#like yeah it actually happened in the novel were you reading it with your eyes closed :

[twofaceforever]

GUYS GUYS I NEED EVERYONE TO SEE THIS

>be me

>be edward hyde

>check if the mf i just killed is still alive

>flash a random crowd

>steal balloons

>run away

Another proof the J&H Vienna production is the best one (even if i don’t speak a word of german)

[yeosgoa]

10:11 • ғᴇ̀ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇʀ (NSFW)

♡ assistant!Hongjoong x witch!afab!reader

♡ academia, witch, smut

♡ WC • 3845

♡ Warnings!! (tags) • Sex potion, witchcraft, swearing, kissing, praise, spit/drool, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, handjob, titjob, blowjob, manhandling, fingering, creampie, breeding, lactation, multiple positions, anal, knotting, semi-public sex, mutation, vampirism, reader wears long nails, reader has fangs, reader is implied to be shorter than Hongjoong. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)

♡ A/N: this isn't proofread, will do sometime in the future. féconder means fertilizer/pollinate in French if I'm not mistaken. Any French speakers feel free to correct me.

♡ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀

 The rain pattered on the window rather heavily. You and your assistant, Hongjoong were in your school’s greenhouse, while you finished up on your latest potions and he read to you.

   “It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?” Hongjoong recited, pacing slowly back and forth behind you. The novel ‘Dracula’ is in his right hand while his left hand rests behind his back. His glasses perched right on his sharp pointed nose as he tilted his head to the side continuing. “She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I th-”

   “Yes come here, business,” You interrupted right then, beckoning him over. Hongjoong placed a ribbon in between the pages before closing the ages-old novel. He walked over to you until you were side by side, and he looked down at you.

   “Yes, darling?” He raised a brow a bit, watching as you poured a yellowish iridescent liquid into a rather small goblet. “What's this?”

   You handed him the goblet, looking up into his eyes, “it’s supposed to suppress arousal.” You inform, turning back to the pot where you grabbed a bottle to store the rest in.

   “It’s supposed to make me not horny?” He clarifies, looking intently at the potion. You nod in response, “Exactly.”

   “How long is it supposed to take effect?” Hongjoong takes a smell of it, it smells of Gingko Biloba, Red Ginseng, and Yohimbe. There’s also a dollop of a poppy scent in there too. “I’m not sure, we'll just have to see.” You reply, watching the rain pour outside.

   Hongjoong takes a swig, swallowing the potion that felt rather thick in his throat. The taste itself was bitter but sweet. He could get past it.

   “It tastes like…like-” “Anti-horniness?” You turn your head a bit to notice a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Very much.” He answers, smacking his teeth. “What purpose was this for by the way?”

   You paused, thinking about it. Truth be told you actually weren’t sure why, but you could list reasons as to why. “Hmm…” You trailed off. “Maybe for uh… people who struggle to keep it in their pants? I don’t know. People who struggle with sex addiction?” Hongjoong nodded slowly, “I guess that could make sense.”

   There was a comfortable silence passing for a few minutes before Hongjoong felt his slacks tightening. Was this supposed to happen? He believed not, the potion is an arousal suppressant. He opted to keep it to himself, figuring it would go away quickly and that this was just a part of the process.

   However, more minutes passed, and Hongjoong’s breath grew heavy as his slacks suddenly felt twice as small. He let go of his novel and looked down at the floor. “...Y/n?”

   “Yeah?” You kept your eyes on your own spell book, skimming through pages without actually reading them. Your back was faced towards him, bent over the counter. His eyes fell on your ass which your long, tight godet skirt shaped perfectly. His breath hitched, his skin growing hot.

   “I… I don’t think this is a suppressant, Y/n.” He states. His cock is visibly hard, fighting against his slacks.

   “What do you mean, Joong? I-” You turn around to see the view. His cheeks flushed red, visibly sweaty under the layers he wore. His hands gripped the counter, and he gulped. “R-Read that spell again.” He stutters.

   You grab the spellbook, turning back to the page where you followed the steps to create the suppressant. Looking at the header you creased your brows. “Joong, it says aféconder, that’s a suppressant.” You say, feeling bubbling in your stomach. Hongjoong felt his stomach tighten himself, he shook his head. “No… it can’t. Let me see the book.”

   He leaned over and grabbed the book, skimming over the page with a deep sigh. “... oh Y/n…” he closes his eyes, placing the book back down. “Y/n, this is féconder. The ‘a’ was a stain.” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away from you.

   You felt your mind slap you right across the face, and you rested your head in your hands, propped on your elbows. Your hands ran across your face, and through your hair, as you let out a soft but low groan. “Sorry, Joong,” you whisper, and you feel his hand rake up your back. “There has to be a way to reverse it, right?” he mutters, his voice huskier than usual. 

   “There’s no spells in this book that could reverse it, I believe.” You reply, flipping through the spellbook. “But… but we could try something else…?” You suggest, turning your head to look at him.

   “Like…?” He trailed off, brows creased. You turn to fully face him, and hesitantly you reach for his trousers. “We could do this the natural way…” you whisper, not wanting to make it awkward.

   Despite Hongjoong’s obvious distress, he looks at you with an unsure look. “We’re in public, Y/n,” he says, looking around the greenhouse.

   “But no one’s around, right?” You also look around, the rain had gotten heavier, and the doors to the greenhouse were closed. It was just you, Hongjoong, and the plants, along with the dim lights inside.

   Hongjoong gulped, feeling the knot in his stomach twist more before he nearly whined. “Please help me…”

   You didn’t waste time, he looked miserable. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers, then unclipped his suspenders. Your long, black French almond nails raked against his stomach, making him tense up. Hongjoong looked down at you as you cupped his painfully hard bulge, his eyes then fluttering shut as you rubbed him with your palm to at least soothe him.

   He let out a sensitive whimper. His hand then grabbed your jaw, pulling you up as he swooned down for a kiss, encasing your lips in his. At that moment your hand squeezed at the wet bulge in his underwear, feeling the beads of precum against your palm.

   With your finger hooked onto the waistband of his black underwear, and with one swift motion, you tugged it down to his midthighs. Pulling away from the kiss you cupped your hand under his lips, making him spit all his excess drool into it before taking his leaking, wet cock into said hand.

   Hongjoong whimpered again softly. Hair was already sticking to his sweaty forehead due to how strong the aphrodisiac was. He felt like he could cum untouched, but at the same time, it felt as if everything was holding itself in. The tip was drooling and deep red as if irritated, and as you started to pump his cock into your hand you could feel the veins on his shaft pulsating. You looked up at him, his pretty pink spit-covered lips slightly agape. He breathed like he was making noises, but only small broken whines and deep breaths left him. Certain strokes elicited no noises at all, his chest tightening and making him freeze, breath caught in his throat.

   Your eyes visibly dilated at the sight. He’s so pretty it hurts. You’ve taken note of your long-time friend, who was also your assistant’s beauty before, but you opted to keep the relationship platonic. This… is platonic, right? Having his pretty cock in your hand as he silently begs you to take care of the problem you caused him with your stupid mistake. Your honest but dumb mistake. A part of you was lowkey grateful about your unconsciousness though, because then you wouldn’t be here so close to him, seeing the drool dribble down his chin and eyebrows creasing in pain and pleasure. You could feel heat pool at your core, slick dripping onto your panties.

   “You alright, pretty?” You cooed softly, your free hand cupping his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a subtle nod, whining like a bitch in heat. The noise made your clit throb, your hole clenching around nothing. “You’re so pretty, Joongie..”

   You picked up the pace, running your thumbpad over his slit every time your hand got to his cockhead. You made sure to let your long nails brush against his full, purple-hued balls, and occasionally you would swoop down to massage them for a few seconds before coming back up and pumping his shaft again. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Your hand that was once on his shoulder went to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

   Hongjoong slid his tongue into your mouth immediately. You could taste the bitterness from the potion when your tongue slid on his, forcing it into his mouth and running over the roof. Both moaned into each other’s mouths, and you grabbed his jaw, pulling back to spit in his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed it without hesitation, his hands trembling as his grip on the counter tightened.

   Your grip on his cock tightened. Your fingers felt every vein pulsate under your touch, and the shaft twitched. Your thighs shut against each other, and the hot slick gushed out your hole onto your panties, making a wet spot. You could feel a weighed pool, the aphrodisiac now in your system since you kissed Hongjoong.

   Eventually, you let off and unbuttoned your black Lolita-styled dress. Crossing your arms your fingers pinched at the shoulders of your sleeves, pulling them down until your breasts were exposed. Leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw you grazed your fangs down his neck, undoing his button-up and taking it off him. Hongjoong’s skin was covered in sweat, red and hot to the touch. His nipples erect under the caress of your hands, the buds feeling hard enough to hurt without any stimulation.

   Lifting your skirt you kneeled before him, making him lean against the counter for a better angle. You pulled off the rest of the top of your dress, bunching it to your waist as you unclipped your bra as well. Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at you.

   “W-What are you doing now?” he stuttered, watching you drool onto your tits. You look up at him and his lost expression, shaking your head. “Helping you, Joongie,” you mutter, rubbing your saliva over the valley of your mounds. Your hands running over your nipples make you moan, your cheeks heating to a pink flush. Hongjoong stutters out incoherent babbles, and his words are caught in his throat when your tits encase his cock between them, your mouth sealing around the cockhead. Hongjoong’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, drool falling and directly hitting your tits. 

   You start to move, tongue swirling and gliding up and down his slit and tip, the salty, pearly beads of precum leaking into your tastebuds. Your hands hold firmly onto the sides of your boobs, guiding them up and down his shaft as your mouth goes to work on the head. Hongjoong’s shaky hands move from the counter, one raking up to move his wet hair and the other firmly seated on your head.

   “Y/n,” He moans out prettily, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, focused on making him feel good while also trying to relieve him of the rather painful aphrodisiac. You moan softly around his cock, the vibrations of your hum making his balls tighten. Hongjoong whines out a pathetic “mm’ sorry-” before grabbing your head with both hands and shoving his cock down your throat. Your tits drop out of your hands and you choke a bit, taking a deep breath through your nose as he thrusts rather soppily, creaking out little ‘sorry’s and ‘please’s back to back. His voice cracked a couple of times, whimpering out your name. You grab onto his thighs, nails digging into the sides of them.

   Your chokes and gags on his cock echo throughout the greenhouse. The rather humid heat inside makes you yourself sweat as your hair sticks to your forehead and cheeks. You swallow around his cock, his head rubbing against the wet, plush oropharynx. 

   “G- I- gonna- gonna cum Y/n. m’ so close m’ gonna c-cum,” he whines, his thighs tensing up. He unintentionally pulls on your hair, making you whine out as tears sting your eyes. Your teeth nearly bite down on his cock, the slight graze making him stutter his hips.

   ‘F-Fuck do it again-” he whimpers. You suck and graze your teeth again over the veins of his cock, and without warning he spills into your mouth. You pull off, choking. His hands move to his cock, jerking desperately as his cum paints your face and hair. You squirm on your heels, your heels digging into your ass. You open your eyes and watch the last of his cum leak out, and you felt your nipples swell at the sight. Like before Hongjoong now grabbed your jaw, spitting whatever aphrodisiac he had left into your mouth. You swallowed, it was fair game.

   Getting up onto your now aching feet you let your dress pool at them, leaving you in your lace white panties. Both of you breathed heavily, your head against his chest as your arms ran down his biceps. His hands cupped your ass, pulling down your panties as he pressed his knee against your cunt.

   You whimpered, his knee rubbed against your clit before he lifted you up, sitting you down on the metal counter. The heat made you wince, sucking your teeth. 

   Hongjoong gave you no time to adjust, he hooked his arms under your knees and dragged you to the edge, opening your legs up for him. “H-have t’ fuck you,” he muttered, his cock still rock hard despite cumming seconds ago. 

   Your eyes met, irises fully taken up with dilated pupils as if you two were cats. You whimpered, and he spit on his hand, gathering your juices as he slid his hand up and down your slit. He entered a ringed finger into you, the cold silver eliciting a hiss from you. Pulling out he entered a second finger, both his ring and middle fingers curling up inside you. His fingers weren’t all that long but it felt so good. He managed to find spots inside your spongey walls that you hadn’t touched without having to go deep inside you, he was skillful in this as much as he was skillful with his large grand piano that he composed his music with.

   Hongjoong’s cock rubbed against the metal counter, the hot metal sending shivers down his spine as he felt his cock swell.

   When you had enough, you pulled off his fingers, grabbing his waist and pulling him to you. Hongjoong got the memo, slapping his wet cock onto your clit a few times before slowly inserting himself into your hole, making both of you let out loud gasps and whines. Hongjoong was average, about five and a half inches, but you could swear that when he went inside you you felt him grow to at least seven, or eight. His newfound girth stretched you out deliciously, and his manicured, painted nails raked against your thighs. Tears pricked at both your and Hongjoong’s eyes. He sniffled, his nose turning a shade of pink.

   “Fuck,” You whispered, laying against the counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting a couple of stray tears fall. Your gummy walls fluttered around him a few times before he started to move. His hands went to your swollen tits, fondling and massaging them. His palms were sweaty and covered in cum, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples turning the hard buds to an irritated shade of red. 

   With every languid thrust, he hit deep inside you, balls touching the rim of your puckered asshole. The squelching noise of him moving inside you along with the soft claps of his balls against your ass made you feel lightheaded. Your assistant sniffled again above you, hand moving down to your waist as he started picking up the pace of his thrusts.

   Your hands moved to your fluid-covered face, covering your teary eyes as his cockhead hit into your cervix snuggly. You sniffled, opening your eyes to look up at the man above you, rutting into your pussy like a pup in heat.

   “You feel so good,” He sniffles, swallowing down whatever pathetic sound he may produce next. His head is thrown back, then falls forward as a babbling whine leaves his lips. “Wan m-make you feel g-good Y/n.”

   He sucks on the two fingers he used inside you before and rubs them on the rim of your ass before gently pushing inside. You gasp, moaning out loudly as he starts to move them rather languidly compared to his thrusts. The feeling of his cock hitting the right spots inside you quickly and his fingers in your ass going slow made you micro-orgasm, clenching around him as the genuine knot started to build in your tummy. “J-Joong-” You whimpered, before fluttering around his cock as you came, legs tensed up and wrapped around his waist. “Fuck it feels so good,” you sniffle again.

   Pulling his cock and fingers out you quickly sat up, shoving Hongjoong to a nearby discarded chair. You stumble off the counter, holding his shoulders as you open his legs, and hike a leg over his lap. Grabbing his face you stamp your lips against his once more, sinking down onto his cock. Despite just being connected the stretch makes both of you moan into each other's mouths, Hongjoong letting out a guttural, broken cry.

   You started to hump your clit against his pelvis, but that soon turned into bouncing heavily on his cock. The sound of wet slapping skin resonated loudly throughout the greenhouse, along with a now sobbing Hongjoong along with you. The rain attempting to drown out your sounds was almost futile, your head spinning and ears ringing. You didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down his shaft at his own pace.

   “Joong!” you cry out, holding the top rail with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers tight enough you were sure it would cause bruising tomorrow. Your ass collided with his thighs harshly, causing red marks to appear on your plush and flushed ass cheeks.

   Lifting you and slightly hurling you over his shoulder, Hongjoong held your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he began pistoning up into you. You moaned at the sensation of being filled, physically feeling your womb protrude out from your stomach.

   Sitting you back down on him you started to bounce again, rather sloppily this time. Your lips formed in a pout as you whined, hums being produced every time his cockhead met your cum filled cervix.

   “D-Don’ wan’ stop,” you murmured, lips pressed against Hongjoong’s sweaty forehead in a sloppy forehead kiss. His black dilated eyes were glued onto you, tears also running down his cheeks. 

   You began grinding in circles, smothering his cock inside you. You both moaned out sweetly, fangs digging into your bottom lip drawing blood. Hongjoong reached upward, grasping your bottom lip with his teeth as he suckled on the blood. His tongue ran over your bottom lip before pulling away, looking up into your eyes. You started to bounce again, feeling your second orgasm impending.

   “all over y-your cock, Joongie,” you babble, your swollen lips blabbering nonsense as you clamp down onto him, the heavy bounces building up again.

   “Cum, please cum,” you whine, holding your orgasm back. “W-wan it all inside me.”

   Hongjoong started thrusting up again, syncing up in time with your bounces. It didn’t take much, as he started to spill inside your cunt once more, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckled, and as you let go, milk flowed freely from your erect nipples. Hongjoong moaned at the sweet taste, lapping it all up.

   You shivered at the sensation, and Hongjoong pulled away with a pop as he flipped you over, bending you over the counter. With a smack to your ass, he entered your pussy from behind, grabbing a hold of your hair. “C-can’t stop-” he sobbed, pounding into you with no sign of slowing down any time soon. “Gonna keep cumming inside your fucking pussy.”

   “Please,” you whined, shutting your eyes. Your leaking tits raked against the metal counter, painting it a transparent white with your milk. Hongjoong’s hands sneaked from behind you, reaching around to grab your tits. Squeezing them, he pulled you up against his chest, his pelvis meeting the sore, red skin of your ass. Nonstop was he cumming again and again back to back. Your womb visibly protruded, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wrapped one arm around your tits, the other snaking down and feeling at your tummy, feeling the way his cock slid up and down inside you. 

   You came again for a third time without warning, legs shaking. Your eyes rolled back to the inside of your head, and a fourth came on when he didn’t stop.

   “O-oh- oh fuck!” Hongjoong cried, stilling inside you. You fell forward, grasping the counter. You felt his cock literally knot inside you. It grew in size and locked in you like a key. Cum filled you to the brim, you felt like you could vomit from how full you were. Hongjoong was shaking behind you, and he fell forward as well, arms caging you. 

   He whimpered softly, sniffling. Heavy pants and sniffles were shared between you as the last of his cum was milked from him. He finally started to soften, and slowly pulled out of you as your minds went back to being levelheaded. His cock departed with a soft, wet pop, and loads of cum pumped out of you in what felt like gallons onto the floor below.

   “Gosh…” He breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Your legs trembled, and you, exhausted, kept yourself laying forward on the counter.

   “S-So full,” You murmured, the last of his cum spilling out before your womb felt relieved again. Your skin cooled down, the aphrodisiac starting to wear off on the both of you.

   Hongjoong gently scooped you up and sat you down into his lap, as you both regained clarity. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, closing his eyes.

   “Thank you,” He murmured softly.

   “I'll be careful next time,” you murmur back, taking deep breaths.

   “Yeah, make sure it's afèconder, not fèconder.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst)  / Part 2 (Fluffy) /  Part 2 (Explicit)

[rosesareredrosa]

50 Shades of Grey

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: Theo finds one of y/n favorite books on her nights stand which is 50 shades of Grey

w/c: 939

a/n: Some smut not that bad ig i am shit at writing smut

Once I got to my dorm, knowing Theodore, he was already out there sparking up. I stepped in to find Theo with a lit blunt between his lips, his feet kicked up, and he was slouched down in a chair reading a book? Theo wasn't much of a reader, so this surprised me. "Hey! What are you reading reading?" I nonchalantly asked, not even glancing at the cover.

"I don't know. You tell me. It was on your nightstand," he responded, looking at me mischievously. Then it dawned on me. Oh my god! He was reading one of my dark romance novels that I left on my nightstand the night prior. I thought about grabbing it from him, but chances are it was too late. He was already several pages deep.

It was one of my favorites Fifty Shades of Grey. There were a lot of detailed and deranged sexual encounters in it.

"What? You into it?" I teased him. "I'll be honest - kind of," he smirked, and he passed me the blunt he'd rolled. "Why don't you just do one-night stands like the rest of us?" Theo giggled, flipping to the next page, still reading it. I rolled my eyes and took a few puffs. "If you must know," I started, passing the blunt back to Theo, "I do, but sometimes I prefer to read it," I said, biting my lip. "Really? How come?" He looked at me intrigued. "Well, I like how detailed the books are, and I like that I can imagine anyone I want when I'm reading books. When you're with others, you're stuck with whatever usually unattractive person that not my type. Plus, I like having my mind stimulated, not just my eyes and my body," I said, shrugging.

"Oh yeah? And what hot guys do you picture?" Theo asked, teasing me, passing me the weed again. "Like I'd ever tell you," I scoffed. "Why not? Is it 'cause you think about me?" Theo jokingly asked me. However, I wasn't a good liar, and I did sometimes picture Theo. I couldn't help it. He was really hot, even though he was my best friend. I blushed and tried to hold back a grin as I passed him back the blunt. "So you do! You think of me like that?" Theo responded, seductively smiling at me while he took another hit. "No!" I said, but even I remained unconvinced at the way it sounded when it came out.

"Do you ever play with yourself while you're reading these books?" Theo wondered, biting his lip and looking me up and down. "Well, what else would one do with horny material?" I asked, smirking. "Does that mean you think about me when you touch yourself?" He questioned me. Theo loved to stir people up and make them uncomfortable, and it's one of the things, the way he could rile me up so easily.

"Shut up, Theodore," I said, slugging him in the arm. "It's a simple question you've yet to answer," Theo sneered at me. "You already know the answer to that," Theo. Did you come over here just to humiliate me?" I inquired. "Of course not. Only if you're into that," he shot me a look. I couldn't stop blushing.

"You know, this shit is well-written. It's actually making me a little hard," Theo admitted while he slowly started to stroke himself through his pants, looking up at me from the book. Ugh, he was doing this on purpose. "I'd love it if someone took care of it for me," he moaned, seductively grinning up at me and massaging the head of his cock through the fabric of his clothing.

I took in the lovely sight before me, Theo's blue eyes locked on mine, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his fingers grazing the bulge between his legs. I couldn't control what happened next.

I fell to my knees. I couldn't look at him like that and not help him. My mouth fell open as he took himself out of his sweatpants, It was only half-hard, but it was big. He placed it between my parted lips, and I felt it grow bigger as I explored all the ridges with my tongue, and he responded with a breathy and drawn-out "fuck."

I slowly and sensually worked my way around his whole manhood. I left a long lick, starting at the base of his shaft and ending at his tip. I did this a few times, teasing him while his eyes followed my tongue. His cock lightly twitched, begging to be taken wholly into my mouth.

As I wrapped my lips around the head and took him in as deep as I could, I heard him let out a primal moan. I bobbed my head up and down on him, lightly gagging and making sloppy sounds as my lips glided across his enticing dick. I ever so gently ran my teeth along the tip, eliciting more harmonious sounds from him. "This is the best head I've ever gotten, and I have slept with a lot of girls" Theo moaned breathlessly under the flit of my tongue.

The way he watched me, his facial expressions tainted by sexual desire, and his soft whimpers. I felt his dick throb against the roof of my mouth. "Oh god," he muttered while he emptied his seed into the back of my throat. It was thick and sweet and salty, and I obediently swallowed.

Theo let out a satisfied laugh. "Shit, do you have any more books like this? And can I borrow them sometime?" We should do this more often."

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi omg I just discovered you’re fics and girl 🥰🥰 I love them so I wanted to put in a request could you do a poly!marauders fic where reader has anxiety buts hates taking her medication, thanks!!

thanks for reading and requesting hunny! I hope this is okay. fem!reader x poly!marauders

cw: anxiety, medication, swearing

905 words

You weighed the bottle in your hand, hearing the tablets rattle. You debated your options. It was a safe bet to take them, but they made you feel flighty and drowsy. If you didn’t take them it could end badly, but nothing you weren’t used to. You had been stressed lately, but you could manage. You would regret taking them if nothing happened and you would regret not taking them if something did. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You decided against it for the time being, closing the medicine cabinet and walking into your shared bedroom. 

Sirius was rummaging through his part of the closet, holding various pieces up to his body, while Remus occasionally looked up from his novel to give an indifferent shrug or an approving smirk. James was looking at Sirius with googly eyes while he folded the clothes he was haphazardly tossing. 

“See, I think this one makes- hey, gorgeous! -I think it makes my waist pop. What do you think?” He held the piece to his torso, showing off the top. 

“Can’t tell if you don’t put it on.” Remus said, nonchalant. 

“If you want a strip tease Moons, just say so.” Sirius winked, tossing the shirt into his ‘keep’ pile. You shuffled over to James, sitting next to him and leaning on his bicep as he kissed the top of your head and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“You should do this soon, lovie.” James suggested.

“Yeah! You were just saying you needed to go through your clothes the other day. Might as well give us the pleasure of a fashion show in the process.” Sirius smirked at you. 

“Like I said, it’s only a fashion show if you actually wear clothes.” Remus said again. Sirius just rolled his eyes, going back to his closet rummaging. 

