs. It didn't feel like an insect or something; it was distinctly the shape of someone's toes. And the only possible answer to who it might be was sitting right across from you. His face was turned towards your father, with his eyes occasionally drifting to the corners to take unnoticeable glances at you. The way one of his hands was placed on top of the table and his other was perched on top of the back of his chair—no one could suspect anything unusual about him or what he was doing right under this table.

“You ok?” Suguru asked, seeing how suddenly you froze up, occasionally twitching in your seat. His toes were trying to map out the plain field, which was your legs. They tangled themselves in the strap of your sandals, which wrapped around your ankle, pulling on them tentatively and snapping them right back lightly, but the sensation could only be described as so good. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” Suguru didn't look like he bought your excuse, but he was never someone to get involved in your business if you didn't want him to, so he went back to the book he was reading. And who honestly does that at a busy table like this? Anyway,

As Satoru's foot glided upwards, from your shin to the side of your knees and right between where your legs crossed. To prevent any further invasion of his foot. Yet you could still feel his toes scraping against the skin over the front of your thighs. Trying to dip between the gap where your thighs pressed together. And it didn't really try to probe in between them, just going up and down there, teasing you, barely giving anything, with hints of everything lying thick in the air. 

And it was frustrating to sit there and take it all and to not let your legs open up themselves willingly. What was more frustrating was just when your legs were about to fall apart and open up, after trembling on their own, pressed together, to aid the feeling pooling in the bottom of your stomach, he swiftly pulled away his foot. 

All while talking to your parents like the most ideal man out there. Like he is not trying to get in between their daughter's legs. The audacity of this man really amazed you, looking at the smile on his face, it's impossible even for the gods to realize what a sinister man he is. And honestly, these are the people you always have made sure to stay away from; cunning and charming was not something you were equipped to deal with. 

But that scheming smile and those side glances across from you, boy, were fun. 

“What is wrong with you?” You managed to corner Satoru before heading home. Making up some dumb excuse about leaving behind your hat (which you didn't even wear) to catch him before he could get to the men's restroom. Let the others wait for the two of you, thinking you were busy doing your own thing, while here you were trying to interrogate Gojo Satoru.

“I would like to think everything is perfectly fine with me.” He simply smiled at you, with either of his hands on his hips.

“No, I know you are fine—I mean—that you are—you know that is not what I am talking about!” It was all utterly cringe-worthy, the way it slipped past your lips, making you wish to bury yourself.

“Yeah? Maybe I am more interested in talking about how fine you think I am.” He walked a step closer to you, making you take a step backwards.

“Don't twist my words.” You dig your index finger into his chest, somehow his hard yet supple chest. You take the step forward that you backed away from, but he did not budge from where he was standing.

“Why would I? I’m not the one playing games here now, am I?” Satoru's head tilted to the right, and his face dipped slightly downwards to look you properly in the eyes. And when you had no answers to give, was it that you were lost about what he was exactly asking or lost in his eyes? It cannot be said for sure which it was.

“So why did you ignore me this morning?” At first you were dumbfounded about what he was even talking about, then the embarrassing moment you had by your windows came crashing down on you.

“I—I don't know. What do you mean?” You did your best to look him in the eyes while also trying to lie through your teeth.

“I mean, when you were checking me out this morning and when I waved at you, you just ignored me!” His eyebrows frowned a bit, and his lips jutted in a pout. If you were not digging a mental hole to bury yourself out of embarrassment, then you'd have rather shamelessly just admired how adorable he looked. 

“It's just that, I was—” “You were…?” 

“I was looking at the car you were washing! Yeah! It didn't look like, uh, what the Getos drive, so... yeah.” You've made bad excuses before and lied like a pro even, yet in this moment you felt like a criminal trying to get away from being convicted. 

“Uh huh? You liked my car then?” Satoru narrowed his eyes at you, and his hands, which remained on his hips this entire time, added to what his eyes were saying—liar. But you nodded a yes with a tight smile, and suddenly instead of interrogating him, you were the one being interrogated.

“What color was it?”

“Huh?”

“My car. What color was it?”

For the love of everything, you could not remember what the hell the color of his car was! Sure, he could've asked you what the color of his shorts was, or the logo on his tank top, that mole under his left eye, or the dip between his collarbones, or perhaps the exact hex code for the color of his eyes—but he had to go and ask you about that stupid-ass car. 

You knew you were fucked, and he knew he had you cornered. For that one step you took forward a few seconds ago, you now had to take two steps back, while he took three steps forward. Your whole charade was up, and your petty crush on your childhood friend's best friend was about to be aired out, and you were about to be embarrassed into the ground. You were sure this is it, but thank God for Geto Suguru, for once in your life, maybe. Your true angel in disguise!

“Oi! What’s taking you two so long?” Suguru asked while walking towards you two through the hallway, at the end of which you were being interrogated by Gojo Satoru.

“Oh! Satoru got lost, so I was helping him! It’s fine now. Let's go!” You enthusiastically said while walking towards Suguru in a hurry. Because if you spent another second around Satoru, you'd lose your mind. 

You pushed Suguru’s back to make him walk away from the hallway, because another second here and he would start interrogating as well. So you pushed a reluctant and suspicious Suguru from behind, leaving a disappointed Satoru to follow your two’s lead outside. And mumbled to himself while looking at your back—

liar.

Since then, you did your best to avert the topic of conversation whenever Satoru tried to bring up your wandering eyes. Being in his close proximity was hard, especially when Suguru was not there. So you made sure he was always there when you were getting involved with Satoru. And yet there were always these moments that made you remember why you sometimes just cannot stand Suguru and his audacity.

“Y’wanna go to Lewis’ party this Saturday?” Suguru casually raised the question while still looking at his phone. Ignoring whatever silly flirting you and Satoru were doing, mostly him looking at you with heart eyes and you getting red like a beet at his little comments here and there. The horrible summer sun was already in the middle of the sky, and the tennis court itself felt like a frying pan. 

So here you three were, drenched in sweat and clad in shorts and loose shirts, sitting under the apricot tree near the tennis court, pressed between the two men. The same tree under which you found Satoru, made assumptions in your head, and dubbed him as a hot new cart driver.

“He still does those?” You looked at Suguru while ignoring Satoru’s finger poking your cheek from your other side. 

“Yeah, he still does, every summer. The dedication of that guy.” Suguru scoffed to himself and finally put his phone down to look at you after quickly throwing Satoru a side eye. 

“Who is this guy?” Satoru’s head suddenly was right beside yours; his body was basically leaning into yours.

“Just some guy we went to school with; he throws these big parties every summer. He can be pretty douchey, though.” Suguru paused a second to think to himself before looking between you two and continuing with a smirk. 

“Yeah, and this hotshot here dated him in high school.” Suguru’s hand landed on top of your head, slightly shaking it and patting it. And your own hands went to his wrist to shove it off you with a scoff.

“Oh please, it was like 5 months or less.” You rolled your eyes while leaning away from Suguru's hands; they can mess anyone up easily. “And it was nothing. Just some stupid summer fling.” 

You looked over at Satoru briefly to gauge his reaction while simultaneously trying to ignore Suguru's teasing. It was honestly never the best idea to date the local party thrower; it meant everyone was up in your business. It was rough after the breakup, because not only did random people come up to you asking questions and being rude, but Lewis chased you around for another two weeks persistently. Thankfully he never had the best attention span. 

You looked at Satoru with eyes that said, ‘please do not think I have bad taste!’ 

It was a lot to ask of Satoru when he did not even know the guy, and you did not know why you felt like you had to justify anything. After all, aren't you two just friends through a mutual connection? It did not feel right to watch Satoru stare at you and Suguru with a blank face while Suguru teased you about some stupid high school ex. But it also didn't feel right for Satoru to feel this bubbling jealousy within him, hearing about your old relationship with this guy you might potentially see tonight, whom you've known longer than you've known him.

“No, I get it. Sounds like a fun guy, huh?” Satoru's tone from earlier flattened just a notch. Not really noticeable to most people, but you and Suguru knew. You've known Satoru for barely a week and a half, and you've come to notice little changes in his voice almost the same way Suguru can notice them. The difference is, you use them as a cue to change topics to something that'll lift his spirits, while Suguru doubles down on things.

“Oh, the most fun guy ever! He threw gummy bears in his pool and timed himself on how fast he could fish out as many of them using just his mouth.” Suguru’s back went against the tree bark in a fit of laughter with a thud, remembering exactly what finally gave you the ick to break up with him. A mouthful of pool water and half-chewed gummies. 

“Yeah, I am going to sit this one out. You guys have fun.” You rolled your eyes at Suguru, who was still laughing like a maniac, and stood up while dusting off your skirt.

“Huh, why? ‘ Cause he might try to smooch you with a mouth full of gummies and pool water again?” And Suguru was back to laughing like it could be a threat to his lungs.

Without any more words, because there were none to defend yourself for dating a frat guy and expecting an intellectual and respectable relationship out of it. You walked away after waving Satoru a goodbye and ignoring Suguru, who was by that point on the grass, tired from giving himself a one-man comedy show.

“She was looking forward to going out this weekend. Do you think she'll be ok?” Satoru asked Suguru while his eyes were trained on you walking on the grass. 

“Yeah. She will be fine.” Suguru knew you better than him, so Satoru should barely doubt his words, but he couldn't help but needlessly worry when you didn't even look much bothered about the party other than the fact that Suguru just outed your dating history. 

“If she's not, you can always check on her.” Suguru stood up and, similarly to you, dusted his shorts before extending an arm towards him. 

Satoru did not say anything more to that, just grabbed onto his hand and stood back up on his feet. There was a silent understanding in the air that Suguru knew whatever Satoru was feeling. Suguru’s hand went up to his shoulder and placed itself there with a sharp slap. Satoru looked to his right and saw Suguru's eyes sharp and unforgiving, not his usual sly, half-smiling, kind eyes. 

“If you do anything stupid or hurt her, it's on sight.” Satoru let out a wheezing laugh and placed his own hand on Suguru's shoulder while looking him in the eye. 

“You got it.”

That's all they needed to speak on this. Any more, and Suguru would punch him square in the jaw unprovoked. It was not that Suguru was expecting him to sweep you off your feet or anything, and he knew Satoru was far from some prince charming. But he respects you two and trusts you, and despite his lifelong protective urges towards you, you were now a grown adult who was more than capable of making her own decisions, and he wanted to respect that. As long as Satoru didn't do anything stupid. Like that recent ex of yours, because when you go back on campus after the vacation, you might hear a thing or two about his fucked-up face or a neck collar. 

Not that it had anything to do with Suguru, surely.

In the blink of your eyes, almost three weeks have gone by since you came back here. And two weeks since you met Gojo Satoru. 

It was already Saturday night, and you were rotting in your bed as usual, trying to forget about the party that you truly had no will to go to. But somehow you could not help but let your mind wander there. Wondering how many people showed up, whether Suguru and Satoru were having a good time, and if Satoru found someone other than Suguru to talk to there. Which you assume he definitely did; he practically befriended everyone on your street, he is a favorite of the retired people at the country club, and he just blended right in with everyone.

It was one of those few summers you will be looking back at with a fond smile. All the parties you three crashed, all the nights you snuck away to the beach in Satoru’s off-white Maserati, all that weed you three burnt away in your room, the day when Suguru was cleaning up the garage and found the little inflatable pool in which you two used to play. It was hilarious for everyone to see three fully grown kids smooshed up in a little kids’ pool, splashing water at each other. 

You have come to love the little watermelon plant that spontaneously shot up from the ground in your backyard, exactly where you three were shooting watermelon seeds with your mouths to see who could get the furthest. You got the flimsy little plant a support stake and made sure to water it every day because you did not want it to wither away in this summer heat. 

Speaking of the summer heat, it seemed as though the weather started getting hotter from last night. When usually things cooled down after the sun set, everything your skin touched was sweating if the air conditioner was not on. And given the occasion tonight, you figured it was best to spend the entire Saturday at home. In the comfort of your bedroom, behind locked windows and doors, with the only source of light and noise being your laptop. 

That was until the wind outside your windows started picking up. It made you feel some relief that it was not going to be a streak of horrible hot days. 

The wind swung by your windows, making swishing noises and rattling the glass doors to your balcony. It made you want to shift your focus from the mind-numbing show playing on your screen to whatever that was going on outside. The swinging trees, sharp wind, dark red hued clouds in the night sky, Satoru trying to climb over your balcony railing, spark of lightning and faint sound of thunder-

Oh, wait, let's backtrack. Did you just see that correctly? Was Gojo Satoru trying to climb into your balcony? Because who else could be in that baby blue cotton shirt and bouncy tuft of white hair? 

You rushed out of your bed, in your short shorts and tank top, probably as old as the eye bags that started to form under your eyes when you got into university. But you could not bother about that, or the crumbs of chips all over your top, and your unkempt and unbrushed hair. You just needed to get to Satoru in time before his wobbling body fell from your balcony and broke some bones in his body. 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” You grabbed onto his hand and pulled him towards you, then helped him jump over your balcony railings. 

“Climbing your tower, Rapunzel. Even though your hair looks more like a bird's nest than a rope.” He flashed you the whole set of his teeth at the end of his joke. Teasing you, trying to elicit a response out of you, as always.

“I will throw you off my balcony.” You deadpanned in return, ready to push him off, with your hands on his chest, pushing him ever so lightly to not actually make him lose his balance on the edge. He flew to catch yours and held onto them as he erupted into giggles, and the wind blew by his hair, getting it all over his eyes and face. And yet he still looked effortlessly gorgeous, as if that's exactly how it was supposed to look.

“Ok, ok, I just came here ‘cause I got bored at that party; the gummy bear guy lost his edge. It was just people pretentiously gathering around the pool and going, ‘Oh! Are you studying there? I am going here!’ and Suguru fled with some girl, so here I am.” Satoru sat down on the floor of your balcony, with his back against the railing. And pulled you down to sit right in front of him, facing him, with hands still held in his. 

“Also just missed ‘ya.” He said it with such ease and nonchalance, like it was the most obvious answer. It was just a simple little line that crossed more lines between you two than anything, boundaries that must exist in a friendship. All just gradually blurring out of existence. 

“Y’wanna go to the pool?” He says to break your train of thought to get rid of the questions and silence in the air. 

“You were just complaining about people gathering around a pool.”

“So? It was more of a critique of the crowd than the pool; the poor pool has seen some things—leave it alone!”

At this point your hands, which were in his grip, were forgotten. It was like the most natural thing. It feels as natural as pushing your glasses up on your head and forgetting about them.

“Ok, ok, but you want to swim in our pool in this weather? Also, I don't know when my parents last got it cleaned.” Since you came back, you've never once used that thing, and you were never exactly there to see when your parents’ pool boy came around to clean it. 

“Not your pool, silly!” He bounced your hands with his, making a ripple of movement in your entire upper body. “Then?” “I meant the one at the club.”

You just blinked and watched him. With a smile on his face, he did not look one bit hesitant about his suggestion. And honestly, his idea made you want to rather check out how clean or not your pool is instead of trespassing on the property where your family was a regular.

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that without turning on alarms?” 

“I know the security code.” Your narrowed eyes did not look convinced with his answer. 

“How even—” “I play billiards with the general manager.” It did make sense for a social butterfly like Satoru himself to befriend the most terrifying guy in the entire club. The general manager was quite the grump; he was a nice old man. He helped you out of the pool once when you almost drowned because you wanted to join your then high school friends instead of being upfront about not knowing how to swim. The general manager later, when you seemed stable enough, scolded you while drying off your hair with a towel.

“That old man who is always annoyed at every living, breathing thing?”

“Yep. He said, I remind him of his late husband!” Which wasn't far off the mark; the general manager’s husband recently passed away from what you heard from our parents, leaving him to be more annoyed at everything. And Satoru had a similar, blasé positive energy radiating off of him. 

“So you seduced him!?” You jokingly said before pulling your hands out of his and moving to sit beside him, similar to him, with your back to the railing, knees under your chin, and thighs close to your chest.

“Nope. The only person I am trying to seduce is you.” Satoru’s head tilted to the side, and he kept looking at you. Recently, since he caught you checking him out while he was washing his car, his words and actions towards you have gotten bolder.

“Well….you should try harder.” You tried to lighten the tension in the air, which was now at least two or three degrees colder and felt suffocatingly hot, until he spoke up, still staring right into your eyes, with a faint trace of a smile on his lips, “I will.”

There was nothing more left to say after what he said, nothing, not even a joke to retaliate against the frustrating tension hanging heavy between you, making it impossible for you to breathe normally around Satoru.

“So! You're coming with me, or should I kidnap you?” You wish you could say no, but there was no refusing Gojo Satoru; that much you've learned about him clearly in these last couple of weeks.

As you looked out of the glass of the front window, exactly where the headlights of Satoru's car fell, on the side gate of the country club, only accessible by the employees. And yet here you were, getting dragged out of the soft leather seat of the car to sneak through that door with Satoru. Follow his steps closely from behind as he leads you to the pool by dragging you by your hand.

Without any word, Satoru let go of your hand once you two stepped on the paved concrete around the pool. Going straight to strip down to his boxers, his back muscles flexed with each step he took towards the pool. And some of the cold water in the pool splashed on you as he dived inside.

“You comin’ or what?” Satoru then intentionally splashed some water your way, absolutely drenched in the chloride-smelling water. 

“This is as far as I go.” You walked up to the edge of the pool and sat down with your legs in the water. It made you flinch at first, surprising you how quickly the water cooled down since the sun set. The water started to feel nicer around your skin as you watched Satoru do several laps in the water. 

He looked magnificent. One second he was at one end of the pool, and in the blink of an eye he was on the other side. It was easy to lose sight of him; he used the water to his advantage like a pro, which made you wonder if he did swimming back in school. How else was he able to hold his breath underwater so long that it had you worried enough to not notice his silhouette coming up to your legs and dragging you in the water?

“What are you—” You would have slapped his hands instantly off of your thighs if you knew what he was actually up to when they slithered up on them. Instead you were now in the cold chloride water, in Gojo Satoru's arms, trying to grab onto his shoulder and locking your legs around his waist.

It took you a few good minutes to acclimate yourself. With the cold water, and the feeling of drenched shorts and shirt, and especially the feeling that came from being in his arms. You could feel his body radiating heat even in the cold water and the vibrations that rumbled in his chest from laughing at the state of you, a clueless cat thrown off-guard in water.

“You, you're so dead.” His laughs only became deeper at your threats, and his arms tightened around your waist.

“Oh, c’mon, a little water never did anyone harm.” Satoru finally stopped laughing and just smiled at you; his gaze could not remain just on your eyes—they wavered. His pretty blue eyes scaled your face as if he were an archaeologist who just found a new artifact. 

And under the scrutiny of his eyes, you could not continue the banter. It was agonizing to have the little 3-inch gap between you two; it felt more like 3 miles. So you couldn't help but close that distance. Satoru had similar ideas, as he met you halfway through. 

His lips were everything and more that you ever imagined and dreamed of. 

They were soft, and they tasted faintly of those fruit candies he always crunched on: oranges, strawberries, lemons, and pineapples. And overall he oddly tasted of summer. Like the embodiment of everything you ever wanted from an ideal summer. As his lips slotted themselves with yours with more assurance after the first few pecks to measure the boundaries he could step on, you could feel the giddy tingles back in your stomach, shivers that prickled the back of your nape and ran down your spine, when his tongue pushed against yours. 

The hand that crept from your waist to your ass and pushed you up in his arms, your arms tightened around his neck, and one of your own hands went up his nape to his hair, the ends of which were now drenched in the pool water. And you wondered how you've been living without this, without kissing him silly the very day you met him, light tan and sweat covering his body, and just a cap to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. 

“Hey! Is someone there!?” 

You pushed away from him in a snap when the voice reached your ears. You had to push Satoru away by his shoulders to stop him from chasing your lips from the lack of their warmth on his. 

When the guard blew on his whistle, that's when his eyebrows shot up. You placed your index finger on his lips as you saw them part so his voice wouldn't confirm the security guard's suspicions. And he nodded his head once to let you know he won't. 

In a swift few seconds, Satoru swam to the edge of the pool, with you now in both of his arms, like a princess he needed to cradle close to his heart to keep her safe—you found it silly. The platform in the pool on which he was standing was barely five and a half feet deeper than the surface of the water. It was absolutely possible for you to walk to the edge by yourself, but you liked being in his arms. Even if the wiser thing to do in this situation would've been to separately make a run for it. 

Once you two were out of the pool, he grabbed onto your hand in one hand, took both of your shoes in another, and his clothes under his armpit, and then made a run for it. You both ran barefoot on the concrete and crushed the dewy grass under your feet.

“HEY! YOU TWO! STOP RIGHT THERE!” The guard tried to shine his flashlight on you two.

“Don't turn around.” Satoru said while dragging you two towards the main entrance, avoiding the pebble path, and instead running across the prohibited grass fields. 

It was the most invigorating rush you've felt in years. 

Satoru did not stop his car until he was far enough from the country club. He parked his car by the riverbank, turned off his engine, and finally lay back in his seat with an exasperated sigh. You two sat staring ahead towards the river, then towards your sides, when your eyes landed on each other, and neither of you could hold back your laughter. 

It was the most natural thing to be here with him, in your drenched clothes, him in his boxers, in his expensive-ass car, laughing like you two did not just commit a crime, one moment; and in the next moment you're on his lap and kissing him hungrily. 

It was so good. 

There was something about the cramped space, especially how his car was built; there was even less space compared to other cars—something that you usually get annoyed at, especially when you end up in the excuse of a backseat because of Suguru and his stupid long legs, but this time around you did not mind it. 

You did not mind when his hands roamed up your back, hot and dry, a clear contrast to your wet and soggy clothes. It felt like everything had slowed down, from the cars on the road down to the gravity, and it was just you and him, against each other, lips slotted together like two perfect pieces of a puzzle, tongues exploring every little crevice in your mouths, and hands all over one another. You could feel his cock growing under you in his soggy boxers, incentivizing you to move your hips in a slow rhythm. He wasn't even sure anymore if it was wet from the water or just his precum. You could not take your hands off his shoulders nor out of his hair, and he could not take his hands off your ass and hips. It was addictive, and in the humidity of the summer night, it was more than enough to drive you crazy. 

Desperate to feel more of him, more of his skin, you tried to take off your t-shirt while still kissing him, reluctant to take your lips off of his, even just for a second.

“Wait, sweets-wait.” He spoke in between your lips and pushed himself away from you. Without any explanation, he opened the doors on his side and went out of the car and pulled you out as well.

He haphazardly opened his back backdoor, pushed his front seat forward to make more room for the two of you, and lightly pushed on your lower back to make you get inside. Which you did, and finally took off everything on your upper body, then laid down on the seat and held yourself by your elbows, waiting for him to get in as well. 

“Get in here.” You asked him, as you moved forward, to pull him inside the car by his neck, and your lips were back on each other. Your hands traced the shape of his cock over his boxers, and you tried to take off his boxers and slip your hands inside.

“Uh-uh, you first, sweets.” You didn't really understand what he meant by that; you just stared at his pretty smile and trusted whatever he wanted to do. But you couldn't have guessed what he did next. His right hand grabbed the back of your knees, and his other hand was on the seat for support. With flawless movements, your back was flat against his car seat, and he was in between your legs. 

He started from your temples, soft lingering kisses on your eyes, the tip of your nose, a peck on your lips, and on your jaw. Then he went on to suck and bite all around your neck, with every intention to leave marks visible to anyone who tried to stare at you longer than ten seconds, which was generous in his opinion. 

“I've been itching to get my hands on these pretty things.” His hands got a hold of your tits, squeezing them, fingers teasing one nipple while the other felt salient attention from his mouth. As his mouth swirled around your areolas, and his teeth bit down and pulled on your nipples while maintaining clear eye contact with you, you could feel the wetness between your legs dripping down your slit.

“Ugh—Satoru, ah, fuck.” You didn't really have anything to add, other than the moans and grunts that left your mouth. And his hands remained on your hips, rubbing up and down in soothing movements, as his lips continued to kiss downward once he had his fill of teasing your tits and was satisfied with the amount of marks he left behind on each mound and the valley in between them. A true scenic masterpiece in his opinion. 

He stopped right above the waistband of your shorts before pulling them down with careful and calculated movements until you lay bare before his eyes. “Hah. No panties, huh?” He placed his mouth above your pelvic bone, right before your clit, and you could feel his mouth stretching into that very familiar devious smile on your skin. 

“Sato—” 

Your words remained in your mouth, and instead you let out a sharp yelp as his tongue took a long strip of lick from under your navel down to your clit. It was an awkward position to be stuck in, half bent, back almost hitting the ceiling of his car, one knee on the floor of his car, between his legs, and his foot was pressed against the door. But nothing bothered him more than the lack of your taste on his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You kept on chanting as your hands went to get a tight grip in your hair, almost pulling out a patch of white pearly hair, as his tongue continued to swirl around your clit. And the hands around your hips moved down to your thighs as they tightened around his head, holding a deathly grip around them but doing nothing to loosen them, probably digging his nails deep enough to leave marks and broken skin. 

“Oh, I've fucking dreamed of dying between these pretty things. Fuck. Do your worst, baby.” 

