#if i don’t keep myself in check somewhere i know myself well enough to just drop a project

[ramshacklerumble]

by god or devil, i WILL be finishing the third page today

[alotofpockets]

Meeting again | Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where Leah saves the day and sets up Liam's class with a visit to the Emirates.

Thank you @totaly-obsessed for letting me bounch ideas off of you for this one!

Meeting again universe | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k

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When you check your phone after waking up, you see a text from Leah. Her name amongst your notifications instantly brings a smile to your face.

Leah: Hey, good morning! Can I pick you up at 11 for that coffee?

You text her back instantly, no longer being scared of messaging her, after you’ve spent the evening together last night. After doing some stuff around the house, you get ready, and wait for Leah to pick you up.

At the coffee shop Leah went to order for the both of you, while you found a spot to sit. You were admiring your surroundings, when Leah headed your way with two cups in hand. “No coffee for you?” Her placing a mug with hot chocolate down in front of her peaks your interest. “Oh, yeah, I don’t drink coffee.” She says with a shy smile. “Why didn’t you say so when I asked you out for coffee? We could’ve gone somewhere else!” Leah shakes her head instantly, “Don’t worry about it, I was happy with the invite to see you sooner, and this place has the best hot chocolate in town.”

You fall into conversation with Leah just as easily as you had done yesterday. With years to catch up on, there were enough topics to keep you talking. Though, even if you had fully caught up with Leah, you think you’d still find topics of conversation to get to stay talking to her.

The first time you got quiet for a moment was when Leah said, “I’ve been trying to piece together how we stopped being friends all those years ago.” Your eyes fall to your lap, it had been your fault that the two of you stopped being friends. You wish things would have been different, but then again, you would not have Liam. Liam meant the world to you. “I remember us being really close, and then some rumours spread.” Your eyes meet her nervously. You noticed a slightly hopeful look behind her eyes, as if she was never fully able to understand what happened back when you were kids. So, you took a deep breath and started talking.

“Okay, the rumour, the one where it spread around the school that I liked you, was never actually a rumour.” Leah’s blue eyes pierced into yours. “Oh?” A part of Leah felt relieved that those almost moments between the two of you growing up weren’t just in her head. “Yeah, basically I confided in Maria, one of my best friends, about my feelings for you, because they were confusing me. You know as a teenager finding out that the feelings you’re meant to be having for a boy, you are feeling for a girl.” Leah nodded in understanding. “Well, she was apparently very homophobic, and decided to tell the whole school. I stopped being friends with her instantly, and you know the rest. I got together with Ryan to get people off my back, and put distance between the two of us. I think I even convinced myself for a moment that I could be straight, but yeah that’s not me.” 

You let your eyes meet Leah’s again, there was no anger or hurt behind her eyes, just softness and understanding. “I am truly sorry about how everything played out, and if I hurt you in any way, that was never my intention.” Leah reaches for your hand on the table and gives it a soft squeeze, “You have nothing to apologise for. What Maria did is truly terrible, and I wish I could’ve been there for you at that time. All of that is in the past now though, and we cannot change it.” Her hand stays on yours. “You’re right, we can only focus on the future.” The blonde smiles and nods. “Well, that was a lot deeper than coffee would have gone, but I’m glad we were able to talk about this.” You both laugh. “I should really head back though, I have to pick up Liam from school in a bit.” 

Leah drives you back to your place, and the two of you share a hug when you arrive. “Thank you for today. We should do this again sometime.” Leah says, and you agree instantly, “Yeah, I’ll text you later?” And you did. After Liam went to bed that night, you were texting back and forth with Leah all night, until you fell asleep with the conversation still open. 

The next time you saw Leah, you and Liam watched her play on Sunday. You were rather far from the railings, but Leah found you amongst the crowd and set the both of you a wave when the match was over. 

Since Liam missed Leah for dinner the first time when he had invited her without your knowing, and it got you to reconnect with Leah, you decided to invite her over for dinner that night with the both of you. You decided to make pizza together, since you found out that alike your son, Leah’s favourite food was pizza. Leah was amazing with Liam, you admired the two of them as they were busy chatting, while decorating their pizza’s. 

While you sat down for dinner, you talked about your plans for the week like you always did with Liam, but now including Leah. You had always found it important to know what was ahead, especially since Liam was at his dad’s for half of the week. You had given Leah the honours of talking about her week first as the guest, she told you about her work schedule, and some other things she had planned for the week. Then Liam wanted you to go next, so you shared your work schedule, and your plan to spend your days off with. Liam wanted to finish off the round, he told you about his plans with Ryan, and what he knew about school. “Oh, and mom, what are you doing for the class tomorrow?” Your brows furrowed in surprise, “What do you mean, bud?” 

“It’s your turn to do the class trip tomorrow, do you not have anything planned?” Liam asks in a worried tone. “Buddy, I’m so sorry, but I don’t know anything about it being my turn.” He stood up from the table and you were instantly worried, luckily he came right back with his backpack. “Here, Miss Owens sent this out.” He hands you a letter, informing the parents of the switch in schedules, and it did indeed show you for tomorrow. “Buddy, if this is still in your backpack, I have not seen it yet.” Realisation hits him, “Oh mom, I totally forgot to give it to you. What are we going to do?” Leah, who had been quiet during the interaction spoke up, “I think I might have an idea. I know it’s not my place, but I think I can help, may I?” She looked at you for permission. “Yes, please, I do not have the right connections to take a class out for the day this last minute.” 

Leah got up, “Alright, I am going to make some calls and I will make sure you will have a great day tomorrow, I promise.” She told Liam. She headed into the other room, and started planning away. About thirty minutes later she got back into the kitchen, “Alright, everything is set for tomorrow. I will keep it a surprise though, are you both okay with me coming to class tomorrow?” Liam instantly said yes without giving it a second thought, his friends would finally believe him when he said that he knew Leah Williamson. You nod as well, “Thank you so much Lee.” Leah’s heart started beating faster at the nickname she hadn’t heard from you in such a long time. She smiled and sat back down for dessert. 

The next morning Leah was at your door bright and early. You were busy packing Liam’s lunch when she knocked on the door. “Liam, can you get the door bud?” He came walking into the kitchen pulling Leah behind him, “Mom, Leah still won’t tell me what we’re going to do.” You smiled at the scene in front of you, a frowny kid, and a smirking Leah. “Don’t look at me, Leah went out of her way to arrange this for you, so let’s allow her the one rule she set in place for this.” He let go of her arm. “Fine.” He turned to Leah, “I am grateful that you did whatever it is that you did for me, I just would really like to know what it is.” She put her hand on his shoulder, “I know kiddo, just a little longer, I promise it will be worth the wait.”

You and Leah wait outside of the classroom, while the teacher starts out the day. “Thank you again for doing this, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Leah shrugs, “You would’ve figured it out, you’re a great mom. I am glad I could help though, I hope the kids like it.” Leah zipped down her jacket to reveal her Arsenal jersey. “By the looks of that, I think the kids are going to love what you have in store.” Leah is about to say something back, but Miss Owens tells you the class is ready for you. 

The two of you step in, and you see the jaws of many kids in Liam’s class drop. “Hi kids, as many of you know, I am Liam’s mom. Today, I have brought someone special with me. I would like you all to meet Leah Williamson.” You introduced her to the crowd, “Hi, I’m Leah, and Liam told me you were looking forward to doing something fun with the whole class. What would you say if the Arsenal players bus was waiting just outside of the school?” The class erupted with excitement. “Would you all like to go and see?” Miss Owens calms down the class again before heading out, “Jackets please, and wait in a line outside of the classroom.”

Leah takes the lead and takes the kids to the players bus. At first they admire it from the outside, where the whole class takes a picture with Leah. Then Leah invites them to sit inside, once all the children are settled, Leah gets on the microphone and starts talking to the kids, and interacting with them. “So, who wants to go to The Emirates Stadium with me?” You couldn’t believe that Leah pulled all of this off in thirty minutes. She sat and talked with the kids, while you talked with Miss Owens. 

After a short tour, Leah guided the kids to the family and friends area of the stadium. “What do you all think of one more surprise?” The class starts cheering again, and right on queue, a group of Arsenal girls walk out. Katie McCabe, Lotte Wubben-Moy, Beth Mead, Vivianne Miedema, and Kim Little, greet the kids with waves. They all have a little meet and greet with the kids, before it is time for them to head back to school. Leah thanked the teacher, and waved bye to the teacher and the kids. Since it was already the end of the school day, and she wanted to show Liam some more behind the scenes things, she asked the teacher if it would be alright if she took the kids back on her own, with a promise of getting her some signed copies of her books for her own kids she agreed.

Liam was living his best life hanging out with his favourite players, like they were friends he had known all his life. Lotte walked up to you as you were watching him talk with the girls. “So, you and Leah go way back I hear?” You smile at her, “Yeah we do.” You and Lotte talk for a bit before she gets pulled aside. “It was nice meeting you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you the past couple of years.” Lotte’s eyes widened when she realised what she had just said, Leah had just walked up to you, and her cheeks turned red instantly. “Sorry.” Lotte said before quickly walking back to the rest of the girls, and whispering something into Katie’s ear. The latter turns to you, “Mind if we show Liam around some more?” You shake your head and return your attention back to Leah.

“So, you’ve been talking about me for years, have you?” You didn’t think it was possible, but her cheeks turned even redder. While Leah was nervous, she felt like it was now or never. “I mean can you blame me? You are pretty hard to forget.” You’re the one with blushing cheeks now. Leah’s words hang in the air, and you feel a warmth spread in your chest. The way she spoke those words, makes you feel like maybe, she has felt the same way all along. 

“The feeling is mutual,” You reply after taking a moment. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I mean how could I forget the girl that was always able to bring a smile to my face, even on my worst days? I think I already proved that though, by coming to most of your matches.” You both laugh at the last comment. “I’ve missed this.” Leah reaches for your hand out of instinct, “You laugh, your smile, and just having you around.” 

Your heart is beating a million miles an hour, by the way she was looking at you right now. In that moment, when her ocean blue eyes stare lovingly into yours, you realise that perhaps the rumours, the misunderstandings, and the years apart were merely obstacles on the path to this moment right here. “I’ve missed you too, Lee. Remember when the other day we said that we can only focus on the future?” Leah nods, and rubs her thumb gently over the back of your hand. “I hope you’re a part of that future.” You nervously look up at her again. 

Leah gave your hand a soft squeeze, “I hope so too.” Her smile grows bigger as she continues, “I’ve thought about what could have been with us so many times, but right now, all I want is to be here with you, and see where time leads us.” Your smile grows just as big as hers is, Leah had felt the same way about you all of this time. “Would it be inappropriate to kiss you at your place of work?” Leah pulled you closer by the hand she was holding, and moved her other hand to your cheek, gently moving her finger over the soft skin there. “I am not working currently, so I think that should be alright.” She leans in the rest of the way, and after all these years of will they won’t they, and what could’ve been, you finally felt her soft lips on yours. 

A loud “Ahem” pulls you away from the blonde. You turn around and find Liam, Katie, and Lotte looking back at the two of you. Before you can say anything Liam turns to Katie and Lotte with a proud smile on his face, “I told you they would get together sometime soon!” Katie high fived him while you laughed, of course Liam had talked about your love life with the two people that were probably sharing Leah’s right back. Leah put her arm around your shoulder, and walked towards the group. “Who’s ready for some dinner?” Liam hugs you from your other side. “Mom, this has been the best day ever, can we please make it even better with McDonald’s for dinner?” You look around the group of girls left over to see if they’d be down too, when you get three nods, you look back to Liam. “Let’s do it.”

As you walk out of the stadium with Liam’s hand in your left, and Leah’s hand in your right, you couldn’t be more happy. 

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[unicyclehippo]

ok so i submitted a story for a competition & didn't get far but i was pretty happy with it so imma post it here for y'all. pls enjoy!

YEAR OF THE WOLF

Blood and shampoo wash pink down the shower drain. My body aches, back hot with pain. I gotta stretch more, I think, before remembering what time of month it is.

I’m not stupid, I want that to be known up top.

Tired? Yes. A bit forgetful now and then? Certainly. Overly reliant on blind optimism? Of course. Who can afford for things to go wrong these days? But stupid? No. Not about this, anyway. I’ve known for almost a decade that I’m a werewolf. I just thought if I ignored it long enough it would stop, or at least stay low on the list of important things I had to deal with—somewhere between turning thirty and the world burning down around our ears.

Still, it manages to take me by surprise each month. I see the blood, feel the shift-pull-crack of bones and vitals, the wet throb of viscera and organs, as my body reshapes itself. The wolf and I share a space not big enough for two; something must give way.

I lose time daydreaming about it. Transforming. My only plan for the day is work, maybe video games later, cooking dinner. I could call in sick. I could clear away the bathmat and towels and fall to my hands and knees and change into something bloody and terrible and wonderful, I could lay myself down on the soft carpet in the sunrays, decadent, I could leap from my balcony, powerful, and lope away into the bush off the track to explore the silver-blue of the leaves and the cathedral termite mounds, I could—

The shower pipes groan, rattle, and spit freezing water down onto me.

I don’t transform.

I towel off. The mirror shows me a human with the same soft features as ever. Shampoo suds clinging to my shoulders. Hair cut short and plastered down on chalk-white skin paler than usual. The doctor warned me low iron was a side-effect of transformation but I look myself over for another cause. Lift my arms, twist to check my back. There’s a pimple or two where my binder digs in but no injuries. I promise the doctor in my head I’ll bring it up at our next appointment.

My doctor is a careful woman, dedicated and precise. She sits primly and dresses well—her blouse is fashionable, flowery, her trousers professional and practical. She keeps notes in a leatherbound book and her thoughts securely behind her eyes. She asked me to keep track of any changes Inoticed. I pull out a crumpled receipt where I’d scrawled some notes.

tired

hungry

headaches

more dreams than usual

tired—oh I already wrote that down. still true

irritated way more by stuff?

jaw hurts?

‘Alright,’ she says, writing it down on her page about me.

I sit hunched opposite her, then fix my posture, then let my shoulders droop again, conscious of being too broad, too big. In the time it takes for her to commit a few brief notes to paper, I’m struggling not to get distracted by the lights and their electric buzz—the popping stop and start as the filaments crackle in the bulbs. My eyes wander over neat stacks of paperwork, a penholder with all the pens pointed in the same direction.

‘We’re going to order a blood test. You’re right, the fatigue and headaches could be an indicator of iron deficiency.’

‘Okay.’

‘Do you know if there’s a history?’

‘Of…iron deficiency?’

She smiles. ‘Of lycanthropy.’

The question makes my head spin. There’s been some excitement about there being some genetic predisposition to lycanthropy (unconfirmed), which half my friends were leery of, seeing the research as another way for hunters to exterminate us, and half took to romantic spirals, daydreaming about their ancestors being just like them. But the doc is asking about, like, my parents and grandparents, and it makes me laugh.

