#i’m doing what i can to help take down bad people and i strike from the shadows when least expected

[hot-astrology]

Thank you for sharing your experience! It's very inspiring & interesting to hear your story. I love your energy! We need more people like you out here! 🩷

The Aqaurius Mind: Pluto in Aquarius, Age of Aqaurius, and 2024

The recent events surrounding Katt Williams have stirred my interest, though this event barely scratches the surface of the cosmic workings. The year 2024 portends a great unraveling, as deciphered through its numerology (8) : the influence of Pluto looms over this year, with its placement in Aquarius.

This year's fixed energies signal transformation (Aquarius and Scorpio) and raw power (Taurus and Leo), with Uranus and Jupiter in Taurus and Pluto in Aquarius. The impact of the fixed signs will be significant and profound.

Saturn's presence in Pisces heralds a great awakening. ;I am reminded of my own natal Saturn in the 12th house, which imbues this area of spirituality with discipline and authenticity.Saturn brings discipline and realness to this area of spirituality. And this is what we will see happening for those who are already tapped in. For those who are not this is another great chance similar to 2020 to awaken.

Turning to Vedic astrology, Saturn is positioned in Aquarius this year. In 2020, this was such a huge alignment the only difference is there won't be a great conjunction. But I could see similar potency already. With certain things being spoken about, and if you haven't heard. It's because the government (Saturn) is trying to hide (pisces) a lot of this information away from society. We are fully in the age of aquarius, and things will only continue to get exposed. And no matter how much certain authorities try to hide or stop it. It won't stop until the FULL truth is revealed. No matter how many people are killed, and etc. More and more will keep popping up until the mission is done.

Now switching to tarot, because this is how I connect a lot of my dots. Referring back to my Taurus & Aquarius post, I put the 21st card (The world card) in there. This card consists of a lion (leo), Eagle (scorpio), Human (Aqaurius), and A Bull (Taurus). We see all of these energies being pulled towards us. The world card is the very last card in the tarot deck, and represents completion. Now I would like to turn this over to venuz because he knows more about the cycles and years and stuff. But, Before i do, I want to also talk about the 10th card in tarot. This is the wheel of fortune. This card signifies karma, destiny, and fate. The cycle of life. This card also resembles the world card but not in a way where things are ending. It shows how life goes on &; on. This card also has The lion, The Bull, The Human, and The Eagle. The four corners of the world/ The angels of the four directions. We see how that number 4 is so significant. These are cycles and Fixed is the last stage. Beyonce was right, America really does have a problem...... The Seal has been broken. ☺ Now, to you venuz.

Cycles......Yes, cycles! Everything evolves in cycles and changes, it's only so long you can stay in the same scenario or comfort zone without chaos knocking at your door. Aquarius is all about change and revolutionizing its surroundings and its people. This energy is at its boiling point. Every 20 years there's a recurrent cycle of same-aged groups with specific behaviors that change. So, if you add 3 more cycles to that it will be a 4 cycle switch, which every generation would affect the other. When the 80-year mark comes around it is a crucial period. Everything is done in cycles, it doesn't matter what it is. Saturn in Pisces will materialize everything you think of, or focus on. This will also bring about what you have been hiding, and not speaking. Thoughts of your subconscious will be brought to the surface, and some will have to face those fears. For Example, Katt Williams has known all of these lies, secrets, backstabbing, cheating, phony, and false allegations, so it's being materialized. All his thoughts, dreams, and deep-rooted issues about other comedians came out to the forefront without any care. As he spoke and exposed their behaviors in front of millions (mass 11th house) and demanded a change (pluto). This calls on the energy of Pluto in Aquarius.

Pluto in Aquarius loves erratic behavior and unexpected scenarios. Pluto comes with a punch and is at full throttle here. Many people are outspoken now and about change and freedom. Aquarius is all revolutionary and Pluto is a generational planet so change is bound to come. This is just the beginning of this world being destroyed and reconstructed into a new and profound system that isn't in line with these new powerful souls. This makes an 80-year period. 10 more years from now will make 90 years which is energy 9 which will be the completion of a major cycle. 8 is just the transformation period and reconstructing period, everything and everyone who wasn't living in their own essence and misusing their fortune, fame and financial abundance in a non conducive manner will reverse roles and be exposed for their inequality.

Like gorgeous Moon Devi said they're trying to hide what they're up to but Saturn in Pisces is revealing everything they have been hiding. So everyone wakes up to all those lies, takes off the rose-colored glasses, no more fantasy land, and is in a delusional state of mind. Pluto in Aquarius will allow everyone to have a voice and speak up, change what's not right, and stand for something even if you never did your whole life. If you were born in this era or if you were born to still be alive in this era get ready for the showdown. If watched in Living Color, this movie promises to be a captivating experience, delivering the answers to long-standing questions and revealing hidden truths. It has the potential to evoke personal fears, making them tangible and forcing introspection. It's a crucial time for everyone, not just celebrities or elites, to focus on self-healing, purification of the soul, and actualizing personal aspirations. Astrologically, the influence of Aquarius, which rules the 11th house of hopes and aspirations, and Pluto provides the necessary impetus to transform negative situations into positive ones, for oneself and the greater good.

However you envision your world to be, you will get the results in this transit. Imagine yourself as a kid at the art table, and you have a box of crayons, an blank piece of paper. The teacher tells you to draw your new world. How would you create it? Would it consist of peace, prosperity, and love? Then she says," Stand up in front of the class, and explain what your world looks like." You say it out loud in front of the class with conviction and power. Then you close your eyes and watch it manifest right before you, VOILA!!! 

From two aqaurius/uranus dominant spirits, ~ Prinz Venuz & Moon Devi

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐳 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢

[saucingitup]

Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long

June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.

Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.

The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.

From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.

And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.

Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.

I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.

People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.

They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.

This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment. 

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze. 

 König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others. 

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!” 

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect. 

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up. 

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child. 

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru. 

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes. 

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest. 

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!” 

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away. 

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!”  König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture. 

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you,  König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you. 

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt. 

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny. 

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone. 

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge. 

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.” 

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction. 

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl. 

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance. 

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.” 

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!” 

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience. 

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done. 

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling. 

Evolve, or die. 

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later. 

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.” 

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants. 

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA. 

The Lieutenant is one of them. 

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead. 

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t. 

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact. 

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself. 

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins. 

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.  

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was. 

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding. 

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed. 

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes. 

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide. 

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady. 

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire. 

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock. 

Your finger slams into the trigger. 

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself. 

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König. 

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary. 

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. 

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch. 

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later. 

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure. 

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König. 

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone. 

Anyone but you, that is. 

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter. 

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced. 

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down. 

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm. 

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?” 

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment. 

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour. 

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you. 

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence. 

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up. 

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh. 

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest. 

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.” 

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given. 

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly. 

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.” 

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?” 

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

 König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?” 

He freezes, muscles going taunt. 

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?” 

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away. 

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate. 

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit. 

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over. 

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side. 

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air. 

König kneeled to you and bared himself. 

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this. 

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood. 

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug. 

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning. 

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he. 

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame. 

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears. 

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him. 

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat. 

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English. 

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril. 

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust. 

You find none. 

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening. 

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words. 

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize. 

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized. 

For you to come back to him. His partner. 

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths. 

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

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[nvieditz]

Bad Decisions

Hey everyone, this is my first story so please go easy on me haha. I hope to write more stories in the future (and im already thinking of writing a part two of this story 😊) but I would love to hear from you what you think and if you have any requests I would love to hear them :).

warnings: Smut 18+ (minors dni) , public sex, strap use, fingering, cunnilingus, sub reader. (sorry if i missed anything) (4k+ word count)

“Babe hurry up in there!” Your friend calls from outside the bathroom you’re getting ready in. 

“Almost done!” You yell back to her.. You finish putting your lip liner on and topped it with a clear gloss. It’s the first time you’ve gone out in months and you’re ready to put yourself out there again. 

You wanted to go in with the mindset of just looking for something fun, nothing serious since your last long term relationship ended very very badly. 

The wound was still fresh so you brush it off before spraying your perfume on yourself and looking at yourself for a moment.

You looked good and you knew it. Dark smoky eye with a slick back bun and dark red lined lips and a little black dress accentuating all your curves. You walked out feeling confident.

“Ugh you look so good babe you’re gonna have all the girls on their knees for you” your friend Ana jokes.

You’re visiting her in Barcelona and are excited to hit one of the biggest lesbian clubs in the city. “I hope so, I need a good distraction.” You laugh. 

“Well we’re gonna get you one,” Ana says, “and I have a surprise for you to help you do that.” she winks before grabbing a black box that was sitting on her counter and hands it to you. 

You look at it in shock, “Really, you got me a strap-on?” you laugh. You take it out of the box and can’t help but blush at the sight of it. 

“Hey, you don’t want to use some random girl’s strap that she probably used on 10 girls before you. Wouldn’t want you to catch something.” she whispers jokingly. 

You reluctantly put it in your purse, stuffing it all the way at the bottom of tour purse because that’s embarrassing to be carrying around. 

She grabbed her coat and her keys, “Shall we?” she asks as she opens the door.

You follow her and head out of her apartment and head outside to where your uber was waiting for you. 

When you get to the club you see a lot of people in line but luckily you made sure you guys were on the list previously to get in fasted, since Ana’s ex girlfriend (and current friend) works at the club. 

You made it in no problem and the music was loud, led lights flashing while the whole place was dark yet it seemed like the most fun place you’ve ever been to. 

You look around trying to find some hot girls who could catch your eye but no luck on first glance. 

The place was two floors, the entrance was on the second one and there were couches and more secluded areas on the top floor, looking over the dance floor on the first floor and the bar down the stairs. You headed down to the main dance floor and bar area and claimed a small table. 

You set your bag down, “I can grab us some drinks,” you slightly yell to Ana as she sat down. She nods and you head over to the bar. 

There’s a small gap in between people at the bar and you squeeze in there, waiting for the bartender to get over to you. 

As you wait you feel eyes on you. You turn slightly to your left to see a (very much taller than you) blonde in a white shirt and leather jacket who was staring at you, hard. 

“You can take a picture it’ll last longer,” you tease as a way to let her know you caught her staring at you. She laughs slightly and it’s. so. hot. 

“A picture could never capture how gorgeous you look,” she winked back. Her thick Spanish accent rattling your core. You feel yourself blush at the compliment. “Are you here by yourself? A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be here by herself.” she smirks. 

You smile and look down shyly. Her piercing hazel eyes striking straight to your core. “I’m here with my friend actually. I came to get her a drink.” You gesture slightly to where Ana is sitting waiting on her phone for you to bring the drinks over. 

The girl looks over at Ana, then back to you. “You girls should join me and my friends. We have one of the couches upstairs booked. It’s a lot more… comfortable than it is down here.” she says confidently. 

Her boldness is refreshing. And it drove you mad. And the worst part is that you just met her but she seems to have you in full control. Not liking that feeling, you decide to bring matters back into you own hands, for a second at least. 

“Well… I think before I can say yes… I have to know your name. Can’t have you being some serial killer or something.” You joke. 

She laughs gently before looking straight into your eyes. “Alexia,” she extends her arm as if looking for a handshake. 

You can’t help but laugh at the idea of a handshake in this situation. You take her hand and shake it before responding with, “y/n”. you smile.

She pulls her hand away and her eyes rake down your body quickly before saying, “Well… we better get you those drinks.” she smiles. 

She orders a beer before you order your strawberry daiquiri and ana’s mezcal. You head over to the table where Ana is and hand her her drink. “Change of plans, we’re going to a couch upstairs with my new friend” you say before gesturing over to Alexia by the bar. 

Ana flashes you a knowing smile and picks up her things before following you over to Alexia. You follow behind her as you all head up the stairs and get to the slightly secluded room area where Alexia’s friends were. 

You walk in and see a group of five girls who were all so attractive it seemed like a joke. 

The one woman with shoulder length brown hair and tattoos that seemed to never end looks at Alexia and says “Andale Alexia, te vas por 5 minutes y regresas con dos chicas bien guapas” she laughs. 

You understand most of what she said and you let out a small chuckle both from embarrassment and also flattery. “Muchas gracias” you joke back at the woman. 

Alexia smiles at you and says, “These are my friends Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, Salma and Claudia.” she gestures to each of them as she says their name. 

You look over at Ana and you can tell she already has her sights set on the girl named Ona and let out a small laugh. “I’m Y/N and this is Ana,” you respond. 

Alexia looks at you, “Take a seat, join us,” she says as she sits down. When she sits down her shirt lifts up a little bit and a defined set of abs peeks through and your breath hitches. 

You sit down in the spot next to her and Ana has already say next to Ona. The music was loud enough that you could all have your private conversations and not hear each other so you took the chance to ask Alexia, “so, who are they? are you guys from a like hot lesbian modeling group or what?” you joke. 

Alexia laughs, “They’re my teammates, I’m a footballer,” 

You’re honestly not surprised, they all look very athletic, “Ah that’s fun, what do you do for work?” you ask. 

Alexia laughs shyly again, “No, I mean I’m a professional footballer , that’s my job.” she responds strongly, almost surprised. 

“Oh shit no way. That’s so cool. Would I know the club or team or whatever you guys play for?” You ask, genuinely interested. 

“Fc Barcelona?” she asks, “You may have heard of it.”

“Oh my god,” you respond now realizing the level of professional football she plays, and your mind accidentally wondering about how much money she makes. “I- wow. A professional athlete huh? Suddenly you’re like 10 times hotter than you already were,” you tease 

Her eyes darken when you say that and she looks in your eyes, “Well maybe we should act on that,” she teases back and she leans closer to you. 

You inch closer until your faces are impossibly close. She takes one of her hands and she gently takes the back of your neck and kisses you. Slow but deep. 

You let yourself get carried away by her kiss as it becomes more passionate, and searching. But you remember you’re around all of her friends and you break the kiss. “Come with me” you whisper. 

And suddenly she’s following you like she was your little puppy dog. You feel her friends watch you as you leave the space, your hand in hers leading her to the downstairs area. 

You find a small hallway next to the bar area and let go of her hand and turn to face her. You give her a teasing look and she acts on it immediately. Leading you towards the wall until your back was against it, she kisses you again, this one was more needy and fervent. You feel her large (not that you looked) hands grab onto your hips. One of her hands trailed down to find your thigh and pushed it up so your leg lifted off the ground and her hand started slowly wandering up and down your thigh. 

You let out a small moan into the kiss when you felt her gently squeeze your ass. She smiled against the kiss knowing she was driving you crazy. Your hips mindlessly started slowly grinding against her. You felt her hand slowly start to caress your inner thigh and your movements stop as your breath hitches.

