#it needs to be a horrible neon color

[saeiken]

beach volleyball kagehina

[cherryredstars]

hello cherry this is my first time requesting something :)))) i was wondering if you could do a miguel x reader where y/n and miguel get into a big fight because miguel hasn’t been home / hasn’t been letting the reader know when he isn’t going to be there and after their fight y/n goes out to the club to let off some steam with her friends and it turns out miguel is at the club for a business meeting and he spots her and gets a bit possessive (feel free to add anything else you’d like hehehe that’s what im mainly been thinking about )

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Possessiveness, Suggestive, Slight Praise, Dom!Miguel Vibes

A/N: Hello, love! I hope you enjoy!

Unedited

You were still fuming when he left.

Your cheeks puffed in agitation, glaring at him from the couch as he walked out the door. Horrible timing if you ask him. One second the two of you are fighting about how he barely has time for you with all these meetings, and the next he’s asking for a rain check because he’ll be late for a business conference. Really helping him out there.

It’s left him annoyed the whole meeting, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table and rub his face until it peels off. In all honesty, he doesn’t really need to be part of this meeting. He’s only here for looks, not even expected to know what the meeting is about or add any input. He could be at home, laying on the couch between your legs as he laps at the liquid gold between your thighs as an apology.

Miguel lets out a heavy sigh, the noise getting lost with the loud music that’s giving him a headache. His eyes wonder from the table of men, turning his head to peer over the railing surrounding the balcony of the VIP section. His eyes scan the mass of people, taking in the writhing mass. At his age, things like clubs have lost their appeal, but he knows this place would be something you would like. You’d love to dance to these songs, too.

Miguel hums to himself, making a mental note to take you here sometime soon. His eyes are about to go back to the meeting when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. Or, multiple faces. His eyes zero in on you, your face turned to talk to your friend behind you. The strobe lights light your face in different neon colors, and he straightens up. His eyes stay on you as you walk through the crowd, a drink in one hand and the other slapped over the top as you walk. Good girl.

Miguel is content to have you have this time with the girls, knowing after fights like this you need something to take your mind off of things. But his eyes stray to a group of men near the bar leering over at your group of friends, one of the sleazy fucks gaining courage to walk towards you. Miguel’s expression sours, and he fixes his suit jacket as he stands up. The group instantly stops talking, focusing on Miguel.

“Where are you going?” One of his coworkers ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

Miguel doesn’t spare him a glance, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “Bathroom.”

The group continues to watch him, slowly turning back to each other and continuing the conversation. Miguel turns his back to them as he leaves, his eyes sticking to where you and your group stand. He can see the fuck walking towards you, and he grumbles when he realizes he’ll get to you first. Once he descends the stairs, it gets slightly harder to spot you. But it isn’t an impossible task with his abnormal height, and he can still make out the vague area you’re in. The crowd parts easily for his intimidating build, and soon enough he’s a few feet away from you.

As expected the sleaze is already with you, mouth moving way too much as he talks to you. Your brow is furrowed in annoyance, and you glare at the man as he talks. Miguel can’t make out what he’s saying, but he can tell you aren’t interested in his shit. Miguel’s stare hardens when the man leans forward, getting into your personal space and whispers something to you.

Miguel reaches you right as you lift your hand to slap him. Miguel’s front presses into your back, his hands acting fast as one wraps around your wrist and the other around your neck to tilt your head up. Your face shoots up to stare at him, the glare in your eyes softening slightly at the sight of him. Miguel’s thumb strokes the pulse point on your neck, calming you down as he stares at the man in front of you.

“Down girl,” he mumbles to you, slowly lowering your hand so it rests at your side.

You make a sound similar to a scoff, but you don’t resist. Your body melts into him, and you turn to hug him when he lets go of your neck. The man looks between the two of you and scoffs, walking off with an irritated grumble once he realizes he’s not getting lucky with you. Miguel watches him go, his large hand stroking your hair.

Once he’s completely gone you pull away from Miguel. That glare is back on your face, and you cross your arms as you stare at him.

“I’m not some dog.” You sass, tilting your chin up.

Miguel hums. uninterested. His hand comes to grab your cheeks, squeezing them together so your lips pucker. The furrow in your brow grows deeper, and Miguel’s mouth twitches at the corner.

“Of course not, mamí,” he agrees. “But you are a brat.”

You begin to grumble a protest but Miguel pinches your cheeks tighter.

“Ah-“ he cuts you off. “Behave and have fun, yeah? I’ll come get you when my meeting’s done.”

Your lips jut out further with a pout, and your grumble something inaudible before nodding reluctantly. Miguel hums, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Good girl. I’ll be back”

He lets go of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead before giving you a once over and leaving. You watch him go, trying to ignore the ache between your thighs.

You hate that fucker.

[vagabond-umlaut]

summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

[on-the-virge-of-breaking]

Patton groans, slipping into the bar alone. Usually, the singer would never be caught dead without Remus or Logan, but the drummer was already hammered off somewhere else in town, and Patton didn't need his older brother and keyboard player riding him. Plus, considering they weren't getting anywhere with the bus broken down. And so here he is, sitting down at the bar and getting something sweet to drink, hoping he doesn't get recognized.

@pattxnsanders

The bar was rather chill. Most people were there chatting some dancing but it was a definitely peaceful place. The lighting was rather low and the whole bar had a calm atmosphere, the walls were grey and most of the wood was black or dark brown. But even with all the monotonous colors and how dark they all seemed it still had some light, around the bar and on the ceilings hung stained glass bottles and there were many aspects of the bar that just had a splash of different colors with random patterned and colored cushions on chairs and even some neon lights behind the drinks at the bar. Currently some music was playing over the speakers, specifically the music from Patton’s band.

Virgil, the current bartender, looked up noticing someone new walking into the bar and went over. He felt like he’d seen the other before… but honestly he was horrible at names and putting them to faces. “Hey,” Virgil greeted leaning against the inside of the bar counter, “Would you like something to drink? I mean i’d assume so… this is a bar… Um would you like anything?”

[avianyuh]

Lecture Notes | Jake Sim

Summary: In which Y/N, a college student, can’t seem to focus in her psychology lecture due to an attractive boy. The culprit? Apparently his name is Jake. 

Word Count; 4.5k

Isn’t it funny how a man can completely derail your priorities? Okay, let me explain myself.

There I was, sitting in my psychology lecture, notebook open, wearing my comfiest sweater and sweatpants. After all, it was a Friday lecture. I was mentally done with the week and already planning out my watchlist of movies for the weekend. And of course, studying, (If I had time…)

What was comical about that Friday, and almost a quarter of the semester's lectures, my notes would start out strong, really organized. I’m talking color coded with six different colors; light blue, peach, neon pink, yellow, pastel green, and a very pretty shade of lavender. Bullet pointed, sectioned by main and sub topics. The whole nine yards. But then, after about a page, the notes would start to look sloppy, then, absolutely nothing. I paid the price on my midterm for the lack of proper note taking by the way. Sorry to Sigmund Freud. Upon first inspection, it would seem like psychology is not my strong suite. But that argument is easily debunked by my last A grade from my last semester's psychology class.

So, what’s the problem? Well, it’s this guy. And in my defense, I see other girls getting distracted by him too! Which I secretly hate, but hey, he’s not my boyfriend. I’ve had one encounter with him, three weeks ago, a Monday to be exact. He sat in front of me and handed me a paper that needed to be passed back. Our fingers touched and I noticed how calloused they had felt. Call me a loser, but I sat there for the rest of the lecture hypothesizing why his fingers felt so rough. Yet again, I completely fault myself for doing so badly on that midterm.

His name is Jake. The reason I know his name is because I heard the professor call him by his name a few times. All I really know about him is that he comes into class routinely late. In the beginning of the semester, he would come in 5 minutes late. At first the professor took notice and called him out, but after the second week, he for some reason seemed to look the other way and Jake started showing up 10 minutes late, which has become the norm. He tip-toes to wherever his friend is sitting, high-fiving him and slinking down in his seat. But, I’ll give him credit, once he actually makes it to class, he takes a lot of notes, occasionally volunteering an answer or question. I don’t know what it is about him. Maybe his voice? It’s really calming, he’s pretty soft-spoken. Plus, the fact that he has an accent, my guess would be Australian? But I don’t know that many people with accents so maybe he’s English? I’ll probably never know…Or maybe it’s his eyes that make him so attractive? He has these kind, brown eyes. To me, he’s just intriguing. I know nothing about him other than the fact that his time management skills are horrible and he has a large group of friends. I see him around on campus a lot. A swarm of people follow him around, always laughing. I also can’t help but notice the rotation of girls that seem to be on his arm every other week. They always look so happy with him. Usually the girl is walking with him, staring at him adoringly, but he’s always looking straight ahead. I never understood that.

And not too long after I see him with one girl, there’s a new one doing the exact same thing. Right after I had that passing the paper back encounter with him, I saw him walking on campus with this girl. Like I said, normally, he’s looking straight ahead, but this particular time, he looked right at me as we passed each other. I quickly averted my gaze away from him, internally screaming all the way back to my dorm room.

One time I went to a party with a friend of mine. She made me go, and said it would be fun. What a liar… So I get there, the dorm room is packed, barely any room to move around. The room was decorated with LED lights that were all red, I swear it looked like a rave or something. Turns out, I have claustrophobia by the way. I felt like I couldn’t breathe due to the lack of personal space. I saw Jake there, which in hindsight wasn’t very surprising because it seemed like my whole campus was trying to fit into that dorm room and hallway. I sat in the corner with my friend who 20 minutes into the party was also starting to come down with a case of party-goer's remorse. I watched from that stool in the corner as he danced with his date. How they made out against the wall. I even watched when he stumbled to the cooler to get another drink, obviously drunk. Then I saw him wander back over to her, and accidently spill his drink all over her blouse. The people in the surrounding area all went Oooooo, and the girl gasped. Stomping her foot, she yelled out, “What the fuck Jake?! You did that on purpose!” Then she shoved him. Now, in her defense, I could see that he was trying to conceal his laughter as he handed out some half-assed apology. She stormed out of the party, leaving him and his friends in hysterics. “Babe, I’m sorry, but accidents happen.” Jake threw his hands up defensively as his friends laughed at her. That next Monday in class I didn’t even notice that he had snuck in. And for a few days, I honestly thought I was over my little infatuation with Jake. I choked it up to him being an attractive douchebag.

But remember, I said I thought I got over my infatuation. And here I am. Sitting in class, empty seat to my right. The person who usually sat there, a guy with a buzzcut who always came in with a cup of coffee from the coffee cart outside and his giant water bottle, was seemingly missing. Overall, a quiet guy. The few times I had spoken to him had been pleasant. Just a few basic, ‘Hey's' and ‘Nice weather, right?’ or even a ‘Nervous about the exam?’.

15 minutes into my lecture. It was a rainy day. I already mentioned my lecture attire, my sweater, a tan colored cozy knit one and my black sweatpants. My notes were organized and I was actually pretty invested in the topic today. Everything was going well, but I couldn’t wait to be done for the day and back in my bed. After all, it was cold and dark outside. But then, the sound of the door creaking open, the gust of wind that came along with it hitting me and making me shiver. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. I could hear his footsteps, searching for wherever his friend was sitting. But this time, the footsteps started to sound more frantic. I could hear him pacing, but I refused to look in his direction. After all, I was supposed to be focused on my professor, not him. And I saw first hand how much of an inconsiderate jerk he could be at that party. He wasn’t worth the distraction and another week of incomplete lecture notes. Then the footsteps started to get closer. Going from a distant tapping sound to almost a persistent stomp.

And that’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Um, excuse me?” That familiar voice, just a whisper, was now in my ear. “Is anyone sitting here?” I looked up at him, taking note of his beautiful smile as I nodded my head yes to his question. His closed lip smile transformed into a full toothed one, “Thanks!” he said enthusiastically. I quickly looked back down at my notebook, scribbling down what was on the board. I suddenly felt hyperconscious of my breathing. How loud or erratic it may have sounded to the insanely attractive Australian next to me. I wondered if he could hear me swallowing. And I prayed that my stomach wouldn’t make any noise for the rest of the class, considering I felt myself becoming hungry. I tried to be as quiet as possible. Also trying to make sure that my elbow didn’t accidentally touch his. A few minutes later, I felt him nudge my arm. At first I didn’t look because I thought it was a mistake. “Excuse me?”, he whispered again. I turned my head to face him, looking over expectantly as I waited for him to continue asking his question “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but would you mind if I looked at your notes? I know I should have gotten here sooner… I get it though if you don’t want to share…” he rambled. I held up my hand up in front of his face, stopping him from whispering.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” I shrugged as I moved my notebook closer to him.