You wish you were the one wrecking him, even if he insisted he was the one blissed right out of his mind, between your legs, tongue teasing your pussy lips. One look at your face and anyone could tell who was absolutely fucked here. There was nothing imploring about how he dove right in like a starved man at your mercy. His teeth pulled your lips open to lick a long and anguished strip down from your clit to your now twitching hole. And in went his tongue.

Burning hotter than the summer sun, you were a puddle on his lips, like a melting popsicle. 

“Sht—shit, shit. Ugh, ah, AH!” 

Each one of your moans was returned with the vibration of his own grunts and moans, which ran through your core, making it worse for you to hold onto any semblance of sanity that remained intact. And it was hard to do that when his left hand was kneading your abdomen, and his thumb was rubbing away on your clit, and his right hand was digging into your thighs, pulling them up on his shoulder, all the while his lips sucked away every drop of arousal your cunt dripped, and his tongue poked around your walls.

“Please, Satoru, just—just please, want—no, need you inside.” You took one of your hands from where it was in his hair, which was now almost dry, and placed it on top of his hand on your abdomen. And without even moving his face, his fingers intertwined with yours and held onto them for his dear life as he finished giving you the first of the many orgasms for tonight. 

“FUCK, Sat— AH, ah.” And you had nothing more than broken moans and words stuck in your throat to let out. 

It was only when he was done lapping up everything with nimble licks that his hand let go of yours, which was shaking and almost numb. “Not just yet, sweets; gotta stretch you out properly.” 

And the fingers that were just tangled with yours were now inside you. You were simply so out of it that you didn't even realize when his tongue got replaced with his finger, one at first, slowly mapping out the shape and ridges of your walls from within. Then two more to stretch you out well enough to accommodate him. 

“There!” Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your head went back as his fingers found that one spot that almost drove you right over the edge in mere seconds. 

“Here?” His head tilted as he pulled his fingers halfway out, teasing you even in this state, and saying things like he was the pitiful one in this equation. What a liar. 

“Satoru, for fuck's sake!” Your hands flew to cover your eyes as your back arched off of the car seat; if it weren't for his right hand and shoulder holding you down, you would've probably fallen off.

“You surely know how to ask nicely for what you y’want.” You could see him smiling like a little shit between your legs when you took your hands off your eyes and instead dug your nails into his expensive car seat. Not like he minded.

“Will you just let me cum, Satoru?” Your tone was faux sweet, wavering at the mercy of his fingers turning inside of you.

“I need you to beg properly, baby.” 

Satoru’s instructions came out as a matter-of-fact; his smile disappeared and left behind the piercing cerulean eyes, boring into your soul.  

“Pleas—please, please, Satoru, let me cum.” Never in your life have you ever begged for anything like this; this was a first, and you could not be more glad that it was Gojo Satoru in between your legs, eliciting these embarrassing sides of you, instead of someone else. 

And his smile returned to his face, and his fingers went right to work. It took him no more than two minutes to have you come undone on his fingers for the second time since you two ended up in his car. And there was nothing but exasperated breathing in the air, which Satoru assumed was probably more humid than the air outside, when he saw the windows fogged up. It made him chuckle to himself, thinking how cliché this was. But given the state he has gotten you in, he can't waste any more time before you pass out from just two orgasms. So he sat up and got rid of his underwear, finally feeling less suffocated.

“Don't have any condoms, sweets.” Satoru caressed the side of your face, making sure you didn't already pass out. He had no intention of pressuring you into anything; one word and he is cleaning you up, getting you some water, and driving you home to tuck you in your bed and cuddle you to sleep. 

“Don't fucking care…… on birth control.” He chuckled at your scrambling and slurred words before he maneuvered you so that one of your legs was on his shoulder and the other was over his thigh, around his waist. He rubbed the head of his cock in your folds, getting whatever leftover juices that he could not lick clean all over his cock. 

“WILL YOU JUST GET INSIDE?” You could not just tolerate any more of his teasing, so you had to take things into your own hands. Literally, as you moved one hand between the both of you and pushed his tip inside you, that was enough to have you flat on your back, unable to initiate anything else. Satoru also leaned forward from the sudden sensation of your slippery warm walls. 

“Ah, fuck, don't rush it, sweets.” His whimpering was not helping you any more than the burning stretch you felt from just his tip. And he could tell from how your mouth fell open and the nails that dug into his seats harder than before. So he gave the both of you a second to adjust. It was no easy job to acclimate to the heat that you offered; it was dizzying, but he welcomed this heat over the burning sun. 

“I’m goin’ in.” It was only after you gave him a late nod that he pushed the rest of him inside of you. And both of your yelps and grunts remained in the car. But surely if someone passed by, either one of your moans was enough to make them figure out the obvious. 

Once he was inside, you assumed the never-ending dizziness that you felt around him, the rush of accidental touches, and heavy breaths—it'll all come to an end. Unfortunately, nothing really stopped; instead, there was something worse, something hotter and more imprudent between you two now. Each thrust of his hips and the kisses that he placed on your legs: everything was incinerating. And you wanted it all; it didn't matter if it was forever or a week, you needed this summer to never end. 

“Ah—so good, sweets, so good to me.” Satoru kept on placing kisses around your shin, your ankle, and your knees, even leaning slightly down to bite down on your thighs. While his other hand pushed down on your abdomen, you felt his cock going in and out of you, and it was all so surreal—the warmth of your walls, your drooling mouth, the whimpers that left your throat, and those glazed eyes that refused to look away from him. And he didn't want this moment to ever end; he didn't want to pretend like every passing touch of your skin didn't burn him alive, that he could live on from here on forward without having you in his grasp.

“I, I’m coming, ‘toru.” 

“Fuck, sweets—come with me. Please.” 

He dropped your leg on the seat and pulled you on his lap, even while he still remained buried within you. In those last few minutes, he didn't move his hips with the same fervor as before; you two just grinned at each other, chasing your highs, the rush of having each other all to yourselves. With his face buried in your neck, kissing everywhere, down from the column of your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, his arms around you tightened. And your nails dug into his shoulders as your tongues tangled with one another again, and this time you could taste the remnants of yourself in his mouth. As you both broke away from the kiss, with a single string of aliga connecting you two, all it took was one look for the both of you to come simultaneously. 

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, sweets.”

“I know—I know, Satoru.” 

And you two came together, holding onto each other for your dear lives, kissing one another into some other worldly ecstasy. You could feel his cum shooting up and pooling inside of you, and he could feel you twitching in his arms, your walls tightening, getting warmer with his cum dripping down and slipping out between you two. It took a while for you to come down from the high, and yet neither of you was willing to let go.

“Are you ok, sweets?” He asked while placing feather-light kisses on your shoulders while nudging your head slightly that remained steady on his shoulder. 

“Mmhmm.” You did not have anything in you to utter a single comprehensible sentence. And Satoru knew that well enough to not push you any more; he chuckled to himself and let himself enjoy your company like this for a little longer. And he told himself a few minutes more, and then he'll properly clean you up and take you home.

While you drifted away into sleep, with a matching smile on your face, you told yourself how different this summer has been. And how, despite the disgusting heat and humidity, you never wanted this summer to end. To have one another in your arms, with reciprocity, and with the same rush that made your head silly that day you met—it was so good. 

And you wanted the best out of this summer.

a/n: dividers by @/omi-resources. pictures from Pinterest, art by @/m0ryy

lmao ik i have two big wips in the works rn but lol when i saw moryy's art my mind just suddenly flooded with this plot and i was already singing rush by Troye Sivan in my head for the last few days lol ok and i have like 4 exams tmr bye i gotta cry and study.

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @teddytoru @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @soupicidesquad @indiewritesxoxo @gojosconsort @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi @emochosoluvr

[sa1ntd1or]

Does thou take Requests?

If so, Batboys with reader who just drops secrets randomly

Like

"Oh yeah no I killed the president"

Or

"Oh shit my dyes Fading out'

˖ ֹ੭୧ SECRETS? I GOT SUM.. ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

ˋ°•*⁀➷ batboys react to chaotic!reader dropping random secrets/lore !

ˋ°•*⁀➷ CHARACTERS: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Aged up!Damian Wayne

NOTES: I should probably mention that i do take requests! also tysm to everyone whos interacting with my page!! I hope you guys are liking everything so far :)

BRUCE WAYNE:

The gala was going well.

NO explosions. No joker. No shady arms deals happening in the bathroom… yet. Just a bunch of billionaires schmoozing, reporters flashing cameras and Bruce Wayne doing his best impression of a charming philanthropist instead of a morally exhausted shadow in a batsuit.

You’re standing beside him, smiling with practised ease as your hand is looped through his arm. The press loves you. The cameras love you. Bruce might even be, dare he think it, relaxed.

Until…

“Isn’t it crazy how i’ve got blackmail on most of these people?”

You say it with a giggle, sipping your champagne like you just told a funny joke. 

Bruce blinks, stiffening. “You…what?”

You look around the ballroom casually. “Yeah. That guy tried to bribe a UN official in 2017. That woman funded a coup. And the old man by the buffet? Funny story, I intercepted one of his shipments of illegal uranium and used it to build a fake bomb to stop a paramilitary group in Sudan.”

Bruce just looked at you like you declared yourself a Bond villain. 

“You committed international espionage…”

“Oh no, babe, warfare. The CIA tried to recruit me after that. I ghosted them though, not my cup of tea.”

The man just blinked, slowly. “You..what.”

You lean in, grinning. “Relax. The uranium wasn’t weapons grade. I’m not a monster!”

Bruce’s soul basically leaves his body. 

“I need to sit down.”

You hum. “Dont hurry. I scrubbed the files. Mostly…”

“Mostly?!”

DICK GRAYSON:

You and Dick are enjoying a surprising and rare quiet morning.

Pancakes. The warm sun. You’re wearing one of his shirts, hes barefoot in the kitchen, hair slightly messy, humming something off-key while pouring coffee. Domestic Heaven. 

You’re sitting on the counter, scrolling through your phone and kicking your feet like a kid. Dick places the coffee cup next to you and moves himself between your legs, hands on your thighs, grinning up at you like you were the moon.

“God, I love you.” He murmured.

You grin, booping him on his nose. “I love you.”

And then, casually, as you pick your cup up and take a sip of your coffee:

“By the way, if MI6 calls, just hang up. I already told them I;m not giving back the diamond.”

Dick pauses. “…What diamonds.”

You took another casual sip. “Oh, just the crown jewels.”

His soul immediately leaves his body. 

“Not those crown jewels. I’m not a monster.” You clarified, his postures relaxing before tensing up again. “just some lesser ones. The Dutch stash, technically. I borrowed them to distract a Russian arms dealer. Had to stage a heist in Amsterdam and everything. So fun.”

Dick, blinking rapidly spit out: “You stole—you stole royal artifacts. From a European monarchy.”

You sip your coffee. “Not stole. Relocated. Temporarily.”

“Where are they now?”

“…I think I buried them under a goat farm in Switzerland?”

“WHAT?”

“WHAT?”

You squint. “Or maybe it was the bunker in Peru. I had jet lag. Hard to say.”

Dick backs up like you just admitted to eating a senator.

You: “Anyway, MI6 keeps calling. Super annoying. I blocked them last week.”

He stares.

You tilt your head, playful. “You okay, baby?”

He runs a hand through his hair, muttering:

“I thought Jason was the reckless one. I thought Damian was the violent one. But you… you are a one-person worldwide incident waiting to happen.”

“That’s why you love me.”

And Dick knows, that he absolutely does, against all logic and reason.

JASON TODD:

It’s late.

Jason has his head on your lap while you’re both on the old, beat-up leather couch in his apartment. He’s shirtless. You’re running your fingers through his hair. A crappy action movie is playing on TV, the room lit only by the screen. 

He feels safe like this. Unguarded. The world feels quiet. He could almost fall asleep.

Then you hum softly and say, out of nowhere:

“Y’know, sometimes I miss North Korova.”

Jason opens one eye. “Where?”

“North Korova. Tiny dictatorship. Snowy. Lots of wolves.”

“…What were you doing there?”

You stretch lazily. “Assassinated the president. Boring guy. Real genocidal freak, though. Had to sneak through a frozen ravine with nothing but a fork and a wire garrote. Good times.”

Jason sits up so fast your hand falls from his hair. “You what?”

You blink. “I mean I didn’t plan to kill him in my sleep. But he tried to stab me while I was pretending to be unconscious, so I reacted. He died. Not my fault.”

“You murdered a dictator in your sleep and acted like that’s just… whatever?”

You nod, brushing a crumb off your pajama pants. “Well, technically I was working for a rebel faction. It was very Robin Hood. The people were happy.”

Jason just stares.

“They gave me a goat.”

“…”

You smile brightly. “Her name was Muffin. I left her with a mercenary couple in Greenland. Super cute. She follows people like a dog.”

Jason puts a hand to his face like he’s aged ten years. “I’m supposed to be the unstable one in this relationship.”

You lean in, kiss his cheek. “Aww, baby. You are. I just have better stories.”

Jason, blinking at the wall. “what is my life."

TIM DRAKE:

It’s a rainy Sunday. You and Tim are working from home.

You’re sprawled across the floor with a face mask on, editing a video on your laptop. Tim’s pacing the kitchen, phone to his ear, mumbling something about quarterly projections and board voting percentages.

Tim ends the call, slipping down the couch to sit next to you. “Hey, babe, do you want pad thai or ramen?”

“Ramen’s fine. Oh, and remind me after your done, we need to send flowers to my clone.”

“Yeah, cool. Wait, what?”

You glance up. “My clone. She woke up from cryo. I think she’s in Lisbon now.”

Tim slowly lowers the phone. “Your… clone.”

You nod, still typing. “Yeah. Technically she's more of a bio-duplicate made during a secret genetics trial I didn’t know I was part of. But clone's faster.”

The blue eyed boy just stares at you. Allowing his brain to wrap around the new fact you just dropped on him. 

“YOU HAVE A BIO-DUPLICATE?!”

You wave him off. “It was years ago. Long story. The agency folded. She escaped. I helped her vanish. We text sometimes.”

Tim, blinking at you in silence:

“You have a genetically identical person running around in Europe who could be used to frame you for literally anything… and you text her?”

“Yeah. We use emojis though. She likes frogs.”

“This is insane.”

“No, this is genetics.”

He starts muttering under his breath, pacing again. “I’m dating someone with an evil twin. Or possibly a government experiment. Or both. This is like a Bond movie written by a mad scientist…”

You grin up at him. “She’s not evil. Just stabby.”

“That’s somehow worse.”

You go back to editing. “Anyway, ramen sounds great.”

AGED UP!DAMIAN WAYNE:

It’s late evening. The manor is quiet.

You’re sitting on Damian’s bed, legs crossed, hair tied up, testing a new face serum. He’s seated at his desk, sharpening one of his blades with silent precision.

You were showing Damian your very carefully curated skincare routine, you had been for the past 5 minutes and he was grunting in vague agreement every now and then.

“So this one's from a small apothecary in Prague,” you say to him. “It’s ethically sourced, non-toxic, no parabens—and fun fact, it’s like the one I used after I made a deal for that war criminal’s soul in Morocco.”

Damian pauses mid-sharpen. “…I’m sorry. You did what.”

You look up casually. “Oh. Yeah. He offered me immunity in exchange for eternal binding rights to his soul. So I took it.”

Damian slowly sets the dagger down. “You are not trained in necromantic law.”

You shrug. “It was instinctual. I just said the words and boom. Magical soul transfer. His ghost haunts my backup phone now.”

“You trapped a war criminal’s soul in your cell phone?”

“It was either that or let him escape into the astral plane. I had no service anyway, might as well multitask.”

Damian looks genuinely shaken. “You’re not even a sorcerer.”

You casually shrugged. “I watched a tutorial. It was in Latin. Kind of.”

Damian stares at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. “Beloved… I do not know if I should kneel or run.”

“Why not both?” You send him a teasing wink.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Damian slowly gets up, crosses the room, and takes your hand.

“If anything happens to you, I will slaughter gods. I just need you to know that.”

You grin. “That’s why I love you.”

[hatchan]

You're right and you should say it!

I recently learned a phrase called "dishonest harmony" and I brought this in to show my therapist because I was like "This. This is what I'm really good at. I've been training in this my whole life. But I don't think that's a good thing??"

People pleasing behavior leads to dishonest harmony. We can get really really really good at maintaining harmonious social relationships that are based fundamentally on pretending we don't hate everything about it.

This is from an email I got as being part of Captain Awkward's Patreon:

Dishonest harmony describes the illusion of social peace & cohesion manufactured by the deliberate suppression of conflict, i.e. “We can all get along and have a good time as long as nobody brings up The Incident.” Dishonest harmony (sometimes called dishonest peace) can absolutely be a strategic choice, as patron Rachel S. eloquently describes:

"I am using it to describe a choice I am making in a relationship to not address an intractable issue in favor of maintaining the relationship. Before I was introduced to "Dishonest peace" I was calling it "superficially pleasant". Another way to think about it is maximizing the things I like about a relationship and refusing to engage around the issue that I don't. So I am choosing dishonest peace instead of honest conflict."

In Captain Awkward lingo, it's the assumption that if you are a reasonable person who is capable of remaining calm in the face of other people's shitty behavior, it's somehow easier to pressure you to keep putting up with shitty behavior forever than it is to impose consequences for shitty behavior on unreasonable people. Again, in working on the book, I have been trying to pinpoint the source of the enduring fear that runs underneath some of the common questions I get. Especially questions where there's a solution that should be straightforward, easy, obvious, etc. on the surface ("Just RSVP 'no thanks' and don't go", "Just be honest about how you feel," "Just tell them to knock it off already," etc.) and yet? The questioner is experiencing a seemingly disproportionate amount of worry and self-doubt. "Is this normal?" "Am I making it awkward because I'm just an awkward person?" "Since I'm the only one who seems bothered by this, maybe everyone is right that I'm overreacting and I should just let it go?" "Am I even allowed to feel upset about this?" "If I speak up about this am I gonna lose [my job][my relationship][all my friends][my whole family]?" These questions also tend to include a request for scripts that will stop other people's stressful behavior without ever making anyone feel bad, which feels to me like a recognition that maintaining dishonest harmony is a baseline expectation of the antagonist in the problem. If someone who mistreats you also has the power to put your housing, livelihood, and safety at risk if they don't get their way, "Can I afford to piss this person off right now?" can be quite a literal question.

Just, if there's a solution to be had, it can't be about individually improving ourselves to become more callous and cool about uncool, shitty behavior. "Politely" going with the flow might be the least worst among bad options, for a lot of reasons: You may not feel safe speaking up, especially knowing that other people are unlikely to have your back. If you depend on an unrepentant asshole for safe housing or continued employment, the costs of speaking up might literally outweigh the costs of staying silent, at least in the near term. But also, any time we calculate the costs of dishonest harmony vs. honest conflict, the cost-benefit analysis has to include both the cost to ourselves and the opportunity costs of doing nothing. If all of my reactions are "overreactions," what is the cost of not reacting? If leaving a party where people say racist stuff is "ruining" the party, what's the cost of showing up to or remaining at shitty racist parties? You may decide that preserving a given relationship is worth making a conscious effort to focus on the positives in the present and ignore the other person's bad behavior in the past, but that doesn't mean it doesn't cost anything, it means you've chosen to bear the costs (the pain of cognitive dissonance, the effort of suppressing what you know to be true, the pain of going against what you know to be right, or what Dan Savage has called "the price of admission") because the alternatives are worse or because the potential rewards are worth it to you. Your generosity, your patience, your hope that someday things might be different if you can extend a little grace? Those are gifts you can choose to give, not something you owe.

^^^^ these are just some highlights that I thought added to this post, but I'll copy the full text below the cut for anyone who wants to read the post in full:

"Dishonest Harmony: Explained" by Captain Awkward

I promised you a post about this after the poll from the other day, and here it is!

I stumbled across this term recently on TikTok where I follow a lot of ADHD and AuDHD creators, and it made a whole bunch of things about awkwardness fall into place. I want to do some more research about the origin of the term so I can give proper credit and citation, but here is my understanding so far.

Dishonest harmony describes the illusion of social peace & cohesion manufactured by the deliberate suppression of conflict, i.e. “We can all get along and have a good time as long as nobody brings up The Incident.”

Dishonest harmony (sometimes called dishonest peace) can absolutely be a strategic choice, as patron Rachel S. eloquently describes:

"I am using it to describe a choice I am making in a relationship to not address an intractable issue in favor of maintaining the relationship. Before I was introduced to "Dishonest peace" I was calling it "superficially pleasant". Another way to think about it is maximizing the things I like about a relationship and refusing to engage around the issue that I don't. So I am choosing dishonest peace instead of honest conflict."

We'll come back to this, but first I want to talk about a) dishonest harmony as a tool that power uses to maintain itself and enforce its authority, b) a consistent source of awkwardness, and c) the price it exacts.

Think about every period drama about elaborate systems of manners and dress where the question of "Will Mr. Ten Thousand A Year make a good husband for our plucky heroine?" is completely divorced from "Does he own his fellow human beings (& does he torture them himself or does he outsource all that to the overseers and just bank the profits)?" What's "ruder" in a ballroom setting, being somewhat disinclined to dance, wearing the wrong outfit, or asking that question about your prospective partners?

Think about every "Has the #MeToo Movement Gone Too Far?" article that tried to make the case that loudly objecting to being assaulted at work en masse is somehow worse than assaulting people at work en masse and how rude and annoying and shrill it is for rape victims to "ruin" everyone else's enjoyment of art by rapists. Think about The Case(s) of The Creepy Dude, where having every single woman bounce out of the friend group when she gets tired of being groped is somehow "easier" for the men than the potential friction of kicking out the groper.

Think about every letter to Captain Awkward Dot Com where the gist is "Not only are my loved ones totally fine with hanging out with my abuser, they also berate and punish me for not wanting to hang out with my abuser." Less dramatic perhaps, but no less painful is the cognitive dissonance of interacting with family members who cannot ever confront or admit the pain they cause. Turns out you can go home again, as long as you pretend that your childhood never happened and find a way to remain placid around people who think that your memories of what they did to you are something between malicious lies and personal attacks.

Workplaces run on dishonest harmony. If you asked 1000 strangers to define "professionalism" you'd get a lot of information about punctuality, how to dress, behave, and communicate, as well as a multitude of field-specific expectations for necessary qualifications and professional standards. But would anybody tell you about the part where you are supposed to remain calm, cheerful, and productive no matter how people treat you or what kind of abuses you witness? Sure, your boss pulled a machete out in a meeting, and your coworker screams at you to the point that it's damaging your health, but that's no excuse to slack off!

As I've been revising the book, there's been this thing in my chest that I haven't known how to say about how the very worst moments of my life were not the times that someone did awful things to me, they were about what happened afterward when the people who were supposed to be on my side did nothing to stand up for me and everything to judge and punish me about my reaction to the awful things. I could never win. If I froze, fled, or fawned instead of fighting, then the problem was that I needed to get better at standing up for myself. If I fought back, I was a troublemaker out to ruin everyone's fun. "Just ignore it!" "They only do that because they know it will get a reaction!" "Two wrongs don't make a right!" (I swear, if my atoms physically expanded every time someone told me to be the bigger person when someone harassed or bullied me, by now my mass would block out the fucking sun.) And if I spoke honestly about it, by pointing out bad behavior and double standards, or even just being honest about my own pain, then I was "overreacting," "causing drama," being "too sensitive," "making a big deal out of nothing," etc.

With serial "missing stairs," they would justify their own inaction with stuff like "Well, that's just how they are, it won't make any difference anyway" because in their minds nothing works to stand up to abusers except working patiently behind the scenes to gently change the hearts and minds of abusers by radiating eternal empathy and acceptance at them while pretending that it's not happening, or something. Believe me, I get the impulse to protect one's peace and conserve energy, and they were probably right about the feasibility of changing certain hearts and minds, but you know what? Even if they didn't know how to stop the abuse, it would have made a difference to me to hear,"You're not alone" or "That was incredibly messed up, I'm sorry, I have no idea what to do either." "You're right, but I can't afford to lose this job, that's why I didn't say anything." "Do you want to get out of here for a while?" "Can I bring you some water?" "Do you need a hug?" It would have made a difference to me to have someone be slightly more interested in my safety than their own comfort or how it might affect group cohesion if I remained visibly uncomfortable.

There's this old business parable/anecdote I heard one time, about the "last monkey." If the actual study existed and you know what it was, I'd love to know, but this is the version from my memory of being told about it:

Supposedly scientists did a study where they put bananas on top of a ladder in an enclosure full of monkeys, and when any monkey climbed the ladder to get the bananas, they whole group got punished. by being drenched with icy water. Once the monkeys knew to avoid the ladder, they stopped the punishments. Instead, they gradually introduced new monkeys to the group, and when those monkeys tried to climb the ladder, the experienced monkeys would stop them, no ice water required. Over time, they swapped experienced monkeys out and new monkeys in until none of the original monkeys who had direct experience getting drenched remained. Adding new monkeys to this group produced the same results--New arrivals would be like "hey, banana!" and all the rest of the monkeys would be like "FORBIDDEN LADDER, NO!" and physically prevent them from climbing, even though they didn't know why, until finally everyone stopped trying.

