#finally getting back into the swing of actually answering peoples asks :)

[noosayog]

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 

“True. But he is an idiot.” 

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?” 

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Why not?” 

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 

“So, found a guy to take you out?” 

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 

“‘Samu…” 

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on. 

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 

“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 

“I’ll walk with ya.” 

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 

“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 

“Who?” you mumble. 

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 

“I don’t know… I just…” 

“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. 

Osamu raises his brows. 

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 

“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 

“Huh?” 

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 

“Osamu…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 

His question goes unanswered. 

– 

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 

It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter. 

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-” 

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 

“Hey, ‘Samu!” 

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 

“You just…?” he prompts. 

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 

“Missed you,” you whisper. 

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 

“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 

He stops stroking your hair. 

“What, ya don’t like it?” 

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 

You nod shyly. 

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 

“I want it.” 

“Alright. C’mere then.” 

You oblige. 

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 

You nod. 

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

[dadsbongos]

studying birds and bees

3.5 k words / warnings - penetrative sex (i imagined a vag but there's no anatomy listed), riding

summary - viktor, alone and glum, is not comforted by the company of a fellow scientist at a hextech exhibition party. not until you mention taking him home, at least.

Gold drenches each wall in streamers and plates. Curtains shimmer overhead. Silver platters dazzle each passing caterer’s hand -- specialties half the size of his palm gleam fresh and dewy. Clear coupes and flutes pass, full of wheat sparkles. Sour, no doubt, but sure enough to waste a man as thin as he.

So surely, in fact, that Viktor actively avoids drinking anything besides water. He’s a common lightweight, never finding time to flex tolerance between working hours, and he distrusts anything he can’t see through. Anything that has a smell, whether it’s sour or sweet, he staunchly avoids.

Similarly, he refuses to follow conversation: people unreasonable or unfortunate in nature that approach are limited to singular, curt responses. Thankfully he’s smart enough, well-regarded enough, famed enough that it has no bearing on his life outside these miserable hours. Hours he’s sure are better spent down in the lab. Nose buried into his work: he’s most comfortable that way, living as he always has.

Viktor believes his hate is layered beneath several swathes of cool. An expression he believes to be neutral -passive, if anything- is actually a scathing scowl that has many guests rushing off to inform Jayce of his unapproachable partner.

He hears that a lot.

He’s impersonal, strange, distant.

He likes living that way. It makes working easier.

Jayce is everything he is not: warm, talkative, generous. His face is on porcelain mugs.

Viktor would know that, he got one for a generous discount of Free. It’s sitting in his sink at this very moment, coffee dribbling the rim and baked into the bottom. It could risk a stain if he doesn’t wash it before bed tonight.

But then, who knows? Perhaps he’ll be too exhausted from standing all night and straining a smile whenever he makes eye contact with Jayce. At some point, the muscles in his cheeks become too sore, so he begins ignoring the man wrapped around Mel Medarda.

If he’s lucky, Jayce will not try waltzing over to ask for the third time if Viktor is enjoying the night.

And if he’s unlucky, as he suspects he is, then someone else is rapidly crossing the shiny tiles toward him. Two glasses, one in either hand, glinting beneath ball lights. Shoe heels clicking closer and closer until it’s pounding right beside his ear.

“Never saw anything like this back home, did we?”

You say it so familiarly, as if you know anything about Viktor’s home. Maybe you do. But not like that.

“No,” he answers politely enough despite pointedly ignoring the glass you offer him, “we didn’t.”

“I got a real drink for you,” you’re not content to be ignored though, “I noticed you’ve been nursing an empty cup.”

“We didn’t have anything like that in the undercity, I don’t know if I trust it.”

“Then trust me,” you sip from your glass, leaving a dewy smear around the lip, “It’s not bad. Sharp, but not bad.”

Viktor leans more weight onto his cane as he leans, grabbing the glass from you before slanting back, “Sharp, but not bad.”

You swing another sip, watching from the corner of your eye as his arm remains stationary -though you don’t comment, “You seemed incredibly lonely.”

“So you thought it’d be generous to bother me.”

“Practically,” you clink glasses, “You strike me as a man who doesn’t get bothered often. Someone should keep you upright.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” not even he can tell whether he means that genuinely or not. Maybe he does, but only as long as it isn’t you providing the company. His eyes flutter and he imagines: if it were Sky, would he be satisfied?

Jayce?

Mel?

Heimerdinger?

His long disgraced mentor?

“You finally get to leave the lab and you insist on spending the time alone, I wonder why…” you say with enough wisp in your tone to excuse it as a non-question.

Viktor puffs a laugh, weighed down by annoyance -- do you have no eyes? Are you ignorant to your surroundings? Scratch that, his laugh was a total scoff by the time it breached his throat.

“I’m not interested in people,” Viktor briefs, then sighs, “Especially the types that feel the need to keep me company- like I’m some sad thing on the side of the road.”

“You don’t want to feel pitied?”

“Who would?”

“People who’ve never experienced harshities.”

Viktor shakes his head, swirling the glass flute and watching the bubbles twirl, “I don’t care for any of this conversation.”

“Then what conversation would you care for?”

“Why are you here?” he forces himself to remain quiet, afraid that raising his voice could attract attention.

“Like I said, you looked lonely,” you turn onto your shoulder, budding it against the wall to solely stare at Viktor, “I wanted to find solidarity between two Zaunites.”

He shoots you a wary look at that; nobody in Piltover refers to the undercity by that name -it would sling a series of implications the council hasn’t even begun to tackle. Hearing it here, no less, strikes him unpleasantly -- are you being bold or defiant? Is this earnest support of underground independence or are you mocking the Piltover riches that fund his life’s work?

Either way, you’re foolish to declare yourselves Zaunites in the back of this room.

“Sky is also from the undercity,” Viktor jerks his chin toward her, as if you can’t spot her defined curls and moonglasses from where you are.

“I’m not interested in Sky, lovely as she is,” you shrug, “I’m interested in you. I was hoping to see the brain let loose.”

“I don’t get loose.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“So, you’ll die having never gotten ‘loose’.”

“I’ll die having not done lots of things, but I will have been part of Hextech’s creation.”

“That’s all you want to do before you die?”

“I want to give Hextech to the people, anything other than that…” he shakes his head and taps a blunt nail against the glass stem, “I will die in any case.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Dying?”

“Yourself dying.”

“It will happen eventually,” Viktor shrugs, “Probably sooner than others. Heimerdinger says the brighter sparks, they go the fastest,” he lets the sentiment sit a moment before awkwardly flipping it back unto you, “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t think you should ever die.”

“Flattering, but unlikely.”

“Then why do you work like you’ll live forever?” when the only response you get is a single thick eyebrow raise you continue, “Really, you work like a man without time, as if you could just come back into the world after locking yourself away for years. You worry only about the science behind Hextech rather than the humanity in you that wanted you to create it.”

Softly, you cup his shoulder. Regardless of how bold the gesture is he doesn’t find himself wanting you gone.

Perhaps because of the gentle furrow in your brows, your pout accentuated with reddish stains.

“Why don’t you enjoy yourself, Viktor?”

Viktor has so much he needs to do, but nothing as pressing as easing you. He holds his hand over yours, kindly massaging the flat plain across the back of your hand, “I enjoy myself plenty.”

“Alone?” your gaze flicks toward his hand with no subtly, “With only your own hands?”

“Where did that come from?” he gasps, squeezing your hand tighter in shock, eyes widening with stained cheeks.

“Nowhere, I suppose. Just curiosity,” you shrug coyly, about as innocent as your prior question wasn’t, “You have no date, after all. And I never see your arm occupied with anything besides your cane.”

“I’m content with my work.”

Unabashedly, almost sneered, you speak without grace for the first time all night, “What a sad way to live.”

“Excuse you?” Viktor scoffs, “Do you not work for the same goal?”

“I’m a person, too.”

“I’m not?”

“Not as you are,” you shake your head, eyes now downtrodden as you finish off the glass in your hand, swallowing without cringe before saying, “If you’re so dedicated to living for Hextech instead of yourself, then I’ll take your drink for you. My only plan tomorrow was to nurse a hangover anyway.”

Viktor instinctually swivels so his drink is out of reach, which is something he cannot explain. Why does he suddenly want it? Why does he suddenly care?

But, more importantly, when did he decide he should never want it- decide that he should never care?

Was it before or after clawing his way into Piltover under Heimerdinger’s wing? Was it before or after Jayce blew up an apartment? Was it before or after Jayce began leaving his side to become a political head?

Or was it everything -- slowly one thing upon the other before he realized he had a carefully alphabetized and numerically categorized library of all the reasons he shouldn’t and couldn’t abandon Hextech. Maybe it’s not advancement now, but the security of a purpose. A goal he’ll die to achieve, and at the rate he’s burning: die before achieving.

Perhaps, one night as a man rather than a scientist wouldn’t hurt?

Viktor gags the champagne in a single swing, startling you to pat his back as he hisses and coughs.

“Viktor! What’re you doing?!” you whisper with all the venom of an outraged mother.

“I’m living,” he shoulders you off and straightens out. Chin jutting with all the dignity of a man who didn’t choke down alcohol at an expensive gala.

“Is that so?” you giggle, silently expecting him to back away, “And does life have you for the whole night? Or just until the party’s over?”

Viktor looks down at his empty glass, then toward yours. Then to the lipstick marring the rim -- it’s smudged at the corner of your lip. It’s darker than the more neutral shade you swipe on before venturing into the lab. Suddenly, his belly is warming and his head is fuzzy -for once nothing but pleasant thoughts consume him. He smiles to one side and clicks your empty flutes,

“I have no plans tomorrow, either, wouldn’t you know?”

“For once.”

Waving away the bitter thought, Viktor leans just that touch closer that sends your sweet perfume up his nose. He feels like maybe he should get another drink and step a little more into your space, if you’ll let him.

“Let’s make the night of it, then?” he’s the one bravely going forward, certain you’ll trail after as he paves toward the bar, “You sounded eager to get me into the world, now what?”

“Oh, Viktor,” you coo, “Don’t ask things like that.”

“Why not?” he’s a little cocky now with some booze in his empty belly, he forgets how unashamed the new assistant is, “Second thoughts?”

“No, I’ll just tell you that I really wanted you in my bed tonight.”

You’re grinning- he’s blushing now, a little surprised and a little delighted. But you just smile that devilish way that always has him distracted.

A new assistant hadn’t been Victor’s idea, and if Jayce had bothered conferring with Viktor at all then you especially wouldn’t have been the hired candidate.

“Or did you intend to die a virgin, as well?” you lull into the shell of his ear, soft and warm lips just grazing clammy flesh.

“You’re forward.”

“Am I? Is it too much?” if not for the slightest concerned twitch in your brow, he could’ve thought maybe you were just laying another harsh tease.

“I find it incredibly attractive,” finally, finally Viktor says the terrible thing out loud. Vivid and bright and all things he is not -temptress! he declared when you two first met.

***

Viktor paused, eyes widening from the doorway and fingers tightening around his cane, “Who are you?”

“The assistant,” you smiled in a way he was sure you meant as warm and welcoming, “Viktor, right?”

How he stared at you, however, told you that maybe you’d bared teeth too sharp. So your lips shut, hands clasping and shoulders straightening. Your name but a whisper into the lab, bouncing off each wall before awkwardly cluttering to the ground. Melting in chunks into the grouts.

“I have an assistant,” he murmured, sights scattered across the area, “Where is Sky?”

“Her day off,” then you groaned, baffled by how confused such a famed brain could get over a truly simple concept, “I can show you my qualifications, if you need to be convinced?”

Your frustration seemed to snap him straight, his jaw unhinged and he flubbed for a nice way to retract himself, “No. No. I’m…” he cleared his throat and glanced away pointedly, “You’re my assistant for today, then?”

“Of course.”

“Ah, perfect,” it was not, in fact, perfect. Viktor dreaded your stay; lingering over his shoulder and invading between his eyes with your perfume. You’re cursed with curves and full lips and fluttery eyelashes.

A temptress!

***

A temptress without trying- or you are trying and you play dirty. Either way…

“I want to see more of your shamelessness, show me how much I’ve missed not living,” he means the last part as a jest, but it seems to make you happy.

…he wants you so bad it makes his gut ache.

You gnaw your bottom lip and nod, “Shall we leave now then? I can certainly make you a drink at home you’d like more anyway.”

Propriety flies out the window.

If Jayce wanted Viktor to enjoy himself, then he damn well would! And he wouldn’t bother with acknowledgments or goodbyes or gratitude, not when your hand tangles with his. Fingers locking with all the familiarity of seasoned lovers, you even add the tiniest swing though sure to not jostle his balance. Peachy streetlights cast the most flattering flushed glow upon you, stray hairs catching gold beneath the beaming bulb. Shining in stressed loops around your head, not like a halo but just… you. Graceful in all the misaligned strands and smudged makeup.

Whether you’re tethered off in a clinical coat with a clipboard perched on one hip or strapped to the finest in this little black number -something you could never pray to pull out of a dump in Zaun.

“I think…” you muse while sliding the front door open, your home smells like vanilla and the space is so precisely spotless he’s not sure you even live here, “I’ll need some help out of this dress.”

Your bedroom is worse off -or would it be better?- not a single article of clothing on the floor, no crumpled notes or mugs of shame decorating the nightstand. Eerily empty until, then, he notices the faint orange flame twinkling over his shoulder.

“Did you leave that burning while you were gone?” he’s too focused on the fire risk of it all that he doesn’t notice you’re stretching out over the bed.

“I figured I wouldn’t be out long,” you prop your head on a fist, the other hand perking onto your cocked hip, “Whether or not I’d be alone when I returned was the only mystery.”

