#i should try pushing forward with chapter 5 soon

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1943 - wounds and whispers

chapter summary: After an attack on the battlefield, Logan wakes up to you as his nurse in Italy during World War 2.

word count: 8.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this one is short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but i kind of wanted it to be that way- war is unpredictable. also, the ending is a tad bit different from the other endings, you'll see when you read! anyways, next chapter is when things get a little bit more interesting...

warnings/tags: mentions of injuries, fluff, angst, war, character death(s)

series masterlist - chapter 3 → chapter 5

A mere 43 years later and Logan was already in his second war since you died that last time. Part of him almost wished that he could die, maybe then he’d see you and get to hold you forever. But that just wasn’t in the cards for him; not when he had this healing, not when he was already 111 years old.

Logan's mind was swimming in a fog of pain as consciousness crept back in. The last thing he remembered was the deafening blast of gunfire and the sharp, searing pain that tore through his side as he charged forward in the midst of the chaos. War was hell, and he’d been through more than enough of them to know that. But this—this felt different.

His eyes fluttered open, the bright lights overhead blinding him for a moment as he groaned, trying to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, his entire body feeling like it had been torn apart and put back together again.

“Easy there, soldier.”

The voice was soft but firm, and it froze him in place. Logan’s heart skipped a beat, recognition flooding through him even though he knew it wasn’t possible. His vision focused, and then he saw you. Standing right over him, your face illuminated by the dim lights of the field hospital.

It was you.

Logan’s breath hitched, his mind spinning. He’d seen you die—he’d held you in his arms not long before everything faded. The memory of that night, the pain in your eyes, the blood pooling beneath you—it was burned into him. He’d lost you again. But now here you were, alive, standing in front of him like nothing had ever happened.

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak. “Y/N?” You probably didn’t hear him, given the quiet tone of his voice.

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, your hands working with practiced care to check his wounds. “You’re lucky, you know,” you said, ignoring the way he looked at you, as if he'd seen a ghost. “The shrapnel didn’t hit anything vital. You’ll live.”

Logan swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a pull, the same pull he’d felt every time he met you in a different life. But this time, it hurt even more. Because this was the first time he’d seen you since the last time you died, and now, here you were, again, as if the universe had decided to toy with him once more.

“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice rough with emotion.

You glanced at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. “How do you know my name?”

Logan hesitated, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell you—not yet. Not about the lives you’d lived before, not about the times he’d watched you die. He had to keep it together. You didn’t remember him, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

He cleared his throat, managing a tight smile. “Lucky guess,” he said, his voice strained, trying to mask the tidal wave of emotion crashing through him.

You gave him a curious look but didn’t press further. “Well, lucky or not, you should be more careful out there,” you said, turning your attention back to bandaging him up. “You’re not invincible, even if you act like it.”

Logan nearly chuckled at that. If only you knew. But instead, he gritted his teeth as you finished patching him up. The pain from the wound was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He’d spent so many lifetimes with you, always losing you too soon. Always feeling like there wasn’t enough time.

And now, here you were again, standing so close to him, your hands gentle as you worked. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with memories of you—of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d always found him, no matter the time or place.

But this wasn’t the past. This was 1943, and you didn’t know him. He had to play it cool, keep his distance, even though every instinct in him was screaming to reach out and hold you, to make sure you didn’t slip away again.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

You gave him a small nod, satisfied with your work. “Well, you’re still not cleared to leave yet, so you’re not gonna get away from me that easily.” You grabbed a small flashlight from your pocket and leaned in a little closer, shining it into his eyes to check his pupils.

Logan grunted, feeling the warmth of your proximity. It was almost unbearable how familiar you felt, even though you didn’t know him—at least not in this lifetime. His eyes followed your movements, the way you focused on him like he was just another soldier you had to patch up. But to him, you were everything.

“You know,” you started, your voice calm but a little teasing, “you really shouldn’t be throwing yourself into the line of fire like that. Kinda hard for us to patch you up if you don’t have any parts left.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, though his heart wasn’t in it. “I’ll heal,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was rougher than usual, like the words were struggling to get past the weight of seeing you again, alive and breathing.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Heal, huh? Well, you’re not invincible, soldier. Trust me, I’ve seen men think they’re untouchable, and they don’t last long in a place like this.”

Logan looked away, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of your voice. He didn’t want to make this harder on himself than it already was. “Guess I’ll just have to be more careful, then.”

You chuckled softly, finishing your check-up and tucking the flashlight back into your pocket. “Yeah, you do that.” There was a hint of amusement in your tone, but you were still clearly all business. “Now,” you looked at a clipboard in your hands, “James, you have a different name you’d like to go by?”

Logan grunted, his gaze fixed on you. The name ‘James’ felt foreign now, like a remnant of a past he didn't quite belong to anymore. His eyes flickered to the clipboard, then back to your face. The memories of every life you'd lived flashed through his mind, each one ending the same way, with you slipping away from him.

“Logan,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than he intended.

You looked up, scribbling something down. “Logan, huh?” You nodded, writing it down. “Suits you better than James… I think.”

Logan gave a small grunt, a mix of acknowledgment and the emotions he was keeping buried. He couldn’t tell you how much it hurt hearing you say his name, knowing you didn’t remember him at all. Every time he heard your voice, it was like a punch to the gut—a reminder that no matter how many times you came back, he was always starting over, and you… you were always slipping away.

“Glad you approve,” Logan muttered, his eyes drifting away from you. He was trying hard not to stare, trying not to let the overwhelming rush of memories take over. You looked the same, almost exactly as you had the last time—before George pulled that damn trigger.

You didn’t seem to notice the tension radiating from him, too focused on the task at hand. “Well, Logan,” you said, setting the clipboard aside. “You’ll need to stay here for observation, at least for the night. Make sure your body’s handling the recovery properly. We’ve seen some soldiers who think they’re fine, and then—” You made a gesture, mimicking someone fainting, a half-smile tugging at your lips.

Logan’s eyes flicked to the floor, suppressing the mix of emotions threatening to boil over. That small smile—the one you always had, no matter how many lives you lived—was painfully familiar. Each time, the same softness, the same warmth. But this time, it cut deeper because he knew how this would end. You’d be gone. Again.

“You’re real good at this, aren’t ya?” Logan said, his voice low, trying to sound casual despite the weight of everything between you two, or at least, everything he carried alone.

You shrugged, your smile widening just a little. “I’ve had a lot of practice lately. War isn’t exactly kind to anyone.” Your eyes softened for a moment, like you were remembering someone, but you shook it off, standing straighter. “But, yeah. It’s what I do.”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to tell you everything, to scream at the universe for pulling you into his life only to tear you away. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had to play along, had to act like this was the first time he’d ever met you.

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Guess we’re both used to it, then. War and all.”

You glanced at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Yeah?” There was a pause as you sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “You seem… different from the other soldiers I’ve patched up. Seen a lot, huh?”

Logan leaned back slightly, his hand brushing against the place where the ring still rested in his pocket. He hadn’t taken it out in years. “More than you’d believe.”

There was a quiet moment between you, your gaze lingering on him as if trying to figure him out. “Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s hope you don’t add anything else to that list while you’re here.”

Logan couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that escaped his throat. If only you knew what was on that list already. If only he could tell you how many times he’d seen you die, how many times he’d watched your life slip through his fingers. But instead, he just nodded again.

“I’ll try,” he muttered, though the words felt hollow.

As you stood up, preparing to check on the next patient, you paused, glancing back at him. There was something in your eyes, something almost familiar. But then, you smiled again—kind, unaware of the history Logan held with you—and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Logan exhaled slowly, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He had to stay strong, had to keep his distance. But deep down, he knew he was already caught, already tangled in the same painful cycle.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the engagement ring he’d never had the chance to give you.

Maybe this time, he thought. Maybe this time, you’d survive.

But Logan knew better than to hope.

---

You checked in with one of the doctors when Sandra, your friend and fellow nurse, put a hand on your shoulder and turned you to face her.

“Does he have a nice voice?”

You snorted, shaking your head at Sandra. "A nice voice? That’s what you want to ask?”

Sandra grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Well, I saw the way you were looking at him. Thought maybe he had some mysterious, deep, soldier-thing going on.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a clipboard from the nearby desk. “He’s just a patient, Sandra.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Sandra leaned in, lowering her voice. “You didn’t exactly hurry out of that room.”

You shot her a look. “I was doing my job.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying it. “So... does he?”

You sighed, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto your face. “Yeah, okay. Maybe a little. He’s got that gruff, low thing going on.”

“I knew it!” Sandra nudged your shoulder, her expression smug. “You’re into the mysterious types.”

“Oh, come on,” you muttered, flipping through the papers on your clipboard, though none of it really held your focus. Your mind drifted back to Logan’s face—his eyes, the way he carried himself like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. There was something about him, something that felt... familiar. But you brushed it off. That wasn’t possible.

“I’m not into anyone,” you said quickly, snapping back to reality. “Especially not a guy I’ve known for like five minutes.”

Sandra raised her hands in surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” But the teasing gleam in her eyes suggested she wasn’t done with the subject.

You gave her a half-hearted glare before heading off to check on another patient. But as much as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. The way his voice had this gravelly edge to it, how it felt like he was holding something back every time he spoke. And then there was the way he looked at you—like he recognized you, like you were someone important.

But that couldn’t be right.

---

You came to check on Logan later that night before you’d head back to your quarters for some rest. The makeshift hospital was quieter now, just a few murmurs from patients in the distance. Your shift had been long, draining, but something about checking on Logan felt... different.

You pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Logan was sitting up on the bed, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was tense, like he was carrying the weight of more than just a few injuries.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked softly, keeping your tone professional despite the strange pull you felt toward him.

Logan looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than it should. “Better. You know, thanks to you.”

You gave a small smile, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze drifting back to the floor. “Still, you’re good at it.”

There was that same heaviness in his voice, like he was holding back more than just gratitude. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about him felt... familiar. It was strange, like you knew him somehow, but you brushed the thought away.

“You should get some rest,” you said, checking the bandage on his side. Your fingertips lingered on the spot where the bloody wound had been earlier, but there was nothing—just smooth skin, as if it had never been there at all. Your brow furrowed, lips parting slightly in disbelief. You’d seen the gash when they’d brought him in, deep and ugly, impossible to heal so quickly.

Logan’s muscles tensed under your touch, and when you glanced at him, his expression was guarded, like he was bracing for something.

"That’s... impossible," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It was bad earlier. There should at least be... a scar."

Logan shrugged, trying to act indifferent, but the movement was stiff. "Guess I got lucky."

You pulled your hand back slowly, still frowning. “Lucky doesn’t cover it. I’ve never seen anyone heal like that.” You tilted your head, curiosity edging into your voice. “How?”

His jaw tightened. "It happens."

“That’s not much of an answer.” Your arms crossed over your chest, and the edge in your tone softened just a bit. “You’ve got to admit it’s... weird.”

Logan gave you a look, one that made you feel like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out how much he could say. Or maybe how little. "Weird, yeah," he muttered, voice low. "Not much I can do about it, though."

You knew a deflection when you heard one, but you let it go—for now. You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to trust him, but there was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that made it impossible not to.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, you shook your head with a faint smile. "Well, however it happened, you’re lucky I didn’t call the doctors in to see this miracle." You gave him a teasing look. “You’d be their new favorite science project.”

A ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of Logan’s mouth, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I’d rather avoid that."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. There was something strangely easy about being near him, like you’d known each other for years. You glanced at his hands—rough, calloused, like they’d seen more battles than you could imagine—and wondered just how much he’d been through.

"Why do I feel like there’s more to you than you’re letting on?" you asked softly.

Logan’s gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. "You ever meet someone and feel like you’ve known ’em before?"

His words struck a nerve, sending a chill down your spine. You swallowed, the strange familiarity between you two suddenly harder to ignore. "Yeah... I guess I have."

Logan nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. He rubbed his thumb against the curve of his knuckle—a nervous habit, maybe. Or just old memories surfacing.

"You should get some rest," you said quietly, almost reluctantly. It felt wrong to leave, like there was more to say, even if you didn’t know what.

"I’m not good at rest," Logan admitted, voice low.

You gave a soft laugh. "No one is these days."

As you stood up, Logan’s hand moved slightly—just enough that the tips of his fingers brushed yours, barely a touch but enough to make your heart skip. You looked down at him, surprised by how natural it felt, like you’d been standing this close to him a thousand times before.

For a moment, it seemed like Logan might say something—something important. His hand hovered near his pocket, where a small, heavy object pressed against the fabric. But then he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as if he’d changed his mind at the last second.

"Goodnight," you whispered, your voice softer than before.

Logan gave you a short nod, but his eyes followed you as you stepped away, like he was memorizing the moment—like it might slip away from him if he looked away for even a second.

---

The next morning, when you went to check on Logan, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, buttoning up his shirt over his white beater.

“Hey—wait.” You stepped in front of Logan, your hands instinctively finding his forearm as he finished buttoning his shirt. “You’re not cleared to leave yet.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, something passed between you—like the echo of a memory, distant but familiar. He gave you a half-smile, the kind that looked more like a grimace, and kept working on the last button.

“Gotta go,” he muttered. “Don’t do well sittin’ still.”

You crossed your arms, not budging. “Doesn’t mean you get to walk out of here half-healed.”

His gaze darkened, jaw clenching as if biting back words. You could tell he didn’t like being told what to do, but there was something more in his expression—something haunted, buried beneath that tough exterior.

“You think I can’t handle it?” he asked, voice low, gravelly.

“It’s not about what you can handle.” Your eyes softened, a hint of frustration slipping through. “It’s about what’s smart. I’ve patched up enough soldiers to know that leavin’ too soon isn’t.”

Logan’s lips twitched, like he might argue, but then he stilled, studying you with a strange intensity. The weight of his stare made your breath hitch for a second, but you refused to back down.

“Stay,” you insisted. “At least for another day. Let the wound close properly.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, like it was more trouble than it was worth to argue with you. “You always this stubborn?”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah. Part of the charm.”

Logan huffed, a reluctant laugh buried somewhere in the sound. He leaned forward slightly, his knees brushing yours where you stood between his legs. The air felt heavier—charged with something neither of you could quite name.

“Y/N...” The way your name left his mouth was different. Familiar, almost reverent, like he was tasting the sound of it after a long time.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “What?”

Logan’s hand drifted toward his pocket, hesitating just for a beat. He seemed to think better of it and instead leaned back, propping himself on his palms like he was trying to keep his distance.

“Nothing.” His tone was gruff, evasive, but you knew there was more he wasn’t saying.

You stayed where you were, close enough to feel the warmth of him. “You’re not really going to leave, are you?”

Logan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Shouldn’t stick around too long.”

“Why not?”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustrated. “I just shouldn’t.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, like they carried the weight of something unsaid—something important. But before you could push further, Logan shifted on the bed, brushing past you as if putting space between you would make it easier.

“Look...” His voice softened just slightly, almost apologetic. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up seemed to crack, just a little. He looked at you like you were someone he wanted to hold onto, but couldn’t—like you’d slip through his fingers if he let himself get too close.

You leaned in just a bit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let me help, Logan.”

The way his name fell from your lips sent a flicker of something through him—something dangerous, vulnerable, like it meant too much. His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he might tell you whatever he was holding back.

But instead, he gave you a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You already have.”

It felt like the conversation was teetering on the edge of something, but neither of you were ready to tip it over just yet.

“You win,” he muttered finally, his tone rough but resigned. “I’ll stay... one more day.”

You grinned, victorious. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. Maybe I’ll even let ya accompany me to the mess tent for lunch.” You held up a finger, playful but firm. “But only if you’re good.”

Logan gave a soft huff, the closest thing to a laugh you’d gotten out of him all day. “You makin’ the rules now?”

“That’s right,” you said with a smirk. “I am the nurse, after all.”

He shook his head, amused despite himself. “Fair enough.”

You lingered a moment longer than necessary, and Logan didn’t move away. His hand twitched near his knee, like he was thinking about reaching for you. It wasn’t the kind of gesture that strangers made—it felt too familiar, too intimate, like muscle memory.

“See ya at lunch, then,” you murmured, trying to shake off the strange pull toward him.

Logan gave a small nod, but his gaze stayed on you as you turned toward the door. Just as you reached it, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“You better not sneak out while I’m gone,” you teased, though part of you wasn’t sure it was really a joke.

Logan’s lips quirked at the corner, but the look in his eyes was heavy, weighed down with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

---

By the time lunch rolled around, you were half-expecting Logan to be gone—off on some stubborn mission to leave the hospital before you could stop him. But when you returned, there he was, sitting up on the bed and rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his forearms.

"Kept my end of the bargain," he said, giving you a crooked grin that was more shadow than smile.

“Guess that means you earned lunch.” You gestured toward the door, and Logan pushed himself off the bed with an ease that didn’t match the severity of the injury he'd arrived with. You gave him a skeptical glance but decided to let it slide—for now.

The two of you walked through the makeshift hospital in comfortable silence. You noticed how other soldiers gave him nods or muttered greetings in passing, even though none of them really knew him. Something about Logan just demanded respect—maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you.

At the mess tent, you grabbed two metal trays, handing one to him. “Hope you’re not picky. The food’s... not exactly five-star.”

Logan smirked. “I’ve had worse.”

You sat together at a small table, away from the loudest group of soldiers. For a moment, it was almost peaceful, like the war outside didn’t exist. Logan picked at his food absently, and you couldn’t help but study him—how his hands moved, how his jaw clenched like he was always bracing for bad news.

“So... you’ve done this before?” you asked, breaking the quiet. “The soldier thing, I mean.”

Logan glanced at you, something flickering in his expression. “Yeah. A few times.”

A few times. The way he said it made it sound like more than just a couple of tours.

“Must’ve been rough,” you murmured, stirring your soup. “I can’t imagine coming back to it over and over.”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you, and for a second, you felt pinned under the weight of it. Like he knew something you didn’t. “You get used to it,” he muttered, but the sadness in his voice told a different story.

There was a beat of silence, and then you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity getting the better of you. “You ever... think about what you’d do, you know, if you weren’t here? If the war wasn’t happening?”

Logan stared at his tray, his jaw tightening like he was biting back something painful. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Once or twice.”

The way he said it made your chest ache, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “What would you do?”

Logan’s thumb brushed along the edge of his tray—a nervous habit, like he was weighing whether to tell you the truth. “There’s someone,” he said slowly. “Someone I thought about settlin’ down with... a long time ago.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “What happened?”

Logan looked away, his expression hardening like a door slamming shut. “Didn’t work out.”

It wasn’t the whole story—you could tell that much. But you didn’t push. There was something in the way he said it, like the loss was still raw, even if it had happened years ago.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unsure why you felt the need to say it.

Logan gave a small shrug, like it didn’t matter. But you knew better. It did matter. It mattered a lot.

---

After lunch, the two of you lingered outside the tent, neither of you in a rush to return to the chaos inside. The sun was warm on your face, a rare moment of peace in a world that had been anything but peaceful lately.

“You’re not what I expected,” you said suddenly, glancing at Logan.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’d you expect?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. Maybe someone more... closed off. But you’re not as much of a mystery as you think.”

Logan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “You’d be surprised.”

You bit your lip, studying him. “You feel... familiar,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Like we’ve met before.”

Logan went still, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off with some sarcastic comment. But instead, he looked at you with that same haunted expression you’d seen earlier—the one that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe we have,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

The words sent a strange chill down your spine. You stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. But Logan didn’t offer any more answers. He just stood there, watching you like he was waiting for something.

Before you could ask, Sandra’s voice called from the distance, snapping you both out of the moment. “Y/N! Doctor’s looking for you.”

You sighed, giving Logan a small, reluctant smile. “Duty calls.”

Logan nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Better get to it.”

You hesitated for just a second longer, something inside you screaming that there was more to this—more to him. But instead, you gave him one last smile before turning away.

---

When Logan was alone again, he pulled the ring from his pocket, turning it over in his fingers. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that only hurt more now.

He’d carried it through battles, through lifetimes, always hoping—maybe this time. But hope had a way of slipping through his fingers, just like you always did.

Logan clenched the ring in his fist, his jaw tightening. He knew better than to hope. He always did. But still... here you were.

For now, at least.

---

The next day you begrudgingly cleared Logan and showed him to where he would be staying before he got called away for another fight. It was a small quarters, shared with some of the other guys, but it was better than the hospital bed.

You should know. Sometimes you’ve taken power naps on those beds—when the hospital got too busy or you needed a break but couldn’t leave. They were uncomfortable as hell, but after long hours, you didn’t have much choice.

Logan tossed his bag on the bunk, eyeing the cramped quarters. It wasn’t much—just a room with a few cots and a flimsy curtain dividing it from the rest of the barracks—but he didn’t seem to care.

“You’ll be all right here,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Logan smirked, glancing at the bed like it was just another obstacle in his way. “I’ve had worse.”

You gave him a sideways glance, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, I’m starting to see a pattern with you.”

He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound doing strange things to your heart. His presence was so... solid. Like he’d been through hell and back, yet here he was, standing in front of you like nothing could break him.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you added with a smirk. “There’s always a chance you’ll end up back in the infirmary if you’re not careful.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made the muscles in his forearms flex under his rolled-up sleeves. “You worried about me, nurse?”

“Maybe I am,” you teased, keeping it light even though part of you was serious. “I don’t want to have to stitch you back up.”

He laughed again, softer this time, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than just casual. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll heal.”

The words hung between you, something unspoken settling in. There was always something deeper with Logan, like the surface of his words barely scratched at the things he carried underneath.

Before you could respond, a couple of soldiers passed by, giving Logan nods of acknowledgment as they went. You noticed the way they looked at him, like he was someone who’d earned their respect without even trying.

Logan pushed off the wall, moving past you toward the door. “Thanks for the room,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “But I could use a drink.”

You laughed. “Well, good luck with that. This isn’t exactly the Ritz.”

He stopped just outside the door, turning back to you. His eyes were sharp, but there was something softer underneath. “You wanna join me?”

You paused, surprised by the offer. “Are you askin’ me out, Logan?”

His lips twitched into a half-smile. “Just tryin’ to be friendly.”

You let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head as you grabbed your cap and followed him. “Fine. But if you’re looking for whiskey, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of your boots crunching on the gravel road filling the air. The base had quieted down a bit as the sun dipped lower, the day easing into a calm that didn’t come often in a warzone.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Logan from time to time, trying to figure him out. He was so... different. From anyone you’d met. From any soldier you’d treated. And yet, he felt so familiar.

You found a small spot near one of the mess tents where a few crates had been stacked up like makeshift seats. Logan grabbed a canteen from his jacket, unscrewing the cap before taking a long drink. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“That better be water,” you joked, taking a seat beside him.

Logan handed you the canteen, smirking. “Try it and find out.”

You took a cautious sip, then immediately coughed, the burn of the alcohol catching you off guard. “God—what is this?”

“Something I picked up,” Logan said, eyes gleaming with amusement as you wiped your mouth. “Figured it’d help take the edge off.”

You gave him a playful glare, handing the canteen back. “Next time, a little warning, maybe?”

Logan shrugged, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re trouble, Logan.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the crate. “Been called worse.”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, passing the canteen back and forth. The alcohol burned, but it wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever tasted—not by a long shot. And it did what Logan said it would—it took the edge off.

You studied him for a moment, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he was sitting still. “You feel familiar,” you said quietly, your voice almost drowned out by the soft sounds of the base around you. “Like we’ve met before.”

Logan’s expression shifted—just for a second. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away from you and toward the horizon. “Maybe we have,” he murmured, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it.

The words sent a strange, unexplainable shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could, he stood up, stretching his arms over his head like he was shaking something off.

“C’mon,” he said, his voice lighter now, almost like he was forcing it. “You ready to head back?”

You blinked, still caught in the haze of the moment. But you nodded, standing up and brushing the dirt from your uniform. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of you walked back toward the barracks in silence, the air between you feeling heavier now. Something had shifted—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But you knew it wasn’t nothing.

When you reached the barracks, Logan stopped at the door, turning to look at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice rougher than usual, like he was wrestling with something inside him. “If... if things ever get bad, you find me. Got it?”

You frowned, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Logan, what—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. “You find me. No matter what.”

You swallowed, nodding slowly. “Okay. I will.”

He held your gaze for a second longer, then nodded, like he was satisfied with your answer. “Good.”

Without another word, Logan turned and headed inside, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

What did he mean? Why did he look at you like he knew something you didn’t?

You lingered there for a moment before finally heading to your own quarters. But even as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Logan’s words echoed in your mind.

You find me. No matter what.

---

The next few days were a strange mix of routine and tension. Logan stayed around the base, mostly keeping to himself, but you found yourself crossing paths with him more often than you expected. Every time, there was that same intensity in his gaze, like he was watching you, waiting for something.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. But it did make your chest tighten every time you saw him.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found yourself wandering toward the edge of the base, needing a moment to clear your head. The war, the patients, the constant pressure—it was all getting to you. And Logan... well, Logan wasn’t making things any easier.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Need some company?”