I think the story was told to me in the context of entering a deeply dysfunctional workplace, and it was supposed to be a parable about, idk, the dangers of unquestioning obedience and how fresh eyes on problems from outside are good, actually, but also if you're the new guy and you point out a problem be prepared for coworkers entrenched in systems of punishment to react badly to change and take it out on you even if they can't articulate why. Also (again from memory), monkeys can't make words, so the warnings were less "Welcome, to LabCorp, Bradison! Please don't climb that ladder, you wont like it up there" and more along the lines of a group rugby tackle. FYI, there's an iconic Reddit post called "Don't Rock The Boat" that covers similar ground. In Captain Awkward lingo, it's the assumption that if you are a reasonable person who is capable of remaining calm in the face of other people's shitty behavior, it's somehow easier to pressure you to keep putting up with shitty behavior forever than it is to impose consequences for shitty behavior on unreasonable people.

Again, in working on the book, I have been trying to pinpoint the source of the enduring fear that runs underneath some of the common questions I get. Especially questions where there's a solution that should be straightforward, easy, obvious, etc. on the surface ("Just RSVP 'no thanks' and don't go", "Just be honest about how you feel," "Just tell them to knock it off already," etc.) and yet? The questioner is experiencing a seemingly disproportionate amount of worry and self-doubt. "Is this normal?" "Am I making it awkward because I'm just an awkward person?" "Since I'm the only one who seems bothered by this, maybe everyone is right that I'm overreacting and I should just let it go?" "Am I even allowed to feel upset about this?" "If I speak up about this am I gonna lose [my job][my relationship][all my friends][my whole family]?" These questions also tend to include a request for scripts that will stop other people's stressful behavior without ever making anyone feel bad, which feels to me like a recognition that maintaining dishonest harmony is a baseline expectation of the antagonist in the problem. If someone who mistreats you also has the power to put your housing, livelihood, and safety at risk if they don't get their way, "Can I afford to piss this person off right now?" can be quite a literal question.

Self-help as a genre tends to treat every issue like an individual skill issue. "Here are 10 easy steps for becoming less awkward and more assertive in life!" It's an appealing and timeless formula because we know that we can't fix other people, we can only control ourselves, and anything that offers more self-control and actualization feels automatically more achievable than something that relies on others to accomplish our goals. As a result, self-help as a genre tends to conveniently ignore power dynamics. Even books that are explicitly designed to address that stuff are like "Welp, you can't fix misogyny, so just lean in harder, girlboss the shit out of life, and you too can become so excellent (and rich) that maybe sexism stops affecting you on a personal level!"

It's hard to fix stuff if you can't be honest about where it's broken and the honest truth is that sometimes when we speak up on our own behalf, we lose. Not because we didn't use the right words, or because our timing was bad, or because we were "unprofessional" or "rude" or terminally awkward, but because the people we spoke up to decided that they would rather have dishonest comfort than honest conflict or honest solidarity with us. There are certainly ways to practice being more strategic with language choices and more confident with delivery over time, but there is no perfect, smooth, foolproof way to deliver news that the other person doesn't want to hear that guarantees that they will react a certain way. And to use a trope as old as time, some people would rather shoot the messenger than be forced to deal with the message.

So, what do we do about it? That's a long and complicated answer about something I just learned the word for, but I have a few initial suggestions which are less about finding the perfect way to exist at all times and more about switching your defaults and rebalancing power:

1. Recognize when dishonest harmony is being prioritized, demanded, and enforced and name it for what it is, even if you're only talking to yourself.

2. Recognize that there is always a cost to dishonest harmony, even when it's a choice. Time to recalculate those costs as if you are (at least) an equal participant in your relationships.

3. Going with the flow, smoothing things over, choosing to stay silent for the sake of a relationship or the "greater" good or longer-term goals, etc. are strategic choices, not absolute rules and certainly not moral requirements.

4. There is power in solidarity. You can't stop other people from behaving like assholes, but maybe you can learn to be the person you needed.

What that could look like in practice, using a common scenario:

You're at a party, and someone makes an offensive comment and tries to play it off as a joke. Some people laugh nervously, others don't react at all, and somehow you're the only person who is like "wow, what a gross thing to say." Sensing you're outnumbered, maybe you don't say anything out loud, but you do something, like grab your coat or ask for the check, because it's clearly time to call it a night. And suddenly, all the people who had nothing to say about the verbal turd that The Great Comedian just left in the punch bowl are very concerned about your reaction. "What's wrong, can't you take a joke? Why are you so sensitive? Come on, sit down, don't ruin everyone's good time! Stop overreacting so much!" 

Recognize and name that shit, even if it's just inside your head. This isn't about what an inherently awkward, dramatic, uncool person you are, this is a demand for dishonest harmony from people who prioritize the illusion that everyone is having fun over real evidence that you are not having fun anymore. If the gross thing the other person said didn't "ruin" the party, but your visible discomfort has the power to ruin "everyone's" fun, that's certainly interesting information! If the group has calculated that it costs less to police your reactions than it does to do anything about what you're reacting to, are they right about that? Maybe yes, but maybe no. Just because they bet on it doesn't make it true.

Just, if there's a solution to be had, it can't be about individually improving ourselves to become more callous and cool about uncool, shitty behavior. "Politely" going with the flow might be the least worst among bad options, for a lot of reasons: You may not feel safe speaking up, especially knowing that other people are unlikely to have your back. If you depend on an unrepentant asshole for safe housing or continued employment, the costs of speaking up might literally outweigh the costs of staying silent, at least in the near term. But also, any time we calculate the costs of dishonest harmony vs. honest conflict, the cost-benefit analysis has to include both the cost to ourselves and the opportunity costs of doing nothing. If all of my reactions are "overreactions," what is the cost of not reacting? If leaving a party where people say racist stuff is "ruining" the party, what's the cost of showing up to or remaining at shitty racist parties?

You may decide that preserving a given relationship is worth making a conscious effort to focus on the positives in the present and ignore the other person's bad behavior in the past, but that doesn't mean it doesn't cost anything, it means you've chosen to bear the costs (the pain of cognitive dissonance, the effort of suppressing what you know to be true, the pain of going against what you know to be right, or what Dan Savage has called "the price of admission") because the alternatives are worse or because the potential rewards are worth it to you. Your generosity, your patience, your hope that someday things might be different if you can extend a little grace? Those are gifts you can choose to give, not something you owe. And you don't get to choose what other people are willing to pay.

Because something we all need to reckon with is the fact that "stunned, disapproving silence when people act like bigots and assholes" looks just like "silent agreement with bigots and assholes" from the outside. If we never speak up because we assume that we're all alone or because it "won't make any difference anyway," then there's nothing to prove us wrong, but there's also nothing to light the beacons for anyone else or change the circumstances. If we internalize and enforce the expectation of polite, compliant silence at all costs on others just because we're afraid because of past bad experiences or because we don't want to bear the costs, then we risk becoming the enforcer monkeys (one might even say "flying monkeys") who would rather teach people why there is no point in fighting back than do any of the fighting ourselves. Sometimes you only find out who's on your side when you stop pretending there are no sides or that we're all on the same one. Or as Maud, a friend of Melissa McEwan (of Shakesville fame/notoriety) put it, "There are times when you must speak, not because you are going to change the other person, but because if you don't speak, they have changed you."

So greetings to my fellow boat rockers, last monkeys, "good" daughters, and anyone who has ever been screamed at to Calm Down and Stop Being So Emotional when all we did was fail to hold perfectly and let flecks of someone's rage-spittle decorate our faces until they were done talking and then pretend like it never happened. Dishonest harmony is expensive. Sometimes it's worth it, and sometimes it is extremely not worth it. When we return awkwardness to sender, think about it as sending the emotional dry-cleaning bill to assholes who won't stop pooping on the tablecloth, and then tell me who is being "rude" and "uncivil."

End of manifesto (for now).

Adult realization: you will make mistakes, you will act irrationally. You will commit some wrongs that cannot be fully righted. People will dislike you and misunderstand you for all sorts of reasons. None of these make you a bad person. All you can do is try your best to be kind and just to people, grow and learn.

[1980shorrorfilm]

you’ve seen the butcher

hey guys whats up

pairing…shauna shipman x fem!reader

in which…you make a new life for yourself after being rescued, but that doesn’t stop your ex from finding you.

before you read…18+. nsfw. smut!!!! post-rescue shauna. shauna shipman being shauna shipman. did i mention gay sex. everything is morally grey. wc 3.8k.

no one came to visit you. not friends, not family, just an occasional deer and fox that leave their friendly marks on the dirt surrounding your home, always near the blooming june flowers. 

though, you couldn’t say they were the ones who left a beat-up cardboard box on your porch.

you had yet to touch it, because that had meant bringing it inside, opening it, and seeing whatever the fuck it was. 

and nothing about an anonymous delivery with no return address, at your cabin in the middle of the damn woods, screams good news. 

especially when you’ve done your best to remain off the grid, and away from everyone that once knew you. those girls most importantly. what happened out there, stayed out there; that’s what she told you. 

the words that left shauna shipman’s mouth after you were rambling in your hospital bed that you do like her—like like her—your heartbroken self trying to keep what you two had before they found you.

the long romantic nights in your shared hut, whether that meant physical or simply holding her after she was comfortable enough to cry to you. 

that wasn’t often, shauna feared vulnerability. 

you guess that’s why she couldn’t face her feelings for you when there was a such thing as being in the public eye. why she kept whatever she still felt for you, a secret.

you, her secret. 

drunken sleepovers that made her feel alive again. locking you in the bedroom of some rando’s party. parking at the beach at night when it was just you and her and the water and the moon.

that didn’t last. she had jeff, and you had no one, just the weight of feeling like a burden. 

you had moved away quietly just a year ago. not a word was said to anyone because they would just try to talk you out of it. thinking it was some fucked up response to your trauma, moving to a remote location, your only neighbors being the trees and passing animals. 

maybe it was, or maybe it was just a cheap buy and a desperate urge to get away from everything. 

although, that didn’t mean you could truly leave the past, in the past. 

you get up from your dining chair, no longer able to occupy yourself with the latest flashy magazine you picked up in town, forcing yourself to walk to your front door. 

you open it, and the wind chimes hung on your porch greet you, the metal echoing while the sun sets over the cabin. the package is still sitting at the top of the steps, taunting you.

before you step outside, your eyes scan the area, from the tall vibrant green trees around your home, to whoever could be stalking behind them. there’s no one and nothing, so you push the screen door, the warm breeze hugging you when you walk over and grab the box, not wasting time to get back inside.

you bring it to the table, using a dull knife to cut through the messy tape, a scowl on your face at the idea of something gross being inside. 

luckily, it’s not.

it’s a vhs tape, no note, no other random object in the box, just that alone. eerie, and oddly intriguing. you slowly walk to the room over, kneeling before the boxed tv that’s currently on a broadcast of an old game show. the laughter from the speakers cuts off when you switch the channel, inserting the tape into the player beside you.

you should be more hesitant, more worried, but you were now way too fucking curious. the screen is static at first, then plain darkness with muffled voices. 

that goes on for nearly a minute before the camera is seemingly tossed on a mattress, facing a wall.

shauna’s wall, her bedroom, and her voice in the background. then, she emerges in the frame, laying back on her bed with her elbows propping her up. 

she wears a toothy grin and eyes something off-camera like she’s looking at meat. then you hear yourself.

“why would you fucking invite him?”

you sound pissed, and shauna seems to take enjoyment in it, still smiling like an asshole. typical. 

“jeff literally passes out before the family guy theme song ends, chill.”

you turn the volume up, the approaching night causing the temperature to drop and the breeze to pick up, the wind chimes growing louder outside your windows. 

“yeah, okay,” you laugh dryly, “i should’ve just gone out with natalie instead of this bullshit.”

“you still can, you know? i mean you’re fucking dressed for it.”

the smile had dropped from shauna’s face the moment you mentioned the other yellowjacket, her dark eyes seemingly scanning your figure still away from the camera, while the angered words spewed from her pink lips. 

it goes silent. almost like the camera had broken, and didn’t pick up any audio.

you shift uncomfortably, noticing the way her pixelated face softens and she frowns with a pout. the switch; what she pulled in every argument that got you to shut up when you locked eyes with her doe ones. you predict the next words that leave her lips.

“i’m sorry, okay? c’mere…”

she was always sorry. always for a different reason, and you never once questioned her if she ever truly was; you liked to believe so. you feel pity for yourself, watching you emerge into frame, in that fucking dress she had gifted you.

it was a mint green with tiny white flowers—one that seemed familiar as if you’d seen it in her closet. though, shauna had never worn it. 

you stood before her, and shauna dramatically pouted, her palm on the back of your thigh, pulling you into her lap and slipping beneath the material of the dress.

shauna wanted you to see this. to see her hands traveling on the sacred parts of your body and her mouth on your neck; eyes locking momentarily with the camera lenses. you hate her. she’s not here, and you haven’t seen her in so fucking long, but you swear you hate her. 

you hit stop on the vhs player, the television screen now blue and reflecting off of your flustered face. 

you didn’t need to watch it to remember it. that sleepover took place once your therapy started working and your family stopped coddling you so damn much. things had gone back to a somewhat normal and you thought one night with shauna would be fine. good, even.

you hadn’t known that making out with her until jeff showed up with a pizza, would lead to an argument that would cause you both to stop talking to each other. 

you’d bring up her worst habits; like cheating when you could just fucking be together, and she’d say the meanest shit to you to get a reaction, and remove the burning spotlight from herself. 

how could she ever date someone as pathetic as you? as boring? you didn’t answer her when she asked that.

she had ended it her hot headed rant with ‘you aren’t special.’

the words that were drilled into your head until the weeks passed and you left her, and that town, behind.

and out of everyone, shauna fucking shipman was the first to find you.

it hits you at once, she came here and you didn’t even notice. 

the goosebumps rise on your skin, the metal of the wind chimes clinging with a force. your head turns immediately, eyes peering into the darkness that's outside your windows. 

you’re not as pathetic as she thinks. 

you get up, walking with hurried steps to your dimly lit room, though you don’t need the warm lamp beside your bed to see beneath it. you know exactly where it is, the shotgun you purchased not even a week of living out here. surely not the safest spot but easy access.

you bend down and grab it, not yet adjusting the safety as you follow your footsteps back to where the tv is still blue, turning and heading towards the door. you turn the porch light on, and exit the home, keeping the weapon pointed while you study your surroundings. 

you think you should shout something; especially when a branch snaps to the left of your porch, but you remain mute. you even take a few steps forward, and down the stairs, holding a hardened face and scanning the forest with the gun. 

a minute passes, and then two, and nothing greets you. not a scared deer or a protective mother bear or a terrorizing shauna shipman. 

the nerves in your system don’t settle, and you nervously turn back around and rush into your small home; where the television screen is no longer blue, and playing the fucking homemade movie.

you don’t let the scene play out, briefly catching a glimpse of her mouth attacking your neck before you unplug the television completely, leaving the screen foggy and dark, with the shadow of two figures reflecting in it.

“that’s lame—you were just getting to the good part.”

you hear her before you see her. part of you doesn’t even want to turn around and face her, to acknowledge shauna is here and not in your nightmares and dreams. you don’t lower your gun, if anything you keep it lined with her chest when you do force yourself to look at her.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“i missed you?” shauna says so casually, as if the tension in the cabin was one-sided, or nonexistent completely. she doesn’t even care that you’re pointing a weapon at her—she knows you wouldn’t use it—and she moves away from the door, taking a seat on the couch. legs spread and eyes locked on you.

shauna doesn’t look much different from the last day you saw her; maybe with less makeup and longer hair. she ditched her light clothes for a dark long sleeve and pants similar in shade, and heavy boots rather than the flats jeff likes seeing her wear. she notices the steady trail of your eyes, leaning back in the cushion.

“you don’t think it’s like…stockholm-y to be out here?” 

“i like it.”

her mouth opens, then shuts, a hummed laugh.

“yeah,” she mumbles, “i bet you do.”

you bite your tongue, and there’s a beat of silence.

“must be nice,” shauna speaks quietly, daring to remove her eyes from you to inspect your home, fingertips trailing the arm of the couch, “to just…leave.”

“didn’t really feel welcomed back at home,” you mutter, and it’s not rocket science to figure out you’re talking about her, not the occasional judgmental eyes or unwanted sympathy you received at the mall. 

she ignores the passive aggressive comment, narrowing her gaze, “you left me behind…so fucking easy for you, too.”

shauna earns a short chuckle from yourself; because you couldn’t help but find it hilarious that she’s somehow the victim here. the narrative that she’s your precious lover that you left in the dust with a smile—when you cried to yourself the first damn night you were miles away.

“that what you came out here for?” you ask, lowering your gun until it points to the scratched-up wood floor, “to throw a pity party?”

“i deserve it after what you did to me,” shauna mutters, making your jaw slightly drop at the sheer audacity shipman had. you couldn’t say you were the best girlfriend, but holy fuck.

sure, you’d blame the shit that happened out there, solely on her, like you weren’t stood firmly by her side when she insisted on staying in the woods. and yeah, she’d beg to see you because you were the only one that understood her, and you’d ignore her calls and keep your door locked when she showed up unexpectedly.

but, shauna was worse. that’s what you tell yourself.

you shake your head, and point your finger, “i did you a favor by fuckin’ leaving—a-and you have him.” 

“i never wanted him and you out of everyone know that.”

shauna gets up now, and her height doesn’t play a factor in how she seems to tower you. that’s just her when she got like this; pissed. 

“i needed you,” her voice raises, stepping around the coffee table before her, but not yet closer to you. she’s being smart about this—catching her emotions bleed through her tone and gulping, blinking fast. 

she pays no mind to the pain ripping through her chest, resisting the urge to scream how fucking badly losing you had hurt, and how selfish you are for not caring. you expect the switch, and her demeanor does indeed shift, but it’s not the kind eyes and light voice. 

she slowly walks over, a hint of a grin on her face, watching you dare to raise the shotgun at her. you can only shuffle in place nervously when she’s right in front of you, pressing herself into the barrel. 

“think you can do it?” she teases, testing you despite knowing the outcome.

“i just want you to leave, shauna—and not fucking come back,” you tell her, voice wavering and your stare trailing to the center of her chest, where your gun rests. you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“think you want a little more than that.”

her hand finds the top of the gun, gripping it at once, observing the way your pretty lips frown while the weapon sways. she truly did miss this. 

how not only was it the fear that coursed through you, it was excitement. a quick widening of your eyes as they begin to mirror her darkened ones, letting her take full control of the gun now. 

it’s why you connected with shauna shipman in the first place. you’re not that different.

the shotgun is now pointed at you, her head tilting to your kitchen. she demands, “walk.”

you obey. with soft steps, your feet carry you to the room over, barely making it in the archway before you felt the cool metal pressing into your backside, into the thin material of your lavender nightgown.

she pushes you to the small brown dining table in the middle of the room, though the weapon was more so encouragement than force. you bend over the surface without her having to ask, your face tilted sideways on the wood grain.

shauna is already high on euphoria at how easily you let go of any personal fucking ‘morals’ you claim to have, giving yourself up for her the way people do to their beloved gods. as if you never even parted ways. if only. she thinks she’d have somehow gotten you pregnant by now, had she continued to have access to you. 

you’re just so beautiful, she thinks, putting the gun beside your head, gently stroking the side of your temple with her thumb. she only sees you in photos now, or envisions the common scowl on your face mid argument. but you like this, waiting for her, yearning for her; fucking angelic.

shauna roughly pushes your nightgown up, pulling down your underwear, nearly drooling at the sight. the plus side about you being out here, meant you were alone—no one to feel you in the ways she pictures before bed. 

“you know,” she begins, holding back a laugh at the way you huff to yourself, already so damn eager for her, “i told you i missed you…you didn’t say shit back.” 

you don’t respond, nearly twitching the moment her fingers find their way between your thighs, trailing up the skin, and to the most sensitive part.

you sigh, two fingers rubbing precisely in a circular motion with ease; your underwear had grown damp moments ago. another thing so easy for shauna. 

“and that’s weird—because…” she leans over you, her hips pressing against your own while her weight is on your back.

her fingers suddenly leave your clit, swiping against your pussy, and she holds her hand up, just inches from your face. she’s forcing you to watch it glisten. 

she tries to humiliate you, snickering, “seems like you do.”

shauna doesn’t expect you to grab her wrist, pull her closer, and wrap your lips around her fingertips, pushing your head down upon them. she gulps, a raspy ‘fuck,’ muttered near your ear—before she suddenly bites it, and reconnects her hand to your cunt.

you gasp when she wastes no more time, entering two fingers still coated with your spit inside of you, moving them as if she’s trying to remember what you felt like. you’re squeezing her, groaning her name, and shauna can confirm this is what heaven is. 

not fucking pure white clouds and a golden gate like jeff’s parents insist to her—it’s your warmth. in every way that had meant. 

she slowly pulls out, both of you exhaling, before she starts to pump them into you.

her wrist is angled in the most perfect way, that her index finger is prodding at that soft and special spot inside you; the lonely cabin filled with the lewd sounds of her fucking you and ragged breaths. 

your heavy eyelids are focused on the gun in front of your face, shauna’s hand still on it while her other one is roughly working below your waist. you have to stretch your arms over to the edge of the table, attempting to stop sliding with each thrust—not from her fingers, but rather her pelvis pushing into your ass. 

“say it,” she breathes, “tell me you missed me.”

again, you ignore her, only paying attention to the way she was fucking you with no mercy.

her hand frees from the weapon to the base of your neck; a delicate hold with a careful squeeze.

you groan, “i did—i did, shauna.”

she smiles with cocky satisfaction, before occupying her lips on the backside of your shoulder, sinking her teeth into you in sync with her fingers.

you’re clenching around her now; shauna moaning into your flesh at the sensation, slowing down her movements to really feel you. 

you’re so close, you weakly try to hump her hand, to increase the speed she’s suddenly lacking. shauna laughs at you this time because you’re too intoxicated on her to care. 

“missed you real fuckin’ bad.”

the words leave your mouth like a hushed sin, raw and honest, and probably something you’ll regret once you come down from this high. shauna is fucking thriving. 

“should’ve come sooner,” she says, picking up her pace, earning the most heavenly cry from you when she pushes her fingers deep and presses hard. “you just looked so peaceful out here…all alone.”

your blurry vision, somewhat steadies, back onto the gun, replaying what she had just told you again in your head. but it’s too late, your mind goes fuzzy and your legs go limp, whimpering her name when she brings you to that sweet edge. 

“c’mon,” she whispers from behind you, “fucking give it to me.”

you feel her fingers slide out of you, focusing once again on your clit, rubbing harsh and sloppy circles that make you see stars. shauna could never forget your body, or how to treat it, it’s her favorite place.

her hips continue to grind into you, teeth nipping at the back of your neck, tickling a sweet spot while you tremble head to toe.

“ssshauna.”

it comes out a very bleak warning, shauna humming but not letting up between your legs. you swear the table she has you bent over will have your nail marks in it, scratching down the surface, shutting your eyes while her hand tightly clutches your throat. 

she pulls you up—you can hardly even stand—her grip from nearly choking you is keeping you from collapsing. you’re leaning your weight on her body, still trapped between her and the table, the woman now silent as she brought you to another orgasm.

and it happens fast…for the both of you. shauna couldn’t help it, you felt too perfect squirming against her, and you use her name like your only prayer—she missed this way too damn much.

she has to taste you. she earned it, after all.

with a long trailed stroke on your pussy, she brings her fingers to her salivating mouth, sucking on them and not wasting a single drop of you. her eyes shut in bliss, wishing this could last forever. 

then, she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, an innocent kiss compared to what she had just done.

for a few minutes, the cabin is still, and shauna holds you while you both come down from your high. that is, until you slip from her arms, tugging your underwear back up and fixing your nightgown. her fixated stare doesn’t leave you, and you turn around to meet it.

“…you knew i was here.”

shauna blinks at you, walking away, opening one of the cabinets in the kitchen. she grabs a glass cup, conveniently knowing where they were located, and fills it at the sink.

“i mean, i’m here, aren’t i?”

you bite your tongue, your eyes not leaving hers while she gulps the water down. the faulty wiring in the old cabin makes itself known, the lights flickering once more, a heavy gust of the night breeze flowing through the windows. 

“shau—” “how about i run you a bath? with those bubbles you like, hm?”

you don’t get the chance to reply, subtly flinching when she hits the glass on the counter to set it down. with a soft smile, she walks toward you, halting her steps to kiss the apple of your cheek. you start to turn your head, and she grips your chin, tilting your jaw to her.

you’re upset, she knows this, you get stubborn.

deep down, you won’t admit why, but shauna doesn’t need a verbal confirmation from you. she hears you, crying out her name in the darkness of your bedroom, windows open like it was a fucking beckoning.

keeping old polaroids of you together on your nightstand to hold when you needed her. because no matter how many times you scream and shout that you hate shauna shipman—you love her so much more—so deeply and there’s simply no way you could ever stop.

you know what she’s capable of, the sick shit that happened in those woods that she fucking loved. you’ve seen her at her worst and her cruelest and you don’t care.

you’re upset shauna hadn’t made her presence known sooner.

you close your eyes when shauna kisses you, your fists balling around the fabric of her black shirt. it’s not rushed, not at all messy, shauna’s mouth is practically eating yours with a slow hungry passion.

it transports you to the past, and for a moment, there is no bad. not even the kind that you accepted and tolerated and took depraved amusement in. it’s just two people that love each other for who they are, no matter what.

the world unpauses when her tongue stops moving with yours.

shauna pulls away, and continues to the bathroom, walking down the hall and glancing back at you, waiting for you to follow. 

and you do, without hesistation.

