#her god damn motorcycle

[luxtea-07]

if they didnt want me to make a sonadow fankid, whyd they make it so damn fun?

[aromanticasterisms]

EVERYTHING IN THE TRAILER LOOKS SO COOL WHAT THE HELL

[littlelamy]

you were right!

a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.

“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.

He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.

Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”

Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”

The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.

“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.

He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.

Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.

The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”

Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.

He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”

There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.

“What happened?”

Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”

You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”

A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”

He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”

A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”

You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif

[priscilladawn]

Please just listen to me…Older retired Leon, living in a small suburban neighborhood that brings peace to his mind after endless years of working for the DSO.

There’s not much going on in Leon’s life anymore. Just…A boring retired old man. Sometimes he would go to the sleazy old bar in town, take a pretty girl to his bed all before finding her gone the next morning.

That was pretty much the only excitement in Leon’s life, oh, and his beloved motorcycle of course. Definitely expanded his collection with a few old and new bikes, just for some variety of course.

Being retired was something he of course knew would happen one way or the other…But Leon didn’t expect to be thrown out so soon. All because a few old achy bones of his and now he was “done”? He was fine. But nonetheless, what could he do now? His life would be forever dull…Not until you showed up.

A sweet little thing, just like the ones at the bar, but even better, moving into the old cottage colonial style home right next to him. Your hair silky and soft, dressed so feminine and sexy, all dolled up and pretty for the big move! No ring, and no husband in sight. Perfect for Leon to just pounce.

Leon just had to offer help. How could any man allow a beautiful doll like you to carry and lift all those heavy boxes? Plus, it let him show off those god sculpted muscles of his. You just had to be stubborn and remind him that you totally can’t can do all of this yourself!

By the end of the day, every single piece of furniture was unpacked and assembled, boxes thrown out, and all interns were in their designated place. Leon had even known a few little things about you! Like how you moved to accept a new teaching job, you recently graduated, you have two little adorable ragdoll cats that wouldn’t leave him alone while he was putting together your bed frame.

Days had gone in a bliss. Small knuckles hit against the wooden door, causing a grumble to fall from Leon’s lips. Probably those god damn salesman…He’d show them how to make a real fucking sale this time if they didn’t—

“I-I made you cookies!”

Does anyone want a series? Please let me know! I want to work on a fic/drabble series but want to please all of you as well! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

[aamircoeur]

kissing, i hope they caught us ー Ken Sato.

wherein ken sato finds himself waiting for the calls of his fuck buddy.

SMUT, read at your own risk. one-shot. female reader, UNEDITED.

"same time, uh, tomorrow?" ken said from behind you. you slipped into your blouse and turned to him, who was currently topless and fastening his belt, his hair pointed in all directions.

"tomorrow? we just fucked, ken." you laughed light-heartedly. "i'm a busy woman."

kenji looked at you while he sat at the edge of his bed, rubbing his shoulder. "n-next week?" he offered.

you sighed and smiled at him. finishing the top button of your blouse, you walked towards him and grabbed your purse from his nightstand. "i'll call you." you said, kissing his cheek as goodbye.

ー

liar, kenji said to himself. it has been well over two weeks since your last interaction, and he has been anxious to meet you again, to feel you. to touch you, to have you on your kneesー god damn it.

sighing deeply, he ran his hands through his jet-black hair and slouched on his couch. he had his phone on his couch with his tabs revealing your, [name] [surname], japan's hottest supermodel, social media accounts. he had his television opened and has been playing various movies over the past hours, but he seemed to pay no mind to them with how often he was refreshing your accounts for the hope of any updates of your whereabouts.

shit, he even stooped to a new low, stalking multiple fan accounts of yours on twitter to see if they had any clue. the opened laptop in front of him was stuck to his direct messages with you, revealing how he replied a thumbs up to your message saying, "thank u for tn ;)".

he felt stupid. should he have been more open? maybe he should've responded differently. who even responds to a girl with a thumbs up? real mature, kenji.

he was anxious, bouncing his leg as he kept sighing over and over. why weren't you messaging him? he was the ken sato. did he kiss you too hard? did he fuck you too roughly?

leaning back into the couch, he ran his hand once more for the nth time this evening. he was overthinking. he couldn't have all these thoughts with the upcoming tournament that he's been looking forward to for the past two months. but lately, all he seemed to think about was how good it felt to be inside you.

sighing again, ken had his phone in his hands and went back to refreshing your account. to his absolute surprise, you had a new post on instagram, uploaded sixteen seconds ago. it was an image of you with a bra that fit you so perfectly, baggy jeans that rested on your hips, and underwear that seemed to grip on your waist with the brand's name on the garter.

the baseball player stared at his phone with a blank face before knitting his eyebrows together and groaning, adjusting his pants with the sudden uncomfortable feeling. this is bad.

—

"my scan tells me that your blood circulation has been increased at a certain area—"

"i did not need a scan, mina!" ken gritted, frustrated. "i'll be back late!" he shouted as a way to drown out whatever mina said next as he shut the front door on his way out. ken walked towards his motorcycle, fitting into his black helmet before quickly driving to a nearby bar.

upon arriving, kenji took off his helmet and gave it to the valet parker, with along with his keys and some cash. "take care of her, alright?" ken said, referring to the bike. the valet nodded. kenji held the sunglasses that he hung on the front of his shirt and put it on before walking towards the entrance.

seeing the long line behind the stanchion, kenji smirked and walked towards the bouncer who blocked him from coming inside with his arm. "name?"

ken raised an eyebrow and lowered his sunglasses. "sato." he said. the bouncer gaped and got his arm out of the way and opening the doors for him instead, apologizing for not recognizing him earlier.

ken was met with beaming lights within the darkness of the place, the air smelling of alcohol and the loud sound of the song that the dj played bouncing off the walls. ken took a deep breath in and sighed, and after a few steps in he was immediately accommodated by a blonde hostess, handing him a glass of champagne before latching on to his arm as she giggled and guided him to an empty table.

it was already past midnight and ken surprised himself by not drinking to his limits this time. there were women holding on to both of his arms, some handing him fruits while one held the bottle for his drink. he was also accompanied by strangers that seemed to need a breather. "hey, pretty, care to get me another glass?" kenji said to the brunette on his left with a sly smile.

the brunette giggled and pulled down her skirt before standing up "sure thing, ken." she smiled.

"there's no need for that, sweetie." he heard someone say from behind them. almost immediately, ken sato turned his head and his eyes widened at the sight of you. fuck. it was you. "hey, kenji. what brings you here?" you smiled and walked around the couch and made your way towards him. everyone at the table stood up and walked towards another unoccupied table, knowing the protocol.

"[n-name]?" ken stuttered, his hand running through the side of his hair as he fixed his posture. you giggled at him and took the brunette's former seat, taking the almost-empty tall glass of champagne that he held and sipped on it. "what, what're you doin' here?" he slurred, tipsy.

"oh, nothing. just here with some friends." you smiled and placed the glass to his lips, making sure that it was the same spot that you drank from. taking a deep breath, ken leaned into the glass and sipped, some slipping from the corners of his mouth. you placed the glass down to the table and wiped the trail of champagne on his chin. kenji only stared at you. flustered, you looked down at his hands and held it. "i missed you, kenji." you said.

kenji stared at you. he forgot how beautiful you were. how could he ever forget that?

kenji held your hand and interlocked your fingers. "yeah, well, you didn't seem to wanna let me know that little fact of yours over the last two weeks." he said, his cheeks reddening as he avoided eye contact.

you laughed at his shyness and held on to his hand tighter. "'m sorry, baby." you smiled and leaned in to his ear. "but, i can let you know just how much i missed you, baby." you whispered. "my place?"

—

it has been yet another two weeks since your last night together. kenji was one week into the tournament that he has been preparing for and he has been busy as ever. coach shimura has confiscated their cellphones to give the yomiuri giants their well-needed concentration on their trainings and game days.

after a weekend long of back-to-back games, coach shimura has finally given back the players their phones to reward them of their zero losses so far. upon unlocking it, kenji was met with multiple messages from you, telling him how much you miss him, telling him how good he looked in the field, letting him know of what you did while thinking of him . . .

he was flushed after reading everything, and in between messages he also received missed calls from you, and one voicemail.