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed as he started to copy them down.

“No problem.” I replied. Well, there goes another week of half-complete notes, I thought to myself as I tried to refocus my attention back on the professor. By the end of the lecture, Jake had taken down all my notes and I had missed the second half of the lecture. As I started to pack up my things and head out, Jake did the same. Normally he rushes right out and has a group of people waiting for him outside of the lecture hall. Today, he was lingering. And then just as I was zipping up my bag, he cleared his throat. I looked up at him and he stared back at me, looking like he wanted to say something.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me copy the notes down. You have great note taking skills, not to mention, really nice handwriting.” He complimented me, that same warm smile on his face. I couldn’t understand how someone could appear to be so kind, yet come off as so inconsiderate of other people. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but admit that I was flattered by the compliment.

“Oh, thank you. I actually always thought my handwriting was sloppy.” I responded back. Throwing my bag over my shoulder and pushing my chair in. I stared out the window, noticing the light rain had now turned into a heavy downpour. I groaned as I laid my bag back on the table, unzipping it and pulling out my jacket and umbrella. Jake looked at me in confusion upon hearing me groan, before peeking past my shoulder and letting out an understanding ‘Ah’ before doing the same as me. We stood in silence as we both put on our jackets. I made the first move to leave, though he was closest to the aisle. He made no attempt to move as I tried to maneuver around him.

He stopped me again, speaking up, “I feel kind of bad. You missed out on taking notes for the second half of the lecture because of me.” He continued, moving out of my way. “Do you have any other classes today?” he questioned. I pursed my lips together as I tried to figure out a response to his first statement and more importantly, what he was trying to imply with the question regarding my schedule.

“Well, first of all, it’s okay, I was paying attention so I’ll probably just go home and try to write whatever I remember down. But to answer your question, no I don’t have any other classes today.” I decided to be truthful with him, as I assumed he was just asking me to be nice for letting him copy my notes.

“So you were going back to your dorm after this?” He raised his eyebrow. I let out an awkward laugh.

“Um, yeah, it’s a torrential downpour out there, my hiking plans have been ruined for the rest of the day.” I responded sarcastically. To my snarky response, his warm smile now morphed into a devilish grin.

“Instead of sitting inside all night, why don’t I buy you a coffee and give you the rest of the notes” Jake proposed. To that question, I gave him a puzzled look.

“But you didn’t get the rest of the notes either?” I responded back, confused.

“Yeah, but the professor keeps a copy of the lecture notes in that desk over there. And luckily for you, I know how to pick locks.” He bragged, pulling something pointy out of his pocket as he started to make his way down the steps towards the professor's desk.

“Wait, doesn’t he take his lesson plan with him?” I called out after him, looking around the two exits nervously, expecting someone to come in and catch Jake breaking into the professor’s locked drawer.

“Not on Fridays. You’d be surprised how many of the professors leave things out in plain sight.” He explained as he bent down so he was eye level with the drawer. He pulled out a lock pick and got to work. His eyes focused intently on the drawer.

“But this isn’t out in plain sight, you’re literally picking his lock…” You tried to rationalize.

“So…Who cares, he already taught it. It’s not like we’re cheating. We’re just going to get the notes and I’ll sneak back in and put it back before Monday morning. I do it all the time.” He got silent for a minute before he jumped up. “Aha!” and with that, the drawer was open. He pulled out the lecture plan, before he grabbed your hand with his free one and started running up the stairs. I tried to keep up with him, your head spinning by how weird your seemingly calm Friday had become. “Grab your bag. You know the coffee shop across from this building right?” He asked. I squinted my eyes before nodding as I threw my bag over my shoulder. “By the way…What’s your name?” Jake titled his head at you, waiting for a response.

“I’m Y/N.” I responded back, extended out my hand for a handshake. He smiled at me, making my heart sort of melt, before placing his hand in mine.

“Jake.” He said, and you pretended to act like you learning his name was a recent development.

“Nice to meet you, Jake”. I grinned as we both made your way out of the huge lecture doors. What was supposed to be a boring Friday just turned into one of the most surprising days of my life. By the time we made it to the coffee shop, fighting our way through the rain, and fully situated in the back of the coffee shop 10 minutes later, you pondered if all this really was going to amount to was a study date?You wondered if he had his next girl of the week yet? Or worse, what if you’d end up being his next temporary fix? You ended up telling yourself that you wouldn’t know how this would all pan out unless you gave him a chance. Part of you wanted to abandon whatever this was with Jake to go back to your dorm. A place where you didn’t feel self conscious in front of hot guys. The other part of you was really tempted to stay and try and see if there was more to him other than a cute accent, a rebellious streak and inviting eyes. I watched him closely, his back turned to face the counter as he placed the two orders. I noticed a friend of his had snuck up behind him, patting him on the back as they greeted each other. They were murmuring something to each other and I decided to look away before he caught me. I looked down at my phone as a way to look busy, but readjusted myself in the seat so I could get a small glimpse of Jake and his friend through my peripheral. All I could tell was that the conversation was light hearted, I heard something about an exam, a party over the weekend and then I heard his friend ask if he was at the coffee shop alone…To which I could see Jake out of the corner of my eye turn towards me. But they got kind of quiet as I assumed he was saying something about to his friend. I pretended to keep scrolling through my phone, even though I really had nothing to do on there. I texted my friend, who had hopefully finished all of her classes for the day. But to be honest, she was quite unreliable since she took a long time to respond to text messages. However this time after sending a quick, Hey, she surprisingly responded back almost instantly.

Hey! Done with all your classes?, she wrote.

Yeah. Going to go home pretty soon., I texted back.

Oh, you’re not home now? I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie? I have snaaacks… Now I’ll be frank, that offer did sound tempting.

I want to but I’m at the coffee shop trying to get some notes from this guy for my psychology class. It’s a long story. You explained.

WHO?! Anyone we know?, she questioned.

That guy Jake who I thought was cute…, I typed back.

Girl no! He’s such an asshole, remember that party?-

But before I could read the rest of her message, Jake appeared in front of me, setting down my coffee and sliding into the seat across from me. He gave me that beaming smile of his I had seen quite a lot of today. “Sorry, that took so long. I don’t know if you saw but that was my friend Jay.” He explained as he waved at his friend who was now on his way out of the coffee shop.

“Oh, no problem, the longer I sit here, hopefully the rain slows down and it’ll make the walk back to my dorm easier. But you didn’t take that long so don’t apologize.” I reassured Jake as he nodded understandingly. Jake stared at me for a minute, before opening and then closing his mouth, hesitant to speak. “What?”, I questioned, grinning at him. His eyes went wide, as he tried to conceal his smile. “No seriously? You looked like you were going to say something!”, I teased him, waving your hand for him to continue.

“No, it’s stupid.” he said under his breath. I hummed in response.

“Almost everything is stupid. Plus, I don’t judge.” I lied. The truth is, I can be pretty judgmental. Hey, I thought I had written Jake off as a douchebag, and I still wasn’t completely comfortable letting my guard down in front of him just yet.

“I don’t know, I just wish we had spoken to each other sooner. I’ve seen you around campus a few times and I knew we had a class together. But I never sat near you or anything pther than a few weeks ago...” He explained, avoiding eye contact with you. I took a sip of my coffee as I listened to Jake intently. “Plus, I know most people probably already formed their opinions of me…” He concluded.

“What do you mean?” I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows at him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Well, I come in late almost every class. And I know that’s fully on me. But I’m sure you’ve noticed?” he looked up at you hesitantly. I nodded my head in agreement and he groaned. You chuckled before trying to make him feel better.

“The professor doesn’t seem to care, so maybe it’s not a big deal? If it really bothered him, you probably would’ve been kicked out of the class.” I rationalized.

“He did want to kick me out of the class. Apparently my Dad made a phone call, they know each other from college. I got an angry call from him, telling me I was an embarrassment to the family, that I wouldn’t amount to anything, needed to get my act together, blah, blah, blah.” Jake’s voice got deeper, no, more frustrated as he looked as if he was thinking back to that said phone call. You leaned your arms on the table as you listened to him.

"Well…can I ask you a question if you promise to not get mad?” I tilted my head at him. He took a sip of his coffee as he hummed in response. “Why exactly do you come to class late?” He put down his coffee as he sighed again.

“Honestly? My other class is a business law one. It’s on the other side of the campus. One time I just skipped it, which was why I was on time for psychology. I explained it to my advisor and my father, but I can’t drop it because I need the credits. Whoever designed this campus was an idiot in my opinion.” He stated as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“That actually makes a lot of sense. I assumed that you just didn’t care enough to show up on time. But you always seemed interested because you’d ask a lot of questions so I was always kind of confused by the whole showing up late thing.” I explained as Jake kept his eyes on me. “Second question…how the hell did you get into the habit of picking locks to get the lecture plan.” I giggled, covering my mouth as he himself started to laugh.

“It was actually back in freshman year. I had been one of the last people in the room with a professor on a Friday. I noticed that she had left the lesson plan in her drawer. I needed a few more notes so I went down after she left the room and picked the lock. That was something I learned to do back when I was a kid. But all I did was copy what I needed and I put it back, I swear.” He explained, throwing his hands up defensively.

“Hey, I believe you. And if I didn’t say it before, I’m really thankful that you wanted to help me with the notes. You didn’t have to…” I responded.

“No, after all you did, it was only right. And now look, we got to know each other. I’m having a good time with you.” He confessed, fidgeting with his coffee cup. I mimicked his movements, starting to feel a little antsy. I toyed with the idea of laying out everything I was feeling about Jake with him. I was feeling unsure if he was truly just going to give me the notes and that would be it. I wondered if he just saw me as a potential friend. And of course, maybe he was into me, but I had no desire to date him for a week and then have to go the rest of college seeing a guy who dumped me around campus for two more years. But I guess I made the decision easy, because before I knew it, I was involuntarily blurting out all of my intrusive thoughts.

“Okay, I just have to ask now. I want to be transparent with you. I was aware of you before we officially met today. I also saw you around campus a lot. Is this simply just an exchange of notes and nothing more? It’s okay if that’s what this is, I mean, I get it. Or is this just you trying to be my friend? That’s fine too.” I halted my speech for a second, looking into his eyes. Now he was the one motioning for me to continue. His expression was more so on the serious side now as he waited to hear me out. “Or, um, are you interested in me? Oh god…” I hid my face in my hands as I mentally slapped myself for saying something that sounded so self absorbed. “I feel like an idiot. You probably have a girlfriend already, I always see you around campus with a different girl.” I decided I didn’t really need the notes after all. After all, what was another mediocre test grade? At least the first half of the notes were written down for the week, right? I stood up quickly, reaching for my coat and quickly throwing a few dollars on the table, a repayment for the coffee, though he hadn’t asked me to pay him back.

Jake quickly stood up, grabbing my hand, stopping me from reaching for my coat. “Wait, wait, wait. You didn’t even let me answer” He laughed lightheartedly as he tried to persuade you to sit back down. “I didn’t realize I was sending out so many mixed signals. I thought when I said that whole thing about seeing you around and wanting to talk to you, I made myself clear…” He rambled. But I was still confused by what he meant. And by the look on his face, he could tell you were still confused. “To be straight forward, yes. I sort of had the intention of asking you out. I like you.” I couldn’t help but feel my heart flutter upon hearing that. Then he continued, “I like how sarcastic you can be. And I really find how honest you are attractive, not to mention I think you’re gorgeous.” I hid my face again, but this time, he murmured no and raised your chin up so that you were looking right at him. “I thought this would be a great way to continue talking. I didn’t want to ask you out earlier because I didn’t want you to say no since we spent most of class just sitting, not really talking.” Jake explained. “And for the record, not all of those girls were people I was going out with. I went out with two different girls between freshman year and now. The rest have all been friends.”

I thought back to that party. The girl he was with who he spilled the drink on. I assumed the girl from the party was most likely his ex-girlfriend. Though I was still curious, I didn’t want to pry. At first you didn’t know how to respond to him. Overall, you were ecstatic on the inside. “I’m willing to go on an actual date with you. But preferably, not when it's thundering and down pouring.” I joked as I turned my head toward the huge coffee shop window.

“I agree.” Jake responded, laughing. “But, how about we wait the storm out here and I’ll walk you back to your dorm later?” You both looked at each other, smiling. You couldn’t help the blush that was now creeping up on your cheeks.