[kisses4themissus]

Stubborn Lovers | M.R X Reader

a/n: i literally js finished writing this lol pairing: Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom!Reader WC: 4k

previous | masterlist | send me a love letter ♡

Staring down at the negative test you held your breath, your mind had been relieved while your stomach had dropped at the sight. You nodded yourself before burying them under paper towels in the trash can. 

Walking back to your desk, you had physically tensed up. You were confused on your reaction part of you was terrified but the part was glad there was a chance of being pregnant once more.

As you typed along your computer, a nurse rolled up beside you and held up a QR code to her venmo. “Gary found three pregnancy tests in the trash today, everyone’s making bets it’s that new girl, nicole; one of the night shift girl’s said that she was getting close with one of the neurologist’s morning attending!” She wiggled her brows, your hid your expression and grabbed your wallet and polluted out a twenty and handed it over.

“Twenty on that she’s dating him already.” You smirked, already knowing of your brother’s secret girlfriend. “I’ll add you to the pool.” She smiled and walked over, once alone your eyes widened. You were sure to hide your test right?

- - - - - - - 

Robby sighed as he finished up the teen’s ankle cast. “Should be healed up in 6-8 weeks, just keep it elevated when sitting or resting.” Robby smiled in sympathy as the teen groaned and went back to her phone. 

Her mom thanked him before leaving to pull her car up, perlah helped the teen use the crutches up and down the hall for practice for when on her own. Leaving robby alone with lacey in the room.

Lacey sighed and shook her head, grabbing her tiny backpack from under the plastic chair to pull out an unopened juice box. Robby saw lacey struggle from the corner of his eye, quickly walking over and popping the straw in. Lacey blinked up at robby and nodded, “thank you dr. robby.” She quickly sipped on the juice and looked around the room while robby typed up the discharge papers.

“Why haven’t you come back to mine and mommy’s place?” Lacey asked, not knowing her question made robby’s heart hurt. 

“You and your mommy have been busy, i didn’t want to make you both even busier..” Robby responded, taking in a deep breath.

Lacey sat down in the plastic chair and looked at the back of robby’s navy jacket. “Nick doesn’t like that you and mommy are close..” She watched as robby tensed up.

“Is that so? How is your dad?” Robby attempted to change the subject. Lacey sighed and shrugged. “He’s ok, he’s a firefighter now…he got me a cat plushie, i don’t think he knows i’m allergic.” Lacey said sighing to herself. “Him and mommy were fighting the other night at the house, he keeps telling me he has a room set up for me at his house..” 

Robby sighed as he completed the paperwork, taking off his glasses he turned to face lacey. 

“Do you want to be with him?” He asked, lacey shrugged and let her eyes drift off to her shoes.

“Mommy said it’d be nice to spend time with nick but he doesn’t always stay for too long..” She sighed, looking up as the teen walked through the doors, perlah behind her.

“Well, anna you are cleared to go, just come back in two weeks for a cast change, alright?” Robby smiled, the teen nodded and sighed.

“Bye dr. robby!” Lacey waved as robby left the room.

- - - - - - - 

You sighed as you walked to the staff elevators, not looking up as you entered. Bumping into someone on their way out.

Both of you let of a surprised noise before looking up, Mel stood in front of you, clutching the Ipad in her hands. “Dr. king?” You asked as she stared at you.

“Um– i’m sorry but the lab sent notice that the pregnancy tests they had been using we’re expired; it’d explain why your test was positive.” She explained, you nodded. 

“Oh, thank you dr. king.” You smiled politely, now stepping into the elevators with her. Your bag on your shoulder, your heart tightened as robby and collins got on from a different floor.

Feeling robby’s gaze, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through the messages from your family, a few from nick. “Are you feeling better?” Collins asked, making you look up from your phone. “Uh- sort of, took an anti nausea this afternoon.” You nodded, hoping no one would press on.

Mel glanced between the three doctors and stayed silent.

- - - - - - - 

Among your phone with your mom you had agreed to being the sugar plum fairy for the show. The next evening, after you had gotten off of work, you carried your bag into the ballet studio, thankful the next day was your day off. 

“Oh there she is!” Your mom cheered, walking over to you; already fussing over your hair and makeup. Sitting down in her office marissa and your mom got to work as the photographer took shots of other dancers. 

“You should see lovebug, she found extra bows and had marissa sew them to her costume!” Your mom chuckled, making you melt at the mention of your daughter, it had been hours since you last saw her.

“Where is she?” You asked as marissa helped you slip on the sugar plum dress. 

“She’s practicing poses with the other kids.”

Nodding at your mom’s words, finally seeing yourself as you opened your phone’s camera. The sight took you back to your last nutcracker, before lovebug was born, before you decided to pursue medicine.

“So beautiful!” Marissa smiled as you got up from the office chair, your socks touching the wood flooring, as your mother spotted them she gasped and walked towards her desk and handed you a pair of pointe shoes you kept around the studio.

“Do I really need these?” You asked, making your mom nod. 

“We need a photo of our sugar plum on pointe.” She smiled, you could tell she was hiding something. With a agitated sigh you got to work covering your toes before slipping into the shoes.

- - - - - - - 

Robby knew something was up with jake as the two walked out of a flower shop, two bouquets in hand.

“Where do you need to go next?” Robby asked, making the boy tense up before relaxing. “Uh, there’s this studio not too far, my uh– friend is there!” Jake stuttered, thinking of an excuse. Robby silent chuckled before following jake to the parked car.

As robby pulled into the parking lot his heart began to beat faster, spotting your car in the front parking spaces. Turning to jake who had his phone out texting someone. “Your friend a dancer?” Robby questioned.

Jake nodded, putting his phone away before opening his door. “Yeah, she was suppose to be in the show but got injured..” Jake explained, missing the look on robby’s face as he got out and followed jake into the building.

Upon opening the door both of them were greeted to the sounds of controlled chaos. Little dancers all spread out through the building, jake walked to the front desk and looked around for someone. 

“Excuse me?” Jake called out, a tiny fur covered child stopped and turned to face him, robby broke into a smile as lacey turned, her hands on her hips.

“Can i help you?” Lacey asked, turning around to approach the front desk, climbing onto the chair. Jake smiled and nodded, “I wanted to give these to my friend, her name’s anna.” Jake explained, watching as lacey looked over the desk as if it was her job. 

“How do you know her?” She asked, her little features dropping to a serious expression. Robby laughed catching the five year olds attention. “Hi dr. robby!” She waved, before turning to jake. “We go to school together.” Jake explained, lacey looked over the teen boy before turning to robby, her little gloved hand pointing at jake.

“You know him?” She asked, robby nodded and small smile growing. With a nod lacey hopped down from the desk and walked over to the small gate and bit off her glove to push it open. 

Propping it open with her body she smiled at jake, very charmingly; “I’ll let you through since you know dr. robby..” She sighed and pointed jake to where the teen girl sat. As jake went to pass, robby stood in the lobby and looked around. Several photos of dancers, some personal.

He smiled as he saw a photo of you and your brothers, you dress as clara while the boys were toy soldiers, another photo being you three as arabian dancers. Lacey slipped on her glove and walked over to robby.

“That one is my favorite, my mommy looks pretty!” She pointed to a bigger photo of you mid pose in a pastel pink dress, robby smiled as he notice another, it was of you, a bit younger holding a bundled up baby in your arms. 

“Is that you?” Robby asked, lacey nodded and smiled.

Before either could continue talking the front doors opened, both lacey and robby turned, both feeling the same dread. “Hi nick..” Lacey greeted. The firefighter smiled, a bag slung over his shoulder. “Hi buggy, you look like a cute little mouse..” He complimented.

“She’s a rat..”

“I’m a rat.” 

Both robby and lacey said at the same time, causing them to look at each other with smiles. Nick’s smiled dropped as he turned and eyed robby. “It’s Robinavitch, right?” Nick asked, tilting his head, a cocky smile growing on his face. “It’s doctor robinavitch!” Lacey corrected, rolling her eyes at nick.

“Yes and you’re nicholas?” Robby asked, watching nick’s movement as he approached him. “What are you doing here? Thought you’d be with your girlfriend?” Nick asked, his words making lacey pop up, her little eyes lighting up.

“You’re dating mommy?” She asked, a smile growing; making robby’s heart hurt as nick tsked and shook his head, kneeling down to be lacey’s height. “No honey, he has girlfriend already..” Nick explained, both men watched as lacey’s brow furrowed. 

“But–! He kissed…mommy?” She softly asked, her mind slowly piercing a story together. Lacey stared at robby for a moment before turning around towards nick. “He hurt your mommy’s feelings, that’s why dr. robby hasn’t been around you or your mommy, he’s been with his own girlfriend..” Nick watched as his daughter’s emotion was clear.

“Hey, don’t bring her into this–!” Robby attempted to cut in but was stopped at lacey’s look of disgust.

“You were mean to mommy?!” Lacey scoffed at robby, turning around to walk back through the gate towards the dance studios, her head shaking at the news.

“She needed to know what kind of man you are, robinavitch.” Nick smirked, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. “Oh by the way, thanks for sending flowers to her apartment, I forgot to pick something up the other night for dinner, she loved them.” Nick added, his shoulders held back proud. With a smooth pace he walked through the studio gate.

Robby stood in the lobby, shaking his head in disbelief at nick.

Moments later jake walked out, a smile on his face. “You ready, robby?” Jake asked, noticing the look on robby’s face. Wordlessly robby nodded, looking back in hopes to catch a glimpse of you or lacey. 

You sighed as you went on pointe, holding onto the bar to balance, unaware of the visitor in the doorway.

“Woah!” A tiny voice made you chuckle and slowly ease down before turning to see lacey standing in her costume, half of it zipped down to her waist, the hood dragging on the floor as she walked over to you.

“So pretty mommy!” She smiled up at you, her gloved hands lightly touching your skirt. “Look at my little rat!” You squealed, your fingers tickling her neck. She laughed and scrunched up, there was a moment where she stared at you before latching herself to your legs, the tutu hitting her head.

You smiled and rubbed her back, she clutched on and sighed against your legs. “What’s the matter babybug?” You asked, maneuvering her so you could pick her up, not caring if you creased the tutu.

“I love you mommy..” She mumbled against your shoulder, touching your hair softly. You chuckled and kissed the side of her head. “I love you, now what happened?” You asked once more, making her shake her head. 

“You hug me when i get sad, and I thought you’d be sad cause of robby..” She explained, making you furrow your brows. “How do you know about–?!” You went to asked but stopped as you saw nick, watching you both a smirk on his face.

- - - - - - - 

Weeks had passed since lacey turned away from robby, he had attempted to talk to you, but failed. You had blocked his number and would reject any paging from him. 

Robby groaned tiredly as he entered a small exam room, thankful night shift had already began to take over. As he entered the room, robby smiled it was jake’s new “friend” and her mom.

Quickly robby had gotten to changing the cast, checking on the broken bone. Langdon had stepped into the room and waited for robby to finish the bandaging. As he finished up the girls mom popped up and handed both men pamphlets. “The studio was grateful for you guys and is offering free seating for any healthcare working, you just need a photo of your badge to prove it; there’s more info about the shows and everything inside the pamphlets!” She explained, both langdon and robby nodded appreciating the gesture.

As the two walked back to central, langdon let out a chuckle as he opened the ballet pamphlet. “She’s gonna be pissed..” Frank muttered before handing the pamphlet to dana who gasped, immediately opening it to read over the show dates and times.

“Oh, very gorgeous!” Dana complimented, the others looking at the page

Robby ignored the pair as he packed his things up. 

“She’s a dancer too?” Mel questioned, pushing her glasses up to get a better look. Robby sighed and flipped open the pamphlet, quickly letting out a scoff.

The opening page being you as the sugar plum fairy with nick posed with you in a matching outfit. Flipping over the thing, robby gave a tiny smile as it was a photo of the rats, lacey in the center, her teeth on display as she faked a growl.

Walking back with another doctor from the cafeteria, you stopped as day shift stared at you with smiles. “What are you guys looking at me like that?” You asked, walking past them, shaking your head, chuckling.

“See you guys at the park tomorrow!” You waved, not looking back at the workers.

- - - - - - - 

The interns groaned as they stood out in the park’s empty field, late fall- early winter training was a pain; gloria had each floor do endurance tests to make sure everyone was fit to keep up with the fast pace environment.

Whitaker wiped sweat from his brows as he stopped for a water break, victoria and santos joining him quickly after.

“This sucks!” Santos panted, gulping down her water. Victoria wordlessly nodded and fanned herself. Samira chuckled as she jogged over to the trio. “I don’t think dr. abbot forgot his training.” She pointed out as jack had Shen attempt jumping jacks.

“Do you think dr robby’s gonna be this bad?” Victoria asked, glancing at the other who shrugged and took note as robby’s truck pulled up and outstepped jake and robby.

“I hope not.” Whitaker sighed, shaking his head before walking back towards shen and abbot.

“Morning.” Robby greeted, smiling a bit at the interns misery. 

Grumbles and brief good mornings were said as they all passed by and sat down on the grass, waiting for the next test. “I see abbot worked you all to the bone.” Robby noted, lightly kicking whitaker who laid on the grass, staring up like he was wishing for a deity to save him.

Nods were exchanged, jake snorted and walked over to where coolers of drinks sat lined up. Setting up two fold out chairs and motioned for jack to take a seat, which he did with a content look.

“Alright, back on your feet while we wait for the others.” Robby’s words cause groans before they all got up.

“I think vomit if we have to do another lap around the park!” Victoria sighed, before following the others.

“I think i’m having a heat stroke!” Whitaker said as he bent over and held onto his knees, catching his breath.

“Pussy!” Santos commented, standing beside him, a bottle of water in her hand.

Jake chuckled at the interns and got up from his chair to see another department running laps around the park just a few feet away.

“What department are they?” Jake asked shen who sat in the folding chair, his sunglasses slipping down his nose as he turned to see where jake was looking. 

“That’s the ICU department, well one of them.” Shen nodded as he watched you stand infront of your doctors and nurses watching as they all jogged laps.

“She runs her shit tighter then the navy.” Shen added, sitting up in his chair as you glanced over towards them, with a quick glance back at your own department you motioned for your other attending before walking over to their side of the park.

“Dr. shen, hi jake!” You greeted the two.

They greeted you back, the three of you watching as the interns caught their breaths on the benches. “How’s it going over here?” You asked, making shen snort. “Could be better, whittaker has almost vomited twice and samaria tried to limp her way out of running laps.” Shen debriefed making you nod with a smile.

You noticed jack and robby off to the side as they watched the nurses beat the doctors with tug of war. With a sigh you rolled your shoulders back before walking over to the men. “Damn, that sucks and into the snow too..” You shook your head, both robby and jack turned to you.

“Tell me about it, how it going over there?” Jack asked, motioning towards the group of ICU workers who were now doing laps jogging lightly. “Lost half of them since our doordasher got lost so they went o find the guy but i assume their all at a bar now..” You sighed, chuckling a bit.

Jack was pulled away by shen who needed help with getting the interns from their resting spots. Leaving you and robby alone. Robby had expected for you to leave with jack was was mildly stunned as you stayed put.

Turning to robby, you closed your eyes and sighed, making sure none of the ED was paying attention to you both. “Talk.” You muttered, making robby look at you, shocked a bit.

“What?” He asked, shocked.

“You’ve been wanting to talk to me about everything so now’s the chance, talk to me.” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. Robby froze for a moment before turning to you. “Everything that happened, i wasn’t expecting it; the date, lacey being ok with me around, you opening up to me..” Robby began, earning a nod from you, your eyes still watching everyone else.

“Anything good that happens to me, it doesn’t last long enough for me to enjoy it, like jake i’ve known the kid since he was twelve, six years before it went to shit because of pittfest.. My relationship with collins, it only lasted barely a year before she called it quits, I got panicked that day at the park, you seemed so open to me,” He stopped, now turning his head to face you.

“I didn’t want to lose you or cause lacey any pain from my fucked up life;” He stopped, remembering the look of anger and disgust on lacey’s face after finding out why robby hadn’t been around. “Why didn’t you clear up that rumor of you and collins that day?” You asked, stoic.

Robby stared at you for a moment before answering. “I was too stunned to hear that rumor come around, i did stop it after you left the floor..” Robby explained, your stomach still had a knot as you finally turned to him. “That same day, in the parking lot I saw you and dr. collins; you cupped her cheek and rubbed her belly…how is someone suppose to take that then get told you and her were dating?” You asked, your eyes searching his for an answer.

His eyes hesitated, he sighed and looked down. “A few months ago, collins told me something she kept to herself for years since me and her dated…she felt guilty for it..” Robby began to explain, your eyes moving to see collins who laughed with jack as langdon attempted jumping jacks.

The knot in your stomach fell as you looked at collins, noticing a slight glow about her, then back to robby, looking at you once more, silently robby knew you had already connected the dots. “She was unsure of us back then, good thing too; I would’ve been a shit dad..” Robby chuckled, his hands going to his jacket pockets. 

“She struggled with fertility since then, that day she told me how she had passed her first trimester smoothly and was expecting a child with someone she met..you can’t help but be happy for someone after what they’ve been through..” Robby explained, catching your teary gaze. “I don’t want me and you to be another fucked up thing..” He sighed.

As you both stood there, you nodded and snaked your hand towards his jacket pocket and held his hand. He smiled softly at you.

“Now it sounds like i’ve been a jealous bitch..” You joked, earning a huff of laughter from robby.

- - - - - - - 

“Twenty on robby asks her out!” Shen said, as most of the ED had began to watched you and robby talk to one another; a shift in both of your demeanors. 

“I’m saying fifty their dating.” Jack added, pulling out his wallet while shen began texting the ED’s betting group chat. 

“Dana said thirty on him asking her out in two weeks.” Victoria informed as she scolded through the mass texts coming from other workers. 

As the workers began listing their bets, they were stopped as a pink ride on kids jeep rolled up next to them on the concrete, the little girl wore a fluffy coat and sunglasses, a bag behind her in the mock backseat. She lifted her glasses and asked if anyone had seen you, shocking them as she called you by your last name.

Whittaker pointed to where you and robby stood, talking. 

Lacey nodded as she began to drive her jeep over to you both, bumping up the speed a bit. Silent looks were exchanged among the workers about the tiny diva. 

As you and robby talked, you stopped and turned as you heard familiar whirling noise. By the time you registered the sound and stepped back it was too late, lacey bounced back in her seat as she hit the back of robby’s legs. With a gasp you helped hold robby up as he held back curses.

“Lacey!” You scolded, the little girl shrugged at robby and walked over to you. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, noticing her leg warmers and tutu under her jacket. “Aunty marissa had to drop me off since jason got into a fight a school!” She explained.

Robby chuckled as he rubbed the back of legs, You shook your head and turned to see your sister in laws car but stopped as the ED workers stared at you three.

Clearing your throat you motioned for lacey, picking her up with ease. “Everyone, this is my lovebug, say hi lacey.” You introduced the little girl. She waved to the workers and jake.

“Hi guys!” Lacey smiled at everyone.

lovebug taglist: @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @whimsicalfungiforager @lovebuggyies @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @evans-dejong @equallyshaw @Qardasnagan @fallout-girl219 @dantemorenatalie @18lkpeters @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @blackblueberries @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @isla-finkle-blog @baileythepenguin @khaleesibeach @obfuscateyummy @li22ie2017 @hagarsays @catmomstyles3 @antisocialfiore @journalism2004 @capswife @obsessed-fan-alert @sabrinaselina55

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Start A New

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x F!Reader

Summary: In a tragic car accident, Jack loses his wife, who was your best friend, and you lose your husband, the father of your child. Now both of you navigate life together and co-parenting your daughter, Evelyn, while also trying to figure out your feelings for each other.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who loved the first part! Now here's that happy ending you all wanted...

Undeserving (aka Part 1) | The Pitt Masterlist

Jack tried to get some rest. He really tried, but he kept going over his argument with you. Did you really not see how much he loves you and Evie? Do you really not know how heartbroken he'd be if you left?

He sighs and checks the time on his bedside. It's almost noon and Evie usually takes a nap around this time. It might be a good time for him to talk to you again so Evie doesn't see if things get heated.

He kicks off his blankets and drags himself out of bed. He exits his room and heads to the kitchen. You're there again, looking at your laptop. He hopes you're not looking at apartments again, but it's likely.

"Can we talk?"

"You should be sleeping."

"I can't. My mind is going all over the place," he takes up the empty chair beside you. He glances at your screen and, sure enough, you were looking at apartments.

He rests his arms on the dining table, "Please, don't leave," he says in a broken, pleading tone.

You fully face him, "Jack, I love you. I really do, but...I feel bad. You were my Anna's husband. She was my best friend. The one she was supposed to grow old with. I feel guilty that she's not here, that you and her never got to have kids and grow old together. I feel bad for practically replacing her."

"You're not-"

You hold your hand out, "Let me get everything out...please."

He nods, "Okay."

You take a deep breath, "I feel guilty for being here when she couldn't be. I also feel guilty for loving you when it should be Andrew here helping me raise Evie. I feel guilty for taking up your space, your time. I-I feel like I don't deserve you. You're such a good, loving, caring man and I shouldn't be taking over your life the way that I've been these past few years.

"That's why I want to move out. But also, my therapist think it'd be good for us to live separately. We've become too dependent on each other because we lost our partners in the same accident. We need space in order for us to have a healthy relationship. And I really hope you understand that."

He gulps and nods, "I get it...but fuck, sweetheart. You and Evie are the first and last thing I think about when I wake up and go to sleep. I'm gonna be honest, it's gonna fucking suck not having you two around all the time."

You reach out and place your hand on top of his, "Again, this isn't happening any time soon. I still have to find a place."

"Have you looked at places nearby?"

You nod, "Yeah. I don't wanna be too far from you."

That brings a small smile to Jack's face, "That's something at least," he murmurs. He leans in and presses his lips to your head, "I love you so much, sweetheart." He turns his hand up and laces his fingers with you.

"I love you too," you whisper. You lean back to look at him, "We'll get through it." you cup his face with your free hand, your thumb grazing over his five o'clock shadow, "We've gotten through worse."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "Yeah...we have."

_____________________________

In the upcoming months, you continued to apartment hunt. Jack would accompany you to provide input. You looked at various apartment complexes within two to five miles away from Jack's home.

You eventually found a place just three blocks away from him and much closer to the park the three of you frequented.

Leaving Jack was hard, but you knew it would be good for you two. Evie took it hard, obviously. She didn't want to leave her Uncle Jack Jack and her cries brought tears to your own eyes.

Jack held Evelyn close as he explained everything, "You'll still see me, honey. I'm not going anywhere. We'll still go to the park together and have family time. I'm not leaving you, baby. I promise," he holds her tighter and you see tears welling up in his eyes as Evelyn sobs, "I promise, Evie. I'll always be here for you and mommy."

When move in day came, Jack helped you as much as he could. When he was at work, some of the day shift nurses and doctors came to help you.

Robby grunted as he set a box down, "So...I heard you two confessed your love."

You rolled your eyes, "Yes. We did."

"You know, usually when people love each other like you do, they move in together. Not move out."

"We need the space and more independence. We did everything backwards, Robby." You explained as you begin to unbox the box he brought in.

"I know. But don't tell Abbot I told you this, but he's been really anxious about this. He doesn't know what he's going to do without you girls."

"We'll figure it out eventually. We've spent a majority of these past few years always at each other's sides and we weren't even officially together. It's going to be a big change, but we can get through it. After everything we've gone through, especially Jack, I think we'll make it out okay."

The doctor nodded, "I hope so 'cause now his bitchin' is even more sad and depressing."

You giggled and shoved his shoulder, "Get back to work, doc."

He salutes you, "Yes, ma'am!"

_________________________

Three months living in the apartment with just you and Evelyn was a rough start. Evie was constantly asking for her Uncle Jack Jack and you had to explain that you couldn't go to his house every single day.

Eventually, she got used to it being just you and her. Some nights did feel lonelier than ever. You had to fight yourself on not inviting Jack all the time. But so far, he'd been coming over once a week and you've been going to his the same as well.

It was an adjustment for sure, but you three of you eventually used to it.

Any downtime he had during his shifts, Jack would call you, wanting to hear your voice or see Evie via video chat. You thought things would be tense for a long time between you and he. But, thankfully, it was only tense for the first month and you two fell back into how things were before. You'd joke around, share about your days, but now it's coupled with some flirtatious banter.

It was weird in the beginning, hearing him flirt with you and you flirt back. But now it's second nature with you two. Your flirtatious banter would be silly or cute or downright sinful, but only when Evie wasn't around.

Jack: what're you wearing?

You snort when you read his text. You text him back:

You: aren't you supposed to be working?