"baby, can you call me back? it's so lonely in my mansion."

taglist: @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @ttulipwritezz

[chrollohearttags]

nobody knows • portgas d. ace

another drabble for sneaky link/ex boyfriend ace bc I have one functioning brain cell and all of it is focused on him atm teehee 🤭

wc: 1.8K

more infidelity (y’all both still AIN’T SHIT 😭 reader got that dog in her I’m sorry), straight porn, modern au, black fem reader, phone sex/sexting, squirting, oral sex, calls reader bitch, a eating + anal, recording, backshots, rough sex, heavy breeding, idk what else will come out

he’s so ooc in this and I don’t give a fuck (I’m ovulating and stressed w life + therapy is too expensive)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nobody knows why you and ex-boyfriend!ace broke up in the first place. Honestly, it seemed like such a waste…three long years down the drain with nothing to show for it but the two of you left in shambles. Friends and family consoling you both as you learned to navigate life without one another. (Y/N), moving on fairly quickly with the son of one of your dad’s friends..a byproduct of military nepotism and the very antithesis to what Ace was. A stiff working a cushy desk job and reaping the benefits..pushing papers and always playing it safe. He was very kind, sweet and damn near ideal in every sense of the word. Not too much of a drinker, a partygoer or anything of the sort but he always took you on dates. All of your girlfriends liked him well enough, thinking that he more matched your speed than the thrill seeking, goofy, chaotic daredevil that was ex-boyfriend!ace. Who rode motorcycles and climbed mountains in his spare time, when he wasn’t holding life by the tips of his fingers as an EMT. Covered in tattoos, he looked like such a quintessential, stereotypical ‘bad boy’… “God, (y/n). I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy. He’s a loser, through and through.”

However, what nobody knows..is that you never truly left him alone! He was your ideal match and you couldn’t shake it. You could actually laugh, joke and make mistakes with him. There was no need for faux perfection and lies. You saw each other for who you really were.

Nobody knows that while you’re at work, he’s constantly sending you filthy messages to get you aroused and worked up. Making you chew your lip and the tip of your pen as you twirl in your chair..reading how he’s going to make sure you feel it in your stomach the next time you two link. Nobody knows he shamelessly sends you nut videos, uttering your name with the sexiest moans. Nobody knows that when you tell your assistant that the hour where you refuse any meetings is designated for you to choke on ex-boyfriend!ace’s cock in your cute little business attire..loving the way those glasses hang off the tip of your nose as he pushes your forehead to his pelvis.

“Goddamn, babe..I knew I couldn’t quit you..you’re eating my dick up so good.”

“It’d taste even better if you let me come on it first.”

loving that you were willing to abandon all of your morals for him so easily. Nobody knows about the second phone you keep stashed away in your glovebox just to call him late at night when your new man is sleeping or working overnight and you want some company..

“Can you please come over? I miss you..he won’t be back tonight. I promise.”

“Of course, baby. Anything for you..I’ll always come running when you tell me.”

or in need of a good orgasm because that dummy couldn’t give you one if you handed him a roadmap to the clit! With ex-boyfriend!ace on the other line talking you through it with that deep voice and lewd commands.

“Oh my gosh, pretty girl. Did you call me just so you could touch yourself to the sound of my voice? You’re so cute..” making you FaceTime him because he wants to see the mess he helped create.

nobody knows that whilst you're out at dinner with your new man, alongside loved ones as he boasts about how he knows you’re the one and how you guys make such a lovely couple, (y/n) is daydreaming about ex-boyfriend!ace riding you on the back of his Suzuki through the city, knowing the rush gets you turned on. That rather than dealing with an insecure little boy who felt intimidated by your looks and success, ex-boyfriend!ace would go drinking and partying with you, loving when you showed off your body because he wasn't worried about another man taking what was his. Nobody knows that you have a small tattoo of ex-boyfriend!ace’s name right above your private area. Hell, it's not as if your new man touched you enough to notice and when he did, the lights remained off.

When your girlfriends are divulging the dirt about their relationships and how envious they are of you. Claiming that you hit the jackpot with such a structured, well mannered guy who works a high paying job and always comes home to you. But what nobody knows…is that he could never replace the man you truly love. So much so, when you kiss him on the cheek that Friday evening before heading to the ‘airport’ for another business trip..you’re secretly meeting ex-boyfriend!ace in the top floor suite at a luxury hotel hours away from home where you two go every month to fuck each other's brains out for three days straight. Akin to addicts who can’t be satisfied, you rabidly devour one another until your bodies quit.

“I’ve waited all week for this…I’m so not sorry for how I’m about to fuck you.” ”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he corners you against a wall. Nobody knows that ex!boyfriend!ace has you face down on a mattress with your ass up in the air as his tongue explores both of your entrances. Practically seating you on his face to suction around that clit, flicking his tongue in and out of your tight cunt before prodding your asshole, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva on each of them. Because you wore that adorable little heart shaped plug to help prep you for the weekend.

“You taste so fucking good…especially when I know you’ll let me have it anytime I want.”

nobody knows that you’re somewhere gripping the sheets for dear life as ex-boyfriend!ace delivers the most insane backshots you’ve ever felt. Those perfectly round, thick cheeks ricocheting off of his lower half..the contrast in your skin and that pearlescent scream surrounding his shaft making the sight even better…ripping orgasms from your body with no shame because he deserves it. After all, you belong to him.

“That’s right..come on this dick, bitch. Give me what I want..” he still loves and respects you all the same. But ace knows you prefer rough, degrading sex far more than the mundane and vanilla. Especially when it was in short supply with your current situation. Even going as far as to place a foot on your head, tugging your arms behind your back so that he can really bury his cock inside of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee, just like that, daddy. ‘S so good!”

“You love when I dig you out like this, treating you like a little slut..’swear this pussy’s going to get me in some serious trouble one day. But I don’t care, I love you.”

rambling on as he feels you twitching around him for the third time, leaving splatters of warm juices each time; squirting immensely from the constant stimulation to your spot.

“Damn, you’re coming so hard, pretty girl. Is he not fucking you right?” Laughing before he could even get the very rhetorical question from his mouth. Leaning down to place a trail of pecks and licks on your spine to console you before placing you into a prone position. ”Of course not..nobody knows this body better than me. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” All but confirmed by the way you’re tightening around him..he can’t help but to grip your throat and steal sloppy kisses from you whilst he drills you into the mattress. “Nooo, babyyy. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good..oh my Goddd—“ placing his camera in your face so that he could have it for safekeeping..(and in case he gets wind of your man running his mouth about him again!) Making you call his name and scream it to the heavens. “Aceeee, fuck meeee..”

Nobody knows that you’ve been fucking for damn near an hour while your phone buzzes with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend and whatever little girl he’s deciding to entertain for the moment. As heinous as it was, you were just filling the void and you’d always find your way back to each other. Perhaps it was the thrill of sneaking around that kept this charade going. Either way, you weren’t giving each other for a long time and it’s so obvious why..no one else will do the freaky shit that you both crave so much.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your ass again..feels amazing.” glaring up at him with the most adoring gaze in your eyes and smile on your face as you proudly hold a vibrator to your clit..allowing him to stretch that opposite opening. Practically coming on spot when you began to show your gratitude for this pleasure…

“Thank you, daddy..using all my holes like this. I love it so much.” That much apparent by the tears pouring down your face alongside that toothy grin. Only he could give it to you so good, you begin to cry!

“Oh shit..of course, gorgeous girl. I’d do anything for you..anything to see my baby smile.” Including pinning you down by your throat and letting trails of saliva drip into your mouth. Even feeding you a couple slaps when you all but pleaded with him to treat you like an object.

nobody knows that on the sparse occasions when you have sex with your current man, he’s forced to wear a condom because you’ve discussed several times that you don’t want children and you’re not taking any risks. But ex-boyfriend!ace gets the privilege of feeling that hard cock sliding in and out of you raw..and to breed you as many times as he can muster! Letting load after load spill into your aching womb. Filling every hole with that dripping seed.

“You look so pretty stuffed with my cum, sweetheart. Just how I like it.”

nobody knows why you left ex-boyfriend!ace in the first place but you knew why you’d always come running back!

@violetxxvenom @shamelesshoefairy @lwop-kpop

[luvjunie]

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

- do not copy, plagiarize, or post my works onto a different platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

 “I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her.  “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?”  she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

���Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

[kittenscookie]

Little tid bits about the Modern Epic PJO Au, anytime I reblog this it's because I've added something.

• Luke is only "big brother" to half the camp, he is the other half's DAD in all but blood. Yeah, he has been parentified to hell and back.

• No one outside of Hermes Cabin carries cash on them at camp. Because it will be stolen

• Luke and Chris see "your money" as "our money". They see any thief off cash as borrowing—they'll pay you back by the end of the week

• Travis and Connor see "your money" as "my money". You will never see that cash again

• M.E Hermes is basically the unclaimed's foster father and he takes that role very seriously. He glares hard at anyone who's left their child with him longer than a month. And if you don't get that kid by the end of the sixth one it's his and you aren't getting it back.

