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asdfghjklartblog · 10 days ago

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Confessions of a Rotten Girl

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3

TW: Neglect and slight gore

So I finished this A LOT faster than I anticipated. But I was kinda obsessed with writing more so I just kept writing. Anyways have fun! Happy reading! It’s around 6.2k words so sit back and relax! Also Luke is probably ooc but like, I will definitely try to do better about that in the future.

Living here is… Rough to say the least. Not long after being introduced and dumped onto Bruce’s lap, you were put into a preschool. So not only were you in an unfamiliar home, but you were also going through new experiences, while trying to accept that your Daddy was gone.

On top of that you and Dick don’t really get along, and you’re not sure if the two of you ever will. If the two of you aren’t fighting you two are outright avoiding each other. But you were able to piece together enough information to find out why he was so angry all the time! He also lost his parents. So, you tried to bond with him over that. However this was a terrible idea, but you were also 5, and you just wanted to bond with the stupid boy. It isn’t much of a surprise that the two of you ended up on the floor pulling at each other’s hair and hitting anywhere the two of you could reach. The two of you were just duking it out for less than a minute before Alfred catches you two and scolds you with all his might. After that the two of you avoided each other like the plague, only interacting with each other when necessary, like during galas.

Bruce wasn’t much better, he was cold to you. He never talked to you and would only interact with you during social events like galas. It hurts to see that your father didn’t want anything to do with you but it would be fine. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

What hurt the most however was seeing the two of them happy. You had heard from Alfred that initially Bruce and Dick didn’t have a good relationship either and kept getting on each other’s nerves. Bruce’s seriousness and Dick’s sassiness didn’t really go together. At least not at first, but you guess that eventually Dick grew on him, and now you see Dick smiling and talking about all the things he accomplished and the latest drama at school, while Bruce listened fondly. You sigh wishing you also had someone that cared about you just as much as Bruce cares about Dick. You wish you could bring back the person that did do that.

At least in preschool you had someone that cared about you, his name was Eric and he had fluffy brown hair and green eyes with freckles dusting his skin. He was your best friend, he invited you to sleep overs, showed you his collection of dinosaurs, shared the treats that his mom packed. You two were partners in crime. So it was heart breaking when he just stopped talking to you when you guys went into first grade. But you made more friends, at least you think they’re friends? They’re kinda mean, but they spend time with you and laugh with you when you make mistakes. But they never invite you to their birthday parties and always say such mean things.

You mention this to Luke one day when he comes to visit and he is immediately pissed. He then looks at you and says. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, next time they’re making you feel bad? Bite them, lick their hand, say something hurtful, whatever. What’s important is that you gotta fight back y/n. Only pussies take it lying down.”

You look up at him and ask. “What’s ‘pussies’?”

He cringes when he realises his mistake. “Don’t worry about it y/n. Just do what I say.”

You did as he said. The next time one of your friends was being mean, you yelled at them. “Only pussies take it lying down!”

Which made some of the older kids at the playground gasp as the girl that was being mean to you yells. “What does that even mean?!” And although neither of you knew what it means, you both new is was some kind of insult.

She then pounces on you like a cat, trying to scratch and hit you. The two of you tussle in the playground, and the teachers that were lazily talking were now rushing toward you and the girl. It takes about 5 adults to try and pry the two of you apart, and in the crossfire the teachers were also scratched and bitten.

It’s not a surprise that Bruce and the girl’s parents are called right after. You and Bruce sit next to each other as the two of you wait outside the office. After minutes of just silence he sighs and looks at you, disappointed. “Why did you do this, and who said violence was the right answer?”

You look at him, annoyed and confused as to why you’re the one in trouble. “Well, she was the one who jumped onto me like some evil cat.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at you and says. “It doesn’t matter who did it. You can’t just fight someone like that, you have to talk through-”

You look at him as if he’s insane and reply. “She came after ME! What was I supposed to do? I could’ve been a lot more hurt like that! I had to fight back!”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before saying. “Yeah? Was it also ‘fighting back’ when you tried to push her down the stairs?”

You gasp at what Bruce is implying and replies. “She is such a liar! I did not push her that was her own fat feet’s fault! She started it!”

Bruce stands up suddenly and rubs his temples before saying. “Y/n. You will apologise to her and you will mean it. Do you understand me?”

You try to argue saying that it really wasn’t- okay some of it was your fault but not all of it! “But I’m not lying she really did-“

Bruce then crosses his arms and stares you down before saying. “I said, do you understand me y/n.”

You then look down to your feet and nod, tears welling up in your eyes. When the girl’s parents come out with a disgruntled look on their faces. They try to scold you for being so rough with their ‘precious’ Amelie who had a smug look on her face. However you’re not really listening as your mind drifts off, imagining how you could tear her apart. Bruce then makes a coughing noise as a reminder to pay attention and nudges you forward. You sigh and look at Amelie who still has that smug smile on her face before Bruce says to you. “Go on. Apologise.”

You look at her straight in the eye before saying. “I’m sorry… That you’re so DUMB! You should go-“

Bruce clasps a hand over your mouth and smiles at the parents as he says. “She’s usually not like this.” He then whispers Into your ear. “If you don’t apologise, you WILL be grounded with no screen time.”

You send a glare his way before looking back to the girl. However as you look her you’re your face turns into one of shock as the girl, which you now know as Amelie, which is a STUPID name by the way. She isn’t even French, she’s just regularly stuck up. Anyways she starts crying crocodile tears as she says. “Why are you so mean? I just wanted to get to know you… I’m sorry.”

You don’t care at this point. Not about the situation, you still care about that. But you don’t care what Bruce will think or would do. No matter what, this girl is going down. You bite Bruce’s hand hard and he hisses in pain while he recoils. You then charge at Amelie and punch her in the face, her parents and Bruce look on in complete shock. She falls on her butt, and she looks at you surprised that you had the nerve to actually do that. Her nose then starts to bleed as real tears start to spill from her eyes.

Needless to say, both Bruce and Alfred were incredibly pissed. But you were proud of yourself, and that’s all that mattered. Well, it also helped that Luke was also very proud of you, in fact, he was so proud that he took you out for a day at the arcade! Under the false pretence that he would take you to the library to study. Bruce and Alfred had absolutely no idea. You had so much fun that day, you played all kinds of games with him and then he took you to Batburger!

He then took you back home but you wanted to spend more time with him, so you begged him to tuck you in and read you a bed time story. He then looks at you confused and asks. “Does Bruce or Alfred not tuck you in?” When you reply with a confused little no, he looks at you with both frustration and sadness. He then picks you up and says with a small smile. “I’ll read you anything and everything you want, I’ll stay with you until your asleep. I’ll make you that hot chocolate that my mom makes o-or some hot milk. Whatever you want.” You break into a wide smile and hug him back tightly as you start to talk about whatever comes to mind. But you notice that there’s a glint of sadness that he’s trying to hide as he does everything he promised he would do. You don’t understand why, but you can tell by the way he tucks you in and reads you stories that he cares for you. And that makes you a little less scared.

After that day, no one in school messed with you. Which you were happy about but… You were still alone. You were still lonely. Your dad probably thinks you’re annoying. Just like Dick. You really wonder what’s going on in their heads, Dick acts like he’s like the nicest person in the whole world. So chipper and everything, it’s super annoying. It’s even more annoying that whenever you try to talk to him, even if you’re just trying to ask him to get you the ice cream in the freezer cause you can’t reach, he acts like you’re asking him to turn back time and watch his parents die. Bruce you just don’t understand, he’s rude and gruff with you. But sometimes you catch him staring. You’re not sure why but every time you do, you see both annoyance and some kind of deeper emotion that you aren’t sure about.

You sigh as you lie down on your bed snuggling into the fluffy duvet and nuzzle the pillow. Earlier you had a fight with Alfred about your grades, they were getting worse. You’re not sure why but you feel tired almost all the time and you can’t bring yourself to care about anything, even if it’s something you like. It’s been really stressful and you don’t know what to do. Alfred’s always busy so he can’t help you, Luke is also pretty busy but he does his best to make time for you but he’s also got his own life, and you don’t wanna take him away from that. And no one would tutor you because rumours spread that you were some vile little beast. Probably because of Amelie and her parents.

You tear up and hold Ollie close to your chest. You whisper to it. “You won’t leave me right? You won’t ignore or hate me right?” It says nothing. Most likely because it is a plushie. You raise its wing and pat your head with it. Pretending that you’re still with Daddy, that it was one of those weekend nights, and you were watching a movie together. He would be petting your head as you laid your head on his lap. You’d do anything to have that again.

That night you have a dream. A strange one. Unlike any dream you’ve had before. You wake up on a beach, with the moon, full and high above the sea. Everything felt so real, the cool waters the wet sand sticking to your feet. You turn to look behind you to see a cave carved into the cliffside. You watch as a giant owl emerge, then it starts charging at you. You hurriedly try to wade through the water but it feels… wrong. Before you could figure out why you’re being pulled to the depths of the ocean as you try to scream and shake off the thing that’s dragging you down.

You wake up in the middle of the night panicked and heaving, you run to your private bathroom and collapse by the edge of the tub. Coughing up water, tears spring from your eyes, as you almost cough up a pint or more of water. When you finish you cling to the side of the tub sobbing as you do so. To make things worse, you see that you’re bleeding, you pull down your shirt to see three dots in the form of a small triangle in the middle of your chest. The circles are perfect and it looks like you were stabbed with something as thick as a pencil. Honestly, you’re so tired and sleepy that you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

You go downstairs as you note the time, 3 AM. You go to the kitchen and you are faced with Batman making something on the stove and Robin bouncing on his heels. You stand there, silently for at least a minute before you just go back to bed. Your original plan of going to the kitchen to sneaking some milk and cookies for you, abandoned just like that. You’re obviously seeing things and it would be better to just go to sleep. So without changing your bloody shirt or getting any comfort whatsoever you lie there until daylight comes.

That day you were exhausted, you were practically falling asleep in class and the wounds on your chest kept bleeding for some reason so you haphazardly taped paper towels to your chest. You didn’t know who to talk to, whether it was okay to talk to someone. So when you finally got home from school, you asked Alfred if you could call Luke. But he said that he didn’t know Luke’s phone number but he did have Lucius’s and that he’d ask. “Who the hell is Lucius.” You ask, confused as to why he’s bringing in a whole new person you don’t know into the fringe. He chuckles as he says. “Lucius is Luke’s Father. You met him the first day you came here.”

You think for a moment before you start to remember him. “Oh, the nice black man?”

Alfred nods and then goes to the home phone in the living room and calls Lucius. He then passes you the phone and goes back to work. You panic, the last time you handled a phone call was when your father died. When Lucius picks up you yelp and before he can say anything you hang up. You then stay there panicked waiting for something to happen. You yelp again when it rings. Your hands shake and you start to get sweaty, you take deep breaths and do your best to calm yourself down before picking up the phone again. Before you can speak you hear Luke saying. “Hello, my father can’t come to the phone right now, he’s currently in a meeting. If you’d like you could call again later or I could tell him to call you ba-“

You interrupt and nervously say. “Hi Luke. Um. Can I-“

He interrupts you too in his excitement and says. “Oh, hey y/n! How’s my favourite Wayne doing? You alright? I just came back from university, it’s a lot of work but it’s fun, I guess. Uh, I can swing by and pick you up? We could go get some Batburger or something? Or you can come to my place and I can show you some more boxing-“

You start to tear up, you can feel how much he cares about you which makes you tear up a bit. You sniffle and he immediately quiets, you hear some rustling on the other end before he asks. “Hey, you okay? I’m sorry, I got too excited. Do you want me to come over?”

You nod as you whisper out a watery. “Yes please. C-Could you also bring me a (favourite hot drink) and a warm cookie from that café you took me to?”

You hear Luke pause before he chuckles and says. “You mean the Sleepy Time café? Sure kid. I’ll be over in 30. See you soon.”

After that the two of you hang up. You eagerly wait for him in the foyer, like a puppy waiting for its owner. You were a bit nervous, he’s been away at college for a while and you were worried he wouldn’t like you anymore because he made new and better friends. But Luke would never do that. You desperately hope he wouldn’t. When there’s finally a knock at the door, you rush to open it. When you do, you see that Luke has a large bag with the Batburger logo and a small bag with the Sleepy Time café logo and a big smile on his face. “Thought you might need an extra pick me up! Come on, lets go to the other side of the manor so Alfred can’t find us.”

You laugh and help him with the bag with the café stuff in it. You two go to the other side of the manor that’s less lived in. You guys find a living room like area with a big flatscreen TV like the one in the actually living room, although it is a bit smaller. He pulls out some DVDs from the inside of his jacket and puts the into the DVD player. While the movie plays you two eat and talk, until you finally bring up your dream. He looks at you horrified and asks. “What the fuck? That sounds horrifying.”

Which makes you feel both comforted and also scared because what do you mean, is this not normal? He pauses the movie and then says. “So let me get this straight, you woke up, started throwing up sea water and found three stab wounds-“

You then try to say. “But I don’t know if they are-“

He interrupts you saying. “I’m not done. I- Do you know how insane that is?”

You shrink back into yourself when he says that and get teary eyed. He realises what he said and how it probably sounded to you. “I’m sorry y/n I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that this is crazy and I can’t believe that you didn’t tell anybody. You should’ve said something to me sooner! Not waited a whole day.”

You nod and then say lowly. “I didn’t know who to tell.”

He looks at you sadly and and sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He then moves his hand to comb through his dreads. He then gently asks you. “Could you pull down your shirt for me y/n? So I can see?”

You nod hesitantly and take a deep breath before you do as he asks. You pull it down and take off the makeshift bandage that was almost soaked in red. But it’s gone, already scarred over despite it having been bleeding not too long ago. Panic rushes into your veins and you try to explain yourself but Luke interrupts you saying. “Y/n. You don’t have to explain, I trust you. Plus it’s kinda hard not to when you have a blood soaked bandage and three scars on your chest right where you said there would be. That’s insane though, it’s like straight out of a horror movie.”

You smile as he continues to talk, assuring you that he believes you as the pets your head and holds you tight. You bury your face into his shoulder, happy that there’s someone here that’s in your corner. That night before he tucks you in he writes his phone number on a post it note and writes in big letters, “Luke’s phone # call if you need ANYTHING and I mean it!” which makes you smile sleepily. It makes you feel safe and comforted.

And Luke did his best to keep his promise, he sometimes misses some calls but immediately calls the next chance he gets. As you turn 10 you notice some changes in your body. You don’t like it. It makes you look more… girly. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it just. It doesn’t feel right. When you look in the mirror you start to notice your body also turning more feminine. It’s not that you don’t like it’s just… It doesn’t feel right? You dismiss those thoughts however as you keep going to school.

You still don’t have any friends but Dick brings his friends over all the time. You sometimes watch them fool around, some redhead named Wally West, Roy Harper, Kaldur. Wally is the only one that’s the same age as Dick, Roy is barely two years older than you and Kaldur is older than Dick by two years. You’re fine with them, they look cool. One day you try to sneak into the kitchen without bothering them, wanting a snack. While you’re rummaging through the pantry you hear someone ask. “Who the hell are you?”

You turn around to see Roy looking at you with a raised eyebrow and his arms folded across his chest. You can see that he’s trying to look tough. He is failing. You turn away from him and grumble. “None of your business. Leave me.”

He does the opposite of what you say and gets closer as he asks. “Whatcha trying to get pipsqueak?”

You look at him, annoyed and say. “You fat butt, that’s what I’m looking for.”

Roy looks at you offended and says. “My butt is NOT fat! Take it back!”

You stick your tongue out at him and turn back to the pantry only to realise you forgot what you wanted. Then you turn back to Roy and growl. “Nice going numb nuts! Now I forgot what I wanted! I really wanted it too!”

Roy rolls his eyes and then says. “Well if you forgot what you wanted then maybe you didn’t want it that bad.”

Frustrated, you get teary eyed which makes Roy’s eyes widen. He sighs and goes over to the pantry and asks. “Did you want cookies?”

A bit confused, you brush your tears away before wetly asking. “What?”

He groans and asks again. “Was it cookies you wanted? Popcorn? Chips? Chocolate?”

You think about it a bit before asking for the peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. He looks at you like you’re insane before getting those things. You grab a spoon and put it on the island before climbing onto the stool. You scoop out some peanut butter and realise you have mo plate. You look at Roy pleadingly and ask. “Can you get me a plate please?”

He blushes for some reason and grumbles and walks to one of the base cabinets and opens it to just see pots and pans stacked up neatly. He then shyly asks. “Uh, do you know where plates are?”

You smile and let out a little giggle before saying. “You’re close. It’s right above.”

He nods robotically and looks to see if there’s a ladder, he grabs it and uses it to get a plate for you. You plop the peanut butter onto the plate and give it back to Roy and ask. “Could you please put it in the microwave? Pretty please?”

His face reddens further and he puts it in the microwave for a minute. He then grabs it but winces when he feels how hot it is. He then grabs an oven mitt, puts it on and brings the plate over. He then sits next to you and just stares at you. You look away slightly uncomfortable then dip your cookie into the melted peanut butter. You huff and puff at how hot it is, but it still tastes amazing. Roy then steals a cookie and does the same thing as you. He also huffs and puffs at how hot the peanut butter is. You laugh at that and continue to eat the cookies like that together and in silence. When you’re finished you give him a hug and whisper a thank you before jumping off the stool and going back to your room happily. Not noticing that Roy’s face was beet red and he stared at you as you left.

A few weeks later you saw that everyone in your school had a phone. You also wanted one, so after some pleading with Alfred who then relayed said pleas to Bruce, bought you a new WayneTech phone. You searched up all kinds of things, you’d look at pictures of your favourite characters all day. However you keep running into pictures one character kissing another character. But that’s not right they should be in love with the one you think is best. It just fits the story better and their personalities won’t clash! And that is how you ended up in a rabbit hole of lemon fanfics and fan art. This was all so cool! Online, you could be someone else! And people were into the same stuff you were into, and you found more things that peaked your interests, like manga and anime! You were into so many fandoms and the dopamine rush you get from seeing art of your fave character, or better yet, your fave ship was amazing! You loved this!

It didn’t take you long to get on Wattpad, Tumblr, Devianart as well as getting a Waynebook account. Which none of your family members know about because why the hell would they. And you obviously had to pretend to be a boy, I mean you wouldn’t want random people to know that you’re a girl and it’d be harder to find you in case anyone did try to find you. But while you were scrolling through Waynebook one day you saw that one of your favourite artists had an ‘NSFW’ account. You don’t know what that means so you clicked it and Oh. Oh wow. After that day you got into both yaoi and yuri. And you started following A LOT of NSFW accounts and got into some more ‘adult’ fanfics and doujinshis.

It really felt like the world was your playground after that, and after you found there was both official and fan merchandise? You said goodbye to your allowance because you needed that dakimura of your fave being submissive and breedable. You had pins all over your backpack and cute little key chains that your fave artists made of your babies. However on one of the days that Alfred took both Dick and you to school, Dick saw your backpack. He asks. “What’s that?”

You brighten up and start to explain, but you don’t even 5 seconds before he says. “That’s so weird. And you put that on your backpack? You want everyone to know you’re some kinda weirdo? Bruce would probably disgusted.”

Your smile goes away and you go quiet as Dick turns to look through the window. You mumble under your breath. “It’s not weird.”

Alfred scolds Dick for saying something like that, but you can tell that Alfred also thinks it’s not normal. Your eyes start to sting as you start to undo the pins and decorations on your backpack. You wish he never asked, you wish he didn’t get your hopes up. No one in this manor understands you. And then comes the question, would Daddy still love you like this? You start to cry quietly trying your best to stifle your sniffles but Dick notices. He rolls his eyes before mumbling an apology you know he doesn’t mean. You don’t say anything back.

You wish that was the worst thing about that day but no. In the middle of a test your seat starts to feel wet you look down to check and see that you’re bleeding. You get scared and ask the teacher if she could come to you. She doesn’t even look up when she says. “You have legs don’t you? Come and walk over here if you have something you need to say.”

You look down nervously and tell her. “Could you please come here instead? I don’t feel comfortable walking over there.”

She stares you down and sighs as she gets up to go close to you. She asks you. “Are you having trouble with a question?”

You shake your head and tell her you’re bleeding from your crotch. Her eye widen at that but her brows furrow when she says. “Don’t lie to me, you’re too young to be having a period. Just finish your test.”

You look at her, panicked and say. “I’m not! Miss can you just please help me?”

She sighs and as she combs through her hair she then says. “Fine. Get up then. Show me.”

You look up her horrified, you look around and see that some of the kids are looking over curious as to what’s happening. You look up at her pleadingly and ask. “Do I have to?”

She nods and then you sigh and get up, Eric, your former best friend and now class clown says. “Ewww, that’s so gross! She peed blood!”

Your face flushes with embarrassment as the teacher then realises her mistake she then ushers you to the bathroom and grabs a pad for you. She tells you how to use it and while you do that, she calls Alfred to pick you up but the damage is done. Alfred probably picks you up and helps you through it but after that day the kids at school start to call you bloody mary.

You start hiding your true self after that. You told Luke about both things and although he didn’t quite understand the fujoshi part, he was still supportive. So you continued the next few years. While Dick blossomed into a social butterfly and healed from his trauma, you enclose on yourself. Only blossoming during the night, when you were free to be yourself. When you were free to be as weird as you wanted to be. Your body keeps growing, but not in the way you want it to. You start to get self-conscious, hating the way your body looks and feels. So you start wearing oversized hoodies and baggy pants. You look at Dick and his friends and see their bodies. You wish you looked like that.

At some point at around 13 years old, you made a friend online. A girl named Robin she’s about 5 yeas older than you and really smart. She helps with your homework a lot and you’re thankful for her. When you tell her your feelings about your body growing she then asks. “Would you rather be a boy?”

You chuckle and say. “I mean, yeah. Boys have it easier. They don’t have to worry about their bodies. And they don’t have to worry about periods. They don’t have boobs either, so that’s cool. There’s also the pay gap-“

Robin interrupts. “Are you saying that to justify that? Or do you mean it?”

