#making a new posts so I don’t take away from the chaos of the other one

[flightlessangelwings]

Our Souls Intertwined

sith!Obi Wan Kenobi x fem!jedi!reader

Word count- 4,580

Prompt- a lightsaber tilting up someone's chin

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), enemies to lovers, fighting, mutual pining, flirting, tension, fingering, piv sex, pet names (darling, love), praise, jedi!reader, reader is competent as a fighter and is a badass, no physical descrption of reader other than body parts, lightsaber color also never described, no use of y/n, open ending so you can decide for yourself what happens next

Notes- Written for Sith Obi Wan event @sithobiwanevent and oh boy did I have so much fun with this one!! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Please let me know what you think!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

^ gif credit linked above (thank you wonderful person for making that gif!!)

~

It was an epic battle. The whir of lightsabers filled the air. Red clashed with various colors as Lord Obi Wan Kenobi, feared and powerful sith lord, fought his way through the waves of jedi that came at him. A dark smirk graced his face as he sliced through some padawans, easily defeating the young opponents in front of him. Around him, his army fired from their blasters. It was chaos, and he thrived on it. The energy around him whirled, and he harnessed the power of the force to his advantage.

It was then that Kenobi saw you.

He brushed a lock of hair that had fallen on his face to watch you battle the enemy droids that surrounded you. He saw the strain in your jaw as you parried the blaster fire that came your way before you ran and stabbed those that shot at you. Kenobi was actually impressed by the way you handled yourself, and he actually had to take a breath to calm the thoughts that flooded his mind.

Swinging his red saber in a dramatic circle, Kenobi rushed over to you, calling your name as he got within range.

You whipped around, your own lightsaber at the ready as you braced yourself from the impact of Kenobi’s weapon.

“Hello there,” Kenobi smirked.

“Kenobi,” you strained as you countered his attack and parried with one of your own.

“Lovely to see you again, darling,” he quipped.

You just grunted as you volleyed your weapon. Ignoring the way Kenobi’s yellow eyes bore into you as if they were looking into your soul, you focused on the red of his blade. The two of you fought each other one on one, your blades crossing each other as if you were in a dance. The rest of the battle seemed to fade away and all that existed was each other.

“You’ve improved, darling,” Kenobi observed as he lunged at you with more force, electricity cackling as his saber crushed against yours.

“Don’t call me that, Kenobi,” you growled back, fighting both his physical assault and the way your heart secretly fluttered in your chest whenever he called you any term of endearment. The smoothness of his voice always went right to your core, as much as you tried to push it away. 

It only took that one fraction of a second for Kenobi to gain the advantage. Just the slight loosening of your lightsaber was all it took for him to knock it out of your hand and use the force to push you onto the ground. You spat a curse under your breath as you tried to channel the force to pull your saber back into your hand, but Kenobi’s boot caught it before it slid close enough for you to grasp it.

“Shit,” you muttered as you scrambled to your knees.

Before you could rise completely, red filled your vision. The hum of Kenobi’s lightsaber rang in your ears as you suddenly found yourself paralyzed. Sweat lined your brow as he used the tip of his saber to gently force your vision up to meet his gaze. He was careful, though, careful not to actually touch the blade to your skin and hurt you. Instead, Kenobi used the force to angle your head up.

In one hand, Kenobi held his lightsaber and the other he held up with two fingers as he controlled the force around the two of you. His eyes matched the red of his blade as his gaze pierced into you.

Helpless, you swallowed hard, “If you’re going to kill me, Kenobi,” you tried to sound strong, though you were sure your voice was strained, “Just get it over with. Don’t toy with me like this.”

“Why would I kill you, darling?” he purred, clearly enjoying having you helpless on your knees before him.

The question caught you off guard.

“Why not join me?” he asked in a smooth tone, “I could help you hone your skills. You could fight at my side instead of against me.”

You inhaled sharply, “You asked me that before, Kenobi,” you steadied your breath as you focused your feelings and reigned in your emotions, “And my answer is still no.”

He smiled darkly, “Still as stubborn as ever I see,” he actually sounded impressed, “But I see there is no changing your mind yet, love.” Kenobi released you and retracted his lightsaber. 

With a gasp, you fell forward and your face smashed into the ground. Quickly, you scrambled to your hands and knees only to find Kenobi had put some distance between the two of you.

“Until next time, darling,” he gave you a quick wave of his fingers before he disappeared into a dust cloud.

You were left alone and astonished. Why hadn’t he killed you? Why did he leave you alive? Again? Swallowing hard, you ignored the way your heart pounded in your chest as you grabbed your lightsaber and ran back to help the other jedi.

*

It wasn’t long before you met Kenobi again on the battlefield. Lightsabers clashed as you fought him on the desolate planet. You weren’t even sure which planet you were on, only that it was barren and filled mostly with sand and boulders and caves. Lightsabers and blasters clashed in the dunes and rocks of the desolate planet. 

“You get better every time I see you, darling,” Kenobi smirked, “If you were to join me, I could make you even greater.”

“Keep dreaming, Kenobi,” you countered back. 

“Oh I do see you in my dreams, darling,” he grinned, enjoying how his words threw you off for a moment.

The two of you battled each other, moving away from the rest of the battlefield and the others without realizing it. You grunted as you tried to focus your energy into finally beating him, but the way his yellow eyes stared into your soul distracted you. And all it took was a moment, just one flash of an instant, for you to lose your edge.

One misstep and you tumbled down the rocky ridge that hosted your duel with the sith lord. But, before you hit the ground, you found yourself suspended in the air. Looking up, you saw Kenobi rush toward you, shouting your name. In a fit of frustration, you channeled the force and pushed that energy towards him, attempting to knock him off balance.

It did, and Kenobi fell back. However, the rush of force energy also hit a large pile of large rocks and boulders. The ground rumbled beneath your body and you knew this was greater trouble than the sith in front of you. In an instant, your goal changed from beating Kenobi to getting out of the rockslide alive. 

Looking behind him, he noticed the danger too and he bolted toward you and pulled you off the ground, “Run!” Kenobi yelled as he grabbed your hand.

The rockslide felt like it was caving in around you as you ran, your hand in his. Kenobi led you towards a cave, an opening that seemed to be your only way of escaping the cascading boulders around you both. As the dust clouded your vision and the crashing of the rocks around you made it hard to hear, you had no choice but to put your trust in him.

Kenobi got you both into the cave with just a fraction of a second to spare. Both of you crashed to the ground as the boulders piled up at the entrance, blocking you in. You let out a heavy exhale as the dust settled, and the only beams of light that lit up the small cave came from higher up.

The cave was shallow, and you could see the end of it. That meant there was no way out except for how you came in. And how you came in was currently blocked with dozens of large boulders. The beams of light came from small openings between the rocks, but they weren’t big enough to crawl through. Inside the cave, there were only the two of you, along with rocks scattered throughout the floor.

“Are you alright?” Kenobi asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” you replied immediately as you tried to stand. However, when you tried to move your arm, you hissed in pain, “Shit…” you grabbed your shoulder and felt blood soak your hand.

“No you’re not,” Kenobi rushed to you, inspecting your wound and swallowing the fear that threatened to bubble over in his mind.

“I’ll be ok,” you tried to ignore his worry over you, “It’s not that bad.”

He pursed his lips as he looked at your shoulder then back to where the boulders piled high, trapping you in together, “It’s too high to climb,” he observed, “And it’ll take both of us to move all the boulders,” Kenobi turned back to you, “Which you can’t do with that injury,” he reached for your shoulder again, “Let me.” His heart fluttered in his chest as he saw the blood seep from your shoulder, and he hated the sinking feeling he had when he saw you hurt.

Before you could protest, Kenobi covered your injury with his hand and let out a long slow breath. Mouth opened in shock, you felt warmth on your injury and you felt the energy of the force flow from him into you. You watched him for a moment before you closed your eyes and surrendered yourself, feeling the force flow between your bodies as if it cradled and protected you both. Warmth embraced you as you felt rejuvenated from what Kenobi was doing.

With a gasp, Kenobi broke away from you as his eyes shot open. He backed away as he hunched forward, weak from the energy he expended. You let out a gasp of your own as you watched him crawl to a rock to steady himself before he lifted his body to sit.

“How were you able to do that?” you asked in shock as you cradled your now uninjured shoulder.

Kenobi just looked at you, “Well I wasn’t always a sith, darling,” he gave you a genuine soft smile.

The question came out before you could stop it, “What happened?”

His smile turned mischievous, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You rolled your eyes.

Changing the subject with a heavy sigh, Kenobi said, “It looks like we’ll be here for a while. I need to recover my strength if we are to move those boulders,” he looked around, “Might as well get comfortable.”

Your body remained stiff as you stayed on high alert. Your saber was at your side, yet you made sure your hand was never far from it. The muscles in your jaw clenched harder as you watched Kenobi visibly relax on a rock, leaning back and resting his leg in front of him.

“I’m not going to attack you,” he said in a calm tone after feeling your heavy gaze on him for several long moments.

“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, guard still up but chipped away just the slightest. 

Kenobi smirked as he stood, “What would you like me to do, darling?” he purred as he took a step towards you.

You took a step back, keeping the distance between you. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way you felt the force move around you whenever he was near, and especially when it was now just the two of you trapped and alone. And you were sure he felt it too.

“I…” 

The two of you kept up this dance, Kenobi stepping forward and you stepping back until you hit a wall. His body was relaxed; he wasn’t hunting you. Instead, it was as if he was approaching you at a bar, friendly almost. Your heart pounded in your chest, yet it wasn’t from fear.

“I have something in mind,” his tone was low yet soft as he stepped into your space.

You swallowed hard as you pressed your back against the wall, feeling him against you. Kenobi placed a hand on one side of your head as his gaze bore into your soul.

“And I think you have the same thought as I do,” he continued as he leaned into you.

“How do you know?” you tried to sound tough, but you didn’t even fool yourself. You dropped your gaze to the ground, avoiding his eyes.

Kenobi let out an amused huff as he took two fingers and gently guided your face to look back up and meet his eyes. It was a similar feeling from last time when you met him on the battlefield and he used his saber to force you to look at him. Both times, you should have felt threatened, in danger. And yet, you didn’t. Not then, and certainly not now. No, it was a different feeling that pulsed through your veins.

“Because,” he said in almost a whisper, “You aren’t pushing me away.”

Your mouth dropped open as you realized that he was not trapping you at all. The only contact he made was his fingers on your chin, which you could have easily brushed off. Kenobi hovered close to you, yet he gave you a clear path out if you chose to take it. Yet, you didn’t. You chose to stay there, in his gaze.

“Why don’t you just take what you want from me?” you asked.

“Darling,” he sounded almost offended, “I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you,” he sighed, “I want you on your own volition.”

“Obi Wan…” you breathed his name… his first name you realized. 

His yellow eyes went wide as his jaw clenched, “No one has called me that in… A long time,” he sighed, “It sounds lovely in your voice.”

You let out a deep breath as you felt his breath on your lips.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he murmured, “And say my name again.” It wasn’t a command, but a request. It was his way of giving you one last out should you choose.

Your eyes darted from his yellow ones down to his lips and you swallowed hard, “Kiss me… Obi Wan.”

The moment the words left your lips he crashed his into yours. Your moan was muffled from the kiss, but you instantly melted into it, grasping at his black robes as you parted your lips for him. Obi Wan took the invitation eagerly and slipped his tongue past your lips, tasting you, savoring you. He groaned into you as he finally touched you, one hand grabbing your hip while the other cradled your jaw. 

In your studies as a jedi, you trained to feel the force around you and how to harness it. You had an exceptional understanding of it, and learned to control it much faster than your classmates. As a knight, your power only grew. But, it wasn’t until you kissed the sith lord Obi Wan Kenobi that you fully understood the true feeling of the force wrapping itself around you and how it bound two souls together. You had never felt anything like this in your life before. And from the way he groaned into you, you were sure he felt the same way.