"After the notes though! That’s how this all started…” I said as we both pulled out our notebooks. Two hours later, another coffee, two sandwiches and a 10 minute walk to my dorm, I had a date scheduled for tomorrow night, exchanged phone numbers and a long story to tell my friend. And to think it was all thanks to notes…

[unholyhelbig]

Keep the kate angst coming pls

Title: Firecrest (Part 4/???)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Bad parenting, panic attacks, possible arson, descriptions of fire, fight scenes, blood, angst, and horrible grammar (I don't proofread)

[A/n: All of my Kate Bishop stories have a tendancy to flop, but this one is for you, six loyal readers, I love you!]

Bobbi Morse refused to release her hold on the duffle bag. It was comically pink but covered in different drawings that bled into the nylon as if the item had been wounded. You hated the color, despised it, really, but defacing it with sharpie markers seemed to settle your discontent.

Her other hand gripped her daughters shoulder with her usual confidence and you knew better than to pull away from her. The woman in front of you was only a head taller than you, her face pockmarked with zits of different pustules of width. When she smiled, her lips made an uncomfortable noise against her braces.

“Miss Morse, I promise you, Y/n will have a fantastic, safe, time.”

They were playing tug-of-war with the bag now. It was subtle enough that no one else would notice. But of course, Eleanor Bishop was always the first in the room to notice subtle. She materialized out of a Rolls-Royce that had a strange purple tint to it in the mountain sun.

“Oh, Bobbi, you have to relax.” The woman gabbed your mother in the side. If anyone else had ever tried that, they’d lose a hand or possibly a heart. “You think I would really send Katherine to Target Trails if it were dangerous? These are trained professionals.”

That seemed to relax Bobbi’s shoulders by half an inch. Your mother was not worried about safety. She had ensured that you knew how to take care of yourself from a young age, much younger than the counselor in front of you now.

The idea of leaving you in the middle of the forest wasn’t a problem either. You had survival skills, you could make a home for yourself out here in the wilderness and wander back to civilization on your own in time for school to start in the fall.

Bobbi trusted you. What she didn’t’ trust, was your powers. You had become less reactive over the years, relied on therapeutic techniques to control the fire that festered just below your fingertips. But there were moments, sporadic ones, where the heat got away from you and you were too groggy to chase it.

“Jessica, dear. Can you make sure that Katherine and Y/n are in the same bunk?”

“Mrs. Bishop, the assignments have been set for weeks, I can’t just-“ a crisp hundred dollar bill was slid across her neon clipboard. Her eyes widened, narrowed, but she snatched it up all the same. “Would you look at that? We just had a bed open up in the bullseye cabin.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Bobbi was suddenly relinquishing her hold on your bag to cup both of your shoulders. At fifteen, you were nearly her height. She made a point never to bend down to speak to you. It was demeaning, and you both knew it. She addressed you like an adult in these moments.

“Okay, sweetie, remember what doctor Garner said.”

It wasn’t a question. Your coping mechanisms were drilled into your mind, tattooed against the softness of your brain. You were supposed to name five things in the room you could touch, five you could see, five you could hear, and five you could smell. By the time you’d puzzled it out, you had reached to the end of that ever-familiar heat.

There were other tools; an imaginary box to put your worries in, a safe-space that was fire retardant. But there were almost always moments you feared that nothing would work. That you’d torch a place and add more names to your ledger of misuse.

“I love you, firefly.” Bobbi kissed between your eyebrows and gave your shoulders an extra squeeze. “Send a smoke signal if you need me.”

She smiled jokingly before loading back into her jeep and expertly pulling from the gravel drive. She kicked up white dust behind her that tasted like the salt of the earth when you inhaled. Jessica smelled like sunscreen and sweat, and you stepped to the side before she had a chance to touch you in a nurturing way.

“Right, let’s get you to your bunk.”

There were four other girls in Bullseye, including Kate; America Chavez, who had somehow already found a stick to carve with a pocket-knife that should have been confiscated upon entry. Cassie Lang, a small blonde that had already claimed the top bunk. And Gwen Poole, a girl who would have loved your pink bag before you destroyed it, the tips of her hair dyed the offensive color.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s good to see you too, Katie.”

“Okay!” Jessica clapped her hands together, “Y/n, I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is at six and there is a mandatory campfire afterwards.”

She seemed to sense the tension and left fast enough not to get hit with the sticky screen door. She took the cabin steps two at a time and kicked up a trail of dirt much like Bobbi had. Kate had claimed the bottom bunk on your side of the cabin, leaving you with the rickety top.

“I hope you’ve curved that nasty bed-wetting habit of yours.” She said, just loud enough for the whole cabin to hear.

“Hope you packed an umbrella.”

Kate turned as white as a sheet and clutched her pillow to her chest. She could never tell if you were being serious or not. Of course, you weren’t. You’d never wet the bed. Setting it ablaze on the other hand? That wasn’t so far out of the realm of possibility.

“You take that back,”

A wolfish grin moved across your face before you pulled yourself up onto the scratchy green blanket. The springs creaked as if they’d been used for years. You were suddenly exhausted and made no move to remove your boots, or unpack the duffle shoved to the side.

“Do you two know each other?” America asked, shirking a long strip of birch onto her own bed. She was sitting cross legged, getting it as sharp as she possibly could. You had a feeling you would gravitate towards her throughout the summer. “Or is this some weird attempt at flirting?”

You sat up fast enough to make your head spin, “Our parents run in the same circles. We’re obliged to be in each-others presence at least 75% of the year.”

“Obliged? Try forced” She scoffed, scowling at you. “You don’t even like archery.”

“I like being better at it than you.”

“You’re not.”

“They’re totally flirting.” Gwen whispered to Cassie, who gave an exaggerated nod, barely stifling her blinding grin with the stuffed bear she’d brought along to suffer with the rest of them.

Most of that summer had passed by in a blur. You really didn’t like archery. Your aim was there, but your form was lacking. Kate ticked all the boxes and had even split an arrow straight down the middle on the second day of camp, much to your dismay.

The two of you mostly stayed out of one another’s way, on opposite schedules by design. You’d grown impossibly close with Gwen and America, the three of you none too enthusiastic about the sport that Target Trails boasted about. You were much too interested in the lake, and spent most of your time out there.

A week and a half before the end of summer, and you had let your guard down. You would never admit this, but you were actually having fun and participating. Gwen had begged you to attend a movie night at the fire pits, and you had agreed with the promise of sickly sweet marshmallows.

The two of you were huddled up under a blanket, biting through the late-night mountain chill. You hadn’t been paying attention to the content that would be shown, nor to anything other than the slow-moving bag of puffed deliciousness that was making its way towards you.

“We have a real treat for you tonight, campers. We’ve got first hand access to the new Hawkeye documentary! It’s not releasing until this November, but he loves what we do here at Target Trails and gave us an exclusive.”

A wash of numbness fell over you, appetite suddenly gone. You were frowning, you knew, at the documentary as it played on a hung white sheet, strung up between two evergreens. Your fingers curled around the edge of the blanket.

Gwen nudged you with the bag of marshmallows, but you shook your head, too engrossed in the picture on the screen. Seeing him as a hero, you could handle. He’d been on the news, and you’d caught glimpses before Bobbi shut it off. But this was different. This was about his life.

He sat at his kitchen table with his family. A baby cradled in his arms and a woman with kind eyes at his side. There was a girl around the same age as you in the other chair, pushing yellow eggs around her plate and doing her best to ignore the camera. A daughter.

“Lila, don’t be rude, say hi to the nice film crew.”

Clint was joking, and the frame was shaky, but she gave a small wave and dazzling smile regardless. The thought was bitter; what made her different from you?

You didn’t realize that your breath had quickened and you’d wigged out of the fleece blanket that you shared. Gwen looked at you with worry, but you had the stamina to hold it together until you could maneuver around other campers to the darkness of the surrounding woods.

Far enough to stifle your sob in the side of your hand and fall to the damp forest floor. The pain that ripped through you was unbearable, and you naively dug your fingers into the dirt to see if it would extinguish the building flames.

The pressure licked at your throat and pressed down your spine like a metal rod. It hurt to hold it in, to let warm tears soak through the glowing embers that had taken over your irises. You were doing so well. You were pretending almost too well, to be normal.

Arms were around you in an instant, but you were too far gone to push them away. Instead, you folded into the embrace. It was cold compared to your body-heat, the scent of artificial wintergreen rivaled the real thing. It was Kate. You knew from the strong grip of her hands and the gentle soothing words that you couldn’t process.

A growl had escaped you, and when you peered up at her, the orange glow of your eyes shaded her features. There was no moon tonight. They flickered like a lantern used as a beacon. Kate drew in a sharp breath, but didn’t’ push.

“You need to breathe for me, y/n.” She said instead, letting you clutch onto her camp shirt and stain it with dirt. You were in her lap like an insolent child, but you would combust if she let you go. As if on instinct, she held you tighter. “Four in, six out, come on.”

You tried to follow instructions, but the pain started to roll in waves. The rolling in your stomach felt like you were about to vomit up magma. Kate was panicked, you could see the beautiful gray of her stare flicker with worry. Your hands were getting hotter.

“Fuck it,” She hissed.

Kate leaned down with fervor and pressed her lips against yours. It was not graceful, her teeth hit your own with a dull clack and her hand was gripping your collar to hold you up. Her nose was cold, and her chest heaved up and down with anxiety. It was much too clumsy, and it was glorious.

Eventually, you sucked in a deep breath and used your heels to scramble away from her, back hitting the hard bark of a tree. She had a dazed, glassy stare that still seemed to seep with worry. The worst of it was over, and you were suddenly exhausted.

Your stare didn’t glow like engine coal and your skin had returned to it’s normal pigment. You were breathing normal, almost greedy for the tinny taste of it. “What the hell, Kate?”

“Me what the hell?” She whispered harshly, “You what the hell! I was preventing a forest fire.”

“You’re not smokey the mother-fucking-bear.”  

It was harsh, you should be thanking her, but you wanted to get as far away from the archer as possible. You clambered to your feet and started to head towards civilization. You needed to get to the payphone. Screw the last few weeks of camp. That was too close of a call.

Kate didn’t’ let you get far. Her fingers wrapped around your wrist and she held you in place with an impressive amount of strength for a girl her size. “I don’t understand a lot about what happened just now. That’s not important. I don’t get why you’re so mad.”

“Because,” The first word was easy, the rest got stuck in your throat. You tore your hand away and she let you. “You… stole my first kiss.”

Her features softened for a moment before she narrowed her eyes in what you could only describe as discontent. There was plenty to thank Kate Bishop for, and plenty more that you had to explain to her. Instead, you were hung up on this. And why wouldn’t you be?

You’d been saving it. You’d expertly dodged Tommy Maximoff at a game of spin the bottle just last week. And before that, you’d gone to see a movie with Teddy Altman who seemed as worried about grabbing your hand with his sweaty one as you were. None of it felt right, and the two of you both breathed a sigh of relief when the credits rolled.

She kicked dejectedly at the dirt. “You took mine too, you know? You were freaking out and I saw it in a movie. It worked. Didn’t it?”

You blinked at her in surprise. Kate bragged on multiple occasions that she and Eli Bradley, a kid that was way too into ROTC, had made out behind the bleachers. It made sense now, why the two of you had done your awkward little dance on the forest floor.

“Thank you,” You settled, working shaking hands through disheveled hair, suddenly feeling even. “For doing that, I mean. It could have been really bad.”

 An obscure pop song crackled through the overhead speakers in the grocery store. The lights buzzed under the melody, uncomfortable and neon in their flickering annoyance. You hadn’t been able to sleep, which wasn’t a surprise, so you took advantage of the low traffic to stock up on essentials.

Bread, milk, and dry pasta. Your diet wasn’t the best, but it filled you up and the staples still maintained an easy enough price for you to justify your purchases. The basket hung from your arm, slowly filling with off-brand items.

You were busy stocking up on bandages and antiseptic when you felt an odd crawling feeling up the back of your neck. You were being watched. Your movements stilled for half a second before you continued with your task, senses becoming overwhelmed with an expensive floral scent.

“Miss Morse, strange running into you here.”

Yes, it was strange. You didn’t know that Eleanor Bishop did her own grocery shopping, and judging by the single orange in her cart, you weren’t sure she had actually decided to do so now. There was a sheepish smile on her face. She had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

“Relax, sweetie.” She squeezed your upper arm. “You don’t have to be so guarded. I just wanted to extend an invitation to dinner this Friday. It’s a formal event, just a chance to get to know my daughters partner a little better.”

The air suddenly felt thick. You still hadn’t produced a comprehensive sentence and now you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish that had hopped from it’s bowl. She had a thin smile on her face that failed to hide her true rage.

“I’ll even extend the invitation to your father.”

Finally, you found your voice. “I’m sure Lance would appreciate the thought, but he’ll, uh, be out of town until next Monday I’m afraid.”