He swivels in place, a humored so that’s why it’s so clean! dying on his lips as soon as he sees you splayed out. Stuttering back and clutching his chest as if scandalized -- as if he didn’t come here for the exact kind of modeling you’re doing. Viktor clears his throat, heat swelling up from the comfortable bubbly in his gut and all up toward his reddening forehead. Brows shooting upward.

Silken sheets caressing your bare skin. Moonlight carding through the askew curtains and layering you in a thin pale gleam. Your hair cascaded down your forearm. And that rouge smudge at the bottom corner of your lip. Tempting.

Viktor lets his cane drift back until it’s slanted against the wall, kneeling onto your bed. Hands trembling as if he’ll sink through and wake in his own sheets. But the feeling of his cold dress buttons beneath his fingertips is real enough; peeling layers from sinewy limbs feels real enough. Nails scrape wrists and hips as he removes his vest, and shirt, and long pants.

“Can I… “ he pauses, swallows, and assesses the curiosity in your eyes. Then, before finishing the question, surges forward -one hand gluing to either of your cheeks, tenderly tilting your face to press his lips to yours. Brows knotting toward the center of his face and cheeks flaming with embarrassment. His lips are incredibly soft, though, and they slot smoothly against yours like gears rolling into one fluid motion. You wonder how familiar that is to him.

Sliding up onto your knees, you tangle your fingers between his and pry his hands from your face. Squeezing him affectionately before using the leverage to lay him onto his back slowly so as to not break the kiss.

Straddling Viktor with both hands still wrapped together, at least until you slip one of his hands onto your chest and the other your thigh. He squeezes, not not affectionately just with something a little… murkier. Hips jump up toward yours -- he sighs, frustrated, and takes it out on your nipple -rolling the bud around his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. Cheeks hollowing around, tongue searing up, bright gold eyes peek over wetly.

You arch your back into his face, lifting off his lap with the encouragement of his spare hand shifting toward your ass. Something soft and thick twitches between your thighs, ripping an earnest gasp from you. Viktor snorts, you feel him smiling into your chest.

not expecting that?

You yank his hair at the base, curling a whine through his throat.

shut up!

Leaky and hot red at the tip, Viktor only thickens toward the base. Maybe just longer than your palm, but certainly fatter than you can hold in one palm. Reaching down just to rut his tip along your slit, both of you huffy messes as you drool down his cock.

Viktor sags back, glaring at you with his ruddy lips -- juicy with raw saliva.

“Enough teasing,” he grunts, trying to force you down with his grip on your hip, “You bring me here just to watch me squirm?”

“I do enjoy the sight,” you mewl softly, swirling his tip around your hole, “Don’t you?”

His head swivels in a very lumpy circle, caught between nodding and shaking before he attempts pushing you down again, “Not as much as I want to be inside you.”

You’re prepared to tease more when he abruptly snaps up while shoving your hips low. His whole face twinges at the sudden movement in his thighs but it’s soon overshadowed by the complete, all-melting mellow of having his cock sucked into velveteen walls. Head thrown back and chestnut hair splintering across the dark headboard -- he grins as you loudly gasp and scramble to grasp his shoulders for purchase.

“Ah- Vik- !” you hiccup, scratching into his shoulder blades.

He hisses, lips curled with utter bliss and eyes fluttering shut, “Feels much better.”

Now both of his hands circle your waist, coaxing your movement with firmly pressed fingers. You pray he leaves bruises.

Viktor chases your warmth every time you squelch off, the most he can manage without an uncomfortable cringe is teeny jumps focused in the pelvis but it’s more than desperate enough. Any concern he could have of you finding his display anything except arousing is tossed out the window as your pace hastens. Leisurely drags rapidly devolving to full bounces, little splatters of your wetness painting up his abdomen. And he fucking thrives on it: sticky and lewd and thick, hearing each thrust hammers him closer to the purest release he’s had in years.

He can’t even pluck grains of thought to discern when the last time he felt so good was- not when you’re canting and wailing.

On a particular grind, you could feel his dick slam into some open-wire spot inside you. White neon sparks crackling so bright your whole body snaps above Viktor while he watches starry-eyed. Bopping that spot impetuously, clinging to frayed energy if it means watching you split apart again. You moan -broken vowels and breathy vik- vi- uh, viktor! vik- vik- vvvv- and shudder, clutching him like you’ll fly off without such an iron hold. Openly tearing up inside you before his eyes are wetting too, and webs of spend sprawl into you.

Viktor greedily snatches you by the neck and wrings you forward, lips spreading until he can lick inside your mouth. Moaning shamelessly into you as he fucks the last of his orgasm out on you.

Left humming, content and pliant, you and Viktor break the sloppy kiss to play more politely. You peck the corner of his mouth, wiping the dazzling threads of spit tying you two by the mouths. Viktor blinks up at you in a haze, smiling aimlessly.

“Happy?” you unceremoniously roll off the man, grimacing as he and everything he buried slide out onto your thigh.

“Very,” he remains slick back on the headboard, moist skin skidding against wood as he slides onto the mattress.

You twist an arm over his waist, chin piking his ribs as you give the most outrageously sweet, “I’m sure you can stay the night, then?”

And as Viktor’s discovered, trying to deny your power over him is useless. Why not indulge just a little more?

“Maybe even for breakfast,” he muses.

tagging those who asked/seemed interested :3

@lpvmal + @im-just-a-simp-le-whore + @littleenglishfangirl + @fortheharbingers + @duffycrow + @zemosbunny + @urmommt + @crocwork-clockodile + @petti-fry + @sparklygreentrash + @marshy-moo

[itneverendshere]

rafe finding out you’re back to not taking care of yourself, especially when he’s coming back from rehab. you’re going back to full swing less than bare minimum to take care of yourself

thank you for the request!!🩷 hope you enjoy!!

the way you hold me is actually what's holy - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe had this whole plan in his head.

He was finally back in town after spending the better part of six months at that damn rehab center. Finally clean, head clear, body feeling... normal, or at least as normal as it got after kicking all the shit he put himself through. The whole time he was there, he thought about you. How you visited him every week no matter how exhausted you were from your shifts now that you’d been promoted. How you took extra days off work for him, even when you couldn’t afford to miss them. How you always brought him a home-cooked meal because you knew he hated everything they gave him at that place.

And he promised himself that when he came back, things were gonna change. He was gonna change—for you.

It was all worked out. He’d show up at your sister’s place a day before he was supposed to leave, surprise you, maybe bring some flowers. Then he’d ask you to move in with him. He thought about it day and night. He was tired of that house. Of having his dad constantly hovering over his shoulder, even when he was miles away. He was gonna get a new place, not one of those temporary rentals where he barely unpacked his bags. A real place, a clean slate.

A new start. For the both of you.

But when Monica opened the door, his plans went out the window.

“Rafe?” Her eyes widened for a second before her face broke into the widest smile he’d seen in months. And before he could even get a word out, she threw her arms around him, hugging the living hell out of him like it had been years instead of just months. "Oh my God, you’re back! You look... you look amazing."

The way Monica squeezed him, how genuinely happy she was to see him—it hit him harder than he expected. Rehab was tough. Really tough. And he didn’t expect people to be waiting for him on the other side, not like this.

"I’m back," he muttered, hugging her tightly as he let himself breathe for the first time since stepping out of that damn place. Monica had been there for him too, just like you had. She’d kept you company sometimes when you went on those long drives to visit him. He didn’t deserve people like you two in his life, but he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

Monica pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders, her eyes sparkling with this genuine pride. "You look healthy. I mean, really healthy. It’s good to see you like this."

Rafe smiled, a little bashful. "Yeah. Feels good to be back. I’ve been, you know, working on shit."

She smiled back, her eyes glinting with emotion. "I’m so proud of you, Rafe."

His throat tightened at that. He wasn’t used to hearing those words, you were the only one constantly reminding him of it. Everyone else said it with some hidden judgment or expectation behind them, like they were waiting for him to screw up again. But Monica meant it. She always did. She was your sister, after all.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling more awkward than he should’ve, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m trying, you know?”

She squeezed his shoulder before stepping back, "You here to see her?"

"Yeah. I, uh... wanted to surprise her.”

The smile on Monica’s face dropped just a little, and Rafe’s stomach sank instantly. He knew that look. It was the same one you got when you didn’t want to tell him something that might hurt him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, even though he already had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Monica sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before she leaned back against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "She’s at work right now."

“At this hour? I thought she—”

“She’s been working extra shifts. A lot of them.”

Rafe frowned. You already worked so much as it was. Extra shifts? Why? He thought things had been better for you since he left, that you had more time to focus on yourself, maybe even catch up on the sleep you’d missed while dealing with his mess. “Why? She didn’t tell me she was working more.”

Monica sighed again—something that made Rafe know he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear, “She didn’t want you to worry. She didn’t want anyone to worry, actually.”

“Monica, what’s going on?” The anxiety clawed at his chest. He hated not knowing. Hated being in the dark, especially when it came to you.

Her eyes softened, and she took a step closer, like she could feel the panic building inside him. “Listen... she’s not taking care of herself. She’s been putting everyone first—Milo, her job, you—but she’s not eating enough, she’s not sleeping enough. She’s been burning herself out.”

Rafe’s heart sank. You hadn’t said a word about it to him. Not during any of his calls or visits. You were always smiling, always saying things were fine. But they weren’t.

He should’ve known. Should’ve seen the signs.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She didn’t tell anyone. That’s the thing. You know she doesn’t ask for help. She just... takes it all on, even when it’s too much. And with you gone... I think she felt like she had to be strong for you, like she couldn’t let herself fall apart because you were going through so much.”

You had been falling apart, and he didn’t even see it. He’d been so focused on getting himself together that he didn’t notice you slipping. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I should’ve done something.”

“No.” Her voice was firm, and she reached out to touch his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This isn’t on you. You were getting better, doing what you had to do. She loves you, okay? She wasn’t going to let you worry about her while you were in rehab. She’s always been like this. Always putting herself last. It’s not about you. It’s about her not knowing how to let people take care of her.”

Rafe’s chest tightened, his mind flashing through all the times you’d pushed aside your own needs in the past, all the times you’d taken care of him instead of yourself. He thought that was never going to happen again. He’d been so blind to it, thinking you were the strong one. But you were just as fragile as he was, maybe more, because you didn’t let anyone see it.

"She’s working until midnight tonight. You should go talk to her. But... don’t be mad, okay? She’s doing the best she can."

Rafe nodded, his throat tight. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t angry at you. He was angry at himself for not seeing it sooner. For letting you drown under the weight of everything while he was too busy figuring out his own shit. “I’ll go see her.”

Your sister gave him a small smile, a little sad but understanding. “She needs you. Just... be there for her, okay? And don’t guilt-trip her about this. She already feels like she’s failing everyone.”

“I won’t,” he promised, even though the guilt was eating him alive inside. He had to be strong for you now, the way you’d been strong for him all this time. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix this.

With that, he left, heading to his truck, his mind spinning the whole way to The Country Club. He didn’t know how he was going to make this right, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you keep doing this. He wasn’t going to let you fall apart, not when he was here now, ready to carry some of the weight for you.

The country club was quieter than usual when he pulled into the parking lot, but the bar inside was still buzzing with its usual evening crowd. He walked in, scanning the room, his eyes instantly finding you behind the bar.

You were moving like a pro, handing off drinks, shaking up cocktails, giving out that charming smile you always had for the customers. But now that he knew what was going on, it was easy to see how tired you looked. The dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped just a little between orders. You were running on empty, and it broke his heart.

Before he could even think of what he was going to say to you, your eyes found his across the room. For a second, everything seemed to stop. Your eyes widened in surprise, and your breath hitched, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there. He felt his heart skip a beat, and then—

“Rafe?” you breathed out, your voice soft and disbelieving. Without another thought, you bolted from behind the bar, not even bothering to tell anyone to cover your shift.

He barely had time to react before you practically jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms circled his neck. You clung to him like a koala bear, and Rafe caught you, holding you tight against him, his heart racing as he buried his face in your neck.

“Holy shit, you’re really here,” you mumbled into his neck, your voice strained with emotion. You clutched him tighter, like if you let go, he’d disappear. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” He explained, his voice muffled against your skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, even with all the heavy stuff on his mind. Just having you in his arms again felt like a weight lifting off his chest.

You leaned back just enough to look at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears as you cupped his face in your hands. “God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too baby.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his hands gripping your waist. “I’m back, okay? I’m here.”

A small laugh bubbled out of you, even though there were tears running down your cheeks now. “I can’t believe I’m crying at work. I never cry at work.”

Rafe grinned, brushing your tears away with his thumb. “I’ll let it slide this time.”

You laughed again, but then you seemed to remember where you were. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, where a few customers were still waiting for their drinks. “Shit, I— I’m working."

He set you down gently, his hands still resting on your waist as you adjusted your shirt and ran a hand through your hair, clearly flustered but trying to get back into work mode. “I should get back to it.”

“Take a break,” He pleaded, his hand moving to grab yours. “Please.”

You blinked up at him, the tiredness you’d been hiding for months finally showing through. For once, you didn’t argue. You just nodded, squeezing his hand before leading him to quieter corner of the bar where you could talk without interruption. Once you sat down across from him, you took a deep breath, like you already knew something was coming.

“What did Monica say?”

Rafe paused, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on the table as he tried to figure out how to start. “She told me you’ve been overworking yourself. Taking extra shifts, not sleeping, not eating enough.”

You sighed heavily, leaning back in your seat and rubbing a hand over your face. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rafe asked. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he needed to understand. “You’ve been doing all this, and you didn’t say a word to me.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers twisting together in your lap. “You were in rehab, baby. You were going through so much, and I didn’t want to add to your stress. I didn’t want you to feel guilty about me.”