Jack: was thinking about you and I'm on my lunch....so what're you wearing?

You take a selfie of you wearing one of his old Army shirts and reply to him with that.

Your phone suddenly starts ringing and you laugh, answering it, "There's no way I'm having phone sex with you while you're at work."

"Well can I come over after my shift and we can have real sex?"

You clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh. You look beside you to see Evie still passed out after you two started watching a movie.

"Won't you be exhausted?"

"I'm wound up today and sex is a great relaxer." You can hear the smirk in his tone.

"Yeah? Says who?"

"Me, I'm a doctor, remember?"

"Last time I checked, you're a doctor in medicine. Not sexology."

He hums, "Fine. You caught me...I just miss you."

You soften your voice, "I miss you too. I miss you a lot but...this time apart has been good for me."

"I know, but don't get too comfortable. Once your lease is up, you're moving back here. Got that?"

You chuckle, "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. I want us to be whole again. It's so fucking quiet in the house now. Fuck, the other day, I had Bluey playing in the background just so it feels like you two are around still."

That tugs on your heartstrings, "Jack-"

"Shit. I gotta go. They need extra help and we're already down a doctor. I gotta go sweetheart and I'll talk to you later, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, Jack. Bye." He ends the call and you lay back in bed. You bury your face into his shirt, wishing it smelled like him again.

_____________________________

It felt like deja vu. You're at the park, sitting on the picnic blanket with Dana like you had all those months ago. Jack and Evie are playing on the playground like they always are.

Dana, feeling the same sense as you goes, "Funny to be here with you guys again but now you and Jack are together. Separate, but also together."

You nod, "I know. Weird, right?"

"That was a rough patch you guys went through, but look at you now. You two have gone through a lot and keep overcoming it. Shows how strong the two of you are," Dana lifts her bottle of water as if giving you a cheers and sips from it.

You smile at the older woman, "Thanks. None of what the both of us have gone through was easy, but we did it together. Loving him is easy. I still feel sad and guilty sometimes. For Anna. For Andrew."

"They would've wanted you two to be happy," Dana says with confidence.

"I know, still doesn't mean I don't feel bad about it sometimes." You sigh, "Therapy has helped a lot though."

"That's good, honey. Really good."

"Sweetheart!" you look up and see Jack looking your way, "You want ice cream?"

"Rainbow pop please!" You glance at Dana, "You wany anything?"

"I'm good."

"Just one for me, baby!"

"Got it!" he gives you a thumbs up and guides Evie to the ice cream truck.

Dana wistfully sighs, "You guys are so fucking cute. I really am happy you two are together."

"Thanks, Dana. I am too."

______________________________

Three Years Later

Evie was at a sleepover at her friend's apartment in the same complex. So that meant you and Jack had the place to yourselves since Jack was off that day.

After a few rounds of sex, you two were just cuddling in your bed. Your head is resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around you and tracing lines along your back.

You two were laying in a blissful silence when Jack slid out of bed, "Where you going?"

"I wanna grab something from my pants," he grabs his jeans from the floor and found what he was looking for in his pocket.

He sits back in bed and presents you with a tiny box. You immediately sit up and look at him with wide eyes, "Jack..."

"Sweetheart, you already know how much I love you. There aren't really words that I can say that you haven't heard before. I love you and Evie so much. We've gone through hell and back. Our lives have been intertwined since that night. I didn't expect to fall in love with you, but I did. I didn't expect to love Evie as much as I do.

"I love the life we've built together, even though the start of it was unconventional and, frankly, extremely traumatizing-"

You snort, "What a way to propose, baby."

"Well I didn't necessarily say the words yet, did I?"

He opens the box to reveal a gorgeous ring. The cut was perfect and it was a ring you definitely see yourself wearing forever, "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Of fucking course I will," you press your lips to his and you feel him smiling into the kiss, "I love you," you mumble against his lips.

He breaks the kiss, grinning, "I love you too," he takes the ring out of the box and slips it onto your finger.

You look at how it sits on your finger. You didn't think you'd be wearing another wedding ring again, yet here you are.

You giggle and Jack looks at you, "What's so funny?"

"I can't believe you proposed with your dick out and made a comment about our shared trauma."

He shrugs, "Well isn't our entire relationship built on unconventional and traumatic events?"

You roll your eyes and climb onto Jack's lap, "Shut up and make love to your fiancee."

He smiles wide, "No need to tell me twice."

_____________________

"DID HE DO IT?! DID HE ASK YOU TO MARRY HIM?!" Evie asks as into the apartment after her sleepover. Jack follows her inside, chuckling.

You hold up your left hand, "He did, baby!"

"YAY!" Evie wraps her arms around you and then gasps. She turns to Jack, "Can I call you dad now?!"

Jack looks at you. You two have talked about it before. You're okay with Evie calling Jack her dad. He practically is.

He softly smiles at the six year old, "Yeah, honey. You can call me dad." Evie launches herself at Jack and he catches her. He hugs her tight.

It's funny. You and Jack thought you were undeserving of each other, but turns out, you were just what the other needed this whole time.

[strawb3rry-hon3y]

Not Today

Pairing: Yeon Si-eun x Fem!Reader Requested: Yes / N/A

Summary: After a fight sparked by Yeon Si-eun's emotional distance, the reader storms off and ends up lost in a dangerous neighborhood only to be cornered by threatening strangers.

Length: 800 Words Genre: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Fluff.

Warnings: Light injury, verbal argument, sketchy situation, mention of harassment, emotional vulnerability. Status: Complete!

It had been a long week. Exams were closing in, and I could feel the tension boiling beneath my skin like it was waiting to spill. Normally, I could keep it together. Normally, I could adjust to his moods, his quiet days, the way he shut everyone out. Si-eun wasn't like other boys. He didn’t sugarcoat things, didn’t waste words on meaningless apologies or gestures. And I liked that about him. I did. But sometimes, just sometimes, it made me feel like I was alone in this.

It started small. A skipped lunch together, A message left on read. A short reply when I tried to ask how his study group went: “Fine.” That would’ve been okay if it wasn’t already the third time this week. By Friday, I’d had enough. I was tired of feeling like I was orbiting his world without ever landing.

We were sitting under the usual tree behind the library, books open but neither of us really reading. The tension was thick, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” I said, not looking at him. “I’m not asking for much. Just… a little more effort.”

He didn’t respond. Just turned a page like I hadn’t spoken. “Si-eun.” He looked up, finally. “What?”

That tone: flat, distant, like I was annoying him. It stung more than I wanted to admit.

“Do you even care about this? About me?” I asked, folding my arms. He frowned, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Of course I care. Why are you asking that?”

“Because you don’t act like it!” I snapped. “You barely talk to me unless I start the conversation. You don’t check in, you don’t ask how I’m doing, you don’t even notice when I’m upset—”

“I notice,” he cut in, voice low. “I just don’t always know what to say.”

“Well, maybe you could try saying something. Anything. It’s like talking to a wall sometimes.” He blinked at me. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. Then he just closed his book and stood up.

“Maybe you should find someone who talks more.” I stared at him, blinking in surprise. “Are you serious right now?”

He didn’t answer. He just turned and walked away. I sat there, stunned, heart hammering in my chest. I hadn’t expected him to just leave. A part of me wanted to go after him: scream at him, tell him he was being ridiculous, but my pride wouldn’t let me.

So I walked. Not home, not to a friend’s place. I just walked. Through the neighborhood, ignoring the ache in my feet and the lump in my throat. It was dark by the time I realized I’d wandered somewhere unfamiliar. The houses were more run-down here, the streetlights flickering or dead. I turned around to retrace my steps and froze.

Three guys were leaning against a wall nearby, their eyes on me like they’d been waiting.

“Hey there,” one of them called, stepping forward. “You look upset. Want some company?” I backed away, heart pounding. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look like you could use some cheering up,” another said, grinning. They moved in closer. One of them reached for my bag. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Let us help.”

“Don’t touch me!” I yanked the bag back, stumbling. They laughed, but it didn’t feel funny. It felt dangerous. Then a voice cut through the air like a blade. “She said don’t touch her.”

I turned just in time to see Si-eun step out, his face dark with anger. He didn’t hesitate. One swift movement, and he had the guy who grabbed me shoved back against the wall.

“Walk away,” he said coldly. The guys cursed under their breath, but they backed off, muttering as they disappeared into the alley.

I was shaking, adrenaline making my knees weak. Si-eun looked at me, his expression softening instantly. “Are you okay?” I sighed, looking away like from him “I— yeah. I think so. Don’t think i'm going to forgive you just for showing up like prince charming…”

“I shouldn’t have left like that,” he said quietly. “I was angry. At myself, not you. I just… I don’t always know how to deal with things.” I bit my lip, trying not to cry. “I thought you didn’t care.”

He stepped closer, gently grabbing my hand with a sad look. “I care. Too much, maybe. I just don’t always know how to show it.” And for once, I believed him.

Taglist: N/A Header Creator’s: @saradika-graphics

[orangepeelknives]

The more I read and watch about Will, the more I feel he really struggles with general anxiety. There's the sleep anxiety, obviously, having a panic attack off the ice in 2023, and the whole thing about how he likes to make plans. When you feel out of control, planning helps and it reduces the demons in your brain telling you that you aren't doing what you are supposed to be.

Soothing others because it's the only way you've learned to soothe yourself, by vicarious means. You become so important to that person but it can leave you feeling overshadowed or unheard or genuinely unsupported.

I don't think Will is as vulnerable to hockey criticisms as Mack is, but I really think that Will has some hidden weak spots that could easily be ripped open if people knew where to look.

yes anon i am in compleeeeete agreeance with you and your beautiful brain!!!

i also think that scenarios like this, worlds with warso who hates him being the coach, out of his comfort zone, not surrounded by a legion of adoring brunette best friends to constantly reaffirm his social AND hockey status, no line chemistry, no best buddy to emotionally support, will is ESPECIALLY vulnerable.

like during the season, all those criticisms he was able to let roll right off his back because he was confident, and secure, and he had mack there to focus on emotionally regulating, and who also did support him in a LAWT of ways that should NAWT be overlooked, those criticisms may feel a lawttttt more accurate right now, and cut a lawt deeper, because theres really no support structure, for a boy who is EXTREMELY used to a constant and strong support structure.

theres no ego boosts happening here, he hasnt scored a goal, hes being bumped down, ice time cut, and none of his usual safety nets are around, none of the things he would usually look to for reaffirmation are nearby or really available. prolly why he's allegedly calling mack 24/7. prolly also doesnt help that mack is (seemingly) having the time of his lyfe!!! NOT in any way saying will wants mack not to have fun, but usually he could focus on making MACK feel better, because they were going thru the exact same issues and mack is way more prone to crashing out, exactly like u are saying, it makes will feel better to make mack feel better. but mack doesnt need will to make him feel better!!!

so anyways. i do think will is in a vulnerable schpot rn, and probably is lowkey meeping out rn. hoping pookie can score a goal or smth bc i think its kind of important for him to have a win, i think it is necessary to replinish the confidence that everyone is always saying he has, bc i bet hes not feeling v confident rn.

[amoebadue]

MISCOMMUNICATION

Bob Reynolds (Sentry) x Reader (Female Reader)

Contains: Mature Themes; kidnapping, murder, guns, violence, Void, threats, choking, I can’t think of anything else off the top of my head

Reader described as having hair but everything else should be fairly neutral? Jealous Bob, Jealous Reader, Miscommunication (duh lol), Bob needs a hug, mutual pining, yearning (from both), John Walker being himself? Yelena’s just trying to help, Bucky needs a nap, Reader wears a dress (picture Anastasia’s Opera Gown)

Word Count: ~10k

A/N: This is my first fic ever so please be kind. Feel free to give (friendly) feedback!!! Let me know what you guys think of this!!

Yelena had planned a girls night to find dresses for Valentina’s gala later that week. She insisted it would be good “team-bonding” (at least for the female half of our team).

“I’ll be okay. It’s not like you’ll be gone long…right?” Bob looked at You with a nervous grin.

“We’ll only be gone for a couple hours. And if you need me, I can always fake a migraine and come home early.” You winked at him. He grinned back.

“Now get up,” tugging his arm, You pulled him out of bed, “we have ‘family breakfast’ since we’ll be gone for dinner.”

—

“Order up!” Alexei had not woken up as early as he had planned. Now he has Walker, Bucky, and Bob running an assembly line of breakfast food. He tried to pass it off as “making today a girl’s day rather than just a girl’s night”. The girls weren’t about to argue with him.

“Why can’t we just eat cereal?” John muttered as he angrily flipped pancakes.

“I like cereal!” Bob looked longingly at the cabinet that held the New Avengers themed wheaties, before Alexei stood, arms crossed, between Bob and his beloved breakfast food.

“You can have cereal tomorrow. When we can have another family dinner instead.” Everyone groaned.

“We don’t need to have ‘family dinner’ every night, you know.” Ava sniped.

BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP.

“AHHHH Bob!! The bacon!!!” Alexei started waving his arms frantically as Bob turned back to the stove. Where there used to be a pan with bacon, there was now a 3 foot tall grease fire.

“Pour water! Get water!” Alexei yelled at John as he ran to the sink.

“That is not how you put out a grease fire!” Alexei was already running back to the stove with the glass of water.

“Walker, stop him!” Bucky rubbed his face, already exasperated.

Bob had backed himself into the corner. Coincidentally (or not), he was right next to the cereal cabinet. He grabbed the box and several bowls as he made his way back to the table.

Or he tried to get back to the table, only to be stopped as John’s shield flew past him and into Alexei’s back.

Alexei fell to the ground with his cup.

“The water! NOOOOO!”

Bucky stepped over the fallen body and put a baking sheet over the burning pan.

“Guess we’re having cereal. Again.” He side eyed Bob who was happily pouring cereal into his bowl.

You turned to Bob as he slid your bowl over, “Did you do that on purpose?”

He just winked at you. You snorted and smacked his chest lightly.

The team ate their cereal in silence. Mostly. There was the occasional sigh from Alexei as he gazed sadly at the messy kitchen.

—

After breakfast you returned to your and Bob’s shared room to finish some reports. Bob followed.

As soon as the door shut, he spoke.

“I totally did that on purpose.” Your cheeks burned red as you laughed. Reaching for her laptop, you settled into Bob’s side as he sat on the bed. He wrapped his arm around you.

“I knew it!”

After your mutual laughing fit, he turned on the tv to that week’s sports news recap while you finished writing reports. By the time you finished, it was 4 o’clock. Soon enough, Yelena would be knocking on the door to get you to leave.

You stood up and stretched. He looked at you with a lazy grin.

“You could always stay here, you know. I’m sure they’d pick a dress you’d look good in. You look good in everything.” His cheeks flushed a light pink.

You held his face in your hands and put your foreheads together.

“You flatter me. You’re very persuasive, you know.” You murmured lowly. His breath hitched. You pulled away. “But not persuasive enough.” You laughed as you took a step back.

He grabbed your hand and you turned to face him.

“Can you at least tell me what color dress you’re getting?”

“It’s a surprise! Plus I won’t know until I find it,” You leaned down and placed a quick kiss on his jaw, “But don’t worry, I’ll get you a tie to match.” And then you were gone.

—

You hadn’t expected there to be this many dresses to choose from. Rows and rows of different colored gowns filled the department store.

“Over here.” Yelena dragged you to the back corner, away from the salespeople who were whispering excitedly as they side eyed the group of 3.

Before entering the store, the girls sat in a coffee shop across the street. Yelena insisted they go over the plan.

“Our objective: Find (each of us) a dress for Valentina’s gala.”

“I need to get a tie for Bob, also. So we can match.” Ava snorted. Yelena gave you a pointed look.

“We’ll get the tie after-” Yelena huffed and turned to Ava, who hadn’t stopped laughing.

“Sorry, sorry. They’re just so…cute. Matching tie. Honestly.” She snorted, “Bob, The Sentry…Void. Having a matching tie. The same guy that encompassed all of New York in darkness a year ago, wants to match his girlfriend. It’s cute. It’s funny.” The girls all looked at each other and burst into laughter. It was another several minutes before they called down enough to listen to Yelena go over their battle plan (shopping itinerary).

Mission Objective : Find a dress

Secondary Objective : Avoid all contact with other people

To make it a little more fun, the girls decided that the first one to be approached by someone out of their group has to pay for the other girl’s dresses.

Ava decided to go to the stay at the front and regroup after she found something that would fit over her suit.

At the back of the store, You and Yelena got to work shifting through the dresses on the racks.

“This dress would go perfect with your eyeliner.” You held up a blue dress for Yelena to see.

“It’s too…big.” You looked down. You had to agree with Yelena, it was rather poofy. “But the color is nice.” Yelena continued, “I was thinking maybe I’d try something green.”

“Okay, well there’s some green dresses over there,” You pointed to the rack against the wall, “These are all too blue.”

“Maybe you should get a blue dress. It would go with those shoes you got the other week.”

“Good idea! But I definitely need something less…” You looked at Yelena, “Big.” You both said at the same time and then promptly burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Ava phased through the wall behind the rack they were standing in front of.

“Nothing, just thinking about how you could hide the entire tower under here.” That set off another fit of giggles.

“Oh well, I found my dress. I could probably just take it and they wouldn’t notice.” The girls looked over to the salespeople who were trying to placate a woman yelling about their return policy.

She snorted, “I can’t imagine Valentina would be too happy about one of her New Avengers robbing a clothing store.”

“Suppose not. Oh well. Hopefully we don’t have to return anything.” More laughter.

“Oh wow.” You gasped. Stepping away from the other girls. There at the end of the rack was the most beautiful dress You’d ever seen. It was a strapless dark blue dress with a glittery sheer cape.

“That’s the one.” Yelena peeked over your shoulder.

Ava hummed in agreement, “You have to get it.”

“Now that we all have our dresses, we can check out. Since nobody was approached by anyone, maybe we should charge it to Valentina’s card. I mean…she is the one insisting we attend the gala.” They shared mischievous looks and burst into a fit of giggles.

“Maybe we should also buy dinner with her card since we had to spend our free time preparing for a work event.”

“Yes!”

—

Back at the tower the boys had finished their 14th round of competitive Mario Kart. Alexei kept losing and demanded a rematch every time. Eventually, he rage-quit but was able to unsuccessfully play it off as getting the pizzas they had ordered.

As soon as the elevator closes, John starts, “How can he drive people around in a limo and still be so bad at driving games.”

Bucky snorts, “You’re one to talk! How can you be so loud but still say nothing?” He laughs before a pillow smacks him in the face. That just makes him laugh harder.

“Whatever, man. The real question is how Bob managed to win every single race.”

“I had a lot of time to practice when you guys were all on missions and stuff.”

John gave him an incredulous look and scoffed, “And you chose to pass the time with Mario Kart?”

“Yeah,” he laughs as he says your name, “She always wants to play when she can’t sleep.” John laughs at the dazed look in his eyes as he talks about You.

Bucky cuts in and repeats your name, “How’s that going?”

Bob’s cheeks start turning pink, “Good…really good. She’s always around. She’s even getting me a tie that’ll match her dress.”

John let out a loud laugh, “Geez, you guys are always together! And matching ties? How clingy is she!?” He snorts. “Do you ever get a second alone?”

Bob flushes at this, “Well, I mean…sometimes she has training or paperwork, but she tries to do the paperwork where she can sit by me.” Bob pauses as he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater. He flinches when a door shuts down the hall, “But I really don’t mind. If anything, I’m the one that wants her around.”

John nods at this but Bucky frowns at the empty doorway. He could’ve sworn he’d seen You.

—

By the time You and the girls had returned from the store, You were exhausted. Yelena offered to hide your dress so Bob wouldn’t see it before the gala. You accepted. Now all you wanted to do was curl up in bed with Bob while he ran his fingers through your hair (his favorite pastime).

Unfortunately, your plans were thwarted after hearing the guys talking in the common room. After hearing Bob say you were always with him and then hearing him agree when John called you clingy, you were not all too ready to cuddle up with that man.

You thought Bob would want to match. It’s only his second gala. And your first as a couple! You’d been dating for 7 months now, and you thought having you around had helped him keep calm. At least that’s what he’d told you. Had he lied to you? He wouldn’t do that…right? You tucked the tie into the bottom drawer of your nightstand.

No, you decided, he wouldn’t…Would he?

A knock on the door took you out of your thoughts.

You cracked open the door to see Yelena standing there, “Oh. Hey.” You cleared your throat, “What’s up?”

“Ava and I are going to watch a rom-com. Do you want to watch?” Yelena squinted at you, “Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Just a bit tired. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Plus you didn’t want to risk running into Bob right now.

Shutting the door, you shook your head and told yourself that you’d feel better in the morning.

—

By the time Yelena got to the common area, Ava had already appeared with a bowl of popcorn in hand.

“You cannot kick us out just for ‘girls night’, Ava.”

“Yes they can!” Bob jumped up excitedly.

“Oh shut up Bob, you just want to make your girlfriend happy!”

“What’s wrong with-”

“Speaking of your girlfriend, she’s going to bed early.” Yelena interrupted. Bob nodded, moving quicker so he could get to you before you fell asleep.

He went to walk past Yelena, but she grabbed his arm. He gave her a questioning look.

“She said she was tired, but…she didn’t look well.”

Worry filled his eyes, “Is she sick?” They flashed silver, “Hurt?”

“No, no. I think she’s just…well, I’m not sure.” She paused, “Just let me know if she needs anything.”

He nodded and headed for his room, his pace quicker than normal.

John snorted as he left, “Maybe he is the clingy one.”

Everyone laughed at that.

—

Bob knocked hesitantly on the door. Furrowing his brows when he doesn’t hear your voice.

He cracks open the door and seeing that the lights are off, decides to whisper your name, “Are you still awake?”

You were never able to fall asleep easily without him. Or at least that’s what you’d told him. Maybe you really weren’t feeling well.

He approaches the bed and places the back of his hand against your forehead. No fever. He decides to get ready for bed.

After he brushes his teeth he grabs a cup and fills its with water. Placing it on your nightstand, he notices that you’re facing away from his side of the bed. Had he done something? Were you mad at him? No, you were fine when you left. Maybe you really were sick.

He walked around to his side of the bed and laced down. Facing you, he counted your heart rate. He frowned. Your heart was beating much faster than it normally did when you were asleep. You must be really sick. He needs to call a doctor. As he went to reach for you, you flinched slightly. You’re awake, he realized, and ignoring him.

His frown deepened. Maybe you really were mad at him.

He stays up, waiting for you to turn and face him. You don’t.

—

The next morning you wake to an empty bed. You frown. Bob is always in bed longer than you, even if he wakes up first. Maybe he really did want space.

You pushed the covers aside and got up. How could I have pushed him away? Why doesn’t he want me anymore? Maybe he thinks I don’t appreciate him? At this thought you start to make the bed. And rinse the water cup he’d given you.

Your heart hurts. Even when you annoy him, he’s still thoughtful. You think he’s too good for you.

After tidying the rest of the room, you gets ready for training. Maybe you can talk to him then.

—

Bob walked back to the room, the two coffee cups were shaking in his hands. He’d hoped they could talk over coffee. He hoped you’d want to talk.

Opening the door he backed in. He took a deep breath and turned to-

Nothing. The room was empty. The bed was made. He felt like al the air had been knocked from his chest. He always made the bed. He liked feeling useful. Needed. Especially by you.

The cup of water he’d given you was gone too. In fact, the whole room was clean.

Maybe you really didn’t need him. Maybe that’s why you were distant last night. Maybe you’d finally realized you were too good for him.

—

When he got to the training room, you were already standing at the bench. Setting your water bottle down as you spoke softly to John. Bob frowned as he looked at you. Did you always stand that close to John?

A hand on his shoulder shook him out of his thoughts. Yelena gave him a strange look as he turned to face her.

“Are you alright, Bob?”

“Fine.” She frowned. He stomped past her to the punching bags. He wanted to hit something. Or someone.

Your laughter rang out behind him. He glared at the bag in front of him, not wanting to turn and see you laughing at something he said.

“Bob, what’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.” She didn’t need to know how true that was. Nothing was going on with them. She wouldn’t even look at him. He shook his head, maybe she’s just having a bad day.

“Okay let’s pair up! We’ll switch through stations around the room.” Bucky’s voice rang out as he stepped into the training room.

Yelena grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the mat, “Let’s be partners.”

Bob hadn’t wanted to be partners with Yelena. He wanted to pair up with you. Maybe he should let you train without him. Maybe you just need some space.

—

Hearing Bucky’s order, you turned to face Bob, wanting to pair up with him. Hopefully you’d be able to talk then. But instead you watched as Yelena pulled him to the mat. He didn’t even look at you.

John said your name softly, “Wanna pair up?”

You looked past him, back at Bob. He was already looking at you. He smiled at you, you noted that his smile looked tense. You furrowed your brows. What’s wrong with him? Is he okay? Maybe he really had gotten tired of you. Maybe you should just give him some space.

You focused your gaze back on John. He grinned.

“So?” He prompted.

“Yeah, of course!” You smiled back, albeit not as wide as you normally would, he noted.

John nodded towards the mat and started heading in that direction.

Okay, you thought, let’s get this over with.

You looked back at Bob, who was laughing at something Yelena said.