“You taste divine, lovely,” he purred against your lips before he kissed you again, his beard ticking your face as he devoured you.

“Obi Wan…” you whispered as you broke the kiss for a breath of air. You tilted your head to the side as he kissed his way along your jaw and down your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he hit more sensitive spots, “Touch me. Please,” you pleaded.

“It would be my pleasure, darling,” he groaned as his hands roamed across your chest.

His hands slipped under your jedi robes and cupped your breasts. He let out a satisfied growl when you mewled in pleasure under his touch, and he could help the way he kneaded and caressed your soft mounds. Kenobi felt a jolt within him when he pinched your nipples and made you cry out louder.

He hummed as his hands made their way down your body, his eyes never moving from your face the entire time. Kenobi didn’t want to miss a single expression as he worshiped you with his hands. He paused for a moment when his fingers reached the top of your pants, but when you didn’t protest or push him away, he dipped a hand underneath the fabric.

Both of you gasped as Obi Wan’s hand cupped your pussy. While your eyes fluttered shut and you arched your back against the wall, his stayed open, watching you with great interest. Your mouth dropped open as he carefully pushed two fingers into you.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you grasped at his shoulders for balance.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. Obi Wan couldn’t tear his eyes away from you even if he wanted to. Every little expression you made, every little sound of pleasure that escaped your lips, even how your pussy felt around him… you were everything to him.

“Obi Wan…” you whined as your mind swam in the bliss his fingers gave you. 

Oh how he loved it when you said his name. Obi Wan’s eyes burned with passion as he growled and thrust his fingers into you harder. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you. As he buried his fingers deep inside you, Obi Wan rutted against your body, covering you with himself as heat rose between you.

“Please… I’m close…” you moaned as you felt dizzy. You tightened your grip on him, knowing he would be there to hold you and keep you steady.

“Show me how beautiful you are when you cum, darling,” he groaned as he picked up his pace with his fingers.

It only took a few more deep thrusts for you to come undone. Your body trembled in his grip as you came hard with a loud scream of his name. Tears filled your eyes as you felt overwhelmed between the emotions that pulsed through your body as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers. And just as you felt breathless, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time.

You whimpered as Obi Wan slowly pulled his fingers out of you and your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths. When he broke away, you finally looked into his eyes and saw the fire that burned behind them. “Fuck me, Obi Wan.”

He smiled at you as he grabbed you and spun you around. In a flash, you found yourself on your back, his cape underneath you as he quickly yanked and tugged at both your clothing. Depreciation took over both of you as you worked to quickly strip each other until you are both completely bare.

“Wow,” you breathed as you stared at him.

“Exquisite,” he moaned as he lunged forward and kissed you once more, his hips rutting against the fold of your pussy as he started to lose control of himself.

Obi Wan lost even more control as he pushed the tip of his cock into you. Both of you gasped and cried out as you felt him slowly enter you. You clawed at his back as more of his cock stretched you out inch by inch. And Obi Wan growled as your warmth engulfed him, driving him wild.

“Obi Wan…” you whined.

“I know, darling,” he muttered as he rocked back and thrust forward. 

A string of curses escaped both your lips as he rocked in and out of you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with precision every single time. You screamed as your vision blurred and you dug your nails more into his back. But it only spurred him on more, thrusting harder and faster into you as he became more and more desperate.

Screams and groans echoed in the cave and skin slapped against skin. Obi Wan would have wanted this to last longer, but you were too beautiful, too enticing, too perfect. Sweat lined his brow as locks of hair stuck to his forehead as he thrust into you with abandon. 

“Cum for me, darling,” he growled as he felt his own climax build, “Cum with me.”

“Fuck!” you cried out as your breasts swung back and forth with every thrust of his hips.

With a scream, your second orgasm hit you like a bantha and your legs trembled on either side of his body as he continued to pound into you. Obi Wan growled your name as your orgasm triggered his and he came deep into you, grunting and moaning as he spilled himself inside your body.

Obi Wan kept going as long as he could, rocking into your wet pussy hard enough to feel the splash of your release soak your bodies. But, as he rode out both your climaxes, neither of you had anything left to give and he pulled out of you after one final thrust. 

You gasped as you felt the sudden emptiness and your eyes shot open to watch him hover over you with an inferno in his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you stared back at him and suddenly you were keenly aware of how naked you still were. Heavy breaths echoed around you as you both lost yourselves in each other.

Sensing your shift, Obi Wan took a deep breath and composed himself. He leaned over and gathered your jedi robes and handed them to you, “Here,” he said before he turned his back to you to give you some privacy.

Neither of you were sure why he did that, after he just fucked you. but you welcomed it either way. Both of you were silent as you redressed. Your heart still beat wildly in your chest as you felt the ghost of his touch on your skin and you replayed what just happened in your head.

“Anger. Fear. Loss,” Obi Wan broke the silence after he slipped on his pants and robe, leaving it open to bare his chest to you still.

“What?” Your voice was just a whisper as you spun around to face him.

“How I turned to the dark side,” Obi Wan said in a soft voice, one that you guessed he hadn’t used in some time, “There was someone… very dear to me. Someone that I loved with everything I had. Someone…” he took in a shaky breath as he ran his hands through his hair, “I couldn’t save… No matter how hard I tried.”

You watched with wide eyes as he bared his soul to you with his confession. You guessed the way his story ended without him having to say it out loud. You both knew the path to the dark side, and how his loss led to his fall. You crossed the space to stand face to face with him as you placed a hand on his chest.

“I swore then that I would never care for anyone like that again,” Obi Wan turned away from you, breaking the contact he craved so deeply, “And I hadn’t since…” he turned back to meet your gaze, “Until now.”

A gasp escaped your lips, “Obi Wan…?”

He gave you a sad smile, one that you couldn’t decipher its meaning. Before you could say anything else, though, he turned to the wall of boulders, “I think we can move it now,” he said as he tightened his robe around him.

You followed his gaze with your own and nodded, “Ok.” The disappointment in your tone was clear. 

“Concentrate all your energy,” he told you, “You hold them steady, I will push them out of our way. When you see an opening, you run. Understand?”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell him to run with you, to stay at your side. But the seriousness in his expression told you it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. “Got it.”

Both of you raised your arms, channeling the force toward the boulders. You grunted as you kept the large rocks steady while Obi Wan worked on moving them out of the way. He started with the smaller ones at the top, but when he got to the middle, it all started to collapse.

“Steady!” he shouted.

You gritted your teeth as you strained to keep the bigger ones steady. Dust started to fill the air as everything moved. When Obi Wan got to the center, he called your name, “Run! Now! Go!”

Doing as you were told, you bolted forward into the dust. You tried to keep the rocks steady as you ran, but the more you exerted yourself, the harder it got. The ground rumbled as the boulders tumbled out of the way, creating dust clouds so thick that you couldn’t see through.

Once you were out and clear from the rocks, you turned around and screamed, “Obi Wan!” You streamed to look for him through the dust, but for several moments, you couldn't. You reached through the force, pushing the rocks out of the way to search for him.

Just when you were about to lose hope, you saw his silhouette in the dust, “Obi Wan,” you sighed in relief as you ran to him. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, embracing him hard, “You’re ok.”

He smiled at you as he held you close, just as relieved as you were, “I’m alright, darning.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a moment you saw no sign of the sith yellow that usually illuminated them. In front of you now wasn’t a sith lord or empire general, but just a man. As you held each other, you felt the sense that there was much left unspoken, but the sound of an engine in the distance forced those thoughts to remain unsaid.

“It’s a rebel transport,” he said, “They must have seen the dust cloud from our escape. They’ll pick you up, and you’ll be safe.”

“But what about you?” you turned back to face him.

Obi Wan smiled at you as he cupped the side of your face, “I’ll be alright, darling, don’t you worry.” He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to kiss you again, but he decided not to, “Now go,” he nudged you forward as he retreated back.

You turned toward the incoming ship, waving your hands so that they spotted you. As it hovered closer, blowing your robes up into the wind, you spoke to him with your back still turned, “Obi Wan, come with…” you turned around to find him gone, “Me.” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment as the ship landed and the clones called your name.

“You’re alright! We were looking for you,” they said as they ushered you onto the ship.

From the shadows in the distance, Obi Wan Kenobi watched as you got on board and were flown away to safety. He sensed the thought in your mind, and he fled before you could ask it. He knew he would not have the strength to deny your request had he heard you speak it. Blowing a kiss into the air, he whispered, “Until we meet again, my love,” before he turned and went the opposite direction. 

Be safe, he released his thought across the planes to you. 

[megamindsupremacy]

Addition to my Reverse Robins/Age Reversal Billy AU: like how sometimes people think Capitan Marvel is Billy Batson’s dad and/or C.C. Batson, people think Capitan Marvel (the magic 8 year old) is Billy Batson’s (the late 20s year old) son because of the resemblance

[likedaylighht]

Ahhh I love release weeks, the chaos, the clowning… something new and wild happpens every few hours, new lyrics make us lose our goddamn minds, fans arguing FOR a double album, fans arguing AGAINST a double album, tiktok swifties for some reason thinking rep tv is coming, spiraling about wether or not Taylor’s cat is dead (this is a new one), unfollowing and blocking left and right bc of leaks (are they real? Are they fake? Who knows, too late once you see them), everyone live blogging their mental breakdowns, someone logging in who’s been away all day and is confused, seeing takes from the mutual in law you don’t like, the “I KNEW IT FROM THE BEGINNING” types, people complaining that their job expects them to do work, seeing a “I’m so glad I took off of work on friday” post, the “actually I still haven’t recovered from folklore/evermore/etc” crowd, there’s really nothing else like it, honored to spend every release week on here with you guys I wouldn’t want to spend it any other way

[norrizzandpia]

I JUST READ You Were Never What I Wanted AND NOW I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE

IT WAS SO GOOD

IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART (if u decide to post it)

YOURE WRITING IS AMAZING <333

Yall ask and yall shall receive! Part 1 link if you need it <3

But I Need You Now (You Were Never What I Wanted, Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: In the aftermath of Lando and Y/n, Lando makes it his personal mission to show Y/n that it wasn’t fake. Their PR stunt might’ve started out as a lie, but it was love for him and he knows it was for her too.

Warnings: language, angsty, FLUFF AT THE END BITCHES AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE HELL I PUT YOU THROUGH WITH THESE TWO-PARTERS, sexual conversations

Note: see what I did with the title… 😏 You were never what I wanted, but I need you now 🤭 also i made this less angsty as an apology again 👹

Y/n goes home for a few days.

The news spreads throughout the paddock like a virus, being whispered in every person’s ear. When it gets back to Lando, he stands in the midst of the chaos in McLaren’s garage.

Jon leaves his hand on Lando’s shoulder in a comforting manner, knowing something happened between them, but not knowing the specific details.

“She left?” He says lowly, voice wavering as he tries to gain control of it.

Jon nods, “I’m afraid so.”

“What about the race?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides.

“She’s having the reserve driver take her place. You know that.” Jon gives him a confused look.

Lando shakes his head, “No, I get that, but how could she just give up on it?”

Jon sighs and Lando can tell his trainer doesn’t want to tell him the next bit of information. He does anyway, “I heard she was pretty distraught after that gala a week ago. Apparently, she was sobbing and the valet had to help her call a cab. She was a mess, I gather, no one knows why.”

I do, he thinks. I know why, Lando thinks.

Lando abandons the conversation, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl he loves.

She plagues his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions, his thoughts, he doesn’t need her to infiltrate his life anymore.

🏎️

“What’s the problem?” He asks an hour later when Jon treats him like he’s about to have a mental breakdown at any moment.