“You don’t have to carry everything on your own,” Rafe said softly, his chest tightening. “I know I was a mess before, but I’m better now. I want to be there for you the way you were there for me. The way we used to be before.”

You shook your head, “I just... I didn’t know how to stop. You needed me, Monica needed me... work needed me. And I thought, if I just kept going, I could handle it.”

He reached across the table, grabbing your hands and holding them tight. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t try to hide them. You let them fall, your grip tightening on his hands like you were afraid to let go. “I don’t know how to let go again.”

“Let me help,” Rafe whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve always been there for me, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. You don’t have to keep doing this by yourself.”

You nodded slowly, wiping at your tears with a shaky hand. “I just... I didn’t want to be a burden.”

The conversation gave him a sense of Deja Vu. You two had been here before.

“You’re not a burden,” Rafe said firmly, “You’ve never been a burden. You’re everything to me. And I don’t want you burning yourself out like this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You took a deep, shaky breath, your eyes meeting his again. “I just missed you so much. And I didn’t know how to handle everything without you.”

Rafe’s heart clenched at the honesty in your voice, and he reached out, pulling you into his arms again. “I’m here now. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to keep doing this alone.”

You clung to him, your face buried in his chest as you finally let yourself relax in his arms. And he held you determined to make things right. He was going to be there for you, the way you had always been there for him.

It felt so good to be in his arms, to finally let yourself feel vulnerable after holding everything together for so long. You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. You could see how much he cared, and it made you feel safe, but also exposed, it’s like you’d momentarily forgotten how good it felt to be so close to him.

As if reading your mind, he brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, “I don’t want to see you like this anymore,” he said quietly. “You deserve more.” You opened your mouth to retort, but the words stuck in your throat as he continued, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future while I was gone, and I know things have been tough for both of us, but I want to make them better. I want to be better. I want you to be better.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart pounding as you searched his eyes for answers.

He took a deep breath, his expression serious but tender. “I want you to move in with me.”

All you could do was blink in surprise.

“Rafe...” Move in? After everything? After months of barely surviving and keeping your head above water, now he was asking you to dive into something that felt... big. Scary even. You blinked again, and the look on his face was so serious, like he’d thought about this a hundred times over. Maybe he had. But you hadn’t. You’d been too wrapped up in keeping things from crashing to even imagine a future like that, let alone moving in with him. “Are you serious?” 

Rafe’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, “Yeah. I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to be apart anymore. I don’t want you running yourself into the ground, and I sure as hell don’t want you dealing with everything alone. I’m here now. I want us to have a fresh start, together.”

Your heart clenched. This was the Rafe you’d always believed in, the one you saw past all the shit he went through. And it was everything you wanted—more than you’d let yourself hope for. But then the doubt crept in. What if it was too much, too soon? What if things went wrong?

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the way your fingers tangled together, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t even know if I’m ready. I mean, everything’s been so... I don’t know, chaotic lately. I can barely keep my own life together.”

He let out a soft sigh, leaning closer. “I get that. I do. But that’s why I’m asking. We don’t have to do it all at once. We can take it slow. I just... I don’t want you to feel like you’re in this alone anymore. I need you with me, and I think you need me too.”

You did need him.

You’d missed him so much it ached, but you were terrified of leaning on him again, of letting yourself fall into something that might not last. But then again, wasn’t that what love was about? Taking chances, even when everything felt uncertain?

You swallowed hard, lifting your eyes to meet his. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But we take it slow, alright? I don’t want to mess this up.”

Rafe smiled, that slow, crooked grin that always made you fall deeper in love. “Slow is good. As long as we’re doing it together.” He tilted his head, watching you closely. He always seemed to know when you were lost in thought. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice was soft, patient, like he wasn’t in a rush for an answer.

You gave a half-smile, shaking your head slightly. “I just... it’s a lot, you know? If I start freaking out, you have to promise not to take it personally.”

He chuckled, the sound so familiar it almost made you cry all over again, “Deal. And if I start freaking out, you’ve gotta do the same.”

You smiled, finally feeling the tightness in your chest ease. Maybe this could work. Maybe the two of you could find your way back to each other. You believed him wholeheartedly. It wasn’t just the words; it was the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t just making promises he couldn’t keep anymore. He was standing in front of you, offering something real, something he was willing to put in the work for.

Rafe’s gaze softened, his lips quirking into a small smile as he cupped your cheek. "I know we say this all the time, but I love you," he said, like it was second nature, like he was reminding you of something you both already knew, something solid and familiar. There wasn’t any grand declaration because it didn’t need to be—it was the quiet kind of love that had been there all along.

You leaned into his touch. “I love you too.” The words came so easily, as natural as breathing, because they were always there, hanging between the two of you, even on the worst days.

His thumb stroked your skin his eyes never leaving yours. "We’ll figure it out," he whispered like he wasn’t just saying it for you, but for himself too. "We always do."

You nodded, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small, tired smile. “Yeah, we do.”

[sinofwriting]

Present - Pierre Gasly

Words: 681 Summary: Pierre has some thoughts about her buying herself a necklace.

Masterlist | Support Me!

She claps her hands together as she looks at her phone. The device perfectly angled to capture her, the kitchen counter where an unopened box was, and Pierre who was lounging on the couch answering some emails.

“So, in honor of hitting two hundred and fifty thousand followers and my birthday happening in a few weeks, I decided to get myself a present.” Her eyes are alight with excitement and she bounces a bit, fingers itching to open the box. Meanwhile, Pierre’s head jerks up, eyes wide as he stares at his girlfriend.

“I was a little nervous about getting this.” She starts to say as her fingers open the box. “But y’know it’s like a combined gift for myself and I’ve been really good at not touching my savings for the past few months, so I didn’t feel too bad about dipping in.”

Pierre makes a strangled sound.

Lifting her present out of the box, she presents it to the camera before opening the box. “Isn't it gorgeous?” She moves it a bit closer before continuing to talk.

“This from Cartier, it’s the Galanterie de Cartier necklace, which is nearly thirty thousand dollars and this is only my second time seeing it in person and I’m just even more in love with it. I’ve been looking at this necklace for a few years now and while I love my pink Les Berlingots de Cartier necklace.” As she says it, she gestures to the necklace she’s currently wearing. “It was time to give it a nice little sibling in the Cartier family.”

“Mon bébé,” Pierre starts, finally able to speak. “You didn’t actually buy that did you?”

She turns to face him with a confused look. “Yeah, I did.”

“With your money?”

“Yeah, with my money.”

He covers his face for a second. “Baby, I leave my card for you all the time to get things for yourself. You should have used my card, it's what it’s meant for.”

“I didn’t need to, it was a gift for myself.”

“Your gift for yourself, is something I’m supposed to pay for.” He argues, nearly pouting. “I was also going to buy that for you for your birthday. I was planning on going to the store tomorrow.”

Her face softens at his admission. While her buying it had been a present to herself, she also knew it would rile her boyfriend up and she didn’t often share things like this with her fans as they were more there for her talking about books, but she had thought it’d be a fun little thing to film, to let his and her fans see.

“You knew I wanted this?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve shown me pictures before and talked about it. I know you also like the 1895 necklace that Cartier does, but not just any 1895 necklace, only the one from that collection. You want that birthstone bracelet from Tiffany’s and a large collection of collectors edition books when we finally have a house and you can have your own library and reading place. I know everything you want.”

Her heart melts at his words. Pierre was sweeter than most people gave him credit for and he often showed that side of himself to her, but she had no idea how much he paid attention to things she wanted.

“C’mere.” She murmurs, setting her necklace on the counter, arms outstretched.

He easily swings his body over the back of the couch and grabs at her hips as soon as she’s in arms reach before kissing her.

“Is this close enough for you?” He asks when they break away to breathe.

Her teeth find her bottom lip as she shakes her head slowly. “I think you can get closer.”

Pierre smirks at the response, capturing her lips in another kiss as he moves one of his legs between hers. “How about you stop recording for tiktok and we record something else?”

A laugh leaves her at his words, but she’s already reaching for her phone. “Only if I get to be on top.”

“Deal.”

[lustlovehart]

Oh wow, the Modern! Monster! TWST AU is so good <3 Now I’m imagining how it would go down with the other dorms.

Influencer!Reader heading to the savanna to investigate rumours about an ancient cursed tomb. Exploring through the vast chambers of the tomb, they come across an elaborate sarcophagus. “I bet there’s hidden treasure inside.” Reader tries to open it to no avail. It’s too heavy. Kicks the lid half out of a genuine attempt to get it to budge and half out of frustration. The good news: it actually worked this time. The bad news: the lid didn’t so much budge from Reader’s kick as it did fly open through the actions of the occupant of said sarcophagus. Reader is now face to face with a pissed off mummy, glaring daggers at having his rest disturbed. Reader, with a smile frozen on their face, slowly backs away…and makes a run for it. Scooby-Doo esque chase scene ensues.

Chat: “Who’s the actor? Looks uncannily similar to depictions of that one dead prince I saw in history class. Kudos for research!”

Ahh, I love this interpretation for Savanclaws's version ( ˘ ³˘)♥ Since so many people enjoyed the Modern Monster!Twst, I do plan on writing the rest of them if people are still interested!

Cw: Mostly just Leona x Influencer!Reader, but the others are mentioned, Murder, Reader low-key flirts with Leona even though he just killed their friend

Maybe you go in there having set up a fake tomb, one with your friend stashed inside so you can coincidentally open the cover and have them pop out. When you enter and set your sights on the coffin, it looks a little different from when you last saw it... The gold trimming is more extravagant, and it looks a lot more expensive... Whatever, if anything, your friend must've been really set on making it as realistic as possible; it'll make the video even more believable!

Then, when you get to actually opening the damn thing... It won't open. You even put down the camera to get a better grip on the cover. No matter what you do it just won't budge...!

"Gosh... This is embarrassing..." You swore it was way easier to open this thing before. Then, you finally kick it! and nothing happens... "Damn it, what are you doing in there-!" before you can even say your friends name, the tomb shoots open, and you're met with a person.

He's wrapped in bandages, threaded with real gold, though blood and old age wear down the luxurious style. His eyes are covered with a faint glow of green behind the cloth. and... are those lion ears on his head...? they're pierced, which you didn't think animal ears could- Why does that matter?! He's looking at you with murder in his eyes-!

"What the hell are you doing?"

...

You slowly step back, picking up the camera and looking at the chat as you record him. It only serves to piss him off more.

"Raw"

"Till his bandages come off"

"He looks a lot like the prince from my history class. Good casting"

"Can I cast him as my groom? To like, my wedding."

Well, if you die, at least you have footage of a dead prince look alike...! You think...If your streaming career fails, maybe this is what makes you famous...?

He steps out of the coffin, tilting his head as his bandaged tail swings back and forth. If you could see his eyes, you're sure he would be glaring daggers at you. Actually, he probably is.

You're about to ask him if those ears and tails of his are real. Better yet, that you sorta had a film set up here. But then you look to your side, the tomb you originally set up propped on the wall.

Blood covers the prop, the lid tightly sealed. When you look back to the man, he laughs once, a flick of his hand opening the cover. Your friend, dressed as a mummy, all sign of life seemingly sucked clean from them.

...

Why do you keep killing all your friends!?

"You gonna end up like them?" You can sense the confidence in the mummy's answer, his feet slowly stepping closer to you before he's face to face at you. You're so shocked your body can't move, even when he places a hand on the nape of your neck, his mouth leaning in, slightly jarred. He's ready to suck all vitality from your body, but then he pauses. "Wait... you're-"

You break free from his grasp, tripping over nothing, and despite his deep voice shouting at you to stop, you don't. Even as your surroundings turn to sand, bandages emerging to grab hold of your limbs, you run.

Not without recording this epic chase, of course. If you don't, no one will see!

You're just about to make it when you trip over your own foot. You don't even have the chance to fall before he catches you, wrapping you all in his bandages.

Oh, come on! You already have to deal with ghosts, zombies, and a stitched up corpse in your own home. This too?!

No matter how hard you shake in the cloth, you can't break free. His hands reach out and pull you in, chest to chest. He looks at you like he's inspecting some fine treasure with a close eye, centimeters away from your face.

"You're that human Ruggie and Jack watch."

...

You should be freaked out that other monsters know you too, but... You can't help but feel flattered you're known in the monster community. Even if they're the things you fake hunt in your videos...

Well... fame is still fame.

You fall back in his arms, having the beast follow along. Your back hits the wall, both your chests still touching as the mummy cages you between his body and the sandstone.

"Tell me more." Despite the fact he could very easily suffocate you, whether with his hands or controlled bandages, you continue your ministrations. You look to the side, making contact with your camera lens that faces the two of you, recording the interaction.

Sometimes, it's good to change up your content.

... Little do you know, on the other side of that camera, your other diligent monster followers watch a Mummy Prince, that they know all too well, practically breathe in your scent. Well, that's not fair at all... It’s no matter, they can always just commission you to come to their haunted locations too :)

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Chapter 11: Worst Case Scenario

As Tim leaves the chemistry classroom he runs a hand through his hair. Was what he said too blunt? Could he have phrased it nicer?

Probably. But, it's difficult to see Y/N as someone with emotions.

The wounds looked nasty, bruising appeared around the neck and on her face in splotches. He didn't miss the red rimming around her nostrils that she didn't wash properly.

It sucks, he supposes. But it's not a big deal. Abuse in Gotham is a constant, she isn't special for having shitty parents.

Walking down the hall Tim checks his phone, he should probably tell Dick that one of her parents now has the phone he bought her. Tim doubts it'll be that big of a deal.

So, he opens up his messages with Dick and types out a quick sentence:

Tim: Y/N's parents have her phone now.