You really did need to clean your part of the closet. You also needed to fill out some paperwork, and do some cleaning, and go through your makeup. Honestly, you had a laundry list of things you needed to get done that you were slowly working through. Slow as in, snail’s pace. An anxious jolt went through your body as you thought about it, making chills spread over your skin and your hands feel fidgety. You tried to take some deep breaths, but they just ended up shaky as you began to pick your cuticles. You could feel James studying the top of your head, and it made you more uneasy. You were running the risk of shredding your nails, squeezing your eyes tightly as if it would keep the anxiety out. 

“You okay, baby dove?” Remus spoke up, setting his book down. This caught Sirius’ attention. Unfortunately, Remus’ words did not comfort you, but rather flustered you further. 

“Y-yeah.” You struggled out, breathing becoming more shallow. 

“What’s going on, sweet girl?” James questioned, backing up to look at your face. 

“I- I think I’m just anxious.” You shook, still picking at your nails. You bit hard on your lip thinking it would help. It didn’t. Sirius dropped the trousers he was holding and hurried over. 

“Shit, baby. Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay.” He took your offending hands in one of his larger ones and freed your lip from its abuse with the other. They were used to this with you, which you regretted. James was petting your head gently. You could hear the skepticism in Remus’ voice.

“Did you take your medicine today, lovely?” His amber eyes searched your worried face. You just looked down, shaking your head. 

Sirius was exasperated. “Baby,” He chided. “We’ve talked about this.” He said as Remus sighed and stood up to fetch your pill bottle. 

“I know,” You said, shamefully. Sirius decided not to scold you worse in your fragile state. 

“Here, drink this.” James handed you his water bottle, opening it for you. You drank up, the cool liquid helping your state. Remus returned with your medication, watching you intensely as you took the dose. When you swallowed, Remus took your chin in his hand, lifting your face to look at him. 

“I know you have a hard time with this, but you’ve gotta look after yourself. It’s worse when you don’t, sweet girl." He was gentle but desperate as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. You nodded, hiding in James' chest. He was graceful, and gently rocked you, hoping to calm your nervous system. Sirius grabbed one of your hands again, lifting it to kiss each of your knuckles. 

“You feeling better, baby?” His eyes were unusually round and glossy. 

“Yes, loads better. Thank you guys. I’m sorry I get like this.” 

“Don’t be sorry, sweetness.” James kissed the top of your head again. “Just try to be nicer to yourself. There’s a reason you were given the medication.” 

“I know.” You settled, your breathing finally returning to a normal rate. Sirius looked most relieved, giving in and tackling you onto the bed, making James squawk in protest. 

“Geez Pads, don’t crush the poor thing. She’s fragile.” James relented to stroking Sirius' hair out of his face as the boy grinned on top of you. 

“Shush, Prongs. I’m trying to enjoy this.” He turned his gaze to you. “Besides, I heard pressure helps anxiety.” He put all his weight on you, needling his arms underneath your body to squeeze you against him. 

He was right. It did help.

[moonstruckme]

Glad your back love! I have a request if that’s alright. Remus and reader going on a bookstore date and lunch or something!! That would be so cute. Imagine how excited both of them would be picking out books and being affectionate. Just a lot of fluff and cuteness. Thanks sweetness hope you enjoyed your break!

Thanks for requesting sweetness!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re feeling a bit guilty about the teas you’ve snuck in, but if there are two people who can be trusted around books, it’s you and Remus. He takes a careful sip as he leans in to skim the titles, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pants. 

“Island of Love,” he reads, amusement lilting his tone. “Original.” 

“I think I’ve actually read some of that author’s stuff,” you say. 

Remus quirks a brow at you interestedly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the novel from the shelf. “Let’s see, a summer wedding, the groom’s brother and bride’s maid of honor hate each other, but—oh, he’s frustratingly attractive…and something about passionate summer heat.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wonder what that could be alluding to.” 

“Alright.” You steal the book from him, slotting back into its space. “I never said this stuff was, like, literature to be studied at Oxford. If you’re going to disrespect my section, run along to yours.” 

“Fairly sure it’s considered rude to abandon your date,” he muses. “What’s my section, by the way?”

“Depressing stuff.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” You take a sip of your own tea, trying not to fluster under his attention. You scan the shelves idly for a distraction. “It’s all rather doom and gloom. Very well-written doom and gloom, to be fair, but I’m not always looking to have my life changed. This stuff is fun, at least.” 

“I see,” he hums. “Oh, this looks familiar.” 

You turn to see him holding up the shiny new version of the worn and waterstained paperback that rests perpetually on your nightstand at home. 

“How do you know about that?” you ask him. 

Remus smiles. Your heart flutters. “It was on the coffee table when I was over last week. Are you rereading it?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug, turning your eyes away from him. “I reread it a lot, it’s my favorite.” 

“Mm, I noticed it looked fairly battered.” 

“Well-loved,” you correct him. 

He chuckles quietly, and you grin because you can’t help it. “Right, so sorry. My mistake.” 

You brush a piece of hair out of your face, slotting it behind your ear. Watch Remus’ eyes track the movement. “So what’s your battered book?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your favorite,” you clarify. “The book that’s all war torn and full of nonsensical annotations.”

He thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I have a few I go back and forth between, but lately it’s been The Secret History.” 

You have to cover your mouth with a hand to hide the full breadth of your smile, and Remus narrows his eyes at you. 

“What?” he asks.

“That book is so depressing.” You shake your head, delighted at being so right. “I mean, it’s beautifully written,” you amend. “Really gorgeous. I’m just not sure I found the plot as compelling as the prose.” 

His mouth actually drops open. You can’t tell how much of the shock is teasing and how much is real. “You thought that book had no plot?” 

“No, I mean, plenty happened.” You turn to face him, forgetting about the books around you for a moment to focus on this one. “But I felt like it happened so slowly, and there was so much in between that was just tons of description. It was like they almost skimmed over the murder part! There were so many plotlines that were brought in and then just disappeared, though I guess I can respect the ways in which it reflected real life.”

You think for a second that Remus might argue with you (he should, really—it’s his favorite book and you’re slandering it), but he keeps his mouth shut, watching you interestedly. 

“And don’t you think Richard was a bit passive? Henry and Bunny had so much going on, but the narrator could have literally been a fly on the wall the whole time. He kind of reminds me of Nick Carroway, you know?” 

“From the Great Gastby?” He tilts his head, eyes squinting a bit (it’s devastatingly cute). “How’s that?” 

“Just, they’re both such flat characters.” You frown. “I don’t really think either of them needed to be in the story at all. I mean, having a narrator that’s a character with no personality is effectively the same as having a non-omniscient third-person narrator, right?” 

Remus is biting the inside corner of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Right.” 

“What?”

“I’m just thinking that I need to get you talking about books more often,” he says. And that’s real affection in his eyes, mixed in with the humor. 

You look down, grinning at the front of your shirt, but his little smile doesn’t waver. 

“Shouldn’t be hard,” you say. An awkward, obvious sidestep of the compliment, but he lets you get away with it. “Your turn. Let’s go to your section.” 

He shrugs. “If you think you can stand it,” he says, but starts moving in that direction. You notice he’s still holding the copy of your favorite book. 

“Aren’t you going to put that back?” 

“No.” He doesn’t need to look down to know what you’re talking about. “You’ve already torn one of my choice novels to shreds, now it’s my turn to read yours.” 

A little bite of nervousness snips behind your belly button even as his sidelong look lets you know he’s only joking. “You could always borrow mine.” 

Remus blinks. “I’m flattered that you’d trust me with it,” he says, and it almost has you blushing again, that he knows the significance of you offering him your copy, “but I think I’ll read the un-annotated version first. But if the offer still stands after I’m finished, I’d love to read your thoughts on it.” 

He says it like it’s nothing. Like taking the time to read your favorite book twice, just so he can get to know you more thoroughly, isn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever so much as thought of doing for you. You worry that if you look down, your heart will be glowing right through your shirt.

“Alright.” You muster your courage, taking him by the hand. “But now we also have to find one to read together.” 

Remus has looked down at your joined hands, something like shyness coloring his expression, but he looks up to quirk an eyebrow at you. “Are you so sure we’ll be able to find something we can agree upon?” “So long as it involves a main character that actually does something, I think we can manage.”

[reiding-writing]

Hiii, I absolutely loved immortal it was adorable! I was wondering if I could request a fluff fic w Gn!reader where when Spencer goes to the swing set after the whole thing with Cat at the restaurant reader also goes there maybe to read a book and it's a whole meet cute kinda thing cause it's one of his favorite authors or smth? sry for the long request I was trying to be specific Imao

swinging [s.r]

Summary:

You attempt to find your usual late night escape in the empty play park late one evening after an argument with your boyfriend, instead you find a handsome stranger that you find oddly endearing.

WARNINGS: shitty boyfriend (not spencer obviously)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda hurt/comfort)

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: i am reuploading this once and once only so if it doesn’t upload to the tags again then i am giving up-

“It’s a little late for a play date don’t you think?”

Your comment clearly catches the boy in front of you off guard, his head shooting upwards and his eyes wide like he was in a state of fight or flight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” You take a second to admire the man in front of you through your apology.

His hair was fluffy, bordering curly, and long enough that it was getting caught in his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

His eyes were big, round, and practically glistening in the warm lighting of the lamp post to your left.

He was dressed in a finely pressed black suit fit with a baby blue shirt and a lilac tie that made him look like he’d walked right out of one of those rom-coms where the male lead is a prolific billionaire.

He was gorgeous.

“I came here to wallow in my own self-pity but it looks like you beat me to it,” You can’t help but chuckle softly at your own explanation. “Do you mind?”

You gesture towards the swing besides his with a book held in your left hand and a soft expression, as if to silently tell the beautiful stranger in front of you that if he wanted to be alone that you would feel any offense.

“Uh- yeah- no- no, go ahead,” You don’t even try to suppress the smile that creeps its way onto your face at the way he stumbles over his words, and you take a seat on the swing next to him with a chuckled “Thank you,” as you turn your head down to the open book in your lap, just illuminated enough under the lamp post so you can read the words on the pages.

Any distinguishing factors, including the book’s title were unceremoniously hidden from view as it blends into the night’s shadows, effectively halting curious effort of the boy next to you to figure out what it is.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his lingering gaze, and you follow it down to the novel in your hands before you show off the cover in his direction.

Paramenides by Plato.

“Have you read it?”

Your voice stops his psychoanalysis of your literature choices as he turns his eyes back up towards your face again.

“I have actually,” He nods softly at you with a pursed, slightly awkward smile, the contours of his cheek bones perfectly captured in the dim lighting. “I read it when I was doing my Philosophy degree.”

“No kidding-“ You let out a small laugh in surprise at the fact the cute stranger encroaching on your usual pity party venue just so happened to have a degree in Philosophy.

He also just so happened to have an absolutely beautiful laugh, the sound like a song in your ear as he joins you in laughing about the absurdity of the odds that the two of you both had a keen interest in philosophy.

“So, what brings you out here so late then?” You seem to lose interest in your book as the two of you make eye contact, shutting it in your lap as you turn your shoulders towards him. “No, wait, let me guess, shitty date?”

The boy lets out a breath that could almost constitute as laugh, averting his eyes from you and leaning towards slightly to awkwardly run his hands over his legs. “Something like that-”

You give him a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Don’t let it ruin your perception of romance, it’ll work out in the end,”

The boy’s eyes turn up towards you once more as you speak, and your smile becomes a little more awkward as he meets your gaze once more.

“You don’t look like you believe yourself…” His words leaving you blinking softly in his direction, facial expression full of confusion.“Your relationship isn’t going very well at the moment is it?”

Your expression morphs at his question and he immediately backtracks, waving his hands around as he tries to pull back the conversation.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t- I’m-” He takes a sharp breath in through his nose before attempting to actually speak a full sentence to you. “I’m a uh profi- A behavioural analyst- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i’m so sorry-“

“No it’s alright,” It was your turn to awkwardly drag your hands down your legs now, fingers curling over the edge of your book as you reach it and fiddle with the metal plating on one of the corners of the cover. “You’re not wrong,”

You can practically see the curiosity in his eyes as you confirm his suspicion. “Is that why you’re here?”

You can hear the cautiousness in his tone as he presses you further, clearly scared about crossing a line, “You said you came here to ‘wallow in self-pity’ earlier…”

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of your earlier statement as he repeats it back to you. “We uh, had an argument,”

You play it off as something insignificant, but you can tell that he doesn’t believe you and soon end up finding yourself spilling the entirety of your relationship problems to someone you’ve never met before.

“He has this best friend that he’s like weirdly close to and he stood me up on a movie night we were supposed to have so they could go out together instead-“ You sigh exasperatedly as you replay the nights events in your head.

“I called him to ask where he was and it spun into him yelling at me for ‘not respecting’ his friendship because they’ve been friends longer than we’ve been dating, it’s stupid really-“

“That’s not stupid at all,” He shakes his head determinedly at you. “He’s not respecting your relationship, i’m sorry you have to deal with that,”

You can’t help but feel minorly guilty for making a stranger feel bad for you, but you give him a soft “Thank you,” nonetheless.

You unfortunately don’t have time to continue your conversation as your phone buzzes with a message from your boyfriend telling you that you have to go home to your shared apartment.

With a sigh you pick yourself up from the swing, clutching your book underneath your arm.

“Well, it was nice to meet you…” You trail of the sentence with indication for him to fill in the space with his name.

“Dr. Reid- Spencer Reid- Spencer- I’m Spencer....”

You can see the flush spread across his cheeks and over his nose as he stumbles out his name.

“I enjoyed speaking with you Spencer,” You give the cute stranger, Spencer, a soft smile as you prepare yourself to leave, hands stuffed in your pockets.

“I enjoyed speaking to you too,” He returns your smile with one of his own, albeit one that’s slightly more awkward, and you can see his mouth fall open again as if he was going to say something else, but his words fall short.

“Good night,” Your stopped in your walk home almost before it even starts as Spencer calls after you with a new found confidence.

“Wait-“ His voice echoes through the empty play park, and you turn around to meet his glistening gaze once more. “Am I- going to see you again?”

His half-awkward demeanour was oddly charming, eliciting a soft smile that spreads to your eyes.

“I like to read here sometimes, bring a book with you and maybe we can read together…”

Spencer smiles at your indirect invitation to see him here again in the future, and he nods softly at your answer, standing from the swing he was sat on to mirror you. “I’d like that,”

“Good,” You give him another soft smile that joined by a slight tilt of your head. “I’ll see you soon then..”

“Yeah…” Spencer stays stood as he watches you leave to go home, mind running at a million miles a minute as his brain fully comprehends what just happened.

You’re already out of sight before he realises that he forgot to ask for your name.

[andersonfilms]

author!abby who writes a fictional novel based on you, but the two of you hadn’t spoken in years, she really didn’t think she’d be on your radar at all. yeah, sure — you did like to read. but you hadn’t even known about it when you were together. how would you even find out about it? abby sure wouldn’t be the one to tell you.

author!abby starts to worry about you finding out about her book when it starts selling well. she was happy, over the moon actually, but the fear loomed over like a dark rainy cloud, following her every where she went. confessions of love and words never spoken all laid out prettily in ink, and god did abby feel exposed.

author!abby who cries when she gets the news her novel is a new york times best seller. she’s stupidly happy about it and she’s feels proud of herself. almost as if you’re here right along with her, but you’re not. just this idea of you, placed inside this world she created — one where there is a happy ending for the two of you but then the doom of reality sets in.

author!abby nearly passes out when she runs into you. friday night, the moonlight hitting you so well, it truly wasn’t even fair. some other girl on your arm, and she only pulled you closer with abby’s presence.

author!abby still thinks you’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, and it pains her still to see you with someone else who isn’t her. of course she had been with other people, just like you, but there wasn’t anyone who fit perfect like you did.

author!abby wonders what she would say to you if your companion wasn’t trying to size her up. she was a femme which already made abby feel insecure. abby was your only history of dating a masc, which had always been a sore spot. she’s beautiful and the way she holds you, god it makes abby want to hurl.

author!abby thinks it’s silly she can’t just move on. you’re just a girl. granted, a girl who inspired her to write an entire novel. even then, she should be able to get over you. you’re stupidly perfect lips, those stunning eyes that maker her fall to her knees every time. it isn’t fair how much she still loves you after all this time. fuck.

author!abby also finds herself dreaming of you when she's lonely. it's harmless mostly, until she wakes up and you're not on the other side of the bed. then it hits her cruelly, you're not here and you've never even set foot in the apartment she moved into when the two of you broke up. she's living her worst nightmare.

author!abby really believes she's sick when you're untangling yourself from the girl you're with and you collide into her arms. you smell of cedar and vanilla and it intoxicates abby as she feels your arms around her waist. she feels light, the heavy weight of her solemn loneliness bites the dust in your presence.

"Missed my sweet, Abs. Fuck, it's really you and all that muscle, huh?" You kiss her cheek sweetly, so quick she's doubts if it even happens.

author!abby tries not to laugh at your date omitting an aggravated grunt at the interaction, but she decides ignoring it and having you in her arms is far more important. if it's only for this short time, so be it. abby knows she's blushing and hopes it believable the cold is to blame.

author!abby tries not to think of it for the next couple weeks. your kindness spreading to her like angel dust on skin, healing a heart abby had practically broken herself. abby wondered how serious it was with you and the other girl. the only thing she did know, was abby had made her jealous. the way she kissed you and grabbed your ass could only be the effect of bright, green envy.

author!abby starts outlining a new story and she knows as well as her publisher why and now she regrets telling him, but your pure presence had her writing again. the timing nothing other than comical. it shouldn't have, but it did.

author!abby is wearing nothing but black sweat pants and a white beater when there is a knock on her door. it's aggressive and harsh, and it surprises her when it's you. how did she even find out where you live? fuck, manny. it had to be.

author!abby takes in your appearance and it's clear you were dressed for a date, more than likely with the girl you were with earlier. evidently, you were dating her and god you were dressed to the nines in front of her. a cocktail gown with pretty black heels. she tries not to take note of your cleavage and your perfect tits, or the way the material was snug around your hips, accentuating them perfectly.

author!abby knows you're angry, and she isn't sure why. it's not like the two of you had talked since your run in. maybe abby had stalked your socials a bit, yeah. obviously. but she wasn't bold enough to actually reach out to you.

author!abby didn't have to think about it much longer when you threw the book at abby's chest forcing her to catch it. with a look of horror in her eyes, she knew you had found out about it and read it. eyes filled with tears, abby had caused you heartbreak once again. even if it was unintentional, she was the source of your pain and she hated herself for it.

author!abby hates the way you're looking at her, tears cascading down your plump cheeks, but your anger was still prevalent. you had every right to be upset and abby tried to think of it from your perspective. if you had refused to tell her you love her, but then wrote it all in a book and didn't tell her about it, there isn't a sliver of doubt she would be upset.

"I guess I should have listened to Manny and told you about the book." Absent mindedly chewing on her bottom lip. Abby avoids looking you in the eye. She can't even stomach your presence. It makes her feels sick, and happy, and awfully optimistic. It's disgusting.

author!abby knew a light-hearted joke wasn't the best choice she could make, but it was the only one she had. there wasn't much else she could do except wait for whatever blow she knew was coming. this was her own mess, there was no one but to blame but herself.

You ignore her comment. It makes you want to punch her and kiss her. "How could you look me in the eye tell me you don't love me and will never love me and then proceed to write an entire romance novel based on our relationship?" You were practically screaming at her, but your volume was reduced as chocked sobs fell from your lips.

author!abby wishes she could give you an answer that would help, but there isn't one. her reasons are selfish and nothing she says help you - not in the way you need. anything she could offer would provide little to no comfort.

"I'm happy now. I have a girlfriend whose good to me and it took me a long time to get there. To be happy without you and your cruel, vile words hanging over me and infecting my day to fucking day life." You regretted saying it the moment your eyes caught blue ones, guilt pouring out from within. “I’ve finally moved on.” "Then be happy. Just forget about what I wrote. It's stupid anyways, okay? Just a dream I got carried away with." It's a lame attempt and not enough effort is made to sway you to walk away from her front door. Abby pushed because it's the only thing she knows how to successfully do.

author!abby wishes you would go away because if you stand in front of her for any longer, she'll be inviting you in and lord knows she doesn't need this to happen. it's the last thing she wants and the absolute one thing she needs.

"It's not stupid, if it's your dream." You said, trying to reassure her. "You cared enough to write about it. I-, uh, please can you just tell me the truth? Please just tell me?" You pleaded wanting to hear what you thought of endlessly. "I wrote this for the girl I fell in love with, for the girl I still love and will always love and she's standing in front of me with the power to crush my heart in her hands if she wants."

[vivalas-vega]

sunshine / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

heyooo !!! the fic I've been teasing for the past few days is finally here ! I don't know that I'm fully happy with it but I've invested a minimum of 25 hours into this and I had to metaphorically put the pen down at some point. I hope you enjoy, as always please please please let me know what you think!

sunshine / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

feel free to buy me a kofi if you like my work!

based on this request! here is your fic @gryffindormarveltwilight :)

word count: 14k (estimated read time: 60 minutes)

warnings: language, drinking, some suggestive humor, brief rooster x reader/allusions to rooster x reader, navy inaccuracies, terrible descriptions of flying a fighter jet pls forgive me

Sitting in your superiors' stuffy office underneath dim fluorescent lighting the only thing you could think of was that your best friend was right. A point that you didn’t want to admit to anyone, let alone her… but that was also a lie, the biggest thought dominating your headspace was her brother. Jacob Seresin. She’d told you a thousand times over to get ahead of it, that you couldn’t keep this secret forever and to just come clean to him and your family but you’d dug your heels in, insisted this was the right way to go about things, and god did you hate eating your words. She was fucking right. 

You were reminded of Thanksgiving two years ago, one of the events in a long list of near-misses where your secret almost came to light.

“Sunshine, your phone keeps ringing, do you want me to get it?” Jake asked from across the couch. You were fully immersed in your novel with your legs stretched out and resting against his, you hadn’t even noticed your phone… or anything else for that matter outside of the world you were holding in your palms.

“Just silence it,” you said as you flipped the page.

“Wait a minute,” he said and the shift in his tone pulled your attention to him. He was staring at your phone screen in shock… or was that confusion? “How the fuck do you know Rooster?” he asked and your blood ran cold.

“What?” you asked and he flipped the screen around to reveal Rooster’s contact photo. You thanked your previous self for cropping yourself out of it because this was going to be hard enough to explain without the addition of you in your khakis. “Oh,” you chuckled, hoping to just brush it off entirely as you sat up. “You know, I kind of forgot he was a pilot, too. I met him a few months ago when I went to San Diego for that convention.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me you happened to meet another naval aviator?”

You shrugged, “I didn’t think you knew him.” You knew he did. “We met in a bar and hit it off, we’ve kept in contact since.” 

“Are you like… a thing?” he asked, disgust evident in his tone. 

You laughed, “no, you know… it is possible to meet someone in a bar and not immediately jump their bones.” you said, trying to deflect this conversation in its entirety. 

“Nope, you’re not flipping this around on me.” Damn it. “I find it awfully suspicious this is the first I’m hearing of Rooster… by accident no less.”

You sighed, “fine, you caught me. I’m secretly a naval aviator too and Rooster was my wingman on a mission in Eastern Europe,” you said, and you didn’t try to sound innocent or sarcastic, just the right amount of indifference for him to not believe you.

He chuckled, “yeah of course you are, and I’m not an aviator, I’m actually a fucking astronaut.”  He added an eye roll for dramatic effect. “At least make your lies believable, sunshine, you know you’d never even make it to basic because I’d have killed you before then.”

You let out a laugh but there was no humor in it, “you’re right… me being in the Navy is definitely far fetched.”

“Top Gun, sir?” you questioned, trying to focus your thoughts on the present and he nodded… not even fully looking at you as he sorted through paperwork on his desk.

“Despite your insistence on keeping your achievements quiet, you’ve caught the attention of a lot of people. Mission is need to know, and apparently I don’t make the cut,” there was a bitter taste on his tongue as he spoke the words. “All I know is the best of the best from every aviation squad are headed west.”

“Yes, sir. When do I leave?” 

“You’re on a plane in six hours. Go home, pack, get your affairs in order. You report for duty at 08:00 tomorrow.”  Six hours. 

“They think I’m a research assistant to a fucking archeologist, Sadie! I mean, how stupid could I possibly be!” Your voice was shrill as you shouted in the general vicinity of your phone perched atop your dresser as you threw things into a duffel bag. You weren’t even concerned with what you were packing, you were more concerned with the fact that the single thread holding your intricate web of lies together was unraveling right in front of you. “You were right the other day when you said he already knows, he just… doesn’t know it’s me. I’ve heard of the infamous Hangman, there’s no way he hasn’t heard of Viper.”