“No, no. Not Lance, silly. Clint.”

Your grip tightened on the box of bandages. It made a sad noise under your crushing fingers. Eleanor’s unwavering gaze flicked down and then back up, hardly phased by your knee-jerk reaction. You were flushed with an odd type of calmness.

Five things you can touch: The rough fabric of your jacket. The metal handle of the basket. The obnoxious blue plastic at it’s end. The crumpled box of bandages.

“How do you know about that?”

“Well, dear, people talk.”

Five things you can see: The venom in Eleanor Bishops eyes. A single fly trapped in the light fixture above. A bored clerk that pushed packs of gum around the counter. The puke-colored floor tiles under your feet. The line of green vitamin bottles just below your shoulder.

“That won’t be a problem, will it? I’ve heard through the grapevine that you and Katherine are getting quite serious. It’s only customary to meet the parents. I know Bobbi so well, but Clint is all anyone can talk about these days. We’d love to get to know him better.”

Five things you can hear: The pitiful last cries of the trapped fly. The squeak of a cart that was three aisles over. The dull hum of the frozen section across the store. Eleanor Bishop’s even, calculated, breaths. An obscure rock-song blaring from the clerks’ headphones.

“Y/n?” She prodded, lifting a sculpted eyebrow.

“That… that uh,”

Five things you can smell: Your own sweat, quickly slicking your back. The musky floral perfume that Eleanor Bishop bathed in. The sharp edge of antiseptic contained by plastic bottles. The faux citrus scent of floor cleaner. The beginning of bile climbing your throat.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Bishop.” You schooled your features into something you hoped was calm. “I’ll be there.”

She clapped her hands once, a moment of success. You were absolutely drenched in sweat with a heat that even the frozen section couldn’t cure. She went to pat you on the shoulder but thought better of it, before leaving her cart with the singular orange behind.

Shopping was the furthest thing from your mind at this point. Any semblance of productivity was morphed into shock, and then scathing anger. You set your own basket down and turned to rush from the grocery store, entirely overwhelmed in the area you’d just used to steady yourself.

The change in temperature between the store and city streets was minimal. You could feel your breath speed up, your fingers start to tingle. You had to get out of here, so you started to run. Kate’s usual haunts as a hero weren’t too far, and even if they were, you were positive that you could sprint to them.

People became scarce on the sidewalks, a humid mist coated your skin. White fairy lights adorned every other tree, and then none at all. There was a darkness, chain link fences and a dog that lunged on a short lead. The streets were empty, and your chest began to ache.

You stopped in the center of the street, shouting out “Hawkeye!”

It wasn’t certain which one you would summon. You tightened your fists, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to control your breathing. You hadn’t had a panic attack like this in years, high school, to be exact. The turmoil kept building. The memories you’d shoved down boiled up.

“Hawkeye!” You shouted again, letting the orange flames engulf your fingertips, cracking against skin. “Come out or I start torching everything!”

An overreaction? Perhaps. But part of you, a very small part, was tired of playing the hero when all of the cards were stacked against you. What was stopping you from being a villain? You had your nemesis in both archers for different reasons, and a formidable villain you would be.

It would be easy to let go of the control you’d worked so hard to build. Fires were uncontrollable, they were dangerous and deadly. There was no problem setting them. It was controlling the blaze once it’d been ignited that could bring absolute destruction.

“Five!” You called out, your boots on the ground the only noise. “Four!”

You spotted a trail of gasoline leaking form the bottom of an old Camaro that was propped up on cinderblocks, all four tires being ripped from the frame. Perfect. It was clearly abandoned, and far enough away from the brownstones to be a real risk. An attention grabber.

“Three!”

You were feeling heady now. A wash of dizziness had replaced the panic as your emotions were simmering down. You knelt, the sharp scent of gasoline filling your senses. Even the smallest touch would ignite the vehicle in a wash of flames.

“Two!”

Still, nothing. The quiet was eerie. Much like crickets and frogs in the country, the city relied on it’s staple noises. There was never silence, but it fell heavy on your shoulders now. You could cut your losses, raise to your feet, and walk away. But walking away never got you anywhere. Walking away was too much like your father.

The sharp sound of an arrow being pulled back pulled you from your thoughts. “Not another move.”

Kate was bluffing. You could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes. Of course, you were positive that you were harboring the same thing. You weren’t obedient in this moment. The sight of her in her black tactical suit, marred in purple, was captivating. Infuriating all the same.

A rush of hot air pooled at your palms as you righted yourself. They’d gotten stronger, hotter. Blue licked harmlessly at your skin now. You clenched your jaw and lilted your head to the side. In this moment, despite the intoxicated hold she had on you, you wanted to fight her. Wound her as she’d wounded you.

“Do it. Shoot.” You called her bluff. Her aim was slipping. “Or we could put all of our flashy toys away and have it out like adults.”

She made no move to lower her weapon. “We can talk this out. Just step away from the car.”

“This car? God, she’s a beauty. It’s such a shame that it was put to waste like this.”

“Y/n,” She warned in a muted growl. “I will shoot.”

This time, you believed her. Any slack in her stance had tightened like she were on puppet strings. She aimed directly at your chest. Hawkeyes never aimed to kill, but they would. Kate would, if she was pushed far enough.

You lifted both of your hands up in a half surrender, letting the flames extinguish themselves. You’d shown so much restraint. So much leniency for an unfair situation that plagued the both of you. Kate lowered her arrow, the metal tip pointed at the ground before she placed it back in the quiver entirely, sensing the danger dissolving.

When she glanced up and closed the distance between the two of you, your breath hitched. There was insurmountable anger in her eyes. In a quick movement, she slapped you with an open palm, hard enough to make you taste metal, but not hard enough to cause a ringing in your ears.

Kate hissed “that was fucking stupid of you.”

Your head was turned to the side, the harsh sting throbbing in tune to your heartbeat. You pulled in a humid breath and let it out within the same sentence. It had been stupid of you, nearly starting another fire that could very easily get out of control. You’d never admit that to Kate.

In a swift move, you grabbed Kate’s arm, twisting it until she let out a yelp and fell clumsily to one knee. You stopped shy of breaking anything. “No, it was fucking stupid to tell your mother about Clint.”

Kate’s fist hit your stomach with a cheap shot. It was still effective, knocking the breath right out of your lungs. By the strap of her quiver, you dragged her back to her feet and slammed her against the side of the car.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re the only one that knows, Kate!” You snarled “Your mother invited me to a family dinner with him.”

Your knee was in between hers, she was panting, strands of hair falling into her slate stare. There was a smear of dark blood against the corner of her lip. You hadn’t put it there, and though she was pinned under you right now, you wanted to destroy the person who had done that to her.

Fist-fights were predictable for you and Kate. The first time she landed a punch was at her 9th birthday party. You don’t remember how the quarrel started, it was that trivial. It was a pool party with an inflatable slide that might as well be a boxing ring.

There was hair pulling and you remember Lance wrapping his arms around you while Derek Bishop wrestled to pull a feral Kate to the other side of the yellow slide. After fifteen minutes, the two of you were sitting at the edge of the pool digging into chocolate cake.

“Y/n, have you ever considered that other people heard the conversation we had at the benefit?” She sighed, letting her head thump softly against the side of the car. “My mother has ears and eyes everywhere. I didn’t even tell her we were dating. I would never do that to you.”

She shoved you off, and you went slack, allowing her to. You were close enough to a catering table that it was plausible. Kate sounded broken, and it filled you with a deep guilt that you weren’t quite prepared for. You had been so certain.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” She bumped into your shoulder as she walked past you. You turned, tracking her with your eyes. “After all these years, do you really think that little of me?”

“No, Kate I...”

She looked at you expectantly. Sadness rimmed her stare. All of your previous anger had melted away. There was nothing there but a deep dread. You never wanted to hurt her. You hung your head like a kicked dog, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“We’ll do the dinner. Keep playing the part. But after that, it’s done. I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t.”

Your voice was tight, chest suddenly painful. She used the edge of her thumb to wipe at the wound on the edge of her lip that you’d reopened. She swiped her tongue over it for good measure.

You were crying.

But she respected you just enough not to say anything.

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria, @pianogirl2121

[0nlyhere4phil]

Rating All of The Howlters New Outfits (except the randomized ones)

Some of you actually asked for this, so here's my review of the Howlters new outfits!

Starting with Dils Formal:

I honestly don't know how to feel about this. It's just not Dil. It doesn't go with his nerdy dad vibe at all. It makes him look older, it doesn't fit him right, and the color is really weird. If they had gone with the blue and some different shoes I think I would have liked it more, but since they didn't put much effort into it it's just bad. Objectively it's an okay suit, but for Dil it just doesn't work. So yeah overall just a no 4/10.

Next His Sleepwear:

Why did they like this so much? What is actually wrong with them? If it was just the pants and the slippers it would have been fine, but the pants, the slippers, AND socks...it's just too much. No no no bad. 2/10.

Next His Party Wear:

What are they doing to him?? Who is this? I'm kind of just staring at this not knowing what to say, because I think if, minus that UGLY HAT, this was on a different and younger sim it would look okay. This looks like Dil is going through a midlife crisis. I like that the shoes match the shirt, thats nice, and I like the overall color pallet, BUT NOT ON DIL! So I'm weirdly torn, but since this look is on Dil I don't like it. Again it's not that bad but on Dil it's just horrible 4.5/10. I hate that fucking hat.

Next His Swimwear:

You don't get how relieved I am that they didn't put him in a fucking speedo. I like this a lot. This looks like a father, which is perfect for Dil. It's cute, it's simple, and I like the colors they chose. 9/10

Next His Hot Weather:

Meh. They didn't change much, they just made it worse. I prefered the original because I feel like the green looked better. Also wearing slippers on a hot day sounds absolutely HORRIBLE! 3/10

Next His Cold Weather:

I absolutely LOVE THIS! It's so fun! Dil in the horrible 80s dad aesthetic works perfectly! It's still nerdy as well! I feel like this is perfect. If they had made his whole wardrobe this over the top ugly neon nerdy look I would have loved it! 10/10

That's it for Dil. To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. I feel like they should have gone for nerdy Dad than whatever the hell they actually did. Next up is Tabitha.

Tabitha's Everyday:

This is just an upgraded version of her original outfit. I like the new hair color, though I wish they looked through different hairstyles cause the one they chose is not giving what it needed to give. I LOVE her new tattoo, I think it's fun that they gave her it. I also do like the shoes matching the hair. This is cute! 8.5/10

Next Her Formal:

I like the dress, but the outfit looks unfinished. They should have changed her makeup into something more dramatic to match the dress, and they also should have put some bracelets and necklaces on her. They did good on picking the main part of the outfit now they need to go back and finish it. 6/10 (I couldn't get a good screenshot with the tattoo sorry)

Next Her Sleepwear:

Slay queen. I love this honestly. I like how lavender has become her color. The sunglasses are iconic. The only thing I hate is SOCKS WITH SLIPPERS! THAT LOOKS LIKE IT FEELS HORRIBLE! Other than the sock and slipper combo this eats. 9.5/10

Next Her Party:

I beg your pardon? What is THIS and WHY was Dan so obsessed with it? This is horrible. I'm glad they remembered that necklaces and nails exist but I'm upset they exist on this monstrosity. Nothing about this goes together. THIS. IS. THEIR. WORST. LOOK. 1/10.

Next Her Swimwear:

It's kind of a mess but I kind of love it. I feel like it suits this new Tabitha. I don't have much to say other than it strangely works. 7/10.

Next Her Hot Weather:

Fuck right off. Daniel you know NOTHING about goths. This is horrible. This poor woman is going to feel so sticky and sweaty, and it wont even be worth it because this outfit is trash. Just no. 1.5/10.

Next Her Cold Weather:

I really like this. I love how throughout the outfit pink pops up, and I like that it makes sense for the category it's in. Good job Dan and Phil 9/10

That's it for Tabitha! For the most part her new outfits aren't bad. I like that they (unintentionally) gave her a pastel goth sort of vibe, I like that she does look like a streamer now, and I think the new tattoo is really cool. I will never forgive them for her party wear though. Moving on to Dalien.

