#i need to spend like a week straight doing nothing but head and face studies im so weak w them

[jamswhams]

raghhh

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Ghost

Words: 884

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Most evenings, after everyone else had left the common room, Remus could be found studying by the light of the fire. NEWTs were coming up and he was barely sleeping, not eating anywhere near enough and the full moon was the weekend before the exams began. In short, he was straight up not having a good time.

After two weeks of this routine, James, Peter and Sirius decided that something had to be done. James had tried talking to him about the importance of sleep, and Pete had tried bringing him snacks whenever he could, but nothing was working. Sirius decided to take matters into his own hands. Once James and Peter had fallen asleep, he snuck down to the common room.

Remus was hunched over a book, trying to keep his eyes open. He looked up as the bottom stair creaked.

“Alright?” He asked wearily.

“Not really,” Sirius said, sitting at the other end of the sofa.

Remus put his book down and shifted closer to Sirius. “What’s wrong, Pads?”

“I’m worried about my friend.” Sirius whispered, “He’s not looking after himself, and it’s like… living with a ghost.” He met Remus’ eye and said, “Please don’t just fob me off like you did the others.”

Remus’s face softened, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know.” Sirius brushed his little finger against Remus’ between them on the sofa. “You’re not helping yourself by neglecting yourself. You need to eat, and sleep, and do things that make you happy as well as study. You remember when Evans kept fainting before the OWLs? That’ll be you if you don’t look after yourself, Moons.”

“I can’t fail Pads. I have to get Os or I’ll never—”

“I know. That pressure isn’t helpful. You can only do your best, and how good is your best going to be if you’re sleep-deprived and starving?” He linked their little fingers. “Please look after yourself. Or let us help if it feels difficult. We love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Remus said sleepily, making Sirius’ heart soar, despite knowing what Remus probably meant.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Most evenings after everyone had returned home, Sirius could be found drinking Firewhiskey by the light of the fire. All-out war was on the horizon and he was barely sleeping, not eating anywhere enough and drinking far too much to the point of passing out more often than not. In short, he was straight up not having a good time.

After two weeks of this routine, Remus decided that something had to be done. Kingsley had tried talking to Sirius about sleeping better, Molly Weasley had done her best to feed him, but nothing was working. Remus decided to take matters into his own hands. Once the last of the Order had left Grimmauld Place he slunk into the drawing room.

Sirius was hunched over a large glass of firewhiskey, swaying slightly and muttering to himself. He looked up as Remus cleared his throat.

“Alright, Remus?” He asked.

“Not really,” Remus said, sitting down next to Sirius. He held out his hand, smiling softly as Sirius set down his glass and laced his fingers between Remus’.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about my friend.” Remus said, “He’s not looking after himself, and it’s like spending time with a ghost. I don’t know where you’ve gone, Pads.”

“I'm right here, Moony. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do. Do you remember right before NEWTs when you came down to me in the common room one night and talked me into not self-destructing anymore?” Sirius nodded slowly, “This is me repaying the favour. You’re not eating, I know you’re not sleeping and you’ve gone through four bottles of Firewhiskey so far this week.”

“What else is there to do?” Sirius’ voice trembled slightly,

“So much, love,” Remus said, Sirius’ head snapping up at the use of the name he hadn’t used for over a decade. “Being stuck here is temporary. If you keep on the way you are, you won’t see the day when you can do whatever you want. A very wise man once said to me 'You’re not helping yourself by neglecting yourself’.”

“That does sound like something a very wise man would say.” Sirius smiled slightly, “I think I’m spiralling.”

“How can I help?” He squeezed Sirius’ hand. “What do you need?”

Sirius’ eyes locked on his. “Stay here with me.” He said quietly. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asked.

“I feel better when you’re here. Like before.” He frowned, “Not that you need to… I don’t mean that you’d need to… with me.”

“Would sharing a bed help you sleep? I know it did in Wales.” Remus asked softly. Sirius nodded, “Alright then. I’ll go and pack up my stuff tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t. I want to, Pads. I’d do anything for you.” Remus looked away from him. “I love you.”

“Still?” Sirius asked hoarsely.

“Don’t you?” Remus asked, hoping that Sirius wasn’t about to break his heart.

“Of course I do, I just didn’t know where you were at.” Sirius’ eyes shone. “There isn’t a day in the last fifteen years where the thought of you hasn’t helped me survive.”

“Well then,” Remus smiled, “It’s probably time we did something about it, isn’t it?”

[captainsophiestark]

Nosy Best Friends

Tristan Flynn x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Based on this request from Anon! It was very fun to write and it gave me a second, related idea that I'm planning to post Monday, so thanks for sending it in! Hope you like it!

Fandom: Crescent City

Summary: Flynn's been disappearing a lot to spend time with his human girlfriend, and his friends have decided to finally figure out where he's been going.

Word Count: 2,219

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a tiny bit of Angst? But not really

A/N: This fic also has a prequel called Presentation Problems and a sequel called The Best Night Ever, but can also be read on its own!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Ruhn's POV

"Where the Hel are you going?"

Flynn barely stopped at the sound of my voice, half-turning back with an irritated look. I gave him the same one right back.

"I'm going out. Why do you care?"

"You've been disappearing doing Urd knows what for weeks. Come on, Flynn, what's going on?"

Flynn just rolled his eyes. "Nothing, mom. Just relax and mind your own business."

He turned on his heel and walked out the door without looking back. I watched him go, then turned to Dec on the couch.

"Something's going on with him."

"Yeah. Think it's time we do something about it?"

"Definitely."

****************

Y/N's POV

I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I tried to reread what I'd written for the thousandth time. I'd been holed up in my apartment for almost forty-eight hours straight working on a paper for grad school, and I'd started to go a little crazy.

The only reason I hadn't gone crazy about twenty hours ago was my boyfriend, Tristan Flynn. He'd been keeping me company, providing a stream of encouragement and my favorite snacks and helping me take a break when I really needed it, even if I wouldn't admit it. He'd left a couple hours ago to go do something he needed to do, and I'd come very close to hurling my laptop at the wall in his absence.

We'd first met in a similar situation, when I'd hurled my notebook across what I'd thought was an empty classroom. Flynn had been looking for somebody the Aux had followed to campus, and only his fae reflexes had kept him from taking my notebook to his head. If I hadn't been stressed out of my mind already, I would've been worried about having accidentally attacked a member of the fae Aux, especially as a human, but I'd hit my limit that day, so instead I'd shouted at him for interrupting my studying.

Luckily for both of us, once he'd recovered from his shock, he'd seemed to be into that. He'd tried to get me to leave for safety reasons, and I'd refused, so he'd stayed. We ended up hitting it off the bat, and the rest was history.

We'd been together for a few months now, and despite every warning I'd ever heard against dating a member of the Vanir, it was quite honestly the best relationship I'd ever been in. We hadn't told anyone else in our lives yet, mostly because we didn't want our little bubble of happiness being burst, but I had a hard time believing anything could ruin what we'd found together.

The few seconds I'd spent losing myself in memories had been nice, but the glaring light of my laptop screen didn't let me escape for long. I sighed heavily, trying to decide whether it was worth it to power through. I didn't entirely have a choice, unless I wanted to drop out of grad school, but maybe I could find something to do as a small break.

Somebody must have been listening to my silent pleas, because a moment later my phone rang. I smiled when Flynn's face popped up, a terrible picture of him that I'd taken when he wasn't ready. He always switched it back to a shirtless one he'd taken himself when he got the opportunity, and it had become a little silent war between us.

"You have amazing timing," I sighed as soon as I picked up. I could hear his smile through the other end of the phone.

"I always do. Come downstairs."

"...You know I shouldn't. This paper-"

"Is something you've been holed up in that apartment working on for way too long. You're driving yourself insane, and last I checked, you can't turn in anything if you smash your laptop to pieces against the wall. Besides, humans need sunlight. And fresh air."

"An expert on that, are you?"

"I sure am," his voice purred over the phone and I rolled my eyes, but I also felt heat rising on my cheeks. "Just come down here, and I'll show you how much of an expert I am."

I let out a long breath through my nose. Flynn was right. Sitting in this apartment driving myself insane wasn't helping anything. And besides, I really wanted to go spend time with him.

"Alright. I'm on my way."

"Good. I'll see you in a second."

****************

Ruhn's POV

"What in Hel is he doing here?" I hissed to Dec, trying to keep my voice down. We'd tailed Flynn to some apartment complex not far from the college we'd chased some monster down at not long ago.

"I don't know..." said Dec. "Maybe he's got a lead on something for the case? Or a new case, related to all that shit we dealt with last time?"

"You think Flynn's spending his time off work doing more work?"

I shot Dec a look, and he snorted.

"Okay, you're right. It's probably not that."

We turned back to watch Flynn, who had a full bouquet of flowers in his hands. He'd put on the nicest clothes he owned, and if I didn't know better, I would've thought-

"Oh! Tristan, holy shit!"

Dec and I stared wide-eyed as a human female came out of the apartment building, absolutely beaming at Flynn. She ran to him and jumped in his arms, hugging him tight, as he picked her up and spun her around. He kissed her, and when they pulled apart they stayed close, forehead to forehead, just staring at each other lovingly, something I'd never seen Flynn do with a female. I glanced at Dec to find him looking just as shocked as me, and when I turned back to find Flynn practically floating looking at the girl in front of him, I couldn't help my surprised shout.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

****************

Y/N's POV

Tristan and I whirled around in sync at the sound of a loud shout from across the street. I found two fae males staring at us, looking absolutely outraged, and I started to get a little worried until my boyfriend shouted back.

"What the FUCK are you two doing here?"

"I take it you know them?" I asked, turning to Flynn and keeping my voice low. He shook his head, but the irritation in his eyes faded the second he looked at me.

'Yeah, sweetheart, I do. They're my roommates and my friends from the Aux. And they're absolute idiots."

I turned to find the idiots in question storming across the street and towards us, shouting at cars that almost hit them in the process. Unconsciously, I took a half step towards Flynn, and he immediately wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

Not a moment too soon. His friends finally made it across traffic to come to a stop in front of us, and my jaw literally almost hit the floor when I realized one of them was the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae.

"What the Hel are you doing?" demanded the prince before turning to me. "And who is this?"

"I'm his girlfriend," I snapped, not quite able to stop myself. Both newcomers stared at me in wide-eyed shock, then whirled on their friend.

"Your what?"

"My girlfriend," Flynn said, an edge of steel in his voice that I'd only heard once or twice, usually in relation to Aux business.

The fae before us shared an absolutely shocked look, then whirled back around to look at Flynn.

"Why the Hel didn't you tell us?"

"Is that where you've been sneaking off to every day for the last few months?"

"What the fuck, Flynn?"

They shouted their questions at Flynn in sync, then without waiting for my boyfriend to get ahold of himself enough to answer, the one I didn't recognize turned to me with an apologetic smile.

"I'm Declan," he said, holding out a hand for me to shake. I stared at it for a minute, then slowly took it. "It's nice to meet you."

"...Nice to meet you, too."

"Ruhn. Also nice to meet you," said the prince with a chin nod of a hello in my direction. Then, he turned back to Flynn. "You know everybody's gonna lose it when they realize you've been keeping a steady girlfriend a secret from us, right?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Bunch of Aux members, a spy, and Bryce, it's your own fault for not figuring it out sooner. You should be better at your jobs than this."

Ruhn and Declan's mouths dropped open, and I laughed. I could see them getting ready for a comeback, so I stepped even closer to Flynn and fixed the other two fae with a bright smile.

"It's been nice to get to meet some of Tristan's friends, and I'm sure I'll see you both again soon. But right now, I was promised a break from my term paper by my wonderful boyfriend, and I don't intend to let anything get in the way of that."

"I'd listen if I were you," said Flynn, a massive smile on his face as he looked at me with the most lovesick expression I'd ever seen. It made my heart melt. "We met because she almost clocked me in the head with a notebook for interrupting her study session."

"Well technically I threw the notebook before you came in. And then I yelled at you for interrupting."

"Are you trying to say you wouldn't have thrown the notebook at my head anyway if it'd still been in your hands?"

"...No, I probably would've."

"I know. And I love it." He grinned, leaning in for a heated kiss. It still took my breath away, kissing him, even though it'd been a few months now, and he pulled away far too soon for my liking. "What do you say we get the Hel out of here for your distraction?"

"I say Hel yeah, let's go."

He gave me one last quick peck, then pulled back with a wink. His arm stayed wrapped around my waist as we turned to head off to whatever surprise he had planned, not bothering to spare more than a nod at his absolutely stunned friends.

"You get the weekend, Flynn!" one of them called after us. "And then we're having a party and getting to know this female you're so head over heels for!"

"Sure!" Flynn said, calling back over my head. "As long as she decides she actually wants to meet you!"

I snorted, and when I looked at Flynn I found a beaming smile on his face as we walked down the street together. He held out the hand that wasn't around my waist, finally presenting me with the gorgeous bouquet he'd first shown up with.

"For you."

"Thanks, Tris." I took the flowers and leaned into him, and we continued in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Flynn cleared his throat.

"So, do you... uh, do you want to meet them? My friends and everybody?"

"Well, that depends a little bit... why were they so shocked? Was it because I'm human?"

"No." Flynn's response was immediate, and he stopped dead in his tracks to turn me to face him. He put both hands on my shoulders, his warm brown eyes finding mine. "I would never voluntarily spend time with people who felt or thought that way."

"Okay... then why did they seem so surprised to see you with somebody?"

He grimaced. "You... might be the first serious girlfriend I've had. Ever."

My eyebrows shot up, and my heart skipped a few beats.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think my record before this was... seeing the same female for two weeks? Maybe?"

I couldn't help barking a laugh, and Flynn grimaced again. My heart, on the other hand, was soaring as I reached up to gently cup his cheek.

"Well, I guess I can see why your friends were so surprised then. I'd be happy to meet them. And I'm honored to be the first female you've decided to stick around for."

He grinned at me, making my heart race even faster, then slowly leaned in until our lips were just a hair's breadth away.

"I'm honored to be a fae male you're willing to date. Based on what another friend has told me, a human like you wouldn't be willing to give just any of us a chance."

I snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. But I'm glad I gave you one."

"Me too."

I gave Flynn a little smirk, then leaned in to close the rest of the distance between us. He wasted no time kissing me back, hard, and we quickly deepened the kiss. I let my one free hand wander up to tangle in his hair, and I was ready to lose myself in him right then and there, but after a few long moments he gently pulled back.

"As much as I'd like to continue this... I think you'll really like the surprise break I have planned."

I smiled, going in for one last quick kiss, then pulling all the way back.

"Alright. Let's go. As long as we can continue this after I finish my assignments?"

"If I ever say no to that, you should be concerned."

I laughed as we headed off down the street together again, hand in hand. I still had many hovering stressors, from school to finally meeting Flynn's extended friend group, but I knew I'd have him with me for all of it. I was starting to get the feeling he was in it for the long haul, and even though that brought plenty of challenges, I couldn't help being excited for it all the same.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[pulisicsgirl]

flustered assessments - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N is a nursing student struggling to study for an assignment and Christian offers to help out by letting her do an assessment on him; super fluffy, established relationship

pairing: Christian Pulisic x nursing student!reader

word count: 2.4k

notes: this is the first fic that I'm posting on here!!! :) this fic is entirely self-indulgent and I wrote it during finals week last semester, so it might be super niche, but I still thought it was cute so and figured I would share it. please tell me what you think!

You held your head in your hands as you hunched over the desk, all your work laid out before you. Your mind seemed to spin as you tried to take in and retain all of the information written in your notebook and printed on the sheets of paper before you. You were preparing to head into final exam week as a junior-year nursing student, and you were due to perform a graded head-to-toe assessment the following morning. Nerves wracked your body as you tried to go through the checklist you had to complete (from memory). You wiggled your fingers as you read through your notes, trying to dispel some of the anxiety you were feeling.

You felt a light pressure on your back and a kiss was placed on your neck, just below your ear, as Christian leaned his body over you and wrapped his arms around your torso.

He had come over earlier that night so the two of you could try to spend some of his very limited time off together, but when he realized how much work you had piling up before exams and how stressed you were about studying, he immediately shifted gears, encouraging you to do whatever work you needed to and doing his best not to distract you. It meant a lot to you that he recognized how important your studies were to you, and that he didn’t try to convince you to spend time with him instead. You had wanted nothing more than to spend the evening wrapped in his arms under a blanket on the couch, watching a movie until you drifted into a peaceful sleep—honestly. But with so many tests looming in your near future, you knew you wouldn’t be able to relax and focus on spending time with him—and he realized that too. So for the last few hours, he has wandered in periodically, ensuring that you had snacks and took breaks every so often. He talked you down from your anxious thoughts, reassuring you that you were capable of the things that you had set out to do.

“Hey, baby. Just checking in,” he said, almost at a whisper. “How are things going?”

You sighed softly, subtly leaning back into his chest and groaning in frustration. “I feel so overwhelmed,” you whined, rubbing the palms of your hands in your eyes. “I feel like I’m just reading the same information over and over again and not retaining anything.” Christian stood up straight, using his fingers to gently massage your shoulders as you tilted your head back to look at him. His faced held a sympathetic look as he stared back down at you.

He thought for a moment. “What are you working on right now?”

“I’m trying to prepare for the head-to-toe assessment I have to do in the morning,” you gestured to the equipment you had laid out on the desk. Your stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and pen light, among other tools, lay unused on the surface.

“Would it help if you actually went through the assessment instead of just reading about it?” he asked softly.

You pondered his words for a brief moment. “Yeah, actually,” you looked back up at him. “It might.”

A grin broke out on his face, accentuating the soft dimples in his cheeks. “You could do it on me!” he replied with excitement. He had always loved seeing you practice any of your nursing skills. He often made remarks about how you were his “smartie pants” that was going to save lives one day, and it warmed your heart each time. Any time he would feel an ache or pain, he would come to you to ask what was wrong, and whether you had the answer or not, you knew that he secretly just loved when you would dote on him and try to take care of him.

“Really? Are you sure?” you asked. He just nodded, bouncing lightly on his toes in excitement.

“Where do you want me?” he asked with a grin. You told him to go sit on the bed while you grabbed your tools and a couple sheets of paper. You placed them on the bedside table and tried to mentally prepare yourself to do the assessment.