You pause, and think about it for a moment. You then say. “I don’t know. Like I look at Dick and his friends and I think, ‘Wow! I wish I had their clothing and musculature and I wish I could also be manly’ but like it’s not like I fantasise about it.”

Robin chuckles as she then says. “Mmm. So those times you wished you were a man and told me that if you were a man you’d want to be a ‘bara dilf’ didn’t happen? Or how you said that you wished you looked like (insert chara with your ideal body type)?”

You blush and think about her words and say. “Well it’s not like I can change anything-“

She interrupts you again as she says. “Yeah you can. You can get HRT and get that body and voice you want.”

You reply with. “What.”

She then explains the LGBTQ+ going through each letter calmly and letting you ask questions. It makes you pause and think about what you want and if this is you. And whether you might want to change your body. You mull it over for over a month when suddenly you have that weird dream again.

You’re on the shore, everything around you is serene and beautiful the sun setting. You turn around and there’s the cave that’s int the cliff side. You go towards it this time and as you get closer you can hear breathing. When you’re right in front of the cave you see the owl staring at you. It looks straight into your eyes and opens it mouth to let out some kind of recording. You hear a blood curdling scream, and garbled noises, implying someone is drowning or choking on their own blood as the ominous chanting in the background grows louder and louder overtaking the screams eventually. It then closes its mouth but voices don’t stop. Instead it feels like the sound is multiplying, like there’s more people that’s either screaming or chanting. It starts to hurt, and the pain gradually increases too. Until suddenly it all stops. You start heaving, not noticing that you were barely breathing the entire time. You fall to your knees as you shudder and hug yourself. You look up and the owl says in Bruce’s voice. “Behind you.” You slowly turn around to see the giant owl from last time. This time you get to see how big it actually is. It’s as big as a medium sized two story house. It then pecks at you, tearing through your flesh like a hot knife through butter. Tearing out your entrails at it keeps you down with its talons.

You wake up with a scream, you still feel the pain. And it takes more than a few moments to realise that you’re alive. And that it was just a dream.

After that you were so preoccupied with the dream and school that you completely put the thought of HRT and surgery out of your mind. Instead you start showing your art online, making fanfics and buying doujinshis, trying to keep your mind off these reoccurring dreams and the fact that your family doesn’t love you. 2 years pass like this, Bruce and Dick’s relationship has been rougher these days. You watch but don’t butt in, it’s none of your business anyways. But then Dick moves out and you can tell Bruce is depressed about it. You don’t know what to say or do but you start to leave tea or coffee for him in his office, so he won’t feel as lonely.

But that looks like it won’t be necessary, because instead of saying thank you and just be a normal man. He gets another child from the street, he tells you to be nice to him, to be kind. As if you didn’t know the harshness of the city. You’d argue about it but you had no energy for that. That’s when you meet Jason, your little brother.

He looked skinny, the child like look that was supposed to be in his eyes are not there, replaced with a wariness that you can recognise was developed over time. His clothes were too big for him, almost swallowing him up. You could tell he was uncomfortable and Dick isn’t here anymore. And even if he was, he’s been real prickly since his argument with Bruce. You sigh and wonder, is that what you looked like? It’s obvious that he’s older than when you came to the manor but because of the malnourishment he looks as if he’s nine.

You didn’t interact much in the beginning, at least not until the next week when a thunder came along. You were staying up doing some commissions when your door opens, you blink at the light flooding your room wincing as it makes your tired eyes sting. When you can see properly you can see Jason just standing there, blanket in hand. Before you can say anything he barges into your room and gets into your bed. You look at him confused and flabbergasted before you save your progress and turn off your computer and drawing tablet. You go to the bathroom to change into your pjs before standing right by the aide of the bed. You see that he’s shaking. You look at him sympathetically as you remember when your Daddy used to do that. You sigh as you get in bed and curl around him, you wrap your arms around his waist. The two of you fall asleep like that, while you hoped you could be be of good use to him. However when you wake up he isn’t there, you clench your fist as you lay there. Tired, and lonely again.

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Hello! Hope you liked it! If any of the charas are too ooc please tell me! I would like to be kinda accurate in some way.

Edit: For those who saw what the title was before, no you didn’t.

Taglist:

@simpingpandas

#mine arth #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #neglected reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #luke fox #lucius fox #yandere batman #platonic #that last scene is NOT ship #do not tag as ship #tw neglect #tw slight gore

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months ago

Text

March the 9th

Marc Spector x gn!reader 1.4k words, angst, sex is implied, no smut, tw abuse, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Your skin tingles as you struggle you steady your breathing. Pacing the floor for an hour does nothing to calm that fuzzy feeling in the center of you.

He’ll be here soon.

You’ve memorized the pattern on the ceiling over your bed, because you stared at it the entire night, never once slipping into blissful slumber.

Your phone never rings. No emails, no letters, no messages.

But he always shows.

Bouncing on your toes, you smooth your hands down the lines of your body, checking your reflection, which lets you know you look the same as you did five minutes ago.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

The first year...

Your family moved onto the Spectors’ street when you were nine years old. You quickly befriended the Spector boys, often playing with them after school and on weekends.

Then, one day, Randall was gone. You were supposed to play with them that day, but you had the flu.

Marc was never the same and you didn’t see much of him, except at school. The Spectors didn’t throw him a birthday party and he didn’t show up at yours either.

So you created a handmade birthday card for him, making a point to cross his path at school. He was absent.

The next year approached, and you realized the Spectors once again would not be throwing a party, so you gave Marc his birthday card on March 8th. He jerked it out of your hand, eyes downcast, muttering, “thanks,” before shuffling away.

You called his name, scampering after him, but he never looked back. The two of you were in middle school now and Marc didn’t seem to have many friends at all. Hopefully he would read the card, which invited him over to hang out.

He did.

On the night of March 9th, he crawled through your bedroom window for the first time. Tears streaked down his cheeks as his body trembled.

“Can I sleep on your floor?” He brokenly whispered.

You had a queen sized bed, so, of course you didn’t let your clearly devastated friend sleep on the hard floor.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured drowsily, once he slid beneath the covers. “Please, they’ll kill me.”

You didn’t understand and he wouldn’t explain. You were only twelve years old. You squeezed his hand and let him rest.

He talked to you after that, only sometimes.

The next March 9th, you gave him another card, with another invitation to come over. He did. Your fingers tangled with his.

Again at fourteen, when, after swiping the tears from his eyes, he kissed you. He kissed you for a long time and you thought you’d never felt anything so magical.

At fifteen, he kissed and touched you all night long. Your heart was his now.

Still, he kept to himself for most of the other 364 days a year.

At sixteen, he climbed into your bed and the two of you lost your virginity. Neither of you had a clue what you were doing - clumsy and wild and sweet. But he kissed you and held you and he tried. You loved him and you had never felt so close to anyone in your life.

He flinched away from your touch several times, so you thought you must be doing something wrong.

It wasn’t until seventeen that you saw his well-hidden bruises and red welts by your bedside lamplight.

“Who did this to you?” Tears streamed down your face as your fingertips traced lovingly around anger and drunkenness unleashed on his beautiful body.

His eyes met yours and you knew. He came to your bed a lot more after that.

Then came eighteen. Three months before graduation. You asked him all the time where he wanted to go to college - where the two of you could go together, but nothing ever came of it. He only answered, “I have to get out.”

March the 9th of year eighteen was the last you saw of Marc Spector for a long time. He didn’t make it to graduation.

He sent you a letter in year nineteen.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all it said.

Year twenty passed. 21, 22, 23…

You graduated college and met someone. But every March the 9th, your fingers would trace his picture, so your "someone" didn't last.

More than a few March 9ths ago, you somehow wished him right back to you. He knocked on your door, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot, swallowing hard and expecting rejection.

You threw your arms around him. “Happy birthday,” you whispered against his cheek before his mouth found yours.

He took you to bed and you knew then that your heart would only ever be his.

It wasn’t enough though. He granted you a half-hearted explanation about danger and old debts and how he was so messed up - he could never bring it all into your life.

You had enough dignity to refrain from begging him.

The next March the 9th was the same. And the next, and the next.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

This year, you’re resolute. It will be the last. It has to be. You can’t do this anymore. He doesn’t love you - not the way you love him. You’ll wish him happy birthday, take him to your bed, but - never again. It hurts too much.

A sharp knock jolts you out of your reverie, sending all the air rushing out of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you steady yourself, giving yourself one final moment to prepare for your last night with Marc.

You reach for the door and find him holding flowers. Irises.

“You like these…right?” Dark eyebrows shift hopefully.

You breathe his name, your heart flaming with adoration. You take the bouquet and wrap your arms around his neck like always, whispering, “Happy birthday,” against his cheek as his lips seek out your own. He tastes you slowly…sweetly, his breath mingling with yours.

You lose your grasp on the irises, forgetting to care as they spill to the floor. Strong arms wind around you as his hands spread across your back, pressing you against the solid warmth of his chest. The kiss goes on and on until you’re dizzy and breathless and hot tears wet your eyes at the thought of never tasting him again.

You fight them back as the two of you finally make it through the front door and he kicks it closed. He takes you to bed and you drown in the essence that is Marc - unearthed secrets, soul-crushing burdens, beautiful desperation and a kind of hungry tenderness. You bury your nose in the crook of his neck, comforted and tormented as you inhale the spicy, sun-kissed scent of him, your lips tasting, committing him to memory.

Saltiness seeps into your mouth and you’re not sure if it’s the slight sheen on his skin as he works his way into you, or the tears slipping down your cheeks.

Your fingers twist through his dark curls as you pull your body flush against his - the heat of your tongue - the twist of your body - the scrape of your fingernails desperately attempting to communicate your need for this man.

He’s been your birthday wish most of your life.

He holds you against him until the calendar turns to the 10th. The sun rises and you realize he’s never stayed this long.

Which will make the speech you’ve planned so much harder. You shuffle to the bathroom while he sleeps, steeling yourself for the heartbreak. As you stare into the mirror, tears burn your eyes and you wonder if you can go through with it. The thought of never seeing him again is crushing, but you can’t go on like this.

Finally, you straighten out your appearance and freshen up, fighting like hell to keep your composure.

Marc is awake, sitting on the edge of your bed in only his boxers. You expect him to be dressed and ready to walk out the door, but as his warm, coffee colored eyes find yours…

He gently smiles.

“Marc?” You whisper, slowly approaching him.

“Come here,” he softly instructs, reaching for you. You sink down beside him, your foreheads touching sweetly as he grips your arms.

“Could…do you think I could stay?”

Tears trickle down. Again. “I don’t know,” you whimper. “I-I can’t-"

“I know.,” he nods, pressing an urgent kiss to your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

He’s off the bed and reaching for his clothes before you can blink, but you don’t let him get far. “Stay,” you urgently plead. “Stay with me.”

He freezes, eyes wide and hopeful. “F-for tonight, or…”

“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your palms to the heat of his bare chest. “Stay or go. Just decide.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Next March the 9th…

“Happy birthday, baby,” you murmur against his lips as he rolls you underneath him.

“Happy anniversary,” he returns, sealing his mouth to yours.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc Spector-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#happy birthday marc spector #angst filled baby boy #we love you #marc spector #moon knight #mcu #oscar isaac characters

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kathlare · 2 months ago

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silent encounter

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie, after attending a birthday party, is about to leave when she unexpectedly runs into Lando. The tension between them, built from past events, hangs in the air as they have an awkward, unspoken encounter.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

July 16th, 2023 - Monte Carlos, Monaco

The soft hum of laughter and chatter echoed through the spacious villa, blending with the scent of fresh flowers and the faint remnants of party decorations that had yet to be taken down. It was a warm summer evening, and Amelie was standing near the front door, gathering her things. She had spent the last few hours at Penelope's birthday party, surrounded by familiar faces and the occasional unfamiliar one, and she was more than ready to leave.

—Amelie, darling, don't be a stranger,— Kelly said warmly, her voice a soft contrast to the noise of the celebration. She pulled Amelie into a hug, the older woman’s perfume mingling with the faint traces of the night’s festivities. —It was so lovely having you here.—

Amelie smiled, her lips curling gently. —I know, Kelly. Thank you for inviting me,— she replied, hugging her back before pulling away. —And please, say happy birthday to Penelope for me.—

—I will, I will,— Kelly said, waving a hand dismissively. —You have a safe flight back, okay? And make sure to keep in touch!—

Amelie nodded, slipping on her light jacket as she took a step back towards the door. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the stars had begun to twinkle faintly in the sky, casting a serene glow over the garden.Before she could leave, Penelope came running up to her, a wide grin on her face. The birthday girl, still glowing from the excitement of the day, threw her arms around Amelie in an enthusiastic hug.

—Amelie, thank you for coming!— Penelope said, her voice high-pitched with excitement. —You're like, the best! You have to come back and play again next time!—

Amelie chuckled, ruffling Penelope's hair. —Of course, I’ll be back. You take care, alright?— She gave the girl one final squeeze before waving goodbye to both Kelly and Penelope and stepping outside.

The night air hit her skin as she walked toward her car, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel echoing behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting it to be someone from the party running to say one last goodbye, but instead, her heart stuttered in her chest as she saw him.

Lando Norris, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, was walking toward the front door of the villa, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had just arrived, his presence unmistakable even in the dim light. For a moment, she froze. He hadn't noticed her yet, but her stomach twisted, and her mind flashed back to the last time they were in the same room together.

The last time they’d seen each other in Abu Dhabi, the tension had been so thick between them that neither of them could pretend things were normal. It was months ago, but the memories still lingered, unresolved. They hadn't spoken since.

Amelie turned away, her grip tightening on the handle of her car door. She wanted to leave. She should leave. But there was something about his presence that kept her rooted to the spot.

Max Verstappen appeared from the shadows just then, his presence instantly recognizable. He gave Lando a tight, purposeful grin. —Hey, mate, I was just looking for you,— Max said, clapping Lando on the back in a friendly but pointed gesture. —You don’t mind if we chat for a bit, do you? Maybe grab a drink?—

Lando looked momentarily confused, then gave Max an almost reluctant nod. —Yeah, sure,— he muttered, his gaze darting over Max’s shoulder.

Amelie stood still, the air between them charged with an unspoken tension, her heart thudding a little louder than she liked. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to turn around and face him, or if she should just keep her distance and leave. After all, they hadn’t spoken in months. There was no point in pretending everything was fine.

Max, seemingly unaware of the battle unfolding between Lando and Amelie, led Lando off to the side of the driveway, out of her immediate view. He was trying to buy them both some time, to make sure they didn’t have to cross paths—not tonight, anyway.

Lando’s footsteps echoed behind Max as they moved toward the bar area just outside the villa. But Amelie knew, even without seeing him, that Lando’s presence was like a weight in the air. She could feel it.

Her grip on the door handle loosened, and she glanced back one last time, her eyes searching the shadows. She was about to slide into the car when, just as she was about to make her escape, Lando’s voice cut through the night like a knife.

—Amelie?—

Her name on his lips felt foreign, the way it always had after everything that had happened between them. The way he said it now felt like a test—like he wasn’t sure whether or not she would turn around. There was a pause, a beat that felt like hours before she let out a shaky breath and slowly, reluctantly, turned around.

Lando had stopped a few steps behind Max, his hands still shoved in his pockets, his face frozen in an awkward mask of uncertainty. Their eyes met, and it felt like the world around them disappeared for a split second, the sounds of the party fading into the background. It was just the two of them, standing there in the quiet of the night, an ocean of unsaid things between them.

He swallowed hard. —Hey,— he said, his voice a little too loud in the silence. He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering to Max, who had made himself conveniently busy with his phone. —You alright?—

Amelie blinked, her throat dry as she took in the sight of him. His hair was messier than usual, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made her want to look away. She was suddenly very aware of how close they were, the distance between them now feeling like nothing at all.

—Yeah,— she replied flatly, forcing herself to sound casual. —I’m good. Just... leaving. You know. Busy schedule and all that.— She gave him a tight smile, hoping to make it sound less awkward than it felt. She didn’t know what else to say.

Lando shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. He looked at Max again, who was still pretending to be occupied with his phone, and then back at Amelie. The silence between them stretched on, thick and heavy, like there was so much more they both wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring themselves to.

—Right...— Lando muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. —Well, uh... I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?—

The words felt forced, like an attempt at normalcy that neither of them was capable of pulling off. Amelie bit her lip, trying to find something, anything to say that didn’t sound completely stupid. Her mind was racing, but her words were stuck.

—Yeah, maybe,— she finally managed, her voice quieter now. She didn’t want to linger, didn’t want to stand there anymore, trapped in this awkward space between them. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It wasn’t how they’d ever planned for it to end up.

With a final, fleeting glance at him, Amelie slipped into the car, the door shutting behind her with a soft thud. She didn’t look back.

Lando stood there for a moment, his eyes fixed on the spot where she had been, his chest tightening as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Max, ever the observant one, noticed the tension between them.

—What was that about?— Max asked, lowering his phone and arching an eyebrow as he turned to face his friend.

Lando shook his head, trying to shake off the heavy feeling that had settled in his stomach. —Nothing,— he muttered, his voice low, distant. —Just... weird. I don’t know.—

Max gave him a knowing look, but said nothing. Lando didn’t need to hear it, not right now. He wasn’t sure what to feel, or even what he should feel.

As the car drove off into the night, Lando stood there for a moment longer, watching the taillights fade into the distance. His mind was still buzzing, spinning with thoughts he didn’t want to have, memories he didn’t want to face.

What if... What if things had been different?

What if they hadn’t ended like that?

What if they had never let it slip away in the first place?

But the night was already slipping into the past, and so was the chance for answers.

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mattsunsdollie · 3 months ago

Text

Fantasize

Juan Soto x Fem!Reader

Description: Everyone says distance makes the heart grow fonder. What if the distance is just a few feet from your ex?

MDNI

SMUT 18+

After the split between you and Juan, you made it a point to say yes to every invite or outing. Your friend was promoting a shitty club? You were going. Your cousins girlfriend was hosting a birthday brunch? You were going. Even if you didn’t know anyone attending the events, you were going out. Which is why you were currently at this club, your friend bringing you along with her boyfriend and his friend.

Of course your friend tried to act like it was a date to get you out there but you made it clear you were just out to have fun and he agreed he was also. He was sweet, buying the drinks and complimenting you here and there. To anyone else, they would’ve thought he was a catch. To be frank, he probably was, but he wasn’t Juan. As he leaned in to continue the small talk you couldn’t help but wish he was Juan instead.

Although the split was deemed mutual after a long discussion, deep down you didn’t want to break up. However you two were still cordial, well as cordial as exes can be. Occasionally he would react or reply to one of your instagram stories. You found yourself in a routine, you would reread old messages, go through pictures and even stalk his instagram to see if he followed a new woman. When people said distance makes the heart grow fonder you thought it only applied to long distance relationship’s. But, not waking up with Juan everyday, talking at all and even doing boring chores with him made you realize just how much you still wanted him.

Sudden chanting and cheering in an already loud club brought you out of your day dream. Looking around to see if someone bought an expensive bottle, you see him. There he is, Juan, with some other Yankee players not too far behind him. He towers over the crowd, looking bigger than the last time you saw him. There is brief eye contact, and he smiles until it quickly drops when he see’s the man leaning in next to you. You realize how it looks, he probably thinks you’ve already moved on, which couldn’t be more far from the truth.

You want to scream and tell him it isn’t what it seems but he’s already moving through the crowd. The DJ makes his announcement and points them to their section, which is ironically next to yours. You quickly down the last bit of your mixed drink, and because your company is a gentleman he notices. He quickly takes the cup from your hand and leans in impossibly closer telling you he’ll get you another. You simply nod, and it’s quite obvious to everyone else you’re no longer enjoying the night.

Your friend quickly picks up on your clues and she points at the bar. Looking in the direction she pointed at you realize Juan and your friend of the night are right next to each other. You want to explode, hoping Juan doesn’t cause a scene or say anything to the other man. He doesn’t even realize he’s next to your ex while he’s turning around smiling and winking at you. You weakly smile back and turn back around.

When he finally returns back with a vodka red bull you politely scoot over, keeping a distance. He’s caught off guard by the sudden coldness, but decides to not push it. The small talk is awkward at this point, so when your friends drink is done you tell her you’ll get her another one.

Standing up you adjust your mini dress and make your way to the bar. You quickly order her a drink and a shot for yourself. Of course he’d be here tonight, the only night where you were “out” with another guy. Downing the shot and sucking the lime you look back to Juan’s section which was filled with his teammates and their girlfriends. Juan still wasn’t at his section, but that didn’t surprise you. He would always go around and thank people or just network. The bartender finally handed your friends drink to you and you hand him a cash tip.

As you look around the crowd you spot him, and neither of you break eye contact. He mouths for you to wait, so you do. You stand at the bar while he maneuvers through the bodies. The distance of only a few feet makes you miss him even more, months of not seeing each other finally led you to this moment. When you’re finally face to face it’s evident he isn’t happy, the usual wide smile not on his face.

“You know if you had a boyfriend you could’ve just told me” Juan says as leans on the bar, looking straight at you. “Not my boyfriend, just happened to tag along” you try to say nonchalantly. In reality, the close proximity is making your heart beat fast. “He sure as hell seems to like you, and the dress I picked” he quickly spits back.

You didn’t even realize the dress you were wearing was one Juan hand picked and bought for you. In fact it was one of his favorites, and anytime you wore it he was drooling over you. His remark left you speechless, and then he’s saying another smart remake by saying “Look your boyfriend’s missing you” while motioning with his head in the direction of your section.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and he can like this dress all he wants. He knows he’s not the one taking it off” you reply sassily, completing turning to face him. Now Juan’s intrigued, stepping closer to you. You can really tell up close all those extra hours in the gym are paying off.