Daliens Everyday:

This is fine. I wish the pants were the skinny jeans because those were more emo, and I wish he had black eyeliner. Overall it's not bad, but I prefer the original. Also they should have stuck with the purple highlights instead of changing them to red. 7.5/10

Next His Sportswear:

Ew ew ew. This is rancid. The hoodie makes him look bald, and I despise the ripped socks they gave him. I actually like the shorts though they remind me of something Phil would have had back in 2010, but even then working out in those shorts sounds like a nightmare. Other than the shorts this whole look is a wreck. 1.5/10

Next His Party Wear:

The outfit itself is okay but this is NOT Dalien. This looks like Dalien stole from a skater boy. They had the opportunity to go absolutely insane with this outfit. They could have given him crazy black makeup, a sheer shirt, some fishnets, and platforms, but instead they did this. It's lazy. It's not emo or goth or whatever they want him to be. 4/10

Next His Swimwear:

Jesus Christ. NO. Just NO. 1.5/10

Next His Hot Weather:

Why didn't they give him FISHNETS? Why did they choose those grandpa socks??? Why is EVERYTHING GREY BUT THE DRESS?? I think the idea of Dalien wearing a dress is cunty, but not like this. I feel like he would be a long skirt kind of guy. Also the cuff like glove things in the summer sounds horrible. 4.5/10.

Next His Cold Weather:

Again this is just a no. Nothing about this is emo or goth or whatever they want him to be. I like the jacket and the boots a lot; if they had put Dalien in some skinny jeans and removed that fucking hat this would have been okay. I mean this in a derogatory way, this is something Dan would wear. 5.5/10

That's it for Dalien. Overall it's just not good. Most of it makes no sense, and they also should have given him black eyeliner.

In conclusion, they really did the Howlters dirty. This is probably the ugliest dressed family I've ever seen. None of these outfits gave what they needed to give. Also this family is a sensory NIGHTMARE!

I hope whoever is reading this enjoyed this or atleast agrees with some of my points. Have a wonderful rest of your day, evening, or morning.

[scekrex]

Hey could you by chance do an Adam x reader who dies their hair all the time? Like one month they have blue hair, the next it's pink, then black, then red, and there's no real way to tell what color is next besides maybe a "I think people with *insert hair color here* look super cool", thanks and have an amazing day/night!

I fucking got you, as someone who used to dye his hair every 4-6 weeks, I feel reader's vibe

Pretty Boy Swag

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” you called out for your boyfriend from the bathroom. It only took him a few seconds to open the door and lean against the door frame, his arms were crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes was critical. Even though he was very much enjoying the view of you sitting there only dressed in boxer shorts in order not to mess up any clothes.

In annoyance he sighed, “What color this time?” Like don't get him wrong, he didn't mind that you dyed your hair regularly, he thought it was fucking badass, but he didn't like helping you because no matter how careful he was, he would always get that fucking hair dye on his skin and it would take days to fade. Your lips curled into a playful smirk as you put on your gloves and squirted some dye onto your plastic covered palm. “First bleaching, then purple,” you replied. Adam's eyes flickered up to look at the faded neon green that your hair currently was and decided that purple sounded like a fucking great upgrade. “Alright, gimme the gloves,” he continued to act all annoyed as he stepped closer. The brunette stopped behind you and took the gloves you held up to him. Once his hands were safe, he took the bottle with bleach inside from you. Bleach was fine, it burned a little in his eyes and it smelled absolutely horrible, but bleach didn't stain his hands for days so he could live with that. As long as none of it got onto his or your wings, that was.

The bit of bleach that you had squeezed onto your hand you roughly applied, only for Adam to bat your hand away, “You want me to help so you're gonna sit fucking still and let me do my fucking thing.” He would never admit that he secretly enjoyed your little hair dying sessions. It was relaxing, really. “So why purple?” the first man hummed as he made sure the bleach covered every inch of your hair. “Y’know, because extermination is in a couple days and your battle robe is mainly purple so,” you shrugged as you watched Adam through the mirror in front of you, “So you thought it would be a nice fucking match, huh?” he finished for you. “Damn right. Whatcha think?”

Adam thought about it for a moment, “Do you have golden dye?” You raised an eyebrow at that, curious on what his plans were. “Yeah, in the back of the cabinet is a bit of leftover gold, why?” Adam however, completely ignored your question and continued to cover your hair in bleach silently.

Once he was done the two of you decided to order food and something while the bleach was working its magic. A thing Adam didn't calculate was that the food would take some time to arrive so when it did, it was already time to wash out the chemicals. So instead of immediately eating, you two went back into the bathroom to finish your job.

“So you gonna tell me what you need that for? I asked for purple, not gold,” you were about to complain but Adam pushed you down on your shoulders until you were sitting on the chair you had placed there before you had started to mix the bleach. “Split dye babes, if you wanna match colors, we're gonna do it fucking right.” You liked the way he thought. So he used the golden hair dye on the left and the purple on the right side. Once the color was applied, the two of you finally got to eat.

“Remind me to let you pick my hair color every now ‘n’ then, big guy, because fuck you have taste,” you mumbled with a mouth full of sushi and a shit eating grin on your lips. “Did you ever doubt that?” his voice was playful as he raised an eyebrow at you, a silent challenge. “Maybe, I mean gold and purple? C’mon, that's clearly a you-thing.” If he could, he would've tackled you and wrestled you down onto the floor, pinning you down. But he couldn't because that would cause a fucking mess, not only on the floor but also on your head. So he didn't.

-

Well at least until you had washed it out, because the second you had turned off the sink, he wrapped his hands around your waist, lifted you up just to carry you on his shoulders like a large bag of potatoes. “The fuck?” you squeaked in surprise as Adam carried you out of the bathroom and right into your bedroom. “Adam my hair's still fucking wet!” Not that he cared. He dropped you onto the soft mattress and leaned over you within a blink and for a tiny moment you felt dizzy by how quick he had moved. “Shush bitchboy, you look absolutely fucking glorious and I take that as my sign to fuck you stupid.”

[an0thergl1tch]

Here are some sanderssides outfit headcanons because I’m gay :

Remus : Definetly had a pair of the Brendan Urie are you nasty booty shorts at some point in time. When alone this bitch either dresses like a emo slut, a toddler who decided to dress themselves for the day, a punk anarchist, or Adam Sandler, there is no in between. Janus has to convince him to put on pants when guests come over. “Who says I can’t wear converses with my dress.” Janus has to stop him from spontaneously cutting his hair or giving himself piercings so has a BUNCH of fake ones. Spends 10 minutes taking off all of his accessories. Puts in funky contacts to be edgy. Never throws old clothes out and thinks it looks punk despite there being very obviously not intentional large holes in them. Either extremely over or under dressed, If there’s a dress code, it’s ignored. Constantly wearing platforms. Definitely has tried to give himself a scar on his face because he thought it would look kickass, he no longer has access to knives. Randomly does sfx makeup to freak people the fuck out.

Janus : So much vintage wear. Definetly has a pin striped suit somewhere in his closet, dosent wear it because Virgil calls him the cat from Tom n jerry. Definetly has tea parties in renissance era dresses. Probably has one of those dramatic 60s newly widowed housewife robes that he wears while lounging with a glass of wine. Probably wore one of those androgynous suit dresses to Thomas’s prom, Roman was pissed because he looked better than him. Extremely overdressed, would wear red to a funeral. So many fucking hats, need I say more. Beauty is pain, there is no functionality, he can’t walk in half his outfits. Wears a lot of layers but actually has the excuse of being cold blooded.

Virgil : Oh so many bracelets, who gave him access to so many bracelets. Spends a solid 2 hours teasing his hair and putting makeup on every morning (this bitch is a GOD at eyeliner.) So many layers, you do not need to be wearing 3 hoodies at once. Somehow always cold despite having enough clothes on to survive in the artic. “Oh fuck one of my bracelets fell off.” Acts like he despises pink despite wearing neon pink raccoon tails during his college scene phase. Extremely underdressed unless he has the energy to dress as a Victorian vampire. Definitely experiments with goth makeup and clothing.

Patton : Its giving youth pastor. Owns every color of polo shirt. Wears aviators to look ‘hip’ and ends up looking like goose from top gun. Definetly has a leather jacket somewhere in his closet that he only wore to college parties to look cool (the obligatory dad mid life crisis leather jacket, probably worn and probably has seen some shit.) Constantly wears a tool belt or a Fanny pack, lord get this man a backpack. Had horrendous emo phase, good lord MySpace traumatized him. Definitely has a jersey and varsity jacket but actually IS into sports. Needs to get outfit tips because he will wear a polo shirt and cargo pants to every occasion. So many dad hats.

Roman : wears jerseys and varsity jackets despite not being into sports at all. Loves makeup but goes horribly every time he tries to do it on himself. Has to be held down to do eyeliner or mascara because he will NOT stop moving and complaining about you poking his eyes out. Loves being overdressed however half his wardrobe is costume pieces he pretends are high end items. So many rings and necklaces. “Buy me Prada” *is wearing thrift store jeans* Takes hours getting ready, getting dressed takes 10 minutes but he has to get his mindfulness meditation for the day in before he leaves. Definitely has a purse collection.

Logan : This dude probably has so much vintage clothing and historical pieces but is absolutely terrified to wear any of it and wrinkle anything. Has a tie collection (extremely obvious) however half of them are funky ties Patton spotted while shopping and gave to him. Has hundreds of the same shirt but tons of blazers and vests to spice things up a bit. Definitely has a collection of very high end leather shoes that he takes care of dearly and gets heavily pissed off if someone steps on them. So many cheesy nerd pun t-shirts that he wears exclusively in his room because Patton would freak the fuck out. Is tired of people calling him Steve Urkel or a newsie when he puts on suspenders. Practicality over looks, however makes a few exceptions (This bitch would look amazing in a corset.) Can run in heels and Roman is extremely jealous and terrified. Can do makeup surpisingly well.

[surferblues]

hi livy! congrats on 500💘 so honored to be mutuals i literally adore your writing! may i humbly request prompt ❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ with Austin? so excited to read 🫶🏼

careless whispers ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairings austin butler x fem!reader

warnings 18+ only, minors dni, smut, choking, degrading kink, oral (m), and obviously sexual themes (duhhh) SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG THIS WAS AT THE BOTTOM OF MY DRAFTS 😭🫣

you and austin weren't anything to each other, well, at least not romantically. to put it lightly, you were friends who messed around.

friends who messed around in secret, because, god forbid anyone knew about this dirty friends with benefits situation you and austin agreed to.

it was always the same little game. you and austin would be out with all your friends and he'd suddenly slip his rough hands under the table to rub your thigh.

causing you to slap his hand away, even though your crimson red cheeks undeniably gave you away.

but that's what he liked about the whole situation - he loved how you got flustered and soft with every single touch.

He had you completely wrapped around his finger.

the room was fairly dark, the only source of light being the luminescent neon colors from screens and led lights - but aside from that, no one at this party would see what Austin was up to.

he knew not to be too bold, anyone in here would kill for a chance to expose something so scandalous - "costars who fuck on the low!"

pfft, what a flashy headline.

the only people aware of this sudden dynamic between you and Austin were your castmates and closest friends, aside from that - your's and Austin's publicists have been working their asses off.

Austin had been slyly making his way across the room, letting out small thanks and smiles as a-listers praised his acting in elvis. although his current destination had been far more important.

you were in the corner of the room, a small smile on your pink lips and a teasing glimmer in your soft eyes. your finger tips twirling with your locks of hair as you let out fake laughter.

you were oblivious to Austin's watchful eye, you were too busy giggling at the brunette beauty who was horribly attempting to flirt.

Austin watched every movement you've made since that wannabe a-lister walked over to you. jealousy was running through his veins as that guy leaned towards you, whispering in your ear - he was too close to you.

maybe this was how you ended up in this current situation. your knees on the cold tile floor, your tongue toying with austin's thumb as he looked down at you.

"your mouth is better for so many other things than talking." Austin's tone was as rough as his grip that his cold hand had as he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You challenged, inviting him to take what he needed.

"you're just begging to be punished, aren't you ?" He cooed as you looked up at him through your long lashes, nodding.

Austin reached  down and pulled at his pants to release his hardness, and brought a hand to the back of your head, ever so roughly pushing you towards it.

"c'mon, slut, don't be shy." he husked, gripping a handful of your hair and pulling it nearly out of your scalp as he positioned your lips to be on his hard dick.

Your tongue came out, to lick and tease his tip, your eyes never leaving his. A smirk of satisfaction spread on your lips as his head threw back and incoherent curses slipped from his lips.

Austin hissed at the contact, He grabbed himself at the base, rubbing the head of his cock in a circle on your lips before lifting his hips to enter. 

“you shouldn't get so jealous." you remarked, moving your wet tongue against his member. He then eased his cock into your mouth. You couldn't't help but to let out a cry of pleasure as his hard laid heavy on your tongue . Meanwhile, he groans at the feeling of your warm wet walls surrounding his cock. He could never get enough of how you felt around him.

your hands flew to his hips for support, while his back hit the hard wall behind him for support.