“Just take a deep breath, I mean… I won’t say I told you so, even though I totally told you so.” Good thing she won’t gloat. “What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll be shocked, he might yell at you, he might rat you out to our parents but, maybe that’s for the best.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that everyone finds out I’ve been lying to them about what I do for a living for eight years?” you nearly shrieked as you rooted through your drawers for your one good swimsuit.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to stop taking online archeology courses on the off chance people ask you for specifics? Which… no one ever has because you picked a boring fake job to have, or wouldn’t it be nice to actually be able to tell your parents about your job, your achievements? Did I tell you that Jake actually mentioned Viper to me? Said something about some elusive hotshot pilot very few people have ever actually seen but their exploits have been heard everywhere.”

“Sadie, I called you because you’re supposed to be helping,” you groaned.

“Am I not?” she asked, genuinely sounding innocent and you just glared at the phone… and though she couldn’t see it, she definitely felt it all the way back home in Texas. “You know, you never actually told me how you got Viper as a call sign-”

 “You know what, I have to go.” you said abruptly, cutting her off.

“What are you-” you didn’t bother listening to the rest of the sentence as you hung up and quickly dialed a number you hadn’t in months.

“Hey sunshine,” Jake’s voice rang throughout your room and normally the pet name bestowed on you from a very young age, meant to be ironic considering you’ve never had a sunny disposition, would have been comforting but now it just made you feel sick. “What are you up to?”

“Hey you,” you breathed out. “I just got off the phone with Sadie and I figured I’d give my favorite Seresin a call,” you joked and his laughter on the other end did nothing to ease your nausea. 

“I’ll be sure to tell her you said so. Where are you calling from this time?” he asked and you thought there might be a winch in your chest, each sound from his end of the phone cranking it tighter and tighter.

“Uh, I’m actually stateside for a bit… lab work,” you lied. “What about you, jetsetter? Where’s the Navy got you now?” You were fishing.

“Also stateside, at least for now. Your timing is actually impeccable, I’m packing for a last-minute detachment and you were always better at that than me.” He was referencing all the times you’d wander up into his room just minutes before leaving for one of your shared family vacations, finding him standing in front of his closet with a blank look on his face and an empty suitcase on the bed, leaving you to do it all for him.

You chuckled nervously, “after all this time you still can’t pack a bag without my input?”

“Well, you’ve never forced me to figure it out for myself and the times I’ve had to go without I ended up with all the wrong things.”

“I’m pretty sure this is weaponized incompetence. Where are you headed?” You already knew the answer, but there was a small flicker of hope burning within you. 

“San Diego, all I know is I’ve been recalled to Top Gun.” he answered and you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“Well,” you started, clearing your throat, “definitely some shorts and t-shirts, maybe a few of those ridiculously tight short-sleeve button-ups you always insist on buying… but none of the bright colored ones, they’re awful.” you said and he laughed. “Throw in those green swim trunks if you plan on heckling any innocent women simply trying to enjoy some sun and surf.”

“Heckling innocent women, how do you know I’m not the one being heckled?”

You laughed, “because I know you, you’ve been a heartbreaker since age ten.”

“I prefer the term rolling stone,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I’m sure you do Mr. Rock n Roll but that is not the perception. Your mother worries.”

“Did she call you again?” he asked, voice going up an octave.

“Oh yes, she asked me if we crossed paths in Bosnia… because, of course we would have while I was in Bahrain, said I needed to talk some sense into you.”

“When were you in Bahrain?” he asked and you internally groaned. You’d said too much. But then again, as you looked at the clock it didn’t really matter how much you said. You could say hey Jake, by the way… I’ve been in the Navy all this time, I’ll see you soon! and it wouldn’t make a damn difference.

“Uh, you know… just a few months ago.”

“Huh, I almost went there a few months ago,” he said and you could hear the contemplation in his tone.

“Small world,” you said breathlessly. “Shoot, urgent text from the lab… I’ve gotta head in, call me when you get settled in San Diego?”

“I will, when this deployment is over I was actually going to try and get some leave… come visit you if you’re still stateside, if that’s alright?”

“Of course it is, I’ll talk to you later.” You fell backwards onto your bed with a huff as you disconnected the call, “son of a bitch.”

The red neon sign above the Hard Deck used to be a comforting image, a port in the storm, light illuminating a pathway towards a night of blowing off steam but right now it felt more like the flicker was mocking you, laughing as you prepared to walk through those doors and undo years of lying and manipulating those closest to you. You knew he’d be there. You were. There was nowhere else for aviators to go when arriving in town. Well… nowhere else aviators would go.

“Oh dear god,” you mumbled to yourself, keeping your head low as you waited for your beer. You saw Phoenix strutting across the bar with Fanboy and Payback in tow and the voice that rang out from the pool table made your blood run cold. Of course he was already here.

“What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix,” he said, fixing her with that famous smirk as he stood upright. “And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out, the invite went to anyone.”

“Fellas, this here’s Bagman,” she introduced as you carefully approached, mindful of where you were positioning yourself as you started to slide back into your work persona.

“Hangman,” he corrected.

“Whatever.” she dismissed. “You’re looking at the one of only two naval aviators on active duty with confirmed air-to-air kills.”

“Stop,” he said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle and the faux-display of modesty. Always a showboater.

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean war.” she smirked, you’d been deployed with her a few times and you always found her ability to outpace the men refreshing and oh-so-needed in the Navy. 

“Cold war,” Coyote corrected.

“Different wars, same century.” Payback said.

“Not this one,” Fanboy added.

“Who are your friends?” Coyote asked, gesturing to the two of them as they introduced themselves. “And I’m assuming this other aviator with a confirmed air-to-air kill will be gracing us with his presence tonight?”

“Her presence,” Phoenix said, narrowing her eyes as she corrected his assumption. “Call sign’s Viper, if you two made the cut then she definitely did.” 

“Ah, Viper.” Jake chimed in and you felt your ears burn as you watched him from your spot behind a beam. The way your name fell from his lips in such a condescending way made your eyes narrow. “You know, I’ve heard an awful lot about this Viper but… I’ve never laid eyes on her. Pretty sure she’s just a myth, what do you think, Coyote?” he asked and his friend nodded his head.

“You just can’t stand that the person holding you in a draw is a woman.” Phoenix quipped and you couldn’t help but smile.

“No one’s holding me in anything, darlin’, but I can’t say I’m not excited to finally meet this elusive pilot… set the record straight on who’s number one.”

“Oh Jakey,” you tutted, finally emerging from your spot behind the beam as you approached the table and you ignored the way he was physically caught off guard, quickly standing from his perch on the pool table. “I wouldn’t hold your breath because it sure as shit ain’t you.” You looked him up and down once for good measure. “Bagman, and Hyena, was it? Names Viper, pleasure to meet you.” You held your hand out for Coyote with a smirk rivaling Jake’s. For all the fear you had about your secret coming to light you knew you had to come in strong, if you showed up with your tail between your legs like your old teenage self, scared of Hangman’s wrath you’d never get out from under it during training.

“So, you’re not a myth,” Coyote responded, shaking your hand but you weren’t looking at him… you were looking at Jake who’s eyes seemed like they were about to bug out of his head as they scanned you, clad in a matching khaki uniform. 

“No, but she is a legend,” Fanboy piped in and you chuckled at the reinforcements.

“Hey V, knew you’d turn up sooner or later,” she said as she pulled you in for a quick hug and you reached out to squeeze both Payback and Fanboy’s shoulders in greeting. “And who’s this?” Phoenix asked, not picking up on the tension rising between you and Jake as her eyes glanced at the man sitting in standard-issue glasses to your left.

“Who’s who?” Coyote asked, not noticing he was there at all. She looked directly at him as he brushed peanuts off his lap. “When did you get in?”

“Oh, I- I’ve been here the whole time.” he answered with a cute smile on his face and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his earnestness. 

“Man’s a stealth pilot,” Jake finally chipped in, seemingly recovering from your shocking arrival but his eyes still held a lot of questions you knew you’d be hearing later. 

“Literally.” Coyote added.

“Weapons Systems Officer, actually,” the man corrected.

“With no sense of humor,” Jake sighed and you narrowed your eyes at him as he passed the pool cue to Phoenix before he made his way to the bar and you took the opportunity to slip away and follow him.

“Penny, my dear,” he started, leaning against the bartop. “I’ll have four more on the old timer.” he said, eyes darting to Maverick and you knew he’d regret saying that later. Everyone else might have been alarmingly slow at connecting the dots but you knew his presence here wasn’t a coincidence. As far as you knew he was supposed to be in Arizona acting as a test pilot.

“Unprepared for an ambush?” you asked and he sighed, you watched as his bicep flexed when he gripped the edge of the bar.

“You could say that,” he replied dryly.

“Doesn’t sound like the Hangman I’ve heard of… always so prepared for everything,” you shot back and he turned to look at you, expression steeled.

“Well, deception sounds exactly like the Viper I’ve heard of.” You couldn’t be surprised, verbal volleyball with him was always your forte and this time he had genuine cause to be upset. “What the hell are you doing here?” There it was.

“Recalled, same as you.” you answered, as if it was really that simple.

“In the Navy,” he clarified. “You didn’t think to mention this when we were on the phone four hours ago? Or better yet, when you joined?”

“Thought this would be better face to face.”

“What, were you calling just to get information from me?”

“I like being prepared, wanted to know what I was walking into.” you replied, keeping your features calm as you looked up at him.

“And you couldn’t have prepared me for seeing my little sister’s best friend in front of all my colleagues?”

“Your colleagues? Thought I was a little more than that,” you responded, focusing your attention forward and subtly nodding to Maverick who was sitting across the bar in lieu of a proper greeting. “You’re a professional, Hangman, I think you handled it well.”

“Like how well you’ve handled lying to your entire family? How was that dig in Bahrain, by the way?”

“Needed to come up with something to account for all the traveling and lack of contact,” you answered, cutting through to the question beneath the question.

“And where do they think you’re off to now?” he asked as Penny set the beers in front of you. “You know, just in case I need to cover your ass.”

“Croatia. Called them before I called you and Sadie.”

“Sadie knows?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why the hell did you keep this from everyone?”

“Are you forgetting the chaos that ensued when you told everyone your plans after high school?” you asked. “Besides, I did tell you in no uncertain terms, you just turned it into a joke.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Thanksgiving a few years ago? When Rooster called?” you prompted and you watched his face fall. 

“Oh my god,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t believe me which is why I said it to get you off my back… and what you said about killing me before I even made it to basic just proves my reasoning was right to not tell anyone.”

“Wait, so Rooster really was your wingman on a mission?”

“Several.” you answered.

“I don’t understand, I first heard of Viper six years ago. How have we never crossed paths?”

“I asked to keep my accomplishments on the downlow, they thought it was modesty but really I didn’t want you finding out through a Navy newsletter. Truthfully, I don’t know how we haven’t been on detachments sooner, that was just dumb luck.”

“Dumb luck,” he scoffed, looking you over once more. “God dammit. I am happy to see you,” he finally conceded and you let out a laugh.

“Really? I’m not convinced,” you replied as he pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Meant what I said too,” he started, picking up two of the beers and nodding for you to grab the others. “I do intend on winning this tie between us.”

You laughed again, “good luck with that, bud.” you shot back as you walked back to the pool table. You were aware of the questioning eyes but you had no intention of filling anyone in at the moment.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe,”Jake said, swiping Bob’s pool cue as you gave Rooster a one-arm hug.

“Hangman, you look… good,” Rooster responded, apprehension clear in his voice and you shared a look with Phoenix.

“Well, I am good, Rooster.” he replied, lining up and taking his shot. “I’m very good, in fact, I am too good to be true.” You rolled your eyes as you watched Phoenix give Rooster an exasperated look.

“So,” Payback interjected, “anyone know what this special detachment is all about?”

“No, a mission’s a mission, that don’t confront me.” You watched in amusement as he made his way around the pool table, oozing arrogance. You’d heard the stories of the cocky pilot but seeing it before you, in stark contradiction to the Jake you grew up with, was jarring to say the least. “What I want to know: who’s gonna be team leader? And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” Rooster replied and you watched Jake continue his path with an overwhelming urge to smack the smirk off of his face. If you wanted to, you knew you were the only person here who could get away with it.

“Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel.” Jake shot back, “But that’s just you ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch waiting for just the right moment… that’s never gonna come.” He finished, stepping closer. “I love this song,” he added before walking away.

“Well, he hasn’t changed.” Phoenix sighed.

“Nope, sure hasn’t.” Rooster agreed and you chuckled.

“If only you knew how untrue that was,” you said, eyebrows raised as you looked after him, a man almost completely unrecognizable to you now. You were almost impressed that he was able to suppress this new side of himself when he went back home just as easily as you did.

“Thought you were in Bahrain,” Rooster commented and you spared him a quick glance.

“Thought you were in Japan,” you replied simply.

“Looks like your intel is outdated,” he said and you finally looked over to him with a smirk.

“Same goes for you.” You nudged his shoulder with yours, “good to see you, Roo.”

“Does anyone here have a normal relationship with one another?” Coyote asked, watching as Rooster disappeared and as you went to steal some of Bob’s peanuts. 

“This is like a dysfunctional summer camp reunion, Coyote. When have we all been in the same room at the same time?” Phoenix answered.

“Any thoughts as to how this is going to play out?” Jake asked, sidling up beside you as you ordered another beer and you didn’t even look in his direction as you watched Penny mix a drink for someone.

“Thought it was just a mission… none of the details confront you,” you responded and he didn’t miss the air of mockery in your tone.

“I meant between us,” he clarified and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Thought we were just colleagues.”

He shot you an unamused look, “are you really going to be like that?” he asked and you shrugged.

“Matching your energy, Hangman. Have to say, I was hoping the rumors were false.”

“Oh yeah? And what rumors are those, Viper?”

“The rumors that you’re an arrogant asshole. Imagine my surprise to find the Jake I know nowhere in sight.”

“Well, imagine my surprise to find out the girl who used to steal my sweatshirts and whine if I didn’t cut the crust off her sandwiches in the Navy with a reputation of being a calculated bitch.”

“I’m a woman in the Navy, what’s your excuse?” you fired back and he nodded his head appreciatively as if to say touche.

He sighed, “I just mean… we have history, how do you want to go about that?”

“Pretty sure everyone here has some form of history with each other, I don’t see why we need to go about it any particular way.” you shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a long detachment?”

“Probably because you’re right.”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t be a team player. You’re taking this whole Hangman thing too far,” you snapped from your side of the booth. “I’m sick of doing push ups because of you.”

“Ever considered it’s just because you’re the one that’s failing?” Jake asked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just because you’re a shitty wingman, always have been.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?”

You laughed dryly, “Christmas? Two years ago? You had one job, be a decent wingman. You can’t do it on the ground and you certainly can’t do it in the air.”

“Hold up. Christmas two years ago? What do you mean?” Phoenix asked, having

overheard your latest round of ripping into Jake as she was walking by and you let out a sigh.

“Bagman and I grew up together,” you finally came clean and you gave her an exasperated look as she did a terrible job at masking her shock.

“Wait, like grew up grew up together? As kids?”

“My best friend is his sister,” you explained as briefly as you could. “Well, that makes a hell of a lot more sense than my theory,” she said and you furrowed

your brows.

“What was your theory?” you and Jake asked at the same time.

“I thought you two had slept together on a deployment,” she shrugged and you blinked in surprise. You looked at Jake and waited for him to respond because you were at a loss for words at the implication.

“Your quickness to assume I’ve slept with every woman I’ve come into contact with is frankly insulting,” he said and you bit back a laugh.

“But not entirely untrue,” you muttered.

“Please tell me you have embarrassing stories about him,” Phoenix pleaded and you let out a full laugh now.

“Oh, I definitely do.”

“That will remain in the vault because unless you’re forgetting, I have stories too.” Jake chimed in and you rolled your eyes.

“Hold on, I’ve been deployed with both of you, and mentioned both of you to each other, how is this the first I’m hearing of this?” she asked and you noticed the way almost everyone was not subtly listening in.

“Our families didn’t have the warmest reaction to him joining the Navy, let alone to be a fighter pilot… so I just kept it to myself when I did. Jake didn’t know until last week,” you answered.

She shot him a weird look, “I always forget you have a real name… makes you too human,” she muttered before slipping away and you chuckled. 

“Cat’s outta the bag now,” he said, eyeing you over the rim of his glass as he took a drink and you didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated as Rooster came into his field of vision.

“Buy you a refill?” he asked you and you nodded, allowing him to pull you up and lead you to the bar. “So, you and Hangman have history?” You realized he must have only caught a piece of your previous conversation.

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, “Seems everyone has history with him, including you.” you said as the two of you sat down on the bar stools.

“Nothing beyond the obvious.”

“And what’s the obvious?” you asked and he smirked, sliding a fresh beer towards you.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said and you raised your eyebrows at him before he chuckled. “Thought it’d be good to catch up… haven’t heard from you since our last mission.”

“And whose fault is that?” you shot back, with Rooster it was always about what was unsaid. On the surface you weren’t even sure this would be considered a conversation, too much back and forth with not enough shared in each passing remark.

“You know how it is,” he shrugged and you nodded.

“How was Japan?”

“How was Bahrain?” You stared him down before cracking, a smile spreading across your face as you laughed.

“You know I can’t tell you.”

“You know I can keep a secret. Besides, what are friends for?”

“Oh, are we friends now?” you countered, amusement clear in your tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we weren’t.” he shot back.

“Our last communication was you sending me a photo of bird shit on your canopy with a series of emojis that I’m honestly still unsure the meaning of.”

“That’s peak friendship,” he laughed. “What is the story with you and Hangman and why was I not allowed to tell him we knew each other?”

“He’s my best friend’s brother,” you said and realization passed over his features. “He’s a little… protective, and I knew he wouldn’t respond well to me being in the Navy.”

“Ah, well that explains why he looks like he wants to kill me everytime I get close to you,” he said and you looked over your shoulder to find him glaring in your general direction and you let out a laugh.

“That’s just his face when it comes to you.”

“No, pretty sure it’s more than that,” he replied and you raised an eyebrow at him as if to say elaborate. He reached down to grab your stool and yanked you closer, forcing your legs to slide in between his and smirked as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear while you just looked at him with wide eyes. “I give it five minutes, tops.”

“Five minutes for what?” you asked, coming out a little more breathless than you were hoping for.

“The way he looks at you is far more intense than just being his sister’s best friend… I’m just testing my theory,” he said, voice low with how close the two of you were.

“And what do you think these test results will yield?”

“I think he’s going to stew over there for a moment,” he said leaning closer as he looked over your shoulder and nodded slightly, “just like he’s doing right now… and then when I make any sort of indication of taking this further he’s going to come pull you right out of this chair and drag you off.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed, deciding to lean into it if only for the fact that your life was so hectic you had no time for attention like this… even if it was for show, and you let your fingers absentmindedly drag along his forearm. “And how are you going to indicate taking this further?” you asked, your eyes almost daring him.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as his fingers trailed along your thigh.

You gave a half-hearted shrug, “contrary to popular belief, I’m not immune to a little flirting… real or not.”

He frowned slightly, “I know you’re not immune or are you purposefully forgetting our first mission?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” you replied and now it was your turn to smirk. You saw something in his expression shift, like he was accepting the challenge you’d just given him.

“Do I need to remind you?” he asked, inching closer and your breath hitched when his hand rested on your neck. “Because I remember it quite vividly,” he whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver that raced up your spine. 

“I think it’s coming back to me now,” you said as he pulled back to look at you and he chuckled.

“Incoming.” you furrowed your brows at him as he leaned away but before you could ask him what he meant you felt a strong hand wrap around your arm and yank you upwards and suddenly you found yourself being pulled across the bar and one glance back to Rooster only revealed a smug look that said I told you so. And he did.

“Get off of me!” you yelled as you pushed Jake’s hand off you, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared up at him and squinted your eyes to shield from the sun setting over the beach… now just a handful of yards away in your new location. “What the hell is your problem?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You just gestured for him to explain. “Rooster? Really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please tell me you’re not that dense,” he said and you could see the disappointment in his features but what you couldn’t figure out was why. You just shook your head and threw your arms out in exasperation and he sighed. “Do you really think flirting with Rooster is a good idea?”

You let out an indignant laugh, “you think that was flirting?”

“Okay, I know you’re not that dense.” 

“I know this has been difficult for you to wrap your head around but I have friendships on this squad outside of you that have been in existence for years. Whatever you think you saw was me catching up with an old friend.”

He scoffed, “and he just had to have his hands on your neck and thigh while doing so?”

“And so what if he did? I’m failing to see where this is any of your business and why it gave you the right to physically remove me from my conversation.”

“Figured I’d save you from making a mistake because it’s never a good idea to get involved with someone on your squad… especially on a mission as hard as this one.”

“You would know wouldn’t you?” you countered. “Speaking from personal experience?”

“Don’t do that, you always find a way to turn it around on me.”

“Maybe because you’re always the one in the wrong!” you shouted. “I know that me being here is weird for you, and I know it’s been an adjustment having me in the air with you but that does not give you the right to act like you have for the past eight years. I am not your kid sister’s best friend anymore, I am not a teenager that needs you to bail her out when guys get handsy.”

“Well, you’re definitely acting like a teenager who needs me to bail her out before she makes a mistake that could follow her around for the rest of her career.”

“You are the one acting like a teenager right now! In case you haven’t noticed because you’ve been too busy strutting around like you’re god’s fucking gift to us all, I’ve built an incredible career for myself, and I’m pretty damn good at what I do… I have to be, right? Because I landed myself here with you. Or do you think that was just a fluke? The only reason this is new to you is because I diminished myself to hide from you because I knew you couldn’t deal with the fact that I can handle my own shit now.”

“You think lying to everyone is handling your shit? You hid because you were too much of a coward to own up to it.”

You let out a bitter laugh, “I lied to everyone because they worry. Your mother cries every day you’re on deployment. Your sister calls me twice as much. Your dad goes to church twice a week. My parents check their phones every hour waiting to see if yours sent them any kind of update. It’s easier for everyone if they believe my traveling and being out of service range is because I’m safe and sound, digging up old relics. I lied because I knew you would act like this and I lied because giving our families some peace of mind was worth more to me than getting credit for everything I’ve accomplished.”

He was silent for a moment as he processed what you’d said, and he took a step back as silence permeated the outdoor patio. “I don’t think it was just a fluke,” he finally said and you let out a sharp exhale.

“Well, obviously it wasn’t, I’m a much better pilot than you.” you joked and he gave you a deadpan look. “Every time you snap at me in the air, or dismiss me in the training room, or conveniently occupy yourself elsewhere when my previous missions become the center of focus, you're only reinforcing the reasons I kept this from you. I didn’t want to. Of course I wanted to tell you of all people, I just… didn’t want to feel like I used to when we were growing up. Like the little kid you got stuck with.”

He sighed, “well, now I feel like a jackass.”

You shrugged, “well… you kind of are a jackass.”

“You’re not the little kid I got stuck with, sunshine. I just-”

“I get it,” you cut him off. You wanted this conversation to end before it got too deep, and you could tell by the look in his eyes you were about to jump headfirst into a conversation neither of you were ready for. “Come on, buy me a beer to make up for what a jackass you were.” 

You were on your third run through of the mission today, probably the dozenth this week and each time something went wrong, or you weren’t fast enough, or nothing went wrong and you were fast enough but you missed the target. Between this and Maverick’s constant reminders of just how impossible this mission was, you were finding it hard to push through the noise and focus on your objectives… something that had never been an issue for you in the past. You’d made a career off of keeping your head down and doing what was expected of you no matter how difficult it was but this? Each time you stepped into the cockpit you couldn’t help but think you were training for your death.

“Talk to me, Bob,” Phoenix said as you flew above the dry terrain. You could feel the clock running out, both on this run through and your mission training in general.

“We are twelve seconds late on target, we gotta move! We gotta move,” Bob replied.

“Copy, try to stay with me,” you said as you increased your speed.

“Wait, who’s that?” Bob asked and you cocked your head slightly, waiting for further information.

“Blue team, you’ve been spotted.” Maverick’s voice rang throughout your headset and you winced.

“Shit, it’s Mav.” 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Phoenix asked,

“I’m a bandit on course to intercept, blue team what are you gonna do?”

“He’s twenty miles left, ten o’clock. Seven hundred knots closure.” Bob supplied.

“Your call, what do you want to do?” you asked Phoenix, looking over your shoulder in the direction of her aircraft.

“Continue, we’re close. Stay on target.”

“He’s swinging around to the north,” Bob said as you began to brace yourself.

“Stand by for pop-up.” 

“Be ready on that laser, Bob,” Phoenix ordered.

“Copy, I’m on it.”

“Blue team, bandit is still closing,” Maverick reminded you and you felt tension settling in your muscles.

“Popping now,” you communicated as you sharply moved to a steep incline. You gasped for air as the weight crushed you backwards into your seat. “Talk to me, Bob. Where’s Mav?”

“He’s five miles out, he’s coming fast.”