You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Jeez, you scared me,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he said, pushing off the tree and walking over to stand beside you. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You sighed, glancing out at the fading sun. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there beside you, his presence solid and reassuring. After a few beats of silence, he spoke.

“You doin’ all right?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It’s just... a lot sometimes, you know?”

Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Yeah. I get it.”

There was something in the way he said it—something that made you believe he really did get it. Like he knew exactly what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“Thanks for asking,” you said quietly, your gaze still focused on the horizon.

Logan was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “I meant what I said before,” he murmured. “You ever need anything... you come find me.”

You turned to look at him, the seriousness in his voice catching you off guard. “Logan... why are you doin’ this? Why are you looking out for me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and rough. “Because... you’re important. More than you know.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Important? How? Why?

Before you could ask, Logan stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “Just promise me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll come find me if you need to.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I promise.”

Logan held your gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your head spinning with questions.

You’re important. More than you know.

What did that mean? Why did Logan feel so... familiar?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood there, your mind racing. Logan had secrets—secrets you weren’t sure you were ready to uncover. But one thing was clear: whatever was between the two of you, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

---

On another day, you spotted Logan on the outskirts of base, sitting against a truck’s wheel with a notebook in hand.

He looked almost peaceful, maybe the most peaceful you’d ever seen him since he got here. Judging by the way he was moving his pencil, you assumed he was drawing something. You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him, but your curiosity got the better of you.

"Didn’t peg you for an artist," you said, walking over and leaning against the truck beside him.

Logan didn’t look up right away, just kept sketching, but there was a small smirk on his lips. "You learn a lot when you’ve got time," he muttered.

You glanced at the notebook, catching glimpses of rough lines and shadows. “What’re you drawing?”

He paused, almost like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to show you, then turned the notebook just enough for you to see. It was a sketch of the base—a surprisingly detailed one, with the buildings and surrounding trees, even some of the soldiers milling about.

“Not bad,” you said, genuinely impressed. “Didn’t know you had this in you.”

Logan shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Like I said, a lot of time.” He looked at you then, and for a brief moment, there was something more behind his eyes, something deeper. “Keeps me grounded.”

You studied him, wondering what that really meant. Logan had always been a bit of a mystery, but there were moments—like now—where it felt like there was so much more to him than he let on.

“You ever thought about doing something with it? You know, beyond just sketches?” you asked, half teasing, half curious.

Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not the ‘show-off my art’ type. It’s just... for me.” He glanced back at the drawing, his expression softening in a way you didn’t often see. “Helps me forget.”

You nodded, feeling a tug at your chest. “Forget what?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he said, “Everything.”

The weight in his voice told you there was more to that statement—more than you could guess. You’d learned over the past few days that Logan was carrying his own kind of burden, just like you were. And yet, somehow, it felt like his was so much heavier.

“Must be a lot to forget,” you said softly.

Logan’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, you thought he might actually open up. But instead, he just gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to his sketching.

You watched him for a while, feeling the comfortable silence settle between you. It was odd, but Logan’s presence had become... something you looked forward to. Even with all the unspoken tension, being around him made things feel a little less overwhelming.

“I never thanked you,” you said after a while, breaking the quiet. “For, you know... looking out for me.”

Logan’s pencil paused again, and he glanced up. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” you insisted, your eyes meeting his. “You didn’t have to. But you did.”

Logan shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude, but his eyes softened. “I told you. You’re important.”

That word again—important. You wanted to ask him why, wanted to press him on what he really meant by that, but something in his expression told you he wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet.

“Just… stay outta trouble,” Logan said, his voice dropping into something rougher, more serious. “I’d rather not have to pull you out of any more messes.”

You smiled, trying to keep things light. “I’ll do my best. But, you know, being a nurse in the middle of a war, trouble kinda finds me.”

Logan let out a soft huff of a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

The sky was growing darker now, the last traces of sunlight fading. You knew you should probably head back to the barracks soon, but something kept you rooted to the spot, standing beside him. The air between you felt charged, like there was something unspoken hanging there, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Logan,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “Why does it feel like you’ve been watching me? Not just looking out for me, but... like you’ve known me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. His eyes shifted, as if he was deciding whether to answer that. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, waiting for his response.

“I haven’t,” he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

The way he said it made you frown. “What does that mean?”

Logan’s gaze held yours, intense and searching. There was a flicker of something there—regret? Pain? Before you could figure it out, he looked away, his fingers tightening around the edges of the notebook.

“It means… I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “Not again.”

Again. There it was—a crack in the wall he’d built around himself. But before you could push him on it, Logan stood abruptly, tucking the notebook under his arm.

“You should get some rest,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “Long day tomorrow.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift. “Logan—”

But he was already walking away, his back stiff and his pace quick. You watched him go, your mind spinning with more questions than answers. Something was going on with Logan—something bigger than you’d realized.

And you had a feeling you weren’t going to let it go until you found out the truth.

---

The next morning you found out that Logan had already gone on some mission to Sicily. You weren’t sure why you felt sad, maybe a bit betrayed that he left without saying goodbye, but you did.

You had only known him for a few days, but somehow it seemed longer.

You couldn’t just stand around and dwell on Logan leaving without a goodbye. There was work to do. You made your way to the medical tent where a doctor had been prepping for a surgery. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic hit your nose, grounding you in the moment.

"Y/N, glad you’re here. We’ve got a soldier with a bullet wound to the abdomen," the doctor said, his tone brisk. "I need your hands steady and sharp today."

You nodded, pushing thoughts of Logan to the back of your mind. "Got it, Doctor."

The surgery went on for hours, the steady rhythm of your breathing matching the precise movements of your hands as you assisted. It was intense, but you had no time to be distracted. Life and death were real here, and your job was to fight for life.

When the surgery was finally over, the soldier stabilized, you stepped outside the tent to catch your breath. The sky was still overcast, and the damp air felt heavy. You leaned against a wooden post, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

Logan was gone, but the memory of him lingered. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d left something unsaid. There had been too many moments—too many heavy, unspoken words between you. You tried to brush it off. It had only been a few days since you’d met him, after all. But somehow, it felt like more.

"Y/N."

You looked up to see one of the other nurses approaching. "Yeah?"

"You’ve been requested to assist with another unit. They’re setting up a temporary hospital closer to the front lines. It’ll be rough, but they need experienced hands."

You hesitated. The front lines meant more danger, more chaos. But the soldier in you—the part that was here to help, to make a difference—knew you couldn’t say no.

"When do I leave?" you asked, straightening up.

"Tomorrow morning, first light."

You nodded, giving a small smile. "Thanks for the heads-up."

That night, you tried to sleep, but your mind kept wandering back to Logan. To his last words before he’d left—"I don’t want you to get hurt. Not again." What had he meant by ‘again’? It kept echoing in your mind, nagging at you.

---

The next morning came quickly, and before you knew it, you were being packed into a truck heading closer to the front lines. The landscape passed by in a blur, and the closer you got to the new camp, the louder the sounds of war became. Shells exploded in the distance, and the ground seemed to vibrate with tension.

You spent the next few days in a haze of blood, bandages, and exhaustion. There was barely any time to think, let alone dwell on Logan. But still, every once in a while, your thoughts drifted to him—wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe.

It was late one night, a few days into your new assignment, when the unexpected happened. The sirens had started to blare, lights flashing around camp. That could only mean one thing- you were under attack. And judging by the loud engines overhead, none of you were going to make it out alive.

---

Logan had gone with other soldiers to Sicily for Operation Husky. He didn’t want to leave you, but part of him thought, hoped, that maybe he was your bad luck charm.

Logan stared at the coastline of Sicily, but his mind was elsewhere. The mission was straightforward—get in, clear the path for the troops, and secure the area. But no matter how focused he tried to stay, thoughts of you kept creeping back in. He wondered if you were safe. He hoped, for your sake, that you weren’t thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you.

It was torture, being away. But deep down, Logan believed it was better this way. Maybe him being around was what doomed you every time. You had died three times before, and each time, he had been there. Maybe this time, distance would keep you safe.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting you. The thought of your smile, your laughter, the way you challenged him—it made him ache with something deeper than just desire. It was like an old wound that never healed, no matter how fast the rest of him did.

One of the soldiers called his name, pulling him from his thoughts. “Logan, you with us, man?”

He grunted in response, nodding toward the others. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good,” the guy said. “We’re heading out.”

Logan followed, but his thoughts drifted again, back to you. He had promised himself he wouldn’t get attached this time. But it was too late for that. He’d been attached since 1854, since that first smile, that first laugh.

---

It was a few days before Logan made it back to base, one closer to the frontlines. The mission had gone as planned, but something gnawed at him, an uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake.

As soon as the base came into view, Logan noticed something was off. Smoke still lingered in the air, and there were fewer people around than there should’ve been. His gut twisted. Something had happened while he was gone.

He found one of the soldiers he recognized, grabbing him by the arm. “What happened here?”

The guy’s face darkened. “We were hit. Bombing raid. Caught us off guard. There... there weren’t many survivors.”

Logan’s heart dropped. “Where’s the hospital unit?”

The soldier hesitated, eyes flicking away from Logan’s intense gaze. “It was one of the first targets. No one made it out.”

Logan felt like the ground had dropped from under him. “What do you mean, no one?” His voice was a low growl, almost dangerous.

The soldier shook his head. “I’m sorry, man. They didn’t stand a chance.”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. The world around him blurred as the words sank in. You were gone. Again.

Without saying another word, Logan turned and walked toward what was left of the hospital tent. He had to see it for himself, even though part of him knew it was true. There was nothing left but rubble and debris.

His chest tightened, the weight of it crushing. You were gone. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Again.

Logan stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the wreckage. He felt that familiar, burning anger rising inside him, but it was mixed with something else this time—grief. Deep, raw grief. He wanted to scream, to punch something, anything, but all he could do was stand there, numb.

He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box he always carried with him. The engagement ring. The one he had never used.

It had been almost ninety years since he bought it. And still, he carried it, hoping one day he might finally be able to give it to you. But every time, every life, you slipped through his fingers.

Logan swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. How many more times he could lose you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with emotion.

He had thought putting distance between you two would protect you. But it didn’t matter. You were gone, just like the other times.

And now, once again, he was left with nothing but memories and that damned ring.

in this chapter logan is 111 years old and reader is around 24-27 years old.

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 5

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: the next day you meet evan at the library, where he makes you explain your actions yesterday. then, the next day, an innocent conversation almost turns into one you're both waiting for.

word count: 2.5k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: you guys!!! the feedback on this fic has been so overwhelming, thank you so much!!! i was gonna post a request today but since this one was a little better edited and i haven't had a lot of time today, i figured i'd post this today instead and post the request tomorrow! enjoy<333

warnings: inexperienced!reader, slight enemies to lovers??? a touch of slowburn???, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

The next morning, you drag yourself out of bed. You’re really not looking forward to seeing Evan today, and it feels a little weird. You’re usually excited to see him, but you can’t push away the dread in your belly as you think about what to say to him if he asks why you were so short with him yesterday. While you do feel bad about how you treated him, your feelings about him stay the same: you don’t believe he actually likes you. You just know now that you can’t hold that against him. You can’t force him to like you back, after all.

You make your way to the fifth floor of the library, seeing that he’s already sitting at the table you both have deemed yours. You sit down without a word and start pulling your supplies out of your bag, trying to ignore the way he’s studying your movements.

As soon as you get situated, you start to open your laptop, but his hand immediately comes out to close it. He leans forward on the table in your direction, making sure part of his arm is on your laptop as he rests his chin on his fist, making sure you can’t open it and ignore his presence any further.

“Nuh uh. No assignment today. You’re gonna talk to me about what’s going on in your pretty little head.” he states, keeping his eyes soft as he looks up at you, trying not to spook you. He notices the way you’re holding your breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you gather your thoughts.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” you say softly once you open your eyes, still refusing to look him in the eye. You’re afraid you’ll tell him everything if you look in those big blue eyes. He scoffs at your words, reaching a hand out to grab your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess, don’t do this. Yell at me if you want. Just don’t ignore me.” he begs you, keeping your chin in his grip as he moves his face just inches away from yours. You have so many thoughts whirring around in your head, but all you can get out with him so close is: “We shouldn’t be friends.”

“Why the hell not?” he asks defensively, his tone hardening at your words. He tightens his grip on your chin as you try to look away, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to snap your eyes back to his. 

“We have nothing in common. You play football, and you go to all the frat parties, and you get like, every single girl you want, probably. I don’t do any of that. I go to class, and when I’m not doing class work, I hang out with my roommate, or go to work.” you explain. You’re not exactly saying you don’t want to be friends, just that you don’t understand it, and he picks up on this.

“Why does that matter?” He’s desperate to understand where you’re coming from. He really sees nothing wrong with what you’re saying. Your differences are what attracted him to you in the first place, and how pretty you were, but that’s not the point.

“It just makes no sense!” you exclaim, looking around the library with wide eyes once you realize how loud it came out. “I don’t know why I thought we could be friends, or something. We should just finish this assignment, and be done with it.” you finish, voice much softer as you lean away from his touch, trying to open your laptop again.

“I don’t want that.” he says matter of factly, putting a hand over your laptop again, keeping it closed. You huff, looking back up at him, frowning slightly as you chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” you say with as much conviction as you can. You can feel the tears slowly forming in your eyes, and you try to will them away as you hold eye contact. You’re not even sure why you’re crying, but you can feel the way his eyes are boring into you, and it feels more intimate than any of the other times he’s looked at you.

“Why don’t I get a say in this? You think that just because we don’t have anything in common, there’s no reason for us to hang out? Well, I don’t agree. I like hanging out with you. I wanna keep hanging out with you, even when we’re done with this stupid assignment. I don’t care about any of the stuff you just said, alright? Now, please don’t shut me out.” he says angrily, jaw clenched.

He can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t understand where it’s coming from; how does this have anything to do with his conversation with Sabrina? He thought he was finally wearing you down, and it makes his chest contract in an odd way as he takes in your tense body language. 

“I just don’t understand.” you trail off, looking down as you see the anger creeping onto his face. You aren’t trying to upset him, you just aren’t sure what else to say without explaining your feelings for him.

“I don’t care. You don’t have to understand. You just have to know that you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I like seeing your pretty face everyday.” he whispers the last part, nudging your elbow softly on the table, giving you a soft smile. 

“Okay.” you mumble after a moment, feeling a smile fighting its way onto your face. You can’t help it. Everytime he calls you pretty, your heart races and you can’t help but fidget with your hands.

“Is that a smile?” he teases, ducking his head, trying to get a better look at your face, still angled down at the table. You shake your head, but a soft laugh escapes your throat, betraying you. He smirks at this, tongue trailing the inside of his cheek as his eyes glance to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“There she is. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he tells you softly, trying to ease you back out of your shell. He’s picked up on the way you get all shy when he compliments you, and he figures this is the fastest way for you to get back to how you two were before. Your eyes dart up to his, shaking your head with a small smile.

“Let’s get to work.” you whisper, pushing his hand off your laptop and opening it. He straightens his back as he stops leaning on the table, feeling giddy as he sees you slowly letting him back in.

“Yes ma’am.” he mumbles back, opening his own laptop.

The next day, you’re standing in the hall with a girl you’ve had a few classes with, a small container open between the two of you as you offer her a cookie. You have to get rid of them somehow; you baked way more than you and your roommate could eat. After a few minutes, you both say goodbye and she goes into her class.

As soon as she walks away Evan walks up to you, quickly snatching a cookie from the container before you can put the lid back on. You smile once you realize it’s him, lowering the lid of the container as you keep the cookies between the both of  you.

He winks at you as he takes a bite, then lets out a loud moan, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the taste hits his tongue. A high pitched laugh escapes your throat at the noise, and you reach out and swat him with the container lid gently, looking around at the other people in the hall who are now staring at both of you.

“Did you make these?” he asks once he swallows, opening his eyes and looking back down at you. You nod, laughing softly. “God. How do you not have a boyfriend?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” you tease softly, face growing hot. He shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth, humming softly as he chews. You laugh again at his actions, shaking your head at his puffed out cheeks full of food. As he chews, his mind races at your words. Now he’s picturing you as a girlfriend. His girlfriend. How you’d be around him. How he’d be able to touch you whenever he wanted. It’s urging him to make a move on you sooner rather than later.

After he finishes the cookie, he looks down at you, eyes softening slightly as he speaks with a more serious tone. It’s now or never, he thinks.

“Seriously, though. Why?” You shrug, pursing your lips, nervously. You think you know why, but you really don’t want to explain to this attractive man exactly why you think so.

“I don’t know. Guys don’t really approach me much.” you tell him softly, eyes darting around the hallway as you notice that most people have filed into different classrooms.

“And have you thought that you’d have more success finding a guy who likes you if you didn’t bite the head off of every guy that approaches you, princess?” he teases, referencing the first time you met. You laugh softly, shaking your head. “My attitude has nothing to do with it.” you tell him, voice getting softer as you keep talking. The way he’s staring so intently at you has your stomach doing flips, and you can feel your mouth go dry as he speaks.

“Oh, really? You’re stubborn and feisty towards anyone giving you an ounce of attention, and yet you can’t figure out why no guys stick around long enough to appreciate you?” You purse your lips at his words, taking in the smirk stuck on his face as he teases you.

“I’m not like that around other people.” you admit sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. His eyes widen slightly at this. He’s so used to you arguing with him that he almost can’t believe that you’re not like this with everyone. “Then why were you so defensive towards me? Why were you in attack mode when I first started talking to you?” he asks after a moment, his smirk widening as your eyes dart around nervously.

“You drive me crazy.” you whisper, as if it was that simple, eyes focused on your hands as you put the lid back on your container. It’s true, he does. He just doesn’t need to know it’s because he’s so attractive it makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” he matches your tone, taking another step closer to you. He’s pretty sure he knows why now; with your nervous expression and your fidgeting. He just wants you to say it. 

“Yes.” you whisper, swallowing as you raise your chin to look up at him

“And why is that, Princess? Why do I drive you crazy?” he continues, waiting for you to admit it.

“I don’t know.” you lie, letting out a shaky breath. You’re sure now that he knows everything. You’re really not doing a good job at hiding anything from him, but you’re so nervous and out of your element that you’re not sure what to do.

“No, I think you do. You’re just too embarrassed to admit it. Go ahead, tell me why I have you so riled up.” You can barely focus on his words as you look up at his face; you’re so overwhelmed by how close he is. You can’t help your eyes glancing down at his lips for a split second before moving back up to his eyes, mind blank as you try to slow your racing heart.

He notices your eyes trailing down to his lips quickly and his smirk grows wider. His eyes glace down to your lips as he takes a deep inhale, deciding that now is his chance. 

Just as he’s about to lower his lips to yours, someone drops their phone, a loud sound echoing through the hallway you’re in. It causes you both to snap out of the world where only you two exist. You jump slightly, then look away, blinking slowly as he clears his throat. 

Fuck, he thinks, the moment is now completely ruined. He barely has time to react before you look back up at him, your brain catching up to the events that just occurred.

“Don’t you have class right now?” you ask him softly. You can’t believe you thought he was going to kiss you. He’s probably flirty with every girl. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to turn off the charm? Your face grows hot as you think about it, waiting for him to respond.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I guess I’ll, uh, go,” His shoulders deflate slightly as he responds to you. Maybe he had read you wrong, maybe you didn’t want to kiss him. He doesn’t want to push you any further, so he decides it’s better for him to just go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, smiling softly, but he can see the nervousness written on your face. He gives you a small smile back and steps away, trying to give you your space. He feels like a complete douchebag, he feels like he almost just forced himself onto you. He’s picked up on your shy demeanor over the last few weeks, and he had assumed it was because of him, but now he thinks that maybe you’re just that shy around everyone else.

He says goodbye before walking away, and you let out a shaky breath once he does, still reeling from how close he was to you.

“Morning, princess.” he says as he sits down at the table the next morning, chuckling as he notices that you’re already almost done your coffee. He knows that you get coffee in the morning on campus before coming here, and he figures today has been a rough morning, as you’ve basically chugged the whole thing already. You greet him softly, taking your eyes off your laptop and meeting his gaze. 

“I accidentally submitted my pre-edited assignment to my professor. He emailed me this morning and asked why my essay was titled ‘Why Macbeth is a Whiny Little Bitch.’” you say, your face hot with embarrassment. Evan’s eyes widen, and he can’t help the loud laugh that escapes his throat, which makes the smile you were fighting erupt on your face.

“How the hell did you do that?” he asks through his laughter, and you shake your head, pursing your lips at his reaction.

“The un-edited one and the edited one were right beside each other, I clicked the wrong one.” you say, finally letting out a small laugh at your misfortune. You’re very lucky your professor is one of the most laid back ones you’ve had, and your assignments are usually very well done.

He continues laughing, and asks why you named it that, which sends you into a small rant about the Shakespeare play. 

As you explain, it’s almost as if your almost-kiss is forgotten about, or at least, the awkward events that happened after it are. You’re talking to him without feeling weird at all, and he has that stupid smirk on his face as he flirts with you again. It feels natural, and neither of you think too much about what almost happened, lost in how good it feels to be around each other.

next chapter

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[hazelvrr]

Chapter 1: The fair

S/n: As promised here's chapter 1, let me know if I should continue with this fic as I've never written a full fic before so I might be rubbish, also it's not proofread but any mistakes should only be minor. No use of y/n. I tried to capture their personalities to the best of my ability but they are so funny that they're also extremely difficult to write. I tried to not repeat any scenes from the movie, they still happen unless I mention them differently but I didn't want to sound like a broken record.

Summary: you get ready with pj and josie for the fair and they question your friendship with hazel and then you see her at the fair.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.1k

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

The fair was the one thing you looked forward to at the end of summer. Pretty much everything else about summer ending absolutely sucked but at least there was the fair.

Every year as soon as August rolled around, you were counting down the days until you could ride the ferris wheel, get cotton candy and most importantly, see hazel for the first time in 3 months.

Your 'best friend' hazel, if you could even call her that, volunteered at some charity or association of some sort all summer every single year without fail, so you couldn't see her for 3 months straight, which always drove you crazy.

You weren't quite sure why, after all, it was the same with pj and josie because they were away at some abstinence camp for the youth or as pj called it 'an anti sex cult run by a bunch of jealous old nuns who dont get any and are trying to ruin her life because shes hot as fuck' (her words, not yours) so you didn't see them either but you couldn't care less, so why were you so bothered about not seeing hazel?

Either way, you were super exited about this year's fair and had decided to get a ride from josie (only because you were embarrassed to tell anyone cool that you had failed your drivers test 5 times over the summer and had acctually managed to get yourself banned from the local dmv from 'assaulting your driving instructor' which you only did because he totally had it in for you) so naturally you thought it was a good idea to get ready at her house with her and pj.

BIG MISTAKE.

You should have known that pj and Josie, being the horny pervs that they are, spent the whole evening scheming about getting the cheerleaders attention, and how they were planning on getting possibly the straightest teenage girls you had ever seen in your whole life to fall head over heels for them.

Absolute losers.

You were so used to their antics that your brain had completely tuned them out as you applied your eyeliner, sitting beside pj, faces pushing eachother out of the way to fight to look in the tiniest mirror on josies desk.

You had stopped listening after josie had started ranting about the size of Jeff's penis, you were planning on stuffing your face with corndogs in less than an hour, and that was really putting you off the idea, that was until you heard josie say your name.

"Soo, have you spoken to hazel since school ended?"

Pj looks over at you with a shit eating grin on her face, "what she means to say is, have the two of you fucked yet?"

You roll your eyes at pj, not even dignifying her with an answer and turn your head to face josie, who was now stacking snapbacks on her head whilst looking in the mirror.

"To answer your question, yeah we've facetimed a few times and texted a lot."

"Oooo phone sex," pj giggles, "kinky."

You just flick pj in the head and begin applying your lipgloss.

Josie picks up one of the snapbacks from the floor and launches it at pjs head and instead misses and knocks over the mirror.

"Dude what the fuck." Pj hisses, standing up to go over to josies closet door to look at her outfit in the full length mirror, posing and checking herself out.

"Seriously though, when are you going to make a move?" Josie asks, backing away from pj and going to sit on the bed.

You look at her with a confused expression, "what do you mean, we're just friends."

Josie cocks her eyebrow and smirks, "please, you've been in love with her since 5th grade, you know it, I know it, pj knows it, pretty much everyone in a 10 mile radius can see it, except for hazel herself since she's an oblivious dork, but that's besides the point."

You go to answer but pj comes back over and sits back down next to you and you take the opportunity to escape and use the bathroom.

You take your time in there staring into the glass, turning your body around, checking that your hair is straight, your makeup looks good in natural lighting, oh and that your cleavage is poking through your tank top just enough, for no particular reason other than looking hot for yourself (well, that's what you told yourself anyways).

As you open the bathroom door to return to josies bedroom you hear pj and josie whispering, and being as nosy as you are, you press your ear up against the door to listen to what they're saying.

"Shhh she's gonna hear you" josie hushes.