“Who is then?” He questions, and you can’t tell if he’s asking out of genuine curiosity or because he wants you. You look back at your section and see an obvious shift in the man’s demeanor, his back facing you and your friend giving you an awkward smile. Turning your head back to Juan you say “You know no one is”

“Well how would I know when you have Mr.doesn’t know what personal space is, glued next to you?” He says grabbing the drink out of your hand and placing it on the bar. You chuckle, it was true, he didn’t know what personal space was. His team mates begin to yell for him to come back and you simply just wave at them. “The boys saw you and all you did was wave? Come say hi” he says opening his palm for you to grab it. You do and he holds your hand, and he swears it’s just because you’re wearing heels and need support to walk in them. Secretly it was a force of habit, always wanting to touch you in some way.

The team welcomes you normally, and for a moment it feels as though everything is back to the way it used to be. Your snugged under Juan’s arm as the group makes jokes and laughs. Occasionally looking up at him, taking in the moment, wanting to live in it forever. With the drinks flowing Juan gets bolder, what started as an arm draped over you to now his large hand over your thigh.

His laugh filled the section as he clearly enjoyed himself. It reminded you of the days you two shared, and you weren’t sure if it was the previous drinks you had or your desperation but you whisper in his ear, lightly brushing his upper thigh with your palm. “I wanna go home Juan”

He nods, drinking the juice he used as chaser while ordering an uber. He doesn’t acknowledge that you said go home, like you used to say. You both say goodnight to the team and make your way outside to wait, the warm summer night hugs you as you wait. You lean the back of your head on Juan’s chest while his large hands rest on your stomach. To those passing by it looks like a regular couple. He leans his head and says “This dress is driving me crazy” while one hand goes down to play with the hem of the short dress

A low whine escapes from your chest as you push yourself more on Juan. “Behave, the uber’s almost here” He says, and you can feel exactly why he said behave. The erection in his jeans is prominent and poking your back, and he keeps you there to block the obvious tent.

Within a few minutes the car pulls up, and Juan opens the door for you, standing behind you as you bend into the vehicle. The drive was quiet, you were enjoying being in Juan’s embrace as he rubbed circles onto your knee. Your head on his chest as you closed your eyes. His cologne completely engulfing you, and it’s clear he still wears the one you bought him for your first christmas together.

Before you know it you’ve arrived to Juan’s building, the fancy modern exterior seemingly the same except for the new chandelier. You reminisce as you walk in the lobby, greeted by the same staff that used to greet you nightly. Everything seemed so normal, like it used to be.

Juan leads you into the elevator with a large hand on your lower back, and presses his floors number. The silence between you isn’t awkward, even though it should be. It feels as though months of not speaking hasn’t gone by.

The silver doors open and you remember exactly how to go to his apartment. The grey carpet is even the same, “It might be a little messy I’m sorry” he breaks the silence. You laugh “Have no one to clean up after you now huh?” He shakes his head as he unlocks and opens the door.

If he did he would’ve said so, and that gives you a good sign that he’s not seeing anyone either. His apartment looks stuck in time, the same way you left it that day. The decor pieces you picked out still hanging around the apartment, there were hints of you still lingering here.

“Not as messy as I assumed” you joke, taking a seat at the marble island. “Guess I’ve gotten better at cleaning up then” he replies leaning on the opposite side of you. And silence fills the huge room, he’s looking at you, and he puts on his face he makes when he’s thinking intently.

You decide to break the silence, “I’ve missed you, you know” He keeps eye contact, “Me too amor”. You lean on your palm, “Show me how much you missed me then” you tease. He walks around the island and turns your chair. Grabbing your hand he places it over his erection,”That shows you how much?”

You look up, looking him in the eyes then his lips. If there was anytime to be bold it was now, you extend your hand to the back of his neck and bring him to your face and close the gap. The kiss heats up quickly, letting his tongue explore your mouth almost immediately .

You taste the alcohol on his tongue, mixed with the strong cologne it leaves you dizzy and hungry for more. Your hands trail down his prominent chest, down to the erection that seemed to get harder from when you were at the club.

He groans when you finally place your palm over and begin to rub it slowly. You go to unbutton the jeans, not breaking the kiss. You pop the button out of the hole agonizingly slow, and begin to play with the zipper until you finally pull it all the way down. Grabbing the jeans you start to try to push them down.

His hand grabs your wrists, “Not fucking you here corazón”. You protest “Need it now, I don’t care if it’s here” fingers locked on the belt loops of his jeans. He’s stern though, refusing to fuck you in the kitchen. He picks you up, large hands grabbing your ass as he takes you to the familiar bedroom.

Hands perched on his chest you begin to kiss up and down his neck while he walks you over the bed. Pulling down the collar of his shirt you begin to suck a hickey on his collar bone. He was very strict on no marks on his neck or other places someone would see.

Your mini dress at this point is rolled up by your hips from the position Juan has you carried in. Once you’re content with the color of the hickey, you leave wet kisses all up and down his throat. His head is thrown back as he gives you more access. He’s standing at the edge of his bed at this point but refuses to put you down.

You make your way back up to his mouth and that’s what causes him to move you up and down. He pushes your clothed pussy over his erection. You lock your ankles that are straddling him, and begin grinding on him. You feel like a virgin getting turned on by the grinding alone.

He finally places you on the bed, “Turn around” he demands. You sit facing away from him, you feel his cold hands unzip the dress and pull it over you. You’re exposed, left in nothing but a pair of panties. You look back over your shoulder and see him just staring at you in awe.

His hand finds itself on your neck, pushing your head back so it’s on his chest. He leans down and kisses you while the other hand plays with your nipple. He kisses your shoulders and uses both hands to squeeze and play with your boobs and nipples, occasionally pulling and twisting them.

Your panties are bound to have a wet spot as you roll your hips on nothing as he continues to play with you. You get on your knees and turn around. “You have too much on” You say gesturing to his clothes. You grab his shirt and lift it over, getting a close up to his chest and stomach.

He’s always been big but he’s clearly been lifting heavier and it has done wonders. Your fingers trace his sculpted chest and stomach. You finally go back to his unbuttoned jeans and drag them down to his ankles. In his grey boxers you see the prominent outline of his boner.

“Can I?” you ask sweetly, looking up at him just like he asked you the first time you two got intimate. “It’s all yours amor” he replies. With that you kiss the outline, and delicately peel down the boxers. When his erection is finally released it springs up, slightly hitting his stomach.

It’s just how you remembered it, big girth with a vein on the right side. You slightly cup his shaft and slide off the bed to get on your knees. Once situated under him you kiss the tip. Kitten licking where all the precum is oozing out. Looking up you lick a bold stripe on the vein. You hear him inhale sharply and you can’t help but smile.

You grab his dick and lightly pull down spitting on the top part of the shaft. Spreading the spit with your hand you slowly begin to jerk him off. “Fuck, go a little faster baby” he says looking down at you.

Slightly speed up you finally wrap your mouth around the tip, continuing to jerk the rest of while swirling your tongue on his slit. He lightly thrusts forward, and you open your mouth wider to try to take more. Bobbing your head, you’re certain there’s spit coming out of the corners of your mouth. But you’re too far in to care, you’re just focused on making him cum.

His hand rests on the back of your head as he tries to not thrust in your mouth. “Shit feels so good” he groans with eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar. And when your hands cup his balls as you bob up and down he’s pulling you off.

A string of saliva attaching your lip to his dick, he grabs the base and jerks is lightly. “Haven’t done this in a while, not gonna last baby. Get on the bed” and he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You lay on your back as his dick rests on your stomach while he sucks and toys with your nipples again. His thumb circling over your wet patch and you can’t help but jerk your hips up trying to get more.

He kisses his way down between the valley of your boobs until he reaches right above where your panties lay. He carefully peels down your underwear, seeing just how truly wet you are. “She’s missed me huh” he jokes as he spreads your folds with his thick fingers. He kisses each side of your thighs as he spreads them back, “Hold them” he says.

Your polished nails grip the back of your thighs as you see him fully stand. You see him looking around his room, and your heart sinks, is he looking for condoms? Has he slept with other people.

“I uh don’t have condoms, haven’t done this since you” he confesses, and you confess you’ve also been celibate since the breakup. In the beginning of your relationship you’d use condoms but after his first time hitting raw Juan refused to buy condoms unless you truly wanted it, but you didn’t either.

You grab his shaft and place it at your entrance, “Please, need it bad Juan” and he can’t deny that he doesn’t want to fuck you like you were his. He slowly pushes the head in, constantly looking at your face to see if it was too much.

“Oh fuck” He groans as he places his palms on the back of your thighs, folding you in half. He slowly pushes himself deeper, the wetness and tightness he’s been deprived of causing a tight coil in his lower abdomen. “G-go all the way in, I can take it” you moan out, holding your knees to your chest.

When he finally bottoms out you feel so full, as if he’s everywhere at the same time. No thoughts pass through your mind, just pleasure. You let go of one of your knees and place it on his hip, pushing him out, hinting him to move. “Fuck I missed this, only pussy I want” He moans out as he slowly pulls back and pushes back in.

Clenching at his words you moan out when he pressed his hand on your stomach, and he unintentionally discovers he can feel himself move. “Feel that princesa? I’m right here baby, give me your hand” he groans, eyes focused on your stomach.

When you place your hand right under your navel you feel the movement as he fucks you. “H-harder, please Juan I need it” you moan out, eyes watering as the sting and deepness become almost unbearable.

Between the hard and fast thrusts and hearing the squelching sounds you started seeing stars. “Baby, oh fuck, turn around” He pants pulling out and tapping on your sore and wet pussy.

Weakly you turn over and get on all fours. You look back and see him stroking himself. Moving back and wiggling your hips he finally pushes back in. It felt as if he grew in size, touching a part of you he wasn’t before.

“Don’t run amor, stay right there” he said pulling out and then slamming right back in. Your face squished on his linen bed sheets, you began to grip them as you tried to not move away. “Please don’t stop” you cry out pushing yourself back to meet his strokes. “Tell me this pussys mine, fuck need to know it’s mine”

He’s rambling, and you can tell his strokes becoming more uncoordinated. Continuing to put a show on for him you moan out, “All yours, I’m all yours, only yo- oh fuck.” He slaps your ass, quickly massaging it and then slapping the other cheek. He grabs you by your face to bring you up, and holds your stomach to keep you up right in-front of his chest. The new angle has you shaking. You bring your hand down to your clit and rub tight circles.

He quickly brings you back down to all fours and just stands with his dick all the way inside you. And you feel the coil within you snap and he pulls out, laying his dick on the curve of your ass. Cum leaking out of the tip, he’s breathing heavily. The cum dripping down your leg and onto the sheets. Your legs still shake from the intense orgasm.

You roll over and lay on your back looking up at him. He’s got his hands on his hips trying to catch his breathe. “You know our sex is great, but I really do miss you. And I want to give us another shot” he says.

You smile and reach your hand out and he grabs it and places a light kiss on it. “Pussy’s that good it’s got you running back?” you joke and he laughs. “Don’t ruin the moment” He grabs your ankle and drags you to the edge of the bed. “You know I’m going to say yes”

Pulling him down you give him a loving kiss. Months of fantasizing and it finally played out. All it took was being a few feet away and now you’re back at home with the boy you loved the most.

I got a little carried away 😀 BUT he’s so sexy so I really couldn’t help myself.

#fanfic #yankees smut #juan soto yankee #juan soto smut #juan smut #juan soto #nyc yankees smut #juan soto x reader #mlb smut #mlb imagines #juan x reader #juan x fem reader #exes to lovers #mattsunsdollie #my man <3 #explore #fanfiction #mlb fanfic

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flowery-mess · 1 year ago

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Hotel room

Ugh, I loved it from the beginning, not so much in the end. Let me know your opinions about this! Also, I struggled a lot with using past and present tense, English is not my first language, so I think there is lot of mistakes, feel free to let me know about them!

Summary: reader struggles with rumors about Noah dating their tour support, that leads to heated conversation with open ending and some hurtful words

Noah Sebastian x female reader

THIS STORY IS FICTION

Do you believe in love at the first sight? No? Me neither. But it’s the closest thing to describe my relationship with Noah.

We met at my friend’s James birthday party. I was newly moved to the states. I initially moved here for a year because of my work internship and James was the first person I became friends with at work. Somehow, he was connected to Matt, who was also invited to the birthday party, and he brought the guys along. “The more the merrier.” His words, not mine.

I heard about them, I listened to their music, but I didn’t want to let my inner fangirl out of me, so I kept it cool the whole night, even forgetting that they were also there.

I can’t say I am not a party person, I am, just my social battery lasts around two hours, then I need to recharge myself. So after wishing James happy birthday, talking to some of our coworkers, dancing and drinking, it was time to slip outside to take some time off.

Sitting on a garden sofa with wine glass in my hand, with my eyes closed, I heard the glass door slide wide open, the noises from inside entering my ears for a minute, second slide of the door cutting them off.

Out of curiosity I opened my eyes and saw tall person in the dark, just standing and looking around. After minute, the person started walking towards me. As I was sitting in the dark, I guessed I wasn’t seen by the person.

“Already taken.” I spared that poor person a scare.

“Oh, sorry, I’m gonna go back then.” I heard slight disappointment in that voice, and after thinking that person was feeling just like me, I spoke again.

“That’s okay, it’s big enough, you can sit here with me.”

“I don’ want to bother you, seems like you’re enjoying whatever you’re doing here.”

“I’m enjoying the silence, that’s what I’m doing here.”

“Interesting, that’s exactly what I came to do here.” I laughed a little, surprisingly not so mad about someone interrupting me anymore.

“Come enjoy the silence then.”

I realized it was him the second he came out of the shade, as the light of the moon covered his face.

“Oh hi.” I tried not to sound too obvious.

“Hi.” With that he sat down next to me.

And that was the beginning of a very long night. Lots of talking. We talked about everything, the conversation flowing like it would never stop.

“So how do you like the states so far?” Noah asked.

“Do you want me to be honest or are you too American and can’t take it?”

“Try me.” He said playfully.

“The food? Terrible, I’m surprised you Americans don’t die at the age of 30. People? I’m so glad for working at company with foreigners, you Americans are weirdos.” He smirked at that answer. “But I’ve been here just for two months so far, so who am I to judge right?”

“Yeah right, who are you, you European woman.” We laughed at that.

He was actually pretty funny, calm and very well spoken. Which, judging by lyrics of his song, wasn’t surprising.

“So how do you know James?” I asked Noah, honestly curious, cause I knew James knew Matt, not the whole band.

“He worked with us on a few shows. On our smaller shows in the beginning, he actually helped us a lot. We didn’t have security or something back then, so it was either no security or security at the venue we were playing. James sometimes grabbed few of his guys and came to the show and helped us with security in general.”

“By his guys you mean our coworkers?” I found that funnier than it probably was, but it seemed funny to me, that he referred to them as James’ guys. Me and James work at a security company. We work “at the top” aka in the office. Hire people, make contracts with venues or artists, schedule shifts etc. We provide security of any kind. We both are on the same position, most of the time in the office from 9 to 5, but he never mentioned he used to go out in the field before.

“Oh so you two are coworkers?”

“Yes! He is actually my favorite coworker and favorite American. For now.” After few glasses of wine and talking to Noah already for an hour, I felt confident in little bit of flirting. If you count that as a flirting.

“For now huh?” at least he seemed to catch on that.

After what felt like forever, Jolly came to get Noah, said that him and the guys are leaving. Noah went with them, we said goodbyes and I thought that was it. Nice tipsy talk, no exchanged numbers, no see you next time.

But exactly three days later I received a message from unknown number, saying “hey it’s Noah, I asked James for your number, I hope that’s ok. We’re having release party for the new album, thought you and James could come if you wanted to :)”

So, me and James went to the party. After few hours I found myself sitting outside again, Noah coming too just a minutes later, saying it was coincidence, but later in our relationship admitted he saw me going out and went after me.

We talked again until James came to get me and said we’re heading home. Same scenario as last time.

And then we had dinner at his place. Dinner at my place. Movie night at his. Movie night at mine. Sleepover at his. Sleepover at mine. Little innocent touches became into lustful and needy ones. Everything went great, we completed each other just perfect.

We didn’t rush into anything, we handled him going on tour just fine.

I also made big decision with extending my job in the states and staying for Noah, not moving back home to Europe. We were perfect, so what changed?

It all went downhill before the guys left for the tour with Bring me the horizon. I always felt bittersweet about them touring in Europe, cause that was my home and it made me feel homesick, almost kinda jealous? And knowing they would then continue with their headlining tour made it even worse.

We made a plan that I would fly to my home country week before their concert there, spend some time with my friends and family, join them for the rest of the tour and go back home with them.

I was handling everything really well through the tour with Bring me the horizon. Loved the content and the opportunity for their band. But everything changed when they released their new song with Lenora. Their support on the tour, female singer from the same label. The song started wave of content with Noah and Lenora. Edits, rumors, theories, because our relationship isn’t public, so everyone thinks they are in one.

I didn’t have any reason to be jealous of her, because I trusted Noah, he knew her longer than me, he would tell me if they had history. It was the edits and rumors and seeing it everywhere. It made me uncomfortable. Everyone saying how cute they are on stage together.

So it all mixed together, Noah being in Europe with different time zone, so we couldn’t talk much, Noah and Lenora content jumping on me everywhere, it was too overwhelming for me.

I didn’t want to take it out on Noah tho, it was not his fault. But something in me changed, some of my insecurities I guess, went out and he noticed.

“What’s going on love?” He asked later today when we were on the phone with worried voice.

“It’s nothing, I just really want to be on the plane already.” I said little white lie, sitting on our bedroom floor packing my things for next days flight.

“Only 9 hours and you’re on the way babe!” he said with excitement in his voice.

“Oh you’re counting?”

“Of course I am! That makes it 7 days and 9 hours before we’re together.” His smiled made me feel a bit better, but I was sure I can’t tell him anything now. He was enjoying the tour so much, it felt wrong worrying him with my feelings now.

“I can’t wait Noah.” I felt like I was gonna burst into emotional mess soon.

“Me too love, me too.” We shared a look through the screen for a minute, before Nick saying they had to go on stage in a few minutes. We said our goodbyes and I love yous and hang up.

I closed my eyes for a minute, just focusing on my breathing and trying not to cry. I couldn’t explain what was going on in my head even if you held gun against my temple.

Long story short my week with friends was amazing. I felt more relaxed, until I saw Noah’s contact on my phone.

Everyday I felt my mood change a bit and my body stiffen more, when he texted or called me. And he noticed. Last few days it projected to the way we spoke to each other. It was cold? Just simple “Hi, the show was great, can’t wait to see you, love you.” conversation for literally two minutes.

Through the week I also couldn’t miss the new content about Noah and Lenora and that made me less and less excited for my hometowns show and for seeing it live. They were going to the next city later the next day after my hometown, so we decided to stay the night at a hotel, which I saw as great opportunity to talk about this tension, that was created by the lack of communication and through phone screen.

I went to the venue earlier to meet the guys there, then I would be coming back in the evening with my friends.

Entering the venue was weird. I wasn’t this nervous meeting Noah for our first date, so that was a weird sign for me. Security guys led me to the green room, so there I was. Standing behind the door, holding my breath in and not wanting to go inside.

It took me few more minutes to calm myself down, but I opened the door.

First person I locked eyes with was Folio. You can’t be sad seeing him excited and happy that he can hug you. Folio is the one I’m closest with from the band, so the hug really gave me a bit of courage that I needed. Then I was met with Jolly’s big hug, then Nick.

Last but not least, right, was Noah. We stood just looking at each other for a minute, neither of us making the first move.

“Hi.” I said first.

“Hi.” was Noah’s reply. I spoke first, he acted first. He grabbed my face by my cheeks and kissed me. Just a peck, as if he was asking for permission. So I kissed him back. The kiss was so tense, nothing like before.

“I think we should talk.” He whispered, keeping this conversation just between the two of us.

“Yeah we should. Can we do that after the show?” I really didn’t want to make tonight’s show bad for me, him or anyone else. He was enjoying this tour so much, I couldn’t be the one taking the joy from him.

“Okay. You’ll leave from here with us right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, meet us here after the show okay?”

“Yes.”

And that was it. I stayed for an hour, but we didn’t talk more then the short conversation. When they left for soundcheck, I left to meet my friends for drinks before the show.

Their new collab song with Lenora started playing and I prepared myself mentally for what I’m going to see.

Lenora was dressed in tight navy jumpsuit, with her long hair in low sleek bun as she started singing her part. I saw Noah come on the stage, with the mask on his face. For most of the song he sat on the led display, but then he came down and I saw them interact in real life for the first time. It didn’t make me jealous, it made me think of how many new videos I’m gonna see the next morning. Their little handshake. Cute, right? Gonna be on my for you page too. The song is great, she is great singer, I don’t have anything against her, I just can’t help the pressure from fans. I knew what I was getting myself into when we became a couple. But you can’t prepare for some things until you live them through.

I enjoyed the show, I love their music and it was really lovely to see Noah performing live after long time, seeing him in his element enjoying himself. We locked our eyes few times, seemed like he was checking in on me, because he doesn’t like me watching their shows from the crowd, saying he’s scared some is going to hurt me. We shared looks, smiles through the entire show. For a moment I forgot what was waiting for us once we make it to our hotel room.

After saying goodbyes to my friends I made my way to the green room. I walked in and felt the good mood coming from everyone in that room.

“Hey Y/N! Did you like the show?” Jolly gave me a side hug after I closed the door.

“I loved it! And the fans did too, wasn’t the crowd amazing?”

“It really was, hometown making you proud huh?”

“Oh definitely, I was scared you’re not gonna come back here if they fucked anything up.” I continued conversation with Jolly for a bit longer, feeling Noah’s gaze on me the whole time. He looked sad that I was talking with a smile on my face to literally anyone other than him. That went on for like an hour, then he finally spoke to me.

“I’m done with this. Let’s leave and short whatever shit is going on out.” Was what he said to me.

“Hey everyone, we’re leaving. We haven’t seen each other for a bit and I’m really tired. So goodnight everyone, thanks for tonight, good job.” Was what he said to others.

Ride to the hotel was silent. Neither of us spoke a word. He already had key cards to our room, so we went straight to the elevator, then straight to room number 497.

Noah opened the doors and let us in. I started opening my suitcase to get something to sleep in, I was in need of shower.