With that Tim waits for an answer as he checks other messages. There were five from Kon, two from Steph and surprisingly, one from Bruce.

Tim quirks a brow, why is Bruce messaging him during class? Clicking on the message the boy's face scrunches up in confusion before slowly melting into shock and even slight horror.

This is bad. Really bad.

Tim decides to turn off his phone, he'll reply later.

He chuckles to himself as he meets up with some school friends, looks like your bad luck is only starting.

Dick rereads the message over and over. What does Tim mean your parents have the phone now?!

Curse Tim and his vagueness! Does this mean Dick went out of his way to get the phone, go to your apartment, then go to the hospital to deliver the phone for nothing?!

It was probably your mother. She seemed like the type to do so. Sure, he hasn't actually met your father but the point still stands!

He doesn't really wanna buy you a new phone - again - and he doubts you're expecting him to... Maybe he'll ask Aranea tonight. They're patrolling the same route this time.

That's if she shows of course..

The day passes by quickly, you praise whatever higher being that you didn't get too many strange looks from people for your bruises.

You quickly get home, wanting to get a nap in before patrol. You're patrolling tonight with Nightwing and as much as you didn't want to, you had a duty as a vigilante of Gotham.

Getting home you pass out on your bed instantly, your dad was probably drinking down at a cheap bar and your mother was at work. Hopefully.

Time flies and you groggily awake from your nap, looking around you notice it's almost dark, then, you check the time and curse loudly to yourself.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" You hop out of bed, you're half an hour late! You get changed and get your gadgets. Looking at the wig you usually put on to conceal your true identity you decide to forgo it, the mask covers your whole head anyway, the wig was just a precaution. Plus, it takes too long to put it on.

With that you swing out of your room and rush to the meet-up point.

Finally arriving you see Nightwing leaning against the chimney of the building, you watch as he grins playfully at you.

"Wow, late as ever Aranea. Did you forget you're patrolling with me?" He teases and you fight back a gag, never have you been so happy that you made your mask to fully cover your face.

"Yeah yeah. Whatever, man." You huff out. You aren't in the mood to banter with him.

So, you start your patrol. All is silent between you two for a good hour before he speaks up, ruining the peace. "Did you get my messages? I had sent a few - they aren't important anymore though."

In all honesty, you haven't checked your comm. Completely forgot you had it. "No, haven't been active on it." You reply, short and sweet. Nightwing looks away, put off at your reply.

Sure, he's used to you being slightly blunt and uninterested but the tone you're using - even through the voice modifier - sounded to resentful and hate filled.

"Right... Well anyway, I need an opinion on something. There's this girl, her name is Y/N and she hates you, like seriously hates you. It's honestly insane, how could anyone hate you?!" He starts and you roll your eyes, scanning over the streets because clearly Nightwing wasn't actually patrolling.

"But anyway.. I did a prank on her and it was super mean, her phone broke and I feel bad about it. Right? So I buy her a new phone but apparently her parents have taken it from her. Should I buy her another one?" You freeze, how did he find out about that? Was it Tim? Of course that apathetic freak would tell Dick. Whatever... It's not a big deal but the idea they casually talk about your civilian identity was disturbing.

You think for a bit, if he got you another phone it would probably just be taken by your mother - or father, to be honest you don't know who ended up taking it. But, it would mean wasting Dick's money, the man has a shitton so it's not like it'd be a crazy purchase.

"I think you should." You state, about to continue before your eyes lock onto a mugger holding a girl at gun-point. You quickly dive down and web the man. His friends start shooting at you as Nightwing swoops down and helps.

Quickly the muggers are apprehended, Nightwing turns around to say something but pauses. A big chunk of your hair was peeking out from the bottom of your mask.

The hair was exactly the same as Y/N's...

You don't notice, confused as to why Dick is staring at you as if he's seen a ghost.

After an awkward silence Nightwing clears his throat. "Some of your hair is out of the mask.." He mutters.

Your eyes widen behind the mask and now you understand why he looked so shocked. This would have been fine - if you had your wig on! You quickly tuck your hair back into your mask.

After a bit you both move up to the rooftops again, the rest of patrol was deathly silent. Dick was trying to wrap his head around the fact Aranea has the exact same hair as Y/N while you were silently freaking out over this.

As patrol finishes up you rush home and get changed into your pajamas. This is so frustrating!

You feel tears build up in your eyes, why is everything collapsing around you?! You spent years honing your powers, building your reputation, building your grades, getting into a good school. Now? Now it's all going down the drain!

Dick isn't dumb. He would have managed to compare. Oh god, he's going to tell the others, isn't he?! Great! Just great!

Meanwhile Dick heads back to the manor, as he enters the batcave he debates on telling the others. If he does the bullying would stop, but, if he doesn't he'll move up in the ranks with you right?

You'll surely like him better if he keeps your identity a secret! In fact, he can even start defending you now!

With that in mind he erases the cam footage of that moment before the others can look over it and heads to bed.

Taglist:

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs @cens0r3d

[heavenlyspence]

In the Stacks | Spencer Reid

summary: You and Spencer meet at the library to search for books together. Will a brief touch between you two change your friendship?

contents/tw: season 4 spencer reid x fem!bau reader; library, mentions of books, oc librarian named Mandy; you’re short sorry; mention of physics and psychology; brief touching; hands; fluff: brief mention of the statistics of death from falling

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is part 2 of my new series! Here is part 1 if you’re looking for it: Meeting of the Nerds.

After your initial elevator meeting with Spencer Reid, the two of you spent the next two weeks messaging and calling each other almost every day. It started with Spencer calling you to ask a question about the case he had been working on. Truthfully, he already knew the answer. But it had been a few hours since you two first met, and he wanted to talk with you. He created a random question to ask you, which you happily answered as it gave you an excuse to talk with him some more.

The next day, you purposely looked for a reason to text him and what would be a better way than asking him about a book! You had been reading the book, 'The Delusions Of Crowds: Why People Go Mad in Groups' by William J. Bernstein and you texted him to get his opinion on it. He responded with a lengthy paragraph detailing his thoughts and feelings about the analytical perspective presented in the book. That led the two of you to begin texting every day about different nonfiction books.

Now it’s been two weeks, and you guys have decided to hang out. Initially, you were going to hang out a few days ago, but Spencer’s team received a case, and he had to fly to Arizona, so you rescheduled it for well…now.

It’s early morning on a Saturday, and you and Spencer both have the day off. You decided to meet up at the local library so you guys can pick out some books together. You walk into the silent library as you carefully observe the nearby displays created by the staff. They do this every month for holidays or for national awareness months, and you’ve grown accustomed to their kind-hearted displays. The library was completely empty except for the librarians who flash warm smiles at you as you walk past them.

“It’s nice to see you again!” An older brunette woman says while tri-folding brochures at the counter. 

You glance over to see her familiar face, “Mandy! It’s nice to see you too!” After you first moved here almost a year ago, you came to the library every day before going to the FBI for training. You were so shy that you barely spoke a word when you were at the library so Mandy,  who has been working at the library since 1992, talked to you more & more until you finally felt more comfortable. You two became so close that she even tried to set you up on a blind date with another one of her patrons a few months ago, but you turned the offer down due to your nerves.

“Sorry I haven’t been here much, Mandy. Work has been super busy.” You say as you walk over to the counter.

She stops folding the brochures as she looks up at you, “It’s alright dear you’re here now! Is there anything I can help you find?” 

“I’m actually looking for someone. Have you se-” You’re interrupted by a loud noise coming from the front of the building.

The sound of rustling leaves and the howl of wind flies through the building as the front door swings open. You glance over to see Spencer walking in while adjusting his brown jacket that got crinkled in the wind. He runs his hand through his hair to try and tame the wind-swept mess, not knowing that you're watching him. 

“Oh, there he is.” You awkwardly tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, feeling self-conscious that the wind messed your hair up as well.

“Is this an early morning date?” Mandy whispers to you as she goes back to tri-folding.

“No, no. He’s just my coworker. We’re…hanging out.” You whisper while Spencer walks closer to you.

“Hi Mandy!” Spencer smiles as he approaches the counter.

Mandy flashes a smile at him, “Hi sweetheart. I see you’ve met my lovely patron.” She gestures at you.

You look at both of them with a perplexed expression, “You two know each other?”

Spencer nods, “I’ve read almost every book in this library, and it’s Mandy who’s been keeping the shelves filled with new material for me to read.” He stands close to you, the smell of coffee and fresh-linen dancing off of him.

Mandy laughs, “He’s the reason we had to purchase so many quantum physics books. We get them and he reads them just like that-” She snaps her fingers.

Spencer looks over at you, “How do you two know each other?”

You point at Mandy, “She’s the reason why I maintained my sanity when I was doing my training for work.”

Mandy finishes tri-folding the brochures and she begins to hand one to each of you, “You two would’ve been married by now if you let me set you up on that blind date a few months ago.” You each grab the brochure stunned by her comment.

“What?” You two say in shock.

Mandy places the rest of the brochures on the stand next to Spencer, “Well, I thought you two would make a good couple. So I tried setting you up on a date but you both declined my offer. Now look at you two.” She looks them up and down with a smirk.

“We’re not a-” Spencer gets cut off.

“I know. But at least you two are friends.” Mandy looks over at another person walking into the library, “Now I have to get back to work. But let me know if you two need anything.” She walks over and greets the new patron, leaving Spencer and yourself confused.

“Well…” You awkwardly look at Spencer, “Wanna look for some books?” 

He clears his throat, “Yeah. Here, I made this.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, “It’s a list of books that I think you’d be interested in.”

You carefully take the piece of paper from his hand so as to not accidentally touch his hand again, “Thanks!” You pull out your phone from your pocket, “I made you a list of books too, but you’ve probably read all of them.” He chuckles lightly as you go to your notes app and find the list you made, “Here it is!” You hand him your phone, and he reads through your surprising list.

“I actually haven’t read three of these books yet. So I’ll get those if they have them here.” He hands you back your phone and you put it into your pocket as you two begin walking towards the stacks.

You two spend over an hour and ½ looking at books together. Some of them are on the lists, and others just look intriguing, so you take the time to read the blurbs on the back covers. Occasionally, you catch yourself staring at Spencer when his hands move across the book pages, when he’s able to quickly read the titles on the shelf, or when a piece of his hair falls across his face and he casually puts it back. But you never seem to catch him when he’s watching a smile form on your face as you read an interesting blurb or when he can’t help but smile as you scrunch your face when thinking about something. 

Finally, you two are left with one book to look for, and you can’t seem to find it. Spencer goes to ask Mandy where it’s located while you stay and continue to look in the nonfiction section. You read through the shelves meticulously in hopes of finding the book title you’re searching for. After a minute or two of Spencer being gone, you take a step back and notice the title of the book you’re looking for sitting on the highest shelf.

You go over to the nearby step stool and drag it over to where you need it. You carefully press the four books in your arm against your chest as you stand on top of the stool. Your free hand reaches for the book but it’s tightly wedged in place- probably because it’s been sitting there for several years now since most people aren’t regularly checking out a 600 page book about physics and psychology…

You stand on your tiptoes to get a better grip of the book, but as you go to pull it out, you start to lose your balance. Footsteps quicken behind you, and suddenly, two hands rest upon your waist, holding you steady.

“Did you find the book?” Spencer says as he peers around you to see what you’re holding.

You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Ye-yep and nearly killed myself in the process.” 

He smirks at your joke, “Statistically, there are only 300 deaths per year that are caused by falling off of ladders. But those are usually much taller than this stool, so I think it would be okay if you fell.” He removes one of his hands from your waist and holds it out for you, “Here, let me help you down.”

You take his hand and slowly step back onto the floor, “Thank you.” As you step down, his hand gradually falls from your waist, and you begin to miss the feeling of it.

He continues to hold your hand while looking in your eyes, “Well, now that we’ve gotten all of our books, I was wondering if you wanted to create a mini book club that’s just us.” 

You look at his hand holding onto yours and then back at his eyes, “A book club?” 

He lets go of your hand and begins to speak faster out of embarrassment, “Yeah, we don’t have to read the same books! We could read different books and then discuss with each other about what we’ve read.” He looks down at the ground worrying if he overstepped.

“I’d love that! It sounds like a lot of fun!” You hold up the 600-page book you just grabbed, “But you read a lot faster than I do; like this 600-page book is probably gonna take me a week to finish.” 

A huge smile forms on his face as he looks back at you, “That’s fine! We can meet up once a week and I’ll talk about all the books I’ve read.”

“While I just tell you about the singular one I’ve read.” You laugh slightly at the idea of him excitedly rambling on about multiple books while you explain why you love or hate one book.

The two of you walk to the checkout counter while planning to meet up next week at a local cafe to talk about your books. You two talk nonstop at the counter as Mandy checks your books out. Neither of you notice Mandy’s knowing smile as she watches your relationship change right in front of her eyes. You two walked in as friends, but you're leaving as something more…

[diceroll65]

party animal part two - b.e

billie eilish x fem!reader

a/n: part two finally! thank you all so very much for the patience <3

summary: you are recovering from being cheated on by your now ex-girlfriend, and decide to attend billie's party where you know she will be. (billie is NOT the ex-girlfriend in question btw)

warnings: fight! fight! fight!, discussion of unsatisfying sexual encounters, degrading terms (whore), little bit of fluff at the end

part one, part two, part three

previously.... "all of a sudden your eyes completely widen as very harsh knocking is coming from the other side of the door"

you look to billie with a startled expression, frantically pulling your dress back down. billie helps fix any ruffles in your dress, and motions for you to fix the smeared makeup from under your eyes. you attempt to wipe the smudged lipstick off your chin, as billie tries wiping the lipstick off her lips.

the knocking continues to get more aggressive, now coinciding with tay's voice. "i know you're in there, y/n" tay growls, as you can feel her glare through the door. "stop being a bitch and open the fucking door", tay says, now jiggling the handle. you swing the door open with a spew of confidence, locking eyes with your deceitful ex-girlfriend. the music now engulfs your ears once again, as people remain dancing. "what do you want, tay?" you ask, your voice oozing with annoyance. "i know that you're not asking me that right now" tay rolls her eyes, "looks like you're in the middle of something" tay states, now glaring at billie. "well... i was" you say with a playful smirk, maintaining eye contact with tay. tay laughs, "you're such a desperate whore, fucking household names just to get back at me" your eyes widen at her statement. "you flatter yourself thinking I fucked her just to get back at you" you retort, in a dangerous tone. "it actually just ended up happening, but i'm glad it did. I was finally able to experience a real orgasm" you say, with people now listening in on the conversation. "ohs" and "damns" begin to fill the room, as tay is now staring at her air Jordan 5s, swallowing harshly.

