#if i go physical i can get a friend to pick it up i guess???
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sonknuxadow · 6 months ago
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okay im definitely going to be away from home when sxs gens comes out i need to figure out how im going to deal with this
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quietwingsinthesky · 11 months ago
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i bestow upon my oc the highest honor i can: janitor*
*in charge waste disposal on the ship
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teaboot · 28 days ago
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Okay so like. You know your own name as a kid, right?
You remember how it sounds, how your parents say it, how your friends say it- you learn how to spell it, and maybe even what it means and why it was given to you, and it's yours.
It's not a tangible, physical thing, like your hair or your fingernails, but it's yours. It belongs to you.
So, like. Imagine there comes a point in life where everyone gets their name tattooed to their forehead, or something.
Could be when they're two. Could be when they're twenty. Hell, it could be when they're eighty, or ninety-nine, or whenever. But it's everybody, and it's inevitable, and it happens.
Now imagine the time comes for you, and you get up after and look in the mirror and realize they spelled it wrong.
And you have to go outside and live your life in a world where everybody is so totally used to knowing people's names on sight that not a single person second-guesses that your parents named you Susam, or Ahley, or Benjabib.
And you know it's wrong, every time you hear it, but you can choose to explain every single time- every time you're called in a coffee queue, every time a teacher picks you in class, every time you meet a new person or bump into a stranger or are greeted on the street, by children and employers and door-to-door salesmen and your fucking waitress- or you can kind of just learn to grit your teeth and ignore it.
You still notice, of course- maybe you learn to accept it, maybe you hate it every time, but whether you do anything about it or not, you still know. You know people have the wrong word for you in your head.
You know they still mean YOU, but it's not you.
So what's your solution?
Do you shrug, decide it doesn't matter, and go about your life?
Do you smear the typo over with foundation, pencil in new letters every morning?
Do you stare into the mirror sometimes and think, "wow, I should really get that fixed"?
Maybe you save up your money and get it removed, or covered up, or changed to something else. Maybe the whole damn thing was wrong, and you've been a Jacob running around as a Hailey this whole damn time.
That's the best way to explain it. It's not an easily-provable thing, or a demonstrable thing, or a feeling I can one-for-one substitute as something else-
but that's what it's like to know you're not a girl.
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endearng · 1 month ago
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Third time's the charm
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Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: During one of your movie nights with Spencer, you decide to, once again, take the lead. Or, you got cockblocked so often that you almost thought it wouldn't happen. WC: 3.1k Warnings: smut (nipple play and dry humping); reader thinks spencer might be asexual but he's just a shy puppy; they are desperate for each other; "ruined" movie night; virgin!Spencer my beloved. (I guess that's it. If I forgot something, please let me know!) A/N: Aaaand here it is! I didn't think I'd write smut so soon, hehe. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it - it's actually a sequel to Dearest friend, but can be read as a stand-alone. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist
"It’s nice we finally have some time for each other," you hummed in agreement. "Thanks for coming over," Spencer said.
"You don't have to thank me," you said, sitting down on his couch after placing the drinks you chose from his fridge on the coffee table. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you confessed. It got him blushing.
Spencer started one of your movies. It was your choice: you usually took turns picking out a movie to watch together whenever you had the chance, since neither of you were keen of going out that often and you didn't have much time outside of work. It was a fun opportunity to know more of each other through your personal taste, since he often chose foreign films about humanities and you, well, you made him watch Easy A, which got him talking about Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.
After the movies, you would talk to each other about it, maybe mentioning a personal experience that you remembered thanks to a particular scene or a character's arch. Maybe you would kiss.
Which was a problem. Well, not a problem, but, you see, you didn't have much time together other than going to each other's houses and out on a few dates, which were your favorite: Spencer often found the most beautiful, cozy places to take you, like coffee shops, museums, bookshops and libraries, followed by a nice dinner at a local restaurant. It was during one of those dates that something gave him the nerve to touch your hand. Holding hands quickly escalated to having his hands around you at all times possible, and it got to the point where you nearly had to peel off of him when he got too comfortable and you sadly had to leave to do something. These moments of physical touch were making you go insane, thinking about making a bolder move on him, but you thought that maybe he wasn't ready. Plus the fact that you seemed to be interrupted whenever things got too heated.
If you had a nickel for everytime you and Spencer had to stop right before you got intimate (in any way, really), you'd have two nickels, which isn't much, but it's weird that it happened twice. It was like the universe (more like Hotch and the gore that surrounded the team) were set on a mission for you to never have sex again. Besides that, more extreme thoughts plagued your mind and told you that maybe he wasn’t attracted to you like that. It often made you go home feeling a little bit insecure.
You knew that it was better to assume, but you were only human. After some pep talk with yourself on the way to his place, you convinced yourself that you would have to have this conversation with him, sooner or later. You thought so hard about this that you even came up with the possibility that he was asexual — you were fine with it if he was, obviously, because being with him made you feel whole. Still, you wanted, you needed to get this off your chest before you exploded with assumptions and unrequited feelings. Unrequited desire.
You decided to try to be subtle. Scratching the back of his head with your nails lovingly, you both watched the movie. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you. You could see the goosebumps on his arm, that must have been the trigger for the question coming out of his lips. You gave him a soft smile.
"It's called affection, pretty boy," you kissed the tip of his nose. "And I don't intend on stopping anytime soon."
You kissed his left cheek when he turned to look at the TV screen.
Then, you turned his head gently to kiss the right one. He glanced between your eyes and your lips, so of fucking course you were about to kiss him, but you decided to tease him a little and pecked the tip of his nose and gently kissed his forehead instead. He breathed out a laugh. Ticklish. It made you wonder where else he would be sensitive.
Stop, you slut of a brain.
When you were about to kiss his lips, you withdrew your face from his, smooching his cheek instead. He sighed, oblivious to your real intentions, impatient and utterly, stupidly in love with you.
Oops. There goes your heart. Out the window. Taking your judgment with it.
"Spence?"
"Yes?"
"Can I do something?"
"Yes," he answered. "You know can do anything, baby."
"This is a very dangerous thing to say to a girl who has the feelings I have for you," you said, grinning. His expression morphed into one that almost looked like sheer panick.
You slowly moved to straddle his lap, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wanted to, his legs trapped between yours. You sat yourself on the top of his thighs. He watched every movement feeling like the world stopped and there were the both of you, moving in slow motion, movie long forgotten behind you. His breath hitched when he came to his senses and noticed the position you were in, now that you've done what you had. "Is this okay? It's more comfortable than kissing you like… well, that," you laughed softly.
"Yes. I-It's perfect," he breathed out, hands finding your waist.
You lips finally met his in a kiss that had both of you sighing. You found out that Spencer was a really good kisser — and you were proud to be the one with whom he practiced kissing to perfection —, your lips easily falling into a passionate rhythm. Gasping for air, you pecked him on those perfect lips that were red and puffy from all the assaulting you were doing, but he quickly pulled you in for another, this time, sloppier than ever, encouraged by your own boldness. He was french kissing you. Fairly used to it, but not with the intensity of it, you groaned in welcomed surprise, hands finding the nape of his neck and getting a grip on them, not so gently as you normally did. You pulled his hair down, breaking the kiss, lips tingling and lungs screaming for air. He smirked, feeling smug at the state he left you in.
You rose slightly from his lap, still holding his head and looking straight into his eyes. By holding yourself slightly above him, the pendant of your necklace grazed his chin, like he had imagined many times after watching you fiddle with it. God, it was finally coming true, having you in his arms and intending to let you do whatever you wanted to him and him only, the way that it should be ever since the day you met. You nearly made him go insane, pulling you closer to his body than you ever were, acting like a desperate madman. You smiled down at him and kissed him again, more feverishly than before, trying to tell him through that kiss that you were his. Biting his lower lip and earning a fucking moan, you sat yourself down on him again. You felt his bulge against your clothed core and the light contact made you feel lightheaded.
You were so caught up on him that it almost made you forget you needed to talk to him first. Unfortunately, as you tried to catch your breath and to find the right words to speak, Spencer felt his insecurities creeping up on him. Despite knowing it would be best to talk to you, he felt like voicing it out loud would push you away from him — which he didn't want. He was very comfortable with the indecent small distance between your bodies.
He was fidgety. You knew you needed to address this because your boyfriend wasn't the best at voicing his needs — you remember and giggled internally at how you had been the one to knock on Spencer's door asking him to put an end to your suffering by telling him how you felt. Heh. Kudos to you.
"I wanted to talk about this with you," you murmured, now feeling his kisses peppering the skin of your neck. You knew how much he was hiding from you because he wouldn't stop moving and it was very distracting, but if you didn't speak, it would be the end of you. "I'd ask if you were okay with me and you like this, about taking further steps, shit." You moaned when he fucking bit you and kissed you right after.
He pulled away from you, hands flying up to the back of your head. Foreheads touching, eyes locked in yours. "I want it. I want you, I mean. Been wanting you for some time now—a very long time, yes." He strongly shut his eyes closed, most likely working up the courage to say something. "But I don't want to... disappoint you," he finished, sounding insecure.
Not on your watch.
"Me too, Spence. God, I want you so bad," you answered, unable to look away from him, who now looked down, paying close attention to the rising and falling of your chest. "Hey, look at me, please," you pleaded. His eyes met yours. Oh, those maddening eyes... "Believe me when I tell you, baby, I want you. And if you don't want to do anything, you don't have to. I won't push you, of course. I just wanted to have a conversation with you before, because setting boundaries is important and consent is hot—" he laughed quietly. Making jokes was your go-to way of making situations lighter and he was glad for it then. You smiled when you noticed the sound he made. "And I'm also positively certain that you wouldn't like to have our first time on your couch."
"My first time," he revealed. softly. Eyes not meeting yours.
Oh.
You didn’t falter. "It doesn't change much, baby. I still stand for what I just told you," you assured him, "I want you to enjoy yourself, Spence."
Looking back into your eyes, he declared, "And I want you."
"You can have me," you answered, "You already have."
"You'd need to guide me. You know, hands-on activity. Because I’ve never done it before…" he trailed off.
"Lucky for you, I'm great at teaching."
His grip finds your waist, lips anxiously waiting for yours — and when they touched to mold perfectly in another breathtaking kiss, he felt complete. Like nothing bad could ever happen in the world just because you were in it. His past, his insecurities, the awful things you both saw on the field, nothing mattered. Looking at you, touching you, was a nearly an out of body experience. The things you got him thinking by just kissing him. And he thought his insecurities would get the best of him. Jokes on them, you exist.
You look at him through hooded eyes. "I've never felt like this before. I feel... tingly," he confessed, lovely smile on his face, eyes blinking.
"You're feeling good, handsome," you answered, glancing at his dazed eyes.
A beat of silence. Swallowing second thoughts. "Can you make it better?"
"Is that a request or a challenge?" You asked, grinning.
"A request." He answered shyly, hiding his face on your neck, peppering kisses on your skin. You were going to explode.
"Oh, don't talk to me like that," you shivered, feeling absolutely lost, "I might spoil you and give you everything you want," you sighed.
"Let me have it, then," he answered, voice muffled by your skin.
"I'm all yours, Spencer."
He had the audacity of blushing as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. You smiled at him. In this state, if he asked for you to run naked around town, you probably would. It was dangerous, to say the least. Softly, yet desperate, the words left his lips. "Can I take this off?" He sucked in a breath. "Please?"
"Yes, pretty boy, you can," you answered. "You can have anything. I thought I already said that."
"Yes—You did. You did," he breathed out between needy kisses across your skin, getting rid of your shirt in no time.
At first, he was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He hadn't seen many naked (or semi-naked) women in front of him, but you were something out of this world. The bra you were wearing matched your skin tone and pushed your breasts together and there was the fucking necklace, almost mocking him by being constantly so close, too close to the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The view was almost overwhelming by itself. You looked at him, but he couldn't possibly come up with the words that would describe you in that moment. Words had failed him, nothing else in his mind but you. The tool he used to communicate, to access the world and how it shaped reality, to comprehend the mind of another person, to get to know others... He had nothing left. Except from the pulsing of his boner against your clothed pussy, that is.
Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, Emily Prentiss said, once. Funnily enough, when you passed by wearing a sundress.
Unable to talk but, oh, so able to use his hands, they traveled up to your breasts with a featherlight touch, which didn't stop him from feeling your heartbeat. He let his hands trail over the soft and sheer fabric of the bra you were wearing. Finding your nipples, his touch got more intense. He licked his lips. His actions made you shudder and sent a spark of excitement to your sex. "Pretty," he said. "So, so pretty, my girl."
"Do you like it?" You asked, breathless from a little touching. Pathetic. "I got these thinking of you. Wanna look pretty for you, Spence."
"You are," he said, looking into your eyes, his own foggy, hands reaching to touch your neck. "You're pretty all the time, it's so unfair to me," he murmured. "I really like them on you, but… can I take ‘em off?"
"Yes. You can do anything, Spence."
Spencer wanted to burn the sight of you, in that slightly disheveled state, in the back of his mind so he could remember it forever — not that he would have a hard time trying to remember anything. Nevertheless, he did everything so slowly, almost as if trying to tattoo on the tip of his fingers the softness and temperature of your skin. He inhaled deeply, consumed by your floral-scented perfume and lifted his hands to unclasp your bra. His fingers curiously, but unhurriedly, lowered each of the straps. Like opening a gift that had been so carefully wrapped he didn't want to ruin.
But did he wanted to be ruined by you.
The sight of your bare chest was marvelous, to say the least, and he timidly grazed his fingertips against the exposed area, eliciting goosebumps and a soft whine. His mouth watered, thoughts simply reduced to the need of having you in his mouth. The striped pattern on the soft skin of your breasts around your nipples were faint, barely there, unless if you took a close look at it. It goes without saying that he was blatantly gazing at your bosom at this point.
Pupils dilated, he looked up at you, hungrily, drawing his face closer to you, curls tickling the skin of your collarbone. He inhaled your scent, mind blanking. Tortuously dragging his lips on your skin (and unintentionally smearing some of his saliva on you, he was drooling, after all) as a silent request, the necklace brushing his forehead slightly. The grind of your hips against his answered his plead to taste you.
"Oh—you're so, so good to me, princess," you moaned when he finally wrapped his lips against the nub, playing with the other.
You felt almost overwhelmed with the attention you were getting and the reaction you were having to said attention. Your underwear was sticking almost uncomfortably against your core and you felt yourself aching for some relief, aching for him. So, as Spencer worked his hot tongue on your tits, licking, softly biting, sucking, making a mess on and of you, you busied yourself by chasing the relief you both desperately wanted. The solace it provided you both with was exhilarating and made you feel dazed.
Steadily rocking yourself against him, you earned a few grunts. "You're making a mess of me, pretty boy," you murmured as he switched his attention to the other boob.
"Give it t'me—I want it, I deserve it," he breathed out, body aching with lust, cock pulsing against your covered clit. His words only fueled the fire inside you, the coil in your lower stomach threatening to snap at anytime now.
"Yeah, you do, my boy," you breathed out, pulling the hair on the nape of his neck, nearly tasting your orgasm, "gonna look so pretty when you come for me, won't you, baby?" Both hands gripping your hips, mouth never leaving your skin. You sure would be bruised by tomorrow, but this, this was definitely worth it.
"Yes—Yes, I will," He whined. He fucking whined.
"Tell, me—ah—where do you want to cum, baby?"
"Shit—" until then, you were sure that was a word you'd never hear him saying, let alone that freely. "Gonna—Shitshitshit," moaning out your name.
That's when it hit you that he had cummed his pants. It was such a fat load that it had seeped through both his underwear and his slacks — which prompted you to reach your own high with a moan of his name directly into his ear.
Both of you feeling dizzy, you slump against him, feeling his arms wrapping your frame as you rested your head on his shoulder. You both took deep breaths, the only sound in the room. Well, besides the movie you both totally ignored.
"I can't get up right now... My legs feel wobbly," you chuckled. "Are you okay, Spence?" You asked, looking at him when you didn't get an answer.
"Yeah, 'm fine," he answered, "I mean, I'll be fine as soon as I recover from you."
You laughed sincerely, "From me? What have I done to you?"
"You gave me what I wanted, you spoiled me, you broke me," he said, a silly smile adorning his pretty face. You pushed him playfully. "I can't even explain what I'm feeling right now. My brain has stopped working ever since you straddled me. Are you trying to kill me?"
"No, babe."
"Wrong answer. You're so gonna keep doing that to me, so you'll definitely be trying to killing me from now on." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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kajibunny · 5 months ago
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ we're just friends! (or are we?) w/ the wind breaker boys ✧⋆⭒˚。
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✿ featuring: hajime umemiya, jo togame, haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji ✿ fluff, mutual pining, hidden feelings (aaaa), suggestive for suo, a lil angst (with comfort) for kaji ✿ a/n: i guess by now everyone can tell that i’m very into the friends to lovers trope ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა~♡ it’s def my fav!!! and these wb bois are all perfect friend material, and ofc boyfriend material too! enjoy, cuties! ✿ wc: 2.3k
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— you have a closely intimate friendship to the point that everyone around you thinks you two are dating, though you know you're not lovers (yet), but are definitely more than just friends.
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ʚɞ umemiya 
— sharing hello and goodbye kisses with each other.
ꕤ you and umemiya are the definition of 'affectionate', as your love languages both consist of physical touch. but maybe with each other, a little bit too much for just friends.
ꕤ the word "boundaries" did not exist to the both of you once you were within arm's reach of each other. you and umemiya give each other hello and goodbye hugs, sometimes cheek and forehead kisses, as a greeting, right? to be friendly. though he doesn't seem to do that as often to other people, or at all, even. just to you. only to you. 
ꕤ he also loves cuddling up to you whenever he takes a nap on the rooftop, inviting you to join him in picking out some veggies that you two could make a meal together with.
ꕤ while you two were cooking together, you definitely gave off a 'married couple' vibe with the way you held the ladle up for umemiya to taste, the way he had pressed his palm to your back whenever he needed to pass through, the way he fed you with his own spoon and giggling while complimenting how delicious your cooking was, the way he wrapped his arms around you and hummed while he helped you wash the dishes. anyone who saw would have immediately bid their congratulations and would think you two are newlyweds.