“Can we talk now, please?” Noah finally broke the silence in the room.

“I would like to get shower first. I need a minute to process everything in my head and what I want to say.”

“Oh, okay.” I felt bad, because he looked like he was tired from the show and from whatever was going on between us, like he needed this pressure off his shoulders, but I needed to think what I was actually going to tell him, because suddenly I felt like I was making big problem over nothing.

Hot shower helped relaxing my body, but my mind was still tense. Do I make this bigger than it needs to be? Is he going to laugh at me, my feelings? Is he going to break up with me?

So many thoughts at once. That gave me courage to get out of the shower and get this over with. Release the pressure off bot of our shoulders.

I slowly opened the door that were connected to our bedroom.

Noah was sitting in bed, his back against wall behind him and his phone in one hand. I carefully walked around the bed, sitting on my half of the bed in the same position Noah was. He put the phone down at my presence, but looked straight ahead of him. I did the same. We stared at the wall infront of us for a moment, neither of us wanting to start the conversation.

I never experienced this tension and atmosphere between the two of us. This was new and we didn’t know how to handle it. Neither one wanted to start a fight, things just needed to get cleared.

“I want to say something, but I don’t really know what. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if I did something. I’m really confused now. It seems like everything changed overnight.” Noah was the one to speak first.

“You did nothing wrong, Noah. I don’t know where to start I am so confused with my mind right now.” I felt tears forming in my eyes already, as very sensitive person, I cry every time I have to deal with something. And honestly this was making me so sad I was surprised I didn’t cry much sooner. But I needed to get it off my chest, so I continued.

“It’s just after you left for the tour to Europe, I started feeling really weird, jealous I guess? This is my home and it felt weird, you being here without me. I love that you are enjoying it and loving it here, but it made me miserable. Made me feel homesick, because I realized that except you and the boys, I have like two friends in the states. So, I just felt like everything I was missing was here at the other end of the world than I was. And honestly, I felt like shit.” Before continuing my monologue I turned to face Noah, see if he was listening to me, watch out for his reactions. He turned to face me too, he had look of worry and empathy in his eyes. He made me feel heard.

“And then Concrete forever started and suddenly there was Lenora with you. I know what you are going to say, but let me finish first please. I know we talked about her and I told you that I feel fine about her and you don’t have to ask me for permission to work with someone. And that is still true, but I can’t stand the rumors about you two. I want to keep our relationship a secret from the public, but I really wanted fans to know that you are dating me, not her in that moment. I can’t stand those tweets and videos on my page, with theories about you, how you look cute together and other shit. That hurts me Noah.” At this point I was crying, letting it all out.

His face got worried, he tried to hold my hand, but I started feeling tight knot in my chest and I needed to do something rather than sitting in this bed. I stood up and started walking from one wall to the other. It was also the first time I let Noah speak since the start of conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could talk about it and come up with solutions that would be okay for both of us.” Of course, I was expecting question why didn’t I tell him sooner.

“Because it’s not your fault Noah, or Lenora’s. You do your handshake; you sing together and that’s fine with me. I don’t blame you two. You two are not the ones that make content of that. I trust you 100% and I didn’t want to make you feel like I don’t. I thought I should deal with that on my own.”

“Well we are in a relationship, both of us, it’s never just you. You can tell me anything and I will listen, okay? We can always make a statement or perform differently if that’s what’s gonna help you. I don’t mind that at all.” At this point Noah was standing in front of me, trying to catch my hands in his to make me stop panic. After he managed to catch my hands, he pulled me in for a hug. I realized I needed that. Physical touch, just feel his body. Our chests rising at the same time as he took deep breaths with me and held my head against his chest.

“No you don’t get it Noah.” I pulled away, ready to let all my thoughts out.

“I don’t know what is going on, I never felt this way when you went on tour in the US. I just- it makes me think if moving to the US was good idea. I love you Noah, I do, but you are the only thing keeping me there and when you’re not there, I go crazy.”

“Let’s not make any sudden decision right? Cause you’re making me scared right now of what’s going to happen. Your feelings are valid and I get it, but I’m gonna be back home in a week and then we can find solution together. You can come with us on the next European tour.” As if that was solution to everything.

“It’s not just that and you know it. I don’t even know what solution I want, I’m a mess Noah and I don’t even know what to say, how to explain my feelings.” I started sobbing so hard. I hated this feeling. Feeling of being so distant with myself, not understanding what I feel.

“Oh baby, let me help you. Let me in so we can do this together.” I knew he was asking for me to stop pulling away from his touch, because that’s what I did for most of the conversation.

“It’s hard for me Noah, I’m used to dealing with everything by myself I don’t know how to do this. Maybe I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet? Maybe we should have waited before making it this serious.” I saw the hurt on his face, he was scared of what I’m gonna say next, but there was nothing, just silence.

“I think every relationship has its ups and downs and that break up isn’t solution, if that’s what you mean.” He was being very patient with me, but I saw him losing it a bit.

He was tired, physically tired and I wasn’t helping with this emotional mess. After a moment of him waiting for my answer that never came, he continued. "I hear you, I want to help you, but I don’t really know what you want from me now. We can’t stop going on tours in Europe, you say you don’t want to go with us. What’s gonna happen if next time another female singer is coming along? The rumors won’t just stop, until we make it public. You know I hate that idea just as much as you do, but I’m willing to do that if that helps you.”

He spoke for a few minutes so I calmed myself down a bit, focusing on my breathing, but before I could say something, Noah spoke again.

“And I don’t want to hold you against your will in the states. If you don’t like it there, you can move back here and we can do long distance, but apparently that’s not what you want either.” Guess he just had enough and decided to choose harsh words.

“Yeah well maybe you could be more understanding, that I moved there to be with you, because I love you. I love you, not the country. I would move for you anywhere.” I spoke words of love, but my tone was just as harsh as his. I know repeating the whole night that I don’t know what I’m feeling or what I want is frustrating but attacking me for my feelings for sure doesn’t help.

“Didn’t you say you needed to escape this country? From your broken family and ex? Don’t put this on me, you could have said no to moving.” Ouch, I didn’t expect that.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say now, you know why I took the internship. We talked about that. Don’t make up something that’s not true.” My voice was quieter now, because he stabbed in a wound that he knew hurt me a lot.

I took the internship 3 months after me and my ex-boyfriend decided to end our relationship after 5 years. It wasn’t ugly break up, we grew out of each other and wanted to experience some new things, meet new people. I didn’t leave the country because I was broken hearted, but because I felt like I finally had space to try new things. I chose united states, simply because it was the only open spot that did require only English, not other languages I can’t speak. It’s that simple.

“Something that’s not true? So you didn’t run away from you mother who thinks you’re not good enough and caused you mental problems and from dad that doesn’t give a fuck about you?” ouch again. I didn’t recognize this side of Noah.

“Noah I-“ I scoffed with a deep breath, “why are you bringing this into conversation that is about something else? My family has nothing to do with how I feel about us. And for your information I told you all about that because I thought I could trust you, not for you to have something to throw at me in a fight for fucks sake!”

I let my hand slip through my hair, turning my back to him, because I didn’t want him to see that he made me cry again. But he didn’t stop.

“Well your upbringing has so much to do with how you handle your relationships so I think we should talk about that.”

“You know what I think I should change room with Nick or get new one just for myself. I wanted to have conversation about what was happening to us, but I believe you’re just tired and didn’t mean anything you just said. So I’m gonna pack my things now, leave this room and I’m gonna see what plane tickets I can find for myself for tomorrow. Seems like we both need more time to think about what’s going to happen with our relationship, how we treat each other, because I know damn well I don’t deserve you talking to me like this when I have been nothing but respectful to you.”

“Running from another problem, aren’t we?” He laughed, making reference to me moving to the states.

“Shut up Noah, shut up. Get some sleep and think about what I told you in the beginning. Think about what you want from this relationship, because we’re gonna have another conversation when you come home.”

I didn’t listen if he said anything else, I went to the bathroom to pack my things. When I came back to the bedroom, he was sitting on bed, facing the big window and his back was facing me. I made sure everything was in my luggage, I left my key card on the bed and went for the door.

“Goodbye Noah, I love you.” No reaction from him. My heart ached so much.

I got myself new room, paid for plane tickets for tomorrow evening and tried to get some sleep.

Actually, I cried myself to sleep, thinking of what was going to happen with our relationship once Noah comes back from tour. I didn’t recognize him tonight, he was like a whole different person than I knew before tonight. I was hoping for an explanation, for a valid reason he acted the way he did tonight, still hoping it was just his tired mind talking. Or maybe his frustration from the lack of my communication skills.

I was almost asleep when my phone buzzed with a new message.

I managed to read it before fully falling asleep.

“I’m sorry, I love you.”

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian band #noah sebastian x reader #jolly karlsson #nick folio #nick ruffilo #bad omens band #bad omens cult

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thescrapwitch · 7 months ago

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Bilbo is sitting on a bench in the afternoon sunshine, enjoying the quiet peace of Elrond’s garden, when he sees her: a tall, dark skinned woman with curly black hair and a warm smile. The fact that someone who looks neither elf nor Maiar is in Valinor startles him. Makes him sit up straighter, drop the book he was reading to the ground. All in black, wearing a dress not unlike a Gondorian noble with a peculiar pendant dangling from her neck, she makes for a strange sight. But her smile is so kind, so gentle, and it makes him smile back.

Bilbo debates, briefly, about getting up to shake her hand, but his legs have been very weak the past few days. He does not want to rise only to crash face-first into the dirt by her feet. That would be rude. So he stays sitting on the bench and gives her a friendly nod.

“Good afternoon,” he says.

“Good afternoon, Bilbo Baggins,” she says. Bilbo is not surprised that she knows his name. As he is one of the three hobbits in the blessed lands, it would be more strange if she didn’t. But she says it with such familiarity that it makes him frown.

“Forgive me, my dear,” he says, “but have we met before?” He knows her. Bilbo knows he knows her, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. Like he sent her an invitation long ago and, now that she’s come as promised, completely forgot about their plans. “Were you a guest at one of my birthday parties?”

She laughs. “No. I don’t normally get invited to those. But I heard your eleventy-first one was quite the event! ”

A shame. She seems like she would have been a wonderful guest. “Could you tell me where we met, then? I know we must have met somewhere, but my brain is not as nimble as it once was, and the memory is escaping me.”

“It was less a formal meeting,” she says, “and more like having crossed paths many times.” Her eyes, which do not carry light the same way an elf’s would, are very, very dark. “I watched as you avoided becoming troll food, as you stumbled in the dark and traded riddles with Gollum, as you crept into Smog’s lair and fumbled as the Battle of the Five Armies tore at each other. But you escaped all of that unharmed, and so we never had a chance to be properly introduced. Until now.”

The answer hits him then, the knowledge rising up from his heart. Oh. Of course he knows her. He’s always known her. It was just easy to forget these past years in Valinor. “Death.”

“Yes.”

“Is it time then?” Bilbo feels, suddenly, very self-conscious. He’s wearing his second-best waistcoat today and wishes he’d worn his first-best one instead. He would have, certainly, if he knew such an important guest was coming to visit him. “I am dying?”

“You are dead,” she says, taking a seat on the bench beside him. Death does not appear to be in any hurry, no grabbing or pulling him along to wherever mortal souls go. Instead, she tips her head back to bask in the sunshine. “Mind if I rest my feet? I don’t normally have to travel this far for work, you know. Still, a change of scenery is always nice. Have they been good to you, these immortals?”

“Yes,” he says, because they have. Elrond and dear Gandalf and all the other friends he’s made in this land. He will miss them all, and hopes they will not be too upset to find him gone. He hopes that they will take care of Frodo and Sam, and that they will not waste a long time grieving. Then, because he cannot help but be curious, even at the end, he says, “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Not at all,” she says. “Take your time. The dying part is already over with. You don’t have to go on until you’re ready.”

She really is so very polite. A shame Bilbo never had the chance to invite her over for tea. He is certain that Death would have had lovely stories to share and impeccable manners. “From what the elves have told me, the Vala Mandos is in charge of death. How is it that you are here for me and not him?”

“Mandos manages death for the elves,” she corrects, not at all upset with the question, “and Aulë the dwarves. But mortals, humans and hobbits, you come with me to receive my gift.”

“You’re a much different god than him.”

“Oh, don’t call me a god.” Death gives him a grin, a flash of bright humor. “That’s too fancy a title. I’m less a divine being and more…more someone with an endless task to do. That’s all.”

“My nephew, Frodo, and his Sam, will you come for them too?”

“Someday,” she promises. “But not yet.”

“Good.” Not that he wants Frodo or Sam to die, but all mortal things must, and he’d rather they had a friendly face for such a journey. Let this one be much kinder to them than the road to Mordor was.

They sit in silence for a moment longer. Bilbo takes one last look at the garden, at the bluebells and primroses that Celebrian planted, at the robins searching for worms, at the book which has fallen from his hands and landed half-open on the ground.

It was a good life, he thinks, and a long one. But all stories have to come to an end eventually, and this will be as best an ending as I could ever have hoped to earn. He stands up, straightens his waistcoat, and looks Death in the eye. “All right. I’m ready.”

Death stands up as well. There is a softness in the way she looks at him that erases any fear or dread Bilbo expected to have when his time was up. It feels more as though he is going on a long walk with a dear friend.

“What is it like, this place of endings beyond the circles of the world? Is it…nice?”

“You will see when you get there,” she says, and holds out her hand. “Think of it as one last adventure.”

“Oh, I do like the sound of that,” says Bilbo. He takes Death’s hand. “Well then, lead the way.”

#I rewatched the death episode of sandman repeatedly #because what else do you do when existential dread hits you in the middle of the night #and people you love are dying #I can’t help it: she is my comfort character when I get upset over those things #but then somehow it crossed over with lotr #and then this came out #so enjoy?#my writing #sandman tv #lotr #bilbo #death #crossover

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dehydration-stati0n · 2 years ago

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Kid, Killer, and Law Friendship HCs

Rules Word Count: 1.0k Spoilers: Wano

Kid

Kid is hard to get close to, but once it happens, you've got a friend for life

If he catches anyone messing with you in any way, he'll beat the absolute shit out of them

He's ridiculously protective in that way, especially after what happened with Killer in Wano, he's gonna make sure none of his other friends experience pain or humiliation without him intervening

Despite what his reputation suggests, he's fairly decent at comforting people in his own special way.

He'll hand you a bottle of bourbon and the weapon of your choice, and the two of you will go blow off some steam in the area nearest to you.

If you ever asked him to build you something, he'd reluctantly go and do it. Even if he muttered a few curses under his breath as he did it, he'd secretly be really happy you asked him. He takes great pride in what he does.

If you're friends with him, it'd almost be expected of you to be a part of his little crime sprees. Killer is a good accomplice on his own, but imagine having two accomplices. The three of you would be unstoppable.

He'd almost be magnetized to you, following you around wherever you go. He really likes being around people he trusts, and you happen to be one of them. Even if neither of you say anything.

He might yell at you sometimes, but he doesn't mean it in a mean way. It's kinda like his love language. He gets loud to show he cares about you. It's another one of the weird quirks he shares with people he likes.

Arm wrestles anyone??

I could see them being one of his favorite past times.

Kid is really open-minded. You could bring up almost anything and he wouldn't judge you for liking or hating whatever that thing might be.

He wouldn't mind helping you put on makeup, he actually really likes doing it for his pals.

If you manage to get him to open up to you about his emotions and how he feels, just know you're at the very peak of affinity with the redhead.

Just you, him, and Killer, dressing horrendously and causing problems.

Killer

If you're friends with Kid, you're friends with Killer. You either get both of them or none of them.

He's so thankful you're here, he desperately needs someone to help out with watching Kid

Do you like cooking? He likes cooking. Maybe you could do it with him? There are a lot of people to feed and he'd really appreciate the help.

His way of comforting people is WAYY different from Kids. Some might even say more humane.

He's more of a hugger in these situations. Not much of a talker but he can comfort you physically.

He and Kid are horrible to have as enemies, but if you somehow manage to become friends with them, they'll be the most loyal friends you've ever met. Whatever you need, Killer is there to help you out.

You two are the therapy friends for the crew.

He's really good at calming people down, so if you're ever mad, stressed, or upset in any way, it's probably best to go to him instead of Kid.

He's really knowledgeable about random things within the One Piece world and will be very internally excited if you ever wanted to sit and hear him ramble.

He likes to check in on you and the other members of the crew as often as he can. You've all been through a lot together and he likes to make sure you're all good.

He has a great memory and hardly ever forgets important dates. So if no one else shows up for your birthday or whatever niche date you might find important, just know Killer would be there.

He really likes doing things for others. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you woke up one day to breakfast already made, or errands you were meaning to do already done.

Killer has such a great adoration for graffiti art and likes to go out with you to spray abandoned houses or broken walls with paint. He likes the artistic expression that graffiti holds.

Law

He's really big on quality time so he'll frequently invite you to sit with him in his office or out on the dock depending on if you're underwater or not.

He wouldn't mind it if you rambled on about something, in fact, he'd almost encourage you to do so.

He'd constantly ask for your feedback on a lot of his plans or thoughts he has.

The absolute dryest sense of humor. All. The. Time.

He'll try to solve just about all of your problems. Your noticing you have slow reflexes? Try this. Coffee's giving you headaches? Let him try making a pot. Something about your eye is bugging you? Let him take a look.

I hope you like cheap doctor visits, cause this guy will gladly treat you for free.

Sure, he's normally a private guy, but he'd be so honest with you. If you ask, he'll tell you. You're probably the only person who's seen him smile, or laugh for that matter.

He'd let you draw on his arm with a pen while he worked.

He's pretty strange himself, so if you had any out-of-the-ordinary hobbies, he wouldn't be the one to judge.

He wouldn't ever admit it in front of the Strawhats, but he really does like to explore, especially if it's just the two of you.

There's just something about wandering a new area with someone he finds endearing that's just so pleasant to him.

He loves to have mini-debates with you. Something about his thoughts being questioned makes him fall into a welcomed rabbit hole of new ideas and stronger plans.

Your lawyer in times of trouble.

Most nights it'll be you, Law, and the rest of the crew, sitting around below deck and playing whatever board games y'all got on you at the moment. Chess, Monopoly, Uno. Sometimes you guys'll even do puzzles.

#kid x reader #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #platonic eustass kid #platonic kid #platonic one piece #one piece #killer x reader #platonic killer #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #platonic headcanons #law x reader #trafalgar law #platonic law #platonic trafalgar law

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scullygazer · 2 months ago

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Hi everyone! I hope you all are having an amazing holiday season 😊 This is for the Poang Pals Secret Santa 2024 gift exchange and my giftee is @sagan-starstuff 😊 I really hope you love it! The image makes sense with the fic, I swear 💚❤️

Mischief and Mistletoe

Rating: G

December 23rd, 1994

Fox Mulder hated parties. It didn't matter what they were ... birthdays, weddings, bachelor parties for co-workers, it was all the same to him.

Dana Scully wasn't fond of parties either. While she was used to them having come from a fairly large family that liked to host them all the time when she was growing up, as an adult, she didn't mind stepping back and declining invitations every now and then.

Neither one of them would consider the "FBI Annual Christmas Celebration" as a great way to spend a Friday evening after a long week of work. Both of them would rather be home, watching a good movie and ordering a pizza (Mulder's ideal evening) or taking a long bath with a glass of wine and a book (Scully's idea of a good night).

Here they were however, sitting at a long table with fellow agents conversing over drinks and Hors d'Ouerves. Scully nibbled on a few crackers on her plate and sipped slowly on a glass of merlot. She was switching to water in a few minutes, knowing she had to drive home. Meanwhile, Mulder was staring at his bottle of beer, attempting to pay attention to the "hilarious" story of Agent Thompson's golden retriever stealing a pie the past Thanksgiving but not succeeding. He envied Scully's ability to at least look interested though he sensed her mind was likely elsewhere too.

Scully noticed how bored Mulder looked. The two had been lucky to find two empty seats next to each other. She was at the point however where she was thinking of reasons to get up and leave this thing. It was almost 9 PM. She had used the restroom excuse twice as had Mulder. Luckily, three other agents ended up deciding to call it a night and it was a good chance for her to politely make her exit. She lightly tapped Mulder's foot under the table and subtly nudged his knee.

"Well, I need to get going" Mulder said, standing up and putting his bottle in the recycling bin. Scully followed him.

"Good night, happy holidays!" she said as she left the table.

"See you next year!" one agent said to them. "Haha" Mulder thought. Like he hadn't already heard that one a million times. He was surprised to not see Scully rolling her eyes but he also knew she was far too polite to do that.

As they walked away, Scully thought she heard somebody say her name. She peeked over her shoulder to see two agents whispering and one was pointing at Mulder. Despite it not having been very long since she began working with Mulder and only about a month since she had returned to the FBI after being in the hospital, she was very familiar with the rumors surrounding them every day. "Mrs. Spooky" she would hear others calling her when they didn't realize she was listening.

"Whatever" she thought as she headed into the basement to grab her coat and purse. She had stopped caring a long time ago. If that was all they had to say about her, she didn't think it was that bad.

Mulder wasn't bad either. She had heard about the lengths he had gone to after Duane Barry took her from her apartment and before she found herself in a hospital bed with wires attached to her whole body and her mother and sister surrounding her as she began to wake up and come to. Despite having no memory of how she ended up there, she had remembered the moment Mulder had walked into the room. Not a lot of people would do all that for a coworker, she knew once he told her all about it.

He was different from anybody else she had ever met.

He was special.

Dana Scully was also not someone who didn't plan things through. She was always known among her family, friends, and colleagues as somebody dependable and reliable.

However, she also knew that some risks are worth taking. On her way out, she decided to make one pit stop before getting in the elevator.

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

When she entered their basement office, Mulder was collecting his belongings and looking for his coat. He could have sworn he left it by the door, maybe he put it on a chair? It wasn't on his desk either.

"Scully, I think I deserve extra presents this year. I was a very good boy and I resisted several urges to just walk out or tell Skinner I had an annoyance-induced headache" he said.