"Shut up no she's not, that bitch couldn't hear a rocket land if it landed on the roof."

"How much did you say you wanna bet again?"

"50 bucks. If by the end of the school year they haven't fucked, I owe you 50 bucks, but if they have, you owe me 100."

"How the fuck does that work, why do I owe you double?"

"Because I'm fucking awesome... okay because I'm broke as hell and am gonna need the contribution for my homecoming dress so I can look sexy for brittany, duh."

"Yeah yeah whatever, its a deal, I think she's coming."

You once again roll your eyes at how pathetic they are. You swear to god that if you spent any more time with them than you already do, your eyes would permanently be fixed in the back of your head.

"Hey guys, you ready to go it's almost 8," you suggest as you open the door, "josie, what the hell do you think you're wearing?!"

"What do you mean?" She looks down confused at her spiritual playboy shirt, 5 carabiners hooked onto her pants' belt loops and her arm sling on her right arm.

"You look like dyke throw-up," pj cackles, standing up from the desk and following you both out of the bedroom door.

Josie looks back at pj as you're all walking down the stairs, "pj you can't say anything, look at you, you've got suspenders over your nipples like a goddamn freak."

Pj flips her off from behind her head and you can't help but giggle as you follow them out to the car and hop in the backseat.

"How'd you break your arm again josie?" You lean forward and ask as josie turns the keys and reverses out of her driveway.

"She flunked out of anti horny camp and fell out of her bunk rubbing one out," pj replies casually, looking down at her phone that displays brittanys Instagram posts from the summer, "fuck, she got even hotter over summer, how's that even possible?"

"Is isabel in any of the photos?" Josie questioned desperately, sneaking a peak down at pjs phone as she pulls up to a red light.

"God you're both pathetic."

You finally arrive to the fair, granted you're 20 minutes late because josie circled the parking lot at least 10 times as pj yelled at her to just fucking park, but josie wanted to make sure she could find a big enough spot.

You hand over your tickets and walk in, they're both muttering about something or other but you're not really listening, you're just scanning for hazel until you feel a tap on your shoulder and nearly jump out of your skin.

"Hey guys," hazel smiles, bringing you in for a hug, "long time no see, wait.. pj, josie, you never come to the fair?"

You point over at isabel and brittany standing a few feet away, where they had been gawking at them for the past 5 minutes.

"Ah, I see," She nods, I haven't seen you In ages I've missed you."

"Yeah.. me too," you blush, looking down at your shoes.

"Oh shit what happened to josies arm?"

"Masterbating."

"What, is her vagina made out of concrete or something?"

"No what? Hazel, she fell out of her bunk," pj scoffs.

"Can everyone please stop talking about my vagina?" Josie interjects.

"Soo hazel, what's this I hear about you volunteering at a slop farm?" Pj questions.

"The national meat association? Yeah it was good," hazel replies, "so did you guys get up to anything crazy over summer?"

"Yeah we killed this girl at camp for snitching on josie, got arrested, taken to Juvie and spent the rest of summer there, nearly died but they let us go when we told them that we're dykes and called them homophobic," pj explains sarcastically.

"What?! Are you guys okay?"

Josie facepalms.

You were about to explain that pj was being sarcastic when you hear cheering and you all look over to see Jeff appearing with the rest of the football team.

You all exchange disgusted looks and then pj notices that isabel and brittany are walking in your direction.

She snatches your corndog out of your hand and hands it to josie and then takes hazels cotton candy and hands her a wad full of tickets. Her and josie anxiously keep swapping the corndog and cotton candy mumbling to eachother until isabel and brittany are standing right infront of you all.

Josie drops her corndog, well actually YOUR corndog and kicks it away in hopes of isabel not noticing but both isabel and brittany look down and watch her do it, then look back up at her and raise their eyebrows.

"Hey can I uh, get my cotton candy back?" Hazel asks as she reaches forwards towards pj to grab it, but instead is hit in the head with it by pj who just ignores her and takes a bite out of it.

You look at hazel and shrug your shoulders, jerking your head to turn her attention back to the disaster of a conversation going on between the four of them.

"Oh hey, didn't see you there," brittany says to you poking her head round to look at you, "how's your summer been?"

"Yeah it's been good," you reply, "looking forward to cheering again though I've really missed it, what about you guys?"

"Yeah, I've been practicing all summer I'm really looking forward to getting back into it!" Isabel smiles, stepping forward.

The conversation goes on for a painful amount of time, every second making you want to gouge your eyeball out with a fork as you just make ridiculous faces at hazel, who just looks back at you the same way before giggling.

You went to follow pj and josie out to josies car when hazel quickly follows, "I can drive you home if you want, your on the way and I doubt you want to listen to another second of them babbling on about isabel and brittany."

"Yeah that would actually be great, thank you."

"No trouble at all," She says, "plus, it's an excuse to speak to you, we haven't had much of a chance to talk tonight."

She pulls out her car keys and unlocks her car, of course its a range rover. Her mom gave it to her as a pity gift when her dad left which obviously didn't fix the issue but hazel didn't complain and just accepted the car, even though she wasn't old enough to drive at the time, which her mom forgot because she barely pays any attention to her own daughter.

The drive is only 5 minutes long, since you live so close, so you don't get long to chat, but she tells you all about the meat association and the cool tshirt she got to wear, even showing you a photo when she pulls up on your driveway.

You lean over and give her a hug, "see you at school tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," She grins, "meet me outside to walk in together?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Once you had kicked off your shoes and lazily removed your makeup, you got changed and plopped onto your bed.

Tonight was so chaotic yet for some reason you weren't thinking about pj and josies funny attempt at flirting or how they had made complete asses out of themselves, only about the drive home with hazel, how her hair blew in the wind, framing her face perfectly, how her hand gripped the steering wheel as she reversed out of the parking lot and how her eyes practically lit up when she was talking to you about her voluntary work over the summer.

You try to sleep but instead you lay awake for hours staring at your ceiling thinking about it. You simply cannot get her out of your head.

Huh. Maybe, just maybe, you did like hazel callahan? No. Surely not. Unless...

[queenie-official]

Chapter Thirteen: ‘One Thousand Apologies’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

a/n: this chapter is a pretty short one solely because it leads directly into the next chapter and if i where to combine them it’d 100% would of been way to long😭😭 anyways hope you huns enjoy Xx<3💋

apologizing to Anakin was one thing. it was easy especially after you’d both opened your hearts to one another, apologizing to Padme however was going to be a completely different thing. everything was going smooth thus far since Anakin’s confession that morning, but you were nervous. you knew Padme and you knew she’d forgive you but you had this overwhelming guilt. it was eating you alive as you waited for her to arrive for the day. you twist the ring on your finger becoming lost in your thoughts as you await her arrival. not even entirely sure of what you were going to say or how to start your apology.

as soon as she enters the tea room you’re on your feet. she freezes for a moment processing the fact that your actually acknowledging her existence before carefully continuing in, closing the doors behind her. there’s an awkward silence as you both stare at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. you almost wished you could just pretend as if everything was normal and although you knew if you did do that she’d go along with it, you also knew she deserved better.

she was your best friend and the distance you wedged between the two of you albeit one sided- needed to be addressed. you clear your throat and gesture to the chair beside you wordlessly asking her to take a seat, she takes the offer. silently walking over to you and sitting down, you pull another seat directly in front of her to join her. still you both remain silent for a moment as you struggle to find the words, reaching forward to take her hands into yours as she had done to you days ago when trying to offer you comfort.

“Padme…” you force yourself to keep eye contact as you start to speak, wanting to show your sincerity. “i am so sorry, what i did was wrong. i should not have ignored you the way i did, it was childish-” she cuts you off before you can finish your sentence “y/n, i am not mad at you” she looks at you with nothing but pure sympathy. “i know you aren’t mad but it doesn’t excuse my behavior” she shakes her head at you “you where hurting and reacted accordingly, yes it wasn’t the best way to go about it but i understood- i understand” she squeezes your hands reassuringly.

“please let me apologize, i know you understand but you must realize you did not have to do what you did- what you’ve done. you stick beside me even as i pushed you away, you didn’t give up on me even though i would of more than understood if you had.” she gives you a gentle smile, letting out a soft chuckle “y/n you forget our friendship is not one sided, nor is it fragile. i will always be here for you the same way i know you will be for me.” you feel your eyes begin to water and just as quickly you are pulled into her arms. “thank you for the apology i appreciate it” she adds not wanting to brush off what you where trying to do. you both indulge in the hug for a moment, staying in each others embrace before pulling away and smiling.

you both can’t help but laugh. it felt nice, therapeutic almost. “i think we may have more important matters to discuss now” she says with a smile, leaning back in her chair. “like what?” you snort, shifting in your own seat to get more comfortable. “well for starters who’s responsible for finally pulling you out of your own head, who should i be thanking for giving me my friend back?” she’s smiling as she asks, giving you a look that you could only assume meant she already knew.

to be fair it’s not like there where many options for people who’d speak out to you. “You and I both know you’ve already got an idea as to who it was” she laughs, turning her head to the side and gestures silently over to a few of the castle servants. they work quickly, moving the small table to where you both where sat. setting up a small tea party for you both, one of the servants pouring you both a cup of tea adding in milk and sugar to your likings. “of course i do but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to hear you say it” you can’t help but roll your eyes, bringing your cup of tea to your lips before taking a sip. she gives you a smug smile before mirroring your actions.

“what else did you want to discuss?” you ask curiously, she hums for a short moment as she thinks to herself. “we have to address the situation publicly…” you feel your heart sink, looking down into your tea cup to stare at the liquid in order to avoid eye contact. “you don’t have to do a announcement if that’s what your worried about- there are other ways we can go about this matter y/n” you take a deep breath, looking back up at her and placing your tea down. “i don’t have to do an announcement but if feels like i should, a murder and attempted one is not something that can just be so easily looked over”

“well there are ways you could do so indirectly” she quips perking your interest in an instant. “how so?” she places her own tea down now, sitting a bit straighter before she begins. “let’s start with the council members. forget an announcement, skip straight to punishing them and let the news come out in articles as it usually would. then simply replace them, business as usual. you’re the queen, the people already know what’s happened there so there’s no real need to address them in particular.” you nod carefully taking in her advice, tapping on the table beside you with one of your fingers as you think. “that leaves us with one thing”

“addressing your fathers murder and the attempted murder on Anakin” you nod letting out a sigh, leaning your head into your palm. “i don’t feel as if you have to address it head on. write a statement about what happened to your father and have it printed and released in the papers” you purse your lips in thought “but what about the attempt on Anakin’s life?” Padme goes silently, briefly contemplating what you could do to address it while also avoiding the spotlight. “maybe not a statement with words but a gesture, something to show you and him aren’t going anywhere nor are you scared. even though you are but they don’t need to know that.”

a gesture? what could you do to act as a gesture big enough to garner everyone’s attention whilst simultaneously showing there’s nothing to fear.

Anakin sat directly beside you, Listening carefully as you and Padme explained what you’d been discussing. you’d called him in for more than just coming up with an idea- actually you’d already figured out what you wanted to do the problem was you didn’t know how to execute it without his help.

“so you need help coming up with a gesture then?” he asks curiously running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Yes-” “No-” you and Padme both speak at the same time, her turning to you in confusion when she hears you say no. you keep your attention on Anakin however as you speak “do you remember when we discussed the things you liked about your kingdom?” he blinks a few times processing your words as he thinks back through your conversations, the gears turning in his head. you watch as he visibly lights up once he realizes what you’re hinting at “The Races?”

“Yes!” you exclaim happily now turning to Padme to see if she was beginning to see where you were going with this. she seems more curious than anything, which to be fair you didn’t have horse races in Alderaan so it made sense it hadn’t clicked for her yet. “It’s a big event that brings together a lot of people. pretty much anyone can participate as long as they have a horse to ride” Anakin begins to explain the details behind the Tatooine tradition, happily reciting the rules and regulations.

“it’s the perfect thing that could unite the people and us, a public event for the Ton to participate in and if Anakin raced as well then it’d also serve as a way for us to show we aren’t afraid. let them know we’re with them. we could add a Ball as well, so that we can socialize and maybe give a brief statement?” you suggest the idea to the both of them, Anakin grows more excited at the mention of him being able to participate. Padme seems completely onboard as well, perking up at all the new info.

“i think this to be a wonderful idea, and in all honesty you could probably use the excitement of the whole event to sweep this under the rug. at the end of the day its up to you of course” you nod at her comment. there was a lot to think of and a lot to take care of if you wanted this to happen and for it to be successful. you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled over all of the fear and doubts. Anakin seemed to be even more excited than you, tapping his foot against the ground ready to jump up at any moment.

“well for this to work we’d better get started now, i believe we have a letter to write.” you say with a smile as you turn to Anakin.

part 14

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

this chapter was a bit short but the next chapter is going to be very long ☝️ not to mention possibly a big milestone for reader and Anakin👀 it’s either going to happen in this next chapter or the one after 💪 but anyways love you all and i hope you love reader and Padmes friendship as much as me💋💋 oh and one more thing, i hope you guys haven’t forgotten about Barclay 🌝

[topguncortez]

Bad Medicine | Chapter 5

previous part | Masterlist | Next Part

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good.MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

word count: 4.8k

WARNINGS: drugs, guns, stripping, violence, abuse, fighting, prostitution, blood, alcohol usage, mentions of sexual assault, torture, death, cops, stalking, description of gruesome injuries.

Dante Soto was a fearless leader. The gang he ran was ruthless, a bunch of outlaws. Dante ruled his land with an iron fist, and wasn’t one to let things slip up and get messy. That’s what Jake admired about him. Dante was the one who offered Jake a partnership, promising to expand the Seresin gun business. Except, he was never true on his word. Jake had tried countless times to get in touch with Dante, and have a civilized meeting, but finally was fed up with the Outlaw’s antics. Jake had ordered the destruction of several of the Soto stock houses, destroying drugs, and guns. Jake knew the relation that would fall on his back, but he never expected Dante to drop dead bodies, literally, on his doorstep.

“Dante is smart,” Bob said, walking into Jake’s office, a folder in his hand, “But I’m smarter,” He smirked, “He’s been hiding at his side chick’s house, she lives down in Encinitas. Mickey says he’s a hot commodity with ATF.” 

“We can’t all be super geniuses like you, Bobby,” Jake said, taking the folder from his friend. His green eyes scanned the surveillance photos that Bob had pulled, along with documents and records of where Dante had been, “Put a sight on him?” 

“Of course, I told Rooster we’d talk about it when they get back. They should be back soon,” Bob reported, “Javy said she found a dress.”

“Lovely.” Jake deadpanned, not looking up from the folder. Bob rolled his eyes and Jake looked up at him slowly, “I’m good, you can go.”

Bob sighed, “Try to be nice to her. She’s been through a lot.” 

“Just because she’s fucking damaged goods doesn’t mean I have to treat her with respect.” Jake spat, “I just want the guns to expand, and the fucking money. I could care less about marrying the Don of Italy’s fucking daughter. Thanks for the info Robert, you’re free to go.” 

Bob didn’t say anything as he walked out of the office, his head hung low. His relationship with Jake had become strained in the past couple years. He was a lot closer to Rooster out of all of them, confiding in his best friend during fights with the man he once considered a brother. Javy and Jake always pushed Bob the hardest, trying to make him tougher. Bob hated it. He hated every aspect of the life that was forced upon him. Sure the clubs, the drugs, the money and the women were a bonus. But having to take another person’s life had kept him up at night. Bob could remember the first time he had to kill someone, the imagery forever ingrained in his mind, playing over and over like a broken record every time he closed his eyes. 

Jake placed the folder on his desk, looking over the pictures, making notes on them. He scanned closely, looking at the cars, the street signs, the house markers, anything that would give away what Dante had been up to. He sighed, pushing the folder away and leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his chin as his eyes fell to the locked bottom drawer of his desk. He leaned forward, hitting a button under his desk to open the drawer. His hand pulled out the manila envelope, opening it, and pulling out the images hidden inside. 

“Sick fuck. . .” Jake whispered to himself, taking in the gruesome images of his future wife and his deceased mother-in-law. 

Jake only knew the information that everyone else in the mafia world knew about Francisco Solano. He was the oldest boy in his family, inheriting his father’s fortune and failing empire. Francisco’s father had set it up for him to work for Rafael Santiago, and that’s how he met Y/N. When she moved to New York, he came with, telling her that he was working at one of his father’s businesses in the city. She liked having someone from home around to hang out with. Their relationship went from platonic to romantic quickly. Every picture that graced the front page of tabloids showed two loved up people. 

Everything between them was picture perfect, until it wasn’t. No one really knew the horror of what happened that night between Francisco and Y/N, but the images staring back at Jake were enough to give him an insight. 

Her clothes had been torn, hardly covering her body. Every inch of tan skin was covered in blood and bruises. Stab wounds littered her body, varying in sizes. His eyes scanned the picture of her ribs, some clearly broken, and the bright red burned letters in her skin. Jake felt sick seeing the pictures of her broken jaw and eye socket. The written description of her injuries was even worse. Jake couldn’t even finish reading the doctor's notes when he slammed the folder shut, throwing it on his desk. He ran his hands over his face, he felt like he needed therapy just reading and looking at everything. 

“Knock, knock,” A sultry voice sounded out, as the door to his office opened. 

“God, why do you hate me,” Jake whispered, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He looked over at the entry, as Isabella walked in. The dress she wore left little to the imagination, showing off her legs. The deep V cut showed off almost too much cleavage as she moved over to the desk, standing in front of it.

“Where have you been, daddy? I miss you,” Isabella said in a silky sweet voice that usually turned Jake on, but right now it made him want to vomit. 

“I didn’t miss you,” Jake responded. 

“Don’t be like that,” Isabella purred, moving over to him, “Let me make you feel better. Bobby said you looked stressed.” 

“Don’t call him that.” Jake said back to her, and put his hand on her throat. She smirked at him, biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together. Jake could hear the slam of a car door and he smirked, “Go wait upstairs. Main bedroom, I’ll be there soon.” 

“Any other requests?” 

“Naked. On all fours, ass up.”

Isabella nodded and Jake let her go. She quickly ran out the door, disappearing into the main bedroom as the front door opened. Rooster held the black and white dress bag, as Javy led them through the door. Reuben and Y/N were in a discussion about what type of flowers she should order. Bob walked into the foyer, greeting them with some file in his hand.

“Hey! How was it? When do we get to see the dress?” Bob asked, walking up to give Y/N a hug. 

“On the wedding day,” Y/N answered, hugging him briefly. 

“That’s not fair. They all gotta see it!” 

“Should’ve come with,” Rooster shrugged and Bob squinted his eyes at him. Y/N shook her head at their interaction and placed a hand on Rooster’s shoulder. 

“I’ll go run this up to my room. What else do I have to do today?” Y/N asked them. 

“I think we were going to start talking about some of the clubs. We’ve got a club on Broadway that could use some serious female touch.” Bob said, “We’ll send someone up to come get you.” 

Y/N nodded, taking the dress bag from Rooster and heading up. When she got to the hallway, she noticed the door to her room slightly open. She slowly and cautiously walked down to the door, and peered inside. Her face turned red at the sight of a naked girl waiting on her bed, probably waiting for her future husband to arrive. Y/N pushed the door open more, letting it bang against the wall as it did. 

“You’re- Who the hell are you?” The girl spoke up, looking over her shoulder. 

“Y/N Santiago. Who the hell are you?” 

“None of your concern. The other rooms are on the third floor. This one is being used.” The girl smirked at her. Y/N scoffed and threw the dress bag down on the floor, before turning on her heel and storming down to Jake’s office. She knew better than to just barge into people’s offices, but the anger in her body had her going to blind to the rules that were ingrained in her body. 

“I just want the bare minimum done to the club-” 

“Why is there some whore on my bed!?” Y/N yelled as she interrupted whatever conversation Jake and Bob were in. Jake’s face contorted in anger at the outburst as he pushed himself up from his chair. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are just barging into my office like that?” Jake demanded. 

“Your future fucking wife. Now, explain the goddamn whore in my room!” 

“Oh,” Jake smiled, “I see you’ve met Isabella.” Bob looked between the two angry people. The tension thick enough to be cut with a butter knife, “Robert, give her the rundown of the club. I got something to take care of.”

Jake walked out from behind his desk, shamelessly fixing himself as he walked over to Y/N. She hated to admit that he looked good in his all black get-up, his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Y/N could see a cross tattoo on his forearm. He grabbed her arm and lowered his head, his lips grazing over the shell of her ear. She felt goosebumps rise on her body from the heat of his breath fanning over her neck.

“Let’s get a couple things straight here, doll,” Jake whispered, “I can fuck who I want, where I want, and when I want. And you’re not my future wife. You’re just some whore I got in a deal.” Y/N looked up at him, anger in her eyes. Jake smirked and bit his lip, “I heard you used to dance. . . that might be the one thing you’ll be useful for.” 

Jake placed a kiss on her cheek, and let her go, walking out the door and going upstairs to Isabella. Y/N stood frozen, looking down at the ground. She tried her best to not let Jake’s words affect her, but she couldn’t help it. She hated comparing the two of them, but in this moment she would take a day with Francisco over this interaction with Jake. 

“Y/N. . . “ Bob said softly, noticing the silent tears falling down her face. 

“No,” She responded, wiping her tears, “Show me these club plans.” 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

Bob had left a while ago to talk with the rest of the guys about solidifying the overseas gun trades. Y/N hadn’t really paying much attention when he told her, and she hadn’t realized how much time had passed until he walked back into the office. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, watching as Bob walked into the office. Her eyes fell back to the laptop she had been staring at, holding her fingers over the keyboard, unmoving.

“I think it’s time for bed Y/n, you’re falling asleep looking at-” He moved around the desk looking over her shoulder to see what she was staring at, “-upholstery?”

“I’m fine, Bob,” Y/N said, trying to shake him off. She didn’t know where she was going to sleep anyway. She was guessing that Jake had done his business with Isabella in her bedroom, and she didn’t dare to go in there. 

“Don’t stay up all night,” Bob said and Y/N nodded, whispering good night under her breath. 

Her eyes were straining as she watched the screen, not really paying attention to the different colors of leather that were being displayed. She was fighting off sleep, feeling her body getting heavier and heavier. She sighed, closing her laptop, and pushing away from the desk. 

The house was quiet and dark except for the soft lighting from the hallway lights. She didn’t even bother going upstairs to her room, instead she walked to the couch, pulling out a blanket from the chest. Y/N let out a sigh as she laid down on the couch and covered herself up. She rolled her eyes as she looked at the giant portrait of her future husband hanging above the fireplace. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was a narcissist with the amount of pictures of himself he had everywhere. Y/N turned on her side, looking out over the pool and seeing the distant lights of the city, slowly drifting to sleep. 

Jake woke up to the sound of what he assumed was the office door closing. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked over at the clock sitting on his bedside table. He assumed it was probably Bob finally going to bed. Jake sighed as he tried to fall back asleep, staring at the ceiling for a few moments, before giving up and sliding out from under the covers. His eyes were barely open as he walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen, but the slightest movement caught his eye. 

His lips twitched into a slight frown at the sight of Y/N trying to be comfortable on the couch. He knew that the couch was the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Quietly, he moved over to the couch and picked her up in his arms. She stirred in his arms a bit, curling her body towards the warmth of his. The walk back to his bedroom was quiet, the only sound his ears registered was that of her steady breathing. He gently pushed his bedroom door open and ambled to the side of his bed. Jake gently laid her down in the spot he was once in, and pulled the covers up her body. 

He couldn’t help the warm feeling that filled his body as he watched her nuzzle herself into the warmth of his pillow. The slightest of sighs left tumbled from her lips as she breathed in the scent of his sheets. Jake caressed her hair lightly, before placing a kiss on her forehead.

Jake left the room as quietly as he could, walking to the floor below and opening the door to the master bedroom. He was barely conscious as he walked to the edge of the bed, pulling back the covers just enough to slide beneath them before letting his exhaustion take hold of him. 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

“You awake Y/N? Breakfast is almost ready, and we’ve got shit to do today.” Bob knocked softly on the bedroom door. His soft tone was telling, where he was usually fairly monotone when speaking about business, Bob’s tone changed depending on who he was talking to. When he spoke to Jake it was usually firm, and strong, not a hint of fear in his voice. But, with Y/N, he was soft, calm. 

Jake groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in the main bedroom, it was probably before Natasha’s ordeal. He pulled the blankets back and trudged over to the door. Bob jumped back a bit as the door swung open and Jake was on the other side. He leaned in slightly, seeing if he could see Y/N’s body on the other side. 

“Why-“ Bob began to ask, quickly being cut off when Jake moved past him, walking towards the stairs. 

“She fell asleep on the couch because she didn’t want to sleep in that room.”

“Okay, and?” Bob said, following Jake. 

“I took her to my room, figured I’d just sleep in the master bedroom.” Jake said with a shrug as they made it to the top of the staircase.