Maybe he just needs some space. Then maybe he'd want you around again. Maybe then he’d choose you as his partner. Maybe he just needs some space.

—

If he had to watch Walker pin you to the ground one more time he was going to break something. Preferably Walker himself.

CRACK.

He looked down. The metal weight he’d been holding was now snapped in two.

“Easy, Bob. Valentina’s going to throw a fit if we break anymore of her ‘state of the art training machinery’,” Yelena grinned, “What has gotten you so worked up, anyways?”

She looked towards the mat where you and John were sparring.

She laughed before speaking, “Oh Bob, you have nothing to worry about. Her and Walker are just friends. Plus she loves you.” He wasn’t so sure about that anymore. But he couldn’t let Yelena know. Not until he was sure.

Shaking his head, he tried to push those thoughts away…to no avail.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“She does, Bob.” She looked back towards John, “Plus he is a good friend. He’d never do something like that to you.”

“I guess.” She frowned at his seemingly limited vocabulary, maybe she should just try to distract him. Maybe he’d feel better then, she thought.

A loud obnoxious (or so thought Bob) laugh cut her off before she could speak.

CRACK.

And there goes another weight.

—

Lunch hadn’t gone any better. Neither had dinner. At lunch, Bob chose to sit in his regular seat, hoping you would sit next to him — as you normally did.

You didn’t. You hadn't even gone to lunch. And neither had Walker. And then he hadn’t seen you at all that afternoon.

Then you arrived late to dinner. Your smile exasperated as you sat in the seat next to John, who had arrived shortly before you. Bob frowned at his plate. Was he that easily replaceable?

—

You were distracted during training. John had beaten you every time you sparred. Each match had ended with you pinned to the mat, confused as one second you were looking at Bob and the next you were being slammed into the ground.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong with you today?”

You looked at John, who held his hand out to help you up. You rolled your eyes. Now he wanted to be a gentleman. Unlike moments before when he’d body slammed you.

“Nothings wrong.”

He scoffed, “Sure. Nothings wrong.” He looked at where Yelena and Bob were weight training. What that man needed to lift weights for was beyond him. Maybe he just wanted to show off in front of his girlfriend. He snorted at that. “Why aren’t you paired up with your boyfriend?”

You glared at him, “He obviously wanted to train with Yelena. It’s not like we always have to be together, all the time.”

He narrowed his eyes, “Are you jealous?” He followed you to the bench. Chuckling softly as you attempted to escape his questioning.

He bit back a laugh as you snapped a quick no.

“You’re totally jealous.” This time he didn’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m not. But whatever. Think what you want.” You shot him a quick glare as you took a drink of water. He gave you a pointed look. “Go away.”

“You don’t want me to go away. Because then you’d be alone because your boyfriend would rather hang out with blondie than you.”

You gasped and smacked his arm. “You are such a jerk. It’s no wonder your wife left you.”

He snorted. “That’s a low blow.” He wiped the sweat off his brow. “Anyways, I still need to get new dress shoes for the gala,” he glanced at you sideways, “after your boyfriend's last incident. Anyways, wanna come with? It would probably do you some good to get out of the tower.”

“I was just gone like half of yesterday. But sure. Whatever.” He snorted once again at your passive-aggressive response.

—

Several hours later you and John had returned from your shopping endeavors. At lunch, he had managed to worm his way into your mind and make you admit that you were, in fact, jealous of Yelena.

He had assured you there was no reason to be. You had confided that you worried he might be getting sick of your presence.

John had laughed obnoxiously and incessantly at that. Once he’d finally managed to calm down he’d said, “I am certain there is no way that Bobby doesn’t want you around. He’s practically obsessed with you. I think he’d glue himself to you…if he didn’t hate the feel of glue on his hands. Actually, he might just do it anyway.”

You hummed dismissively as you looked out the window. How could he say that? He was there with Bob last night. He was the one Bob was talking to. He was the one that had called you clingy. Not the only one, she thought.

You’d never taken John for a liar, but you also never thought you’d lose Bob to your clinginess.

You considered that it would probably be annoying having you around all the time. He never gets any time alone. But you worried about him. You knew how he got when he was alone. You thought your presence made him feel better, but maybe not. Maybe you had overestimated your place in his life. He was the ‘Golden god’ after all. And you were…nothing compared to him. You shook your head.

“We should get going. Your shoes aren’t going to find themselves.” You redirected the conversation.

“You’re such a dork.” He snorted at the look you gave him.

“And you’re an abomination, don’t talk to me.” He snickered as he held the door open for you.

—

In the elevator at the tower, John had told you to talk to Bob after dinner. He’d reminded you that he and Yelena were just friends.

“Plus he always wants to be with you. You’re the one he chooses to spar with. Yelena was the one that picked him as her partner earlier, not the other way around. And, he always sits by you at meals.”

You smiled at him. You felt a bit more confident about your relationship with Bob now after speaking to him. John was a good friend, some of the time. You frowned as you remembered his conversation with Bob last night. You shook your head. You walked past him as the elevator opened, hoping to get to dinner before you lost your nerve.

“I’m going to set my bags down. I’ll meet you at dinner.”

He nodded in affirmation.

After putting the bags away, you headed to the kitchen. Walking in, you searched the table for Bob. You headed for your seat, only to stop when you saw Yelena happily eating mac and cheese…in your seat. Next to Bob. You glanced at John, who just shrugged at you.

Bob hadn’t even noticed your arrival for several moments as he was too busy whispering something to Yelena.

His back straightened suddenly and he turned to look towards the woman who had just walked in. Bob looked between you and Yelena, who was oblivious to the silent exchange happening. He frowned as you walked over and sat next to John, and smiled at him.

Bob looked away from you. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.

After seeing him whisper softly to Yelena, neither were you.

—

The next two days were a lot of the same. You gave Bob space and he gave you space.

At meals, he’d sit by Yelena and you’d sit next to John.

At training, you’d train with anyone but each other.

At nights, you stayed turned away from him, pretending you couldn’t feel his eyes on you.

By the morning of the gala, the rest of the team was fed up with their behavior.

Bob was more irritable. His eyes flashing silver more times than not.

And you were avoiding everyone altogether. Except maybe John, be he also couldn’t find you half of the time.

The rest of the team gathered in Bucky’s room (against his will) to discuss what to do about the situation.

“Whatever is going on with those two needs to stop.” Bucky.

“For once, I agree with Bucky. Bob, or Void actually, told me that he was glad my wife left me and that I was going to die alone. He said I should just kill myself and be done with it.”

“Jeez. He told me that I should've stayed in the lab. And that I should just take my suit off and allow myself to disintegrate so that-”

“Well he told me-”

“Hey, guys— we don’t need to talk about what he said to us. He didn’t mean any of it. But we do need to figure out what’s wrong with them before Void gets out of control.”

“Okay, Bucky, how are we supposed to know what’s wrong with them? It’s not like either of them are super approachable right now.”

Yelena scratched her nose. John coughs. Everyone turns to them.

“What do you guys know?”

“Why are you avoiding eye contact, Lena? Lena, answer your father.”

“Well, Bob doesn’t really know what’s wrong. And I don’t either! But the night we went shopping for our dresses; me, Ava and,” she says your name, “When we got back, she went to put her bags away and she was happy. But when I asked her about the movie, she seemed…off. Like there was something wrong with her. But I don’t know what it could be. Especially since Bob was still with you when we started the movie.”

“Yeah, Bob was still with us that night. We were talking about…oh no.” John’s eyes widened.

“What?” Yelena asked.

“Oh no.” Bucky repeated John’s words.

“What?” Ava asked urgently.

Bucky smacked John on the back of his head, “This guy thought it would be a good idea to tease Bob about how much time his girlfriend spends following him around. Called her clingy.”

John rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “How was I supposed to know she’d hear? Plus, he didn’t even call her clingy. He just said they’re always together. Not that he minds. And why would that upset her?”

“She obviously didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

“Oh yeah, obviously.” He rolled his eyes.

“Guys, this is serious.” Yelena interrupts, “She doesn’t think Bob wants her around and Bob thinks she doesn’t want him around.”

“Well what are we supposed to do?” Ava questions.

“Whatever it is, we need to fix it before the gala.”

—

They did not fix it before the gala. In fact, they just made things much much worse.

While You were out, Yelena broke into yours and Bob’s shared room. She found Bob sitting in the bed with his hands cradling his head. Muttering to himself.

“She…gone. Doesn’t want…broken…stupid…leave…hate…miss her…doesn’t miss you…scared…she’s not…gone…left.”

”Bob.” His head snapped towards her, eyes red, cheeks stained with tears.

“You should go.”

“Oh Bob,” she sat next to him on the bed, “What is going on with you…” she trails off at Bob’s sharp look.

“There’s nothing going on.” Yelena’s gaze softened despite his sharp tone.

“There is definitely something going on. You’re like, well this.” She gestures to his tear stained face, “And she’s avoiding everyone. Well everyone except maybe Walker.”

Bob let out a dark chuckle. “Of course she’s with him.” He muttered, mostly to himself but Yelena heard it.

“That’s the problem? Walker? John Walker? Oh Bob, you know they’re just friends. That’s all they’ve ever been. And she’s dating you. She’s not the cheating type.”

“Well she’s hardly ever with me anymore. She can barely get through meals together in the same room, much less look at me. Which she doesn’t.” He laughed bitterly, “Even at night, she pretends to sleep, and I pretend not to notice,” His eyes flashed silver, “I bet she doesn’t pretend to sleep when she’s with Walker,” He glowered at the doorway, “I bet she doesn’t need to for what they’re doing.”

Yelena gasped, “Bob! You know she’d never do that.”

But Bob was gone. This time his eyes didn’t just flash. This time the dangerous glint stayed.

“Actually I don’t know. Maybe I would know if she wasn’t so busy throwing herself at any man available.”

Yelena gasped, “You don’t mean that.”

He looked back at her, expression cool, “I do, I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

He continued in a lowered voice, “Pretending to sleep while she is in my bed.” He stood up then, voice firm, “I should kill him. Then she’d come back. She wouldn’t have to waste any more of her time with him. She thinks I’m not good enough for her? He’s so much worse.”

Yelena shot up then, “You cannot kill Walker. She’d never forgive you.”

His eyes kept their silver glint, “I don’t need her to forgive me. I just need her to stay.”

—

Yelena left the room, shutting the door softly in hopes she wouldn’t agitate him further. She turned around quickly at a sharp gasp.

You were standing there, across from Yelena.

“You can’t go in there.”

“Right…” You trailed off, “And why can’t I go into my room?”

“Technically it’s Bob’s room.” Yelena flinched as she said the words, already wishing she could take them back.

You flinched too, taken aback by Yelena’s words. “Did— did he tell you that?”

“Um,” Yelena looked around desperately, hoping someone else from the team would show up to help her, “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly.” You repeated, “So he did then?” You glared at the doorway that Yelena was still standing with her back to. You are mad now. How dare he call he go behind your back and call you clingy. And now he was hanging out with Yelena alone in their his room? Oh, you were mad. You were furious.

“Where’d you put my dress?” You asked suddenly. Yelena’s body went rigid at your icy tone. You were going to make Bob regret ever pushing you away.

Yelena frowned at the bite in her friend’s tone.

“It’s in my room. I’ll help you get ready.” Yelena pulled you down the hall towards her room.

—

3 hours later, your hair was in a sleek low bun with tendrils framing her face.

Your makeup was done, complete with shimmery silver glitter coating your eyelids. You were wearing the dress you’d picked out with the girls.

Bob was going to lose his mind. If he cared enough to notice you. And maybe you were being dramatic. Maybe you were overreacting. But…it had been days and he hasn’t tried to talk to you. He hasn't reached out. You shook your head. Enough about Bob. You weren't going to cry and ruin the makeup you had just spent so long applying.

—

“Look over here, over here!”

“Bucky!”

“Congressman Barnes!”

“Ma’am! Ma’am!”

You forced a smile as you passed the paparazzi on the way to the entrance. Yelena and Bob were going to drive separately. You weren't told why, but had noticed hushed whispers exchanged by the rest of the team. Maybe none of them want you around. You frowned. Not everything is about you.

John guided you to the bar with his hand respectfully placed on your back. At least he seemed to want you around.

“You look miserable.” John snorted.

You glared at him, “I am.”

His expression softened at your words. He glanced at the entrance. Bob and Yelena had just walked in. He cursed under his breath. Yelena was supposed to keep Bob at the tower, Valentina’s orders that the whole team had to make an appearance notwithstanding. He shook his head, he needed to get away from you.

He snapped his head towards you, “I need to talk to,” he scanned the room for a familiar face, “Valentina.” He flinched, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

So maybe he doesn’t want you around.

You pretended to laugh it off, “When have you ever wanted to talk to Valentina? Whatever.” You pushed him away playfully, hoping he wouldn’t see how hurt you were.

He wanted to say something that would make you feel better, but he had to get away before Bob saw them together. Man, he really did not want to be killed by someone named Bob.

—

“Come on, Bob. Wait up.” Back at the tower, before the gala, Yelena was attempting to stall Bob. She had already resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't keep him from the gala if she tried.

“No.”

“Bob, wait!” He ignored her.

Yelena and the team had agreed that she’d stay back with Bob. He was already struggling to keep his other side at bay, even without fighting with his girlfriend.

“You don’t even have a tie!” He turned to her with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I was supposed to have a tie. She was going to get one that would match her dress. When she went shopping with you and Ava. In fact, she was fine before leaving with you.”

He paused momentarily. Then his hand shot out and wrapped around her neck.

She clawed at his hand frantically. He lifted her slowly off the ground.

His voice took on a darker tone, “What did you say to her?” He glared at her.

With his hand still around her neck she choked out a soft, “Nothing. We didn’t say anything at all.” She shut her eyes tightly. Everyone else had left already, they’d rushed you out the door. “She was fine until we got back.”

Her vision was getting spotty now. “She only seemed upset when I went to ask if she wanted to watch a movie with us. Really.” Her eyes pleaded with him. He glared back.

He tilted his head thoughtfully to the side and set her down.

“I’m going to the gala, I don’t care what you do. Just don’t get in my way.”

—

Miraculously, sometime between him choking her and them arriving at the gala, she had managed to get Bob back.

Yelena finished concealing the bruises on her neck as Bob tried to remember what had happened back at the tower.

She shushed him as he mumbled apologies repeatedly.

“Just don’t hurt anyone else, Bob. Don’t hurt her.”

At that, he seemed to shrink in on himself.

“I wouldn’t hurt her.” But all he could think of is that he already had.

—

The back of his neck burned as cameras flashed. He could only hope the pictures wouldn’t show his shame.

Yelena whispered soft reassurances as she pulled him past the paparazzi. The noise of their shouts drowned out as he kept his eyes on the door.

Only 3 more steps and then no more cameras.

Once they got inside, he felt like he could breathe again. He tried to relax his shoulders but they didn’t seem to want to stay down.

He frowned as he noticed Yelena stop next to him. He looked around for whatever could’ve made her freeze like that.

His body tensed as his eyes landed on you. The air was knocked from his chest as he looked at you. You were beautiful. He smiles and shook a step forward, only to stop when he noticed what you were doing. As you sat at the bar, you were laughing — with John Walker. His chest tightened.

He glowered at Walker as he walked away from the bar. Leaving you behind. His girlfriend.

Mine. The other side of him was screaming in his mind. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to go to you or tear Walker apart limb from limb.

“Bob.” His ears were ringing.

“Bob.” His hands were shaking.

“Bob!” His blood ran cold.

Ignoring Yelena’s hushed exclamations of his name, he walked towards his girlfriend.

His girlfriend who was watching him approach. Watching Yelena tug on his arm. Watching him glare at her. At her.

You wiped your palms on your dress, hoping to calm your racing heart.

He froze. Eyes darting to your right. You followed his gaze.

Standing next to you was a man. A man who happened to be very important, as he was the biggest investor in the New Avengers.

You weren't sure how Valentina had managed to convince him to invest in the team, but you were sure that Valentina would kill you if he stopped funding the team because of you. All you wanted was to smooth things over with Bob.

Your anger had started to dissipate when you’d seen him walk in. Cheeks flushed, chest heaving.

That was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. You loved him. And you wanted to fix this…thing between you two.

But he’d have to wait. At least until you were done ensuring that your job was secure for the foreseeable future.

You shot out of your chair, hands rushing to shake his.

Rushing so much that you managed to knock the drink out of his hands and all over his suit.

A few strangled gasps rang out from around the room.

“I am so, so sorry, Mr….” You trailed off, remembering that you didn’t actually know his name. Your cheeks turned pink as he laughed.

“Kennedy, Ma’am. And no worries, this suit was only several thousand dollars.”

“Oh, only several thousand?” You laughed, hoping your awesome sense of humor and charm could keep him from withdrawing his investments.

“Yes, I will admit it’s one of my cheaper suits…” You laughed politely in turn, wishing this conversation would end soon.

—

He was seeing red. The hair on his arms stood straight up. He growled. He actually growled.

Yelena was fully pulling his arm now. Attempting to drag him towards the back of the building.

But he wasn’t budging. He stood there, watching you laugh at something this guy was saying. Did you even know him? And if you did, how many other men did you know here? Bob shook his head and looked at his feet. That was Void talking, not him. What’s the difference? He snapped his head back towards you.

You were looking back at him. The man is still talking beside you, but you were looking at him. He grinned sadistically. You flinched. He glared at you before turning abruptly and walking away..

—

He had to get out of there before the Void took over fully. Yelena ran after him.

“Bob! Bob! Wait up.”

He continued stomping towards the balcony, mentally thanking Bucky for making the team go over the floorplan and exit strategies.

“Bobby.” He turned sharply and lifted Walker by the collar of his suit jacket.

“Stay away from her. Don’t touch her, don’t talk to her, don’t go near her. Stay. Away.” He glowered at John through the fringe of his hair.

“You gotta calm down, man. Someone’s gonna get hurt.”

“I’m going to hurt you if you don’t back off.”

Bob’s eyes glinted silver as he threw Walker to the ground and took off into the night sky.

—

Back at the tower, Bob had managed to calm down from his murderous rage. Slightly. Void was gone but Bob still wanted to strangle Walter Walker and that man at the bar.

Unfortunately, by the time Bob came to, the bedroom had been trashed. She is going to be so mad when she finds our room like this, he thought. He hurriedly started cleaning the room that had been torn apart.

He started by picking up the shards of glass from the lamp he’d thrown. Your lamp. Man, he’s really done it this time. He shook his head as he assessed the damage. It was bad. Really bad. The voice in his head got clearer as he gripped the dresser.

You always mess everything up. No wonder she wants nothing to do with you. She can’t even stomach looking at you.

He groaned as he cracked his neck. Your water cup had been knocked off the nightstand. He still left water for you every night, hoping you’d acknowledge him. Hoping he could still be useful.

As he reached between the nightstand and bed, he noticed that the bottom drawer had opened. Inside it lay a dark blue tie. He frowned as he slowly pulled it out of the drawer. So you had gotten him a tie? He thought you’d forgotten. Or chosen not to. There was only one thing he could think of now.

Why hadn’t you given it to him?

—

After seeing Bob stomp away, you hurriedly excused yourself from the conversation with Mr. Kelley? Campbell? Carter? You weren't sure, but it didn’t matter.

All you wanted was to see Bob. To apologize for being clingy? To beg him to give you another chance? You weren't sure exactly, but at this point you were willing to do anything if it meant he’d want you again.

You headed for the service entrance. Mentally thanking Bucky for making the team go over the floorplan and exit strategies.

Ducking past several servers carrying trays, you finally made it to the door. Steeling yourself against the cold air, you ran towards the tower.

It was only 4 blocks, what’s the worst that could happen?

———————————————————

Well, as you later found out, the worst that could happen was being kidnapped.

Bob was going to kill you. Or them. Or you and then them. Or vice versa. Probably vice versa.

“Hey I’m talking to you.” You tuned him out as he started spouting off obscenities. “I said, if you want to go home, you better hope your people are willing to pay more than my buyers are.”

“Okay, I’m…” You pretended to be nervous, mascara streaks running down your face. You made a mental note to buy waterproof mascara, although this did add to your theatrics, “I’m sure they will. They just need to know that they need to,” a hiccup to emphasize your distress, “need to know that they have to — have to pay.” You sniffled at the end. A pause.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, lady. I’ll get you a phone. One call. That’s it. If they don’t answer, you’re going to the highest bidder. If they do answer, well, you’re still going to the highest bidder, it just might be them.” The man laughed as he walked away. Bingo.

You looked around frantically, trying to gauge your surroundings. Looks like they brought you to an abandoned warehouse. How cliche. The wall to your right was covered in broken window panes, the bottom ones had tarps covering them.

There were several other men milling about; cleaning weapons, sorting cash, one was even drinking. Typical henchmen activities.

The man from before came back holding a dingy duct tape wrapped burner phone. They either weren’t very good at their job or just not paid well.

She looked him over; dirty jeans with a hole at the ankle, moth eaten shirt with oil stains, and a backwards baseball cap covered in grease marks. He wasn’t even trying to hide his identity. You rolled your eyes. Of course you’d be kidnapped by amateurs. The team was never going to let you live this down.

“One call.” He gave you a pointed look as he held the phone out to you.

You looked down at where your hands were tied to the chair you were sitting in.

“Um?” You prompted.

“Oh yeah, here.” He cut the rope that was strapping your dominant hand to the chair. You wished you could have laughed at him. Out loud. You definitely laughed in your head.

He handed you the phone. You thanked him in a ‘tearful’ voice.

Dialing Bob’s number, you prayed he’d answer.

One ring.

Two rings. Your breath hitched.

Three. You closed your eyes.

“Hi, it’s Bob. I can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message and I might get back to you.” You cringed. Your eyes starting to water. He didn’t answer. He always answers.

“Hi Honey,” You cried, not even having to pretend anymore. “I miss you. I’m so sorry about —” The kidnapper barked at you to get to the point. A few of the other men looked over at them. You hiccuped. “Um, I was kidnapped. He said that I’m going to be sold to the highest bidder.” You sniffled. “And if I’m lucky, it would be you.” Your eyes darted past the man, to the others, counting how many weapons there were. You paused, pretending to listen to the person on the other end of the line.

You turned to the man who had kidnapped you. “How is he supposed to pay you?”

“Tell him to bring cash, go to the train depot by the docks, and I’ll find him.” Bingo again. Now you knew where you were. You repeated the information back into the phone.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant and I love you, Honey!”

“Enough!” He took the phone from your hand, “Your one call is up missy. You better hope he —”

You jumped up, turned around and swung the chair into him, knocking him backwards.

“What —” Before he could even finish his sentence you had cut the rope off your other hand using the knife in your thigh holster. You tackled him to the ground. Mentally scoffing at how they didn’t even check for weapons.

A shot fired, hitting the ground next to you.

“Hey, watch it! She’s no good to us dead. Or mangled.” You jumped up.

As you swung her fist into the closest man’s jaw, you calculated the distance between yourself and the door.

Too far.

You turned back to the man and punched him in the neck. Wind knocked out of him, he fell over. Then you were able to kick him in the head and knock him out.

Another shot. And another. You dodged both of them.

You reached for the gun of the closest assailant, he jumped back. So you jumped with him. Tackling him to the ground, you grabbed his gun and shot him in the shoulder then the stomach. He cried out as his blood soaked your dress. Then you shot him in the head.

Another shot rang out, clipping your side. You gasped in pain, groaning as you rolled over, dragging the man's body with you for cover.

As you pulled his body towards an overturned table, you looked around the room. Only 2 men left. The man with the phone and the drunkard.

Well, you couldn’t get information from the drunk.

As soon as you were behind the table, you let the man drop from your grasp.

Shots continued to ring out, splintering the wood of the table you hid behind.

You checked the gun’s magazine clip. Only 2 bullets.

You checked the man’s body, no extra ammo.

Seriously, what kind of man doesn’t carry around extra ammo?

Well, at least you’re a good shot.

As soon as the shots stopped, you peeked over the table and aimed for the drinker’s head. His body fell to the ground, a slight ringing in the air as it echoed your shot.

The man with the phone looked at his co-kidnapper’s body. While he was distracted, you shot him in the hand, making him drop his gun. You leaped over the table and wrapped your legs around his neck, knocking him to the ground. You pulled out your knife

Knife to his throat, you threatened him.

“Shhhh, shhhh, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you too bad. ‘S long as you do what I say.” You grinned wolfishly as he whimpered.

“What’s your name?” He looked around desperately, only to find all of the others’ bodies lying still.

“Henry. Henry Miller.” His voice high.

“Okay Henry Miller, here’s what we’re gonna do…”

——————————————————

You were able to call the police using Henry Miller’s burner phone.

They made quick work of searching the warehouse. It was empty aside from a couple bags of cash and files, presumably saved to use as blackmail.

Henry managed to get a plea deal in exchange for everything he knew about the rest of the trafficking organization.

You were offered a ride back to the tower and quickly accepted, figuring you weren't going to try your luck walking alone in heels through the city. Again.

Bob was gonna kill you. If you didn’t kill him first for not answering.

—

Bob was a mess.

When the rest of the team had arrived at the tower, several hours after you and Bob had left, he’d asked where you were.