• On that note, when Percy made the other gods start claiming their kids M.E Hermes nearly killed a couple of them—as stated above, anyone who stays in that cabin longer than six months is HIS. At that point "your child" is either "our child" or "his child". (God of thieves indeed, out here stealing custody)

• Annabeth and Malcolm have a giant flemish rabbit—M.E Athena didn't understand that the Easter bunny is a mascot the first year they celebrated and yeah, the Athena Cabin has a rabbit now—name suggestions would be appreciated. (Hermes hasn't let Athena live that mistake down)

• Any message (say a happy birthday, a card, money, gift, etc.) from a god to their claimed child has to go through M.E Athena because M.E Hermes refuses to send them. His visitation is already shaky and he's just not willing to risk when he's got his own children to think about.

• Whenever the Ares Cabin wins capture the flag M.E Ares sends enough money for his kids to go out to eat and/or to the arcade.

• When the gods were given the go ahead to see their kids M.E Ares kicked the cabin door down and rounded his kids up to go make up for loss time. He also got Clarisse a motorcycle.

• Clarisse has a greek warrior teddy bear that M.E Ares got for her when she was eight. The bear's name is Madea (after the witch) and Clarisse will kill you if you touch her.

• Aeolus is trans 🏳️‍⚧️

• When Luke starts college Chris takes over as the camp's "contraband kid", the torch will then be passed to Travis, who will then pass it to Connor.

• This should go without saying but Luke has an apartment. Sometimes he opens the door to said apartment to find like 9 teenagers just chilling in his living room.

"I thought I gave you that key for emergencies Percy?"

"The wifi at camp went out."

"...Fair enough! Everyone good with chicken alfredo for dinner?"

• Warrior of the Mind is a lullaby M.E Athena sings to her kids here

• M.E Ares did NOT approve of Chris, like whatsoever. Sometimes Chris catches him glaring at him from across camp.

• Annabeth and Luke met once before canon when Luke was seven and Annabeth was fresh out the brain. M.E Athena was in the area with baby Annabeth while M.E Hermes was out with Luke—he held baby Annabeth. He did not realize Annabeth was the same baby until M.E Hermes pointed it out while they were on their way to camp.

• M.E Hermes calls M.E Athena's children owlets

• Luke despises Fredrick, genuine visceral hatred. Fredrick hates him just as much

• M.E Hermes relationship with Apollo can best be described as It's-on-sight.

"I didn't know!"

"It was your damn Oracle! How didn't you fucking know!?"

• When Luke was sent on his quest M.E Hermes was not allowed to help him whatsoever, that goes for the rest of the gods as well. When on a quest you are completely on your own—which is why Hermes was so hesitant to send him

• M.E Athena is demiromantic and asexual

• M.E Athena has both platonic and romantic brain babies. She cannot truly control the brain babies, if you're close enough to her there's a 25% chance one's popping out.

• Annabeth was a tiny ass baby, like most of M.E Athena's children are small because the head is not big enough for a full sized infant, but Annabeth was small

I'll probably add to this as more comes to me :P

[avidfics]

Vi breaks out of the friendzone

Summary: Vi doesn’t have the best reputation. Perhaps that’s why you've shoved her in the friendzone for the past year. But your girlfriend just broke your heart, and Vi isn’t above using your emotional state to get closer to you. / Vi comes over to comfort you after your gf cheats and somehow you two end up in bed.  

R/N +TW: I haven’t written for Vi in sooo long. Also thanks to all those showing love to my lil blurbs :) Story has a bit of spice (kissing, oogling boobs, bit of foul language) and is f/f.

A car honk jerked Vi out of her jumbled thoughts and nearly caused her motorcycle to swerve dangerously on the two-lane road. Granted, she was a bit zoned out when she should’ve been focused, but she still threw the minivan behind her the middle finger before speeding off down the street at breakneck speed just to reach you. 

Ten minutes ago, she was laid up in bed with her latest fling when she saw “Bbygrl” flash across the caller ID of her cell. She damn near popped her shoulder out its socket by how fast she reached to answer the phone, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit how her phone was pressed against her cheek and shoulder even as her pussy hovered inches over a girl’s mouth, seconds from getting ate out. For a slim second she considered riding the the girl’s tongue while listening to the sound of your sweet voice since that’s the closest she’d ever be to the real thing. But her hips paused in midair at the sound of your heartbreaking sobs coming through the phone. In between the incoherent babble, she did hear the part where you found out your girlfriend had been cheating on you and had stormed out. Now you begged your friend for a ride home. 

As Vi’s motorcycle rounded the final corner at illegal speeds, she tried to suppress the smug grin tugging on her face. Your asshole of a girlfriend had finally royally screwed herself in the ass and with her massive mistake had left a gaping emotional opening that Vi had been dying to occupy ever since you two had become friends. An arrogant chuckle came from her lips as she skidded her motorcycle to a stop in the driveway, streaking the pristine concrete with large, obnoxious black tread marks. Fucking Maddie will have no doubt who it was who visited her house when she returned from wherever the hell she fled to. 

Vi’s fist pounded on the door before she shoved her hands into the pockets of her dark-rinsed jeans, a flicker of nerves creeping in at the thought of seeing her girl. Sure enough, her heart jackhammers in her chest at the sight of you opening the door in a white oversized shirt with a deep cut out that plunged into your cleavage, tiny itty bitty cotton shorts that left the globes of your ass peeking out, and white socks cupping your feet and up your calves. 

Her hand drags over her face just to stop herself from saying something highly inappropriate and downright filthy. 

“Yeah,” she thought, “fucking Maddie is not going to like what’s about to happen in her house.” 

“Violet!” Without a second thought you threw your arms around Vi’s neck. “I can’t believe she was texting some hoe from work for months.��� Emotionally, you were an absolute wreck after your girlfriend flipped out when you accused her of cheating. If it wasn’t for your dependable friend, Vi, you’d still be sprawled out on the bedroom floor as you used Maddie’s t-shirt you were wearing to soak up the onslaught of anguished tears. Vi had been a solid friend for over a year, and being wrapped in her arms immediately made you feel centered and taken care of in your vulnerable state.

God, Vi was happy she didn’t have an actual dick otherwise you’d see the full extent your vulnerable state was wrecking on her hormones. She was trying her best not to be a complete shit by being controlled by desire, but shit, you weren’t even wearing a damn bra. The harder you squeezed, the deeper she could feel your sweet tits pressing into her chest. Internally, she groaned with deep-seated agony as she gently pushed you away just enough to look at your face to determine if this delicious torture was intentional. If maybe there was the tiniest possibility that her shy girl was actually making a move.

With a swift scan, Vi knew it was only her deluded imagination. Through soft swollen eyes and wet eyelashes your wide doe-eyes glisten at her with such sincerity it made Vi have equal parts rage at your idiotic, soon to be ex, girlfriend and lust. 

Cute, choppy sniffles refocused Vi’s attention back to the fact that you’re both still standing in the entryway. “Let me get my shoes and we can get out of here,” you said. Slouched shoulders followed you as you walked quickly to grab your shoes but the slam of the door closing made you jump. Vi’s prowls over to you from behind, a playful glint reflecting in her magnetic blue eyes. “What’s the rush in leaving? Seems rude for us to leave fucking Maddie’s house without a goodbye gift.” Plus, you were adorably naive if you thought you’d get onto her bike with the tiniest bit of clothing covering your legs. 

A flood of relief washes over Vi at the girlish chuckle you give as you observe Vi who leisurely saunters through your girlfriend’s place, judging her decorations with an unimpressed attitude. “Her name isn’t “Fucking Maddie” it’s just Maddie,” you playfully scold.

“Sounds the same to me, babe. And can you explain why she has all this god-awful artwork in here?” The painting in question was a stark white canvas with a burnt orange triangle painted in the middle. “What fucking idiot would buy this pretentious piece of shit with actual money?”

Despite the situation, you start to giggle. “My guess would be the artist.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” It takes another second before realization dawn’s on Vi’s face. “Fucking Maddie is the artist? Of course she is.” The two of you fall against each other laughing so hard you both fold over. “So tell me, which one of her things should we destroy first? And don’t try to get out of it. We aren’t leaving her place until something is burned, torn, or vandalized. Your choice on which sweetheart.”

There was no way you’d have the heart to destroy your girlfriend’s house. You were scandalized at the mere thought. “Violet, that’s literally illegal! While I’m sure you’d make prison orange look unfairly hot, I’d rather not risk life behind bars.” 

A challenging grin crossed Vi’s face. “You think I’m hot?” The flustered look on your face was planting salacious ideas in Vi’s mind. Looking you square in the eyes, she took the flimsy waistband strings of your cotton shorts in her grip and began wrapping them around her palm until they resembled the white wrappings Vi used for boxing. Something at the bottom of your stomach quivered dangerously at the first tug your friend gave. “Wait, Vi, we have to leave. Maddie wouldn’t like you in her bedroom.” None of your pleads stopped Vi from striding into the bedroom, with poor you unwillingly in tow and kicking her boots off with careless abandon. 