Austin let out breathless chuckles in disbelief, his tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he watched you with a focused sense.

"you shouldn't have been talking to him." he said sternly in between thrust in your mouth, and breathy whimpers. you were about to pull away from his dick, to let out a snarky response. but he pulled your head towards him before you could even try.

you let out a small grunt, his dick hitting the back of your throat. you continued your work on Austin's member, hallowing your cheeks around him as your tongue danced against his now-wet, velvety skin, moaning against him.

Soft grunts were erupting from Austin as he bucked his hips to meet your head bobs, your warm cheeks and spit nearly throwing him off of the edge. Tears began to slip from your eyes as his dick went deeper and deeper with every thrust .

He quickly pulled out of your mouth, not wanting to cum just yet, roughly grasping your chin before leaning down to collide his lips with yours. you gripped his blond lock, your tongues rolling against one another roughly.

your knees began to raise up from the ground, following his lips. you pulled away, breathless whimpers slipped from both of your lips.

"I'm not wearing any underwear.. just thought you'd like to know." you suggestively whispered against his lips, both of you chest to chest. he threw his head back, a playful smile on his lips as he processed your words.

"you're going to be the death of me." he murmured, pushing you against the wall with a reckless force. he was quick and messy, this time.

he nearly ripped your dress as he bunched it up your hips, the look in his eyes seemingly so urgent.  “Do you think you deserve this?” his tone demeaning as he finally met your eyes, his finger tips barely grazing your wet clit.

you opened your lips to speak, but as soon as your lips parted Austin pushed his lips roughly against yours while his duo of ring covered pushed into you, thrusting and curling upward as he leaned up to kiss you. your tongues collided as you kissed.

you let out a groan of annoyance, tired of the teasing. "please, stop teasing austin." you begged, reaching for his fingers but he pulled them away with a sly smirk.

"oh, baby im gonna fill you up so good." he cooed, gripping your hips so hard that you were sure you were going to have bruises.

he lined his dick with your needy hole, slowly and slowly pushing his dick along your wet slit. once he finally got to your empty hole, he slammed his hips into yours with ease.

the filthy action drove you crazy, and you whined, your hand wrapping around one of his biceps as you let him settle.

It didn't hurt, but God did you feel full. he pulled out once again, following back with another thrust. he lifted up one of your legs to his waist so he could reach that sweet spot of yours.

With your legs hooked around his waist, you pushed your pelvis up to meet each thrust, the breaths coming more and more shallow as he unconsciously began to move faster and harder within you.

you placed your hand over your mouth to silence your moans, because god forbid anyone heard what was going on behind closed doors.

you squealed as austin let out a loud groan, the two of you reaching your highs together. his hips stuttered while he kept thrusting inside of you, spurring you on as you came. your cunt squeezed him with a vice grip as if it wanted to cage him in.

his head dipping in the crevice of your shoulder as his lips parted and eyes shut. you could hear the sound of your juices mixing with each lazy thrust.

"if i see him with you again, ill beat his ass." austin murmured against your skin, letting out a croaky chuckle.

but his laughter couldn't disguise his seriousness , because you knew he would.

[roboticchibitan]

Photos of the pants! The top (which I also made, tutorial coming soon) kinda clashes but oh well I am living in neon colors and loving life!

I don't like how they fit so today I spent 2 hours grading the pattern up 5 inches. They don't look horrible but I wanted something looser and more flowy. I'm going to cut out the pieces for a turquoise pair and then call it a day because I didn't sleep well last night and I took a shower today and already stood for 2 hours straight so I need to pace myself.

I told myself I wasn't going to embroider any more pants cuz these ones took forever but I've decided to embroider black stars around the hems cuz stars go really fast and then I'll take some of the black cotton/linen blend I bought earlier this month and make a crop top and embroider turquoise stars on it so I have a coordinating outfit! I plan on using any leftover materials to make some coordinating crop tops using this tutorial so that I can mix and match my brightly colored tops and pants!

I'm working hard to get a bunch of projects finished so I can excuse buying this linen

To make another pair of pants and crop top set! I'm actually going to get the 7.5 oz version because my hot pink linen is 5.5 oz and it's slightly see through so I can't wear black bras or colored underwear underneath it.

OK. Going to go cut out the turquoise pieces! Wish me luck and less back pain!

[craftyballoonwinner]

Miquella the Streamer

I love the idea of Miquella being a streamer or Instagram influencer.

FYI Pro Miquella/Radahn

Definately posts beauty tips and reviews make up lines.

Has TWO channels. One for beauty and one for games.

Plays mostly RPGs, action or dating sims.

Always looks dressed to the nines and wears a crystal headset in gold cubic zirconia (or at least they hope it's fake)

Catch phrase "if it's gold it's good" even if said item is shit in game.

Does marathons for chairty that includes games he hates (usually with Radahn or Malenia)

Leda moderates his chat and has a zero strike policy.

His icon is a chibi face with the haligtree in the back.

Goes on multiple vacations and posts videos. Always talking to someone no one can see. Chat knows it's not Malenia, he shares the video with her when she's there with Finley.

Does not date although watchers can swear he sometimes looks/ talks to a man off screen and sometimes poses sexily and jokes to said man behind the camera.

Is non binary, loves pretty dresses and soft colors.

Sometimes shows up in drag persona St. Trina with purple highlights.

Can and will drag trolls expertly.

Has depression and mommy issues.

Will review red carpets while being dressed better than the attendees.

Can have a temper. His collaboration with Godrick the Golden will go down in history as the most angry he will ever get when Godrick told him Malenia got rotted because she's unhygienic and Limegrave viewers need to get off their asses and work.

sings well but refuses to do covers.

As his popularity rises so do the stalkers. Someone called Needle Knight really freaks him out.

Takes frequent brakes for all the trips he goes on but works hard to record so online posting doesn't stop while he's away.

Drives an expensive ass car ( he accidently pulled out the keys for a Lamborghini while search for lip balm in his purse) and viewers can sometimes spot several names brand purses in the background of his streams.

Uses an office, with a glowing neon sign of his channel and several high quality action figures of his favorite game on the shelf behind him.

Goes through a horrible break up and stops streaming when some named Starscoruge publicly states they miss him in chat while he struggles to get through Dark Souls 1. Chat talked about that for months on end. Starscourge is never seen again and no one knows who they are. They theorize he was the man Miquella talks to behind the camera.

Stops streaming when university starts. Comes back three months later when he flunked out and hated it.

Things get bad, chat starts to worry about his mental health and freak out when Marika posts an update that she will be closing down his channel for the safety of his mental health.

Is surprised when he comes back a year later on a new channel with a co host. Starscoruge Radahn (who runs gym, games and health channels under his Redmane name). Malenia will fill in when he can't stream with Miquella.

[novistarplanet]

labyrinth

MafiaBoss!Tenko Shimura x F!Stripper!reader

summary: while working your regular shift one night you caught the eyes of the head mafia boss

cw:choking,unprotected sex,DUBCON,fingering,creampie,reader has a hard life :(, stripping, abandonment,mature language,some nudity,drugs, alcohol, issa lot, also hitting?

wc:3,5k words

a/n: I hope yall enjoy this! it literally took me FOREVER to finish this I enjoy this oneshot I think it's intriguing!

also if you like my work don't be shy to reblog,heart, comment and fllw Thanks!

As the neon color sign of a woman flickers from the outside loud music could be heard blasting from all sides of the illuminated building. Both men and women are filling different areas with money and looking for a one-night stand. The entrance has a long line of people, and everybody knows that the club is controlled by notorious gang members, but no one cares as long as they could find a young native woman to love on for the night.

Your "parents" abandoned you at a young age for the need for drugs, and any other "parent figures" you have come across treated you as distant as compared to their other biological children.

They jump at the offer to pay for their textbooks and any other college expenses. Yet, you were stuck here connecting with a pole every night to continue to endure your miserable life.

Leaving you to deal with college and the stress it came with. Tuition already is kicking you in the ass, being sleep-deprived, doubling, tapping it. That's why you're here, currently getting ready to do a private dance for old seniors who requested you.

They could be tolerable during their failed attempts at trying to sleep with you. Sometimes tipping extra to take shots with them but most of your clients, if you could even call them, comprise middle-aged men grabbing your ass and trying to pull your bra off.

"Don't you think you're a little too young for this?"

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be here getting dirty for men"

"CMON' sweetheart, let daddy take care of ya. "

You turns and plasters on a forced smile " Yea but a good girl takes care of herself" followed that up with a wink you seductively let your bra strap fall as the beat continues to slow down and the tempo of your hips picks up. Occasionally making eye contact mostly, you look away. The money comes in touch with your skin with a bunch of slick smirks and whistling you waved off.

The slow dance song soon cuts off as you get up and rounded up the money into your bra. Swinging your hips side to side exiting the stage as the next song emerges and a new girl goes on to perform her set on the pole. Heading towards the bar, occasionally smiling and winking, sitting down and waiting for the bartender (Hikaru) to be done serving.

Hikaru worked here for years and knew everything about the club and even met the owners. He faces you and walks your way, bottles in each hand. "ayyy Y/N, whatta you need another' shot?" putting the bottles right back on the display stand. Scanning across the selection of different color bottles about a few seconds later, you settled on a favorite of yours, pointing right at the translucent bottle directly in front of you. "ya pass me a shot of vodka ".

He turns around and pours the liquid as it fills the tiny shot glass. Swiftly sliding it over towards you, "Here kid goes easy on it, kay?" despises his warning you tilt your head back and dump the vodka down your throat. Immediately feeling the stinging hand sanitizer sensation in your throat that spreads quickly, making you release a horrible groan and twisting your face in an instant. "told should ya... shoulda listen t'me"

Once the stinging slowly disappeared, you started speaking again. "mhm, what type of bartender are you? Poisoning your clients, you need to be fired if you asked me. " You both burst into a fit of laughs. The bottle reappears in front of you again and the liquid shines as it pours into your drink.

"Looks like you got yourself some customers Waitin on ya" With a teasing tone you rotate your head around to see his point somewhere off in the distance you turn around to see what he's pointing at "I don't see nothin' ' He chuckles white teeth appearing for a quick second he raises his hand acquainted with another expensive bottle and points again you look up and that's what you see. A group of men all dressed in sloppy suits motioning you to come here.

You rise, sigh while doing so, finishing your short live break and making your way over to the group of men when unexpectedly you felt a set of warm hands grabbing onto your upper arm tugging it back slightly and a high pitch feminine voice spoke.

" Y'n said he needs you backstage!" batting her eyelashes at you and glitter smeared all over her face while her breath hinted at tropical fruitiness and a wide smile as redness appeared on her face.

Adjusting your top and shoving your wad of cash back into your top as it comes off your scoff with your reply. "He can wait. I'm busy"

You couldn't care less what that jackass wanted to do to you here for 1 thing and 1 thing. Only you'll be damned if you're out here doing side missions.

"but he said it was super important he needed you in 1 of the VIP rooms" whining still tugging your arm to follow her then she leaned in into your face and raised one of her hands to cover the side of her mouth, " He says the real REAL owners are here!" vibrant fruit smell smothering your face area in an instant eyebrow forming together in confusion as she speaks

Now everyone in the club knows Yoko isn't exactly a calm person. She's like a hyper chihuahua wagging her tail so this "whisper" wasn't exactly a whisper

"pleaseee y'nnnn I can't go up there I have a private client in a couple of minutes and, luna is in the back high again!" eyes completely forming into huge puppy eyes and sympathy fills your body rapidly as you speak before thinking "fine, but you owe me huge for this"

a big grin floods her face, jumping up and now as her 6-inch heels make a clicking sound each time her titties jiggle with each jump motion "Cmon now! He said he wants you there NOW!" In a quick flash you're being dragged towards a dark beige elevator and the last thing you hear is Hikaru.

"Good luck in their kid' you gunna need it" a wide shit-eating grin emerging on his face

Well, you think it is elevator doors quickly shutting and the more your anxiety displayed buttons glowing yellow as on the tiny screen with each floor passing runs wild. You heard a lot of things about the owner, none of them good things from them laundering drugs to ordering hits to be taking place in the club and-

DING DING DING

the elevator doors open and it greeted you with the sight of your boss (boss name) grabbing your arm and shoving Yoko in the process with a loud "huff" sending her back into the small room with the door quickly closing in front of her

"wait yo-" "enough of that. We gotta get you in here quick" as the both of you speed walk you couldn't help but notice the interior of the room you were in.