The rough feeling of her hands on your soft skin was mesmerizing and you couldn’t care less that you were in a public space, you needed her to touch you. And no one could see you in this hallway. Her hand trailed further and further up your thigh. She moved her kiss to your neck leaving small kisses and sucks on your neck that elicited small moans from your mouth. All while her hand was inches away from where you needed it. 

Her kisses on your neck became more intense and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. Her hand finally reached your underwear  and she paused her kisses to ask you softly. “Can I touch you? ” she whispered in your ear. 

All you could let out was a breathy “yes” when you suddenly felt her hand push your panties out of the way to reach your warmth. She goes back to kissing your neck while her fingers slowly tease you before pressing a finger on your clit. 

You let out a moan as soon as she touches your clit, her fingers moving in small circles around your bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet for me” she growls as she speeds up her movements. Your leg wraps around her back as you start to grind against her hand, chasing the orgasm you so desperately need.  

“Please” you softly say to her, needing more. 

“Please what baby?” she teases 

“I need you, your fingers,” you manage to say in between gasps. 

She doesn’t seem to be in the mood to tease you for very long, whether that’s for fear of getting caught or maybe she’s just as desperate as you to get you to your climax. Her thick fingers dip into your entrance and she starts pumping them. Slowly at first. She goes back to kissing you as she picks up speed. Swallowing your moans in your kisses. 

Her pace quickens and her fingers start to curl. Your hands grip her shoulders as an attempt to keep yourself upright as you feel your legs getting weak as she brings you closer and closer to your orgasm 

You break the kiss as your breathing picks up, “please, i’m so close, don’t stop.” you whisper to her. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty begging for me.” she responds as she picks up her pace even more and her fingers curl perfectly, hitting the spot you needed most. 

You feel your climax come over you as your mind goes black and you let out a loud moan, no longer remembering where you are. Your legs tremble as she keeps guiding you through your orgasm, her fingers not faltering from their pace until you come

down from your orgasm. Your head falls back against the wall as you take deep breaths. You feel her fingers exit you and she adjusts your underwear. 

You let your leg fall from around her back to help hold you up. You take deep breaths. Your mind gets pulled away from your high coming down when you see Alexia sucking her fingers that were just inside of you. She then brings you in for another kiss, softer this time. 

“You look so pretty when you cum for me.” she whispers to you before kissing you again. You moan against the kiss from the effect of her words on you and the fact that you can taste yourself on her lips. 

“Can we go somewhere more private?” I break the kiss and ask. 

She smiles before she says, “We can go back to my place,” her eyes darken again, “if you want?” 

“Ok” I whisper back. 

“Let me get us an uber,” she says. 

You take this opportunity to text Ana 

Is it ok if I leave with Alexia, will you get home safe? Let me know when you’re home. 

She responds almost instantly 

Don’t worry about it, I’m bringing someone home with me tonight 😉 Have fun 

You smile at the message 

“Ready to go?” You hear Alexia say. 

You follow her out of the club and she opens the door of the uber for you. You slide in and sit as you watch her get in the car on the other side. 

A few minutes into the car ride you feel Alexia’s hand on your thigh. Slowly moving up and down. Suddenly the car ride felt like the longest car ride of your life. 

When you finally get to her apartment building you rush to get out of the car and follow her inside. 

The sight of the building confirmed how much money you thought she made and you laughed to yourself gently. 

You finally reach her apartment and it’s not even when the door is fully closed yet that she pulls you in for another passionate, needy kiss. 

She then surprises you with her strength and lifts you off the ground, without ever breaking the kiss. Your legs wrap around her body as she carries you over to her room. She sets you down on her bed and she backs away from you and looks at you. 

“Fuck you’re so hot” she says while undressing you with her eyes. 

This was everything you could’ve hoped for tonight. A ridiculously fit athlete wanting to fuck the brains out of you is a perfect distraction from your recent moping over your failed relationship. You were so present in this moment. 

She steps closer to you and stands directly in front of you. She puts her arms at your side and kisses you. She pulls away to whisper, “Let me taste you.” 

“You don’t even have to ask,” you tease back. 

You didn’t even have to wait another second before she was on her knees on the floor in front of you, pushing your legs open. She pushes your dress up and you lift your hips to allow for her to push up to above your hips. 

Her fingers hook around the waistband of your thong and tugs them down. You’re on full display for her and you love this feeling. “Mm you’re so wet for me aren’t you.” 

Her words drive you crazy, “All for you” you breathe out. 

She slowly starts pressing kisses to your inner thigh, teasing you. Your breath starts to pick up as she moves closer and closer to your center. But she draws this out. Switching to the other leg and continues just kissing and sucking on your soft skin. 

“Fuck” you breathe out, “Please, I need you.” 

She hums against your skin “How badly do you need me?” 

With those words she licks up your slit quickly just to tease you. You gasp as she does that. “Use your words baby,” she says looking at you. 

You think about it for a second before saying, “I need you to make me cum like I never have before.” 

After you say that her eyes darken again. Seems like she likes a challenge. And as soon as that happens she brings her mouth to your core. Slowly starting to lick through your folds just to taste you. Your head falls back and you rely on your arms to keep you upright. 

Her tongue starts making small circles around your clit and oh my god this girl eats pussy like it’s her job.  You’ve never felt so worked up so quickly. She sucks and kisses your clit while her tongue continues teasing it and the noises that’s making are quite pornographic but you couldn’t care less. Your moans become a string of curse words mixed with her name. 

She picks up speed around your bundle of nerves and introduces a finger to your entrance, slowly pumping in and out. You moan loudly as she does this and your hand goes to grab her hair, pushing her deeper to where you need her. The movement by her tongue does not slow down and she introduces a second finger, pumping faster and faster. 

You feel yourself tighten around your fingers as you know you’re getting close. 

“Fuck Alexia! That feels so good.” 

Your words encourage her to pick up her pace. Her tongue puts more pressure and her fingers curl in. 

“Fuck I- I’m so close” you moan out followed by a string of moans. 

Her impressive pace continues but her mouth breaks away quickly to whisper “Cum for me baby.”

The words and her mouth back on your clit send you over the edge. Your arms give out and your back hits the mattress as your orgasm hits you. You can’t even tell how loud you’re moaning through your orgasm as she continues her movements while you cum all over her fingers. Your legs tremble against her as you come down from that high. 

You feel her fingers leave your entrance and her mouth stops once you’ve completely come down. She climbs on the bed on top of you and kisses you. Her lips taste like you and her tongue swipes your lips looking for entry and you can’t get enough of the mix of the taste of her lips with the taste of your juices. 

“Fuck.” you breathe out. “What are we still doing wearing all these clothes.” you joke as you catch your breath. 

She laughs while she pushes herself off of the bed. “I can help you with that,” she says before extending a hand to you to help you get up.

You take her hand and she helps pull you up. She turns you around so you’re facing away from her. She starts to unzip your dress, slowly. Your body tingles at the sensation and the thought of her seeing all of you. Once the dress is unzipped she pushes the straps off of your shoulders so it falls to the floor underneath you joining your panties. 

She then quickly unclasps your bra and you toss it on the floor as well. You then turn to look at her and her eyes trail down your body, the same darkened look in her eyes. 

You interrupt her staring at you, “Well it’s unfair that I’m completely naked and all of your clothes are still on.” You say as you tease the bottom of her shirt. 

She smiles at you before quickly taking her shirt off, revealing that she was not wearing a bra which made your breath hitch. 

Holy six pack 

This girl was absolutely shredded and your mind thought of how good it would feel to grind on those abs. Your mind was pulled away tho when she unzipped her jeans and stepped out of them. 

Suddenly you remember the little “gift” that Ana gave you earlier tonight and Alexia could tell you had something in mind. “What is it?” 

“I have an idea,” you step over to where you mindlessly threw your purse and grabbed the strap. 

Alexia looked very surprised but then her gaze turned completely dark with desire. She finally took off her own underwear and stepped over to you.

Your eyes wandered down her body and everything about her blew your mind. 

How could someone be built like this. 

She grabs the strap from you, “Well, what could we possibly do with this?” she teases before inching closer to you. 

You decided to be straightforward because you were too turned on to let her drag this out. “I want you to fuck me with it. Roughly,” you state as if it’s the most normal sentence you’ve ever said. 

Suddenly her lips crash into yours. This one more desperate than the others. Then she pulls away. She steps back to start expertly putting on the harness and you stand against the wall watching her expertly do so, making you wetter by the second. 

You walk over back to the bed and sit on the edge. She walks over to you, “Turn around,” she demands. You love where this is going so you follow her orders. 

Now you’re on your hands and knees on the bed as she places herself behind you. You feel her grab your hips and pull you close to her. You suddenly feel her fingers move through your folds, gathering your slick and putting it on the strap to get it ready. 

You look to the side of the room and realize there’s a mirror there so you can see everything she’s doing. 

This is gonna be fun.

After what felt like forever, you feel the tip of the strap lined up with your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath as you feel it start to slowly enter. 

She slowly pushes deeper into you, making sure not to go too fast and hurt you. Her hands guide your hips as she completely fills you. 

You feel so full and your mind goes cloudy. Slowly she pulls out of you but not all the way, and pushes back in. The slow pace drives you mad. 

“You look so pretty taking it all for me,” she growls. 

“Please, keep going,” you gasp out as you can’t take the tantalizingly slow pace. 

With that her speed picks up. You begin to moan louder the faster she moves. Your hand grips the sheets. 

“Oh fuck,” you scream out as she starts to pull your hips towards her so she can get even deeper inside of you. 

You look over to the mirror and the sight you see is incredibly pornographic and incredibly hot. The sight of her abs flexing as she pumps into you pushes you even closer to the edge. 

“Así te gusta verdad?” she growls out. 

The sound her her speaking Spanish makes your thoughts cloudy. “Si,” you moan out. 

Her speed somehow becomes even faster and your arms give out. Your head now on the mattress and her hands keep your hips up and her pace never falters. 

“Fuck, Alexia don’t stop” you practically scream out. Your nails now digging deeper into the mattress.

The new angle hits even deeper into you and now you don’t know how loud you’re screaming. 

One of her hands move from your hips to your back. You can tell she’s started to chase her orgasm as well and the thought of that pushed you closer and closer. 

“I’m so close, please don’t stop,” you moan out as you feel yourself tighten around the strap. She picks up her pace even more and your orgasm takes over. Your eyes roll back and your mind goes blank as you scream out in pleasure. Her movements don’t falter as you come down from your orgasm because she is close to her own orgasm too. She keeps her incredible pace and you’re feeling overstimulated but you want her to cum so you let her keep going. 

Her moans are a sound you think you want to never stop hearing. Finally she reaches her climax and her pace slows down. She slowly pulls out of you and your hips fall down to the bed. You roll over to lay flat on your back and you close your eyes to relax yourself. 

You didn’t hear or feel Alexia get on the bed next to you but you feel her kiss your shoulder and you smile, still breathing heavy. 

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she whispers against your skin. 

The question brings back exactly why you wanted a distraction. You needed to get your mind off of your ex and the last thing you needed is to start something new. No matter how tempting it sounded. 

You sat up quickly. “No I should go home,” you got up and started gathering up your clothes. You hold your clothes in front of you naked body, suddenly feeling exposed. 

“Can I use your restroom first?” you ask turning around to see the disappointed look on her face. 

“Yes, of course,” she points to the door on your right. You quickly use the restroom and put your clothes back on. You grab your phone and get an uber which is conveniently only 5 minutes away. 

You step out of the bathroom and Alexia has thrown on a big t shirt and is sitting on the bed with her phone in her hand. 

Fuck she looks so pretty like that.

You push those thoughts away because you need to leave. 

“Thanks um, this was really good,” you smile. 

She still seems disappointed that you’re leaving so abruptly but you don’t want to get into what’s making you leave like this. “Yeah it was,” she says sincerely.” “Um, get home safe.” 

“Thanks,” you grin before stepping out of her room and into the living room and kitchen area. You reach the front door and step out of the door. 

Well that definitely was a good distraction 

Your heart feels heavy as you walk away. 

extra: thank you for reading! let me know if you want a part 2 (i’ll probably write it anyway haha i have some fun ideas for this) and let me know if you have any suggestions for me :))

[lulunothulu]

“Up in the Air”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: You’re still mad(kinda) at Tyler and his stupid handsome face. You’re so mad, you run into trouble’s way—trouble being a rowdy man at a bar and your mind.

Contents: man feeling you up, protective Tyler, fluff, swearing, eluding to anxiety, Happy Ever After

Word count: about 2k?

You had just walked into the local bar trying to get out of the bad storm. The parking lot was full but you managed to squeeze the Storm Par truck into a slot right next to the biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

Tyler Owens.

You rolled your eyes when you turned to your head to the right to see him, Boone, and Ben wave at you with sweet smiles.

Sure, Tyler was a handsome looking man. And sure, it made your heart flutter that he smiled at you. But god damnit, you would not be letting that reckless asshole in.

Not again at least.

See, you used to be part of the Tornado Wranglers. You loved it…that was until you and Tyler broke up.

Call it creative differences. He wanted to be reckless, you wanted to live.

Now sitting at the bar and sipping on your drink, the blaring music and people chattering fill your ears. To your right, a man in his late fifties taps on your shoulder, causing you to face him.

“Can I help you?” You ask, face schooled in indifference.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He slurs. His face is greasy and hair (if you could call it that) is matted on top of his shiny head. He’s thin, and the smells of whiskey emanate from his breath and pores.

You scrunch up your nose and frown. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

You begin to stand and walk away when he grabs your arm, tightly.

“I’m talking to you, bitch.” You face him, ready to land a punch but realize you’re no match. He’s tall, towering over you like a predator ready to strike.

He pulls you close, your body stiffening against his. When you feel the poke of his erection, you know it’s time to get out of this situation.

“Let me go,” you order calmly.

“Nah, I wanna get to know you,” he tells you, hand snaking down to your ass and squeezing firmly.

“Well, I don’t want to get to know you.” You firmly press a hand on his chest but his grip tightens around you.

You’re panicking. Does no one see you trapped in this man’s embrace? His hand is still on your ass for crying out loud.

“Let go of me!” You yell.

“Hey!” You hear to the right. You turn your head to see a stern-faced Tyler walking toward you and the man. “Let go of my girlfriend!”

“She’s your girlfriend?” The man drawls, looking between you and Tyler.

“Yeah, and I’d really appreciate it if you let her go.” Tyler crosses his arms over his chest, Boone and Ben standing on either side of him.

The man scoffs but throws you into Tyler’s arms. “Take the bitch then. She wasn’t being fun for me anyway.”

You push away from Tyler’s embrace after the man walks off to harass another poor girl. “I could’ve handled it.”

“Right, it looked like you were handling things very well.” He scoffs. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Storm Par sent me to do some analyses on a tornado that’s gonna hit later this week. What’re you doing here?” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tyler smiles before stepping close to you and saying, “I’m chasing that same tornado. It’s supposed to be the fastest and worst one this season. Towns are gonna need our help.”