"is that why we haven't fucked in so long? did I not satisfy you?" tay questions in a surprisingly gentle tone. "this is not the time for this, tay" you express, sternly. "even if it was the reason, you had no right to go fucking other people" you say, shifting your weight slightly. "why didn't you just come to me about this, y/n?" tay probes, her eyes softening. "we wouldn't even be here right now, acting out like this" tay says, inching towards you a little. "and who the fuck put us in this position, tay?" you question already knowing the answer. you get closer to tay's face. "you gave into the temptation, not me. so don't try and make me out to be the whore or blame me for reacting accordingly to what you did" you argued, stepping back from her gesture. tay's expression hardens since you were not giving into her sorry attempt of justifying her choices.

"oh just admit it. you were dying to fuck other people as soon as you found out" tay states, looking around for approval from the attendees. "the audacity..." you said internally. "nah, we're not all shitty people, tay" billie chimes in after staying silent during the previous argument, allowing you to get out what you needed to. billie gently grabs your arm, guiding you to stand behind her. her arms are now crossing over chest, projecting her face up while maintaining eye contact with tay. "what the fuck did you just say?" tay sternly questions, her stance stiffening. "not everyone who is in a long term relationship dreams about seducing others. you're deflecting" billie says, now holding onto her hips. "this is none of your fucking business, eilish" tay states, now overstepping billie's personal space. "she is not your girl anymore, bro" billie remarks in an irritated tone. "she doesn't owe you anything."

tay initiates a push, striking billie's chest. billie straightens up after, walks towards tay with her arms folded behind her back. "you are making a fool of yourself" billie softly mentions, smiling. tay pushes her again, this time a little more forcefully. "you don't want to fuck with me" tay snarls, locking her jaw. "and what will happen if I do?" billie says, antagonizing tay with her proximity. in response to this, tay's fist collides with billie's jaw, diverting billie's attention to look over her right shoulder. billie comes back at tay with an overhand punch, leading tay to stumble backwards. billie laughs, mockingly hand motioning for tay to come back towards her. "come on" she says, her voice now infused with adrenaline. tay comes back with an assertive punch to the apple of billie's cheek. billie's adjusts back to her straight posture, her foot finding itself slamming into the back of tay's knee. tay is now on the ground, as billie gets on top of her and begins repetitively punching her in the face. you now step in and snatch billie off tay, allowing for tay to get off the ground. she begins to approach once again, causing you to step in front of billie. "this is embarrassing, tay" you say, with a disappointed expression. "do yourself a favor and just go" you offer, subtly directing towards the door with your head. tay with a now bloody nose frantically looks around, and drops a "fuck you guys" while making her way towards the door. she exits the house, slamming the door behind her.

you turn to billie, who now has a plum-colored jaw and gently investigate the bruising. billie winces at your touch, causing you to gently let go and let out a soft "sorry." billie's attention is now facing the ground, as she shakes her head, laughing at what just occurred. you grab billie's shoulders, causing her to divert her attention back up to you. her face softens in reaction to seeing your conflicted expression. "i'm so sorry billie i dont even know where to star-" "no" billie cuts you off. "you did nothing wrong. not in any shape or form" billie states, reassuring you. "she is a fucking idiot for cheating on you in the first place, and then to think she can say all that shit to you" billie says, clenching her jaw as she mentally replays what tay said. you nod while looking down at your pumps, clicking your heels together softly. billie takes her hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to meet her longing gaze. "how anyone could take you for granted is beyond me" she expresses with a soft smile, showing obvious discomfort from the pain. you smile back, grabbing her hand that is intertwined with a piece of your hair and interlock your fingers together. you bring her hand up to your lips, as you gently pressing them to the fairies that are etched into her skin. she smiles at your gesture, with her eyebrows gradually beginning to furrow.

"so you're telling me she's never made you finish?"

part three -> so you don't have to scroll all the way back up! :D

[steddieas-shegoes]

He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.

But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.

It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.

Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.

And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.

Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.

“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.

Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.

“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.

His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.

Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.

“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.

“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”

Eddie froze.

The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.

He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.

If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.

“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.

“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.

“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.

Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.

“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.

Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.

“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.

Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.

“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.

“I’m fine, dude.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.

Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.

“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”

That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?

“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”

“Not for me, usually.”

Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”

Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.

“Why?”

Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.

He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.

“And go where?”

“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”

“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”

He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.

“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.

“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”

Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”

The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.

“What do you have interest in?”

Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.

But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.

Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.

“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”

Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.

“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.

Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.

“We’ll see.”

———

On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.

Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.

And it was just the beginning.

Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.

They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.

They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you, too,” Steve said back.

He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.

He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.

Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn’t really blame him.

“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.

Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.

Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”

He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.

He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.

“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”

Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.

“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.

Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”

“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”

“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”

Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”

“Because! I have to know!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”

Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.

Italy was the perfect place to propose.

[kettleinusefornow]

Rough ride.. MDNI

Sae Itoshi X Reader fic

Contains breakup and miscommunication

Revenge sex

Iceskater!reader

eventual happy ending </3

teenage love

ALOT of angst

CHP2 CHP LIST

CHAPTER 1: Pleasant Surprise

YEAR 2008

You guys meet for the first time at the Itoshi residence. 

“You guys are Rin and Sae Itoshi!” Y/N was always an extreme extrovert unlike the brothers.

“Hey..” Sae greeted as Rin shyly hid behind him looking at Y/N with starry eyes. It’s obvious that Sae was slightly cautious since this was the point where he started getting recognised for his football skills.. So a lot of people only approached him with ulterior motives.

“Sooo wanna go play Mario kart..?“ Y/N pointed at the couch in front of the TV.

They somehow, despite their obvious differences,  became friends.. 

YEAR 2009 

Well they were closer now. That’s for sure. Y/N was part of their daily life, since they were in the same school.

“Move it grinch hair!!” 

“Get the hell away dufus!” 

Y/N and Rin were basically siblings. Sae was still.. Distant? No, more like he was just socially awkward. 

Y/N and Rin played with their dinosaurs while Sae was behind them eating a popsicle on the bench. 

“Oni-Chan! This monkey keeps trying to kill my Dino!” 

“Am not!”

Sae sighed. “Y/N you are the older one you should be nicer.. I think..”

YEAR 2012

 Sae started middle school so he was always away in school or on the field. This was the time when Rin and Sae started sharing a dream to become No.1 and 2 strikers. Y/N always thought it was a little presumptuous but she never discouraged them from their dream. 

Rin and Y/N  were walking to Sae’s game that was happening at the field. 

“So you know that my brother has a crush on you right?” Y/N almost spit out the lollipop that she had in her mouth.

“Okay how did you come up with that conclusion, broccoli boy..” 

“Well.. he always dresses up nice and tries extra hard on the field when he sees you.. Isn’t that enough?”

Well.. He isn’t wrong.. Y/N was young but not dumb. 

“Yeah but maybe you are overthinking it Rin, Sae is basically a blockhead no way he would have thought about me while playing football..”

“I guess..” 

Y/N was almost taken aback by how easily Rin agreed with her.

The game ended and Sae was walking home with them. Tailing behind the two of them. Sae had his eyes on her head as he turned and lazily glanced around. All of sudden, Rin asked a question that set Sae out of his daze.

“So when is Nee-San gonna date Oni-Chan?” He asked so casually that Y/N didn’t even process it completely before exploding with pink and red dusted on her cheeks. Rin turned his head back and looked at Sae for an answer. Y/N also looked at him with a flustered expression. Sae had a blank expression but finally answered after a few seconds. 

“Probably when we are older.” Y/N was now completely red. She was shocked and started running home. Neither of the brothers chased her.  

“Woah Oni-Chan, seems like you actually have a chance..”

YEAR 2013

The year that 13 year old Sae was gonna go to Spain for his football career.

Rin was at home with a headache. Y/N and Sae went to the park for some fresh air and to buy some snacks for Rin. 

“Y/N..” She turned to look at Sae who was beside her. Both of them were on the swing as she waited for him to continue his sentence.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Y/N got a little scared about what he was gonna say. 

Y/N and Sae started dating when she started junior high. He confessed to her in a traditional yet cheesy way by giving her a letter and going on a vacation with his family the next day. She always had a thing for him.. It’s Sae. It was your normal middle school sweetheart romance and they thought they would last forever. 

“Arggh why do you sound ominous!? Just spit it out..” Y/N said swinging on the same nostalgic swing he confessed to her on.

“I’m going to Spain for a few years.” There. He said it. A few seconds of silence followed before Y/N spoke out.

“You idiot! You scared me! You’ll come back after a few years anyways it’s not a big deal! Just don’t cheat on me and don’t ignore my letters..” Y/N said with a loud voice that got quieter the more she spoke.

Sae suddenly started laughing. Y/N was dumbfounded.. Was him going to Spain for a few years making him insane? “W-what’s so funny?!” 

“Nothing. You have to promise me you will still love me when I come back.” Sae said, with a big grin on his face and staring at her with a soft blush across his face. Y/N groaned and nodded as if it was the obvious.

The day finally arrived. The day of Sae’s departure. Y/N promised not to cry but shiny droplets fell down her face. Rin stood by her side as the both of them waved goodbye to Sae who was smiling at them warmly the whole time. 

YEARS BETWEEN 2013 AND 2018

Y/N sent him letters and of course he replied to them. Not much but he replied at least once every 5 letters. Soon you got your first smartphone. You guys texted often, not much but from time to time due to the difference of time zones. Sometimes your messages would be left on delivered for a whole week. His replies got dryer, being left on seen more.. Both Y/N and Rin brushed it off as him being busy. They had no other reason to think he was being rude or trying to distance himself. Realistically speaking it wasn’t a big deal.. Yet. 

After 4 years the messages which were being sent turned into once every 2 or 3 months. Y/N was getting busy with her school and friends. Rin still trained every single day for the pair's shared goal. Suddenly one cold evening, Y/N sent a message.. It turned.. Green?

“What the?? What’s going on?” Y/N texted Rin telling him what happened. He said he hasn’t texted him in awhile so he doesn’t know. 

“Okay let’s calm down.. Maybe it was a misclick? I don’t know.. ugh.. whatever. I’ll see him soon enough I’ll just.. tolerate it until then?” Y/N knew she shouldn’t think too much about it after seeing Rin’s reply.

YEAR 2018

Y/N heard the news he arrived.. But how did she hear it? Rin knocked on her house door. Eyes rimmed in red and hopelessness. He asked if he could stay there for the night. Y/N forced Rin to tell her what the hell had happened earlier that night..

She was.. shocked? No.. Disappointed? Not that. Maybe taken aback? She silently left the guest bedroom where Rin was in and went to the living room. Would he be there if she went knocking right now? Y/N got up and told her parents she was gonna go next door to greet them. The two families knew about Y/N and Sae’s relationship and thought it was just a cute reunion about to unfold. Sae’s parents weren’t home since they went to a small get together and would be back after midnight probably. 

Y/N nervously knocked on the door.. 

“Yes?-“ piercing mint teal eyes shot through her as it stared at her with no emotion.. She couldn’t think at all for a second. Sae was different. Yes much more handsome as he is 18 now but.. different emotionally too. The half lidded her eyes widened a little as it looked at her, in the dark with snow falling around her. Why did he look so.. pale and almost like a child abandoned..?

“Sae?” This small word was followed by silence. The only sounds that surrounded them were the leaves rustling and wind howling. Y/N swore it felt like time had just stopped. Sae looked at her with exasperated and drained eyes. 

The silence finally broke when Sae said something. “What do you want?” 

Oh.

Oh. 