A gold chandelier hangs from the top of the ceiling, with multiple paintings of naked pictures of women in various positions. Lights that dressed every area in the room weren't the kind downstairs. No, these were the type that subtlety blended into it and didn't hurt to see when to stare at them for too long

Everything was so polished, even the floor was spotless. Now to think about it, you had been walking for a very lo-

"Okay listen to me if you fuck up even once you're the only one with enough experience Yoko is a bird Brain as well as she can't even walk in her heels and Hana can't even count to 10 and most of the other girls are new and still in training your the only one who has enough, to do this." He rants.

he eyes piercing into your soul for a response,

anxiety once again pierced through you as you mumble a yes before you can even agree to what you're saying

"Great!" a smile suddenly plastering on his face, immensely shifting his mood "Oh yeah, just to be clear if you mess up even once you'll have the boys take care of ya"

What the hell is this pep talk?

"Okay bye Y'n" waving at you and leaving in the process

'WAIT WHA-"

--------

"Okay OKAY you got this just go out there and dance you do it every single day" you whisper to yourself

you open the door slowly making a sound of a creep peeking in and pushing your forehead in trying to get a good image of the man surrounding the booth.

One had velvety soft silky white hair, the kind that was inside the expensive pillows, the ones that they have publicly displayed at Macy's. Escorting his features were 2 arms filled with tattoos, some of samurai's and others of Maneki Nekos, but he had delicate freckles that sprinkled his face with a strong contour nose.

The other man was dressed up in all-black clothing with a large top hat. You really couldn't identify his features because of the large white mask he was wearing but you could tell he was sexy as he let out a low deep laugh with the other white blonde male with outgrown facial hair over his face.

Now deep inside you purr. Maybe this isn't so bad now.

"tch twice where the hell is my drink?" suddenly a profounded voice made an appearance you couldn't help but drop your mouth at.

The tall man had gray, pale skin covered in scratches and beauty marks, with one being very present below his lip. A large succulent scar decorated the top of the other side. Shabby blue unkempt locs cover his crimson eyes.

Now it's time to put on your big girl panties and do it.

You open the door and you take in what you see. The men didn't promptly notice. you at first. They were too busy with servants walking around with bottles of alcohol and food being brought in and taken out.

Voices blended to create one loud noise, overshadowing the music itself

Well, here goes nothing

Bracing yourself, you walk up onto the stage and dance. Everything around you got. Quiet. You can tell all their focus was. On you now, you could finally hear the music and match your movements to the rhythm of the beat.

as you keep your concentration on the pole and the music you look out at the part of the couch where the man was surrounded and noticed the tall man staring at you immediately his crimson eyes contacting yours as he licked his lips his wandering eyes trailing up and down your body out the most definitely have to ask about you later.

Drawing him out of your mindset.

Just don't focus on him. He's not there

he whistles towards you slowly, raising his long finger and motioning you to come to him.

You ignored him and kept dancing. Your leg wraps around the pole. Your arms pull your body. Up well your other arms support your body achieving a very complex move complex but sexy move.

Just as you lower your body to shake your ass to the music, someone pulls you down from the stage and another girl replaces you.

"hey put me down!!!"

hitting this person's chest and kicking your legs just as a toddler would throw a tantrum and struggling in this tightness feeling each step being taken down.

"I said put me DOWN!"

"you're never gonna stop bitching, are you?"

gradually looking up realizing He was carrying you from the stage abruptly his grip on you became tighter and tighter

It was a pregnant moment of silence. He deadpans for the moment no words are spoken between you two.

He stares at you and you stare back, focusing on his handsome features. Multiple brown little moles are present across his face like a constellation, tiny little scars and scratches here and there on his face, and a tattoo that covers his neck portraying Adam's apple as it bobs slightly.

"So is that a yes?" he sounds bored and unimpressed. You can physically feel the tension rising between you too.

"Wait huh?" your eyebrows start to knit together, scouring his face for a clear answer.

"I asked if you wanted to fuck or not," so nonchalantly glaring at you for a moment with no remorse just like y'all have met before.

you couldn't lie you were turned on by all the dominant aura he was spilling just from his hand gripping your right booty cheek and his breath doused with hints of cognac.

"Yes"

the words leaving your lips in a trance staring here at this unknown man right in front of you wanting to fill your hunger.

he plunged his lips onto yours in a fast and tender way, his tongue breaking the closed force within your lips directly finding your tongue wrapping around it while his hand crawls towards the back of your head and smashes it

it was sloppy and messy but you loved it

ripping apart, leaving strands long of clear saliva hanging unhitch breathing, trying to end its momentum.

This was chaotic.

-----------

"HEY SHIG THEY BOUGHT THE DRINK YOU ASKED FOR" The same blonde male with a scar crossed down his face reappears drinks in hand and a drunkenly smile plastered on his face

His head shakes in response. His nose scrunches with annoyance and distaste

"but you sai-"

THUD

slamming the door mid-sentence mumbling something under his breath about how much there were idiots unexpectedly facing your eyes, lighting up with amusement

strong arms wrapping around your waist lifting you into his hands

For the short time you have known him you realize he's stubborn and insists on carrying you regardless of your protests about how heavy you are.

even though you're more than capable of using your own two legs.

as the two of you walked well one you noticed Short wrinkle structures forming in the middle of his eyebrows as he grumbled something about you being heavy

However, you still let him carry you away. You placed your head on his chest listening to his even heartbeats

looking back up at him, maybe you can help him relax a bit?

your hands trailing across his chest, traveling upwards to his neck, placing small kisses on his jaw snuggling into his neck

"Don't tease or else you'll pay," his voice sounds condescending. He instantly grabs your hand and stops your advances

"Oh and why is that?" holding back your giggle as you look up at him calling his bluff

he stops in his direction and slowly looks down at you

"If you don't stop acting like a goddamn brat, imma fuck you like one" the profound growling voice with bass backup in his tone making you shiver

heat pools towards the bottom of your legs causing you to grind your legs together.

despite all the teasing, you're here in one of the private rooms

blinking rapidly at the new environment turning your head around to get a good view. It was very similar to the hallways with multiple women naked but this time engaging in sex acts.

The bed had pretty big red covers and shiny white smooth sheets probably made of 1000 thread counts of Egyptian cotton along with a bed white headboard.

abrupt yelp rips through your throat when you realize you are no longer in his tough embrace your currently in the air landing in the bed with a loud

THUD!

"what in the hell was that for?" attempting to even your bumpy breathing "What is wrong with him!?!?!?"

a slow sinister smile creeps on his face as removes his shirt and crouches his body making eye-level contact with you

"i'll show you how bad girls get punished "

"HUH"

hands quickly going under the back thigh raising them and taking a dive into your sweet folds heavy breaths against your heat as his tongue shimmies into your pussy like a caterpillar crawling into his cocoon

"mhmm"

hearing your sweet voice moan out in pleasure as your long white acrylics go falling into his forest of blue messy locs like velcro sticking to cotton tilting back various sounds of moans fanning out

sandwiching in between your soft thighs leaving bite marks each time you jerk your body using his hands to spread your legs to the farthest they can go while keeping you in place

this wasn't supposed to happen you were supposed to come to work, dance, and make money not fuck some stranger in the private rooms

"so fuckin good for me y/n wanting to please your master, huh?"

your eyes busting open looking at him with confusion

"how in the hell did he know your name????"

He consumes you whole during a short time drinking your wetness like he was a starving man in the savanna gliding his tongue across your delicate pussy taking his time to spell out his name until his pouty pink lips come across your soft puffy clit like a pirate finding his treasure

"damn princess we really gonna have some fun now" focusing all his attention towards your clit swirling and sucking on the swollen bud taking two of his fingers and shoving them in your feeding them into you swirling them around in you letting you accept his long girth. Clear liquid trickles downward to your cheeks.

he can't help himself painting his tongue all over you putting his head away and looking at the masterpiece he's made of you. drooling all over, legs twitching, and gasping for air, your lower bottom half cramping up with an orgasm.

you bring your hands up desperately trying to move all the strands of hair wet with sweat

he pulls away looking down at your messy pussy getting up from the bed as his hands leave the warmth of your body

"Hey! " feeling the once powerful orgasm pressed against you rapidly fading away using your elbows to raise your limp body up

you stopped in your tracks noticing he wasn't leaving

He was getting ready.

His pants are degraded on the floor as he gets onto the bed crawling towards your sprawled-out body on the bed.

he leans in into your face you can hear his rough uneven breathing

"Can I hit you?"

you nodded

then he took your chin into his hand squeezing tightly redirecting your head to look him in his eyes

"open your mouth and say you understand"

"yes"

"Yes, what?" your chin still in his warm palms this time squeezing harder and shaking it

"yes you can hit me"

without a warning, he lets go of your chin and lets his hands encircle your throat

taking his other hand and wrapping it around his hard, throbbing cock, his eyes concentrating on your wet pussy. the tip of his cock was an enraged pink a hot pink and throbbing against your heat

he guided his cock slowly against your slit up and down and down and up all around rubbing the tip against the bundle of sensitive nerves

shit how was that thing going to fit inside you

All thoughts were pushed aside when you felt an intrusion entering your gummy walls, his hands going back to your clit rubbing at a much faster pace than before easing himself inch by inch watching your fat pussy take him in.

“P-please,” blinking away the tears through your eyelashes causing them to blur up your vision

"oh? So this is what you want" His hips slap into you causing a wave of pleasure to come through your body. "your such a good whore taking me all nicely"

His lewd words caused your pussy to clench around him embracing his length as it accepted his thrusts. His muffled moans and the rhythm of his hips begin to build up inside your tummy again

as a ring of white at the base of his cock formed and begins to spread as he enters in and out slapping you out of your thoughts and leaning in “Make eye contact with me”

you were taking deep breaths feeling another organism creep up

“Too much” You put your hands on the wrinkled bed sheets trying to push up your body and wiggling your hips from under him. attempting to run away.

“ah ah, you’re supposed to be looking at me.” pulling your hands down again as his cock makes a "pap" "pap" sounds as it bangs against your abused cunt

His thrusts get sloppier and uneven you can tell he was getting close you both are

your walls clenching tightly forcing his cock to twitch inside of you feeling him emptying himself inside of you hot cum creeping out your abused pussy in its disheveled state

“shit my bad I got carried away”

[huevobuevo]

Late ass FUCK and a HORRIBLE time to be posting but you would NOT BELIEVE which pairing I drew again .

I think‼️ there’s alotta potential ‼️ in Monte D’or’s‼️ midnight neon lighting‼️ that I need to EXPLOIT‼️sorry if it’s kinda sillay lookin I’m . still practicin playin with colors

[COMMISSIONS OPENbecause I keep forgetting to advertise that FUCK]

[chris-continues]

A Strange Encounter…

Loading…

Cyberpunk Edgerunners AU (Trigun)

Vash The Stampede/Reader

WORD COUNT: 740

Synopsis: you encounter a strange man amidst the bar you lounge around. He gives you a job offer..

The usual thrum of boisterous customers fills the Afterlife, the staccato tapping of your nails against the counter is partly what keeps you sane. The buzzing of the overheard lights, drunkards wrapping their arms around unsuspecting individuals,

Yet here you were. Alone.

Bass boosts with boisterous fun, some small girl causing a racket in showcasing the newest chrome in exchange for excited jeers and cheers of some sleazy men she’d catch the attention of.

“..poor thing, you know?”

A man sits at the barstool beside you, blonde hair tinged to different shades under the colored lighting of the club. A royal blue, as of now. His eyelashes flutter as his head cocks over to the girl, his eyes trailing after your previous gaze.

“Eh”, you shrug, “It’s how things are. Surely, you should know that?” You can feel your voice edging further into a drawl, observing him more. Big red jacket, large collar. Pretty plain. He’s a relatively organic guy save for his bionic arm, the ports available at his neck standard with no crazy enhancers. “Or.. not.” Your eyebrows furrow at this revelation.

He chuckles at that, “Haha, maybe!” Hand moving to scratch the scruff of his neck, ruffling his undercut in practiced fidgeting. “..just, tryna start something.” His gaze drifted from the sad, lone cup he held and up to you once more, brandishing a look you couldn’t quite place.

Something’s off about him.

You aren’t sure what.

…you can’t quite place.

A stagnant pause fills the gap in your sad excuse of a conversation. Words didn’t hold much value here, that was a common fact. Business did. Missions did. Money did. Take action, not a lame deal or quirky promise.

“Something?” You turn to him more, his previously despondent, solemn gaze flickering once more. Mirroring the neon lights surrounding every which way of the bar, reflecting in its pulsing energy that filled Night City as a whole. He piques your curiosity. Despite his lack of chrome and rather.. not immature qualities, but something remains. No guns blazing machine gun, gone crazy potential cyber psycho- just a guy.