“Go eat, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Jake said, waving off his friend before turning on his heel and walking to his bedroom. He slowly opened the door, peering in to see the curtains still shut, the darkness remaining in contrast with the light that had overtaken the rest of the house. 

Y/N was still asleep, curled up further into his bedsheets with her head almost entirely beneath the blankets. He hated that he felt a flutter of feeling in his heart at the sight of her sleeping frame. She looked peaceful as she slept, but the angry red scar on her face stuck out. Jake sighed as he brushed a hand over her face, his knuckles lightly touching the scar. Every scar had a story and her’s was certainly one that no one would ever want to know. He moved quietly towards his closet, pulling a pair of dress pants on and pulling a button up shirt over his arms and walking back out. 

The other boys noted Jake’s entrance to the dining room, Rooster giving him a curt nod before moving his attention back to the food on his plate. One of the maids handed Jake his iPad so he could check the morning sales, and Emile set down a single cup of black coffee in front of him. 

“Should I wake Y/N? We’ve got shit to do today.” Rooster asked. 

“It’s fine, let her sleep. You can show me what she came up with after breakfast.”

The four of them ate, small talk cutting up the silence. Once they were all finished, they stood from the table, heading for the door. Jake stopped and waited for the guys to get a few steps out of the room before turning to Emile, “Could you have a plate sent up to my room?”

“Miss Y/N coming down for breakfast?” Emile asked him softly. 

“No, she had a long day. I think the jetlag and all is catching up to her,” Jake said and Emile nodded. 

“You’re taking good care of her?”

“I try,” Jake sighed, “She’s a pain in the ass.” 

“So are you,” Emile laughed, “Karma for your teenage years.” 

Jake smiled at the older woman. Emile was hired when Jake was first born by his parents. At times, she felt more like their mother than their own mother was. Emile had seen the good, bad and the ugly of working for a crime family. She had also picked Jake up off the ground when he had fallen. She saw the good in his soul, no matter what he did. Emile was the soul who was too kind for the world she was involved in. 

“I wasn’t that bad. You have to admit, Sam was worse,” Jake joked, mentioning his older sister. Emile smiled and kissed his cheek, before gathering a plate and taking it upstairs to Y/N. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, and she immediately sat up in the king sized bed. Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, looking around at the clothing that was haphazardly thrown around. She wasn’t sure how she got there, or even who’s bedroom it was, but she could guess by the red suit coat that was thrown over a chair, the room belonged to Jake. She pushed back the blankets, noticing the plain black t-shirt she was wearing and looked around for her own clothing. 

“Miss Y/N? Are you awake?” Emile’s voice sounded out from the otherside of the door. 

“Y-yeah, come in,” Y/N answered. Emile opened the door, her smile lighting up the room, a tray of food in her hands, “Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything-” 

“Mr. Jacob asked me to,” Emile said, setting the tray in front of her, “Mind if I tidy up a bit? I love the boy, but cleanliness is not his first name.” 

“Neither is respect,” Y/N mumbled as she picked up a piece of toast, “Go ahead.” 

Emile nodded, and walked over to the windows, pulling back the heavy black curtains to allow the sun to shine through. Y/N blinked at the bright light, as she picked around her plate of food. She sat in bed, scrolling on her phone as Emile cleaned up the room. Once she was done, she gave Y/N a small nod, taking the finished tray of food with her. Y/N pushed herself out of bed, and into the bathroom to shower. She stepped into the hot water and let it hit her muscles, leaving red marks behind. 

Jake whistled as he walked up to his room, and paused, hearing the water running. He walked in, noticing the clean room, and a single black t-shirt laying on the floor. He walked into the bathroom, and smirked, seeing her naked from behind the steamed up glass door. He could faintly see white scars on her back and he added just another reason as to why Francisco Solano needs to die. Jake leaned against the bathroom door and crossed his arms over his chest. Y/N could feel his eyes on her without having to turn around and look at him. 

“Who said you can shower in here?” Jake asked. Y/N could practically hear his smirk. She rolled her eyes, and turned so he could see her naked frontside. 

“Myself,” Y/N responded, grabbing the washcloth and squeezing it, letting soap run down her breasts, “Got a problem there, sir?” 

“Hurry up,” Jake clenched his jaw, trying to think of anything but how good her tits looked, “You gotta go to the club, handle some shit with Javy.”

Y/N nodded as Jake left her alone to finish her shower. He sat on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, for another ten minutes before Y/N came strolling out of his bathroom. His eyes glanced up for a second, and did a double take. Y/N shamelessly walked towards the door, as bare as the day she was born. 

“Whoa, where the fuck are you going?” He asked, standing from his bed and grabbing the towel from the floor. 

“To my room…” She said, glancing back at him, confused.

“Butt ass naked, I don’t think so. I don’t need everyone in this house seeing my soon to be wife naked.”

“Again.” She stated plainly.

“Again…” Jake repeated, drawing out the word as he tossed the towel over her shoulders. She grunted and wrapped it around her body. 

“Since when was I soon to be wife? I thought I was just some whore you got in a deal.”

“Don’t get smug, you’re still a whore I got in a deal, you just so happen to also be my fiance.”

“How did I get so lucky?” 

“Bite me, princess,” Jake smiled at her, before walking out of the room and leaving her alone. 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

The club was tucked into the busy street that was Broadway in San Diego. It wasn’t flashy, and didn’t stick out like others, and that’s what caught people's attention. During the day, it wasn’t anything spectacular, but a two story building, next to a dingy alleyway. Jake had stayed back at the house while Javy, Rooster and Reuben accompanied Y/N to see the place she’d be hopefully saving. 

“Welcome,” Javy said, pushing open the backdoor. The stale scent of alcohol and blood hit her nose, “Yeah, I know, it kinda smells.” 

“Kinda?” Reuben asked and Y/N giggled, “Why not just tear it down and start over?” 

“That’s what she’s here for,” Javy shrugged pointing at Y/N. 

At first the club wasn’t much, the first floor was a giant dance floor, two gold dance poles near the front by the dj stand, and a decent bar tucked in by the front. Y/N glanced over the selections of alcohol they had, most of it being fruit flavored seltzers and vodkas. She took note of how much glassware they had, and what their average stock of alcohol was behind the bar. She also took note of the furniture that was on the bottom level; the dingy looking leather couches that looked like they needed to burn in a biohazard fire. 

“It’s not horrible. . . The couches gotta go,” Y/N said. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t touch those things with a ten foot pole,” Rooster added and walked over to the bar. 

“Oh the boys are here!” The sounding of a shrill voice sent a chill down Y/N’s spine. She had recognized the voice from her interaction in her bedroom yesterday. Javy rolled his eyes as Isabella strolled through the abandoned club, “So nice to see you and the uh. . . her.” 

“Isabella, play nice,” Javy said, “This is Y/N Santiago, Jake’s soon to be wife.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Isabella said, looking Y/N up and down. The girl felt like she was under a microscope and stepped closer to Reuben, for some kind of confidence and shelter, “Her? This is the Mafia queen he hasn’t shut up about?” 

“I’m standing right here,” Y/N spoke up. 

“I don’t care,” Isabella said, glancing at her and then back at Javy, “She know his cock was buried inside me yesterday?” 

“And yet I’m still the one marrying him…” Y/N murmured.

“Okay, how about I go show you the private rooms in the back?” Rooster interjected, trying to steer the conversation away. 

“Oh! Jake and I’s favorite!” Isabella added, taking a step forward. 

“No, you stay here. Y/N and I will go check out the back,” Javy said, grabbing her and making her stand still in her spot. 

Rooster placed his hand on the small of Y/N’s back, leading her to the back, where they had about ten private rooms at. Y/N glanced at them quickly, not daring to step foot in them. She knew what these rooms were used for, they looked similar to the private rooms back in New York. 

“How often do these get cleaned?” Y/N scowled. 

“You really don’t wanna know…” Rooster said as they made their way down the long hallway. “These four on the end get cleaned most often… they’re uh…”

“The Seresin posse’s own private rooms?” She asked, opening the door to one of the last ones and peaking in, “Let me guess, this belongs to my future husband?” 

“Did the giant picture of himself give it away or. . .” Rooster said, pointing to the large portrait of Jake above the bed, “He’s kind of cocky about placing pictures of himself everywhere. I’m not sure why either, I heard his dick is small.” 

“Clearly,” She scoffed, “Anyone who has the nickname ‘Hangman’ must be lying about something,” before turning to Bradley with a smirk on her face, “What about you, hm? Rooster. . . must mean something, right?” Y/N tilted her head a bit, looking the mustached man up and down. Rooster licked his lips, plastering a cocky smirk on his face. 

“Mama, I would break you,” He said, nearly growling as his voice dropped into a lower octave. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Y/N asked, taking a long step towards him. Rooster gently lifted her chin with his knuckle, making her look up at him. He was a bit taller than Jake was, and Y/N could tell that he was a bit thicker than him. Y/N watched as Rooster leaned in closer, and closed her eyes. Her senses were overrun by the scent of his Armani cologne, and the feeling of his hand on her cheek. His lips brushed against hers for a split second, before he pulled back. 

“A hypothetical, sweetheart,” Rooster said and Y/N nearly whined at the loss of his touch, “I’m not risking my life to fuck you, as much as I’d like to. Now come on, there’s a whole second floor to look at.” 

Y/N sighed, and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her, but not before secretly flipping off the portrait. The two of them walked back down the hallway, back to the main part of the club, and she froze. Reuben’s eyes were looking at her, as Isabella was basically pressing her breasts in his face. Javy looked less than amused at the whole situation. Rooster looked between the two men and the girl who was practically fuming in her spot. 

“Don’t-” 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Y/N yelled and stormed over to them. 

“What?” Isabella said innocently, “You get one, sweetheart, not all of them. Besides, I like them a little bit beefier.” She giggled as she ran her hand up Payback’s bicep.

“Quit fucking touching him,” Y/N snatched Isabella’s wrist, holding it in a tight grip. 

“Ow, fuck, daddy teach you how to do that one?” Isabella asked. 

“Daddy taught me nothing, but I’ve done a whole lot more for so much less.”

Isabella huffed and tried to pull her wrist away, but Y/N tightened her grip, “You’re just another hang around whore for him. He’ll dump you sooner or later, doll.” 

“Oh I fucking wish, but sadly, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Y/N spat, “Stay the fuck away from them.” 

She let go of Isabella's wrist, and the girl immediately brought it to her other hand, rubbing the red mark left by Y/N’s grip.

“That wasn’t a request, get the fuck out.” Y/N said, nodding towards the door.

@cherrycola27 @seresinsbabe @violyn20 @materialgirl01 @bradleybeachbabe @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-spork @topnerd03 @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @bioodforbiood @topguncultleader @ma-fraise @abaker74 @double-j @cm27078 @thedroneranger @khaylin27 @mak-32 @unhinged-btch @wittywhispers @theliterarybeldam @bloosomjoon @chxcxlate-cxxkies @luckyladycreator2 @wellshit6 @harper1666 @phoenix1388 @footprintsinthesxnd @dempy @emma8895eb @bonitanightmxres @love2write2626 @bobbyonboard @some-lovely-day @thenewdaysalreadyhere @cassiemitchellslibrary @ilymoonie @morgensternsblog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rintheemolion @tallrock35 @adoringsebstan @xoxabs88xox

TAG LIST IS FULL DO NOT ASK TO BE TAGGED

[macawritesupdates]

Writing Update 9/19/2024

Been a while since I did an update! Last week I was on jury duty and it MURDERED my writing time as I had to change up my day and it took longer to get home (mentally draining....)

Been back at work this week, but still has been draining, so less time to get things done, but trying to get back into the flow of things! Hopefully more updates to show soon!

REQUESTS

I will get back to those as soon as I clear up some other fics. Just got a lot of long fics (12 in total) and one-shots (like ...5 in total?) that I'm writing and want to finish!

READER INTERACTION FICS

Can't Help a Cuddle: It has 5k words in and that is just the spicy scene it is going to open up with lol It is going to end up being a long chapter as it introduces more plot and the like going forward! Hopefully will be updating soon!

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend: Also have it outlined and making good progress on writing it out so it should come out the same time or before Cuddle. Got some spice as always!

LONG FANFICS JJK

Broken in the Ways No One Sees: Going to speed run write out the last three chapters to the story as it one the poll for which one to finish first! I'll post chapters as I finish <3

When you Get Two Grandsons: Next chapter is coming and I'll be overhauling the tags to reflect the new developments! This story is remaining sweet and family feel wholesome!

Spouse Wanted: Experience not Necessary: the new chapter is NEARLY done and may be out tonight depending on how I finish up this last scene hehe! If not tonight, then going to be up tomorrow!

Lessons in Accidental Seduction: Eagerly writing out the next chapter! I'm excited for this one as it has nice character development and Sukuna really starting to work things out and he and Yuuji getting closer again <3

Malevolence of Love: Wanted to finish his fix before the 30th, but don't see that happening due to writing delays ; w ; BUT the next chapter is coming out and I know it is an anticipated one! Hoping it won't take long...

Who's a Good Boy: New chapter is in the works but not the priority fic at the moment!

The Yuuji Files: I am hoping a new update will happen SOON as I work through the scenes in this one. It is going to be a meaty chapter though as it has a lot of little plots going on in the B-plot area.

Careful What you Joke About: Also working on the next chapter now that the rewrites have been completed for the outline <3 I hope I haven't kept anyone waiting too long!

Mirrored Lives: Still need to rework and rewrite the outline and plot and get it to a point I'm more satisfied with.

LONG FICS MHA

What Sacrifices Heroes make that go Unsung: I WANT TO WRITE THE NEXT THREE CHAPTERS SO BAD AHHHH! I am going to push to make time to work on this one as ugh! I love it in my HEART so much and want to share ; w ;

A Rut Time of It: It is on the backburner as I get other fix worked out and finished up!

ONE-SHOTS IN PROGRESS

Pull Me Along if I Can’t Move Forward: Izuku/Bakugo sweet fic that is still in slow slow progress. Going to see if I can't finish it up soon!

Heatwaves and Curses Don't Mix: A pwp fic of Nobara/Yuuji/Sukuna with true-form Sukuna and his double dongs. Just pure smut for the heck of it that is slowly coming together

Playing House: Sukuita fic where Sukuna makes Yuuji play house like they did when kids but takes it too far. A pwp fic idea suggested when I was in the mood and is close to being done c:

Take Me to Prom?: Sukita one shot where Yuuji blackmails his cousin Sukuna to cross dress and take him to prom as his date. Shenanigans ensue

Once Upon a Blob: Sukuna, now Blobkuna, has a plan to get his body back and it involves the old fairy tale cliche of love's true kiss. Chaos ensures.

And That's When I knew It: A silly Uraraka/Kirishima one-shot where something horribly embarrassing happens and feelings are had (and spice XD)

FUTURE FANFICS IN PROGRESS

Culturally Inappropriate: Starting to outline the fic and name the characters who are going to be with Yuuji through the Possessed Anonymous group. Letting it build its own themes and feeling good about it so far!

This is the sequel to Historically Inaccurate and keeps moving with the themes and Sukuna and Yuuji building their relationship as vessel and and cursed spirit while also their personal healing. Gonna be good hopefully!

Law Meets Disorder: (Maybe changing to Law and Disorder for the title) Still mapping out my ideas but might get to finally finishing up the outline soon!

The Dragon Story: Still more an idea with more worldbuilding done than plot. Need to find a solid plot for it....

We Wretched Few: Heian Era court drama fanfic with an ABO flair to it that I've been poking around at :b

[doyawalker]

Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind #5

chapter 4.

contains swearing, mentions of smoking, and alcohol consumption.

chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

__

Girl, I’m Just One Call Away

“So, what are you doing this weekend?”, he asked bluntly, as soon as the professor announced the end of the lecture. He hadn’t really talked with you for the rest of the class but had continued to look at you occasionally, as you had seen in your peripheral vision. Which maybe had made you a tiny bit nervous.

Taking your time to pack your things, you finally looked up to him. He was already standing, his backpack loosely hanging over his shoulder, his tattooed hand grabbing the strap. 

There was something about the way he was hovering over you, his gaze so comfortably gliding over you, that made your cheeks burn, forcing you to look away again.

“Why?”, you ask, getting up from your seat and turning towards him to walk out the row. But he wasn’t budging.

Your eyes were around the height of his collarbones and even over the fabric of his shirt, you could see the prominent contour of his muscles underneath. Your eyes wandered upwards, getting caught on his lips for just a second, before reaching his eyes. And you could’ve sworn that, for a split second,  his eyes had jumped to your lips as well.

“Can’t you just answer my questions normally and not with a new question?”, he asked teasingly, tilting his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Not if it's a question from you.” 

He chuckled slightly.

“Fine. A couple of friends of mine are throwing a party and I wanted to invite you. You can bring your friends too if you want.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

“And why would I want to go to a party where you are?” 

“Because there is gonna be unlimited free alcohol, good music, and well…me.” 

He seemed to be proud of his joke, his eyes lightening up in amusement.

“That’s not near as good an argument as you might think it is.” 

He took a step back, his free hand clutching his chest as if you had shot him, his face distorting in fake pain. Such an actor. Where was his Oscar?

“Ouch. Come on, what will it take to get you to come there? Just this one time?”, he said, leaning forward to you again.

Sighing, you shouldered your bag, looking around the almost empty room now.

“First of all, you could stop blocking my way and let me out of this classroom.”

“Only if you agree to come to the party.”

“Are you threatening me?”

He grinned knowingly, bowing down his head until your eyes were at the same level. 

Taken aback by the sudden proximity, you stared back at him wide-eyed, the scent of his perfume clouding your mind. He was so close to you, that you could very faintly feel his breath hitting your skin and you were sure if anyone would see you like this, gossip would spread quicker than a wildfire.

But your biggest concern was the effect his closeness had on your body. Your cheeks were instantly starting to burn, your eyelashes fluttering, as your heartbeat accelerated. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and your eyes naturally fell to look at them. Was he even closer now?

“Do you want me to?”

His voice made you snap out of your thoughts, looking away quickly. Fucking asshole.

You hit your hand against his broad chest, pushing him a step back, and forcefully slipping past him. 

“Fuck off.”, you mumbled, quickly making your way down the stairs toward the door.

But of course, he wouldn’t let you go so easily.

Catching up with you effortlessly, he continued to try to persuade you.

“So, you coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not a no.”

“That’s not a yes, either.”

“I think you should come.”

You shook your head, walking out into the corridor of the building. This was your only class for the day, so you were heading home now.

Finally away from him.

“And I think you’re being pretty annoying right now.”

“You’re still talking to me, so I can’t be that bad.”, he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t take it as a compliment.”

He laughed, a melodic laugh, that made something in your chest flutter. It was exactly the same laugh from before, one that you had loved so much because it was so hard to not laugh with him together. But right now, you didn’t feel like laughing. 

“Alright, alright. I’m giving you time to think about it. But I hope you’ll come.”, he finally said, pushing the exit door of the building open and holding it for you to walk through.

Refusing to thank him, you walked out into the cold October air in silence, secretly wondering if he wasn’t freezing with just his t-shirt on. 

“How generous of you.”, you commented, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. Hopefully, he was freezing.

“So, you’ll tell me your answer tomorrow morning in the gym?”, he asked, slowing down his steps.

You continued on your way but turned around to look at him again.

“You’ll see.”

And with that you walked home, leaving him behind to look after you.

Inviting Sori over to talk gossip, sort your thoughts, and maybe also drink one or two glasses of wine, it ended up almost being 11 PM, when the door to your apartment opened and Taehyung walked into the two of you sitting on the couch. 

Only at a second look did you notice that he was slightly tumbling and when he walked over to you, you immediately caught the smell of beer lingering around him. 

“Hello, Ladies.”, he announces, plopping down beside you. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing two beautiful women sitting on my couch on a Thursday evening?”

His voice was slurring a bit, his eyelids lazily hooded.

Raising an eyebrow at his comment, you scoffed, hitting him against the arm. 

“And where have you been, getting this drunk on a Thursday evening?”, you asked, pulling your legs up and against your chest.

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, you know, all the intro parties going on right now, I can’t possibly miss those.”

“And why did you come home alone?”, you teased, earning yourself a death stare. Sensitive topic it seems. 

You weren’t sure, because still, Taehyung and you were rarely talking about intimate stuff, but it seemed like he had been dumped by a girl recently. There has been this blonde, pretty girl coming over for some time and you had seen her a couple of times, but ever since a Saturday afternoon when Taehyung had been in a particularly bad mood, you hadn’t seen her again. Maybe that was the reason for him to get wasted on a Thursday. You couldn’t blame him.

“And what are you two chatting about?”, he asked, tilting his head back and leaning against the cushions of the couch. “Give me the tea.” 

Chuckling at his choice of words, Sori put down her wine glass on the side table, leaning over to him.

“Tae, we need your opinion on something.” 

She slapped your thigh lightly, throwing you a knowing look, and before you could protest, the words were already gushing out of her mouth.

“So, let’s say a guy breaks a girl’s heart, and then around two years later they meet again and he acts like nothing ever happened and like, shows clear signs of interest again. What does that mean? Explain.” 

Her voice was also slurring a bit by now and you regretted pouring her the third glass of wine. You could never trust her to shut up when she was drunk. 

“Sori, what the fuck.”, you hissed, your eyes throwing daggers in her direction. But she just laughed at you, dismissing your disapproval with a wave of her hand.

“Who is this about? You?”Taehyung asked, his finger pointed toward you.

“What does it matter?”, you snarled, growing more uncomfortable. Taehyung really didn’t need to know about your traumatic past. 

Holding his hands up in defense, he looked at you with his glossy-looking eyes.

“Okay, call me a criminal for wanting to get to know my roommate more.”

“Wait, he doesn’t know?”, Sori interfered, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“What do I not know? There’s a lot I don’t know about this girl.” 

You snorted at that, crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively. 

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you either.”

“Because you never ask.”

“Why would I ask about your private life?” 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. 

“Because that’s how you get to know people. We shit in the same goddamn toilet, of course, you can ask me things about my life.”, he said, his eyes floating back to you. “So, tell me. Who’s this ominous guy?” 

You squirmed in your seat, keeping yourself busy by fiddling with the handle of your glass, eyes focusing on the red liquid in it.

Hesitating, you couldn’t make your mind up whether you wanted to cross the established line you and Tae had silently drawn around each of your own personal lives. You enjoyed the way it was because being with him almost always took your mind off the heavy things, simply because you couldn’t talk with him about the heavy things. But maybe you just had to practice being more open. Ever since Jungkook, it had been harder for you to open up to people, as you stopped giving your trust away so easily. But Taehyung had proved himself to be a good guy, being respectful about your boundaries and not trying to force you to say or do anything. Maybe it was okay to tell him. 

And so you did. 

Avoiding his eye contact, you started to mindlessly draw circles on your upper thigh, while you began your story, slow at first but as you went on the words poured out of you, your emotions mixing with the alcohol in your bloodstream.

And as you ended your monologue with the words “and then I never saw him again until yesterday”, Taehyung’s eyes rested on you calmly, his face not giving away any hint of his thoughts. 

A moment of silence settled between the three of you and you almost started to overthink your decision, when Tae finally moved, clutching his hand in his lap, still eyeing you closely.

“Not gonna lie, he sounds like a fucking pain in the ass.” 

You chuckled at his words, Sori humming a sound of approval beside you. 

“And you met him again now? Like he is in your class or what?” 

“I met him at the gym this morning, and then yesterday and today in class. He’s doing the fucking same master’s as me.” 

“Ouch.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Taehyung’s gaze wandered to the ceiling.

“And do you still feel something for him?” 

You almost flinched at his question, immediately looking back down into your glass again. That was a question you still had to think about for yourself. 

Of course, the antipathy was strong, and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you would cave into him easily. But you also couldn’t deny the effect he still had on your body, simply due to all the shared memories you had with him. But how could he possibly ever deserve a second chance with you? There was no way, especially not after he acted so carelessly about the whole situation. So, no matter what your body was thinking, Jeon Jungkook would forever stay on your blacklist.

“No.”, you finally announced, taking a sip of your wine. It had gotten warm by now.

You acted like you didn’t see the look Taehyung and Sori exchanged at your answer, clearly not convinced, but they didn’t push you. Thankfully. 

“So, what do you think Jungkook’s plan really is? Is he just trying to get in her pants again, or-”

“Wait, did you just say Jungkook?”

Taehyung’s urgent voice interrupted your friend, his upper body suddenly straightening up. And judging by the shocked expression on his face, your heart sunk into your stomach.

“The Jungkook?” 

Taehyung’s eyes wildly flickered between you and Sori.

“Who is the Jungkook?”, Sori asked, her brows pulling together in confusion.

“Jeon Jungkook. I know him. He’s friends with some friends of mine.” 

Staring at him in disbelief, you let yourself fall back into the cushions behind you. What a great twist.

“Are those the same friends that are throwing a party this weekend?”, you asked, your voice croaking.

“Yes, Hoseok and Jin are throwing a party at their house. How do you know?” 

You sighed, fiddling with your thumbs in your lap. 