©kettleinuse4now | please do not translate, repost, refer without permission | don’t steal and say it’s your own (ahole behavior)

[tthoroughfare]

kerosene (part 2) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the one where she breaks up with cat.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 0.8k

this is part two of this series! find part one here

I AM ENJOYING WRITING THIS SO MUCH i literally don't want them to get together because i just love yearning so much sighhh. i'm already up to the part where things finally happen and i know i'm gonna end up posting those, then going back and writing little extra parts to slot in where they're still friends. anywayyy hope you enjoy <3

something about the conversation makes ellie deliberate for weeks. it was the way you’d spoken about your relationship just not feeling ‘right’, the way she couldn’t really verbalize anything she felt like she should say about cat. she doesn’t know if she’s just overthinking everything. cat’s great. sure, she can’t see herself spending the rest of her life with her, but she makes her happy. they have fun. they have things in common. she feels like she starts to make a mental list of all the reasons they’re together, analyzing the relationship, analyzing her own feelings. she can’t shake the notion that now they’re settled in, the excitement of newness gone, she, too, feels like something isn’t ‘right’.

she hopes it just goes away on its own. but when just over a month passes and nothing has changed, she knows she has to just do it. 

it starts off as a regular day; she meets cat at a spot they frequent, stomach churning at the anticipation. she wants to just rip the band-aid off, but she can’t. the words won’t come out. she flounders around for a while, talking about nothing, knowing full well cat can tell something’s up. finally, when she straight up asks her why she’s being weird, she just comes out and says it. she wants to break up.

of course, she feels awful. cat’s confused, and crying, and asking all kind of questions ellie can’t really express any answers to. she’s upset about it, too. but she just knows in her heart it’s for the better.

it’s cemented when she’s walking back home, realizing she feels a little lighter.

she sees you properly again about a week later, when there’s an event in jackson. she really wasn’t planning on going, not wanting to risk seeing cat (not wanting to have to interact with anyone, pretty much), but dina had convinced her, saying she ‘can’t lock herself away forever.’

she walks in late, party already in full swing, and immediately spots you in the corner chatting to jesse. you haven’t actually spoken in a few weeks, just a greeting when you saw each other out and about, but you seem happier than you were before. she kicks herself mentally when she finds herself hoping it’s not because you’ve found someone new.

she awkwardly hovers around, getting herself a drink and sipping it, people watching. these things were never her idea of a great time.

after about ten minutes, dina appears at her side, visibly tipsy. “what the hell are you doing?” she asks playfully, gesturing at the room full of people. “you’re a single woman now, c’mon. get out there.”

ellie pulls a face, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink. “yeah, that's definitely my style.”

dina lets out a short, exasperated sigh, taking ellie by the wrist and tugging her across the room, towards you and jesse. “at least socialize. you’re all… weird. more than usual.”

“oh, shut up,” she retorts lowly, but allows herself to be hauled over to the two of you. her stomach flutters slightly when she gets a proper look at you; you’re a little more done-up than normal, eyes sparkling in the warm light as you greet her.

she doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or something else, but that night is the first time things start to feel explicitly different. on one hand, it’s similar to how it was before — the odd pleasantness dissipated in the air. it feels more like a real friendship again, rather than two people dancing around each other. but on the other, something just feels… new.

she actually ends up having a really good time. she spends the majority of the night with you, drinking more than you both probably should, conversation flowing easily. and when it’s over, she insists on walking you home, despite you saying dina’s staying the night and you weren’t going to be alone anyway.

she just shrugs and smiles.

on the short walk back, dina’s chatting your ear off, thoroughly drunk, but you can’t really focus on anything she’s saying. not just because of the fuzzy feeling in your head, but because of the way you’re so, so aware of ellie’s presence. you’re walking in between them, noticing the way she seems to gravitate towards you, swaying away slightly, then back in. you cross your arms, not wanting to accidentally brush against her, not really understanding why.

she lingers at the door when you get home, dina heading straight in and kicking her shoes off, flopping down on your couch.

“well… thanks. you’re free to go,” you joke after a small pause.

ellie shoots a lopsided smile, leaning against the doorframe. “welcome.” she pauses, like she doesn’t want to go, like she wants to say something. but she doesn’t. she just taps the doorframe and stands up straight. “see you later.”

dina yells out a ‘bye, ellie’, and you wave goodbye as she turns around to leave, trying not to think about the way that smile sent your stomach all funny. “get home safe. update me on the hangover.”

she looks over her shoulder at you as she walks away, chuckling. “will do.”

you go to close the door, watching her stuff her hands into her pockets and make her way down the street for a moment too long.

[augustvandyne]

Lucy Chen x reader

Staff outing and they end up going home together and rushing to work the next day and people start asking questions and Angela and Tim end up figuring it out when reader and Lucy leave work together at the end of the day

nothing

When the alarm clock woke both of you up this morning, your eyes burnt from lack of sleep and your neck was aching from the position you slept in last night.

Last night was a last second outing that John of all people suggested, but it was a much needed break.

So much so that even Tim accepted the invitation.

Everyone had a good time and at the end of the night, Lucy offered to ‘drive you home’ because you’d left your car at the station, riding over to the bar with her.

But the truth was you and Lucy had been dating for some time and hadn’t spent the night together yet. Lucy suggested the two of you should spend the night together. Nothing sexual, but she wanted to sleep in the same bed as you, because as stupid as it sounded, she just wanted to hold you after the week you’ve all had.

She reaches over you to shut the alarm off, settling herself on top of you.

“Hi,” Lucy looks down nervously, an anxious smile on her lips.

“Hi,” You reach up and twirl a few strands of her hair between your fingers. “You’re cute when you wake up.”

“Stop,” Lucy shakes her head and falls back into her spot in bed.

“Come back,” You chuckle and roll over so you’re on top of her.

She looks into your eyes and leans up to put a soft kiss on your lips.

You make a face when her lips leave yours and she puts her hand over her mouth.

“Oh,” She speaks through her fingers. “I have really bad morning breath. I’m so sorry.”

She begins to laugh and you shake your head, removing her hand from her lips to you can get another kiss.

“I don’t care,” You say as you kiss her again. “I just wanted another kiss.”

“That can be arranged,” Lucy moves her hand to snake around your neck to pull you closer when her second alarm goes off.

She groans softly and reaches over to turn the alarm off again.

“Just.. just five more minutes,” Lucy moves back over and pulls your face back to hers.

“Lucy Chen, are you asking for a five minute make out like teenagers?”

“Maybe,” She shrugged, the newfound confidence glowing on her skin.

“I’m down,” You smile and give a soft nip at her lip.

“I cannot believe we are late,” Lucy throws her head back angrily as she swings the door open to the station.

“Luce,” You say in a soft voice, pulling her aside in the lobby. “It’s okay, alright?”

“Well— wha—“

“Shh,” You press a finger to her lips. “We will figure it out, okay? I promise.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “Okay.”

Lucy opens her eyes and smiles nervously. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“What? You didn’t get enough this morning?” You wink and walk through to the main section of the station, making your way towards the locker room.

“Boot!” You suddenly stop at Angela’s words. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting.”

“Um..” You look around and move your bag up on your arm to buy time. “Well Lucy drove me to the bar last night and then home and my car was still here. And you see—“

“I didn’t ask for your whole life story. Just say you left your car and Lucy had to go out of her way to get you,” Angela puts her hand up. “Get changed and hurry. We’re running a high stakes operation today, and you should’ve been in an hour ago.”

“Yes ma’am,” You hurry off and only then does she notice that you’re wearing the same shirt from last night.

You’re all but finished changing when Lucy finally comes through the doors.

“What took you so long?” You ask, taking extra time to pull your shoes on.

“Tim,” She shakes her head, opening her locker and pulling clothes on. “He chewed me out in front of the whole station? Can you believe it? Actually, don’t answer that because we both believe it. I’ve never been late the whole time I’ve worked here — unless it was life threatening — and the one time I accidentally do he has something to say. God, I can’t believe we were late. And they are out there gossiping, and just—“

“Lucy, baby,” You stand and pull her in by her open uniform top, placing another kiss on her lips. “I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”

“Okay,” She nods and presses her lips onto yours again. “We’ll be okay.”

“Chen! L/n! Let’s go!” Angela’s voice booms from the door and you finish putting your shoe on.

“I’ll see you out there my love,” You place a rushed kiss onto her cheek and are out the door in a second.

“Took you long enough,” Angela says, lurking by the door.

She squints at you and you put a hand on your chest from her scaring you.

“Oh my— don’t do that,” You furrow your brows together. “What is that face for?”

“Nothing,” She tilts her lips down and shakes her head.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” It’s your turn to squint now.

Lucy stumbles out of the locker room, still buttoning up her shirt.

“What are you guys standing out here for?”

“Nothing,” Angela continues shaking her head, looking between the two of you. She leaves the two of you standing with a chuckle.

She walks back over to Tim and the two of them turn away to talk while you and Lucy share a look.

“Let’s go,” Tim turns around after a second. “Not you, Chen. I want L/n with me today.”

“Good job today, boot,” Tim says as the two of you exit the shop.

“Thank you, Officer Bradford,” You nod, eager to be praised from another officer other than your TO.

“You know, with being late and everything.”

You roll your eyes once he turns away from you and you walk behind him to return the war bags.

“The paperwork will be waiting on your desk,” Tim stands beside you awkwardly, his lips resting in a straight line as you return the bags and put your body cam back.

“Do you need something?” You ask with a confused face.

“Nope.”

“Okay so what’s wrong?” You move to walk towards the locker room.

“Nothing,” He shakes his head with the same expression Angela had earlier.

“Okay, what is wrong with you guys?” You raise your voice slightly. “You and Lopez. You keep making that face. Am I not allowed to ask Lucy for a ride to work?”

His eyes change at the use of first name and not last name like you normally would.

You huff and walk off, “Leave the paperwork on my desk.”

“Already planned on it.”

You make your way to your locker, and most of the women were also changing at the same time, so you couldn’t get a fix of the craving you wanted. (Kissing Lucy).

You settled on a few secretive looks in her direction, which very much did not go unnoticed by Angela.

You and Lucy finished at the same time, her going a little slower once you came into the locker room make sure you were done at the same time.

Lucy keeps a hold of your bag strap as the two of you exit the station, Angela following close behind.

Tim is standing at the exit — in a darker area, where Lucy and you can’t see him — waiting for Angela.

They both stand together, watching for the two of you to make any moves that indicate you are more than friends.

You hop in the passenger side of Lucy’s car and the two of them share a look.

“They are so together,” Angela stands with her arms crossed over her chest, sticking one hand out.

“Yeah, I hate to admit, but you’re right,” He slaps a twenty in her palm.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The hollowness remains. It feels like there’s stones rattling around in your chest. You don’t think you ever truly understood the word frazzled until that moment. 

And each time you glance over and see Rogers’ bloody knuckles, it adds to the frenetic energy trapped inside you. Your mind flashes with the sight of him on top of that man, fists raining down, blood on the asphalt. Each time, a tide of dizziness threatens to sweep you away. 

He finally pulls up to a grey brick building. You look at your watch. It’s been barely half an hour since you left the firm but it feels like a lifetime. 

He gets out without a word. You follow suit, or try to. You push the door open, only to be trapped by the seat belt still strapped across you. You grunt and unclick it. You grab your briefcase and lean heavily on the door as you set your feet on the ground. 

You stand and teeter in your short heels. Where are you? Scratch that. You don’t want to know. You know that it’s best to know nothing and not ask any questions. 

“Hurry up,” Rogers hand curls around the top of the car door. You step away and he swings it shut. He points tersely to the building, “in.” 

You obey, gripping tight the leather handles of your bag, and scurry ahead of him. You feel like a mouse with a cat slowly stalking you from behind. 

There are two men standing outside the doors of the building. You look between them with wide eyes. They don’t seem to see you but are quick to nod to the man at your tail. 

“Rogers,” one intones and gets as much answer as you have so far. 

The blond henchman opens the door and you flit inside. This is like a cartoon. It’s absurd. You don’t know much about these type of people, you were never into those movies. Kind of boring in your opinion and besides, this is real life. 

“Hey, you’re going the wrong way,” Rogers calls as you turn left without thinking. “Up.” 

He points upstairs and you turn back and nod. You show your teeth and push your shoulders up, “sorry.” 

He waits and walks up at your side. Your eyes trail again to his hand. His long fingers twiddle in agitation. Would he do the same to you if you step out of line? 

You trip over the top step and he catches your arm before you can topple. You suck in air, terrified, and right yourself. 

“Sorry, er, thanks,” you utter. 

He lets you go with a sigh and points to his right. You’re going to mess this up. God, why did Brenner send you? You’re a new accountant, you aren’t prepared for any of this. Well, they didn’t exactly offer a class on the underworld, did they? 

“You’re breathing loudly,” Rogers says as he stops at a door. 

You blanch and hold your breath. You look at him and blink. His brows arch. 

“You can breathe, just... quietly,” he shakes his head. 

He taps on the left door in the double set before you. He drops his hand to the curled candle and pushes inward. You stare at his knuckles again. He nudges you ahead of him. 

You walk into the room as you wring the handles of your briefcase. There’s a man inside. Is he the big bad? Then what does that make Rogers? 

You look between them and sway. Your head is spinning. You haven’t had breakfast yet. 

“Buck,” Rogers says dully.  

“That them?” The man behind the desk asks. His dark hair is swept back as his thick beard defines his already square jaw. He wears a silver tie and a black suit. These men might be criminals but they dress well. 

“She can count,” Rogers says. 

“Great,” the other man replies flatly. “And she understands?”  

“She does.” Rogers assures. 

Your eyes skitter back and forth. What are they talking about? What do you understand?

The man he calls Buck exhales. His eyes lower and you follow them. Once more you’re looking at the bloody knuckles. 

“You been scrapping?” The man behind the desk accuses. 

“Keeping order,” Rogers crosses his arms. 

The other man tuts and looks at you, “what did he do?” 

Your eyes round and your head swirls. You tilt your head one way then the other. You can feel Rogers watching you. You don’t know much about being bad, you’re a good girl, but you know you don’t snitch. 

Again the scene plays like a reel in your head. That man’s face smeared across the pavement, the horrible sound of his ribs cracking against leather shoes. 

“I... He did...” you wisp and lock your knees, “he did what needs to be done. You know... he...” 

Your eyes roll back and you tip backwards. You don’t feel the crash. You sink into the black cushion of your subconscious, content to escape into the void. 

You wake in a leather chair. The two men stand before you, looking down at you as your head lolls. You grumble and flutter your lashes. 

“She okay?” The dark-haired man asks. 

“She does that,” Rogers puts his hands on his hips. “She’s awake.” 

“I can see.” The other man sneers and reaches under his jacket. You follow his hand as he rests it on his holster. You gulp at the silver butt of the handgun there. “Time for the talk,” he reaches his other arm above you and leans in. “You hear me?” 

You nod as you stare at the gun. 