ꕤ hiragi took one look at the both of you appearing all lovey-dovey, and the confusion of whether you two were dating or not made his stomach scrunch up in pain. 
ꕤ umemiya calls you such adorable names when referring to you in conversation, too. his tiny bean, his ray of sunshine, his cherry blossom, it was always "his", as if you belonged to him. he was openly affectionate with you and was not afraid to show it.
ꕤ many guys also took a liking to you, but never attempted to even make a move or confess, because they were already under the assumption that you were umemiya's, seeing you two playing with each other's fingers and comparing hand sizes like you were made for each other. but how could that be, you and umemiya were just friends, weren't you?
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ʚɞ suo 
— you get a special seat (on his lap).
ꕤ suo just can't seem to keep his eyes and his hands off of you. you always have to be within his vicinity, or he's not sure how he'll be able to stand it. 
ꕤ he sees you at the corner of his eye, after you have made your way back from the restroom. you and the other bofurin first years were at an izakaya, and the moment you returned, all of their eyes were glued to you and suo, as if they already knew something was going to ensue. you two have been friends for a long time, but the way you acted towards each other felt like you two have been lovers for a long time.
ꕤ suo was always up in your space, whether its pulling random pranks on you, inviting you to go out then paying for everything even though you tried to stop him (nothing can stop suo), visiting your home and leaving an endless supply of tea enough to last you a whole year - his excuse being it's there for whenever he comes over, and multiple instances which all prove that suo was no doubt a very clingy friend. not that you minded, anyway. you were used to suo and his antics.
ꕤ he had his ways of persuading you too (he is the master of negotiation, after all), and you just couldn't resist him, as you loved being around suo just as much. 
ꕤ this time, he took advantage of your short absence and made himself comfortable in your chair, and wouldn't even move an inch. "hayato, that's my seat!" you exclaimed. "hm?" suo tilts his head. "you can just sit on my lap, then." he smiles, with that damn mischievous smile you know all too well. you tried to get him to move by gently pushing him back and forth but suo seemed to not have a care in the world. 
ꕤ you can't tell whether suo is serious or joking sometimes, but nirei and sakura seems to have their doubts that you two are "just friends" as you both claim.  "are you sure the two of you aren't dating?" nirei asks you. sakura blushes and lets you know his thoughts, too. "y-yeah...! you two are unusually close!" you always reply to them with an astounding "no!" but suo just laughs and does not affirm nor deny any of their claims. 
ꕤ suo pulls you in close, making you sit on his lap regardless of your little outburst, and you weren't sure if it was hot in the izakaya, or if it's just you, but you certainly felt warmth overcome your body while it was pressed flush against his, his arms wrapped around your waist nonchalantly. "hayato!" you protested, trying to squirm your way out of his grasp, and pushing away all intrusive thoughts about his and your bottom halves being so close together, only separated by thin pieces of clothing.
ꕤ nirei, the most observant of the bunch (next to suo), points out that you even call suo by his first name, and that's another one of the reasons why you two seem like you're dating. 
ꕤ with suo, everything seems to be a mystery. but in suo's perspective, it's all clear. he loves you, whether it's as a friend or as a lover, that's for him to know and for you to find out. 
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ʚɞ togame 
— leaves everyone on read except you.
ꕤ togame just doesn't understand why people need to type out what they want to say, aren't calls more personalized? he didn't understand at all, until he met you.
ꕤ you were, to put it directly, a chatterbox in all forms. you loved to talk, regardless if it's chats, calls, or in person, you just yapped your heart out to him everytime, and he lives for it. he wouldn't miss a second of you opening your mouth and giving him a taste of your innermost thoughts. he absolutely adored talking to you, because it was you, and you were special to him.
ꕤ the shishitoren guys thought it was so funny and adorable whenever togame picks up his phone so quickly because he thought it was you calling, then scowls when he realizes it isn't, and immediately silences it and shoves it back in his pocket. this caused him to set a different ringtone just for you, so he could pick up on the very first ring.
ꕤ you were also the first reply he ever sent via sms, a simple "ok" to your long message talking about how you thought it was amazing that he won the town's annual eating contest for many consecutive years in a row and that you were totally ready to challenge him next year by stuffing your face with okonomiyaki and invited togame to join you and have some with you so you could keep an eye on the competition. he found your personality totally amusing, his face immediately lighting up with a gentle smile whenever you sent him messages.
ꕤ anyone who sees how happy he is while he rereads your texts over and over would interpret that as togame being totally, irrevocably, head over heels in love with you.
ꕤ he doesn't actually reply to anyone at all ever, but he wanted to share all his firsts with you, he just couldn't help it. you were captivating, witty in your words, and very very charismatic, bombarding him with the cutest and funniest messages everyday. of course, he doesn't mind at all and is always looking forward to them.
ꕤ you two stay on calls for longer than eight hours at a time talking about how each other's day went, and yet you wonder why people always think you two are dating. normal friends don't stay up until the break of dawn chattering for hours on end, expressing all the things they like about each other, do they? at least togame knows he wouldn't do it with anyone that wasn't you, as he valued his precious sleep time dearly, but as time went on, you became more precious and more dear to him than his sleep time ever could.
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ʚɞ kaji 
— play fighting like an old married couple.
ꕤ kaji is the type to never go down without a fight. needless to say, that also applies to you. but your fights with him were different, more banter adjacent, more affectionate and playful. only lasting for a few minutes.
ꕤ kaji had a huge soft spot for you, as even though you did irritate the heck out of him sometimes, somehow he still could not stay angry or annoyed at you for more than one second. he just couldn't resist the way you crossed your arms and huffed with your cute little frown. he thought you were the most adorable angry little thing he's ever seen and wanted to pinch your cheeks out of cuteness aggression and frustration, but he would never say it to your face.
ꕤ one time, you two had a heated argument because he said he could hear you just fine but wouldn't bother to take off his headphones. you argued that it was impolite and that you won't talk to him at all anymore if he does that again, and you two were at each other's throats, giving one another a piece of your mind, until kaji mutters a 'sorry', and you began to sob uncontrollably and let him hold you in his arms while he stroked your hair to comfort you because you two couldn't stand the intensity and tension of being angry at each other for long.
ꕤ you had your less serious fights too, like when you made him a bento box for lunch and you two had a picnic together with his vice captains. you fed him the food with your chopsticks, kaji teasing you by saying "it's bland." and you reasoning out that kaji was 'as salty as his tastebuds'. kaji then asked you if you wanted to have 'a taste of his fists', which ended up with kusumi and enomoto snickering in the background wishing that the both of you would just date each other already.
ꕤ whenever you two argued, your faces were so close to one another's that you were just a few centimeters shy from kissing, the tip of your noses touching. kaji had to hold himself back, a lot. like an insane amount. friends didn't want to kiss and make out with their friends, right? but kaji did. and you did too.
ꕤ his way of apologizing is by suddenly leaving a lollipop with you. he puts them in your bag, or places them in your pocket while you weren't looking. it was his little peace offering, one that you treasured and collected, accumulating dozens of them by your bedside table. kaji would gladly give up his last lollipop for you, and no one could argue otherwise.
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ʚɞ sakura 
— blushing wildly whenever you two are around each other.
ꕤ you and sakura always looked like you two were having a blushing competition. the littlest touches and the most minimal contact had both of your cheeks heating up in response.
ꕤ it was like sakura's blushing was contagious. ever since you two became good friends (if you could call it that, though it seemed to be more than that at times), being around him triggered a whole bunch of embarrassing and hilarious but sweet situations.
ꕤ you once dragged sakura off to his very first cherry blossom viewing in the park, and needless to say, with both of you being a chaotic (but cute) duo, it kind of felt like you were on a wild rollercoaster ride with him. 
ꕤ you took a stolen photo of sakura while he was mesmerized by the falling pink petals. you thought he looked adorable, but sakura thought otherwise. he was a blushing mess and told you to delete them, but you said they were cute and that you were going to make it your wallpaper. 
ꕤ sakura chased after you, and tripped over a stray cherry blossom branch, leaving you two in quite a suggestive position, sakura on top of you, pinning your wrist down with his hand. your cheeks were as pink as the cherry blossoms, and tried as you might, you couldn't keep your eyes off his lips. friends don't observe their friends with wanting eyes, do they? 
ꕤ suo and nirei instantly noticed how huge of a klutz you were around sakura. they also noticed how curious sakura was about you, always (not so subtly) asking nirei how much he knew about you, or your likes and dislikes, then asked him not to tell you that he asked about you. but suo told you instead, because they were your biggest supporters and cheerleaders (and biggest shippers, of course) after all. 
ꕤ on sakura's birthday, they made you hold the cake and surprise him, which was a huge mistake, because before it could even reach him, you slipped and fell over him. luckily, sakura had good reflexes and was able to catch you before you completely toppled over. some of the smushed cake ended up on his and your face, which you tried to wipe off as you apologized, but sakura dipped his finger onto the icing that got on your cheek and licked his finger. "t-the cake's not bad, i guess..." he looked away from your smiling face as you greeted him happy birthday in a sing-song tune.
ꕤ suo, being a menace, greeted sakura happy birthday as well as gave him a 'best wishes to the happy couple' greeting card, that sakura threw back at him like it had a virus on it. 
ꕤ sakura definitely had a memorable birthday that year, but now that he thought about it, all of his memories that were memorable to him had one thing in common: you were in all of them. you, the greatest gift he could ever ask for on any and every occasion. 
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malum-forev · 4 months ago
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Unexpected
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“I can’t believe people actually fall for these kinds of things,” Bucky scoffs, flicking one of the drooping petals on the flower arrangement. “Ridiculous, right?”
He looks over at Sam, wanting some kind of backup from his partner, only to receive a shrug in response. Bucky rolls his eyes, having flowers delivered to the compound seemed so overplayed in his mind.
“No self respecting woman could actually want to date someone who outsources something like giving flowers.” Bucky mutters, his fingers itch to look at the card to see who they’re from. And more importantly, who they’re for.
“Can’t say I agree with you on this one Buck,” Sam leans back on the conference room chair, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. “Flower delivery is a normal thing in the modern world, not that I expected you to know. You’re not exactly the romantic type.”
He tries to not let Sam’s comment bug him, but it does. A lot. Back when he was alive the first time, Bucky was over the top. So over the top that some women’s knees physically buckled when they saw his gifts and acts of love. Sure, some of the things he only did to get into their pants but who cares, they were romantic nonetheless. 
Bucky tries to concentrate on your detailed plan for the mission but he’s done this a thousand times and could quite possibly complete this recon mission in his sleep and more importantly, the flower debacle is still present. The plastic vase sitting in the middle of the conference table taunts him. The folded card underneath it was basically begging for him to take a look.
He lingers after the meeting, saying some excuse about wanting to look over the documents when really, his curiosity is what’s keeping him seated. 
In his defense, your floor of the compound rarely gets any deliveries, let alone “romantic” ones. At least what people now think is romantic. Apart from Sam, himself and you, the other people on the floor are either married or forever alone. Leave the cheesy displays of affection for the lower level agents, the ones who still get the hots from one look.
Bucky looks both ways, making sure no one catches him as he slips the card from under the vase and reads it. 
Thought of you today. Have a nice week. 
“Nice week? What a loser.” Bucky blows raspberries, throwing the card back on the table. 
“Can I help you with something, Barnes?” Bucky jumps up in his spot as he hears your voice coming from behind him. 
“Just reading this extensive report,” Bucky lifts up the corners of the papers. “Great to know you have so much spare time.”
To say you and Bucky have a complicated relationship is an understatement. You think he’s a reckless agent that gets away with everything just because he was Captain America’s friend and he thinks that you aren’t reliable on the field because you second guess everything. Match made in heaven, right? Not a single mission you’ve been on has resulted in the two of you being civil. It always ends with a catfight and both of you trying to one up the other one.
“I don’t have time for this. Right now all I want is to go home and get some rest before we have to leave in a couple of days.” You roll your eyes, picking up some of the extra copies for the other agents you’re taking on the mission before grabbing the flowers from the table. 
“Are those yours?” Bucky’s voice pitches up, like he can’t seriously believe someone sent you flowers. 
“This is exactly what I don’t have time for.” You huff, leaving him behind in the conference room, wishing he’d just drop it. But knowing Barnes, and hearing his combat boots smack on the floor behind you, he won’t stop. 
“Who is he?” He raises his eyebrows, walking next to you, covering the elevator buttons with his hands so you can’t press either button. 
“Barnes,” You warn. “I’d rather not spend any more time with you than what’s required for my job.”
“Me neither,” Bucky nods. “So, if you can just tell me who sent you the flowers we can go on our way and not talk until we absolutely have to.”
“Does it matter who they’re from?” 
Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course it matters, I’ve never known you to like someone enough to give them your work address. I’ve never known you to like someone, period. So, yes, it matters.”
“Why would I tell you?” You quickly press the arrow pointing upwards as Bucky gets distracted with his dig at your non-existent love life. “So you can go and tell him what a big mistake he’s making?”
“That, and maybe I just want to know if he’s a real life breathing man.” He shrugs as you get in the elevator. “With eyes and ears and all those things one would need to know you really.”
“Great, thanks for the motivational talk I so didn’t need.” You flip him off as the doors close. 
-o-
Your head bounces against the side of the plane as you go through some turbulence but you try not to let it disturb you. But it’s something else that wakes you up, or rather, someone else. 
“I’ve come to the conclusion that he works somewhere in the compound.” Bucky drops his body in the seat next to you, his loud voice making your eyes snap open. 
“I’m resting before the mission,” You narrow your eyes at him. “And having you talk to me is messing that up.”
“You’re not disagreeing.” Bucky hums. 
“The only reason I haven’t flipped you over and dislocated your shoulder is because you have somehow gotten on Sam’s good side and I don’t want him giving me his disapproving father look.”
“Just tell me.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes are looking straight into yours. 
“Tell you what?” You throw your head back with a groan. 
“Who the flowers are from.”
“You’re still on that?” You quirk one eyebrow.
“You never answered it.”
The questions seemed to have died down once you closed your eyes again but Bucky popped up whenever you expected him least.
You rummage through the office of the suspect that had just been killed. A doctor that was once Hydra had been trying to replicate the super soldier serum, the animal testing had been positive and a couple of dog sized rats still lived in his office. 
“Can you tell me what area he’s in?” Bucky leans on the doorframe and the sudden sound has you bringing your gun to his forehead. 
“I could have killed you just now,” You heave. “And I wish I would have, I think death is the only thing that’s going to stop you from asking all these questions.”
“You could just answer.” Bucky shrugs, looking both ways, making sure no one’s around.
“Why do you want to know?” You huff. 
“I want to know who’s romancing you.” Bucky acts like he doesn’t care, but the truth is that he’s spent the last few days with you and only you on his mind. 
The thought of you dating someone that does the bare minimum makes him frown. He’s never given a second thought to your dating life but if he had to rack his brain, Bucky would assume that you would date someone who’s competent enough to handle your wit and your moods, someone who gets your strength and doesn’t try to undermine you, someone who can handle the emotional baggage that comes with this job and doesn’t judge you. Someone who will hand deliver flowers to your apartment to show you he likes you, instead of having them delivered so that everyone thinks he likes you.
“Why do you care about my love life all of a sudden?” You snap at him and it actually stops him in his tracks. 
Bucky stares back at you with half a breath sucking in his lungs.
Love. 
You actually said the word love. 
Nothing’s ever happened between you two (except for that night the two of you spent cuddling together after neither of you wanted to sleep on the floor, but you swore you’d never speak of it again), but you’ve been a constant in Bucky’s life for years. And he doesn’t deal with change very easily. 
If you’re so freely talking about having a love life, as opposed to what? a like life? Get yourself together Barnes! he scolds himself, that means that soon enough you’ll be bringing this mediocre boyfriend around the tower, which means he’ll have to practice his “I’m trying to act like I care what you’re telling me” smile in the mirror while he’s bumped into the guy while you’re still getting ready because lord knows you love to take your sweet time getting ready! And that means that he’ll have to get a tux for your wedding because who would be stupid enough to not marry someone as intelligent and beautiful as you, and that means that you’ll take a leave for your honeymoon but knowing you, work will follow you to said honeymoon. You never stop working and Bucky’s warned you about your body taking a toll after all those years. 
“You’re one to talk.” He remembers you rolling your eyes at him the time he said it. 
God, your eyes. He’s going to miss your eyes. In the morning, you’ll look at him from over your boiling hot coffee cup. Bucky knows that you like to drink your coffee before the sun goes up because, in your words, I want to have at least a couple of minutes to myself before the world needs me. He’d never admit it to anyone but he sometimes acts like he’s had nightmares keeping him up at night just so he can share those quiet moments with you.
And after the tsunami of memories he won’t share with you anymore subsides, another wave comes crashing in. Soon you’ll be retiring, Bucky’s seen you with Morgan. It’s clear you want kids of your own some day. And you sure as hell won’t be having them when someone like Bucky Barnes is your partner. Bucky knows he’s a risk, he wouldn’t judge you if you thought it too. 
“Okay, we’re done here. I’m leaving, White Wolf hot on my heels.” You speak into the chip, making him snap out of his thoughts and return to Earth.
“As always, thanks for doing nothing, Barnes.” You laugh, slapping Bucky's shoulders as you pass him.
Bucky’s lungs burn as he runs alongside you down the corridor, trying to make up for all of the air he didn’t get as he spiraled. 
-o-
Bucky is up and it’s not because he heard the door hinges creak as you came inside or the slapping of your heels on the old wooden floor. It’s because he hasn’t been able to sleep since you left. 
He acted tired and fake yawned all the way to his room as you passed by, all maked-up and perfumed, when in reality he spent the rest of the night trying to decipher a video game someone recommended. 
Bucky’s verdict: I’ve been to war, I don’t need to play make believe. 
He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds coming from the kitchen. You opened the fridge door and took a glass bottle of sorts out. From the cork popping, he figured out you were taking out your favorite wine. 