“Because he invited me to it.” 

“Oh my god, girl.”, Sori exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you towards her. “I have the perfect idea.”

You arrived at the gym at around 9 AM, and your eyes immediately caught on his black BMW that was parked across from you. Taking a deep breath in, you grabbed your bag, got out of the car, and made your way to the entrance, a slight nervous feeling spreading in your stomach. You pushed it to the side.

Walking up the stairs, you fished your member card out of your bag to enter the gym. 

It didn’t take long to spot him, after leaving your stuff in the changing room and walking around the different areas of the gym.

He was in the weight room on an incline bench, currently pushing two ridiculously huge-looking weights in the air, the outline of his muscles in his chest clearly visible through his tight shirt. 

You took a few seconds to eye him, the way his arms bulked whenever he was pressing the weight back up, his face twisted in a mix of pain and effort. He hadn’t trained this hard two years ago. 

You considered walking over to him for a split second but concluded that he would probably come up to you by himself, and to be honest you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of approaching him first. 

And so, you finally forced your eyes away from him and made your way over to the squat rack. You were hitting legs today. 

Loading up only a bit of weight on each side of the bar to warm up, you ducked under it, positioned your hands, and then took a step back to push it up and out of the rack onto your shoulder blades. 

You took a deep breath in, bracing your core, before squatting the weight down and back up. It wasn’t that hard to do with your warm-up weight. The true struggle would come later.

You did your first eight reps, and as you reached your ninth, someone entered your vision in the corner of your eye. He didn’t waste any time apparently. 

You looked up into the mirror before you and your eyes caught his. 

He had his arms crossed before his chest, his biceps flexing casually, as his gaze rested on yours, the familiar grin on his face. 

Squatting down one more time before loading the bar back onto the rack, you turned around to him, pushing your headphones down to fall around your neck.

“Hi.”, he said casually, leaning against the rack, his hair falling over his forehead. “I almost thought you wouldn’t come.” 

“You’re not relevant enough to skip a workout for.”, you said, bending down to grab your water bottle. 

Taking a sip, you watched him chuckling to himself, obviously amused by your constant banter. You weren’t kidding.

“Still in such a bad mood, I see.”, he remarked, nodding in the direction of your bar. “You need a hand with that? I could spot you.”

“No, thanks.” 

“You sure? We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of watching out for myself.”

You furrowed your brows together in annoyance, looking around to find the next weights you needed to load up the bar.

He put his hands up defensively, grinning even more widely.

“Never said you couldn’t. Then could you at least spot me? I think I need some support.”

Your eyes snapped back to him.

“I don’t see how I could be of any help with those weights you are lifting. Ask someone else around here.”, you said, waving your hand toward the small group of men that were lifting together on the other side of the room.

“Oh, come on, Y/N.” He moved closer to you, a mixture of his perfume and cigarettes hitting your nostrils. You looked up at him. “Please?” 

He smiled, this time not as smugly but more pleadingly, tipping his head to the side. 

Why was he this way? Why was he so eager to spend time with you? It didn’t make sense.

Sighing heavily, you pinched your nose, shutting your eyes close so you didn’t have to look at him.

“Fine.”, you caved. “Let me finish my second set and then I’ll come over.” Visibly happy with your answer, he gave you a thumbs-up before trotting back over to his spot somewhere behind you. You prepared yourself for your next set, bracing your core again, before squatting your first working set, the muscles in your thighs and ass already protesting. 

Struggling with your last rep, you finally came up again, racking the bar back up and taking a second to catch your breath. Your heart was hammering in your chest and the fact that you caught him looking at you as you turned around wasn’t helping much either. 

Averting your gaze quickly, you propped your hands against your hips, walking in a circle for a few moments to calm down. 

You didn’t want to walk over to him breathing like a fucking maniac.

You saw him getting up from his bench, his hands grabbing the weights from the rack before him, before sitting back down, one weight on each of his legs. 

Groaning silently to yourself in annoyance, you finally walked up to him, catching his eyes in the mirror in front of him. 

“You got a great form.”, he commented, referring to your squats.

“Thanks.”

 Unsure what to do with his compliment, you simply positioned yourself behind him, waiting for him to start his set.

“Since when are you hitting the gym?”, he continued to ask, making no indication that he had the intention to lift the weights up.

For fucks sake. He was wasting your time.

“Did you call me over to spot you or to chat with me?”, you snapped. “Because if it’s the latter, then you can do your set alone.”

There was his chuckle again, his hands finally gripping the weights harder, as he let himself fall back against the bench, using his knees to help him lift the weights into position.

“So feisty.”, he noted, completing his first rep.

You ignored him, your eyes focused on his arms and chest, trying hard not to get lost in the sight of his shirt stretching so perfectly over his muscles.

By the third rep, his arms were starting to shake slightly under the pressure, his brows pulled together with concentration. Sweat was forming on his forehead, as his lips parted to take deep breaths in. 

Fuck. He looked so attractive, it was unfair. 

He groaned quietly with the next rep and the sound made something flutter somewhere below your stomach. 

God. 

You closed your eyes for one second, pushing the thoughts out of your head. You refused to be that weak. There were many pretty sons out there in the world after all. He just happened to be one of them.

Clearly struggling with the next rep, you put your hands under his elbows, helping him push the weight up. 

“Come on.”, you said, squeezing his arms slightly in reassurance. “One more.” He scoffed, his eyes closing shut for a second to compose himself. 

“Just for you.”, he pressed out, his arms pushing the weights back up one more time, before finally letting them fall to his sides, the ground slightly shaking beneath you. 

He left you alone for most of the rest of your workout, only coming up to you a couple of times to annoy you or try to talk to you, but you successfully blocked him off most of the time. And it wasn’t until you were walking out of the changing room and he was waiting in front of the exit for you, lazily leaning against the wall, his eyes immediately falling onto your face, that he finally mentioned the party again.

“So, have you made your mind up?”, he asked, walking down the stairs beside you. “About the party.” You pushed the door that led you outside open, wrapping your arms around your upper body, amidst the freezing air hitting your face.

Leaving him hanging for a second, you bit your lower lip, your mind wandering back to yesterday evening. 

Sori’s words were still lingering in your head, her ridiculous idea still sounding somewhat crazy to you. But Taehyung had approved of it as well and so the three of you had made your plan. Now you only had to execute it. The hardest part, apparently.

You looked at him, your teeth letting go of your bottom lip and you didn’t miss the split second his eyes fell to your mouth.

“Yes. I’m coming, but I’m bringing two friends.” 

His face lit up in excitement, his eyes almost sparkling.

“Great. Wanna give me your number? I’ll text you the details.”

“No need, I already got them.”, you said, walking past his car to your own. 

He stopped in his tracks, laying one hand on the roof of his BMW.

“How?” he asked, calling after you, but you didn’t even mind giving him another glance.

“Not of your concern.”

__

[damagedintellect]

Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

💌 Would this be considered a social suicide? : Chapter 5 💌  

Summary: You knew it was dangerous to take walks at night but hearing the water rushing under the bridge was calming to your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d ever fall into the river and somehow wake up in your favorite anime. The isekai that I’m sure will come back to haunt me. It’s kept me up all night but I might as well get the brainrot out.

Notes: Reader is Isekai’d into BSD, Slow to start, Chuuya is endgame but there’s a fair bit of reader & Dazai moments too okay like a lot of Dazai moments, implied poly but not really

💌 Word count: 2,646 💌 Available Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

After many days and long periods of stress everyone celebrated the fall of the guild. You shared a few drinks with Yosano and Kunikida but noticed that Dazai was missing. He must be at the art gallery with Hirotsu you thought. Things were only going to get harder moving forward. You should tell him about your real identity soon. Your real fake identity that is. Now that the book was being mentioned you planned to use that to your advantage. The plan was to say that you’ve lived through this before but were written out of your original timeline via the page and when you woke up at the riverbank you didn’t know what to think. If he asked why you didn’t say anything sooner you could say that you thought this was purgatory. Whether or not he bought it would be a different story but you were hoping he would at least consider it to be an option. 

Unbuttoning your shirt you heard footsteps outside your door. Dazai had the room next to yours so you wonder if he was just getting back. Although they didn’t sound like his footsteps. Come to think of it, he was always really light on his feet for someone that tall. You glanced at the door once you heard your lock click. Who could have the key to your room? You pushed yourself to lay flat against the wall. You didn’t have any weapons so you hoped it was just Dazai going to the wrong room because if it's someone outside of the ADA you were screwed. The door opened and the smell of wine hit your nose. 

“Lis’en h'er asshole-”

You came out of hiding to see a very drunk Chuuya in the doorway. “Chuuya?” he closed the door and stumbled over to you confused. 

“Whatcha doi'n in Dazai’s room?” 

You watched him sway before you reached out to steady him. “You overshot by one room. Though I think you need to lay down a bit.” He leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder. “He can’t ave you. Need you on my side. He'll 'ave you lie too me” This was weird. Oh so weird. This only happened in fanfiction. You don't remember this from the show. Of course you knew that Chuuya had drunk called Dazai before but you never imagined he'd drunkenly break into his apartment.

He wrapped his hands around you and mumbled something into your neck “Smells nice.” Your neck has always been sensitive, feeling a pleasant tingling where his breath grazed your skin. Tentatively you put your arms around the redhead and stay like that for a bit, while you think about what you were supposed to do in this situation. Of course you've always wanted to give him a hug but not like this. You barely heard him slur out "We gotta be close right?" When you felt him kiss your neck. Grasping you pushed him back instantly like he weighed nothing, he didn’t try resisting you. You were so torn right now. You wanted this but at what cost. What would happen when he snapped out of it? 

“Tha was cute. Do it again.”

His face was red but his eyes were locked with yours, half lidded. You saw his eyes trail down your body and remember he caught you in the middle of changing. What are the odds he'd remember this tomorrow? You were still wearing a bra so whatever but what were you supposed to do with him?

“Let’s lay down for a bit and I’ll think about it okay. Can you take your shoes off?” He nodded, taking his coat off too as he followed you like a lost puppy to your futon. He slowly fell into it dragging you down with him. You landed on top of him with a soft thud. His hat rolled off to the corner of the room. You hoped whoever had the room below yours wasn’t back yet or was fast asleep already. You actually don’t know what time it was anymore. You tried to push yourself off but he held you in place “Don go”

“I’m not I’m just-” you weren’t able to finish your sentence before you felt the sensation of being weightless. The next thing you knew Chuuya had flipped you over so he was sprawled out on top of you preventing you from leaving. “Stay” he trailed off. You were weak to him, you already knew that. Kissing his cheek you pulled him closer wrapping your arms around him. “I’m not going anywhere.” You stayed like that until his breath evened out and eventually sleep came for you.

—

“My sleeping beauty, it's time to get up!” Dazai knocked on the door once again. You didn’t seem like the type to drink yourself silly so he wondered what’s up. Everyone had been trying to get a hold of you the next morning after the party to make sure you were okay. Ranpo suggested that Dazai be the one to check your room since your phone was going straight to voicemail. So here he was knocking on your door. He waited a bit but still didn’t get a response. He leaned back on the railing stretching his back when his eyes caught a glimpse of something red. He turned around to see a very familiar motorcycle. That’s odd, he thought. For a second he could have sworn that it was Chuuya’s. "Now why would?" His eyes snapped wide. Both Dazai and Chuuya had the habit of breaking into each other's places when they were drunk. It’s why Dazai doesn’t let himself get wasted anymore. He banged on your door again before shouting “I’m coming in!” He swiftly picked the lock and burst through the door. 

In your sleep you heard knocking that slowly stirred you awake. You tried to get up but you forgot Chuuya fell asleep on top of you and you headbutted the other causing them to wake with a start. “Fuck!” you both stare at each other stunned when Dazai forced the door open. Dazai looked to Chuuya and back to you and Chuuya did the same. The scene in front of Dazai was extremely out of context. From the doorway it must look like Chuuya was undressing your helpless form with the way you were both sprawled out on the futon. You covered your face and groaned as Dazai stormed over to pry Chuuya off of you. You stayed still as the yelling match started above you. Watching them for a bit you had no idea how you ended up in this situation. They were physically in each other's faces, Chuuya’s was red and Dazai’s eyes looked like they could kill. You wondered why. You couldn't tell if it was just based on the principle alone or if Dazai was jealous or what. Dazai is a fucken enigma.

You sat up rubbing your face. “Okay that’s it everyone shut the fuck up and sit your asses down!” 

They both stopped what they were doing and slowly sat down. Glaring at each other. “Why is he here?” Dazai scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Technically he was looking for you, but we also have a very interesting relationship." You were trying to calm your nerves by fixing your bedhead. Chuuya became very rigid at your comment. You guessed you could have worded it better too but they were giving you a headache.

Dazai looked down at your exposed upper half and then back to your eyes. You still didn't get the chance to button up your shirt. It doesn't matter to you, they're freakin adults. If they can't stomach seeing a bra or two you'd be surprised since knowing that in their pasts with the mafia they've seen much worse. 

"Chuuya came over drunk and thought this was your room. I made him stay the night because he couldn’t even walk by the time he got through my door.” you paused seeing them both stare at you buttoning your shirt. For some reason you were more flustered at them watching you cover up than being exposed. Chuuya was avoiding eye contact but you could tell he was glancing at your chest. He was probably wondering if he undressed you. You wonder what Dazai must think. Nothing good presumably god what a mess. "Got it?" You finished matter of factly trying to seem uninterested. On the inside was a different story. This scenario was like a self-indulgent fanfic. You were screaming. You don't know If this is what you've always dreamed of or if this was a nightmare.

Dazai’s serious expression morphed into something less hostile and more mischievous. "Wow, who knew the chibi could be so forward and with the enemy no less." Dazai chided even though the PM and the ADA were both currently in a truce for the time being. Dazai put a hand up to prevent Chuuya from seeing his mouth but made no effort to change the volume he was speaking at. "(Y/N) do you need me to get you a morning after pill? We don't want the slug to reproduce now do we?"

You and Chuuya made the same horrified expression at Dazai’s words. Both of you were red while Dazai reveled in your torment. 

"You bastard, it's not even like that!" Chuuya grabbed him by the collar of his shirt but Dazai frowned for a second before replacing it with a shit eating grin. "Oh I get it so you guys want it to be like that.~" He smiled darkly at both of you yelling at the same time.

"I'm not discussing my sex life with you Dazai!"

"Shut up I'm not discussing my sex life with you asshole!"

You and Chuuya redirected your attention to each other. Both of you were starting to mirror the same shade of red. Dazai laughed "You guys are even speaking at the same time. Talk about two becoming one." Chuuya glared back at him, starting to shake trying to hold back his anger.

You groaned "Please stop. You might be immune to Chuuya’s ability but I'd like to point out that my room and I are susceptible to damage." You wacked Dazai’s shoulder "I know I don't have to explain because you're smart enough to figure it out but you're acting like a child. I thought you've grown past this."

Dazai smirked again "At least some of us have grown-" this time Chuuya punched his arm. He stood up and grabbed his coat and discarded hat, growling "I can't stand him when he's like this. Tell me if you know anything new." Chuuya slipped his shoes on and paced out of the door. You flopped back down on the futon to stretch. "Geez I don't understand how Mori tolerated you two let alone Hirotsu." After you stretched you started getting ready for real. Dazai being quiet is always a scary thing. You could feel his stare burning through your skull. "Out with it. I've been meaning to talk to you anyways."

"You know then, if Chuuya is human."

"I do but I haven't told him yet. Currently I'm leading him on because he misunderstands how my "ability" works," you used air quotes "well lack thereof. It's probably for the best to have the mafia think I have some weird foresight. Since I'm giftless here." You stare at Dazai but he's unfazed. "I didn't want to lie to you but I didn't know what to do. I know things I'm not supposed to. I haven't been that secretive about it but I also didn’t have the time to explain myself either." You turned to look him in the eyes “I’m not from this timeline and the problem is I don’t know how much I can say without causing some anomaly. That's mostly why I don't know If I should tell Chuuya. I’m sure you’re familiar with the book Francis was after. A group called The decay of angle’s got a hold of a page and supposedly wrote me out of existence? My memory leading up to why they went so far to get rid of me is hazy but then I woke up in the past. You were there for the rest.”

Dazai sighed looking at the ceiling “That is strange. It is possible that since they wrote you out of existence it forced you out of your reality and into another, presumably one that lined up with a similar universe where you were about to die. That would explain the manner we found you in as well." Dazai sighed "This ruins my original running theory about you.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. The rats already started making their move and now he'd have to worry about the DOA, just great. "This isn't good. Knowing that the decay of angle’s got their hands on a page in a different timeline isn't reassuring for our reality."

“I’ve been trying to keep everything as close to the other reality as I can to avoid butterfly effects but my personal existence is drastically different from my timeline so I don't think it matters. You’re the only one I’ve told for obvious reasons.” you stood up offering him a hand. "Although now that you know, do you mind if I gave you a hug?"

He looked at you quizzically "I don't mind but can I ask why?"

You pulled him close standing on your tippy toes to reach. "I never got the chance to tell "my" Dazai how much I've always loved and appreciated his existence. We may not have the same relationship as my reality but presumably you still had the same experiences." You cupped his face to pull him down enough to kiss his forehead. "Knowing that, it probably sucked worse without me there." You ruffled his hair as you finally let go giving him some space. You hoped that was good enough to spark something. You couldn't help yourself.

Dazai had been tense the whole exchange. His face formed an expression you haven't seen. He was genuinely in awe at your words. Even when you were finished showing him affection he seemed too shocked to process everything. He was too bewildered at the sentiment. The way it made him feel uncomfortable but warm, was he dying? Jokes aside, your words are what struck a nerve. What were you to him? Was this why when he saw Chuuya pinning you to the floor he felt, you know Dazai didn't actually know what he felt. He didn't understand it or maybe he just didn't want to. 

"What were we in your timeline." It came out as more of a demand than a question. 

"We never put a label on it, I don't think you were capable of that at the time and especially not after your defection. You gave me an out too but someone had to stay with Chuuya. I didn't want him to lose both of us at the same time." You really pray this doesn't come back to bite you in the ass. You have to believe your lie with every fiber of your being because the moment Dazai realizes it's a farce you're fucken done. You didn't think you were that manipulative of a person but here you are. All for the sake of your comfort characters. Maybe you did belong in the port mafia.

Dazai didn't pry anymore. The others were probably wondering where you two were anyhow. Kunikida probably thought Dazai was skipping work. On the way there he looked lost in thought of course you couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in and a complete lie. You might be playing God a little too much now but you got to hold both of your boys so if you are to die, you can die happy.

<= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

[ash-is-dying]

Mr Perfectly Fine: Chap 4

A/N: Smashed this one out. A bit shorter but just as good I swear. Heavily focused on Eddie's pov this time around. I promise he's getting better with a bit of help from his life coach A.K.A Wayne Munson. Enjoy!

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Chapter 4: Mr. I’ve Been Waiting For You All My Life

---

He fucked up.

He would never admit it in a million years, but he knew he had fucked up.

You hadn’t been around in a week. Even on his days off Eddie would come back and hear the others complaining that you hadn’t been in at your usual time. It was doing his head in and his pride wouldn’t let him tell them that it was most likely his fault.

Okay, maybe definitely his fault.

But it was a good thing. No dumb orders with a bunch of substitutions and additives, no analyzing eyes watching over him, no yelling or arguing or anger at all. So it was a good thing. Right?

But if it was so good why didn’t things feel right? He felt himself wondering why he was so off, he’d only known you for a few weeks and every interaction crawled under his skin and made it boil. He was happy to be rid of you. You were too familiar. Made him too nostalgic. Things should have gone back to normal by now. Key word being should.

If his own inner turmoil wasn’t enough, Wayne had also been up his ass every time they spoke. After college, at work, at home. The old man was a ninja. Okay so not Eddie’s best analogy but his point still stood. As soon as he had gotten you off his mind his uncle appeared shoving you right back to the forefront.

“Have you talked to her?”

“Did you say sorry?”

“You have to do something for her.”

“Get off my couch and go fix things Edward.”

God it was a living nightmare there was no escape from. When it wasn’t his own voice it was Wayne’s and vice versa, there was no reprieve.

The voices got louder when he lay sleepless at night. Her face and the tears in her eyes were stuck on loop as he reheard her shaky voice as she last spoke to him. The good part he has left in him regrets it all. Then again the good part of him wants to cry himself to sleep, go buy her a bouquet of flowers and beg for forgiveness. Like hell was that happening. But his mind kept returning to those lingering questions even he couldn’t answer. Why had he pushed her away? She had done nothing wrong and he had yelled at her because of what, her keen observation skills? Her relationship with his uncle?

Because he knew this feeling all too well.

By the time he reached that level he’d given up on sleep opting for a smoke and some coffee. Ain’t no way is he going down that road.

He made his way back inside dumping the cold coffee in the sink as Wayne walked out of his room stretching.

“You’re up early Ed. That’s the third time this week.”

Eddie responds with a grunt of acknowledgement, his eyes darting back to the sink.

“Something on your mind?” Wayne pauses putting his elbows on the bench. “Someone on your mind?”

That was a loaded question. It was very obvious what was on his mind. What Wayne was really trying to ask was what was he going to do about it? And the answer to that was the same as it was the last few days. Nothing.

Wayne sighs and they move around each other as breakfast is made. They both sit on the couch shoveling eggs into their mouths before they had to leave and open the shop.

“You wanna know the four steps to winning back a girl?”

Eddie chokes on his food as he registers these words. He swallows hard and clears his throat. “Okay well first of all I have no need for such tips and second of all I’m in no mood to hear uncle guru’s life hacks this early in the morning when I’m running on caffeine and burnt toast.”

Wayne chuckles. “First off the toast and caffeine is your fault, second, I’m telling you anyway because I think you need to hear it.”

He puts his plate down and leans forward making direct eye contact with his nephew. “Step 1. Break the ice. Step 2. Contact. Step 3. Talk. Step 4. Apologize. 5. Peace Offering. If a girl is mad at you she’ll put up a wall you just gotta charge through that wall. You do something surprising so it stops her from completely icing you out, then you make sure she’s okay with you getting closer again, you start to talk and get her to open up and finally you open up, she feels trusted and she trusts you then to seal the deal you give her something meaningful so she’s always thinking of you. Never fails. Munson guarantee.”

Eddie smiles shaking his head. “Munson guarantee?”

“Munson Guarantee. Works one hundred percent of the time and if it doesn’t then you get a full refund.”

Eddie stands collecting their plates. “I didn’t invest no money in this.”

Wayne stands and scruffles Eddie’s bed hair. “That would be the point my boy.”

Eddie finishes his morning routine in a relatively good mood, every few minutes having a laugh at Wayne’s girl advice.

Five steps to win you back.

Yeah right.

---

He’d been a selfish idiot and sat in his regular spot, placed next to yours. Only for you to walk in, see him, turn tail and sit in the front corner. He couldn’t stop the pang of guilt in his chest when you walked away even though he knew it was coming. The first class in the last fortnight where you weren’t nagging in his ear and he missed it. Nag is the wrong word. You don’t miss nagging. Maybe he just missed you talking to him. But you sat a metaphorical ocean away. He didn’t even have your number. There was no way possible for him to even begin to explain what was going on. Not like he wanted to.

So he moped. He sat with his feet on the desk biting his lip and letting his head fall back. Moping over the unexpected impact losing you had on him. No matter how brief and shallow your interactions were. Suddenly a pop up in the corner of his screen drew his attention. A black textbox with your name at the top.

An email.

A lifeline.

It was just about the project, the first few pieces of sheet music with notes and rewrites. It simply read ‘make sure you have your overlay done by next Monday for when I booked the studio.’ But to him it said so much more. He had a week. Maybe he could fix things.

Wayne’s list got into his head.

Step 1. Break the ice.

Eddie’s first thought of course is, make you laugh. He scrolled through his options for a good minute or so before finding something he had a gut feeling would at least make you smile. He found a gif of a cat typing on a computer with the caption ‘I’m on it!’. He smiled and sent it through, his eyes immediately drifting to you. It took you a few minutes but he watched as your mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly. A huff of amusement passing through your lips before you started typing again. A notification popped up on his screen, a reply.

‘Not funny.’

Progress is progress.

Step 2. Contact.

He didn’t really know how to make contact considering you had been keeping about a miles radius between you two. Luckily his chance came tumbling down some stairs. Quite literally. On your way out of class one of your books had fallen apart, pages falling to the floor. You were on your knees whilst the class had already passed you by. A hand appeared in front of you gathering the spill of paper. You looked up to thank the person it was attached to when you found yourself looking into familiar eyes.

“Thank you so- oh.”

Eddie swallowed holding his pile out to you. You immediately clammed up but took the pile and held it to your chest as you stood.

“Thanks.” You mumbled. He stood slowly to meet you before you walked past him and out the door. He thought that had made no difference until he found you no longer aimed to stay away. You no longer seemed wary of only words of harm leaving his mouth.

At least you weren’t shoving him away with a bargepole anymore.

Step 3. Talk.