“Target’s in sight,” Phoenix said.

“Where’s my laser, Bob?” you asked, already feeling the panic creep in.

“Deadeye! Deadeye! It’s no good. Sorry, I can’t get a lock.”

“We’re out of time, I’m dropping blind,” you said with a slight shake of your head as your thumb hovered over the button as you tried to drop it at the exact right moment. “Fuck, I missed,” you sighed as you began your steep climb out.

“That’s tone,” Maverick said and you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“Maverick’s got missile lock on us.” Bob groaned.

“Shit, we’re dead,” Phoenix cursed.

“Blue team, that’s a fail.” You let out a sharp exhale as you ripped your mask off in frustration. No matter how hard or how many times you tried you were always so close without ever actually making it. “That’s enough for today.” Maverick said as you leveled out and you navigated to flank him. “Bird strike! Bird strike!” he shouted as you tried to avoid the onslaught of birds but it was no use, you felt your jet become unsteady as one flew directly into your engine.

“Shit, left engine’s on fire. Climbing,” you said as you yanked up on the yoke. “Throttling back, shutting off fuel to left engine. Extinguishing fire,” you narrated as you ran through your mental checklist of everything you needed to do. “Fuck, it’s still spinning. Trying to restart,” you tried to keep your voice and your nerves steady but it was no use, the erratic beeping filling the cockpit was threatening to pull you apart.

“Viper, it’s on fire! Don’t start-” Maverick started but you cut him off.

“Throttling up.” You watched as everything flashed at you and you tried to regain control as you quickly lost altitude. “Extinguishing right engine.” Everything was in failure and you were running out of options.

“Viper, punch out.” Maverick ordered as your jet hurtled towards the hillside in a spiral. “You can’t save it. Eject, eject!”

“Fuck, ejecting! Ejecting!” you shouted as you pulled the handles between your feet and the last thing you remembered was watching your plane burn in.

You awoke in a panic, gripping the sheets as a distant beeping accelerated your heart rate and as if on autopilot your hands grabbed for the controls but there was nothing but fabric. “Hey, hey you’re okay,” you heard and you let out a sharp exhale as you saw Jake sitting beside you, leaned forward in his chair with concern written all over his face.

“I don’t- what the hell happened?”

“Bird strike. Thank god you punched out in time but you lost consciousness on the way down. Doc said you’re fine, they’re coming to discharge you soon,” he explained and you nodded as you began to calm down.

“Jesus,” you whispered before another wave of panic rolled over you. “Mav? Phoenix and Bob?” you asked, realizing you’d been so wrapped up in your own cockpit you didn’t even know if the voices coming through your headset were for you or if they were struggling with their own aircrafts.

“They’re good, Mav stopped by earlier to check in and everyone has been blowing up the group chat asking for updates,” he chuckled as he rested a hand on your leg.

“Just another thing to tack onto the long list of failures with this mission,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

He frowned at you, “hey, no one faults you for this. You can’t control bird strikes,” he reassured. “Everyone is just glad you got out.” His thumb was rubbing reassuring circles against your thigh and you took a deep breath as you tried to shake off the way he was looking at you. It was concern and… something else you couldn’t place.

“Jake, I don’t… I don’t think everyone’s going to come back from this,” you whispered, it was a universal truth, everyone had thought it at one point or another, Maverick had basically said it without being explicit, and you knew damn well Cyclone didn’t care about casualties so long as the mission was completed. “We can’t even get through dropping the bombs, we haven’t even accounted for SAM’s or bandits.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s us.” he said, voice firm and you knew it was a defense mechanism. He wouldn’t come out and say it but he shared the same fears you did. “Come on, let’s get you up, everyone wants to see that you’re alive and well for themselves,” he diverted but you knew better. He just didn’t want to get into it with you because if he did he wasn’t sure he’d be able to flip the switch back. He had to stay focused and so did you.

The drive to the Hard Deck was silent, much like a lot of your time had been with Jake recently and it made you want to rip your hair out. You couldn’t deal with the hot and cold, one minute you felt like nothing had changed when he brought you your coffee exactly how you liked it, or when you were doubled over in laughter by the dart board and the next he was distant, blowing you off entirely and pretending you were no more than a colleague. You knew things wouldn’t be like how they were back home, this was work and the lives of you and your team were on the line. There were more important things to focus on but when you watched him let loose with Coyote after-hours or humor Fanboy while he talked about some nerdy tv show you couldn’t help but think it felt like a knife to the back. 

“Easy, I know you’re sore even though you’re pretending you’re not,” he said softly as he helped you climb out of the car and you just gave him a deadpan look.

“I’m not pretending,” you protested and he smirked.

“Sure you’re not,” he agreed, even though he really didn’t.

“There she is!” Fanboy cheered as you walked in and you gave a bashful smile, hiding your face behind your hands to shield yourself from the commotion. “How are you feeling? What’d the doctor say?” he asked as everyone looked at you intently.

Bob elbowed him, “you are under no obligation to share your private medical information,” he said, clear disapproval in his tone at everyone’s nosiness.

You chuckled, “it’s okay, Bob. No concussion, nothing broken, just some light bruising in my ribs. Still cleared to fly so it looks like the competition hasn’t been knocked out yet,” you teased.

“Thank god, I couldn’t stand it if you abandoned me,” Phoenix said with a warm smile as she wrapped an arm around your waist carefully. “Are you allowed to drink?”

“It’s actually been encouraged,” you joked and she nodded before disappearing.

“Glad you’re okay,” Rooster said, giving you a sheepish smile. “Scared the shit out of all of us.”

“I like to keep you on your toes,” you replied. “Since I almost died today and all…” you started and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, so you’re milking this?”

“Mmhm,” you smirked. “Since I almost died today, think you could go play a little something?” you asked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“For you, I think that can be arranged.” you watched with a small smile as he did his usual routine of yanking the cord of the jukebox out of the wall before sauntering over to the piano. You loved watching the bar crowd around him, watching your new and old friends sing along and bust out terrible dance moves. It made it a little easier to forget the impending doom you were all facing.

“Did you make that happen?” Phoenix asked, placing a glass of bourbon in your hand.

“Not like I had to try very hard,” you laughed, watching as she nearly ran over to join him.

“You’ve always been so good at that,” Jake said, appearing beside you suddenly and you tore your eyes away from watching the fun for a moment to look up at him.

“What’s that?”

“Bringing people together,” he answered, gazing down at you. “This could have been just another detachment. Forced friendship while we’re stuck with each other before we go back to our normal squads, but nothing about that looks forced to me,” he said, turning back to watch Bob twirling Phoenix around, Payback and Fanboy doing the robot to a song completely unsuited for such a dance, Coyote and Rooster singing at the top of their lungs.

“Thank you,” you said and he pulled his attention back to you, an unasked question on his face. “For staying with me, it was nice having you there when I woke up.”

He shrugged, “no problem, you’re Sadie’s best friend… pretty sure she would have flown out here just to kick my ass if I didn’t.” Your face fell for a moment but you quickly recovered.

“Right, just Sadie’s best friend,” you muttered, polishing off your drink in one swig. Suddenly you felt silly, of course that’s only how he saw you. You were naive to think the ‘friendship’ you’d built over the past two decades was nothing more than the fact that you were in his life because of his sister, because your families had bonded over the daughters who couldn’t stand to be apart for more than twelve hours. The quarterly phone calls and drinking sessions past midnight over the holidays were nothing more than circumstantial. 

“Sunshine-” he started but you gave him an empty smile.

“Need a refill,” you said before walking towards the bar and Penny saw you coming, saw the look in your eyes and was quick to pour as soon as you’d set the glass down.

“Gave everyone quite a scare today, you alright?” she asked and you nodded. You knew she wasn’t really asking you about your ejection but you were content to pretend she was.

“All good, comes with the territory,” you chuckled and she gave you a knowing look.

“That one’s on me, consider it your unofficial hazard pay,” she joked and you took a moment to lean against the bar as you collected your thoughts. You couldn’t help but feel stupid  to think that even with the rigors of the job and learning curve of being around each other professionally you’d find some sort of groove resembling the one you settled into back home. You wondered what the hell that even was when you were home. He was always the highlight of your holidays, someone who understood you even though he didn’t know it. You looked forward to sneaking into his room when everyone had gone to sleep with a bottle to talk shit about your families and you shook your head as you sat in the embarrassment of thinking he could have looked forward to that too.

“Sunshine, I didn’t mean-” he started as he approached you and you just shook your head.

“It’s fine, I get it.” you said, focusing your attention on Rooster who was still fiddling with the keys while everyone went back to their groups and listened to it as background noise. “Training is almost over and when the mission is done we can go back to our squads and you can forget about the little kid who’s been following you around for twenty years.” 

“I don’t think you’re a little kid, I really didn’t mean anything by-”

“Jake.” you cut him off, turning to look up at him. “Really, it’s fine. With any luck after this we won’t see each other until Christmas so… maybe it’s better if we just focus on our own shit. We have enough to worry about.” You walked across the bar and slid onto the bench with Rooster who gave you a questioning look.

“Everything okay?” he asked and you nodded, taking a swig of your drink. 

“What do you say to a little Great Balls of Fire?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment and with just a few of the opening chords he’d pulled everyone right back in just like he always did.

“It’s been an honor flying with you,” Maverick started as you all stood at attention. “Each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission, my choice is a reflection of that and nothing more.” 

“Choose your two foxtrot teams,” Cyclone said and the tension in the room was palpable.

“Payback and Fanboy, Phoenix and Bob.” You smiled softly, that’s exactly who you would have picked.

“And your wingman,” Cyclone added and you felt the anxiety settle in the pit of your stomach. It was between you, Rooster, and Jake… You knew there was a complicated history between Maverick and Rooster, and despite your instability with Jake you didn’t want to be pitted against him.

“Viper.” he called out and the first person you looked at was Rooster who was doing a great job at masking his feelings and he shot you a tight smile. You glanced forward to find Jake looking at you and he gave you a slight nod. You thought getting picked for this mission would feel better than this, but you only felt sick.

“The rest of you will stand by on the carrier for any reserve role that’s required. Dismissed,” Warlock said and your limbs were slow to catch up with your brain as you began to move for the exit to head back to your bunk. You’d been training for weeks yet you felt entirely unprepared. Maverick stepping in as team leader restored a bit of your confidence but even with him leading you knew the odds of actually pulling this off and everyone making it back were slim. Part of you was relieved it was you and not Jake, or Rooster. Rooster still had a legacy to fulfill, and Jake simply wasn’t finished. He had a lot left to learn, and a lot left to accomplish.

“Hey,” Rooster called after you, jogging to catch up and you stopped in front of your door, looking around at the crowded hallway and you subtly nodded for him to follow you. “Congratulations.” he said as you closed the door behind you.

“I’m sorry,” you started but he shook his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You earned this, I know better than anyone how good you are in the air. Mav made the right call… I’m only sorry you aren’t team leader, we all thought you would be.”

“If it makes you feel any better you would have been my wingman if I was,” you offered and he chuckled.

“Not Hangman?”

You sighed, “I trust Jake implicitly on the ground, but… I can’t in the air, and he hasn’t had the best reaction to seeing me in this environment. You on the other hand I know I can trust in the air. You’ve saved my ass several times,” you said with a soft smile.

“Only as often as you’ve saved mine,” he replied. “I think you need to look at Hangman’s attitude towards you through a different lens.”

“What do you mean?” you asked as you slightly tilted your head in confusion.

“It’s not that he sees you as his little sister’s best friend, or the kid he can’t seem to escape… it’s the fact that he doesn’t see you that way, and now he’s forced to face it every day.” 

“If he doesn’t see me that way, then what way does he see me?” you asked, struggling to put the dots together and he just smiled.

“I can’t do all the work for you.” he said, pulling you in for a hug. “I’ve missed having you around, V.”

“I’ve missed having you around too, Roo. Let’s be actual friends when this is all over… which means no more sending me photos of bird shit on your canopy,” you said with a laugh.

“I told you, that’s peak friendship!” he said and you pulled away when your door creaked open.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Jake asked as he poked his head in, clearly uncomfortable and you and Rooster both shook your heads.

“No, I was just leaving… I’ll see you before, yeah?” Rooster asked and you nodded, giving his arm a squeeze as he walked past. “Hey, don’t think, just do, right?” he said before leaving and you nodded.

“Don’t think, just do.”

“Sure you two aren’t a thing?” Jake asked as he walked in, glancing behind him to make sure he was gone and you chuckled.

“Scout’s honor,” you replied.

“I just wanted to come congratulate you,” he said and you let out another soft laugh.

“Seems everyone wanted to do that,” you said. “Thank you, I’m sorry you weren’t picked.”

“Don’t be, you were right. You’re the better pilot,” he said and there wasn’t an ounce of dishonesty in his tone. “I need you to have a clear head while you’re up there, but… can we talk when this is all over? I handled this completely wrong and I don’t want to forget about the girl that’s been in my corner for twenty years when we go back to our old squads.” you smiled at the way he rephrased what you’d said earlier.

You nodded, “I’d like that.”

He moved towards the door but turned back to say, “I know Sadie’s your best friend, but just so you know… you’re mine,” before he left and you let out a sharp exhale and flopped onto your bunk as the door shut behind him. You put your hands over your eyes as you let what both Rooster and Jake said sink in and it left you with far more questions than you had when you entered this dorm… so much for having a clear head. You heard the door push open and let out a groan, sitting up to see who was coming to mess with your head now but quickly turned sheepish.

“Jesus, hello to you too,” Phoenix muttered as she walked in and set something on her bunk. “Saw both your boyfriends leave,” she said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes before laying back down.

“They’re not my boyfriends.” you protested and she just laughed.

“Sure they aren’t. How are you feeling?”

“How are you feeling?” you shot back as she sat next to you.

“Terrified, but we’re as ready as we’re going to be.” You sat up and turned to face her fully.

“I’m really glad you’re flying with me, Phe. How badass are we? Not one but two women selected for the uber secret, uber dangerous mission?” you asked and she let out a laugh.

“Super badass, now we just gotta make sure we come home so we can brag about it.”

You stood on the platform with nerves rattling you to your core. You took a deep breath and shook your limbs out as you looked up at your jet.  You reached up to press your hand to its exterior and said, “no funny business today, alright? I wanna come home.”

“Sunshine!” you heard from behind you and turned to see Jake jogging towards you. You stood in silence for a moment before he pulled you in for a bone crushing hug. “You give ‘em hell, okay?” You nodded when he pulled away and you watched him walk to his own jet where he’d be sitting as Dagger Spare. You made eye contact with Maverick who gave you a nod that you returned, a silent exchange that solidified you were in this together.

“Dagger One, up and ready on catapult one.” Maverick said in your ear and you exhaled forcefully, willing any reservations to leave your body with your breath.

“Dagger Spare standing by.”

“Dagger Four, up and ready.”

“Dagger Three, up and ready.”

“Dagger Two, up and ready,” you said as you focused your mind and pushed out anything but the mission. You weren’t going to think about what Rooster had said, or about what Jake wanted to talk to you about when this was all over, and especially not what you were hoping he wanted to talk to you about. Blocking out the noise was what you were good at, and one of the reasons you were selected. Get in, get out, go home. That’s all you had to do.

You launched off the catapult and fell into formation behind Maverick and listened for the command to fall below the radar. The ocean was closer than it had ever been before and somehow it felt so different from your proximity to the ground during training. This was real. This wasn’t a simulation.

“Feet dry in sixty seconds. Comanche, Dagger One. Picture.”

“Comanche, picture clean. Decision is yours.” 

“Copy,” Maverick replied and waited for a beat before saying, “Dagger attack.” Not that it was an option before but there was no turning back now. You watched the tomahawks fly over your head as you assumed attack formation and marked your time as you entered the valley and rounded the snowy ridges. “First SAM site overhead.”

“Looks like we’re clear on radar, Mav.” Phoenix said.

“Let’s not take it for granted.” You knew they were there but you chose to ignore the presence of the SAM’s above you. Worrying about them now wouldn’t do you any good, you had plenty of time for that later. Your only concern was staying below where you could trigger them.

“We got two minutes to target,” Bob said and you checked your radar, increasing your speed.

“Stay with me, Payback.” you grunted as you overtook a curve.

“I got you,” he confirmed.

“We’re picking up two bandits. Single group, two contacts.” Comanche informed and you furrowed your brows slightly.

“Comanche, what’s their heading?” Phoenix asked.

“Bullseye 090, 50, tacked southwest.”

“They’re headed away from us, they don’t know we’re here,” you replied.

“The second those tomahawks hit the airbase those bandits are gonna move to defend the target, we have to get there before they do. Increase speed,” Maverick ordered and you nodded to yourself as you did.

“We got you Mav, don’t wait for me,” Phoenix responded. You lagged as you finally saw one of the SAM’s, a visual you were trying really hard to avoid and your breath caught in your throat as some of the noise started to creep in.

“Stay with me, V, don’t think.” Maverick said to you and you nodded to yourself again.

“Just do,” you finished as you pushed forward on the throttle.

“Jesus, Viper,” Payback shouted in your ear and you chuckled.

“Come on, Payback, you with me?” you asked. “Watch your heads,” you warned as you navigated through a bridge.

“Right behind you!” he confirmed after Fanboy let out some expletives that let you know they were still tailing you.

“Phoenix, stand-by for pop-up strike.”

“Dagger Three in position,” she replied. You heard their grunts through the headset as they fought against the gravity trying to pull them backwards.

“Get me eyes on that target, Bob!”

“Dagger Three, standby, Mav… Standby… I’ve got it!”

“Target acquired, bombs away.” Mav said and you felt your body stiffen as you waited for confirmation.

“We’ve got impact. Check, direct hit! Direct hit!” Bob yelled and you felt a wave of relief that disappeared as quickly as it had washed over you.

“Dagger Two, status.”

“Almost there, Mav, almost there,” you replied as you flew over the ridge.

“Fanboy, where’s my laser?” you asked as you grew closer to the target.

“V, there’s something wrong with this laser… Shit! Dead eye, dead eye, dead eye!” Fanboy shouted and you cursed under your breath.

“Come on, we are running out of time. Get it online!” you yelled back.

“I’m trying!”

“Come on, Fanboy!” you heard Payback say and you were running a risk analysis in your head.

“Nearly there, nearly there!”

“There’s no time, I’m dropping blind.” you said, voice calm and steady as you focused on the target.

“Viper, I’ve got this!” Fanboy tried and you wanted to reassure him but you couldn’t.

“Pull up. Bombs away, bombs away!” you said as you pressed your button before pulling up.

“Bullseye, bullseye, bullseye!” you heard command say but you couldn’t focus on anything as you tried to get oxygen to your brain, the force was compressing your lungs and you could feel the edges of your vision darken as you let out breathless pants.

“We’re not out of this yet,” Maverick grunted. “Here it comes.” you listened as they communicated, trying to evade the SAM’s. “Viper, status.” You wanted to answer but you couldn’t as you flew over the ridge and onto the radar.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered, looking overhead as the missiles launched. “Smoke in the air!”

“SAM on your six, Viper!” Payback warned.

“Deploying countermeasures,” you called as you slammed the button. “Negative contact.”

“Dagger one defending.”

“Talk to me, Bob!”

“Break right, Phoenix, break right! Mav, nine o’clock! Nine o’clock!” It was pure chaos as they exploded overhead.

“Viper, two more on your six!” you heard someone say but you couldn’t tell who.

“Dagger Two, defending,” you said as you hit your flare button.

“Payback, SAM on your nose.”

“Dagger Four defending.”

“Viper, tally, tally, seven o’clock!

“Talk to me, Bob!”

“On our six!”

“Dagger Two defending.”

“Phoenix, break right!”

“I see it, I see it!” Everyone’s voices were overlapping as you tried to look out for yourselves and each other, in all your years in the Navy you’d been in some pretty fucked up situations but this one just felt different. You yelled out to Phoenix and watched as she came close to taking a hit, and you could hear Fanboy’s panicked shouts trying to keep up with what was going on around you. You thought that if you had the time you might throw up, but you didn’t.

“Dagger Two, defending,” you said as you looked over your shoulder to see two on your tail. “Fuck, I’m out of flares!”

“Viper, evade, evade!” Maverick shouted and you whipped your jet around but shook your head.

“I can’t shake ‘em! They’re on me, they’re on me!” You watched Maverick’s jet pass overhead as he deployed his flares but gasped when one hit his tail. Your heart sank as you watched what was left of his jet fall out of the sky and tears pricked at your eyes that you quickly blinked away.

“Maverick!” you yelled, trying to turn in your seat to look for a parachute.

“Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit! Maverick is down!” Phoenix called out as the wreckage of his plane floated down around you.

“Dagger One status? Status!” you asked with no answer. “Anyone see him? Does anyone see him?”

“I didn’t see a parachute,” Payback replied.

“We have to circle back.”

“Comanche. Bandits inbound. Single group, hot. Recommend dagger flow south. One minute to intercept.” There was a pause before you heard, “All daggers flow to ECP.”

“What about Maverick?” you asked, chest tightening at the thought of leaving him behind. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Dagger Spare, request permission to launch and fly air cover,” you heard Jake in your ear and you didn’t realize how badly you’d needed to hear the sound of his voice.

“Negative, spare.”

“Dagger, you are not to engage. Repeat, do not engage.” You gripped your controls as you listened to them ask you to acknowledge you heard the order but it all sounded muffled.

“Viper, those bandits are closing,” Phoenix said. “We can’t go back.”

“V, he’s gone. Maverick’s gone,” Bob added and you could hear the sadness in his voice but you weren’t accepting that. You thought of Rooster… of him telling you Maverick had pulled his papers and how despite how angry he was you could see through it to the hurt. He’d lost his father and alienated his only male role model. You thought of him listening in back at the carrier, the regret you knew he would be feeling as he realized Maverick was gone.

“I’m his wingman,” you said firmly. “Daggers flow back to carrier.” you ordered.

“Viper?” “What the fuck are you doing?” Fanboy asked.

“Dagger Two. Return to carrier.” You heard command say but you ignored it.

“Maverick is down which means I’m team leader now, I’m not leaving him behind.”

“Viper, you can’t do anything for him,” Phoenix tried.

“Only if I don’t try. Return to carrier, now.” you ordered again as you flipped around in pursuit of where his jet had fallen. You flicked off your radio and disconnected the overlapping chatter filling your ear. You whizzed back through the canyon and saw Maverick running through the snow covered clearing, trying to evade a helicopter and you used the element of surprise to your advantage… swinging around behind it.

“Dagger Two, deploying missile,” you narrated as you pressed the button but then let out a breathless laugh as you made contact. “Don’t really know who I’m saying that to.” You moved to circle back around and unknowingly triggered a SAM that quickly intercepted you and you cursed as you pulled up on your ejection loops.

You hit the ground with a thud and rolled over onto your back as you let out a groan. “Son of a bitch,” you muttered, “I am so sick of ejecting.” Your muscles ached as you worked on rolling up your parachute and you lifted your head to see Maverick running towards you.

“You alright?” he yelled and you nodded as you stood.

“Yeah, I’m good. You alright?” you asked but were caught off guard when he sent you flying backwards into the snow. “Oh, Jesus,” you muttered as you hit the ground, again. “What the fuck?” you yelled as you got up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as you threw your helmet to the ground.

“What am I doing here?” 

“You think I took that missile so you could be down here with me? You should be back on the carrier by now!”

“I saved your life!” you shouted.

“I saved your life, that’s the whole point.” he countered and you narrowed your eyes at him as you dusted the snow off your jacket. “What the hell were you even thinking?”

“I’m your wingman!” you shouted, throwing your arms out in exasperation. “That means something to me beyond the mission. I haven’t lost anyone yet and I don’t intend on losing anyone today.” He stared at you for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Well, it’s good to see you,” he finally said and you put your hands on your hips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Yeah, good to see you too… so, what’s the plan?” you asked and he just gave you that famous Maverick look that said you probably weren’t going to like it.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” you said as you looked at an old plane through your binoculars. “An F-14?”

“I shot down three migs in one of those,” he pointed out and you just gave him an incredulous look.

“We don’t even know if that bag of ass can fly,” you countered.

“Let’s find out!” he said before taking off and your eyes widened.

“Mav!” you whisper-yelled after him. “Okay,” you muttered as you followed suit, stumbling into step with him as you walked out into the open, trying your best to act natural. “There’s a lot of people around.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s more over there.” you said as you looked around as subtly as you could. You knew this mission would be unlike anything you’d ever faced but you really weren’t anticipating being in enemy territory on foot.

“Okay.” he said, looking around. “Let’s start running.”

“Yeah, run.” you agreed, chasing after him into the hangar.

“Once I give you the signal for air, you’re gonna flip this switch until the needle gets to 120. When the engine starts, you gotta pull out the pins and disconnect everything. You understand?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, watching him power it on.