“Okay, so…” you looked up at Christian’s face which only held a small, eager, and supportive smile. He was sitting up at the top of the bed with his back against the headboard. In an instant, you felt a wave of anxiety as you thought about how unprepared you felt for this assignment. You pulled on the fingers of your right hand, a habit that you often did when you were nervous.

Christian picked up on this, leaning forward to grab your hands with his own. “Hey, baby. Relax,” he spoke softly, as though you were a small, scared woodland animal that he was doing his best not to spook. He gently pulled you forward, uttering a soft, “c’mere” as he pulled you to sit on his lap, with your legs on the outside of his so you were straddling him. He placed both of his hands on your cheeks, looking intently into your eyes. “It’s just me and you here. You can do this. And you can run through it as many times as you need to tonight. I’ll be right here.” His thumb stroked your cheek gently. “Okay?” You felt butterflies in your stomach at his words as you nodded and glanced down. Even after as long as you had been together, he never failed to get you flustered.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself and focus on his encouragement, and he moved his hands from your face, settling them on your hips. You decided to just stay where you were to do the assessment—it wasn’t the most conventional way to assess a patient by any means, but you felt better when you were close to him. You leaned over to the bedside table, grabbing your notebook and a pen so you could jot down notes as you went.

“Okay,” you paused, collecting yourself. “Hi, my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be your nurse today.” You glanced up to Christian’s face, feeling almost giddy at the amused look on it. “I need to do a head-to-toe assessment on you, is that okay?” You mentally went through the elements of the introduction that you needed to fulfill, checking each one off in your head as you went.

Christian replied with a “yes, ma’am,” and a short nod.

“Okay, can I get your name and date of birth?”

“Christian Pulisic. September 18, 1998.” You had already begun writing down the answer before he started speaking, already sure of his answer.

“Do you know what day of the week it is?”

“It’s a beautiful Thursday evening.”

You giggled at his response, feeling a little more anxiety flutter away. “Do you know where you are?”

“Your apartment?” he questioned, not exactly sure how he was supposed to answer. You just nodded to show that he was fine.

“Alright, and do you know why you’re here?”

“To help my beautiful, genius girlfriend study for her exams so that she can ace this tomorrow and go on to become the most brilliant and talented nurse this world has ever seen.” You felt the heat rush into your cheeks at his response. You looked up to his face and found an earnest honesty in his eyes as he grinned at you. You shook your head with a laugh, turning back to your notes.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.”

You began taking his vital signs, pretending to take his temperature and oxygen saturation since you didn’t have the equipment to do those. You took his blood pressure and counted his pulse and respirations, noting them on your paper.

“Everything normal?” he asks.

“For the most part,” you smiled. “Your heart rate is kind of fast, but I usually don’t take my patient’s pulse while I’m sitting in their lap, so that could have something to do with it.” He smiled sheepishly, dropping his chin to his chest as he laughed at himself. “And your blood pressure is just a hair high, but with as active as you are and how well you eat, I wouldn’t worry about it. It probably just has to do with the heart rate thing, too.”

You continued assessing him to the best of your ability, asking him questions about how he had been feeling and checking his eye movement with your pen light. Christian continued trying to make you laugh as he followed all of your directions. When you asked him to puff out his cheeks to test one of the cranial nerves, he crossed his eyes, acting as goofy as he could.

You began asking him questions related to his heart, asking if he had experienced any chest pains or dizziness. You put your stethoscope in your ears and, as you did so, Christian leaned forward off of the headboard, pulling his shirt over his head quickly, and discarding it on the floor. You felt the heat flooding your face once again as you studied his bare abdomen.

“Like what you see, Nurse Y/N?” he wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes, laughing anyway. “Just shut up and lean back,” you giggled, pushing his chest. You placed the stethoscope to his skin, listening to the soft lub-dub, lub-dub of his heartbeat, a soft smile passing over your face. It was one of your favorite sounds—his heartbeat. It was a comforting sound, knowing he was alive and well. You had fallen asleep many times, head pressed to his chest as the steady rhythm lulled you to sleep.

You jotted down some more notes as you took the stethoscope out of your ears, turning back to look at him. “Do you have any history of smoking?” you asked with a smile, as you already knew the answer.

“No,” he smiled.

“Alright, have you experienced any coughing recently? Any difficulty or pain with breathing? Any shortness of breath?”

“Well… a little bit,” he pondered, tapping his finger to his chin. You quirked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him in question. Why hadn’t he mentioned to you that he was having trouble breathing recently? A thousand possibilities ran through your head in an instant.

“Well, you know… because you took my breath away,” he raised his eyebrows as if to say, ‘that one was pretty good, huh?’.

 You just grabbed your notebook, writing in it once more. “Patient… thinks… he’s smooth,” you spoke slowly as if you were writing the words in your notes.

“Heyyyy,” he groaned and both of you laughed.

You continued working through the list of what you needed to do, checking off each item, one by one. As you were working through the neuro section, Christian moved his hands from your hips, down to settle on your thighs, where he rubbed the pads of his thumbs over the exposed skin just below the hem of your shorts.

“Have you, um… h-have,” your breath caught in your throat, suddenly feeling flustered at the soft touch of his fingers. You swallowed hard, attempting to pull yourself together and promptly failing. You dropped your hands into your lap in defeat, letting out a heavy sigh. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He wore a sly grin on his face.

“You know what you’re doing,” you groaned.

He laughed at your desperation. “Come on, if you can do it in these circumstances, you can do it in any setting,” he retorted, raising his eyebrows at you. As much as you may not like it, he was probably right.

You sighed again, stretching out your back and shaking your head to try to refocus yourself.

Soon enough, you had finished your checklist, looking through your notes to ensure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Alright, I think that’s everything,” you smiled at him. “I diagnose you as… alive.”

“Oh, good. I was worried,” he said in an amused tone, squeezing your thigh. “Alright,” he took the checklist from your hands. “Run me through everything you would do for an assessment, and I’ll check you.”

You took a deep breath, pulling at your fingers again. One of his hand resumed it’s position on your thigh. “Okay I start by introducing myself, I get two patient identifiers and assess for alertness and orientation. Then I’ll take temperature, pulses, respirations…”

You continued listing everything you could remember, running through the assessment in order in your head.

When you reached the end, Christian beamed at you, setting the sheet of paper on the bed beside you. “You aced it. Every last thing on that list—you got it.”

“Really?”

“Every. Last. One.” He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” Your heart fluttered in your chest as you closed your eyes, leaning your head onto his shoulder. He ran his fingers gently over your back, tracing patterns into your spine. “You’ve been studying for hours now, and you’ve got this material down. Do you feel comfortable calling it a night? We can run through it again a couple times in the morning before you actually head in to do it.”

You smiled to yourself at his supportive and caring words. You nodded, head still on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your torso, scooting down the bed so that he could lay down, pulling you to lay on his chest. You instantly melted into him, feeling the ache in your shoulders and back as you finally relaxed.

In a matter of minutes, you felt your eyelids begin to droop as Christian continued rubbing your back slowly.

“Thank you for helping me study,” you spoke slowly, sleep already threatening to take you. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend much time together tonight.”

“It’s okay, baby. Next week, after you crush your finals, I’ll take you out and we can spend all the time in the world together then.”

That simple statement made you smile, giving you something to look forward to after a long week of exams.

And sure enough, Christian was right. After a night of peaceful rest in his arms, the two of you ran through the material a couple more times the next morning, and then, after you had donned your scrubs (earning several cheeky remarks from Christian about how hot you looked in them) you headed into the lab to do the assessment with your instructor and passed it with flying colors.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

To Touch Fate

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason attempts to settle down in Southern Italy and live a civilian life.

Chapters: 24/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Character(s), Bruce Wayne, Terry McGinnis, Matt McGinnis

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Angst, Jason Todd-centric, Jason Todd is a Father, Terry McGinnis is Batman, Retirement, Future Fic, Major Original Character(s)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Memory

Jason discreetly took Katerina, Domenico, and Angelo straight home. “We’re leaving the country by boat at the end of the school year. Six weeks. I need the three of you to spend that time studying, training in the gym, and loading the boat with supplies. I want you to pack like we’re going on a trip, but I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. Pack Sheila, Darius, and Claudia’s things. Do it quickly before they come home, and meet me at the car,” Jason explained.

Domenico left the room immediately without complaint. Katerina and Angelo complained about the abrupt choice until Jason raised a finger to his lips. “We might not have to leave… If we go, it’ll only be until it’s safe to return,” Jason explained, “I don’t wanna be away from home any longer than we have to.”

Angelo and Katerina left, quietly obeying Jason’s gentle command. Once they finished packing, Jason helped them load their bags into the car. He drove them to the docks, leading the children to the boat. They hid their bags below deck. Domenico’s phone rang. “Go ahead. It’s okay. We’re done for today,” Jason whispered, “We’ll wait in the car.” 

** 

Noemi went to the gym with Jason to spar. Noemi practiced throwing punches, and Jason playfully caught her wrist. “Giasone,” Noemi laughed. She looked into his eyes. 

“I want you,” Jason whispered. Noemi grinned. 

“You want me?” Noemi whispered. Jason nodded, releasing her wrist and dropping to his knees. “Focus, Giasone.” 

“I can’t,” Jason mumbled as he nuzzled against her open hand. Noemi lifted his chin. 

Jason chuckled, reaching underneath her sweatshirt. He stood over her, resting his chin atop her head. “What’s on your mind?” Noemi asked. Jason frowned. “I knew it. What is it?” 

“The children are upset… Rightfully, so. What if we have to uproot them? This has been our home for twenty-two years… Twenty-six years for you. Are you mad at me?” Jason questioned. Noemi held his face in her hands, turning his face toward hers. She clicked her tongue and stood on her tiptoes until he softened. 

“ You are home. This is simply a place we occupy together. My memories and my life… my children and my heart… They’re with you,” Noemi reassured him, “You worry so much. The children are young. This is what they know… But nothing has to change. You haven’t changed. I haven’t changed. They’ll be alright.” Jason took her hand, kissing her palm. 

“They’ll listen to you. You’ve always been gentler with words—.”

“You know… There’s one person who understands. I think he wants you to speak to him first. He’s desperately seeking your approval,” Noemi whispered. Jason furrowed his brows. 

“Dom? But he knows—?” 

“Don’t assume he knows anything. Talk to him and ask,” Noemi replied, “And I’ll talk to the others.”

**

Jason took Domenico on the train to visit Bari. “ Papá, what’s the matter ?” Domenico asked. 

“ We haven’t had a day alone in a long time… You never complain. You just—. I love you, Dom, ” Jason smiled. 

“I love you, too… But you didn’t tell me where we’re going,” Domenico replied.

“You used to like surprises, Dom. I think you’ll like this one… I want to reward you for how patient you’ve been with me,” Jason whispered. He messed up Domenico’s hair. “You are such a wonderful picture of what I could’ve been. I admire everything about you… And I—. I want your joy to be endless. I assumed you knew that, but I—. I should say it. Shouldn’t I?” 

Domenico smiled with tears in his eyes and nodded. “What’s this all about, Papá?” Domenico asked. 

“Emi brought it to my attention that I don’t tell you I’m proud of you. Monello, I’m always proud of you. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re loyal… And you’re the most patient kid I’ve got. I’m proud of all of you for so many reasons. I should say it more. I know I needed to hear it when I was young,” Jason replied. Domenico hugged him. 

“Stop. I don’t want to cry on the train,” Domenico laughed. Jason smiled as he wrapped his arms around his son. The train stopped, and they got a ride to the stables. Domenico lit up when he heard Jason say it. 

“I thought it’d be fun… We haven’t gone horseback riding in a long time,” Jason whispered, “Text Emi and tell her we’ll be home late.” 

Domenico obeyed. “Do you remember when you took me to the stables for the first time? It was magic,” Domenico whispered. Jason’s mind drifted to a memory, and he smiled with sad eyes. “Are you remembering something?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sad. I—? You make me remember what it felt like to be a kid,” Jason whispered, “Every time one of you kids gets to sixteen I take a breath. It’s a relief for me. You’re all babies to me. It doesn’t matter how old you all get, you’re all babies. My babies.”

Domenico showed Jason a picture. “I took this picture of you the last time we went. Here,” Domenico whispered as he gave Jason his phone. It was a picture of Jason on horseback with the sun behind him. “You’re my hero, Papá.” 

Jason shed a tear and took a breath. “Stop… You’re gonna make me cry in the car,” Jason laughed. 

** 

Meanwhile, Noemi entertained Claudia and Dario by putting clay masks on their faces. “ Could I interest either of you in some pasticciotti? ” Noemi offered. 

“ Mamma? Can we have milk with it, too, please? ” Claudia questioned. Noemi adjusted Claudia’s cotton headscarf, making sure she didn’t get clay in her hair. 

Dario tugged on Noemi's dress. “ Mamma, aren’t you tired? ” Dario questioned. Noemi shook her head. 

“ I love doing this. You’re the only two that sit long enough to let me pamper you. Relax. I’ll bring your milk and pasticciotti. Stay put, ” Noemi grinned. She walked to the kitchen and put two pastries on a plate and poured two glasses of milk. She fed them with a fork and knife before the timer went off. “ If you’ll excuse me, I need to wash your masks off. ” Noemi carefully washed Claudia’s face before Dario’s, and she applied a few small droplets of oil to their faces. She used her thumbs and palms to massage it into their little faces. 

“ Mamma, do you know when Dom will come home? ” Dario questioned. 

“ Late. After dark, I think… Why? ” Noemi asked. 

“Benjamin’s here,” Dario whispered before the doorbell rang. 

Claudia jumped up. “Please, can I get it, Mamma?” Claudia asked. Noemi nodded, and Claudia rushed to the door. 

“Hi, sweet pea. Where’s your brother?” Benjamin asked as he lifted her up. 

“Dom’s not here. Papá took him to Bari to ride horses. Do you want to come in? Mamma’s home, so we can have visitors,” Claudia offered. Benjamin set her down. “Please?” 

“Okay… You look radiant by the way,” Benjamin smiled. 

“Mamma washed our faces!” Claudia exclaimed. 

Benjamin nodded. “Is it just the three of you today?” Benjamin asked. 

“Mhm… Katerina and Cecelia went swimming,” Claudia answered. 

“Benjamin, would you like a face mask?” Dario peeped. Noemi smiled at Benjamin and nodded. 

“I could do one for you,” Noemi whispered. Benjamin nodded awkwardly. She grabbed the powder container and prepped it with water to make a clay mask. “How is Signorina Ahmadi?” 

“Māmān is fine. She um—. She prolonged her trip, so I was sort of hoping I could stay here for a few days… But I—.” 

“Of course, you can stay here. Darius has been sleeping in Angel’s room for the past few days… It won’t be any trouble. You’ve stayed with us before. It’s no trouble,” Noemi replied, “Oh no, Benji, don’t smile. You’ll crack your face.”

“Oh, sorry, Dottore,” Benjamin replied. 

“It’s okay. And call me Emi. Today’s my day off. You’re so formal. I’m putting clay on your face. Everyone is always so serious,” Noemi chuckled.

[pjisskullourful]

in honour of this happening at my gig(its for me, save your breath telling me it aint cos it is! they were in the same building as me. damithan supremacy is fucking real) imma post a little overdue something

my rainbow family halloween fic never came together, i had a cute idea but sometimes the fic dont fic. but yall can have the first 1k+ of what i did write, which includes a little secret i've been keeping from yall for the throuples future. please enjoy, i wish october had been nicer to me so i could have gotten this fic finished for yall

With nothing but Britney Spears to hear as you styled the long blonde wig, it almost felt like old times. You were reminded of spending a huge chunk of your paycheck on new wigs and spending practically every Saturday night at a live music venue, standing for hours in the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. You remembered the extra concentration that had been put into styling the wig that you wore to surprise your boyfriends with your debut (and only) performance in drag.

The illusion of nostalgia was being routinely interrupted by your baby bump getting in your way. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, your movements had to be adjusted from the typical. That kept you from getting entirely lost in memories, along with the blinking baby monitor set up on your desk.

This wasn’t your first time working on this wig, you had been at it with the hairspray and curling iron many times during the course of this month. And it was almost perfect, almost ready to go atop Damiano’s head to complete his Lestat costume. For this year’s iteration of Victoria and René's famous Halloween parties, your boyfriends were dressing to match one another. They were channelling the leads from 1994’s Interview with the Vampire, with Ethan taking on Brad Pitt’s Louis.

You were going as one of their victims, with prosthetic, gory wounds ready to be glued to your body. The 1800’s dance-style dress you planned to wear would accommodate your tummy, as well as fitting the theme since you had gone at it with scissors and dark red paint.

You were interrupted from your work by the sound of your family returning home. Damiano, Ethan and the three kids were back from their excursion to a local pumpkin patch. You unplugged the curling iron, leaving it on the heat-resistant pad before easing yourself onto your feet. You collected the baby monitor before leaving the room, ready for the moment when Bowie awoke from his nap.

When you got downstairs you followed the voices of Ethan and Marsha, finding them in the family room. They were standing at the crafting table, which was currently dominated by the largest real-life pumpkin you had ever seen - it appeared to be three times the size of your head.

“You don’t think his name is Patrick?” He was asking of your daughter.

“No, that’s the name of the starfishies.” She replied, speaking as if this rule of hers was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, well maybe this is a girl, a girl named Paula.”

She looked at the giant vegetable with her eyes narrowed, carefully studying it with this new information. Ultimately, she decided her dad was speaking the truth and nodded her head. “Paula the pumpkin.”

“That’s the most Paula-looking pumpkin I’ve ever seen.” You contributed your opinion as you walked closer to them.

“Hi Mama. Do you like the pumpkin Cosmo picked? I helped.” She said, perked up with pride.

“You guys did an amazing job.” You said. “You don’t need to keep that heavy jacket on now that you’re inside, Miss Thing.”

She fumbled with the combination of zipper and buttons on her winter coat. But she succeeded without assistance and pulled the garment off, handing it to you straight away.

“How about you go check if Papa needs any help making lunch?” Ethan suggested.

She left for the kitchen and you turned to look at your boyfriend, a displeased look on your face when you began to speak. “You got the smallest one they had, eh?”