“Right and I don’t suppose you’re going to chase said tornado are you?” You ask, taking a step back.

Tyler takes another step toward you before smiling that devilish grin you loved so much.

“Of course we are.”

You roll your eyes and look to his left before breaking into a smile and saying, “Hi Boonie.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he replies. “I miss you.”

“I miss you guys too,” you truthfully tell him. You turn to Ben and smile. “Hi Ben, are they treating you okay?”

“Are they giving me heart attacks in a daily, you mean?” He responds, his English accent twittling in your ears.

You smile before shaking your head. “So nothing’s changed, I see.”

“That’s not true,” Boone cuts in. “Tyler’s got a new harness just in case.”

“Boone…” Tyler warns.

“After you almost flew out of the truck last year, he had them installed.” Boone continues. “You should come test them out.”

Your heart begins beating rapidly at that.

You didn’t like talking about what happened the last time you went storm chasing with the Tornado Wranglers.

It had been a normal chase, Tyler had just set off the fireworks and you were all having a pretty great time—save for the warnings you gave Tyler earlier that day.

That was, until the tornado became stronger. Turning from a F2 to an F5 in a matter of seconds. The pull was so strong, you barely had time to react when you began flying out the window. Luckily Tyler grabbed your legs before you could fully be sucked out.

But then the tornado flipped the truck and you were almost cut in half by the speed of all. Had Tyler listened to you earlier that morning, you all would’ve never been put through that situation. 

You halfheartedly smile at Boone before shaking your head. “I don’t think so. But thank you, at least now you guys will be safe.”

You turn and look at Tyler when you say that last part before telling him, “Thanks for saving me, but I think I’ll be leaving now.”

You begin to walk away, hearing Tyler call your name. Eventually, you reach the front door and swing it open to see the heavy rain turned into a lightning storm.

Panic begins to settle then. The lightning and strong winds bring you back to that moment when you thought you were going to die. The feel of Tyler’s hands on your ankles and his terrified screams muffle your ears.

Not again, I can’t be in a storm. I shouldn’t drive in this.

“Y/N! Get away from the door!” Tyler yells from behind you, but you can’t hear anything. It’s only when thunder cracks, that you’re shaken out of the frozen state you were in.

Tyler’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you close to him, his warm and hard body familiar against yours.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He berates you. “You can’t leave, that storm’s getting worse.”

His hard eyes searches yours, finding the remains of panic you were just in and softening. His arms instinctively squeeze you tight to him, one hand on your lower back and the other on the back of your head.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine,” you lie.

Tyler frowns, before hoisting you on his shoulder and carrying you to the back of the bar.

“What the hell? Pull me down!” You scold.

Tyler ignores you, walking into the single stall bathroom before locking the door and setting you down gently.

“Talk,” he demands. “And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. I know you, Y/N.”

You sigh and lean against the sink. “It’s the storm.”

“What about it?” He asks. “You’ve probably seen hundreds of storms like this.”

“It reminds me of that day.”

You don’t even need to say what day, he already knows. He crosses the small room and places a hand on your waist the other on your cheek.

“I’m still so sorry,” he starts, practically whispering. “I’ve regretted it for the past year and four months.”

You chuckle. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Not of how long it’s been since that day,” he starts. “But of how long you’ve been away from me and not in my arms.”

“Tyler…”

“No, Y/N,” he interrupts. “I’ve been thinking about that day for so long just analyzing everything that I could’ve done to prevent it from happening.”

He shakes his head and steps away from you to pace the bathroom.

“I should’ve paid attention to the radar, to Lilly’s warnings, to you,” He continues. “You warned me that morning and I didn’t want to listen. I thought I would be able to handle it. I should’ve just listened to you when you told me you felt like that day was gonna get bad. I let my pride get in the way and it almost cost me your life.”

He stops, turning to you with tearful eyes. “It cost me us and for that, I’ll suffer for the rest of my life.”

“Ty,” you start, cold heart melting and warming for the man you once loved—still love. You always loved him, even after that day. “I chose to leave because I thought that was best. I thought if I left, I would be able to heal from whatever trauma was lingering. But now that I’m here with you, I think I realize that it wasn’t space I needed. It was you.”

You cross the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling his arms around your waist. You knew he meant every word he said and couldn’t help but fall for him again. You knew admitting that must’ve been hard for him, Mr. Prideful. So for him to even say it at all… you knew what you had to say in response.

“I forgive you.” You tell him. “I forgave you a long time ago. Now you have to forgive yourself.”

The tears come then, from both you and Tyler’s eyes. Those were the three words you’ve been waiting to say, and him hear.

He holds you, afraid you’ll walk out of his life and you hold him, never wanting to leave again.

“I promise I’ll try not to be so reckless,” he whispers into your hair. “And to listen to you when you tell me something’s wrong.”

“Good,” you smile. “Because I promise not to leave again.”

[pipwritesoccasionally]

midnight emotions (two little lines pt. 2)

in which your stepson has a bad dream and you feel guilty.

this one has less to do with your pregnancy but it is still relevant!

toji x reader (same stuff from last time applies, technically AFAB because of pregnancy but it's also a world with sorcery so I am not here to stop AMAB people. kept it pretty gender neutral, but let me know if it doesn't seem like it.)

wc: 850

pt. 1 pt.3

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

the darkness floods your eyes as you blink awake for the second time that night. body aching, you roll over, feet fluffing the carpet of you and toji’s bedroom. your arms reach up, exposing your growing stomach to the cold air. 

as you stand, the bed creaks, and you hear your husband groan. 

“doll?” his voice is low from sleep, and you place your hand on his arm. 

“i’m good. i just have to pee.” 

“again? you went two hours ago,” you’d never think that toji could be so whiny, but it sure was a very cute surprise. 

“babe, a whole human is growing next to my bladder. i’m going to be peeing all the time for the next few months,” you chuckle, and you hear him roll over on the bed. 

“fine. see you soon.” 

with that, you begin your walk to the bathroom, able to navigate the dark hallways perfectly after following this routine for weeks. after doing your business, you walk back down the hall, but this time you find that it’s much easier. 

in fact, there’s a light on in one of the bedrooms, which you quickly discern to be megumi’s. you knock, hearing a little “come in” on the other side. 

“megumi? what are you doing up?” you whisper, seeing him sitting up in bed. he furiously rubs his hands with his face, and the sight brings tears to your eyes. 

“i…had a bad dream.” he says, his little voice full of sadness. you move to kneel next to his bed, hoping to reassure him. 

“what happened? you can talk to me about it, if you want. or i can get your dad if you’d prefer.” he shakes his head, but still seems to hesitate. 

“dad’s not going to…leave us, will he?” worry strikes through you. 

“never. what would make you think that?”

“i don’t know, i guess i just wish we could see him more. he’s always pretty busy and only comes home for dinner.” another tear falls down his little face, and you can feel one mirror on your own. curse your hormones. 

“he’s busy, yes, but it’s because he’s trying to provide for you as best as he can. he just wants you to be happy,” megumi nods, but you can see that there’s still something on his mind. 

“it’s just that…when the baby comes, will he still have time for us?” your heart brakes at his statement, guilt shattering you. 

“of course he will. i promise you that he will always have time for you. he can be gruff, but he loves you.” 

“pinky promise?” he holds his little pinky out, and you immediately hook your much larger one around it. 

“pinky promise. now go back to bed. if you’re tired in the morning, let me know and i’ll call you out of school.” he nods, and you walk to the door, turning his light off. 

“sleep tight kiddo.” the door closes with a soft click!, and you immediately head back to your shared bedroom. your face feels wet, and you realize belatedly that you’d been crying. 

the bed is comforting, but you feel your breaths come out shakily. 

“doll? what’s wrong?” you jump, not realizing your husband’s still awake, and scoot in closer. 

“megumi’s worried that you won’t have time for him once the baby comes, and i feel so guilty. i didn’t even think about how this would affect them.” you’re hiccuping now, and his large hand comes to rest on your back. 

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i should be here more for them.” he whispers, and you shake your head. 

“no, you’re just doing what you can to help us.” he sighs, and you place your head on his chest. 

“yeah, but maybe it’s not enough. i’ll try to cut back on how many jobs i take weekly so i can be here more. we make more than enough money between the two of us anyways.” 

you hum, remembering exactly why you fell in love with him all those years ago. he isn’t exactly the most open person, but he does love his kids in his own way. 

“you need to stop being so cute. this isn’t good for my blood pressure,” he snorts, squeezing you lightly. 

“cute, huh? never thought someone would call me cute,” you laugh at him, wrapping your arms around his body. 

“why wouldn’t they? you just ooze cuteness, from your thick biceps and rippling abs-” 

“i’m starting to think you might be in love with me.” you can just hear the grin in his voice, and you move to roll away before one of his strong arms stops you. 

“ah-ah,” he tuts, “need my doll next to me so i can protect her.” 

“you sure you’re not the one in love with me?” his chest is firm as you run your fingers across it. 

“you wish,” he presses a kiss against your temple, and your body heats up. you huff, feigning annoyance, and his hand comes to cup your face. 

“fine. i might be in love with you. just a little bit."

[deadghosy]

Platonic slytherin boys with a keeper friend🐍

Ft: Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire

Warning: it may be bad cause I only wrote this for fun and I don’t know "much" about the Slytherin boys 😭 but I only did this cause I’m getting Hogwarts legacy soon for my birthday!

Tom Riddle

You hold ancient magic? He’s using you like the evil bastard he is until he actually feels a connection with you. Maybe protectiveness. He might just still use you though.

Waking you up in the middle of the night in his uniform, towering over you with a dark look as he just kicks your bed. Vibrating it. Making you jolt up disoriented from your woke.

“Get up. I require your presence and help for something. And don’t ask for anything.”

“What the fuck?”

He absolutely loves it when you do your magic spells, he finds them unique and intriguing. You easily doing your blue lightning.

Especially he finds it very easing how you can one shot your enemies and make them disappear into thin air. He’s surely gonna make you his right hand.

Mattheo Riddle

“I want you to strike that bitch right over there.”

“Mattheo no.”

I feel like mattheo would try to make you blast a person he hates to dust just for fun. He is definitely a Kendrick type of hater and he knows it.

He found it secretly hot when you did struck down an enemy that tried to harm you. Mattheo would be that mf that would joke about wanting you to smite him. He also wanted you lift him up and down as if he was flying. He was high when he asked.

“Smite me. Just once.”

“Get the fuck out my room riddle.”

But honestly he likes how powerful you are, and with Mattheo being the son of the dark lord. He deems the two of you a powerful duo and he’s living for it.

Theodore Nott

Idk how to write about this one…but stick with me.

This beautiful Italian man honestly wouldn’t ask a lot of questions and just roll with the fact that you are a keeper of ancient magic. He only would ask one question a month, probably overthinking that he might annoy you with a lot of questions.

“Do you ever wish to have normal magic?” He asked you as he leans against your lap.

You look down, combing his hair with your fingers as you hum. “Eh I guess so. But I was chosen to be a keeper. To have this responsibility to harvest ancient magic.”

He only hummed and closed his eyes. And just like that another question would pop up another month.

Draco Malfoy

“Wait until my bestie hears about this!” “Wait until L/N destroys you!” Is all people hear when they have "crossed" the malfoy boy.

Harry was a victim to this of course, he was slightly scared because of the rumors went around that you held ancient magic. He knew you were practically unstoppable.

So when Harry first met you, he was shocked that you were kind and told him that you weren’t gonna fight him. It was funny to see Draco scold you and drag you away with your arm.

His father might consider you worthy of “courting” his son, but really Draco sees you other than a spouse. And more like a good friend he can count on when times are rough.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Immediately wants you to teach him some of your ancient magic skills if you can.

When he watches you dual with others, he’s taking notes with a smile. Happy to have you as a friend but mostly he has something to do.

He would asks you questions, like random in the night type stuff. The stuff where you’re asleep until he’s shaking you in the crack of dawn just to ask you a simple question.

“When you feel a burst of magic, do you just throw it at enemies like that muggle show called dbz?”

“What?” Straight up you turned to him shocked as you didn’t even expect that from him.

Honestly he just wants to learn more about you, he loves to listen to you. So why not educate him on your magic.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.

You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 

You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  

Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 

“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 

“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  

You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 

“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 

He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 

“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  

He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 

“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 

He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 

You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 

You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 

A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 

“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 

“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 

“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  

“There a problem?” He asks. 

“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 

“I don’t like your tone.” 

You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 

“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 

“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 

You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 

“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 

He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 

“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 

“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 

“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 

“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 

You blink, “you don’t know me.” 

“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 

“I don’t want it,” you insist. 

“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 

You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 

You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 

“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 

You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 

“Now smile,” he demands. 

You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 

You force a smile. 

“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 

Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 

“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 

“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 

“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 

You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 

You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 

He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 

💀

Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 

You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 

The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 

You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 

Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 

You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 

You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 

The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 

You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 

You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 

“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 

You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 

The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 

“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 

You snort, “sure she did.” 

“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 

“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 

You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 

“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 

Can be. 

You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 

He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 

You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 

“I appreciate the ride but--” 

“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 

You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 

“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 

He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 

You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 

“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 

You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 

“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 

“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 

He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 

“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 

“I can--” 

“Just be careful,” he snips. 

Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  

You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 

[sevikasupremacy]

Hey! Can you please do fem reader x Sevika, where they are enemies and they get in the fight where Sevika obviously dominates and kicks y/n's ass (but y/n also gives her back couple bad bruises), and when Sevika tells her not to stand up and to keep lying on the ground, y/n gets up bcuz she doesn't want to give up easily and it goes on and on for a couple of times, in the end Sevika gets impressed of it but however she stabs y/n and from that the y/n just passes. Y/n laying on the cold ground bleeding out, Sevika keeps standing right near her body and decides to take her and patch up.

Maybe a part two where y/n wakes up in panic & pain (like a couple of broken ribs, bunch of bruises and cuts on her face from Sevika's metal arm) and realizes that she is in Sevika's bedroom and Sevika is sitting near the bed. So y/n tries to act strong and okay, but once Sevika (who is also bruised up) stands up without saying anything and leans towards y/n, y/n can't keep hiding her true emotions and finally shows weakness and. vulnerability, especially when Sevika lifts the blanket. However she does that to change y/n's bandage from the wound when Sevika stabbed her.

And of course if you don't mind, perhaps after changing the bandage they finally have a talk, and even there both of them try to be dominating with each other. Everything finishes with y/n provokes Sevika that she could beat her if not Sevika's metal arm and Sevika decides to shut her down by kissing y/n. However, Sevika was shocked by y/n's reaction that she pulled her even closer right to top her injured body. Y/n feels weirdly safely by Sevika's body topping hers...