‘No. No way.’ I think harder. Is it possible? My maternal grandparents, definitely not. But my dad’s parents…I don’t know that well. ‘I could ask, maybe.’

After the three haphazard sessions we’ve had stretching across eleven months, which chiefly feature my repeated and sustained reluctance to talk, she indicates her doubt with a quiet raised brow.

It’s fair. I don’t tend to do things I don’t want to do, even if they’re important. Sometimes, especially if they’re important.

At the end of our fifteen-minute session, she walks me to the door and beneath the stench of eucalyptus-scented cleaner that makes my nose itch and head ache, I catch a whiff of her cologne. Wood pine and wild.

I think about it all day.

Has she helped me because she’s like me? The thought races ahead of me, tempting; I sprint after it. I wonder what she wears at home. Does she google boxers for bed because they seem so comfortable? Does she veer at the last moment to Boyfriend shorts! Now in satin – for HER! Or does she kick the world off at the front door next to her shoes and just…exist. Is she like me? Just a person who does things? Or is she a woman who does things? Or a person who does woman things or a woman who does womanly things or a woman who does things knowing they’re not womanly and caring or not caring? Does she splinter the cage that would contain her and let the hungry animal of her body carry her to meat and sleep and hunting and to the warmth of her partner at rest?

Is she like me?

As a kid, I wanted to take karate. My brother wanted to sing. Somehow, I ended up in the music class. It was in a demountable that creaked, off-key, with every step and stunk of the creek next door. The singing teacher had a red round face and told me not to sing too loud—I was practicing to be part of the choir, I should be part of the group. That group was made up entirely of nervous and near-silent girls who shivered with the desire above all else not to stand out. (I learned that part well.)

On the other side of school, my brother stood in karate class with a teacher who ignored him and older boys who picked on him—he was short back then, with baby fat still on his cheeks, and had a close relationship with boredom and distraction that came from being smarter than most.

Once we figured out the joke being played on us, our places switched, we made a pact to teach each other what we learned. It didn’t last. Within three lessons, I spent more time on the walk to the classroom than in class; I dawdled in the fields and by the creek, tracking beetles and digging for dinosaur bones in the mud. When I did arrive, it was twenty-five minutes late with dirt under my nails and finally the teacher told me not to show up. My brother took a faster approach and called the teacher a moron. Mum had to pick him up early from class and neither of us learned very much.

My gran lives hours away and I never got the impression she liked me much. I think about sitting in her drawing room, the sticky-sugar smell from bottles of fancy port on the shelf, and her sitting opposite, eyes hawklike, mouth pursed and tongue sharp. I don’t visit her. I think about asking my dad instead and, while he does like me, he doesn’t like werewolves and I’m not ready to risk exile.

I get my blood drawn. The doctor prescribes iron pills and congratulates me on my teeth coming in.

My mother doesn’t like my sharp teeth or short hair or the way I sit. I want to tell her I didn’t do anything to my teeth; that if anyone is to blame for the handsome jut of my canines, the neat, careful way they can tear flesh from bone, it’s her. She made me. But saying stuff like that only opens up the room for more questions.

‘Do you like it? Looking like that?’

It will hurt her if I say yes. When you are a daughter, wanting to change means you don’t want to become your mother, which means you don’t love her.

I can’t say no.

The wolf stirs. It wants me to say yes. It loves fiercely and loves me most of all. But it isn’t the one who has to live here—work, be a daughter, a sister. It won’t be the one who has to listen to my mother tell me to be sure before I tell anyone else because there’s no going back and people will hate me for it, just for being, and that she can’t support me doing that to myself, that it’s against the god she’s never thought twice about, and has someone talked me into it?

I’m not ready for that.

‘It’s just teeth,’ I say.

She shakes her head but doesn’t ask any more questions. I think she’s scared I’ll tell her the truth.

am i a coward?

My friend Luna takes a long while to answer.

While I wait, I wash the dishes I’ve been “soaking” for three days; the kitchen smells of dish soap when I’m done and the world is a little cleaner. Outside, my balcony is drenched in sunlight. I make my coffee and sit out there, turning my nose to the wind. Somewhere close by, someone is cooking chicken loaded up with paprika. It’s more accurate to say they’re burning chicken. Next door, my neighbour digs through the rich dirt of their garden and plants rosemary and lavender.

My phone lights up.

No, she says. Then, Why do you ask?

the whole werewolf thing. i won’t transform, wont tell my family.

This reply is much faster. Definitely not.

i feel like one

First of all, you transform when it’s right & as much or little as you want & that changes from person to person. Second, being safe is not cowardly.

yeah

Do you want to tell them?

The coffee is gorgeously strong. After a few gulps, I feel like someone has brushed the cobwebs out of my head.

it’s like. there’s this version of me in their heads that isn’t real yknow. like im not a person im a cloud in person shape & sometimes they get a glimpse of my hand or whatever. & its safe inside the cloud its harder to hit me but . they cant see me

Mm

sorry i know this is teenager shit

In the distance, a fire alarm starts to blare.

No it’s good. I get it, obviously. And you know my parents were awful when I told them but we go running every month now. The question isn’t “am I a coward”. The question is, are you prepared to confront that version of yourself in their heads? Are you ready for it to change?

i wish i knew. how it would change i mean. bc i feel like if i knew for Sure that they would take it badly then that’s one thing & i could deal w that. & if i knew theyd be fine w it i could deal with That but. i don’t know. & its freaking me out. but it’s also like…ok i don’t live w them, i’ve got a job, idont rely on them for anything. what real bad consequences could there be?

Dots pop up at the bottom of the screen. They disappear after a minute, then reappear, as Luna takes her time to answer. Finally, she says,

By announcing the real version of yourself, you open yourself up to vulnerability. Things that didn’t bother you before will feel uncomfortable or hurt because it touches you. And when you change the way that you exist in the eyes of people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, you invite the possibility that they will reveal the love was in fact conditional & not for you, that you somehow failed to live up to the person they imagined you to be

mate i’m already scraping the bottom lol

You’re wonderful, Luna says, because she can tell when a joke isn’t really a joke. Her worst trait. If they can’t see that, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.

yeah

You don’t have to tell everyone. You could pick whoever would take it best & get someone on your side. When I take too long to answer, Luna sends a string of photos—her dogs, her family in matching hiking shirts, the view of the nearly full moonon her side of the world. I’m on your side, she says. Always. Let me know how it goes.

The full moon burns, beckons. We are both gloriously awake this time. I have never been more awake. The sky is a black lake and when it rains we taste space and stars and smog. The stairs are slick with the rain. On all fours we are sure, quick, eager! The grass is waiting for us! Splendid! Everything is incandescent in silver, including me. The grass—dew-wet, green scent full in our nose—invites us to roll in it, sticks its seedlings to our fur, tagalongs on our adventure. We run! Smell everything! ticklegrass wetmoss possum pee BUG rough brick mud SPIKY plant big tree lavender dog smell road gutter old leaves bird feathers vinegar shARP on my tongue bag crinkles between our teeth

The days’ heat still smoulders on the surface of the road. We are standing in the centre of it, massive, when a car crests the hill. It stops, engine rumbling and blue-glare lights illuminating us. It waits for us to cross the road before driving on. The driver stares from their seat. In one easy jump, we clear the fence and disappear.

Three more streets and the road ends. The world is huge, bigger than I could have imagined. There’s dirt here! dirt mud rocks beetles scuffling under the leaves koala musk leads to claw marks at the base of trees.

The wolf likes it when I’m awake. It wants to show me the world. Look, its questing nose says, look what you miss out on when you sleep.

It takes us to a termite mound and we listen to them sing.

We stay out all night, trekking through the pocket of national park. I am the biggest thing in the forest. Nothing frightens me. We find a creek filled with every fascination the world has to offer. Ten thousand wet stones, bottle caps, an ill-tempered fish.

When the sun rises, I am sore and covered in blood. I call my brother to pick me up. I stand by the edge of the park to wait for him; at the bottom of the hill, the highway stretches out like a grey branch, cars buzzing along it like bugs. A firefly splits off from it, flying towards me.

The yellow of the headlights cuts through the trees. Inside the car, my brother jumps when he sees me and the light reflecting off my eyes. The wolf is still awake and we move fast and strong to the passenger side door.

He knows.

I can tell. Smell it on him, see it in his uneasy posture. He knows and still I can’t say it. It feels like I’ve swallowed a bird whole, alive. It trembles, stuck in my throat. When I think about talking it pecks at my tongue and if I open my mouth, if I try to explain, he will see my bloody tongue and the bird and he’ll see me all wrong, all the ugly brutish parts of me I’d like to keep hidden, if I can.

The wolf is still awake. It isn’t scared; it is massive and powerful, it can bite through anything, it can run forever without getting tired. We can. And if there is ever a time to talk to my brother, to let him know who I am, it is now.

I do not want him to think I am a bloody-mouthed girl.

I want him to know I am not a coward. I am myself, a werewolf, alive and finally happy for it.

The wolf yawns. I catch a glimpse of my teeth in the mirror, sharp.

‘Hey.’ Of all the ways to break a very tense silence, it’s not the worst. ‘Thank you. For picking me up.’

He risks a look at me, away from the road. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’

A muscle tics in his cheek as he chews on silence. He’s upset that I won’t say more. So am I. I want to. The bird is in the way. I have always had to trick myself into talking; it is never easy, not in doctor’s office, not in my parents’ home, not in the forest, or my brother’s car.

We slow. Ahead, the traffic lights paint the dashboard red. The car shivers around us, idling. I can feel it shake through my bare feet, dirty and scratched up from the rocks, pressed to the rubber floor mats.

The first word comes out like a pulled tooth.

‘I—need to say.’ He glances my way. I think, briefly, about jumping out the window but the light turns green so I can’t. I have to talk instead. ‘I’m a werewolf.’

He drives. I realise he must have been waiting to talk, really talk, because this is the first time I’ve been in his car without music playing.

‘I think the proper term is lycanthrope,’ he says, finally.

‘Dude.’

‘Sorry. Just, medically speaking...’ He shakes his head. Drums his fingers against the wheel. ‘How long?’

‘I dunno.’ I do. A decade of knowing and doing nothing about it. Almost a year of thinking very hard about it and doing slightly more.

He knows me better than my doctor; both his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, entirely unconvinced.

‘I’m still me,’ I tell him, because that’s what everyone says in books and movies. I guess it’s what you’re supposed to say. What I want to say is that I’m more me than ever. What I want him to say is thank you, and I’m his favourite person, and that he understands how hard it was for me to share but he’s proud of me. But I would have to ask for that and the bird in my throat won’t budge.

‘Okay. Wow. So… Are you going to move? Change your name? Are you going to get claws? A tail?’

‘Okay, never ask me that again.’ He laughs. ‘And no. I don’t think so. I kind of like that it’s not super obvious. It’s no-ones business but mine.’

‘And mine now.’ I think he’s smiling, a little. ‘Why did you tell me? If you don’t want anyone to know?’

I wish I was still a wolf. If I were a wolf, I would howl and people would understand. The tenor, the tremble, the shivering cadence. There would be no need for picking the right words, no eye contact, no consequences for an ill-timed joke, no shame for feeling everything so big and weird, like there’s a forest in my chest and a songbird choir blocking up my throat. My hands itch as the claws retract under my skin and I fight to keep from scratching, fidgeting. I turn to stare out the window.

To his reflection in the glass, I say, ‘I want you to like me.’

‘Of course I like you—’

‘I’m louder like this,’ I whisper. He looks unconvinced, which is fair. I’m still hiding. ‘Messy. Bigger and stubborn and hairier and angrier. It’s not the wolf. I’m like that too. I wanna be like that. Real. I’m so—I’m so tired. All the time. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to be me and I want you to like me as me.’

My back aches as everything in me crunches back into place. The wolf is asleep and it has left me alone with my words and my brother.

‘I really love you,’ he tells me as he pulls up outside my house. He puts his hand warm on mine. He doesn’t flinch at the blood. He hugs me close. Plucks a leaf from my hair.

My brother offers to come with me to tell our parents. It probably would have been smart but I’m still wary. If it goes bad…I don’t want him to see that.

‘How did it happen?’ my mother asks when I’m done, like it’s something you can catch.

For a moment, I entertain the thought of lying.

Do you remember my uni friend? Verne? Well he’s part of a pack and if he brings in three new werewolves over three months, and they each bring in three new werewolves, he gets a bonus. Why? Are you interested in this exciting new life opportunity?

I can’t joke about it yet. Worst outcome, she thinks I’m serious about it being a some kind of cult. Less worse but still bad outcome, she thinks I’m being unserious about the whole thing. Nevermind that I have thought about it every day for ten years, this inevitable confrontation, this moment where I have to explain myself, defend my existence, back up my claims with proof and research like it’s my thesis. I tell her,

‘It just made sense.’

She likes that less than she would have if I’d joked about it, gets all stiff and pinched.

‘It doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t understand where this is coming from—you’re human. You’re not –‘ She shakes her head. ‘Maybe if you left the house more often. These things you’re imagining about yourself, if you were around more people…you’re not like that. You’re lovely,’ she insists. ‘You’re not that.’

It should hurt to hear. It probably does, in a way I’ll feel five years down the line, and I’ll wish that I had bit back, told her that just because she thinks there’s something wrong with me doesn’t make it true.

My dad hasn’t said anything.

When I look at him, he’s staring down at his plate. He eats everything on it, even the tomatoes he usually tries to hide under the broccoli stems. Then he stands, puts it in the dishwasher, and walks away.

‘It’ll pass,’ my mother tells me. ‘You’ll come to your senses. This won’t last—don’t do anything permanent. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.’

Don’t give in.

Don’t transform.

Don’t smile wide enough to show your teeth.

Don’t tell anyone else.

I realise I’ve been trying my hardest not to do anything, like being nothing would be preferable to being me. When did I get the idea that to starve would be better than anyone seeing me hungry?

‘I don’t want to hide anymore.’

‘But it’s no-one’s business,’ she insists. ‘I don’t understand why anyone needs to know, I mean, I don’t go around telling people I’m human.’

The words sound different coming from her mouth but they’re the same.

It’s no-ones business but mine. That’s what I told my brother and I thought I meant it but now I think I was still scared. Biting off bits of myself before anyone pulled out the silverware and cut it from me.

There’s a bird in my throat and the little bastard is choking me. It’s not fair. I don’t want to die without saying what I mean for once.

I bite down on it, blood between my teeth.

‘It’s not the same thing,’ I snap. There’s a gorgeous growl to my words I’ve never heard before. No one told me that would happen. I love it. I love the sound of my voice. ‘No one tries to kill you because you’re human.’

‘Exactly!’