“The kids picked it. What was I supposed to do- tell them that they picked wrong?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to redirect them.” You said. “Come on, we talked about this and we all agreed- no more pumpkins bigger than Moe. They’re gonna drive us nuts, asking every day for it to be moved around the veranda, or from the front veranda to the back, then the opposite.”

“I know, but you should have seen how excited he was, he was planning out all the cool things he would have space to add. I didn’t have the heart to stifle his creativity.” He said, clearly trying to win you over with his sweetness.

“You let my children run wild, Ethan.” You attempted to maintain your stern tone.

The expression on his face changed as he switched to the tactic of distracting you. “You smell like hairspray, have you been working on the wig again? I would love to see the progress.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” You said sarcastically.

Before he could continue his facade, everything was interrupted by your son’s crying coming through the speaker you held. Bowie had woken up, providing Ethan with a great distraction.

He grabbed the baby monitor before you had a chance to react. “I’ve got him.” Swiftly he was disappearing out of the room and up the staircase.

You gave the large pumpkin another look. You were glad that this year you had an excuse to count you out of the three kids' consistent redecorating ideas. It got very tedious trying to keep up with them deciding, then re-evaluating the perfect spot for the heavy decoration.

By the time Ethan came into the kitchen with Bowie the toddler had stopped crying. You were sitting with the rest of your kids along the island, everyone enjoying their own serving of scrambled eggs. Damiano was making sure each child had the drink they wanted.

“He’s okay.” Ethan said of Bowie, who was looking around the room with bright eyes. “He just wanted us to know that he’s awake.” Ethan tapped him on his tiny nose.

The kids had been told that their crafting would begin once lunch was finished, prompting them to start asking as soon as Sylvia’s plate was cleared. They were made to wait until everybody was done, with Ethan the last one eating. He purposefully took smaller and slower bites, earning him theatrical groans from the three eldest.

Damiano took care of tidying up, leaving you and Ethan to get the various crafts prepared. For Cosmo’s pumpkin carving, Ethan laid some sheets from the newspaper onto the floor. The twins were easy to organise, they would be taking their textas to print-outs of pumpkins to be hung up in the windows. You picked out the pots of face-paint that had been purchased for you to help Bowie turn your pregnant belly into a festive pumpkin. You had some old towels on hand for the mess that was certainly coming your way.

He eagerly took one of the paintbrushes that you offered, once you were seated somewhat-comfortably on the floor. Your son turned away from you, uninterested in what you were doing at present. Wobbly steps took him over to where his siblings were gathered, around and on top of the newspaper in anticipation of Ethan bringing the pumpkin over.

“Hey Dada, what’s my star sign?” Cosmo asked, the horoscope section catching his eye.

Once Ethan answered this, the girls wanted to know theirs. This led to Ethan reading out the two horoscopes, which were peppered with words the kids didn’t understand, his explanations slowing the whole process down. Sylvia got bored first, leaving for the table where all of the colouring supplies were set up.

He and Cosmo were still drawing out their ideas on the pumpkin when Damiano came into the room. You were using a marker to create a guide for the painting on your skin while Bowie gave each of the brushes careful check-overs (some of the handles required a taste test). The twins were making the most progress, their markers quickly moving across the pages, their focus secured. Damiano checked that you didn’t need any assistance before stationing himself with the girls.

You wiped the handles of one of the brushes on the towel before dipping it into the orange paint. “Are you ready to paint, baby Bowie?”

He raised his brush into the air. “Pah.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “You wanna help Mama paint this section, right here in the centre of her belly?”

He had a serious look on his face as he scooted closer to you, apparently ready to concentrate on the craft. You handed your brush to him and he took a long look at the thick orange liquid on the bristles. You feared that he would touch it to his face, or worse, try to eat it.

But he proved his skills, applying the bristles to the taut skin of your tummy. The paint felt slimy on your skin as he worked the brush up-and-down, seeming to understand that this was somewhat similar to when he painted at his baby easel. You were unbothered when some of his brush strokes partially went over your outline of an eye.

“Wow, that looks so good already.” You enthused.

He nodded his head as he accepted from you the alternate brush dipped in paint. “Good.”

He wasn’t the most gentle as he made contact with your skin, applying the paint over on your side. There was a method to how he worked, spreading the orange further across your tummy. There had been many attempts at trying to get him excited over the fact that you were growing a brand new baby in there. It was hard to tell how much he absorbed this information, but what you really cared about was that he was enjoying decorating your large belly.

“Okay, now push with your elbow until the blade of the knife goes all the way in.” Ethan instructed as he held his hand over Cosmo’s on the serrated knife.

Cosmo wore a look of great concentration, his brow furrowed as he sucked on his upper lip. He moved the knife carefully, pushing until more than the pointed tip disappeared into the real pumpkin. Ethan held the vegetable steady with his other hand as Cosmo kept working the knife in.

While colouring with the twins, Damiano had found a doll-sized cowboy hat. It was quite common to come across misplaced pieces of toys around your home, so he didn’t bother to question it. He balanced the tiny hat on the tip of his index finger, absentmindedly keeping it elevated.

This caught Bowie’s eye, taking his attention away from painting. He got to his feet and you had just enough time to take the messy brush off of him before he wandered away. He went directly over to his dad, reaching for his arm.

“Hey, little man.” Damiano enthusiastically greeted him.

“Hat.” Bowie said.

“Oh, is this yours?” Damiano asked, offering the small hat to him. “Are you a cowboy?” Damiano placed the miniature accessory atop Bowie’s head, towards the centre where it could be somewhat steady. Immediately he was giggling, not needing to see his reflection to find this funny. “It looks really terrific on you. It must be your hat because it suits you so well.”

Bowie whipped around to face you, the hat slipping off of his hair in the process. Damiano quickly remedied this, holding Bowie still with a hand on his shoulder until the hat was back in place.

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 309: Back to the Study Clinics, p1

That was one of the hardest things I’ve done in a while, just a few minutes ago, leave that beautiful, perfectly built woman alone, asleep in my apartment. There’s nothing I’d rather have done than snuck back under the sheets with Melissa and spend the rest of the morning - even after my pretty embarrassing loss of control against her as she slept. But, duty called and here I am - in the office. I had taken the chance to clean off what I could from Melissa’s remarkable behind, shower quick, and get dressed. Through the whole thing she basically slept, though she did give me a drowsy little kissy-face when I told her ‘bye, I’ve gotta go to work.’

“Yeah there are nights she barely sleeps at all,” Josie was explaining to me, as I readied myself in the hallway to go in to see our first study clinic patient for the morning, waiting in an exam room a few doors down. If you remember, our office had become an external study site for testing Evolution Pharmaceuticals new OTC dietary supplement for women as they looked for FDA approval. “And then there are times,” Josie finished, “where she’s, like, comatoast.”

“Comatose,” I corrected h-

“Yeah whatever,” she continued, pressing on. Josie, one of my new, poorly-trained medical assistants, had known Melissa a long time. Though younger than my new Office Manager by five years or so, I think, she understood her friend well and somehow in fact knew she was upstairs in my apartment sleeping off a night of vodka. That my staff knew my Office Manager had spent the night with me was a little embarrassing, a lot unprofessional, but just another small chip out of the armor of my professional dignity and male pride. “She can sometimes sleep for, like, two days straight,” Josie continued, readjusting her long, medium-brown hair in its ponytail, “especially if she gets really excited.” 

At that, I tried not to blush, or notice how - with her hands behind her head - Josie’s breasts seemed quite big today.

“Anything really exciting happen last night? This morning? Hm?” Josie then giggled, taking a second to adjust the strap of her bra through her thin blue scrubs. The ‘wink wink’ in her voice was plain to hear, and it brought flashes of memories, Melissa’s and my time together on the couch, and in bed. Josie seemed to know more than she should.

“Well, I think all you girls got a little excited at the bar last night, by the election results,” I began, loathe to start recounting the more lurid details of the evening to my young employee, “but, let’s get to work. Now, why are we doing this on a Wednesday, seeing study patients? Tell me again what that email said?”

“They said they’re fast-tracking everything, ‘cuz of the election results,” Josie explained, reaching out to readjust the two pens in the chest pocket of my new lab coat. The girls had ordered a few in smaller sizes for me. “Evolution needs us to see at least twenty a week now th-"

“Twenty? For real?” I remarked, the idea of it boggling my mind, which was already reeling after the election results, “that’s more than twice as many as we said would be doable when we started..!”

“Yeah I dunno…” Josie agreed, with a noncommittal shrug.

I huffed in my indignity, knowing I really had very little say in the matter at this point. Olivia, Sheryl, Gianna…they were the real decision makers with this thing; as much as I hated to admit it I was more a worker-bee at this point, a drone. The women who ran things at Evolution controlled the money, and - acutely aware of how my geriatric practice was suffering, how anemic it’d become under recent mismanagement - I knew we needed the cash.

“Anyway, who’s supposed to see this patient with me?” I began again, knowing that Josie was scheduled to assist my APRN Vida with Mr. Kowalski’s procedure down the hall, “And what’s this first patient’s name?”

“Her name’s Thalia, Thalia Bates. I don’t think you’ve seen her before. She started on treatment at Evolution. She’s the daughter of some politician guy, a senator from like Minnesota or Canada or something,”  Josie answered, handing me a chart, “and it’s Karen, the new nurse, who’ll be coming in with you. She’s worked with the patient before but I don’t think she’s here yet so-”

I opened the manila folder but just then both Josie and I turned our heads to see Angie, one of the girls from accounting, step out of one of the study exam rooms down the hall, the one where my patient awaited, and scoot quickly away in the opposite direction. She was shoving something into her purse. 

I saw Josie’s eyes narrow. She pulled out her phone, started a text.

“Anyway, I really have to get started so if you’ll excuse me…” I announced, snapping the patient’s chart closed and moving towards the room. I was a little confused why an accountant would be in a room with a patient but whatever. 

“Wait wait,” Josie stopped me, actually stepping towards me as I approached the room, “I didn’t think you were supposed to see these patients alone, by yourself? Karen’s not here yet?””

“It’s fine,” I replied, entering the room. With my first breath my vision began to swim. Spots, patterns appeared on the walls, straight lines and vines warped and everything in my world suddenly became focused on one thing…

“Hi doctor,” the hyper-developed teen seated in a chair across the small room from me chirped, “I’m Thalia…”

==========================================

More GITJ at my Patreon

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

When Love and Hate Collide: Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Their next show a few days later went phenomenally, like always. The band and crew were now making their way over to Asia. They had to spend a week on the bus before they went to the airport. Y/N found it to be an odd experience. She found it difficult to sleep the first night as she discovered that more than one of the band members snored. She wasn’t sure who but she knew it wasn’t Sav. They would all be spending a lot more time on the bus in Asia as they would be there for a longer period of time, so she needed to get used to it. She inwardly groaned at that. 

The flight over there wasn’t too bad as she slept for most of it, Vivian standing guard yet again to make sure no one tried to draw on her face. When they landed, they got straight on the buses that were waiting for them, taking to the same beds as before. As she sat down on her bunk, she noticed Joe pull the curtain across straight away, not even giving her a glance. 

Y/N was still wondering what was going on with Joe. She didn’t want to pry and she knew it was nothing to do with her but she was worried that she had done something to him still. She knew that the rest of the band knew what was going on. They weren’t maliciously keeping it from her but rather, she assumed, to respect Joe and his privacy. 

Despite how Joe was still ignoring her after being on tour with them for just over a week, there was a funny feeling come over her when he looked at her. A feeling that Y/N hadn’t felt since she met her ex-boyfriend. She knew it would be best to stay away from Joe for a while, as much as her job made it possible, until she figured out what she was feeling. The last thing she needed was to develop a school-girl crush on a man who wouldn’t even give her the time of day.

They still had a week before their first show and they would be spending that time on the bus as well. The downside to staying on the tour bus was that there was no shower. They had to wash down with a flannel everyday, which was less than ideal. There were eight adults living together on the bus including Y/N and their bus driver so everyone was trying the best they could to prevent any unpleasantness for the people living with them. 

Tension seemed to be rising between Joe and Y/N. Sav thought that Joe was starting to turn a corner and at least be polite towards the young woman, but apparently not. Sav himself couldn’t pinpoint what was causing Joe’s bad mood this time, but he and the rest of the band were trying their best to be extra nice to their tour assistant.

*

Their first week in Asia went quickly and soon enough, they found themselves in the hotel the night before their first show in Thailand. As they were checking in, Mal gave Y/N another updated itinerary telling her where the boys had to be and when. Y/N made sure she studied it well, not wanting to be late anywhere or to show up at the wrong venue accidently.

Sav collected her for dinner after she lost track of time and Y/N could feel the awkwardness that had surrounded them for the previous two weeks, continue. Trying not to seem bothered by it all, Y/N started questioning everyone, making sure they were settled in alright and ready for the show. 

“As long as you don’t walk into anyone else then I think we’ll all be fine. We have done this before.” Joe almost spat at her, shocking everyone around the table. 

Y/N didn’t even bother to react. She didn’t let it show that his words affected her. Sav gave Joe a sharp look and kicked him under the table but Joe didn’t seem bothered by this. 

The table remained fairly quite after that, Y/N looking down the entire time to avoid eye contact with anyone else, she was left slightly embarrassed after Joe’s outburst, she knew that they had done this many times before, but it was her job to make sure they had everything and if they forgot something it would fall onto her.

When they had finished, Y/N quickly excused herself and headed back to her room for the evening. As she left, the rest glared at their lead singer. 

“Well, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.” Sav scoffed. Joe just looked up at him refusing to say anything. “You know you have to apologise to her.” He continued when Joe didn’t respond.

“Yeah I’ll pass.”

“No you won’t,” Phil spoke up, “You said you would be civil with her.” 

Rolling his eyes, Joe realised he was on his own. With a huff, he got up from his seat and followed in the direction their assistant went. It registered in him that he wasn’t listening when she had told him her room number earlier. Turning round he looked at Sav who rolled his eyes.

“625”

Joe gave another nod and made his way towards the lift. The truth was he wasn’t sure what prompted him to make that comment to her. He didn’t know where this anger was building up from again. Maybe it was because he started to let his guard down slightly when he promised to be nice, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Or maybe it was the comment that Mal had made a few weeks ago about her replacing him. Joe knew Malvin was joking but the idea of her being in charge of their tours when he barely wanted to be around her irritated him.

Once he got to the sixth floor, he slowed down his pace, wanting to delay this as much as possible. He hated apologising at the best of times. Counting the rooms as he went, he finally got to Y/N’s room. It was quiet there and for a moment he thought that she wasn’t in there. However, then he heard her moving about inside and decided to knock, knowing that the others wouldn’t let him be until he apologised.

It wasn’t long before she came to the door and Joe felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of her. She was a short but modest nightdress, with her hair plaited so it didn’t get tangled overnight. She had taken the little make-up that she wore throughout the day off and the main light in the room was switched out, leaving the bedside lamp on. It was obvious to Joe that she was about to go to bed.

Joe didn’t realise that he was staring until Y/N softly cleared her throat. For some reason Joe couldn’t find any words. He moved his eyes from her legs, up to her face but he just stood there like an idiot.

“Why are you here Joe?” Y/N asked in a tired tone.

[silvfyre-writings]

Don't go without me (BSD Fanfic)

I bring you some more bramran hehe, I hope you all enjoy <3

Ranpo likes hugs.

In fact, Ranpo likes physical affection of any kind, however hugs tend to be his go to whenever the chance arises to receive some affection, Bram has noticed. Like right now, in the office of the Agency, Ranpo is seated on the couch, pressed up against Dazai who doesn’t seem all that bothered for someone that usually rejects all kinds of physical affection and is instead running his hands through Ranpo’s hair, the two quietly chatting about something that he can’t decipher. No one else in the office seems bothered either by the fact that the two genius detectives aren’t doing any work, but then again, since the near end of the world with a certain rat of a man, work for them has been slow.

Not that Bram works of course.

No, he just sits around the office and does nothing.

And that’s fine by him.

It allows him to study those of the Agency with careful eyes, to see what kind of people they are that he chose to align himself with—even weeks after the incident he still runs over the passionate speech that Ranpo used to convince him to their side. A speech that resonated within Bram’s own heart that was simply tired of being used for other people’s gain. So in a way it had been unnecessary with the conflict that’d been within his own heart, yet Bram welcomed it all the same. It showed him that Ranpo would do anything to make sure that those closest to him were safe, and upon agreeing to the younger’s terms, that included Bram as well.

Unfamiliar and strange yet… nice.

And now Bram’s been thrown into a mundane life where no one expects anything of him and he can live peacefully—so long as he doesn’t start turning the people of Yokohama into vampires just for the sake of it. Not that he has any intention of doing so because he’d much rather spend his days listening to the music that Aya insists upon him and getting some much needed rest. Which is what he’s in the process of doing; observing the Agency members as they move about is just his way of drifting off to sleep.

He watches the doctor enter the room and head straight towards Ranpo and Dazai, demanding that they sit still while she checks their still healing wounds. Bram can hear a little grumbling come from the geniuses, but they do as she asks, so Bram turns his attention elsewhere. He’s still learning the names of those at the Agency, mostly because he’s still figuring out the language for the most part and sometimes he struggles to decipher name from word—he’s getting better at it though, so Aya has told him in her efforts to teach him.

Now his attention is on the young ones of the Agency; the boy and the girl that are still children but were forced into growing up far too soon. The two are playing some sort of game that Bram doesn’t recognise, overseen by the tiger boy and the redhead, but they all have smiles on their faces which tells him that they’re having fun.

“Whatcha looking at?” Bram turns his gaze upwards, to see Ranpo leaning against the arm of the couch with his elbows. There’s a fresh bandage on the hand that’d been impaled that Ranpo’s not to subtly trying to pry loose with one of his fingers.

Bram reaches up to grab that hand with one of his own, holding it carefully in his grasp. “Just observing the young ones.”

Ranpo shifts his gaze towards the group, a look of understanding on his face. “Ah, yes. Fukuzawa-san found a bunch of games from when I was young and thought they might like them.”

“They are being children; such is a privilege in today’s society.” Bram says, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Well aren’t you being dramatic today.” Bram feels fingers dance across his forehead. “Everything alright?”

Maybe it’d be worth turning Ranpo into a vampire just so he couldn’t stand there and deduce Bram’s feelings like they were an open book.

But then again, if he does that, it means he’ll lose that caring bluntness that he loves so much.