Oooo~ How did you know that I love writing enemies to lovers trope 🫢 Honestly I can definitely write this in one part so no need to wait for a part 2 ;)

(I also decided to take inspiration from Vi’s and Sevika’s fight scene, so there are similarities in this one shot.)

Rivalry to Romance - Sevika x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Summary: A violent confrontation with Silco’s right hand woman unexpectedly turns into an intimate moment between the two of you.

Living in Zaun was never an easy task. It’s common to find yourself in near-death situations.

And you were a feisty one, picking fights whenever you could. You got used to coming home with cuts and bruises all over your body.

But ever since Silco took over the Last Drop, your life in the Undercity became much more…violent.

Not everyone accepted Zaun’s new leader but who would dare to go against Silco and his goons? Let’s just say that you knew plenty of people who were against Silco’s enterprise – and you were one of them.

What you hated the most was his right hand woman.

Arrogant, cruel, selfish – You had countless reasons to despise this woman.

And you couldn’t help but provoke her every time you had the chance. You weren’t afraid of the consequences.

⁍

“Fuck you.” You hissed, eyes filled with anger as you struggled to escape from your enemy’s grasp but there was no hope. Sevika snickered, tightening her grip causing you to wince in pain.

You cussed under your breath, lifting your knee to strike her in the groin.

“YOU-” Sevika growled, stumbling back as her shimmer-infused mechanical arm began to recharge. You wiped the blood from your nose, raising your iron staff in defense.

“Just give up already, Sweetheart.” The older woman smirked, still ready to attack you at any moment.

“I’m not your fucking Sweetheart.” You snapped, immediately charging toward your opponent, swinging your weapon toward her head.

Just before your iron staff could even come in contact with Sevika’s skull, her metal claws had already clutched it, bending it with a single motion.

Of course the shimmer gave her quick reflexes.

You clung to your broken weapon as Sevika swung you around but due to her strength, your grip faltered, causing your body to slam into a nearby brick wall.

You swore you heard your bones cracked.

“Shit…” You spat out blood, your legs struggling to move as you sat there exhaustingly. You took a few deep breaths before reaching your arms out, pressing your palms against the dusty brick wall to support your weight.

“I wouldn’t even try if I were you.” Sevika rolled her shoulder, her gray eyes subtly glowed in the dark as they prey on you.

“Fuck. You.” You growled, your trembling legs finally held you up, your back still leaning against the wall.

“How about less talking and more fighting hm?”

“You’re such a bitch.” You shouted before darting toward your bent iron staff, successfully retrieving it. It should suffice for now.

Sevika didn’t let you waste another second as she chased you, swinging her mechanical arm toward you. But you were prepared this time.

You dodged and blocked her attacks with your weapon, gradually getting used to her fighting tactics. You took your chance and glided behind her, striking the back of her head.

Sevika let out a low groan as she stumbled forward, shaking her head as she tried to regain focus.

You struck her again, hitting her head and calves, forcing her to kneel down.

Finally you were getting an advantage.

You kicked her back, earning another groan from your enemy as she fell forward, face-planting the cement ground.

“You really are something.” Sevika hissed as she rolled onto her back, her eyes still locked on you.

You smirked, tossing your iron staff to the side as you confidently sat on top of her, noticing Sevika’s smile turning into a frown.

“Finally giving up now huh?” You sneered, your thighs pinning her hips down as you wrapped your hands around her throat. You chuckled, convinced that you had won the battle against Silco’s number two and you couldn't be any happier. You couldn’t wait to boast to others about this achievement. Even better, you looked forward to mocking Sevika for her defeat.

“That’s what you get for underestimating m–”

But all those exciting thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, searing pain deep within your abdomen. You choked, eyes widening as you stared at your opponent, a devilish smile forming on her face.

Well fuck.

At least Sevika was nice enough to grant you a quick moment of victory before plunging her claws into you.

You tried to hold yourself up as long as you could but your strength was fading. The world seemed to spin around you as your unresponsive body swayed to the side, collapsing to the ground.

You laid there, unable to say another word as your eyes frantically tracked Sevika’s movement as she began to stand up.

Guess this might be your last moment on earth.

You let out a final breath and closed your eyes, your consciousness finally slipping away.

⁍

Your eyes fluttered open, only to be met with pitch black darkness.

You blinked a couple of times, contemplating whether you have been transported to the afterlife after the incident. You’re not surprised if you were already dead honestly. After all, the last thing you saw was Sevika’s foot as you laid in your own pool of blood.

You entire body was numb and you can’t even fully process where the fuck you were. So you’re now fully convinced that maybe you were dead — not after a good minute you realized you were laying on something super soft. Everything just felt so surreal.

“What the…” You groaned as you tried to sit up, completely forgetting about the deep stab wound on your abdomen.

“Don’t move.” A loud, booming voice echoed through the air, causing you to freeze.

Nevermind. You’re definitely not dead…yet.

You heard a soft click and before you knew it, the darkness instantly began to peel away, replaced with a warm, golden light.

You squinted your eyes, trying hard to adjust to the brightness. As you started getting familiar with the new lighting, your eyes landed on a figure sitting near you.

‘WHAT THE –” You jolted in shock, your head accidentally hitting the hard material behind your head, adding more pressure into your injuries.

“AH FUCK –”

“Now what did I just tell you?!” Sevika growled as she grabbed your shoulders, holding you down.

“HEY LET GO OF– MMMM?!”

Sevika’s hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off mid-sentence. Your eyes widened as you tried your best to mumble a response but the words came out all muffled and incomprehensible.

“Oh for fuck sake STOP MOVING!” Sevika raised her voice in frustration, “Do you ever know when to fucking shut up?!”

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger, not showing any signs of stopping. You clawed at her hand, trying to pull it away from your mouth.

Sevika took a deep breath as she tried to calm down but failed as you continued to fuel her anger.

“Shut the fuck up will you?” Sevika finally let go of you as she glared.

“Well I have a mouth so I can do whatever I want with it.” You barked back, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to endure the pain.

Sevika rolled her eyes, closing them as she tried her best not to beat the shit out of you again.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” The older woman groaned as she stretched her sore arms, trying hard not to pull a muscle.

“Did all this and didn’t even receive a proper thank you.”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, confused about what she was referring to. That’s when you slowly lifted the blanket to see that your wound had been cleaned and bandaged.

“Oh.” You muttered, awkwardly biting your bottom lip.

She eyed you up and down before shifting her body closer to you.

“Woah woah–” You straightened your back and slid backwards until your back hits the bedpost, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasped as you saw Sevika’s claws move closer toward you. Your whole body tensed up, your eyes fixated on your reflection on her metal claws. Her expression was blank somehow – you couldn’t really process what was in her mind at the moment. But it’s probably murder. Murdering you in fact.

“WHAT ARE YO–”

Your breath hitched as you shut your eyes, finally succumbing to your fate.

Imagine dying in your enemy’s bed.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” The cold hair nipped your skin as Sevika lifted the blanket to examine the stab wound, “Stop being on edge.”

“How could I not be on edge? I’m literally in your bed. You could stab me again if you want.” You snapped back, your eyes fluttered open.

“If you don’t want to see death yourself then shut it,” Sevika shook her head in irritation, her eyes still fixed on the stab wound as she reached down to pull open the cabinet beside the bed which was designated for a nightstand, “Just relax.”

Sevika whipped out a bandage roll before looking back at your bewildered expression.

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore your uncomfortable stare as she got to work, gently using her human hand to unwrap the soiled bandages around your waist.

You held your breath as Sevika examined your injured abdomen before throwing the dirty bandages in a nearby bin. Your body tensed up as you felt her touch once again. The older woman cautiously wrapped the clean bandages around your waist, making sure that they were secured. She stared at it for a second before looking back up at you.

“The fuck are you staring at?” Sevika grunted, somehow still glaring at you.

“I’m keeping an eye on you in case you have second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts on what?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll have the sudden urge to rip these bandages off and stab me again.” You cautiously pulled the blanket back to cover your wound.

“Oh for fuck sake.” Sevika scoffed, her hand finding its way to her temples, massaging them.

“If it wasn’t for your stupid robot arm I would’ve won.” You grumbled in annoyance as you crossed your arms, hearing a scoff coming from the older woman.

“Does anyone ever tell you how annoying you were?” Sevika interrupted you, hoping it would finally make you shut up but it didn’t work.

“If you want me to shut up then just kill me now. What are you waiting fo–”

Just as you were rambling on, you felt a pair of warm lips against yours. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt Sevika tilt her head to the side, deepening the kiss.

You were about to punch her in the face right then and tell her to get off of you but somehow you felt…relaxed.

Was it because you’d never kissed anyone before in your entire life? Or was it that you were starting to like the feeling of Sevika’s soft pair of lips –

Sevika stole your first kiss.

Your enemy stole your first kiss.

And you were kissing her back for fuck sake.

You hummed in satisfaction as you closed your eyes and slightly parted your lips, drowning in the rush of emotions that were dancing inside your chest.

Your hands found their way to Sevika’s collar, your fingers teasingly playing with the fabric.

“You’re really driving me crazy.” Sevika pulled away, whispering against your lips, her arms wrapping around your waist.

“Shut up.” You yanked her by the collar for another kiss.

Sevika hummed, her chest gently pressed against yours, causing you to lie back down. The older woman hovered on top of you, mischievously nibbling your bottom lip causing you to whimper.

You couldn’t help but take in the scent of the older woman as you wrapped your arms around her, relishing the warmth of her body.

You knew that this was wrong.

But you definitely weren't regretting this… You somehow wanted more.

Author’s note: Ok I’m having too much fun writing this—

[lunargrrrl]

Lights, Camera, Magic

Agatha Harkness sits in the director's chair of some of your favourite movies. Your world suddenly turns upside down when you're invited to audition for her latest screenplay, "Witching Hour".

Chapter 16

director!agatha harkness x fem!reader | slow burn | power dynamics | eventual smut | oh and agatha is a top in this, ofc | praise kink | smut | thank you all for your patience | i'm really bad at posting on tumblr

Dinner is served in a grand dining room, with elegant chandeliers casting a golden glow over the tables. Soft jazz plays in the background, mingling with the clinks of silverware and chatter. You glance at the set name placeholders, realising you’re seated slightly away from Agatha, opposite her and a few seats down, next to none other than Rio Vidal—the captivating woman you encountered on the roof terrace just moments ago. She exudes confidence in a tailored dark grey suit that perfectly complements her striking features and cool energy.

“I'm really glad I’m sitting next to you instead of some of these lizards,” Rio says, her voice light. “At least you know how to keep a conversation interesting. The last guy I talked to just wouldn’t stop bragging about his latest blockbuster flop.”

You chuckle. “I can imagine. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who’s real. I’m just trying to enjoy the moment and not get caught up in all the Hollywood nonsense. It’s all just… so intense.”

Rio nods. “Totally get that. It can feel like everyone’s just playing a part, trying to outshine one another. I mean, I love this industry, but sometimes it’s exhausting.” She glances around the room, lowering her voice. “I swear, if I have to hear one more person talk about their ‘vision’ for a film that’s been in development hell for years, I might just lose it.”

You laugh softly in reply as she leans in closer, a playful smile on her lips. “So, tell me, what do you do when you’re not charming the socks off everyone in this room?”

You take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of her compliment. “Well, the past year has just been so crazy, I don’t even know anymore. One minute, I was working for some tech company in my first job out of college, and the next, I’m here, auditioning for movies after some guy spotted me in a coffee shop. It feels like a dream that I’m just trying to keep up with.”

Rio raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Talk about a plot twist. Honestly, I see why someone would want to scout you. It’s no wonder people can’t help but notice you.”

You laugh, feeling a flutter of connection. As dinner progresses, the conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared stories. As you chat, you can feel Agatha's gaze on you from across the table, her expression a mix of interest and something else—jealous, perhaps. 

That familiar, possessive gaze that refuses to leave.

-*-✨-*-

Dinner draws to a close as the servers begin to prepare the table for dessert. Rio is mid-story when her hand brushes against yours as she gestures animatedly. “And then I told him, ‘If you think that’s impressive, wait until you see my next project!’” she finishes, a grin on her lips.

You burst into laughter, and the moment is light. Friendly. But then, you catch Agatha’s eyes flicking toward you, narrowing as she engages with the heavyweight next to her, flashing a smile that feels a touch too flirtatious for comfort.

You try to shake off the discomfort, refocusing on Rio. “So, what’s next for you? Tell me about that project you’re crewing up for next year?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a new script that I think will turn some heads, I reckon you’d be a perfect fit for one of the roles,” Rio replies, her enthusiasm infectious. “It’s a dark comedy about—”

But your attention drifts as you catch another glimpse of Agatha, who is now leaning a bit too close to her companion, laughing a little too hard at something they say. Her fingers graze their wrist, and you feel a knot of annoyance tighten in your stomach.

You turn back to Rio, forcing a smile. “That sounds amazing...”

As you attempt to redirect the conversation, Agatha’s laughter rings out again, this time drawing out her iconic cackle, and you feel the heat of frustration bubble up inside you. You steal another glance at her, catching her playing with the producer’s fingers, and that’s it.

“Excuse me for a second...” you mutter under your breath, pushing back your chair with a noise that draws attention. You stand abruptly, not caring if anyone is looking, and storm away from the table, the air around you suddenly feeling too stifling.

As you pace towards the exit, the soft murmur of conversation behind you fades, drowned out by the thudding of your heart in your chest. You reach the elevator, and the doors begin to slide shut just as you take a breath to steady yourself.

And the second that the doors almost close, is the same second that a hand shoots out, catching the door and forcing it back open.

Agatha.

Your mouth goes dry, and your heart skips, responding to her presence like clockwork.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice smooth as silk, laced with an undertone that makes your pulse quicken.

“I just needed some air,” you reply, trying to sound casual, but the way she’s looking at you makes it impossible to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Air?” she echoes, stepping closer, her gaze steady and piercing. “Why? You seemed pretty… relaxed out there with Rio.”

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you do your best to hold your composure. “And what about you? I saw you flirting with that producer all dinner.”

Agatha tilts her head, an amused smile dancing on her lips. “Flirting? Hardly. I was simply being professional, and sometimes you need to play into their hands in this industry.” Her expression furrows as she steps even closer, the air between you thick with electricity. “But I’ll admit, it’s adorable how you think you can tease me and get away with it, pet.”

She continues, leaning in, “Two can play at this game, sweetheart. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she looked at you? I think you were forgetting who you belong to.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the possessive undertone igniting within you. “Well, maybe I’m not so easy to claim.”

“Oh, but I think you are.” She steps closer, closing the space between you, “You just need a little reminder.”

Before you can respond, Agatha closes the distance between you with one swift, powerful motion, slamming you against the wall of the elevator. The cool metal presses against your back, causing you to gasp.