“Once I’m up, stow the ladder,” he yelled as he climbed up and you were quick to fold it away behind him. You gave him a thumbs up as you flipped the switch and watched the dial and when the engine fired on you ran around the jet pulling everything out.

“Ah, shit,” you huffed, struggling slightly as you jumped up onto the wing and climbed into the backseat. “Jesus, this thing is old,” you commented as you looked over everything and tried to make sense of it.

“Canopy?” he asked and you confirmed you were clear.

“Both runways are cratered,” you pointed out. “How are we gonna get this museum piece off the ground?” You looked out the window and furrowed your brows. “Hey Mav, the wings are coming out.”

“Yep.”

“Why are the wings coming out?” you asked but he didn’t answer. “Holy shit, are we really using a taxiway as a runway?” You were absolutely terrified but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a small part of you that was absolutely exhilarated. 

“Just hang on,” he said and you flew backwards in your seat as he took off. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“Mav?” you asked, looking ahead of him at the structure you were barrelling towards. “Holy shit,” you muttered as you closed your eyes and felt the wheels lift off the ground. You looked down and switched your ESAT on, hoping they’d see you and send reinforcements.

“Alright Viper, get us in touch with the boat.”

“Working on it, everything’s out. What should I do?”

“First the radio. Throw the uh… the UHF2 circuit breaker. Try that.”

“Sure, I’m not looking at like three hundred breakers or anything… got anything more specific?”

“I don’t know, that was not my department,” he answered and you nodded.

“Where’s Bob when you need him?” you muttered as you leaned down to fiddle with what you could find and your eyes widened when you looked beneath you. “Mav, tally two, five o’clock low. What do we do?”

“Okay, listen. Just be cool. If they knew who we were, we’d be dead already.”

“That’s comforting… what’s the plan?”

“Just put your mask on. Remember, we’re on the same team.” you watched as they pulled up beside you. “Just wave and smile.” You forced a smile as you watched the other pilot gesture with his hands but it wasn’t anything you were familiar with.

“What is that, what’s he saying?”

“No idea. I have no idea what he’s saying.”

“What about that one?” you asked as they changed gestures. “Any idea?”

“Nope, never seen that one either.” Maverick played dumb as he tapped his helmet and gave a thumbs down. “Shit, his wingman is moving into weapons envelope. Alright, listen up. When I tell you, you grab those rings above your head. That’s the ejection handle.”

“Can we outrun them?” you asked, not exactly keen on the idea of punching out for a third time in as many weeks.

“Not their missiles and guns.”

“Then it’s a dogfight,” you said, and he sighed.

“An F-14 against fifth-gen fighters?”

“It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot. What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

“But you are here,” he said and you could hear the apprehension in his tone. “I don’t intend on losing anyone today,” he repeated your earlier words.

“So don’t. Come on, Mav. Don’t think, just do.” He was silent for a moment and your hands flew to brace yourself as he jolted to the side and laid into one of the other jets.

“Tell me when you see smoke in the air,” he ordered and you twisted in your seat to watch behind you.

“Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air!”

“Hang on!” He dropped a missile and led the other plane directly into it.

“Splash one! Splash one!” you cheered, still trying to find your bearings as the plane jolted around. “Here comes another one!”

“Viper, flares, now now now!” he called and you pressed the button, watching as they intercepted the missile. “Splitting the throttles, coming around,” he said as you grunted and placed a hand on the ceiling. “Give me tone, give me tone.”

“You got him, Mav!”

“Taking the shot,” he said as he deployed and you watched the other plane do an evasion maneuver you’ve seen before. “What the-”

“Holy shit,” you said, watching him practically float past your canopy. “What the fuck was that?”

“Hang on, we’ve gotta get low. The terrain will confuse his targeting system.”

“Here he comes!” you shouted as he was hot on your tail.

“Talk to me, Viper, where is he?”

“He’s still on us,” you managed to get out as you bounced from side to side of the canopy. “We took a hit, we took a hit!”

“Damn it.”

“Come on Mav, do some of that pilot shit!” 

“Brace yourself.” You quickly rose in altitude and you struggled to get a breath in as you went careening back into the valley. “I’ve got tone, taking the shot.” he said and you watched the other plane take it out with countermeasures. “Out of missiles, switching to guns.”

“You got him, Mav!” you yelled as the distance lessened.

“It’s not over yet,” he replied. “One last chance.” You watched him use his last round of ammunition to rip into the top of the other jet and you let out a cheer when it crashed into the rocky hillside.

“Yes! Splash two!” you said before you went back to fiddling with the controls, trying to recall anything from initial training back in the day and you exhaled in relief when the system in front of you came to life. “Mav, I got the radio on!”

“Outstanding, get us in touch with the boat.”

“Copy that,” you said just as alarms started ringing. “What the fuck? Where even is he?”

“He’s on our nose,” Maverick said and you really wished you didn’t hear the dread in his tone. “We’re out of ammo. Smoke in the air, Viper, flares!” 

“That was way too close,” you said. “We’re out of flares, Mav! Shit, he’s already on us.” you grunted as bullets began hitting your jet. “This is not good!” Maverick did his best to try and evade but it wasn’t any use. “We took another hit!”

“No, no, no. no!”

“We can’t take much more of this!”

“We can’t outrun this guy, we gotta eject.”

“What?” you yelled, panic creeping into your voice.

“We need altitude. Pull the ejection handles the second I tell you to.”

“Mav, wait-” you started but he cut you off.

“Viper, there’s no other way. Eject, eject, eject!” he ordered and you reached above you to pull on the loops but they were stuck. “Viper, pull the handle, eject!”

“It’s not working!” you yelled back, still trying. “Mav!” You were still rising in altitude and you pressed your hands against the canopy as you realized this was it. You weren’t getting out of this. You thought of Jake, how he was going to have to tell Sadie… how it was going to fall on him to tell your parents not only were you in the Navy but that you were dead. You thought about Christmas Eve’s with him in middle school, dancing with him at his senior prom because even though you were a freshman he’d much rather have danced with you, and laughing at his old school photos while he watched you walk around the museum that was his childhood bedroom with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. It’s not that he sees you as his little sister’s best friend, it’s the fact that he doesn’t. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, realization washing over you. I know Sadie’s your best friend, but just so you know… you’re mine.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Maverick said and you flinched when you heard an explosion but exhaled in relief when you realized it wasn’t you. You turned to see what was left of the enemy jet floating down to the water as an F-18 emerged through the smoke. Your eyes were wide as you tried to process what was happening… were you actually dead? Is this what the afterlife is?

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is your savior speaking.” Jake started and you let out a breathless laugh as he pulled up beside you. “Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing.”

“Jake…” you said, looking over at him in disbelief.

“Hey sunshine,” he replied. “I’ll see you back on deck.” he said before flying ahead of you and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled past your lips as the adrenaline worked its way through your system.

“Maverick is downwind. No front landing gear. No tail hook. Pull the cable and raise the barricade,” Maverick communicated as you buzzed the tower and you giggled.

“Cyclone hated that,” you muttered and Maverick chuckled as you circled around and felt a jolt. “For the love of god, please don’t tell me we just lost an engine,” you sighed.

“Alright, I won’t tell you that,” he replied. You grunted as you hit the deck and flew forward in your seat at the impact before coming to a screeching halt. You were both silent for a moment, in disbelief that you actually made it back. “You good?” he finally asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you answered as the canopy raised and you were met with the cheers of all of the crewmen and your teammates. As your feet hit the ground it actually crossed your mind to drop to your knees and kiss the disgusting tarmac you were so grateful for but you had someone to find. Phoenix threw her arms around you and you reciprocated the hug but you were searching the crowd over her shoulder, muttering half-hearted thanks to the people congratulating you and you pushed everyone away as you started walking.

“Sunshine!” you heard and you turned around and finally saw him. You exhaled sharply as you ran towards him but he held out a hand that stopped you in your tracks. “What the hell were you thinking? I thought you were dead,” he shouted over the commotion and you knew you probably should have been apologizing, or explaining yourself but instead you just smiled as you looked up at him. You could see about a dozen emotions on his face, but the one you were focusing on was the one that had been there all along… you’d just been too slow to realize it. “Why are you smiling? This isn’t funny, you really scared the shit out of me. That was reckless, and it- I… Fuck sunshine, I love you so much, I can’t ever go through thinking you’re dead again. Are you even- shit, are you okay? Let me look-” you knew he wasn’t going to stop on his own so you reached out and grabbed onto his flight suit with a smirk, pulling him into you and pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately and you smiled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He lifted you off the ground as the cheers magnified around you.

“About damn time,” Rooster muttered from beside you but you didn’t care.

“I love you too, idiot,” you said when you pulled away and he set you back down but kept his arms firmly around your waist. “Chalked yourself another kill, looks like I’m going to have to even the score.”

“Always so competitive,” he said with a shake of his head before kissing you again and you pulled away when you felt a hand on your shoulder to see Maverick. He was looking at you with so much pride and gratitude that was only mirrored on your own face.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he said and you felt tears prick at your eyes.

“Thank you for saving mine, sir,” you replied and held out your hand for him to shake, but when he took it he only pulled you in for a hug. You watched him start to disappear into the crowd and quickly turned to grab Rooster by the collar and you gave him a look that had his eyes widening in fear. “I didn’t do that for Mav, I did that for you. Go,” you said firmly, shoving him in the direction Maverick had gone.

“You know, you could have just told me. You didn’t have to be an ass about it,” you said, looking up at Jake who rolled his eyes playfully.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked as you hit his arm. “I didn’t know… not until I thought it was too late,” he said, voice lowering as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb against your cheekbone to wipe away a falling tear.

“I thought I’d realized too late,” you whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead. 

“Now we have all the time in the world… after we get our asses handed to us for deliberately disobeying orders,” he said, pulling away when he noticed Cyclone approaching and you chuckled as you looked over your shoulder.

“Hey, if we get dishonorably discharged at least we’re alive and have each other, right?” 

“That’s all we need.”

ONE YEAR LATER

“Cheers to the one year anniversary of Dagger Squad,” Phoenix said as all of your glasses clinked together and you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you looked around the room at your team.

“And begrudgingly, cheers to Cyclone who, in his own words, completely disagreed with our tactics and lack of respect for authority, but couldn’t deny the overall effectiveness of our squad,” you added as everyone laughed and you leaned into Jake beside you. “Happy Dagger-versary everyone.”

“Cheers!” everyone shouted as you sank back into your previous conversations and you looked up at Jake as you took a sip of your beer.

“It’s our one year too,” you pointed out and he smirked down at you.

“Don’t you worry, sunshine, I’ve got a whole thing planned,” he said and you smiled as

you rested your head against his chest. “How lucky am I to have had you following me around for the majority of my life?”

You pulled away and playfully hit his arm, “when you say it like that it makes me sound so juvenile!” you protested and he just laughed.

“Hey, those are your words. Besides, you’re the one who followed me into the Navy…”

“And hid from you for eight years!” you said, pretending to be mad but your laughter gave you away.

“It’s okay, you just wanted to follow in the footsteps of the greatest pilot in the world. No one could ever blame you for that.” he teased.

“Are you conveniently forgetting you admitted I was the better pilot?”

“Yeah, but then I saved your life, so…” you narrowed your eyes before leaning up to peck his lips.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Anytime, sunshine… anytime.”

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @djs8891 @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you - sorry!)

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - One

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

This is my first original fic after The Pilot and his Girl and it will be a very different read (just in case you're totally traumatised by The Pilot...😬)

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery. The plan is to post one chapter every Sunday night so hold me to that schedule when my procrastination kicks in!

Warnings won't be very serious, just lots of fluff, lots of food, some mention of drugs because you know some of these Pedro boys are just like that.

Series Master List

@harriedandharassed tagging you in this because you said you wanted to read anything new ❤❤❤

The drawback of being a baker is that your working day starts when others are still tucked in bed with hours left to sleep. Or just coming home from a party. But you don’t mind all that much, there’s a certain tranquil peace to being awake and working in the bakery while the rest of the world sleeps. 

In the warmer months you prop open the back door so that you can hear the birds starting to sing as the sky slowly grows lighter outside, today is just one of those mornings. 

The early morning radio show is on low in the background as you prepare the day. Yesterday's loaves have proofed overnight in the cold storage and are ready for the oven, the pie doughs taken out and softening while you prepare the cookie doughs. 

People don’t often knock on the bakery's back door before you open for the day, but it happens, so when you suddenly hear someone shuffle and knock, you’re not surprised. Wiping your hands on your apron you turn the corner into the small back room. A man is leaning on the door frame, but not the sexy, romance novel leaning. No, this man is leaning in a ‘lean-or-fall-over’ kinda way. His eyes are covered by large black sunglasses that he pulls down as you spot him, a tired but cheeky smirk on his face. 

“Hey, baker girl,” he grins, his voice gravelly like he’s chain smoked all night, “got any sna- oh whoops!” he giggles madly as he loses his balance and tumbles sideways, catching the other door frame before he grabs onto your arms and almost manages to stand up straight. 

“You might need coffee, not snacks,” you say, holding onto him to stop him from falling face forward into your apron.  

“I’m fine,” he grins, pushing himself upright again but still holding on to the door frame, “I just came from this party, were you there?,” he asks, giving you another over the glasses look, this time clearly checking you out as his eyes drag up and down your form, lingering on your pink crocs. 

“Actually, I would’ve remembered if you were there, love the crocs,” he chuckles. 

“What’s wrong with my crocs?” you ask, slightly offended, “They’re great for people like me, you know, people who actually work on Thursdays.” 

“No, no, I mean it, I love your crocs!” the man says, wide eyed and shoving his glasses up in his wild curls, “I have like ten crocs, one pair is pink too.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, giving you a confused look, “Wait, it’s Thursday?” 

“Yeah, five am, Thursday morning,” you say, wondering how to get rid of this disheveled man so that you can get back to the cookie dough. 

“Fuck, oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck….” the man groans, bending double and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I’m so fucked…I thought it was Wednesday.” 

He stands up again and you can’t help but feel sorry for him, he looks devastated. 

“I was meant to fly out to San Antonio yesterday and take my nice to Six Flags for her birthday, and I fucking missed it!” 

He slumps against the door frame and thumps the back of his head against it repeatedly, moaning, “I’m such a fuck up, I’m such a fuck up.” 

“Hey, take it easy, I’m sure it’ll be fine, just apologize and take her another day,” you say, putting your hand on the man’s arm to stop him from giving himself a concussion in your bakery, “I’m sure she’ll understand.” 

“You think?” he says, “I’m not the best at remembering birthdays, I may have missed a few in the past.” 

“Well, then she’ll be mad at you, but all you can do is apologize right? And try to make it up to her as best you can.” 

“Yeah…yeah…maybe you’re right, thanks baker girl.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you notice the smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes, “How about those snacks? I’m fucking starving.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the man’s a mess but somehow adorable at the same time with his wild hair and stained t-shirt. 

“Sure, I’ll get you something, what do you like?”

“Do you have sausage rolls?” he asks, following you into the kitchen, “I fucking love sausage rolls.”

“What, like those things they made on the Great British Bake Off?” you reply, opening your walk in fridge to survey the snack options. 

“Yeah, I did this movie once, in England, and there was a bakery next to my apartment and whenever I got back from a party, early morning, I’d knock on their back door and they’d sell me these fat sausage rolls, fresh from the oven, fucking amazing.” 

“Sorry, no sausage rolls in this bakery,” you say, “but my cookies will be done soon, if you can wait.” 

You turn back to the man and realize he’s wandering around the kitchen, sticking his nose in your bowls, sniffing loudly. 

“Hey, don’t stick your finger in that,” you say, “Health and Safety are going to have my license if they catch you.”

“Sorry, I’ve just got the munchies, I’ve been high for like, two days,” he says, waving his arms around, “this place is torture for a high pers-OH! Do you know what I love?”

“No,” you sigh, exasperated, “I don’t know what you love.”  

He completely misses your tone as he spins in a circle around the kitchen and you realize that he’s wearing what looks like very expensive pajama pants and no shoes, just socks.

“I love those…what do you call them, like…millionaire’s something?” 

“Millionaire's shortbread?” you ask and he spins around to you with a big grin. 

“Yes! Those! With like the chocolate and the peanut butter and they’re like the best Reese’s ever, only even more fucking amazing. Can you make those?”  “I don’t know, maybe,” you begin and the man actually falls to his knees, shuffling over the floor to you. 

“Please, I’ll do anything, I’m dying here, beautiful baker girl, make me happy!”

“Are you asking me to bake for you or proposing?” you laugh, this man is too ridiculous as he grins up at you. 

“If you make them for me, I won’t marry you, but there are many other things I can do,” he says, pulling down his dark sunglasses from his head and winking at you from over the edge, his cheeky grin making it impossible to scowl at him. 

“Fine, I’ll make them for you, just get up from my floor, please,” you say, reaching for his hand. He takes yours with a bright smile, kissing the back of it, before he stumbles to his feet and follows you over to your big workbench.

“I’m Dieter, by the way. Can I sit here?” he asks, pointing to the stool that stands next to the bench. 

“Nice to meet you Dieter,” you say, “sure, go ahead, it’s got wheels on it though so be careful.” 

“Awesome,” Dieter says and sits down, immediately speeding across the floor with a kick of his socked feet. He stops himself from crashing into the fridge door by grabbing on to the handle before he shoots off again, rolling all the way over to the open back door. 

“Don’t fall out through the door please,” you call after him and you hear him giggle, a second later he comes spinning into the kitchen again. 

“This thing is awesome, I need to buy one for my house.” 

“Happy you’re enjoying yourself,” you laugh and walk to where yesterday’s bakes are stacked on trays. You’d made a layer of shortbread yesterday, you were planning on making lemon bars but Millionaire’s shortbread will work too. As you bring it over to your work station Dieter rolls past you and stops by the bench.  “Can I help?” he asks, looking up at you, his sunglasses back in his messy hair. He’s kinda cute when you think about it, gorgeous brown eyes, and the smile he’s giving you is open and curious with an adorable dimple. 

“Yeah, sure, you can be in charge of peanuts,” you say, walking over to the dry storage, “They need to be bashed into chunks with a rolling pin, something tells me that’s something you can probably handle.” 

“That sounds fun, please, direct me,” he says, kicking himself over to the storage cupboard on the stool. 

“Oops, sorry,” he giggles, grabbing hold of your hips to stop himself from crashing into the storage door, “I kicked too hard that time.” 

“Go easy there, Dieter,” you laugh as he untangles himself from the stool and stands up. You get on your tiptoes to grab the peanuts and suddenly realize he’s still holding on to your hips, standing close behind you. You swear you feel his nose brush the side of your head, a quick inhale from him, and then he steps back, letting go. 

“Peanuts?” he says, leaning past you and reaching up to grab the bag sitting just out of your reach. His arm brushes over yours and he’s suddenly very close again, his citrusy after shave, mingling with the heady sweet smoke of weed, fills your senses. 

“Uhh…y-yeah,” you stutter, “thanks. And the dark chocolate if you can reach it.” 

“Sure, this one?” he asks, grabbing the bag of Valrhona from the shelf. This time his chest is pressed against your back, you really should move out of his way, but he’s right behind you, almost pinning you in place, as he has to stretch to his full length to reach. And you find that you don’t mind at all, he’s warm and solid behind you, and this is more action than you’ve had in months. 

“That’s the one, thanks,” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. 

Dieter brings it down to your level and you take it from him, expecting him to step back and give you room to go back to the work bench. But instead he stays right behind you, and this time you really do feel him bend down and brush his nose over your cheek, down to where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“You smell delicious, like a cookie,” he mumbles and your heart literally skips a beat. 

“Th-thanks,” you splutter and when Dieter steps back, letting you move, you avoid his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. 

“S-so the…umm…rolling pin is on that shelf there,” you say, pointing down to your right, “and there’s a measuring cup too, just…umm…just get a cup of peanuts, and put them in a plastic bag and bash away. Just wash your hands first.” 

“Ok, I can do that,” he says with a grin and he walks behind you to the sink in the corner while you measure out the peanut butter into a sauce pan. 

Dieter gets to work on the peanuts with great enthusiasm until you tell him they’re broken up enough. 

“Just leave them there, you can come here and stir the peanut butter while I get the caramel ready,” you instruct him and he ambles over in just his socks. 

“What happened to your shoes? If you don’t mind me asking,” you point at his stripey, multicolored socks. 

“I’m not sure,” Dieter glances down at his feet, “I had shoes when I left home, I’m sure of it, but after that it gets a bit hazy.” 

“You’ve really been partying since Tuesday?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, it was a good party so we just kinda kept going,” he grins, “there was a huge pool and we all went in. Actually, maybe that’s where I lost my shoes?” 

“Maybe, you could go back and look for them?” 

“And miss out on baking with a pretty baker girl? Never!” he chuckles and you’re not totally sure he’s being serious or not, but the grin he gives you makes you hope he is. 

“I think this is melted,” he says, draggin the spoon through the silky smooth peanut butter, showing you the bowl. 

“Yeah, that looks done. Just pass me that tray of shortbread and I’ll pour the caramel on top.” 

“Can I lick the bowl?” he asks, looking over your shoulder as you let the thick golden liquid pool on top of the shortbread. 

“I’m pretty good at scraping, there’s usually nothing left to lick,” you say, dragging the spatula around the edge. 

“Can’t you be a bit sloppy, just for me?” Dieter grins, standing entirely too close, “It smells so good, I wanna taste it.” 

This time he’s definitely flirting, the salacious smile on his face while he winks at you, makes you both roll your eyes and squash down butterflies on the inside. 

“Fine, I’ll leave some for you,” you smile, looking back at the shortbread again and scraping out caramel, leaving the last of it on the spatula. Putting the bowl to the side, you hold out the spatula for him. But instead of taking it, he grabs hold of your hand, and licks the caramel off the spatula with a long swipe of his tongue. His eyes don’t leave yours and the whole thing is so over the top you burst out laughing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, tone it down maybe?” you snort, as he abruptly stops licking, letting go of your hand. 

“What?” he blushes, “I saw it in this movie, it looked sexy.” 

“Yeah, in a porno maybe!” you say, handing him the spatula, and only the spatula.

He takes it with a sheepish look, “Sorry, that usually works.” 

“Not in this bakery, I have to work with that spatula when you’re gone, I can’t have it being used as a porno prop, Dieter.” You grab a new spatula from the holder on the counter and start smoothing out the caramel. 

“You do smell good though,” Dieter says, still looking sheepish, “that wasn’t just a line.” 

“Thanks,” you shoot him a quick smile, working over the caramel, “you smell good too, underneath all that weed funk.” 

At this he grabs the front of his t-shirt and sniffs it, wrinkling his nose, “Yeah, it’s kinda obvious, huh.” 

“Can’t believe you partied for forty-eight hours, I’d be dead on my feet,” you say, mixing the peanut butter into the caramel layer, sprinkling in some of the crushed peanuts, “Do you want coffee or something while we wait for this to set?” 

“Fuck yes, coffee sounds amazing!” Dieter exclaims, dropping the spatula from his mouth, “And this stuff is amazing too, I’d eat a bowl of just this.” 

“You’d die of a sugar rush if you did,” you laugh, sliding the tray into the large fridge and setting a timer on your phone, “C’mon, the coffee machine is out front.” 

One of the advantages of being the sole owner of the bakery was that you got to decide what to skimp on, and what to splurge on. And the espresso machine was something you’d really splurged on. For a shop that mainly sold take out baked goods, it was way over the top, but it meant you always had great coffee on hand for your early mornings. The machine was already up and running, humming quietly as you started preparing two shots. 

“How do you take it, Dieter?” you ask and he winks at you.  “Anyway you wanna give it to me, baker girl,” he grins and when you sigh loudly, he laughs and holds up his hands in defense. “C’mon! I had to! You set it up perfectly!” 

“How do you take your coffee?” you emphasis and glare at him, but your smile is breaking through and he gives you a playful poke as he comes up and stands next to the machine. 

“Extra everything, cream, sugar, any of those coffee syrups if you have ‘em.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” you smirk, “A guy who loves Millionaire’s Shortbread, of course he wants extra everything. I bet you’re lining up outside your local Starbucks the morning they start selling Pumpkin Spice.” 

“I would never drink Starbucks!” he protests, “Fucking vile coffee and the worst of corporate America. But you can’t beat a good pumpkin spice if you’ve got quality coffee.” 

“I’ve only got great coffee here, but no syrup, you want a latte? Double shot espresso?” 

“Please,” he says, leaning against the counter next to the espresso machine as he looks over the front of your little shop, crossing his arms. You can’t help the glance up at his arms, the t-shirt hanging on for dear life as it clings to his biceps and broad shoulders. The many rings on his fingers look tiny on his large hands as he grips the outside of his arms, and you’re temporarily distracted by them, and his close proximity. 