Bucky walks quietly towards the kitchen, not wanting to startle you. 
You gasp as you turn around, cork in your mouth and wine glass filled to the brim in your left hand. 
“I thought everyone would be asleep by now.” You spit the cork into the trash, lowering your face so your hair fans over your features. 
“Nightmares,” Bucky mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing at your unusual mannerisms. 
“Well, now you know who was out here.” You walk past him. “Goodnight Barnes.”
But before you can leave, Bucky holds your arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” You try to release from his grip but you know you’re no match for the vibranium arm. 
Bucky lifts up a trembling hand to your face and moves away your hair. Your normally bright eyes now look dull. Red blotching around your irises and black ink running down your face.
“You’ve been crying.” Bucky’s jaw tightens. 
“Thanks for that, Sergeant Obvious,” You scoff. “You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a living, breathing woman with feelings. I know they make you uncomfortable because you don’t have any but I do.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I’m a person and as much as I would like to be as robotic as you are, sometimes people do things that hurt me.” You roll your eyes. “Next time I have feelings, I’ll make sure to take care of them before I enter the tower so you won’t be bothered.”
“Why are you crying?” He hisses, shutting his eyes before he sees red. “Who made you cry? Tell me a name and I’ll have them killed before dawn.”
“What?”
“No one makes my girl cry.”
Your mouth opens and closes as you try to understand what Bucky just said. The man who’s constantly bothering you and making your life quite impossible is threatening to kill someone just because you shed a couple of tears?
Bucky runs his hands down his face. “We’re wasting precious time here baby, just give me a name and I’ll do the rest.”
“You don’t care,” You tell him but his expression doesn’t change. “You’re not supposed to care. Why do you?”
“The other day, when you told me about the flower idiot, I may have realized something.” Bucky lets out a deep breath. “You’re my partner on the field but you’re much more than that in here.”
Your hand shakes as Bucky takes it and presses your palm flat on his chest. 
“I’m thinking of you when I wake up, hoping I catch you before you get ready. You’re on my mind when we’re training because I want to teach you everything I know, and I want you to teach me how you twisted the agent’s arm and dislocated his knee at the same time. Most of the times when we’re out on missions I’m reckless because I want to keep you safe. I don’t care what happens to me, you’re what needs to be taken care of. At night I dream of you, and then I wake up feeling hollow.”
“You’re too good for me and I know that but that doesn’t mean that some jackass can take you out and then make you cry. If that’s the standard then I’m way above average, baby.” Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “And I know you don't want me because, who would? But-”
You slam your lips on his, stopping him completely. 
Both of you are starved for touch, wanting to explore every inch of the other. His hands roam your body as yours get tangled in his hair. 
Heavy breathing takes over the kitchen as you separate. 
“Why did it take you so long to tell me?” You rest your forehead on his. 
“Why did it take you so long to kiss me?”
tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1@aorifukuzawa@sammyssm@alana4610. @mrsjobarnes@vicmc624@unkasworld@theroyalmanatee@almosttoopizza@cjand10@cremebruleequeen@buggy14@jasminocano.@isabel-ffl-xoxo@wintrsoldrluvr@kandis-mom@12345sebby@tittittoee @unaxv. @teambarnes72@angelicrexi@she-wolf09231982@wilsons-striped-ties@tmb510@capswife@pono-pura-vida@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes@tatianah26@drewsuncrustable@minmiin1d
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evilminji · 7 months ago
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You knooooowwww... >.>
The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...
Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?
How many people will dig deeper?
If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.
So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?
Well...
Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?
And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.
They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.
And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.
Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?
Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?
YOU COVER IT!
It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.
Danny was Not Prepared ™.
He loves it though.
Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr
If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.
He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.
Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!
He's probably gonna come back!
Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!
Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.
It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.
Who hired this man?
WHY!?
I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter
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rebelspykatie · 6 months ago
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Part 2
Part 1
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie stands and follows Steve to the door as he’s pulling on his shoes. He wants to stop him, pull the shoe out of his hand and drag Steve back to the couch, but he doesn’t have any right. He’s not entirely sure Steve won’t push him away if he tries to touch him right now, anyways.
“You think I’m straight and I was convinced you were into me,” Steve leans against the door frame to pull his other shoe on. He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve never listened to Robin an-”
“Robin was in on this?” He interrupts that thought. It throws Eddie. They’re such a tight knit group, he doesn’t know how they were so far off track with him.
“We spent hours going through every stupid interaction we had. Thought we had it all figured out.” He huffs and walks back over to the coffee table to pick up his wallet and keys. “I guess we’re both idiots.”
“No, Steve,” he tries to reach out and grab Steve’s arm, but he moves too quickly and Eddie’s left grasping air, “you’re not.”
“It’s fine, I’m used to it, anyways.” Steve scrambles to pull his sweater back on, the cold just starting to seep into the night air outside.
“Can you just slow down for a second?” Eddie stops trying to catch Steve and plants himself in front of the door. “What do you mean, you’re used to it?”
“Are you going to trap me here?”
“Answer the question.”
“This part, Eddie,” he sighs and gestures between them like that means anything to Eddie. “Everyone I’ve ever confessed to or made a move on has had the same reaction.” He looks off to the side, unable to look Eddie in the eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m the problem. Good ole Steve Harrington, too stupid to notice no one is interested in him.”
“Steve, you’re not stupid.”
“Feels like it most of the time.” He pinches his nose again, still not looking at Eddie, more like through him, gaze pinned to somewhere in the middle of Eddie’s chest. “Can you please move? We can pretend like this never happened and I promise I won’t make any weird moves on you ever again. I’m still friends with Nancy and Robin after everything, I can do it with you, too.”
Eddie skips over the whole Robin part of that in his head because he doesn’t have the brain power to analyze anything beyond Steve’s feelings for him. He never saw this coming. No one, boy or girl or anything in between, has ever made a move on Eddie before. He’s the local freak. There’s no way he could have predicted the town’s golden boy hero would make the moves on him.
He takes in how disheveled Steve’s become in the last few minutes. How hastily he’s thrown on his sweater. The mess of Steve’s hair from the hand that’s run through it several times since he got up from the couch. Barely laced up shoes so he could get out the door faster. He’s normally so put together and this, the sight of him so frazzled, frightens Eddie.
They were fast friends after everything happened with Vecna, leaning on each other for support. Becoming inseparable with King Steve wasn’t something Eddie ever imagined, but it was so easy. Neither of them were what each other had built up in their heads from the rumor mill around Hawkins. Eddie’s never had a guy friend as close as Steve. Sure, he had Hellfire and Corroded Coffin, but Eddie’s always been a bit of a loner.
It was impossible to feel alone with Steve as a friend. He had a way of knowing when you needed support, always just there when Eddie felt alone or needed a physical presence when the weight of the upside down was dragging him down. There wasn’t a day in the past six months that Eddie didn’t see Steve, even if it was only in passing or a quick little jaunt down to Family Video, he’s a constant presence in Eddie’s life.
To lose that? Would be like losing a part of himself. Like losing a limb. Losing his home.
And he’s scared. He doesn’t want to let Steve walk out that door, the weight of losing him forever lingering in the air. But he can’t trap him here. That wouldn’t be fair to Steve.
He moves out of the way, taking a step towards Steve, but he sidesteps Eddie and reaches for the door.
“Steve-”
“Don’t worry about me, Eddie,” he doesn’t turn around, but hesitates halfway out the door. “I’ll be fine.”
With the soft click of the door closing, he’s gone.
And that should be the end of it. Closed book. Eddie doesn’t like Steve and Steve needs to move on. There’s not much Eddie can do about that.
But it haunts him.
If you didn’t know Steve, you wouldn’t realize that anything was wrong. He’s acting normal, smile on his face when he jokes with Robin, complaining about the kids being terrors, going to his job.
But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, in the way his smile droops when he thinks no one’s paying attention to him, in the way Robin protectively hovers around him when Eddie is nearby. It’s clearly a facade he’s putting on to get by.
And Eddie aches. There’s a pit in his stomach that opened up that day and it hasn’t closed. Steve avoids his touch and the chasm grows larger, dragging Eddie further into the darkness. Casual hangouts halted. No more divulging of nightmares or fears late at night. A piece of Eddie is with Steve and he’s bereft of comfort. Unsettled.
He lies awake replaying that kiss over and over in his head. Thinking about what Steve said after. There’s no comfort in the way he handled the situation. It feels like he miscalculated, like pushing Steve away was the wrong move and now his life will never be the same again.
Maybe it won’t. Maybe there’s no way for them to move forward and for him to not break Steve’s heart every day. Steve said he was an idiot, but Eddie’s positive he’s got it all backwards. Eddie’s the idiot.
And he can’t stop thinking about kissing Steve.
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book 7 part 11 thoughts! (nov 22nd update)
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***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 11 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 192 to part 211, covering Jack and Ruggie’s dreams. You can see my comments on Leona's dream here!
Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.
xbsbdkshwkw AZUL FAINTED WITH HIS EYES OPEN FROM THE FALL… This guy keeps taking the Ls early on in this update cuz he also got reminded that Idia recorded him in his own dream shouting “KRACKEN SHOT” which is very embarrassing.
Silver and Azul are able to change into their school uniforms without Idia’s incantation. Apparently Silver mastered the magic of changing clothes because he was so often oversleeping for class and had to prepare quickly for them. This shocks Sebek, who has yet to master this kind of magic. (Maybe it’s also a consequence of him being a first year?? 😂)
They briefly discuss how Silver looks like a prince when he’s riding his horse; Azul saw him in a Magicam cut of the Equestrian Club. Previously, we knew from Riddle’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes that the brown horse he rides is named Vorpal. Here we get confirmation of Silver and Sebek’s horses—Samson (a white horse, sharing the same name as Prince Phillip’s steed) and Tempest, respectively.
They have landed in front of the gates of NRC and run into Jack there. He seems to be rushing to the colosseum…? Let’s follow him!!
OKAY
OKAY
OKAY
JACK HOWL YOu’RE oN MY ShiT LiST OTL YOU KNOW Ehat tHIS GUY DREAmed ABOUT???????!!!?!?!!?! It’s the year after their instaloss to Diasomnia in the interdorm tournament (don’t ask me why Malleus and Leona aren’t off at their internships at this point, dream logic I guess???). Dream!Leona has gathered all odds Savanaclaw in the colosseum to train so this year they can take Malleus and beat Diasomnia head-on, no tricks. HE EVEN GiVES A N OPTIMISTIC SpEECH AbOUT THE POWEr oF TEAMWORK TO RALLY EVERYONE… and declares he’ll be the next “king” 💀 Such overwhelming confidence… JSCK DRWAMED Of a DORM LEADER thAt PLAys BY THE RULES AnD IS 💯 ConFidENT IN THEMEKvES…
Grim is so grossed out seeing this version of Leona that he wants to wake Jack up right the fuck now 😭
AzUL YOU ASSHoLE???? He acts all fake surprised about “the incident” that happened at the intetdorm tournament and like bro had no part in instigating that stampede.
They start to formulate a plan to wake Jack up, but are worried about dream!Leona since Leona irl is a very strong mage, the darkness posing as Leona could be even stronger than usual. But at the same time we can’t risk casting a spell that’s too strong ourselves or it might call Malleus’s attention. They suggest to use Azul as a clincher since he would theoretically have access to all the magic he stole irl in the dream. Surely one of those could help?
Jack scores against the defense, Ruggie. While the Savanaclaw students are going over his play, Yuu and friends stroll up (including Idia vis a full body projection). Grim tells Savanaclaw they’re Team Ramshackle here to play them!
Ruggie says there’s no point; their team is made up of weaklings! But then Azul gives his OWN speech about how Octavinelle and Ignihyde are always dead last in magift tournaments and this time they really trained hard because they wanna be better 🥺 and besides, isn’g magift a game of wits and not brute magic/physical strength??? This catches the attention of dream!Leona who agrees to the play. He considers fellow dorm leaders worthy opponents, and also had a bone yo pick with Sebek and Silver. (Also??? Sounds like Ignihyde got their asses beat by the Pomefiore team in this year’s interdorm tournament.)
HEKP THIS mAn HE’S SuFFERINNNNG 💀 Azul is really out of it so he calls for a time out. Idia takes this opportunity to make fun of him again for being tired now when he was the captain of Golden Trident in his own dream. At least Sebek is nice and offers Azul some water.
Sebek messes up and the frisbee goes out of bounds?? WYat THE FuVk dream!Leona goes over and helps Sebek up after he’s fallen… “Oh, so Jack has made a senpai he can truly respect.” “Oh, the REAL Leona wouldn’t do something so noble like that.” GROSS GROSS GROSS GET IT OUTTA HERE 🤢
Oooh, interesting?? Ortho reasons that when you’re excited, you’re more likely to be influenced by emotions when making decisions; they’ll take advantage of the exercise high everyone on to break through to Jack. He and Jack end up flying out to space as they’re squaring off in magift; when Jack realizes how far he has flown up, he’s shocked. Don’t they need oxygen to breathe here?! It’s here that Ortho reveals this is all a dream to him.
Jack is so shocked by the news that he wakes—and then falls out of the sky?! Silver immediately runs to protect everyone. Idia uses the Dream Form Change to forcibly swap Ortho to his Cerberus Gear and Jack to his Dorm Uniform, which help to cushion the blow of their crash landing. Then dream!Leona comes over to check on Jack and decides to bench him.
The darkness tries to deceive Jack, but he actually punches back and refuses to be tricked. bcdbbsksks He cries a little and goes on about how he was so inspired by watching Leona play on TV he’d watch it over and over… only to be disappointed by reality. Jack goes a little overboard though, he starts attacking US too, thinking we’re fakes as well.
Jack quickly comes to see reason and stops trying to deck us. Sebek still seems salty at Savanaclaw for what they tried to pull in book 2 and again reminds Jack of those injustices, saying he won’t forgive them. To his surprise, Jack admits wrongdoing and says it’s only natural some people would still hold grudges and choose to not forgive them. Sebek is so shocked by the fact that honest people like Jack exist in Savanaclaw. Aw… baby’s having his prejudice challenged…
Mentioning this for the Jack lovers: Jack pets Grim on the head and praises him!
LMAo????? Jack grabs Silver’s arm to travel with them and is shocked by how it looks slender but actually you can tell he has trained a ton by feeling it!
They land in Sunrise City in Sunset Savanna. Everyone tells Jack about Dream Form Change, which he says is a spell that looks like it’s from an anime his kid sister watched before. Jack has a had time saying the spell because he finds it embarrassing, but he’s eventually goaded into it (especially by Sebek, who tells him to chat it with his whole damn chest).
Beastman lore!! Apparently beastmen are considered a genus and all beastmen come from Sunset Savanna; over time, they migrated to other parts of the world, especially to some colder locations northward. Jack’s family is included in this, as well as Sebek’s. His grandfather apparently used to live in the wetlands of Sunset Savanna. I guess it just goes to show that no matter how different their individual practices and beliefs… they have common roots.
While they’re admiring the statue of the lion prince in the center of Sunrise City, they notice no hyenas are among the gathered animals. They suggest that maybe the statue was made before the King of Beasts united all animals; the hyenas used to live in their own place called the Land of Shadows.
They review some Sunset Savanna lore, including how difficult it is to unite beastmen of different kinds and how there's a pushback against development due to many beastmen wanting to respect nature. Sometimes the disputes can become violent, and it's all over the news. SHOCKINGLY, Idia has a moment of clarity and realizes that this must be why Leona chose the internship he did at a mining and energy company 😭
Everyone begins to suspect the dream is Leona’s but right then Ruggie rushes by them, declaring that he’s late for school. Jack is surprised that Ruggie is in glasses because in Savanavlaw he would brag about having good eyes.
Ruggie cuts through the market to get to school on time; he seems friendly with the folks and many of them offer him free food. Jack remarks that Ruggie is seen as a hero in his hometown, so maybe this explains the NPCs’ behavior. Apparently he is also an honors student in this world.
Anyway, Ruggie arrives at Ivory Cliff! It seems this school doesn’t exist irl; it’s only in Ruggie’s dream. Most of it is beastment, and over half are hyenas.
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Grim watches Ruggie and mobs A and B eating food and leaps in to get some!! (Azul apologizes and lies that Grim is his familiar, lol) Sebek chides Grim for doing this, but then his own stomach growls, giving his own hunger away. He of course denies his hunger—but Ruggie says it’s okay and invites them all to eat!! The local children come to their campus just to have food too. Ivorycliff Academy was built in honor of the three hyenas who served the King of Beasts. They used to be do starved that they could cry, so the school is dedicated to feeding the hungry in the spirit of solidarity.
BRUH 😭 YOu’RE KIDDING ME… In his dream, Ruggie’s dad never left him… He came back for his son with a fortune he made from working. Ruggie also bought a new car for his granny and never has to be hungry again. Jack wonders if it is really right to take away happiness like that, but ultimately he decides he doesn’t want to see his senpai living a false reality.
Ruggie shows them to a school donut stall with all-you-can-eat toppings. He dumps everything onto a single donut and calls it the "Ruggie Special". The owner drops the lore that in the universe of this dream, apparently LEONA built the school.
According to donut lady, Leona graduated last year and came back after graduating to strengthen his country. He has established several schools and even magift teams. Among young people in the Sunset Savanna, Leona is supposedly also more popular than the crown prince.
Ruggie runs off to class and we stay behind to eat. Donut lady turns to darkness and attacks us, so we beat it back.
Everyone thinks it will be hard to wake Ruggie since he has never met Leona in this reality and doesn’t have any memories of NRC, his club activities, etc. There isn’t much for him to emotionally react to.
WHAT THE HECK is this a Mufasa movie reference in Twst 😭 Ruggie and some mobs talk about a sequel (that’s a live action prequel, I think??) about two characters who are enemies but were actually friends in their youth. Or maybe they’re just talking about some other Lion King prequel I’m not aware of???
J kb bajabakan ahaGayatwHAT
Azul tosses coins of different values which attracts Ruggie’s attention. He has the unique ability to tell the value of a coin just from the sound of it, a skill which Azul learned about from observing Ruggie when he worked part-time at the Mostro Lounge.