When I stand up fast, chair scraping against the floor, she freezes. Caught between telling me to pick up the chair first and not knowing how to talk to a monster in her daughter’s skin.

It hadn’t occurred to me that telling the truth wouldn’t change just me.

Staring back at my mother, I find I don’t much like the woman I see. If that’s what awaited me, I’m glad to have changed. The world is huge and beautiful and painful and I am kinder, stronger, hardier for it.

I pick up my bag from the floor.

‘I’m the same person, it’s just now you know I’m a werewolf. When we went out for lunch last week? Werewolf. When I got you groceries when you were sick? Werewolf. Every birthday, holiday, every vacation we’ve had since I was nineteen? Werewolf.’

She looks sick. Puts a hand on the counter to steady herself.

When I get home, I’m going to curl up in my closet for a week. The bird is going to come back any second now with backup. Eagles, this time. ‘I’ve had a really long time to think about this and you haven’t so I’m - I’ll give you time. But you should know that I’m happy and healthy and safe. All the things you said you wanted for me.’

As I leave her house, maybe for the last time, I hope she’ll call. I don’t know if she will.

I have been sleeping better and dreaming more. In my dreams, I am always the same. I have a wolf head, with sharp teeth and keen eyes. I sing with a powerful voice that has unsettled for centuries. I cannot see my pack but I can hear them out there, howling. My body is the same; the only difference are the claw marks across my flat chest, red and raw and careful. I am not dead, only transformed.

[lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer]

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”  

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.  

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.  

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.  

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.  

“How would you have known an actor?”  

“Well, if you must know, I was-”   

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.  

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.  

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”  

My face went bright red, and I huffed.  

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”  

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”  

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”  

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”  

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.  

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”  

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.  

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

“No chems.”  

*** 

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.  

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?” 

I shrugged.  

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”  

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.  

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left. 

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”  

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.” 

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”  

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”  

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.  

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.  

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”  

*** 

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.  

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”  

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.  

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.  

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.  

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.  

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.  

*** 

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.  

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.  

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”  

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”  

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.  

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.  

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.  

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.  

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.  

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Calabasas, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.  

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.  

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

Part 2

[babishfantasies]

I promised - part 12

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

The first thing I noticed was how hard and uncomfortable my mattress felt. Why did it feel like this? I usually have no concerns about it, but for some reason it felt wrong now. I moved sideways, trying to find a better position, still too sleepy and wanting a bit more rest before I have to start my day. That’s when I noticed it. Something big, soft and squishy between my legs.

I’m puzzled by the feeling, so I go and check it with my hands. It’s indeed soft and squishy, and it hugs my crotch rather intimately. It’s also damp, or so I figure since my skin there is moist and a bit sticky. I move the covers and sit on my bed. Wasn’t I somewhere else? Anyway, I check the thing with my eyes now, and as soon as I see it, it all comes back to me, though I am more confused than not at the realization.

The diaper is bloated with what appears to be my urine, the one from the dream I assume. The one inside the crib. A dream that felt all too real to not be a dream, but considering where I am now it can’t be any other way. I see how the enlarged part has yellow coloration that contrasts with its plain white color, making it evident that it’s soaked with pee. My pee. The one I made during a dream about being inside a crib wearing a diaper and a onesie.

Oh fuck, I’m getting panicky now. I need to get this off me. I’m currently wearing nothing but the diaper and a t-shirt, so I frantically search for some pants to cover it, at least until I can get to the bathroom and take this thing off. In my panic, I grab a pair that’s way too tight and struggle to fit into them. Why did I pick something so tight? Am I stupid?

Just as I’m trying to pull the pants down I hear someone walking towards my room. Oh no, it’s her. If she sees me like this… I don’t even want to think what’s going to happen. She’s the one that put this thing on me in the first place. Did she expect me to end up like this?... Well, I did, and thanks to her I didn’t sleep on a wet bed.

I don’t have time for this. As her footsteps get closer, I realize it’s too late to remove the pants, so I push hard and manage to get them over the soaked, bloated diaper, covering it for now… or at least hiding what’s inside. Because it’s pretty evident that I’m wearing a diaper right now, the outline bulging under my pants. Why didn't I just take it off and throw it out the window instead? Well, it’s not like she doesn’t know I’m wearing it, so this should be enough to keep her clueless… for now. There’s still the problem of how I’ll get rid of the thing.

As my mind frantically races through every possibility, I consider jumping back into bed, but that would be stupid considering I’m wearing pants now. I’m in the middle of looking for what to do to look as casual as I can when she barges in, prompting me to lock eyes with her.

God, she’s so gorgeous. This time, she’s wearing an open satin robe over her lingerie, her voluptuous body almost in full display. She might have realized I was kind of in a daze while looking at her because she made this playful smile while approaching me. “Oh babe, you’re already up.” She said with a sugary tone. I started to feel more relaxed for some reason, something about her presence and demeanor felt reassuring. That feeling only got stronger after she hugged me and kissed me on the forehead, taking me out a bit from my panic state. Not long after, I found myself easing into her hug, feeling even more at ease in her comforting embrace.

I was too lost in her breasts, her milky scent invading my senses, to notice one of her hands moving down. It was too late when I felt her squeezing my crotch, not in a sexual way but as if she was trying to get the feel of it. “It seems like my baby had a little accident while sleeping” She said in a soft, tender tone.

Her hug eased most of my anxiety, but that didn’t stop my embarrassment, my cheeks now fully red as I realized she had already figured out what I tried to hide so hard. She, almost feeling my anxiety, squeezed me closer to her. “It’s all right, that’s why I put those on you before putting you to bed, sweetie”. I could feel my eyes getting glassy now, don’t know if from the humiliation of this whole situation, or maybe because I was moved by how genuinely worried and caring she felt right now. Perhaps it was both.

I felt, once more, mute and vulnerable in her presence, something I’ve started to get used to by now. Not long after her check, she broke the hug and knelt down to pull my pants off. She inspected my diaper, touching it and giving it a couple of squeezes before she pronounced “Oh! It’s completely soaked, dear. We need to get you out this thing right now”. She grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom, forcing me to waddle all the way, not just because of my diaper, but also because my pants were still around my ankles. She threw me a couple of looks during our trip, making what I can only describe as a condescending smile while she looked at me pathetical move behind her. My cheeks were even redder now. What was she going for with all this?

“Ok honey, let’s give you a bath. I’m sure that will make you feel better” She said motherly as she helped me out of my pants and took my shirt off. Once I was down to my diaper, she took me inside the shower and began to remove the tapes of my diaper, then she took it off me and bundled it into a small package, using the tapes to secure it. It struck me as if this wasn’t the first time she did this, which was odd to say the least.

The fresh air around my crotch felt nice, stopping me for the moment to realize that, once again, I was naked in front of her. I wasn’t as modest this time though, but I couldn’t help myself from feeling a bit self conscious about the whole thing. Meanwhile, she was taking off her robe, getting ready to join me in the bath. Or so I thought, because she didn’t do so. Instead she opened the water, checked the temperature, and when it was adequate she ordered “on the floor, babe”, to which I obeyed without protest. At first it felt odd, how she was soaking me with water using the showerhead as if I were a dog or something. It was when she started to rub me with soap that I started to take a liking to it. Her soapy hands felt soft and caring on my skin, her rubbing feeling almost like a massage. She didn’t spare any parts from her caring touch, and certainly not the one in most need of cleaning.

She took special care of my crotch, spending three cycles cleaning and rinsing that area. Suffice to say, I started to get a bit excited from this, but she didn’t seem to notice at all. She kept cleaning me as if nothing was happening, even humming as if this was some kind of chore. I felt a bit ignored honestly, I even started to doubt that she was into me all that much. I mean, it would be hard to say that now considering she was cleaning me like this, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was treating me more like someone she had to care for than anything else.

Despite that, the shower was great. I came out of it feeling refreshed and content, though still a bit sore from her ignoring me like that. But now that I think about it we haven’t had sex so far, despite feeling like we had. All of those times it’s been mostly me going in my pants, or in a diaper. Is she even into me at all? Or does she want to keep things like this? What am I to her? Just some toy she can treat like… well, like a baby? The thought made me feel miserable. I certainly didn’t want that. Even if some of the stuff we have made felt good. Really good even. Amazing actually.

As I pondered my insecurities, she dutifully dried me with a fluffy towel. This wasn’t one of my towels, so I assumed it must be one of hers. It felt amazing on my skin, it was really soft and comforting, and she made sure to move it around me in a way that only enhanced that feeling, surrounding me in the soft material as she pat me everywhere, taking away the moisture and giving me what felt like a second massage after the one she gave me in the shower.

After I was dry, she enveloped me in another towel, this one also soft and comfy, but dry. The fabric felt positively amazing against my skin, and due to the size of the towel it nearly enveloped my entire body. She then took me under her arm and we began to walk towards her room. During that I kept coming back to the shower, and her seemingly lack of interest in my private parts. I couldn’t contain it anymore, it was bugging me too much. It took me a great effort to do so since I was still in a bit of a daze from all of this, but when we made it into her room and she took me in her arms I said “hey… can I ask you something?”. “Of course, baby. What’s happening?” She said with a sweet smile. I got nervous, scared even. Though I had my concerns about what just happened, I didn't want to ruin this. Whatever this was. That fear only got worse as I rested in her arms, my face close to her chest. The scent coming back to me, making me feel weaker. Still, I managed to speak, though in a sheepish tone. “what are we?”.

She gave me a devious smile, or at least that’s how it felt to me. Superficially It appeared to be a maternal and caring one, but something made me feel that underneath that smile there was something far more twisted than that. And so it must be, since she responded by taking off her bra, her breast now dangling from her chest in all of their massive glory. That alone was enough to quell most of my curiosity, but when she started to take my body, with the soft towel surrounding it making every move feel like a soft caress, near one of her milky breasts, I could feel how that last trace of curiosity was fading away.

As I was hungrily feeding from her tit, her hands roamed all over me, patting and rubbing my back and legs. And so, just like in the shower, I started to feel excited again, and if things were to go on like this I might have another accident, but not like the one I found myself this morning. She knew this, so before it could happen, she slid a diaper up my legs. It took her a while to do so, as she had to keep me pressed against her with one hand while sliding the diaper with the other, but she eventually succeeded in doing so, sliding her hand under the towel clad body to make sure my diaper was safely secured.

And working as a charm, not too long after I was safely padded, it happened. She felt my body trembling a bit and squeezed me closer, enhancing my climax, sending waves after waves of pleasure all over my body as I felt her plump body tightly pressed against my smaller and delicate frame. I came, with all of my emissions safely contained within my diaper. Meanwhile, I never stopped suckling, and even while making soft moans, I dutifully suckled and swallowed all of her delicious treats inside of me, not wanting to waste even a single drop of her sweet gift.

She kept me close to her for a while, letting me enjoy the wonderful feeling of having her so close to me, as I was coming back to that feeling of fussing with her, the one I felt the first time I drank from her bountiful bosom. After a while I felt her moving me towards her other breast, to which I resumed my suckling, now entranced by her loving embrace, her delicious milk filling me with sustenance and care. “Don’t worry about it, baby” She said softly while scratching my head. “Just let Mommy take care of you”. I kept suckling, but could hardly process her words, too overwhelmed by how vulnerable and safe I felt at the moment. “That’s all what Mommy wants. And by the looks of it, that’s all you want too” She said as she squeezed me, but not as tightly as before. This time it felt more tender and loving. Like a mother lovingly holding her baby, entranced by how frail and dependent her baby is on her for anything, completely lost without her guidance and care.

part 13

[trashy-tries-writing]

Part 2 Cracked Helmet

Part 2 or short epilogue(?) of the cracked helmet just because :))  Hope you enjoy! :DD (There’s so many comics, TV-shows and movies about DC. Where do I even start?? Also not a fan of the angst comics, I saw some scenes- Why is everything only sad sad sad??? Yeah I’m skipping that- also skipping Injustice League. Saving myself from that insanity AND WHY ARE THERE SO MANY CHARACTERS?! As if it isn’t already hard enough with Marvel😭)

With the mission ending on a successful note despite the tiny- issue at the end, 141 takes a breather on the helicopter as they return back to base.

Ravine watches from underneath the safety of his helmet as his teammates chattered. Seemingly moving closer and closer to the corner he has chosen to retreat to, his personal space almost- almost about to be invaded by Soap and Gaz.

They try to drag him into the conversation with Ravine only answering in short words as he usually does.

Albeit the blood soaked soldier had his attention somewhere deep in his mind. Ghost doesn’t miss the instants where the quiet man brushes his hand over his pant pocket.

The chinook lands, time passing by like a blink of an eye. Price jumps out from the co-pilot seat, his legs marching towards the cabin of the helicopter with purpose.

He dislikes bringing the atmosphere down as much as the next guy, but he needed the details from Ravine’s own mouth. With a quick sigh, he dismisses his team and motions Ravine to follow him.

Soap places a supportive hand on his back but it lands on nothing as Ravine steps back from him before trailing after the captain.

Soap sighs with a smile. ‘Guess I really just got lucky back there.’

Now it was Gaz’s turn to send him a smug smile.

“Heh, someone got rejected.”

“Shut up you’re just jealous he let me touch him first!”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Johnny.”

“Yeah, your head’s pretty big alre-.”

“WHAT?!”

Price looks over his shoulder, checking if Ravine was still following him to his office.

“Come on kid.”

He holds the door open, waiting for Ravine to go in on his own terms.

And as they sat opposite of each other, the silence stretched with Price staring at Ravine’s still form as if he was a statue, he opens his mouth, knowing the other wasn’t going to talk first.

“What happened?”

Silence.

“What happened for you to- kill them like that?”

Ravine leans his back on the chair, head tilted upwards to the ceiling.

He was talking about the fire.

His hand moves slowly, sitting up straight, he fishes a paper out of his pants pocket. Ravine lowers his head and hands over the crumpled piece of paper to Price, who unwraps it.

The captain eyes the picture of a father and a daughter grinning in his arms. The father glowed in the photo, his eyes filled with love for the child as he held her close.

Price doesn’t understand what Ravine wants to tell him but he sees his body trembling, hands balled into fists that blood dripped from his palms.

Price stands up from his seat, the chair almost toppling over.

“Is- Is this, this-”

He can’t finish his question, can’t even ask.

Memories flood back to him of the day he found Ravine inside his cell, the prison abandoned of life besides the giant man, draped over with fire like a blanket, sitting on a pool from a mixture of blood and remains of doctors and soldiers- everyone working in the facility.

Thick silence takes over, Price rubs a hand over his face at what this means- meant.

“This- Here… You should keep this.”

Ravine stills, his blood soaking the fragile paper before it went up in flames, shocking Price.

“No.”

He rises up from his seat, back turned towards Price as he leaves.