His trainer eyes him suspiciously, gently, “Nothing,”

Lando groans, arms flying out beside him before smacking down back at his sides, “Jon, cut the bullshit. You’ve been treating me like I’m a fucking baby all day. Why?”

Jon sighs, turning to look at him before grabbing his arm and pulling them out of the garage. Jon forces them into a random hallway always away from the commotion and publicity, looking at Lando softly, “What happened between you and Y/n?”

Suddenly, Lando’s defensive. The mention of her name makes his skin crawl and his heart clench, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You two were dating.”

Lando rolls his eyes, “We were not dating. We were a PR stunt. You know that, Jon.”

Jon stares him down, “You two were dating.”

The meaning of his words hits Lando, what Jon truly is trying to address. He’s drowning in the mistakes of his own actions and the love he developed for her, no way to explain his way out of the situation with Jon looking at him knowingly.

He folds his arms over his chest, “Maybe in the end.”

Jon’s face scrunches up in confusion, “In the end? Of course, you were. Did you sleep together?”

“Fuck, no!” Lando yelps, astonishment at Jon’s bluntness, a trait the man has never had when it came to his romantic relationships.

Jon shakes his head, confusion deepening, “Then how the fuck did you two end up where you are? How did you end up in this mess? Which you still have not told me about.”

He sighs, head falling to stare at his shoes, “I fell in love with her. She fell in love with me. Well, at least I think.”

Jon, the man so incredibly lost, looks blankly at Lando, “You fell in love. With Y/n. Y/l/n. The woman you used to absolutely detest. The woman who used to hate your guts. You two fell in love with each other?”

Lando nods, “I know how it sounds, but it happened.”

Jon’s head tilts to the side, “Okay, and what happened the night of the gala?”

Jon sees the shift of Lando’s demeanor, his entire body running cold with images of her walking out on him. The boy’s body running cold, he tries to get through the night that ruined it all, “Everything was fine in the beginning. We were just talking to a bunch of donors. You know, we got so many that night. Anyways, we were at the bar and being stupid as always, getting drunk, when Lu showed up.”

“Lu as is your ex?” Jon clarifies.

Lando nods, “Yeah, so she came up to us and we just got to talking. She mentioned the fact that we still talk.”

Jon’s mouth falls open, “You and Lu still talk?!”

“Not anymore, not after the gala. She basically cut off contact with me because she ‘hated the way it made her feel when she saw the look on Y/n’s face’. But, at that time, we had been. I should’ve told Y/n when we started getting serious, but I didn’t and that came back to bite me in the ass because she was so betrayed, Jon.”

“So, she walked out of the gala because she was angry about you and Lu?”

“Yeah, she basically told me I didn’t care about her in the way she thought I had, which wasn’t true. I told her I loved her and then shit just went completely downhill after that.”

Jon’s hand squeezes Lando’s arm, “You told her you loved her?”

There’s a flash of sadness in Lando’s eyes and Jon knows it’s because of the painful rejection. He’s learning that Y/n might’ve started out as one of the people Lando cared about the least, but she had quickly become the center of his entire world.

“Of course, I did. But, she didn’t believe me. I don’t blame her too! The start of our relationship was built specifically on hatred. We never wanted anything to do with each other and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing and it was feeling like something more.”

A silence passes before Lando whispers, “Sometimes I wish I never would’ve met her.”

Jon chuckles, “You’ve said that before.”

Lando scoffs, “Yeah, but that was because I hated her. This is because I can’t deal with the fact that she left me.”

“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jon inquires, eyes roaming Lando’s face in search of an answer.

“No,” Lando responds, grief and remorse soaking his tone.

“Well, maybe that’s where you need to start.” Jon smiles.

“In order to do what?” Lando’s lost on the insinuation.

“In order to get her back.”

It’s heartbreaking the way Lando stares up at Jon as if he’d just single-handedly restored all senses of hope and happiness into his body, “You think I can do that?”

“I think that you and her loved each other too much to let it go to waste this way.”

Maybe you’re right, he thinks. Maybe I need to find out for myself, he thinks.

—

Y/n, the girl he hated so much for the love she made him feel, was locked up in her room of her childhood home, information Lando gained from her mother who he had called quietly. It was the first time they had spoken, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard of him. Her daughter had shown up in the middle of the night, sobbing to her over a boy and berating herself for allowing a man to hurt her in the way he had.

However, with the undying kindness Y/n shared, she had patiently heard Lando out as he explained to her the feelings he harbored for her daughter. Strong words of love had persuaded her into giving Lando their address and giving him permission to come. After all, she saw the way her daughter’s Lock Screen lit up with a loving picture of them every time Y/n got a notification. She clocked the picture as the room where Y/n had been hospitalized after her crash, Lando laying on the bed beside her with his arm wrapped safely around her shoulders, a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at the camera.

Bags packed and in hand, Lando stands in front of her house, hood pulled over his head with sunglasses shoved over his eyes. He takes two steps at a time, bypassing multiple steps in the process as he reaches the front door in no time.

Knocking on the wood, Lando waits patiently before the lock is turning and her mother is appearing before him. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she smiles softly at him, a smile resembling the one Y/n had adorned him with before he made her feel less than the most important person in his life.

“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you for this.” He says quietly, not wanting Y/n to hear him and get scared.

She nods at him, opening the door and letting him step in, “As much as you hurt my daughter, I think this space is effecting her worse.”

He lingers in the doorway, nerves getting to him as he stares at the steps in front of him, steps he assumes would lead him to her.

Her mother notices his eyes, “She’s up there if you want to go.”

He takes a step toward them, but takes on back and looks at her with tension in his face, “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”

Her mother’s head moves side to side, “I think, at first, she’ll be mad, but she’ll warm up. I know she still loves you, that’s still there.”

He nods, “What should I say?”

His words relay quietly and her mother lays a hesitant hand on his arm, “Why are you here? Why are you fighting for her?”

His answer comes easily, “Because I love her. Because, after years of hating each other, I realize that I never truly, fully hated her. I hated that she was better than me and the fact that she was winning races more than I was, but I never hated her. I never gave her a chance to show me who she was and it took someone forcing us to be together for me to see how amazing she is. I’m remorseful for that, of course, but I’m happy it happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have realized the happiness that was standing in front of me all along.”

Her mother smiles brightly at him, “Tell her that.”

🏎️

The door creaks as Lando pushes it open, head poking in to see her laying with her back to him.

“Mom, can I just have some time alone right now?” Her broken voice whispers, curling further into herself as Lando steps in and closes the door.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to walk over to her bed and sit down. The mattress is larger, putting space between them so he’s not touching her.

“I can hear you breathing. Please leave.” She says again, this time pleading desperately.

Lando exhales before lifting his hand and laying it on her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles lovingly. He feels her body tense, her head looking down to inspect the fingers wrapped around her skin.

She pulls away quickly, sitting up and whipping her head around to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be at the race!” She yells at him, shifting farther away from him.

He hates how tired she looks, how puffy her eye bags are from a mixture of exhaustion and tears. His body turns to completely face hers, his leg being pulled onto the bed, “Your mom gave me the address and I got the reserve driver to cover for me.”

Y/n scoffs, “Okay, why would my mother do that?”

“Because she knows I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes glaze over, iciness translating in her every move, “How would she know that?”

“I called her.” He states simply, watching her eyebrows stitch together.

Her head tilts, “How did you get her number?”

“From Nick.”

Y/n body rears back, “My trainer?! You coerced my trainer into giving you my mother’s phone number?! Are you fucking crazy?!”

“For you, yes.” He smiles softly. His comment earns an eye roll.

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begins, but Y/n raises her hands in objection.

“No, Lando. Leave me alone. I appreciate the effort, but leave.” Her hands push his arms, doing nothing to move him.

He gently takes her hands in his and shifts closer to her, “No. I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say.”

Knowing how stubborn he is, Y/n sits back and gestures for him to continue.

“When I first met you, I hated the success you had.” He starts.

Y/n laughs, “What a great start!”

“Let me finish.” He states, “I hated the success you had and I was dumb enough, young enough to think that meant I hated you too. So, I spent years resenting everything that had to do with you. I never gave myself one moment to reflect on the reasoning for my dislike of you. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now. Part of me hates that, hates that I spent so much time treating you in a way you never deserved, but another part of me, the part that has fallen so hard for you, is happy it didn’t. If I had realized that I was just jealous of the race wins you were claiming, I would’ve been cordial with you, never getting close enough to get to know who you are out of the envy I held against you. If it had gone down that way, I would’ve never gotten to meet you. And I mean the person you really are, underneath all the PR trained, guarded skin. I would’ve never fallen in love with you, never experienced you and the happiness you have provided me with. It took us so long to get here, through hurtful insults and screaming matches, I can’t let you slip through my fingers, your love with it, because of my stupid mistakes. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/n stays quiet after he completes his last sentence, staring at him as she decides what she wants to do next.

Softly, she says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lu?”

He sighs disappointedly, “I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think it meant that much. In my head, I didn’t love her. I was just ending a relationship on good terms. I didn’t think far enough to get to you. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and sit you down, explain to you what Lu and I were doing, the fact that it meant nothing compared to what I feel towards you, I would. You deserve that conversation. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I hope it does. She was never going to mean the same thing to me as she had before after I first kissed you. Truthfully, she never did mean the same thing to me as you do. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”

Y/n nods slowly, gathering her thoughts, “When did you start loving me? When did it stop being hate? Because that night at the gala, at the end of our conversation, you hated me again.”

Lando shakes his head, “First of all, I didn’t hate you that night. I was just hurt and it translated to something ugly, which I can’t apologize enough for. Second of all, I don’t know when I genuinely started loving you, but I know I realized it when you crashed. When I was running throughout the paddock, I could not get away from the heavy pit in my stomach that only pointed toward one thing, I knew that. I tried to push it away, tried to forget about it, but when I saw you laying there, bandaged and alive, it just hit me. I loved that you were still there, I loved the relief that spread through me, I loved the happiness I felt when I saw you breathing, and, then, I just loved you. It built exactly like that. I was just listing the things, in my head, I adored about the moment in order to get away from the severity of it, and then it was just you. You, you, you, you.”

Y/n’s small smile graces his eyes and he moves closer to her, sitting with his legs folded on the bed and his hands over her thighs. The two of them breathe each other in before Y/n is shuffling closer to him. His arms immediately move from her legs to snake around her torso, folding open his legs and pulling her into him. She lays her shoulder against his chest, her head falling to the side to nuzzle in his neck as her legs spread in front of her, lying over his thigh. She plays with the hem of his hoodie as he kisses her temple, laying his head on top of hers.

“You know, I love you too.” She says into his neck. A warmth spreads through Lando, happiness buzzing all the way down to his toes at her confession.

It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear, “I had an inkling.”

She lightly smacks his stomach, giggling, “Don’t be a smart ass.”

Just as he’s about to rebuttal, his phone begins vibrating harshly in his back pocket. His arm reaches around to pull it out, Jon’s face illuminating the screen.

Y/n laughs, “Can I answer it?”

The idea makes him shine with pride, knowing Jon will be proud to hear Lando’s gotten his girl back. So, he plops the phone in her lap with a smile.

Clicking the green button, Y/n puts it on speaker.

“Lando? Did you get there okay? Have you spoken to her yet?” Jon’s rushed voice says quickly.

Y/n gives Lando a playful look before answering, “He got here okay.”

There’s a silence before Jon is cackling, “AHA! IS HE THERE?! LANDO, I TOLD YOU!”

The couple laughs at his antics, Lando moving closer to the speaker to say, “I’m here and I’m starting to think I should listen to you more.”

There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone before they hear Jon screaming to, what they assume is, the entire McLaren garage, “LANDO AND Y/N, GUYS!”

Again, silence, murmuring even, before the entire room erupts in cheers. Lando can hear it’s just his crew, the group of men knowing how much it stressed Lando out to have her mad at him, the reason she was, they didn’t know.