He’ll settle for pretending he didn’t hear Ranpo instead.

Which of course, never works.

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Ranpo whines, dropping down to nuzzle into the side of Bram’s neck, his arms crossing over Bram’s chest.

Bram grunts and cracks open an eye as he glances down at Ranpo. “I could not if I tried.”

“Good, then tell me what you’re thinking about already.”

“Why?” Bram asks.

A slender finger jabs him in the cheek none too gently and Bram fights the urge to bite the offending appendage off, instead raising a hand to swat at the annoyance instead. “Because I’m such a loving and caring partner that wants to know why you look so down today.”

“You are just being nosy.”

“Yeah, I am.” Ranpo admits without any hesitation. “So you might as well just tell me.”

Bram sighs and tips his head back, both eyes open to look into Ranpo’s own that stare down at him, the easy smile on the detective’s face more than enough to relax him. “I am just tired.”

“Tired?” Ranpo repeats, cocking his head to the side.

He nods. “Tired. That is all.”

“Well then I say we rectify that with a nap!” And before Bram can even protest, he’s being shoved upright so that Ranpo can squeeze onto the couch behind him, all of the shorter’s limbs enveloping him in a hug that really shouldn’t be as comfortable as it is. Bram feels a bit like he’s in his coffin, only instead of hard walls and a single pillow, he’s surrounded in warmth and all the pillows he could ever need.

It makes him feel alive.

He turns over to bury his face into Ranpo’s stomach, mumbling under his breath. “Do not leave.”

“I won’t.” Ranpo runs a hand through Bram’s hair. “A case may come through, but I’ll wake you if that happens.”

“Mmkay.” Bram murmurs, and closes his eyes.

And then opens them seconds later as quiet footsteps approach the couch.

Kunikida stands before them, a folder in hand and apologetic look on his face as he addressed Ranpo. “Minoura-san called with a case. Urgent, he doesn’t want to waste time in trying to find the killer. He said he’ll buy as many sweets as you want if you’ll help.”

Bram can hear the pout in Ranpo’s voice without having to even see it. “I’m with Bram.”

“I know, but it’s urgent, Ranpo-san.”

Ranpo lets out another grumble that prompts Bram to raise his head. “It will be fine. I will be here when you get back.”

Another grumble, but this time, Ranpo extricates himself from underneath Bram, making his displeasure known as he snatches the folder out of Kunikida’s hands. “Minoura owes me big time for this.”

Bram watches as Ranpo walks off, gut churning with an emotion he can’t decipher, one that he can��t remember having ever felt before. Whatever it is, it left him watching Ranpo, wishing for him to come back even though logically, Ranpo had to work. It wasn’t the first time that their time together had been interrupted, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but this time it was different and Bram couldn’t figure out why that was. Nothing had changed between them since Ranpo’s last case—in fact, the only thing different was that they hadn’t spent much time together because that last case had taken Ranpo away from Yokohama and—

Wait.

Was he missing Ranpo?

Was that it?

Bram blinks and sits up, curiosity on his face as he studies the doorway that Ranpo had walked through just moments ago. It makes sense for him to miss Ranpo if he doesn’t get to spend a lot of time with the younger man, but why is it making an appearance now? Why not every other time? Is it because they’ve grown closer? Done more things together? Bram doesn’t understand it, but he does understand the feeling now; it’s just been some years since he last felt that way towards another person so he didn’t immediately recognise it.

But that feeling sends him upright, moving before he even realises as he strides down the hall to follow after Ranpo at a pace that would be considered a jog if he were shorter.

It doesn’t take long for him to catch up to Ranpo, and it only takes a few seconds for his love to hear him coming and turn around. Kunikida does as well, but Bram ignores him and throws himself at Ranpo, nearly sending the both of them crashing to the ground as he draws Ranpo into his arms into a tight hug.

“What is it?” Ranpo asks, seemingly shocked but getting right to the point.

Bram remains silent for a moment, letting the hug go on before he pulls back and stares intensely at Ranpo. “I want to come with you.”

Ranpo blinks up at him.

“I miss you.” Bram elaborates. “To rectify it, I wish to accompany you on this case.”

For a moment, Bram thinks that he’s done something wrong when Ranpo continues to stare at him, but that fear eases when Ranpo smiles widely at him, reaching out to grab one of Bram’s hands and entwine their fingers.

“Fine with me! You can buy me sweets!”

Bram rolls his eyes. “Ranpo, I have no money.”

“Just use Kunikida-kun’s card, he has plenty of money.”

“Please don’t.”

[popchoc]

Note: For this one to work as canon, Amelia's s19 timeline in Grey's - in particular her break-up with Kai - has to be shifted a few months forward, syncing up with Carina's in Station 19.

How Mad Would You Be If I Kissed You? Grey’s Anatomy - Amelia Shepherd & Carina DeLuca

As the door fell close behind her, Amelia scanned the bar, taking in the typical dark interior and unknown faces. Not in the mood to spend her night with friends or co-workers, she'd picked a place she'd never been to; some random Irish pub, a few blocks from the hospital.

The venue was lively, though not too crowded, exactly like she preferred, and without further thinking she made her way to the bar. Yet right before she reached it, she promptly stopped in her tracks. Almost hidden in the far corner booth, she spotted someone familiar after all.

For a moment, Amelia wanted to turn around and leave as quickly as possible. The woman in question, however, was Carina DeLuca, someone she wasn't too close with, yet actually liked quite a lot. And someone who just caught her, too, which would make her look like a total ass if she wouldn't even say hi.

As she got closer, she didn't just notice that Carina was alone, but also that she looked tired — sad almost.

"Carina, hey," she greeted her gently, before nodding towards the glass of red in front of her. "Drinking away your sorrows?"

Carina answered her with nothing but a weak smile. "How 'bout you?"

"I can't," Amelia shrugged, "Recovering alcoholic."

"Right," Carina nodded slowly, and then, with her head slightly tilted, "Visiting the local watering hole might not be the most helpful then."

Her voice was warm and caring, free of judgement, which made Amelia smile at her, instead of defensively snap.

"Who says I need help?"

This time Carina was the one to shrug. "Your eyes do. They look... different."

Though they didn't know each other that well, their paths had crossed a few times in some interesting ways, including Amelia's participation in Carina's study — leading to the discovery of her brain tumor — and Carina delivering Amelia's baby. Not the most common circumstances, but strangely enough all situations in which they both seemed to feel quite comfortable around each other, considering.

Not waiting for an invite, Amelia sat down across from her.

"Here's what I think. We can talk problems, or we can talk solutions." Her gaze followed Carina's towards the wine on the table. She reached out, moving the glass to the side. "Not that one."

Carina cocked her head again, intrigued.

"I'm not here for the booze. There are more ways to feel better. Much healthier ways, too." Wiggling her brows, she went on, "You of all people should know that."

For the first time in weeks, Carina giggled.

Folding her arms on the table, Amelia leaned forward, looking Carina straight in the eyes.

"How mad would you be if I kissed you?"

The question elicited a bright laugh from Carina. "I'm not one to get mad that easily," she answered, shaking her head in amusement, "My wife, howeve—"

As a flash of pain clouded her face like some dark shadow, she abruptly fell quiet.

Amelia swiftly sat back again. "Shit, Carina, I'm sorry. I didn't want to..."

"It's okay."

"I just... I- I heard some rumors," Amelia stammered, "But they were all different, and I... I honestly have no idea how you... what happened to..."

"It's okay," Carina told her again. Sighing deeply, she lifted her hand, showing Amela her ringless finger. "It's true. I just... forgot so for a moment. I'm not exactly used to the new situation yet." She forced a smile, quietly adding, "So if this is you asking me for a menage a trois again, I'm afraid you'd have to provide the third party."

Despite Carina's sadness, one that Amelia didn't just feel but shared as well, she chuckled. "First of all, I kind of hoped you'd forgotten about that. And second, I just got my ass dumped."

"You did?" Shifting in her seat, Carina embraced the distraction that Amelia's situation just offered her. Not that she didn't feel bad for her — or worse: wanted to prey — but because she got hit by a sudden, rather entertaining realization.

They were both single.

For the first time since they'd met, they were both free as a bird. At the same time. Shattered and grieving and anywhere near moving on, maybe, but free. For the first time their playful flirtations didn't had to be all innocent.

Amelia was right. They could focus on their loss, on their pain, or they could allow themselves some relief - even if it wouldn't solve anything. It for sure would get her through the night though, help her face another day in which things could still go either way; in which doors could be slammed for good, or maybe, just maybe, be opened a little.

When Carina stayed quiet, distracted by the train of thoughts, Amelia narrowed her eyes "What is it?"

Leaning in, the corner of Carina's mouth quirked up, followed by her eyebrows.

"Ask me again."

"Ask you what?" a confused Amelia asked. But then she caught the sparkle in Carina's eye. A laugh escaped her and she nodded in understanding, reaching out again to rest her hand on top Carina's. Squeezing it lightly, she looked up at her through her lashes.

"How mad would you be if I kissed you?"

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

requested by @englishstrawbie | prompt list | my AO3

[icemavs]

Springsteen (pt. 1)

Link to previous chapter: 1 Chapter 2 (5.5k, T, ao3)

Bradley had been officially dating Jake for almost a whole month, and he made sure everyone knew it. He held Jake’s hand in the hallways at school, Jake was always over at Bradley’s house, Bradley attending every single one of Jake’s wrestling matches. They were happy. 

Bradley was getting a little anxious with the upcoming Christmas season. Mav had said he was going to San Diego and he needed Bradley to decide as soon as possible what his plans were. Bradley didn’t want to invite himself over to Jake’s parent’s house for the holiday, seeing as he’d never met them and Jake still didn’t really talk about them much outside of complaining about his father. But he also didn’t want to leave Jake for the holidays.

They had been sitting in Bradley’s room, working on Jake’s latest physics assignment when Bradley brought it up. 

“Jake, what are your plans for the holidays?” he asked, not looking up from the textbook. 

“I guess I don’t really know,” Jake replied. “Why? What are yours?”

Bradley shook his head and still didn’t look up. “I’m not really sure. Mav said he’s going to San Diego to see Ice, but I don’t really like flying around the holidays.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “And I don’t want to leave you,” he finished softly. 

“B, are you saying you want to meet my parents and stay with us for Christmas?” Jake asked, putting a hand on the side of Bradley’s face to finally tilt it up. 

“Kind of?” Bradley said, pitching his voice up as if he was asking a question. “I don’t want to stay home alone, but you never really talk about your family or anything so I don’t want to intrude and I can just go with Mav it will be fi-” Jake cut Bradley off with a kiss. 

“You’re doing it again,” he said, pulling back and smiling. “You’re rambling when you’re anxious.”

Bradley felt a flush creep up his cheeks and let a small smile grace his lips. God, he really liked Jake, and how he made him feel. He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him, if only for a few days. 

Jake must have noticed his lingering hesitance. “You can come and stay with me over Christmas,” he continued. “As long as you need.”

“Thank you, Jake,” Bradley said, his smile growing to crinkle his eyes. 

They went back to studying for a few more hours, Jake leaving to head home, blaming early practice the next morning for his departure. Once he was gone, Bradley burst into the kitchen where Mav was sitting with an aircraft manual open on the counter, no doubt prepping for his next class after his short break. 

“Mav, I’m not going to San Diego,” he declared. 

Mav looked up, startled. “Okay?” he questioned. “Any particular reason?”

“I’m going to meet Jake’s parents,” he said with an air of finality, but he could hear the wavering anxiety in his voice. 

“That’s great, Bradley,” Mav replied, a huge smile on his face. “I’ll only be gone for three days, so you know, if anything happens, you just come straight home, okay?”

Bradley looked at him, confused by his response, but he chose to ignore it. It was probably just Mav being overprotective, nothing for Bradley to worry about. 

A week later, Bradley jumped in the car with Jake after packing a few sets of clothes to spend the next few days over at Jake’s house. He bounced his leg nervously in the passenger seat until Jake reached a hand over to rest it on his thigh. Bradley looked over and smiled at Jake, resting his own hand on top of Jake’s where it remained for the rest of the short drive. 

Once they pulled into the driveway, Jake put the car in park and immediately turned to Bradley. 

“Listen, B,” he started. “My parents don’t know we’re a couple.”

Bradley balked at him. “They what?”

“I know I should have told you this sooner, but I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he said. “They won’t care if we sleep in the same room or the same bed, but we just can’t be super handsy around them.”

Bradley nodded slowly. “So I’m just a friend who’s not-dad was leaving for the holiday, and you invited me over?” he asked. 

“Yes exactly,” Jake confirmed. “My dad can be a little homophobic. That’s why I’m not out to them. I don’t really know what they would say.”

“Got it. I will be on my best behavior,” Bradley said and gave Jake a mocking salute. 

Jake leaned in for one last kiss before they walked inside the house together. When they got in, Bradley was immediately ambushed by a large Golden Retriever. 

“That’s Goose,” Jake said, laughing as he pulled the dog from Bradley.

When he heard the name, Bradley froze. “Goose?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Jake said, slowly setting his backpack on the floor and leaning down to untie his shoes. “Why?”

“Um, nothing,” Bradley started. He was about to speak again when a woman, he assumed it was Jake’s mother, walked into the entryway. “I’ll tell you later,” he finished under his breath. 

“Hi, you must be Bradley,” Jake’s mother said. “I’m June, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad you’re here with us.” She walked over to give Bradley a big hug and ruffle Jake’s hair. Jake groaned in protest and tried his best to smooth his hair back down. Bradley wished he wouldn’t, he looked hot with his hair all messed up, but he kept his words to himself, since he was supposed to be acting straight. 

“Hi, Mrs. Seresin,” Bradley said as he returned the hug.

Once greetings with Jake’s present siblings were exchanged, Jake and Bradley made their way to the basement to drop off Bradley’s bags in Jake’s bedroom. 

“So,” Bradley started. “This is where the famous Jake Seresin spends his time when he’s not at my house.” He was looking around the room to take it all in. It was a modest size, as was the rest of the house. The walls were plastered with posters of athletes, the ones that Bradley knew were Jake’s favorites. There was a closet that was filled to the brim with clothes and football gear, stored away for the rest of the year. 

Jake was standing near the doorway, hands in his pockets and looking slightly uncomfortable. 

Bradley frowned at him and took the few steps it was to stand in front of Jake. “What’s the matter?” he asked, starting to reach his hands out to put them on Jake’s face before thinking better of it. Instead he tapped Jake on the chest, letting the last of the taps linger a second. 

Jake shook his head slightly. “Nothing, it’s just…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor. After a beat and a big sigh, he lifted his head to look Bradley in the eyes. “I wish I could hold your hand in front of my parents without being scared that they’re going to disown me or something stupid.” Bradley could see tears dancing on the edges of Jake’s eyes.

“Oh, Jake,” Bradley sighed. He pulled him into a big hug while reaching behind Jake to shut the door slightly. “I will never understand what that feels like, but just know that if anything ever does happen, you always have a place with us. Always.” Bradley paused to think if he should say what he was thinking out loud. Fuck it. “I love you, okay?”

Jake pulled back from the hug but stayed in Bradley’s arms. His eyes were lit up, wet from the tears that never fell, but crinkled at the corners from the smile that was growing on his face. “You love me?” he asked.

“Yeah, Jake,” Bradley said. “No one has ever made me feel as good as you do, and I guess, maybe, I don’t know, it’s a little early to say anything, and we’re still in high sch–.” Jake leaned in to press a soft kiss to Bradley’s lips. 

“B, you’re doing it again.” He kissed Bradley’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

Bradley cracked a smile and closed his arms even tighter around Jake’s middle, Bradley’s heart thrumming with joy. “This is the best Christmas ever,” he said into Jake’s hair. Bradley couldn’t believe he was falling this hard, this fast, for this boy. There was no one that would be able to replace him. 

Later that night, Bradley was the happiest he had ever felt holding Jake close while music played quietly from Jake’s stereo. He traced a hand up the side of Jake’s arm and listened to the soft hums coming from Jake in time with the music. 

“B?” Jake asked. “What was it you were gonna tell me earlier? When you met Goose?”

If he was being honest, Bradley had almost forgotten about that. “You know how I call Mav and Ice, well, Mav and Ice?” he started. “It’s their callsign that they earned during their first assignment as pilots.”

“Yes, Bradley, I know what callsigns are,” Jake said, tilting his head up to press a small kiss on the underside of Bradley’s jaw. “What does that have to do with this?” “Well, Goose was my dad’s,” Bradley said simply. Jake shifted so he was resting on his elbows, now facing Bradley. “It was his dad’s nickname for him when he was little, and the older pilots got a hold of that information when he got to the squadron and it was voted as his callsign with overwhelming majority.” He paused to think of Mav telling him the story. “At least that’s what Mav tells me.”

Jake smiled at him and leaned down to kiss Bradley. “I couldn’t be more proud to have a dog named after such an amazing man.”

As if on cue, Goose nudged the door open and jumped up on the bed and onto Bradley making him lose his breath and Jake let out a loud laugh. 

***

2016

The rest of the year passed Bradley by in a blur, more time spent with Jake, Mav, or Ice, when he came to visit. By the time school started back up after the break, Bradley was beginning to get stressed out with his application for the United States Naval Academy. It was the only thing he had ever wanted to do his whole life. His father had gone. Ice had gone. Maverick didn’t but that was a special circumstance. All his heroes were amazing naval aviators, and Bradley knew that his path to fly fighter jets was through the Academy. 

Bradley was often zoned out during classes, thinking about writing his personal essay that would determine if he got in or not. He knew he had the grades, he had the athleticism, he had the desire. The only thing holding him back at this point was himself and his damned writing skills. He would ask Jake for help, seeing as Jake was much more eloquent than Bradley, but they hadn’t once mentioned the future to each other, so Bradley didn’t know what the reaction was going to be when he told Jake he was going to the Academy. 

So, he would suffer through. Or ask Ice for help. Either way, it was going to get done. 

He stressed about it so much that Mav had started to worry about him. Mav would take an extra day off during the week, usually Friday, so he and Bradley could go to dinner or a movie that evening when Bradley got home from school. Bradley noticed that Mav was on the phone in his home office more frequently and for longer periods of time. He assumed it was talking to Ice, but every once in a while he would raise his voice, and in all the years Bradley had known Ice and Mav – his whole damn 18 years of life – they had never raised their voices at each other. The dinners and phone calls went on for a few more weeks. 