The hiss of the machine pulls you back to reality, coffee sputtering out of the spouts into the cup. You glance back up at Dieter and find him watching you with a crooked smile, a dimple in his cheek. 

“What?” you say, looking back at the machine and begin to steam the milk. 

“You really are beautiful,” he says, almost matter of factly, “especially when you zone out.” 

“It’s early, and I’ve been up since two am, but thanks, I guess,” you reply, handing him the latte and pointing to the sugar bowl on the counter next to the till. 

“I wasn’t trying to make a move or anything,” he says, sounding slightly hurt, “I just wanted to tell you I think you’re gorgeous.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you say, immediately regretting your tone, “I’m just not used to compliments I guess, I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I should’ve just said thanks,” you look over at him and give him a smile, “Thanks Dieter.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, smiling back. 

You knock out the used coffee grounds and fill it up again to make your own coffee. Dieter reaches over and grabs four sugar cubes and drops them in the latte, stirring while he watches you work. He’s watching you closely again and it makes your cheeks heat up. He’s got a strange energy of childish mayhem and intense magnetism, chaos that’s either going to make you laugh until your sides hurt or fuck you until you can’t walk straight for a week. And you’re not sure which one you want. 

Your coffee done, you add a splash of milk and lean against the counter opposite Dieter, taking a careful sip. He’s wrapped both his large hands around the thick glass and is delicately licking the foam, drawing a pattern in it with his tongue. You watch him for a few seconds until he notices you and gives you a sheepish grin. 

“What?” he asks, copying your tone from earlier. 

“You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have a chance to stop it, immediately regretting your filterless mouth. 

But he gives you a disarming smile, “Gorgeous. Gorgeous baker girl that smells like cookies and caramel and chocolate.” 

“You’re just high,” you can’t help but scoff at him, but he just shakes his head. 

“No, not at all.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at you, the silence stretching between you until you think something will have to snap and it’s probably going to be you. 

The phone saves you, the timer going off just as you don’t think you can stand another second of his chocolate brown eyes looking at you like you’re the snack he’s been asking for. 

“Thecaramelisset,” you rush out, breaking eye contact and hurrying back into the kitchen as if another second in the fridge would ruin the whole thing. Dieter comes in behind you at a slower pace, still drinking his coffee. 

You pull out the tray and set it down on the workbench before turning on the burner under a saucepan of water, setting up a water bath. 

“I’m just gonna melt this chocolate, and then I’ll spread it on top, it’ll set pretty quickly. And then it’s done.” You work quickly, too flustered to look at him and he hoovers just to your side, watching your movements. 

The chocolate melts fast, you only need a thin layer, and then you pour it over the caramel. You scrape the bowl clean but leave a generous amount of chocolate on the spatula, giving it to Dieter. 

“Don’t burn your mouth, it’s still warm”, you say when he takes it. He doesn’t grab your hand this time, but his fingertips brushes over yours as he nods, and it sends a sharp little jolt through you. 

You turn back to the almost finished shortbread but can’t help glancing over at him. His pink tongue comes out and licks the chocolate, this time it’s not over the top, nothing provocative about it, he’s not even looking at you. But you swear you can feel every stroke of his tongue on your own skin, burning hot and wet.

You swallow and tear your eyes away, blindly reaching for the crushed peanuts, taking a handful and scattering it across the chocolate. The Millionaire’s Shortbread is done and you slide the tray back into the fridge, it only needs a few minutes. Dieter remains by the counter, finishing off the chocolate on the spatula as you start to clean up the kitchen and bring out the cookie dough that still needs to be taken care of. You see Dieters eyes widen as he sees the first scoop of dough land on the baking tray. 

“Is that chocolate chip,” he almost whispers reverently, spatula forgotten, as he slowly comes over to stare down into the bowl. 

“You want to try it? It’s double chocolate chip with browned butter.” 

He makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, tilting his head back before he looks at you and nods, “Please, it smells so good.” 

You grab a tasting spoon, giving him a generous scoop and watch with a smile as he puts it in his mouth. His eyes close of their own volition as he moans, far too enticingly, around the spoon. 

“Oh my god…” he sighs, slowly chewing the dough, “This is like heaven, better than sex, better than fucking coke.” 

“Knock yourself out,” you chuckle, “it’s not healthy but it’s sure as hell better for you than coke.” 

“And sex?” he asks with a wink, still rolling the dough around his mouth. 

“They’re probably on par, but this is tastier than cum.” 

Dieter nearly chokes, coughing loudly as you giggle. Between repeated attempts at clearing his throat he points his finger at you accusingly, trying to grin between his coughing.

“You’re…” he coughs again, “You’re a dirty baker girl!” he finally manages, grinning widely as you go back to scooping dough, still giggling. 

“I can’t believe I said that, but you did serve it up perfectly.” 

“I did, but I never thought your mind was that filthy, I’m appalled” he laughs, placing a hand on his chest in a mock gesture of shock. “Better than cum huh? You have a lot of experience in that department?” 

Now he’s winking again, poking to get more details out of you. So instead you take another tasting spoon, scoop up more dough and put it straight into his mouth to shut him up. It works, he grins around the spoon and smacks his lips at the taste. 

“So fucking good, definitely better than cum,” he smirks, earning an eye roll from you. “Do you wanna taste it?” 

“I’m good, I’ve already tasted the dough many times,” you reply, careful to specify that you’re talking about dough. 

“Maybe not like this though,” Dieter says, suddenly bending down and pressing his lips against yours. It almost makes you jump, his soft lips against yours, his aftershave, it all envelops you in an instance. He’s not touching you anywhere else, just your lips, and you can’t taste him, his mouth is still closed. Maybe you should push him off, the thought flits through your mind for a split second. But you want to taste him, taste the cookie dough you know is delicious, mingled with him, so you part your lips, your tongue coming out. 

Dieter lets a quiet groan slip out as he part his lips, letting you in, opening his mouth and tilting his head to come closer. You hear the spoon clatter to the floor as his hand comes up and cups your cheek, his big hand reaching behind your neck, another stifled groan from him. He tastes of sugar, coffee and chocolate, all flavors mingling into something enticing that pulls you closer.

There’s nothing delicate about this kiss now, you lick into his mouth, and he offers you all the space you want, holding you close and moaning softly as your tongues tangle.

“Touch my hair,” he mumbles, breathing into your mouth, “I want to feel your hands in my hair.” 

“They’re all sticky, Dieter,” you protest but you feel him shake his head, his lips brushing over yours. 

“I don’t care, touch me, hold me, I want to smell like you when I leave,” his tongue slips between your lips, and you run your hands through his hair. You can feel it sticking, tugging at his wild locks but he just groans, his hands holding you tighter and, encouraged, you let your own hands run across his body, eliciting another loud groan from him. 

Tension is building between the two of you, he is growing hard against your belly, unmistakably turned on and doing nothing to hide it. You can feel heat radiating from your own core, so scorching he must feel it too through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. If this doesn’t stop soon he’ll have you bent over the workbench in a minute, and Health and Safety would definitely have something to say about that. 

With a groan and tremendous effort, you put your hands on his chest and push him away. His lips chase yours for a few seconds, eyes closed, a protest coming from him, before he looks down at you with a sigh. 

“You taste even better than you smell,” he says, not letting go of your cheek, his other hand still around your waist. 

“The cookie dough goes really well with the coffee,” you reply, your mouth quirking up in a smile and he matches it, a dopey look on his face. 

“Amazing,” he breathes, "you're amazing, baker girl.” 

His adoration makes you tremble, you feel the heat in your cheeks, and he sees it, leaning into your lips. He stops and looks at you for a beat, to ask for your permission, and when you don’t pull away he presses a soft kiss to your warm mouth, so different from the hasty, heated kiss you just shared. This one lasts only for a few seconds, gentle, before he pulls back, his hand slowly trailing along your check. 

“I should probably call for my ride,” he says softly, “it’ll take a while to get here.” 

“Ok,” you nod, “the shortbread should be done too.” 

“Ok,” he replies, but he doesn’t make a move to leave and you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. 

“I really should…” he sighs, tracing his fingertips over your cheek again, “call that ride.” 

“Go, do that, I’ll cut the shortbread, we can have some while we wait for your ride.” You lightly put your hand on his warm chest and push him away, smiling, but you really want to bunch your hand in the soft t-shirt and pull him closer. 

“Ok,” he says, louder this time, as if making up his mind. He shoves his hand in his pocket, miraculously finding his phone intact as you bring the tray out of the fridge. 

The whole thing has set into layers, so you take a sharp knife and start cutting rectangles, slipping them up and onto the tray that goes in your display case, some go into a take away box, two you put on a separate plate and then look around for Dieter, spotting his broad back out by the back door. Just as you come over to him he ends his call, turning around to you with a smile. 

“My ride will be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, following you to the doorstep and sitting down. You sink down next to him, maybe a little bit closer than necessary, but he’s wide and takes up almost the whole door frame. Your cookie dough is still waiting for you, you’ll be playing catch up with your baking for the rest of the morning, but it’ll be worth it. This chaotic, disheveled man has made your morning a lot more exciting than usual and you’re a little bit sad to see him go. 

“Here, what you came for,” you say, holding out the plate, and Dieter takes one of the Millionaire’s Shortbread. 

“I can’t believe you made these just for me,” he grins and bites into it. You watch his face, this is your favorite part of baking, watching people when they taste the finished thing. And Dieter doesn’t disappoint, he groans, loudly, grabbing onto your arm and leaning his forehead against your shoulder, his whole body reacting to the flavors in his mouth as he chews. 

“I Iive here now,” he moans, “I’m giving up my career, I’m going to live in your bakery and pay you to feed me for the rest of my life.” He lifts his head up and takes another big bite of the shortbread, groaning again as he looks at you, his eyebrows pulled together, big brown eyes pleading. “How is this so good?” he moans, his tongue coming out to catch an errant peanut crumb, “you’ve got to taste this.” 

He holds up the last bite of the shortbread to you, and you open your mouth, letting him place it between your lips. You feel his fingers brush over them as he pulls back, his thumb coming up to swipe over your bottom lip. 

“It’s really good, I’m pretty happy with this,” you say, trying to not chew with your mouth open as Dieter looks at you, his eyes on your lips.

“Do you want another one?” you ask, holding up the plate and Dieter nods fervently and groans again as he takes a bite. 

“I can’t decide, this or sex, which is better,” he chuckles, and you nod. You know the cake is good, but you can’t help but wonder if sex with Dieter might not be even better. 

You sit side by side in the early morning sunshine, eating the cakes. Dieter soon finishes his second one and cracks the lid on the take away box you’ve given him, sneaking a third one with a childish grin that makes you happy to see. 

“Seriously, I live here now, I’m moving in tomorrow,” he mumbles, moaning between bites, leaning on you, his head on your shoulder. 

“You do that Dieter, I might even let you lick the bowl once in a while,” you say, patting his messy hair. 

“Lick the bowl or lick your bowl, baker girl?” he giggles and you give him a light smack, shaking your head. 

“Enough with the porn jokes,” you scold him, no menace to your words, he can hear the smile in your voice and giggles again. 

“Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, “Nothing weird, I promise, I’m just really tired suddenly.” 

“Ok, sure, but your ride should be here soon.” 

“Yeah, I just wanna relax my eyes for a while….” Dieter yawns and slips down the stairs to sit on the last step, hooking his arm around your hips and putting his head on your lap. The warm weight of him on your legs is actually comforting, his arm a steady hold behind you. Without thinking about it you start carding your fingers through his hair, adding to the sticky mess, making it stand on end, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It takes him minutes to fall asleep, a low rumbling snore coming from him. 

You keep stroking his head for a few more minutes before you carefully lift his head up and slip out from under him, letting his arm be his pillow. You need to go back to baking, your first customers will be arriving soon and you haven’t even put the cookies in the oven, you want them fresh and warm when the early morning commuters arrive. 

Back in the kitchen you quickly scoop the rest of the dough on the trays and get them in the oven and start stocking the display case out front with what’s already done. You’re just sliding the last croissants into the tray when the opening hour strikes and you flip the sign on the front door. You’ve been listening out back for a car to pull up but you haven’t heard anything and once the morning rush starts, you’re swamped and a couple of hours pass before you even realize. When it finally calms down you wipe down the counter and clean your hands before checking out by the back door. It’s still open, but Dieter is gone, as is the take away box, not a trace of your chaotic, magnetic early morning visitor. 

Hours later, as you’re about to close up for the day, a delivery van pulls up in front of the shop. A man in a uniform jumps out and comes rushing in with a box and an extravagant bouquet of flowers with a vase.  “Delivery for you, miss,” he says, handing you a device to sign your name on, and then the flowers and the box. 

“Thanks,” you say but the man is already halfway out the door. 

The flowers fill the small shop with their scent, and you place them on the counter, next to the till, stopping to stick your nose into the white lilac and breathing deeply before getting the shop closed up.

You flip the sign and take the box into the kitchen, the back door is still open to let the warm spring air in. Sinking down on the stairs where you sat with Dieter just this morning, you open the box. It contains another box and inside that, a note. But there’s also a mouth watering, rich, smell of pastry and meat coming from the box. Intrigued, you open the lid, only to find a thermal container inside, like a small version of the ones used to keep delivery pizza warm. Inside are six fat, delicious looking sausages rolls. Your stomach gives a hungry grumble and you immediately grab one, laughing as you remember Dieter’s first request this morning; sausage rolls, like the ones he bought in England after party nights. 

The sausage roll really is as delicious as it looks and you grab a second one before you pick up the note that came with them. 

It's a double folded piece of paper, so thick it almost looks like part of a canvas. On the inside a note is scribbled in a looped, flowing handwriting. 

“Next time I’m asking you on a date, baker girl /D” 

Part Two

If you want to make Dieter's Millionaire's Shortbread, here's the recipe I used.

[weirdsht]

What es up 👾

What if totcf with transmigrated!reader that barely says anything about themselves but they know so much about the others, they think it's kinda unfair how easy they are to read to reader (reader has read the novel so they're like a piece of cake to reader) and then one time everyone was drinking, some were drunk, some were dead on the floor or couch, then reader says "I miss my husband..." With such a solemn expression and everyone is shocked because wdym u have a fockin husband????

Rosalyn: *sees reader crying their eyes out* you... You have a husband?

Reader: yes, Rosa sob I miss him, my kids, too!

The gang: Kid? Wait, kids? Plural...? How come we never knew of this????????????

Reader was actually referring to their fictional boyfriend and characters they grew to love that they knew about from Earth, but reader is like, crying like it's the saddest thing as if their spouse went to war

…Seriously? - LoTCF & Reader

a/n: a/n: not me sneaking my lads obsession in here, also I had to choose 1 LI so the gig isn't out of the bag so soon but I don't have a bias there... so i used the usual roulette lol, find out who won as you read the story

tags: earth timeline doesn't make sense. transmigrator reader, love and deepspace mentions, platonic, fluss

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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[Name] was an enigma to Cale’s group. They know that she’s not from their world. Know that she can predict the future to a certain extent. However, beyond that information, they don’t know much about the transmigrator. 

They barely know anything personal about [Name].

Which is a bit unfair if one thinks about it deeply. [Name] knows everyone like the back of her hand, but they don’t even know if the name she has given her is her real one.

But it doesn’t matter much. Cale’s group is not one to pry information that could possibly be sensitive out of a comrade. They all have their secrets after all, maybe [Name] was uncomfortable talking about her previous life.

Well, that was until Rosalyn saw her crying one day.

It was a normal day, a good one even. For the first time in a while, there’s absolutely nothing to do. Even Rosalyn’s research has been put on hold. And so she decided to find [Name] so they could try to newly opened cafe in town, and have a girl’s day.

“[Name] are you busy–”

The mage stopped in her tracks as she heard the transmigrator sob from the other side of the door. [Name]’s cries were quiet but it caused a loud concern to ring in Rosalyn’s heart.

“Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

Rosalyn opened the door, panic spread through her body as [Name] is known to never cry.

“Ro-rosa..?”

[Name] looked up as the door opened. Her knees touched her chest, her head resting on top of it. Tear stains could be seen on her clothes, it looked like she had been crying for a while now.

“I’m fine, don’t worry nothing happened.”

She reassured Rosalyn as she wiped her eyes with her sleeves. Her voice was wobbly, not helping her case and certainly not making the ex-royal believe her.

Rosalyn took [Name]’s hands on her left hand and wiped the transmigrator’s tears with the handkerchief she bought with her right hand. Concern is etched on her face as she gives [Name]’s hands comforting strokes.

“Tell this unnie what’s wrong.”

Both have forgotten about the door being wide open. Making everyone, the three kids and Lock, hear everything they are talking about.

“It’s a silly thing… I just realized it’s been so long since I saw my husband…”

Rosalyn fought the urge to overreact at the news that one of her friends had a husband she didn’t know about.

“From your previous world?”

“...Yeah, it’s been so long since I saw him. It doesn’t help that when I last saw him it looked like he was going on a very dangerous mission.”

[Name] was crestfallen as she spoke. It was clear just how much she missed him.

“My children too, I only saw my twins for a short while!”

The whiplash Rosalyn is getting from these shocking pieces of information is too much.

Good thing another redhead arrived to save the day.

“Why are you four hiding over there?”

Cale asked the four children and only then did the two women realise how the door was open. Rosalyn shot [Name] an apologetic look. She didn’t mean for her personal life to be broadcasted like that.

“No need to be sorry, it wasn’t really a secret. There wasn’t just a chance to bring it up.”

[Name] assured the mage as she gestured over to the five outside her door. Beckoning them to go inside.

As Cale and the children walked towards the transmigrator, they updated Cale as to what they heard.

“So you had a husband before coming here?”

“Yes, my husband Sylus… I didn’t even get his limited card before I could… huek!”

The transmigrator teared up once more and every one pitied her despite their confusion. Just what card is she talking about? Maybe it’s an earth thing they don’t know about.

“[Name]-nim are you talking about a credit card?”

Choi Han peeked from outside. He was just passing by when he heard the children updating Cae about his fellow transmigrator’s life.

“Huh? Oh no, I mean he did have a black card but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Now Choi Han was part of the confused crowd. If she didn’t mean a savings card what could she be talking about then?

Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Cale squinted his eyes. That man knows for a fact that [Name] hasn’t even had her first kiss yet. What are all these lies about a husband? 

…Plus the name she said sounded very familiar.

“Could you tell us more about him?”

“Yeah tell us please nya!”

Raon and Hong encouraged [Name] to talk more, interested in the slightest information about their mysterious friend’s personal life.

“Well, his very tall. Around 187cm I think? He kind of looks like a vampire with his white hair and red eyes. I can confidently say that his one of the most handsome guys out there.”

Everyone became even more intrigued. Just how great was this husband of hers? [Name] sounded very in love with him. He also sounded well-off based on Choi Han’s explanation of how a black card is like the equivalent of a golden plaque.

“Oh, he also has this thing called Evol. Basically he has powers, his power in particular is controlling energy. His super strong, he can even heal wounds.”

From the corner of the room, Cale suppressed a sigh as he placed the pieces together. Instead, he opted to silently facepalm.

The conversation about [Name]’s supposed “husband” lasted for a few more minutes before everyone filed out of her room. Leaving only her and Cale behind.

“What was your affinity level before you got here?”

“Affinity 60… But omg, you play love and deespace too!?”

[Name] looked at the redhead man who was finally letting out that deep, imparted sigh he had been holding in since earlier.

“No, I just saw forum leaks about your husband Sylus.”

“Ohhhh, I was wondering how you knew when he was barely out when I transmigrated…”

An awkward silence lingered around the two. Both of them don’t know how to proceed with the new information. In fact, [Name] didn’t know that game existed on Cale’s earth.

Wait was it possible that they were from the same earth?

But he had powers…

[Name] decided to not think about it.

“Next time, refrain from speaking about your fictional husbands as if they’re real… I think you nearly gave Rosalyn a heart attack?”

“Wait really!?”

[Name] looked at Cale who was on his way to go back to his room. She didn’t know the repercussions of casually speaking about her otome game. The redhead only looked at her as if she was a lost cause. 

“Yes, really.“

incase you were curious about the roulette lol dont mind me using the jp names im just more used to that

[realisticfanfictions]

Hi! Can I as for headcanons just like the "being their Gf" from Sanji but with zoro? I would love that😁💖

Ahhh! I didn't realise this was a feature! Sorry about that, I hope this makes up for it! <3 (Not edited or beta-read.)

♥ 𝘽𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙂𝙁: 𝙕𝙤𝙧𝙤 ♥

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘔𝘦𝘵:

It's your typical love story, except with swords, and blood, and screaming. Lots of screaming.

You were just an average girl with an unhealthy obsession with starting fights you had no real chance of winning. Though, it wasn't your fault when no-good crooks hit on you or touched you whenever you walked by. In fact, you'd actually earned a nickname; "The Red Ogre."

It was the festival of the Lunar Eclipse, and people from all around had come just for this one spectacular occasion. From wealthy tourists to mountain bandits, the streets were packed like dried sardines in a cat's mouth. You didn't know where this expression came from, but it suited the moment rather well.

You'd just finished bottling up the last of the sake and were bringing it over to the market stall you shared with the local soba man, when you felt something brush your ass. Yeah, no. That wasn't happening.

With practiced precision, you whipped around and felt all of your energy rush to your fist, connecting it with the asshole's jaw and sending him flying into a pile of watermelons.

Everyone could hear you screaming profanities and death threats against the pile of human trash, grabbing him by the collar and repeatedly driving your fist into his face again, and again, and again.

Once his face resembled a tumor (not that it didn't already) and you were satisfied with permanently altering his face shape, you stepped back and spat on the ground next to him, blood running down your fist.

You heard a whistle. "Hate to be on the receiving end." When you turned around, you were met with a man with three swords strapped to his waist slowly walking towards you. His eyes were on the carnage that lay on the ground beneath you, but your own were fixed on his unusually coloured hair.

Before you could say anything, you felt the man grab onto your leg and you prepared yourself for another onslaught, but you didn't need to. The hand that had wrapped itself around your ankle suddenly went limp as the swordsman effortlessly disconnected it from the man's body.

That's where the screaming came in, but without sparing a second thought he simply hoisted the man over his shoulder and, while taking a bottle of your sake, flashed you a smirk. "Thanks for the free bounty."

That's when you decided you wanted to become a bounty hunter.

𝘒𝘦𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 1#:

You didn't see the mysterious swordsman after that, he disappeared in the midst of the festival and seemingly also disappeared from your life.

A few months went by and you'd already collected a few high profile bounties. Ever heard of "Six-Finger Trigger"? Well, you certainly never would again. With a comfortable 3 million berries almost always in your pocket, you slowly became well known in the East Blue as a fierce fighter.

Just like a crappy romance novel, you were hunting down some loser with a 7 million berry bounty on his head (well, you're sure a novel like that existed somewhere) when you bumped into a familiar face. The swordsman stepped out of the bar and immediately locked eyes onto you as if he could sense you watching him. A smirk stretched across his face. "The Red Ogre," He called out as he warily approached. "Never thought I'd see you again."

You snarkily replied that you didn't think he'd bother with a bounty this low, and the man scoffed. "I was in the area." He coolly responded and before you both could react, you were surrounded.

The look you shared spoke more than words ever could. In a split second, you went from cracking your knuckles to cracking the closest pirate's skull wide open. You both were brutal in your assault, but with him it was like watching a ribbon dancer gracefully gliding along the stage with each slash and dismemberment his swords wickedly inflicted.

By the time it was over, you both were panting and sweating over the bodies of about 30 men who'd either had their skulls bashed in, or their bodies almost cut clean in half. You huffed and cracked your neck, commenting how you clearly had more victims than him. He scoffed and pulled the sword out of his mouth, sheathing it. "Don't be ridiculous," He sheathed the other two and then pointed to the bodies. "There's more blood than teeth."

You replied that by punching out teeth, you added to the blood but he just shook his head in mild disbelief. "You're just jealous I won a competition I didn't even know we were having." He thought for a moment, then flicked his head toward the bar he had left only a few minutes ago. "How about another friendly competition?"

The competition ended in a tie when the bar ran out of liquor, but sometime during the night when he'd downed his 33rd glass of tap beer, you told him your name. He placed down his mug, looked over at you and smiled. "Zoro." He simply said and called for another round.

𝘒𝘦𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 2#:

It was only natural that you two became a hunting duo after that. It was big news in the bounty hunting world that the two most prevalent names in the East Blue teamed up, especially because you were also the most brutal. The Red Ogre and the Demon of the East Blue (your name was obviously better) were as feared as the bounties you hunted, and no one was safe when you had them in your sights.

But what they didn't see were the times like now, where even walking in a straight line with Zoro felt like traveling between realms and ending up in a completely different place than where you intended to go.