Y/n and Lando break into tears over their laughter at the men on the other end of the phone. It’s therapeutic to see her laughing in his arms again, a sight Lando didn’t think he would see again.

She’s leaning into him as the men continue to cheer, holding him as her body racks with laughter and all he can do is hold her closer, tighter.

He holds her like she’ll leave him again if he lets go, a thought he knows is so preposterous. Because she’s got her eyes closed, blissed out in his presence and he can see the lines of tension wither away.

She’s safe with him, she shows that through the way she hugs him and softly kisses the side of his neck when he ends the call.

When the noise stops and quietness envelopes them, the couple is left with just each other. He lays them down, her body relaxing into him as she murmurs how much sleep she’s lost over their dispute.

He whispers back, “Go to sleep, then, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He watches her eyes flutter close, her head falling further into the crook of his neck when she crosses the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Lando’s not tired, however, only laying down with her because he’s not ready to let her go yet. His eyes wander around her childhood room, pictures of a toddler Y/n winning karting races and different championships. Her toothy grin is a charming sight, a look she hasn’t lost in the years of her growth since then.

After inspecting and finding nothing, but more things to love about her, Lando’s eyes avert back to her sleeping form. He brushes the hair out of her face lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against it, “At first, you weren’t what I wanted, but I absolutely need you now.”

Tags (i forgot to put these lol): @toasttt11 @megumilovesme @the-untamed-soul @evieepepi08 @igotnorrrizz @im-an-overthinker @cxrlha @ssrcsm @landoslover @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @louvpdf @weasleyreidstyles @ushygushybaby @theycallmeahugger @sainzluvrr @itsjustaninchident @gavisuntiedboot @gracielukey @formula1mount @cjjydes282clo @ssararuffoni @aexitizen

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends. 

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts. 

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that. 

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else. 

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend. 

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it. 

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam. 

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end. 

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly. 

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?” 

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.” 

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.  

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer. 

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.” 

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?” 

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?” 

“Going away party?” 

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.” 

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?” 

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.” 

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot. 

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants. 

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.” 

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter. 

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--” 

“Sam,” you drone. 

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head. 

“Never said otherwise.” 

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.” 

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers. 

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.” 

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone. 

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest. 

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York. 

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life? 

It doesn’t matter, does it? 

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out. 

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh. 

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world. 

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end. 

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong? 

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know. 

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.  

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt. 

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.  

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee. 

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night. 

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit. 

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands. 

“What is this?” You snicker. 

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!” 

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much. 

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.” 

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.” 

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.” 

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots. 

“You guys,” you breathe. 

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.” 

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs. 

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--” 

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?” 

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?” 

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs. 

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?” 

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens. 

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.” 

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.” 

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.” 

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.” 

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t expect--” 

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you. 

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool. 

“He’s not coming,” you utter. 

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.” 

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.” 

“Asshole,” Sam sneers. 

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--” 

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.” 

“Really, it’s not--” 

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?” 

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.” 

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.” 

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up. 

“Alright, I got it.” 

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.” 

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully. 

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say. 

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.” 

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!” 

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.” 

“What?” You hiss. 

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.” 

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.” 

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.” 

“You two,” you roll your eyes. 

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.” 

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really? 

“Money?” You wonder. 

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.” 

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation... 

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.” 

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--” 

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.” 

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest. 

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls. 

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles. 

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him. 

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.” 

[katelynnwrites]

What Would You Do, Baby, If You Only Knew? (That I Can See You) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: not proof read 😅

word count: 5618

summary: you don’t think feli can see you but she can…what would you do if you only knew?

a/n: requested and based off taylor swift’s i can see you 🥰

You’re used to hiding behind the lens of a camera.

It started as a hobby when you were growing up, a way for you to capture moments you didn’t want to forget. It allowed you to be involved in whatever was going on while still staying true to your quiet and shy personality.

Years later and that hasn’t changed even though you have managed to turn your hobby into a full time career.

Working as a professional sports photographer, you have the once in a lifetime opportunity to meet elite athletes and watch them be at the top of the game, all the while living your childhood dream.

You love it and now that you are working for VfL Wolfsburg, you’re enjoying your life even more. Germany is a fascinating country and you are privileged to be able to photograph as many parts of it as you’re able to on your off days.

The staff members of the German football club, your fellow colleagues are lovely and the players you are tasked to photograph are even more so.

They’re a funny, charismatic lot that have absolutely no hesitation in trying to draw you into their chaos.

While you do appreciate their efforts, you are happier watching them enjoy themselves than when you’re actually participating.

Though in the aftermath of a huge win against Bayern, their joy is infectious and it’s the reason why you have a soft grin on your face as you look through the viewfinder of your camera.

As you snap away, trying to catch as many smiling faces in the ongoing locker room party as you can, you revel in the satisfying clicks of your camera shutter.

A few of the players are going out of their way to pose for you, their antics making you laugh as you continue to capture their raw happiness.

Though there is one particular face that you can’t help searching for.

You know that you’re not supposed to be biased, that you are meant to be taking photos of all the players equally but you just can’t seem to help how your camera unconsciously finds one Felicitas Rauch.

It has always been that way with you, from the very first moment you arrived at a training session.

You were introduced to the team and then left alone to start your new job and take photos of them training.

Feli’s big smile, one that seems almost too big for her face at times had quickly become your favourite sight.

Through the nature of your skillset, you’ve seen a lot of pretty things but you’re certain that the word pretty doesn’t do the German fullback justice.

She’s absolutely beautiful. The kind of beautiful that steals the very air out of your lungs.

You know fullbacks are rarely recognised and appreciated for the work they do but you can see Felicitas. You are convinced that she deserves more attention and you hope your photos of her help put her in a bigger spotlight.

You can see her now, as she celebrates with Svenja, pulling the older woman into a tight hug.

Diligently, you snap away with your camera, capturing the heartfelt moment. You know that both players are close and as you glance briefly at the resulting photos on your camera’s small digital screen, you know that they will appreciate you saving the memory for them.

As you discreetly leave the locker room, along with a few other staff members who want to give the players’ their own little bubble, to celebrate as a team, you resolve to look through your photos at a later time and send them to the respective players to keep or to post on their social medias if they felt like it.

It is that thought of your work that distracts you from catching the smile on Feli’s face dim.

She wants you to stay and wonders what she has to do for you to do so.

You’re the team’s photographer and to her, staff members are just as much part of the team as the players are. In her mind, there is only one team and that means that you are entitled to celebrating the win, like any player is. You don’t have to leave early.

Felicitas wants to get to know you better, your tendency to hide behind your camera intriguing her.

She’s attracted to you because of her curiosity but also because she thinks you are too gorgeous to be constantly ducking away from attention.

It’s too bad that you’ve put away any thought of anyone, let alone someone like Feli Rauch being interested in you.

You indulge in daydreams sometimes but you’re confident in the fact that they would only ever remain as figments of your imagination because you have long since assumed that you would spend your life alone.

It is just in your nature.

From a young age, you developed the belief that you are too introverted and too much like a wallflower to be noticed.

You’ve made your peace with it and are content with the life you lead.

If only you knew that Felicitas is planning to turn all that upside down. She can see you and she’s planning on making you well aware of it.

******

It starts when you send her the photos you’ve taken.

In your hotel room, you send each player every photo they are in after reviewing your camera roll and editing some of its contents.

All the players respond with their thanks and this isn’t new. It gives you a warm feeling inside, knowing that they are grateful for your hard work.

You’re just beginning to turn in for the night when there is a knock on your hotel room door.

That is new and surprise is evident on your face when you open it to see Feli standing outside.

She’s clearly dressed for bed, in an old Germany hoodie and shorts. The pair of glasses she is wearing makes your thoughts go straight to how cute she looks.

There’s no camera for you to hide your blush behind and Feli smiles as she notices.

‘W-What are you doing here?’ You stammer, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.

‘I just wanted to say thank you in person.’ Felicitas shrugs easily.

‘Oh. Well you’re welcome.’

Your cheeks flush even redder and the German fullback’s smile widens.

She reaches out to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear and you freeze at the feel of her fingertips on your skin.

It’s an unexpectedly affectionate gesture that results in your breath audibly catching.

Feli is paying close attention to you and she notes that down immediately.

As you make no move to back away, Felicitas savours how soft your hair feels against her fingers.

‘You look beautiful with your hair down and especially so when you’re blushing. Have a good night.’ She whispers and then she’s gone before you can blink.

You stare at the empty corridor for a moment, unconsciously bringing your hand up to brush against the side of your cheek, right where moments ago, Feli had touched you.

It was only for a few brief seconds and if not for the way your heart is racing, you would be sure you had imagined the whole thing.

As it is, you can hardly believe that it’s not a dream because Feli being even remotely interested in you seems far too good to be true.

******

Feli is intent on making you believe it.

She has been watching you for ages and spending her time trying not to feel it.

It’s nearly impossible for her though, especially when you brush past her in the hallway outside the locker room.

Your hair isn’t tied up like it usually is and it’s the knowledge that her words have clearly had an effect on you that makes her want to learn everything about you.

The tiny bit of physical contact that she had made with you the other night has made her crave more.

She knows exactly how much she sees you, how she’s always been intrigued by you but now she knows that it goes beyond that.

The German fullback wants you. She truly wants you to see yourself the way she sees you.

So what would you do if she went to touch you now?

******

Felicitas starts off small.

As the team is going through their cooling down exercises, Feli jogs up to you. She lightly nudges her arm against yours, startling you slightly and making you nearly drop your camera.

‘Sorry.’ The older woman mumbles sheepishly.

‘It’s okay.’

You readjust your camera and then look up at her.

‘Do you need something?’

‘Not exactly. Can I borrow your camera though? I promise I’ll be careful with it.’

You hesitate. Your camera is precious to you and if it was anyone else, you would have said no straight away.

But it’s Feli Rauch asking.

The particular piece of equipment that you are holding has been with you since your career started. It isn’t just expensive but also holds an enormous amount of meaning to you personally.

You have a number of cameras but this is the one you cherish the most.

‘I’ll stay right next to you the entire time. I just want to try being half as good as you and take photos of the team.’ Felicitas pleads.

You soften and gingerly hand your camera over, making sure that the fullback puts the camera strap on.

‘Danke.’ Feli excitedly says.

She turns towards you and takes a photo immediately.

‘Felicitas what are you doing?’

‘Taking photos of my team. Which includes you.’ She explains, continuing to snap away.

Blushing furiously, you drop your gaze down towards the ground.

‘Hey don’t do that. Your eyes are too pretty to be hidden like that.’

Feli uses her finger to gently tilt your chin upwards, allowing her gorgeous brown eyes to meet yours.

You are speechless and you don’t know if it’s because of her sincere compliment or because of the physical contact.

‘Smile for me.’ The older woman prompts and you do as she asks.

‘See? Like I told you before, you’re beautiful.’ Felicitas murmurs as she shows you the photos she’s just taken.

You shyly thank her and Feli laughs softly.

‘No problem. Want to give me some tips before I try taking photos of our other teammates?’

‘Yeah.’ You nod, always eager to talk about your passion.

You show Feli the basics and then she stands beside you as she takes her photos.

Her fellow players are more than happy to be her subjects and Felicitas has them in fits of giggles as she yells out her instructions.

You can’t help but join in, sharing their laughter.

******

When Feli finally returns your camera, it’s as she promised. In perfect working condition, without a single scratch on it.

She had taken the utmost care with it, correctly inferring how much the device means to you from your earlier hesitation.

‘Thank you. Really. I had a great time learning from you.’ Feli says, her eyes practically shining.

‘It’s no problem. I had fun too.’ You tell her.

‘I can see why you love photography so much. There’s just something special about looking through the lens and having the ability to capture the moment.’