“Agatha…” you breathe, but she silences you with her lips, crashing into you with a fervour that ignites every nerve ending in your body. The kiss is urgent and demanding, her hands framing your face as she tilts your head to deepen the connection. You melt against her, responding with equal intensity, the frustration and heat of the moment fuelling your desire.

You gasp helplessly into her hot mouth as she brushes her tongue against yours, igniting a wildfire of longing that tears through you. Her kiss is a heady mix of passion and desperation, each sweep of her tongue sends shivers shaking all over you. You feel her breath hot and rapid against your skin, mixing with the soft sighs that escape from your lips.

Every second stretches into eternity as you lose yourself in her, the world outside the elevator fading into darkness. You explore the intoxicating taste of her lips, rich with the hint of the champagne you shared; the overwhelming strength of her hold wraps around you like a spell. You run your hands up her blazer, your fingers reaching and tangling in her long brown hair, pulling her even closer.

You want to surrender yourself to her completely.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, echoing in the confined space, and Agatha responds immediately, deepening the kiss. It’s as if she craves the sound, as if every whimper from your lips is a reward she cannot resist. Her mouth captures every ounce of your breath, each kiss a sweet torment that leaves you aching for more. She pulls your bottom lip into her mouth, teasingly grazing it with her teeth, sending a rush pooling through you that makes you whimper louder.

And the second that sound slips past your lips, is the same second that Agatha can’t contain the low, throaty sigh that escapes her.

Time seems to compress, each heartbeat reverberating in your chest, leaving you breathless and aching for more, as if every inch of you is ablaze—and only Agatha has the power to quell the flames.

And then, without a word, she reaches into her pocket, retrieving a sleek hotel key card. You manage to catch a glimpse of what it swipes on the elevator panel:

Penthouse Suite

Your breath catches.

Your heart thuds.

Every inch of you pulses at the implication.

Breaking the kiss once more, Agatha pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression a mix of possessiveness and desire.

“It’s time to show you who you really belong to.”

Continue reading on AO3:

[gatheringbones]

[“HOW TRAUMA PLAYS OUT IN GROUPS

Horizontal Violence

When we can’t strike back at those who are truly harming us, we often lash out at those we can reach. We yell at our lover because we can’t yell at the boss. In groups, we may fight even the most minor conflict to the death. We attack our fellow group members with all the unexpressed rage that really belongs to the perpetrators of violence. In our minds, we are always fighting for our lives. Just as enraged dogs will attack one another with no regard for their relative size, we lose sight of real power differentials and may demolish a group member with a blast of anger without realizing that we have shifted from victim of abuse to abuser.

Horizontal Violence Strategies

Friends don’t let friends abuse one another. A group that sets healthy boundaries and standards for behavior needs to hold one another accountable for keeping them.

Offer constructive critique and honest feedback.

Collective intervention: Others in the group can support one another to tell the raging group member that their behavior is not acceptable. Couple this with:

Good cop/bad cop: While one or more group members set and hold clear boundaries, another might offer help and support to find counseling, coaching or mediation.

Mentoring: Assigning the offending person a mentor can provide long-term encouragement to both change behavior and look at deeper patterns.

The Perpetual Victim

Some people cling to the role of victim, claiming center stage. Whatever issue or drama erups somehow always ends up being about them. Their patterns may originate from deep hurt and trauma and we can feel sympathy, but colluding with them is not helpful either to the person or the group. Fruitless efforts to appease them can drain the group’s energy and undermine its effectiveness.

When we are caught up in the role of victim, our speech and actions reflect our sense of powerlessness. To regain our sense of empowerment, we might begin by challenging the inherent assumptions in our words and practicing alternative framings and affirmations.

Blaming

Statement: “You made me feel …”

Assumptions: I am at the mercy of other people’s speech and actions. I am helpless to do anything but respond to how others treat me.

Alternate suggestion: I choose how to respond to other people’s statements and assessments. I can choose what to take in and what to discard. My feelings are real and valid, but I can move through them quickly and separate them from my own assumptions and other people’s judgments.

Blurting

Statement: “I have to speak my truth.” Translation: I’m about to blurt out something hurtful in the most blunt way possible. Assumptions: Truth is uncomfortable, painful and festering. My feelings and perceptions are The Truth, and I must get it out just as I might vomit up a bad meal, regardless of consequences.

Alternate suggestion: I choose to speak my truth, using all my sensitivity, wisdom and skill so that I can be clearly heard and effective.

Bleating

Statement: “I’m being silenced.”

Assumption: If people actually heard me, they would agree with me. So if they don’t agree with me, they are shutting me down.

Alternate suggestion: I can advocate for my own perspective — whether or not others agree — and respect their right to differ. I do not need anyone’s permission to advocate for myself.

Strategies for Transforming the Role of Victim

Clear, fair and transparent ways that people can earn power in the group will provide constructive alternatives to victimization.

Structures and practice of constructive critique can provide positive channels for complaints.

Encourage responsibility with questions like: What would you suggest to make the situation different? What structures would you like to see in place that would help us address your needs and concerns?”]

starhawk, from the empowerment manual: a guide for collaborative groups, 2011

[nonranghaes]

heads up: depictions of depression.

chris holds you like you’re made of glass, and you’re starting to think he might be right to.

things don’t work out for you. life is a drag, everything is bad, and you’re tired of floating along and watching everyone else walk with a purpose. what’s your purpose? to mope? to remind people that it can always be worse? it’s starting to genuinely feel like it.

and yet your idiot of a friend has come into your apartment and come into your bedroom (strike 1), seen your messy everything (strike 2), and seen how you clearly haven’t been taking care of yourself (strike 3). you expected gentle nagging. you expected chris to do what other people have done and berate you for not speaking up, or for letting it get this bad. you’ve hit three strikes, after all. instead he just sat down next to you, and mumbled for you to come over to him. you don’t know why, but you did, and he just held you.

“i love you,” he says quietly. its not the first time you’ve heard it. “just… lay it all on me from now on, okay? i’m your friend,” and he’s gentle when he squeezes you, “so call me and i’ll come running because i love you and this is what friends do.”

you don’t know what to say. tears well up and you settle for crying instead. he just holds you closer, head resting atop your own.

“i’m not gonna let you drown,” he says. “alright? just call me from now on when it starts getting bad. i’ll help. i promise. we’re gonna get out of this, alright?”

you think you actually might this time.

[seeingivy]

ribbons release

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: happiness for once. until it is not. ronnie's love for foreshadowing strikes again.

an: not a fan of this chapter, but we digress. read it and do not kill me if you don't like it.

song: not explicitly mentioned, but this chapter reminds me of about you by the 1975. ratty healy, I hate you but you ate on this one thing.

previous part linked here

--

“I ju-just sent my loc-location, Eren.” 

“I got it, Y/N. I just need you to hold on for ten more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

“Y-yes.” 

Seattle is famous for rain. You understand that all too well now. After what you’ve counted as twenty-seven minutes - from when you went to take the trash out to the mailpost you’re hiding behind now - you’re all but soaked. Drenched. 

Your phone is blowing up with texts, the rain is only getting harder, and the mini black dress and ribbon in your hair do no favors to keep you warm. You slide out of your call with Eren and quickly scan through the messages, buzzing so loud they’re blocking Eren’s voice. 

reiner: so, so proud of you always!!! stop being a big famous pop star and go back to being the little twerp who needs my help killing spiders on set :/ 

levi: I love you too, kid. And on a real listen, we really do love the album. 

armin: ann and i are smelling a triple threat on the horizon. love you to the moon and saturn <3

connie: i was accidentally pooping while i listened to dorothea for the first time and i think the combination of those two things at once gave me like a really visceral reaction. im not ok. u are amazing. 

mikasa: u are givg me aneurysm. pls don’t forgor to call me the scnd ur okay. 

erwin: Call me ASAP. 

erwin: Not urgent. Just feeling emotional about my little Canadian reaching hearts all over the world. 

king of bitches (maybe: ryomen sukuna): Fluff shit indeed. Blow me a kiss when you beat James for Album of the Year. 

danny: where is the album release post? it’s almost been half an hour. 

You have bigger problems at the moment. Like the frozen piece of fabric you’re wearing. You should have named the album sweaters or scarves or something. Then at least you’d be warm. And blend in with the paparazzi. 

Fuck.

“W-wait, Eren. Y-you ca-n’t b-be the one to get me.” you murmur, shivering through your teeth.

“Do you want to stay with someone else? I know nice people here. My neighbor is in her late forties and has like two middle school aged girls that are really nice. They’d take care of you, I promise you can trust them and-” he rambles. 

“N-no. I want to st-stay with you. But pa-papara-zzi. S-send ss-omeone e-else.” 

“Paparazzi? Why are-?” 

“Er-eren.” 

“Would it be that bad if it was me? Like it has to be someone else, Y/N?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“I have someone in mind. She’s leaving right now, okay?” 

Eren’s sound is muffled over the line now, which has you digging your phone into your ear to catch the ends of what he’s saying. 

Blast the heater….butt warmer on before she’s in the car….bring it up and I will kick your freeloading….

“Y/N?” 

“H-here.” 

“Good. I’m sending her. Don't get upset, this is the best I could do, okay? I-I promise she’s actually nice. You can trust her and-and I’d never send someone who would do something bad.”  

“O-okay. I t-trust you. J-just get me ou-out of th-this, please.” you whimper, praying to god the rustling behind you is a rabbit and not the group of them finding you. 

“I’m trying sweetheart, okay? She’s speeding. She’s on Main and Third, three lights and she’s there.” 

That’s when you see it. The flash of the camera. And hear five consecutive clicks right after. You look around the periphery, before you see two of them, two tall guys speed walking closer to where you’re hiding. 

So you do the only thing you can. Stand up and run instead. 

You scramble up off the pavement, hiking your dress down, and keep running down the block. Climb up the gates, knock over trash cans to block the way, anything to stop them. And when you look back, after who knows how long, you realize they’re gone. 

And sit flat on the messy pavement, finally lifting the phone back up. Only to realize Eren’s no longer on the line because your phone is dead. You drop it straight into your lap and dig your hands into your head, covering your ears to stop the pounding sound of the rain from getting any louder. 

God. Just breathe. Whoever is coming to get you is on the way. They’ll come get you and then you’ll be out of this mess. 

You hear three resounding clicks and a flash of a light to look up at two different paps, two girls this time, getting a straight on picture of you. And all you can do is put your head down in your lap and cry. 

They already got the picture. There’s no point in trying to run out of it anymore. 

“Y/N.” 

“Pl-please. I’m b-begging you. You already got your picture and can ss-spin it into whatever you want. I-I’m still a person, please. Just let me go.” you respond, the tears blinding your sight of vision. 

You feel a towel being wrapped around your shoulders and soft hands lifting you up by your arms. And then all of a sudden you’re in a warm car, being sped out of the neighborhood past the groups of paparazzi in between the houses, and not directly across from them having your picture taken. 

You’re in a car. You’re okay. You’re leaving. You’re okay. 

You lean back and breathe hard, phantom sobs still racking out of your chest, trying to register that you’re almost there. Safe behind closed, triple locked doors. 

“D-did you tell Eren?” 

“Yes. He’s not far, we’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Okay. T-thank you. I’m Y/N.” 

“Lana.” 

You turn your head to actually take in the driver this time, to be met with the Lana you feared. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend, Lana. She has short brown hair - entirely different from her long, beachy waves from the Girlfriend incident - a pointed nose and a very clenched jaw. 

“Th-there are more blankets on the floor. I pumped the heater pretty hard, but I’ll turn all the fans your way. And anything you could possibly need is being rushed to the house for you, so just don’t worry, okay?” 

“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to get me. I-I” 

“Please don’t thank me. I just-” 

She takes a harsh intake of breath and turns to give you a look, her mouth upturned. 

“He locked you out, didn’t he?” she whispers. 

“Yeah.” you respond. 

“What did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t like him back.” 

She turns her head towards you, a look of confusion on her face. 

“It was a PR thing.” 

She snorts. 

“Your managers must hate you.” 

“I’m starting to think they just might.” 

“Well. Don’t feel bad. Not for a fucking second. Just because he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s entitled to you reciprocating back. You like who you like. And if I were you, I wouldn’t stop liking a guy like Eren for a skeeze like Ricky either.” 

You lean against the glass, hot air blowing in your face, as you take in her expression - so enraged, so exasperated, so furious that it gives you a chill. But when she looks over and gives you a halfhearted smile, you see the pained expression there too. 

That’s when you pinpoint it. Lana reminds you of Historia. 

“I’m sorry.” you respond. 

“For?” 

“You knew he locked me out. He must have done it to you too, no?” you whisper, the tension in the air delicate. 

She swallows hard and clenches her knuckles on the steering wheel, eyes laser focused on the red light shining on her face. And beyond the original striking features - her sharp jaw and nose - you see the softness too. The dimples, the wrinkles near her eyes, the light brown freckles. 

“I wanted to take time off from acting. It-I did a role that was really traumatic and I just needed a break. And he was just about to go on tour and he wanted me to come to support. Like a little cheerleader.” 

“So he locked you out?” 

“For two days. He-he’s just. A lot of the fame stuff got to him when he was really little. And now he’s got this convoluted sense of self-image and it just- I don’t know. He’s got problems.” she responds. 

“I’m sorry. Really, that’s-” 

You stop talking, words failing you. And maybe it’s the way your head was frozen ten minutes ago and it’s being melted now, or that the picture they took is going to leak soon, or that there is no good thing to say to something shitty like this. It only took him three months to turn on you, which you’re guessing is generous now. She must have infinite patience for putting up with it for an entire year. 

“In a weird way, I’m glad it’s me and not Eren. You- this does something for me. Making sure you’re not out there for two days, it-it helps me.” she whispers, looking over to give you a smile. 

“I really appreciate you, Lana. Thank you. And I-I’m not mad at you for the Girlfriend thing. You had every right to do that.” 

“Y/N. I have every right to drag Ricky James’ name through the mud. But not yours. And I- shit. Please don’t tell Eren we talked about this. He’s going to kill me.” 

“Why?” 

“He told me that if I brought it up, he’d kick me out of his house. I kind of stay there because I-I hate living in our townhouse on set because of how toxic it is and he was nice enough to offer. And he made it very clear that I have to pick you and make sure you’re okay, not make you uncomfortable or anything. We’re here to take care of you and-” 

“I brought it up. I’ll deal with him if he gives you a hard time. I used to be really good at that type of thing.” 

“I know for a fact that you could tell him to twirl in the air like a show pony and he’d do it.”

“I’ll test the theory and let you know.” 

She laughs, giving you a smile which you warmly return. Your phone buzzes in your lap, finally revived, and you send a quick message to Mikasa and Jean before shutting it off. 