You rolled your eyes when you past by the same graffiti-covered rock for the fourth time and asked if he had any idea where you both were going. "The barkeep said he was just down the road in the casino." Your eyes widened, that was three hours ago!!

You smacked his arm. How the hell did you get from "go down the block to the casino" to being in the middle of the goddamn jungle?! He held your hands and slowly leaned in, his eyes steeled as always. "Don't be ridiculous." He slowly looked around, then squinted his eyes. "The trees moved."

Before you could continue your assault, a twig snapped and you both were suddenly back to back, ready for anything. Out of the shadows, a gorilla poked his head out and grunted at the two of you. You smirked and commented that you didn't know Zoro had a brother. "You wish I had a brother," He replied and turned his head so he could smirk at you. "Then maybe you would finally get laid and stop being such a bitch."

Trust me, you told him, between the two of you he was the bitch. "Oh really?" Yes, only a bitch would need to hide behind swords, instead of using his fists. Something flashed in his eyes. "Bet on it?" Of course you did.

After lending you his two swords (he wouldn't let the white one out of his sight), you both ended up not only finding your bounty, but you also managed to destroy half the island while getting used to your new weapons. You won, but comprised and called it a tie.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵:

It took quite a while for the both of you to realise you had feelings for each other. In fact, it wasn't until Zoro had up and joined Luffy that you felt... lost without him.

It's weird when you've spent so much of your life with someone and they suddenly stop being there. Hell, you'd even crashed in the same bed more often than not just cause it'd save you some coin. It was just... weird without him there.

You wouldn't see him again until you just so happened to be at the Baratie when he dueled Mihawk. It was practically a slaughter, and it hurt seeing someone you'd grown to care for fall to the ground - sliced practically in half.

You helped the rest of the crew get him onboard and asked Luffy, the weird, rubber man Zoro dedicated his life to, if you could stay with them until the swordsman was healed. Luffy, of course, agreed and you stayed by your partner's side until he woke up a short time later.

It was almost midnight when he groaned and shuffled in his sleep, slowly opening his eye and sighing when he caught sight of you. "Thought I'd finally gotten rid of you." Not caring if he was hurt, you smacked his arm and told him you thought he had died. He scoffed and groaned. "I wouldn't die like that, shithead."

You called him the shithead and tried to hit him again, but he caught your wrist. This wasn't like the other times he's done this, however. His grip slowly lessened and his hand slowly ran up your skin until his fingers intertwined with yours. He brought your combined hands up to his cheek and placed your palm against his skin.

His eyes flicked closed for a second and he seemed to just breathe for a moment, like he was savouring your touch. Those steely greys met your eyes once more and a slow sigh escaped him. "You better not leave me again." He mumbled against your skin and placed a kiss to the inside of your palm.

A smirk crossed your lips, bet on it?

His own smirk crossed his features, the one that you'd grown to both love and hate and the one that made your heart flutter. "Of course."

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Howdy! I was wondering what the twst guys would do if apocalypse mc came to twisted wonderland with a rifle and handgun? Like rook learning they can be used for hunting or lilias reaction to the weapons of war from their world

You don’t have to write this! I’ve just been brainrotting about this 😮‍💨

Anyway thanks for your time!💕💕

I really need to add a character limit to this.

I'm doing one from the first 5 dorms and if you want more characters I'll get to them once requested open again.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuu pronouns are he/him

Characters: Ace (technicallyduece too ig), ruggie, jade, kalim, and rook

Warnings: Dueces slight suicidal ideation, ruggies lowkey nihilism, you kill a monster in Jades part, slight body horror in Kalims part, not proof read

________________________________

Ace:

Ace was pissed. Why? Because he was fucking stupid.

He was stupid. Duece was stupid. And that weird kids with the weird mask and the fucking fire monster was fucking stupid.

Because someone thought it would be a great idea to run away from their clean up duty (Grim (ace quietly chose to ignore that he had tried to do the same thing first)) by hiding in a chandelier was a good idea, and someone else thought hurling him into said chandelier with questionable at best magic was an even better idea.

So now ace trappola was running for his life in a crystal mine, with only the same people who got him into this situation in the first place here with him.

These feelings only seemed to be amplified after duece decided that the crystals were worth more than his life! Also it didn't exactly help that he had seen the magicless guy almost get impaled with one of the oversized pickaxes that...that thing was swinging around.

"My....m.y..Give me back..my. STONES"

The adrenaline rushed through aces body like a wave, it's only purpose being to make sure he survives dammit! He doesn't even care if he gets expelled anymore. His brother has told him enough stories about NRC to write a novel. Ace had come here with a picture already painted in his head and this was not it.

He made a sharp turn left. They had walked down this tunnel on their way in right?

He saw a little light poke out just around the next turn.

Yeah, they had come through this way.

Ace heard a small yelp and the sound of dirt being scattered and a small thud of someone hitting the ground.

He didn't look back. He just kept running.

He kept running until he came across the small cottage that they'd gone into earlier. Duece stumbled in right after him. The masked boy and the fire cat-weasle thing on his shoulders.

The guy was covered in dirt. He's probably the one that fell.

Ace was bent over, panting like he had just ran for his life, probably because he did, but he's pretty sure he heard duece half gently set the kid, whose name he still didn't really know, down before he joined ace in his desperate attempt to catch his breath.

Ace closed his eyes. What the hell is happening right now? Why was he here? Why did he have to go tease that weird magicless freak this morning and pick a fight with their freaky cat?

You know what? Fuck this. If he gets expelled, so be it. There are plenty of other magic schools, including ones closer to home. He'll be just fine.

Duece however, didn't seem to get the memo.

"It was right there...we have to go back!", duece had so much determination in his voice...

Ace felt his eye twitch. "Like hell we do!"

Duece snapped his head towards him, and the mystery bro was still sitting on the floor, now cradling grim like he was an actual cat.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, but that crystal ain't worth it"

"So...so you're just gonna take the expulsion lying down? Just like that!? What are you, some kind of coward!?", duces voice got progressively more angry, which ace thought was bullshit.

He thought he was being perfectly reasonable with his choices, thank you very much.

"Uhhh. Yeah! Sorry not sorry, I choose life!"

I mean sure, his brother is gonna look at him all disappointed and shit, but hey, at least he'd be alive to see it.

Ace looked back at Mr. Mask-Man, who was still quietly petting grim, acting like they weren't even there.

It kind of pissed him off a little.

"Hey", he looked up, Ace count see their eyes, but somehow he knew they weren't making eye contact "do you have any better ideas? Or are you just gonna sit there the while time and not do anything?"

Was he being unfair? Probably. This guy (he should really ask for his name) wasn't even supposed the be in night Raven college, not to mention here? And he probably didn't want to be here any more than he did.

Did he care about that though? No. Not right now anyway.

Ace expected him to just put his head back down and go back to petting his freaky weasel. He expected them to just shrink up on themselves while ace went back to yelling at duece.

He did expect the guys head to perk up the smallest bit, he didn't expect the sudden feeling of very intense eye contact either.

And he definitely didn't expect him the nod and stand up so fast ace almost stumbled back.

But you know what the absolute last thing he expected from this guy? Going back to the mines.

Going back to the mines and waiting with duece for grim and the masked guy to come hauling ass back up the hill with the ...inky monster in tow. Because that's what's going to happen. Apparently.

...fuck. This guy was some type of maniac wasn't he?

Ace just glared at the ground. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, but he was still gonna be pissed if he died with a possible psychopath currently running towards him, and this blue gumball son of a bitch standing next to him.

"Bring me....my...stooones!"

He took a deep breath, possibly one of his lasts.

But I mean hey, might as well go out with a bang right?

The next few minutes all seemed to happen in slow motion, and somehow ace could already see the moment when the reality of all this would all hit him. At 3 am or something like that. Probably.

...yeah. 3 am.

"Ace watch out!", a panicked, exhausted voice called out to him. Probably duece.

His head snapped over to where his dormmate was. What's happening?

The answer seemed pretty damn obvious, when a large shadow seemed to swallow him whole, a product of the monsters looming stature.

Ace froze. Seeing his life start to flash before his eyes. Memory after memory replaying in his mind.

You never really know how little you've lived until you see it all right in front of you...

BAM.

Aces eyes shot open (when had he closed them?) To see Mr. Mask standing just roughly six meters away from him, holding a...

...uh....what the hell was that?

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The loud noises rang out one by one. One right after the other.

Ace booked it to the side, trying to catch his breath.

Only for it to get caught again once he looked up.

The creatures head, the glass ink jar, was leaking. It had six small holes in it, and cracks spiderwebbing out from said holes. As the cracks grew larger, the glass began to break off, and more and more ink began to pour out.

"Duece!"

Aces eyes snapped to their third member, who responded immediately with another cauldron.

The head finally shattered. And the monster disappeared.

Slowly, aces gaze fell on the Ramshakle resident once again. Blinking slowly as he watched the guy put the...loud..thing away, before picking up grim once again.

Ace opened his mouth, and before he could even begin to realize what he was doing, he asked, "what was that?"

You called it a gun.

Ruggie:

Listen. Ruggie wasn't new to violence. You can't live in the slums all your life and make it out completely sheltered, no matter how hard your parents try.

And sure. Ruggie wasn't exactly a saint himself, But at this point, was anyone? He certainly didn't think so.

Yeah. Almost getting killed by leona fucked him up a little. But really, it wasn't that new when he really thought about it.

And yeah, leona never really apologized to him for all that, but at times like that, in an environment like savanaclaw? He didn't need to. His actions, no matter how small they were, still spoke for themselves.

So yeah. Ruggie bucchi has a lot of experience with violence.

But if you were to ask ruggie if he's ever seen anything like this before? Yeah. He'd have to answer no.

Everything was going shit. They were following the plan, he did his part flawlessly might he add, and then Azul decided he didn't want to follow the script. So now he was surround by black ink, panicking students, and slightly less panicking... allies? Allies.

But yeah. This sucked.

And so began the fight for his life once again. Honestly, this shit was getting old.

Whipping his head in every which way to look or for flying debris and tentacles (and wasn't that a sentence), and keeping his ears open for shouted commands and warnings, his attention landed on you for half a second, before quickly turning away; In that half second he saw you pull something out from jacket pocket.

About five seconds later, he heard a loud bang.

And not like when the construction workers accidentally drop a metal beam on concrete or something. No, this was just a loud, earth shattering bang that demanded attention. And attention it got.

Several heads snapped to you, holding a...uhhh. You tilted your head to the side, either in confusion or trying to get an angle on Azul.

BANG BANG

And then there was a scream, distorted and pained, with a faint sound of gushing and sloshing, a liquid being spilled. Ink being spilled out of the overblot phantoms head.

"Huh...the other one just died immediately..", he heard you mutter.

Ruggie shot a pointed look over to leona, who just looked at him in confusion. Ok. So he didn't miss anything during his housewardens little episode. He took a quick glance at the heartslabyul duo, who looked like they understood. Well, Ace understood. Duece wasn't close enough to hear and didn't have the hearing to pick up the slack.

Ok. So maybe yuu also decided to whip the thing out when riddle when crazy? He'll ask around later. Probably.

A tentacle slammed right next to him and started writhing around with another loud scream as the phantom lost more and more ink, and Ruggie remembered where they were.

The damage you did the overbloted octopus wasn't enough to downright defeat him, but it was enough to at least make the rest of the way a hell of a lot easier. So they're odds were looking much better than they were. Small mercies.

When everything eventually came to a head and the ink was beginning to melt off of Azul and he could finally breathe, he let his mind drift back to you.

Ok. What the hell. What was that? Why did it make that noise? What did it even do? How'd it shatter thick ass, magic glass? Did it launch blades at it or something? Also, why are you pretending like this whole thing was completely normal?

You weren't freaking out about this, you honestly seemed more focused on combing the gunk out of Azuls hair with your gloved fingers while the twins tried to asses his mental state, grim flopping on the ground off to your side. Now, this is probably your third, or maybe even fourth time you've been in this situation. But perfect, you treating it like it's just another Tuesday isn't exactly. Uh. Normal?

Not that you were normal, you had just began taking regular baths, which he was immensely grateful for. Seriously, he could only hold back leonas hair as he puked so many times before it got old. But even your (lack of) personality raised a few questions. Sometimes he wondered if you where really even there half the time.

After he caught his breath, he began to walk over to where you were, Ace and duece now scolding you and jade trying to check if you were hurt or not, and holy shit that is a big ass gash.

But he was already standing right behind you, so he honestly might as well ask.

"Hey. So uh. What did you do? What made the bangs?"

Your head snapped in his direction, pausing to just stare at him for a few unnerving seconds.

And then you pulled something out and called it a gun.

Jade:

Jade didn't really question why you wanted to join his club, he was just glad someone did. Even if that someone was a fucking weirdo like yourself.

Listen, jade wasn't picky when it came to his clubmembers ok?

Plus, aside from a few conversations about a bird or plant species you liked, and many more questions about basic things that you had apparently never seen before, and him acting like he knew any better than you about it, things went smoothly.

He collected his mushrooms and occasionally stopped to do a fieldsketch and you rolled around in moss and somehow became an instant bird whisperer. It was a good system.

About as good as it could be while you were running from a big ass monster.

Ok. Listen. He knew that there were monsters on this particular mountain, and he knew that some of them were man eaters. But dammit he did the research before hand! He made sure the two of you avoided their natural habitats at all cost! But apparently, this particular one could smell human blood much better than the rest, and apparently, you thought it was a good idea to not tell him you had cut yourself on a rock and were now bleeding.

"There's a cave right there!", he saw you point to an opening in a rock wall that was most definitely the small least cave he'd ever seen "do you think we could hide in it for a minute"

"I don't know!", you didn't really have any other options, running forever until you reached the place where the mirror had dropped you both off was more than inconvenient, especially on a mountain that had more steep cliffs than average. So he quickly signaled to you and began running towards it, awkwardly running into the small hole and barely seeing you baseball slide your way into there with much more ease.

Desperately trying to catch his breath, he started to plan. You only had a few minutes at best before the monster caught up to you, so the best thing they could do with the time they had was treat your wound to the best of his ability, and hope that the smell of blood would gradually fade and the beast would be thrown off your trails.

Click

He looked to you, hunched over and sill slightly panting as you loaded small, but long pointed metal cylinders into...something?

You had stopped wearing the mask, being one of the few people you trusted enough to see your face, which was sweet if he thought about, you were even getting better to look at! Looking a lot less like you had come back from the dead after the apocalypse and more like a recovering drug addict, but hey! Progress!

But he point is, he could see your face, and the look on your eyes, and...

Ah shit.

Perfect. Listen perfect, he knows you're batshit crazy, he is too, but please, you're going to get them killed. Even with your insane amount of luck, your half baked plans only work most of the time so for the love of the sea witch please just-

"I have an idea"

...Dammit.

So that's how you both got here, kneeling just barely out of the cave opening, and him standing on the Rocky formation right above you outside the cave. Waiting for the monster, and possi ly for death. If he survives this the first things he'd doing when he gets back to his dorm room is write his will so that he can make sure his precious mushrooms aren't thrown away by his brother. Would riddle accept them?

"Jade!"

He blinked, got his magic pen ready, and you cocked your gun. Staring at the place where the sound of heavy footsteps and snarls were coming from.

You both waited with baited breath as themonsters form came running up the steep hill and charged towards the two of you.

The sensation of water and earth magics filled the air as spell after spell was released, hitting the creature a good majority of the time. Meanwhile, you were shifting slightly, getting into a position that didn't look the most comfortable, but apparently it worked for you because you quickly gave him a small warning shout.

Jade covered his ears. You had warned him about the sound guns make, and how many people went deaf fro them due to lack of proper equipment and training, you sounded like you were repeating a quote that was all but drilled into you, a saying that everyone knows but never really says out loud. Did he belive you were exaggerating? Slightly.

That went away when he heard the loud boom though, even through his covered ears. Jade grew slightly concerned at the fact that you didnt seem to be too affected by all this.

You didn't seem too surprised at the loud noise. Just angling and adjusting the gun position until you could hit your target more accurately as it moved.

He heard ten shots go off. Out of those ten, at least seven actually hit. The monster, being as huge as it was, was about to ignore the first three. The rest, however, were clearly starting to take a toll on the thing.

He saw you pull the trigger a few more times, nothing more than assumed clicks coming out. Jade couldn't be too sure, as the pained roars of the monster completely drowned out the sound. Wordlessly, he got took his hands away from his ears and readied his magic. Letting it burst all around him and borage the monster as soon as your hand shot up into the air. The signal that you needed to reload and he had to momentarily take over.

The whole event took about fifteen minutes that felt like they were stretched into hours. Ending with him feeling a bit lightheaded, and you firing three extra shots into what he was pretty sure was a monstrous corpse. "Just in case".

Wanting to sit down and take a moment to collect himself was only just outweighed by the urge to make sure you were alright. So, jade jumped down from his little rock podium; he reached the ground just as you completely crawled out of the cave entrance.

Gently, he asked, "are you alright perfect?". A perfectly appropriate question to ask after...that.

To which you, in reply, completely flop down on the rough ground and let out a loud groan, both of you pretending that there wasn't a dead, three-metter tall monster right next to you.

An equally appropriate response.

"Four magazines jade! Four! I'm going to have to make soany bullets now!", jade only nodded, like how you do when he starts ranting about his beloved mushrooms.

Oh well, he'd understand soon enough. He has plenty of questions regarding you and you gun for the walk back to the mirror location.

Kalim:

Kalim felt like was caving in on him.

This was all happening so fast, way too fast. The one person that he thought he could trust whole heartedly, the boy he saw as nothing less than a brother, had done all this.

It was a lot to take in. Everything from his supposed verdict of keeping his dorm members in school, to yuu and grims vague comments, comments that he now recognizes for the warnings they were, to the guys from octavinnle, jamil overblotting, getting flung to the dessert, and now to be back here? Fighting for not only his, but his best friends (were they though?) Life?

Kalim just wanted to cry. The drop the the floor and cry. But he'd already done that and there was no time to do it again now. Not when he could see the ink and the snakes sucking out more and more of jamils life, when he could see jamils body begin the break down and contort in ways that shouldn't be possible. Not when his eyes grew more deranged with every second.

No, Kailm couldn't cry now. Not when Jamil was dying.

Magic attacks meeting the emotions of dread and rage that jamil had kept professionally buried only served made the air more tense. Yuu occasionally shouted directions from he sidelines, directions to use fire magic instead of water, or to dodge an incoming attack that very well could have killed him if it made contact.

And that just raises the question. Did jamil..? Was it his intention to kill him? Was that his goal the entire time?

....No. No, if Jamil wanted Kailm dead, then Kailm would be dead. He didn't want Kailm gone he just wanted him to go away. And for that reason, Kailm had the hope that he needed that he could fix this. And by the seven he'll cling to it for as long as he lives if that's what it takes.

"Perfect!", Jades sharp voice took Kailm right out of his thoughts.

"Yeah? Kailm move to the right!", he moved to the right, just in time for a borage of ink and thron covered vines to come crashing into the exact spot he was standing not even five seconds prior. The vines writhing around like they were alive, and he could see the sharp, jagged edges of its thorns cut into its self with the ease of cutting through soft butter. Not that he would know. "What do you need?"

"Do you have your gun?", Jade svoice was deathly calm, which was a bit jarring all things considered.

He didn't know what a "gun" was, but he guesses floyd knew, because he groaned louder than some of his youngest siblings when they had to get up early.

From out the corner of his eye, he saw you stop for a few seconds. Then you answered.

"Yeah", something in your voice that he couldn't quite read. "Yeah, but I only have like five shots"

Both jade and azul looked less than pleased with that, and Kailm still didn't know what was going on, so he just threw more fire at his friend.

"Well then. You better make them count", azuls matter of fact voice rang out.

He didn't see if you nodded or not. And for the next minute, he didn't hear you at all. There were no more instructions being shouted or anything like that. Just the continued onslaught of four peoples magic, all trying desperately to snap Jamil out of his current state. Who was being bent into more and more inhuman shapes as the seconds passed.

His jaw was opening a little too wide as he laughed, his fingers seemed to be getting longer and more claw like, and his voice was so now so distorted that he could barely even understand what he was saying.

But what freaked him out the most what the loud cracking and crunches of bones breaking. Jamils spine now seemed too long, bent in an unnatural way, accompanied by a crack everytime he moved. He only laughed.

Kalim didn't laugh. There was ink running down his body, all from where he had been contorted. And as time crawled on, his eyes grew more and more crazed, and his distorted laughs turned more like screams.

Kalim wasn't the best at magic, he had never been the best at magic, he knew that, even before now. So when he felt himself become light headed as his energy and magic supply ran low, he started to panic.

Oh no. Oh sevens, oh no. Please no. Not now. Anytime but now. He couldn't lose now. What would happen to jamil? How would he get Jamil home after this?

How was he supposed to tell Jamils family that their son and brother was dead?

BANG

A distorted scream ran out as floyd began to cheer, and his stomach dropped.

BANG BANG BANG

More screams. Blood curdling screams that froze Kalim where he stood. Watching jamils face begin the crack, ink pouring through the cracks on his face like blood as his eyes rolled back and his entire expression turned to one of pain. A perfect mirror to the shattering phantom that loomed behind him.

"I have one shot left and I am not wasting it! Aim for the cracks! Use fire! It'll weaken the glass!", your voice rang out, carrying a determination with it, but also the reality that they were in no way out of the woods yet.

"You mean the magic glass?", azul was skeptical

"Its magic fire", Kailm could hear the shrug in your voice.

Kalim is ashamed to admit it. But he wasn't much help after this. Jamils vpice had random breaks from the distortion. So he had a perfect audio of jamil screaming his vocal cords raw in his actual voice. Something that would haunt him until the day he died.

Ink was still pouring out from his wounds. Bones were still breaking. And it almost looked like Jamils body was melting off of him in a grotesque manner.

Kalim closed his eyes and prayed.

Eventual, the distortion completely went away, so the screams and the sobs seemed less monstrous and more tortured. Jamils attacks completely stopped as well.

And with one final bang, so did yours.

When Kalim opened his eyes again, I was only after jade prayed his hands off his ears, something he doesn't even remember doing.

Azul and yuu were standing over jamils blood covered body, and for a second, he feared the worst.

It was only after you kneeled to check if he was still alive, and he saw Jamil moving did he allow himself to breathe, and to finally cry.

Through blurred vision, he saw you put the gun away. He never asked what it was. He didn't need to know. You saved Jamils life with it, and that was good enough for him.

Rook:

Rook enjoyed beanfeast. Honestly, he could say it was one of his favorite days of the year. What other time? What other opportunities would he get but this? To hunt his fellow classmates for sport like this? To see their determination wither away as they accepted their fates as his prey!

Now, normally rook would go solo on this. Others found it a bit hard to keep up with him until now. Until yuu.

Ah his dear little trickster and his admirable kill or be killed mentality that he had taken up as of late! My, when rook had looked into his eyes, he saw nothing less than the eyes of a killer! A tiger on the hunt!

Or perhaps, he mused, a lion. Because there, right underneath them, was leona kingscholar himself.

Yuu has proposed they move from above, to stay in the wooded area and maintain the high grounds. Yuu had made his way up a tree with the swiftness and elegance of a bird taking flight! Walking steadily along the branches like he was simply made for it.

Together, the two of you had taken out quite a few farmers. With rook silently stalking them and you communicating your predictions with hand signals that he could understand blind. Those predictions of what the farmers would do, or even who would be in the area were proven true to an uncanny extent.

Rook wanted to know how, but that conversation could be saved for a different day.

Rook could barely see you chest rising up and down as you breathed so slowly you might as well haven't have been. He himself was holding his breath as you both angled your bean blasters. The slightest noise could tip the beastman off, after all.

You had temporarily split off to different trees, him being about a dozen meters away from you, just to the left of Leona, while we're were to the right.

He saw you hand slowly raise up, carefully avoiding the rustling leaves as you gave another hand signal. Thos one being significantly more simple than the majority. Just three fingers raised to indicate three seconds. Three seconds and you both shoot. You closed you hand, starting the timer.

Three.

The two of you, perfectly in sync, found your final aims of the beastman.

Two.

You carefully placed your fingers on the trigger. Taking caution not to shoot too early. The last thing would want to do was ruin this seemingly special moment for the two of you.

The wind blew in you direction. Thre leaves began to rustle, and leonas head shot in your direction.

Three.

You both pulled your triggered in perfect harmony, and, like a beautiful dance coming to an end, the mighty lion had fallen. And you both ran across the tree branches, making your ways to eachother as soon as possible.

The happy, adrenaline filled giggle you let out when he finally found found you again was nothing less than precious. Not to mention it fit the moment. Oh how he wishes you would stop trying to compose yourself all the time! The world deserves to see your joy!

He let out a laugh of his own, being rewarded with a smile that you couldn't help. This imagine of you in perfect juxtaposition with how you looked upon first arrival to this world.