Your eyes widen in surprise. Not many people get why you love photography so much let alone when they are only just beginning to know you.

‘I’m glad you understand.’ You breathe.

Now it’s the German fullback’s turn to blush, her cheeks being dusted a light pink.

You are in awe of the fact that you’ve made a woman so out of your league blush and that gives you a little burst of confidence.

Confidence that leads you to blurt out, ‘Do you want to look over the photos you’ve taken with me? I usually go over all the photos and do some editing before I send them out.’

Felicitas looks delighted.

‘Yeah. I would love that.’

******

That’s how you end up at Feli’s apartment.

You had planned on doing your work in your usual cafe but the Wolfsburg player insisted on inviting you over, saying that it’s the least she can do after you had so generously lent her your camera and given her an impromptu photography lesson.

No matter how many times you said that she didn’t owe you anything, Feli had refused to take no for an answer.

So you get to meet Cinnamon.

The older woman’s brown poodle is an absolute darling and you can’t resist taking a couple of photos of her.

Of course you seek Feli’s permission first and she more than happily gives you the go ahead, on the condition that you send her all the photos.

This you fulfill easily and Felicitas gushes over how cute you’ve made her dog look in them, like Cinny needs any help looking adorable.

She bends down to show Cinnamon the photos on her phone and your heart flutters at the sight.

Be professional, you chide yourself. You have absolutely no right to be thinking about how attractive Feli looks.

It’s a struggle but by the time the older woman straightens back up, you’ve succeeded a tiny bit.

Felicitas smiles, unaware of your internal struggle as she directs you over to her couch.

‘This okay?’ She checks and you nod.

You let her sit down first and cautiously ensure that there is a sufficient amount of space between the both of you before you settle down.

It’s enough of a distance to make you feel safer.

Rather self consciously, you begin the motions of a well practiced routine, taking the memory card out of your camera and inserting it into your laptop.

‘Wow that’s a lot.’ Felicitas breathes as she takes in just how many photos there are.

You chuckle and look closer, scrolling down till you find Feli’s collection of photos.

Clicking past the few she had taken of you, you turn your laptop screen towards her so that she can see her work.

They’re actually quite good.

You fix a few details, cropping some and editing the lighting in others, all the while explaining to Feli what you are doing and why you’re doing it.

Feli watches you in silence, paying rapt attention to everything you are doing.

It’s very clear that you know what you’re talking about and she is quickly becoming obsessed with the very sound of your voice.

She must be staring too obviously because you catch her.

‘Felicitas? Are you okay?’ You nervously ask.

The German player shifts closer to you and her close proximity has your heart rate increasing.

‘Felicitas.’ You breathe and something in her brown eyes changes.

It makes you anxious but all that anxiety disappears when the fullback carefully reaches out to cup your face with one hand, her thumb brushing across your cheekbone.

‘Tell me to stop and I will.’ She softly says.

You open your mouth but no words come out. You’re completely and utterly captivated by her.

‘Tell me to stop and I will.’ Feli repeats, even more quietly as she cautiously closes the distance between the both of you.

Her intentions are clear and you can’t tell her to stop.

She fervently searches your face for any sign that you don’t want this. That you don’t want her as badly as she wants you.

The brunette doesn’t find anything because you do. You want her so incredibly much, more than you’ve ever wanted anything.

When you say nothing, Feli practically brightens with hope and gently presses her lips onto yours.

You gasp into her mouth and respond eagerly.

Feli smiles against you and picks up her pace.

Enthusiastically, she slides her free hand into your hair and she lightly pushes you down, so that your back meets her couch.

Your laptop is long forgotten and you barely register the thump that it makes as it slips off your lap and onto the carpeted floor.

The older woman takes advantage of the newly created space and swings her leg over your body, so that she’s straddling you.

You moan at the feel of her hips against yours.

The soft noise further encourages Felicitas who having drawn back slightly to breathe is kissing you again. This time without holding back.

Her fingers tug none too gently on your hair eliciting a groan from you as you slip your free hands up and under Feli’s shirt.

Your heart skips a beat when you feel the goosebumps that form under your touch. It spurs you on and you continue exploring her body, trying your best to memorise the way her muscles flex as you do so.

Feli moans your name when your fingertips smooth across her abs.

If she hadn’t drawn you in before that, she has now because you’ll do anything to hear it again.

******

When you leave Feli’s apartment, it’s with kiss swollen lips and tangled hair.

As Felicitas sees you out, she pulls you flush against her and brings her lips down to meet yours one more time.

‘For good measure.’ She winks before gently pushing you out and closing her door, leaving you a flustered mess.

******

You’re barely in your car when your phone chimes with a notification.

It’s Feli tagging you in an Instagram post, featuring the photos she’d taken of you earlier. Photos that you had sent her after your impromptu makeout session.

The post is captioned, ‘I can see you.’

It is followed by a winky face emoji that causes you to blush all over again.

******

You wait at the end of the hallway, outside the locker room for the older woman.

When she does emerge, she saunters over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.

‘Hello.’ She murmurs, kissing the top of your head just once.

‘Hi.’ You answer, with a breath of relief.

It still amazes you that Felicitas pays attention to you. That she sees you.

Then Felicitas does what she’s been thinking about since she saw you waiting down the hall.

She ducks into the first empty room she notices and tugs you in with her.

Your yelp of surprise is silenced by her lips on yours, the bruising kiss that she gifts you with making you weak in the knees.

It’s perfectly as she visualised, the shocked look on your face as she pins you up against the wall before you melt into her, completely and utterly willing to let her do as she pleases.

The way you look at her is nothing short of reverence and Felicitas knows that she will never take advantage of you. Not when she is beginning to look at you in the same manner.

******

Feli keeps everything professional and you try your best to do the same but something’s changed.

She can’t stop herself from showing her newfound affection towards you. She smiles at you all the time and you cannot help but capture all of those little moments through the lens of your camera.

In the back of her mind, from her spot on the training field, she is always thinking about you.

Constantly, she can feel your eyes on her and it makes her smile in your direction.

It is getting to the point where your camera roll is made up almost entirely of her. You’re simply unable to tear your eyes away from the phenomenon that is Feli Rauch.

******

It’s not just you that is keeping a watchful eye on Feli or just Felicitas that is keeping a watchful eye on you.

The rest of the team is too.

The older woman has picked up on this and she moves fast and quiet.

You won’t believe half of the things she sees inside her head, the things she’s hoping she’ll get to experience with you by her side.

She wants more than just stolen kisses, more than just your hands exploring her body in the dark. Felicitas desperately wants it all to be out in the light of day.

She wants to be able to kiss you whenever she can, just because she can. She wants to be able to do so in front of everyone, regardless of who they are.

The fullback simply wants to show the world how truly, madly and deeply her feelings run for you.

Felicitas hopes you stick around and wait to see these things happen.

She’s willing them to happen so badly.

There are a few things that she is wondering now though.

******

One, what would you do if she went to touch you now?

She is looking for a certain kind of physical touch now, not just the simple, casual touch of friends. Feli is searching for much more than that.

You’re not in her hotel room so she seeks you out. For this particular away game, the players are rooming on the floor above the staff.

When Feli makes it down to your floor and knocks on your door, she’s taken aback by how fast you open it.

‘Hey…’ You breathlessly greet her.

‘Hi. Are you going somewhere?’ Felicitas cautiously asks.

If you have plans, she doesn’t want to disrupt them despite the obvious disappointment that she is already beginning to feel at being unable to spend time with you.

It is a good thing then, that the only reason you were leaving your room was to find her.

You tell her that and the older woman can’t stop the big smile that is forming on her face.

That expression does not leave even as she rests her hands on your hips and pushes you lightly back into your room.

You offer no resistance and are in fact happily following her lead.

That’s question number one answered in the German woman’s mind.

******

Two, what would you do if they never found us out?

They in this case refer to her teammates and your boss.

While there aren’t any rules about players and staff fraternisation, you and Feli do not want to be the reason that there are.

Hence why the both of you are trying to keep your budding relationship on the down low.

It’s not really working, despite your’s and Felicitas’ best efforts because the two of you are far too smitten with each other.

The heart eyes, the lingering touches and most of all, the way you both just seem to gravitate towards each other.

So while no one explicitly says anything, the suggestive looks and teasing comments are all it takes to let you and Feli know that the two of you are not as subtle as you had both hoped to be.

The fullback watches you carefully for any sign that you mind when one of your teammates brings it up but she doesn’t find any.

This somewhat answers question number two for her because it wasn’t you who made the decision to draw the team’s attention to the both of you. It had simply happened, out of your control but nevertheless does not seem to be bothering you.

Felicitas can’t build up enough courage to ask you outright so this will have to be enough for now.

******

Three, what would you do if we never made a sound?

Felicitas’ grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure she is going to leave bruises behind.

Not that you care because it is going to be a nice addition to the collection of marks she has already littered your body with.

You are trying your best to stay silent, knowing that the walls of this particular hotel are thin. There are players resting in the next room and you don’t want to disturb them but when Feli’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but cry out her name in pleasure.

The brunette pulls back immediately.

‘What happened to being quiet? You don’t want our friends to hear us do you?’

‘No…’ You shakily whisper.

‘Then try harder.’ Feli firmly instructs, although the teasing edge to her voice tells you that she isn’t angry at all.

It causes the tiny hope that you have been harbouring to blossom. Maybe Felicitas wouldn’t care if all this sneaking around comes to an end. Maybe she even wants the whole secret to unravel.

And when Feli is far too good at demonstrating precisely how well she has come to know your body…an impressive amount in the short time you have been playing this ‘What are we?’ game, the both of you are subjected to a relentless amount of good natured mocking at breakfast, the morning after.

In particular from Lynn and Sveindis who had been roomed next to you and Feli all night.

The Wolfsburg player knows the answer to question number three now because as the rest of the team pokes fun at the pair of you, you endure it all with a soft smile on your face.

Felicitas can’t help but slip her hand into yours under the table.

******

When Wolfburg qualifies for the Champions League final, you’re beyond ecstatic and so are the players.

You eagerly take photos of all their celebrations, till a certain brunette pulls you headfirst into them.

‘Feli! Feli I’m working!’ You protest but the older woman doesn’t listen.

She takes a moment to check that your camera is properly secured by its strap around your body before she easily picks you up and spins you around.

The small action makes your heart fill with even more emotion for her. You adore the fact that she cares enough about your love of photography to extend it to your equipment.

Your breathless laughter rings out across the field and your heart is light.

When Felicitas sets you down, her brown eyes are sparkling under the stadium lights and her hands are resting firmly on your waist.

You can see her in her bright green kit and messy bun, loose strands of hair falling into her face.

In that moment, you know that she couldn't care less about what anyone thinks. Not the club staff, her fellow players or even her fans.

She just wants to know what you think.

‘Are you happy?’ Feli whispers.

Her thumb strokes gently against your waist, over the material of your shirt as she speaks. She keeps her voice low, wanting you to know that her words meant just for you.

‘Incredibly so.’ You murmur, making sure that your voice is soft because you want her to know that your answer is meant only for her ears too.

‘Good.’ The fullback breathes and leans her forehead against yours lightly.

She inhales and exhales and you do the same, commiting the moment to memory.

You have your eyes closed so you depend on all your other senses. The cheers of the crowd, the warm feel of Feli’s hands, her steady breathing and how she smells.

Sweaty because she’s spent the last ninety minutes running around but also underneath all that, she smells like her lavender shampoo.

And you’re enamoured with it and her.

‘I know you’ve got to get back to work but will you wait for me after? Please?’

It’s a quiet, nearly timid request and one that you are more than happy to fulfill.

‘Of course.’ You nod your agreement and the German woman grins.

‘See you soon my shutterbug.’