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Anyway, Ruggie tells mobs A and B to go home without him so he can hunt the coins in peace.
Azul carelessly tosses 500 madol (~5 USD) into the fountain. Ruggie wants it so badly he dives in and starts digging around wildly in the water for the coin. AND AZUL JUST KINDA STANDS THER E TAUNTING HIM LIKE, "OoOOoOoOoh you want that coin so badly, Ruggie, your body moved on instinct BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF, BE GREEDY, GET THAT COIN" (NOT AN ACTUAL TRANSLATION, but in the spirit of what Azul actually says).
I assume this is what the Ivorycliff Uniform Ruggie groovy depicts... Bro's tripping and having a cosmic experience all because he spotted A COUPLE DOLLARS.
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Nooot sure how to feel about this as a narrative device. On one hand, it's funny and definitely demonstrates Ruggie's shamelessness. On the other hand, I can see why some may see it as distasteful or humiliating because Ruggie is already so destitute irl and yet here they are using him scrounging around for a few dollars as comedic bit.
Mobs A and B return to check on him. Ruggie starts obsessing to them about how you can buy extra or fancy food like the shrimp gratin set for 500 madol!! Which confuses the mobs because all the food at Ivorycliff is free.
On instinct, Ruggie starts reciting what I assume is true of NRC: basic buffet foods are free, but extra foods are an extra cost… uniforms are free but if you ruin the first set then you need to pay for extra ones… etc. Ruggie points out that Ivorcliff uniforms are sucky anyway, with a light color like this, even a little bit of dirt stands out! Night Raven College uniforms are black, so it’s so convenient! Wooow, what a callback to book 2 💀 Ruggie complained about the RSA uniforms being hard to clean back then too…
We beat the mobs up~
Ruggie falls ot his knees and has a good little cry 😭 but then he recovers and says he’d better be paid a good hourly wage for all this trouble cnbdjssbjsks He agrees to join us because “Well, I wake up Leona-san every day so this is literally no different than my usual routine” though he also admits his success rate is like 60-70%.
dnensjsbahsjajw RUGGUE’S On MY shIT LIST TOO. HOW daRE HE… Bro says he’s going to wake up OUR king now, that he doesn’t want to follow a false king.. ARE YOU FR 💀 JE’S TAlKING AbOUT zbsvsjabskshFd;,,,/;~~\4!’ansnjahVb,dDDGfgGJjkJSDgabakaojrr a kKNBD gbmmkojnkFSAAQWVNmkoggDFFHvjkkp OTL
PAUSE TO STARE AT RUGGIE'S CRYING FACE BECAUSE WHAT THE HELL I FEEL LIKE I'M STARING AT A KICKED PUPPY
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And so…! They’re off!!
This update ends up Ruggie’s dream concluding. Next time (on the 29th), it’s time for us to wake up Leona!!
asdbkhlfbyofqeyg80eg8qegppf OKAY. I WAS NOT EXPECT THIS AMOUNT OF LEONA GLAZING IN THIS UPDATE 🤡 Like, GOOD LORD was there a lot of it... I sort of expected it in Jack's dream since he idolizes Leona, but I was not expecting it to come up in Ruggie's dream too. Even though it doesn't seem like Ruggie has met Leona in the universe of his own dream... the dream world still created lore about how Leona successfully graduated and made the decision to come back and better his country, especially for the destitute hyenas like himself 💀💀💀 WHICH JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT EVERYONE IN LEONA'S DORM RESPECTS HIM AND BELIEVES HE CAN LEAD THEM TO A BRIGHTER FUTURE IN THIS ESSAY I WILL--
ASDBKLHABIYOFAYFQEIBAF STFU ME, THIS UPDATE ISN'T ABOUT HIM.. .. . . . ....... . . . ... . .. . . . . . . LET'S TALK ABOUT JACK AND RUGGIE.
I think this update was one of the funnier ones by far. I'm on Grim's side, it was very unnerving to see a helpful, reliable Leona that plays by the rules and is a good sportsman... but at the same time, it's only to be expected of Jack. Since book 2, he's made it clear he looks up to his dorm leader and wants to be able to put his faith in him. It was nice to see everyone acknowledge how a Leona that doesn't hold back is a genuine threat and how this is the version of him that Jack wants to see realized. It's cute how Jack has this pure want to play with Leona and wants to see him as an idealized leader... Definitely puppy-coded behavior.
Something else I really appreciated about Jack's dream is the logic that went into waking him up. It was really a tag-team effort by Azul and Ortho and, unlike previous updates, I felt like the previous OB boy's presence was a Nothing addition to the cast and didn't contribute much. But Azul uses his smooth talking to convince dream!Leona to play against them, and then Ortho isolates Jack to knock some sense into him. I liked that Ortho, the robot, used cold, hard facts to reason his way to a situation where Jack was more likely to react with strong emotionality. Azul becomes useful again in Ruggie's dream, where he single-handedly wakes the guy up with some spare change he had on hand www
The exchange between Sebek and Jack was great, but I wish it had been extended... It feels like they added it to help with Sebek's character arc of overcoming prejuidice about non-fae, which is fine! But I think it should have been carried over into Ruggie's dream (in that section where they talk about different beastmen in the savanna). Like... it would tie together so well if Sebek had a moment of just "............." in indicate that he's thinking about what was just said, about how different beastmen, despite their differences, all originated in the same place. It would show us that he's slowly realizing, little by little, to accept non-fae.
I think Jack attacking us was an interesting beat to include, especially with all the theories swirling about how the Savanaclaw update will be the one to shake up the formula. Perhaps this is a preview of what's to come in Leona's section??? It proves Ortho's point that you're more likely to think and act with your emotions leading you rather than logic if you're already hyped about something. (In Jack's case, he was still coming off the caution and the high of beating back dream!Ruggie and Leona.)
I felt very similar to Jack in Ruggie's dream, doubting whether or not it was morally right to rip someone away from their happiness--especially considering all that Ruggie has gone through. Little guy was so devastated to find out the truth too... When I think about it, he's gone through so much tragedy in his life. His mom's dead, his dad left him, he grew up destitute and having to scrape by, he had to get LITERAL GARBAGE (depicted in the manga adaptation) to survive some days. It's no wonder why the people in his hometown call him their hero, it's a miracle that he lived this long and managed to get into a prestigious school. I think Ruggie's dream also highlights that he's not JUST greedy because he's greedy. Ruggie clearly cares about other people living well too (something alluded to early in book 4), because why else would Ivorycliffs casually offer free food to everyone and anyone? Why else would he spend tons of cash to buy his grandma stuff? He's thankful for what he has and wants to give back to the community that supported him. The supportive community is also generally reflected in his dream, specifically the market he passes on his way to school.
Ultimately, I do think it's for the best that Ruggie was roused awake because um... HEY, THE WORLD IS GOING TO END. Coming to that conclusion also speaks a lot about Jack's character: above all, he values honesty, even if the truth hurts. Excellent carry-over from book 2 (where he was the whistleblower), honestly.
One thing I wished they had expanded on was the relation of hyenas to other beastmen. It’s implied they are second class citizens, but it’s never clearly stated why that is other than “oh they live in a place that lions didn’t rule”. I would have liked more historical context for that discrimination; it would have helped to flesh out the world.
Overall, liked this update a lore more than the previous ones. I don’t know if I can still say this after the second part comes out (because I’ve usually had the most criticism for how the OB boys’ dreams ate handled), but so far I’m surprised by Jack and Ruggie (in a good way). Fingers crossed for the 29! 🤞
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nathaslosthershit · 9 months ago
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Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)
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Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.
“Alex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?”
“Well firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training we’ve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.” Logan replies.
It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat. 
Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Logan’s demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. “Yeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.”
“You both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.” Dammit, this interviewer really wasn’t going to let it go, Alex thought.
“Um yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.” Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didn’t exactly ask a question.
“I was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.” God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.
“Well Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New York” Alex teased.
“Ohhh, where did you go Logan?” the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Logan’s face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.
“Well actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasn’t too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isn’t with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.”
“Hey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been alone” Alex said, offended.
“Mate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.” Logan responded.
“But I still would have kept you company.” 
Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked “Girlfriend?”
The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasn’t looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.
“Uh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.” Logan answered, still blushing.
“Leave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.” Alex teased.
“Hey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while I’m from Florida, they are practically two different countries.”
“Yeah whatever.” Alex rolled his eyes playfully.
The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.
The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.
logansargeant
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liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others
logansargeant My favorite New Yorker 💙
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traveler-at-heart · 4 months ago
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Lessons of Love
Summary: So, Nerd!Natasha and Fem!R, their first date and everything fluffy. I just have a lot of thoughts about them and maybe this will be a series (and it will eventually contain G!P Natasha so if that's not your thing, you've been warned). Nerd!Natasha x Fem!Rogers Reader
Don’t count the days, make the days count.
Natasha’s father had told her that as if it was ancient wisdom and not a fortune cookie message.
It was also easier to say it when you didn’t have to attend high school. There were days when she couldn’t cope with it, like when the football team was agitated before a match, or there was some drama around the most popular people in school.
Those times were a stark reminder that Natasha had no one to talk to, a confidant to mock the jocks or a friend to share the gossip with.
Genius comes with a cost.
That one was her mom’s way of comforting Natasha.
She was the smartest person in school, miles above her peers. What she didn’t have in social intelligence, she more than made up with a sharp, quick and brilliant mind.
But as she entered the chem lab, and took a seat at the last table where she was always alone, Natasha wished that things could be different.
If only for a day.
“Morning, everyone” professor Fury greeted as people went to their seats. “You might have heard about an explosion during class” the few giggles that were heard were quickly silenced by Fury’s glare. “So, to keep this from happening again, we’ll switch the teams for the rest of the semester”
Natasha’s heart raced. What if people could choose and then she’d end up front of the class, everyone staring because no one picked her?
“So, alphabetically” Fury read the list, Natasha going over the name that was before hers…
Rogers.
She looked at you, sitting next to Wanda on one of the first tables. You waved at the twins when their names were called, laughing at Wanda’s annoyed stare. Being paired with her brother meant she’d do most of the work while he fooled around.
“Rogers and Romanoff”
Natasha saw you gathering your things and looking around. When you found her, a smile broke out and you walked to join her in the back of the room.
How does one greet the most popular girl in school? Head of cheerleaders, little sister of legendary quarterback Steve Rogers, not to mention the most beautiful girl in all of Shield High.
Not that Natasha was paying attention.
“Hey, Natty” you greeted, sitting next to her and looking around. “Wow, you can really see everything from here”
“I-I guess”
Natasha wanted to crawl under the table and hide. What was she supposed to talk about?
“Guess it’s my lucky day” you said, unable to deal with the silence. Natasha had a hard time understanding if you were being sarcastic. “I mean, you’re the capitan of the Science Club. So, that makes you the best partner anyone could hope for in Chemistry”
Natasha didn’t have time to answer, as Fury finally started with the lesson. Once he gave you all the instructions and wrote some exercises on the board, everyone went silent. Of course, Natasha was done in half the time.
“Show off” you teased and felt your heart beating faster when Natasha actually laughed.
“Want help?” she offered and you went over your notes, nodding.
“I think I got most of them except… this one?” you pointed with your pencil. Natasha leaned, reading again and pulling her chair closer to yours.
“You see, when you choose a coefficient, try to select one as low as possible”
“And that would affect all of the atoms in the molecule” you said and Natasha nodded. “Ok, I think I got it”
But the redhead kept staring as you began to write again, and you poked her side.
“Stop it, Romanoff”
You went back to work, missing the way Natasha blushed at the physical contact.
“Good. Now, I want you to get to know each other even better, so you’ll do a project for next class. Do not sass me, youths” Fury raised his voice as everyone began to protest.
“We’ve known each other our whole lives, can we skip this one?” Pietro said while pointing to his sister, and everyone laughed.
“No” Fury said, turning to write on the board again. “Do some research on why it’s important to balance chemical equations and what other parts of chemistry rely on this skill. Bonus points for concrete examples where it helped advance important research on other fields”
He dismissed the class, and everyone began to pack their bags to move to the next session.
“So… uh… how do you wanna do this? Wanna meet somewhere?” Natasha said, unfamiliar with team projects. Teachers would let her work alone, because pairing her with someone meant she’d do all the work and split the credit.
“Yeah, not my place though. The boys have their weekly pool game after football practice and they can get so loud” you rolled your eyes, walking out of the classroom next to the girl.
Natasha’s stomach turned at the idea of being anywhere near the school jocks.
“So, the school library?” you offered, giving her a way out in case her house was off limits.
“I think my mom has more books about it than the library”
Damn it, where did that come from? She couldn’t handle a class with you and now she was suggesting her place? Where would you even work? And Melina would make some embarrassing remark, or Alexei would ask a million questions and say something silly…
“Yeah, cool. I’ll stop by after cheerleading practice”
“Let me give you the address”
“Natty, I know where you live” you chuckled, surprised that she seemed surprised. “Remember your birthday party? I was there”
“That was like seven years ago”
“Yeah, so? I remember” you smiled. “Gotta run, see you later”
Natasha stared as you walked to History class. You turned around one last time, smiling shyly and waving at her.
Natasha waved back, her cheeks turning red at being caught staring.
Crap, she wasn’t going to survive this assignment.
You went up the steps, fixing your hair before ringing the doorbell.
God, how were you going to manage this afternoon with Natasha? You were barely able to keep it together during class.
You were still torn on how to manage your fight or flight response when the door opened.
“Y/N!” Natasha’s sister practically shouted your name.
“Hey, Yelena. I’m here to…”
“You know my name” the girl said.
“Well, yeah, you’re Nat’s sister”
Speak of the devil.
“Yelena!” Natasha went down the stairs in record time.
“What?” Yelena said, talking back as soon as Natasha switched to Russian. They went back and forth for a while, and you stood outside, wondering if you’d ever manage to get in.
“Sorry about that” Nat finally turned to you, Yelena leaving the room in a rush.
“No worries. I couldn’t understand you. Literally”
“My room’s this way” Natasha said, scratching the back of her neck.
A second later, she regretted letting you go up the stairs first. Your skirt moved with each step you took, toned legs in full display. Natasha had to pray she wouldn’t trip on the way up.
“Which door?” you turned to look at her, her ears red. You bit your lip, trying not to think how adorable she looked all flustered.
“The one on the right” she pointed and you nodded, waiting for her to tell you it was ok to open it.
“Wow” you said, looking around at the shelves full of books and scale models of different machines.
“You can take the chair if you want” Natasha offered her desk, and you were so busy reading the titles of the books you almost didn’t hear her.
“Oh, that’s ok. I can sit on the bed” you said, placing your backpack in the corner. You pulled out your laptop and opened a new tab. “I was thinking we can get all the info we need, and then decide how to organize it. I’ll write a draft and you can review it”
It was Natasha’s turn to be distracted, appreciating the way you leaned against her headboard, stretching your arms above your head.
“I-I got some books from my mom’s study.  Let me find the right one…” she sat on the floor and you laid on your stomach, your heads at the same height as you looked over her shoulder.
Natasha began reading and taking notes, while you reviewed some articles on your laptop.
“Ready”
“Ok” you said, changing to sit next to her on the floor. Natasha felt your shoulder against her arm, and your sweet parfume invaded her senses.
You always smelled good. And looked so pretty. It was hard to focus but she managed just enough to dictate some of the things she’d found useful.
“You don’t have to write this down, but let me know if you think any of it is interesting for the paper” she said, and you really wanted to pay attention, but your eyes kept drifting to her lips. “Y/N?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, I’m boring you” Natasha said, closing the book and looking dejected. She was about to put it away when you reached for her hand, sitting up.
“Now hold on. You weren’t boring me”
“It’s ok”
“Nat, look at me” you asked. The redhead seemed to forget you had moved closer when you reached for her hand, and when she turned to look at you, you were inches apart.
“I…”
Was she looking at your lips? Were you leaning forward? Did she want this?
You didn’t have time to find out, as the door to Natasha’s room opened and you jumped back.
“Oh! Yelena was telling the truth”
“Hi, Mrs. Romanoff” you greeted, hoping she didn’t notice your cheeks turning pink.
“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Why are you sitting on the floor? Natalia, where are your manners?”
“Mom”
“No, that’s ok. I prefer the floor. Your hydrengias are looking spectacular, by the way” you tried to change the subject.
“Thanks to you! You were right about the change of place. Oh, I should have sent you a plate of cookies, you helped me with it and I didn’t even thank you”
“That’s ok, Mrs. Romanoff”
“Well if you want to stay for dinner, you’re more than welcomed” Melina turned to her daughter, with a more serious demeanor. “And you, remember to put those books right where they belong. I have a very particular system”
“Yes, Ma’am” 
“So…”
“I…”
You both spoke at the same time. 
“Sorry” you tried to breathe, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “You were saying?”
“I didn’t know you spoke to my mom about flowers?”
“Oh, that” you blushed and Natasha bit her lip, drinking in every word you said. “Yeah, Mom and I ran into her at the farmer’s market. They were talking about plants and we gave her some tips. That’s how we spend quality time, working on the garden”
Natasha nodded, but you still stared at her.
“Can I ask you something?” you said, looking at her lips. Natasha swallowed and nodded. “I… uh… why was Yelena acting weird when she saw me?”
That’s not what you meant to ask, but you had lost your courage.
“Oh…” the redhead looked disappointed. Or were you imagining things? “She’s obsessed with joining the cheerleading squad, and you being the President…”
“I’m not, anymore” you blurted out, surprising even yourself. “I mean, I’m still on the team… but I thought Pepper would do a better job” 
“But they won the Nationals last year because of you” Natasha protested, and you were taken aback by her sudden rage. “There’s no one better than you”
“That’s really sweet, Nat” you placed your hand on hers. “But it’s for the best. Trust me. I’ll have more time to focus on the school paper or… I don’t know, dating?”
“I guess you could do that…” Natasha said, looking at your hands. For the second time in the day, your eyes found hers and then traveled to those beautiful lips.
“Y/N!” 
Bucky shouted from the door. Damn it.