Then, on the first day of spring break, Bradley got the letter in the mail that he had been denied admission to the Naval Academy due to “potential personal conflict that could arise due to his attendance.” He tore the envelope open the second he saw it was in the mail, leaving a trail of paper on his way from the front door to the kitchen counter. Mav was leaning up against the counter eating some yogurt. 

“Whatcha got there, Bradley?” Mav asked him around a spoonful of yogurt. 

Bradley ignored his question, too engrossed in the contents of the letter. “What?” he shouted once he had read it. And read it again. And a third time. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Without looking up, Bradley could sense Mav tensing up where he was standing. Slowly, Bradley raised his head. 

“I didn’t get in,” he said quietly. He could feel a lump forming in his throat but there was no fucking way he would let himself cry. “I didn’t fucking get in. I did everything perfectly for four goddamn years of my life. I never made any other plans because I was so sure I would get in.” He paused to steady his breathing. He read over that line one more time, “personal conflicts that could arise due to his attendance.” He could feel the gears turning as the tension in the room became thicker, Mav turning around to set his spoon in the sink, and more importantly turn his back to Bradley. 

“Mav,” Bradley said slowly. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he was ignoring it for now. “They said I didn’t get in due to personal conflicts with my attendance. What does that mean?” Bradley didn’t want to assume anything, there was no reason he had cause to assume anything, but he also knew how much pull both Ice and Mav had in the Navy.

Mav’s shoulders shifted as he sighed and turned back around to face Bradley. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Before he could, Bradley spoke, finally having had enough and needing to ask for himself. 

“Did you have something to do with this?” he asked. Mav had been so worried about him these last few weeks. And Bradley’s whole life. Mav always wanted Bradley to stay out of the military, opting to take him to science or art museums rather than the airplane and army equipment museums Bradley would have much rather gone to. Mav would often get quiet when Bradley talked about how great of a pilot he was and how lucky his dad was to have been Mav’s RIO. It was often only Ice that indulged Bradley’s navy and aviation questions.

Mav sighed again. Bradley jumped in once again before Mav could open his mouth. “Did you have something to do with this?” he asked again, though this time it sounded more like an accusation than a real question. “Are you the personal conflict?”

This time Mav finally spoke. “I might have been,” was all he said. 

“You might have been?” Bradley shouted again. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You know better than anyone that all I’ve wanted my entire life is to be a navy pilot. And you know that the first step to being the best I can be starts at the Academy. I had a better chance than almost anyone in the entire fucking country at getting in.” Bradley was furious. Why would Mav interfere?

“Because it wouldn’t be good for you, Bradley,” Mav said, starting to raise his voice, too. “I know what happens to guys who go through the Academy and become aviators. I don’t want it to happen to you, too.” Mav tried to leave but Bradley wasn’t letting him without a better explanation. 

Bradley put up a hand to poke Mav in the chest. “How can you even say that? Ice went to the Academy, he turned out great and you love him.” He paused to level himself. “My fucking father went to the Academy,” he said in a low voice, hands now at his sides, curling into fists. 

“That’s my point exactly, Bradley,” Mav said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t let what happened to your dad happen to you, too.”

“Mav, that was a freak accident, you of all fucking people should know that!” Bradley was hardly able to look Mav in the face. He couldn’t stay in the house. “I can’t be here right now, I can’t be in the same room as you.” Bradley threw the mail down onto the counter. “Did Ice have anything to do with this?” he asked quietly. 

Mav shook his head and closed his eyes. “He had no idea.”

That was enough for Bradley. He turned on his heel and went up to his room to start packing a bag. There was no way he would spend the next week in that house with Mav and not have school to distract him. On his way up the stairs, he pulled out his phone and called Jake. 

On the second ring, Jake answered. “B? What’s up?” he asked. 

“I need to come over,” Bradley said flatly. “I can’t be here right now, is it okay if I come? I’ll explain when I get there I just need to get out.” He was haphazardly throwing random clothes into his duffel. 

“Bradley, are you safe?” Jake asked, worry present in his voice.

Bradley breathed a sigh and let a small smile, Jake would always make him feel better. “Yes, Jake, I am. I’ll explain when I get there, I promise.”

Once he was finished packing, Bradley raced down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab the letter off the counter before he left.

“Bradley?” Mav called out from the living room. Bradley saw him round the corner and into the kitchen. “Where are you going? Can’t we talk?”

Bradley didn’t respond and just kept walking toward the door. He heard Mav come up behind him and felt a hand around his wrist.

“Bradley, please,” Mav begged. 

“Consider yourself lucky if I ever speak to you again,” Bradley spat before jerking his arm away and hurrying out the door. He would have to walk to Jake’s house since he didn’t want to wait around for a ride, but it wasn’t far and the weather was nice enough.

Once Bradley got there, he noticed that there weren’t any cars in the driveway, but he saw Jake’s parked on the street and headed to the front door. He walked right in and Jake was waiting there with arms open wide and a sad smile on his face. When he saw Jake he felt tears start to form in his eyes and the lump in his throat was back. He practically fell into Jake’s arms. Jake tilted Bradley’s chin up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Bradley made a small sound in the back of his throat and let Jake kiss him until he started to forget about why he was so upset. 

“It’s okay, B, I’ve got you,” Jake whispered into Bradley’s shoulder when they pulled apart, a hand smoothing down the back of Bradley’s head. “Let’s go down to my room, yeah?”

Bradley took a deep breath and nodded his head from its spot lodged in the space between Jake’s neck and shoulder. He unstuck himself from Jake and grabbed his hand before following him down the stairs. 

“What’s going on, B?” Jake asked once they had sat down on the bed. He was still holding onto Bradley’s hand, and the only thing on Bradley’s mind was the warmth emanating from his boyfriend. He knew Jake would be able to make him feel better even when Bradley felt like his whole world was falling apart around him. 

“You know how we’ve never really talked about what we’re doing after we graduate?” Bradley began. Jake nodded his head slowly, confusion clear on his face. “Well, I never really wanted to talk about it because I was applying to the U.S. Naval Academy, and the chances of seeing each other would be so low if I got in. And I’ve been one of the best candidates to get in.” He paused. “Well, according to Ice, and I’m inclined to believe him.” Bradley huffed a small laugh. 

Before he could start again, Jake cut in, talking excitedly. “You got your letter today then, too?” he asked. 

“Wait, what? Too?” Bradley was caught off guard.

“Well, like you said, we never talked about after graduation, and because you never brought it up, I never did either, but I applied to the Academy, too! I got my acceptance letter today!” The look on Jake’s face was one of pure happiness. “You must have gotten your acceptance letter today, too!”

Bradley was too stunned to speak. He wanted more than anything to be happy for Jake, to congratulate him and hug him and kiss him and tell him that he’s proud. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was trying so hard to muster up a smile, anything that would let Jake know he loved him. Jake’s smile started to fade and was replaced by a look of confusion. 

“Jake, I didn’t get in,” Bradley said quietly. “Mav pulled some bullshit and I didn’t fucking get in.” He threw his letter onto the bed in front of Jake. 

“He what?” Jake asked incredulously, his voice starting to rise. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what happened but he used his stupid influence to pull my papers so they denied me.” Bradley was fighting tears. First his dad in everything but blood absolutely fucked up his entire life, and now his boyfriend was taking his place. He couldn’t believe his luck. 

“There has to be someone you can talk to, right? Like Ice, can’t he do anything?” Jake asked frantically, reaching for Bradley but Bradley pulled away and stood up from the bed. “Isn’t he higher ranking than Mav?”

Bradley started to pace around the room, running his hands through his hair and causing it to stick straight up. “It doesn’t fucking matter at this point. There wouldn’t be anything anyone can do. The rest of the letters are already sent, all the spaces are full.” Bradley didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t be inside anymore, he needed fresh air, he needed to get out of the house and away from Jake. He loved him, loved him more than anything, but he didn’t want his frustrations to bring down Jake’s happiness. He leaned down to pick up his bag. 

“Bradley, where are you going?” Jake asked suddenly standing from the bed. 

“I need to go outside, I can’t be in here right now.” He was breathing heavily, his heart was hammering in his chest, and his head felt like it was going to explode. It was like the oxygen had suddenly disappeared from the room and he was the only one feeling the effects. His bag was forgotten on the floor as he went up the stairs and out the front door. 

It was still light outside and the air was thick but being able to see the sun setting was steadying his breathing. He sat on the warm concrete of the driveway, letting the small rocks digging into his palms bring him back to earth. He heard the door open and close behind him, followed by timid footsteps. Bradley didn’t turn his head to look, but in his peripheral vision he saw Jake sit down next to him. Not too close, but close enough.

“Bradley,” Jake said softly. “What’s wrong?” 

When Bradley didn’t respond, Jake scooted closer and set his hand on top of Bradley’s. Bradley still didn’t move his head, but he turned his hand over to grip onto Jake’s. They sat like that for a while until the sun was almost fully set behind the horizon. Silently, Bradley stood, still holding Jake’s hand, and led him back into the house. 

He didn’t say much the rest of the night, as much as Jake tried to get him to talk. Eventually, Jake seemed to understand that he wouldn’t get anything out of Bradley that night. They got ready for bed silently but when they laid down Bradley finally spoke. 

“All I’ve wanted my whole life was to be in a Navy fighter jet like my dad, like Mav, and like Ice. I’ve wanted to be in the air and above the clouds,” Bradley said quietly. Jake shifted to rest his head on Bradley’s chest. “Now that I don’t have the opportunity, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He sighed deeply. 

Jake rested his hand on Bradley’s chest and drew circles with his finger. “B, there are other ways,” he started. “You can do NROTC in college and commission. Enlist and get your degree while you’re in and then commission. There are so many options.” He continued with his circles and Bradley tried his hardest to focus on them instead of the thoughts circling his head. 

“It’s going to set me back, and I feel like I’ll never catch up.” Bradley brought his hand up and intertwined his fingers with Jake’s. “I love you, you know that right? I always will, and I’ll never forget you even if we’re apart.”

Through the darkness, Bradley could sense the confusion on Jake’s face, but he made no move to try and look at Bradley. 

“I love you, too, B,” Jake replied in a soft voice. 

They laid together there in the darkness until Bradley heard Jake’s breathing slow and knew he was asleep. He stayed in bed a few more minutes, already having made up his mind but still feeling like a weight on his chest was weighing him down. After laying still a while longer but before changing his mind, Bradley slid himself out from underneath Jake, careful not to wake him. He picked his bag up off the floor and threw his few clothes that had been strewn about the floor inside before zipping it up as quietly as he could. 

Bradley leaned over the bed to press a kiss to Jake’s forehead before making his way out the door and out to the driveway. He sat down on the now cooled concrete and pulled out his phone to find an Uber. It wasn’t too late, he should be able to get one. 

Once he had secured a ride to the airport, he stared at Ice’s name in his contacts before pressing the button to call him. It was the first time he had turned on his phone since leaving Mav’s house, so he was using every bit of will inside him to keep from opening all the texts from both Ice and Mav. 

“Bradley?” Ice answered the phone with a frantic voice after the first ring. “Mav and I have been trying to call you for hours, where are you?”

“I’m at Jake’s, I’m fine.” Bradley took a deep breath. “But I’m coming to San Diego. Now. I’m waiting for my ride to the airport.”

“What?” Ice shouted through the phone. “Bradley, why?”

“You didn’t have anything to do with it, right?” Bradley asked instead of answering Ice’s question. “Mav pulling my papers?”

“I tried to stop him, but there was nothing I could do,” Ice sighed. “It was too late by the time he told me about it.”

“Then I’m coming back to San Diego and finishing the school year there. I can’t be here anymore,” Bradley said. 

When Ice tried to bring up Jake, Bradley cut him off. “I’ll talk when I get home, my ride is here.” He hung up the phone and stared out into the darkness, waiting for the headlights to show up. 

The only thing Bradley remembers from the blur of the airport was his phone ringing while he was waiting in Dallas for his next flight. He saw the screen light up, first with Mav’s name then Jake’s after he let Mav’s call go to voicemail. He didn’t answer Jake’s either.

After a minute, the voicemail notification popped up. Against his better judgment, Bradley lifted his phone to his ear. 

“B, please,” Jake said breathlessly through the phone. “Come back. Don’t go.” There was a silence that followed before, “I love you,” preceded the click of the call ending. 

Thirteen hours later, Bradley was sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, and Ice sitting across from him. They hadn’t spoken on the car ride from the airport or since they had been home. Bradley was unable to form his thoughts into words, his mind was still reeling from the decision he made. He didn’t know if it was the right one but he knew he wasn’t going back. 

“I’ll work on getting you enrolled in school later today,” Ice said, standing up to pour himself more coffee. “We’ll have to talk about what happened at some point, you know.”

Bradley nodded, but kept his mouth shut. He had never felt so drained and wired at the same time. His adrenaline was still pumping hot through his veins but he was starting to come down and his body was feeling it. He wrapped his hands tighter around his mug, letting the warmth seep into his hands and willing it to travel to the rest of his body. 

He knew that he would have to start applying to colleges as soon as possible, it was late in the year and he needed to get in. He thought about applying to San Diego State University so he could stay living with Ice, but there was too high of a chance that Mav would come back and find him. He decided on University of Virginia instead. Well, he would have to apply and actually get accepted, but with his grades and extracurriculars – prior to moving to Corpus Christi – he shouldn’t have a problem. 

***

The rest of Bradley’s school year passed quickly. He kept his head down and got back in with his old friends, and managed to keep their questions about why he was back away through cracking jokes or just leaving the conversation. Eventually, around graduation, everyone just kind of left him alone.  

Ice had gone to his graduation, against everything Bradley wanted. He didn’t even want to walk across the stage, but Ice made him, saying that he wanted the pictures to hang in the house. While Bradley walked, he thought he saw a shock of dark hair and a familiar looking face standing in the back, but it could have been anyone. 

The summer passed quickly and Bradley moved out to Virginia in the fall, Ice helping to move him into his dorm. He had gotten accepted into the school fairly quickly, and was even considering trying out for the baseball team. He wasn’t sure if he would have time for both the team and NROTC, but he would make it work. He had to. He always did. 

As the summer and then fall wore on, the thought of Jake wasn’t leaving his mind, as much as he tried. He had a few flings throughout the summer, and even managed to stay with a boy for over a month once he was in Virginia. He couldn’t make it work though, every time Bradley felt like he was getting close to getting over Jake, something would happen that would remind Bradley of him. The other boy broke it off right before the end of the fall semester. 

***

2017

2018

2019

2020 

In the spring of 2020, Bradley graduated college summa cum laude and with a commission in the United States Navy. Ice was in attendance at the ceremony, dressed to the nines in his whites and forcing Bradley to take all sorts of pictures. He knew those pictures would get sent to Mav, but he was trying to keep the thought out of his mind. 

Bradley would have to go to field training in the summer, but he was on the track to get a fighter pilot slot once he was done. He had gotten his degree in Aerospace Engineering with his minor in Spanish, and he was able to get his private pilot’s license while he was in school. He told Ice to stay away from pulling strings to get him a pilot slot, but Bradley didn’t fully believe him when Ice told him he didn’t. 

Bradley had finally made it to where he wanted to be, hardly set back any time at all, and he would be in the cockpit of an F/A-18 before he knew it. There was nothing holding him back, no Mav, no relationships, nothing. He was content, even though there was a lingering feeling that a part of him was missing.

[igotanidea]

Side Effects: Morpheus x reader

Request based on prompts list:

Hob: I brought you your coffee (128)

Morpheus: why does she need one, it's the middle of the day?

Reader: Oh I haven't slept in 4 days (132)

Morpheus: Run (130)

Midterms are a pain the ass, forgive my language. When the times comes, twice a year, for 2 weeks I become a hermit working 24/7, limiting contact with friends and family and acting like a living zombie. Thankfully, there are just a couple of people who are not afraid to see me in this form, with messy hair, sleepy eyes, barely controlling myself and snapping at every negative or sarcastic comments. If I were to be absolutely honest, I would say that I’m not the person you can easily get to, but Hob and Morpheus were an exception to a rule. And Matthew, of course. Hob were constantly checking on my mental an psychical help, his smile and attitude making surviving a bit easier even if I never explicitly showed that, he just knew. As for Morpheus his lack of knowledge about humans and life in general made it complicated. He couldn’t understand why I spend my time poring over books instead of joining him in his Realm and it took joint effort of me, Hob AND Matthew to stuff his head with the importance of education in modern world.

“You know, Dream, in XXI century girls are allowed to study and gain knowledge on the same terms as men….”

“But…..”

“And that is exactly what I’m going to do”

“But…..”

“No buts.” I shook my head in disapproval “I’m not asking for your permission or anything like that.”

“I don’t mind your studies.” He muttered

“Don’t you?” Hob smirk “Last time you mentioned something about missing her and …..”

“Stop it!” Dream’s voice turned stone cold, his glistening with anger and embarrassment gaze focused on the man.

“Just saying the truth” Hob raised his hands in surrender “It’s not my fault you don’t like it.”

“Guys, quit it, please. As much as I enjoy the show you put on I don’t need it now, ok? Can I get any support in my approach to schooling? Matthew?”

“Yes?”

“Were you even listening to what I was saying?”

“Barely, sorry” he looked down.

“I hate you, you know.” I stood up with anger on my face “for a beings of many, many years old you should at least try to understand it. Hob, you disappointed me. Given your experience with changing times I expected more of you. And as for you Dream ….. “ I shook my head “It’s just sad, you know. I’m gonna go.” Grabbing my backpack I didn’t even listen to their voices calling after me as I left and walked straight home. Back to my books.

 “Look what you both have done.” Matthew cawed

“What did WE do?” Hob’s eyes widened “you weren’t even listening to her”

“Maybe, if I were I would absolutely support her.”

“I never said I don’t stand on her side. This one did” Gadling pointed towards Dream being absolutely sure that the Dream Lord would never hurt him, even after such offensive assumption.

“Quiet!” King of Dreams got impatient and his companions immediately went silent “why is this so important to her? This … education?”

“Really, boss? Are you serious?”