“They don’t exist. Not anymore.”

Price sighs heavily, a hand over his eyes and on his waist.

...What was he supposed to write on the report?

He needs to talk to Laswell... and probably Shepard as well since he was the one who sent him on that damned mission to find their new weapon.

That night when Ghost passed Ravine’s room, he felt unusually cold. He stills in front of the door. 

Typically warmth would seeth out from there, as if all heaters were turned on.

But now it felt like the room had been abandoned, emptied of any presence.

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

@livinglifebesticanlol @jackiebluh @cumbermovels @agspgrwasb

[brokenpieces-72]

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CoD Gangster AU | Navigation

Note: First off, this is a season 2 essentially, and the files on my phone are highly laggy, so new chapters will take extra time. Second, feel free to ask questions and make requests about this AU, it allows me to get a better idea of the world myself. Third, there is some christmas stuff on the way, just the holidays are crazy sometimes.

TW: Mentions of death, funeral, high emotions and angst, old memories, let me know if I missed any.

“We’re gonna need a new place to lay low.” Price announces. You sigh quietly. Of course, it couldn’t be as simple as going back to how things were. Pissing off one of the biggest and sketchiest names in the city was bound to force some hands. Makarov wouldn't just leave you alone, and with you still recovering, a new hiding place was pretty important. “Something simple, somewhat remote, low key. We’ll still be going in and out of here, but after Y/N got picked up, it’s clear they won’t hesitate to start looking around here. If they just have the single look over that would be enough for me, but we can’t be in here. Gaz you’ll need a new ride as well.”

“Nik’s already sent me some options.” Kyle confirms, tucking his phone away. “So open houses?”

“Even with our names cleared, there’s still the chance someone will say something. Milena’s in real estate, she could easily find us.” Simon says, sounding less hopeful.

“So bumming it for a while?” Johnny suggests. The other options would be asking Alejandro or Farah for cover, but they were in shallow water themselves. You lean back on the couch, the cat hopping down from Simon’s shoulder to the arm rest and over to your lap. You check the time again, to see if you could take another pain killer. Then you remember something.

“I might have an idea.” You say.

“We’re not asking Graves.” Johnny says. You shoot him a look, pressing your lips. He gives you a grin.

“Kay that was mean.” You say, with a few half smiles around you. “But no I have a place.”

“Where?” Price asks, folding his arms.

“…I have a house. Outside of the city, so it’s a bit more remote than you might want but it’s large enough, it’s in my name, there’s some bedrooms in the basement, the plumbing and electricity should still work.” You trailed off, realizing what this would mean. Going back to the house again and this time staying. The rest of the men were quiet. They were considering it. It would be easier than trying to find a place somewhere else in the city. At the very least they could use it while looking for a place within the city. “None of it should be on record.”

“…let’s get to work.” Price says.

Kyle’s new ride wasn’t half bad, a standard vehicle, five seats, and you were riding shot gun giving directions. You take a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt. It's just a house. A house you grew up in. A house you stayed up in. A house you celebrated in. A house you mourned in. You take a deep breath and walk up to the door, ignoring the glances from your friends. You keep your head down, as you step inside. It;s a little cold. You take off your shoes, asking the other’s to do the same, trying to ignore your surroundings, telling them where there are bedrooms, bathrooms, and the kitchen. You ask them to avoid a couple places.

Hearing no protests, you head upstairs towards one of the rooms you didn’t want them to go. You didn’t go to your father’s room, instead you go to your own. The door is shut tight. A room you knew well. You had to confront it. If you don’t you’d just hide again. You were your own person, what was on the otherside wasn't who you were anymore, you'd grown up. You could do this, confront it first hand. Your hand goes on the door knob, gripping it tight.

“Problem?” Price asks, making you jump and whip around. You didn't even hear him come up the stairs.

“N-no. Did you find a room?” You ask, after getting your heart to steady.

“We were going to but something in your fridge growled at us, when we passed." Price says. There shouldn't be any food in the fridge.

“Shit the ice maker.” You hurry past him, to shut it off. You swore you turned it off a long time ago.

Rooms had been sorted, food was being picked up, and Simon was getting the cat, so you took the opportunity to sit outside, in the overgrown backyard, on the swing that still hung from the tree. The same tree you fled to during the waking. The same tree you and your father had picnics under. The same… fuck.

You let your legs sway you forward and back, the rope still holding. You stare at a spot by the trunk, where the roots parted perfectly for you to sit in. The same…it was all the same.

You get up from the swing and took short steps to your favourite spot. You sit down and lean back against the trunk, almost perfectly shaped to fit you, even after all these years. A tiny smile forms. You chuckle shaking your head, at the thought of the tree welcoming you back home. There were a few tears, but you weren’t sure if it was emotions or just your eyes watering. You close them, letting the soft breeze help you relax. You were home. This was okay.

Last time you were here…

The crowd was too much, the people were too much, the black outfit was itchy, and you just wanted your dad to come home. The few small comments about the red scarf around your neck seeming inappropriate were getting to you. Graves was keeping a safe watch over you. You don't know if it was for your benefit or for his as he seemed to hover around you. All you wanted was to ask them all to leave.

Everyone kept coming up to you asking where you would be staying, and offering their condolences, saying how hard it must have been to lose your father so young, how much you reminded them of him, and a couple had said they hoped to see you grow into a remarkable cop like him. Stop. You wanted them to stop. Graves would usher you away anytime he noticed you starting to look uncomfortable or if he saw your ears growing wet. Then he would take you aside, telling you to be brave, wiping your tears.

As soon as Graves had his attention taken away from you, you made your move. Without warning you fled to the backyard, to the tree you’d spent so much time under.

You went there looking for your father, with the pain of knowing he wasn’t there. Your spot under the tree hid you from everyone inside. Finally, you could cry without anyone asking you not to or Graves reminding you to be strong. You tugged your black outfit around you tighter, burying your face in your red scarf. The tears poured down your cheeks, as you kept tugging, trying to feel your father’s arms around you again. You grew light-headed from your grasping breaths, and any words came out as squeaks. You wanted it all to be some dream, to wake up from it all. To find your father next to you in bed, trying to pull you of this nightmare.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair you lost him so soon. You missed him so much, he was all you had and the world took him from you. Monsters took him from you. It wasn’t fair at all. You wanted him to come over and tell you everything was okay. That it was some sick practical joke. But he wasn’t coming, because it was all real. You wanted them all to leave, to go away so you could be alone in the house by yourself. Just two of you together. But it was just you.

Someone sat down next to you, but your head was buried in your arms, and your knees to your chest. At first you didn’t notice anyone, too focused on the horrible. You flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Your head shot up and turned to the new arrival. The hand pulled away from you once you saw who it was.

“Here.” A glass of water was offered to you, by a man in a dark suit. He had a mustache and brown short hair. He was younger, likely a rookie. Another cop, not from the same precinct but you’d seen him before once or twice. When he looked down at you, there wasn’t pity but a sort of understanding. As if you’d come out here for the same reason as him.

You took the glass from him, taking small sips. The water felt good against your sore throat. You mouthed a tiny thank you.

“Alex Keller.” Alex said holding out a hand to shake. You shook it nodding. “You need anything else? Blanket? Some food? …me to fuck off?”

You let out a small laughing noise. Right now you didn’t know what you wanted. You shrugged in response.

“Uh… I um…” you stuttered, your throat filled with so many lumps there was barely any room for words. “I don’t… I don’t know…”

As your sobs returned Alex sat down next to you. “Okay, okay… once you know what you need, I’ll get it for ya.”

You don’t remember how long you and Alex had sat there for, with you just crying, and drinking the water. Alex had gone back inside at one point to refill your glass, and to get you a sweater, since the wind was picking up. When he came back out you overheard him talking to Graves.

“Are they okay?” He asked Alex.

“Graves not now.”

“It's cold out here, they should come inside.”

“They don’t want to be inside. Just leave them be.” Alex said, firm but calm.

Graves sighed. “…some people are asking about them.”

Alex shrugged, “and? Graves they just lost their father.”

“I lost my partner.” Graves reminded him.

“Phil.” Alex said once. There was a pause.

“Stay by them… please.” Graves asked. Alex nodded.

“They need time alone.” Alex stated, before making his way back over to you. Graves went back inside but he’d kept checking on you from the window. Alex handed you the new glass of water, your tears subsided for now.

“So… what do you want?” Alex asked. You finished your sip of water before answering.

“For the pain to leave.” You replied. Alex let out a small sigh.

“I asked your dad that once.” Alex said. “I hurt innocent people, and thought it was the right thing. Lived with that for a long time. Your dad came to me, hearing I was in a bad place. I sat with him in my house and asked him ‘when does the pain leave’. Told me it doesn’t and it shouldn’t. That it’s a sign to try something else.”

“Does it hurt less?” You asked.

“Over time. It becomes like a scar, it sticks with you but it hurts less.” Alex said. Up until that point no one had really given you a proper answer to that question. They just said it would take time, it will all be okay in the end, and your father was in a better place. You wiped at your cheeks and eyes again, using your scarf.

“Do you need a hug?” Alex asked. You nodded and moved closer to him while he put his arms around you. “Let it out. Trust me that will help you.”

Your tears continued falling, but you felt safer with Alex, than inside with Graves. You didn't know it but Alex felt his own heart crack a bit. He may not have been as close to your father, but your father stepped up when others seemed to fall short. When your father came to him, he had screwed up big time. If your father hadn't stepped in, it would have been a much different outcome.

“If you want some more help with the pain, screaming helps.” He suggested.

“Really?”

“Yep…you wanna scream?” Alex offered. You took a deep breath, about to scream. “No! No no!” Alex said quickly stopping you, chuckling. “Let’s not do it here, we don’t want to scare everyone inside.”

“Oh.” You said.

“Why don’t we head back in, get something to eat, and after everyone has left, we can go find somewhere to yell?” Alex offered. You nodded and held his hand as you both walked back inside. Now Alex stuck close to you, with Graves giving you some space to eat in peace. Alex was a comforting presence, and Graves was relieved to see you crack a smile from time to time. Eventually everyone had to leave, but you didn’t get to go with Alex afterward. Graves had insisted for you to stay home. Stay safe. You even asked him about the man you saw at the cemetery, and he told you not to worry about it.

Someone sits down next to you, and you open your eyes. Ghost looks at you, the stray on his shoulder. He looks like a ghetto Pokémon trainer or something with his dark jacket, the skull mask over his mouth and nose, and the cat hopping down to curl up on his lap.

“You doing okay?” He asks. You nod. He knows you’re not. The cat gets some pets.

“How’s the shoulder?” He asks.

“Still sore when I move it.” You tell him. He nods, and you two return to silence again. The winds picks up, making the branches above you, bob up and down. You take a deep breath. Simon takes a deep breath himself. Something about this moment… feels… right. You don’t want to ruin it but you have questions.

“Why did you stop Soap at the door? After you found out I was a cop.” You ask. Simon doesn’t have to think about it, but he takes time to form an answer.

“Soap gets heated when he’s dealing with shit he doesn’t like. I’ve seen the results and I didn’t want to see them again. Not on you.” The last three words he says quickly, as if he’s covering something with them.

“Thank you. For taking me in.” You say.

“That was all Price. Johnny told me about you, and then I told Price. When we were younger, we made a promise to keep you safe.” Ghost says. “How are your wounds?”

“Healing. Still some aches, but not too bad.” You say. You don’t look at each other. As soon as one of you looks at the other, you look at whatever is in a different direction. It’s back to silence again. Awkward silence. Simon was usually quiet though, you assume it’s a preference of his. So you two sit and simply… do nothing. The soft purrs from the stray continue from Simon’s lap. The soft breeze continues to rustle the leaves above. You feel yourself becoming more and more relaxed, and you slowly nod off. As your head starts to drop you feel an arm around your shoulders and a hand gently guiding your body to Simon’s shoulder. You take the last bits of consciousness you have to move a little closer, nestling into him. His fingers play with your hair, and you drift off.

Simon gazes down at you. You felt so safe with him. Then again, you hadn’t seen much of his real work.

Graves goes to your old apartment. Makarov was sending an officer, claiming you were now a missing persons. Phil wasn’t going to let anyone find you before he did. Graves knows you’re somewhere else but he wants to see you again. After sending you back to wherever you’d been with Alex, and seeing your injuries… he’d been struggling to keep his distance, wanting to see you. He made a promise to keep you safe, and screwed up.

Alex was refusing to give Graves anything on your location, as was Farah. The pub was closed for “renovations”. Stepping foot in Los Vaqueros territory was suicide, and bringing an extra officer - even Alex - was a good way to get into a fight. His number was blocked on your cellphone, or just wasn’t working.

Graves is able to get inside with a spare key, and is sure to lock the door behind him. Is this kind of creepy for a grown ass man to wander your apartment when he knows full well you weren’t home? Yeah, plenty creepy. But it was the only lead he had right now. He looked through the living room and kitchen, finding nothing. He does check your fridge to see if anything had gone off in there, and thankfully you’d long since cleared it out. From there he checks your bedroom, and… it looked almost cleared out. A few of your clothes remained, and he recognized them as yours, along with a few photos. He was about to check the bathroom next when there was a knock at the door.

Truth be told he wasn’t supposed to be at your apartment, but technically you weren’t either. He goes to the door and spies through the peep hole. He expects to see an officer, but he sees… what did this bitch want?

Phil opens the door making Milena look up with a bit of surprise.

“Can I help ya ma’am?” He asks, clearly unhappy. Milena just looks a back at him pressing her lips.

“Is Y/N L/N home?” She asks.

“Probably.” He answers. The two stare at each other expectantly.

“May I speak with them?” Milena asks, trying to keep herself composed.

“Don’t know, ya got their number?” Phil says, keeping himself wedged between the door and its frame. No way he was letting Makarov’s little birdie into your place, whether there was anything she could gain or not. Romanova was probably sent here to find dirt for Makarov before some half decent rookie could get any clues. Graves has already gotten rid of most of your existence from the station, but Makarov still had a couple leads.

“Are they here?” Milena asks plainly.

“No.” Graves says, as if it had been obvious. To be fair… kind of was. “Now please, leave.”

“What exactly are you doing in their apartment?” Milena asks quickly, stopping Graves halfway from shutting the door. He returned to the same position looking at Milena.

“The hell is it your business?” Phil asks.

“The land lord of the building is very strict about guests, and I don’t think he would appreciate-“

“Wait wait wait, hold up.” Phil says, chuckling. Was she implying what he thought she was implying? “I have a spare key to this apartment for just about any number of reasons.”

“What exactly is your reason?” Milena says crossing her arms. She gets a small laugh from Graves.

“Ms. Romanova… my relationship with my former partner is my business, and last time I checked you’re not a cop, there is no health assessment scheduled, and no eviction notice. So kindly see yourself out.” Graves says, and with that he slips back into the apartment, locking the door good and tight.