“My ride’s here” you said, disappointed. Natasha nodded, standing up and offering her hand to help you up. You took it, surprised at her strength. 
A gasp left your lips when you were face to face, inches away from her lips. All you had to do was step forward and stand on your toes…
“Y/N/N” Bucky insisted and you had to control the urge to tell him to go to hell.
“Sorry. I have enough notes to write something. Can I text you once it’s done?”
“Sure, let me give you my number”
“I already have it…” you blurted out, trying to hide your face.
“How?”
Now, this time you were grateful for Bucky’s insistence. 
“Coming, Buck! See you later?” 
“Yeah. I’ll walk you out” 
You nodded, allowing Natasha to lead you to the front door. Her father, coach Romanoff, was chatting with Bucky at the door.
“Good practice today” Alexei said and Bucky nodded.
“Thanks, coach” he then turned to you, offering his hand to get your bag. “Ready to go, doll?”
“Yeah. Thanks for having me, Nat. Say bye to your mom and Yelena for me?” 
“Sure”
An uncomfortable feeling took over Natasha as you walked next to Bucky, watching him take your bag and carry it for you. You laughed at something he said while he opened the car door for you and then drove away.
“They make a cute couple, don’t they?” Alexei said, but Natasha shrugged her shoulders and went back to her room, almost knocking Melina over on the way up the stairs. “Did I say something wrong?”
Natasha felt weird doing it, but she couldn’t help herself. 
She only opened an Instagram account to watch cool science videos. But she knew your username because Yelena followed you and now, she was acting like a creep, looking at your profile.
In search of what? She wasn’t sure. Maybe proof that you were dating Barnes.
“Hey” Yelena walked into her room and Natasha dropped her phone. “Ew, were you watching porn?”
“What? No! What do you want?” Natasha said, the blush in her cheeks only making her seem guilty.
“Well, just wanted to ask you if Y/N mentioned anything about this year’s tryouts?”
“No, we didn’t really talk about… that”
Natasha didn’t mention the conversation you had about stepping down as president. She had a feeling that was private.
“Ok, go back to watching porn” Yelena said, closing the door before Natasha could throw a pillow her way.
Then, her phone pinged and Natasha looked at it as if it was a cursed object. 
Unknown number: Hey, Nat. I have a draft ready. Lmk if I can send it to you
Natasha: Hi. Sure thing, I’m not doing anything
Damn it, way to be a loser, Natasha. 
She didn’t even wait a few minutes to reply.
Y/N: Ok, should be on your email now.
Natasha: Thnx, reading now.
Y/N: Gotta get ready for dinner. It was nice seeing you today.
Y/N: Outside of school, I mean.
Y/N: So… yeah. Anyway. I’m being weird, haha. Talk soon. 
Y/N: XO
Natasha’s heartbeat sped up with every new text. She caught herself reading them over and over again.
She didn’t have time to worry about what to reply, because her mother came knocking.
“Dinner’s ready. You can take your time… Yelena told me you were busy.”
“Oh, my GOD!” Natasha jumped out of bed, opening the door. “I am not… watching porn!”
“She said you were stalking Y/N’s instagram” Melina said, turning to find her youngest daughter holding a laugh.
“сука” Natasha screamed, running after her.
“Papa, help!” Yelena screeched, going down the stairs. 
“Language! And no running inside the house!” 
Melina sighed. With the way Natasha was looking at you today, she had a feeling that parenting was going to be even more complicated now.
--
Throughout the week, you never left Natasha’s mind. It was a strange feeling. She’d never dwelled on social interactions that much, thinking it wasn’t worth her time. 
But still, when Friday came, she was excited because you shared English class as well. 
And there you were, leaning against the door, speaking to Barnes. Again. Natasha sighed, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her stomach at the way you laughed with him, smacking his arm playfully.
As usual, the redhead kept her head down and went to the last table of the classroom, where she could be left alone. Only, you walked straight to her as soon as Professor Harkness started the lesson.
“Hey” you greeted, sitting next to Natasha. 
“H-hi”
“Sorry, do you want me to find another place to sit?” you said, looking around the room. 
“No!” Natasha practically shouted, making you flinch. “I’m sorry. No, you can sit here”
You nodded, occupying the chair next to hers. It was going to be a slow day, as Ms. Harkness set up the projector to show a documentary about Patricia Highsmith. 
“You have to write a report about this so pay attention” the professor said, taking a seat to start the film.
While the documentary played, your mind kept drifting back to Natasha, sitting a few inches away from you. Truth be told, you had always found her to be beautiful, intriguing… but after spending an afternoon with her, those moments when you touched hands or locked eyes, kept replaying in your head. 
Instead of taking notes, you decided to execute a plan that was saved for the next Chemistry lesson. Drawing on a sheet of paper, you created a game of hangman, double checking the number of letters for each of the three words. 
Without looking at Natasha, you pushed the sheet her way. She looked at it for a second too long, and then at you. You were beginning to regret the whole thing, and then she underlined the letter T. You smiled, writing on the designated place.
Natasha took her time analyzing the sheet, but by the time the lesson was over, she had guessed some of the letters.
_o_i_   o_   _ _ tur _ _ y ?
The bell rang, and as the lights were turned back on, you looked at her, smiling nervously. 
“So… want me to tell you what it says? Or, you can take the sheet and text me if you figure it out?” 
God, you sounded so desperate. No wonder Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head. 
“I’ll take it” she smiled, placing it between her notebook and walking out.
“Actually, Nat…” you went after her. Why not just ask straight away and see what happened?
“Yes?” she said, turning to look at you. Truth be told, she was anxious to get out. Your proximity had distracted her during the entire class. And it only got worse when you slid that sheet her way, and she saw the way you were biting your lip nervously.
She had to force herself to look away from your lips. 
“I was thinking, if you’re not too busy…”
“Go on a date with me”
You were both taken aback by the interruption. The words were stolen right out of your mouth by a junior student, Peter Parker. He was staring at Natasha excitedly. 
“Never mind” you grumbled, rolling your eyes and walking away. 
Natasha flashed an angry glare at Peter, but you were walking down the hallway at record speed.
“What is wrong with you?” Natasha said. Peter was a year younger, but knew the redhead from science club. 
“Sorry, it’s just that I… those were the words that came out of my mouth to ask MJ out. MJ! And she said yes!”
“Yeah, start with that next time” 
Natasha spotted you across the hall, talking to Thor. Of course. 
“I have to go” Natasha pushed the boy aside.
She was so distracted, she never noticed where she was going until she opened the door to the computer room, where Barnes was making out with another senior, Sharon Carter. 
“Knock, damn it” Barnes said, but Sharon smacked his arm, looking stern.
“Don’t be a dick, James”
Natasha wanted to call Barnes a lot more than a dick, because who on their right mind would cheat on you? She stared at him a second longer, too angry to even speak, and then turned around, shutting the door behind her. 
You deserved so much better than Barnes. 
Y/N: Were you able to figure it out?
Natasha kept staring at her phone. She hadn’t replied to your message since yesterday and the longer she waited, the worse she felt.
Should she tell you about Barnes? Would you believe her? Or would you call her the worst name in the book and refuse to be in the same class as her? 
The girl was pacing around in her room, but of course Yelena chose that moment to play her music at full volume. Natasha let out an exasperated sigh, going to her sister’s room.
“Turn it down!” she yelled from outside, knocking several times to get Yelena’s attention. “Yelena? Your music is too damn…” let the record show she had tried to knock. Natasha walked into Yelena’s room without permission, ready to get into a screaming match with her sister. What she didn’t expect was to see you sitting on her bed, while Yelena showed you different things on her closet.
“I told you it was very loud, Yel” you said, smiling at the girl and then at Natasha, who took a step forward to shut the music down. “Hey, sorry about the noise”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to come in, sestra” Yelena said, examining a t-shirt and her favorite vest. She turned to you. “What about this?” 
“Yeah, that’s better. And hair braided, don’t forget that. Pepper and all the other girls love braids. I think the ones Natasha wears sometimes are really… uh, pretty”
You didn’t mean to sound like a creep, but of course you had noticed Natasha’s fiery hair braided from time to time. 
“So, since you’re standing there and made me turn off my music” Yelena turned to her sister, showing the outfit. “What do you think? Tryouts are on Monday and Y/N is helping me pick an outfit”
“That one’s nice” Natasha nodded, trying to avoid your stare. She thought she had today and tomorrow to figure out what to do over Barnes. But what if you came to talk to her and she just blurted the whole thing out?
So, she excused herself and thought it would be better to hide in her room. Peace didn’t last long, though.
“Knock!” Natasha grumbled when her sister got in. 
“Hey, you didn’t knock either just now. I wanted to ask if you got the tickets for the movie”
“Yes, of course I did”
“Good. I can’t go with you, so you should take Y/N”
“Wait, what?” Natasha hissed, trying to not lose it at Yelena’s ridiculous antics. “You can’t just cancel like that and she probably doesn’t even want to…”
“Ask her” 
“What?”
“Ask her. Or if you’re too afraid, I can do it for you. But honestly, Natalia. Just do it. You’re both driving me crazy”
Natasha didn’t know what Yelena meant by that, so she just rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I’ll ask her, I don’t want it to seem like my little sister has to arrange my outings”
“Fine. I’m getting some water, you should do it now. Don’t pass out” Yelena winked, knowing her sister could barely handle social interactions.
 Natasha felt her heartbeat strong in her chest, but didn’t wait too long before going back to Yelena’s room. She knew her sister meant it and would absolutely ask you out on Nat’s behalf.
“Hey, Y/N” she walked into the room, door ajar.
“Hey. What’s up? Want to try on outfits with us?” you joked. In spite of her nerves, Natasha smiled.
“I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the movies”
“Really?” you smiled. “What time?”
“It starts in an hour so… we can leave in thirty minutes if it works for you”
“Yeah. Awesome”
You didn’t think about asking which movie or anything else really. The fact Natasha had asked you was all you cared about. The redhead left the room once her sister came back, trying to hide her anxiety. Yelena gave her a knowing look, and kept chatting with you but wasn’t surprised to find you smiling out of nowhere, distracted and constantly checking your watch.
Once it was time to go, Natasha waited downstairs to drive you both to the movies. The ride there was quiet at first, until you reached out for the radio.
“Very cool” you praised when OK Go came on. “Their best music video is for I won’t let you down”
“What? No way! This too shall pass. That Rube Goldberg machine was insane”
“But what about all the extras and the umbrellas? Imagine the coordination it took. I tried to talk the girls into doing it for Nationals but they said I was insane”
Natasha laughed at that, humming along to the song, feeling more relaxed. You also smiled, and enjoyed watching her drive. She looked hot as she held the wheel. 
As you were arriving to the theater, you mentioned Barnes and how he always forgot to get the tickets and once again, Natasha’s anxiety came back. 
She was quiet as she parked and you both exited the car. 
“Wait. I’m sorry. I can’t do this” 
“Do what? What’s wrong?” you looked at her, searching her eyes. 
“Please don’t hate me” she pleaded.
“Natty, I could never” you shook your head, the term of endearment almost leaving Nat out of breath. 
“I saw… Barnes and Sharon Carter kissing in the computer room. I’m sorry”
“Ew. Yeah, they tend to do that anywhere they can. I’m the one who’s sorry you had to see it” you laughed, but the sound died down when Natasha looked at you as if you had grown a second head.
“Aren’t you dating Barnes?” she said, trying to understand everything.
“What? Gross. He’s like my other brother. Slightly less annoying than Steve, that’s for sure” 
“You’re serious?” Natasha said, feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“I’m very serious and very much single… waiting for a pretty girl to come sweep me off my feet” you said, smiling as Natasha blushed. You took her hand, going inside the theater. “Come on, the movie is starting soon”
You waited in line for the candy store, her hand still in yours. Once it was time to get your stuff, you stood behind her, looking over her shoulder by standing on your toes. Natasha blushed at the contact, your chin resting against her shoulder while you asked the clerk for some chocolate.
“Let me” Natasha said, paying before you could give the man money. 
“Chivalry isn’t dead” you said, enjoying how much she was blushing. You smiled, helping her with the soda and finally going inside the room. 
“So, what are we watching?”
“It’s this new zombie movie, like found footage”
“Oh, cool” you muttered, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty. 
“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you were ok with that”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just a bit of a chicken” you laughed, settling in your seat. You hoped Natasha didn’t think you were lame and as the movie started, you really did try to be brave. And then a zombie came jumping through a window and you hid your face behind your hands. 
“Hey, it’s ok” Natasha took your hand. “We can leave if you want to” 
“No, I’m fine” you said, forgetting about the movie as soon as her hand let go of yours, arm going around your shoulders to comfort you. 
No way were you leaving now.
You leaned against her chest, hiding when something scary was about to happen. Natasha held you close, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing manner. 
Who knew all it took was some scary zombies to get close to her…
The movie didn’t last as long as you’d have liked, but still, you were happy when she kept holding on to your hand as you left the cinema.
“That was fun” you commented and Natasha let out a laugh. “What?”
“You were hiding half the movie”
“Maybe I liked that part the most” you challenged, pleased when she blushed again. “But next time, we’re watching a rom com or a sci-fi movie.”
“I’d like that” Natasha said and you were looking at her lips when your phone rang. “Want a ride home?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”
“It’s not a problem. Come on” she walked next to you, opening the car door. 
“What else do you listen to?” you played with the radio, going from A-Punk, to Keane and Travis. “Really good taste”
“What about you?”
“Anything really. I have like 45 playlists that are completely random. I could send you one if you’d like” 
“Yeah, I’d like that” Natasha nodded. You smiled, enjoying the view (and by view you meant Natasha, her fingers tapping against the wheel) for the rest of the ride. 
Once you got home, she opened the car door for you again. You didn’t move from your spot next to her, enjoying the proximity.
“Nat?”
“Yes?”
“I like you” you said without a warning, and it was hard to tell who was more embarrassed, you or Nat. “I’m sorry for being so forward but I think I needed you to know. I’m thinking about kissing you and holding your hand and…”
For the first time in her life, Natasha did something without thinking. She pulled you by the waist, connecting her lips to yours. You groaned in surprise, but sighed against her mouth a second later. Your hands went up her neck, to keep her close to you as you moved your lips against hers.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”
“Never apologize for doing that” you smiled, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. Natasha smiled, kissing your temple. “Are you good to drive?”
“Yeah” she nodded.
“Ok. I don’t want you to do it if you’re distracted or something. It could be dangerous, you know?” you rambled and Natasha saw genuine concern behind your words.
“I’ll text you when I’m home, how about that?”
“Yes, please” you sighed with relief. “Be careful. And thank you for today” without being able to help yourself, you stood on your toes and pecked her lips one more time.
Natasha got in the car, smiling as she drove back home. True to her promise, she texted you as soon as she arrived. 
She was expecting Yelena to greet her with a million questions, but the girl was back in her room, still listening to music.
Going back to her own room, she found the game of hangman you had done for her, now complete with Yelena’s handwriting.
Natasha was really clueless.
Movie on Saturday?
This whole time, you were asking her out. Natasha took a picture of the paper and sent it to her sister.
Nat: You went through my stuff.
Sestra: Ur welcome.
Natasha would never hear the end of it. Her phone pinged again.
Y/N: Glad you’re home safe. 
Y/N: Still thinking about that kiss.
Y/N: So… yeah. When’s our second date?
Coming to think of it, she was happy to pay that price. 
597 notes · View notes
christianbalesblueadidas · 2 months ago
Note
I have a prompt 🙋‍♀️👀 (a rlly long one). reader thinking noticing how Bruce always disappears/makes an excuse to leave at night (like on dates, events, or maybe while getting freaky (👀) he suddenly just gets up and goes like “oh sorry smth came up”) and he can never give a convincing enough excuse so she starts getting distant and cold coz she thinks he’s not rlly serious in the relationship and Bruce notices this and feels rlly bad but the reader only finds out why after she had to get rescued by him……. So yeah there’s my prompt yay!!!
I'm Sorry, Sweetheart
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bruce wayne x f!reader
your boyfriend seems to hate being around you. it's time to give him a taste of his own medicine.
warnings: NSFW, minors DNI (18+), some smut in the middle, kidnapping, graphic language
word count: 3.4k
a/n: thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice.
Bruce Wayne is singlehandedly the most infuriating man you’ve ever dated.
Every week, you know him a bit more. Little by little, you get to know him — soul, mind, and body — more and more every time you meet. And it’s not the cute “let’s take this slow” type of getting to know each other. It’s the irritating kind, where you get to know more about him and his world and he suddenly takes it away from your hands.
Your first date goes smoothly enough, setting an expectation he can never reach since. Despite it being the bare minimum, you are happy he is there the entire time, physically and mentally. He never once looked at his cellular phone or his watch or a random clock in the room. It is just you and him and the company you share together.
On the second date, he starts off completely interested and later into the night, he inexplicably turns distracted — and almost anxious. He picks up his phone and says he has a call to make, he disappears into the corner of the room, then comes back to your table and tells you he has somewhere to go. Wayne Enterprises business. Ignoring your barely hidden disappointment and offense, you nod with a smile and tell him, “It’s alright, Bruce.”
Of course, he notices your hurt expression when he leaves. Even if you manage to hide your emotions well, Bruce is trained to notice it. To make up for that mistake, he invites you to a fundraising party. Frankly, it’s out of your league, but you can never pass up an opportunity to be with Bruce and to finally experience a fancy party.
Contrary to your expectations, it’s the most boring party you’ve ever been in, full of snooty millionaires and social climbers. You don’t know how Bruce endures this. You’ve read about and saw the models he brings — multiple at a time too — to his parties and you’re guessing that’s how. You push away the thought, not sure whether to be insecure that you can’t measure up to his models and actresses or whether to be proud that he chose you and only you to be his date tonight.
You stand in the far corner of the large ballroom at the top of his penthouse, subtly avoiding Bruce’s “friends” and thinking about him. And speaking of the devil, his arm snakes its way around your waist from behind. Despite him being so close and having his arm around your middle, his hand is flat and open, careful not to hold you in a way you won’t like.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Bruce whispers to your ear and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You roll your eyes in amusement and turn your head to face his. Your breath hitches — a bit too obviously and embarrassingly so — as you realize that you’re so close to him. However, you quickly recover and reply, “Isn’t that line a bit too overdone for you, Bruce?”