“I-I didn’t know that it was going to go that far. I knew the song and that we were just going to sing it. Let people speculate it was about you. I-I didn’t know they’d have a girl who looked like you OR bring Eren up on stage. And Eren didn’t know anything about the song or the performance at all - they, they set him up.” 

“Why would they do that? I mean, they got horrible backlash in the entire thing.” 

“They thought people would like it. And they severely underestimated how much people love you. And they did it because, Eren- he. He doesn’t follow rules and-” 

“Follow rules?” 

“I’m saying too much. He-he’s going to get mad. Ju-just rest, okay? You’re okay now, we’re two minutes from the neighborhood..”  

You give her a questioning look, which she returns with a dismissive shake. Stubborn - she’s Historia alright. You lean back in the chair and reach for the music nob, twisting it on. Only to be met with the Teletubbies Theme blasting through the car and a very flustered Lana turning the knob off. 

“Fuck.” 

“Teletubbies?”

“I-I can explain.” 

“Please. I’d love to hear it.” 

She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as the silence hangs in the air. 

“Okay. Maybe I can’t explain.” 

“No need. I appreciate versatile music taste in prospective friends. Especially classics like this.” you respond, cranking the music back on. 

“Friends?” 

“Don’t be silly. Not exaggerating, but I think you quite literally saved my life a few minutes ago. You’re like the La-La to my Dipsy.” 

“Lame. You’re more of a Tinky-Winky. And anytime. We girls stick together, right?” she responds, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. Like Eren. 

Did she learn the hand squeezes from Eren? Is he squeezing her hands? They live together so …are they dating? 

“We’re here.” 

You nod, appreciative of Lana more than maybe any person on god's green Earth, as she pulls into the driveway and helps you out of the car. It’s only after sitting that you’re realizing your legs are so bone dead tired that you’re barely moving on your own. 

You move past the hood of the car as Eren walks into the garage, immediately beelining towards you. His hair is long again - it’s always changing every time you see him - and he’s all wound up with tensions sitting in his shoulders. His hands are warm and cupping your face, yanking the cold towel off and replacing it with a warm one. 

“Hey. You-you nicked your face, Y/N. And you’re freezing, you-” he whispers, brushing his fingers across the skin near your eye that stings on touch. 

Lana holds the door open as he leads you in, arms aggressively moving up and down your shoulders and his face all pinched up in concern. 

“You’re good to go? I put your stuff out by the door.” Eren says, gesturing to Lana. 

“Is she leaving?” you ask, looking up at Eren. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be just us. And I’m sure Mika and Jean will drop everything to fly out for you tomorrow, I can tell them if you need me to and-” 

“Well, don’t make her leave. She shouldn’t stay on that stupid set just because of me.” you respond. 

Eren looks over and glares at Lana, who is now wide eyed and giving Eren a sheepish smile. Fuck. He asked her not to talk about that. 

“Lana.” he says, in a warning tone. 

“Eren. Chill out. I didn’t even-” 

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that? You- she got drenched and the rain and you were talking about set?”

“It’s not like that! It just came up and-” 

“Oh, for sure. You just happened upon it like you were a villager walking in a town square. Ooh Y/N. You just got drenched in the rain and chased by paparazzi, but more importantly, the girls I work with are super bitchy.” he responds, mimicking her voice. 

“You-it wasn’t like that! You’re so aggravat-” 

“Eren. Leave her alone.” you ask, looking up at him. And you’re sure you must look horrible because he immediately stops when he looks at your face again and signals for her to leave, which she’s receptive to. 

“Okay. Lana, text me when you’re there. And check if you were followed on your way out.” Eren says. 

Lana stops and holds both of your arms at your biceps, hands soft on your skin. 

“Do call me if you need anything, okay? Especially Ricky related. Whatever you do, I’ll back you up, Tinky-Winky. ” 

“Thank you, La-La. I’ll take you up on that.” you respond, giving her a warm smile. 

“Oh god. No. No, you don’t get to be friends now. Fuck no, Lana. Please stick to the geriatric grandmas you play Scrabble with.” 

“You’re just mad they beat you at mahjong last week. Because you’re a prissy loser.” 

“And you’re-” 

You jab Eren in the side, signaling him to stop, as they both nod and she slides her way out. From the way he’s arguing, the look on his face is so similar to the one he gives Connie when they argue, you know they could go on for years if they got the chance. 

“Fuck you, Eren.” 

“Eat shit, Lana.” 

She flips him off as the door clicks shut behind her, the lack of her presence making you suddenly aware of your breaths. And of Eren, warm Eren rubbing into your shoulders and concerned green eyes staring into yours. 

“I like her.” you whisper. 

“Me too. Don’t tell her that though, she’s got an ego problem.” he responds.  

You laugh, which has him smiling at you, and suddenly you’re sobbing. And on cue, Eren has his arms around you, his touch warm and his voice oh so soft that it kills you. That you haven’t seen him in two months. And haven’t talked to him for longer. 

“Eren.” 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, it-it’ll be okay. I- we’ll fix this, okay? I’ll call Levi and Hange, whoever you want, they’ll all come and-” 

You reach up, tangling your arms around his neck as he keeps nervously talking, trying to hold you closer even though it’s not physically possible. And he’s just so- 

So familiar that he feels like home. 

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N. Please stop crying, I-I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs, straight into your skin as you nod, trying your best to even out the sobs still leaving you. And slowly but surely, the stream slows and your breath evens out enough to get at least a few words out. 

“Okay. Okay, okay. I’m okay.” 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“As much as I like holding you, you’re freezing. Take a shower first and we can do this all you want, okay?” 

You pull back, wiping the tears off your cheeks and giving him a nod. He gives you a small smile, before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you down towards the bathroom. And you don’t miss all the posters and pictures he has on his walls - one from each season of Attack of Titan, a few of him and Armin, and even one of him and Lana flipping off the camera together. 

He pushes you into the bathroom and immediately turns on the shower all the way to the hottest setting, before turning around and putting his hands on his hips. 

“Towels, clothes, shampoo. There’s soap in there already and take as long as you want. Sit in here for three days if you have to just- do-do whatever you have to do and-” 

You pick up the bottle of shampoo, the lavender scented Pantene, the one that you’ve been using since you were fifteen. And you know, you know that Eren’s atrocious ass uses a three in one hair and conditioner so it’s not his. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you just happen to have the brand of shampoo that I use?” 

“N-no. Those are Lana’s.” 

“Then why are they unopened?” you ask, giving him a smirk. 

He glares at you, before rolling his eyes and holding your face. And now he’s leaning so close, so close that your lips are only a few feet away from yours, when he talks. 

“You know why you can’t make fun of me for keeping a spare of your shampoos in my house?” he whispers, green eyes burning in yours. 

“Why?” you whisper back, stomach lurching. 

“Because you’re actually here. I knew you’d come back to me.” he responds, giving your cheek a pinch before walking out. 

And when you watch him walk out, giving you one last smile before he shuts the door, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Typical Eren. Funny, irritating, and soft all in one. 

He’s the same as you left him. 

--

You pad out of the shower, Eren’s hoodie and sweatpants ridiculously huge on you, as you follow the sweet smell into the kitchen. Eren is leaned over the counter, sliding vegetables into two bowls of ramen as you walk in. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi. Took a while. Thought you died in there.” Eren responds, pressing his hands to your skin to test how warm they were. 

“I almost wish I did.” you respond, laughing. 

Except Eren doesn’t find it funny and instead he’s dropping the utensils and standing at your side. 

“Y/N.” 

“I was joking!” 

“Nothing about that was funny. Don’t ever joke about that.” he responds, rummaging through the drawers at your side before pulling out a little tube of gel. 

Eren taps the top of the counter, which you jump onto, before he takes his place in between your legs. His hands are focused on reading the instructions, forehead all scrunched up in concentration.

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like this…scar ointment or whatever. Helps things heal better, I want to use it on that cut on your pretty face.” he responds, twisting it open and squirting some on his finger. 

He brings his hands to your face, eyes intently focused on your cheek. You hiss the second his finger makes contact with your skin, the tingling sensation catching you off guard. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts.” he whispers, smothering the cold gel down the side of your eye. 

“I-I fell on the pavement. My knees are pretty bad too, Eren.” you whisper, which he nods at. 

After he finishes, he’s carefully sliding the ends of your pants off and carefully placing the ointment on each of the jagged marks on your legs. And you eye the bowls of ramen at your side - knowing instantly that the one without mushrooms is yours - and reach for the food. The broth is so warm it soothes the aching feeling in your throat, still seasoned to perfection the way Eren always makes it. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I ask you a weird question?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are you and Lana dating?” 

He looks up from your leg and gives you a devilish smirk. And then starts laughing. Like full on, crouched over, tears from his eyes laughing.  

“Okay. It wasn’t that funny.” you murmur, rubbing your hands against the warm bowl and frowning. 

“Oh god, Y/N. Jesus-” 

“It’s a normal question! She lives with you, you trusted her to come get me, and you guys have a picture together in the hallway.” 

“Are you jealous?” he asks, standing up and leaning straight into your space. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Are too.” 

“Am not.” 

“You don’t need to get all embarrassed. Watching you kiss Ricky James made me want to break something, preferably his neck.” 

You swallow hard at the mention of Ricky again, the thought of him and what happened was so far away because you were with Eren. In his space, in your shared bubble, after so long. And he catches on too fast because he’s already profusely apologizing. 

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring him up, I-I’m not trying to push you into telling me what happened it’s just-” 

“No. No, Eren. It’s okay. I know. I-” 

You breathe in hard and put the bowl of ramen down and reach for his hands instead. You keep your eyes focused on them - on the little mole on his left hand, the feeling of his knuckles underneath your fingers, and on him squeezing your hands three times before you start talking.  

“Ricky and I were faking the relationship for PR. Since London Boy and all that, it was Danny and Sareen’s idea. That-that’s why I stopped talking to you, I-I felt bad. And I was ashamed that I was even doing it, I-I don’t know. The Little Women press and all that, it would just get people to stream and talk. Make me a triple threat. And then today, I- He told me he liked me. And I said I couldn’t do that right now. That I don’t like him back. I went to take out the trash because it was so awkward and then I was going to go home but he- he locked me out. And when I asked to come back in, he repeated the same words to me. That he couldn’t do that right now.” 

Eren lifts your hands, still locked with his, and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles, as you continue. His lips burn your skin, still. 

“I was out there and it-it was cold. And then I heard the cars and I saw seven paparazzi trucks, right on the porch. Ricky, his address isn’t leaked. No-no one knew I was there or that he was but they all showed up, right when I was out there and-” 

“He called them, didn’t he?” Eren asks, his tone so harsh, so unyielding that it almost doesn’t sound like him. 

“Yeah. And I ran, for so long. I- they got a picture. A few, I know they did and I was just so, so scared that I was going to be out there forever, that I was all alone and they were just going to-” 

Eren reaches forward, wrapping you in his arms for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight, but you welcome it. Focus on his heart beating under your ear, running your fingers over his fish tattoo on his bicep, and on his soft, steady breaths. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“You didn’t say anything. What are you thinking about?” 

“What I’m thinking isn’t productive for you to know right now.” 

You look up at him, giving him a questioning look. 

“Drop it, Y/N.” 

“No. Tell me. I’m sure you’re mad and all but-” 

“Mad? I’m fucking furious, I’m livid. That he fucking locked you out and left you in the cold. You-you could have been seriously hurt. You are hurt. And not only that, the fucking paparazzi. You-you ran in the cold, you fell, you can’t stop crying and-and- I’m going to kill this asshole when I see him next because it’s his fault you’re feeling like this.” 

“Eren.” 

“No. Shut up, Y/N. I’m being serious. I-I don’t like seeing you like this and don’t tell me not to. He hurt you. It’s that simple.” 

You deflate, knowing Eren too well to know that he won’t drop this. Especially when he’s overly passionate, deep in the feeling right now. 

“Okay. But can you just be here for me right now? I need you here and not all….tense and mad. B-Be soft. And warm.” 

He stops, the frustration in his forehead dissolving as he takes a breath and smiles at you. Not fully, but it does the job. 

“Okay. I can do that. Let’s watch Fruits Basket. And then go to bed.” 

“You hate Fruits Basket.” 

“But I love you. Enough to watch your weird bestiality adjacent show and pretend to like it.” 

You smile and he reaches forward to pinch your cheeks. 

“Look at that smile. There she is. There’s my sweet girl.” he whispers, voice all tangled in his throat. 

--

You wake up to an empty bed, Eren’s side cold. And you pull his hoodie on before padding downstairs to find Eren’s phone pressed to his ear. He gives you a wave and points to the plate - a mix of eggs, french toast, and fruits - perfectly placed to perfection. 

You give him a smile and he walks off, taking the phone with him. You frown as you watch him disappear, jabbing your fork through the cantaloupe. 

What is he talking about that’s so important he doesn’t want you to hear? 

You jump off of the stool and quietly pad towards the direction he walked, hiding in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, staring at the picture right across - one of Levi and Hange kissing your cheeks at the vow renewal - and angle yourself to hear his words. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I’m glad. You tell me if you need anything else, okay?” 

“Okay, Coco. I missed you too, yeah?” 

Who the fuck is Coco?

He hangs up and you immediately scramble back to the kitchen, trying your best to stay inconspicuous as he comes back and gives you a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, the expression on his face almost tired. 

“Hey sleepyhead. You okay?” 

“Mhm. Food is really good, Eren.” 

He gives you a smile as he sits at your side, eyes focused on you as you eat your food. He places both of your phones in front of you, and you spot yours with nearly a hundred notifications. But when you reach for it, Eren grabs your hand in the air and locks it on his own instead. 

“Just-wait. Eat first.” he says, his tone hollow.

You turn your head to the side and take in Eren’s expression, downtrodden and uncharacteristically unexpressive. The complete opposite of Eren yesterday - moony eyes and soft smiles. 

“Eren.” 

“Y/N. If I ask you to do this for me, can you trust me and listen?” 

“No. You-what’s wrong? You’re being weird.” you ask, reaching for his hand. 

He looks over, the look indiscernible, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“You-I took care of most of it, okay? Levi and Hange are coming. Just, don’t panic. You-it’s okay.” 

“Eren. You’re scaring me. Just tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath, cracking the knuckles in your hand as he nervously talks. 

“You-your pictures leaked. The ones of you running last night. And-and people started speculating really fast - wondering why you were running and crying on the night your album released instead of celebrating it. And-and then Ricky, he tweeted a bunch of things.” 

You pale. And reach for your phone, which Eren stops again. 

“They’re lies. Obviously. You don’t need to read them, not yet. And Lana told me she’s ready to back you up, whatever you want, when you need it. But, that’s not-” 

“What, Eren? Just spit it out.” you respond, frantically. 

“They- Ricky’s fans are mad at you. They’re sending you death threats.” 