Vi jaw tightens as she takes a look around the room and find how intwined you’ve become in fucking Maddie’s space. Even notes of your perfume hung in the air and teased her nostrils. With your strings still in her controlling grip, you’re pulled to the freshly made bed and shoved onto the mattress with enough force that you bounce a few times in the air, making Vi’s mouth tighten at the distracting sight of your thighs as they jiggle. 

Your wide, shocked eyes flare up at Vi, who stands above you with flexed arms crossed - unimpressed with the flare of attitude you’re showing. “Get it through your pretty but thick head. Your ass ain't leaving this room until you rage out and destroy something.” 

Muffled, you mock her crossed arms and pout a bit. Not nearly the imposing impression of your close friend. “Not everyone feels the need to ‘rage out’ when things don’t go their way. We had only been dating for a few months anyways. It’s not that big a deal that she messed with a new girl. I’ve kinda been letting myself go for a while, so it’s not her fault I guess.” Vi’s whole face recoiled at the complete bullshit sprouting out your sweet lips. And she wasn’t shy about saying it. “Bullshiiiiit.” she drags. “Fucking Maddie wouldn’t know how to treat an angel like you even if she was given a textbook for dummies. Don’t let her stupidity make you forget you were the best thing to happen in her miserable life.” 

Relaxing her arms, she squats down between your legs to get closer to you. “Besides you’re not the only one in this room who is annoyed with your girlfriend.” Your eyebrows furrow at that revelation. “Cut the act and don’t pretend like I didn’t ask you out way before you started dating the ginger.” Your mouth dropped at the sudden reminder. Vi just grinned, pressed your lips closed, and continued with a self-deprecating shrug. “I guess I cant fault you since my reputation is pretty terrible.” 

As effortless as slipping bait onto a hook, reeling in her simple-minded girl was almost laughably too easy. “Vi, God no, I could care less about what other people gossip about you.“ It took immerse grit to hide her delight at where this conversation was soon headed. “Yeah? How about you prove it for me?” 

You weren’t sure when Vi’s face appeared only centimeters away from your face, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was how tempting her lips were looking in the dim lighting of the room. None of this went unnoticed by VI’s fierce gaze, which was trained on your every expression and caught your timid nod. 

That tiny nod was like the gates of heaven opening up. A guttural “Come here” was commanded before Vi grasped your sensitive nape, pulling you to meet her eager lips. Your meek movements followed Vi’s assertive lead and soon became swept up in it’s consuming heat. 

Vi tried her best not to rush it, but it was like applying the brakes to a full-speed train—after all, these few moments of nirvana had been a year in the making. 

A tiny moan slips past your lips as she gently prys your lips open with her tongue, and whatever flimsy restraint Vi had built over months was shattered. Vi’s hands roam down your tingling spine, fingers pressing into the soft curves of your hips and ass as she shifts, rising to hoist you higher up the bed, all while your mouths try desperately to stay connected. 

The world tilts, a blur of heat and movement, and before your scattered thoughts can catch up, she’s there—her body heavy and solid as it settles against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. Vi watches your eyes screw closed tight as she strategically presses her jean-clad thigh up against your thinly covered pussy. Luckily, you don’t see the satisfied smirk that she quickly hides by pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck. 

“Pretty girl, you never picked which item to destroy. Guess, since I’m such a good friend I’ll have to help you, huh?” A few soft, “Nooo, Vi” are unconvincingly pleaded, but Vi silences them with the foreign touch of her thumb skimming the inside your itty bitty shorts. All of your conflicting thoughts are visible across your face, but your deep-seated need to have your friend’s fingers much closer to your needy warmth was the most demanding and broke through to the surface. “Please, Vi. Need you to touch me.” 

The only answer is a nonchalant “hum” as she glares at fucking Maddie’s flimsy, see-through t-shirt that you still wore without a damn bra. With a light touch, her fingertips trace up your sides and faintly round the outer edges of your breasts. All of the blood in Vi’s body shoots to her clit as she scoops up your boobs through the t-shirt and simply stares at them through the see-through material. Jiggling them like her new favorite toy. A heavy pause is felt in the air as Vi holds eye contact with you as she lowers her head and covers your nipple through the thin material and sucks. Vi moans at the full jerk response you give as your head is thrown back into the mattress. “Ah, ah, ah, shit Vi.” 

Mentally Vi was also cursing at the heady feeling of your tit in her mouth, even if it is through the cheap material. She dreamed of this for a whole freaking year. Just to prove it wasn’t a dream she had to pinch something… You yell a chorus filled with her name as your other poor, neglected nipple is pinched hard and completely black out when it’s twisted. You only hear the resounding wet, “Pop!” of Vi releasing your breast. “What a baby.” She taunts before switching and doing the same thing to the other boob. Between you withering against her thigh and her torturing your breast by the time her fingers lightly circle your soaked cunt it takes an embarrassing amount of seconds for your body to go into full-born shakes as you cum. 

On her knees above you, Vi smiles triumphantly at the visual of you sprawled listlessly across your cheating girlfriend's bed with Maddie’s t-shirt debauched with Vi’s saliva, lewdly showing your taunt, abused nipples. As you come back to the land of the living with bleary eyes, Vi has hopped off the bed, rummaging through your drawer. When you fully register what's happening, she’s slipping a fresh shirt over your head, tossing you a wink as she smooths out the fabric. “Leave the shirt here for your girlfriend. It’s beyond repair.”

[ladykailitha]

Eddie and Nancy

Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.

I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.

But may I propose instead: cousins.

Hear me out.

You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.

Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.

She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.

When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.

She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.

So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.

They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.

After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.

She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.

Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.

Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.

She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.

There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.

Childress.

She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.

She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."

She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."

Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."

Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.

"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.

"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."

Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.

There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.

"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"

Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.

"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."

"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."

"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"

"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"

It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.

She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.

Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.

Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.

She knows.

Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.

The end.

[tinyshyteacup]

Tw: cussing, tooth rotting fluff, Abel ages weird

Part 5

Whiskey & Wee Things - Part 6

The kitchen at Gemma’s was filled with a kind of noise that wasn’t loud, exactly—but it was constant. The thrum of conversation, the scratch of pens on paper, the rustle of plastic bags from dollar store party favors, and the bubbling hiss of the stovetop where Tara reheated leftover mac and cheese for Abel.

You sat at the table—cross-legged on the dining chair, a spiral notebook in your lap and a mess of colorful markers scattered around like spilled candy. Every few minutes you reached for one, scribbling out another note in soft, looping cursive:

Games: bean bag toss? Piñata??

Balloons—blue + white

Filip: help pick gift. He’ll argue, I'll win lol Scotsman.

Gemma had a cigarette balanced between two fingers, her glasses perched low on her nose as she flipped through a beat-up recipe book.

"I swear to God, if I see another gluten-free cake suggestion, I’m throwing this book in the damn firepit," she muttered, stabbing the page like it had insulted her personally.

You tried to hide your chuckle, a hand over your mouth. “I was just gonna suggest carrot cake...”

Gemma looked up sharply. “Carrot cake with frosting. Don’t start that rabbit food sh—”

"Gemma," Tara warned gently from the stove, one eyebrow arched.

"Fine, fine, no yelling around the little one,” Gemma grumbled, flicking ash into a coffee mug. “Even if she’s got some truly tragic cake opinions.”

You smiled—because you never minded Gemma’s bark, not when she said “little” with a kind of possessive protectiveness that felt like a hug.

You’d become one of hers as well as Filip's.

You were still adjusting to that.

"Okay,” Tara said as she dried her hands and came to join you, pulling a chair close. “So we’ve got the cake ordered. That weird kid from the bakery is doing it—"

"The one with the eyeliner?” Gemma asked.

"Yeah. He’s good. A little goth, but talented."

"Maybe we should invite him to facepaint," you offered innocently.

That earned you synchronized eye-rolls from both women.

"You’re lucky you’re cute," Gemma said.

You ducked your head, smiling again. The soft pink of your cheeks always gave you away.

There were papers everywhere.

Party supply lists. RSVP notes from club members’ families.

A list of allergy warnings scrawled in Tara’s neat, practical handwriting, as she wrote, hand stroking the curve of her growing belly absentmindedly.

Your own pages were marked up with doodles—stars and hearts and tiny dyna's with smiling couples on them. Gemma snorted every time she saw one, but she didn’t stop you.

At one point, Tara leaned over your shoulder, brushing her fingers over the list you’d written.

"You’ve got a really good eye," she said thoughtfully. "Even your handwritings tidy."