He perks up noticeably, continuing. “Yeah! Got a few pals, and we’ve heard some of your work is… good..?” He trails off once more, gauging you for a reaction.

A job offer. Your eyes blink, fingers drumming against your leg as you take it into consideration. Work had been running low for you recently and you probably needed the gig, and.. the guy didn’t seem to untrustworthy. His hair shone a slight red with the change in hue of the lights, sweet smile painting his lips as his warm eyes looked to you expectantly. “I know it’s a bit much, but we’ve been looking into you for a few weeks and.. yeah.” He ends awkwardly, clearing his throat and turning his gaze elsewhere momentarily.

Well, there’s nothing better for you,

“I may as well. Sure.” You extend a hand in a formality here- a handshake- a sign of trust, perhaps, as he eagerly takes your hand in his and beams with a sort of ecstatic expression that’s rare here.

Strange. But not.. not entirely unwelcome.

“Great to hear! I’ll see you here tomorrow..?” He fidgets with his hands once more, holding them up to explain himself further in a slight panic, “Ah- they’re not all here today. We gotta call a bit ahead of time sometimes for hanging out here.”

Mm. Fair enough.

In Night City, everything was constantly moving. A never ending, unpredictable and most definitely not merciful cycle of perpetual turmoil and terror that consumed every resident. Desensitized.

What you were to be called for? That was probably no different. You worked as a getaway driver for said operations, having installed a built in nav system for yourself thanks to your absolutely horrible sense of direction beforehand- it took some saving up and not so legal deeds, but who really cared about the law down here anyway? In order to truly survive a few rules had to be broken, and you never… truly harmed anyone. Directly, at least. You minded your business and clients minded theirs, teammates minded theirs. There was no need to pry, that much was a lesson to be had for anyone who question such.

“Details coming in tomorrow?” And eddies, hopefully, you thought to yourself.

He nodded, smile turning sheepish. “I’ll uh, I’ll leave you be for now.”

And then he excused himself once more.

[aikuse]

-> i really wanna stay at your house | 2,290 words. character x character, reincarnation au, smoking, angst, heavy canonical spoilers, implied character death, brief mentions of office life.

author’s notes: i have no words other than i cried a lot while writing this. this has been in my notes for almost a whole year! and is finally ready to grace the archive and the tumblr dash. i heavily recommend watching this show if you can. so much contained in only ten episodes…i can’t speak well of it enough.

-> archive of our own link (available to ao3 users only)

Man, she really needed a smoke.

Lucy races up to the rooftop, feet pattering against concrete as she opens the door to the outside. The cold air hits her skin with a slap, gooseflesh rising all over her as she pulls her coat closer around her with a shiver. There’s a thin sheet of snow drifting down from the cloudy sky, and the city around her is muffled by the slowly piling flakes.

She struts across the rooftop, ignoring the stacked chairs and choosing to go right to the end, sitting on top of one of the benches. Her legs lay off of the edge of the building, feet kicking in the open air as she pulls out her cigarettes. The flash of warmth from her lighter combined with the menthol hitting the back of her throat has her sighing, leaning back on her palms and looking up at the sky.

She thinks of a different time, of a different rooftop in a different era. So much has changed since then; even she doesn’t always remember what happened to everyone, including herself. She recalls in flashes; seeing a different bathtub than she lounges in nowadays, something heavy attached to the back of her head. Code breaks through her vision sometimes, numbers and letters and jargon that she doesn’t understand, the knowledge long-lost. It’s all in red too, always in red.

She hates the color red.

She takes another pull, the nicotine flooding her lungs and giving her more relief with every passing moment. The moon is above her; she doesn’t look up at it. There’s something about it that scares her, because if she does, she might remember something. It’s this horrible aching feeling in her chest, of knowing she’s lost something but doesn’t know exactly what.

It must have been special if I feel like this.

She swings her legs again from where she sits. The building is so tall…twenty stories above the light rail that’s zipping across the city in a silent venture, the snow muffling its noise. Tokyo is pretty at this time of night, lights blinking so far beneath her, the vantage point making her look closer to the moon than the earth upon which she sits.

There’s crunches behind her, of someone’s boots landing in the freshly laden snow. Lucy turns her head, expecting one of the normal tenants to be joining her. There’s a few people she recognizes from the office, along with some older folks who need to find relief in their coveted cigars they’ll tell stories about sourcing from.

It’s neither.

It’s…

It’s him.

So much happens in the span of time it takes the man to approach her and move next to her. Lucy’s brain feels like it’s on fire, her chest tight as she grips her cigarette like a lifeline. Flashes of her old life flicker across her vision, the man’s shape changing into one much shorter, much younger, with a neon-yellow jacket that’s too large for him and a smile that shows too many teeth. His hands are in his pockets, stuffed deeply inside just like he used to.

Brighter eyes, too. Not dull like they are now.

She does her best to contain her sudden panic, quickly looking away from him and anywhere but him as he reaches into his jacket pocket. He rifles through his jacket for something, a grin stretching across his face as he finds his own lighter and pack of cigarettes. The sticks in question are all white with a black filter; there’s a gold wrapping connecting the halves together. It looks like it would taste strange; smokier, more masculine in its own way.

But Lucy can’t even focus on the cigarettes themselves.

She can’t focus on anything else.

She simply watches him, in horror as David brings the stick to his lips, five o’clock shadow covering his chin.

He smokes now.

His hands rest against the balcony’s edge as he looks over the city skyline. The lights, although dimmed by the snow, are so bright against his brown eyes. Full of life despite his inability to care for his facial hair. Her chest feels so tight, tighter than ever as she finishes off her own cigarette, hopping down—

“Hey.”

She stops immediately, turning around and looking at him square in the face. This version of him is tall, not as bulky as he used to be thanks to the implants that threatened to break his bones. However, this time, his frame isn’t sharp; it’s smooth, structured, so much less in pain. Here, his skin is smooth, untainted barring a few tattoos curling across his skin, poking above the neckline of his sweater and extending down across the tops of his hands.

Although, she doesn’t miss the glint in his eyes that she remembers falling in love with an eon ago.

He’s the same.

But different.

He doesn’t say anything more, so she manages to get out a “hi” before she’s attempting to turn away from him. He’s so close to her, when did he get that close to her? She jumps as his hand wraps around her arm, and there’s something in his eyes that’s shifted. There’s something knowing there, and she’s praying that he’s not having flashbacks like she did. Like she’s having right now, seeing blood dripping down the side of his face, eyes crazed, mouth ajar while he yells for his mother, seeing someone who isn’t there—

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

She doesn’t look at him. She can’t. It’s written on her face, she can feel the downturning of her lips and the tears pricking at her eyes. Instead, she looks up at the moon. So big, so bright, so far away. The moon doesn’t need to worry about taxes, or rent, or getting a job, or any of the bullshit that adult life has brought her.

It simply appears at night, like clockwork, without fail; basking the world in shades of silver and white.

“What do you mean?” she answers. She plays coy.

Does he know what gravity that sentence holds?

He scoffs, releasing her arm. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Another chance to come together and recall forgotten. Lucy tells herself it’s better that way. It’s better to forget, to move on, to not rehash the past. What’s it going to do? Remind her of everything that happened that she’d soon pull out of her own brain like a growing weed?

David’s funny in the office.

She quickly discovers that they’ve been working for the same company for months; they’ve just never needed to cross paths, because why would they have? Apparently he’d just gotten promoted onto her floor, working under Maine. It’s ironic, really, thinking about how she seems to remember her fellow employees but none seem to remember her. She’s not sure if that’s fully the truth, though. She’s seen the way Maine’s eyes glaze over sometimes. Like he’s recalling something painful when he looks at her.

David, despite his organizational tact (which is something he did not have before), is clearly not built for office life. It’s written all over his face as he sits in his cubicle, munching on the sandwich he’d made himself.

Here, his only worries are Rebecca stealing the stapler off of his desk without asking. It’s the coffee machine running out of his favorite instant coffee cups. It’s the printer smelling his fear and failing to work when he’s rushing to an executive meeting. It’s so mundane that Lucy can’t help but laugh about it.

It’s so, so far from the life they’d lived before. The hard life he had lived before; she’d made peace with her own, but God, she doesn’t miss watching him spiral in front of her. Knowing that it was her fault, introducing him to this life so soon after his mother died right in front of him. It was her responsibility to shoulder that pain.

Her cross to bear, funnily enough.

There’s glances he gives her every once in a while, though. The old David appears in those moments, however fleeting. Her photographic memory holds them in time like a Polaroid, slipping them into an album that’s shoved into the back of her brain. A place she only goes when she’s at her limits, both mentally and physically.

He comes by her office often, leaning on the glass with his arms crossed in front of him. The office shirts he wears have ridiculously loud prints on them; all yellow and blue, just like his old jacket. She swears when he turns and walks away, she can envision the symbol on the back of his jacket sometimes.

She rubbed her eyes for a while after that to remove the picture from her brain, and went back to working, nails tapping against the keys to distract her from the feeling welling up in her chest.

Regret.

It’s at six months that she finally lets go.

They’re up on the rooftop, smoking together, a bottle of shitty wine shared between the two of them. It’s almost empty, and Lucy’s vision is hazy as she looks over at David.

He’s in a tank top this time, his muscles curving nicely underneath the light fabric. Tokyo’s going through a heat wave right now, and the thin sheen of sweat on his skin glints in the moonlight, silver specks across his form as he looks over at her. There’s a faint redness on his cheeks from the wine as he sloppily grins.

“What are you thinking about?”

His voice is so much smoother than she remembers. Deeper, too, almost raspy. Then again, it’s not like he made it past nineteen the last time she saw him. She shakes her head, smiling at him gently as she takes another rip off her menthol.

“Nothing important.”

He chuckles. It’s dark.

“You always seem so lost in your own head. Must have a lot going on, huh?”

Oh, that’s close. That’s too close to the truth, really. “Sort of,” she chooses to respond, attempting to keep the cryptic air around her tight, like a cloak. Like a safety net. She looks up at the moon as she does so, tilting her head, and—

“Oh.”

Something shifts in the air, so quickly that Lucy herself can’t stop it, couldn’t bear to as she feels him reach out to her. His hand lands on her shoulder, but it feels a mile away as she begins to shake, tears threatening to finally drift down her cheeks as she bites her lip.

She can’t stop it anymore. She can’t hold back the memories.

“I never forgot how happy you looked when we were up there, you know.”

She nods to the moon’s face as she does so, and risks a look at David.

She’s expecting anything but what she finds; she’s anticipating fear, horror, confusion, even resentment to come flooding across his face. But instead, she discovers quite the opposite.

Relief.

He sighs, thumb drifting across the soft skin of her shoulder as he scoots closer. He moves his hand up to her chin, forcing her to look at him as she jumps, feeling the electricity between the two of them. She can’t stop the tears; they’re already falling as he just looks at her. He doesn’t say anything, and it’s eating at her.

What the fuck.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

It comes out as a croak, and he chuckles again, fingers gently brushing circles onto her chin.

“So you do remember.”

If the world had ended right then and there, Lucy would have been happy. She would have been satisfied, with knowing David did remember, but also tearing her heart out of her chest in the fearful understanding that he remembered. What did he remember? Did he remember his death? The way he’d looked at her before he went to face off against Adam Smasher? The way he’d blundered into every situation he’d gotten into and leaned on a toxic body modification to help him avenge his mother?

“All of it.”

“W-What?”

“All of it.” He repeats himself. “You asked me what I remembered, and I remember all of it.”

His face is blurry. The tears are flooding down her cheeks now as Lucy chokes out a sob, because she can’t sit next to him anymore. Instead, she leans into him, ready to crawl to him. Because he’s back with her, he’s here, undamaged, unscathed, big shoulders and cocky grin and raucous laughter and everything that made him David.

Everything she had missed. It felt like a piece of her chest, the aching part she could never fully understand, was filled.

“I missed you,” she manages to say against the thin fabric of his tank top. His fingers are larger, carding through her hair, nails able to dig into her scalp as he coos at her.

“I missed you too. So fucking much. More than I will ever understand.”

They sit like that for a long time, Lucy sobbing into his shirt, and David resting his chin on her head. The sobs quiet into hiccups and sighs, and then she finally arises, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. “It’s too bad,” she says, out of context, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Too bad for what?”

She points to the moon, the fullness shining down on them. Was it brighter than before? Did it feel brighter now that it’s watching it’s two halves find each other again?

“We’ll never be able to go back there, you know. Not here, at least.”

His eyes glimmer as he responds, her body light in his hands.

“Why would I want to? I got my moon right here in front of me.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @interstellar-inn @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

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