And, if he may, rook would like to say that your face was shaping up to be something he wouldn't mind staring at. Ah, recovery was a marvelous thing indeed! He couldn't wait to see your progress by the end if the year.

When the laughter subsided, you took you hand and laid a gentle kiss to the back of your fingers, as a small congregation and a job well done.

"Yes, very nice monsieur. That was very nice indeed", his soft voice suddenly taking on a more mischievous note to it, a not that you matched with those shinning eyes of yours. "Now, I belive we have more game to secure, yes? Let us be off, my dear trickster"

You smiled, the corners of your mouth moving into a smirk. Your eyes, however, he'll the glee of a giddy boy, finally getting to experience something he was robbed of long ago. Rook only hoped that much later in your life, when you think of how many shots you've ever fired, this day will be included.

So smile, dear trickster, that all he asks. That's all you deserve.

________________________________

YALL I AM SO SORRY."I'm working on requests" fucks off your 5 more months omg what am I on. Eat your food, yall gotta be starving rn shit I am a terrible father.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Inspiration

Summary: You're a famous romance novel author. Your boyfriend is more than willing to help you get over your writers block.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, established relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, lots of teasing, hair pulling, romance novels.

A/N: You can blame thank @moonlightwarriorqueen for this one. Been thinking about it all day since that ask and I had to write it.

MASTERLIST

You let out a heavy sigh once more, rubbing your eyes. 

“Everything alright?” Hunter asks, stepping into your shared bedroom. 

You let out another sigh, before nodding. “Yeah. Just...can’t quite get this scene right.” 

He hums thoughtfully, crawling onto the end of the bed. “What’s happening in the scene?” 

“Well, the love interest currently has his hand up the protagonists’ skirt in the middle of the kitchen.” You turn to look at him as he stretches out on the bed next to you. “I just don’t know what direction to go from here.” 

“Well, I think they’d both like to cum.” He says, deadpan. 

You slap his chest playfully, rolling your eyes. “Well of course that’s the goal. It’s just how they’re going to reach that goal that I’m unsure about.”

You had been embarrassed at first, when he’d asked what you did for a living. 

You usually were when people asked, either lying or skirting around the truth. It wasn’t shame that brought these feelings forward when you were asked by any means. No, you love what you do. It was more...loathing for the inevitable awkward conversation that followed. 

You had been honest with Hunter, mostly because you knew just by looking at him he wasn’t really going to know what you were talking about. 

Hunter didn’t exactly strike you as being a romance novel reader. 

That’s what you do. You’re one of the galaxy’s most famous romance novel authors. You write under a penname, of course, so no one knows who you actually are. You rarely reveal who you are anyway, only to people you know very well. People you trust. 

You had been right in your assumption about Hunter. Even if he hadn’t spent his entire life training and fighting a war, you doubted he’d be spending his free time reading romance novels. 

You had never expected him to read one of them, after the two of you began seeing each other. 

You wanted to simultaneously melt into the floor and explode when you entered your living room to find him holding up a datapad with one of your most popular book covers on the screen. You’re sure your body temperature went up a few degrees as he’d simply sat there holding the datapad with a raised brow. 

“My Clone Lover?” He’d asked, giving you an exasperated look. 

“They were very popular during the war.” You’d shrugged, shuffling your feet bashfully. “There’s a whole series.” 

“A series?” He’d asked in disbelief. 

You didn’t expect him to have read it already. He’d mostly had critiques of smaller details like the GAR and clones' day to day lives and how much freedom they actually had. You of course being a civilian had little knowledge of the military and war and had only had a few resources to go off of. Though, most of your readers probably weren’t reading for military accuracy. 

He only brought up those parts of the stories after you began to get physical in your relationship. 

Hunter’s a good lover. Despite his inexperience at first, he’s attentive and a quick learner. He learns exactly where to touch, where to squeeze, what spots he can simply run his fingers over that leave you squirming.

It doesn’t take much to work him up, either. 

“I think I can help draw up some inspiration.” He says, his voice pitched low and gravely as he tugs the datapad from your hands. 

He hovers over you, letting the datapad drop to the floor with a gentle thud. He presses his lips to yours, his hand sliding down your side to grip your hip. You hum against his lips, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. He presses closer to you as his hand slides down your hip to your bare thigh, squeezing gently. 

“You’ve been getting into the candy stash again.” He murmurs against your lips. 

“It helps me focus.” You giggle. 

“Sure.” He laughs, dragging his hand up your thigh.

“I know you like it when I taste sweet.” You tease. 

He hums again, biting down on your lower lip gently. “I do love the way you taste.” 

His hand pushes your baggy shirt, one of his actually, up around your waist. His fingers are rough on your skin as he slips them under your panties, his middle finger dragging through your folds. 

“Already so wet for me.” He groans, gathering your juices on his finger. 

“Can’t help it.” You moan, gasping quietly as his finger drags over your clit. “You just have that effect on me.” 

“Me, or the thoughts in your head?” He asks, circling your clit slowly. 

“I think about you when I’m writing.” You gasp, fingers gripping his bicep. “That’s what makes it so realistic.” 

He pulls away from your lips, leaning his head on his hand as he stares down at you. His finger continues to circle your clit, slowly working you up. “You base your protagonists’ love interests after me?” 

“To an extent.” You say, fingers digging into his arms as your toes begin to curl with pleasure. “The human ones, at least.” You gasp, hips jerking as he adds just slightly more pressure. “Even some of the other species.” 

He pauses, looking down at you. “Even the Wookiee?” 

“I did say ‘some.’” You roll your eyes. “But I still mostly picture you. The way your hands feel on my body. The way you touch me. The way your cock feels inside me.” 

“You should dedicate your next book to me. ‘To my boyfriend and his magical cock. Thank you for the inspiration.’” He says. 

You slap his arm, letting out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” 

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you again. “I’m joking.” He presses his finger into your pussy, making you gasp. “I’m more than happy to secretly offer inspiration for your characters.” 

“Good.” You gasp against his lips, his tongue tangling with yours. “Cause no book will ever compare to the real thing.” 

He groans against his lips as he eases a second finger into you, curling them upwards. You let out a strangled moan against his lips as he finds that spot inside you, your legs squeezing around his hand. 

He releases your lips to press his face into your neck. “The kids are gone for the night.” He says, lips brushing your skin. ���Be as loud as you want.” 

Your head falls back as another moan is torn from your lips by his fingers pressing hard against that spot inside you. Your legs shake, walls squeezing around his fingers. “Kriff, Hunter!” You whine, your clit dragging against his hand as he fucks you with his fingers. 

“That’s it, baby.” He groans, licking at your neck as you writhe under him. “Cum for me.” 

You cum with a cry of his name, soaking his fingers. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm until you’re starting to shake from the overstimulation. He pulls his hand from your underwear, pushing himself up to sit as he takes them into his mouth, licking them clean. 

You breathe heavily as you watch him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger. He groans as he licks every last drop of your release from his fingers before he’s tugging his shirt over his head, revealing his tattooed chest. You bite your lip, lifting your hips so he can tug your panties off, slipping your own shirt over your head. He kicks his pants to the floor, revealing his hard cock. The tip is leaking already. As you said, he’s easy to work up. 

He moves between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder. You bite your lip as he stares down at you with dark, lust filled eyes. “You look so good under me.” He says, pressing a kiss to your knee. “Look even prettier once you’re fucked out.” 

“Kriff.” You groan as he slips his cock into you. 

He presses all the way into you, folding your body as far as it can. You reach up and tug his bandana off, carding your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, and you drag your nails along his scalp. He lets out a groan, a shiver wracking his body. You smirk, tugging lightly on the strands. He lets out a louder groan, his hips jerking, causing his cock to move inside you. 

“Fuck me, Hunter.” You groan, wrapping your other leg around his waist. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, pulling his hips back just slightly before thrusting back into you. 

Your body moves with his thrusts as he sets a steady pace, the headboard knocking against the wall. Neither of you care to be quiet, not with the house to yourselves. You moan loudly as he shifts his hips inside you, back arching off the bed. 

“Just like that!” You gasp as his hips snap into yours. “Don’t stop!” 

You move your hips with his, your hands pressing against the headboard for leverage as you push yourself back against his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as he continues to hit that spot inside you, unintelligible sounds coming from your lips. 

“Feel so good.” He groans, hands gripping your hips almost tight enough to bruise. “Squeezing me so tight. Kriff, gonna make me cum!” 

You drop one hand to your clit, circling it desperately. You squeeze tight around him, one hard thrust from him sending you over the edge. You scream his name, writhing under him as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

“So beautiful. So kriffing beautiful cumming like that on my cock!” He moans, his hips stuttering before he’s cumming inside you with a deep groan. 

“Kriff,” You breathe, shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Hunter groans, letting your legs fall around him as he drops on top of you, just managing to catch himself before he squishes you. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your hands against his back. He always gets sensitive and overwhelmed thanks to his senses, but you’ve figured out ways to help him ground himself. 

You work on steadying your breathing as he buries his face in your neck, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-soaked skin. You keep yourself wrapped around him, ignoring the feeling of his seed slipping out of your pussy. 

“Feeling inspired?” He murmurs against your neck, rolling you both onto your sides. 

“Hmm,” You hum, carding your fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure. We might need to try a couple more angles.” 

He smirks against your skin, his cock getting hard against your thigh once more. “I think we can manage that.” He nips playfully at your throat. “Always happy to help you with your inspiration.” 

Ye ole Ragu list:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @mssbridgerton @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @hellhound5925 @commanderblood @crosshairlovebot

[denaliwrites]

Dance on a Tightrope of Weird

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Crowley was not expecting you to lose your shit when he asked what you were reading.

Soundtrack: Crazy = Genius by Panic! at the Disco

Requests: Open!

Warnings: The ravings of a madwoman. (It's me, I'm the madwoman.)

It wasn't unusual for Crowley to find you tucked away somewhere in the bookshop reading one of the countless old books Aziraphale kept around. You liked classic literature, and history, and philosophy, and who knew whatever other subjects you happened to find lying around the place.

What was unusual, however, was finding you sat in his usual armchair, reading what was decidedly not a two-hundred-year-old first-edition copy of the random novel you'd decided to bury yourself in that day.

He paused in front of you, carefully tilting the book you held up so that he could look at the cover.

"Dead Mountain?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked so high you could see it over the rim of his sunglasses.

"No, no," you said, a fire immediately lighting in your eyes. "No. Don't even get me started. This is fucking insane."

Crowley never was one to listen to your advice. "Oh?" he prompted casually, and suddenly a chair appeared behind him that he, without looking, flopped down into and sprawled across.

"No, because--"

He loved watching you read. The quiet intent, the way your face moved in tandem with whatever emotions the text wanted you to feel. He'd once walked in on you sobbing along with some tearjerking novel (as a side note, that was the first time Crowley had found himself wanting to kill a book?), and another time he'd walked in on you cheering over something... triumphant, he assumed, or at least something like that.

This was different. New.

He loved it too. The fevered look in your eyes, the frustrated set of your jaw. The way your hand, shaped like a predator's claws, gripped his knee tightly in excitement.

"This is--" you were saying, and Crowley startled back into the moment, eyes on you, attention now unwaveringly on your blazing gaze. "This is so fucking insane. I can't get over this."

"Over what, darling?" he asked, and your gaze sharpened on him, as if only just realizing he was there.

"Do you know about the Dyatlov Pass Incident?"

It sounded familiar. "Tell me all about it, darling."

"Oh, you're gonna regret that."

He wouldn't. Not ever.

"Okay, so -- Soviet Russia. 1959. Middle of winter. These nine hikers -- actually, it was originally ten. These ten experienced hikers go into the Ural Mountains to, like. Upgrade themselves? 'Cause I guess there are levels to being a hiker, and you have to go on increasingly more difficult hikes to level up. So all ten were level two or whatever, and they were going on a level three hike to upgrade to level three."

He nodded, even though all the information was secondary in his attention. He just liked listening to you.

"Okay. So they get to this little town, and while they're there, all the locals are telling them shit like, 'Don't go up that mountain,' or 'you'll die up there!' Like, horror movie type shit. The kind of stuff that makes you yell at the TV."

He was familiar with that. You did that a lot -- but so did he.

"Oh, and the mountain they were hiking on? In the local language it's called Kholat Syakhl. Do you know what that means?"

He... he did. He knew what everything in every language meant. But he let you have this, because you were clearly excited. Seeing the way you motioned with the book, he waved toward it and asked, "Dead mountain?"

"Fucking -- dead mountain!"

He chuckled, but otherwise stayed silent.

"So they're getting all these crazy warnings and the mountain is literally called Dead Mountain in the local language, but they decide to go anyway! So they go off, but before they get very far, one of them is like, 'I'm so sick, I can't go on!' and so he tells them he's gonna go back to the town, and they leave without him."

"I take it he's the only survivor?"

You nodded. "Yeah. The other nine kept going. Oh, and another crazy thing -- one of the girls on the trip was keeping a journal? That's how we know about, like... 90% of the things that happened after they left the town."

He nodded. "Makes sense."

"So, because of this girl's journal, right? We know that one of the hikers just, like, fully went off his fucking rocker about a day into the trip."

"What?" Crowley asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Yeah! He started getting really antsy, and he kept shouting stuff at seemingly nothing? He yelled, like, 'Stop following us!' and stuff like that. At nothing!"

Crowley, for effect, took his sunglasses off so that you could see his surprised look.

"Anyway. So they keep going, even though literally everything that could ever say 'turn back' is saying 'turn the fuck back!' They got off course --"

"As you do."

"As you fucking do. They got off course and decided to hunker down for the night and retrace their steps in the morning. They set up camp, went to bed, and then they all fucking died."

"Oh, I imagine there's more to it than that," Crowley said.

The grin on your face was bordering on manic. "Oh, of course. First of all, according to the girl's journal, two of the hikers went batshit, started laughing hysterically for no reason, and then took off into the night, never to be seen again -- well, not alive, anyway."

"Ominous," Crowley observed thoughtfully.

"Right? And the other weird thing about that -- well, pre them all dying. There was, according to the girl, a big, glowing orange ball of light in the sky that night. They have a picture of it," you said, turning the book so that he could see. "Of course, it's in black and white, but still. And -- the craziest part of that, is that there were hikers on the other side of the mountain on the same night who confirmed the big glowing orange ball of light!"

Crowley's mouth dropped open.

"I KNOW! And then -- their deaths are even more bizarre! First of all, they cut their way out of their tent? Like, they didn't just -- open it and leave. They cut. Their way out. And then they ran down the side of the mountain into the trees. No one's really sure how anything else happened, but what we know for sure is that three of them were found a little up the mountain, like they'd been trying to make their way back up."

"Mhm."

"And two were found naked -- right at the edge of the trees, under one of the bigger ones. Some branches in the tree were broken in a way that seems to indicate that they were trying to climb up and get a view of the camp. There were also remains of a fire beside the bodies. We don't know for sure why they were naked, but the theory is paradoxical stripping."

"And what's that?" Crowley asked, even though he knew.

"It's when you're so cold that you start to feel hot, and so you take off all your clothes."

Demonic work, he was sure.

"So that's five of them. They were found shortly after they died. The other four weren't found until a few months later, after the spring thawed a lot of the snow."

"Why weren't they found right away?"

"Because they were found in a ravine about a mile past the treeline! Three of them were found in a stream in this ravine. One of them had a piece of her skull missing? And all of them had major trauma to their chests -- like, high-speed impact by a delivery truck kind of major impact. To this day, no one's sure what the fuck caused that kind of damage."

Crowley clicked his tongue in thought.

"And the last one -- she was found sitting up against a big boulder? The official report describes her like that. Sitting up against a boulder. She had, like, chunks of her face missing? And her tongue was missing. Like, the whole thing."

"You specified the official report," Crowley observed. "Is that important?"

"Oh! Yes! Because the pictures of the area? They show her as laying face down in the stream with the others!"

"That's suspicious."

"Right? On top of all that, their bodies had traces of radiation! Not their clothes, though, or their belongings. Just the bodies."

Crowley hummed.

"Oh! And their tent -- when authorities found the tent, it looked like it had been put up by amateurs. Like, level zero hikers. But these were level two hikers doing their level three hike. There's no reason their tent would've been put up like that. Even if they were in a rush or scared or whatever, it would've been put up at least sort of better."

He nodded in understanding.

"It's just -- it's all so crazy!"

"I can tell," he mused aloud, lips quirking into a smirk at your perplexed and frustrated expression.

"The thing with the girl's face is really weird," you said after a moment of thought. "The theory is scavengers, but reports of the incident specify there were no animals in the area. Like, I feel like if there were scavengers, you'd write down 'no predators,' or even 'no wolves or bears.' But no, they wrote, very specifically, 'no animals.' Like, I dunno, it just feels like that's a weird distinction to make. But then, if there weren't any animals, how did her face end up with bits missing?"

"I couldn't tell you."

"And why lie about her, too? Why move her and put her in the stream when the report literally says she was up against the boulder?"

He shrugged, before shifting forward to grip your knee.

"I just -- it's all so crazy, and weird, and -- and --"

"Oh," Crowley interjected, looking thoughtful. "Now I know why that all sounds familiar."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that was demonic work," he continued, blissfully unaware of your increasingly maddening expression. "I'm pretty sure that was my side."

"So you -- you know what happened?"

He finally caught your expression, the set of your jaw and slight twitch in your eye. "Oh -- yeah. Of course," he said, sounding rather unsure, actually. If anything, that just seemed to aggravate you more. "Space yetis."

"... SPACE YETIS!?"

[fictionstudent]

How to pull off "show not tell"

“Show, not tell” is a common advice that both emerging and emerged writers (lol) hear quite often. But most of us don’t really understand what it completely means, until really later.

Personally, I took the advice by heart. But I had the definition wrong. I thought the advice meant that you don’t write “he was angry” but rather “he frowned”, “he glared” or something like that. And it’s kinda right. But kinda. And you can really mess it up when you only half-know what it means—believe me, my first couple of novels were a mess.

So, you might ask what “show, not tell” even means—what it actually means. And I’m here to tell you everything I know about it.

***

What is “show, not tell”

Well, it’s actually a quite recent writing tool in the industry. I don’t really know how and where the term originated—and I’m too lazy to actually Google it—so I won’t get to that.

I’ve heard and read about this term a lot—right from the time I’ve begun writing. It’s quite famous. In fact, it’s a prerequisite these days. Many beginning writers would have heard this criticism that their prose doesn’t really show, it just tells. It’s filled with telling. You should show, not tell.

So, what does this “show, not tell” even mean? The advice is quite self-explanatory, you see. It’s when you show your characters doing or feeling something rather than just telling your readers what happened. So, on one aspect, it refrains you from narrating your story.

And by narrating your story, I mean the parts where the characters are not moving in real-time, but the writer is narrating what had happened. For example,

And we crossed the seas. The journey wasn’t long, but those days we had nothing to do. We were bored the heck out of our brains. Those days felt like an eternity. Until today, when we finally found what we were looking for—a piece of land in the middle of the Pacific. The Hirohoto Islands.

You don’t do this. It’s okay when a character is telling the story to another character. But a narrator should refrain from doing this.

According to this advice, you actually show scenes of the journey—maybe show that the MC was fiddling with stuff all day long, people were drinking booze or something day and night, and some just stared into the blue oceans day in and day out, until this one guy saw a green dot far away. In fact, whatever I just said can be used quite literally, if you don’t wanna go into the details of the scenes. Yeah, you can even go into more details and maybe write a little chapter filled with such scenes.

But, well, as you could have guessed, it’s on a macro-level. The advice can also be used on a micro-level.

For example, you don’t write,

I was angry at Sara. But she didn’t care.

Instead, you write,

I wanted to kill Sara on the spot. I wanted to choke her, I wanted to stab a knife in her chest. But Sara—the damn audacity! She just stood there, simply staring at me like nothing happened just now, like she never said anything to rage me up like this. She didn’t care about me, did she? She never cared.

The second one is filled with anger. And the dejection that the narrator feels, knowing that Sara doesn’t care about him anyway.

On micro-level, there are two actually two ways to imply this advice. And this is something that I had to figure out on my own—no one told me that there were two ways to do this, no article mentions this.

One way is to use visuals, the other monologues.

***

Visuals

Let me explain. When you see the movie, you don’t witness the inner monologues or thoughts of your narrators. You just experience the way the actors act—the way their gazes shift, their body movement changes, and all that. That’s using visuals. For example, read this scene where the character is just betrayed,

Her fists clenched hard. Her arms were trembling. And her eyes… They tried hard to fight back those tears. But the dam could break any moment now.

You get the feeling that the character was betrayed in some way, and that she was both angry and dejected at the situation. She wanted to cry. She wanted to punch.

But I never wrote,

She was so angry at them. She wanted to cry, but she controlled herself.

The second one doesn’t give us the same form of feeling as the first one. The first one obviously reads better, and everyone would prefer that.

***

Monologues

This is something that’s unique to the art of prose. It’s only in prose that you can witness the inner monologues of the characters, and use them to tell a story. Films, comics, and other visual media don’t do this.

And yes, that’s what I mean when I say monologues. Use these monologues to show what the characters feel, and how they react.

For example, let’s take the previous example where the character has just been betrayed,

She couldn’t believe this. Was this for real? Was this… really happening? Really?

How could someone do something like this? And… And to her? What had she done to be betrayed like this?

Again, you hear what the characters are feeling. You understand their tone. And you emphasize with them this way.

***

Visuals or Monologues - How to choose

Now, you might be wondering that if you can use the “show, not tell” in two ways, how do you choose which one to use and which one not, especially in a particular scene?

Well, for that, read the two examples above again—the ones about the betrayed character. Take about a minute to scroll up, c’mon.

You’d understand that on a subconscious level, there’s something oddly different between the two. It’s as if none of the two really give a complete picture of the scene. You get one aspect from the visuals, one from the monologue. But you don’t really get that the character is actually betrayed until I tell you that before you read the examples.

That’s the problem with using one over the other—you often miss out something or the other. In some scenes, maybe where you use stronger action verbs, the visuals might be enough, while in some scenes, visuals won’t really matter, but rather, the monologue will.

But in most scenes, you’d need to mix the two types. Read this,

She couldn’t believe this. Was this for real? Was this… really happening? Really?

Her fists clenched hard. Her arms were trembling. And her eyes… They tried hard to fight back those tears. But the dam could break any moment now.

How could someone do something like this? And… And to her? What had she done to be betrayed like this?

I simply mixed the two—both visuals and monologues. And now, the prose tells the whole story. It can stand on its own, without me telling the context. It feels complete.

See, visuals and monologues are not two ways to “show, not tell” technique, but rather, are two tools that complement each other. Yeah, you can always use one instead of both, but you don’t need to choose one over the other—choose both. Or rather, choose none, if you think that helps the scene better.

***

A common mistake to avoid

Some writers often make this mistake that you should try avoiding. This mistake is really hard to notice, sometimes, but with practice, maybe you can learn how to solve it.

And that mistake is that you often show and tell. For example,

She was angry. She glared at him, her fists clenched hard, like she’d just punch him in the face and get this crap done with.

It’s two sentences. Notice this—the first sentence clearly tells you that the character is angry. And then the second one shows it.

This way, you’re repeating the action twice. The reader would make one mental image in their head when they read the first sentence, and then you make it up for them, in which case, they’d need to adjust that image. That’s not how you make your prose flow.

Never repeat action. An action that happens once in the prose should be mentioned once. The later sentences can expand on it, but not mention the action again. Repeating actions happen a lot in “show, not tell”, and sometimes, it’s not so easy to point it out.

***

Solution

I’ve recently got a hold on this “show, not tell” advice too, to be honest. And as someone who’s recently cleared its basics, I’d admit it—it’s tough to just go and start implementing it.

Therefore, in my current WIP—in which I’m really making sure I follow this rule—I’ve developed a technique that might work for you too, for someone who’s just started out.

Don’t care about this rule in the first draft. You can tell as much as you want in your first draft—go for it. In fact, that’s what I’ve been doing currently too.

But when you’re done with the draft, mark all the places where you think you’ve told and not shown, and then when you’re writing the second draft, just replace all the telling parts with the showing parts. Simply replace them all, and rewrite.

It’s that simple, really.

Even if you’re far into your project and now feel you’ve not really stuck with the advice and messed up, don’t scrap the whole project. I’ve always scrapped projects because sometimes I felt I messed up quite hard, and that’s why I’d advise you not to. In your case, simply go for a re-read, mark the ­telling phrases, and re-write them. You’re done.

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Conclusion

I hope this article will help you guys. I also wanted to talk about why you should follow this advice of “show, not tell”, why the readers today love it, and when to actually break this rule to tell stuff to the readers. But I thought that it’d deviate this article too much, so I stuck to the basics. I might talk about the other stuff in some other article.

Anyway, see you around!