Phil knew what Milena was doing there, and it wasn’t just to see if she could sell the apartment. If it wasn’t to look for you, then it was to monitor him. He waits for a bit, checking your fridge again to see if there was the off chance you had any drinks. Then he checks the pantry, and… carbonated water? He isn’t picky right now. Taking a can he is sure to open it near the door. After that he simply goes to your couch and waits on it. Milena eventually gives up, and he celebrates the fading sound of heels with a sip. It’s room temperature, but… hold up.

Graves checks the can, reading the label. You hate this stuff. He knows he’s in your apartment. No mix up there. Then it hits him, and recent memories come back of him drilling in to you, lecturing you, and then the night you came back all beaten and bruised.

“And what have I done? Nothing! I’m a glorified tagger that’s what you said right?! Fine! Then I’ll be one! You gonna arrest me then?”

What had he done to you? He knew he fucked up in more ways than one but the realization finally hits him in the gut. Throughout the time you’d known each other he was trying to make you in his own way. He was toughening you up and setting restrictions between the two of you. You got the drink for him, not yourself. The few times he’d come to your apartment before the case, you offered one to him, but he was always just there for business. On a few occasions he’d spent time with you but it was always to make sure you didn’t give up on being a cop or as a sort of reward for hard work.

The whole time he’d wanted a student, a cop. Your father wanted you to be safe and he did that, but he had only pushed you away. Put you on some pedestal for him to start sculpting. At what point did you stop trying?

Philip Graves sits in your apartment, drinking and wondering how hard did he fuck up and not realize it. He wasn't your father, but neither were you.

When you wake up, you’re on the couch in the basement, with a blanket and pillow. You groan, trying to figure out where you are and how you got there. It’s almost foreign to you, this world you’ve woken up in. Slowly you sit up and shove the blanket away. Tea, you need tea. You make your way up the stairs, and emerge into a small hallway that leads to the front door on one side and the kitchen and living space to the other. Simon greets you in the kitchen, giving you a nod. You put the kettle on and sit next to him at the island. Without thinking you rest your head against his shoulder. Simon turns his head slightly but doesn’t move. It’s just you two.

It’s odd yet natural, like revisiting an old show. This feeling of domestic bliss between the two of you is something neither of you are used to, but still remember from a long time ago. Right now it’s just the two of you. You’re where you want to be and where you need to be, right here. The kettle continues to boil, the skies are grey outside, and the stray is curled up in a box with her kits. Simon likes this. It’s warm and comforting having you so easily pressed against him. It’s not something he’s used to, nor he engages with on his own. There’s no need for him to oppose you. It brings you closer to him, easily. There is peaceful silence between you and Simon, and neither of you breaks it.

Soap does.

He comes upstairs, and peeks around the door to basement, seeing the two of you. There’s a war going on in his head. Does he bug you, ruin this moment to get your reaction or take a photo and tease you about it later. He takes a photo of the two of you first. Then Kyle comes up behind him.

“Johnny what are you doing?” He says. You and Ghost both hear Kyle and you get up from your seat to get your tea. It’s like you missed your cue, and now you’re hurrying across the stage to meet it. Both you and Simon are pink in the face. You can hear Johnny’s exasperated sigh, missing the opportunity to take the photo.

“Really?” Soap says quietly to Kyle, as if he knew what Soap was doing the whole time. “They were having a moment.”

Kyle ignores him and just nudges Johnny forward, wanting to get some coffee. His statement doesn’t ring for him until he sees it’s only you and Simon in the kitchen. He pauses but then continues with getting coffee.

“Mornin.” Johnny says, annoyed. You return his greeting as you make your tea.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @theotheronedotorg

[vicsnook]

Good Luck, Babe! Pt. 2 | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 2004

warnings: mentions of abortion& throwing up

notes: Hey y’all! As promised, here is part 2 for Good Luck, Babe! Hope y’all enjoy and part 3 is definitely coming soon. As always please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

I’m pregnant.

I slide down to the floor and sob. How could I have been so careless? How could I have let myself be in this situation? I can’t even take care of myself, let alone a baby. And the worst part is that Jake’s gone and I have no idea how to contact him.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, I finally feel steady enough to stand. God I wish Mer was still around, she would have been the only one to not judge and help me figure things out. I never realized how alone I’ve been until now.

Calling my mom is definitely out of the picture, I was already freaking out enough for the both of us. I do know having this baby would be the most irresponsible thing I could do. I can hardly afford my apartment and to get groceries as it is. But before making that kind of decision, I need to talk to Jake.

Unfortunately for me, it’s only Monday and the Hard Deck is only open on the weekend. I check to see if I still have Mickey’s number but of course I deleted it. Just my luck, guess I’ll just have to wait till Friday to hopefully break the news.

-

I stare at the Hard Deck from the front seat of my car while getting major deja vu from the night everything changed. Peering around the parking lot, I don’t spot Jake’s truck or Mickey’s car. Finally, after what feels like hours but was really only 5 minutes, I open the car door and head inside. It’s now or never.

The bar looks exactly the same as last time minus Jake and Mickey. I check all over and they’re nowhere to be found. Worry starts to creep in that I’m going to have to do this all alone.

I take a seat at the very end of the bar and the bartender comes right over. “What’s it gonna be, honey?” she asks, looking at me pitifully with her big brown eyes. “Just water, please,” I respond, feeling like she can see right through me.

I nursed my drink for almost an hour before giving up. Heading out to the beach, I notice the sun starting to set and couples walking hand in hand by the shore. Tears well up in my eyes as reality starts to finally sink in but I swallow them back down, hoping he might still show.

Making my way to the car, I notice the parking lot is now even more packed than when I arrived. I peer around the rows looking for Jake’s truck but still no luck. Sighing, I get in my car and let the tears fall down.

Putting the car in reverse, I look in my rearview mirror and immediately put the car back in park once I catch a glimpse of him. Am I dreaming or re-living that night?

I hurry out of the car and sprint towards the door but once I make it inside, regret fills me up from head to toe. How can I do this? Maybe I should just leave. But I don’t even make it to the door when his hand catches mine and spins me around to face him.

Those green eyes that gave me the best night of my life and also left me with the worst result, now are staring into mine. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asks, while leading me to a table in the corner. “Is everything okay?” he says, turning my face up to look at him and I can see concern etch in his features when he notices the tear stains on my cheeks.

I sit down on the chair and brace myself to say what will surely change everything. “I’m pregnant.” His eyes widen and I regret the words that just came out of my mouth as he looks down, digesting what I just said. “Are you sure?” He finally manages to say and I nod, wishing the Earth would just swallow me whole.

“Let’s go somewhere else. This isn’t a good place to talk about this,” He blurts out, getting up. “There’s no need for that Jake. I just came to tell you and to say that I’m not keeping it.” He stares at me in disbelief and I know whatever he says next, I definitely won’t like.

“Are you crazy!? You’re not getting rid of our baby. Absolutely not. Now come on,” He hisses, grabbing onto my arm and practically dragging me out of the bar while I plead with him to let me go. Thankfully when we make it to the door, someone bumps into Jake.

“The lady asked you to let go of her arm Bagman,” says the man in the Hawaiian shirt who has the best mustache I’ve ever seen. His smug look tells me that this probably isn’t good.

“Mind your fucking business Rooster,” Jake says, his face turning red with anger as he tries to pull us around Rooster. But before we can make it out the door, once again Rooster has blocked our path.

“Let go of her right now, or I will have Penny ring the bell on your ass,” threatens Rooster to which Jake chuckles sarcastically. “I mean it, Hangman.”

“It’s okay, really,” I whisper from behind Jake. Beginning to get uncomfortable by the stares we were getting. All I want is to leave and pretend this never happened.

Jake looks back at me and gives me a grateful smile then turns back around. “You heard her, Rooster.”

Rooster looks over at me again and I nod reassuringly , trying to make him move which he thankfully does and I feel his eyes on my back until we’re outside the bar.

The weather is muggy and the smell of cigarettes makes me feel sick. Before I can even make it into the car, I pull my arm out of Jake’s grasp and bend over, throwing up on the bushes. His hand immediately goes around my waist to steady me while his other one holds onto my hair which normally would make me smile but I can’t focus while emptying the contents of my stomach.

After catching my breath and wiping my mouth with my shirt, I feel Jake’s hands pull back. All I wanted to do was turn around and cry on his chest but instead, I head to the car while he follows.

His hand closes my driver's side door as I try opening it and I turn around annoyed. “What Jake? You left. No note, nothing. I came here to tell you as a courtesy. Now please move, I don’t feel well and just want to go home.” I half yell, exasperated, he still looks angry but at the mention of my well being his anger dissipates and is immediately replaced with concern.

“Let me drive you home so I can explain please. I’ll Uber back here for my truck.” He pleads, and being that I still felt sick and a headache was starting, I consider it. But I think back to him leaving and decide against it. “I’m fine, Jake. Please let me go.”

Unfortunately, my words immediately betray me as I push him off to the side and turn around to throw up again in the grass.

“See, you’re not fine, I’m taking you home. End of discussion.” Jake states firmly as he leads me to the passenger seat and takes my keys.

Thankfully he remembered where I lived so the drive was silent. The only thing I knew for sure was that this was bound to be another long night and not the fun kind.

-

Once inside, he helped me over the couch and went to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water.

“How come your fridge is empty? He asks, looking at me curiously while taking a seat beside me. My cheeks flush in embarrassment as I answer. “Being a paralegal doesn't pay much, Jake. That’s why I can’t keep this baby, I can hardly afford myself as it is.”

He looks ashamed before quickly replying,“Honey, it wouldn't just be you who’s responsible for this baby. I can afford it and more. We’ll probably have to get married so that you can -”

“Married!? Have you lost your mind?” I shriek. What the hell was he thinking? A month ago he hit it and quit it and now he was proposing wedding bells. I think I’m going to be sick again. But he continues on like my reaction didn’t happen.

“Well yes, darlin’. I know we got some steps out of order but you’re having my child, of course, we’re getting married.” He says, like it’s common sense and I don’t if I want to kiss him or slap him.

“For fucks sake Jake, I hardly even know you. I can’t marry you nor can I have this baby.” I say, pulling my knees close to my chest while my head throbs in pain. God I wish I hadn’t let myself get so depressed when I realized what he did and thought of taking the morning after pill.

“Well we have 9 months to get to know each other and I think that’s plenty. People nowadays marry even sooner than that.”

His tone so matter of fact it made me want to strangle him. This couldn’t be happening, surely I’m just having a nightmare. Jake definitely isn't in my living room proposing we get married and be a family, right?

But after pinching my arm he was still there watching me. I needed time to think but with him there it’s like any rational thought flies out the window.

“Jake, I need some space. Please. I’ll think about what you said but right now all I want is to be alone.” He opens his mouth to object but I add, “You can come back tomorrow, I’ve just had enough today. I promise, we’ll talk some more then.”

After a moment of consideration, he nods in agreement and gets up, extending a hand out to me and I look at him confused. “Let me put my phone number on your phone, and promise me you’ll call me if you need anything.”

I nod, handing him my phone and looking down while swallowing the lump on my throat. He hands me my phone back and I set it down beside me. His eyes find mine and he gives me a small comforting smile and I feel my heart flutter a little but before I can let it fill itself with hope I’m standing up and leading Jake to the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, looking up from his phone after ordering his uber. “Goodnight Jake.”

I close the door and lean against it, letting a few tears escape before quickly wiping them away and heading to the bathroom for a much needed shower. I sit on the floor of the shower and let myself cry it all out again, the only difference is that this time I cry because of Jake’s proposal rather than his absence.

My fingers are very pruned when I finally get out of the shower. I stare at myself in the mirror, turning sideways to see if a bump has begun to form but I’m met with none since it’s probably too early for that.

Finally I decide to go to bed, stopping by the living room to grab my phone. As I unlock it, I stop dead in my tracks, noticing that Jake’s contact name is Baby Daddy and that he texted me “I’m sticking around. I promise.”

My legs feel wobbly as I read it over and over again but thankfully I’m pulled away from obsessing over it by the doorbell. I look out the window and see no one but against my better judgment I open the door and look down to be met by a grocery delivery and some flowers.

Maybe things will be okay after all.

click here for part 3.

taglist: @rosiahills22, @harperdoodle, @weirdothatwritess, @mrsevans90

[deesseshesca]

PAC 18+: How can you spice up your sex life with your s/o?

Now let's bring it up a notch...

Good evening, pretty souls, today I'm diving under the cover of y'all relationship to keep up with your panties/boxer.

FLASH SALE

For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 

TW: Sexual abuse, DV

Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18 

PILE 1 

4 wands, 5 swords, 3 swords, 9 swords, ‘’I’m going through a lot right now, I need some space & time to gather my thoughts !’’ 

Mutual masturbation 

Edging 

Overstimulation

💌 Your partner don't feel appreciated enough in the bedroom. They feel like u are comparing them to your past lovers. If not, they feel like they don't compare. On your side you are tired of their toxic behavior. They are not toxic is just that they are stuck in bad habits. Which is stopping y'all from evolving as a couple. You are not satisfy emotionally, they are not satisfy physically. Anyway Pile 1, if you need any advice on how to deal with situation, you can always book a reading on my Ko-fi, link down below. Especially now that they are on sales for only 20$. (Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca

PILE 2 

2 pentacles, 2 swords, 4 wands, 5 wands, ‘’I look at my phone everyday hoping I would see a message from you’’ 

Cuddlefuck 

No foreplay 

Voyeurism  

Femdom 

💌I think your partner is usually the one in control. Y'all usually have some hardcore sex or even BDSM. There's a clear difference between a sub and dom energy down to even the look. One of y'all is real petite. You are probably part of the itty bitty community or you dick may be on the smaller side. Y'all are very delicate and graceful being. While he is all tall and buff or she is very curvy and way taller than u. If you initiate with a bratty attitude instead of being your docile self, is going to fire up the spark between y'all. Are y'all going camping trip or on a trip abroad with friend ? You should run your hand up and down his dick while y'all look at a movie in the living room, if they are a women, maybe play with their tits. Or when y'all back in the tent, you should initiate something knowing damm well is hella risky. It's going to excited them and finally give them a reason to do all the punishments they dream to apply on u. Since u been a good girl/boy (is not me...is them ), they only fantasy is about punishing you. Anyway if you guys need any advice how to make it happen, you can always book a reading on my Ko-fi, especially now that's only 20$ (Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca

PILE 3 

Judgment, 5 swords, Page wands, 8 cups 

Check in : Babes, I'm sorry for the fuck up things you been through. You guys have a lot of sexual trauma. You spend your whole in poverty until you made the decision to become an escort or stripper. Which only added to the trauma. Some of y'all been in abusive relationship or all you life you felt like the only way someone will stay with you would be for sex. So you felt obligated to give some. But now you are in healthy relationship. The life you have now is a complete 360 of your past. Stay at home wife in the sunburn, spending most of your weekend supporting your kids hobbies. Nobody would even the guess how hard it was for you to get this peaceful life.