She kisses your cheek quickly and then runs off towards the other Wolfsburg players before you have time to process the nickname or her public display of affection.

******

Your camera bag is slung around your shoulder and you anxiously fiddle with a crease in your shirt as you wait for Feli down the hall. It’s a familiar situation but you’re unusually nervous tonight.

In between a glance down at your shirt and and back at the locker room door, the brunette is right in front of you.

She doesn’t even bother saying hello, choosing to pin you up against the wall and kiss you senseless.

Her hands cradle your face and she pours all her emotion into her affectionate gestures.

Your legs give out and Felicitas presses your back harder into the solid surface behind you as she supports your weight.

‘Feli.’ You pant when she finally breaks the kiss to breathe.

‘Felicitas.’

It’s a single plaintive word that falls from your lips and the fullback tilts her head in a silent question.

‘We have an audience.’

Her mouth falls open in a ‘o’ shape and she turns around to see what is practically the entire team standing behind her with big cheesy grins.

‘Something you two want to share with the class?’ Svenja teases.

Feli simply rolls her eyes and despite the blush on her cheeks, kisses you soundly once more.

Lena’s and Sveindis’ cheers of, ‘Get your girl!’, fade into the background because all at once, Felicitas Rauch is not only at the forefront of your mind but is the only thing on your mind.

You won’t ever tell about how she kisses you because everyone can see the effect she has on you.

She’s your addiction.

******

The brunette fullback’s secret mission is not so secret.

Not to her family, her fellow players both club and national and her fans.

Especially when the first thing she does upon arriving back in Wolfsburg from national camp is to show up on your doorstep.

You end up going with Feli to pick up Cinny from her dogsitter and the older woman decides to be the photographer for a change.

The photo that she uploads onto her Instagram is one of you holding Cinnamon on your lap, in the passenger seat of her car.

It’s captioned, ‘My shutterbug and my poodle.’

Feli’s mission is to show you that you are seen and when the post blows up, it’s evident that you are

You are seen not only by Felicitas but by the world.

******

Leaning against the door frame of your apartment, you hear the tell tale sound of someone approaching.

You hope it’s who you have been waiting for and when a particular, one of a kind defender rounds the corner of the hallway, a smile lights up your face.

Feli’s heart just about bursts with all the affection she holds for you, when her eyes meet yours.

You’re wearing one of her sweatshirts that she must have left behind by accident.

On you, the article of clothing is too big and you have the sleeves bunched up to your elbows.

You self consciously pull at one side of it when Feli keeps staring at you, murmuring a soft, ‘What?’

‘You’re just so adorable.’ The brunette says, stepping into your space with a little smile.

Your cheeks turn pink and Felicitas gently places her hands on them.

‘I love it when you blush for me.’ She adds quietly, before she slants her lips down over yours.

Any embarrassment that you might be feeling about your reaction quickly vanishes.

Felicitas kissing you is all that matters and though she has been doing that a lot recently, you are never going to get tired of it. The butterflies that come alive in your stomach each and every time are never going to get tired of it.

As the brunette makes no effort to slow down, you correctly infer her intentions and pull her into your apartment.

Felicitas smirks when you lock the door, giving in to temptation and pushing you up against it.

‘This feels like a familiar situation.’ You breathlessly tease.

‘I don’t see you complaining.’ She cockily states.

You laugh, tugging on the collar of her jacket.

‘Off please.’

As hard as you try, your words betray just how desperate you are.

And Felicitas knows it.

That almost annoying smirk of hers is back on her face but the brunette obliges, throwing her jacket on the floor.

Your clothes and the rest of hers soon follow.

You didn’t even know it was possible but the way she is looking at you is making you want her even more.

******

Soft, feather-like kisses are what you are scattering all over Feli’s back.

You smile against her skin and now it’s the older woman’s turn to blush.

Idly, you move on to trace an aimless pattern onto her exposed shoulders.

Your fingers are gentle and everywhere your touch goes, Feli’s skin tingles.

‘Meine liebe.’ She breathes, completely and utterly taken by you.

‘What did you say?’ You ask, wondering if you had heard wrongly.

Your German isn’t all that good but there is no mistaking the tone of her confession.

With wide eyes, you keep looking at the woman who is lying with her head in your lap, your sheets pulled messily around her bare body.

Feli sits up, tenderly taking you into her arms.

‘Be mine.’

Her brown eyes are shining and her voice trembles slightly.

‘Felicitas, are you asking me to marry you?’

‘No! N-Not yet at least. Just be my girlfriend now and maybe in a few years I’ll be asking you to be my wife.’ She stammers.

Her hands reach out to cover yours and the reassuring weight of them, as well as the warmth they provide you are all the encouragement you need.

You lean in to kiss her ardently and Feli sighs, both in happiness and relief.

‘That’s a yes then? Please let that be a yes. I can see you. I promise I see all of you and I love each and every part.’ She asks, as soon as you two pull apart to catch your respective breaths.

The smile on your face is one you swear that only Feli can bring out in you.

‘Yes. It’s a yes because I love you too.’

German Translations:

danke - thank you

meine liebe - my love

[allbark-no-bite]

the night shift.

jake seresin x bradley bradshaw (wc: 3k)

summary: jake’s a cop working the night shift and pulls over a mildly drunk (and very interested) firefighter. chaos ensues.

warnings: mature, *driving while under the influence of alcohol, some sexual references

*if this bothers you, just don’t read, simple as that. you don’t have to come into my inbox to tell me that it bothers you <3

author’s note: i’ve never written anything faster in my entire like. this was so much fun! i came across this post again and couldn’t let it go. all credit to @squiddosss for their amazing artwork

————————————————————————

It's slow nights like these that make Jake question why he prefers the night shift.

The gravel of the lonely backroad crunches beneath the tires of his cruiser as he makes the curve and slowly pulls to a stop. The sirens on his cruiser give one last whoop before he shuts them off. The back of the beat up vintage blue Bronco gleams in the shine of his headlights. He sighs and shifts the car into park before he tips his radio towards his mouth and mumbles his whereabouts, informing Javy that he's making a traffic stop.

"10-4. Keep me updated."

He climbs out of the cruiser and makes his way towards the vehicle, keeping one thumb tucked into the front of his belt, fingers ready to reach for his gun in an instant. The diver hadn't given him any trouble thus far other than what he had pulled him over for— swerving all over the road, but Jake had been trained to err on the side of caution. He runs his finger tips over the tail light as he passes it by, a habit he had picked up from working alone.

For being such an old model, the car is in pretty decent shape. It has what appears to be brand new tires and the powder blue paint job has been restored to perfection. It was obviously well cared for. He wonders briefly the story behind it being as he doubts you could buy such a car these days. This was the kind of car that you handed down.

The window rolls down just as Jake approaches it.

"How's it goin' Officer?"

Jake blinks.

The driver is a younger guy, probably close to his own age— Jake likes to think that thirty-one is still plenty young— with shoulders so broad that it's a wonder he even fits in the front seat. His skin is a dark olive, which is pretty typical for someone who lives around here, but what catches Jake's attention the most is the perfectly groomed mustache the guy is sporting on his upper lip. It's thick and matches the caramel color of his otherwise brunette head of hair.

"Is there something wrong?"

The guy smiles and his dusty rose lips frame his perfectly aligned white teeth.

Jake tells himself it's his job to notice these kinds of things.

Jake clears his throat and leans in to peer into the cab of the truck, doing his best to avoid the lingering stare of the guy's warm hazel eyes. When he's satisfied that there's nothing worthy of his immediate attention in the car, Jake focuses back on him.

"Can I get your license and registration?"

It takes him a moment of fumbling around in his glove box and then his pocket, but he hands both documents over. The guy watches him so intently while Jake reads over them that it almost makes him uncomfortable, and he's glad for the excuse to look away.

"You had much to drink tonight, Bradley?" Jake asks as his eyes skim over the name. Bradley Peter Bradshaw. He almost laughs. If Jake didn't know better, he'd think it was a fake.

Jake knows the answer before he asks it but he figures he'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He doesn't necessarily reek of alcohol but Jake can defiantly pick up the fermented smell of yeast on his breath. If the guy hadn't been staring at him so intently and Jake could look at him for longer than two seconds, he's sure his pupils would be dilated as well.

"Just a little, Officer. I'm sobered up now."

Jake has to hold back his disbelieving snort. If he had a dime for every time he heard that, he'd be rich. "Well, Bradley. I find that a little hard to believe. You were all over this back road here. You know you're only supposed to drive on the right side, right?"

Bradley's mouth twitches, as if he found Jake's comment more amusing rather than condescending. "I didn't, but I'll sure take your word for it."

Jake, on the other hand, doesn't share his humor. "You seem like a funny guy, Bradley. But unfortunately, I don't find drunk driving to be very funny."

And then his eyes land on the emblem on Bradley's navy blue t-shirt—N.I.F.D. —the one his swollen biceps are nearly bursting out of.

"You work for North Island Fire Department?"

Jake watches as Bradley's slightly drunk grin widens. "I sure do."

Jake hands him back his license and the rest of his paperwork. "I've got a couple friends down at the station. You know Trace, Fitch?"

If his pupils weren't already blown wide, Jake would say they lit up in recognition. "Yeah, actually. Natasha is the one who got me the job there. I just finished a deployment out in the Pacific."

It's then that Jake notices the dog tags looped around his thick neck and hidden beneath his shirt. "You're enlisted," Jake says aloud, and then to conceal his surprise follows with, "I was too."

That's the kind of thing that you do when you're eighteen and more scared of not living than dying. If anything it was exciting. Anything that meant getting the hell out of Texas was exciting. He misses it now, but at the time when he was standing alone in that recruiters office, he didn't think for a moment that he would. He felt like a man.

The navy made him a man, is what his daddy said. It was probably one of the only times the old bastard ever told him he was proud of him, and the only time he didn't feel bad for making his mama cry.

The reason he got out was for the reason most do. You realize you don't stay twenty forever and life doesn't wait around until you figure that out. He didn't want to retire one day and have nothing to come home to but an empty apartment. San Diego seemed as good of a place to settle down as any.

Javy's voice crackles through on the radio strapped to his chest, breaking up their conversation.

"Unit-16. Checking in on your traffic stop. You need back-up?"

He hadn't realized they'd been talking so long. Jake mentally reprimands himself for getting distracted and picks up the radio while pressing it to his mouth. "This is Unit-16. No back-up necessary. Over."

"10-4. Over."

Jake releases the radio and looks back up to Bradley. Get back on task, Jake. Bradley smiles coyly at him. Jesus, focus, Jake.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out the vehicle."

The hopeful look in Bradley's big hazel eyes falters.

"Look, Officer uh— " The Bradley leans towards his open window so that he can squint at the gold engraved name plate on Jake's uniform. "—Seresin." Jake watches as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he cocks his head a little to the side and smiles, looking up at Jake. "You look good."

Oh. Oh.

That's what this is all about.

It's then that Jake realizes that this guy has been flirting him the entire time. He'll admit it's not the first time someone's hit on him while on the clock. Jake is aware he's an attractive guy, it's just that this is the first time he's been tasked with turning down at very handsome, drunk stranger. But drunk or not, the compliment makes his cheeks burn. Jake prays that the red and blue lights of his cruiser are enough to conceal the way his face flushes.

Ignoring him, Jake grabs the door handle of the Bronco and tugs it open. "C'mon, pal. Outta the car."

A little begrudgingly, Bradley slowly steps out of the car. Jake doesn't miss the way he grabs onto the door to steady himself.

Now that he's out of the car and in the beam of his headlights, Jake gets a good look at him. Bradley is over six feet of lean tan muscle. His long legs are encased in blue jeans that fit a bit too snug around his narrow waist, but from there he only gets wider all the way up to his shoulders. He's got some height on Jake and if he weren't in shape himself, Jake would probably be a little intimidated.