You blinked up at her, and shrugged. “I just wanted to make it nice. I know it’s hard with Jax being… y’know. Inside.”

Gemma glanced up at that, eyes narrowing, but it wasn’t anger. It was something older, heavier. A quiet grief she didn’t know how to carry unless it was wrapped in sass and cigarettes.

"You makin’ it nice is exactly what he needs, sweetheart,” she said, voice low and gruff. “What we all need."

You didn’t know what to say to that.

So you just nodded.

Gemma had her cigarette hanging from the side of her mouth, lipstick a little smudged as she argued over balloon colors with Tara.

Tara was trying to measure space in the backyard for folding tables.

You were now standing in the middle of it all, a little overwhelmed but smiling—holding up a kid-sized party crown with sparkly gold trim.

"I thought we could maybe… do a cake shaped like a motorcycle? Or a crow?" you offered quietly.

Gemma scoffed. “Jesus, crow cake for a one-year-old? He ain’t patched in yet.” But she grinned.

Tara laughed, brushing her hair back. “That’s actually cute. Let’s do it.”

You nodded, writing it down with your neat little handwriting, all curled letters and thoughtful spacing.

You were still adjusting to this life in a lot of ways—but you knew love when you saw it. And you knew Abel deserved a birthday, even if his daddy couldn’t be there.

Chibs was already halfway through a club meeting when you popped your head in the already open chapel doors.

"Hey, sorry, um… when you’re done, could you maybe—come to the store with me? I need help picking something out for Abel."

He blinked at you. Then looked around the table at the rest of SAMCRO,  the ones on the outside at least, who were exchanging amused glances.

"Prez, you gettin’ dragged into baby duty now?" The prospect with the neck tattoo teased.

Chibs gave him a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

When he stood and followed you out, his voice dropped low beside your ear. “Ye really want me shoppin’ for the wee lad?"

He smirked "I was thinkin’ baseball bat and a wee kutte.”

You laughed, a soft huff of sound. “He’s turning one, Scotsman.”

"Start ‘em young,” he muttered hand around your shoulders, as he let you lead the way.

You stood in the baby section of a department store, staring at a bright red ride-on tricycle, one with cartoon flames on the side and handlebars like a real motorcycle. You glanced up at Chibs with a grin.

"It’s perfect, right?"

Chibs squinted at it, arms crossed over his cut. "It’s no Dyna, but it'll do."

You nodded, pulling out your wallet. But his hand shot out to stop you.

"What d’ye think yer doin’, love?"

"I’m paying for a child's birthday gift" you said matter of factly.

He stepped in front of you, frowning. “Like hell ye are.”

"But I helped plan everything. It’s for Abel. I want to—”

"And I’m the bloody President right now. This—” he waved a hand around the cart, the toy, the list in your hand.

“—all of it? Shoulda been my job. Ye stepped up, mo chridhe, So let me do this.”

You swallowed a little, unsure. “But your doing everything for the clu…”

He softened then, the furrow in his brow easing. He stepped closer, calloused fingers brushing under your chin.

His voice dropped, heavy with affection, threaded through that rough Scottish accent.

"Ye take care of everyone, mo chridhe. Even when ye don’t have to. But it’s my turn now. Let me do somethin’, aye?"

You nodded, eyes norrowing, barely whispering, "Fine, you win this round, Filip"

He pressed a quick kiss to your temple and turned to speak to the cashier. “Put it all on this card, lass’. And throw in a pack of those wee party hats too.”

You stood beside the cart, your hand lightly resting on the seat of the ride-on trike you’d picked out for Abel. You were humming softly to yourself, mentally running through the list again.

Cake ordered

Check.

Candles packed

Check.

Party hats.

Check.

Chibs had just stepped away to grab a second pack of batteries—you could still hear him.

“every damn toy these days, bleedin’ power-suck—"

when a woman brushed past and stood behind you in the checkout line.

She gave you a once-over. Polite at first. But her eyes had flicked to the SAMCRO patch on Chibs' kutte, before she'd watched him step away and her whole expression changed.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asked, voice hushed, urgent.

"You don’t have to say anything, just nod or shake your head. If you’re in trouble, I can help you. We can go talk to someone."

You blinked at her.

Your heart stuttered for a second—not because you were afraid of Filip, never that—but because someone could look at him, the man who made you feel safer than anything in the world, and see a threat.

"What? No—no, I’m fine."

She pressed on, gentler now, still glancing toward the aisle where Chibs had disappeared.

"You don’t have to protect him. I’ve worked with victims before. There are signs. I can tell—he’s in a gang, isn’t he?"

Your throat tightened, not from fear but from something sharper anger.

Protective, loyal fury.

You straightened up, voice still soft but unnervingly steady.

"That man’s my family. He’s more gentle with me than anyone’s ever been in my whole damn life. Don’t you dare make assumptions just because he looks like someone you can’t understand."

The woman faltered, taken aback.

And that’s when Chibs returned—batteries in one hand, his usual easy swagger slightly dimmed as he caught the tail end of your sentence. His eyes flicked between you and the stranger, jaw tensing.

"Everythin’ alright, Love?" he asked, accent thick, gravel-edged.

The woman took one look at him and backed off, murmuring a hasty “Sorry, didn’t mean anything,” before she turned and practically vanished into the next aisle.

Chibs didn’t say anything right away.

He just stood there, gaze steady on you. Then he stepped in close—close enough to shield you from the rest of the world with the weight of his presence.

His hand came up to gently cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing along the edge of your jaw, like he needed to be sure you were alright.

"That motherfucker said you were in a gang," you mumbled, still flushed.

He snorted, rough but warm. "Aye. They always say that. To be fair, mo chridhe, I am."

You looked up at him.

"You’re my Old Man."

His scarred lips pulled into a slow smile, eyes crinkling. “Aye. I am. And if anyone ever makes you feel like ye’ve got to explain that, I’ll rip their tongue out through their arsehole.”

"Jesus Scotsman" you laughed before you could stop yourself, a little choked and watery around the edges. He bent and kissed your forehead softly—just once.

"You stood up for me," he said against your skin. "My Woman, all fire and no fear."

You whispered, “I’m not afaird of middle aged soccer Mom's.”

He leaned back, smirk lazy.

But his hand still rested on your waist.

Back at Chibs’ apartment later that night, you sat cross-legged on his couch, organizing party favors into little paper bags. He watched from the kitchen, sipping a beer, eyes soft.

"Never thought I’d see the day my woman would be wrappin’ up animal crackers and rainbow whistles."

"That sounds like a complaint,  Scotsman" you teased.

"Not even a little. Just tryin’ to commit it to memory."

He knelt down beside you then, hands resting on your knees.

You were quiet for a moment, watching him, the way he always seemed to see you—even when you were half-buried in tissue paper and glue dots.

"Ye make things feel normal, mo chridhe" he murmured, voice low.

You leaned in and gave his lips a soft peck, before returning to wrapping the present.

You’d barely had time to finish tying the final balloon before kids began swarming the yard, running wild with sticky fingers and frosting-smudged cheeks.

You were glowing—absolutely glowing—as you crouched beside a group of toddlers, carefully painting butterflies, tiger stripes, and sparkly blue stars across their eager little faces.

Chibs stood at the back, under the shade of a half-dead lemon tree, arms folded across his kutte. The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched you—soft smile playing under his rough exterior, cigarette burning low between two fingers.

You turned to call over your shoulder, voice sweet and a little breathless from laughing.

"Filip, can you grab the juice boxes? They're by the cake!"

He didn’t move immediately. Just let his eyes linger on you for a beat longer. Then with a long-suffering sigh—and a smirk that said he was absolutely not suffering—he stubbed the cigarette with his boot and wandered over.

"Aye, love. Juice boxes, is it? Not exactly my brand o’ poison, but I’ll make an exception for the wee ones."

He passed you the small crate of drinks, watching the way your hands brushed over his as you took them.

"Yer brilliant with ‘em," he said low, almost too quiet to hear. "Like ye were made for this."

You’d just finished brushing the last swirl of butterfly wings across a little girl’s cheeks when Abel’s tiny voice rang out across the yard.

"Paint Unca Chibs! Make him a dragon!"

You looked up, bright-eyed and caught off guard, brush still in hand.

Chibs, mid-cigarette, standing off to the side with a cup of juice.

Because you made him promise to lay off the beer just for today, froze. One brow rose slowly.

He turned toward the toddler like he hadn’t heard right.

"A dragon, wee lad?" he repeated, accent rough and amused. "Yer sure about that? Don’t wanna give the other bairns nightmares."

But Abel was insistent, bouncing on the balls of his feet, pointing at the spot where you sat with your little table of paints, grinning like it was the best idea in the world.