Dirty talk 

Nudist Event 

Power play 

💌 Now girl/boy... what's going ? Why are only serving same old missionary with the men/women you love. I can feel how deeply you love them. So you are completely comfortable around them. Yet no split on dick or feasting on the clit. No crazy lingerie. No lap dancing. No nothing. I don't know much about life but I think when u are married you can defiantly match the freak. Talk nasty to him/her, giving him/her a VIP experience and they will go crazy. Send them nasty pic, girl/boy you have all the power to spice things up. Anyway Pile 3, if you need help on tapping back into your sexual self in more healthy manner, you can always book a reading on my Ko-fi for only 20$.(Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca.

7 wands, Page cups, 9 wands, 7 cups,’’Karmic partner interference’’, ‘’I’m ready to come clean ! I can’t lose you again !’’ 

Food 

Jealousy/possessiveness

Communication 

💌 You are married to someone you don't know anymore. If you know One tree hill (the best TV show in the word), y'all make me think of Quinn and her relationship with her ex-husband David. They were a time, the person on your side was loving and emotionally available. Now he is crazy about profit and barely spend time in the same room as you. Than there's him/her. They know they can treat u better than your husband/wife and is pissing them off the way things are . They dream of licking wiped cream of your nipple, ever since they saw in that sundress at the pool party or when you do your daily run with no shirt on. Anyways Pile 4, I know you are going to figure it all out but if you want insight from your spiritual team regarding this whole mess, you always book a ready on my Ko-fi. Especially now, they are only 20$. (Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca.

[thexmistress]

Hi🥸i saw that your requests were open so could you maybe write a part 2 of "the dilemma" where sukuna either gets it together or reader moves on with gojo (or nanami) and sukuna starts regretting how he was in the relationship🙏 cause him just replying with ❤️ after not texting reader for 2 days was crazyyy

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓂𝓂𝒶 𝓅𝓉. 𝟤

ˢʰᵉ/ʰᵉʳ | ˢᵘᵏᵘⁿᵃ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ˢᵃᵗᵒʳᵘ

<ᵖᵗ.¹

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Y/N stared at the '❤️' message from Sukuna, the brief moment of relief quickly fading into a familiar emptiness. She wanted more than just crumbs. She deserved more. As she wiped her tears and put away her painting supplies, she knows she has to make a decision

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Y/N held onto the brief moment of relief that Sukuna's heart emoji brought, but deep down, she knew it wasn’t enough. It was just a temporary balm on a wound that refused to heal. The following days were no different. Sukuna remained distant, wrapped up in his own world, while Y/N felt increasingly isolated.

One evening, after a long day, Y/N decided to confront Sukuna. She needed clarity, an answer, or at least some semblance of resolution. She arrived at his apartment, her heart heavy with dread.

"Sukuna, we need to talk," she said, her voice steady but filled with resolve. She felt like she was about to commit a terrible crime. This felt wrong.

Sukuna glanced up from his game, irritation flickering in his eyes. "What now, Y/N?" She can hear Kenjaku and Choso voices peeping out of his headset.

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I can't keep doing this. The constant neglect, the emotional distance. I need more than this."

He sighed, pausing his game. He muted his headset and took it off, he turned to her rubbing his face in the process, "What do you want from me? I'm here, aren't I?"

"But you're not really here," she replied, her voice trembling. She started second guessing if she was doing the right thing.

This feels wrong.

"You're physically present, but emotionally, you're somewhere else and I need a partner who's fully invested, who cares about my feelings…….. it just feels like you don’t care about me….. It feels like you don’t even like me." She didn’t even realize she started picking at her fingers, a habit he hates.

Sukuna's expression darkened, rolling his eyes and he stood up. "You always want too much. You're never satisfied."

"Maybe I am asking for too much," she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes.

This is wrong.

"But is wanting to feel loved and valued really too much?"

His silence spoke volumes, and that was the final straw for Y/N. She realized then that she couldn't keep sacrificing her happiness for someone who couldn't meet her halfway. She lost herself trying to get him to love her to the point where she didn’t even realize she lost the love for herself.

‘I was never enough’

"I'm done, Sukuna," she said, her voice breaking. "I can't keep doing this to myself. I deserve better."

As she walked out, a wave of despair crashed over her while a wave of relief crashed over his. Sukuna was a little baffled about her breaking up with him but like always he pushed it to the back of his mind and realized he got what he wanted.

Freedom.

The weeks that followed were some of the darkest she had ever known. She fell into a deep depression after witnessing Sukuna’s club and fling escapades on his instagram and Snapchat. She started struggling to find purpose and joy. Falling victim to bed rotting for half a year her art suffered, her friendships strained, and she felt like a shadow of her former self.

2 years later, while sitting in a café, she ran into an acquaintance of hers Satoru Gojo. His bright blue eyes sparkled with genuine concern as he spotted her while he was waiting for his order. If he were to be honest….. she looks terrible and by terrible he means her demeanor, something was off and he couldn’t tell exactly what. She lost that spark and youthful look he remembered seeing her wear when he would see her hanging with Shoko.

His legs carried him towards her and he towered over her as she was glued to her phone, "Y/N, you look like you could use a friend," he said, his voice gentle as he flashed her his signature grin.

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Gojo became a constant presence in her life, offering support and a listening ear. He never pushed, never demanded, just offered his companionship and understanding. Slowly, Y/N began to heal. She started painting again, finding solace in her art, and with Gojo's encouragement, she rediscovered her passion for life.

Months passed, and Y/N felt herself growing stronger. She smiled more, laughed more, and started to feel like herself again. Gojo's unwavering support had been a lifeline, pulling her out of the depths of her despair.

One evening, while they were sitting on a park bench eating the food they prepared earlier that day together, Gojo turned to her, his expression serious. "Y/N, I care about you a lot. I don't want to rush you, but I need you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

She looked into his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Thank you, Gojo. You've been my rock. I don't know what I would have done without you."

He leaned in slowly taking in her features, his sudden gaze making her feel self conscious. She could feel her heart beating through her chest as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on her lips and she could feel his breath on her lips, “Just call me Satoru from now on. Okay?” Was the last thing she heard before he closed the gap and captured her lips with his.

For the first time in a while Y/N truly felt at peace.

Their relationship blossomed naturally, built on a foundation of trust and mutual respect. With Satoru, Y/N felt valued, cherished, and truly loved. She found herself looking forward to the future, no longer haunted by the shadows of her past.

Meanwhile, Sukuna watched from afar, his regret growing with each passing day as he clicks on Satoru’s instagram story watching their love story grow. He saw the light return to Y/N's eyes, the way she laughed with Satoru, and he realized just how much he had taken for granted. The weight of his mistakes pressed down on him, and he knew he had lost something irreplaceable.

One day, unable to stay silent any longer, Sukuna approached Y/N as she was leaving an art exhibit.

"Y/N," he called, his voice rough with emotion.

She turned, surprised to see him. "Sukuna, what are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," he said, struggling to find the right words. "I see now how much I messed up. I took you for granted, and I'm sorry."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes kind but resolute. "Sukuna, I loved you. But you were right—you can't change, and I do deserve better."

Sukuna's heart ached at her words, knowing they were true. "I know. And I'm glad you're finding happiness, even if it's not with me."

With that, Y/N nodded, a sense of closure settling over her. She watched as Sukuna walked away, feeling a mix of sorrow and peace.

Y/N's relationship with Satoru continued to flourish. He was attentive, loving, and always made her feel valued. With him, she found the emotional connection she had craved.

In the end, Y/N realized that sometimes, letting go was the only way to find true happiness. And while Sukuna would always be a part of her past, she looked forward to a brighter future with Gojo by her side.

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Thank you for your request (*^‿^*) maybe I’ll have a new way to gain motivation to finish some of these short stories now lol. Hope you enjoyed the story ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

[simpforpeterp]

Stanford Pines x Reader

Movin’ Out

summary: ford gets a job at the very grocery store you work at to pay for college. lucky for you, you get to train him! enjoy

warnings: none

word count: 1.23k

“Hey, kid, feel comfortable training someone?” Miranda, the store manager, asks as your last customer walks away.

“Not at a-“

“Great! This is Ford.” She pushes a young man toward you as you slowly turn that way, not realizing he was right there.

“Hi. I would ask your name but it’s right there.” He points to your name badge.

“Hi,” You nod politely before realizing your manager is quickly walking away. “What am I training you in?”

“I don’t know, everything?” He says and you let out a sigh.

“I’m definitely not the right person for this, I just got hired two weeks ago so let’s see how this goes.” You smile as you go to shut off your register.

Ford waits until you’re walking in front of him to sigh. He doesn’t even want this job. He quite frankly doesn’t have the time but he has to pay his way through school somehow. Going to Backupsmore, there was a bunch of other rejected, tortured, smart kids just like him that got scholarships more than his. He needs money. He needs money so he can start eating real food again.

And just his luck, on his first day of work, he’s stuck getting trained by someone who barely knows what they’re doing.

“I’m barely starting to know what I’m doing.” You tell him as you reach a back room with a bunch of returns and left behinds.

You go on your tiptoes to reach a rope looking thing with a hook on the end and pull another one down for him. He accepts it when you put it in his hand and begin leading him out the front doors.

“We’re starting easy with carts. Here is our map of the different parking lot sections,” You point to a color coordinated map of the sections. “On each cart corral, there’s tape that matches to each section. If a manager asks you to go outside to, let’s say, yellow, you’d exit through produce and stick to the corrals with yellow tape. Simple enough, yeah?”

“More than simple enough,” He clears his throat. “I’m a physics major, I’m capable of reading a map.”

“You should be glad I’m taking my time with this, take a look around,” You gesture to the crowded store. “It’s a Sunday. Sunday’s are the worst because everyone is trying to shop for the week. We’re getting paid to do nothing right now. Now, come on, let’s go to purple.”

He reluctantly follows you as you lead him through the parking lot to the very back. You begin to explain the way you push carts here, how you put the hook through the metal and how many carts to push at a time and where to take them. He continues to check his watch and pray this training will be over soon.

As Ford checks his watch for the third time, you notice his impatient expression, and it’s hard not to smirk.

“You’re really in a hurry, huh?” You tease, keeping your tone light. “Don’t worry, Einstein, you’ll get to the actual brain work soon enough.”

Ford’s eyebrows raise slightly, and he gives a reluctant chuckle, glancing up at you. He notices the playful look on your face and that’s when he realizes how nice your smile is. There’s that smile crinkle by your eyes that make them shine even brighter.

“Yeah, well… let’s just say this isn’t exactly where I imagined myself on a Sunday. But, hey, everyone’s gotta start somewhere.” He sighs.

“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” You repeat, nodding. “And unfortunately, that somewhere is here in the back of the purple section, dragging carts in the heat.”

He lets out a sigh, his shoulders visibly slumping, and it hits you how worn-out he looks. He’s obviously intelligent, probably a lot smarter than the usual hires around here, but something about him seems weighed down, almost as if he’s been carrying too much for too long.

“Why are you here, anyway? You don’t exactly seem… thrilled about the job either.” As the two of you finish up with the carts, he speaks up again, almost out of nowhere.

“Why am I here? That’s a good question. I guess ‘barely making rent’ is a pretty good reason.” You laugh a little at his bluntness, pushing a stray hair behind your ear.

“Yeah… I get that. Tuition’s no joke, and the scholarships don’t cover everything.” He tells you.

“Oh, so you’re here to pay your way through school?” You ask as you both start pushing the last row of carts back toward the store.

“Pretty much. Not exactly by choice, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.” He shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a resigned smile.

For a moment, he seems almost vulnerable, like he’s showing you a piece of himself he doesn’t usually share.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” You reply, feeling a small connection form between you two.

“You go to school out here too?” He asks as you reach the store entrance,

“UCLA,” You nod with a smile. “I’m studying anthropology. I took too long to pick a major so my dad picked for me.”

“UCLA, nice. Are you an antiquarian type?” He asks.

“Not really,” You laugh, shaking your head. “I mean, ancient artifacts are cool and all, but I’m more interested in people—why they do what they do, how cultures shape them. Plus, anthropology was the closest major to 'figuring out life' that my dad could find. I’ve never really been a school person but I like people. Most of the time.”

“I can see that. You seem pretty curious about the world. But I guess you’d have to be, working here and not losing your mind.” Ford smiles at that, and for the first time, it feels like he’s genuinely enjoying the conversation.

“Come on, let’s go do a basket pick up.” You nudge him.

After showing him how to do sweeps of the main floor, the baskets, bagging, returns, left-behinds, damages, propane exchanges, and ice purchases, you’re pretty much done.

You get him to talk more throughout and he becomes actually enjoyable to talk to. Spreading him open is the only one to know him, he doesn’t slowly open up. You have to push a little. But he eventually talks more and more. And talking turns to laughing which is even more fun.

As you head back to the registers after completing the rounds, Ford’s laughter lingers in the air—a sound that’s both rare and surprisingly warm. You can tell he doesn’t laugh like this often, maybe because he doesn’t have the time or maybe because he doesn’t think there’s much to laugh about. But today, you’ve somehow cracked through that careful, studious exterior, just a little.

“You know,” he says as you both lean against a counter, taking a breather, “I didn’t expect to actually enjoy this. I thought it’d just be another job. But… you make it interesting.”

“Well, I’m glad I could make ‘dragging carts in the heat’ slightly more bearable for you.” You smile, noticing a slight blush on his cheeks.

“So…when do you work next?” He asks almost nervously.

“Tuesday. You?”

“Tuesday.” He says with a small smile.

“Okay, Ford,” You smile back at him. “See you Tuesday. Maybe you’ll be able to help me finally memorize those produce codes.”

[sunny374940]

Adventures in baking

Rook has a crush on Emmrich. Rook wants to bake him cookies. He has never baked cookies in his life, but what could go wrong? Lucanis is a good friend. 1k words.

..............

“You can do it, Rook, how hard can it be? You killed a dragon, for fucks sake.”

Rook was muttering to himself. There was a crease between his eyebrows, flour on his shirt and he was fighting a losing battle.

He was standing at the counter of the Lighthouse kitchen, poking at a lump of something that wasn't trying very hard to be dough.

He rubbed his forehead, managing to get the offending substance stuck into his hair.

“Shit!” he cursed loudly in frustration.

“Rook, what are you doing?” Lucanis was standing in the pantry doorway, watching him with an arched eyebrow.

“Uhh… making cookies?” Rook offered without much conviction.

Lucanis crossed the room to inspect Rook's creation. It jiggled miserably at his touch.