Jake steps up to him. "Go ahead and turn around for me. Put your hands flat on the hood."

For a moment Jake thinks he isn't going to listen, but then Bradley smirks a little and does as he's told. "Normally I'd ask you to buy me dinner first, but whatever you say, Officer."

This time Jake is glad that he's turned around. He steps forward and uses one of his feet to knock Bradley's legs a little further apart so that he can pat him down. He's not surprised to find that there's nothing on him, but he always has to check.

"Are you always this forward, Bradley? Or just when you're drunk?"

"No, sir," Bradley promises him, refusing to flinch even as Jake's hands come dangerously close to his crotch. "Just when the officer is nice to look at."

Jake pulls away as Bradley turns around. He specifically remembers telling him to keep his hands flat on the cruiser but Jake is getting the impression that Bradley doing something that could hurt either one of them isn't something he needs to worry about so he lets it go. Typically a stupid decision but he trusts his gut.

Bradley leans back just slightly to prop himself up against the car and crosses his arms in front of his chest while giving Jake a smile. His big brown eyes are warm and dopey, his smile impish.

"You gonna cut me some slack?" he asks.

Habitually, Jake curls his fingers through the front of his belt. The familiar weight of his kevlar vest is heavy and comforting and somehow he finds that it settles his fluttering heart in his chest.

"You know it's considered an offense to flirt with an officer?" Jake tells him, trying to remain professional and stand his ground. If his eyes drop to observe the way the other man's pecks fill out his t-shirt, that's his business.

Bradley smiles, ducking his head a little abashedly. Jake doesn't miss the way his teeth release the pout of his bottom lip. "Does that apply to when you're off duty as well?"

Jake pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from smiling. It's not funny, and he shouldn't be flattered by the advances of a drunk stranger but he is. And maybe he does have some sympathy for the guy. He knows what it's like coming back to the states and trying to adjust back to civilian life. But that doesn't mean that he's above the law.

"Bradley," he begins, his voice firm but sympathetic. "You know you can't be driving around like this. As much as I'd like to, I can't let you go."

As far as he's concerned, Bradley doesn't seem to be hearing him at all.

"Y'know, of all the places I imagined myself being handcuffed, none of them were in the back of a cop car."

"Jesus Christ," Jake mutters, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Really, he has no words. "Okay, that's enough," he announces, giving up on getting Bradley to actually take this seriously. "Turn around for me."

Smiling as if feeling a little too pleased with himself, Bradley obediently shuffles around so that Jake can then walk up behind him and clasp his wrists together. He uses his other hand to retrieve his cuffs from his belt and clips them on.

They're a little tight but that's only because Bradley's broad shoulders prevent his wrists from fully meeting, his shoulder blades seemingly obstructed by the wide expanse of his back.

Jake is definitely not staring. 

If the cuffs are uncomfortable, Bradley doesn't say anything, and Jake walks him by one of his elbows to the cruiser.

"Watch your head," Jake instructs him as he opens the door for Bradley to step in. It's a tight fit but somehow he manages, scooting over the seat until he's sat in the middle, his long legs spread to either side in order to accommodate them. The denim of his jeans strain at the awkwardness of the angle and gives Jake a front row view of the bugle of his crotch.

Jake clears his throat, looking away. If it were for the fact that he was drunk, Jake would say he's doing it on purpose.

Before Jake can shut the door and leave with what little is left of his self preservation, Bradley's voice stops him.

"Wait, what about my car?"

When Jake leans down to poke his head into the backseat of the cruiser, the look on Bradley's face is actually concerned. That's a first, Jake thinks. "I'll call someone to tow it. It'll be impounded until you can come and pick it up from the station." When the worry on Bradley's face only increases, his mustache emphasizing the action, he follows with, "They'll take good care of it for you, I promise."

Bradley's eyes flicker to the old Bronco anxiously. "It's just that it's my dad's car. He, um, he died when I was a kid. So, y'know..." he explains, trailing off.

Of fucking course it is.

Jake sighs, hangs his head in defeat for a second, and then looks back into the car at Bradley. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. Promise me we won't meet like this again and I won't have them tow your car. You can just come get it in the morning."

Bradley grins. "Well I'd certainly like to meet you under different circumstances."

Jake slams the door shut.

The drive back into town is quiet. When he glances at the clock on his dashboard, he realizes he only has about an hour left to his shift. As he pulls into the little suburban neighborhood, having memorized the address on Bradley's license, he glances into the backseat through his rear view mirror.

At first he thinks that Bradley's knocked out in the backseat, head lulled back as he breathes slow and steady, but then he sees the whites of his hazel eyes illuminated by the occasional red and blue flash of his overhead lights. Their gazes meet through the mirror and the corner of Bradleys mouth lifts up in a half drunk smile. Jake shifts his gaze away to instead peer at the numbers on the houses. Finally he finds the address he's looking for and slows the cruiser as he pulls into the driveway.

He brings the car to a stop and slides out of the driver's seat, walking around the car to open up the side door. Bradley stares at him quizzically from the backseat.

"C'mon, hop out before I change my mind," Jake prompts, gesturing with his head for Bradley to get a move on. The tall brunette climbs out with as much ease as one can muster in a pair of handcuffs before he's once again standing face to face with Jake.

He's on the downside of his drunken stupor, more sleepy than buzzed if his drooping eyelids are anything to go by. His mustache lifts as he smiles down at Jake. It's still ridiculous looking but it makes more sense now that Jake knows his occupation. It's the only type of facial hair that's considered to be within regs.

Jake clears his throat. "You want me to take those off?" he asks, motioning towards the cuffs holding Bradley's hands behind his back.

"I might do something stupid if you do."

Jake freezes. "What?"

Before he knows it Bradley's kissing him. He connects their mouths with surprising ease. It's so smooth and he moves relatively quickly for someone who's mildly intoxicated that Jake doesn't even see it coming. Between Jake's surprise and Bradley's lack of hands, they're a bit top heavy and Jake has to fist the front of Bradley's t-shirt, his back hitting the side of the cruiser, to keep them from toppling over.

Bradley's mouth is warm, his lips pliant and soft, but he's firm in the kiss, unrelenting in the way that Jake couldn't have pulled away even if he wanted to.

He doesn't want to— he does— but he doesn't want to.

When he comes to his senses, Jake flattens a palm against Bradley's chest and shoves him away. Immediately his chest aches at the distance. He stands there, still half shocked, with his palm holding Bradley away at arm's length.

Really, he's not too sure what to do in this situation.

Bradley’s hazel eyes shine in amusement. He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Again Jake clears his throat. "Ahem— um, glad you got that out of your system," he says with a pat to Bradley's chest. And before anything else can occur, he swiftly steps around the other man and uncuffs his wrists.

Bradley groans in relief, bringing his hands in front of him to rub at his sore wrists. “I think your bondage play needs some work. Not that I’m complaining—”

“Go inside. Get some sleep, Bradley.”

Taking the not so subtle hint, Bradley straightens and fixes Jake with a mocking salute before he turns and makes him way to the front porch. He watches as Bradley unlocks the front door and turns to give him one last look before he steps inside.

“Until next time, Officer Seresin.”

Jake just shakes his head in disapproval, but he can’t disguise his smile. “There better not be a next time,” he calls up the driveway.

He doesn’t pull out the driveway until Bradley’s shut the door and he sees the porch lights flicker off.

Maybe he does like the night shift.

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Chaos Lineage Stellaworth Special Booklet Short Stories ☽ Orange ver.・A New Menu?! Ruki’s Got His Hands Full!

Original title: メニュー開発！？ルキがてんてこ舞い！ English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the scans (as always, kindly provided by @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It's been a little while since I translated a short story! This one's set in the Orange mansion in the Chaos Lineage timeline and written from Eve's─so, in a way, Yui's─perspective, before the regains her memories. It's a fun little story that contains some brotherly bickering and a LOT of innuendos (hello, yes, I'd like the soup please...) ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ Have fun reading!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ever since I fled from the church and found refuge in the Orange mansion, I hadn’t been granted permission to return to the guest room. Instead, I quietly sat in a chair in the living area.

Ayato unceremoniously called out to me. “You. Hurry up ‘n become mine already.”

“What? Um…”

I was taken aback by the redhead’s sudden remark and found myself unable to reply right away. The small pause inadvertently gave his two brothers the time to say their piece as well.

“Become Ayato’s? Stop this nonsense. This girl will be mine. I’m sure that’s what will make her happiest as well. Isn’t that right?” 

“Ha. I told you—she doesn’t belong to either of you. Better not misunderstand, Ayato. Kanato. We brought Eve here to help Brother become the Demon King, y’know.”

“You with your ‘Brother this, Brother that.’ Shut the fuck up already.”

The three clearly had no intention to consider my opinion on the matter, and their bickering only intensified. I felt myself becoming nervous. It looked like they might even start punching one another if they kept going like this. 

That was when the living room door quietly opened.

Ruki let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re fighting again.” 

Again? The eldest made it sound like his brothers had pestered him with similar fights before, many times over. 

“It’s been days since we acquired Eve, and yet you’re still being hostile towards one another.”

“What does it matter? That has nothing to do with you, Ruki.”

“Sorry, Brother. I’ve been trying to tell them the same thing. It seems both of them still think Eve is theirs.”

“You’re the delusional ones for assuming Eve belongs to Ruki. This chick belongs to Yours Truly. I won’t hand her over to anyone.”

“Enough. Remember that we’ve acquired Eve and that we’re on track to becoming King. If we don’t work together, our enemies will take it as an opening to steal Eve from us, and all our efforts will be for naught.” Ruki seemed worried about his brothers’ willingness to cooperate—that, if the brothers kept quarrelling amongst themselves, the enemy might come to steal me away. 

A sense of restlessness lingered in the air after Ruki spoke. I cast my eyes downwards. The prospect of being at the centre of such a violent dispute left me feeling melancholic. 

“I’m not telling you to get along. But I am telling you to reduce the friction at least a little. I urge you, as my younger brothers, to do what I say.”

“That’s my line! You’re getting in Yours Truly’s way.”

“I don’t like this either. This is ridiculous.”

“That’s exactly the reaction I expected from you. So, let me propose something as a countermeasure: a cooking contest.”

“...Huh?” 

Ayato was speechless. And it wasn’t just Ayato: Kanato and Shin were looking at Ruki with equal suspicion. Even I stared at him, wondering why on Earth he would suggest something so strange. Ruki wanted his brothers to work together to come up with new dishes, apparently.

“It’s the perfect solution to work on your team spirit. Besides, you’ll join forces to expand our repertoire of things to eat for dinner. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?” Ruki said, his facial expression exuding confidence. 

After turning it over in my head for a moment, I supposed that… it might work?

“Got it. If you want us to, Brother, then I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

“Great. Ayato, Kanato—I expect you to help, too, of course.”

“Like hell I would. Why’s Yours Truly gotta do it?”

“I agree. I have no desire to participate in such ridiculous activities. Whoever else wants to participate can go ahead.”

Shin’s immediate agreement stood in stark contrast with the reactions of his younger brothers, who were quick to complain. Ruki stressed that it would have no meaning this way, and proposed his plan on different terms. 

“...There’s no helping it. I’ll let you compile our new menu, then. You may suggest whatever dishes you’d like to eat. We’ll add whatever is picked to our regular dinner menu from now on.”

This idea clearly made Ayato and Kanato more willing to cooperate. The atmosphere in the room immediately became much lighter, and the brothers became a little restless as they thought about what foods they wanted to eat. 

It was decided that I would be the fair judge to taste each dish. I was happy to be afforded a role in Ruki’s plan as well—with my spirits lifted a little already, I joined the others’ conversation.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few hours later…

“What? Why’d only this part turn green? …Ugh, smells fuckin’ rancid!”

“Don’t you think it’s lacking sweetness? Oh, well. I’ll share some of my cream with you, then.”