“Look at me,” the man demands. Rogers grunts, a warning. You look into the man’s bold blue eyes. “Anyone asks you anything about me, or him, or anything that happens inside these walls, you keep your mouth shut.” 

You slump as your head throbs. You feel the blackness creeping up. He snaps his fingers in front of your face. 

“Stay with me here,” he says. “Look, we aren’t gonna hurt you. Not unless you give us a reason. So, you keep those lips zipped and do your work, you’re good as gold. You understand me?” 

You show your teeth and nod. 

“And as long as you’re working for me, you’re under my protection. Got it? Rogers will take care of you.” He pushes himself straight and turns to face the other man, “get her some water before she passes out again.” 

[viceroywrites]

liquor on your lips (1/2)

you met stan pines on your first day working at the dead end motel.

in just a week, you were addicted to him.

mullet stan x gn!reader

part two here

inspired by you can be the boss by lana del rey - contributing to the mullet stan obsession - second part will include smut 👀

.

It was your first day on the job when you met Stan Pines.

The owner of the motel, Tony, walked you through your daily duties at the Dead End Motel. 

Checking guests in and out, answering the phones, collecting money from anyone staying for more than one night at the motel.

It was a fairly simple job it seemed like.

“If anyone gives you a hard time when I’m not here, call me - I live just a block away and can swing by to straighten them out. There’s also a bat underneath the counter - I’m giving you full permission to slug anyone. We’ll just erase it from the camera footage if we need to.” Tony explains, pulling the bat out.

Well, maybe not.   

You blink, digesting the thought that you might actually have to use it but nod in understanding.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the back doing some paperwork, holler if you need me.” Tony disappears into his back office, leaving you at the front desk.

The next few hours are pretty uneventful. You check-out some people and have one check-in. Right at 5, Tony dips out for the day, reminding you to give him a call if anything happens and to clock-out before you head out when the night shift person takes your place.

You spend the next few hours leaning back in the office chair and doodling, hoping to past the time and reminding yourself to bring a book or crosswords to work on during these slower hours.

The jingle of the bell signaled the arrival of someone as the front door swung open. You quickly put the piece of paper down, straightening your posture as you had your feet propped up on the counter.

In walked a man in his 30s, the messy mop of brown atop his head grown out into a mullet, the stubble across his square jawline apparent. He wore a white t-shirt, a pair of pants that had a few stains littered across the material and a red hoodie that looked like it had seen better days.

The scent of tobacco and a woodsy, cheap cologne hit you immediately as he approached the desk, his hands in his pockets.

“Hey.. uh.. I need a room for the night.” His deep, gruff voice echoed through the small, empty lobby. Your feet push against the tile floor, wheeling over to the opposite end of the counter and glancing over at the list of the available rooms.

“Room for one or two?” You ask, eyebrow raised as you look back over to him. 

Stan looks around the empty lobby before replying in response, “Well, there’s no one else here but me, toots.”

Your cheeks can’t help but flush in embarrassment. You get up from your seat before muttering out an explanation, “Figured I’d just ask. This place is a hot spot for late night hook-ups so I didn’t know if you had a date waiting for you in the car.”

Stan lets out a husky chuckle, leaning against the counter, “Not sure if I should be offended or flattered that you think I would be coming here for a hook-up.” His eyes follow your figure as you face away from him, searching for a particular room key. 

He had to admit after all the seedy motels he’s stayed at, he wasn’t expecting to see someone as stunning as you. You stood out in the tiny motel lobby, a fresh face in a dreary environment, somehow looking radiant underneath the yellow, fluorescent lights that hang above.

You grab a key off the hooks on the wall, the keychain with the number 12 dangling from it. “The rate for one night will be $20.” You slide the key onto the counter.

Stan fishes into his deep hoodie pocket, pulling out a beat-up leather wallet. Rifling through the crumpled up business cards of all his short-lived business ventures and his numerous fake IDs, he finally fishes out a few dollar bills. Thumbing through them, he curses underneath his breath.

He’s short by only 3 bucks.

His brown eyes glance up at you with a sense of unease, clearing his throat, “Mind if I go back to my car and scrounge up some change?”

It slowly dawns on you the predicament that he’s in, nodding in understanding. You watch as he disappears back outside and you can’t help but follow behind him. Through the glass door, you watch as he unlocks his car, tossing miscellaneous objects aside while he digs in the back seat for spare change he might have dropped.

Sympathy washes over you as you see his crest-fallen expression when he comes out from the car with only a dollar and a few cents of change in the palm of his hand. You scurry back behind the desk before he makes his way back, ready to tell you that he’ll have to find another place to stay for the night.

“Hey, toots, turns out I don’t have enough. Sorry to waste your time.” Stan says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares at the ground in shame. He’s about to reach for the bills that he threw on the counter, ready to take his leave. 

“It’s on me.” You quickly say, fishing out the remaining three dollars needed and grabbing the stack of bills on the counter to put in the cash box underneath the desk. 

As you come back up, you see Stan staring back at you in astonishment.

In all the years that Stan had been running from state to state, no one had shown him the kindness that you showed him today. No one had extended out a hand, offering support… at least not without a price. 

“Why are you helping me?” Stan asks in his state of shock.

You pause at his question. You’re not sure what compelled you to help this total stranger out but you knew if you were struggling, you would want someone to lend you a helping hand. 

“Why not?” You answer back simply, “It doesn’t cost me anything to be kind.” 

“Well, it did cost you a couple bucks.” Stan can’t help but point out.

“Eh, I’ll make those couple bucks back in no time at my first job.” You shrug with a smile, “I work as a bartender at the bar across town, this is just my second job to make a couple extra bucks.” 

“So you’re a bit of a workhorse, huh? I can respect that, sweetheart.” Stan says with a grin, finally taking the keys off the counter.

“Toots, sweetheart? You sure are laying it on thick, you don’t have to flatter me just because I helped you out.” You can’t help but chuckle, trying to downplay how those pet names were starting to cause butterflies in your stomach and a flush to spread across your cheeks.

Stan stammers, flustered by you calling him out on his playboy schtick and you giggle, “Hey, I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.” You admit with a playful grin.

It’s his turn for his cheeks to glow and Stan can’t help the huge smile that spreads across his features, “Well, just so you know, I’m not just calling you those because you helped me out. I mean look at ya, you’re like a painting in a museum, begging to be admired.”

He can’t remember the last time he cracked a genuine smile.

“Well, I would like to at least know the name of the person showering me with all these compliments.” You chuckle, introducing yourself.

Stan hesitates as he is used to utilizing one of his many aliases, but somehow his real name rolls off his tongue for the first time in decades, “Stanley Pines.”

Just after his introduction, your co-worker comes to take over for the night shift.

“Well, Stanley, my shift is almost over. Smoking is allowed but please use the ashtray in the room. The ice machine is near the staircase to the second floor.” You say, slipping on your own jacket before making your way around the counter with your bag over your shoulder.

Stan had to admit it felt nice to finally be called by his actual name in years, a warm sensation filling his chest. 

Comfort.

He follows you out the door, room key in his hand, “Mind if I walk you to your car? It’s the least I could do for you helping me out.”

You smile and nod, “I would like that a lot.”

Bad to the bone, sick as a dog.

You know that I like, like you a lot.

Don’t let it stop.

Stan and you fell into a routine after your first meeting.

Like clockwork, Stan would visit you, keeping you company at the end of your shift after Tony had left for the day. 

Sometimes he would run a new sales pitch by you, workshopping it with you as you gave him honest but supportive feedback.

Sometimes he would just listen, leaning against the counter as you vent about a customer that was giving you a hard time at your other job.

Belly aching laughter would echo through the motel lobby, Stan’s quick wit matching yours. 

A dangerous dance of banter and flirtation grew bolder and bolder with each evening.

Somehow, the chemistry you had with this man that you still knew little about was more electric than anything you had ever experienced.

At the end of each night, Stan would walk out with you, opening your car door as you slid into the driver’s seat, leaving you with a good night and a wish for you to get home safely.

Tonight was the first time you fell out of the carefree routine.

Your fingers drummed against the counter, your palm cradling your chin as you stared at the clock with a pit in your stomach. An hour had rolled by since Tony had left for the day and yet there was no sign of Stan.

What if he had checked out last night after you had left your shift?

What if he was onto the next town without even saying goodbye?

What if something happened to him?

Your leg bounced up and down, trying to distract yourself with the book you had brought but to no avail.

One hour turned to two.

Two turned to three.

Losing hope at hour four, your eyes begin to flutter, resting your arms on the counter and deciding it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap. The bell up front would wake you up anyways.

Instead, you were woken to a warm hand shaking your shoulder. Your eyes shoot open and are greeted to the sight of a pair of battered, bloody knuckles on your shoulder.

Instinct kicks in, your hands grabbing the bat that rested against your left leg underneath the desk and standing up with it raised over your shoulder. 

“Whoa, whoa, toots! Put the bat down, it’s just me!” Stan explained, putting his hands up as he took a cautious step back.

You blink, seeing Stanley standing in front of you, his knuckles looking roughed up and a pretty gnarly cut near his eyebrow. He looks disheveled, wearing just a thin white t-shirt that has splotches of dried blood dotted across it and a pair of dark jeans.

You put the bat down immediately, your worst fears confirmed as you quickly step around the counter, “Stanley, what the hell happened to you?” You say, voice full of concern. Your hand reaches out to cup his jaw to assess the damage, and he almost melts against your warm touch.

God, is this what an angel looks like? He wonders, admiring your features up close despite the furrow in your eyebrow.

“Got in a bit of trouble but I got myself out of it. I’m okay, sweetheart.” Stan attempts to reassure you, trying to play it cool though he had to admit this last run-in with Rico and his goons was a bit too close for comfort.

“Stanley, you’re hurt… take a seat, I’m gonna go grab a first aid kit.” You sigh, your lips in a tight line. Stan doesn’t argue, taking a seat in the leather chair. His thumbs twidle together, feeling like he was a kid again, waiting in the principal’s office to get lectured.

You come back with a tiny first aid kid and take a seat on the table in front of him, cracking it open. You start first on the swollen cut near Stan’s eyebrow, tearing the packaging off the alcohol wipe and leaning forward. “It’s gonna sting…” You warn him.

“Oh please, I just took a beating, I’m sure a little wipe isn’t gonna - Ow! Motherfucker!” Stan curses loudly, wincing as the pad hits his fresh wound. You pull back, your eyebrow raised in amusement, “You were saying?”

“Alright, fine… just be quick with it.” Stan mutters, his arms crossed over his chest in defeat. He winces as you carefully dab across the wound, making sure to clean up the dried blood on the edges that had clung to his eyebrow. While you were cleaning up his wound, your eyes couldn’t help but drift down to his toned forearms that were littered with hair up to his biceps that were accentuated by the tight fabric of his tee.

Your eyes meet Stan’s, an amused grin across his face despite the pain. “Enjoying the view, toots?” You huff in annoyance, trying to ignore how your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you press the alcohol wipe more firmly against his wound as payback.

“Ow!”

The harsh lecture he was anticipating never comes. 

Instead, as you finish bandaging up his knuckles, you gaze up at him with a sad look in your eyes, “I’m just glad you’re okay… please be more careful.” 

Stan nods, “Sorry to worry you, toots.”

He had a cigarette with his number on it,

He gave it over to me, “Do you want it?”

I knew it was wrong but I palmed it.

After your shift is over, you step outside, wishing your co-worker a good night and rolling your eyes in good-nature as they give you a knowing grin when commenting that Stan was outside waiting for you.

The cool evening air hits your face the moment you step out the door and the scent of cigarettes catches your attention. You turn to see Stan leaning against the wall, a freshly lit cigarette between his fingers as he takes a drag from it.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, you should be resting.” You say, approaching him.

Stan turns his head in the other direction, blowing a plume of smoke out from his chapped lips before turning back to face you, “I can rest all day tomorrow. Gotta walk you to your car, don’t know what kinda sleazebags are lurking around at this time.” 

“Aren’t you cold?” You pointed out, noting that Stan was still wearing his white t-shirt despite you sending him out to get a hoodie or sweater from his hotel room.

Not that you were complaining about the eye-candy.

Stan gives a casual shrug, “Not really, the cold out here is nothing compared to winters in Jersey.”

“New Jersey, huh? Didn’t realize you came all the way from the other coast.” You chuckle, leaning against the wall yourself as you watch Stan take another drag.

He almost chokes on the smoke as he inhales, realizing he shared another piece of himself that he had never shared with anyone in his years on the run.

Living life as a drifter, he tried to keep his interactions surface-level, knowing that he may have to pick up and run the next morning.

Yet somehow, you were breaking the walls he had crafted for years down.

Stan exhales the smoke before glancing over at you, “You know I still owe you for covering my room this past week? Is there any way I can make it up to you, sweetheart? Heck, I’ll even do chores around your apartment while you’re at work.”

You pause, mulling over the offer. You had never expected Stan to pay you back, wanting to help him while he was still trying to get back on his feet. 

“Honestly, Stan, you don’t have to pay me back. It’s fine.” You insisted but Stan’s stubbornness began to show through.

“At least let me take you out to dinner or buy you a drink. I’ll give you tonight to mull it over and l expect an answer tomorrow.” Stan says with a sense of finality.

You can’t help but chuckle at his stubbornness, “Alright, alright… but you know I won’t be here tomorrow. I’m covering a day shift for one of the other bartenders.”

Stan pauses before reaching into his pocket to fish out his pack of cigarettes. Your eyebrow raises in confusion and he looks up at you, “You got a pen?”

You open your bag, digging through its contents before retrieving a pen and handing it over to him. He messily scrawls something on the tiny stick before passing it and the pen back to you, his fingertips lingering as they brush against yours.

You look down at the cigarette, seeing a clumsy string of numbers written on it.