"Well", Scully thought. She had her own little gift for him. They had agreed to not exchange anything more than cards this year. Everything he had done for his this past year was already the greatest gift a girl could get.

"Mulder, I did something a little naughty before leaving the party" she said, with a sly smile

"Oh, Scully" Mulder said, curiously "I didn't know you were such a rebel"

Scully reached into the pocket of her tan blazer and pulled out a small piece of mistletoe

She giggled miscevously as she stood on her toes attempting to hold it over Mulder's head. Since she was struggling to do so due to her height (even with her heels), Mulder plucked it out of her hand and placed it over her head.

She turned bright red. Then she went in for the kiss. He met her rosy lips and kissed her back. After a few moments, they pulled away slowly and smiled at each other somewhat shyly.

"Merry Christmas, Scully" Mulder eventually said

"Merry Christmas, Mulder"

----

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoy this and have a very Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and an amazing new year! ☺️☺️☺️

Also... I had to check just because I'm a bit of a perfectionist and December 23rd in 1994 just happened to be a Friday so it worked out very well for that 🤭

#poangpresents2024 #sagan-starstuff #poangpals #txf #txf fic #x files fic #msr #msr fic #mulder and scully #I really hope this is good 🤞#my fics #scullygazer fic

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kinglivv · 7 months ago

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Leaving Her

Kate Stewart x g!n reader

Summary: When you and Kate’s relationship gets rocky, you run away with the Doctor. Four months later, your run in with the Toymaker forces you to confront each other.

Warnings: None

A/N: because not enough attention is paid to the fact that kate uses guns now ALL the time

You find her outside, smoking.

“I thought you’d quit.” You state.

“Yeah well,” she taps away the ash, “we all have our vices.”

You don’t really want to be out here on the helipad with Kate. It’s raining for one, and you’d been managing quite successfully to avoid being left alone with her. However, as the adrenaline of day wore off, you found yourself in desperate need to get out of the command room. The walls were closing in and you hadn’t breathed fresh air in 12 hours.

And there she is.

She’s a vision against the London skyline, blonde hair still somehow perfectly neat and brown eyes still longing, threatening to draw you in.

You remind yourself that you hate her.

You stand next to her for a few silent moments, leaving a healthy distance between you as you regard the view over London.

“You didn’t visit,” she says suddenly.

“Why would I?”

“I just thought…” Kate shakes her head, refusing to look and you and taking another puff. She waves a hand exasperatedly, “It was like you were there one day and gone the next.”

“There was a bit more build up to it than that and you bloody well know it,” you snort. “Late at the office every night. Cancelling our anniversary trip. Forgetting my birthday. It may as well been you who upped and disappeared.”

“You’ve seen my work here. You think I can just abandon it?” she snaps, waving to the building behind. The wind whips around you and her words are carried away.

“You have a second in command, Kate,” you snap back, “You’re allowed to delegate. Have an actual life outside your job.” You want to smack your head against a wall. Months apart and here you were, back again having the same argument you’d had a million times before.

“You knew this wasn’t a normal nine to five when you got with me.”

“Yeah but you changed, Kate,” you almost yell. “Look at you. Where’s the woman who used to take me out to dinner every Friday? Where’s the woman who used to drive me out to the countryside to stargaze? You’re a workaholic.”

“You don’t get to come in here and lecture me after running away with her for the last four months.” She spits.

And there it is. Laid bare. How nights sleeping on the sofa, endless arguments and weeks worrying she was having an affair had culminated in you taking up the Doctor’s invite to travel with her. It was her smile, her humour, her energy, her short blonde hair and brown eyes. If you squinted, the Doctor could be anyone you wanted her to be. You’d packed a bag and left not only your Kate but your planet. It felt like no where was far away enough.

And now the Doctor had regenerated, replaced by someone you didn’t quite recognise anymore, and that had only given you more time to think about all you’d left behind.

“The divorce papers arrived, by the way.” she breaks the silence, “Do you want me to sign them?”

That’s another punch to the gut. Distantly, it strikes you that you haven’t been home in so long that you hadn’t checked your mail. You opt not to answer her.

Neither of you say anything for a moment. Voices carry over from inside the command deck, presumably Ibrahim issuing clean-up orders or the Doctor catching up with his old friends. You shiver in the cold of the helipad. Horns honk in the streets below.

“Since when did you use guns?” You ask quietly, because the silence is agony.

It was something that had been bugging you the minute you got off the TARDIS. Kate Lethbridge Stewart, the woman who was supposed to be reforming UNIT, leading with science and not weapons, had been so eager to whip out a side piece the minute there had been any hint of danger. You’d flinched when she’d so breezily ordered her men to open fire, as if it were a well-rehearsed, familiar line. The woman you’d married had abhorred violence.

Her cigarette struggles in the rain, and she curses under her breath, pulling out her lighter. You watch her, really watch her for the first time that day. You notice the deeper crow lines around her eyes, the hair that isn’t as cropped as she usually preferred it.

“It’s practical,” she eventually offers as explanation.

“I seem to remember you saying you dragged UNIT kicking and screaming to get them to put down their guns.”

“UNIT is a military operation. We’ve always used guns.”

“Yeah but I mean you, Kate.” You reply, “That handgun is new.” You glance at it holstered on her hip.

She shifts self-consciously, shrugging so that her blazer falls over it, obscuring it from your view. It’s a nice blazer. New you think, and it suits her very well. You blink, trying not to get distracted by her figure or that strong hand clutching the cigarette.

“The Colonel and I thought it would be wise for me to carry one after the Cyberman siege on our old office.”

“The one you blew up?”

“Yes,” she laughs bitterly.

“Why now?” You argue, “You’ve seen off the Zygons, the Master, Sontarons. Why start carrying a weapon now?”

She twists her wedding ring. She’s still wearing it you realise, and you look down at your naked fingers in unexpected guilt.

“They tried to convert me,” she confesses. “They were this close to managing it and I only just got away. Had me tied to the chair and everything.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You stare at her, this women who you knew inside and out, who you had dedicated the last three years of your life to. This woman who had seen you cry and laugh. This woman who held you in bed at night and this woman who you had run from. You want to reach out to her, to promise her she’s safe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask instead.

“Didn’t know how,” she shrugs. “Kind of worst case scenario, isn’t it? Nothing compares to a cyberman.”

You silently agree with her. Of all the monsters in the universe you’d come across, none could strike fear into you quite like the metallic, robotic Cybermen could. There was nothing more violating than the prospect of having your emotions stripped away and your body turned into fodder.

“I think I started working longer to stop thinking about it,” she adds. “I mean, there was the big clean-up operation afterwards which took a lot of time, and after that I just found it easier to not stop.”

Shame floods your body. All this time she’d been hurting and you’d abandoned her. You can’t help yourself, you slide an arm around her waist, and then another, pressing your front to her back and burying your face into her shoulder. She still fits in your embrace perfectly, and her hand - the one that isn’t clutching the fag like a rubber ring - cautiously reaches to cover yours.

“I’m sorry Kate,” you murmur. “I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“No,” you feel her shake her head, “God I hate you for it but leaving me forced me look at things. I haven’t been good to you. I am a workaholic. And somewhere along the line I stopped being a wife.”

You blink back tears and press a kiss to her jaw.

“Don’t sign the papers,” you whisper.

#doctor who #doctor who imagine #gender neutral reader #fluff #kate lethbridge stewart #angst #hurt/comfort #jemma redgrave imagine #jemma redgrave x reader #jemma redgrave #kate stewart imagine #kate stewart x reader #kate stewart #kate lethbridge stewart x reader

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literaila · 2 years ago

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the luckiest

part one.

summary: you consider yourself a generally unlucky person, but when you meet peter parker it becomes even more apparent that the universe hates you.

warnings: past trauma, death, grief, self-conciousness, there’s a fire, and spider-man, fluff, angst, all that

a/n: so technically i lied because it’s 3 in the morning. but here you go. disreguard all of the bad parts until i have a chance to go throw and fix it tomorrow. love ya

the weekend after peter came over to your apartment, you were filled with the overwhelming realization that he was your friend.

that he wasn't going to put a label on it, and neither were you, but he still meant a lot more than you'd intended. more than you could've expected.

and he had your number now, so he was texting you.

he was asking you how long you'd be able to survive on the leftovers he'd forced you to keep. telling you that he could feel you falling out of bed from his house.

he was there, even when he wasn't.

and you loved it. you laughed at every message he sent you, felt your chest ache every time his name appeared at the top of your screen. when he asked you what you were doing for the rest of the weekend...

you wanted to respond seconds after every message. you wanted to eagerly joke with him, scold him for thinking so little of you.

you really wanted to be peter's friend.

but the past had a hold on your heart, and it tightened every time you felt any sort of admiration for him. any desire.

so you couldn't be. and you ignored his texts.

it wasn't often that you really thought about it.

you tried to keep the memories out of your mouth, the guilt out of your chest, and the words away from your head.

you tried so hard to just forget everything that had happened. everything that you'd done.

but the images flooded your mouth like water.

they took up any capacity to breathe, any sense of control you might have had.

and you knew, you knew that it wasn't fair for you to try and forget. that there were people--so many other families--that could never forget. that would live with your mistake, your happenstance for the rest of their lives.

and you tried not to think about it.

not to count the days since all of it had happened. not to track the years since it'd started.

but it was three years since you'd mistakenly walked into that building.

three years since you'd allowed yourself to sit comfortably within the public eye and not watch everyone else.

two years since you'd had a friend.

it was easy to push people away. when you were so angry at yourself that you couldn't stand to be talked to, that you had no more idea how to laugh, or want to care about the people you loved. when you started pushing people away, they let you.

and if they pulled at all, they'd come to learn that you were a lot stronger.

so, now, three years later and almost a year into your tragic decision-making, you hadn't wanted to think about how much you'd been craving.

intimacy, in any capacity. someone to laugh with besides yourself.

someone to look at and understand.

to watch the flicker of someone's eyes and be allowed to ask about it, to know what they were thinking about.

you hadn't had a real friend in three years.

there were your old neighbors that invited you to parties, brought you leftover desserts, and flowers when they'd heard what happened.

the girls that had offered themselves up willingly, just if you needed anything.

and then you moved.

in the last year, you'd spoken to hundreds of people. you'd thanked every person that held a door open for you, said excuse me every time you walked by someone just a bit too close. you laughed at strangers' jokes while waiting in line for lunch. you'd said happy birthday to your coworkers.

but you hadn't said a thing to any one of these people.

you hadn't reached out and stuck yourself to them, like some type of syrup, wanting to seep into their pores and discover the very being behind all of these words. you hadn't latched your claws onto anyone, hadn't wanted to.

but peter.

peter was just an accident. he was a man who hated you, and that was okay. but as soon as that shifted into something else--like tolerance--you'd crossed the line.

you probably should have quit as soon as jameson called the two of you partners. you should have left then, but selfishly, you liked this job too much and were too comfortable to even think about walking out the door.

just another mistake you'd wound up making.

and now you were stuck; because peter was something else. he wasn't just a partner, or an acquaintance at work, or a boy that made you laugh sometimes, and texted you about the people at work when you weren't around.

he was hard and strong, bitter and bold, but so incredibly soft.

and you wanted to push him. you wanted to poke and prod at him until you left bruises.

it was your own fault for letting this need, this sort of desperation build for so long.

you'd like to believe that peter is just a coincidence. that you couldn't control who you got along with, and it wasn't your fault that he was funny or intimidating, or incredibly beautiful. you couldn't control that.

and you tried not to think about it.

but like every other time, every other mistake you consistently made--it was your fault.

you knew that.

there was a day when you stayed late in the office.

overtime wasn't a thing at the bugle, but being reprimanded for turning something in late definitely was. and you'd been... slightly distracted the past couple of weeks.

so you're sitting in the dark--with only the flashlight on the phone to find a spare pencil--typing to yourself, and humming.

you'd moved from the cave, as wonderful as it was, to sit in a comfy chair that one of your coworkers had spent way too much money on.

but no one else was there, so you don't think they’re going to mind.

you're going over your own writing, trying to answer emails, and fix any mistakes you'd left behind all at once. you don't want to head home, with all of those people as collateral damage, so sitting here with your computer in your lap wasn't a bad way to spend the night.

it was almost calming. if the building sunk into the ground, you’d be the only one there:

but about forty-five minutes into this, the elevator chimed.

and you knew enough about this building--about the stabilizing structures, the pillars, and columns that kept the walls standing, the schedule of every person that worked here--to know that it wasn't just a janitor coming to clean. you’d studied the floor plan in many reckless hours, and gotten a copy of the building records. you could trust yourself on this.

and besides, jameson believed in taking responsibility for your own messes, which means avoiding the bathroom at all costs.

so, you look up, dimming the light on your computer. it was stupid of you to move from your desk into the open office space, but the back support was a little too good to pass up.

you bite your lip while you wait for someone to walk around the corner.

luckily, you're met with hanging limbs, a t-shirt and jeans, and completely messed up hair.

peter, with all of his casual walking and leaning against walls and coming into the office at six.

he doesn't seem to notice you there, even though you're right in his eye line. he's groaning to himself, bending down to stretch his back, and trying to fix a shoe that slipped off.

he was completely oblivious. but you sort of appreciated the moment you’re allowed to stare.

a moment to notice how disheveled your usually calm, usually controlled coworker was.

you squint at him, testing to see if you're just hallucinating.

but peter is moving around in the dark. he's grabbing something off of his desk--you hope--and being almost perfectly silent as he does it.

and then, as soon as he finally slips his shoe back on, he looks over to you.

"mother hubb--" he gasps while holding a hand to his heart. "why are you sitting in the dark!?"

you lean back in the chair, crossing your arms. "why are you jumping around the office like a college student waking up at someone else's house?"

"first of all--"

you smirk at him.

"i don't like that comparison. second of all, i forgot something here, and i need it."

"what'd you forget?"

peter's face falls--or at least, that's what you think you see in the dark. and then he looks over to his desk, mouth opening, and closing as he reaches for something. "my--my water bottle."

you blink at him. "you needed to come back for your water bottle? it was that important?"

"it's an emotional support thing," peter shakes his head, frowning and scratching at his neck. "i don't need to explain this to you. what're you doing here?"

"working."

"it's 6:11."

"some of us have actual deadlines."

peter scoffs, grabbing his water bottle off of the desk, and walking over to you. "this isn't your chair."

"i'm borrowing it. this is good representation of teamwork."

peter sits down in a chair next to you, getting far too close for comfort. "what are you working on?"

he turns your computer towards himself, scrolling with his ring finger and thumb.

"it's just some mistakes i need to correct."

peter frowns. "this is the article for the bakery on 51st."

you nod.

"this isn't due for at least another week. jameson hasn't even asked me or any of the other photographers to get a cover image."

"well, i like to be on top of things, peter," you say, stealing your computer back. "i'm sure that's very unfamiliar to you."

"why are you here, kid? you don't need to be working on this."

and his words are soft and considerate, but all the same, they feel like ridicule. the judgment coming out of peter's eyes reminds you of a particular day from months ago.

"why are you here, peter?" you ask, frowning. "you could've gotten that tomorrow. you hate this place, why would you bother coming here when you don't have to?"

peter clears his throat, pushing his chair away from you, and tapping his feet against the floor.

you recognize this move now--now that you've known him for months and actually heard the thoughts coming from his head. he's stalling. or trying to come up with something to say.

doesn't matter. you just know that he's hiding something.

"it's not that bad. i just... needed to get out of the house, i guess. needed to get out of my head."

and even though you're almost sure he's lying, you nod. if anything, you can completely understand that. even his presence here, you know, is a bit nerve-wracking.

"so you came here?"

at that peter hits your foot with his. he's smiling that half-smile. "well you're here, aren't you?"

you almost have to close your eyes.

"you didn't know i would be here."

peter tilts his head. "maybe i was hoping."

and then he stands up, closing your computer for you. "c'mon," he whispers to you, breath just inches away from yours. "you can work on this tomorrow. i'll even help if you want."

you laugh at the idea.

but peter ignores it. "let's go get something to eat. if you're gonna work on anything tonight let it be your eating habits."

"i don't appreciate that," you tell him, but stand up anyway.

and when peter walks out, so do you.

monday morning, you wake up to your first alarm.

your eyes open and you stare at the ceiling, wondering when this had happened.

when you'd stolen your own control right out of desperate hands.

and you wait in bed, for an hour, as each alarm chimes; loud and broken. you stare at the ceiling and allowed yourself to feel bitter.

and then you got up out of bed and left the house thirty minutes early.

it was completely unnecessary to be at work before the sun could, but you couldn't sit at home and wait.

so you sit at your desk, watching the water leak from the ceiling.

you know that this isn't just a strange morning, and you hadn't just felt like getting to work early. what you really wanted--want--was to avoid peter. to not have to walk past his desk and whisper good morning to him.

you want to act as if you'd never done any of that in the first place.

but you can't make peter feel the same, and you don't want to.

so when he comes up to your desk around eleven, smiling and tapping on the back of your computer, you have to look up.

you meet amorous brown eyes, honeysuckle, and driftwood.

peter tilts his head at you, asking you a question without asking.

last week you would've been overjoyed.

but today, your eyes sting.

"peter," you say, "hey."

you watch his face twitch, and he almost frowns but seems to catch himself before he can.

"what are you working on?" he asks, coming to lean over you so he can stare at your computer.

and so he can make you feel even more claustrophobic than you already had.

"i'm covering for lindsay and finishing an article for her."

"does jameson know that?"

"yes, peter, i don't offer my talents for free," you say softly, trying not to feel his breath on your neck or his eyes on the side of your face.

he chuckles in your ear, almost inaudibly. "have you eaten lunch yet?"

you turn towards him--mostly to get away from his proximity and to force him to stand up--and shake your head. "no. no, i haven't had time."

peter's eyes are bright and foreign. "do you want to come with me to get some coffee at smooth brew? i didn't sleep great last night, and the mediocre company-supplied coffee isn't cutting it."

you take a deep breath in. you're looking at him because you can't look away. and you can see the circles under his eyes, the slight yellowing of his skin in certain spots. the scar he has under his chin.

you're trying not to frown.

peter is smiling at you. he's smiling that smile that you can't actually believe exists, that feels simultaneously wrong and right on his face.

the smile you've only seen him give you.

and then you sigh. "can i--" you stop, swallow, tell yourself that this isn't worth it. "can i take a rain check? i'm supposed to finish this by the end of the day, and jameson keeps nonchalantly walking by my desk."

"was he whistling?"

"twinkle twinkle little star."

peter's smile falls just enough for you to notice. "ouch, " he says, leaning back and walking around your desk. "that's okay, some other time."

"sorry," you add, like a squeak. and then you mentally berate yourself.

"don't worry about it," he whispers. then tilts his head, still observing you. "do you want me to bring you something back? a latte?"

his hand is out and reaching toward you, he's trying to climb his way back in.

but you'll be damned if you lose peter just out of desire.

"no, that's--" you smile at him, fake and wide. "thank you, peter, but no. i'm okay."

"okay, well..." he blows a breath out, taking a few steps back. "don't work too hard. and don't let jameson see your candy stash."

"never."

peter grins at you for just a moment, and then he walks away.

on tuesday, your chest hurts so bad that you can't take a deep breath.

your limbs laugh and laugh, and your head pounds to the rhythm of someone else's heartbeat.

you call in sick, deciding to give up.

on wednesday, when you wake up you have an email from jameson, notifying you that you'll be taking over an interview for cathy--who apparently, has hay fever--and going to the art museum.

he tells you not to bother to come into the office, and that he'll lighten the article load for the rest of the week so you can get everything done.

he's not asking.

so, you're interviewing with the director of the art museum about a new monet exhibit, and you're going to be accompanied by everyone's favorite photographer.

peter parker.

"hey, kid," peter says, as you fiddle with the visitor badge you're supposed to be wearing.

you don't typically handle giant, public places well.

"hi," you mutter, trying not to look around.

but the museum is huge. it's long and wide and there are so many walls, so many different pillars that could fall on you any moment.

you try not to let it show on your face, how nervous this is making you. you wonder if you could ask the lady at the front desk for a building layout.

wonder if jameson has teamed up with the world to ruin your life.

"you okay?" peter asks, nudging you with his arm.

"what?"

"where'd you go?" he says, amused.

"oh, i'm--just, i didn't get a lot of sleep last night. sorry."

peter laughs and begins to walk up some stairs--stairs. "don't apologize to me. you going to be okay during the interview?"

"yeah, cathy already had a list of questions prepared, so..."

peter shakes his head, looking back at you. "no, i meant, are you feeling alright?" he stops, studying your face and your eyes and every inch of your skin. he's practically burning you. "you were gone yesterday."

"i didn't feel very good. i'm better today."

"you sure?"

you nod, looking away from him, and then you step past him and begin walking up the stairs.

he can take pictures and you can take notes.

it doesn't have to be anything more.

peter waits for you to pack up so you can both walk out together. he's smiling when you look towards him, gesturing towards the hallway you might've come from.

you're hoping that he knows the way out of this maze because you definitely don't.

"how'd it go?" he asks you after you've been walking for a minute or two.

"oh, um, okay, i think. cathy's questions were a bit unorthodox--"

"'do you think monet would appreciate his art being displayed in your museum?'" peter mocks, recalling one of many slip-ups you'd made earlier.

"yeah," you snort. "so i had to improvise. but i don't think they'll be calling jameson about any problems."

"except for when you almost ripped that painting in two."

you scowl, not appreciating his reminder. "i tripped."

"into something that costs over a million dollars. probably more."

"it didn't break," you excuse, glaring at him and walking in front.

but peter catches up because his legs are abnormally long, and he's bumping into you every couple of steps, his hand brushing your arm, his shoulder grazing yours.

he's so close, but you couldn't feel any farther away.

and you know that you shouldn't, but you can't really stop yourself from asking, "get any good pics?"

peter raises a brow at you--which you are definitely not looking at. "nothing new, obviously, but some of them will work. i have to go and edit out all the people walking by."