“Whatever this is, it is not cookie dough. Why didn't you ask me for help?”

He took in the state of the kitchen, which indicated that this wasn't Rook's first attempt.

“I wanted to make them myself.” Rook looked down, frowning. “They were supposed to be for Emmrich.”

“Why?”

“I like him.” The words were out before he could stop himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Just don’t tell anyone, I don't know how he really feels about me. But we visited the Necropolis together and we had tea in the gardens and it almost felt like a date? So I wanted to do something nice for him, but it’s harder than I thought.”

“You are trying to woo the necromancer. With cookies,” Lucanis observed dryly.

Rook blushed and nodded.

“Lucanis, I really, really need your help,” he pleaded. “I've been at it for hours and I don't-”

Lucanis held up a hand to signal him to stop talking.

“Mierda,” he sighed. “Where's your recipe? Let's see where you went wrong.”

“I don't have one,” Rook said.

Lucanis stared at him. “What do you mean you don’t have one? Do you understand how baking works?”

“Well, my mom never used one? She just threw things together and it worked. And no, not a clue,” Rook grinned sheepishly.

“Your mother is either a miracle worker or you didn't pay enough attention. Baking is all about ingredient ratios, you don't just mix stuff randomly.”

Lucanis gave the horrible mass on the counter one last poke. “Now go throw this thing over the edge. If Assan finds it, Davrin is going to kill us. I will find us a cookbook.”

Rook carried the dough out the door and dropped it unceremoniously over the edge, although a good bit managed to keep itself stuck to his fingers.

When he returned after cleaning up, Lucanis was sitting in the kitchen and leafing through a cookbook.

“I think I found a suitable recipe. It is for beginners in the art of baking,” he said, stressing the word beginners with an amused quirk of his lips. “I have never seen anyone fuck up cookies so badly.”

”Yeah, yeah, no need to rub it in,” Rook laughed. “Next time I'm going to pick him some flowers and be done with it,” he grumbled.

“With your luck, you will be jumped by an ogre before you pick a single flower,” chuckled Lucanis. “I will help you romance your necromancer, but Spite says he wants some cookies as payment. With chocolate.”

“I agree to your terms,” Rook bowed to Lucanis with a cheeky smile. “And thank you, I really appreciate your help.”

“Don't mention it. So first we need to get the ingredients and then I will teach you how to measure them.”

They fell into an easy rhythm, Lucanis reading out the instructions and checking Rook's progress. Rook was smiling as he worked, he was finally getting somewhere.

Just as they were pulling the cookies out of the oven, the door opened, startling Rook into almost dropping the tray.

“Hello, Rook, Lucanis,” greeted Emmrich warmly as he entered the kitchen. “Don't mind me, I'm just getting some apples.” He sniffed. “It smells wonderful in here. Have you been baking for Neve again, Lucanis?”

Rook made an attempt to hide the cookies behind his back, but he was thwarted by Spite, who picked exactly the worst moment to appear.

“He. Made you. Cookies. I want. Cookies.”

“Spite, he wanted it to be a surprise,” hissed Lucanis.

But Spite wouldn't be dissuaded. “He. Likes. You.” He added triumphantly.

Rook flushed to the tips of his ears and hid his face in his hands. He didn't notice Emmrich crossing the room, until he was standing right in front of him, forcing him to look up at him between his fingers. Emmrich smiled at Rook and took hold of his hands to bring them down from his face. But even after he'd done that, he showed no intention of letting go. Rook was blushing fiercely, staring up at Emmrich with wide eyes.

“Is Spite telling the truth?” Emmrich asked softly, eyes searching Rook's face.

Rook could only nod.

“Would you care to enjoy the cookies with me, Rook?” Emmrich asked. “Perhaps along with a cup of tea in my quarters?”

“I-” Rook found he had to clear his throat, which had suddenly gone very dry. “I would like that,” he managed to croak out.

“Splendid!”

Emmrich let go of his hands to gather some of the cookies onto a plate, leaving Rook feeling strangely alone. He didn't have much time to wallow in his loneliness however, because Emmrich's hand quickly found its way back into his.

“Shall we?” Emmrich gazed into his eyes, looking for all the world like he had just been offered a candlelit dinner and not a plateful of cookies.

“Lead the way,” Rook smiled, leaning closer to him.

“If you start kissing, I am letting out Spite,” Lucanis threatened, but there was humor in his words. “I know you forgot I'm standing here.”

They started laughing and retreated from the kitchen, taking the plate of cookies with them.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Peeta-Delly sibling conversations I write in my drafts as jokes to myself (in some of these I imagine them as actual blood siblings lol):

D: drive me to the store.

P: no

D: drive me to the store drive me to the store drive me to the store

P: no, no, and no.

D: but I want to buy some pants

P: don’t care

D: I hate you

P: don’t care

D: drive me to the store

P: no

D: drive me to the store

P: no

D: DRIVE ME TO THE STORE!

P: NO!

Silence

D: you wanna get pizza?

P:… fine

P: smell my armpit

D: what? No!

P: just tell me if it smells!

D: smell it yourself!

P: I can’t tell! Come on, I’d smell yours!

D: No you wouldn’t, you liar.

(Based on a recurring argument with my sister that did indeed involve smelling her armpits)

P: look!

D: (ignores him)

P: Dells! Look! (Throws something at her) Dells!

D: what?

P: check it out, come here.

D: no just do it from there

P: ugh, why are you such a chicken?

D: just show me!

P: I don’t want to do it if you don’t come here!

D: I’m not going there!

P: just come here!

D: no!

P: fine, look. (Goes over to her). Look at my hands.

D: …no

P: you’re so goddamn annoying

D: then why are you here?!

P: just look!

D: fine! (Looks)

P: (flips her shirt over her head and runs away)

D: PEETA! DAD! Peeta’s being an absolute shit again!

Their father, somewhere: kids! Be nice!

P: can you come over and watch the kids?

D: I’m busy, sorry.

P: what are you doing?

D: stuff, okay?

P: please come over. I’ll leave you something in my will.

D: pfft. No thanks, I can live without your dumb cd collection.

P: please, please, please,please, please?

D: ugh, fine. Where are you going?

P: just out.

D: okay, are you going to tell me any details?

P: I’m going to play basketball, okay? Happy?

D: that’s why you need me to babysit? Just take them with you!

P: but you’re auntie Delly! You love them!

D: not enough to giveup Saturday night, dumbass.

P: please!

D: No!

P: how about this, you come with and I talk you up to Thom.

D: not worth it. I bet you’re going drinking after. And I’m stuck with two snotty kids? Screw that.

P: I’ll give you a hundred bucks.

D: five hundred.

P: two

D: three, final offer.

P: FINE! Just be here in twenty minutes.

D (ignoring Peeta’s phone calls)

(He calls again)

D: WHAT?

K: Peeta’s in the hospital! There was-He- just, oh my god, come quick okay?

D: I’m on my way.

P: (talking to a random stranger) this is my nephew, isn’t he adorable?

Random stranger: um, sure.

P: he’s my first nephew ever. My sister - well she’s not really my sister - but my sister, her names Delly, she said I can go visit him today. She just gave birth! Can you believe it?

Random person: I believe it.

P: what does that mean?

RP: I-I mean the kid looks like a newborn.

P: oh! Yeah, of course. Haha. Right. Anyway, what can I get you?

(On the phone)

P: ya?

D: what’d you get Katniss for Christmas?

P: books. New shoes. Oh, and that thing you told me to get. What was it called?

D: yeah, yeah. The um, dehydrator?

P: yeah that.

D: do you think she’d like a photo album? I could put a bunch of pictures of the family in there.

P: yeah, why not. Did you get my present?

D: no, what do you want?

P: a new car.

D: keep dreaming. So you want a new paint set?

P: sure whatever. By the way, you’re getting a craft beer set from Gale.

D: what, why?

P: I told him to.

D: Peeta! Come on.

P: just kidding. Do you wanna come for dinner? Katniss made lasagna.

D: nah, I’m busy. Just let her know I’ll see her on Thursday, okay?

P: yeah, yeah. See ya.

D: later.

P: did you teach my kid to say fuck?!

D: um

P: what the hell?!

D: it was an accident!

P: fuck you!

D: okay, I don’t think that’s a great reaction or example in this situation.

P: you-just. Watch your back.

D: oooh I’m sooo scared.

D: can I borrow 500 bucks?

P: why?

D: I just need a little help

P: is something wrong?

D: um..

P: what?

D: my building manager raised the rent with no warning.

P: he can’t do that. Do you want me to talk to him?

D: no, it’s fine.

P: I’m going to talk to him.

(On the phone)

D: Do you know anything about cars? Dad isn’t picking up.

P: I mean, I guess so?

D: sweet. (Off the phone) can you explain what you just said to my brother? Thanks. (Back on the phone) okay talk to this guy.

P: um, hello?

[irb-pascalito-99]

Text you Later

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Joel calls while at work for some lunch time shenanigans.

Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, pictures, dirty talk, praise, semi public sex

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter twelve of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God to read more visit A03.

I try to ignore the buzz of my phone in my back pocket as I carry my end of the armoire. Bill huffs when I adjust the piece of furniture in my arms. Once we’re in position we put the legs down carefully.

I automatically pull out my phone to check my texts once my hands are free. A smile spreads across my face when I see it’s Joel again.

Joel: Meet up for lunch?

I bite my lip and look up at Bill who has continued to walk around the store adjusting other items. I lean my hip against the armoire as I type out my reply.

Me: Can’t :( leaving early today for Ellie’s appointment

Frank appears over my shoulder as I press send. I jump as he attempts to glance at the screen.

“Who you texting?” He asks with a sly smile. I shove the phone back in my pocket. I shrug in response and walk toward the front counter. “A man?”

“No Frank,” I lie. “It was just Maria asking if we could hang out tonight.”

The look on his face says he clearly doesn’t believe me. I ignore the next buzz from my phone, and the one that comes immediately after.

“Okay then…” Frank says. “Well I just wanted to see if you wanted this desk we just got in. I know you mentioned wanting to get something Ellie can use in that room.”

Ellie and I agreed to change our parents’ room to an art space the two of us can use. We’ve already packed all the stuff that remains there in boxes. Joel helped put them in the attic for safekeeping. Tomorrow everyone is coming over to help move the furniture out and paint the walls

I follow Frank to the back of the store where we keep the inventory before we put it out. While his back is turned to me I quickly pull out my phone to respond to Joel.

Joel: But I miss you…

Joel: Can we call at least?

Me: Give me like 15 minutes ;)

I throw my phone back in my pocket as Frank stops in front of an old writer’s desk. I run my hand along the cherry stained wood. It’s in great condition, probably worth a decent amount of money.

There’s a lot of drawers as well. I open a couple, they seem decently deep so Ellie could probably store a decent amount of supplies in it. She’s been getting really into sketching lately so a place where she could sit and draw would be really nice.

“How much do you want for it?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” I turn to Frank as he waves his hand. I give him a frustrated look, while I appreciate his generosity it doesn’t feel right to constantly like Frank and Bill take care of me. I don’t want to be their charity case, but Frank won’t hear it. “Think of it as me supporting local artists. You can pay us back with a painting or have Ellie draw something.”

“I’m sure Bill would love whatever she draws of him,” I joke. Frank laughs. I run my hand over the wood again. It would really mean a lot for Ellie to have her own dedicated space in the room.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Frank grins as I concede. He pulls a SOLD sign out of his back pocket and puts it on top of the desk.

“I’ll have Bill load it up when we come over tomorrow.” He says.

He wraps an arm around me while we walk back up front. I feel my phone buzz again. Frank must hear the sound of the vibration because he looks at me amusedly.

“Maria again?” I shrug and walk around the counter to keep myself busy until I can find an excuse to go somewhere private and talk to Joel. “Girl can’t seem to get enough today, you’ve been glued to that phone all morning.”

“It’s probably that contractor guy,” Bill grumbles from across the room. I snap my head to him, trying to keep the blush off my cheeks. “The one she’s all goo-goo eyes for.”

So much for not blushing. I try to hide my burning face from view of Bill and Frank. I feel like a child caught crushing on the popular boy at school.

“Ahh yeah, Joel right?” Frank says. He turns back to me. “Is he coming to help tomorrow?”

“Joel? I think so. I know Maria said Tommy’s coming to help out with the muscle so I’d imagine Joel would be there too.” I try to act casual, but my voice comes out slightly higher than normal.

“Hmm, yeah we know that one has some muscle,” Frank says. I blush even more, just barely managing to stop myself from dropping my jaw at Frank’s comment.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush, Frank.” Frank laughs.

“Just making an observation,” he chides. “I think you could use a man like that…”

“Stop,” I beg. I hide my face in my hands. Frank laughs. Bill walks over to help a customer who just walked in while Frank pats me on the shoulder. “I’m taking a break.”

Frank shakes his head, still laughing. I walk toward the back of the shop. I take one more look over my shoulder before I disappear into the backroom.

I make my way to the bathroom and pull out my phone. I lean against the bathroom wall as I call Joel. He answers almost immediately.

“Someone’s needy today,” I joke. I make sure to keep my voice down so anyone who is outside of the bathroom door can’t hear.

“Babygirl, you have no idea.” I shudder at his nickname for me. His voice is deep with a sultry thickness pouring out like molasses. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t seen you all week, it’s killing me.”

“I know,” I respond. I half whisper into the phone. “I’m sorry, I miss you too. It’s just been crazy with work and Ellie. Getting Ellie caught up with classes has been rough. Turns out I’m really bad at math…”

“Darlin’ why are you whisperin’?” Joel asks.

“I’m in the bathroom at the shop. I don’t want Bill and Frank to hear me, they’ve already been making jokes about me crushing on you. I don't need them to hear anything else.” Joel laughs on the other end. “Stop that, it’s not funny!”

“Sorry sweetheart, but it kinda is.” I roll my eyes. “So you’re crushing on me huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumble. Joel laughs again and then the line goes silent.

“So…what are you wearing?”

“Oh, so it’s one of those phone calls. You’re really over there making fun of me while you’re waiting for me to help you get off?” I tease.

“Well I was going to pick you up and fuck you on a back road in my truck somewhere, but someone couldn’t get away from work.” I whimper at the thought.

It has been getting increasingly harder to sneak around these days. I’ve had to put so much focus on Ellie in order to prove to Marlene that things are solid with us. Joel has been extremely understanding, and my relationship with Ellie has never been better, but it’s been frustrating not to have alone time with him.

“You like that huh? Want to ride my cock in the front seat of my car, naughty girl.” I feel my pussy start to drip at his words. Fuck, I need him. “Go on, tell me what you’re wearing princess.”

“I can send you a picture…” I say. I smile when I hear Joel groan.