“That’s the direct dial to my room.” Stan explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Give it a call when you get off tomorrow and let me know.”

You slip the cigarette into your purse, “I will.”

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere! Platonic! Batfam x Mermaid! Reader Pt.2

The next morning had come, and before you even had a chance to leave your bed, you were surrounded by your family, Zatanna, John Constantine, and Aquaman.

"Why are you all here?!" You scream, throwing a pillow at your father.

"We brought some people to help you," Dick says, sitting on the left side of the bed and holding your hand.

"Help? Why would I need help? I feel fine!" You retort, realizing your brothers have gotten closer to your limbs. "No. No!"

"Hold her down! Y/N, I'm sorry but we're trying to help!" Tim exclaims, holding your right arm down as Jason and Damian hold down your legs.

Zatanna points her wand at you, speaking a couple of words backward, then a ball of water comes at you, completely soaking you and your bedsheets. You transform into a mermaid and scream in frustration.

"Wow, never seen that before. So, little lassy, how did'cha get like this?" Constantine asks, examining your body.

You were in no mood to answer questions. You wanted everyone to leave you alone. You swing your tail at Jason, sending him flying into the barred windows. Damian sees your tail about to hit him and ducks at the last minute.

"Sister, stop it! We're trying to help you!" Damian exclaims, trying to break free of Tim and Dick's hold.

"Hold her still. I've got a sedative in case things get rowdy," Bruce says, pulling out a needle. "It's ok, this won't hurt a bit."

Bruce straddles you while Tim, Damian, and Dick hold you down. You feel the needle pierce your neck, accompanied by the liquid entering your bloodstream. You try to struggle more, but the drug has taken hold of your body so quickly you feel relaxed.

"Shh...there you go. No need to be upset anymore. Just relax in your big brother's arms," Dick coos, kissing your forehead.

"Do whatever analysis and experiments you need to. She shouldn't be able to do anything erratic besides speak for a while," Bruce says, sitting beside your tail.

"Ok, so, as I was saying, you remember how you got like this?" Constantine asks, summoning a book.

"I took a swim in a body of water in a cave while the full moon was out and there were a bunch of sparkles," You laugh, cuddling into Dick's chest.

"Good girl, Y/N. You're almost done," Dick says, rubbing your back.

"Actually, we're all done. I know exactly what happened, magic-wise. We see a couple of cases like hers in Atlantis every so often," Aquaman says, motioning for the adults to leave the room.

"Take care of your sister," Bruce states, walking out of your room with Aquaman, Constantine, and Zatanna.

"Damn that girl's tail can pack a punch, " Jason grumbles, finally getting up from the floor.

~~~~~~~~~

"We more commonly see her cases in Australia and Ireland, but basically, she turned into a mermaid because that body of water was contained in a piece of the moon rock that fell to Earth. The moon's energy gives the water the magic that transformed her into a mermaid. I don't know if you knew yet, but she should also have a variation of hydrokinesis powers by now, like hydro-cyrokinesis, hydro-thermokinesis, gelidkinesis, and or substanciakinesis. Also, it would be both for her and your family's benefit if she didn't go out during a full moon from now or touch water during a full moon, or even look at the full moon's reflection. Bad things always happen whenever people who were turned by the moon look at the full moon." Aquaman explains, making Bruce sigh and sit down at the table.

"Do you know which powers she specifically has?" Bruce asks, pulling out a notepad and pen. "More importantly, is there a way to fix this?"

"Sorry, Bats. It's totally random what powers she has. But usually, if she were transformed in the water alone, that means she would most likely have multiple. You'll just have to wait and see," Aquaman replies, remembering the mermaids swimming around Atlantis. "I have heard of a way to reverse the transformation, but I'm not entirely sure if it'll work. Usually, when one of my people ask, the mermaids get touchy about the subject and refuse to answer."

"Well, thanks for coming to see if you could help my daughter anyway. We'll keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't get into trouble."

Constantine, Zatanna, and Aquaman leave Wayne Manor, letting the Wayne Family deal with you.

"Dick, how is she?" Bruce asks, walking into your room.

"She's absolutely adorable when she sleeps," Dick coos, resting your head on his chest with his arms cradling your body. "She must be tired from all that resisting."

"Aquaman gave me some bad news. First, she can't see the full moon or touch water during one. Second, we have to look out for her exhibiting powers, and third, there's a possibility we can't reverse the transformation process," Bruce says, sitting beside your sleeping body.

"Wait, the slushie. Do you think she used her powers to make the drink a slushie?" Dick questions, moving your body to the bed.

"Possibly. We can't be sure because we didn't catch it on the house cameras. But, maybe she'll do it again if we leave her alone in the room," Bruce theorizes, motioning for everyone to leave your room.

Once they're outside your room, the alarm from the Bat Computer rings, signaling the regular night of crime fighting.

~~~~~~~~~

"Tim, stop being a perv and watching Y/N sleep," Jason taunts, seeing Tim smile at your sleeping form on his phone.

"I-I am not being a perv! I'm just making sure she's ok. She was so mad at us earlier, I was worried," Tim replies, taking a screenshot of the camera frame. "Aww, look. She's waking up."

You wake up, and feel around for Dick. Once you realize your brothers are gone, you stare at the bars on your windows. You reach your hand out, making the bars freeze.

"Batman, you need to look at this!" Tim exclaims, motioning for Batman to look at the camera footage. "She just froze the bars on the windows."

The Batfamily surrounds Tim and watches the footage, as you use your second hand to make water from the bathroom flow into the bedroom and form into a ball. You freeze it and send it flying at the windows, breaking the bars and glass.

"We need to get back to the manor. Now." Batman says, jumping off the building they were on.

By the time your family returns, you are long gone into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

It felt amazing to actually swim and be free in the water. You loved the way your hair moved and the way you were able to become an underwater torpedo instantly. Who needs a car or plane when you could swim all the way to Hawaii in minutes? More importantly, you wanted to visit some friends. You see Connor Kent and Wally West talking on the top floor of the Titans Tower, and you launch a small ball of ice at the window. They jump up, startled, and look out the window to see you in the water, waving at them. They come running out with Beast Boy and stare at you.

"Y/N, why are you in the water?! Tim told us you were allergic to water and that the simplest touch would break you out into rashes!" Wally exclaims, walking near the water's edge and extending a hand out for you.

You giggle and pull him into the water. You show off your tail, and his mouth is left agape.

"What the actual fuck? When? How?" Wally shouts, pulling himself out of the water.

"A little magic accident. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi before my family finds me again," You say, dipping below the waves, and speeding off to your next location.

While you were enjoying being a mermaid, your family was tracking your location with the tracker they injected into your arm when you turned 13.

"I can't believe she moves so fast as a mermaid. She managed to go from Gotham to Titans Tower in like 10 minutes. Usually, that would be an hours-long plane ride," Tim comments, following the red dot on his speedboat navigation system.

"Would you stop geeking out about how cool it is that she can swim fast? She could get attacked by some animal or get caught in a fishing net," Jason scolds, increasing the speed on his boat.

"I have to agree with Jason. She's in danger," Damian says, stopping his boat. "She's here!"

You pop your head out of the water, seeing your family on speedboats ready to chase you down.

"Y/N, come back home! You can't live in the ocean forever!" Bruce yells, preparing his dart gun.

You see what he's about to do, and you make a ball of frozen water, sending it flying in your father's direction. He dodges the ball, and it crashes into Dick's boat, breaking apart.

"Y/N, behave yourself! Just because you're stuck this way doesn't mean you can act out like this!" Bruce yells, looking at you making more frozen balls.

You hurl them at your family, sending them into the water. You twist your hand, preparing to send them home soaking, only to feel a presence behind you. You count your family members and notice Tim is missing.

"Shh, don't fret. This is what's best for you," Tim whispers, sticking a tranquilizer dart into your neck, making you pass out in his arms.

"Nice move, Drake. Now, let's load her onto one of our boats and get her home where she belongs," Damian comments, pulling himself out of the water and onto his speedboat.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you wake up, you feel your body being cradled by a warm figure. You look up and see Dick holding you in his arms, while he's on his phone.

"That was very cruel of you, you know. Lying to us about your powers, breaking out, and then exposing your secret to the Titans. It was all entirely too dangerous. You could have been caught, and no one would've been able to save you," Dick scolds, not even looking at your face. "But, we've found a solution for this pesky problem of yours. You won't be leaving this house anytime soon, and you'll be staying in your new and improved room. You're going to love it."

You look around, noticing that the only light coming from your room is the numerous lamps and overhead lights. There is no window in sight, and the ceiling has a holographic projector to mimic the real-time images of the sky.

"What happened to the windows?" You ask, getting off the bed and feeling around the wall. "What did you do to the windows?!"

"We got rid of them. We couldn't take the risk of you escaping again or looking at the moonlight," Dick answers, walking behind you and giving you a hug. "Don't worry, we made the ceiling the perfect copy of the sky, so you're not missing out. You'll never have to worry about seeing the sky again. Not only that, but you can stay here with us forever. Isn't that wonderful?"

"No. This isn't right. I don't want to be a prisoner here," You cry, feeling tears go down your cheeks.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok, you'll be alright. You'll have all the entertainment you want. You'll never need anything from outside ever again."

"No...no.."

Dick's arms remain on your body, making the room feel claustrophobic. There's nothing but walls, stone cold, concrete walls, and the little light you have is artificial. Dooming you to a fate of never seeing the sunlight again, or a life outside of Wayne Manor.

[notsunnyowo]

The love of my life

Word count: 833

Summary: You can't live in a world without Satoru, but if he's forced to live in a world without you, you hope that he can still live his best life.

Content: Death, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Slight canon divergence, Satoru Gojo x Female! Reader (AFAB)

If you die. I die.

You looked at your classmate, a look of pure admiration etched on your face as a delicate smile danced along your features. The sound of your laughter filled the classroom as you chuckled at some funny joke Satoru had said just now.

The four of you were layzing around in your classroom, waiting for Yaga-sensei to come and tell you about your respective missions for the day. And Gojo being Gojo decided the best way to pass the time was to goof around a bit. Cracking dumb jokes, one after the other, face lighting up each time he heard your melodic laugh.

But if I die.

Satoru stood in front of your lifeless body, his face as pale as a ghost and his pristine eyes filled with unshed tears. He didn't want to stare at the horrid sight of your blood covered body, yet he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

No.. This wasn't real.. It couldn't be..

He felt a lump forming in his throat as he stood there, completely motionless.

This was just some sick joke right..? Yeah..! Any moment now, you were going to get up and chuckle at his stupidity for believing that you had actually died..

Right..?

Get enough sleep.

Satoru laid in his expensive armchair. His blindfold loosely covering his eyes as he slept, his arms folded neatly in front of his broad chest that rose and fell with each and every slow breath he took.

His breathing wavered for a moment, as the large man shifted in his seat, before slowly sitting up. His head turned to the side of his chair as his back hunched slightly and he leaned down to the side to grab something.

A small paper bag he had set down on the floor.

Eat properly.

Satoru picked the bag up into his large hands and set it down on his lap before opening it and taking out a small box filled with his favorite flavor of mochi.

Taking out a single piece, he opened his mouth and took a bite of it, his jaw moving in a circular motion as he chewed the sweet treat. It's sweet and savory essence filling his mouth and coating his taste buds.

Meet new people.

Satoru's ears perked up as he glanced in the general direction of the door in his office, just in time to see it swing open and his students barge in. Happy smiles etched on all their faces.

"Gojo-sensei!" Yuuji called out, raising a hand to his teacher and giving him a big, cheerful grin.

"Why is it that you've called all of us here for?" Megumi grumbled, looking at the blindfolded man with a slight look of annoyance.

"Are we going on another mission?" Kugisaki asked, as she spun her hammer around in-between her fingers.

Live a happy life.

Satoru smiled as he looked at his students, before finally speaking up. "Just wanted to share some mochi with my precious students." He said, his voice low, yet gentle.

The offer caused a set of confused glances to be thrown his way from his students.

"You really called us here, just so we could eat some mochi?" Megumi inquired, raising a brow.

"Seems about right." Kugisaki took the liberty of answering the dark haired boy.

"Why are you saying that like it's a bad thing?" Yuuji looked at the two of them, clearly not bothered by the fact that they all rushed to their sensei's call, just for it to turn out to be him wanting some company. "It's free food! And delicious food at that!" The boy grinned, eagerly taking a mochi for himself.

And when you think of me occasionally.

"Hey, Gojo-sensei.." Satoru let out a low hum, in response to Itadori's question. "Who's this girl with you in the photo?" He asked, pointing a curious finger to the small picture frame set on his teacher's desk.

Satoru looked over to the frame and smiled gently. "She was my classmate back in high school." He said, his voice filled with melancholy.

With gentle motions, he reached for the picture frame and took it in his hands, looking at it as if it were the most precious item he owned.

Remember that..

"She was also the first girl I ever fell in love with." He added, although barely loud enough for his students to hear. "The only person I ever fell in love with." He smiled fondly at the photo, his thumb gently brushing over the girl's face in the picture.

"How come you've never mentioned her before?" Megumi found himself asking, his interest now peaked. He walked over to the Yuuji and glanced down at the photo.

"Whoa, she's so pretty..!" Nobara interrupted, stepping in-between her two classmates to get a better look at the photo.

I will love you.

"Yeah, she is, isn't she?" Satoru spoke, looking at the photo with a gentle adoration. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen.."

For eternity.

Author Note:

I'm back and totally NOT dead! (Just lazy) But I wanna get back to writing again and good lord do I have a lot of requests!

Thank you all sooo much for sending so many requests, I really hope I'll be able to give y'all what you're looking for!

Requested to be tagged: @21aurora