He shrugs a shoulder playfully, his full glass of champagne sloshing in the flute.
“It always works,” he says. “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. But how about I try another line?”
With a charming smile that makes you weak in the knees, his open palm grips your hip, just right above the curve of your backside. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and his grip hesitant, almost like he isn’t very sure of himself or of something else. Nevertheless, you’ll fall for his charm anytime.
“You wanna get out of here?”
That single question brings you to his bedroom, which is almost the entire floor if it weren’t for the foyer to give him privacy from the elevator. You’ve never seen a bedroom quite like it. Floor-to-ceiling windows that display a view of Gotham, frosted glass panes around his bed for some semblance of privacy, and a sitting area beside it that looks over the city. It’s an apartment without a kitchen, which you’d be more astonished about if your breath weren’t taken away by Bruce’s slow kisses on your lips and your neck.
He has you on your back on the bed, silky taupe sheets like clouds under you. He hovers over you, his entire figure taking over your vision, his muscles hidden by a black Giorgio Armani suit and gray tie. His lips and tongue move languidly against yours like he has all the time in the world. He holds himself up by a hand beside your head and the other presses your thigh against his hip. His hand idly runs up and down under your dress, but never quite reaches anywhere near where you need him the most.
“Bruce, plea—“
You’re interrupted by his phone on the nightstand. Your head whips to the side, glaring at the screeching machine. Who the hell is calling during this time of night? Well, perhaps that’s what you get for dating a billionaire. Rich people are always eccentric.
He suddenly stiffens up and gets off you. A pang of hurt in your heart rings as you notice how quickly he gets up like he got burnt. Your brows furrow, confused and a bit offended.
“Who is that?” you ask and you can’t help the way you sound so jealous. You’re aware of the fact that you shouldn’t be — not yet — but the fact that you’re in his bed is making you more sensitive about your feelings for him.
“Uh,” he reaches for his phone. He looks at the screen. “It’s Lucius Fox.” Lie. “I have to take this. I’m sorry.”
He disappears into the bathroom to apparently take his call. In fact, it is just an alarm set with a ringtone to sound like a phone call. He feels especially bad about using you as an alibi, but his usual strategy to get out of parties that stretch on too late involve his dates.
Due to his playboy image, nobody questions when he leaves too early. He rarely sleeps with the women he invites to parties, and if he doesn’t, they never tell anyway because it hurts their pride to say that Bruce Wayne didn’t sleep with them. It never hurt him either. You, however, are different. He wishes he doesn’t have to use you.
He emerges out the bathroom with a regretful look on his face. You don’t know how much it also hurts for him to make you leave.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll have Alfred drive you home.”
“What is it?”
“Oh, it’s just work. But it’s urgent,” he replies and he almost winces at how uncharacteristically bad he is at lying to you.
“Oh, of course. It’s alright, Bruce.”
This time, you don’t hide your disappointment.
He tries his best to not abandon you every time you see each other. He scoots your meetups an hour or so earlier because Batman can’t adjust, not even for you. Then, he texts and calls you whenever he’s free and awake, giving you random updates that he doesn’t know make your day. His efforts reassure you eventually, and you’re no longer mad at his odd tendency to leave you so suddenly in the middle of the night or when it nears twelve. Now that you’re both content with how often you see each other and how often your nights don’t get interrupted, you’re both happy.
One day, you surprise him at his penthouse after work. It’s a random visit, to be frank, and you just wanted to watch television or do anything boring with him after you eat the dinner you have brought. What you don’t expect is that you’ll be on your back on his couch, stuffed full of his cock as the TV plays in the background, neither of you interested to watch it. No dinner yet either, but he's enough to make you full and wanting more.
Airy moans leave your lips as he thrusts into you, holding onto his broad shoulders by bunching up the fabric of his expensive shirt in clenched fists. It has never occurred to you that you’ve never seen him without his shirt off even during sex. You’ve always been too distracted to care.
Too distracted like right now. The stretch of him in your cunt is delicious, satiating your appetite in ways that no food or other pleasure could. His pelvis rubs against your clit and you cry out every time his tip hits that spot in you while your bundle of nerves grind against his firm body. With every grind of hips, you reach new heights on your way to orgasm.
Bruce is a sight to behold. His eyes half-lidded mouth parted, moans spill from his wet lips. His chocolate brown hair a mess on his head, a product of your hands mussing them up earlier while making out. His muscled chest heaves, pressing against your softer one when he inhales. When your eyes aren't rolling back, you love staring at him above you.
“I— 'm close,” you manage to mumble out despite being so cock drunk.
"Me too, sweetheart," he growls out, a lower register that sounds unfamiliar and familiar at the same time, considering that you've only heard this tone from him during intimacy.
Bruce has one ear for you and the other for the TV, even when he's already nearing climax. The television is now apparently showing the news. The reporter says something about a bank robbery organized by the Joker and—
His hips thrust roughly into yours out of instinct, shocking you and making you moan even louder. He doesn't go faster, knowing it doesn't quicken the job. He takes your legs by the crook of your knees and presses your thighs to your torso, essentially folding you into a position you never knew you can do. You let go of his shirt and tangle your hands into his already-messy hair. With this new angle, his cock reaches deeper inside of you.
"Bruce," you moan out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh, fuck."
You don't know that he's trying very hard to make this good for you while letting him have time to take care of the bank robbery. He doesn't want to leave you in the dust again, mostly because it'll be an asshole move and because you're both on the verge of orgasm and a hard-on isn't something to bring to a fight.
More importantly for him, he doesn't want to leave you hanging. He can't express his thoughts and feelings very well other than through gifts and sex, so he wants to show you how much he adores you, especially that he's leaving you again. He knows it isn't enough, but it's all he can do for now.
He leans his head down to kiss you, sloppy and all tongues. While you're distracted by his mouth and his cock, he reaches a hand down and rubs circles on your clit while he thrusts in and out of you.
He proudly watches as you unravel underneath him, masterfully played by him like an instrument made only for him. Your toes curl in the air as you stiffen up and relax. He swallows your moans with his kisses, eagerly drinking in your pretty noises. He helps you ride it out like the gentleman he is, still moving in and out of your pussy.
He follows suit, coming deep inside you and painting your walls white. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack.
He internally curses when he realizes he didn't have a condom on and he's only lucky that you told him before you take birth control — and that you even allowed him to come in you. But still, he curses at his lapse of sensibility.
You come down from your high. Bruce is counting down the seconds and the minutes. He needs to be out of here as soon as possible to deal with the Joker. He slowly pulls out of you, come dripping down your flesh mixed with your wetness. But you can't even bask in the afterglow because of his urgent task.
"You alright, darling?" he asks breathlessly. He looks you up and down, surveying you.
You can only nod and hum in affirmation. Eyes half-lidded and gaze trained on him in a daze.
"You don't mind if I have to go now? Something came up."
Oh, how you hate that. Why does something always come up when you're in the middle of something?
"It's alright, Bruce."
That evening, Batman is too late to catch the Joker. When he gets there, he was already in his getaway car. He pursues him, leading to a high-speed chase around the city. However, the Joker has traps ready on the way. He should've known that he'd anticipate his presence.
Bruce comes home to you weary and frustrated. He takes it out on you, inexplicably being rougher than usual for your round two. You take it, enjoying it anyway. But still, something lingers in the back of your mind, a thought rearing its ugly head since the time he left — maybe even since a few months ago.
Is he not taking your relationship seriously? You should've guessed he wouldn't, you think, considering he does have a reputation. But you're optimistic enough to have thought that perhaps his reputation is mostly the work of the media. Even then, you can't deny the photos and videos you've seen of him. Perhaps it's true. He doesn't value you as much as you value him.
You don't talk to him since that day. You don't outright avoid him but when he doesn't reach out, you don't either.
He notices you distancing yourself from him. He figures that maybe you need some space, which is one of the worst decisions he can ever do when it comes to this situation. He has never been good with relationships.
It further upsets you. In your mind, he doesn't even care when you stop approaching him. He doesn't care that you're not seeing each other or even talking to each other much. He's only there if you want him first.
To Bruce, it's fine that you need space. It's fine that he doesn't get to see you as much as he wants to — at least, that's what he tells himself. Batman feels differently. His punches hit harder, the bruises he leaves much darker. Even though no one else knows about you and him, Gotham knows there's something upsetting the Bat more than usual.
He thinks about telling you his secret but that involves putting you in possible danger. No one else can know he is Batman. Not even you, not even if he cares for you so much. He'd rather distance form between you than tell you. He's got eyes on you, anyway.
You don't know how to go about this. It seems too presumptuous to barge into his penthouse. You're obviously not on that level of relationship to do so. A call is too impersonal. So, you don't go about it at all. You have never been good at communication.
You spend days constantly on the verge of tears, bottling up every drop of frustration you've felt ever since Bruce started acting suspicious around you. When you're at work, you stifle the urge to cry. When you're at home, you hold yourself back from calling him — and then cry. It's a vicious cycle and it hurts even more than when he leaves you.
Sighing, you insert the key into your car, more than ready to drive home after work. Suddenly, strong hands grab you into a beat-up black SUV parked nearby. You scream and flail, but nobody is around to help, or maybe they're too unbothered and selfish to care. This is Gotham after all; these things happen every day.
You can't see or speak, blindfolded and a duct tape covering your mouth. You can only hear what the kidnappers are talking about as they drive you to an unknown location. It's an isolatory experience and how you wish you were actually alone instead of tied up and blindfolded. Tears wet the bandana tied around your head as you quietly cry.
"Wayne would pay so much money to get that back."
"Would he? He has a new bitch every week."
"Lucky fucker."
"Hope not too lucky. I wanna get at least a mill from this bitch."
A loud bang from the roof of the car startles all of you. The driver slams the brakes, flinging you to the back of the front seat, a cry of pain ripping from your throat.
"Shit! It's Batman!"
"Fuck! I told you we shouldn't mess with Wayne! He has him in his payroll!"
The doors of the SUV open and the kidnappers hit you on the way as they rush out. You hear scuffling and punching and metal banging on metal and bones breaking. A sob escapes you despite you trying to keep your resolve.
"Don't let me see you again," a voice growls out. Then, what seems to be a body slams onto the side of the car.
Wait, that voice sounds familiar...
A rough material brushes your skin as — you assume — Batman rips off the tape on your mouth. A gasp leaves you, heaving in a deep breath. You hear metal ripping fabric and you can see again. You blink through your tears, adjusting to the light, which isn't much as you're in a lonely road in the middle of the night. Eventually, your limbs are free too, but you're still too weak to stand or walk.
Black surrounds his eyes due to his cowl and, with his armor and cape, he is completely shrouded in darkness. But you'd know those eyes anywhere. You'd know those lips anywhere. He can't hide even in darkness, his own domain.
"Bruce," you breathe out in relief.
Surprising him, you wrap your arms around his armored neck, pulling him close to you in an embrace. It's not the warmest nor most comfortable hug in the world, but the fact that it is him is what matters.
His eyes widen. How did you guess it was him so easily? Nevertheless, without missing a beat, his arms wrap around you protectively. His muscular form and dark cape warm you up and shield you from the world. He is relieved that his tracker works and alerted him at the right time. You're safe in his arms now.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, holding back another sob. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, the armor pressing onto your cheek.
Now, you understand. You understand all his sudden leaving, the odd hours he replies to your texts, his persistent drowsiness, and the random bruises. You feel like an ass for being cold towards him when he's risking his life every night for the city. Not to say that you like the idea of your boyfriend running around beating up criminals during the night, but the fact that he is so selfless while you aren't makes you feel terrible.
"No... I should be the one who's sorry," he says and there's a sense of hesitancy in it, like he has never said those words before in that order. Still, you detect his sincerity and accept it.
In a moment of impulse, you pull away from the hug only to rest your hands on his covered cheeks and to press your lips against his. You tilt your head, the hard nose of his cowl pressing against your cheek. The pain goes unnoticed, your mind more preoccupied with how much you've missed his lips on yours.
As his tongue runs through the seam of your lips, coaxing it open, he pulls away as though he remembers where you are. Almost to placate you for the loss of contact, he runs a hand down your hair, petting you like a doll, a faint smile on his lips. It's a peculiar sight seeing the Batman with an expression other than stony emotionlessness or rage. The fact that you're the reason why makes the butterflies in your belly flutter even quicker. It makes you feel special.
"I'm bringing you home. I'll be there when the sun rises."
For the first time, you're not dejected nor disappointed unlike the other times you've uttered those words as you reply with a small grin tugging at your lips.
"Alright, Bruce."
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babygorewhore · 9 days ago
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You can be just friends…right?
Best friend Rafe Cameron x alt!fem reader!
Being polar opposites of Rafe Cameron at first you clashed but eventually, you became close. After driving you to his house to celebrate an accomplishment, Rafe sees Topper hitting on you and finally lets himself be vulnerable.
Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll for helping me with the headers and letting me brainstorm! @cyberangel-graphics divider credit!
Warnings! Reader is inspired by Wednesday Addams! Season 4 era Rafe. Canon! Rafe! Oral! Fem receiving, praise, he lightly holds readers neck, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, barely edited because I’m ill.
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“For someone who dresses like a witch, you take the girliest drinks.” Rafe set the coffee cup in front of you and sat across from you. You gave him a side glance while typing on your laptop, mumbling a thanks.
Rafe Cameron, an unlikely companion you met in your junior year in high school while he was a senior a long time ago. The friendship evolved after a healthy rivalry because you met his horrible attitude with dry wit.
But you had a fondness for the crash out oldest Cameron offspring. Who was arranging meetings and “handling business.” As he liked to put it. You were writing up the latest chapter of your fan fiction. A popular story that got good traction. It was also something Rafe never ceased to tease you about whenever he glanced at the words you came up with.
Rafe insisted on driving you to local animal shelter you volunteered at twice a week because normally you walked or drove the quote, “Death trap.” That he threatened to have removed from your garage.
And due to his busy schedule, this was one of the few times during the week you were able to physically spend time together.
“You hear the news about Sarah and uh, John B?” Rafe bright your attention away from the musing of your thoughts and you met his icy stare.
“My relationship with your middle sister is polite at best, Rafe. So, no.” You quipped and he exhaled sharply.
“Why do you talk like that-nevermind. Nah, she’s having a baby and I need help picking out a gift. She doesn’t know the gender yet but I could use your help.” He sounded…pained and you gently closed your laptop.
Your black nail polish shined, the skull ring on your ring finger a gift from Rafe six months ago. “Babies aren’t exactly my specialty, Rafe and seeing you as an Uncle is really funny but can’t you get Wheezie to help you?”
“Wow, okay, I come to you with a genuine question and you’re blowing me off.” He accused and you lightly kicked him with a boot.
“Enough with the dramatics. I’ll sign my name on the card and we’ll consider that my contribution.”
“A card? For what?” You huffed at his lack of knowledge.
“I suppose I can…try.”
That interaction concluded a typical day between you both. Later that week, Rafe landed a massive business deal that secured a lot of money. Naturally, your outgoing best friend wanted to celebrate. His definition of having a good time and yours differed massively.
Rafe announced that he was having a party and you were coming. He didn’t ask. Knowing you’d say no so instead his solution was to show up to your apartment, holding a black bag and a large cup of coffee.
“Don’t look at me like that, Monster High. Just take the bag.” Rafe ordered and you accepted it. He stepped inside your home, leaned against the wall and made a motion with his hand.
“Go change and I’m taking you to my place.” He saw the way your nose crinkled and his hands set firmly on your shoulders.
Physical contact wasn’t uncommon from Rafe but lately it happened a lot more. Brushes against your back, a hand on the knee or smoothing away your hair. You weren’t the best at guessing intentions so it made you feel conflicted.
You liked it. You liked the gestures. And you were embarrassed to. Your best friend made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in commitments and verbalizing his emotions definitely wasn’t his strong suit.
You wrote it off as pure thoughtless action as you changed clothing in your bedroom. You glanced in the mirror, already knowing it fit perfectly. It was a black dress, shorter than you normally wore and the bodice hugged your curves.
You came out, after customizing the outfit with fishnets and chunky shoes. Rafe straightened, his tall form stiffening at the sight of you approaching him. His jaw flexed and he opened his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise.
“Let’s go.”
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You had busied yourself with setting up the music, straightening furniture and making sure the pool sparking until Rafe basically hauled you to socialize. You knew the guests but didn’t particularly enjoy them. But Rafe liked attention. He liked being around people who admired him and earning respect. He walked off, momentarily distracted by Barry and you took the opportunity to speed walk to the kitchen.
You poured yourself a soda, revealing in the brief moment of quiet when you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you saw Topper side step and stand before you. He gave you a friendly smile and instinctively pulled you into a greeting hug. You barely returned it, grimacing at the unwelcome contact and stood awkwardly.
“Hello.”
“Hey, how you doing? You look beautiful.” You almost felt…bad for him. You knew he meant it but he was just so…not your type.
“Thank you, Topper. How are you?” You felt like chewing glass at the small talk but he seemed to take it the wrong way. Topper moved even closer, mustering all the charm he could.
“Better now that I’m talking to you, pretty girl. What made you decide to join a party? It’s not your scene, huh?”
God, you wanted the earth to swallow you. But if you left, you’d be back with the crowd and loud music. Sweaty bodies and the sweltering sun. You debated sending a smoke signal but Topper’s hand fell on your arm.
Your eyes widened and he leaned down to whisper. “I mean we can always go somewhere more private.”
“For what?” You questioned and moved your head back.
“Jesus, I leave for two seconds and you’re already chomping at the bit, bro.” Rafe’s voice sounded more like salvation but the anger in his eyes took you aback.
“She’s off limits, man and I’ve told you that shit more than once. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?” Rafe touched his fingers to his temples and you looked back and forth between the males.
“I didn’t realize that she was collared by you, Rafe. Thought you were just friends?” Topper shot back and you peered at Rafe.