The team exchanged tense glances before telling him that you had left the gala alone. That they figured you’d be back by now.

Yelena said she had tried to call him, he held up his broken phone in response.

He croaked out your name before clearing his throat, “She left me a message earlier, but I couldn’t open it. What if she needs help?” His eyes started watering. He wiped the tears away roughly, not caring to hide them away from the rest of the team.

“Well, what’re we supposed to do? Scour the city? Send out a search party?” Walker questioned.

Bob glared at him, “If we have to. I need to find her.” Softer he spoke, “I need her.”

The team exchanged glances again.

Alexei spoke up this time, ever the optimist. “I'm sure she’s fine. They do not call her Nightstalker, Killer of Men for nothing.” Walker snorted.

“It’s true. She’s probably just getting food at that food truck you guys like.”

Bucky cut in, noticing Bob’s chest starting to heave, “We can access the message, let me just plug it into this transcriber.” Bob nearly chucked the phone at Bucky.

Walker snorted.

Bob just glared at him in response. John put his hands up, “Okay, well on that note, I’m going to bed. Wake me for breakfast when I can rub it in your faces that you’re all being dramatic and she’s fine.”

“I hope he never wakes up.”

“Bob!” several voices call out.

“Okay that's actually hilarious, Bobby.” John snorted, “And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Bob, you can’t just say that.” Yelena chastised.

“We need to find her.”

“We need to be nice to our teammates.”

Bob rounded on Yelena, eyes flashing silver. “I need her to be okay. I need to find her. So suit up and look for her or get out of my way.”

“Okay, file is ready to transfer.” Bucky spoke.

Bob was there in a flash, hands grabbing onto the desktop. the rest of the team, minus John (and you) gathered around, close enough to hear but far enough to avoid Bob’s wrath.

Your voice started playing through the speaker.

“Hi Honey,” The metal of the desk creaked as Bob tightened his grip as your voice trembled.

“I miss you. I’m so sorry about —” A man could be heard yelling something unintelligible from the other end of the line.

You hiccuped, “Um, I was kidnapped. He said that I’m going to be sold to the highest bidder.”

You sniffled as Bob started to shake with rage.

“And if I’m lucky, it would be you.”

A pause. Bob’s heart pounded, threatening to burst from his chest.

Your voice was distant as you spoke this time, “How is he supposed to pay you?”

A man’s voice. The same one that was yelling. Closer this time, “Tell him to bring cash, go to the train depot by the docks, and I’ll find him.”

You repeated the man’s words. A sharp inhale, yours.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant and I love you, Honey!”

“Enough!” The man’s voices was even closer now. Too close. “Your one call is up missy. You better hope he —” The message stopped.

Bob was panting now. His blood ran cold. His eyes were solidly silver as he crushed the desk beneath his hands.

“Get your suits on. Find her.” Bob tossed the couch into the wall as he passed, headed for the balcony.

“Um guys?” Ava spoke softly.

The rest of the team had started suiting up as Bucky worked on pinging your location using the gps tracker you kept in your shoes.

“Guys.” No response.

“Guys!”

“WHAT?” Everyone turns to look at Ava.

“It’s her. She’s back. Downstairs.” Bob appears next to her, faster than humanly possible.

He rips the tablet from her hands, watching it intently. On it, he sees a police car pull up outside the front of the building. He watches as an officer walks around to the passenger side and opens the door. A woman steps out, dress soaked in blood, bandages wrapped around her forearms.

Bob freezes. The elevator dings. Everyone turns with bated breaths. The doors open with a soft woosh.

You step out of the elevator, adjusting the neckline of your dress. You freeze when you see the rest of the team.

Bob breathes out your name. You’re already looking at him.

“We’re just gonna…”

“I’m going to…”

“We can talk in the morning…”

Everyone started announcing their departure. Ava phased through the doorway. Yelena pulled Alexei out into the hall.

You and Bob continued to stare at each other.

Bob's eyes wandered over your figure. Taking in your mascara stained cheeks. Taking in every cut and bruise. Every bloody bandage. He winced.

You took your time looking at him. His suit jacket was off, shirt untucked with the top few buttons undone.

In one hand he held a broken phone and in the other he held the tie you’d gotten. Your gaze softened.

“You got me a tie.”

“You didn’t answer the phone.”

You both spoke at the same time.

Your eyes watered.

He blinked.

“You —” he cut himself off with a shuddering breath, “you got me a tie. Why didn’t you give it to me?”

“You didn’t answer the phone.”

“My phone —”

“Is broken. I know.” You closed your eyes and laughed breathlessly. “I’m just processing that.”

You snapped your eyes open to look at him. He stared back, eyes wide. He’d missed your laugh.

“If your phone wasn’t broken…would you have…would you have answered?”

“I’ll always answer.” You nod hesitantly at this. He clasped his hands together behind his back, hoping to ease the burn as they yearned to reach for you. To touch you. To reassure you. To make you understand how much he cared, how much he needed you.

He was looking at you reverently, eyes glassy as he spoke, “I’d do anything for you.” Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“Really?” You asked, looking up at him in wonder.

“Just say the word and I’ll do it.”

You smile at him. For the first time in about a week, you smile at him. He exhales softly.

He smiles back.

“You got me a tie. Why didn’t you give it to me?” He repeats his earlier question.

“I didn’t think you wanted it.” He flinches at this.

“Why would you think that?” He asks incredulously.

She looks away. Eyes wander over the common area. She blinks. Just now noticing the torn pillows and broken television.

“What happened in here?”

“Why would you think that?” He asks more firmly, ignoring her question.

You look up at him. Your shoulders sink and your cheeks turn a bright red. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He wishes he could do that. He wishes you’d let him.

“I heard you talking to John.” His hands clench at the mention of the other man, “You said I was…always around. He called me clingy. You agreed. Or…you just didn’t disagree.” You trailed off as his gaze got more intense. “I thought you wanted some space. So I gave it.” As you spoke, he stepped closer, reaching for you.

“Space is the last thing I want. And you’re the last person I’d want it from. Yeah, I told John we were always together, but I also told him I didn’t mind. That I want you around. That if anything, I’m the clingy one.” He took a shuddering inhale. “These past few days, without you, with you ignoring me — it’s been killing me.” He put his hand on your face, holding it to his chest.

“Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked, “Don’t push me away again.”

You shook your head rapidly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Standing on your tiptoes you peppered kisses across his face. You pressed your lips to his. He grinned against your lips.

They could talk about what happened to you in the morning. For now, it was enough that you were here. That you were his.

Tightening his hold on you, he hoisted you up and carried you down the hall to your bedroom. The one you shared.

He set you down inside and softly shut the door.

“Oh wow.” You breathed out.

Looking around the room, Bob remembered the mess he’d made and then abandoned after finding the tie.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

“‘Oh yeah’ he says, ‘Oh yeah.’” You giggled. He turned to glare at you playfully, but found he couldn’t even pretend to be upset with you. Not when you were smiling at him. Not when you loved him. So he settled for picking you up and tossing you on the bed. You laughed as he pounced on top of you.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Bob.”

He blinked at you.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You pressed more kisses across his face.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he repeated his words, “Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

He felt like he could breathe again. His eyes watered as he smiled widely.

“I love you too.”

A/N: AHHHH THIS WAS MY FIRST EVER FIC (so please be kind), but I’d love any feedback!! Let me know what you guys thought of this!

-Xoxo, Amoebadue🤍

[lemotmo]

I think we should all be reminded of this more often:

What are the Upfronts?

***

Source: wikipedia

Source: 6ABC.com

We have never, in the history of 911, seen advertising for Buddie on such a grand scale. We were bombarded with it. Just when we thought it was over, something new dropped. It was insane and absolutely glorious.

Unfortunately these Upfronts were held in the same week of the season finale. A season finale that came after a couple of episodes that were not well received, because of Bobby's death and the way all of the characters' personal storylines were sidelined in the wake of his death.

If these Upfronts had been held only one week later? Things would have looked decidedly different. Fandom would have been excited for Buddie in season 9.

The timing was just bad and we were all so swept away by Ryan and Oliver's chemistry that we forgot what these Upfronts were really about: Season 9.

So taking all of that into consideration? Coupled with the fact that Ryan and Oliver would NEVER consciously shipbait in any way? They were just there to promote the next season.

I am looking forward to season 9. I have been on this ship since 2019. I'm not leaving until I see those two idiots und up together. I am still 100% confident we'll get there.

But as I've stated before, I have no idea of the timeline. The only thing I know is that, after the major clues in season 8 and the Upfronts? Season 9 seems very promising right now.

Let's not forget that all of that Buddie build up from season 8 is still right there. It didn't just vanish. Non fandom people picked up on it and have clued in that something is brewing between Buck and Eddie. Even more so, a lot of them are anticipating for something to happen between them in season 9.

Buddie firmly stepped out of the strictly fandom spaces, into the limelight of the general audience. That is huge and so much more than what we ever got from FOX.

Further more, the members of the GA who dislike the idea of Buddie can now switch over to '911: Nashville'. It seems like that show will be right up their alley. Good riddance.

In conclusion:

Was the last part of season 8 one giant mess? Yes.

Did Bobby's sudden death throw a wrench into everyone's personal storylines? Yes.

Was there a lot of weird bts stuff going on with Peter/Bobby's goodbye? Yes. Something happened behind the scenes, that much is clear. I don't think we'll ever find out the full truth about that though.

Were we disappointed by how all of this was handled? Yes. As we should be.

But we're past that now.

The Upfronts clearly showed us that Buddie is, now even more than ever, very popular. With audience, fans and the press alike.

Narratively speaking there is only one way this can go. This show has written itself into a corner when it comes to Buddie. The foreshadowing is very clear.

No other love interest will ever compare or be good enough anymore. There is no beating the natural chemistry between Ryan and Oliver. We saw it on full display last week.

So yeah...

You don't have to agree with me or anything like that. I'm not here to proclaim that my opinion is the only opinion that is right.

Everyone is free to draw their own conclusions and make their own decisions. Whatever you decide to do is completely valid and true.

I just wanted to offer some perspective. That's all.

That being said, you can probably tell that I'm still all aboard the Buddie train. There's no getting rid of me. 😄😋

[venusbyline]

Continuing on that competence kink I was mentioning on my blog, it's my personal headcanon that Aemond would get so hot watching his partner be physically violent. Hurting someone, or torturing someone, committing war crimes... (I mean, the way he looks at Daemon after he's murdered Vaemond- HELLO THAT MAN GETS OFF ON VIOLENCE AND BLOOD)

tbh I never knew about competence kink until that post of yours, but when I saw it... everything makes sense 🤭🤭 I wanna join him in his freakiness

btw, I wrote this two days ago but I forgot to post it 😭😭

⚠️: SMUT & DARK CONTENT. female!reader, dom!Aemond Targaryen, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), competence kink, blood kink, blood licking, missionary position, non-graphic violence, implied Alys Rivers.

— high valyrian words used: Idaña (twin), Issa (yes).

There had always been something wrong with both of you.

Aemond noticed this when you were still children. He knew how angry you got when his bastard nephews teased him along with Aegon, he saw how you glared at Lucerys when the little boy gouged out one of your twin brother's eyes, just as he heard you mutter something about Rhaenyra deserving that scar on her arm after all that fight at Driftmark.

Your violent thoughts were just thoughts back then, but Aemond was not stupid. Despite trying to be a kind loving child, over time Aemond came to understand a little better what you felt.

He always liked your way of being, though. Sometimes he had lectured you if you expressed it around someone you should not, especially someone as prude as your mother. However, deep down Aemond liked to hear everything you had to say.

Alicent was furious when Aemond was younger and he went to talk to her about letting you start training with him and Ser Criston, after Aegon stopped being interested about swords. For the Queen, it was absurd for a girl to want to practice something like that, you were born to marry some lord and carry children, making more necessary alliances for the Greens when the right time came. After so much insistence from Aemond and even Ser Criston, who promised to your mother that no one but them would know that you were doing such a masculine activity, Alicent finally gave up on putting some sense into your mind.

Now, a few years later, you had proven a great worth to Aemond when you marched with him and Criston Cole to Harrenhal. Your dragon might be smaller than Vhagar, but you were willing to do anything he ordered during that war. After all, the two of you were twins and freak like each other.

Aemond felt horny watching you slit the throats of the men of the castle, your frustration at Simon Strong’s loyalty to the Blacks matching your twin's anger at the situation. The two of you were covered in blood as he sipped some wine with Ser Criston, because of Aemond's refusal to order the random woman with long black hair — the one whose life he spared, so he could keep as a servant — to draw you a bath yet...

Aemond wanted to see you like this for a little longer… Your silver hair was drenched in red drops, both a scarlet shade and a darker shade. You had killed so many people that the stains were a mess caused by other people's arterial and venous blood.

Ever since the entire family witnessed Daemon kill Vaemond Velaryon in front of everyone, the Prince Regent had been jerking off picturing what it would be like to see you committing all sorts of atrocities possible.

"Cole, leave me and my sister alone now." He ordered the knight, who nodded and left, taking the brunette servant with him.

"Feeling good, idaña?" Aemond teased, staring at you moaned with each deep thrust, the sounds of slapping skins echoing through the dark room.

You nodded, biting your lower lip at the feeling of your brother's cock sliding in and out of your warm cunt. He had already deflowered you many years ago, but nothing like that night. Aemond had never been so aroused and you had never been so tight before. "Mmm, issa..."

"Issa?" A low, husky chuckle rumbled from his chest, mocking your whining tone before he leaned down to nibble your neck, licking at the blood that dried there, the metallic, bitter taste making him growl and speed up the thrusts pace further. "Fuck... Your little cunt feels so fucking tight right now, sister. Such a freak thing, are not you? Just like me."

There was no need for a verbal response, though. Aemond had always known the truth. You were the only girl who matched the freak inside him.

[2hff]

I am also upset that the "big emergency" was so fucking lackluster. Like if Tim wasn't so fucking set on having the 118 "seperated and then finding their way back to each other" be at an uninspired building collapse then they could have been done with it in 12 minutes and spent the rest of the show on the actual storylines of the characters finding their way back home.

You know what would have been a MUCH better flow for the episode:

>Everyone at the station. Eddie gets his turnouts. Hen says no cap. Buck, being a dick, says "It's just a number now." Chin looks around and says something like "That's it, then? Eight years of us and it's just over?" Sad faces. Dramatic tension visible as they all won't meet each others eyes, etc. Blah blah moody lighting and camera angles, our babies are going through it.

>They get the call for the building collapse while all still together. Call center makes it seem like they're not going to have a lot of back up (all the other firehouses are actually off grieving bobby or some shit), so Eddie decides to go with them.

>The rescues still play out basically the same except FASTER. Chim AND Hen find Athena cause they're clearing the building. (There was no reason to have the whole athena/chim together thing because NOTHING really happened to move their characters forward until everyone else got there.) Gerrard doesn't let Eddie go with Buck because he's technically not employed so he has to stay down there. When Buck and Ravi get trapped, he has his idea. Bing Bang Boom shave off like idk 7 minutes.

>The Graham scene still plays out EXACTLY as it was on the show. (THAT is what we should have had with Bobby's death.) The whole team working to save him. The tension, the fear, the grief was thicker in that scene then the dust floating around and the soot coating their faces. And then the save. And the relief. And the imagery of them all carrying Graham out into the light as a TEAM?? Breathtaking. And then. And then...they all turn away from each other because even though they were united in that one moment - these people are still monumentally fractured in their mourning.

>Chim's Goonie's Never Say Die speech still happens, but without the whole calling out Buck and Eddie and not giving them the choice. But something more pleading. Please don't leave, please don't break this family even more. Please don't. Slightly more optimistic lighting and camera angles. There's a softening. A small release of tension.

>Then you spend the other idk 29.5 minutes stitching our babies back together. You see someone reach out to the other. You see Hen in the car with Athena. You see Chim and Maddie (and well EVERYONE if this was the 118 from several seasons ago) at the adoption. You see Eddie talking to Chris about moving back, with Buck in the background. You see them packing and unpacking. You see Buck sleeping on the couch with apartment hunting tabs open on his computer. You see Chim stocking gear and Buck checking off on his clipboard. They're teasing each other. You see Hen laughing in the background with Ravi - showing him a picture of Figure Skating Bobby. You see Eddie opening his locker and hanging his photo of him and Chris up. You see Chim slapping him on the back. You see Buck cooking in the firehouse. You see Athena placing one of Bobby's aprons around Buck's neck. She lingers over his heart. You see Maddie joining them for lunch. You see her water break. You see all of them jumping up and chaos getting her down the stairs. You see them piling in to the ambulance and captain's vehicle to race to the hospital. You see Athena clearing the way in her police car. You see Ravi looking like he's going to check how dilated Maddie is and then Buck elbowing him and covering both their eyes as Chim does it. You see Karen ushering Denny and Mara into the car at their house cause Eddie called since Hen's driving. He grabs the bar above the door as they take a turn. Hen flashes him a smile and Eddie shakes his head. You see May on the phone and yelling at Harry and Christopher to stop gaming cause they gotta go! You see the ambulance arrive at the hospital and they're pulling Maddie out of the back. It's cinematically shot almost the same way as when they all brought Graham out of the building. Only this time. This time there is joy. There is family. They are together. They have found each other again. They have chosen this. Chim places Robert KEVIN Han into Athena's arms. "Hello, Bobby."

See. It's basically the EXACT SAME EPISODE. No Buddie Canon, No Bobby alive in a govt research lab. It's the same. Only so so so much better and about the characters. It's about the family of the 118.

[echantedtoon]

The Way The Cookie Crumbles

When dreams dance and fantasies swirl, the shadows prance and hallucinations whirl. Tis not but a dream, not what it seems. But to be fair, you should beware. For not everything in the dream is a fake scheme. 

(Or a Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader Oneshot based on my Dream Demon S.M.C Au. And no he's not a cookie in this au, I based what his demon design looks like as the pic I used as the Coverart/linked. Found on Pinterest. I used some of his voice lines. Warnings for demon summoning(??), yandere themes, and blood mentioned.

The song used is Circus Monster (English Cover) by Jubyphonic. He might be ooc in this cuz it's my first time writing for him.

m.youtube.com/watch?v=aQgXq42nD8I&pp=ygUcY2lyY3VzIG1vbnN0ZXIgZW5nbGlzaCBjb3Zlcg==  )

Would you take a deal with the devil?

The foggy memories and distant dreams are one of the few things you've experienced since taking part in that strange bet. It wasn't supposed to be a real thing. Just a silly game to be had at a sleepover with the girlfriends. Someone had brought up the typical game traditional for the event. A ouija board but that would not suffice.

"That old thing again? It never works when we use it anyways so what's the point?"

"You got any better ideas?"

"Let's try summoning something like in the movies!"

"Seriously?"

"Oh c'mon. It's all fake anyways. It'll be a fun. I know this urban legend we can try out!"

You all were uneasy, but didn't believe in anything like this. After all things like ghosts and goblins only existed in movies and fairy tales, plus it might've even been fun! So you all went along with it. As the urban legend goes if you take a black glass and fill it with milk, place a single drop of blood, then leave it in the darkest corner of the house, and then say an incantation, the Shadow Milk Man will appear. Sorta like Bloody Mary but only more ridiculous sounding. Drawing straws it was you who had the short end and so you were the one who had to prick their finger and offer a drop of blood into your friend's black mug which she then stuck in the closet. Then you all stood back holding back giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

"Shadow, shadow will arise, new moon hides from eyes. Shadow shadow will arise, new moon hies from eyes," your friend dramatically changed at the door as you all giggled. "Deep dreamscapes veer and steer away, for the darkness of minds comes to play. Unholy follies are to pay. We call the one whom creeps in dark, for our words he must harm. Come forth to accept the offer for the one you seek is the one who's blood has been leaked."

The giggling persisted as you all waited for something to happen. And waited. And waited long enough for enough to not find this entertaining anymore. Your chanting friend pressed their ear to the door listening before opening the door and finding the still full mug of milk sat there untouched.

"Told you it wouldn't work. Oh well. It was good for a laugh."

"Maybe we have to wait longer?"

"Are you seriously going to just leave that sitting in your closet all night?", you asked raising a brow. 

With a shrug your friend just closed the door and turned back around. "Eh. I'll dump it out in the morning."

"Now I know you're crazy. *Sigh* Whatever. It's your closet you're stinking up. Can I have a bandaid for my finger now?"

"Sure. Give me a second. They're in the kitchen." 

In the darkness of the closet, unseen from prying eyes, and behind the darkened door shadows moved. Eyes opened wide between hung clothes and random knickknacks. And a razor sharp smile widened. Claws ensnared around cold porcelain and lips wrapped themselves up around the rim. The sound of a satisfied sigh, and then the sinister chuckling of evil.

When morning came and the door was opened, and the empty mug was there to everyone's surprise. No one would confess to dumping out the milk. You knew one of them must've done it to mess with everyone else but no one would fess up. Whatever. You dropped it and moved on with your life. 

However that's when the dreams started to happen soon after. Usually you'd fall into a dreamless slumber only to wake up groggily the next morning, but lately you'd have very strange dreams. Dreams of being floating in a black abyss with multiple blue eyes staring at you in the endless void. Sometimes it was nothing in the darkness but loud giggles and invisible arms reaching out to grab your arms or touch your cheek but as soon as you awoke, there'd be nothing there. You brushed it off as stress from work and reading one too many horror novels, but oh how you were wrong. So, so wrong.

Because tonight was the night shadows danced in the dreamscapes of memories and emotions, of hearts and souls, fear and delight. 

For when your eyes closed that night you felt your world shift until you were standing upright and walking through a dark abyss. It felt so real, so solid. Your arms extended out in front of you to feel around in the dark for anything solid you might bump into. Until in the darkness a light appeared, far away at first but soon rapidly approaching. FAST. What was akin to a giant bright flashlight being shined in your eyes. Instinctually your arms covered your face for impact, and suddenly everything was bright. When you next opened your eyes-

You squealed out jumping back as a face was in front of you. YOUR face. Everywhere you turned to a throw, there was nothing but endless copies of your faces everywhere you looked. On the ceiling, beneath your feet, behind you- It took you a long moment to figure out that you were in fact surrounded by mirrors. Slowly a hand extended to touch the cold, smooth surface of the nearest wall flinching at how realistically cold it felt.

"This is the weirdest dream yet," you mumbled under your breath looking around.

There seemed to be a hallway in front of you, so with a dead end behind you, you started walking forward following the hallway of mirrors with an awestruck on your face. The hallway of mirrors never seemed to end, only going onwards and onwards, until unexpectedly you finally hit a corner. Turning the corner slowly you came to another strange sight.

It was a door.

A very...strange door. It was all blue minus the gold accents on the corners, the shiny golfed knob, and strangest of all a happy face comedy mask in the middle. Like the kind you'd find in theaters or plays. 

"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder doesn't it?"

Well you still couldn't go back until you eventually woke up again, so you might as well continue onwards until you couldn't go anymore or until you woke up. Slowly approaching the door you reached out a hand to slowly grab the doorknob, finding it as cold as the mirrors, with a twist it opened wide open and you were surprised to see how dark it was on the other side...Whelp. There wasn't anything to lose. Walking forward inside, the door slowly closed behind you leaving you in darkness once more. You could barely see three yards in front of you as you continued to walk. The cold reflective floor gone now replaced by what felt like wood under your feet. You couldn't see anything no matter how much you squinted in the dark. Barely being able to see-

Until something brushed up against your face!

"AH?!"

You jumped back swatting at the long tendril as it swayed back and forth from you hitting it. You panted as it harmlessly hung there... before you blinked.

"A rope?"

A brown rope dangled from the dark above. Your eyesight could make out the top but you saw other roles dangling from the ceiling too. A quick sweep of the floor had you noticing sand bags and to your far right was a massive wall of felt also dangling from the ceiling. A...curtain?

"Oh please don't tell me I'm having a nightmare about my fourth grade Christmas pageant," you mumbled in dread, "I hated being dressed up as the Hallmart knock off gingerbread man."

Curiously you approached the heavy curtain, knelt down reaching out to pull up the bottom and rose your brows when light flooded out. An exit maybe? Nothing ventured nothing gained you guess. The curtain was surprisingly thick and heavy, and you struggled to lift it up enough to duck under it coming out of the other side. Only to find even another surprise.

"Ok. Now this is getting ridiculous!"

Before you was more tented walls lit up by some unknown light source. The thick curtains making up the walls were various blues or white in color, all having glittery gold accents along the bottom train and studded with various cresent moon and star imagery. Before you there was two ways, left and right. It was like a maze at this point! A dark void, hallway of mirrors, and then this giant tent thing...No. Not a maze.

A fun house. A citrus. 

"What the heck did I read to give me this random dream?"

Debating a second you eventually turned left and made it two steps before something made you stop. It was...music. Pausing, you blinked before slowly looking behind you down the hallway of tents as it came from that direction. A loud blast of music echoed out that sounded like...a saxophone and violin??

"Time is dead and gone.~ Show must go on.~ It's time for our our act.~ They all scream at me.~ They cannot see this curtain hides me.~ An amazing gift.~ So quick and swift.~ You are amazing.~"

A melodist voice wafted over you from behind that sentence chills down your spine and goosebumps on your skin. Fear injected your veins like a virus as you stood frozen amongst the noises.