“ I’m not known for joking around, am I? Now, speak”

“She is smart, ok? Like really smart. And today’s world is not exactly welcoming towards the smart women. They are constantly undermined, limited in their attempts for more, believed to be weaker than men and way to often judged only by their looks. Nothing strange in her wanting more. Education is important and helps you in life.”

“From every being in the universe you should know the effect of ignorance of existence, first-hand Dream” Hob mocked him once again and this time Dream Lord did not let it pass.

“That is enough, Hob Gadling. One more word and I will send a nightmare after you”

“No you won’t “ Matthew and Hob said in unison, knowing better.

***

Did I mention I only let a few people (and a talking Raven in)? Yes, I was angry with them all. Yes, I felt like they treated me unfair. But on the other hand I was also aware that because of being tired my reactions were a bit … exaggerated. So, the next day I decided to take a quick trip to the New Inn and grab myself something to drink, tea perhaps since too much caffeine was bad for my nervous system. It seemed, however that someone knew me better and therefore my walk was postponed.

“I brought you your  coffee” Hob was nonchalantly leaning on the doorframe, widest smile on his face reaching towards his eyes, handling me the biggest cup I’ve ever seen.”

“Appreciate it” I took it looking down and biting my lip “look, Hob I’m sorry for….”

“Hey, it’s ok. I get you are under stress, so no worries. Besides, I like this edgy and feisty side of yours.”

“Do you?” I raised an eyebrow “Well, that makes me happy. I enjoy our bantering and sarcastic relationship. You wanna come inside?”

“I thought you were studying?”

“ I was heading for a break, so might as well ask you.”

“Well, who am I to refuse a girl?” he grinned happily and moved to walk past me. Unfortunately, he did it a bit clumsily, hitting me and causing a bit of burning hot coffee to spill on me.

“Ouch, Hob!” I yelled and rushed towards the bathroom to clean the T-shirt and avoid stains and burning sides on the skin.

“I’m sorry!” he followed me quickly but bounced off the door I shut in front of his face “I did not mean to.”

“I know, but it hurts now!”

“Please let me in so I can help you!” he banged on the entry.

“In your dreams!” I spit desperately trying to clean the stain

“What happened here?” third voice came on the stage.

“Darn! What are you doing here, Morpheus?!” I opened the bathroom forgetting I was only in my bra “what?!” I yelled noting their gaze on me “Oh…. Right, just a second” covering my chest and stomach I moved towards the bedroom, grabbing first clean shirt and putting it on before coming back on sight. “What are you doing here?”

“You called my name.”

“I called…. Oh, shit! Me mentioning dreams had nothing to do with you.”

“I see.”

“Are you going to go back to Dreaming?”

“No.”

“Why?” I whined “I need to study.”

“Just a minute ago you said you were in need of a break” Hob pointed out

“Well thanks a lot Hob!”

“What? I’m just saying the truth

“Yeah, you have an annoying habit of doing that!”

“What. Happened here? Why are you hurt?” Dream interrupted us before we rushed into each other throats.

“I only brought her coffee.”

“Why does she need one? It’s the middle of the day.”

“You know Dream, for a lord of the sleeping realm you are uncharacteristically oblivious, to put it lightly” I tapped my forehead “I haven’t slept in four days. And you two are making me angry so let me tell you this is a dangerous zone you are entering.” I took a step forward, clenching fists.

“You what?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“Dream? You got paler than before. I never knew that was even possible” Hob examined the other man’s face, surprise and a bit of fear in his tone.

“Hob?”

“Yes?”

“Run.”

@somest1 @pinksirensong

[ageofbarbarians]

Study Nights // S.F.K & D.R.W

AgeOfBarbarians

A/N: this one is dedicated to @sparrowofthedawnsworld I have officially begun the fanfic wars(; I love you the mostest!! This is absolutely FILTHY. Like honest to god this is the filthiest thing I've ever written in my entire life. If there is weird typos i apologize cause i didn’t proof read this... anyway

enjoy(:

Summary: You get ahold of Danny and Sam to help you study for one of your college courses. Danny is absolutely relentless and won't let you finish until you get every question right. Things change when you get fed up and leave his apartment just to come home to yours and relax.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Smut, smut & more smut, Use of Toys, Masturbation, Oral (m&f receiving) Edging, Choking, Over Stimulation, Unprotected Sex, Hair Pulling, Degradation, Squirting, Slapping, Spitting

Word Count: 7.5k

M A S T E R L I S T

“Y/N, you need to study this is the whole reason you came over.” Danny shook his head. You looked up from your phone and shook yours.

“No, I think I’m okay.” You smiled as you showed Sam another TikTok.

“One more TikTok! We’re on a roll right now,” Sam pleaded. You both looked up at him trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes but you knew it wasn’t working. Danny sighed as he came over and grabbed your phone from your hand.

“Hey!” You tried reaching for it to get it back but you knew it was a lost cause.

You had texted Danny earlier in the day for him to help you study for one of the history classes you were taking. You had a final this week and some of the material you just couldn’t get down. Danny didn’t know shit about anything you were taking but he was still there to help you anyway.

“Study. Now. Let’s go.” Danny demanded. You sighed as you grabbed your various notebooks and papers. You set everything out along the table and crossed your arms as you waited for him to sit down.

Once he did, he shifted through some of the notebooks to find something to start with. He began reading questions and you answered them lazily since this little second was stuff you already knew. He praised you every time you get a question right with a simple ‘good job’ or ‘atta girl��. That part was slightly encouraging but you wanted nothing more than for this to be done and over with.

When you had texted Danny you never wanted to study. I mean, you did, and you didn’t. Most of it was just a sorry excuse to get out of the house and the other reason was just wanting to hang out with Danny and Sam. You didn’t need an excuse to do that, but they knew you had been putting off studying for your finals so it was one of the only things that would’ve worked.

Suddenly, hours had gone by and you were sick and tired of this. Everything you were going over seemed to just be on repeat and you just wanted to be able to hang out with the guys. You sighed as Danny asked you yet another question. The ones he had been asking you didn’t know the answers to since it was newer material. There was a slim chance it was going to be on the final but it was better to know it than not.

“Y/N, we’ve gone over this like seven times now.” Danny sighed as he threw your notebook on the table.

“I’m sorry! I’m trying, okay? All of this shit is the same to me.” You ran your hands over your face as you sighed with frustration.

“Can we just take a break?” Sam suggested but Danny shook his head.

You, Sam, and Danny, we’re studying for one of the classes that you had together. Well, more so you and Danny. Sam was there because he was bored and wanted some company. It was odd to you that they were even taking this class because it wasn’t even really a part of their prerequisites.

College wasn’t fun but you needed to do something with your life. They were both majoring in Music but you had one class together and you just seemed to hit it off really well and started spending the majority of your time together.

School had never been your strong suit and you never really wanted to go. You wanted to start working straight out of high school but you knew it wouldn’t get you super far. You had decided to go to college to major in History. It was one of your best subjects when you were in high school as well as one of the most fascinating so you figured you keep going with it.

“No. We aren’t stopping until Y/N gets this right.” Danny shook his head and grabbed his notebook again. You groaned as you laid back on the couch, your head falling into Sam’s lap. His hands gently made their way through your hair and the subtle action alone was enough to make you lose focus.

“Who was the ‘Father of History’ who dealt with the heroic theme of the great clash between the Greeks and Persians?” Danny asked as he read from the paper. You were silent, desperately trying to rack your brain for an answer but you couldn’t think of anything.

“Herodotus?” You asked softly, afraid of your answer being wrong.

“Yes! Okay, okay, good! The first of the great mathematicians whose book on the fundamentals of geometry became a standard text for the next 2,000 years was…” Danny waved his hand signaling for you the finish the question. Again, you were quiet for a minute before locking in your answer.

“Demosthenes?”

“No! Come on we’ve gone over this question so many times!” Danny groaned, throwing the notebook back down once again. You sat before you started putting your notebooks together and gathering all of your papers.

“Obviously I’m not going to get it, Danny! You won’t let me take a break and I don’t even see what the fuck geometry has to do with history! It doesn’t make any goddamn sense!” You threw the last of your stuff into your bag before throwing it over your shoulder. You grabbed your phone from the kitchen counter where Danny had sat it earlier and you started walking towards the door. 

"It's not that hard!" Danny shot back. You stopped and turned to face him.

"Maybe if you weren't being such a fucking prick I'd actually be able to get them right." You spat before you opened the door to walk it

“Y/M, c’mon don’t leave,” Sam said softly. He got up from the couch but before he could get to you, you were gone. You could hear Danny calling after you but you ignored it and went down to your car.

When you got in you tossed your bag into the back seat and threw the keys into the ignition and put it in reverse. Right before you pulled out of your parking spot Danny was at the main door of his apartment complex. You looked at him for a second before backing out and leaving.

Your drive home was quiet. You were too frustrated to put any music on and wanted to just enjoy your time in peace. You were tired of studying for hours on end, especially when you just couldn’t get the answers to some of these questions to stick in your head. You started to calm down during your quiet drive when, unfortunately, the peace didn’t last long when your phone started ringing.

“Fuck!” You screamed in the small enclosed space. You quickly declined the call and moments later you pulled into your apartment complex. You left your bag in the back seat, not even bothering to grab anything from it. You turned off your car and pulled the keys out of the ignition before getting out of the car and making your way upstairs to your door.

Your phone rang again and you pulled it out of your pocket to see it was Sam calling you. You declined his call and went inside. You went straight to the bathroom and started to run water for a bath. You dragged your fingertips through the running water as you waited to find your perfect temperature. Once you had everything set, you let it fill up. You looked into the mirror as you leaned against the counter. You could see the bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep from staying up studying. That was the main downfall of finals week.

You stripped yourself from your clothes and wrapped a towel around your body. You went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of random candles you had sitting out there and a lighter from one of your drawers. You took the candles and sat them around various points in the bathroom before lighting them and turning the lights off. You dropped your towel and stepped into the bath water. You sunk as far as you could, letting the warm sensation wash over your body.

You lied in there for about a half hour as you listened to the flicker of the candles and the occasional pop. You pulled the plug on the drain and stepped out onto the bath mat and picked up your towel, wrapping it around your frame as much as you could. This particular towel was the last one you had since you desperately needed to do laundry. It just barely covered your ass and you couldn’t even get it to close completely over your body. But it didn’t matter as you were just going to change and go to bed anyway.

You blew each of the candles out and walked into the bedroom. You dropped the towel onto the ground and decided to slip out on the clothes for tonight. You crawled onto your bed and sighed as you laid down. You had mainly taken the bath in the first place to train and calm yourself down but it didn’t work. There was only one other thing you knew would work and that was your best friend in your nightstand drawer.

You bit your lip as you debated if you wanted to go that route. You reached into the drawer and grabbed the black vibrator and clicked one of the buttons causing the vibrations to start. You ran it over your chest, over your swollen nipples, down your stomach and you hovered right over your clit, before making your way back up and repeating the process a couple of times. Goosebumps rose over your skin and you let out a soft sigh. You could feel yourself beginning to relax and you knew all it was, was sexual frustration.

It honestly had been a while since you had gotten laid, but you didn’t want causal one-night stands anymore. Most of the time they were boring and they couldn’t give you what you wanted. They only focused on themselves and you had never even came. It wasn’t worth it.

After you repeated the process of dragging the low vibrations over your body you rested the toy along your clit and you let out a quiet moan from the contact. You shifted your hips and bit your lips as you felt waves of heat course through your body. Your free hand toyed with your swollen nipples and you let out another soft moan. You turned the vibrations up a few notches and this time you let out a louder moan. Still quiet, but loud for you being home alone.

You could feel the knot in your stomach growing and you knew it would only take a minute or two before you reached your peak. You moved the vibrator through your folds and your legs began to shake. You were on the brink of tipping over when your bedroom door flew open.

“Y/N you’re being— oh shit,” Danny stopped himself in the doorway as he stared at you with wide eyes. You quickly turned your head to the side and it finally hit you what was going on. Sam and Danny stood in the doorway, stunned before you yelled at both of them.

“What the fuck!?” Danny shut the door behind him. You quickly tuned the toy off and threw it off to the side. You jumped off the bed and wrapped the towel you had used earlier around yourself before rushing out of your room. You caught Sam and Danny right as they were getting ready to leave but you pulled both of them back inside.

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment!? You can’t just show up unannounced like it’s no big deal!” You yelled. Neither of them could make eye contact with you so you snapped in front of their faces to get their attention.

“Hello!? I'm talking to you, both of you!” You rested your hand on your hip and waited for a response from one of them.

“Well we wanted to make sure you were okay,” Sammy started.

“But clearly things were just fine,” Danny smirked and you felt your face get hot.

“That still doesn’t explain anything.” You shook your head trying not to focus on them walking in on you.

“You weren’t answering your phone and you always text us when you get home. You were being a brat and you just stormed out.” Danny ran his hands through his hair and shifted between both of his feet.

“I was busy! And I was not being a brat, you two just wouldn’t give me a fucking break. I can never finish anything around you two!” Your face was becoming hot with anger as you spewed the truth at them.

“But did you finish just then?” Sam asked with a devilish smirk. His question completely threw you off guard as you shook your head.

“W-what?” You stuttered and Danny turned to face Sam.

“You heard him. Did you finish before we came in?” He asked. They both stared at you and their gazes made you feel so small. You didn’t want to verbally answer their question so you just shook your head so softly it was barely even noticeable. Your face was hot again, this time from embarrassment. Danny and Sam looked at each other before Sam whispered into Danny’s ear. They had their own quick, quiet conversation before turning back to you.

“Why don’t we actually finish something since you stormed out earlier, hm?” Danny suggested. You looked at both of them in disbelief but the idea was oddly arousing. You could feel the wetness beginning to pool between your legs as you clenched your thighs together.

“Let us make it up to you,” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and they both observed every inch of your body. You bit your lip before turning around and walking down the hallway. You dropped the towel to expose your body and you stopped to turn and look at the two boys.

“If you’re gonna make it up to me, don’t disappoint me.” You continued to walk towards your bedroom but you were halted as you were spun around and pushed against the wall. Sam’s hand wrapped itself around your throat and your jaw went slack, a quiet moan coming out.

“Oh doll, you have no idea what you’re in for.” Danny cooed as he ran the back of his hand down the side of your face. His lips connected with your collarbone and you let out a soft sigh. Sam stared at your lips before meeting your eyes. You nodded your head as if you knew what he was asking without even saying.

Sam’s lips connected with yours as his grip slightly tightened around your throat. He nipped at your bottom lip and you felt his tongue slip past once he has the opportunity. Your tongue with his and you could help but tangle your hands in his hair. It didn’t last for long as your hands were pulled away and planted about your head.

“No touching unless we say, got it?” Danny commanded. You nodded your head but it wasn’t enough. Sam pulled away from you as he let his hand fall to the side, releasing the grip he had around your throat. Danny stepped in front of you and you avoided his intimidating gaze.

“That’s not enough, darling. We need words.” Sam tapped your cheek and you looked between the both of them.

“Yes, sir.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were led towards your bedroom and the door was closed behind you as soon as you walked in.

“We’re going to use a system, okay? Green is everything is good, yellow means we need to take a step back, black means we stop entirely, got it?” Sam looked at the both of you and you nodded. This was one of the only times your silence was acceptable.

“Where’s that little toy of yours, hm?” Sam asked as he walked you back towards the bed. When your thighs hit it, you were signaled to get onto it. Danny was sitting on the bed and he patted his lap for you to come to sit with him.

“It’s almost dead.” You pointed towards your pillows where it had landed when you tossed it earlier.

“I guess we’ll just have to use it until it dies, hm?” Danny suggested. Your eyes went wide and from that moment you knew you were in for a ride.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” You looked between the both of them as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying your hardest not to think about what was to come. Sam slipped his shirt over his head and Danny did the same. You focus your eyes on both of them but directed your attention towards Sam as he popped the button of his jeans and you could already see how hard he was through the thick material.

“Come sit, baby. We’ll take care of it.” Danny patted his lap again and you crawled towards him. You sat between his legs as your back rested against his chest. His hand connected with your throat and you let out a deep sigh, more of your arousal pooling at your entrance at the contact. Danny tilted your head back and connected your lips with his, his grip on your throat still firm. Danny passed the vibrator off to Sam as he crawled onto the bed. You hadn’t even realized the subtle switch between the two of them.

It was crazy how much different it was kissing the two of them. Danny’s kisses were much more lust-filled and passionate while Sam’s were hungry and dominant. Danny seemed to be reading your mind as you pulled away from him and he gripped your jaw before turning your attention to Sam.

“Just because I’m gentle with you now doesn’t mean I will be later,” He whispered in your ear. You let out a soft moan from his words and closed your eyes. You could feel a set of hands trail up and down your thighs, only building the anticipation.

“Please do something,” you begged. It only took seconds before you heard the vibrator whirl and it was dragged along your entrance. You could feel yourself throbbing and you just needed more contact. You opened your eyes and looked at Sam below you running the toy through your soaked folds. He paused on your clit and you jerked your hips, causing Danny to hold you in place.

You gripped the duvet since you didn’t really know what else to do with your hands. Sam stared up at you with lust-filled eyes as he watched you get closer to your impending orgasm. Danny’s lips connected with your neck and you couldn’t help but close your eyes again and tilt your head to the side allowing him more access. Danny brought his thumb over your lip but you licked at him before wrapping him around your tongue. You could hear the sigh he let out and you hummed.

You could feel your legs begin to shake as you let out a whimper. You tried to move but Danny was still holding you in place. You looked down at Sam who had a smirk plastered on his face as he slowly moved the head of the vibrator against your clit. The band in your stomach was bound to snap but before it had the chance, the vibrator was pulled away from you.

“No, Sam, please, I-I was so close,” you whined but he just shook his head.

“You’re not getting off that easy, angel.” Danny tisked. You whined and Danny moved from under you. You lied back against the bed as you watch their every move. Danny unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his legs. The outline of his hard cock made you whine. Danny smirked before he hooked his thumbs on his boxers and pulled them down, letting his cock spring free. You about drooled at the sight of him.

“Does the pretty girl want a taste?” Danny pumped himself slowly a few times as you watched his every move. You nodded your head and he stepped in front of you. 

"Open," Danny commanded. You opened your mouth and he bent down to spit in your mouth before he closed it, waiting for you to swallow.