"even the man with the parrot on his shoulder?"

peter stops walking, turning towards you. "wait. that was an actual person? not just another display?"

you laugh and peter smiles and everything feels fine.

and so ridiculously wrong.

you're quiet for a bit, trying not to think about the ceiling collapsing on you both, or the bridge you're walking on beginning to crack. you're keeping track of the nearest fire exits, and looking for rooms you could hide in if anything happens.

because it might.

you try to keep this indiscreet, only looking behind you every few minutes or so.

peter clears his throat. "do you want to go get something for lunch? there's a good diner just around the block."

you squeeze your eyes shut. this is another hand held out, another thing peter wants you to grab onto.

but there's that pounding in your ears, that heartbeat that you can't let fade.

and you'd like to explain to peter that he should keep his distance. that you can't do this with him, and that it's all of your fault. you want to apologize for letting it get this far.

instead, you say, "i have to go edit an article that i was supposed to be doing today."

"oh, okay." peter nods his head and doesn't say anything else.

you let him walk ahead of you, praying that nothing will happen as long as he gets out first.

and then you leave him behind.

that night, you finish editing the article that you and peter are supposed to work on that week.

you write descriptions and attach them to the file peter sent you with his pictures.

and then you email jameson, telling him that you can't make it to work for the rest of the week.

your hands are shaking and your apartment suddenly feels much too large for you to be in.

suddenly unsafe for every other person that lives here.

you close your computer and crawl under your covers.

and you try to sleep but you keep hearing them scream in your ear, blaming you.

your eyes are stuck in one place when you hear the knock on the door.

they are picturing a girl falling from a cliff, a boy riding his bike, a mother screaming, and a child crying.

you keep hearing someone whisper in your ear, someone begging for your help.

but all of this is interrupted when someone pounds on your front door, shaking the walls and causing you to really open your eyes.

you're thinking to yourself that they'll probably leave if you don't answer--that they'll walk away and you'll be alone again--but then you're thinking about falling down the stairs, about having no one to help.

and so you get out of bed, feeling yourself shake with the effort it takes.

you answer the door, uncertain of what you're expecting.

but it's definitely not brown eyes, not a frown that you've come to covet in more than just dreams.

you suck in a lazy breath, feeling your lungs freeze. "peter. what are you doing here?"

even you can hear how labored your voice is. how damaged and rotten it's become in its misuse.

peter is wincing, and you don't know what else you're supposed to say. maybe neither does he, because instead of answering your question or greeting you with a casual smile he's become more comfortable with, he just walks right past you.

into your apartment--the one place you're supposed to be safe.

even just being in the same room with you, breathing the same air, and seeing the same images feels dangerous.

peter is scanning the area. he's looking around like he can't stand to look at you.

but then he does. "what's going on?"

his voice is rough and his words are fast.

you can't let yourself meet his eyes. "what?" you whisper, looking back to the door.

you could just leave. you could walk out and keep him away forever.

"what is going on?" he repeats, but sternly. like a parent lecturing a child.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "peter, i don't..." you shake your head, eluding the idea of anything being wrong. there's nothing wrong except for the fact that he's in your apartment. staring at you.

seriously staring, because his brown eyes are burning a hole in your smile. they are ruining every ounce of control you still have. "what happened?"

these words are softer. a parent concerned.

you shake your head, brows furrowed. "nothing happened, i'm just--"

"what did i do?"

you swallow, confused and broken and terrified of his voice.

peter is in your apartment. he just won't let go.

"i've been--" he runs a hand through his hair. "i've been trying to remember. trying to think of what happened last week, or the week before, but i can't--"

he looks at you.

his eyes are haunted by something that you put there. a ghost that you've given him.

"i can't think of anything. we were--just, just fine. we were laughing and teasing each other and i thought that." peter stops, closing his eyes. he licks his lips and looks at the ceiling. "i don't know what i did. but whatever it is, i need you to tell me."

"peter..."

his face is concerned and his shoulders are tense as he looks at you. "i need you to tell me so i can fix it."

and all you can think about is whiplash as a car hits a sign. the feeling of snow covering your lungs. all you can see is a woman with tears running down her face, and a hand that can't move. a building that can't stay up.

you're not sure what to do. how to get him away from all of this before it goes too far.

you can't talk to him, and you can't be around him, and you can't keep looking at his lips like they're something you deserve--

"there's nothing to fix, peter," you whisper, repeating the words to yourself. "you didn't do anything."

i did.

"then why are you avoiding me?" peter says, shaking his head. "why aren't you coming to work?"

you look at the ground, thinking about it falling while you're both standing there. you scratch your neck, rub your eyes. "i'm not avoiding you. i just haven't been feeling well, and i, well, i'm not sure what's wrong. but it's probably contagious so--"

"then why haven't you called me back?" he whispers, but bitterly. "why didn't you come to smooth brew yesterday? why didn't you let me know that you were going to be gone?"

you sigh. "i forgot, peter, i'm sorry.”

"you didn't forget," he argues, and his breath matches yours. his sighs sound so familiar. "you're still avoiding me. you won't even look at me. so, just tell me what's going on. whatever it is--"

"there's nothing, peter, just..." you stop, staring at the ceiling in hopes that it might disappear. "just nothing."

you think about swallowing your lies until they suffocate you.

there's just so much.

peter is staring at you. he is waiting for something more.

"thank you for checking on me," you whisper, after a moment. "i appreciate it. but honestly, i just need some sleep, so you should probably go."

"are you serious?" peter asks, and it doesn't even sound mean. it doesn't sound like any voice you've ever heard from him. something desperate. "have you looked in the mirror at all? have you seen yourself?"

"of course, i've--"

"because you look like a ghost. you look like half a person. your eyes are glazed over, and i'm not sure that you're even listening to me. you look like a statue."

beautiful and wrong.

"peter, i don't know what you want from me."

he clenches his jaw. "i want you to talk to me, y/n. i want you to tell me what's going on, and stop pretending like i don't know you, or i don't care about what you're going through. you think it's easy to watch this? to know that something is going on but that you can't trust me enough to tell me?"

"i trust you."

"then tell me how to help," he pleads. "tell me what i can do."

"nothing, peter," you finally crack, eyes meeting his, heart clenching around something that has never been yours. "i can't do this. i can't--i can't, peter."

he's frowning. he's the same man you met nine months ago. "you can't what?"

"i can't do this. whatever this is, whatever we--" you gesture between the two of you with a hand that isn't yours. "i can't do it. i won't."

"you can't do us?" peter repeats, his voice almost stagnant.

the air has stopped moving, and it's your fault. it's all your fault that he's here, that he's looking at you like you've just stolen something important from him.

"i can't do this with you. i can't be your friend or anything else, and i can't have you here right now. i can't let you be here."

you can hear a little girl screaming. you can see a woman you don't know falling.

"why not?" peter asks, no fight left. "what can't you do?"

"i can't let you get hurt because of me."

peter's face goes blank. his eyes stop. "what?"

"peter, if something happened to you, if anything happened--" you stop, shaking your head. "i can't watch that. i can't be there."

he takes a step toward you, hand reaching out like it always does. "what do you mean?"

you take a step back. this dance is one you're familiar with. you trip over your own feet.

"remember what you said about me, that day at the coffee shop?"

peter blinks at you, shaking his head.

"you said that danger was attracted to me. that i was reckless," you swallow, looking at the door like it might call to you. "you're always saying that i'm reckless.

"what does that have to do--"

"you're right, peter. being around me is reckless. being around me is dangerous."

he's frowning. he waits a couple of seconds like the words might start to make sense. "no, it's not."

"really?" you laugh, throat raw and hurting. "how about you talk to any one of the people that i've killed, then? you might want to ask them if you're so sure."

peter stops.

"when i was five," you continue, walking towards him, "me and a girl from my neighborhood were playing tag. we were running around a glass table, and she slipped and cut her arm open, shattered her elbow."

you take a breath in, listening to the voice in your head begging you to keep going.

"and then when i was eight, a classmate got a concussion while we were sledding. i was in the front, but he hit his head.

"when i was ten a friend's parents were driving me home from a sleepover and we hit a sign. all of them--my friend, her mom, her dad--had to go to the hospital. her dad, who'd been driving, was in the icu for three weeks. but i was fine."

peter's mouth opens, but you stop him before he can interrupt.

"ithe older i got, the worse it was. my mom died when i was thirteen. she had appendicitis. she was so busy taking care of me, making sure that i was fine, that she ignored the stabbing pain in her abdomen. she thought it was just indigestion. her appendix burst on the way to the hospital."

you stop, looking around your apartment, at bare walls and ghosts of people that still follow you. "my dad died a couple of years ago in an oil rig accident. i'd gone to see him that day."

peter is staring at you. he is breathing. and he doesn't say anything, because maybe he doesn't need to. maybe he already understands what you're trying to say.

maybe he should run out the door right now.

"you called me clumsy. and i am, but i'm also incredibly unlucky. it rains when i go outside, the power goes out when i walk into the building. i get the worst desk in the office, with a leaky ceiling. i get sent the wrong email about a meeting and walk in late."

"none of that--"

"all of these things, peter, they're not coincidences. eventually, when so many bad things happen to the people you love and not you, you have to look for a common factor."

"and you think it's you," peter finishes. "you think it's your fault."

you shake your head, and there are tears in your eyes. "i know it is. because it's not just the people i know and care about. three years ago, i went to see a movie. and in the middle of it, i decided that i wanted to leave. that it wasn't good enough to stay for. it was april, one of the days that electro attacked the city. i left the building right before he could do anything. i was standing there while everyone still in that movie got electrocuted."

you can't look at peter, but you can feel him there. you can feel his presence like a knife in your back.

"i need you to go, peter. because whatever sort of bad fortune i am, i won't let it happen to you too."

peter makes a noise. "it's not your fault that any of that happened," he says, "you couldn't control any of that--"

"exactly. i can't control it. that's why i stay away from everyone in the office, why i show up late, and why i've been staying away from you. if i'm around, and something bad happens..."

peter is right in front of you, he is taking your hand, leaning down, and cradling your cheek. "nothing bad is going to happen," he promises. "i would rather have you and the risk of breaking a few bones than not have you at all. anything else."

but just like you can't trust yourself, you can't trust peter to understand.

so you push him away, feeling barren and cold inside. the voice in your head is gone. the images have faded away. "i'm not going to let you do that. i won't."

"i'm stronger than you think--"

"peter, i appreciate you caring so much. and listening. and just... being here. but i couldn't mean it anymore when i say that i need you to go."

you meet his eyes, poison trickling down your face. "please."

and then you walk away, back to your cave, and leave peter standing in your apartment, all alone.

it's for the best.

you have to go to work on monday.

if there's one thing you want, it's this job that you like. that you're good that. that you can do without worrying about it.

and you can't lose another thing right now.

you can't.

so you go to work on monday, wearing clothes that scratch your skin, watching people with a bitter feeling in your chest.

any one of them, you think, all of them get to make friends and be around boys they like and...

all of them.

but you sigh anyway, go back to your desk, and sit there. you don't think about peter.

you don't deserve that.

"oh thank god," is the first thing you hear when you walk into the breakroom.

you've been staring at your feet all the way here. you've been trying not to look at peter's desk. trying not to find his eyes and accidentally smile like you would’ve last week.

the floor needs to be vacuumed.

but now you look up, frown on your face. there are three women there, all older than you, all mostly nice.

beth, jade, and rita.

and they're all staring at you.

you clear your throat. "sorry?"

one of them laughs. jade. "we were just talking about you and that young man. we're just glad you're back, finally."

"oh. thank you?"

"honey, he's intolerable as it is, but when you're gone he's a nightmare."

you frown, blinking at all of them. but the other two are nodding. "peter?"

"who else? on friday he almost broke the fridge trying to get his lunch."

beth chimes in. "on thursday he kept slamming the drawers at his desk. i could feel it from my desk. all day, just opening and closing. i genuinely thought he was going insane."

"yeah, he was at the copier while i was picking up a fax from an office downtown, and gave me the nastiest glare i've ever seen. and i don't even think he noticed that he was doing it."

jade laughs again, looking back to you. "that boy is polite enough, but we all know to avoid him whenever he's around."

you swallow, stumbling over some words. "that--that doesn't sound like peter."

all three of them laugh, creating their own chorus.

"well, of course, you would say that."

"yeah, he adores you!"

"you're the only person i've ever seen him smile at."

you take a step back, suddenly not hungry, suddenly not wanting to be at work at all. "what?"

and then they laugh again.

you're rushing out of the building at one.

jameson called you into his office--and by that, of course, he emailed you to come in. and then he asked you why the hell you were still there, and not at the exploration building, interviewing the president of the experimental medicine about the new nerve generator.

which, obviously, you didn't know about.

but jameson says peter is waiting, and you're out the door.

you're walking to the building, only a couple blocks away from the office, and thinking about how you're not supposed to be doing this.

you can't believe that you're covering for another coworker.

but you go anyway because you don't want to leave peter hanging. because you can't not go.

and when you walk into the building, you can see him there, waiting with his camera in hand, tapping his foot anxiously.

his backpack looks out of place between all of the briefcases.

he sees you too, but he doesn't wave.

"hey," you say, walking up to him. your voice is an out-of-body experience. "sorry i'm late."

"we're supposed to be on floor fifteen in two minutes."

and then peter walks away, leaving you to stand there, watching him go.

you and peter aren't making eye contact.

you're standing right across from each other, listening to this very smart, very nice man explain to you how all of the testing works in the building, and something about dna that you don't understand. but you're looking at peter.

and you're not really listening. your hand is writing down his words, but your mind is on brown eyes and flickering glances.

this isn't fair, you're thinking. there's a sting in your stomach, the punishment of double standards.

"wanna see the lab?" dr. hazzen asks, and you smile and nod.

peter is taking pictures of the wall.

you follow this man and your instincts, and you're standing right next to him. you can feel his body warmth, you can feel his aggravation from two inches away.

peter smells sweet. like some sort of candle you'd light in your house to get rid of everything else.

he's not smiling today. you're not missing it.

it's only a couple of minutes later when he finally looks at you, his eyes wide, his hands immediately falling inches above your waist.

the fire alarm has gone off. the sprinklers in the building are drenching you, and making peter's hands feel like an itch you can't scratch.

"what?" you look up, then down, then towards the door. "dr. hazzen, is that normal?"

"i'm sorry to both of you," he answers, looking towards the door. "my assistant will show you the way to the emergency exit. i have some things i need to attend to."

and then he's gone and this woman is ushering both of you out of the room, apologizing for the inconvenience.

you'd like to tell her that her mascara is running from the water. you'd like to ask her how to get the hell out of here before--

"you okay?" peter whispers in your ear, his hand keeping you next to him, covering your shoulder.

"do you think it's this floor?"

peter's face is still. "probably not. i didn't see any chemical testing in the lab."

"could someone have set a fire?"

"i don't know." peter looks around, at the people crowding around the door to the staircase, to the concerned look on dozens of faces.

but you're looking at him.

"peter?"

"i have to--" he looks at you, letting you go. "i left something in that room. i have to go get it."

"what?"

"i'll be right behind you," he promises, and then he's walking through the crowd, ignoring your calls after him.

"peter! c'mon, we can't stay here!"

but even you can't hear your voice amongst the others. against the siren that's flashing in your eyes, blaring in your ears.

and within ten seconds, peter has disappeared from your sight.

you try to push through the crowd, crawl your way back to him, but you can't get through all of the people giving you glares, all of them forcing you along.

and you know it then.

it's all happening again.

you manage to push yourself so close to the wall that you can't breathe.

you've managed to make every single person in this building angry at you, but you'll be damned if you make it out of this--like you always do--and peter doesn't.

you're not going to let him stay behind while you go down, escaping with everyone else.

and you can't believe that he was stupid enough to turn back around.

but now you're doing the same, walking back up the stairs and calling his name.

you're thanking dr. hazzen for not being on the thirtieth floor.

by the time you make it back up, you're out of breath and shaking from the water. but you don't hesitate to burst through the doors of the lab, searching for anything that looks like an idiot of a man.

brown hair, brown eyes, and an absolutely brilliant smile.

an attitude, and a sincerity you can't believe you've been allowed to feel.

"peter?" you call out, walking through another door. looking for a backpack, a water bottle, a camera on the ground.

but you don't see anything.

and you don't know where else he would've gone, why he would have gone anywhere but here, in this room, where he'd recklessly run back to.

"peter?" you say again, pushing a door that refuses to open, looking at the floor for any spare keys around. for any single thing to help you find peter parker.

you push even harder, muscles aching.

and then the door opens all on its own, and you're slipping, bumping into the chest of the person who's opened it.

you're being blinded by bright colors you've never seen in person before.

a strange voice says "what are you doing up here?" there’s a sigh, a groan, or something else. “don’t you know that you’re supposed to follow the crowd of people running out of the building panicked?” but you're barely listening

"spider-man?" you say, muffled and shaking, pushing your hair out of your eyes so you can look at him properly.

but even this surreal moment--where you meet the guy that's supposed to be saving everyone in this building--does nothing to deter you from getting back to peter.

"i have to--" you gasp out, pushing behind him. "my friend is still up here. he came looking for something. i have to find him."

"whoa," spider-man pushes you back, needing nothing more than a hand to do so, he grips around your arm so you can't squirm away. "there's no one back there, i already checked."

you shake your head. "i don't know where else he would be. he promised he'd be right behind me."

spider-man seems to be looking right at you. he seems to be grumbling to himself. "we have to get you out of here," he says, looking around for a door he can push you through.

"i'm not leaving without peter."

you're staring at him with a glare in your eyes, with a finality in your voice. spider-man could glue you to the ceiling and you'd still find a way to get out, to find the one person you care about in this entire place.

"i'll look for him, i promise," spider-man is saying, voice muffled in your ear. "but you've got to leave the building, sweetheart."

"not until he does."

the superhero sighs, putting an arm around your waist so he can push you out of the doorway. "let's go--"

but you don't hear the rest of the sentence. you don't hear anything more.

you can only feel a ringing in your ears. a sort of silence that stops everything, leaving the world to be nothing a mere figment of your imagination.

you can only see spider-man as he leaps towards you.

and when your head falls back, your eyes close in succession.

you wake up to banging in your kitchen.

you're laying on your couch, shoes off, head carefully rested on a throw pillow.

and your neck hurts. your body aches, like you've forgotten just how much physical strain you've been putting on it.

you wonder if it was all just a dream. if you imagined seeing peter again if you imagined meeting spider-man.

or maybe you died, and this is the only home you have left to return to.

either way, you're not sure what that sound is.

but something falls on the floor, followed by an angry noise, and then you hear the faucet running.

there is someone else in your house. and you have absolutely no idea who it is.

if this isn't a dream, then you shouldn't be at home right now. you shouldn't even be alive after what happened in that building. you shouldn't be thinking of anything else but--

"peter," you say, just remembering, just realizing what the whole point of all of this was.

you don't know if you ever found him. you have no idea if he's alright.

so you're sitting up, looking around your apartment, and moving to follow the sound of whoever's in the kitchen.

but a hand stops you, cautious, keeping you from running into the counter. "you shouldn't be standing up," a voice says, and then gently--or maybe not--leads you back to the couch.

you're not sure that you can believe what you're seeing.

spider-man, in your apartment, absolutely drenched, holding a bowl and a cloth.

spider-man, standing right in front of you.

"i'm dead."

you hear a sharp intake of breath. spider-man makes you lay back down, setting his bowl and cloth down on the coffee table beside your couch.

he leans down, and he must be looking into your eyes.

"you're okay," he says. "not dead. you're going to be fine."

"how did i get here?" you ask him, not bothering to process anything he said. "why are you here? what happened? did peter--"

"slow down. you just woke up." his voice is soft and chiding, and he hands you a glass of water, tipping it toward your mouth so that you'll drink some of it. "good. now, let me make sure you're--"

it's then that you almost fall off of the couch, vision blurred, equilibrium completely removed.

"jeez," spider-man is saying, keeping your shoulder up, making you lean back. "could you be any more out of it?"

"probably. where's peter?"

he sighs, taking the towel he brought over and dipping it in the water. "lay back," he tells you.

"this is crazy," you say, instead of listening. "i don't even know who you are."

"really?" the man asks, voice somewhat amused. "because you had a little starstruck moment back at the lab."

you blink. "that actually happened?"

the man chuckles instead of answering, and he wipes your face with the cloth. you can hear him breathing in and out, you can feel your own heart rate rise.

spider-man freezes, tilting his head toward you. "what?"

"did--" you pause, the answer already coming to your lips. you already know, but you have to ask anyway. "is everyone okay? is--"

is peter alright?

he stares at you for a moment, thumb rubbing over the skin of your neck, drawing circles over your pulse.

and then his warmth is gone, and spider-man is leaning back on his heels, raising a hand up to his face, pulling at--

oh.

as soon as the mask moves above his nose you already know what you're about to find. you already know what's happened.

you don't need an answer, or a superhero, or a goddamned article to tell you what happened.

you're looking at this man, at this--brown eyes and full lips and a tight expression on a sinisterly structured face.

a bruise on his cheek.

you reach out to graze your finger over it.

and you can't think of anything to say.

peter swallows. "i was going to leave before you woke up." his voice is raw, and you can't believe you hadn't recognized it fifteen seconds ago. "but i--i just wanted to make sure that you were alright. that you would..."

there's a moment. a silence so loud it bursts your eardrums.

"you hit your head pretty hard. i'm not sure what caused both of us to--anyway, i was worried that you got a concussion. or something else. but i wasn't, uh, i couldn't bring you down to an ambulance without carrying you through the crowd. so i just came here."

your mouth opens. "peter?"

his eyes close, and you finally notice how tired he looks. how worn his skin is under the mask.

peter parker is sitting right in front of you, in your apartment.

peter parker is spider-man.

"i don't expect you to..." peter laughs. "well, any reaction really. i know we've talked about, um, me, before, but this is--it's just different. and i don't have to stay for much longer, i just want you to drink some more water and stay awake for longer than ten minutes."

"i've woken up before?" you ask.

peter's lip twitches and that's answer enough.

"...how?" you whisper, looking up and down his face, watching his eyes follow your every movement. "why?"

peter breathes in, standing up and lifting your legs from the couch so that he can sit next to you. "it's a long story. probably one you shouldn't hear with a concussion."