Talking to you was evidently not his strong suit but he couldn’t have planned this better. He had your sheet music in hand, half assed notes of his own to make it look like he had questions and concerns. He would tell you he was curious about your style choices and needed an explanation. It was a perfect plan. Yet here he stands in front of you speechless.

“Couldn’t you have just emailed me?”

Shit.

“Well no my laptop crashed yesterday and I didn’t want to just not do the work so uh yeah.” Idiot.

You choose to ignore the fact that you saw him on his laptop in class earlier and you grab the sheet from his hands. You spend the next ten minutes going through his questions and correcting his notes. He fidgets as he sits listening to things he already knows. But you move closer. You point out his mistakes. You make eye contact. You finish your speech and look up at him tiredly.

“Don’t know where I’d be without you angel.”

“Probably be off torturing another girl somewhere.”

Your words hold no poison and he takes that as a victory, he smiles gently back at you.

“Probably. Probably”

Step 4. Apologize.

“Sorry what?” You replied, your face stuffed with a grilled cheese as you rip out your headphones. He was obviously interrupting. Oh well. Too late now.

“I was a dick. I’m sorry.” He said looking to the ground.

You put your food down and turned to face him. “Where’s this coming from? Been waiting for this Eddie all my life. Did your uncle have a go at you or something?”

Yes he did. But he didn’t need you knowing that. “No I just realized you were right. This work involves both of us and its easier when we can tolerate each other being in the same room.”

You sit in a silent state of shock at Eddie’s out of the blue maturity. “Oh. Okay then.” The silence continues as Eddie digs his shoe into the ground and you stare at your food. “Do you um- Do you wanna sit?” You gesture at the opposite bench.

His eyebrows raise. “Uh yeah. Yeah for sure.”

Maybe Wayne was right. It was that easy.

Just one more step.

---

At your usual table sat a familiar coffee cup. One with loafs of bread and leaves scrawled along the rim spotting this you instantly knew where it was from and who put it there. The real question was why.

You walk tentatively closer, eyes catching on the boy sitting in the opposite corner of the room chipping away at his black nail polish avoiding your eyes. Your attention then moves back to the cup as your bag slides off your shoulder and you reach for the cup taking a hesitant sip.

He even added almond milk.

You place the cup back down on the table and only then to you spot the hardly legible writing on the side.

‘Peace Offering?’

---

Taglist:

@micheledawn1975​ , @emma77645​ , @rustboxstarr​ 

[siconetribal]

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m

Warning: The power of coffee, Jason finally gets his drink, Y/N might strangle someone, poor Y/N

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me. I am excited to finally be able to use them!

If you're new to the story, here is a link to the other parts:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

It all happened so quickly. The flash of white. The clatter of chairs. The sound of a table crashing to the floor. She was on the floor, covered in left over coffee and pastry crumbs, with her a soreness in her lower back and hands from the impact. How was it even possible for him to be here? Here in this coffee shop of all places in the outskirts of Gotham where no one really visits, and the city is trying to gentrify for the rich to come rolling in? Either he was stalking her or this was some sick joke and the universe was mocking her to no end. 

And why would he be stalking you? You gave him a nice hotel room to comfortably get ready in, only for him to utterly trash and leave you with a bill that’s worth more than you. Anger burned in her chest at the reminder of what her kindness had led her to. Screw that, I should demand him to pay me! Who does he think he is?! Here I am busting my butt day in and out while he’s walking around without a care in the world buying fancy-shmancy overpriced coffee while running around Gotham breaking idiot-proof instant coffee machines?! Does he think money just falls from the sky? Hotshot rich pretty boy trying to look tough and rugged. She snapped out of her spiraling thoughts from the throbbing ache in her jaw. How tight was she clenching her teeth? 

“Are you ok?” The deep voice that haunted her dreams followed soon after, a hand came into her line of sight. Of course, he saw her and her spectacular display of grace. Her anger that was boiling inside her was quickly quelled by the ice-cold bucket of embarrassment that came crashing down on her. How was she going to intimidate him? She was a minimum-waged paycheck-to-paycheck living citizen just barely making ends meet, and she wanted to get him to pay for her? Someone who seems to only see her in humiliating situations and is always trying to help her out? If she took that hand, she knew she would somehow be on the line for something more expensive.

That boy is going to be the death of me. It’s better to just leave it. Who knows what he’ll do if I tell him. I might end up in a loan with interest that even my great grandkids will be trying to pay off. “No, thank you.” She muttered under her breath, lightly pushing his hand aside before pushing herself up off the floor. Keeping her head down, she brushed the crumbs off her stained apron and straightened her shoulders. Turning on her heel, she took a step with confidence. She was not going to be the damsel in distress needing help again. Her heel landed on a puddle of coffee and continued its journey forward. She stared at her foot that was in the air, realizing that she was falling backwards once more. 

Oh, for the love of, she braced herself for the second impact and squeezed her eyes shut with her hands extending backwards to catch herself. She waited for pain to shoot up her spine and her hips would be crying. Yes, any second now. Her palms would be slamming into the floor and possibly bruise at the heel. She waited. How long does someone fall for? This is getting a bit ridiculous! She opened her eyes to see was stopped mid-fall. Blinking, she looked left and right to see she was reclined back and meant to be falling, but something was stopping her. “What the?”

“Can’t say I’m not used to women falling for me, but this is a first.” He chuckled, and her heart jumped into her throat. He had saved her again. Her face was on fire as she scrambled out of his arms and carefully stepped around the to be out of his reach. “Hey, are you ok?” He asked again.

“Yeah, fine, thanks.” She pulled her cap lower and tucked her chin to her chest for added measures as she started to pick up the knocked over furniture. She nearly jumped through the roof as his arm came into her periphery as he helped her pick up the heavy table with ease. “You don’t need to do that. You should order.” She deepened her voice and crab-walked around the mess and made sure she remained facing him, as she was to avoid him from seeing her face. When she felt she had gained enough distance, she quickly spun around, gathered her cleaning supplies.

Jason watched the awkward employee move around, obviously avoiding him. He looked down at himself. Do I offend? He wondered, not sure what he had done to get such a bizarre reaction. Normally, women were eager to flirt with him, but she was doing her best to do the exact opposite. She was trying to make sure she was unrecognizable, but the odd behaviors made her more memorable in a way. Frowning, he walked back to the counter, where Citlalli offered him an apologetic smile.

“I am so sorry about that, sir. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded his head, looking himself over once more. “Where was I? Oh, right, the coffee order.” He pulled out his phone again and began swiping through the chat to show her. With him distracted, Y/N turned back around and made sure to stand behind him so only Citlalli could see him. She excitedly waved her hands in the air until her best friend looked up at her.

That is him! He is 4k man!  She aggressively pointed at him, glaring daggers and punching at him in the air. Jason felt the burning look and turned, watching Y/N duck her head and do some sort of odd stretch. Seeing no one else looking at him, he shrugged and returned his attention to his phone, and Y/N signaled once more. “He,” she pointed to him as she mouthed the words. “Broke,” she held the mop in both her hands and mimed slamming it down on her thigh. “Coffee,” she pointed to the stain on her apron. “Him!” 

“What?” Citlalli mouthed back, her face scrunched in confusion. When Jason had looked up at her apologetically, she quickly put on her customer service face. “Not at all, please take your time, sir.” She assured him. As soon as he was looking at his phone again, she looked up at Y/N who repeated these motions a few times. On the fourth repetition, it dawned on Citlalli what Y/N was trying to say. “Oh, him?!” She mouthed back before eyeing him when a loud cracking sound came from behind Jason. Both of them looked to see Y/N standing there, holding a now broken mop.

Her face paled at what she had done. Their boss was going to really blow his lid now. Looking between the two pieces frantically, Jason turned back to the register. “Is she…alright?”

“Hm?! Oh, uh, yeah. Uhm, well,” Citlalli nervously laughed. “She’s still,” she slowly responded to him as she racked her brain for something to try to salvage the situation without him recognizing Y/N. “Recovering!”

“Recovering?” He raised a brow at her sudden shout of the word.

“Yes, recovering.” she proudly nodded her head. “She’s still recovering from a Joker incident. She’s one of the victims who were exposed to some laughing gas, but it wasn’t too bad in the sense that she was made into a laughing mess. Her mind is still, you know, and doctors have said it’ll take time. Please don’t mind her too much. She’s trying her best.”

“A victim of the Joker, damn, that’s rough.” He muttered under his breath, glancing over his shoulder to see Y/N down on her knees, shoulders shaking a little. He presumed it was her trying to stop herself from laughing, but in actuality she was trying not to cry. “I know how fucked up he can be. Uh, here’s the order.” He showed the phone screen to Citlalli who quickly tapped it into the register along with his regular coffee order.

“Thank you very much for understanding. We’ve had customers who’ve been offended by her.” Not a lie, she’s argued with rude people before. “Will that be all?” She quickly shifted the conversation back to the order, and he shook his head. 

“No, that’ll be all. I’ll pay with card.” He pulled out a black plastic rectangle and tapped it against the terminal. “Alright, here is your receipt. Please sign this copy here.” She handed him one sheet and then a pen with another. “Your drinks will be ready at the end of the bar to your right.” She pointed over to the pickup station. “We will call your name out for you, mister,” she glanced down at the receipt and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. 

“Just call for Todd,” he cut her off and pulled out a few high numbered bills and put them in the tip jar. “For you and your co-worker, and a small thanks for not using the name.” He flashed her a grin and waved, heading over to a clean table to wait.

“Oh, of course.” She nodded her head and quickly removed the cash from the tip jar to avoid anyone seeing how much had been put in and possibly cause trouble, and quickly got to making his drinks.

Y/N managed to clean up the mess and the rest of the sitting area after tapping the mop back together with packing tape. She prayed her boss would not be too upset, or perhaps not even notice.

We’ve needed a new mop for a while anyway. Maybe he’ll finally just buy it and not even ask what happened? As soon as she walked back in behind the counter, she felt herself being yanked forward and her forehead nearly collided with Citlalli’s. “Woah, what’s gotten into you?!”

“Are you sure?” Citlalli cut her off.

“Sure of what?”

“Don’t you play with me! Is he really the guy? The one who damaged the room?” She sternly asked, motioning towards Jason, who was patiently waiting for his drinks that were nearly done. Releasing Y/N from her grip, she handed her a cup and motioned to the pot of coffee. “Help me make his drinks while we talk.”

“Why would I not be sure? How many people go around with a voice like that and hair like that? That is him, I swear I’m not mixing things up.” She stressed, confused by her friend’s reaction. “Cici, what’s going on?” She glanced at the order details before making the coffee.

“Well, remember how you said ya might need to work for Bruce Wayne himself to pay it off?” Citlalli glanced at the order list as well.

“Yes, what about it?” She placed the first drink down. “Regular coffee, Todd. Regular coffee for Todd.” She shouted as she walked back over to Citlalli.

“He’s a Wayne boy.” She handed Y/N the receipt as she finished the second drink and brought it to the pickup counter. “Here is your second drink, we’ll be done with the third drink in just a moment.” She smiled at Jason, who was about to come pick up the drink. Nodding his head, he sat back down. Meanwhile, Y/N stood frozen in place. She had was saved by and spent a night in the same room with one of the famous Wayne children. There’s no way! How the hell did I get mixed up with one of them?! How am I supposed to approach him now?! I can’t just demand money, he can just laugh it off and say I’m making it up! This honestly can’t get any worse. She curled up into a ball, holding her head. I made an utter fool of myself just now, he’s definitely not going to believe me. This has to be some sick joke! She wanted to pout and whine, but she was on the clock. And I have a hotel room to pay off. She thought bitterly as she put the receipt in the register drawer before taking the next customer’s order. Cici can make his drinks and he’ll leave. He can leave, and I can stop having terrible luck because of him. She pulled off her hat, tossing into the shelf under the counter. Stalking me, yeah right. Try haunting me.

[multifan2022]

Golden Lies 6

PSA- this chapter contais a near SA, its also pretty discribtive killing wise from here on out.. JS.. read at your own risk.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

The walk was silent and hot, so hot that you were getting dizzy at one point. Between the events of the day and starting to get dehydrated, you were really starting to struggle. Thankfully the sun started to go down, but as the light faded from the sky no moon replaced it. When you both decided to stop and set up camp for the night something caught your attention. 

“The temps are dropping rapidly. I bet they raised the temp and in the morning there will be snow.” You said watching as Hardin pulled the layers you had both stripped off, out his bag. He pulled his t-shirt on then layered it with his jacket. He nodded to your chest “We should try to clean that before you put something on. If it gets infected you'll die.” 

You shook your head, “We have nothing to–” Just as you went to continue but a small tinkle beeping caught your attention. Hardin stood and caught a parachute that had floated its way down to you. When he opened it there was a container with shimmering white cream and a note. 

A diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure

When Hardin read it, he looked up at you confused before handing it to you. You shoved it into your pocket and reached for the cream. He shook his head and leaned down to you, using his free hand he tilted your head back. Small apologies fell from his lips as he rubbed the cream into your cuts. 

After a few agonizing moments he pulled back, clicked the lid on and handed your shirt to you. “Get some sleep, use the sleeping bag. I'll take first watch today.” You nodded, getting into the sleeping bag as small flakes of snow started to fall. Hardin pulled the gloves and hats out of the bag a few hours later. Putting his on then pulling yours onto your sleeping body. Now that he was sure you were asleep, he pulled out the bag of pills. 

Dropping the last one into his palm. He knew by the way his body reacted when he needed them. So he knew it was pushing day six or seven in the real world, even if it only felt like three or four in the arena. He knew he only had a few more days to get you to the win. “Eleven more to go.. Then you're going home Y/n.” He said quietly to himself. 

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, the temperature started to rise again. But this time it was unbearable. The leaves on the trees started to wilt, the trees themselves hot to the touch. You actually had to stop walking at a few points to try and cool down, but it was impossible. The air was dry, and every breath felt like you were swallowing dirt. Without water you would both soon pass out from dehydration. 

While you and Hardin were laying under the roots of two trees trying to cool off you heard a laugh. Twigs snapped next as you looked over to Hardin, he was asleep. You slowly moved out from under your tree, the metal of your sickle handle burning your hand as you tried to grab it. Having unknowingly laid in the sun, it became unusable to you. 

Since you had stripped off your pants and were walking in your tight shorts and sports bra you had literally no weapons on you. It was stupid, but your brain wasnt function well in this heat. You walked just enough steps away from where your friend was soundly hidden and scanned the area. You were far enough away you could see his tree, but someone who didn't know he was there wouldn't. 

“Ahh.. 9 did not expect to see you here.. Especially not so much of you.” It was the male career from 2, he had no weapon that you could see. But that didn't mean much, they were just as deadly with their hands as they were with a sword. “Where's your little friend? We had a bet on how long he would last. You'll be all alone once I kill him.”

You had been scanning the ground as he talked. Looking for anything that you could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He took a step forward and you took one back, “Before I kill you.. Why don't you tell me what your weapon of choice is.. That way I can kill your friend with it.” You spotted a pile of cut up logs at the base of a tree, probably to trick someone into making a fire. You slowly started turning and stepping towards it. 

Bauer thought you were trying to circle him, so he stepped opposite of you. But he didnt know he was just helping you get right where you needed to be. He thought you were weak, you could see it on his face. Which would play out to help you just like it had before. “Well I was hoping to see a scythe.. I didn't see one in training, and there wasn't one at the cornucopia. But maybe one of your sponsors will send you one.” 

He laughed again and shrugged “Bye bye 9” he ran at you grabbing your shoulders and kicking his knee into your gut. Quickly recovering you allowed him to push you to the ground, shuffling back on your hands until he kicked your chest. The cuts that had almost healed thanks to the medicine breaking back opened instantly. He dropped down on top of you, his legs straddling yours. 

He smiled down at you as his hands found your wrists. You lifted your hips trying to get him off you but when he groaned you stopped moving completely. “Maybe we should have some fun first..” 

The command center fell silent, all the game makers and assistants waiting for someone to say something. None of them thought the games were wrong, but some of them were hesitant at the actions and words that Bauer had just spoken. Where they really going to let a sexual assult happen on national televison? Wasn't that pushing the line? I mean kids watched this show.

Haymitch stood from his place at his monitor, Chaff next to him in the chair watching as his friend white knuckled the tablet in front of him. “Wake up Hardin.. Wake up!” he yelled as he pushed the button to send in food. Both the adults just hoped it was enough to wake up the boy. And that the boy then saved his friend, because none of them wanted to witness this. 

Even Brutus and Enobaria were looking away from the screen, disgusted at the behavior of their tribute. Brutus added to his mental list to teach the tributes that this was in no way acceptable. Enobaria and Cashmere were looking at each other, trying not to show any weakness. But both women knew what it was like to have that taken against your will. 

Finnick watched from the bed of someone he had just finished an appointment with. He hated that Snow had pulled him from the tribute center to do this. Hated even more doing it while the game was playing on the wall behind them. The woman below him not wanting to miss anything good, but not willing to miss her chance with the golden boy. 

As he pulled his jeans up he heard her voice “Oh my god.” He swung around at the distress in her voice and watched as the district 2 tribute pressed his lips against your skin. His fists clenched, he wanted to run to the tribute center, but knew there was nothing he could do. He wanted to look away and almost did, but when the camera panned to your face he watched your eyes lose their light. 

Everyone watched as your face relaxed, eyes once filled with life now dead. Then all at once filled with fire, a fire that would burn the entire arena down. 

You heard the chiming of a parachute as Bauer leaned down, his lips pressing against your throat. A gag wanted to force its way out of your throat but you forced it down. Everyone was watching, all the mentors, all the districts, little Cissa. Your body relaxed again, that killer calm coming over you as your mind screamed that this was not going to happen. Not now, not during the games, this was not how you were going to die. 

Bauer thought the relaxing of your body was you giving in to him. When he pulled back, he was startled by your smile, his hands relaxing just a little. Just enough for your hands for you to pull away and grab his face. He smirked disgustingly as he leaned down, probably to press his lips to yours. That smirk didn't have time to fall as you used your grip on his hair to slam your head into his. 

The pain didn't faze you as he flew back dazed, you used his distraction to flip you both over. You hit him over and over again in the face, watching as his nose started to bleed. His eyes blinked quickly, trying to figure out what had happened. Leaning over your hands, grab a good sized log, not too long or too heavy. 

‘They were going to let him rape me’ You thought, as you raised the log ‘If they want a bloody show.. I'll give them one.’ The log came down with a sickening crunch on his face, his nose shattering under the bark. “Dont” arms up “You know” arms down “not to touch” arms up “someone without' arms down “ASKING!” You screamed as you slammed the log down again. 

Over and over and over again even after the cannon went off. The cannon scared Hardin out of his sleep, scurrying out from his place under the tree and yelling your name. He heard a wet sounding thud and grunts and ran towards it. He was never expecting to see what he saw. 

“My god that is.. We haven't seen something this bloody since Wade Rankine..” 

The district 2 males body was under you, but his face was unrecognizable. Blood was splattered across the ground and your arms, chest, legs and face. He stopped running as he watched you slam what looked like a log down into his face again. When he said your name again, your head snapped to him, arms dropping as exhaustion fell over you. 

All at once, what you had just done came over you. Tears falling from your eyes as you try to stand, but you just fall back onto the body under you. Sobs ripping out of your throat as your body finally gave out from all the stress and the three people you had killed this week. Hardin moved towards you, scooping you into his arms. 

The mentor's room was silent as Haymitch slumped back into his chair. Mags got up from her chair and walked over to the man, hugging him and patting his back. She didn't know what it was about this girl that inspired him, but she could tell he really cared. She could tell that Finnick wanted to care, and that made her care. Haymitch let out a few deep breaths before nodding against Maggie's shoulder. Thankful that you were ok, but slightly horrified at how easily you seemed to be packing this away. 

He knew that if you won, which he hoped you did, that you would either continue to compartmentalize or that you would fall apart. But either way, he would be there to try and help you through it. 

Your legs wrap around Hardins waist as you hide your face in his neck. He walks back to where the parachute is, by the trees you were laying under. He sits with you in his lap, rocking you back and forth as you sob. The only thing he can do is rub your back and tell you over and over again that you're ok. Being careful to not say ‘it's ok’ because you both know it's not. 

Eventually your sobs stop and you fall asleep in his arms. He picks up the parachute popping it open with one hand. Small rations and a bottle of water are inside, no note. He realizes that whoever was watching them was just trying to wake him up. Guilt rushed over him as he leaned his head against you and whispered “God.. I'm so sorry.” 

~

~

~

@avis15 @liballer @avoxrising

[trashyswitch]

Luigi's Secret

Chapter 5: After-Dinner Shenanigans

Mario and Luigi leave their parents house, and continue to tease each other and bond over typical brotherly things.

As soon as the boys hopped into their car and closed the door, Luigi and Mario both let out a sigh of relief. 

“Mama mia…” Mario let out. “I love our famiglia, but I am exhausted.” Mario told him. 

Luigi scratched his own forehead as he looked at Mario. “Do you want me to-a drive?” Luigi asked. 

Mario looked at Luigi with exhaustion just dripping from his eyes. “Will you?” Mario asked softly. 

Luigi shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “Sure! I don’t mind driving.” Luigi replied. 

Mario chuckled and opened the car door. “I know you don’t mind, but still…You’re not tired?” Mario asked as he closed the door. 

Luigi hopped out as well and walked past his brother to the driver's side. “Not-a really, no.” Luigi replied. “I could still go another couple hours.” Luigi admitted as he hopped into the driver's seat and closed the door. 

Mario laughed as he closed the passenger side door. “Well, maybe I’m tired because someone couldn’t keep their paws off me for a night.” Mario teased. 

Luigi groaned in pain as he held his forehead. “Did you mean to word it like we’re a gay couple?” Luigi asked. 

Mario laughed and covered his mouth. “No no, that’s-” Mario doubled over, wheezing before clapping his hands a couple times. “-That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Mario reacted. 

Luigi rolled his eyes and started the car. “Then what did you mean, oh tired one?” Luigi asked. 

Mario poked his side. “You couldn’t go one hour without tickling me.” Mario explained. 

Luigi jumped and pushed Mario’s hand away. “Don’t go around calling yourself the innocent one. You couldn’t go a single second without taunting me.” Luigi reminded him. “Yeah! Cause it’s fun to tease you!” Mario reacted. 

Luigi smiled as he turned himself around to look behind him, while pressing the gas lightly. “Well, maybe it’s fun to tickle you.” Luigi teased. 

Mario rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s fun to tickle me.” Mario muttered. “Tickling others is always fun.” 

Luigi changed the stick to Drive, before letting the steering wheel turn itself forward. “Well that, and you’re very cute and tickle-able.” Luigi told him with a smirk. Mario looked at Luigi out of the corner of his eye, refusing to look at his brother for fear of making his blush more visible. Then, he poked Luigi’s side. “Right back at you.” Mario shot back. 

Luigi widened his eyes and jumped, before attempting to slap his hand away. But the dude was trying to hit him without looking, and was missing every slap attempt. All the while, his face was heating up red already from just the comment and the poke alone. 

Mario laughed as he kept going around his brother’s hand and poking his brother’s exposed right side occasionally. Luigi kept driving one-handed, trying to hit Mario’s hand with his free right hand to stop him. But you could only do so much when you’re trying to focus on the road while your stupid older brother keeps poking you.

“Mario, I’m driving!” Luigi spat at him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye for a moment before looking forward at the road. 

“And I’m getting my revenge!” Mario declared. “No biggie.” He added. 

“Now is NOT the time-” Luigi finally managed to land a slap on the back of Mario’s hand. 

Mario pulled his hand back, yelping in pain, before looking at Luigi. Mario then smirked and started poking him with both his hands this time! “How well can you drive when being tickled?” Mario asked, poking his side and his belly. 

Luigi growled and tightened his diaphragm in an attempt to lessen the tickles while he drove. But everytime he had to breathe, the tickling would worsen and make him curl up enough to skew his line of vision. He should NOT be driving like this! 

Luigi finally flipped on the right turning signal, before pulling over. Somehow, the man managed to park the car without hitting the curb, while Mario only kept on poking his stupid sides. With the car put into park, Luigi turned over and began to physically play-fight with his brother. “STOP IT! You’re driving me INSANE!” Luigi argued. 

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Mario asked with a smirk. 

“VERY annoying.” Luigi warned, genuinely angry at this point. 

Mario giggled a bit. “Do you need me to stop?” Mario asked. 

“YES!” Luigi shot back. 

“Okay, okay! Ihi’ll stop!” Mario reacted, holding up his arms in arrest. 

Luigi softened his expression and let Mario’s hands go. He turned to the front of the seat, and repositioned himself. “Can’t the revenge wait until we get home? Or…ya know…Tomorrow?” Luigi asked. 

Mario raised an eyebrow. “Well which would you rather?” Mario asked. 

Luigi widened his eyes and looked forward. “I…You want me to have a say?” Luigi asked, looking at Mario out of the corner of his eye. 