I position myself in front of the mirror and adjust my clothes a bit. I pull my neckline down a bit to show off more of my breasts. I turn to the side slightly so he can see the curve of my ass and then hook my thumb in the top of my jeans and pull them down just enough that he can see the top of my lacy black panties.

I take a couple pictures until I get one that I really like and send it over to him. I hear him moan when I pull the phone back to my ear, and then the sound of his belt clinking as he undoes it.

“Another baby, please. Let me see you.” I go back to the door and crack it open for a second. I don’t see anyone outside so I close it and lock the door.

I walk back to the mirror, setting the phone on the counter for a second, and take off my shirt. I push my jeans off as well and stand in front of the mirror wearing only my bra and underwear. I should be embarrassed doing this in the store bathroom, but a rush if adrenaline pumps through my veins as I position myself in front of the mirror. I nice one hand down, ghosting the lips of my pussy on the outside of my panties. I bite my lip and throw my head back, taking the picture and immediately sending it to Joel.

“Fuckk baby, so pretty for me.” I moan quietly at his praise. “Touch yourself gorgeous. Touch that pretty pussy for me. I want to hear you.”

I lean against the wall again and snake my fingers inside my underwear. I run them through my soaking folds, my underwear drenched as I hear the faint slapping sound of Joel’s fist moving up and down his cock.

“Oh Joel, I’m so wet for you,” I moan, making sure to keep my voice down.

Joel groans and a shiver runs down my spine. I dip two fingers inside my hole, my thumb starting to make circle motions. I whimper into the phone as I start to pump my fingers in and out. I try to match my pace to the sounds of Joel jacking off on the other end of the line. He moans loudly at my noises.

“Tell me what you’re doin’ right now sugar. What’s makin’ you make those sweet little noises?” He starts to pick up his pace, panting into the phone desperately.

“I’m touching myself.” I huff. “I got…got two fingers inside… wish it was your fingers, or your cock. Fuck, Joel wish you were splitting me open right now.”

Joel groans again, the sounds of him pumping himself getting louder.

“God, babygirl fuck. I wish I was there too.” I speed up my fingers, my climax building as he goes on. “Wish it was your pussy clenching around my cock right now instead of my hand. Got me fuckin’ jackin’ off in a goddamn parking lot, that’s what you do to me.”

I moan, a little louder than I probably should have. I move the phone to rest between my face and shoulder so I can cover my mouth as my other hand continues to move underneath my panties. I close my eyes and picture him in his truck outside his job site, thrusting his cock into his hands with his phone to his ear.

“Can anyone see you?” I ask. Joel chuckles darkly at my question.

“I don’t think so, not right now,” he grunts into the phone again. “Why gorgeous? That get you off? You like the idea of me gettin’ caught fuckin’ my fist to the thought of you?”

My stomach tightness and I moan again. I’m so close. So fucking close.

“Yeah, I think it does.” His words send another wave of pleasure through me. I’m right on the edge. “I think you like what you do to me. Think you like how desperate you make me, can’t stop thinkin’ of that pussy all goddamn week. You gettin’ close baby?”

“Yes, god yes, Joel please don’t stop.” Joel groans again.

“That’s it darlin’, I’m almost there too. Come for me babygirl. Come for me.”

I keep pumping my fingers in and out of my pussy until I’m finally pushed over the edge, panting and moaning around my other hand as I try to muffle my noises.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to follow. His groans sound more animal than human as I hear him pump his cock a couple more times and then stop. We both pant into the phone as we come down.

After my heart slows down I walk back to my discarded shirt and jeans on the floor and put them back on. I hear Joel’s belt clink again on the other line as well.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” Joel asks as I straighten my shirt in the mirror.

“Yes, but remember it’s going to be a full house so you need to behave,” I remind him. He scoffs at my remark.

“Darlin’ I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” I chuckle at his remark.

“Would a gentleman jack himself off in a parking lot in the middle of the day?” I ask.

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself tomorrow, no matter how hard it’ll be after not seein’ ya for so long.”

I smile sheepishly, giddy at the thought of him having missed me so much after just a week.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Joel agrees and we say our goodbyes. I wash my hands before heading back out to the front of the shop.

To read more visit A03

[zukkaoru]

75 + swap au kunichuuranzai?

hey absinthe.... hangs my head in shame. swap au kunichuuranzai + sweet nothing by taylor swift

they said the end is coming everyone’s up to something i find myself running home to your sweet nothings

“Well,” Kunikida clicks his tongue, “turns out Dazai and Ranpo-san were right.”

Chuuya freezes. They activate their ability on instinct, encasing themself in red half a second before the sound of a gunshot rings through the room. The bullets catch in the gravitational field surrounding them as they turn to face Kunikida.

He stands, gun raised, brow furrowed.

“Look, it’s nothing personal,” Chuuya explains. “It’s either your boss or ours, and I’m not lettin’ Fukuzawa-san die. Simple as that.”

They send the bullet back towards Kunikida, whizzing past his ear, close enough to just barely graze it. He flinches, but stands his ground.

“You know that thing won’t work on me,” Chuuya taunts. “You can’t beat gravity.”

“I don’t have to beat you,” Kunikida replies calmly. He slips his gun back into its holster, and Chuuya watches, wary. They half-expect Dazai or Ranpo to pop out from somewhere, but they’re still on high alert. Ranpo wouldn’t be able to touch them, and while Dazai can cut through and nullify their ability, they still have far more raw strength than him.

“I told you,” Kunikida continues, stepping closer. “Dazai and Ranpo-san predicted they would send you. The Armed Detective Agency is nothing more than a one-man army. If you’re here, there’s no one left to protect your precious boss. So as long as you’re here, you can’t be there.”

Chuuya snorts. “You really think we left Fukuzawa-san somewhere you can get him? Give me a break. Now get out of my way.”

They lunge towards him, propelled by their ability, crashing into him and sending them both tumbling to the ground. Gravity keeps him pinned in place, beneath Chuuya, his dark glare piercing through them. They swallow thickly.

Now is not the time for—

“Alright!” Dazai’s voice sounds from behind them. It’s the only warning they get before his cold fingers are on them, pressing against the side of their throat and nullifying their ability. “Playtime is over.”

“Shit,” Chuuya grumbles.

“Awww,” Ranpo coos, stepping around into Chuuya’s field of vision. “What, did you think we would let Kunikida-kun have all the fun? We wanted to see you too!”

“Fuck off.”

“Last I check, you are the one who broke into our base.” Ranpo leans down, freeing Kunikida’s gun and pressing it directly to Chuuya’s forehead. “Where is your boss.”

“As if I would tell you.”

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Dazai murmurs, like the silk of a spider’s web, deceptively soft. Chuuya knows better than to believe it. “But if you refuse to cooperate, we won’t have any other choice.”

“It’d be a pity to see such a beautiful face ripped apart so brutally,” Ranpo agrees.

Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Such sweet words. It’s a shame they mean absolutely nothing.”

Because behind closed doors, in secrecy where no one will find them, Chuuya has seen these three executives stripped bare, masks off, and they know the potential for goodness that lies beneath the surface. They know what their lips feel like, and they know the warmth of being held in their arms.

But when the livelihood of their respective organizations is on the line, all of that must be discarded. It’s no more tangible than smoke blowing in the wind. The marks left from their last night spent together have faded and all that’s left is the sweetness of memory and—

nothing.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Glue (Part 3)

Summary: John B and JJ get Reader back but need to have a talk with her about some things they heard her say to Luke.

TW/CW: Routledge!Reader x JJ Maybank, more mentions of gun stuff, more angst.

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,621

A/N: Part 1 Here || Part 2 Here || I'm honestly glad I only did this in three parts. Imo somewhere around 1,000 words is perfect for an imagine. I hope the ending isn't disappointing... Requests are Open! Much love to all!

(Y/N)’s POV 

The zip ties around my wrists are starting to hurt. I glare at his back, drilling into his spine, “Why don’t you just shoot me already? I’m dispensable.” 

Luke shakes his head, “I’m not gonna fall for that darlin’.” 

“You’re a real piece of work, you know? Your son is the smartest, kindest, most loyal person I know, and you treated him like he was worthless. Hell, you even made him believe it. I spent countless nights bandaging him up because of your shitty little tantrums. I saw him at his lowest and I still don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve his loyalty and kindness that he obviously didn’t get from his piece of shit father.” 

Finally, Luke snaps. He makes his way to me and puts his gun under my chin, “You shut your mouth. That kid ain’t worth the dust under my boots.” 

“I fucking dare you to say that again. If it keeps you away from him, I’ll gladly take a bullet because he deserves all the happiness and love in the world not the threat of his worthless, shitty, man child father looming over his head.” 

He cocks the gun back. I grin, “Fucking do it. Put me out of my fucking misery. I spend every day watching as my friends and brother drift away. I spend every day wishing I was worth something, wishing I deserved the pity they show me. I know that’s all it is. They pity me. If I didn’t have them, I’d have no one and they feel sorry for me.” Suddenly, a loud bang sounds toward the front of the boat. Luke jerks his head toward the noise and then runs off. It’s quiet for a moment before there’s a tap at the window above me. I look up to see JJ lift the cracked window all the way open. He drops into the room, and I jump up, burying my face in his chest.  

He kisses the top of my head and whispers, “I got you.” He pushes me away from him enough to pull out his pocketknife and cut off my ties. He helps me climb out of the window to my waiting brother and then hoists himself up to follow. No one says another word as we race to the Twinkie. 

In the backseat, JJ starts looking me over. I wince as he grabs my shoulders. His eyes widen, “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- “ 

“It’s okay,” I mumble, “Can you pop my shoulder back into place?” 

JJ’s jaw clenches as he does what I asked before returning to looking me over. Having enough, I bury into his chest. He wraps his arms tight around me and kisses the top of my head again. Soon, John B is putting the Twinkie in park and getting out to check on me as well. He opens the side door but finds me refusing to leave JJ’s side. “Come on Little Bird, we gotta get you some bandaids,” John B say in attempts to coax me away from my safety net. 

JJ lifts me up and hops out of the van to carry me into the Sheriff’s Office. Inside, Sarah, Kie, Pope, and Cleo jump up to greet us. JJ carries me to a chair and sets me down. He grabs a first aid kit from nearby before returning to clean and bandage me up. Shoop exits his office, “I told you two we’d handle it.” 

“Well, if you hurry you might catch him before he wakes up and gets free of the chain,” John B declares.  

Shoop clenches his jaw and motions to several officers, giving orders, before coming to squat in front of me. I feel JJ tense up beside me and place my hand on his arm. Shoop takes a deep breath, “You alright, kid?” 

I look to JJ, “I am now.” Shoop nods and leaves us. 

John B joins us, “We need to talk (Y/N), when you feel up for it.” 

Sometime later when everyone’s gone to bed, I find myself sitting on the dock lost in thought. I hear footsteps behind me but don’t bother to look back. JJ takes a seat on my right, dropping his legs over the side of the wooden structure to swing them back and forth above the water. A glance over my shoulder alerts me to John B’s presence. He opted to lean against the banister to my left, staring out at the night sky.  

It’s silent for a few moments before JJ takes a deep breath, “Listen, we uh… we heard what you said to Luke.” 

Involuntarily, I cringe. That wasn’t meant for their ears. I meant every word I said but I only said it because I thought it’d never leave the room. I shrug, “It’s nothing.” 

“It isn’t nothing (Y/N). You’re my little sister. Why didn’t you come to me?” John B responds, sounding hurt. 

“I- I don’t know... I didn’t want to feel like a burden.” 

“You’re never a burden to us (Y/N),” JJ says before glancing up at John B. “I think I speak for us both when I say that we’d do anything to make sure you’re safe and happy.” 

I shrug again, not knowing what to say and feeling my nerves attempting to force me into my shell. John B squats down beside me and brushes hair out of my eyes, “You deserve the world. Anything you want, I’ll do my damndest to make sure you get it and I’m sure JJ would too. You’re the glue that holds us all together and I could never express how sorry I am that we made you feel less than that.” He kisses the top of my head, “If you ever feel like this again, please come to me come to me. If you don’t want to talk to me, talk to JJ. Just please let someone know so we can make it right.” I nod and taking a deep breathe he looks to JJ, “Maybe it’s about time, man.” He looks back at me and offers a small smile, “I love you Little Bird. Don’t ever forget that.”  

I return his smile and nod, mumbling an “I love you,” in return. 

He stands and pats my head gently, “I’m gonna go get some sleep. Don’t stay up too late.” I nod and watch him leave. 

It’s silent for a few heartbeats before JJ clears his throat, “Did you really- Did you really mean everything you said? About me?” 

I look over to him and he’s fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, “Of course I did J. Little does John B know that you’re the glue that holds the glue together.” 

He chuckles a small bit and takes my hand in his, fiddling with my fingers now, “So you’re not mad at me?” 

My brows scrunch together, “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“Because you got taken on my watch by my father...” he trails off. 

“You listen to me, and you listen well. I will never ever blame you for anything that that man does. You are not him and you never will be. Actually, you’re the exact opposite and I’d give anything to make sure you know that and don’t blame yourself.” He looks me in the eyes now, almost searching for something. I tilt my head at him, “What?” 

“Will you pinky promise that we’ll stay best friends and I won’t lose you if I say what’s on my mind?” he ask, offering his pinky. 

I take it in mine, “Of course, JJ. No matter what we always have each other.” 

He takes a huge deep breath, “I love you (Y/N). I don’t mean as a friend. I mean I’m in love with you. I know I don’t deserve you and it’s probably going to be awkward now, but I can’t stand knowing you think so little of yourself when I think so highly of you. You’re insanely smart. You’re hilarious. You’re always there for everyone when we need you. You’re always there for me when I need you. I just can’t-” I interrupt him by kissing him. At first, he seems hesitant but quickly he relaxes. As cliche as it sounds, his lips fit perfectly in mine. I can’t believe I fought so hard to keep from doing this all this time. When we finally pull away for air, he grins “From now on, that’s how I want you to stop my rambling.” 

I laugh softly and fully take his hand in mine, “I love you too, JJ. Like I said, I meant every word I said to Luke. You are without a doubt my favorite person on planet earth, and I want to make sure you know that.” 

His grin gets even bigger, “So, does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” 

I nod, “of course,” before kissing him again. 

We sat there on that dock enjoying each other’s presence and our newfound mutual feelings for hours. We talked about all kinds of stuff and shared kisses under the moonlight. 

JJ’s POV 

As the sun peaks over the horizon, I look down to find (Y/N) curled into my side and fast asleep. I smile to myself and admire the way her hair brushes her face and how peaceful she looks. I never thought I’d see the day where I got to call her my girl. Happiness swells in my chest as I carefully scoop her into my arms and head for the house. She’s still sound asleep when I lay her on her bed and crawl in next to her, pulling her close and drifting off myself with a smile permanently plastered on my face. 

Masterlist

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