And you—cheeks a little flushed from the sun and attention—were already hiding your smile behind the back of your hand.

"I mean… I could, if you let me, Filip" you said, voice light, teasing. "Might be nice to see you a little more colorful."

Chibs snorted through his nose, shaking his head.

"Christ, yer all enjoyin’ this far too much."

But then he stepped forward, crouched down in front of you with a dramatic huff, the leather of his kutte creaking as he settled.

"Alright, Love. Let’s see yer worst."

"Careful, Scotsman ... I might oblige you one day" you chuckled.

He sat still as best he could while you leaned in close, your knees brushing his, your small hand on his jaw as you tilted his face gently toward the light.

The intimacy of it was not lost on him—especially not with the way your touch lingered longer than it had to.

He tried to keep still, but you could see the twitch of a smirk as you started painting the jagged lines of the dragon’s “scales” across his cheekbones.

You laughed—light and genuine. "You’re doing amazing. Very intimidating. Terrifying, even."

Chibs rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away, even as you dabbed a bit of green right near the edge of his eye.

"Y’know, I’ve taken shrapnel with more dignity than this."

"And now you’ve been painted into a lizard by a one-year-old’s command. You’ve truly seen it all."

Chibs grumbled under his breath the entire time.

"Can’t believe I let ye talk me into this…" He smirked.

"This better wash off, love. Don’t need the brothers seein’ me lookin’ like I got into a fight wi’ a box of crayons." He chuckled low, the sound reverberating through your fingers where they rested at his jaw.

When you leaned back to admire your work—bright green with flecks of gold, tiny red “flames” at the corners of his mouth—he tilted his head at you.

"So, do I pass muster then? Or do I look like a right eejit?"

You smiled, eyes wide with quiet affection.

"You look like a dragon who loves his nephew enough to be face painted by his Old Lady in front of the entire club."

That gave him pause.

His face softened—not in the theatrical, overdone way, but in that barely-there, Filip way. Just a slow exhale and a look in his eyes that said he was tucking the moment away somewhere sacred.

"Aye," he murmured, voice suddenly quieter, a little raw. "That I do."

His eyes became even softer when they caught the small giggles Abel kept letting out every time you dabbed more paint on his ‘Unca Chibs.’

And then—you did it.

You stepped back, grinned from ear to ear, and with one fluid motion, pulled out your phone.

Click.

The photo flashed to life on the screen your biker, deadpan, red-and-green dragon face in full glory, Abel laughing in the background.

Your smile was wicked-sweet. “The Scottish Dragon lives.”

Abel cackled.

Chibs tilted his head slowly, cracking his neck like a gunslinger from an old Western. His voice dropped, that Glaswegian rasp curling low with warning.

"Y’better run, mo chridhe."

You yelped, squealed, and took off across the yard, barefoot and laughing. Kids scattered like confetti as you dodged lawn chairs and streamers, clutching your phone like a trophy.

Behind you, the sound of boots pounding the grass, and Chibs’ voice rising above the music—

"Come here, woman!"

Tara cradling her belly without even thinking about it, the maternal instincts already blooming like spring. Her other hand covers her mouth as she stifles a laugh watching you run across the yard barefoot with all 6'2 of Chibs on your tail.

You darted around the sandbox, nearly tripping over a rubber ball, while Chibs closed in. You had just enough time to turn, grin cheekily, and—

“Noooo—!”

He tackled you gently from behind, arms wrapping around your waist to lift you right off your feet. You squealed again, thrashing half-heartedly as he spun you in a slow, laughing circle.

"Delete the photo."

"Never, Scotsman"

"Delete it, or I swear on my kutte—"

"You look adorable!"

He didn’t let you finish. His mouth claimed yours mid-laugh, stealing a kiss so fast it stole your breath right along with it.

His lips were warm, rough, but full of such affection it made your heart lurch, one of his hands danced across your jaw softly, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

When he pulled back, eyes dark and soft, you were still smiling—dizzy with it.

"Filip…" you whispered, cheeks flushed.

He grinned, one arm still firmly around your waist, voice thick with that unmistakable Scottish gravel.

"Aye? That’ll teach ye to paint dragons on a Scotsman, lass."

"I can’t believe he let her paint his face," Tara murmurs, shaking her head. "That’s… wow."

There’s awe in her tone—not because it’s outrageous, but because it’s Chibs. Grim, quiet, keeps-his-pain-in-his-pockets Chibs.

And now here he is, letting a five-foot-tall woman with a heart full of softness smear face paint on his scarred checks because a toddler asked and you smiled at him.

Tara glances at Gemma, then back at the scene in front of her, her voice soft.

"He looks happy. Like… actually happy."

She smiles, her hand resting over her belly again, eyes still on the two of you wrapped up in your own little world. "They’re good for each other. You can tell."

Gemma nudges Tara with her elbow. "You see that? That bastard’s grinning like he just won the lottery."

She pauses, takes a slow sip from her cup. Her tone shifts—lower now, more serious.

"Good for him. He deserves somethin’ good."

But then she looks your way again, that wicked glint returning to her voice.

"If he ever breaks her heart, I’ll rip his out. You know that, right?"

Tara nods and then, with a little breath of laughter, Tara adds "I’m definitely showing that photo to Jax when he gets out."

Afterward, as Abel came barreling back over to admire your masterpiece, squealing with delight, Chibs let the boy tug on his hand and parade him around the party like a prize-winning pet.

He played along, growling like a dragon and chasing a few of the kids with mock roars and exaggerated stomps—his kutte flapping behind him like wings.

You stood off to the side with Gemma and Tara, hands folded under your chin, heart near bursting. Watching him like that—this man who so many feared, who wore scars like armor, now laughing and crouching to tie a balloon to a kid’s wrist—it unraveled something warm and solid inside you.

And Filip?

He caught your gaze across the lawn.

He didn’t smile. Not fully. Just gave you that look—eyes soft, that subtle burn of something protective, something unspoken.

Like you were the reason he could be soft like this.

Like he’d wear a thousand shades of face paint if it meant making you smile.

[libbyfandom]

Let’s take a look inside Modern!Mizu’s Camera Roll! Featuring Reader and BES Characters (Companion Piece)

Screenshot of an undercut with long hair.

Screenshot of a wolf cut.

Picture of her tv screen showing her new high score at a video game. (To rub it in Taigen’s face that she beat his)

Her hand cupping the back of a pretty neck covered in hickeys.

Akemi death-gripping a trash can with her face buried into it as she hurls. The rollercoaster Mizu forced her on is in the background.

Selfie of her and her adoptive father at a baseball game. (She couldn’t get him to smile. He only hummed, which made her laugh)

Video of you asleep on her, your head on her shoulder and your hand curled up on her chest. Her fingers are gently brushing the side of your face for a minute, before your eyebrows pinch in sleep. You make a soft, stressed noise unconsciously. Her lips press to your temple for a long moment. “Shh shh shh.” Your expression relaxes again, and she goes back to gently stroking your cheek.

The full moon.

A video of Ringo coming up silently behind you and Akemi while you're standing in line at a coffee shop. You two turn around and nearly jumps out of your skin when you sees him. (He's always so silent)

Screenshot of a quote “How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become? -Doc Lubel”.

Her torn up jeans and bloodied outer thigh as she sits in the grass along the road, her crashed motorcycle in the background.

A video of her holding your wrists down in bed, oh so slowly pressing kisses all over your chest where she yanked your top up to your collarbone. Every once in a while she bites into your skin without warning, gripping your wrists tighter when your body arches and tries to twitch away with broken whines. She waits each time for you to stop moving, staring intensely up at you with your skin between her teeth, before she licks at the bite to soothe it away and restarts the cycle.

Video of her sitting on her bed practicing knife flipping.

Her hand holding a book titled "Waiting by the Front Door: Children of Parents with Addiction".

A close up of the price tag of the book "Waiting by the Front Door: Children of Parents with Addiction".

Saved selfie Ringo sent of the two of them on a hike.

Screenshot of a dinner reservation confirmation for two at a new restaurant downtown.

Video of Akemi in the middle of some rant in Mizu and Ringo’s living room. The darkness outside the window suggests it’s very late into the night. She gestures wildly at something off camera. “-and Taigen pees in the fucking shower-!” Taigen’s voice comes from somewhere off camera, loud and offended. “I aim for the drain!” You sit in the background behind Akemi, looking disturbed and distressed.

Screenshot of piercings. (For the wish list people are asking for)

A gif of a character going “Some god damn peace and quiet”. (For the wish list people are asking for)

The ocean.

Saved video Ringo sent of you two at the beach bonfire. You’re cuddled up into each other while sitting against a log, your legs overlapping hers. You’re both staring into the fire, absentmindedly playing with each others fingers where you’re holding hands on your lap. She’s never looked more relaxed.