Mario chuckled. “It’s your doom. You might as well have a say in your own doom.” Mario teased. 

Luigi could feel his stupid cheeks betraying him again. He began to stutter and look everywhere except directly at Mario. “Sh-Shut up.” Luigi muttered, pushing Mario’s shoulder. 

Mario laughed loudly at his blushy younger brother. “You’re so easily embarrassed!” Mario laughed. 

“Yeah? W-Well, you’re no different!” Luigi attempted to argue. 

“I can sense your confidence.” Mario said sarcastically. 

“More confidence than you have with Peach.” Luigi argued. 

Mario looked at Luigi with shock. “Hey! What does Peach have to do with this?!” Mario argued. 

“It is blatantly clear you like her, Mario. I know how you act around girls.” Luigi told him. 

“How do I act?” Mario asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“You get all competitive and smug. You act like you’re SuCh A tOuGh GuY.” Luigi exaggerated. 

“I do not.” Mario mumbled. 

Luigi guffawed before looking at Mario. “I believe some of your exact words from yesterday were ‘Don’t even think about it’ and ‘You messed with the wrong plumber’.” Luigi joked. 

“I was fending for myself! Am I not allowed to fend for myself?!” Mario asked. 

“She is 5 foot 11, Mario. You’re 5 foot freaking 1!” Luigi reacted. 

“SO WHAT?!” Mario yelled. “SHE-” Luigi paused for a moment, before sitting back, closing his eyes, and taking in a big breath. He breathed out. “All I’m saying is…When are you gonna ask her out?” Luigi asked him with a tiny smirk. 

Mario widened his eyes and blinked. He could feel his own face start to flush a slight red as he struggled to think. “B-But-” 

Luigi let out a laugh as he saw the blush. “I knew it! I knew it, I could sense it the whole time.” Luigi elbowed him a bit. “Mario has a cruuuush~” Luigi teased. 

“The more you keep talking, the more you’re gonna get it.” Mario warned. 

Luigi chuckled. “I thought I had a say in when I was being tickled?” Luigi asked with a smug grin on his face. 

“Keep going, and I may forfeit your privileges.” Mario warned. 

Luigi rolled his eyes. “You forfeit my privileges, and I may just tell Peach aaaaall your ticklish spots.” Luigi teased. 

Mario widened his eyes and covered his own middle with blatant fear. “You-You wouldn’t…” Mario muttered. 

Luigi looked forward at the road with a smug little grin on his face. “Choose wisely, Mario.” Luigi warned softly. 

Mario narrowed his eyes at him. “You don’t…” Mario looked forward at the road and hunched over almost in a pouty position. “You don’t even know all my ticklish spots.” Mario muttered. 

Luigi raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Are you sure about-a that, Mario?” Luigi asked. 

“Y-Yeah. You can’t possibly name all of them.” Mario said back. 

Luigi cleared his throat before looking at Mario and freeing his own right hand. “Sides and ribs are a good spot for starters. But I believe Peach already knows those spots.” Luigi started, making hand gestures as he talked. 

“WHA-” Mario dropped his hands to his sides and dropped his jaw in shock. 

“Armpits are a good idea too, though. However, nothing comes even close to how ticklish your feet are.” Luigi explained. 

“I-” Mario shouted, unable to think straight. “The feet are a STUPID ticklish spot, specifically the toes! And don’t get me STARTED on the big toe! Good lord, that spot could kill you in a minute tops.” Luigi explained. “But if the toes are just too resistant, one could always go for your arch or heels.” Luigi explained next. “Those work well too.” Luigi added with a smirk. 

“LUIGI-” Mario growled and looked down, covering his face. 

“Another super ticklish spot happens to be your belly button. Though it’s a bit hard to reach that spot on most days, thanks to the overalls.” Luigi added with a laugh. 

Mario let out a whine and muttered some Italian curse words under his breath. 

Luigi parked the car in the usual spot right beside the pipe that led to the mushroom kingdom. “Oh! And who could possibly forget to mention the neck!” Luigi added. “Specifically the right side and the jawline, which I’m sure Peach would find absolutely adorable, by the way.” Luigi teased. 

Mario waited impatiently for Luigi to finish his stupid infodump. “Are you DONE?” Mario asked. 

Luigi giggled and placed his hand on his chin. “I think so…Though I believe there’s one other spot I’m missing…” Luigi thought for a moment. 

Mario uncovered his eyes and looked at Luigi. “AHA!” Mario declared, pointing to him. “So you DON’T know all of them!” Mario reacted. 

Luigi raised his eyebrows and snapped his fingers. “OH! OH!” Luigi declared, suddenly remembering the spot. But before he could get it out, Mario covered up Luigi’s mouth. 

Luigi widened his eyes and yelped in surprise, before looking at Mario with slight shock. But seeing Mario’s red, embarrassed face…for some reason…helped give Luigi the small bit of confidence he needed to continue this brutal tease-fest. 

Luigi looked at the hand that was on his mouth, and narrowed his eyes. Mario’s self-defense act had been a huge mistake. And the best part? Mario didn’t even realize it yet. 

With a swift inhale, Luigi blew a raspberry on Mario’s hand. 

“eeEEEHEEK!” Mario pulled his hand back, squeezing his hand into a fist as he grew a wobbly smile and let out a few giggles. 

“Your palms!” Luigi declared, his mouth free to verbally tease him all he wants. “Though, that’s probably the strangest ticklish spot out of all of them.” Luigi replied. 

Mario looked over at Luigi for only a few seconds…before showing Luigi the most evil little smile he could muster. It was here that Luigi began to realize…that he may have just screwed up big time. 

Mario kicked his own passenger door open, and hopped out of the van. Closing the door, Mario marched his chubby little legs over to the drivers side, and opened the door. Because Luigi was still leaning against the door, Luigi ended up falling backwards out of the car. Luigi felt instant relief the moment he felt hands rather than pavement. But his relief quickly turned to fear when he saw Mario holding him bridal style. 

“WAH! M-Mario, can we pleASE TALK ABOUT-” Luigi shrieked as he was blatantly dropped right into the green pipe by his brother. 

Mario wiped off his hands, and turned around to look at the van. He decided to take a couple extra seconds to make sure that the keys were grabbed and the van was locked. Putting both the keys and his phone back into his pocket, Mario jumped into the pipe right after his brother. 

Having lived in the Mushroom kingdom for months now, Mario was used to the long slide that led to and from the Mushroom Kingdom. It was fun, and certainly felt like a wild tube slide made for adults. Mario looked forward and saw Luigi flying down the pipe in front of him. Mario brought his own hands to his sides, and allowed himself to go down faster. 

Luigi popped out of the pipe first and landed onto the grass. Mario popped out next, landing right beside him…Quite convenient placing considering the tickle fight that was about to start. 

Mario quickly crawled up to Luigi and started absolutely destroying his brother with tickles. “While we’re on the topic of embarrassing ticklish spots, Maybe I should start specifying every cute little ticklish spot on YOU!” Mario declared. 

“eEEEHEHEHEHEEE! MAHAHARIO PLEASE NOHOHOHO!” Luigi begged, trying super hard to stop his brother. 

“Now where do I even start…” Mario muttered. “Well for starters, I’ll start with the #1 cutest little ticklish spot on you: Your ears.” Mario teased, fluttering his fingers very gently on the back part of his right ear. 

Luigi snorted right away and blushed a dark red, as squeaky giggles started to leave his lungs. “EEEheeheeheehee! *snort* Nohohooo! *snort* Leeheeave my eeeheeheears alohohone!” Luigi reacted. 

“I think the funniest part is when your blush is so dark and spreading so fast, it even begins to cover theeee…” Mario gently traced his fingers right over to the top of his vulnerable ear. “Top of your ears!” Mario finished. 

Luigi snorted and tilted his head towards the tickling hand. The man just kept snorting occasionally and giggling up a storm at this point. “eeEEHEHEEHEE!” Luigi squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to get Mario’s hands away from his fragile, tickly ears. 

Keyword here is ‘attempted’. 

“Ihit’s like your ears have flashing lights that tell people “TICKLE ME! TICKLE ME!”. It’s so funny!” Mario explained, letting out a few laughs of his own. 

Luigi covered up his face in pure embarrassment. Though he knew that teasing him the way he did would get him in trouble, Luigi still could NOT predict a lee mood to come on so quickly. It was like Luigi did a full 180 in a matter of minutes! 

“Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle~!” Mario teased before tickling Luigi’s completely vulnerable left ear. 

Luigi let out a glass-shattering squeal. “eEEEHEHEEEEE! *snort* NAHAhaha- *snort*!!” Luigi covered his face with both his hands. “MM MMHMHMHM- *snort* -HMHMHM!” Luigi whined through his palms. 

Mario then pulled out that feather powerup from a couple days earlier, and started tickling his right ear with it. 

Luigi could’ve died from how embarrassed he was. Though the other tickle fights he had over the last couple days were great, this specific tickle fight quickly took the cake as his favorite. If it wasn’t evident enough, one of Luigi’s favorite spots to be tickled and teased is the ears. He knows it’s embarrassing. He knows what Mario is capable of doing. But he freaking LOVES IT! 

“So which ear tickles more? The right ear? Or the left one?” Mario asked curiously. 

Luigi giggled and shook his head. “Ihihihi dohohon’t knohohohow.” Luigi replied. 

“Do you need me to try it out?” Mario asked. 

Luigi uncovered his face momentarily. “Uhuhuhuhuhh…” Luigi struggled to reply. If he wasn’t so embarrassed about this little secret, he probably would’ve told Mario the truth right now in a heartbeat. But…with how the tickle community was often perceived, he knew it was going to be a lot harder than just straight-up admitting it. 

Luigi was thrown out of his thoughts the moment his left ear was tickled with the feather. “EEEHEEEK! Wahahahaha!” Luigi laughed, shaking his head left and right. Though this wouldn’t help Luigi in the slightest. In fact, shaking his head rapidly would only tickle his ear even more. 

“Too bad I only have 1 powerup feather…Two of them would be very useful right now.” Mario admitted. 

“Shuhuhushhhh!” Luigi ordered. 

“I feel like one would be plenty enough for the poor man.” Someone nearby said. 

Mario yelped and looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. Luigi had covered his mouth and squeaked in horror. He knew EXACTLY who this was, and he was WAY too embarrassed to even make eye contact with them. 

Mario scratched the back of his head as he looked at the person. “Princess, I…” Mario bit his lip, embarrassed. “How…how long have you been watching?” Mario asked. 

Peach giggled and crossed her arms. “Oh, about 15 minutes.” She replied. “There’s only one person I know who has a laugh as genuine and goofy as Luigi’s.” Peach told him.

As if it was even possible at this point, Luigi’s cheeks had started glowing an even darker shade of red. “……Eheh…oh.” Luigi mumbled, still quite tired from the giggles.  

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if ‘goofy’ is the right word for it. Genuine certainly is, but not ‘goofy’.” Mario replied. 

Peach smiled and walked up to Luigi. “Hmm…” Peach looked down to Luigi, and offered him a hand. “Need help up?” Peach asked. 

Luigi smiled a bit and took her hand, getting up. “Thank you.” 

Mario smiled and looked at the two of them. “We should probably head inside. Did you want to come in, Peach?” Mario asked. 

Luigi smiled a bit and shook his head. He saw this coming a mile away. Peach smiled brightly and nodded her head. “I would love to!” she replied. 

Luigi walked up and opened the door for her, waving for her to come in. He closed the door when Peach went inside. “Very nice house. Small, but cute.” Peach said. 

Luigi chuckled. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘quaint’.” Luigi said. 

Mario guffawed and looked at Luigi. “Where’d you pull that word out of?!” Mario asked. 

Luigi chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “My head.” Luigi replied. 

“You read too much.” Mario teased. 

Luigi rolled his eyes. “And you don’t read enough.” Luigi replied. 

Peach sat down at the table, thinking for a moment. “What does ‘quaint’ mean?” Peach asked. 

Luigi smiled. “Charming, pretty, unique.” Luigi replied. “It’s a word often used to describe old-fashioned buildings, or people who were out of the ordinary.” Luigi replied. “In a good way, I mean.” Luigi added. 

Peach nodded and watched as Luigi put down a mug of tea in front of her, with the tea bag still in. “Thank you.” Peach said, doctoring up her tea as she listened to the boys bicker and chat. None of them would end up going to bed until much later. And despite knowing they’re gonna wake up feeling slightly less rested the next morning, Mario and Luigi both agreed that it was going to be worth it. 

I wanted to put this tiny disclaimer at the end...Please don't do what Mario did, and tickle the driver while the car's moving. This counts as distracted driving, and you are going to cause a car crash, followed by endless embarrassment caused by having to explain this unfortunate situation to the police. So...Don't do that. That is all. :)

[quarantineddreamer]

As a Shadow | Chapter 5 - Beautiful contrasts

Reposting 🥲 Let’s try this again since tumblr hated my tags the first time apparently.

Sorry about that cliffhanger last time, hope this makes up for it (😬😱). I cannot wait to hear your thoughts!! 💙 (Click title for AO3, or read below --please mind the tags on this one. Reblogs, comments, etc. eternally appreciated!)

There is a perfect moment where nothing else exists. All she knows is the tangle of her fingers in his hair, his hands pressing into her back, the movement of his mouth in response to her own, and the fierce burn of the kyber-crystal that rests between them. The hammering of their hearts becomes a chorus that drowns out everything around them until they are submerged completely in one another and the rest of the galaxy has melted away.

Then a pounding on the door startles both of them. “Is this bunk taken?” the muffled voice of a stranger calls.

“Yes!” Cassian shouts instantly, and Jyn gives a soft laugh at his breathlessness.

He shakes his head. “We have terrible timing,” he murmurs.

There is an awkward beat as Jyn sees his eyes flicker over her face, over what, to him, is empty space, searching for her. She moves his hand from where it rests on her hip and guides it up her shoulder and lightly over her face. When he’s reoriented, Cassian closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his forehead against her own with a small sigh.

Jyn takes his hand from off her knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know…” The reality of their circumstances has returned all too soon. What has just happened is incredible, unbelievable really. It’s a gift that might never have been granted before in the entire history of the universe, yet it is still not enough.

He clasps the back of her head, lightly holding her in place against him. “I wish I could see you,” he says quietly.

“I do too,” Jyn agrees with a slight touch of guilt. She knows she’s getting the better end of this deal–the whole ‘dead’ thing aside–because at least she can see him.

“And I wish I could hear your voice…”

That too…

Cassian tilts his head to press another soft kiss to her lips, but as soon as he’s pulled away he’s back again and this time Jyn shifts forward so that her knees are on either side of his hips, pinning him beneath her, their torsos molded together.

Again, the world disappears, as her hands wander over his shoulders and his down her spine. For Jyn, it is impossible to remember the truth of her half-existence. How can she possibly recall a thing as trivial as death when Cassian’s pull is like gravity, bringing her to center? Every part of her comes to life under the heat of his touch, an ember stirred back to flame.

I take back every bad thing I ever said about the Force, Jyn thinks to herself hazily, a shiver passing through her as Cassian’s mouth finds her neck and his beard tickles her skin. If this is what it brought me back for, I should be saying thanks…

Cassian’s hands find one side of her jacket. He is beginning to gently push it off her shoulders when he starts to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jyn demands, tapping her hands against his sides.

“You’re wearing clothes.”

“Why wouldn’t I be wearing clothes?!”

“I didn’t realize ghosts wore clothes.” His body shakes as he continues to chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

Jyn gives his shoulders a light shove, but really she is delighting in the sound of his laughter as well as the sight of the lopsided smile on his face, the flush in his cheeks. “You assumed I was wandering around naked this whole time?” she says indignantly, leaning away from him.

“Wait, wait, Jyn.” He wraps his arms around her and pulls her back, that goofy grin still on his face. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just not anything I’ve ever thought about before. I hadn’t even noticed it, until…”

His hands gently slide under her shirt so that they are against the small of her back, igniting heat where they touch. A heat that spreads through her entire body as he begins to drag his fingers across her skin in slow, enticing circles.

Jyn places her palm under his chin and guides his lips back to hers, wrestling herself free of her jacket and tossing it behind her where it falls silently to the floor.

It feels natural to be held in Cassian’s arms, kissing him. As though their collision was predestined, as inevitable as an eclipse, and she is a dark and solitary moon now encompassed by an inferno of light and warmth.

Her senses are aflame; she breathes in his scent as she runs her lips down his neck, tastes the lingering salt of sweat on his soft skin, feels the tremor that runs through him as she moves across his chest, delights in the low sigh he emits when she teases her fingers through his hair.

“If you’re going to complain about my clothes, I get to complain about yours,” Jyn breathes into his ear, then pointedly begins to play with the collar of the tactical vest he’s wearing.

Cassian willingly rolls the vest (with all its infuriatingly bulky pockets) off his shoulders while Jyn tugs at the hem of his shirt until he’s free of that too. Her eyes catch for a moment on the kyber-crystal that glows against his bare chest, rising and falling with each breath he takes.

‘Hold on,’ she’d told him when she’d placed the kyber in his hands. And he had. The kyber had made it off Scarif, and so had he–which is all she had asked for. But he’s held on to her too. All this time, he’s kept her with him, unwilling to abandon her to dust and shadows.

She’s never had anyone show her such devotion. Never had anyone so steadfast and trustworthy.

But then again, she’s never known someone like him.

She places her palm against his chest and pushes gently until he lies back, his head resting atop the single pillow of the decidedly unglamorous bed. And his hands find her waist, but his eyes are still endlessly searching for her until Jyn softly coaxes his eyelids to close with the tips of her fingers. No more of that…. They’ve found each other, that is enough for now. It has to be. They will take what they can get and run with it, as they have both done throughout the entirety of their lives.

She pulls her shirt over her head, removes her bra, and sends them both to join the growing pile on the floor. Cassian follows her movements with his fingertips, running his hands up her bare sides, palms pressed against her, fingers splayed and lingering over every inch as though he is mapping the surface of her body by feel, committing every detail of her features to memory.

A heartbeat stutters, a hot shiver runs through her, something eager and hungry stirring in her belly when he begins to caress her breasts, his hips reflexively pressing upwards into hers.  

A low man escapes her lips at the feel of his body beneath her, at how hard he’s become from just the contact of their skin against one another. She rolls her hips, his crotch rubbing against her own, and even with the layers of cloth between them, it’s enough to make her bite her lip.

When she continues to grind against him Cassian emits a soft growl and gives her breasts a firm squeeze in response before quickly pulling her down towards him, their lips clashing fervently.

She echoes the rhythm of his breathing, rough and hot against her neck, tickling her ears, bringing heat to her cheeks. He is everywhere, his fingers pressing into her shoulders, his hands dragging down her back till they grasp her ass, pulling her closer and closer still, until she’s lost track of where he begins and she ends.

There’s an electric current rushing through her, a pulse rising to a fervor. Cassian must be experiencing the same, because he leans away, eyes opening as he shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says in a voice ragged with lust. “Just give me a minute.”

Jyn runs her hands over his torso, fingers teasing over muscles and rib cage, light as feathers.

Cassian shudders and tilts his head back into the pillow, exposing his neck to her. It’s instinct for her to lean over and kiss the hollow of it, to frame his collarbone with her lips and follow the line of it down to the center of his chest where every stunning heartbeat can be felt against her mouth.

“Jyn,” he groans, hips tilting helplessly upwards again.

It’s possible he’s wanted this for longer than she ever realized, and she understands why he’s trying to slow her down, to take a moment to cool off, but she’s never been the most patient of people and she’s not about to start. “It doesn’t matter,” she tells him, slipping her fingers tentatively towards his belt buckle, waiting to see if he’ll tell her to stop. “I want you.” And she doesn’t care how long this time will last, because they’ve never had much of it anyways. Their paths crossed in life in the briefest flash of starlight and was over before it had even begun. If she had known, she wouldn’t have wasted a second of it doing anything less than exactly what they desired.

Cassian sits up to kiss her, cupping the back of her neck with one hand, knotting his fingers in her hair with the other. He parts her lips with his tongue and the taste of his mouth in hers is enough to make her fingers curl with pleasure against his shoulders.

This time it’s him who stands and reaches for his belt. When a moment later he’s finally free of all his layers and standing naked before her all Jyn can do is lean back for a moment, a slanting, pleased smile forming.

He moves towards her, finds her ear and whispers, “Is this what you wanted, Erso?”

She grips his cock in reply and begins slowly stroking up and down. His eyes snap shut, his breath hitches and he sighs in pleasure, muscles dancing as he loses a modicum of composure and leans into her touch. “I think there’s still a bit more I’d ask of you,” she murmurs.

He doesn’t protest when she removes her hand, maybe it’s because even though he can’t see her, some part of him knows she’s stripping the last of her clothes from her body–though she hopes he doesn’t imagine the shaky hands she has to contend with as she does so.

Her foot brushes his leg as she kicks the last layer away. It is Cassian’s turn to guide her back to the mattress, he hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, his outline defined by a halo of light that streams from the ceiling, as though she is casting shadow onto him, drawing out perfect, beautiful contrasts in each of them.

He bends down and captures her lips with his own with a tenderness that makes Jyn’s soul ache. But she hasn’t forgotten her greater goal, if anything her want has shifted to need, and she’s sure that if she’s forced to wait any longer to have him inside her she’s going to implode.

She reaches down in the space between them until she finds the hard length of him, warm and delightfully stiff in her palm, then urges him down towards her opening, long since gone slick with desire. When he finally pushes into her Jyn tightens, her back arching, and they both gasp.

“Cassian,” she breathes, barely able to form his name as euphoria flashes through her, electric and hot.

It takes a minute before he starts moving again, but when he does, it’s all she can do to hang on as waves of pleasure envelop her with each thrust.

“ Jyn,” he gasps her name as though he is drowning in it, as though he’s forgotten anything else. He swears in that foreign language she’s heard from him before, and she doesn’t need to know what it means to tell he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is.

She shuts her eyes and begins to drift in the sensation emanating from her core, building with each passing second. She scratches at the muscles of his back, holding fast to the solid feel of his body under her touch and he buries himself inside her with more urgency.

Cassian’s breath begins to break, his muscles contracting and she can tell he’s barely able to hold back.

She doesn’t want him to either. “Please,” she moans, her own energy reaching a peak just imagining the way he’ll fall apart.

She places her hand against his chest to feel his racing heart and the touch is enough to send him over the edge, crying her name.

Her eyes fly open at the warmth that he spills inside her and his face is one of such intense ecstasy that it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through her. As he rides out the last waves of his orgasm she slips a finger onto her clit, trembling against him as she continues moving her hips against his until she climaxes too, exquisite pulses of elation flooding her entire body in incredible bursts.

Cassian presses his lips to her left cheek, then her right, brushes her nose, and then meets her mouth with his own in a final searing crush before pulling out and collapsing beside her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Jyn can’t help the breathy laugh she gives. Did that just happen? she wonders.

But her doubts are erased when Cassian’s arm reaches across the bed to find her waist; when he rolls to his side and pulls her close against his chest, his nose buried in the crook of her neck, his beard brushing her skin as he catches his breath. It feels too safe, too substantial, too wonderful to be a dream or a phantom place like Lah’mu.

Cassian’s arms tighten around her. “Don’t,” his voice breaks on the word as he swallows back the hue of pain that threatens to bleed into his tone. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he whispers to her softly, some trace of his fear still remaining despite his efforts to hide it.

The kyber necklace is pressed between them, nestled in the crook between her shoulder blades and his chest, warm and reassuring as ever, a reminder of all that has passed and of all that may come.  

Jyn buries herself deeper into Cassian’s embrace. “I won’t…”

[smilemoreimagines]

i would never fall unless it’s you i fall into (Din Djarin/Reader)

Chapter 5

length: 2,561

author’s note: I'm almost done with the next chapter, but i will probably be moving from Canada back to the US within the next month so ummm wish me luck and hopefully there won't be a big wait while that's happening

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4

With a little one living in close quarters your days are starting earlier than you're used to, and by the time the three of you are walking to the market, apple pressed into your hand by Mando, you’re still rubbing sleep from your eyes. Mando had brought you closer to Maz’s Castle, another clearing in the woods giving cover to the ship, just a short walk through the trees. As you glance back once you catch the words Razor Crest II painted on the hull. 

“What happened to the original Razor Crest?” You wonder aloud as you bite into your apple. 

“It was destroyed,” the Mandalorian states matter-of-factly, and Grogu chimes in with a boom noise, opening his fists at the same time he makes the sound. “Yeah bud, it exploded,” Mando agrees, giving him another apple chunk.

“Was he there for it?” You ask in surprise before you can think better of the question, eyes flicking between the dad and his kid trailing along in his floating pod stroller-thing. He bounces excitedly in place among the pillow and blankets, froggy plush clutched in the hand not shoving fruit in his mouth, and chants, “Boom, boom, boom!”

“Yeah,” Mando confirms, voice growing hesitant, “He was with me at the time.”