"my head feels fine. i'm just confused."

peter nods, and he's not looking at you anymore.

but you can't look away from him. you can't help but notice the similarities between his suit and his face, the mask he's left on the floor, and the voice that you've heard on video so many times, the laughter in your ear, and--

you never even realized. it seems ridiculous now.

you clear your throat. "i'm sorry for following you. i didn't know--" you rub a hand over your eyes. "i didn't realize it would cause you more trouble."

and peter smiles. it's that same one he gave you when he apologized the first time. the same sort of olive branch you refused to see.

"it's okay," he says. "i would've come back for you, too."

the two of you sit for a while. peter doesn't speak, and neither do you.

instead, you listen to the way he breathes. you watch his face as he thinks, noting the little wrinkle between his brows, and the slight twitch of his lips every couple of seconds.

you've seen his dimples before, but somehow, you've never had the chance to look at them.

you feel ridiculous. you feel absolutely stupid for ever following him up there, for not realizing weeks ago, for letting yourself get so close to him that--

the guilt swirls in your chest. you shouldn't have gone to that interview. you shouldn't have gone to work at all.

"hey," peter interrupts your train of thought, tapping on your calf. "don't worry about it. everything is fine. no one was hurt, and the police are already dealing with the damages to the building."

you bite your lip.

peter blinks at you, moving a little closer so he can properly observe your eyes. "it's not your fault," he tells you, slowly.

the words are like a hammer pounding on the nails in your chest.

"i know you think this is just another example of you radiating danger--" peter says the words like they're ridiculous, like they're just some idea from a story a kid has written. "but it's not. it was an accident. and everything is fine."

"you can't know that--"

"i can," his voice is a bit louder than yours. "because i know you. and i know that bad things happen, and sometimes it's no one's fault."

you swallow and look away from him. from the eyes that are trying to convince you. plead with you. "peter, i don't think--"

"are you feeling alright?"

your brows furrow. "what?"

"are you feeling alright? because i want to talk to you, i want to explain some things to you, but i need to be sure that you're going to hear it. that you can listen."

you look back to him, confused.

"do you feel okay? is your head hurting?"

"i--no. no, it's fine, i told you."

peter nods, and he runs a finger over the exposed skin of your leg. "okay. are you ready to listen?"

you're not. you're not really ready for anything.

but you'd give anything to listen to peter's voice for just a little bit longer.

"yes, yeah. i'm listening."

peter almost smiles.

"i want to give you an explanation," he begins. "a real reason for why i was so... mean to you, before. and it's just an excuse, really, but i think--" he runs a hand through his hair. "i think you should know."

you nod. peter can't meet your eyes.

"i was terrified of you," he says, "for a long time."

"what?"

his nose scrunches. "you're undeniably beautiful. and intimidating. and something about the way you moved around all of the people in the office, just observing, not needing to join in on any conversation to understand what was happening... i don't know; there's just something about the way you react to things."

you frown, not sure what he's meaning to say.

"yeah, like that. i tried to ignore it for a long time. to push away that pull i felt towards you. but as soon as jameson paired us up, and as soon as you started actually smiling at me, telling me jokes that weren't funny--"

"hey--"

"--but were awkward, and overbearing, and reckless... well. i couldn't just ice you out anymore, not like i did with everyone else. and i was so scared of that--of you--that i took it out on you."

his voice is soothing, and his fingers are still grazing over your skin. and you're partially sure that you've gone insane.

"peter, you've already apologized for that. it's okay. i'm not mad."

peter laughs, a bit stiffly. "that's not all," he whispers, swallowing.

you nod, waiting for him.

you don't know what you're supposed to be doing.

"i know you believe that all of the terrible things that have happened to you are your fault." he meets your eyes, pursing his lips. "and i know that you think that bad things happen when you're around."

there's a second. one moment where your thoughts are echoed against the wall, and you know that peter can hear them all.

"but i've seen more of those bad things than you can imagine. and i know--i know that there's no reason to any of them. there's no reason for people to do bad things, or hurt other people. but they do them.

"and there's no reason for the world to put so much pressure on someone so kind, and so selfless, and listens wholeheartedly to every person she meets."

peter is leaning towards you. he is breathing your air, sharing your secrets. "i've never met someone i love to talk to more. i've never met anyone that i love so easily."

you stop breathing. there is not a single thing, a single pin-prick of your lungs that might get your heart to stop beating again.

"you're not going to change your mind about all of this just because i disagree with you, i know," peter is laughing, he's laughing at you and with you and. "but i'm not afraid of getting hurt. i'm not scared to be close to you. not anymore."

"peter, you don't--"

he leans closer. he says more with his eyes than you have heard from him in the last three months. "i believe that the world is a terrifying place. and i've gotten bitter about it over the past couple of years. i couldn't--i can't understand how great people can be treated so badly, and cruel people can have everything they want. i don't know why, and i don't want to. but you are a person that i know i can trust, without even knowing you. you're someone that i can laugh with, and someone that has turned the world back into something i can believe in."

peter pauses, you pause. and everything stops. "i believe in you," he says, "even if you don't believe in yourself."

his eyes are unbelievable. his voice is overwhelming, and you don't know how, you're not sure how any of the things he's saying can tune out the cruel words you can hear yourself whisper.

but he does. easily.

and this smile that he has on his face, it's one that you've been craving for weeks. one that you've so desperately tried to hold onto, even when you were pushing him away.

"you believe in me?" you repeat, voice breaking.

peter's smile widens. "i do," he says. and he's an inch away. "sweetheart?" he asks.

and you nod.

"can i kiss you?"

peter is close enough that his words are attacking you. his words are terrifying.

but looking at him, listening to him, and feeling the way he's staring at you.

you know that peter has more than enough courage for both of you. you know that he's strong enough to take whatever you can't control.

when you lean in, lips meeting his, you feel luckier than every other person.

peter is there. he is smiling against you.

you're awake, finally.

i’m thinking one more, very shorter, part. maybe peter pov?

let me know what you thought of it! thanks for reading.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @petersirius

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obsessedelusional · 1 year ago

Text

read your mind

paring ↬ Bella Ramsey x Fem!Reader

summary ↬ you’re a famous singer. you meet Bella at a event. the two of you end up spending an intoxicating two weeks together. one day you wake up and Bella is no where to be found. this turns into a vicious cycle of Bella hitting you up whenever it’s convenient for them. when you finally have enough Bella does something extreme to prove their case to you. requested here & inspired by read your mind - sabrina carpenter

word count ↬ 2.4kish

authors note ↬ I love writing but It’s hard to find the motivation. Anyways slowly working through my Bella request. someone requested this so long ago and I started it and never finished it. thank you ily (also I physically can’t imagine Bella as anything but the sweetest ever so this was hard omf)

masterlist

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Bumping in to Bella Ramsey at an a event and becoming “a thing” was something you didn’t have planned for yourself. Yet here you are, have spent nearly everyday together in one way or another since the day you met. The two of you had been following each other on social media for a while so when you to were invited to the same award show you approached Bella. An innocent hello turned into an intoxicating two weeks.

Bella was in town for press, who knows how long they’d be in town? Two famous celebrities running a muck all over Los Angeles. Of course it becomes public knowledge, paparazzi photos of you guys walking out your home get taken. Neither of you aware until the next morning when they’re plastered all over the internet.

You wake up reaching over to find the bed empty. Unusual but you’re not worried yet reaching for your phone. You have several miss calls and texts. All asking about Bella. Your best friend the first to notify you of the photos and then asking if you seen Bella’s Instagram story. Closing your messages app to open it, notifications ten times more than normal.

Bella just posted on their story, twenty minutes ago. You click it open, you are presented with a selfie of you two Bella took a few days ago. Your sat basically on top of Bella with the biggest smile, they’re smiling too. Your feel your heart drop to your stomach when you read what they captioned it. “my best friend”

“Bella?” You call out loud, excepting them to respond. Only there is no response. You try to phone them, no answer either so you typed out a text and press send.

You: best friend? really?

Only a few moments pass before they respond. So they were purposely ignoring your phone call, noted.

Bella: its better than every one knowing

You: knowing what? that this morning you woke up in MY bed and now we’re just friends

Bella: it doesn’t matter anyways I’m leaving back home

Now your infuriated, you call again no answer.

You: so wtf was the last two weeks then?

Bella: we’re just friends

You: you are not my friend and you never were

Bella: I just need to be alone

—

You don’t warrant that with a response. It’s a rough couple of weeks but you eventually move on, accepting that it’s over. The internet finally moving on from the thought of you and Bella being more than friends. For a while you couldn’t open your phone with out more than half of your notifications being related to Bella. Whatever that was is done. For good.

Or so you thought because as soon as you feel like you’ve stopped thinking about it Bella is hitting you up. Your sitting at your birthday dinner when your phone vibrates. Surrounded by everyone you love so your unsure who it could possibly be.

Bella: happy birthday I miss you xx

Your best friend notices your change in mood.

“You okay?” She asks. You don’t even respond just pass the phone her way, watching as she reads it.

“I thought you blocked them.” She says, quiet enough the others around don’t hear. You can’t form a response because you know whatever comes out will not be what she wants to hear. Knowing damn well you’re about to do something stupid. You take your phone back, shooting her an unsure look at her before tucking it away in your purse. Deciding you’d deal with it later, when you are alone.

—

Later that night when you’re alone you respond with a simple thank you. What was suppose to be a good night was filled with stress thanks to the text waiting for a response from Bella. As soon as your message says delivered Bella is calling you. You let it ring for a few moments before answering.

“Hello?” Bella says over the phone.

“Hi.”

“I missed you.” They say and you physically can’t come up with a response. Sitting in silence forcing Bella to speak.

“I’m sorrry, I never should of ended things the way I did. I need you.”

“As a friend?” You question, referring to the comment that lead to the downfall of the blossoming relationship.

“No I miss you in my life. I thought I needed to be alone but I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” You later find out that Bella is in town wanting to see you. It crosses your mind that it seems they only want you when it’s convenient for them. Against your brain telling you this is a horrible idea you agree to hang out.

It’s akward for a short moment but when Bella is the first to initiate conversation you two fall into the same feelings as before. This time Bella’s time in town is longer. They’ll be around for two months filming. Between your two busy schedules you make time for each other. Bella fills your worried mind with empty promises of being something more than just friends. You let the delusions of a possible relationship influence your decisions. Night and day your at Bella’s beck and call.

Only for the painful cycle to begin again. A month into Bella being in town they decide to exit your life with no warning. Your attempts to contact them go unanswered. Until a week later, Bella shows up to your home with some lame ass excuse about needing to be alone. They continue with this nonsense only to keep calling you at late hours of the night. The two of you only communicate and see each other on Bella’s time.

—

Eventually Bella goes home and just as you had expected to happened, Bellas doesn’t make an effort to make things work long distance. A few weeks pass since the two of you last speak. You pretend you don’t care any more, growing used to this treatment. Swearing one day you’ll find the courage to break it off officially. Only this time you see on social media that Bella is back in town, probably for an award show coming up in a few days. In the past by now, Bella has already slid their way back into your bed. You don’t dare text them first.

Your going to start tour in a week and you know that once that starts there’s no way you’ll get a chance to see Bella. Your tour is a few months long and will have you all over the United States. Eventually the award show passes and it’s safe to assume Bella is home or headed home. Their inactivity on social media not giving you much to work off of. You’re checking for the millionth time when you finally get a sign of Bella being alive, a short test message.

Bella: miss you gonna be in la soon

You read the text over and over again, only fueling you with anger. Bella was in town and not once did they think to reach out and suddenly they’re back on the other side of the planet and they want to hit you up. Before you can think about it you send a text.

You: I’m going on tour won’t be here

No response.

You’ve been on tour for a few days now, driving to your second show. Started in Seattle and now your in the tour bus headed for Portland. The first night went smoothly, exactly as you had hoped. Now sat on the tour bus doom scrolling through TikTok, waiting for tiredness to find you. Rolling onto your side and closing the app, opening Instagram. Greeted by a new post from Bella. It’s a black and white photo mirror selfie. Bella’s smiles as they take the picture. A girl stood behind them arms wrapped around Bella’s waist perfectly hiding her face in Bella’s shoulder. The caption a date in the near future.

A mixture of sadness and anger take over, quickly becoming only anger. Bella messages you a week ago about how they miss you. You don’t reciprocate the same energy and suddenly they’re publicly telling the world about this girl. You start feeling sick looking at the photo, blocking Bella on instagram. It’s not enough, so you block their number too. Taking this level of disrespect as a sign to stop whatever the two of you were completely.

When you arrive to Portland, your sad demeanor is noted by the people around you. Even when you go to perform your usual happy self is no where to be seen. At one point you cry on stage, as you sing on of your sadder songs. It gets video taped and plastered all over social media. You singing as tears fall down your face. Fans speculate what it could be about but nobody knows what caused truly your sadness.

After that hiccup it was rough for a good few days. Being surrounded by your team, always being busy, and not wanting a repeat of that night things get better. You alow the hustle of tour sweep you up so you can pretend to forget. The tour goes by quickly, last show left has you back in California. One of your biggest shows yet in your hometown, Los Angeles. You’re filled with excitement as it’s completely sold out.

Only for it to all come crashing down when you’re about to go on stage in a few minutes. One of your team members is cheery about the fact that your friend Bella is in the crowd, not knowing about your past with them. You had done such a wonderful job at avoiding Bella. Limiting your exposure to social media because you figured what you didn’t know, couldn’t hurt you. Allowing a team member post for you, you couldn’t entirely disappear like you wanted.

“Please don’t let them back stage.” Is all you say, your team member nods face filled with confusion. Not questioning your request and leaving you alone. Your sat in front of a mirror, looking at your self. So excited just a few moments ago, now you look miserable. Bella somehow succeeding in ruining another important day in your life.

—

You’re thankful for the large venue because wherever Bella is you can’t see them. Your eyes stay towards the front and rarely venture past the first few rows, doing everything in your power to not see Bella. When the concert finally comes to an end, your exhausted more than normal. Sweating bullets as you head back stage. Your team surrounds you momentarily, congratulating you and sharing a brief moment of excitement over your coming to an end.

You feel bad because you can’t be as excited as they are, eventually getting away from everyone and finally finding solitude in your dressing room. As you walk in your greeted by Bella stood there, looking as uncomfortable as possible.

“What are you doing in here?” You snap, turning your back to Bella fully prepared to leave and get security.

“I know I’m crossing so many lines right now. I have no choice you blocked me. I just needed to talk to you.” Bella speaks, your stomach dropping at the sound of their voice.

“Yeah because you were wasting my time. You only wanted me when it was convenient for you. Then your proudly posting som girl on social media. Not even a week before that you were trying to see me.” You snap, finally letting all your anger out on the source.

“That was a promo photo for the show coming out this month. It was a ploy to get people interested enough to watch my story, if you watched it. There was several stories about it.” Bella explains, a slight grin on their face.

“Doesn’t change anything. Why are you here?” You retort, feeling stupid but not wanting to show it. Bella’s grin disappears before they respond.

“I want to make this work, I miss you.” Bella admits.

“What even is this? One day you say you want to be alone, the next you just want to be mine. I can’t read your mind.” You say, sighing exhaustion heavy.

“I’m serious this time. I promise.” Bella says, looking at you. Trying to gauge your feelings on this.

“I can’t believe a single word that comes out from your mouth.”

“What can I do to prove it?” Bella asks, you don’t have an answer. Bella pulls out their phone suddenly typing away.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” Bella grins, causing you to move closer.

“Check your phone.” Bella adds. You change your course and head for where you left your phone at the vanity. As soon as you unlock it you have a dozen texts from friends and family upset that you didn’t let them know about your relationship with Bella.

“What the fuck did you do?” You ask.

“You’re gonna have to unblock me on Instagram to see.” Bella smiles, laughing softly.

“No thank you.” You snap, switching to your private account. Typing Bella’s name into the search bar and seeing a recent Instagram story. When you open it a picture Bella took of you months ago, when you two first met. Your hand reaching for the camera, in the middle of telling Bella to stop. The smile in your eyes making it known that you don’t want them to stop.

the caption: my girlfriend

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, facing Bella.

“I thought that’s what you wanted..”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you right now. The whole world thinks we’re together now and we’re not.” You say, mostly thinking aloud. You look over to Bella who’s just sat there laughing at the situation.

“Don’t fucking laugh. This is a big deal.” You snap, stopping Bella.

“It’s not too late to post lol just kidding you all have been pranked.” Bella respond causing you to crack a smile.

“No.” You say.

“Oh so you wanna be my girlfriend now?” Bella teases.

“If I say yes you’re gonna have to make up for being such a dick head.” You respond.

“Anything.” Bella responds, desperately.

“I want to go on a real date. Out in public.” You demand.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Bella eagerly smiles.

“Not today. You’re coming home with me tonight.” You smoke, ready to pick up where the relationship ended. Hoping that you aren’t making a huge mistake.

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey imagine #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey fluff #the last of us #tlou

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himasgod · 4 months ago

Text

Eula x Reader

(Not angst, for once and for all! It's her birthday so I wanted to dedicate a one-shot to my beautiful girl. I was also hesitant about writing a eula x fem! reader smut for her birthday, but I'll see if I write it or not. Enjoy! 0.7k words)

Where Eula relaxes with you after a week of missions

The cool wind of Mondstadt caressed your face as you walked down the dirt roads that led you to the outskirts of the city. You had received an unexpected letter from Eula. Her elegant handwriting invited you to one of the beaches where she used to spend time with her recon team. An unofficial date, perhaps, but you were surprised that she had made the effort to contact you after her long weeks away.

Eula was as unpredictable as a storm, you knew that well, but beneath her facade of ice and arrogance there was something that attracted you irremediably, a force that always seemed to be in conflict with itself. She was proud, stubborn, and above all… misunderstood. Being a Lawrence, someone whose history was tied to Mondstadt’s dark past, had condemned her to a life of solitude and scornful glances, and although she always insisted on her search for “revenge,” you knew that what she really wanted was to find her place.

You reached the shore where the waves gently crashed against the rocks. Eula was there, her back to you, contemplating the horizon. Her silhouette looked like a picture of serenity frozen in time, but you knew that, as always, her mind was at war with itself.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” she said without turning around, her voice loaded with that mix of coldness and haughtiness that seemed to be her usual way of starting a conversation.

“And letting you take revenge on me for ignoring you, do you really think I would give you that satisfaction?” you answered with a soft smile, searching her gaze.

Finally, Eula turned to you, her ice-blue eyes watching you carefully. She always seemed to be measuring every word, every gesture.

“I don’t joke about revenge,” she replied, her expression serious but with a small spark of irony. “But… I’m also glad you’re here.”

That last comment took you by surprise. Eula wasn’t usually direct with her feelings, always hiding them behind her sharp words and distant attitude. Seeing her break, even if just a little, that barrier made you feel closer to her than ever.

You sat next to her on the sand, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence that was created between the two of you. It was a pleasant stillness, not uncomfortable. For a while, neither of you said anything. It was as if you both needed that respite after so much time separated by Eula’s missions, by her life always full of responsibilities and struggles.

“How was the mission?” you asked finally, wanting to break the ice.

“Successful, as always,” she answered, her tone cutting, but you noticed the slight satisfaction in her voice. “But it was… exhausting. Sometimes, the true enemy isn’t the Abyss Order or monsters, but the shadows of the past.”

You knew Eula was talking about her last name, about the burden of being a Lawrence in Mondstadt. You’d seen it before, how even after saving lives and protecting the city, people still looked at her with distrust. It was never enough, it never would be.

“You are more than your last name, Eula,” you said softly, moving a little closer. “And you know it.”

She sighed, a dry laugh escaping her lips. “And what am I then? A knight who constantly seeks revenge? A warrior who barely fits in her own home?”

“You are all that, and so much more,” you said firmly. “You are strong, loyal, and though you deny it, you are kind. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

For a moment, Eula looked at you with an expression she rarely showed. Vulnerability. It was as if, only with you, she could afford to let her guard down. Without warning, you reached out her hand, and for a second, you thought she was going to quickly push it away, but she didn’t. Her fingers brushed against yours, a light touch but full of meaning.

“Maybe… only with you I don’t have to keep up appearances,” she murmured, her words a barely audible whisper over the sound of the sea.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew that small gesture, those few words, were more than enough. In her own unique, twisted way, Eula was letting you into her world, a world where vengeance was just a mask and loneliness was a constant struggle.

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder. “You’re not alone, Eula. Not anymore.”

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t push you away either.

The waves continued to crash softly, like a quiet melody marking the end of an internal battle.

You and Eula had finally found a moment of peace amidst the ever-changing tides of your life.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #eula x reader #eula lawrence #eula genshin #eula x you #idk how to tag this again

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

Text

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

Specific Chapter Warning: Mentions/ description of anxiety/ panic attacks

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Chapter 4: Ghost

Adjusting to life in California had been surprisingly easy. Teaching at Top Gun made you feel useful. And respected. Something you hadn't felt in a very long time. In the four months that you had been here, you'd grown close to the Dagger Squad. They considered you one of their own now.

You had let yourself form friendships with them, though you didn't tell them every aspect of your life. You needed a few secrets here and there.

You'd also found yourself spending more and more time with Bradley. He brought a light to your life that you had been missing for quite some time. Both of you were still dancing around the line between friends or something more. You yearned to let him in, to let him see some of the skeletons in your closet, but there would be too many questions. There are too many things you didn't have explanations for.

So, you settled for being wingmen, and dare you say it, best friends.

It was better than nothing

True to his word, you hadn't been able to get rid of Bradley. He came over a few times a week to watch TV, eat whatever you'd made, and play with Hydra and Cerberus. If he wasn't in your apartment, you would pop by his. The two of you spent so much time together, you'd exchanged keys to the other's place.

You weren't planning for it to happen, but Bradley had to go home one weekend to Virginia to see his cousin graduate from college and he gave you a key to water his plants and check his mail.