You and Akemi in the backseat asleep on the drive back from the beach.

Saved photo you sent her of her and her adoptive father playing chess. Her brows are furrowed as she thinks over her next move, sitting properly with her hands in her lap. This is instead of how she usually plays with one leg propped up on her chair and elbow leaning on her knee when she plays with Akemi.

The one nice photo of just her and Taigen, posing in a big mirror at a dark, more upscale restaurant wearing suits.

Screenshot of receipt for two concert tickets on your birthday.

Ringo laying head down on a pile of finals notes in defeat at the library.

Screenshot of a text you sent of a grocery list.

A video in her “Hidden” folder that is 37 minutes long and requires a password that only she and you know.

Screenshot of the word “Bitch” in Barbie pink font.

You curled up on the couch fast asleep, wearing Mizu’s oversized college sweatshirt.

Saved photo Ringo sent of Mizu standing in the bathtub making a peace sign with one gloved hand as the other holds Akemi’s newly dyed and wet burgundy hair while Akemi is seen leaning over the tub so Mizu can rinse out the excess dye.

A picture of her hand holding an engagement ring nestled inside a green velvet box. She wanted Akemi’s opinion. So she’ll stop having an anxiety attack over what she picked.

[atarathegreat]

I'm Naked Here. Ken Ryuguji

Draken had been busy for a while. Day after day after day it was like he always had something that he had to do. Visiting his friends, helping Mitsuya, and then there was that whole month that he was gone while Mikey was racing. Now that he was home he was still busy catching up on things that needed fixed around the house, helping Shinichiro at S.S Motors, looking over literally everything else but you.

You were pissed.

Even now he was out in the garage, looking over his own bike with the intent of going for a ride to make sure it was fully fixed. Kenny had been out there all day, covered in grease and sweat while only coming in for water and a small snack.

"Kenny?" You wandered in with a glass of water for him, "How's it coming along?"

"Not great," He grabbed the glass and took a quick sip, "a few things are still broken and I need to replace the seat. The damn leather has been ruined 'cause I can't get out here to take care of her."

There wasn't much you could do but stand next to him as he tinkered. You didn't know much about the motorcycle, much less on how to fix it. What you did know, however, was that Kenny was dense. Here you were, next to him and talking to him, naked as the day you were born.

"Do you think I could show you how to take care of the leather for when I'm gone?" He asked, reaching for a tool before going back to the bike, "Replacing the seat is going to be expensive and I can't keep doing it every time I get home."

"I'll try." You nodded.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You continued to sit and talk to him, handing him tools and waiting for him to notice you. Usually he was very attentive, so this was a little funny to you. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he wasn't even looking at you.

"What's so- Holy shit..." Ken looked up after gods know how long. His dark eyes trailed all over your body, landing on your chest and hips and-

Kenny stood quickly and nearly slammed you into the work bench behind you, "Fuck...I really have been gone too long if I hadn't noticed this." He rubbed his developing hard on up against your leg, groaning at the feeling of it. "I hope your plan was to get fucked." Draken slipped from the pants he wore and rubbed his tip through your folds, "I'm not-I don't think I can be gentle."

The way you giggled shot straight to his cock, making his tip swell a little more. You knew he wouldn't be gentle, not with his physique and strength, but that didn't bother you. Something about the way he sounded when he had complete control over the situation drove not only him crazy, but you. He was an animalistic man, driven by pure need and primal instinct.

"The hell are you thinkin' anyway? Comin' out here in nothing but your skin?" Draken tapped your clit harshly to make you hiss, "We have neighbors. What if I had the door wide open?"

You shook your head at him, "You close the door at nine pm sharp."

"Smart girl thought ahead, hm? Thinks that makes it better?" Kenny whispered in your ear, fixing the way you were sat on the workbench. Comfortability was his main concern when he made you cream. Location was of little consequence when he could feel your muscles tightening around him in pure, pathetic need. Making you cry was his main goal half of the time, the other three percent was seeing how loud he could make you. "Just wanted my attention, didn't you, ya' little minx." Draken pulled your hair to expose your throat to him, "Reminds me of the ladies that raised me, y'know."

Calloused fingers squeezed your jaw, dark eyes bore into yours, "Think you could survive if I left you in the Red Light District, hm? Would this little cunt make it out without bruising?" His deep laugh made you wet, wetter than you had been, at least. "No, not my baby. You'd be destroyed."

Not that he minded. Hell, he'd never even actually leave you in the store, let alone a dangerous part of town. But those big pupils of yours excited him to no end.

"Tongue out." Kenny released your jaw to spit on your tongue and press his finger to it, "Good girl. Swallow." Having you obey him after coming out to the garage bare ass naked was throwing him through a million plans. Gods, the ways he could bend you fucking backwards for his pleasure and you'd take it... It made his cock throb painfully.

"Deep breath." He whispered in your ear. You'd no sooner breathed in when he stretched you, bottoming out with a light growl in your ear. "Fuck... Definitely too long if you're this tight. Fucking choking me, baby."

The workbench creaked its protest as Draken fucked into you. There would be faint bruising from his thighs hitting the tabletop, but that wasn't his concern. You're cries of pleasure and the way you were breaking through the skin on his arms had all his focus. "That's right. Fucking cling to me." His cock was hitting as deep as your body allowed, "Needy girl... All for me, yeah?"

"Kenny!"

"There ya' go. Scream for me." Draken grabbed your throat, "Let the neighbors hear us. Let 'em know you've got a needy little cunt."

"I said, let 'em know." His fingers tightened around your neck.

You held his wrist as he slammed into you, his tip feeling like it was moving your insides around, "Please, Kenny! Need you!"

Awful, squelching, wet noises drew his attention to where he was bullying you, "Fuck yeah, you do. I can hear her talkin' to me. Pretty little cock sleeve, ain't ya?" Draken moved you from the workbench, bending you over his bike seat. "Goddamn... So fuckin' good for me. Hold tight, baby, I ain't gonna be done with you anytime soon."

[chaos-chloe]

Podcast moments - Pezzy version

Summary: Three-time you were mentioned, or You were a surprise guest for a moment in the Clooless Podcast, clip inspired

TW: Nurse!reader (retired), cute moments, kisses, cursing, medical advice/EpiPen, reckless driving, and etc

“I feel like that put a lot of pressure on you.” Droid pointing at Pezzy and his tendencies while riding their motorcycles.

“You’ve become quite the mama bird, when it comes to me driving.” Droid continued as he was playing with his shoes.

“Well yeah,- well now- I don’t know- because.” Pezzy stammers through his reasoning, as he was waving his hand around.

“I find it so funny, cause isn't _ really the mama bird with you?” Grizzy interjects their conversation.

“I’ve realized like when I was driving a bike; I had _ and other people were worried about me before. Like where they are like, “ooo let me know when you get to certain places” blah blah blah. And i'm like ‘yeah i'll let you know.” Pezzy reasoned as he was adjusting his hair like always.

“And I never experienced a friend riding a motorcycle. Now that you're riding it, I'm like checking behind me, when _ is not riding with us, I’m like ‘IS HE DEAD?!!?’” Pezzy laughed as he was getting himself comfortable again on the couch.

“I'm always checking to see if you are still good.” Pezzy ends his spiel.

“But __ is the biggest mama bird when it comes to new riders, she will always adopt baby riders.” Droid says keeping the topic still alive of bikes.

“I swear her phone is always blowing up because she is in so many biker support groups.” Puffer pipes in as he experiences that while hanging out with the group.

“She is the best type of person to protect baby drivers, she went off on someone for trying to cut me off on the highway.” Droid says, “It was fucking bad ass, but damn she’s scary when shes in mama bear mode.” Droid laughs while everyone joins in with him.

“Dude you should have seen her race after someone when they did something stupid to Pezzy as we were all driving together. Like she was like the ghost rider after them.” Grizzy says as he was trying to remember what happened.

“She is great but god damn she has her reckless moments too, like any motorcycle driver.” Pezzy shakes his head as he is trying to calm down from laughing.

“Hold on, Yumi is calling me.” Puffer said while looking at his phone.

“Is that Tuah?” Droid questioned, while looking over at Pezzy. “I thought it was a sponsor.” Pezzy laughed

“You know what? Pick it up! Pick it up!” Grizzy taunted Puffer

“It's probably about the football game.” Puffer says while he is thinking about why Yumi would be calling him.

“This is-Oh!” Pezzy got caught by Droid; “It’ll be over by the time it comes out.”.

“Pateron content if it is good.” Pezzy said hastily as Puffer picked up the phone. “Hey man, what's up?”

“Nahh speaker, nah” Grizzy said as Puffer put his phone up to his ear.