“Oh.” 

You deflate, staring at the cold mess of breakfast on your plate. Death threats. Hate, you’re no stranger too. Of people commenting on your looks, how bad your singing is, how lame you are. But wishing you were dead? Full on, unbothered and cursing your existence? 

“And not just you, but your family too.” he whispers, watching your face fall. 

Your family. Your parents, Colt, Falco-

“Excuse me. What did you just say? 

Eren doesn’t respond and the tears fall immediately from your eyes, hot and angry as he reaches forward, immediately swiping them away. His expression's pained, he knows this all too well.

“I sent your family a security detail. Don’t worry. Colt was only minorly injured and-” 

You stand up and grab Eren’s shirt, bundling the fabric into a fist in your hands, as you glare at him. 

“Injured? What the fuck do you mean injured, Eren?” 

He sighs, lifting his hands to move yours, and hold them. You’re still clenching hard, so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood, but he’s doing his best to uncurl your hands as he talks. 

“They threw a brick through the window. And the glass, Colt was sitting right there. I was just on the phone with Falco, he said he’s doing better. The security detailing has medical so you don’t have to worry about that again and they’re both okay and-” 

“No part of this is okay, Eren! Quit saying it’s okay when it’s not! They almost killed my brothers.” 

“Y/N.” 

“No. No, this is horrible, Eren. They-they don’t do any of this stuff. Falco’s barely thirteen. And Colt - he’s going to college. He’s not a celebrity, he’s not a singer, he’s just a student. How is he supposed to go out after this? Why- how is it supposed to be normal? And now, they’re going to be like us. They’re going to feel like they’re trapped in this fucking suffocating ass fish bowl and everyone’s watching and laughing at them and they just-” 

“Y/N. Stop. It’s not going to-” 

“Falco’s too soft for this. He’s just a kid, Eren. I can’t- no. This isn’t fair. Eren, they didn’t even do anything. They’re literally just related to me, they just love me and they’re getting hurt because of it. You- you’re probably getting dragged in the mud too. Everyone who helps me gets subjected to this, loving me comes with this big thing behind me and I can’t even keep people who get it with me. I let you go when you were the only person who understood and I messed it all up and got myself involved with Ricky James of all people and-” 

“Y/N. Stop. Please."

You sit flat on Eren’s floor, head in your hands, and cry, teardrops falling straight onto the floor. And Eren’s sitting there with you, with your big mess of jumbled feelings and mistakes, and trying his best to help you with it. 

That’s how Levi and Hange find you two, after pocketing the spare key Eren told them about. After he insistently called them and payed for a private jet, going on and on about how Y/N needed them. And here you two are, despite their original conceived notions that you two were fighting, on the floor, in each other’s arms. 

“Some things never change, huh?” Hange whispers. 

“Yeah. They keep fucking crying every time we see them.” he whispers back. 

--

Between Levi and Hange - Jean, Mikasa, and Connie who make it out that night - and Eren and Lana, they fix things. Most things. 

Ricky’s narrative about you is clear cut - half-true and half-fake. Your team forced him to date you and defend you for PR purposes, after the Girlfriend incident. There was an agreement that you two would write certain songs, make certain appearances, and support each other. 

But then Ricky turns the gate. Says that you’ve deeply, severely hurt him. That you led him on, that you used him to boost your own ego, and that you were dangerously obsessed with fame and not him. That you were all things - heartless, fake, that he doubted if you were even a real person. A glorious pop-star, empty and hollow on the inside.

And people jump on it fast. Citing the fact that you would throw away your friendship with Historia to be famous, that you stopped dating Eren when he stopped being successful, that you can go to tours but not to Mikasa or Jean’s birthday parties. 

The worst part? Ricky lied, but the things they pointed out were true. Every mistake you make is on display and that people make it a point to draw attention o it. That you really were in too deep, too deep into pleasing Sareen and Danny, and being a triple threat that you forgot that they were all there too. 

Eren, especially. Sweet, sweet Eren who saved you, who held you when you needed him. 

You look over at him and Lana, the two of them very aggressively debating how to use their last turn of their daily Wordle, and feel your heart deflate. 

You dropped the ball. You’ll never make it up to him. 

Lana, in her infinite kindness, has chosen to share her own story, as a corroboration for yours. That Ricky taunted, mocked, and harassed her the entire time they were dating. That you're anything but the things he says. Because she’s had enough and she’ll do it to help out her Tinky-Winky. (Much to Eren’s dismay, he hates that you’re both becoming closer as time goes on.) 

And to complement the announcement, Lana asked for one thing. To go out in style. You wrote a song with her and promised her that she was going to be the lead actress in the music video. A girl rage moment, like The Man. Danny and Sareen approve the move, making no comments or concerns about anything else that happened, and ask to be involved when the time comes. 

You sit on it for a few days. Till you’re ready. But where you are now - with these people - needs to stay for a little longer. Before you brace everything again. 

“Yo.” 

You smile, opening up space for Connie on the couch for you. 

“Hi Con.” 

“Deep in your thoughts there, princess. Thinking about how your album is about to go Multi-Platinum?” 

“No. Just the entire thing.” you respond, frowning. 

Connie rolls his eyes, reaching forward to squish your cheeks way too hard. 

“Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky-” Connie says under his breath, 

You snort, reaching forward to push Connie off. You focus back on Eren and Lana, who are now pulling each other's hair and a nice string of insults, as Mikasa and Levi brew their tea, entirely unbothered in the back. 

And when the screen in front of you flashes, when your third album goes Multi-Platinum after a week of being released, they’re all climbing on you. Jean and Mikasa are hollering in the back, Connie and Lana are jostling you in the air and pressing kisses to your cheek, and Eren, Levi, and Hange smile at you, the three of them enveloped in their own hug, across the way.

You split your separate ways at the end of the week, when you’re ready. Connie, Jean, and Mikasa return to set, Lana and Eren are gone with the wind, and Levi and Hange disappear again. 

When you sit on your plane back home, it sits in. How lonely this entire thing is. How a week full of your friends who love you only happened because of this sickening thing. That it's not a given, that they're presence is only in the bad times and almost never the good.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you pick up your phone to read the notification. 

eren: don’t be a stranger. fish like to swim in schools, not alone. 

It’s something that rings in your mind, time and time again. When everyone else wins the war, when you keep performing and letting them take and take, for the sake of the work. For the art, for your dream.

And when you give up acting, singing, and dancing at the end of it all and make zero intentions to ever do any of this again, the question still bothers you.

If fish like to swim in schools, why did Eren push you so far away? Why was he so intent on swimming alone? Where you couldn't follow?

eren: I'm not saying that for you. and I know that this is selfish but...

eren: I need you just as much as you need me.

.

.

.

Fucking liar.

--

next part linked here

taglist:

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[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc - Bia <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!” 

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel. 

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor. 

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?” 

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved. 

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic. 

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.” 

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.” 

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in. 

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.” 

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.” 

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.” 

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.” 

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other. 

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile. 

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.” 

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.” 

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.” 

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw. 

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her. 

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.” 

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look. 

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out. 

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider, 

“...My parent’s divorce,” 

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time. 

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding. 

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more. 

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.” 

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand. 

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway. 

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel— 

–Who had the most distressed look on her face? 

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe. 

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…” 

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you. 

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–” 

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma? 

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…” 

“I’m going through a divorce.” 

Everyone turned to Mr. G. 

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.” 

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.” 

“What was that?” Hazel asked. 

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.” 

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’” 

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.” 

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.” 

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?” 

“I don’t, but I could see her–” 

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel. 

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her. 

“Hazel.” 

Hazel gulped in response. 

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–” 

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.” 

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look. 

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school. 

“Right now?” 

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.” 

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag. 

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?” 

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ. 

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!” 

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up. 

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.” 

“Things?” 

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”  

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked. 

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said. 

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” 

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches. 

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.” 

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day. 

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect. 

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time. 

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face. 

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing. 

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats. 

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious. 

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework. 

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?” 

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.” 

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you. 

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.” 

Hazel softened at your words. 

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.” 

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.” 

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her. 

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.” 

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. 

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction. 

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say. 

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—” 

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. 

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused. 

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.” 

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.” 

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.  

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath. 

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way. 

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy. 

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?” 

Hazel blinked.

“What?” 

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work. 

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.” 

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. 

I kind of do. 

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity. 

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath. 

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down. 

For a moment, you thought she would stay. 

But Hazel pulled away from you.. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.” 

And after a regretful look, she was gone. 

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!” 

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict— 

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this? 

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene. 

But Hazel was just a girl. 

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

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(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

[xxspringmelodyxx]

That Girl’s A Liar~

Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Here is part II my lovelies! Thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy! <333 | Part I |

"One of these days, you’re going to get yourself really hurt, Toru! You need to be more careful," I scolded the white-haired boy. I wrapped the bandage around his upper arm, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than getting distracted by his shirtless body.

Earlier that day, Satoru and Suguru had been dispatched to exorcize a particularly nasty cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a nearby town. The mission was supposed to be straightforward, but things quickly took a turn for the worse. The cursed spirit, more powerful than initially anticipated, had launched a ferocious attack. In the ensuing battle, Satoru had been injured, his arm nearly severed by a brutal strike. Despite the pain, he managed to defeat the curse with Suguru's help, but not without sustaining significant injuries.

Back at the school, I waited anxiously for their return. When I saw Satoru limping back with Suguru supporting him, my heart sank. Shoko immediately took Suguru to another room to tend to his injuries, leaving me to care for Satoru.

“Relax, Y/N. Tis but a scratch. It’ll take a lot more than that to truly hurt me!” he said with a cocky smile, his confidence radiating as usual. I looked at him with a deadpan expression, unimpressed by his bravado.

“This is not just a scratch, you idiot! Your arm was almost cut off from that curse!” I retorted, my voice filled with frustration and worry.

“Still, nothing can stop me. I’m literally the strongest sorcerer here in our high school. Probably of all time, too,” he boasted, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Toru, for the last time, I don’t care if you are the strongest sorcerer in the world! You are still a human being, not some indestructible weapon! You could still... never mind,” I started, trailing off as my mind filled with the horrifying image of him getting severely hurt, even to the point of death.

Toru’s smirk quickly disappeared as he noticed the bright blue skies outside the window getting covered by dark clouds. He looked at me with genuine concern, fully aware that the sudden weather change was my doing, a manifestation of my emotional turmoil. I was losing control of my cursed technique.

“Hey…” he said, his voice softening. He placed his uninjured hand on my arm, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

“I’m going to be okay, Y/N. You know that, right? I’m gonna be here for a long, long time,” he said, trying to reassure me. His attempt to comfort me only made my brows furrow deeper.

“That’s the thing, Toru. You don’t know that. And if you keep acting like nothing can stop or hurt you, you are going to eventually be met with a bad fate,” I said, clipping the wrap around his arm with a finality that echoed my worries.

“I… I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay?” I added, turning around to put everything away. My voice softened, betraying the depth of my feelings and the fear that gnawed at me every time he recklessly threw himself into danger.

Toru sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I get it, Y/N. I really do. It's just... this is who I am. Protecting people, fighting curses—it's what I'm meant to do. But I promise you, I'll be more careful from now on," he said, his tone earnest.

I sighed. "You better. Because if you keep scaring me like this, I might just have to find a way to tie you down and keep you safe myself," I said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'd like to see you try," he teased. Toru felt his body warm up as he absorbed my words. Did you really care about him that much? The thought seemed to surprise him, stirring something deep within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. Maybe, just maybe, you possibly felt something for him as well? Or did you mean it as a friend? These types of questions pondered his mind as you continued to put the medical supplies away.

“Okay, that should do it. Now let's get out of here before Utahime sees us,” I said, turning around to face him. As I did, I realized how close we were to each other, our faces only inches apart. The sudden proximity made my breath catch in my throat, and I could see the same surprise reflected in his eyes.

We both instantly tensed up, the proximity catching us off guard. The air between us felt charged, a silent tension simmering just below the surface. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my heart began to race.

I quickly pulled away from him, feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. “S-Sorry. I-I didn’t—” I stammered, struggling to find the right words to diffuse the awkwardness. My mind raced, trying to process the unexpected closeness and what it might mean.

“No, don’t be,” he interrupted, his voice softer, trying to compose himself. He reached out and gently touched my arm, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “I, uh, didn’t mind,” he added, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic vulnerability that took me by surprise.

Now all that was left was an awkward silence between us, the unspoken tension hanging heavily in the air. We both stood there, not knowing what to say next, the moment stretching out longer than it should have. Thankfully, a miracle happened when Suguru walked in, his presence breaking the silence and startling both Toru and me.

“Hey, you two. Shoko and I were thinking about going out for dinner tonight. You two are coming with us. I don’t care what you say. Shoko has been on my case all week saying how we need to all hang out,” Suguru said, instantly sensing the tension between us. He noticed how red Satoru had gotten, causing him to smirk.

“Well… I’ll just be waiting outside for you two when you’re ready,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Just as he began to leave, he turned to face Satoru, giving him a knowing wink.

Toru just flipped him off, trying to ignore the rapid pace of his heartbeat. “That guy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no real malice in his tone.

I chuckled, grateful for Suguru’s impeccable timing. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?” I said, trying to ease the lingering awkwardness. My heart was still pounding from the earlier closeness, but I tried to act normal.

“Nope. But maybe it’ll be fun,” Toru replied, a hint of his usual confidence returning. He ran a hand through his hair, still looking a bit flustered. “Let’s get going before they come back and drag us out,” he added, offering a small, somewhat shy smile.

As we made our way outside, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. The unexpected closeness with Toru had stirred something in me. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he felt the same.

“So, dinner, huh? Any idea where they’re planning to go?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light and avoid the tension that still lingered.

“No clue, but knowing Suguru, it’ll be somewhere decent,” Toru replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. He glanced at me, his eyes searching mine for a moment. “You okay? You seem… a bit off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping to sound convincing. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. And, you know, you scared me today with that injury.”

Toru’s expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm again, this time more deliberately. “I’m sorry about that. I promise I’ll be more careful. I don’t like seeing you worried,” he said, his voice sincere.

“I appreciate that, Toru. Just… take care of yourself, okay? I need my study partner with me at all times.” I joked, feeling a strange mix of relief and lingering tension.

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before we continued walking.

*****

Dinner with Suguru and Shoko turned out to be more fun than I had expected. The restaurant was a cozy place near the edge of town, known for its delicious ramen and lively atmosphere. The walls were adorned with colorful posters and fairy lights, giving the place a warm, welcoming vibe. The inviting aroma of rich broth and sizzling dishes filled the air as we walked in. Shoko was already there, waiting for us at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted us.

“Hey, you two lovebirds!” she teased, her grin wide and mischievous. Both Toru and I blushed furiously, glancing at each other awkwardly.