“It’s not a big deal, Rafe. Why are you acting like this?” You questioned and he shook his head.
“Just leave her alone. She obviously doesn’t like you.” Rafe gave Topper a threatening glare and you rolled your eyes.
You crossed your arms and stepped directly in front of your best friend.
“What’s going on with you? Lately, you’ve been different. Short tempered, more than before and now this. Is there something going on?”
Your direct question made Rafe take hold of your elbow. “cmon. I don’t wanna do this right here.”
“No. You can tell me here. Now.” You sternly replied and swatted his hand away. “What’s wrong with you?”
Rafe looked on the verge of losing his mind and he looked at Topper. “Will you take a fucking hint, dude? Go!” He shooed him and you heard footsteps descending.
You held your ground and stared him in the eye. “I’m waiting.”
“Look. I know this was a weird, shitty way to do this and you know I’m not good at the whole feeling thing. But I wanted to do something nice for you tonight. I wanted you to-I wanted to tell you that you’re important to me.” He was stumbling and scratching the back of his neck.
You raised an eyebrow. “So…you throw a party, knowing I don’t like them, drive me here after buying me this dress just to tell me I’m important?” You parroted and he groaned.
“No! I mean-yeah but-damn it.” Rafe stopped speaking but cupped the back of your head. You gasped as he brought his lips to yours in a slightly open mouthed kiss. His other hand pressed you against him by splaying on your lower back, deepening your lip lock.
His mouth was soft, dominant as he met your tongue and squeezed your hip. Shock disappeared and you kissed him back. Your stomach had butterflies and your center tightened as Rafe’s thick fingers found the top of your ass.
Your lipstick was most likely ruined as Rafe sucked your lower lip but ripped himself away. He breathed heavily and tossed a side glance around him.
“Let’s go,” He took your hand and started quickly walking. You jogged to keep up with his pace.
“Rafe, where are we going?” You asked but he kept moving, his steps quick and you saw the familiar door of his bedroom.
He pulled you inside, closing the door behind him and he went to bring you back to him but you held up a palm.
“Wait. What, what is this?” You were finally collecting your thoughts after the heated kiss, your nerve endings in overdrive and your skin burning. Catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, you saw your smeared lipstick and you sighed exasperatedly.
“What’s what? I told you earlier,” Rafe began but you interrupted.
“I know what you said. But what does that mean? In this moment. Do you just want to hook up? Is that why you just brought me in here? Is that all you want?” He didn’t miss the pointed accusation but he didn’t respond in anger.
Rafe touched his shaved scalp, chest deflating. “I get why you’d think that but no. I don’t wanna just fuck you. I like you. I like your little weird quirks. I like how you’re not afraid of what people think. I don’t want you to be any different.”
You remained silent, letting him find his words.
“Look. It’s more than…liking you. I love you,” Rafe spoke your name with a tenderness you rarely heard. Your heart swelled at his confession.
“Seeing you is the best part of my week. Talking to you is one of the only things that keep me from losing my mind. You’ve been there for me when everything went to shit and when I lost my dad (TW WARD mention)” Rafe took a step forward, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch you.
“And you’re always calling me out when I act like a dick. Which is a lot.” He bit his lower lip and your gaze flickered between his face to the floor.
“I mean can you blame me? For falling for you?” Rafe chuckled, bright teeth showing and you swallowed. Trying to moisten your dry mouth.
“Rafe, this doesn’t seem real.” You confessed. “I mean you’ve always talked about not wanting to settle down and why should I believe that I’ll be any different?”
Rafe perked up, not dissuaded and his palms finally settled on your waist. It was comfortable, despite the way your belly hurtled at his attempt at being gentle.
“Wait, that’s not a no. That’s not a rejection, do you love me?”
You felt completely naked. He was imploring you with his perfect face and intense eye contact. You weren’t good at living in the moment. You were always overthinking. And this wasn’t a cookie cutter situation. Rafe had problems. Deep ones. So did you.
But you couldn’t lie to him.
“Yes, Rafe. I love you too.” It was a shaky admission but he seized the opportunity and kissed you again.
He pressed so hard you could feel his teeth and he looped his arms around your back. Rafe lifted you off the ground, making you squeak in surprise and he landed you both on his bed.
You’d fantasized about this plenty of times but it was even better. Rafe was strong, his firm body easily weighed yours down and he effortlessly shifted your body higher. He cupped your jaw and massaged your tongue with his.
You moaned softly and then louder as he kneaded your tits. Rafe messily peppered kisses along your neck, sucking your sweet spot and your back arched. His ring clad fingers were warm as he lifted the bottom of your dress up. Exposing your body and black underwear.
“God you’re so fucking pretty. You gonna let me show you that, baby?” He breathed and dragged his lips against your upper stomach, down, down and Rafe inhaled the scent from your open legs.
His big hands peeled off your panties and he grunted deep in his chest as he looked at the wetness in the center.
“Well, you’ve been needing this, huh?” Rafe mused and caused you to whimper as he dragged his tongue to the middle of your underwear.
“If that tastes sweet, I bet the source is even better.” Without another second hesitation, Rafe pushed your thighs apart, encouraging you to put them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back as he dived in.
Rafe didn’t eat pussy that often. He usually warmed a girl up with his fingers before fucking her senseless. But with you, his dick throbbed at the taste of your cunt as he lapped away. He was a little aggressive, moving his head back and forth. Digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs but your groans and the way you set your hand on his head drove him crazy.
“Mhm, fuck, yeah i know. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Rafe praised and separated your folds. He sucked your clit and gently nipped with his teeth. Soothing it immediately and you were almost seeing stars as you rode his face.
He gave you an encouraging slap on the ass and brought you impossibly closer. You knew he probably couldn’t breathe but when Rafe tongue fucked your entrance and then dragged back to your clit it caused you to be embarrassingly loud.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming-Rafe-“ you chanted and he pried your legs back open to lick you through it. Your body trembled and your eyes fluttered open as he crawled up.
The sight of his glistening chin and mouth was the hottest thing. Rafe gripped your cheeks. “Give me those fucking lips,” And he fused them together.
You tasted the remnants of yourself as you put your hands underneath his shirt. Rafe impatiently took it off, quickly kissing you again and his fingers made work to remove his pants.
“Gonna fill you up, princess. Need to fuck your pussy,” He almost sounded on the brink of begging and you sighed in admiration as you glanced at his cock.
Rafe took the leaking tip and ran it along your slit. Tapping the head against your puffy clit and he pushed into you. The stretch ached for a second but then the way he hit the deepest spot in you made your eyes roll back.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and Rafe moaned deep in his chest. His lips found your ear, “You feel so good, fuck, I’ve been wanting this. You can take it, atta girl.”
He clamped your thigh down, holding it against the mattress, spreading you as open as possible and his other hand settled lightly around your neck. Your mouth parted and Rafe thrusted harder. Balls thudding against your ass.
“Taking me like a good girl, that’s it. Move with me,” Rafe ordered and you were fucked out completely but obeyed him.
You took his fingers in your mouth when he moved his hand, sucking softly and Rafe smiled at you with his slight smugness.
“Just Fucking your best friend and you’re already brainless. Give it to me, let me have your cum,” Rafe looked down at your connected bodies and gave you a deep roll of his hips.
You let out a sob, tears streaming down your face and mascara running down your cheeks. Your orgasm came like a tidal wave and you buried your face into Rafe’s neck, biting lightly on his shoulder.
Rafe was right behind you, emptying his cum in your pussy and he moaned thickly. His arms squeezed you a bit too tight but it was comforting. You still moved, hooking your knee against his ribcage and flipped him on his back.
Rafe let out a noise of surprise but then his blue eyes were darkened with lust. Your hands ran down his chest as sweat decorated your skin. Your jeweled fingers and bracelets clinked as you teasingly dragged your nails on his shoulders.
“I like seeing you confident. It’s hot.” Rafe smirked and reached up to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. “Mmm, you’re so pretty y’know? I’ve always thought that. Even with all that on your face.”
You rolled your eyes but gave him a returning smile. Straddling his lap, you gently bounced right above his dick. “Bet you’re just saying that.”
He rested his head back, cupping your ass and meeting your motions. “Nah, you know I mean it.”
“So, what now?”
“We figure it out. But for now,” Rafe leaned up and you felt his abs tighten. “You gonna let me feel that pretty little pussy again?”
Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @marchsfreakshow @dirtylittlefairytales @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @stillwjk-channie-lixie @gri959 @userchai @eddieslut69 @rafeinterlude @eddiesxangel @rafeyscurtainbangs @fear-is-truth @sturnioloshacker @decodedlvr @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab
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fallstaticexit · 22 days ago
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Prev / Next / Beginning
TW: Self Harm Mentioned/Implied
AN: next update our ladies will have a proper reunion but first tree farm tree farm! (Even though only the poor kids- and Bob- are the only ones super excited about it)
Transcript under the cut
Nancy Narrates: [All those years I’ve spent yearning, wanting, my whole self calling for her—and now she’s here]
Nancy Narrates: [This isn’t a dream. She’s here. I can feel the warmth in her cheek]
Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have-
Vanessa: [laughs] It’s ok, Nancy! It’s good to see you too.
Vanessa: Wow, look at you. You’re all grown up, aren’t you?
Nancy: I- I-
Vanessa: Still filled to the brim with tears too.
Nancy: [softly] Sorry. I thought.. I thought I’d never see you again.
Vanessa: 16 years is a long time. I was worried you would have forgotten all about me.
Nancy: I could never forget you.
Vanessa: I’ve come all this way to see you.
Nancy: Have you really?
Vanessa: I know it’s been years, but I was hoping we could reconnect. I’m staying at the Fyres Hotel. Maybe we could have dinner there tonight. Catch up?
Nancy Narrates: [I had to physically restrain myself from saying yes. I realized, after all these years, I still would have followed her anywhere...but it can’t be this way. Not anymore..]
Nancy: [exhales] I can’t. I’m sorry. I had plans.
Vanessa: Ah! Well. I did pop in last minute. Maybe some other-
Nancy: You could come with me! I mean, If you like? We’re supposed to get a Christmas tree for the house; trying to set new traditions and what not.
Nancy: It’s silly but it’s important to them- my sons. I have two boys, by the way. I have to do this for them but- you’re here and I don’t know if I can see you leave again. God, am I rambling too much?
Vanessa: You want me to go tree shopping with you and your children?
Nancy: [blushes] Will you?
Vanessa: Lead the way.
-
Malcolm: What’s taking that lady so long!
Jonathan: Should we try and call mom again?
Geoffrey: [hums noncommittally]
Malcolm: He’s not even listening!
Bob: Hellooo? Earth to Geoffrey?
Bob: Iggy say, ‘what’s eatin’ ya, Uncle G?’
Iggy: [coos]
Geoffrey: Heh, sorry! Sorry. I guess I got alot on my mind right now.
Eliza: Is everything ok?
Geoffrey: Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah- well...I guess I’m thinking about Nance?
Eliza: What’s wrong with Nancy?
Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about what happened on our anniversary trip.
Bob: Yeah? What was it?
Malcolm: Mommy’s here!! Mommy’s here!!
Malcolm: Er, who’s that with my mommy?
Bob: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!
Eliza: [whistles] Oh, wow! Who is that? Is she a model?: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!
Geoffrey: Vanessa Villareal?
Nancy: These are my sons, Jonathan and Malcolm.
Vanessa: Oh! Oh, Nancy, they are beautiful.
Malcolm: Who are you, lady!
Nancy: Don’t be rude, darling. Vanessa is- was- she’s my..
Vanessa: I’m your mother’s best friend.
Jonathan: I’m Jonathan, but call me Johnny. This loud mouth is Malcolm.
Vanessa: Johnny it is. You must get those cool, blue eyes from your mom’s brother.
Jonathan: You knew my Uncle Nathan?
Vanessa: No, but I saw a picture once, a long time ago.
Vanessa: [turns to Malcolm] And you look just like your mother.
Malcolm: Are you a movie star too?
Vanessa: [chuckles] No, I’m not a movie star.
Malcolm: Then who are you lady?
Vanessa: I’m your Auntie V. You can call me that, if you like.
Malcolm: Aunt V, are you gonna pick out a tree with us?
Vanessa: You bet. You should know, I have a keen eye.
Nancy: Sorry I’m late..
Geoffrey: Better late than never. I see you had an eventful day.
Malcolm: No more talking! Let’s go already!
Jonathan: I want to find our tree with mom!
Malcolm: Well I’m taking daddy!
Bob: Alright! Long time no see, VV! Man, it’s been a while, huh?
Vanessa: Just V is fine. Billy, right?
Bob: [sighs] It’s Bobby. This is my wife, Eliza and this cool guy is Iggy.
Vanessa: [sheepishly] Right. Nice to meet you. Wasn’t there another one of you?
Bob: [chuckles] Cassie. We still keep in touch. She’s a travel blogger now. And I’m sure you remember ol’ Geoffrey here.
Geoffrey: Good seeing you, Vanessa.
Vanessa: Likewise.
Bob: Heck yeah! Let the festivities begin!
-
Jonathan: This one! This is the perfect tree, right, Mom?
Nancy: Mhm. Yes, that’s nice- I’ll be right back.
Jonathan: Oh..
Bob: Alright, what’s going on? You can tell me, it’s just us guys now, and Iggy here is great at keeping secrets.
Geoffrey: Nance was so sad on our trip, sadder than usual. I haven’t seen her so low since- well, since Vanessa left. And she kept apologizing to me.
Bob: You’ve mentioned before she gets in a mood sometimes, right?
Geoffrey: Well, yeah... that’s not all. I saw these bruises on the inside of her thigh.
Bob: [eyes widen] You think she’s hurting herself?
Geoffrey: Is that it, you think? At first I thought they were- you know, hickies?
Bob: Whoa. Hickies? On Nancy?
Geoffrey: [snorts] That’s crazy, right?
Bob: You should talk to her. If she is harming herself, you should get her help, bud.
Geoffrey: And if it’s not that...
Bob: Then, that’s another kind of conversation. But this is Nancy we’re talking about. You two have been bit by the love bug since high school. I can’t imagine her having an affair with some other guy.
-
Nancy: Hi.
Vanessa: Hi.
Nancy: Sorry if I’m being...odd. I guess, I’m still getting used to seeing you.
Vanessa: I don’t think you’re being odd. I think you’re being you.
Nancy: Is that a bad thing?
Vanessa: [giggles] No, not at all. You haven’t changed and it’s refreshing.
Nancy: Ah. Well. You haven’t either. I mean..you still feel like my Vanessa.
Nancy Narrates: [All those questions I craved answers for came rushing back to me the more I looked at her. Was my loving her just a girlish memory of our past? Did she ever hear my voicemail? Was it worth mentioning after almost 2 decades apart? After I’ve already married and had children? After I’ve sworn to dedicate my all to them-]
Vanessa: So, about that dinner. Are you free tonight?
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rememberwren · 6 months ago
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A Dichotomy of Thought || 3
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
Johnny has a good day.
Tw: ableism; implied sexual assault
#
That night you dream about fucking the two neighbors in 5C.
It’s good sex, too. You can tell by the sweat slicking your skin and the ache in your thighs. You are naked on the big one’s lap, his huge hands on your hips while he bounces you on his cock. Behind you, the shorter one loops his one arm around your waist and grinds his cock against your bare arse. 
“Did Jesus send ye?” his voice rasps against the sensitive side of your neck. You tilt your head to give him more room to suck and kiss and bite. Then, as his hand slips down to tease where you need a soft touch the most: “Are you gonna finish me off?” 
The one beneath you cums, a flood of warmth deep within your aching cunt. His groans have you teetering on the edge of your cut of the pleasure. You lean down to kiss him, but before your mouths can meet, hands grip your hips and lift you free—his cock slides out with a wet rush of fluids, leaving you feeling cracked open and empty.  
Your boyfriend passes you on to his friends who are waiting for their turn with you, and then it is no longer a dream, but a memory. 
#
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for physical therapy. Tuesdays and Thursdays are for cognitive rehabilitation. Both of these are paid for by the British government and accomplished in the ‘comfort’ of Johnny’s own home. Like that’s supposed to help; he’s going to have to sweat (literally) and bleed (probably figuratively), but as long as it’s on his own carpet, that’s quite all right. Johnny isn’t sure which he hates more, the physical or cognitive rehab. Both hurt, just in different places; one hurts the stump of his arm, the muscles of his shoulders and neck, his fake knee. The other hurts his pride, leaves him tired and second guessing his broken mind. 
The other scares him. It’s one thing to lose his arm—one terrible, traumatizing thing. But the idea that he’s going (or gone) simple is too much to take.
The cognitive rehabilitation therapist’s name is Anna. She wears horn-rimmed glasses and sloppy buns that Johnny fantasizes about gripping in his fist and throttling her with during their less productive sessions. 
By sessions, he means they play games together. Simon sits on the sofa in the living room pretending not to watch. He thinks he’s so fucking clever, turning his pages even, but Johnny knows. Simon’s gaze is a tangible thing, as physical as a touch, like a finger running up the back of his neck. There’s no hiding from it. You don’t get a name like Ghost without raising the hairs on some people’s arms with just your eyes. 
“It’s your turn, Johnny.” 
“I fuckin’ know it. Sorry—sorry.” 
Anna puts up a hand to stall his sorries. She is younger than he is; shouldn’t she be older? Wouldn’t that make this less painful? “Take your time.” 
It’s a simple matching game. There are less than a dozen tiles left on the board, and Johnny has seen most of them two or three times by now. He keeps forgetting their placements, even though he is burdened with the memory of having chosen them. 
His shaking fingers reach for a tile…a red car. Sweat breaks out on his brow. He’s seen this fucking Red Car no less than six times. His fingers hover over the board, moving from one tile to the next. Here? Or here? If he sees the Rose again, he’ll lose his head; he knows it. He can feel his blood pressure rising like the mercury in a thermometer, up up and away, blackness eating at the edge of his vision.  
Finally, with absolutely no idea where the other red car is, he picks a tile at random. 
Red Car. 