Okay, you’ve obviously pried too much, so you shut up and eat your snack, offering a small smile when the blank visor of the helmet turns your way. The tension that showed in the set of his shoulders disappears, the man reverting back to his natural state of casual grace. Restrained power. You admire him for a moment when he looks away from you, but then you’re breaking through the treeline to the very large, already bustling market.

Rows and rows of vendors calling out their wares, wide aisles between the stalls packed with people shopping. Mando informs you that it’s a permanent market, so all the booths with clothing should be in the same area. You don’t tend to like crowds, so at least you won’t have to fight your way through the whole thing to gather what you need. 

As soon as you enter the fray your shoulders raise in tension, arms pinned to your sides trying to make yourself as small as possible as you’re bumped and jostled. The avenues are wide enough that space wouldn’t be an issue if people walked a little more orderly, but in this part of the galaxy? Not gonna happen. A quick glance behind you shows Mando and Grogu a few paces back, gait leisurely. You wish you could muster that kind of effortless calm.

Your lips twist into a tight smile, still unused to having other people around to keep track of in a crowd. When you face forward again you’re on guard and trying to be as out of the way as you can. You push through another tight throng of people and then it feels like the crowd thins out a bit. You let out a deep breath. Then feel a light touch on your upper back, whipping your head around only to relax again when you see it’s just Mando. The helmet tilts down to look at you and he gives a slight nod. You realize the crowd hasn’t thinned at all, they’re parting to make a path for the Mandalorian a single step behind you that’s turned on his aura of deadly power. Just a moment ago he’d been so casual. Did he do that just for you? 

Din would never admit it out loud, but he hated seeing you try to make yourself smaller. In the short time he’s known you it’s become clear to him that you don’t like loud, sudden noises. That you feel safer with routine and clarity. Which is the exact opposite of this market. It had made his chest ache when you walked right into the crowd even with your hackles so obviously raised, posture defensive. You flinched whenever there was a particularly loud shout or bang. Curled further in on yourself when anyone bumped into you too hard. He couldn’t do anything for you about the noise, but he could get people to give you space. 

Grogu looked at him curiously when he turned that part of himself on, the part that was intimidating, that brought attention to himself, the kind that made people give him a wide berth. It was something that he didn’t have to do very often anymore, now that he was trying to give his son a more normal life. A safer life. Din was still bounty hunting. Just not for much longer. 

Even with her so-called “best friends discount” Peli was still charging him an arm and a leg for his re-made ship. After the Crest was destroyed he tried to find a new ship that would work, but he found he didn’t like making do on the vehicle that was essentially his and Grogu’s home, so he’d commissioned Peli to remake her mostly the same but with some more livable upgrades, like the kitchenette. He knew that what he was asking would cost a fortune, and now with the ship done he was taking the last bounties he needed to finish paying it off. Then you showed up. 

You, who is now looking at him like he personally gave you the stars from the sky, and for such a simple favor. The relief of not being pressed in on all sides radiates from your face as you whisper a thank you like it’s a secret. Din likes how open you are in your emotions, however unintentional it may be. As a man who’s made his living from being able to read people well—to know if a quarry was actually complying or just biding their time to get the jump on him—it’s nice that he can tell from a glance what’s on your mind. He enjoys how straightforward you are, how earnest. 

In the few days that you’ve been on the Razor Crest II he finds his gaze drawn to you whenever you’re in the same room. You just have this… gravity to you. Sometimes you’ll ask questions or make little quippy comments and get him talking a bit, but you also don’t mind the silence that often settles between you. You are a quiet soul, and he’s finding comfort in that. 

And it’s plain to see how much that Grogu is growing on you, and vice versa. That’s part of why he threw the job offer on the table so quickly, because of this life he’s now trying to give his son. He wants him to be happy with whoever will care for him when Din can’t. And you’re a Jedi. Or at least, you have the powers of one. He needs to ask you more about that. If you can help his son learn more about his abilities. Din doesn’t understand much about the whole Force-magic thing or why Grogu’s attachment to him makes him unable to be a Jedi, but he still has the Force and in Din’s mind a power like that should be understood. 

Once you reach the section of stalls piled high with clothes and fabrics he tells you to get whatever you’ll need, that you shouldn’t worry over the cost. These last few bounties will cover the ship, but he’s been considering picking up a few more pucks so that him and Grogu can maybe stay in one place awhile, or explore the planets that Grogu has shown interest in. He’s decided now, and those credits will be for you as well. 

You who is all business right now, choosing practical things: underclothes, socks, shirts, pants. He watches as you run your fingers lightly over a colorful scarf, looking at it wistfully for a moment before moving on to the next stall. He recalls what you’d said the day after you jumped on his ship, when you’d woken up from a wound that could have easily killed you—that was still making you walk with a slight limp—taking stock of your ruined clothes and letting the blood-soaked and stained fabric fall to the floor. “That was my favorite thing.” 

The color of this one is soft, like light hitting a waterfall, a diluted rainbow. He’s paying for it and stuffing it in his pouch before you can notice he’s fallen behind, right at your side before you turn to ask him a question about something or other.

It can be disorienting, how your eyes always seem to land right on his own, even through the inky black of the visor. He knows it’s not possible, but still, the thought distracts him. Most people have a hard time picking a spot on the helmet to look, often wavering between his forehead and chin, but not you. Yet all the vendors you’ve talked to today you could hardly look them in the eye for more than a moment before getting fidgety and looking somewhere else. You’re an odd person, but he finds it more endearing than off-putting. 

“Mando?” You ask for the second time, ducking your head slightly as you look up at him. He’s been lost in his head for a minute, just kind of staring at you, or in your direction, anyway. He does that a lot, the staring—observing, to put it more politely—but usually he acknowledges you when you address him. He clears his throat as he refocuses and asks what you need. 

It’s silly and unimportant, surely more so than whatever he was thinking about, but you’ve been at this one vendor for multiple minutes trying to decide if it would be okay to get this dress or not. The fabric is soft and light, flowy and patterned with flowers. It reminds you of one you had as a teenager, one that was stained in blood and bad memories but that you still miss. 

“Can I get this?” You ask, the hesitance thick in your voice. “I’ve gotten everything else that I need, and I know it’s not practical, but…”

“Of course,” he says, interjecting when you trail off. 

You don’t know it, but he’d have a hard time denying you anything, when you ask that sweetly. It can be hard to connect the you that yelled at him for endangering his son to this shy, soft spoken creature, but here you are. A walking contradiction. Your smile is like sunshine breaking over your face as you thank him, and he finds his own lips curling up in response.

“Not everything needs to be useful,” he says to you as he pays, “Some things can just be pretty.” 

You laugh and respond, “And do you like pretty things, Mando? I bet you do. Maybe when I change into this you’ll sneak something nice too, something an actor in a holonet drama would wear. Am I right?” 

He just huffs that laugh that you’re coming to enjoy maybe too much and shoos you to the changing rooms at the end of this avenue. But when you come out wearing that dress, he thinks that maybe he does like pretty things. He certainly likes how you look. Your smile is bigger than he’s ever seen it, more genuine. You wear your feelings on your face, and right now he can’t see any of the pain that usually lives there. Mesh’la. Beautiful. You look beautiful. 

He needs to get these thoughts in check; you’re basically his employee. A strange concept for a man who’s spent most of his life alone, relying on only his own wits and skills to get by, but child-rearing is something that he knows is too important to just wing it. Grogu is his actual son now, not a foundling to be returned, his. And he wants to do the best job of parenting that he can, regardless if that means getting outside help. 

And now that you’ve got everything you need, Grogu decides to make himself known again. The little guy starts chirping, pointing further down the way at some kabobs roasting over a fire, the tone of his voice insisting it’s time for food, feed me now. You run a hand lightly over one of his son’s large ears, agreeing with him that it is probably lunchtime by now. His pod follows eagerly before overtaking you to beat everyone to the food as if it’ll disappear before he can get his little hands on it, Mando right behind both of you. 

When you go to pay for the food he tries to stop you, but you want to spend your few remaining credits from Tatooine on the little guy. “He’s so food-oriented,” you insist, not putting the credits back in your pocket but rather pointedly dropping them into the vendor’s hand, “He won’t be able to not like me if I get him his meal. And as his new nanny, I would like him to like me.”

As you’re being handed three kabobs, Mando can’t help but say, “He already adores you. Wasted your credits to get something you already have.” 

You just shrug. “It’s worth it.” And indeed, Grogu looks at you very happily as he stuffs cooked meat in his mouth, and you pull the kabob from his hands to force him to slow down. You try to hand one to Mando, but he just shakes his head, gestures to his helmet. 

“Oh, right,” you say, lightly smacking your hand to your forehead. You forgot he can’t eat in front of you. You hadn’t really thought about it since he’s mostly been in the cockpit where you can’t follow because of your leg, and he’s taken all of his meals up there. If you can even call them that. You snag some napkins before leaving the stall to find a place to sit and eat with the kid, wrapping the Mandalorian’s food so he can eat it later. He tries to tell you to split it with Grogu, that he’s fine, but you point out, “It can’t be good for you to live off of ration packs exclusively. You have a kitchen. Why don’t you keep real food?” 

Right. He’d specifically asked Peli to include one, but even though he has it he still mostly eats rations. And fruit, because Grogu loves it so much. It’s such an ingrained habit that cooking still feels like a bit of a waste of time. But he knows he should do better for Grogu. And you now, too. 

You find a fountain with some room on the wide rim for you to sit with his son on your lap. He hooks his thumbs on his belt, scanning the area for trouble. Finding none, he looks down at you, slowly managing to eat your food in between feeding Grogu. It is so very hard to fight the feeling of domesticity as he takes the rowdy little boy from you, especially with the smile of gratitude you throw his way for letting you eat. 

Din is already looking at you so he notices the moment your expression drops, jaw going slack before snapping up with a click to clench your teeth together, eyes wild and face growing so pale he’s worried you might pass out. He’s scanning the crowded square for danger, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary happening. Nothing to protect you or Grogu from. 

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

9. interlude: possibilities

A/N: Chapter 9 and the third interlude of this story!! Most of the chapters after this will be quite a bit longer than the others, I think, so I apologize if they take a bit longer to get out than usual, but I’ll still try my best to get them out as soon as I can!! I really enjoy writing these little snippets, they’re really fun, tbh, so I hope you guys like them, too. Not much to say in my little note right now, so onto the chapter!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot (kinda)

Summary: It’s not always our fault if we choose the wrong possibility. Sometimes, it’s the only one we’re able to make. Even if it means you take one step back instead of one step forward.

Tag(s): Breaking and entering (mention), breakdown

Song Inspiration: N/A

Word Count: 796

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

They say the world is full of possibilities. Anything can happen, anything is possible, nothing is impossible. Is the teacher going to give a pop quiz or announce a new project? Is dinner going to be turkey or chicken? Is that present going to be a new book or a new lego set? Some possibilities are connected to your own choices, but most of them aren't. Most of them are provided without anyone's say but that of the universe itself. There are those who claim it's unfair and try to force their own possibilities. People try to force control where there can be none. And in doing so, they actually push themselves farther away from the possibilities they want so much in the end.

Then there are some people who aren't even aware that they have possibilities in the first place. Some people just see one possible choice, one possible outcome, and nothing more, when maybe there's actually four or five of them. And when they choose the wrong possibility, they feel guilt, as if they did something wrong. At times it is, for those so blinded by their own mind that they aren't allowing themselves to see what's right there. And for others, it's the opposite, other people blocking their view or the path they've led up until that point not allowing the other possibilities to even be visible in the first place. The man frantically searching the dark house he had forced his way into is experiencing the latter.

"Tris!? Tristan!?" The blonde-haired man cries out for another. Around another corner. Back up the basement stairs. Through the kitchen once more. Up to the second floor. He's quickly dissolving into hysterics, despite how much he's trying not to. The two women in the house with him, waiting by the door, exchange looks of deep worry and concern. A hint of sadness to them both, slouched shoulders and dull eyes.

The blonde goes through every single room in the house, every single floor. He looks in each closet, in each cupboard, just in case. He presses at the walls and moves every bookcase as if expecting some secret door to be at each one. His breathing is quick and heavy, way faster than it should be, but he can't find it in himself to care. The women gasp as he throws a fist at the wall with an angry shout at the one who's caused his despair. The one who took his love away.

A sob escapes his throat and he falls back against the now broken wall, sliding to the floor as he curls in on himself. The pinkette and bluette move to his sides immediately, hoping to provide whatever comfort they can, even though they know it won't really help the man. He breaks down. Fully and completely breaks down. He's sure he's not done so in over a decade. He breaks down because the house is empty. In fact, the whole place is covered in a thin layer of dust, as if no one had been in it for weeks before they'd came and disturbed it. And he knows for certain now that he cannot live without the man he's lost. It's...impossible. How could he ever be without a person when it hurts this much to be? Or, a better question, how is it even possible to be this attached to one single person? How can someone, after just months of being in his life, carve such a large place for themselves inside his heart?

He knows now, without question, that he is in love with the man. It's the only explanation for how much pain he's in, as if his ribcage is being forced open and with every snap of bone, he's sinking deeper and deeper into dark, cold waters. And he has no idea if the snapping will ever stop or if it'll just continue until a hand can wrap around his heart and squeeze, stealing his entire life away from him. The man has no idea if he'll ever find his love again. Because this house is the only possibility he knows of. He doesn't know about the large weapon of a house hiding away in the middle of the woods. He doesn't know about the dark, soundless room or anything around it. He doesn't know that there's another possibility just hours away from him. Because his path never allowed him to. And now, because of that, all he can do is sit and cry in this barren living space, hoping that the man will return to him one day.

~*~

A/N: What do you guys think?? Everything’s gonna start connecting together real soon!! Lemme know your thoughts on this chapter!!

~*~

Tag(s):

@darkelf-7​

@ivyllamauwu​​

@toryhis​

[Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series and any other stories relating to it!!!]

[lunarasphodel]

What The Thunder Said: Chapter 5 Deleted scene

So, since chapter 5 was getting really long and this scene has very little plot significance, i cut it out. I still finished it tho, so here y’all go!

Same warnings as CH5: “concussion” symptoms, negative self talk, and fainting.

Keep yourselves safe, chapter is under the cut!

The next day was Cole’s turn to babysit, and they’d decided to just play videogames because it couldn't hurt, right? Well, not quite. As soon as the level had started, Jay got so dizzy he nearly threw up. So, with a tasteless joke about jumping off the Bounty, Jay was banned from videogames for the time being. And also from being above deck alone, but Cole didn't tell him that part.

Afterwards, Jay had sprawled across the entire length of the couch, havint tossed his legs over Cole’s to achieve this. Other than the surprise symptoms, it was surprisingly easy to keep Jay from hurting himself, considering how Jay seemed to lack any of his usual energy. And although it worried Cole to see Jay nearly despondent, instead of his usual bouncy, chatty self, he knew that the Blue Ninja had every reason to act this way. Especially since, from what Cole understood, he had some mystic brain damage or something.

So suffice to say that it wasn't too odd for him to be staring up at the ceiling from where he lay on the couch. Though he seemed perfectly content, Cole still worried endlessly about him, and this worry prompted Cole to check in with his friend for perhaps the millionth time.

“Are you sure youre alright? We can always do something else, if…” the Black Ninja trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“Yes, Cole,” Jay snickered, “I'm fine. Just tired, and you're fun enough just to listen to anyways,”

“Hey!” Cole scoffed in fake offense as a smile tugged at his lips, “what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means that you’re throwing shade to video game characters who can’t hear you, which makes you look deranged. It’s funny though, so keep it up.” Jay waved his hand for emphasis.

Cole shook his head with a laugh and turned back to the screen.

Truth be told, the light and noise was giving Jay a headache. He had thrown an arm over his eyes to block the light, but it only served as a burning reminder of Jay's time in the departed realm. So he settled to remove his arm and just squeeze his eyes closed to try and shut out the horrible flashing light.

Eyes still fixed on the screen, Cole’s voice arose to suggest “hey, after this level we should head to the kitchen, it’s almost lunch!”

Jay distractedly hummed an assent and moved his legs off of Cole's lap and onto the floor before using one arm to push himself up into a standing position. As soon as he moved, so did that now familiar dizziness. All of the blood rushed away from his head and black splotches crowded his vision and Jay reached out for the arm of the couch.

His fingertips brushed the worn fabric, and he pitched forward.

Cole briefly glanced up, eye caught by the motion. His muscles seized with terror as Jay fell, and Cole didn’t have to think before his body moved. The controller clattered to the ground, discarded, as the Earth Ninja practically threw himself off the couch to stop Jay from hitting the ground face first.

The man lunged, half tackling Jay before scooping the Blue Ninja into his arms and righting them both. Cole gingerly laid his partially-conscious friend back on the couch. Even though the Black Ninja was terrified, and way out of his depth, he knew he had to handle this. There was no use shouting for help, the other occupants of the bounty were either out running various errands, or much too far away to hear. So it was all on him… no pressure.

“Jay? Jay! Hey, you okay?” Cole asked, nudging Jay’s shoulder. The Blue Ninja only groaned in response, which did nothing for the buzzing anxiety in Cole’s heart. “Buddy I need you to talk to me, okay? Whats goin’ on?” As much as the Black Ninja tried to force down the panic invading his voice, there remained a small twinge of fear within his otherwise calm words.

“Hnng-” Jay whined incohesively, “Itsuhnubefine…”

Cole couldn't help but laugh at that, Jay was trying so hard to comfort him, even if Cole could barely understand a single word that fell from his friend’s lips.

“Blue- come on, I’m not the one who’s barely conscious. Just-” Cole let out a relieved sigh, “yeah, you'll be okay…”

You have to be.

The last bit went unsaid, leaving an empty space hanging in the air. Cole doubted that Jay noticed, hell, he kind of hoped Jay hadn’t. The Lightning Elemental showed no sign that he had understood, instead taking Cole’s silence as an opportunity. It only took another short moment before Jay was trying, not for the first time and certainly not the last, to get up.

Cole, on the other hand, was having absolutely none of that. As soon as Jay moved to prop himself up on one arm, Cole shoved him back down onto the couch. He didn't do it roughly, he hadn't needed to, all it really took was a light push to the shoulder to knock Jay back down.

By then, the Master of Earth could barely think through the heavy fog of worry that clouded his mind.

“Yeah. no.” was all Cole could think to say, it seemed to suffice, though, because Jay stayed down.

He didn't stay quiet though.

“But Cole! Im fine!” Jay whined, batting away his friend’s hand as it appeared by his wrist, seeking a pulse.

“No, you’re not! What's your deal, man? You need- no- Jay!” Cole finished with a frustrated groan.

This time, through pure stupid luck, Jay did manage to push himself up, just enough so that he could lean against the arm of the couch.

“No worries!” Jay grinned, tone laced with misplaced calmness, “see? I’m okay!”

Cole deadpanned, “bullshit. I'm gonna call Zane-”

Waving his hands around, Jay laughed tersely “No! No, no, no, theres no need for that! Like I said, totally fine!”

“Jay.” Cole scolded. His tone was firm, but not unkind. Not even anger could twist his cold fear into anything more than increasingly-potent distress, born purely of care.

Jay broke, then. At the audible anguish in his friend’s voice, he couldn't stand to dismiss this anymore. It was his fault that Cole was so upset, so worried, so sad sounding.

“Okay… its- It really isn't a big deal, it's not like I haven’t passed out before-”

“WHAT?” Cole shouted desperately.

Jay winced at the volume, “I said it's no big deal!”

He tried his best to placate the Earth Ninja, and failed miserably. There was a long silence where Cole refused to meet his eyes, and with every passing second that they sat there in a horribly tense silence, the dreadful sense that Jay had royally fucked up grew more and more.

Cole broke the silence, “How many times?”

Jays mind stuttered, “only… well, three, now.”

“Jay, its only been three days.”

He laughed awkwardly and averted his gaze, “yeah, I- yeah…”

Cole sighed and placed his head in his hands.

Ohh boy, I am soo screwed… Jay thought grimly. Someone, maybe not Cole, but someone, was gonna kill him for this.

When Cole spoke next, Jay could hardly stop himself from curling in on himself and hiding away from the world.

The man had sounded so heartbroken, and completely helpless when he asked; “Why didn't you tell us?”

With one breath, Jay considered lying again.

With the next, he let go and allowed the truth to all but rush out from his lips.

“I… I’ve already been so… useless, lately, and I didn’t want you guys to worry any more than you already have to, cause I know needing to take care of me sucks and I’m trying to get better so you guys don't have to keep babying me, cause, like, I know I’m the weakest of everyone but its not fair for you all to need to pull that extra weight, especially now that i'm even more useless than before and I just hate burdening you all so much and I just figured that if you didn't know about it then it would all turn out okay!”

Upon seeing Cole’s crestfallen expression, Jay tried to fix it. “Uh... or, something like that…”

This one moment of true honesty was never going to unfurl years and years of subtle white lies that have only spun a thin cocoon to protect Jay, his true feelings and fears, and keep them far away from anyone he could hurt. Jay knew that well, but at least he could do this. Even if it seemed like a mistake, even if it seemed like it had only hurt the ones he loved most.

Right as Jay was about to laugh it off, make some joke, completely invalidate everything he just admitted to, he was hit by a wall of warmth and smothered in a crushing embrace. After a moment of stunned hesitation, Jay returned the hug. He buried his face into Cole’s shoulder to try and force back the tears that burned behind his eyes. He didnt know why he was crying. He shouldn’t be. Neither man moved for a long moment, the stillness only broken by Cole’s soft words.

“Youre not useless, or weak, or a burden. You never were. We- I would take care of you for as long as you need, so long as you're here. Alive.”

The genuine worry-laced compassion in his friend’s voice tore Jay's heart and his careful facade finally shattered.

Before he could stop it, tears were falling from Jay's eyes like rain in a thunderstorm and soaking invisibly into the black fabric of Cole’s shirt. The same fabric that Jay twisted in his tight grasp as silent, stuttering sobs shook his newly fragile body.

Jay couldn't do it, couldnt do this. How was he meant to live with all his friends telling him how worried they were, how happy they were that he was alive, and how much they cared for him, only to leave them so soon. And leave them without any idea why, too. Maybe it’d make it easier for them if they knew the stakes. If they knew Jay had chosen this. Something told him that they'd suffer all the same. There was no good option, and it wasn't fair.

Jay curled further into the embrace as a fresh wave of tears fell.

Cole kindly indulged him until Jay was ready to let go. It took a while, even after Jay's tears dried and his breathing steadied, he couldn't make himself move away from the warm heartbeat that calmed his mind.

But once Jay finally did pull away, Cole didn’t fully let him go. He held the Blue Ninja at arms length and even though Jay refused to meet his eyes, he knew Cole was basically studying him.

Cautiously, the other man started, “when everyone gets back, I’m gonna tell Lloyd and Zane-“

“Cole-“

“No one else has to know unless you want them to. But Lloyd and Zane need to know.” The Black Ninja elaborated firmly, “Lloyd’s our leader, and whether you like it or not, it’s on him if you get hurt. Zane’s our acting medic now that you’re out of commission, so he needs to know too. Sound good?”

“No. But fine, tell them.”

“I will. Now, are you okay?”

“Everyone keeps asking that. Yes, Cole, I’m fine.”

“I still don’t believe you, but okay. Wanna put on something stupid and take a nap?”

Jay nodded, so Cole retook his spot on the couch and found some old movie for them to watch.

—

When the other three ninja returned from their weekly grocery run, Zane broke away for a moment to check in with the two who had stayed home. only to find Cole in the living room pinned beneath a sleeping Jay with a hand buried in the his friend’s hair. Zane softly laughed at the glare Cole shot him at the click of his camera.

The look didn't stick, because Cole waved him over and whispered for him to get Lloyd, which Zane did. Once they’d both returned, Cole launched into his hushed explanation of the day's events. He told them that Jay had passed out trying to stand up, and that it wasn’t the first time.

“I’m really worried about him, he kept talking about not wanting to be useless and weak and… I didn’t know what to do.” Cole frowned at his sleeping friend, “I can't believe he didn’t tell us…”

“It’s not too unexpected for Jay to have fainting spells, however, I agree. It’s quite worrying that he didn’t say anything about it.”

Lloyd just nodded along, worry etched into lines on his face as he tried to come up with some way to help Jay.

He drew a blank, “I really don’t know what to do if he won’t let us help him…”

“Oh! That’s another thing, he doesn’t want anyone else to know. He- he said he feels guilty about burdening us, but he didn't really listen when I tried to tell him otherwise…”

“And if he managed to hide this, it’s possible that there are other things that he’s not telling us.” Zane added thoughtfully, he didn’t mean for it to cause any more anxiety in the other two (waking) ninja, but they exchanged a mirrored look of cold fear at the possibility of some devastating unknown.

“I think we just need to keep a close eye on him for now.” Zane amended.

Lloyd and Cole both assented, already fixing their minds on ways to help their loved one. It’d be difficult to take care of him, especially when he fought them every step of the way, but they could all be just as stubborn when they wanted to be.

Maybe everything would turn out fine. Besides, once he was healed, everything could finally go back to normal!