“Damn all like the whole demeanor just changed.” Droid comments

“Uhh-um were doing a podcast.” Puffer says as Pezzy laughed at his awkwardness, Puffer held his fingers to his other ear so he could understand Yumi better.

“All I heard was, you wanna be on the podcast? Real quick hold on, here.” Puffer put his phone on speaker phone.

“Welcome to Talk Tuah.” Droid said in a serious tone but was joking. “Hey Yumi.” Puffer cuts Droid off.

“Hey wait, Pezzy’s there right?” Yumi asked

“Yeah I'm here Yumi, what up?” Pezzy answered his question with a question back.

“Where’s {Nickname that only yumi can use}?” Yumi asked

“Uh should be hanging out with Meghan, let me go get her.” Pezzy said while getting up and readjusting himself as he was walking to the door.

“Hey babe, Yumi called Puffer is looking for you!” Pezzy yelled out into Puffer’s house.

“Yum Yum!” Is all he heard as being yelled back and your feet running on Puffers hardwood floors.

“Ohp- she's running now, yumi” Puffer said as everyone was laughing cause they heard your footsteps.

“Ugh- i'm never running again for you, but YUM YUM!” _ complains as she is out of breath but greets Yumi. “Eh {nickname} did you see the game and that play that just happened?” Yumi asks as casually as he could after interrupting the Clooless Podcast.

“Omg no!-""Alright, Alright, Yumi, did you have something to say to the podcast?” Puffer cuts __ off from responding to Yumi. Grizzy started a full belly laugh, as Droid did a small chuckle as if he was being tickled by a feather.

“Oh! This is my message to the world.” Yumi started off with a small laugh.

“Oh no!” “Where is this going?” Droid and Grizzy responded with their own jest.

“It sounds like the Joker.” Droid kept going with his goofiness.

“Yeah?” “How y'all- How y’all doing?” Yumi had a brain fart.

“That's your message?” The Clooless gang all responded back.

“Hey i'm doing alright Yum Yum, but imma go back to filming tiktoks with meghan.” __ says while exiting the room but not before giving Pezzy a quick peck on the lips and a simple ‘I love you’ .

ACHOO

“God damn!” Puffer exclaimed to Grizzy, sneezing up a storm (it was one sneeze).

“Brother, I'm trying to survive out here.” Grizzy said while rubbing his face due to his allergies

“I know. Bro can not be around Brodie.” Puffer said as he was thinking of ways to keep Brodie away from Grizzy.

“We might need a medic team on standby.” ElasticDroid joke but it was taken slightly serious.

“Hahah, imagine episode 25–” Grizzy faked being dead in his chair all slumped over, his head slinging to the left side

“We put a bunch of Epipens on this desk, wait table.” Pezzy jokes

“You know how to use it right?” ElasticDroid asked as Grizzy faked gasping, coming back to life.

“No I don't but _ is a retired ER nurse, OMG she can be our medical team.” Pezzy said while slapping his knee, dying of laughter.

Droid started patting his heart, acting out that's where you put the Epipen to inject it.

“No, it's in the leg” Pezzy disagreed with Droid.

“It's not in the heart.” Grizzy deadpanned shaking his head in disbelief

“This dude is trying to kill somebody.” Pezzy popped off as he was looking at Grizzy

“Ooo _, get her in here real quick.” Droid says

“Babe, come here real quick!” Pezzy yelled

“Huh? What am I here?” __ said walking into the podcast room.

“Quick question, where and how do I use an Epipen?” Droid asked with full seriousness.

“Well, do you want me to explain it how I am supposed to explain it or a sweet and short explanation?” _ questioned back with professionalism.

“Sweet and short.” Puffer said not wanting to waste _’s time.

“Goes into the mid-outer-thigh, the orange tip pointing down and the blue end facing up. Do not put any part of your hand over either end or just come get me to do it. Then call 911 or go to the ER yourself.” _ wrapped it up.

“Oh damn, oh well I was wrong, thank you __ and comments say thank you as well.” Droid said owning up to his stupidity while pointing to the camera.

[bunnivez]

Modern! Zoya…

Her first job was as a tattoo artist. Most of her costumers were women, they would specifically ask for her to do their tattoos; both because of her amazing work and the other… to get a close look at her. Whats better? Zoya is aware of the many women she is pulling (๑>؂•̀๑)

Imagine you two meet randomly bumping against each other and turns out you work at the shop right next to the one she works at!

Or you got recomendad by your friend to go to a certain shop to get your tattoo done, telling you to specifically ask for a woman named Zoya since her work is more professional and she is more trusted to give you great results.

She used to live in an apartment until she got a husky… I mean she it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford an average house but damn, she now has to pay more…

Has a love-hate relationship with her dog TRUST. Often complains of their sudden howling and the amount of hair they shed.

“It’s 1:30AM why the fuck are you howling like that!? You sound like you’re dying!” “Oh my f… You know i’m tempted in leaving you bald so I don’t have to deal with having your hair on the couch.”

At the same time however, they are also her best buddy and friend. There are times where she even lets them sleep with her on bed… For at least an hour before Zoya falls asleep and accidentally pushes s them off the bed in the middle of the night.

Yes she is a messy sleeper, god knows how the heck she ends up with on leg on the headboard and the other hanging on the bed. She snores like a dad…

Like even her huskey got scared for a second and kept barking until she woke up.

Listen, when going out she has this whole badass outfit, rings on her fingers, chains, unbuttoned blouse, a whole ass fit that screams “DADDY”

And then there are times where she just pulls up to the grocery store with an “Idgaf” outfit… Yet somehow she still looks hot. Jorts, a black baggy shirt, socks with the damn sandals or crocs combo (ಠ_ಠ)

Has a tongue piercing and you cannot tell me otherwise. If not, it is definitely her nipples.

Dark or alcohol filled chocolates girly. She isn’t a fan of overly sweet stuff.

Once choked on boba balls.

Honestly she can be romantic at times. She takes you to dates often— if not she plans something you two can do at home. Like cook, watch movies, play games or something.

Motorcycle rides with her are very common, more so with the fact that she doesn’t really own a car… Which she did confess that she may or may not be the best at driving.

Who knows how the heck she managed to stay alive with the many incidents she’s had while driving.. I guess she’s immortal.

Has an electric guitar, she posts videos on TikTok playing it and they get pretty high views! Like 406.1k views or something.

Her reposts mainly contain of two things; brain rots, lesbian.

Takes the most silly pictures of you and posts them on her story.

Source ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

HAHAHSGSBSGAVAWHABE, IMAGINE HER LAYING DOWN WHILE YOU SIT ON TOP OF HER TO DO HER MAKEUP.

Holds you like a stuffed animal when sleeping. It’s actually so cute but it’s kinda hard to break free from her hold.

YOU GUYS PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, AND WHOEVER LOSES IS IN CHARGE OF COOKING.

Her cooking is actually pretty damn good! I feel like she is especially a specialist when it comes to cooking meat.

If you are too shy to order your food whenever you two are out, or pay, DO NOT WORRY, SHE LITERALLY IS YOUR SAVIOR, NO KIDDING. This woman gives no fucks at all, too shy to order? She’ll do it, hot your order wrong? She’ll go up and tell them.

Have I mentioned she gets up at 5AM just to do pushups?…

The type to randomly smack or grab your ass, she doesn’t care about the size.

I don’t recommend watching romance movies with her… she will cringe at any kissing scenes acting like she wouldn’t or doesn’t do that with you 24/7.

Not the best at dancing… Girl is STIFF.

I have the feeling she is the type to not admit that she is in pain during her period. She will act all tough and all until she can’t anymore.

(We need more comforting the ptn women on their period instead of the other way around, they also need comfort 😔)

Oh yeah did I also mention she was close to breaking your phone once? It all happened when you were scrolling through TikTok and saw a thirst trap (*cough* Rhea Ripley *cough*) and when I tell you grabbed your phone and threw it… IT HAPPENED.

Says she hates kids but has a soft spot for them actually. They remind her of Horo when she was wayyy younger.

Randomly sends you weird TikToks…. Like it’s so random and she says nothing about it.

She isn’t a fan of dresses, but she once tried it for you and it was a sight. It hugged her curves right and she kept flexing her muscles. If you take any pictures she seriously will kill you. (Especially if you send them to her friends).

If you are out she WILL text and call you every 36 minutes if she can’t come with you. And if she is too busy to pick you up she will face time you on your way home.

Has like so many posters of her favorite bands, korn, kiss, Deftones, ect.

Randomly gives you kisses when you least expect it. They are so random, you could be distracted and she will kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or the top of your head.

If she sees anyone eyeing you while in public she will pull you close and give the person a nasty look.