Johnny shouts out in triumph, holding up the tile for Simon to see. Even Anna—eternally unimpressed Anna—gives him a smile, infected by his joy. 
“Good job—now do it again.” 
Groaning, he picks up another tile. 
Rose. 
#
“Come lay down with me,” he says to Ghost after taking two of the green, oval pills that are the only things which take the edge off his pain. They make him so fucking tired, though—perhaps that’s their secret; if they can’t take the pain away, they’ll at least help him sleep through it. 
“Alright,” says Simon, putting his book down. He doesn’t bother marking his place; they both know he wasn’t reading it.  
The two of them slip into the bedroom. It isn’t much: a bed against the southern wall, the doors leading out onto the balcony—blinds pulled shut to keep out any hopeful rays of sunshine, a desk piled high with medical bills that the government will front. 
Johnny is pretty good about getting his shirt off with just one arm. He reaches up and back, gripping the collar, and tugs it off over his head in a smooth, fluid motion. He’s thinner after his three-month stint first in the hospital and then in inpatient rehabilitation, but he still looks good. 
He hates the stump where his arm used to be, but today he doesn’t even care. It’s a good day, a purely tolerable day. He presses himself against Simon and kisses him, the first true-kiss he can remember giving him since the accident, though his memory is not what it used to be. Simon’s hands—large and warm and strong—settle on his waist pulling him closer. It’s desperate and messy, too much teeth and tongue, neither of them quite settling into the old easy dance they used to be capable of; likely because they aren’t the same people anymore. 
“Fuck, I want you,” Johnny pants against Simon’s feral mouth.
“You can’t,” Simon grits out, dragging Johnny’s hardened cock against his own. 
“Like hell I can’t!” Though…already his knee throbs, a deep ache punctuated by glass-like shards of sharpness when he bends it. He could take it—but it would hurt. But fuck, what doesn’t hurt these days? “I need you, Ghost.” 
Simon grips him by the hair which has grown out too long and badly needs trimmed. He tugs back til Johnny’s neck pops uncomfortably. “You’ll take what I give you,” Simon says, sounding on the verge of madness, at least as desperate as Johnny feels. 
“‘n what? I can’t beg for more?” 
“Oh, you can beg,” says Simon darkly. 
He pins Johnny against the sliding doors of the balcony, rustling the blinds around his body. Knees bent to bring them to just the right height, he fists both their cocks in one large hand, his face buried in Johnny’s neck, muffling groans against his skin.
“Yes,” Johnny gasps, his nails digging into Simon’s back. “Yes, jus’ like that—fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—“
Simon keeps jerking off his spent cock well after Johnny cums, even after he begins whining and pulling back, shoulders thudding against the glass doors behind him. Ghost makes Johnny fuck his fist through the sensitivity until he cums too, both their seed slickening his hand and turning the sound of his handjob filthy-wet. 
“Thank you,” Johnny sighs, blissed out. He doesn’t feel any pain, not in his stump or his knee or his head or anywhere. Maybe it’s the pills, but maybe it’s Ghost. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing they haven’t fucked up their relationship beyond all repair, that they’re still capable of loving one another like this. “I needed that. 
Simon feeds two fingers soaked in cum past Johnny’s full lips, relishing the way his hot mouth sucks the digits clean. He admits: “So did I.” 
He cleans them both up and they curl up on the bed together for Johnny’s afternoon nap—the doctors say all the sleep he needs is good for his brain. 
Simon doesn’t intend to fall asleep. But he does. 
And when he wakes, Johnny is not there beside him. 
#
You’re just thinking how cold it is out on the balcony, wondering if it is worth it to risk going back inside for a sweater, when the balcony doors from 5C open and out steps the man you almost hit with your car. He looks likely to be cold as well, wearing only a t-shirt and loose pants, his feet bare against the concrete. 
A cigarette is tucked in the corner of his mouth, unlit. He gapes at you, and it falls to the balcony floor. Glancing behind himself into the darkness of his apartment, he shuts the door with careful tenderness before bending down with a wince to pick up his cigarette. 
 The sleeve of his missing arm dangles innocuously. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.” 
“Sorry,” you say on instinct. It’s ingrained in you; a lifetime’s worth of apologies. “I can go in and give you some privacy.” 
“World’s big enough for two,” Johnny says coolly. There are chairs out here, but he doesn’t sit. Instead he leans against the doors with his good side and pretends to look out. It’s a lovely view of the parking lot. You do the same, except you can see the spot from here where you almost hit him with your car, and it makes your stomach turn. Speaking of: “Sorry about all that in the parking lot. My temper got the best o’ me.” 
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you admit. “I was distracted. I can’t say it enough, I’m so—so sorry.” 
“Water under the bridge,” he says. He holds out the only hand he has left. “Johnny MacTavish.” 
You hold out your own left hand, shaking via air from the distance between your balconies. When you give him your name, he mutters it under his breath two, three, four times. 
“I’m going to forget that,” he warns you at length with a sad little laugh, fiddling with the unlit cigarette still in his hand. “It’s not you, it’s me.” 
“It’s alright,” you forgive. “It’s pretty forgettable.” 
Johnny frowns, putting the cigarette back in his mouth and working his hand into his pocket. His accent is so sweet to listen to, syrupy and dropping the consonants off of his words as he assures you: “Didn’t say that, did I, lass? Don’t get twisted.” 
Mollified and embarrassed in equal measure at his simple admonishment, you duck your head. 
“Got a broken brain,” he says in explanation, reaching up to tap the cigarette against the scars at his temple. “Forgot one of my own sisters’ names on the phone last week and she wept like a bairn. In my defense, I have several of them.” 
“I forget people’s names and I don’t have a head injury,” you say. 
Johnny snorts softly, the sound carried away by the wind.
He withdraws a lighter, one of the cheap disposable ones you can buy beside the registers at gas stations. His hand shakes as he tries to spin the sparkwheel once, twice, thrice, but no dice. Johnny takes a deep, slow breath, like a little boy trying not to lose his temper. He tries again, the familiar noise of steel rasping on steel, but no spark. 
You wait, patiently, eyes turned out toward the parking lot as he begins muttering curses beneath his breath. Anxiety itches beneath your skin. His building anger is a tangible thing in the air like heat thrown off by a lit flame or the smell of burnt rubber, tires squealing in the parking lot as you slam on the breaks. A man’s anger is familiar to you. It predicts pain. Your skin flashes hot and then cold, and you are just about to make a polite escape inside when: 
“Can you catch?” he asks, sending your gaze swerving to him from the parking lot.
“Can I—? Fuck!” you throw your hands up just in time, scrambling for the lighter even though he only tosses it underhanded like an easy pitch for a tee-baller. It slips from one of your sweaty hands to the other like a slapstick comedy routine, but it doesn’t clatter to the concrete nor does it fall off the balcony altogether. Holding it in your hand, you light it easily to make sure it works, missing the hungry, bitter expression that comes over his face when you do. “How? I can’t reach you from here.” 
“We can meet in the middle.” 
You can’t. Even with him outstretching from his side of the balcony and you from your own, there is a good half a meter of distance between you both. You can’t help but remember the other man’s words—I just want one fucking cigarette without worrying about him taking a swan dive off the balcony. 
“Be careful,” you admonish when Johnny slips a little, his ribs digging into the iron-wrought railing. He doesn’t have good balance, you realize. Does losing an arm fuck something like that up? The answer you don’t know: it fucks up everything. Taking a deep breath, you glance over the rail and take note of how high you are from the ground. High enough for a healthy splat should you fall…
“Forget it,” he says morosely, his brows low. He is the picture of dejection, a kicked dog. “Doctors say ‘m not supposed to smoke anymore anyway.” 
“Don’t they say that to everyone? Just—hang on.” Tucking the lighter into your pocket, you throw one leg over the railing. 
“What are yeh—you-uuu fucking nutter,” he laughs as you test the stability of the railing. It doesn’t shift or creak at all under your weight. Heart in your throat, you lift your other leg over, feet lodged in the narrow space between the railing and the concrete floor. Gripping the rail with a tight fist, you let your weight lean into the space between your balconies, reaching into your pocket to remove the lighter and flick it to life. 
Johnny looks like he could laugh or cry or both, stretching out his shaking arm so you can light the cigarette and then quickly bringing it to his mouth to suck it to life. 
“Yer crazy,” he says breathlessly, words tinted with smoke as he watches you scramble back over the railing and to safety. 
The sliding doors open. For a moment, you mistake the sound for being closer than it is—for being your boyfriend finally noticing how long you’ve been gone and coming to find you. He’s going to find you out here with Johnny and the same arguments will be born all over again—arguments about your disloyalty.
But it’s Johnny’s doors which slide open. The taller man comes out, the circles under his eyes standing out darkly  against his pale skin in the late afternoon light. At the sight of Johnny, an expression of raw, poignant relief comes over his face. 
Johnny drops the cigarette over the ledge of the balcony, face sheepish. 
“Was just meeting our bonnie neighbor,” says Johnny, slipping his arm around the other man’s waist. If there was any doubt left of what they were to each other, it disappears: seeing them together, you can see the magnetism that draws them together. They act like plants which turn toward the sunlight, except they are the sunlight. The bitterness inside you rises up in the back of your throat. “Grateful to be doing it without a car in between us. This is Simon.” 
“Nice to meet you,” says Simon. 
“You too,” you offer, like perfect strangers. 
You don’t find the lighter still in the pocket of your pants until later, when it is past midnight as you are collecting your clothes from the floor, aching between your legs and raw-eyed from crying. You flick the sparkwheel, watching the flame come alive. Glancing behind you, you make sure your boyfriend is fast asleep before creeping to your dresser drawers, opening the one with your socks, and shoving the lighter towards the back as far as you can. 
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zvdvdlvr · 7 months ago
Text
Why’d You Have to Wait?
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🔥 - synopsis. You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?
🔥 - warnings. Non descriptive torture. Scars. Burns. Very vaguely described mental issues. Slow burn. Friends ro enemies to lovers? Sad hotch. Angst. No happy ending.
🔥 - author’s note. Doing a part two. Hopefully this doesnt flop :)
Aaron had dreams about it now. They were so vivid- lifelike and real. Every time he had them he woke up in a cold sweat, heaving in the bathroom as tears dripped slowly down his face.
He hadn’t gone to the hospital to see you. In fact, Aaron hadn’t seen you since the day you almost died. He rode in the ambulance, but tore himself away from the hospital as he watched the doctors wheel you into the operating room. Your blood had stained his hands, face, and arms for days. Every time the white spots danced in his vision after emptying the contents of his stomach, he swears he can still see the glossy red liquid drip off his fingers.
You were well like. Not only by the team but by Strauss. She had given the team the time off to help y/n recover: sit in her room after another surgery, cheer for her during physical therapy.
Jack loved having time to see his dad after school, but he knew something was wrong after consistently hearing him pad to the kitchen during the middle of the night.
Tonight was no different.
Jack sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked owlishly around the room and stood up. The little Hotchner slowly followed the light to the kitchen and saw his daddy lean over the sink. “Daddy?”
Aaron turned his head and tried to smile at Jack. Aaron knew he probably looked a mess. “Hey buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Before Aaron could set down set down his water cup, Jack crawled up the seat and watched his dad over the counter. “What’s wrong, daddy?”
“I just can’t sleep,” Aaron shrugged, facing Jack with his arms crossed. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”
Jack looked at Aaron as if he had grown two heads. “You get up in the night a lot, daddy. And your eyes are red. You cough a lot too.“
Hotch wanted to laugh. Of course Jack knew something was wrong- he always knew. “Yeah. You’re right, kiddo.”
“You yell when you sleep sometimes too. What happened to y/n, daddy? She doesn’t come see me anymore.”
Aaron shuddered as he inhaled. Smart boy. “She got really hurt, buddy. It’s bad. I guess I just… get scared thinking about her getting hurt,” Aaron admits, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.
Jack nodded. “Can we go see her?”
“I- I don’t think we should. She’s still getting better.”
Jack furrowd his eyebrows and tilted his head. “But I miss her.”
“I do t- I bet she misses you, too, Jack, but I don’t know how she’s doing. She might still-“
Jack sighed. “But daddy, she’d be so happy to see me!”
Aaron sighed. As much as he selfishly wanted to see you, he couldn’t. He’d do something he wasn’t proud of- embarrass himself, ruin his reputation of being a mentally and emotionally tough boss, ruin your friendship… No. Aaron couldn’t go by himself, but Jack could go with him. Why hadn’t Aaron thought of it before?
“Okay,” Aaron relented. A smile tugged at his lips when Jack’s face lit up. He scrambled off his chair and collided into Aaron’s legs and squeezed.
“Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Aunt Jess always stays with me when I have a nightmare.”
Aaron bent down and picked Jack up and nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Let me brush my teeth again.”
Jack wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed, as big of a hug his little body could give.
— 🔥
The days were all a blur for you. Now that you were all fucked up, nothing felt right anymore. Second defree burns crawled up the calf of your left leg. Small cuts littered your entire body, scarring and twisting your skin. The worst part was the long, twisting scar that started on your cheek about two inches away from your ear and pulled down to your collarbone.
The unsub, Barney MacMillian, was a sadist. A stupid fucking sadist. He thought he was punishing you for hunting him when he kidnapped and tortured you.
You know the team tried- they really really did try- to cheer you up, to get you back. But the fact that you now considered yourself a monster and how you started to believe the things MacMillian had whispered in your ear as he tore you apart, layer by layer.
Derek genuinely thought your scar was badass, but learned not to bring it up. Penelope just kept rehashing everything- something you had eventually told her to atop doing. Prentiss was cautious, testing the waters. But she eventually got back into a rhythm with you as your best friend. JJ didn’t do anything wrong, she was just really nice- too nice? Spencer was… himself. And you couldn’t thank him enough for just staying him, recitinf facts about burns and scars, knives and blood loss. It was morbid, sure, but you were always close with him and the way his brain worked.
Rossi was the one that kept you together through it all, though. He had conversations with you, long past visiting hours. He talked with you about anything and everything and somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear or talk about. But he kept making excuses for Aaron.
Aaron. The romantic feelings you kept trying to flush away turned into hurt every time Rossi’s eyes flickered away from yours when you asked about him. But you knew now. He didn’t care. He never would. That’s why he didn’t show. It’s the only plausible explanation of why he wouldn’t show up, shoot you a text, something.
So you turned your hurt into anger and stopped asking, ignoring the way your heart would drop to your stomach and how the acid in your stomach churned eveey time you heard his name.
You already had your resignation documenta stored neatly in a magazine in the second table in the nightstand to your right. You were done with it all.
— 🔥
That’s why you felt tears prick in your eyes when you saw Jack Hotchner leap into the room. His little eyes scoured your face, eyes dragging down the healing skin on your face. You heard Aaron’s footfalls stop short at the door. Your jaw clenched and you stared at Jack, waiting for him to start crying and ask to leave.
But he didn’t. He just smiled and leapt into your arms, completely unaware of the physical pain in your leg and body. He just wrapped his arms and legs around you.
You sat still, eyes looking at Rossi, who smiled at you. You hadn’t yet looked at Aaron and didn’t even want to. Carefully you wrapped your arms around Jack’s back, ignoring how fast the tears left your eyes.
Jack pulled back and looked at you with a smile that faded the second he saw your tears. In all of your time (almost 10 years) at the BAU, Jack had only seen you cry once. And that was during a movie. 
“I thought coming to see you what make you happy,” he sad, voice sad. “Why are you crying?”
You smiled at him, sniffling pitifully. “I’m not sad, little J. I am really happy to see you,” you said. You hoped Aaron would hear the sharp undertone in your voice. Judging by Rossi’s huff of a laugh, he did.
“Oh! Well, I brought you stuff. I know you like the Black Widow because she’s really cool, so I brought you a coloring book,” Jack explained as he brandished his backpack full of stuff. You listensed intently, only looking up when Rossi got your attention and nodded to the door to signal him leaving.
Jack kept talking and you were overjoyed to listen. He was a pleasent little man, making your time more enjoyable. He opened up the coloring book he bought and started coloring after giving you a Beanie Baby he had that you mentioned you liked. He also got you a necklace- that Aaron no doubt spent a pretty penny for- that had your birthstone set in it. Jack watched you carefully as you opened it, and he put it on with his chubby fingers. You didn’t tell him that you would have to take it off soon after he left so it didn’t kill you when you slept. Hospital policy or something.
Soon after you finished your own coloring page featuring the Black Widow and Tony Stark making a hero landing, Jack turned on the T.V. and fell asleep.
“Hey,” Aaron said finally.
You nodded. “Hi boss.”
Aaron bit his lip. You stared forward, hand threading through Jack’s hair. Aaron felt his heart clenching in his chest. He didn’t know how you were gonna react when he came by, but he didn’t expect this- this silent treatment. He didn’t really blame you though. He wanted more than anything to make it up to you, to get you smiling again, but he knew the distance was probably better. For him at least.
“Y/n-“ Aaron started.”
You cut him off with. “Jack’s asleep, sir. It would be best not to wake him.”
Sir. You only called him sir if you were mad. Aaron swallowed. He knew he fucked up. Would he ever be able to fix his mistake, bring the old you back? He pondered the questions as he leaned back in his chair and watched the television show Jack chose before he fell asleep.
— 🔥
“Y/n is getting sent home today,” David’s voice crackled through the phone. “We wanted to take her out to dinner, something nice. Are you coming?”
Aaron sat at the kitchen table, checking over Jack’s homework. Jack himself was sitting a couple feet away on the couch. “Probably not. I have Jack.” 
Rossi scoffed on the other line. “She loves Jack and he loves her. Bring him with you.”
“I don’t know,” Aaron sighed. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Dave, she hates me.”
Silence. Rossi exhaled and shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, but you’re giving her a lot of reasons to. Clean yourself up and meet us all at the address Garcia’ll send you. 6:00. Be there, Aaron. If not for her…” he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. “Then for Jack.”
— 🔥
David convinced you all to wait until ordering.
But when 6:45 rolled around and Aaron didn’t show, you just clenched your jaw and ordered a neat whiskey.
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