"By myself I can't.~ They start to chant.~ Why are you not here?~ Grinning at me.~ I lay at my knees.~ They want to hear me.~ Why can they not see?~"

You've..never heard that voice before. It was clearly male but it was..off somehow. A feeling that made your guts churn with unease. But you still walked towards the symphony of music and singing to get to the bottom of this.

"I swear if this stupid dreams ends with there being a creepy clown in here, I am never celebrating Halloween again."

"I want to see you.~ I have to see you.~ I need to see you.~ What happened to you?~ We go up on stage.~ They jump to enrage.~ Why are you not here?~Why is he so near?~ He wants me to sing.~ I just cannot bring. I say he's not you.~ What else can I do?~"

You quickly sped walked down the hallway that again split off in two directions. Your head turning both directions as the music sounded like it was coming from both directions. Eventually you went right again increasing your speed walk to a light jog.

"Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~"

You quickly picked up your pace before turning left on a whim, finding more and more curtains and hallways no matter which way you turned. 

"Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~ I lay all alone. I should've known you would've left me.~ He smiles at me.~ I cannot see why he's in your place.~ They can't tell me why you said goodbye right before our act.~ Those two lions were always fun.~ Why did they leave too?~"

The endless maze laughed at your frantic almost panicked form now full on running through these halls after some ghost. Were you chasing it or were you running away at this point?!

"Roaring at me.~ I lay on my knees. What is happening?~ I can hear you sing.~ They will not obey.~ They've been lead astray.~ Will I still see you?~ I have to see you.~ I panic and flee.~ They both pounce on me.~ I fell to ground.~ I fell to the ground.~"

You turned again and skidded to a stop. Mouth open and panting as you froze as you were in the center of a small room and there was a least six different pathways leading off into different directions from you and all looked exactly the same. Now what?!

"I look up to see you're not here with me.~ Am I all alone?~ Where could you have gone?~ Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~ Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

THERE!! The one in the very center! You quickly chased after the musical number as it started to slow down the rhythm and fade away. 

"Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~ Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

You ran and ran until you made one last turn and ran to what looked like a part in the curtains. Things slowly came to a full stop as soon as you ran through the open and you stopped. Panting and having for air while looking around the room you happened to find yourself in. It was a room as big as about three bedrooms with floor black and glittery beneath your feet. The curtains surrounding you were all a dark blue and there wasn't any parts or hallways leading anywhere...in fact the doorway you stepped through was magically gone as well leaving you trapped within.

"Am I having a stroke in my sleep or something?!"

"Maybe not a stroke but definitely tripping over yourself. Maybe it was something you ate."

You jumped whirling around wide eyed at the sounds of the male voice, but found no one around the room but the curtains. "Who's there?!"

"Whaaaat? You don't recognize the sounds of my scrumptious voice?~"

The voice sounded like it was coming from no where and everywhere at once so it was hard to pinpoint where exactly you should look. "You don't sound like anyone my brain would conjure up." Didn't sound familiar at all.

A small silence followed as you continued to look around the strange room.

"You spent so much time here right under my gaze for so long, and yet you have no idea who I am? I am hurt I must say."

"I don't even know where I am right now." Other than inside your own head in a dream. "Who are you anyways?" A figment of your imagination obviously not sure why you were asking. But who knows where this was going?

"Ugh. That question again? Booooring! I get asked that so many times I might as well ask myself it whenever I meet someone at this point," the echoing man's voice responded. 

"Wow. I didn't know my inner voice could be so sarcastic to me." That got a loud chuckle from the voice as you just stared up at the dark ceiling and crossed your arms. Well you were getting no where so maybe a more intuitive question. "Ok. Then can I talk to you face to face? Dream or not, it's rude not to be able to see whoever you're talking to."

"Finally! A question for me! And it only took five minutes of meeting you! What a record!"

Your brow rose. "So where are you?"

You jumped when the sounds of a LITERAL drum roll dramatically sounded off from no where just like the previous instruments had. 

"Im heeeeere! Ladies and gentledemons. The world's finest playwright, post, director, actor, clown, and everyone's most beloved trickster!"

Before you the curtains parted wide open. A loud explosion sounded out like a loud firecracker, white fog flowing out from the other side as the drumroll continued. Before from out of the fog, a figure twirled you leaned back as something landed with a thud in front of you.

"TADA! The star of the show has arrived!" The talk figure announced twirling a scepter and smirking like anyone would be impressed with his mere presence. "Whatcha think? Entrance stage right as the theater nerds say."

You...blinked. Could only stare at this..thing before you as he smiled down at your form. You were right. It definitely was a clown but a very ODD looking clown. Dressed up mostly in black from the shoes up with a few blue diamond patterns, except for a puffy white collar, and two puffy sleeves one white one black with blue stripes. Speaking of blue, his skin and eyes was various shades of blue too, as well as his hair with white and black sprinkled in but the thing that weirded you out the most was the plethora of eyes that stared back at you from the locks. 

You continued to stare, shaking your head blinking as your brain tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Before something tapped you hard on your head. 

"Hellooooo! Was my appearance too much for your fragile mindset or somethin'? Wouldn't be the first time I broke a mortal."

"Hey! Stop that!" You swatted his hands harmlessly away as he giggled, giving a glare. "Who even are you anyways?"

"Oh. Where are my manners?" Reaching up a blue hand, he pulled off a blue,black, and white jester hat you hadn't noticed before and dramatically bowed. "Shadow Milk at your service, or well you're more of a MY service now that I think about it." He popped back up just tossing the hat up and somehow it miraculously landed on his head again, before one hand went to his hip as the other tapped against his scepter whick had some kind of shiny blue gem in the shape of an eye on it's end. "Now that the boring introductions are outta the way, what say we get down to the bare crumbs?"

"Shadow...Milk?? That's a pretty weird name even for a clown."

He instantly frowned. "Hey!" The end of that scepter was pointed at your face. "Look here. You humans name your spawn Porsche and Mercedes. Last time I was on the human plane, those were the names of those guzzling metal carriages you ride in. Looots of death in those things."

"...Ok. Point taken." You guessed clowns were supposed to have ridiculous names anyways. You took a moment to really look over his frowning man jester thing as his foot tapped against the sparkly obsidian black floor beneath your feets. "What movie did I watch to conjure you up?"

"Pfft! Ahahaha!!" Throwing his head back he laughed loudly at the very thought he could be anything but a thing conjured up in your dream. "Absolutely NOTHING! Hate to break it to you, Cupcake, but this-" His hands gestured to his talk body with a proud smile. "-is aaaalllll natural! One hundred percent dark matter with a two percentage of calcium and hellfire from where I was baked in the fiery Dante's Inferno oven with guaranteed sinful actions!!"

You chuckled at his actions. "So you're what? A demon?"

"DING, DING, DING!! WE GOT OURSELVES A WINNER FOLKS!!" His hands clapped together letting the scepter float mid air. "A round of applause for you. You're actually the second fastest one to figure that out. The first one was the guy who wanted me to torture this rival king in his dreams. Ah. Such deliciously soul crushing memories.~ Brings a tear to my eyes."

"This is unbelievably." A hand reached up to rub your head. "It was probably the litter of coke I drank."

"Unbelievably or not we got a few things to go over. This part's boring so I just like to get it outta the way." With a snap of his fingers a rolled up paper and gold monocle appeared out of thin air only to Unravel by itself and the man, Shadow Milk, to place the monocle on his left eye to boredly read it. "Alright. As according to the rules between the different realms any deal made between a demon and mortal is binding until the task is completed or the higher ups cancel the contract, but you put us in quite the problem."

You couldn't believe this was happening. You were never drinking that much soda before bed again if it gave you a stroke level hallucinating fever dream like this- Wait. "Wait." He boredly glanced up as you pointed to yourself. "What do mean my fault?"

"To put it in little words you're inferior human brain would understand, I was summoned but it's all mixed up and not in the fun 'mess with the heads of the inoocents'" way I prefer." He looked annoyed pointing the monocle at nothing as he gestured with his hands. "I was summoned here by someone but YOU were my offering."

You blinked. "I was your WHAT?!"

He groaned rolling his eyes. "Don't any humans know basic rites anymore? Ok! I'll explain it the long way then." He took a dramatic deep inhale and turned to you. "When you summon a demon you can't just summon something for nothin', Cupcake. We expect to be paid for our work-" he made a money motion with a hand. "-just like anyone else. Usually it's something like sacrificing an animal or mutual benefits like getting to stay on this plane of existence for a spell, but in my infinite power and life I've never been in a puzzle like this."

"Wha-?" He cut you off by pointing a finger in your face.

"Your human friend summoned me, however it wasn't her blood but yours used in the offering so technically YOU are the one bound to me but usually the one who actually summoned me is who I serve. So you see? I'm literally stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"Then .. can't you serve us both if that's what's wrong?" You didn't know why you were going along with this.

"Usually yeah. It wouldn't be the first time I served a group of people." He leaned back against an invisible wall in mid air as he looked you over. "Problem is that you didn't exactly partake in the ritual itself and didn't concent to be an offering if you didn't know that you WERE gonna be one."

"Demons need concent for contracts?"

He shrugged. "The bosses down there are very touchy on rules what can I say?"

"Have you even tried talking to Margo?!" This was starting to get WAY too detailed to be real and it was starting to freak you out. 

"Ugh! Yes. But as soon as she found out your little game wasn't legend she freaked out. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I'm not getting anywhere with that lost cause. Sssooooo- You can see the problem I have here." He started holding up fingers with the listed off points. "She doesn't want anything. Technically I can't go back because I was summoned and I have to complete a task before I get off. There's no getting through to her, so that means I'm stuck in limbo which is WAY more difficult than Purgatory. At least their place has a waiting list. No completed ritual means I'm stuck between realms and can't get out until I'm banished back or a deal is completed! But there's problems with that too."

"Im a-afraid to ask."

"Technically you are my offering since it was your blood. So technically you're mine,  Dolly. Problem is that I can't claim you either as you weren't a part of the ritual by technicality, and while human sacrifices aren't unheard of, it's usually only certain types of beings that can accept unwilling souls as payments. Your friend doesn't even want anything from me so I can't complete anything for her, I can't just claim you without fulfilling my part of your concent, so this means I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

You stared at him. He stared at you cocking a brow at your face. The entire place going quiet as you felt the immense weight of the situation hit you. And if he didn't snap his fingers materializing a chair beneath you, you might've fallen to the sparkly ground in shock.

"I...You...Wh-What happens now then?!" You looked at him desperately. "Do you just make a deal with me then?!"

"That'd be the ideal choice, but unfortunately it's no longer up to me." Head in his hand he pointed the other one down. "The higher ups are discussin' this boring show as we speak, and they're already getting a headaches over it."

MORE demons!? "What are THEY going to do?!"

"They're trying to decide if there's anything to do here. It's confusing though since this hasn't exactly happened before, but worst case scenario they'll decide everything's null and void and arrange for an angel to come banish me back down there."

"An..Angel??"

"Mm hm." Then he made a face. "Knowing my luck it'll be Pure Vanilla."

..You blinked. "There's an angel called Pure Vanilla??.. You're joking this time."

"Oh I WISH I could joke about his existence being fake but unfortunately this isn't scripted or staged."...He then chuckled and smiled a maw of fangs at you. "Guess if worst comes to worst, Pure Vanilla is just gonna 'extract' me!~"

You stared at him.

"Oh, c'mon. Pure Vanilla extract?? That's a golden joke!" He sighed as you still stared. "Nevermind. I have better ones anyways." With a snap of his fingers everything disappeared minus the chair you sat on and he smiled wider in sinful delight as he floated on over. "Personally speaking, I hope they decide to let me keep you for my troubles.~"

You blinked as an arm skunk around your shoulders suddenly pulling you against his cold body. "Wha- WHY?!"

"I've been in your head for a while watching you work away on your stories, what you think, seeing how you do things. And I must say.." He almost purred the next few words. "I LIKE what I see.~ You're just my type of human.~" he pinched your cheek as you swatted his hand away quickly. 

"That's creepy!! And that's not gonna happen!"

"I'm afraid it's out of both of our hands, Cupcake. As they say 'that's how the cookie crumbles.'" A black pointed nail tapped your cheek as his smile widened more. "I'm afraid you're not going to be rid of me for a long, long time. Ehehehe!"

[kinardsboy]

Kinda rambling here and apologies in advance because a majority of my blog is rants but I kinda just need to get these feelings out about how… terrible eddie is as a friend .. this is gonna be a long ass post lol

Eddie is, at his core a very opportunistic person.

Now, I think I should preface this with saying that this alone does not make him a bad person, and I would even argue in his defense that it is likely a trauma response/survival mode from being a dad at such a young age, and losing army pals and Shanon. However, that is not an excuse for the way he treats people.

Let’s start with the biggest example: Buck. Buck does, frankly almost everything for Eddie. He babysits without complaining, cooks for Eddie, does Eddies chores (when Eddie seemingly has fuck all to do versus buck who just worked a full shift), rents eddies house for him so he can go to texas, and then leaves without complaint when Eddie wants to come back.

Looking at the babysitting aspect closer, we can see that Eddie uses Chris as a bandaid for Buck’s problems because, its the easiest solution. Chris is a child and Buck cant be too sad around him otherwise he’ll likely worry Chris. So when Buck got his leg critically injured and was unable to work, did Eddie come over and show concern for his friend? Or did he throw his son at the problem (and get free babysitting on top of that) all while boasting about fixing the “problem”?

Then, when Buck was (imo rightfully) suing the department for his job back, did Eddie show concern for his friend? Try to understand it from his perspective? No. Instead Eddie insulted Buck for not being able to deal with shit like everyone else and called him exhausting. Then, SPECIFICALLY called out the fact that Buck wasnt able to do anything for him. 1. Not being able to bail him out of jail and 2. Not being able to see Chris.

The next issue I take with Eddie and Buck’s relationship is that Eddie seems to think he’s the only one allowed to have emotions. Especially because he stuffs most of them down all the time, so when he finally takes his head out of his ass and lets himself show something it feels like he expects the world to stop in amazing and praise him for it.

So when Buck is going through something at the same time as him, lawsuit and bobbys death arcs, Eddie gets frustrated very easily. Now, Eddies anger is something I have mixed feelings about and is not going to be the main topic of this segment. But, in both instances we see Eddie being VERY easily frustrated at Buck and our most recent example we had Eddie grab Buck, make him flinch and get in his face like he was going to hit him. Then, similarly to the lawsuit arc he uses Chris as a bandaid to fix everything. While AGAIN, making Buck do more emotional labor to keep Chris comforted and happy while BUCK IS GOING THROUGH HIS OWN TURMOIL JUST LIKE THE CRUSHED LEG ARC. Not to mention he also puts his friend duties onto chris to fix his mistakes and comfort buck..

I dont want to discuss the entire buckeddie stuff in 8.17 because honestly? It was really triggering and manipulative and people have already done much more deep analysis on it than what i have just said- so..

All this to say, Eddie and Buck have what is in my opinion an unbalanced and toxic friendship.

Eddie’s relationship with the rest of the 118 is honestly, hardly shown. However I think thats another point to my side, that Eddie is friends with them because its convenient and easy. He works with these people every day and naturally builds a bond with them due to the risky nature of their job.

This isnt to say Eddie hasnt done anything for Buck or the 118, but with Buck especially, its very unbalanced.

Two former 118 members were also see this issue with is Tommy and Lena,

Starting with Tommy: Tommy was a great friend for Eddie because he provided him with a lot of things. Fun (no doubt expensive for Tommy) excursions to Vegas, a basketball buddy(heh), i think he even babysat chris once(?), and someone to spar with. Now, theres nothing wrong with sharing hobbies in a friendship but the SECOND things got inconvenient and tough for Eddie to be friends with him, he decided it wasnt worth the effort and dropped him immediately.

This, in my opinion was not in solidarity to Buck, because Buck never spoke ill of Tommy or asked Eddie to unfriend him, Buck even seemed shocked that Tommy mentioned Eddie giving him the cold shoulder. It was because Eddie didnt want to put in the effort to something that was going to be awkward.

Next we have Lena, perhaps the only one to ever call Eddie out on his bullshit. Eddie took and took from her, vented to her and then when she tried to get something back from the relationship it.. well failed miserably, and she rightfully called their friendship a one way street.

We truly lost her too soon 😞 (real quick side tangent but i take huge issue with people whatabouting her in regards to Eddies fight club arc.. Lena had her shit under control PLUS, EDDIE IS A GROWN MAN WHEN ARE WE GONNA STOP BLAMING WOMEN FOR MENS OWN CHOICES DONT PISS ME OFF).

So yeah this rant was basically a very long way of saying Eddie fucking sucks a friend and needs to seriously work through some shit before I will consider him to be like able. ESPECIALLY after 8.17.

[razorblade180]

A Musical Memory

Weiss*reading*

knock knock knock

Weiss:It’s opened.

Jaune:*walks in* Hey Weiss.

Weiss:!? Jaune? *stands up* H-Hi! Are you okay? Is there a meeting going on or…

Jaune:No, it’s been pretty quiet the last couple of hours. I just haven’t gotten the chance to tell you happy birthday.

Weiss:Oh! Right, I don’t know how that slipped past me.

Jaune:Has no one told you?

Weiss:They have. Ruby did her best to make my type of coffee. It was a whole thing; I probably have to brush twice as hard to get all the sugar. Hehe, I guess I sorta put the rest of the day behind me.

Jaune:Yeah. We’ve definitely been busy one way or another. But I’m relearning the importance of taking a moment in. On that note… * pulls out gift*

Weiss:You bought me something!? Aw, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you. *takes it*

Jaune:You haven’t even opened it yet.

Weiss: Call me an optimist. We need some of that these days.

She unwrapped a small rectangular box and opened it. Inside was something she had long since forgotten; it was pendant in the shape of her family crest, but the complex sigils inside were replaced with a single music note.

Weiss:A Snow Note. This is from my first major recital. They came with albums. Jaune, how did you-

Jaune:Was walking around the market today. Plenty of people have been selling and praising things they took before leaving Atlas. My family has actually been to a few of your performances so I recognized it right away. Thought it would be a shame if it didn’t end up with someone who really appreciates-

The smallest tap on the cool metal brought his attention back to Weiss’s eyes and the tears that flowed like a river. Not even she had realized at first that she was crying until she noticed the boy’s worried expression. Her hand brushed across her face to reveal the reason for his silence. Weiss sat back down on the edge of her bed, frantically rubbing the tears away. It didn’t take long at all for Jaune to sit by her.

Weiss:I’m fine! Totally fine! Wow that… hehe, really snuck up on me! I’m sorry.

Jaune:Nothing to apologize for. If you wanna talk, I’m here for you. If that’s okay?

Weiss:It just kinda hit me how long it’s been since I’ve been on a stage; me standing front and center. Ready to sing my heart out. Don’t get wrong, there was a lot of functions and recitals that I wouldn’t greatest. My father sure planned a lot to save face. If there was one thing that was genuine though, it was the music. Hours of singing and lights before crisp air outside of a coffee shop for another well done performance.

Jaune:You were drinking coffee that young?

Weiss:Back then it was hot chocolate. Extra syrup. Wasn’t really good for the vocal cords, but Klein always made sure it made it in my cup. Siiigh *frowns* It’s ironic really. I spent so long running away, now every day I miss that frigid air; those plowed roads that made walls tall enough to duck for cover in a snowball fight. Can’t believe it’s all gone….

Jaune:….Alright. I’ve decided. I’ll help you rebuild.

Weiss:What?

Jaune:Yeah. Eventually when this is all over, people are gonna rebuild their lives as best as possible. That includes the kingdoms. Never really thought about what I should do when the fighting is over. Now I do.

Weiss:You choose to help rebuild a kingdom you’re not even from?

Jaune:Yeah! I mean you’re probably going to help Vale along with your home. It’ll be a perfect use of my time. Someone has to help plan and organize job priorities as well as task management. And I just so happen to have decades of experience. *grins*

Weiss:You- pfft, hahaha. Yeah, I suppose you do.

Jaune:*grinning* It’s a perfect use of my skills! Brick by brick. Day by day! We’ll build a better place meant for Atlas and Mantle locals! That includes a nice big stage the day it’s finally completed where you can welcome everyone back home. I’m talking spotlights and ribbons; people watching the girl that helped saved the world with her own two hands pick up the pieces, and redefine her name sing like an angel while dancing to beat. Big smiles everywhere followed by clapping as everyone thinks, “Wow, she really can do it all.”

Weiss:*blushing*Is…that what you think of me?

Jaune:…Umm, yeah. I think you’re pretty amazing. *red* A gift that keeps on giving.

Weiss:Ah, I see. I’m happy you think so highly of me. *puts pendant away*

Jaune:Not wearing it?

Weiss:I’d be beyond furious with myself if something happened to it. I want it in perfect condition, so I’ll wear it on stage when the day comes. Though if that’s the goal, I should start singing again. I’m sorely out of practice. It’s actually embarrassing. You’d also need to brush up on guitar most likely.

Jaune:Me!?

Weiss:Yes you! A grand stage gets lonely. Plus it’s also your achievement. Celebrating together would only be right. I recall your skills being pretty good all things considered.

Jaune:Is that so? Huh… didn’t realize you heard them so well through the slammed door.

Weiss:Okay, we didn’t have to bring that up! *grins* Way to kill a mood.

Jaune:Really? You’re smiling again.

Weiss:…You’re so ridiculous.

The both of them shared a light hearted smile and laugh. Any reason for tears felt forgotten. As the laughter faded, they found themselves closer than before. Not only emotionally, but physically; how long have their hands been touching?

Something told Weiss to lean closer ever so slightly, watching for a response.

Her heart started sinking when Jaune didn’t move. Heat rose to her face and she began to retreat, only to notice a sadness grow in his as she did. All it took was a subtle flinch forward by him for Weiss to take the plunge. She leaned in again, stopping at nothing until warm, anxious lips gently pressed against hers. Time itself seemed to stop for this moment, capturing it for the rest of their lives until Weiss slowly leaned back again to see his face match her. Was his hand shaking, or was it hers? Weiss had no clue, but her heart was definitely pounding. Suddenly she couldn’t look him in the eyes. Instead she stared at the hand she held.

Weiss:I…I know things are very weird and crazy and… a lot right now. There’s so much to do all the time but I really need you to know I uh, I really like who we are. What we’re trying to be as people. Having these talks about anything and everything, they make everything easy to carry. You make everything easier to carry. This doesn’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want but…I’m not going to pretend I don’t feel something wonderful.

Jaune:…Every night I spent alone, there wasn’t a moment that went by where I didn’t miss you all. That being said, every time I thought of your smile and how I probably wouldn’t see it again, the ache in my chest grew worse. Weiss, I like who we are too and our talks. I like…us.

Butterflies. That’s all she could feel as she raised her head to see the same fear in his eyes that was in her heart. Weiss’s lips quivered between smiling and crying again as her eyes watered. All the same, she leaned in again. This time his arms wrapped around her torso and her jewel while her hands cradled Jaune’s face. For the first time in a while, loneliness didn’t feel so overwhelming. How could it with someone close enough feel all of you; to hold all of you down to your soul. Both of them knew this was only a step into a direction they wanted and not the solution. Still, this moment…

It was a gift Weiss was dead set on keeping. And who knows? Maybe one day, it’ll be her first love song.

[chimckenns]

DAVVEDEEEEYYYYYYYFY

KNSIFJDMGH

It’s almost time!!!

Have fun and dun work too hard out there :P

Cant wait for u to come back and tell me bout everything that happened

I wonder what magic Olympics are liek anyway

Or whatever the human equivalent is

Anyway

Love uuuuuuuuuuuu!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

~~~

It’s staaarrrttteeeedddddddddddd (probs)

I bet u look hawt in that uniform rn heh

Babe’s here and we’re hanging out

Bet u wish u were here w us

We having the best time wo u

Jk

Miss u already ❤️

~~~

I wonder wat ur doing now

Either way i know ur doing amazing ❤️

I love it when u protect everyone

~~~

Ik u said not to make dinner but imma try anyway cuz u deserve it after the gig today

Dw it’ll be edible

Probs

❤️ loooovvveeee uuuuuuu

~~~

Davey?

R u there?

What’s going on?

~~~

Call me back

Please

What happened

Are u ok

Davey

~~~

Im getting really worried

Please

At least read my texts

Just let me know you’re alive

Please

Davey

~~~

I’m heading over w babe

Please be ok

Please

~~~

I love you

~~~

I still haven’t shown u my new minecraft farm

U said u wanted to see it

Come back

Be alive

Please davey

~~~

I miss u

Why are u so far away

Please be ok

Davey

~~~

Please.

~~~

I love u so much

I know ur in there

Stupid fkn magic barrier

~~~

At least answer the phone

I don’t think I can wait any longer

I need to know ur there

~~~

I think I heard ur growls

R u a wolf rn

At least I think it was u

Idk anymore

~~~

I love you, Davey

Did I tell u that this morning

I hope I did

I really do love u

Please be ok

~~~

I should have hugged you tighter this morning

I’m sorry

Come back so I can make up for it

Please

~~~

Don’t leave me

~~~

I love you