"Such a filthy girl. Like it when I spit in your mouth, hm?" You nodded as a blush rose across your cheeks. Danny tapped your cheek with two of his fingers and you opened your mouth again. He pressed his tip against you as you wrapped your lips around him. Your tongue swirled around his tip and he sighed. His fingers wrapped in your hair and you went further down his shaft. You bobbed your head up and down slowly as Danny praised you.

“So fucking good, taking my cock so well,” He ran one of his thumbs over the side of your mouth where you began to drool and he smeared it along your cheek. Sam hooked his arms around your legs before licking a bold stripe up your core. You moaned against Danny which caused him to hiss. You tried your hardest to look at Sam but Danny tapped two of his fingers against your cheek.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Danny spook lowly. You turned your attention back towards him and you looked up at him through your lashes. You sunk further down his shaft until you were still when he hit the back of your throat. Danny moved his hips slightly as he held your head in place.

Sam latched his mouth around your clit as he teased your entrance with two of his fingers. You whimpered which cause Danny to buck his hips a little harder, making you gag. Your eyes welled with tears and you took deep, heavy breaths through your nose.

Sam slowly entered two of his fingers and he curled them inside of you, hitting a spot nobody else ever had. You bucked your hips but Sam’s free arm came and pinned you in place. Your eyes screwed shut and you had to place one of your hands against Danny’s abdomen. You could feel the way his breaths were uneven and how warm he was. You could feel the knot in your stomach returning and it was only a matter of time before you unraveled around Sam’s fingers.

“Being so good just for us. You like being our little whore?” Sam asked. You moaned again and Danny pulled himself out of your mouth. You took in a deep breath and gasped.

“Fuck, yes. Fucking use me,” Your words were breathy as your back arched.

“You’re close aren’t you, baby? I can feel you clenching around my fingers,” Sam sighed and you nodded your head. His thumb connected with your clot for a few moments before he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Sammy no, please,” you whined. He smiled as he moved from the bed.

“Patience baby girl, we have all night,” Danny cooed. Danny went to the end of the bed next to Sam and slipped two of his fingers into his mouth as he looked you dead in the eyes. You watched his every move and you whined at the sight.

Danny slowly slipped his long, calloused fingers into your entrance and your mouth opened but no sound came out. Sam grabbed the vibrator again. Danny started with a brutally slow pace before he sped up his movements. Sam turned the vibrator up a few more notches and he slowly pressed it against your aching bundle of nerves. You let out a loud moan from being so sensitive. You so desperately wanted to look at the boys below you but you just couldn’t. Your eyes were screwed shut and your back was arched. You could feel your legs begin to shake.

“Do you wanna cum all over Danny’s fingers, hm? Do you think you deserve it?” Sam question. You nodded your head furiously.

“Please, please let me cum,” Your words were breathy and you were seconds away from spilling over the edge.

“Hmm, I don’t thank that’s good enough, what do you think Danny? Should we let our pretty girl cum?” Sam turned to him and Danny shook his head.

Our pretty girl.

“No, I don’t think she begged enough.” Danny shook his head and Sam removed the vibrator from your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, please. You guys please let me cum, I need to so bad.” You whined as tears brimmed your eyes. The edging was the worst part but you knew it would be worth it in the end. Right now though? It was torturous.

“You can do better than that,” Sam shook his head as he place the vibrator on your clit for a split second before removing it. Danny never stopped his pace, he just curved his fingers up further and that alone could’ve made you come undone.

“Let me cum, please, I want to make a mess all over Danny’s fingers. I’ll be so good, so so good. Please, please please,” You whined hoping it would be enough.

Thankfully, it was as Sam put the vibrator against your clit again. You let out a pornographic moan and quickly covered your mouth with your arm. You bit down at the skin, almost hard enough to make yourself bleed.

“Let us hear those pretty noises, Y/N, don’t hold back now,” Danny encourages. Sam moved your arm and you looked at the two boys below you for a split second before tilting your head back.

“Fuck, I’m so close, I’m gonna-” you were gasping for air as your impending orgasm began to wash over you. Your eyes screwed shut and your jaw went completely slack. Danny’s fingers sped up as he helped ride out your high.

“Fuck,” Sam hissed as he watched you come undone. Finally, a moan slid past your lips as you felt your legs shake. Sam and Danny both held your hips in place. Danny slowed his movements before he slid his fingers out of you. He brought them to his lips and sucked all of your juices off with a moan.

Sam on the other hand never once moved the vibrator from your clit. You tried your hardest to move from him but they both held you in place. You could feel your second orgasm quickly approaching and you began to whine.

“Shit, Sammy,” you looked down at him as he watched the way your body rise and fell from your heavy breathing. You could feel the fire in the pit of your stomach building rapidly and you were seconds away from letting go.

“Let go for me baby, give us another,” Sam groaned. All you needed was his word before you let your second orgasm rip through you. You could feel yourself convulsing under the vibrations, but Sam never moved the vibrator. You looked at him and shook your head.

“Sam, please, I-I can’t,” you whimpered from the overstimulation and tried your hardest to move one more. Danny put more pressure on your hips with his free and Sam switched the vibrator with him. Sam repeated what Danny did earlier before. Sam inserted his pointer and ringer finger, the gap in between stretching you out. You tried your hardest to push Danny’s hand away but he grabbed it.

“One more for us, baby, please,” Danny pushed you against you harder and you could feel the vibrations slowly getting weaker. You thanked the gods that it was beginning to die but a part of you didn’t want it to end, no matter how sensitive you were.

“Fuck me,” you gasped as Sam slammed his fingers into you. Your third orgasm was teetering on the edge. You let out another moan and you turned your head towards the mattress to muffle yourself.

“Yeah? Is that what our little whore wants? Need us to fuck that pretty cunt?” Sam teased. You nodded your head vigorously. His filthy words were on the brink of spilling you over.

“Don’t cum yet, not yet,” Sam warned. You grabbed your breasts as something to keep your mind off cumming. Your breathing was heavy, beads of sweat lined themselves along your forehead and your legs shook violently.

“Sammy, Danny, please,” your whine was a borderline squeal as you tried so hard not to cum until they said so.

“Y/N, wait, not yet,” Danny shook his head but you couldn’t hold it any longer. A loud moan ripped through your chest as you came around Sam’s fingers. This one was more powerful than the last two and your hips felt tight. The vibrator died seconds later but Danny replaced the tog with his mouth and you bucked your hips from the sensitivity. Sam watched your already fucked out face as his jaw was slack. Danny bummed at the taste of you and your toes curled. Your legs continued to shake but the two boys continued their attack. They finally slowed their movements and Danny pulled away from your core, your juices glistening over his chin. Sam pulled his fingers from you and you whined at the loss of contact.

“You needy girl. You were just begging for us to stop and now your whining?" Sam raised a brow at you but you couldn't say anything. You lied there trying to catch your breath and compose yourself since you knew the night wasn't over. 

"On your knees, doll," Sam pointed directly in front of him and you obliged. You sunk to your knees below him and sat your hands on your tights. 

"Danny, hold her hair back, yeah?" Sam asked and Danny nodded his head. Danny sat directly behind you and pulled your hair away from your face. Sam unzipped his zipper antagonizingly slow and slid his jeans down his slender legs. You reached for his boxers as soon as he kicked his jeans to the side. You palmed him through his dark blue boxers. There was a darker spot that was almost black from where the precum leaked from his tip and the sigh made you drip all over again.

"Look at her, practically drooling," Danny shook his head before his lips connected with your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment as you continued to palm Sam through his boxers.

"Open for me, pretty girl," Sam dragged his hand along the side of your face and you looked up at him through your lashes. You so desperately wanted to take him in your mouth but you also wanted to see what he would do if you disobeyed.

"Do I need to repeat myself or are you going to start acting like a brat?" Sam raised a brow and you shrugged. Danny pulled your hair and your mouth opened slightly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, princess." He whispered in your ear before dragging his hand down your body. You continued to stare at Sam and he shook his head.

"Fine, we'll play that game," Sam laughed before his hand connected with your cheek ever so slightly. It was hard enough to leave a sting but not enough to cause you any physical pain. You watched his demeanor change for a moment as he searched your eyes for any sort of discomfort. When you looked at him with a wicked grin he about came undone right then and there.

"So fucking filthy. One more time, I said open," Sam grabbed your jaw and you did as you were told. You grabbed the base of him with one hand while you rested the other against his thigh. You swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the beads of precum that leaked from him. You continued to look at him through your lashes as you sunk lower onto him. His mouth was open slightly and he ran his fingers through his hair.

Danny moved from next to you and lied on the floor behind you. He grabbed your hips and sat you on top of his face, his nose brushing against your sensitive clit making you jump slightly. He held your hips in place while his tongue attacked your entrance. You groaned as you tried your hardest to focus on Sam. You bobbed your head up and down against his shaft and he let out soft sighs. You took him all the way down the back of your throat and held him there until you gagged and you came up for air. You gasped as you tried to catch your breath, but soon continued your assault on him. Sam grabbed your hair and turned it into a makeshift ponytail. He held you in place while he bucked his hips into your mouth. You gagged around him as tears slid down your face. 

"You look so gorgeous while I fuck your face," Sam groaned and you moaned against him. You ground your hips against Danny's face and his nose repeatedly brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Danny groaned which sent vibrations through your core. Lewd sounds of you gagging, Sam's moans and Danny's attack on your dripped core filled the room. The whole thing was pornographic but fuck, it was one of the best things you had ever done.

Sam pulled out of your mouth and you took in a deep breath. He took his cock in his hand as he watched your ride Danny's face. You watched him below you and your eyes met with his. His tongue was working absolute magic against you and you could feel the knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Sam walked away as he adjusted himself on the bed.

"Want to, fuck, want to ride you," You whined as you looked back at Sam. He pumped himself for a minute as you watched him before nodding his head. Danny tapped your leg to let you know it was okay to get up so. You stood up with shakey legs and crawled up to Sam. You wrapped your lips around him once more before lining your entrance up with his. Sam held the base of his shaft before slowly setting you down on him. Your mouth fell open as you felt the burn of him stretching you out.

"Fuck," You whined and he rubbed your thighs for a minute as you adjusted to his size.

"Okay?" He asked softly and you nodded your head.

"Fuck me, Kiszka," You slowly ground your hips against him before he sent a sharp thrust up into you. A loud moan flew past your lips that you were sure your neighbors would've heard. Sam held onto your hips as he brought you down to meet his thrusts. Your breasts bounced with each thrust he sent up into you. Another loud moan slipped past your lips and Danny came up behind you to place his hand over your mouth to silence you. Sam's free hand came up and wrapped itself around your throat and he squeezed the sides, restricting your airflow. You looked down and he smiled at your fucked-out state.

"Shh, pretty girl, can't let the neighbors hear." Danny nipped on your ear lobe as his hand traveled down your body. You brought your hand behind you and lazily searched for his cock. Once you found him you pumped him in your hand. Danny grabbed your jaw and connected his lips with yours to silence your moans. You whined and whimpered as Sam continued to fuck up into you. Danny's hand snaked down to rub your clit and you bucked your hips from still being so sensitive.

"Shit, Y/N," Sam moaned. You could feel yourself tightening around him and you knew your orgasm was fast approaching.

"If you don't stop squeezing around me I'm going to cum in that pretty little cunt of yours." Sam groaned and you moaned at his words. You pulled away from Danny and placed your free hand against Sam's chest and bounced on his cock. His eyes were heavy as he watched you bounce on him so effortlessly. He let go of your throat and you took a breath.

"What's stopping you?" You asked breathlessly. You purposely squeezed yourself around him and Sam hissed.

"Filthy fucking slut. Is that what you want? Want me to fill up that gorgeous pussy?" Sam bucked his hips up into you again and he hit an entirely different angle causing you to let out a groan that sounded almost animalistic.

"Fill me up, Sammy, please," You whined and he laughed at how filthy you were. He lifted your hips and he pulled out of you and you whined at the absent feeling of him.

"Did you think you were getting what you wanted that easily, baby? After being a brat earlier? I don't think so," Sam moved to the edge of the bed and pumped himself again. You watched as Sam focused on Danny for a second before he nodded his head.

"Hands and knees, angel," Danny placed his hand on your lower back and you followed his request. You could feel his tip sliding through your folds and you pushed back against him to feel some more contact, but he moved away from you.

"Awe, don't start with me too now." Danny hummed with disapproval and you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him. You arched your back and swayed your hips to taunt him. Before you could say anything, Sam grabbed your chin and turned you to face him. His tip was a raging pink and you knew he was getting close to his high.

"Open," Sam commanded. You opened your mouth and you stuck your tongue out in the process. He tapped his cock against your tongue and you couldn't help but smile up at him. He slid into your mouth and you wrapped your swollen lips around him. He moved his hips slightly and you moaned against him. You could feel Danny lining himself up at your entrance before he slid into. You gasped and gripped Sam's hip with one of your hands, trying to keep yourself somewhat stable with your other arm. Danny started with a slow, steady rhythm before snapping his hips into you. 

Your nails dug into Sam's side and he moaned as you clawed at his skin. He grabbed some hair at the nape of your neck and fucked himself into your mouth. You moaned loudly from Danny fucking into you at his brutal pace. He sent a sharp smack to your ass and you wince from the pain that was soon mixed with pleasure.

"Look at you, all fucked out, taking both of us so well. Is this why you had such an attitude? You just needed somebody to fuck it out of you?" Danny groaned and you swore your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"What do you think Danny, think she needs the vibrator again?" Sam asked breathlessly. 

"I think so. I wanna see her make a mess all over my cock." Danny smirked as he moaned at you squeezing around him.

"Thought it was dead, didn't you? We plugged it in when you weren’t paying attention." Sam laughed dryly and you whined and took in a deep breath through your nose. You suddenly felt the vibrations of your vibrator against your clit and your legs almost gave out from under you if it weren't for Danny supporting your waist with his free arm.

Danny snapped his hips into you even harder if that was even possible and kept a firm grip against you. His fingers dug into your side and you knew he was bound to leave bruises. You whined uncontrollably as you could feel your orgasm quickly approaching. You could tell Sam was close too from the way his thrusts became sloppy. The room was filled with heavy breathing, skin against skin, and the filthiest of moans and whimpers. 

"Fuck, Y/N I'm gonna cum," Sam whined. You wanted to tell him you were too but there was nowhere you were getting away from his hold. 

"Look at me," Sam smacked your cheek again and you looked up at him with hooded eyes. You were trying your hardest to keep your eyes on him but they kept dropping. You felt another smack on your cheek and you looked at Sam once again. You could feel the knot in your stomach beginning to unravel, but it was stronger than any feeling you had felt before.

"Cum for me you fucking whore," Danny grunted and that was all you nodded before you tipped over the edge. You groaned loudly at how overwhelming the feeling was and soon realized you were dripping all over Danny's cock as well as your legs. 

"Fuck, Y/N," Sam moaned loudly as he stilled inside of you, his tip reaching the back of your throat as you felt the warm, salty liquid flow down the back of your throat. You swallowed every last little bit of him and his grip on your hair loosened and you pulled back against him before swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip. Sam hissed as he pulled away from you. Your head fell against the mattress and your back arched up further. Your legs shook as you felt your clit throb against the vibrator.

Danny pulled out of you before replacing his fingers and curving them. Your eyes screwed shut and you grabbed the comforter. You could feel yourself being stretched out more than before and you groaned as you sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth. 

"Cum for us one more time, angle, just like last time. You're doing so fucking good," Sam praised. You nodded your head as much as you could from your fucked out state. You could feel yourself beginning to slip but you just didn't have the energy to hold yourself up anymore. Sam and Danny hit that spot inside of you repeatedly and with the vibrations, you came undone around both of them. You felt two tongues come in contact with your core and you moaned so loud it could've put a pornstar to shame. You felt more of the wetness drip down your legs and you could feel yourself ready to collapse at any second.

"Open for me baby, one more time," Danny requested. You opened your eyes and opened your mouth for him. He quickly fucked your face, hitting the back of your throat multiple times before stilling and cumming down the back of your throat. Sam continued to lap at your sensitive core as he rubbed fast circles against your clit. Danny pulled himself out of your mouth and you whimpered as tears slid down your face from the overstimulation.

"Sammy, I can't," You tried to move from his touch but he held you in place.

"One more, one more good one for us, sweet girl, and I promise that's it," He sighed. You moaned into the mattress, but even that couldn't suppress your pornographic sounds. Your orgasm hit you like a truck as you came one last time around Sam's finger. Even with your blacked-out vision, you started seeing stars. You became light-headed and you felt your body collapse against the bed.

"Holy fuck," Danny whispered as he let out a breath. You felt the loss of contact as Sam slowly slid his fingers out of you. You shuddered and you took in a deep breath trying your hardest to regain your composure. You heard your bedroom door open and footsteps leave the room. A moment passed and you heard the door close again. You felt a warm rag against your core and you shifted your hip as you whimpered. 

The bed dipped next to you and you felt the blankets being moved. A set of arms wrapped themselves around your waist and adjusted you on the bed. You could barely open your eyes.

"How are you feeling, pretty girl?" Sam asked softly. You hummed and adjusted your head against his chest. The other side of the bed dipped next to you and Danny started rubbing slow, mindless patterns against your back.

"I don't know what planet I'm on right now." You mumbled as your eyes closed. Sam and Danny both laughed. A hand started rubbing the back of your head and you let out a sigh of comfort.

"I think we should make our little study nights a thing more often." You could hear the smile in Danny's voice as you smiled against Sam's chest.

"We would fail every single one of our classes," Your voice was hoarse and you felt Sam's chest vibrate with a small laugh. It was silent for a while as the three of you laid there in silence. You could feel the ache in your core and you knew tomorrow your legs and hips would be beyond sore. 

Sam's breathing was shallow and you knew he was already fast asleep. You could feel your breathing get shallower as well, but before you fully fell asleep you heard Danny speak up from next to you.

"Y/N?" He said softly as he kissed the top of your head and you hummed. His arm wrapped around your waist and you could feel him press against your back.

"The answer was Euclid."

[deanstead]

Pieces (16): Altercation... or not

Chapter 16: Altercation… or not

Chapter Summary: Y/N takes Chloe to see her father and handles a patient she doesn’t want to have anything to do with. Meanwhile, Jay comes into Med to follow up on a case.