Phoenix and Halo had whisked you away the next weekend for a girl's trip, and you'd asked him to keep an eye on your Cerby and Hydra. Neither of you had returned the lent spare keys, but neither of you really minded. You enjoyed having that small piece of each other constantly with you.

You hadn't had someone you could count on in your life like this for a very long time. Sure, Minthe and Hecate were there to support you, but it was nice to have someone closer to you. It was nice to feel—wanted.

It was nice to be wanted

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

The warm days of spring faded into the hot months of summer. One Monday afternoon, Hangman stopped you on the way to your card and handed you an envelope.

"What's this, Jake?" You asked him.

"It's an invite. I'm have a birthday BBQ and pool party at my house this weekend. I'll have food and drinks. You can bring your own beverages if there is something you really want, but not required, just pack a swimsuit and the SPF." Jake said before walking away to flag down more of the squad.

You tucked the invitation into your bag and got in your car to drive home. Later that night, you tossed and turned in your bed before drifting into a fitful sleep.

As you drifted off, the silk sheets suddenly became salt water. Your limbs felt like weights as you struggled against the drag of the water. Everything was cold and dark as you tried to keep your head up. You desperately gasped for air as you fought to keep from sinking, but the current was too strong. It was dragging you under. You couldn't breathe.

The water filled your lungs. You scream so loud, but no one heard a thing. Suddenly, you shot up out of bed and gasped for breath. A cold sweat had broken out across your body, and Cerberus and Hydra stood at the edge of your bed, looking at you.

You looked around and saw that you were still in your room on dry land.

You panted as you tried to calm yourself. You opened your nightstand and grabbed some of the lotus flower Dinoysus had given you. You broke off a small part of one and grabbed your water bottle.

Hydra and Cerberus gave you a judging look as you swallowed the herb. "Oh, don't look at me like that." You told them, as you laid back down and let the calming effects of the lotus wash over you and send you to a dreamless slumber.

You just wanted to be numb

Wednesday afternoon, Bradley came over. You'd unintentionally started a routine of pizza and reality TV. There were no expectations, no pressure, just the two of you, some food, and some mindless show. It was—nice.

During a commercial break, you got up to get some drinks for the two of you and take your plates to the kitchen. You were shuffling around when Bradley asked, "You're coming to Jake's party on Saturday, right, Angel?"

You paused as you stepped away from your fridge and closed it.

Why did he have to ask?

"Um—no, probably not." You replied quickly.

"What? What do you mean? Jake can be a massive dick, but he throws some great parties. Do you have other plans or something?" Bradley asks as he hops up from your couch and joins you.

"No, I don't. I was just planing in hanging out here." You shrug. "Then why aren't you going? You're a part of the team now. Everyone is going to be there. Jake is making a shit ton of food, and he had his own pool. We wouldn't have to share it with anyone like we do the one here." Bradley tries to convince you.

"C'mon, Angel, you'll have a good time." Bradley softens he holds your gaze for a moment and can see your jaw tick as you are trying to formulate an excuse.

You don't want to talk about this

"Why don't you want to go?" He asks you.

"I'm just not a party person. Can we talk about something else? Or go sit down before we miss the rest of the show?" You try to push past him and change the subject, but Bradley plants his feet and stays firmly in place.

"No, there is obviously something bothering you about this. I'm your friend, Hades. I just want to know why you're so against it." Bradley continues to pry.

"Bradley, can we not do this? You're going to think it's stupid or that I'm just overreacting." You try to convince him to drop the subject. But if you've leaned anything about him, you know that Bradley is just as stubborn as he is kind.

"Try me." Bradley says.

You sigh and finally give in and gesture towards your couch. You sit at one end, and Bradley takes a seat across from you. Hydra jumps up into your lap while Cerberus curls up at Bradley's feet.

"I don't want to go to Jake's party because I'm scared of drowning." You tell him. Bradley blinks slowly and looks at you with a strange expression.

"Drowning? Angel, correct me if I'm wrong, but you have to be able to swim pretty well to be in the Navy. And you have to go through tons of emergency water training. Why would you be scared of drowning in a pool?" Bradley asks you.

"Because of my last mission." You whisper. You drop your eyes to avoid Bradley's gaze.

"What happened on your last mission?" He asks you.

You sigh and take a deep breath. Were you really about to bear your heart to him?

What if Bradley thought you were weak after this?

What if he looked at you differently?

"I was stationed on a ship in the Indian Ocean. My squad, we went out and did a nighttime recon mission. It was supposed to be routine, nothing crazy. A monsoon was coming in, and the water was just crazy, we ended up moving the mission up because of the weather. Everything was fine at first, but on the way back, we had some faulty intel." We started taking fire." You explain to him.

"I was mission leader, I made sure my crew made it back safe, but I took a lot of hits. Lost both engines. I tried to gain altitude before I ejected, but I couldn't. I hit the water hard when I punched out." You continued.

I was all tangled up in my chute and couldn't detach from it. It was so dark, and the water was so choppy. I kept getting tossed around, and the waves kept pulling me under. It took hours for them to find me. I was unconscious when they did minutes away from drowning." You tell him.

"I spent weeks in recovery and therapy. I couldn't even look at water, let alone go in it. I can barely spend more than fifteen minutes in the shower without having a panic attack." You confess.

You don't tell Bradley, but you did drown on that mission. You just reincarnated before you were rescued. In your three thousand years of life, you'd died a lot of deaths, but drowning, that was the worst one. It was also the only one you had nightmares about.

"Hades—Angel—I—I'm so sorry that happened to you. I had no idea." Bradley says. He isn't totally sure how to respond.

"It's fine, no one knows." You say as you wipe a few stray tears from your cheeks. You can't believe you've let yourself be this vulnerable around him. Bradley is the first person besides the Navy mandated therapist your last post made you see that you've told all of this too.

Now he knows that you aren't as strong as he thought you were

Bradley lets out a heavy sigh. You know he is trying to process what you've told him and trying to come up with the best response to make the situation better because that's what Bradley does. He tries to fix everything. It's endearing really.

"Come to the party with me on Saturday. You don't have to swim, but you can still lounge around, have some good food, and day drink with us. And if anyone gives you shit, I'll take care of it." Bradley tells you.

"Bradley—"

"Angel, I wasn't asking. I'll pick you up at ten." Bradley tells you before turning his attention back to the TV with a smirk on his face. You shake your head.

What had you gotten yourself into?

True to his word, Bradley is knocking on your door just before ten on Saturday morning. Even though he has a key, he doesn't want to just barge into your apartment.

You're just about ready when you open the door for him. He does a double taken when he sees you.

"Wow." He says. "You look amazing."

You smile and thank him. He isn't wrong. You look pretty good. You're wearing a black one-piece suit. The top has a sweetheart neckline that makes your chest look amazing. There is a triangular shape cut out just under your breasts that offers a teasing peak of one of your tattoos. You have a long floral skirt tied around your waist as a cover-up. Your hair is in low messy bun, with a wide brimmed hat over it. Your aviator sunglasses are perched on your nose as you slide your feet into some sandals and grab your bag with your sunscreen, a towel, and a book.

You grab a case of wine coolers from your fridge, and Bradley promptly takes them from your hand as the two of you walk out of your apartment.

He insists on driving because you're both going to the same place, so there is no point in taking two cars. Bradley puts your things and his in back of his Bronco before opening your door and helping you in. He then jogs to the other side, his open Hawaiian print shirt flapping around as he does so before he climbs in. It gives you a wonderful view of the tonned skin under it.

It takes you a minute to realize it, but the two of you almost match. You chuckle to yourself.

The drive to Jake's is about twenty-five minutes. It's filled with fun conversations and throwback eighties rock, which is a personal favorite of Bradley's.

The last bars of an AC/DC song play, and Bradley is about to say something when you hear the almost tropical beginning of your favorite song play. You quickly hold your hand up to shush him.

Before he can even register what is happening, you're belting out the opening to Bon Jovi's "Miracle." Bradley slows down for a red light and watches you, awestruck as you sing every word to the song. He can't help but join in with you on the second verse, and the two of you are harmonizing as he drives down the road with the wind whipping through your hair and the windows down.

As the song finishes, he turns down the radio before turning to you. "You know that song?" Bradley asks with a surprised tone.

"It's only my most favorite song, ever." You tell him with a laugh.

"Really?" He acts like he doesn't believe you. "Yeah, there's just something about it." You shake your head.

"It was one of my mom's favorite songs, too. She said my dad learned how to play it for her on piano and surprise her with it. She used to sing it all the time, even after he passed." Bradley said.

"Well, she had great taste." You tell him.

A few minutes later, the two of you are pulling into Jake's driveway. Bradley throws the Bronco in park before saying, "Don't even think about touching that door handle." He hops out and jogs to the passengers side and opens the door and extends his hand to help you out.

You thank him and remind him you could have done it yourself, and he reminds you yet again, that he was raised better than that.

You grab your things from the backseat, and Bradley grabs the wine coolers you brought before the two of you make your way to the front door. Javy, let's the two of you in. He takes your drinks and puts them in a cooler before wrapping an arm around Natasha's middle and joining the conversation she was having with Bob and Halo.

You find Jake out by the pool in a pair of American flag swim trunks. He is grilling and drinking a beer. He greets you and Bradley warmly before telling you where the bathroom is, where some extra towels are, and that anything in his kitchen is fair game.

You spot a lounge chair under a massive umbrella and take your things to set up shop. The rest of the team meander outside. You apply some sunscreen as Phoenix sits down next to you. Coyote gives her a quick peck on the lips before jumping into the pool with Fanboy and Payback.

Once your arms and face are covered in SPF, you stand up and untie the floral skirt cover you have on and put it in your bag.

Jake lets out a long whistle as he saunters over to you. "Hades, didn't know you had so much ink." He remarks as he shamelessly looks over your thigh and the lettering peaking out from the cutout in your bathingsuit.

"Yeah, I have a thigh sleeve of everywhere I've been stationed." You tell him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to put on some sunscreen, and if you could not burn whatever you're cooking while you oogle me, that would be great." You tell him before plopping down. You're just about ready but can't reach your back. You would ask Phoenix or Halo, but they are on the other side of the pool talking now, and most of the boys are splashing around in the water. So, you politely call Bradley over and ask for his help.

He's more than willing to spread the coconut scented lotion over your back and shoulders. And you'd be lying if you said that his calloused hands on you didn't feel good. You wonder what they might feel like in other places.

He's your best friend and wingman. Stop

Once his finished, you thank him and slather a layer of sunscreen playfully on his face. You aren't sure how much it will help. It seems like no amount of SPF in the world keeps him from turning red.

The afternoon is actually going surprisingly well until sweet, stupid Bob makes the comment, "Hades, why haven't you gotten in the pool? It's like a hundred degrees today. Surely you're hot sitting up there?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Bob, really. I'm just enjoying getting my tan on and reading my book." You reply. That seems to satisfy him and the rest of the squad for now. Everyone except for Jake.

When Jake Seresin threw a pool party, everyone got in the pool. It was like the laws of nature.

After feasting on bugers and hot dogs and ice cream for lunch, everyone took a break to reapply sunscreen, refresh drinks, and chat for a bit. After about thirty minutes, Phoenix and Halo dove in the cool water and begged you to join them. You declined them.

A few of the boys got in and tossed a football around. You peered over the cover of your book. Using your sunglasses as a cover, you shamelessly checked out Bradley. The water glistened off his toned and slightly sunburnt body. You had to bite down on your lip to suppress a moan.

A few minutes later, Jake declared that everyone should play a few rounds of Chicken.

Nat quickly hopped up on Javys' shoulders while Paybacm hoisted Fanboy on his. Omaha helped Halo up, while Bradley scooped up Bob. The rest of the squad watched and laughed at the chaos.

You laughed at how ridiculous everyone looked. Everything was fine until Jake came up to you and grabbed you by the hand.

"C'mon, Hades, you're going to be my partner." He said as he tried to drag you to the water.

"No, Jake, I don't want to." You protested. "It will be fun. It's a pool party, you have to get in the pool." Jake said. You dug your heels in, but Jake didn't seem to care. He quickly scooped you up and ran towards the edge to jump in.

You flailed your arms and screamed at him to put you down, but it was no use. "Bradley heard the panic in your voice, but there was nothing he could do to stop Jake from tossing you into the deep end of the pool before he jumped in behind you.

The blue water enveloped you as you sank down. You struggled to orient yourself as you desperately sought the surface.

It seemed like it took an eternity for your head to break through the water. Once you did, you drew in a panicked breath, and the anxiety set it.

You were gasping for air as Jake and a few others laughed, but the moment they saw the wild look in your eyes, they knew something was wrong.

You were vaugly aware of Bradley and a few others calling your name, but you were blinded with the need to get out of the water.

You gripped the edge and hauled yourself out of the pool, not caring if your knees scraped on the concrete before grabbing your towel and running inside like a frightened animal.

A silence falls over the rest of the group as everyone gets out of the pool to process what just happened.

As soon as his feet hit the concrete, Bradley barrels toward Jake like a bull in a china shop.

"Bagman! What the fuck was that!" Bradley screams as he squares up with Jake. His hands land on his chest and push him back a few feet. Jake recovers and tries to remain composed.

"I was just messing around. I didn't know she was going to freak out like that." Jake defends himself.

"She said she didn't want to get in. You couldn't respect that, could you?" Bradley continues.

"Listen, I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I was just playing around. It was supposed to be a joke! It's not like she gave a good reason for not wanting to get in!" Jake shouts as Bradley continues to invade his space.

"It doesn't matter if she gave one or not! She had a good reason for not wanting to get in. Hades doesn't owe you an explanation. You should have just let it go. But no! Now you've probably given her a fucking PTSD flashback!" Bradley shouts.

That catches everyone's attention. "Wha—what do you mean?" Jake asks, suddenly shrinking down and lowering his voice.

"I mean—ugh—she asked me not to say anything, but Hades wasn't going to come today because on her last mission, before she transferred here, she almost died. She got shot down over the ocean, and her parachute got caught in currents. It was a night mission, and the water was rough, and she almost drowned. She said water has freaked her out ever since." Bradley explains to everyone.

Jake swallowed thickly. "I—I didn't know." He states. "Yeah, neither did I until she told me. I hope you're happy with yourself, Jake." Bradley spits out before turning to grab his shirt and towel and heading into the house to look for you.

You had bolted into Jake's house. You made a beeline for the bathroom and slammed the door behind you before dropping to your knees in front of the toilet and dry heaving. You really thought you were going to puke your guts out, but nothing came. After a few minutes of coughing and sputtering, you sat back and leaned against the bathtub. And then the tears came.

They streamed down your face like a river. They were tears of anger, embarrassment, and shame. You were angry at Jake for throwing you in the pool, but you were angrier at yourself, and the reaction you had.

You were embarrassed and ashamed that everyone saw you freak out. They were probably all laughing and making jokes at your expense right now. I mean, you were in the fucking Navy and afraid of the water.

You could hear them laughing at you now.

The thought of made you cry even harder. You were cold and alone and ashamed of yourself as you sat on the floor of Jake's bathroom. Your shoulders started to shake because you were sobbing so hard.

You tried to take a few deep breaths to calm down, but the anxiety thrummed through your body, racking your brain.

A few minutes passed, and you heard a knock on the door.

"G—go away, Jake. I don't want to talk to you." You stammered out between sobs.

"It's not Jake." You heard Bradley's voice through the door. "Can I come in?" You hesitated before reaching up to unlock the door. Bradley slowly opened it, and his heart sank when he saw you.

You were propped up against the tub, knees to your chest, tear stained cheeks, and shaking.

Bradley dropped to the floor beside you. He pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around your shoulders before pulling you into his lap. Bradley immediately began rubbing soothing circles on your back and whispering calming words.

You melted into his chest as you continued to tremble. "I'm sorry." You sqeaked out.

"Don't be, Angel. I used to have panic attacks when I was a kid. I've been where you've been. My mom used to take care of me and talk me through them. Just take some deep breaths. Try to relax." Bradley told you calmly.

You tried to relax and breathe, but the overwhelming feeling of dread wouldn't go away. Bradley could feel how tense you were in his arms, so he tried something else that his mom did for him. He sang to you.

At first, you didn't register it, but Bradley's soft voice washed over you as the familiar tune of "You Are My Sunshine" filled the small space.

You pressed your head further into his chest and listened to his heartbeat. That, in combination with his voice, started to bring you back from the edge.

You steadied yourself enough to sit up and speak to him.

"Thank you." You told him as you wiped the tears from your face. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, I've been there. My mom used to sing that song to me when they were really bad." Bradley smiles at you.

"She sounds like she was a great lady." You tell him. "She was." Bradley replies.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bradley asks you with genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm so embarrassed." You tell him. He looks at you confused. "Why? Do you think you're the first one on the team to have a breakdown in front of the group? When we were training for our last mission, Phoenix and Bob had to eject. The first time, they tried to get back in a jet after Bob froze on the tarmac and locked himself in the locker room, and Phoenix started shaking so bad she puked on Coyote when he went to comfort her." Bradley told you.

"Yeah, but you guys knew what happened. Nobody out there knew about my accident. All they know is the legend that follows me around. I'm supposed to be strong, unbreakable—not—not weak. And over something as menial as water?" You sigh and bury your head in your hands. Fresh tears threaten spill over.

"No one thinks you're weak, Hades. And don't be mad, but I kind of blew up on Jake and told everyone what happened. I probably shouldn't have, but I wanted him to know how much of an ass he was." Bradley admits to you.

"It's fine. It was going to come out sometime. You didn't hit him did you?" You ask him.

"No, but when I left to come in here, Nat was giving him down the road, and I wouldn't be surprised if she did." You both laugh.

"I'm sorry that I probably ruined everyone's day. Jake probably hates me for ruining his party. Good gods, that's all I ever do is ruin things." You sigh.

Bradley shakes his head and takes your face between his hands. "Listen to me, Angel, you didn't ruin anything. No one hates you, and no one thinks you're weak. You have been walking around with his burden alone when you didn't have to be. I've seen you fly. Hell, I've taken a peak at your file. You are an amazing person, and so fucking strong. You've got to be to put up with us all the time." Bradley laughs.

He looks deep in your eyes, and you can tell he's sincere. "I think you're amazing. You're the best pilot I've ever flown with. You're a great person in the air and on the ground." He assures you.

Your lip quivers as you fight the urge to cry again. Bradley rubs his thumbs across your cheeks, and before you can register what's happening, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

They're soft and warm and taste faintly of the salty margaritas all of you had at lunch. You're just getting used to the feeling of his plush mouth against yours when he suddenly pulls back and looks at you with wide eyes. You push yourself off of his lap and put some space between the two of you.

"Hades—I—I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what I was thinking. You're my superior officer, and my wingman and my best friend. I just—I'm sorry, can we pretend that never happened?" Bradley stammers out. Panic setting deep in his features

"Yeah." You say flatly. You've never felt more dejected in your life.

"Do you want to go home? Get some rest?" Bradley asks as he stands up and helps you to your feet.

"Yeah, that's fine." You sigh, willing yourself not to cry.

"Great. I'll go get our things and meet you out front." He tells you before bolting out of the bathroom. You're left standing there in a daze, the tingle of his lips still on yours.

Bradley quickly goes to grab your things and his. He's still mad at Jake, but more than that, he's mad at himself. He is still dizzy from the way your lips felt on his, how your body moulded with his, like it's where you were always meant to be.

The way you tasted, sweet, with a dash of salty, was exactly how he had imagined it—no it was better. He knew that he'd never get enough of it. But now he was kicking himself. He'd pushed you away so easily when he should have pulled you closer. But, he didn't want to take advantage of you. You were emotional and vulnerable, and it's not the way he wanted your first kiss to go.

He can't believe that he told you to forget it happened and that he gave you some bullshit excuse. You looked so hurt, and that's when he realized you'd wanted it just as much as he did.

"Fuck," Bradley cursed as he shoved your things into your bag, you probably think he is an ass now and he has probably ruined his chance with you.

"Is Hades okay?" Bob comes up to Bradley and asks him.

"Yeah, she's okay. But I'm going to take her home. She's still kinda shaken up." Bradley tells him.

"Understandable. You've gotta take care of your girl." Bob says. Bradley tenses at the comment. "She's not my girl, Bob, were just friends." Bradley tells him sharply.

"You sure about that?" Bob asks, as if he can read Bradley's mind. "Yeah, I'm sure." Bradley says before telling everyone else goodbye.

You're standing by the Bronco waiting for him when he makes it to the front of Jake's house. He unlocks your door, but you yank it open before he even has the chance to do it for you.

The drive back to your apartment complex is silent. There is no throwback playlist on, no playful conversation. Just the sound of the wind blowing around the two of you, and even that isn't loud enough to drown out the quiet for Bradley.

You don't look at him the whole drive back. Your beautiful smile, the one he's grown to love so much, is nowhere to be found.

He silently pulls into his designated parking space. You jump out of his car before he has even cut the engine. You grab all of your things before quietly heading to the elevator. It's a silent ride up to your floor.

You don't expect Bradley to get off when you reach your level, but he follows you down the hall to your door.

You unlock it without a word. "Angel, if you need anything, text me, I'll be right down." Bradley tells you as he stands in your doorway. He's hesitant to cross the threshold and come in. He's not as confident as he was before.

"Thanks." You say not meeting his eyes. "Angel, look—I—" Bradley doesn't know what to say, and quiet frankly, you don't want to hear it. So he settles for telling you that he hopes you have a good evening before turning on his heels to leave.

"Rooster, wait." You call to him. He pauses, you called him Rooster. You haven't used his call sign since the first week you moved here. Now he knows he's really messed things up.

"Yeah, Angel?" He asks as he turns to face you, still using the nickname he gave you.

"Here." You say to him as you had him the spare key to his apartment that you've had for well over a month that he hasn't bothered to ask for.

He's reluctant to take it from you. He liked the idea of you having a key to his place. He feels a piece of his heart break as you press the cool metal into his hand.

"Thanks." He breaths out before leaving.

You close the door behind him and lock it. You shake your head, trying to keep the tears that cloud your vision from falling. You were kicking yourself. This is why you didn't let yourself fall for someone because it always ended in heart break.

Who could love someone like you, anyway?

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