“Cut it out, Shoko,” Toru grumbled, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. Despite his annoyance, there was a playful edge to his voice that made me smile.

As we settled in, the conversation flowed easily. Suguru recounted a hilarious story about one of their recent missions, complete with exaggerated impressions and wild gestures. Shoko chimed in with her dry wit, and soon, we were all laughing.

Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Toru. His laughter was infectious, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled, and every time he laughed, my heart seemed to flutter a little more. I wondered if he noticed the way I looked at him, or if he felt the same way.

At one point, Toru caught me staring and our eyes locked for a moment longer than usual. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. Did he know what I was feeling? Did he feel it too?

“You okay?” Toru asked, his voice soft and concerned. He leaned in slightly, his presence calming yet thrilling.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “This place is really nice. Thanks for bringing us here, Shoko.”

“Anytime,” Shoko said with a wink. “I knew we all needed a break. Plus, watching you two dance around each other is the best entertainment.”

“Shoko!” I exclaimed, my face growing even hotter.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru added with a smirk. “You two have been acting strange ever since we got here. Just saying.”

Toru cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s just enjoy the food, okay?”

We all laughed, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. As the night wore on, the laughter and camaraderie made me feel more at ease.

Midway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to steady my racing heart. Why was it so hard to just tell him how I felt? Every time I thought I had the courage, something held me back. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or perhaps the worry that it would change everything between us.

When I returned to the table, I saw Aksana entering the restaurant. She was hard to miss with her striking blond hair and confident stride. As soon as she spotted us, her eyes lit up, and she made a beeline for our table, her gaze zeroing in on Toru.

“Hey, Satoru!” she greeted, her voice overly sweet and completely ignoring the rest of us.

“Aksana,” he acknowledged her with a nod. His usually bright eyes seemed a touch colder, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was annoyed by her sudden appearance.

“Mind if I join you guys?” she asked, not waiting for a response before pulling up a chair next to Toru. She slid into the seat, her proximity to him making my stomach churn.

Suguru and Shoko exchanged glances, sensing the tension immediately. Suguru raised an eyebrow at me, while Shoko gave a small, sympathetic smile. I tried to focus on my food, but Aksana’s presence made it difficult. She leaned in close to Toru, laughing at his jokes in an exaggerated manner and touching his arm whenever she got the chance.

“So, Toru, I heard you had a pretty intense mission today,” Aksana said, her voice dripping with false concern. “You must be exhausted. Maybe I could help you relax later?”

Toru shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the attention. “I’m fine, really,” he replied, trying to gently brush her off. “Just needed some time with my friends.”

“Oh, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed you for a bit,” she insisted, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Right, Y/n?”

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Actually, Aksana, we were in the middle of something. Maybe another time?”

Aksana’s eyes flicked to me with what seemed to be disgust, her smile faltering for a split second before she regained her composure. “Oh, of course. I just thought Satoru might like a change of company.”

Suguru, sensing the rising tension, decided to step in. “Actually, we’re all having a really good time together. It’s been a while since we all hung out like this.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, adding, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting us all to hang out again, so tonight seemed like a good night to do so.”

Aksana’s smile was tight, clearly masking her irritation. “Oh, well then, don’t mind me. I’ll just be sitting here, listening to your stories.” Her tone was overly sweet, but the fake smile gave her away.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The food was delicious, and the conversation lively, but Aksana’s presence cast a shadow over the fun. She kept trying to insert herself into our conversations, making pointed comments and giving Toru lingering looks. I even almost lost control of my cursed technique because she kept hugging his arm. And by that I mean the winds started to pick up like crazy outside, causing the doors to blow open, which startled a lot of people. Shoko thankfully brought me back to my senses, but it was still so aggravating to see Aksana practically throw herself on Toru. By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling more confused and frustrated than ever.

Toru walked me home, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The night air was cool, and I could feel the tension building with every step. Finally, we reached my doorstep. I turned to him, searching for the right words to express my feelings.

“Toru, I…” I began, my voice trailing off as I looked into his deep blue eyes.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his gaze fixed on mine, full of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Before I could continue, my phone buzzed with a message from Kai. He needed help with the science project again.

Damnit, I forgot we needed to start working on that.

I recalled the scene vividly, etched into my memory like a photograph frozen in time. The classroom hummed with nervousness as Mr. Takahashi dropped the bombshell: a major science project due at the end of the semester…two months away.

—flashback—

“Y/n, you’ll be partnered with Kai,” Sensei Takahashi announced, gesturing towards Kai who was grinning nervously.

Kai’s eyes met mine briefly, and I could sense his relief mixed with a tinge of apprehension. “Looks like it’s you and me,” I said, offering a reassuring smile to calm his nerves.

“Yeah, for the next four months,” Kai replied, his voice tinged with what seemed to be disappointment. I looked towards him and found his eyes looking at someone else. I followed his gaze and saw him staring at another girl in our class, Amai, his expression softening with admiration.

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I noticed Kai's subtle admiration for Amai. It was clear that he had a crush on her, which I thought was adorable.

"W-What?" he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught.

"Nothing, just thinking," I replied casually, suppressing a smile as I reached for a pencil and paper.

"Now, let's start brainstorming some ideas. What do you think we should do our project over?" I initiated, launching into a discussion about potential topics. Despite the distraction of Kai's crush, we delved into a detailed exchange of ideas, weighing the pros and cons of each suggestion.

—end of flashback—

I sighed, feeling torn between my responsibilities and my emotions. This moment was slipping away, just like so many others.

“Never mind,” I said, forcing a smile to hide my disappointment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Toru nodded, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes that mirrored my own feelings. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if I had just spoken up. Would he have understood? Would it have changed anything? The weight of my unspoken feelings pressed heavily on my heart. I turned and went inside, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind replayed the evening’s events over and over. Aksana’s blatant attempts to get Toru’s attention, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at me, and the unspoken words that hung between us. It was all too much to process, and sleep came slowly.

*****

The next day at school, I was determined to talk to Toru, to finally clear the air between us. The tension that we had yesterday had been gnawing at me all night, and I couldn't bear another day of uncertainty. I spotted him near his locker, and with a deep breath, I began to make my way over.

As I approached, I noticed Aksana was already there, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

”Oh Toru, you’re really a great guy!” She praised, spotting me in the distance. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she continued to talk to him.

“You know, I actually need help with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me with it now since we have some free time?” She asked. As Toru was about to answer, he spotted you in the corner of his eye and turned towards you, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips, making my heart flutter with anticipation.

I smiled back and quickened my pace, but just as I was about to reach him, Kai stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Y/N, I need to talk to you about something," Kai said urgently, his voice low. Toru's smile faded slightly as he noticed the interruption.

"Well, actually Kai, I'm kind of in the middle of something important," I replied, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

"Please, Y/N. It’s about Amai," Kai insisted, his eyes pleading. He leaned in closer, ensuring our conversation remained private. "I need your help."

Confusion flickered across my face as I looked up at him. Meanwhile, Toru's eyes narrowed, a twinge of jealousy evident as he watched us.

"What's going on, Kai?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the awkward timing.

Kai glanced around nervously before speaking. "I want to ask Amai to the dance, but I have no idea how to do it. I need your help to get to know her better."

I smiled softly at him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Toru's jaw clenched subtly at the sight. "Kai, the dance is still a while away. You have plenty of time to get to know her," I said, trying to calm his nerves.

"But that's the problem. I'm so nervous around her. I need someone to be there when I talk to her. Please, be my wingman," Kai pleaded, his desperation clear. He grabbed my hands, his earnestness almost palpable.

Toru's gaze darkened at the intimate gesture, his jealousy simmering just below the surface. I nodded towards Kai, deciding to help him after I got talk to Toru.

"Okay, I'll help you," I said, squeezing Kai's hands briefly before pulling away. "But wait here for a moment, I need to handle something first."

Before I could take another step, I saw Aksana grab Toru’s arm, her voice still bright and cheerful. “So, Toru, about that homework…” she trailed off, leading him away. My heart clenched slightly as I watched them walk off together.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?" Kai asked, his concern evident.

I sighed, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over me. "Yeah, let's just go," I replied, my voice heavy with frustration. The chance to clear things up with Toru had slipped away again.

*****

"Wait, I need to talk to—" Toru started, quickly removing Aksana's hand from his arm. He turned around, his eyes searching for me, but he was too late. I was already walking away with Kai.

"Are you alright, Toru? You seem tense," Aksana asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the change in Toru's demeanor.

Toru forced a smile, trying to mask his frustration. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about some stuff," he replied vaguely, his gaze lingering where I had disappeared with Kai. The sight of me with someone else stirred a mix of regret and irritation within him.

Aksana's eyes followed his, her brow furrowing slightly. "Is everything okay between you two?" she asked gently, her voice soft. Aksana knew what she was doing. She feigned concern, but inside, she relished the friction between us. It was her chance to step in and take my place.

Toru hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's... complicated," he admitted reluctantly, his thoughts still consumed by my departure with Kai. The unresolved tension gnawed at him, leaving him unsettled.

Aksana nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," she offered, placing a hand on his arm. He quickly removed it, the touch making him uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Aksana," he said, forcing a polite smile. His mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of you, and the conversation he desperately wanted to have.

“So, shall we go to that small little cafe and you can help me with the homework?” She asked.

"Sorry…I gotta go," he added abruptly, his voice strained. Leaving Aksana behind, he walked away, his emotions in turmoil. He needed to clear his head and find a way to resolve the growing tension between you two.

Aksana huffed as she watched the white haired boy leave her alone in the school hallway. She tapped her foot, folding her arms together as if she were in thought.

“Looks like I need to play harder…”

____________

Part III coming soon!

Taglist:

[spectres-n-soap]

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back - Ghost x You x Soap

Content Warnings - pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, panic attack

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You look at yourself in the mirror, you feel different. You feel like you’re getting better and you have expressed this to Dr Miller, told him how you think you’re starting to get better.

He had smiled at you, congratulated you but also warned you that healing is not linear. Much like an old scar, sometimes it’ll ache and you might find yourself hurting all day. You, being a soldier with a few scars that did happen to ache some days, took this like cough medicine. You knew that healing wasn’t linear. How many times have you broken something or needed stitches? You knew that healing was never as easy as it sounded. But today, you felt good. You’ve been feeling good all week despite the anxiety at the back of your mind, like a predator readying itself to strike at the unsuspecting prey. But you suspect it and therefore aren’t prey. You aren’t prey.

Simon peaks his head into the bathroom, checking on you like a mother hen. Last week, after returning home from dinner, you hadn’t just taken a step forward. You felt like it was a giant leap.

”You can sleep in the bed.” You murmured, finding it hard to meet his eyes when you said it.

”You’re not taking the couch.” Simon said gruffly and you cannot help the way your eyes rolled.

”No you wanker, I mean with me.” You huffed, annoyance washed away any sense of apprehension about offering this to him. You had been feeling bad about him sleeping on the floor next to you just so you could hold his hand on nights when you find it hard to sleep. Which seemed to be every night when you weren’t holding his hand.

Simon clutched the steering wheel of the vehicle, his knuckles nearly go white. You don’t notice it or pretend not to. He can’t tell, not when he has to focus on not crashing the car from the shock of you saying that. Finally he manages to speak again, “Okay, if that’s what you want.” He was not shocked to see you had put a pillow wall between him and you. He expected and found it surprisingly easy to settle into bed.

You smile at him, a thing that you feel like you’ve been doing more often. Yesterday you had smiled so wide your cheeks had hurt when Simon had brought home your favorite takeout while you had taken a short nap on the couch. “You sure about this?” He asks again and you roll your eyes with a smile.

”You sound like a dad.” You tease as you walk past him and grab your slip on shoes. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be good for me, even my therapist says so.” You comment as you slip the shoes on with a little more trouble than normal. You frown just a little, your feet have become more swollen. God damn it.

”I’m just making sure.” Simon says as he grabs your purse and hands it to you. “You’ll call me if you need me, right?” He asks and you can see the worry in his brown eyes. Genuine worry for you and you pat his bicep reassuringly.

”I will Simon.”

The group is nice. Although most of the women are a little less far along as you, they welcome you in with open arms. People discuss names for their babies, the genders and how excited or nervous they are. One woman, a pretty woman named Linda who is closest to you in terms of months, immediately brings you into her small group of women. They chatter and blessedly, don’t try to pry into your life. They don’t ask about your husband or the gender of the baby, the only thing they ask about is the name.

Your cheeks turn warm when you admit you hadn’t looked into any baby names yet. Linda gasps, jokingly, and offers you her baby name book, saying “I’ve already got my baby girl’s name picked out. I’ve had my eye on it since I was a little girl. I read it somewhere. Ophelia, how pretty of a name is that?” You smile and agree that it's a beautiful name. For once, you wonder if the baby is going to be a boy or a girl.

Everyone settles down when the teacher(?) starts. She goes over some things that every parent needs to know once the baby is here. How to make a bottle of milk, how to change a diaper, how to help get the baby on a sleeping schedule so you don’t go insane from lack of sleep and resources for postpartum depression. The class, overall, is wonderful. Most of the stuff you knew about but you have a feeling half of the reason for these classes is to know you aren’t alone and to make future new moms.

You’re walking up to Linda with the intention to give her your number so the two of you can text about the struggles of being this far along in a pregnancy. How achey your feet are or how your favorite foods seem to have been ruined. You stop dead in your tracks when you see her husband, it must be her husband since you saw the ring on her finger, come up to her.

All the warmth in the room seems to be sucked out when you see him. Messy brown hair, a bright and mischievous smile with a matching set of bright blue eyes that remind you of those springs in Florida that somehow keep getting advertised to you despite living in the UK.

He looks exactly like Johnny. So much like him that for a moment you think it is him until reality comes crashing down, you watch him smile down at her and kiss her tenderly. Your stomach lurches and your eyes burn, breathing becomes a struggle as you turn on your heel and rush towards the bathroom. You shut the door and lock it behind you, ignoring anyone who tries to talk to you and throw up into the toilet. You retch up your breakfast and that little fruity drink you had grabbed on the way here. Hot tears run down your face as you heave up everything in your stomach and then some.

You fall back, the taste of bile in your mouth only adds to whatever is happening as you sob. You grab at your hair as you cry and wonder what is going on. Why is this happening? Why now? You were doing so good! What did you do wrong? You should have never left the house, should have listened to Simon and stayed home.

Simon.

You fumble in your bag and shakily unlock your phone, immediately finding his contact in your phone and calling him. “Simon.” You sob into the line and he immediately knows.

”I’ll be right there luv, stay on the line with me yeah?”

”Okay.” You warble out as you struggle to breath past the sobs that shake your entire body.

”You got to breathe luv, can you do that for me? In, hold for three, out.” Simon talks you through it on speaker as he immediately begins to drive to you.