Word Count: 2,516

Warnings: canon-typical mentions of injuries

SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

You’d tried for another week to convince Chloe to spend some time with her father. It fell on deaf ears when you assured her that Vivian wasn’t going to be there. You tried telling her that you would go and she looked up at you almost like she was considering and then she shook her head.

“Not even if I’m there with you?”

Chloe shook her head without looking up. “Daddy makes you sad.”

You paused. You don’t know what you did right to ever deserve a daughter like Chloe. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was five. “Not anymore.”

Chloe looked up.

“I haven’t been sad recently, right?” You asked her, and she nodded so you continued. “Why don’t we try a lunch this weekend?”

Chloe looked like she was considering before she nodded. “Can Jay come?”

You smiled. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Of course, Jay came.

Jay slid into the seat next to Chloe, feeling considerably better now that his arm was finally out of the cast.

Caleb wasn’t happy about Jay’s presence but you’d told him he either accepted it or lunch was off. Those were Chloe’s terms.

That’s how Caleb found himself pausing at the entrance of the diner, watching from a distance as Jay gave Chloe his undivided attention, and Chloe smiled up at him before you leaned over to make Chloe take a sip from her drink. It was something about this image in front of him that hit him and he readjusted the expression on his face before he approached the table.

Chloe looked up, pausing before she looked back down at the paper she’d been drawing on.

Saying lunch was awkward was an understatement. Jay was kept occupied by Chloe, which was another way of saying that Chloe barely interacted with her father. The five-year-old aside, even Caleb seemed to have forgotten how to interact with his own daughter and you had absolutely nothing you wanted to say to Caleb except “what do you expect?” so you kept your mouth shut, reminding yourself of the promise you had made yourself when your marriage had fallen apart - to stay out of their father-daughter relationship.

At the end of lunch, Chloe was itching to get out of there, so Jay gave you a look but let Chloe drag him a little further down the street.

You glanced at Caleb. “You know this happened because your little girlfriend locked her outside right? You’re gonna have to win her trust back.”

Caleb glanced over towards Chloe and Jay, before he nodded. “Look, I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“For everything, Y/N. I… I saw the three of you today and I just… I get it. Jay seems like a good guy.” Caleb said.

That, you didn’t expect.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I was just worried about you.” Caleb said and you didn’t hide an eye-roll.

You held up a hand. “Caleb, I don’t need you to worry about me. You put me here, you don't get to worry about me. Don’t worry about me, don’t explain anything to me, it’s none of my business. The only reason I’m here today is because I’m not going to encourage my daughter to be estranged from her own father.”

You studied him. “Look, if you really want a relationship with her, you have to show her that you care. She’s five, she’s not stupid. We’ll try again this weekend, alright? I’ll call if Chloe’s up for it.”

You turned to head towards Jay and Chloe when she came out of nowhere, her hands pushing hard against your shoulders so you stumbled a few steps backwards. “So it was you.”

“What?” You asked, staring Vivian straight in the eye now.

“You seduced him so he’d break up with me.” The words coming out of Vivian’s mouth were scathing, and you stared at her, feeling the unbridled rage shoot through you once again and straight into your brain. Your body felt hot, the anger shooting to the forefront until you realized Chloe was running towards you now, with Jay close behind.

You swallowed down the anger, physically pursing your lips together to stop the choice words that were floating around in your brain to erupt in front of Chloe. Chloe scooted her way in between you and Vivian, before she pushed, her small hands barely reaching Vivian’s belly. “Leave my mum alone!” Chloe yelled, her voice echoing down the street as she glared up at Vivian.

“You okay?” Jay asked, a hand on your elbow now, his eyes flicking between you and Chloe.

You nodded, motioning towards Chloe, and Jay nodded before he reached over to pick Chloe into his arms and away from Vivian.

“Anyone can use that word but you.” You responded, your voice low. You turned back towards Caleb. “Your mess. We’re leaving.”

Jay took your hand with his free one, threading his fingers through yours before leading you and Chloe away, not even sparing a glance behind him.

“Treatment 5.” Maggie said, handing you your iPad.

You nodded, smiling and opening the curtain. “Hi, I’m Dr Y/L/N, how can I…”

Your voice trailed off as you recognized the patient.

Vivian’s face changed as well and you exhaled. “I want another doctor.”

You nodded, your expression unchanging as you opened the curtain again . “Mags, is there anyone else who can…” Your eyes followed as Connor and Ethan rushed across the ED, Will was working on an emergency patient, and the waiting room looked like it was about to explode.

“Sorry.” Maggie shrugged and you sighed, shaking your head at her to tell her it was fine.

You left the curtain open and April followed you in, closing the curtain behind her. It had been barely a week since you’d last come face to face with her in a less than friendly situation, so in an ideal situation, you’d hand her off to someone else if you could. Instead, you glanced at the iPad. “It says here you injured your wrist?”

Vivian kept silent, before she turned towards April. “Can I get another doctor?”

April glanced at you and you just nodded. “Sorry, we’re really backed up today.”

“Let me order the tests and the scans.” You said, already looking at her swollen wrist. “When the results are back, I’ll try to get another doctor in here.”

Vivian gave you a scathing look, which was lost on you because you’d already looked away from her. You gave the instructions to April, who nodded at you and you left the room.

“What are the chances of someone else freeing up?” You asked Maggie, leaning over the counter.

Maggie glanced over at the waiting room and then back at you. “What’s the problem?”

“April’s probably going to come out of there with some complaint or other against me. You just wait.” You said. True enough, April came out of the treatment room a minute later.

“She’s claiming that she wants another doctor because you’re going to let your personal feelings get in the way. She said you didn’t even examine her hand and claims she had an altercation with you outside the hospital because you stole her boyfriend.”

Maggie turned to you.

“An alter…” You rolled your eyes. “Can you get Ethan to do it? She’ll complain about Will too, once she finds out who he is.”

“I’m waiting.” Maggie said, and you smiled.

“Oh, that’s the woman that my husband, sorry, ex-husband dumped me and Chloe for.” You explained, sweeping your hands out. “She crashed Chloe’s lunch with him last week and shoved me, claiming I seduced her boyfriend.”

“Seduced…?” April asked in disbelief.

You shrugged. “So Chloe ran in and pushed her back. She had an altercation with a five year old.”

“She didn’t…”

You smiled. “Not a chance. Besides, Jay was there.”

Maggie nodded towards the stretcher that was being pushed in. “I’ll handle this. You go help Dr Rhodes.”

“Thanks Mags!” You called, snapping on the gloves and heading there just in time to catch the tail-end of what the paramedics were telling Connor.

You followed him into Baghdad, stabilizing the patient as much as possible, before the tech wheeled the x-ray machine in.

“Clear.”

You glanced at the image that now flashed on the screen. “I’m putting in a chest tube.” You told Connor, who nodded as he moved to intubate the patient.

“Alright, call the OR, we’re sending her up now.”

You took off your gloves, stepping out of the room. “Jay?”

“Hey, how is he?” Jay asked. You could see the stress lines on his forehead.

You glanced back at the patient who was heading towards the lifts and shook your head. “He’s got serious injuries, it’s touch and go, but they’re sending him up for surgery now. You taking this case?”

Jay nodded. “High speed car chase.”

“He’s a perp?” You asked, although you kept your voice low.

Jay nodded.

“Great. What a great day.” You muttered.

Jay reached out. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a fake smile. “You will never guess who was the patient I was seeing before this.”

Jay raised his eyebrows but before you could say more, Ethan came by. “Hey, Y/N. Maggie said you needed my help?”

You glanced down at your iPad. “Yeah, can you take the patient in 5? Vivian Hall.”

Jay’s head snapped towards you and you rolled your eyes at him. “It looks like just a broken wrist.” You told Ethan. “But if I go in there, she’s probably going to accuse me of trying to kill her. And if she hears the name Halstead, she might flip.”

“I got you.” Ethan assured you. “You wanna come in anyway?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

You looked at Jay and he nodded. “Go, I’ll see you later.”

You reached over to squeeze his hand. “Get a coffee. And some food. I’m not asking.”

Jay smiled and nodded before you headed off after Ethan.

You’d drawn up her discharge papers, handing them to April.

April shook her head. “Of all the hospitals?”

You gave her a small smile. “Come on, April, with my luck? I’m surprised she wasn’t in here sooner.”

You watched April disappear behind the curtain before the alarm rang from Treatment 5. “Dr Y/L/N!”

You were already halfway there by the time you heard April call you, pushing the curtain aside, your eyes sweeping across the monitor due to the change in her vitals. “She’s having a seizure. Push 5 of Ativan.”

“Meds are in.” April told you, looking up. “She was fine, she was about to get up.”

“She told Dr Choi she fell, didn’t she?” You asked.

April nodded.

“Get her up to CT. We need a brain scan.”

The CT scan had shown that Vivian had indeed taken an impact to her head and there were signs that she was bleeding into her brain so she’d been sent up for emergency surgery.

“Lucky for her you were available.” April commented.

You shrugged. “And that I’m a professional?” You asked, a smile playing on your lips.

April laughed. “Never doubted you for a second.”

“Hey, I heard about your patient.” Will said, jogging towards you. “Seriously?”

You smiled. “I mean, all I did was let Ethan do the talking and stop her seizure. Not sure if that qualifies her to be my patient since ‘I let my personal feelings get in the way’.” You made a face, drawing quotation marks in the air with your fingers.

Will laughed. “Yeah, I heard. Maggie asked me to check in on you.”

“I’m fine.” You told him. “More than fine, actually.”

Will nodded. “Good, now go kick my brother’s ass. I put him in the doctor’s lounge. Doesn’t look good.”

You frowned and turned towards the lounge.

It had been that kind of week, made worse by being that kind of day.

Jay leaned against the back of the chair he was sitting on. He hadn’t been in here much, not really. He usually just breezed in and out of Med, stopping to say hi to his brother. Things had been different for the past year or so since he’d met you again at Med but most of that year had been spent with Jay trying to give you space.

He looked up at the ceiling, the car chase playing in his mind again.

Maybe if they hadn’t given chase, if they’d just let it play out, they wouldn’t have found the dead girl in his trunk. Jay glanced down at his phone. He was still waiting for the call from the coroner’s office on the cause of death for the body they’d found in the perp’s car. It could just as well have been the impact of the crash, and if they hadn’t been following so closely…

The thought was driven out when the door opened and Jay exhaled when he saw you standing there.

“Hey.” Jay whispered, smiling but you could tell the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

You smiled but didn’t say anything, heading towards him and reaching for his hand and putting your arms around him silently.

Jay lay his head against your middle as you stood against him, running your fingers through his hair.

Jay had rarely shown you this side of him when the both of you were alone, let alone anywhere near Chloe. You’d reminded him that he wasn’t the only person in this relationship, that it was only fair that he let you in after he'd practically barged his way into yours.

So now you just stayed with him, not bothered by the fact that you were in the doctor’s lounge and that anyone could walk in at any moment. You didn’t move until he did, and it was only because his phone rang.

You watched his features shift as he spoke, from dread, to understanding, to a little flash of annoyance and anger.

“Everything okay?” You asked.

Jay nodded. “They think the victim was already dead before the crash.” He said quietly.

You just gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Jay. I know these cases are the hardest.”

Jay just nodded. “I gotta check on him. Are you off shift?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to grab my things and go home so Kate can go.” You said.

“Alright, don’t wait up.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek quickly. Jay all but spent eighty percent of his time at your apartment.

Before he could leave, you grabbed his wrist and Jay turned back to look at you. “I need to recharge too.” You said quietly, leaning in to press yourself against him, your arms looping around his waist.

You knew he was smiling as he pressed you even deeper into his embrace. “Okay, you can go now.” You announced, stepping back.

Jay let out a small chuckle, leaning in to press his lips lightly to yours. “Thanks, babe.”

You smiled as you watched him leave, glad at least you could be of some comfort to him as well.

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[frogtanii]

tw. mentions / descriptions of a panic attack

bokuto was excited — more excited than he’d been in weeks!

he was finally getting the time to spend time with his beloved, his puppy, for the first time in forever thanks to the recent onslaught of drama the house had been embroiled in.

he figured he should thank you for bringing it all on because now, as he stood in front of meiko’s room, he had a chance.

“puppy!” bokuto called out, knocking on her door enthusiastically. after a moment of muttering, shuffling around and a loud curse, the door opened up just a crack to reveal meiko clad in only a thin bedsheet with her thin lips wrapped around a cigarette.

kotarou peered over her head and into her room where he spotted a quick flash of dark brown hair before meiko stepped out and closed the door behind her.

“who was that?” he questioned innocently, assuming that it was one of the other housemates. meiko narrowed her eyes at him and blew out a puff of smoke.

“what do you want bokuto.” her voice was steely and cold, nothing like her usual peppy self. still, bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in there who shouldn’t be.

“you know,” kotarou began hesitantly, studying her face for reactions. “iwaizumi doesn’t like anyone in here who hasn’t signed a contract. and also you’re not allowed to smoke.” his nose turned up at the smell, disgust for the cigarette written clear on his face.

meiko rolled her eyes at him before taking another drag and blowing the smoke out straight into his face. bokuto tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but his lung capacity wasn’t so great. i need to work on that, he thought as he heaved and choked on the smoke circling down into his chest.

the love of his life adjusted her sheet covering before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the end of the blanket. “i asked you a question bokuto. what the fuck do you want?”

the harshness in her tone made him pause. was what he was here for actually important? or would it just bother her unnecessarily?

no, he resolved. bokuto missed her and he wanted to spend time with his kinda-but-not-really-girlfriend! especially after he waited all this time!

“i, i wanted to spend time with you...” with every word, his hesitance grew until he was muttering, the look in meiko’s eyes sending chills down his spine.

“no,” she said and turned back to enter her room. “wait!” bokuto’s hand shot out to grab her arm, very gently pulling her closer to him. “please,” he whispered, tears beginning to rim his wide, golden eyes.

meiko stared back up at him with absolute rage in her eyes as she snatched her limb out of his hold. “listen to me right now bokuto, and listen well,” she sneered, taking a step back towards her bedroom. “i have never liked you. you’re so fucking childish and clingy and annoying! i literally cannot understand how anyone cares to hang around you.”

bokuto felt something inside him shatter at her words, a sharp gasp escaping his parted lips. “but-“ “no buts! you are fucking nothing to me! all you were was a warm body to sleep with but you weren’t even good for that,” meiko’s chest heaved as she finished speaking, her dark eyes trained on the tear tracks on bokuto’s cheeks.

gently, he lifted a hand to his face, barely registering the water that covered them, his mind desperately trying to understand what had just occurred. in the back of his head, he briefly noticed the sound of a door closing and muffled giggling but it was covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

how... could she? he loved her and she, she only wanted to fuck him? he poured out his entire heart, his very soul to her and for what? for her to take it and stomp on it until there was nothing left?

bokuto’s chest felt heavy — he wasn’t breathing. quickly, he took one breath, and then another and another and another until he was collapsed on the ground, heaving for air as he sobbed.

why him? what had he done to deserve this? maybe it was karma — he’d let a plastic bag float by him into a stream when he was 7 even though he knew littering was wrong. maybe it was because he didn’t kiss his mother goodbye the last time he saw her. or maybe the universe was punishing him for everything he’d done to you.

oh, you — the person who meiko had tried so hard to convince him to hate, and he had! his beloved had no reason to lie to him, or at least that’s what he believed until this moment. she lied to him about loving and caring about him so why wouldn’t she lie about everything else?

bokuto’s head was pounding as he tried to rationalize where he’d gone wrong, his usually bright eyes, dull and trained on the ceiling as he attempted to regain his breathing.

it felt like his whole world was collapsing on itself like a fallen star, just waiting to implode and destroy everyone and everything until there was nothing left and—

“hey, look at me, you’re ok,” a soft voice rang out over the buzzing in his head, his eyes beginning to focus on... your figure.

what were you doing here? he so desperately wanted to ask but the words were caught in his throat, trapped behind a wall of despair and anguish.

“don’t try to talk ok? just focus on my breathing, try and match it. i’m going to touch you now.” your soft, small (so much smaller — were you eating enough?) hand wrapped around his own and brought it up to your chest where he could feel the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

bokuto’s breath was shaky and definitely not as smooth as your own, but you didn’t seem to mind, instead holding his hand to your heart until his breathing became level and even.

he must’ve knocked out because by the time he came to, the hall was dark and you were gone, the only memory of you being a box of tissues and a glass of water on the ground next to him.

he reached for the glass first, chugging the whole thing down in only a few seconds. all that crying must have dehydrated him immensely, he realized as he searched for another cup.

standing on shaky legs, bokuto attempted to maneuver to the kitchen, holding onto the walls for stability as he crept through the dark corridors.

he quickly filled up his favorite owl mug (a gift from she-who-will-not-be-named) with water once he made it to the kitchen, extra careful not to make a lot of noise just in case someone was asleep.

bokuto swiftly gulped down his water, placing the cup in the sink where he knew it would not remain because if anything was sure, it was the clean state of the house that meiko kept.

ugh meiko. the whole situation hurt to think about so he didn’t, instead choosing to bury it in the deep recesses of his mind, never to be seen again.

as bokuto trudged upstairs back to his bedroom, he noticed the big black trash bag sat at the end of the hall near daichi’s room. he debated on taking it out himself but was ultimately convinced not to.

it’ll be gone tomorrow, he reasoned as he slipped into his room and bed before quickly falling asleep.

...

it was not gone the next day. neither was the cup in the sink, or the hair on the floor in the bathroom, or the laundry strewn all over the living room.

the whole house seemed to be in shambles and it remained that way for the entirety of the week. meiko was nowhere to be seen, flitting in and out of the house at random, escaping to only god knows where with god knows who.

bokuto didn’t care anymore. she ruined his life so why should he give a half of a shit where she was? what he did care about, on the other hand, was figuring what to do about you.

he wanted to thank you and apologize but he wasn’t sure how to do so! he knew he said some horrible things to you and was determined to make it right — not just for you but for himself too.

℗ poker face

shattered

series masterlist

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an - ok writing this genuinely made me cry???? bokuto is my comfort character so making him go through this i just </3 i hope it came across ok? it’s literally 1 am so there may v well be typos and massive mistakes but i hope u guys enjoy this miserably sad chapter LMAO don’t forget to feed me <3

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[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.