“Hey! Don’t mess with my cooking! Puttin’ cream in there’s no joke!”

I stayed in the living room while Ruki and the others were in the kitchen preparing their dishes for me to try. Things seemed to be progressing smoothly: Ruki seemed to be the one doing most of the cooking, but I could hear the relatively friendly conversation between the brothers all the way from the living room.

“Stop it, Kanato. We won’t get anywhere if you waste this much food. That’s why I told you not to add any more.”

“Kanato! Stop meddling in other people’s business and concentrate on your own cooking. Or, actually, your… cooking looks more like a mass of sugar.”

“Yes, of course. I suppose I should finish my dish. I’ll just have to add one more thing to finish it off…”

“Hold on, are you serious? Covering chocolate in more chocolate is ridiculous. What’re you even doing?”

While it was good that the brothers were engaging in lively conversation with one another, I still felt anxious after hearing that exchange. I was the one who’s supposed to taste-testing everything, after all. I contemplated going to the kitchen to help them before things went downhill, but they’d actually finished already—the four brothers came back into the living room, each carrying the dish they’d prepared.

“Ah, have you already finished cooking?”

“Yes, indeed. It seems like you’ve been waiting here in the living room like the good girl you are.”

“All of the sample dishes are here. Let’s start the taste test, shall we?”

“Right. So, which one should I try first?”

“Yours Truly’s should be first, of course!” Ayato said before setting down a huge plate on the table in front of me with a loud clang. “I’m calling this ‘Yours Truly’s Specially Made Super-Gigantic Takoyaki’! Be grateful ‘n eat up!”

“Wow! It’s so big! It’s bigger than my face, even.”

“Right? Bigger’s always better. It’s not very round, though. It’s lumpy. It probably kinda fucks with the taste.”

“You made me prepare it, so keep your complaints to yourself. Besides, it’s your fault for constantly butting in while I was cooking.” As there was no dedicated pan large enough to make takoyaki this big, it seemed that Ruki had used a single-handed frying pan to shape it somehow, and that’s likely why it looked a little sunken and uneven. 

According to Ayato, there wasn’t just octopus, but various other fillings in it as well—he himself didn’t quite seem to know for sure, either.

“A-Ayato, this is…”

“What’re you doin’?! Hurry up and eat it!” Ayato yelled when he saw my reluctance to take a bite. Even then, I couldn’t quite work up the courage to dig in. 

The redhead lost his patience and grabbed my chin with one hand. Then, he brought a spoon to my mouth with his other hand, ready to force-feed me. 

“Geez, it can’t be helped. C’mon, I’ll feed you. Hurry up ‘n open wide.”

“W-wait! Ah—Mm…!”

The spoon quickly came my way, holding a chunk of the giant takoyaki. I had no time to protest before the spoon was thrust into my mouth.

“Hehe, you’re gettin’ teary-eyed. That’s not such a bad sight, is it? Hey! No slackin’ off. Keep eatin’. I wanna watch your face while you struggle even more.”

“Ayato! At least do it gently… Mm!”

With enough force to make me choke, the spoon was mercilessly rammed deep into my mouth again. Even if I wanted to run, I couldn’t—Ayato had a tight grip on my chin. I had no choice but to eat the takoyaki that I was given. A cruel smile played on Ayato’s face as he watched me struggle.

“Ugh, mm… Ha...”

I somehow managed to swallow what was in my mouth. I didn’t risk asking what exactly I’d been eating so far to avoid ruining the experience—mostly because it had actually been quite tasty.

“This is so good, Ayato!”

“I know, right? Though it’s only natural, since I cooked all this up!”

Ayato seemed satisfied with my response. His chest swelled with pride, confident that his dish was going to win tonight.

“Eat mine next, please. I’ve made something much more delicious than Ayato’s takoyaki.” 

Unsurprisingly, Kanato had prepared a dessert. The base was a parfait, loaded with pudding, crêpes, cake, and ice cream on top, and covered in an unholy amount of chocolate. It looked almost sickeningly sweet.

“It looks delicious, but… It seems very sweet, doesn’t it?”

“But really, I’m gettin’ heartburn just by looking at it. You might as well call anything a dish if you load it with enough sweet stuff.”

“You’re hopelessly tasteless, Shin. This is obviously incredibly delicious.” As he spoke, Kanato stared at the sweets as though he were spellbound. “Ah… It doesn’t get any better than this. I’d love this to be added to the menu so that Ruki will prepare it for me every day.”

After having stared at his parfait for a while, Kanato picked up a spoon. 

“Since you’re nothing but a doll, you must be bad at feeding yourself, right? Just for today, I’ll feed you. Please be grateful.”

“It’s alright, Kanato. I can eat by myself… Mm!” 

I tried to move away, but Kanato forcefully grabbed my wrist to keep me in place and thrust a loaded spoon at me. Once again, food was forced into my mouth. I tried my best to chew and swallow each bite, but I couldn’t keep up with the speed with which Kanato was feeding me. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, Kanato’s hand stilled.

“Oh, you have some cream on your face.”

“Ah!”

Kanato put down the spoon and his tongue darted out when he moved in, licking the cream off my cheek. My heartbeat jumped a little at the sensation. 

“Hehe… Very sweet. My cooking is the most delicious after all, isn’t it?” he asked expectantly, slowly leaning in further as he spoke. 

The strange atmosphere made me increasingly uncomfortable. Still, though… Kanato’s dish was particularly sweet but no less delicious—like he had said—and so I honestly shared my opinion.

“Right? I see you’re able to tell how great my cooking is. It’s quite admirable.”

Kanato left my side, clearly pleased with my answer.

“It’s my turn, then!”

Shin moved in and placed a small plate in front of me.

“...? Shin, what’s this brown, cream-like stuff?”

“It’s peanut butter. Can’t you tell?”

“The hell? How much of an idiot do you gotta be to consider that a dish?” Ayato sneered at Shin, clearly making fun of him.

“Hehe. Who’s the real idiot here? You know fuck-all about cooking,” Shin replied. Then, he went on to expertly spread the peanut butter on a piece of bread. “This peanut butter goes well with a lot of different kinds of cooking. It’s a great all-purpose condiment for bringing out the flavour of stuff like bread and cakes. I’d like you to use it in many different dishes.”

“I object. Won’t everything just start tasting like peanuts?”

“Right, right! My takoyaki’d taste like peanuts!”

“Ha! You can yap all you want, but it won’t matter. Eve’s the one who has to like it. So, here you go.”

I reached out to take the bread he held out to me, but Shin seized my hand in mid air. He pulled me in close with a sharp tug. 

“I’ll feed you.”

“Um… I already said it just now, but I can eat by myself, you know?”

“Just be good and eat. C’mon.”

My lips parted when the bread touched my mouth, and when I took a bite, the sweet flavour of the peanut butter (1) spread across my tongue.

“Good, isn’t it? Make sure to savour the taste.”

Contrary to Ayato and Kanato, Shin slowed his movements to match my eating speed and held the bread to my mouth for me to take bites. The peanut butter went well with the bread. It was really good.

“Hehe. You kinda look like a greedy little pet dog eating from your owner’s hand right now.”

I tried to argue that no, I wasn’t a dog, but I kept getting interrupted by Shin holding the bread to my mouth. Before long, I’d already swallowed the last bite.

“Thank you, Shin. It was delicious!”

“I told you! If you pick my peanut butter, you’ll be able to eat it whenever you like, so… You know what to do, right?” Shin’s mouth curved into a smile, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

There was clearly no safe way to answer that question. I forced a wavering smile in response.

“Well, then. Lastly, it’s my turn.” Ruki put his dish in front of me with more confidence than all his brothers before him.

“Is this… soup?”

The soup in front of me looked to contain a well-balanced mix of vegetables, meat, and beans, giving it a delicious-looking golden colour. However, it looked no different than what Ruki usually made for dinner.

“Soup? How boring. Couldn’t you come up with something else? This is not even a close contender compared to my dish.”

“Just take a sip and you’ll know. Eve, please turn your face my way.” 

Ruki took a spoonful of the soup and carefully raised it to my lips. 

“Drink it. It’s a rather fine soup to give to livestock, but I suppose I should feed you something nice every once in a while.”

I felt myself becoming curious how it tasted, too, considering Ruki was brimming with confidence. Still, it was a little embarrassing to have him feed it to me, so I tried to tell him I’d like to drink it by myself.

“No, drink it like this. You wouldn’t want to trouble your master, would you? Or… would you rather have me feed it to you mouth-to-mouth?”

He looked like he would seriously do it if I didn’t go along with him. Finding myself unable to resist, I obediently opened my mouth.

“Yes, that’s it. Savour it.”

Ruki slid the spoon between my lips. I tried to swallow it neatly, but my nerves got the better of me. A small drop of soup dribbled from my lower lip.

“Mm. Ah…”

“You spilled some of the soup. Good grief, what ill-mannered livestock you are.”

With a stroke of his thumb, Ruki wiped the soup from my lip. My face flushed.

“What’s that face for, staring at me like that? Was that not enough to satisfy you?”

Not wanting to go through something so embarrassing another time, I desperately shook my head. Still, Ruki’s soup tasted amazing. It may have looked no different from what he usually cooked, but I wondered if this was some kind of secret recipe of his. 

I couldn’t hold back my curiosity and asked him what was in the soup.

“It’s a secret. I’m not so kind a master as to teach you my recipe, Livestock,” Ruki said, dodging my question, and traced his thumb over my lips again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

With all four dishes taste-tested, the cooking contest was over. Now, I had to choose which one I liked the most.

“It can’t be anything other than Yours Truly’s giant takoyaki, right?”

“That’s unthinkable. My dessert was clearly the most delicious.”

“Nah, you’re choosing my peanut butter that goes with any dish, right?”

“Judging from your reaction, Livestock, the answer is clear as day. My soup wins.”

Whatever I picked would be added to our dinner menu from now on, and everyone was passionately advocating for their respective dishes. 

I recalled the flavours of the dishes I’d tasted tonight. After a moment of deliberation, I opened my mouth to speak.

“All four dishes were delicious, so how about adding all four of them to the menu?”

My proposal made the room fall silent for a moment.

“Seriously? It’s a competition! You gotta pick a winner. There’s no way in hell I’m agreein’ to this!”

“What a fool you are. We’ve told you many times over that you can only pick one winner.”

“Besides, aren’t you trying to wriggle your way outta this by giving such a diplomatic answer?”

“That seems likely. Or did Livestock perhaps not understand the meaning of this from the beginning?”

After Ayato first broke the silence, the brothers aimed their discontent at me one after the other. Still, I stood my ground and once again explained to them that I’d truly enjoyed all four dishes. Even though it might put even more strain on Ruki, I insisted that we should add all dishes to the menu since everyone had put in so much effort. 

Ruki contemplated the idea for a little while before letting out a small sigh and agreeing with me. “...If that is Eve’s verdict, so be it. Let’s add all dishes to the menu from now on.”

“The fuck’re you sayin’?! I can’t accept this unless I’m crowned the winner.”

“B-but Ayato, if you kindly ask Ruki, he might make that gigantic takoyaki for you every day, you know?”

“...Heh, that’s true. Well, I’m just gonna make Ruki do it, then!”

“Hold on, please! If that’s the case, then I’d rather he make my parfait every day instead! I won’t lose to an inferior dish like takoyaki!” 

“I won’t put up with having either of your dishes every day. This peanut butter goes with anything, so you’d better use it every day, Brother.”

In the end, the brothers got into a heated argument about whose dish we should eat for the days to come. Even though this contest was intended to foster a cooperative spirit among his brothers, Ruki held his head in his hands as he watched them fight over the results.

Nevertheless, I found myself thinking that I couldn’t imagine this family any other way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Look, I’m not trying to ignite a discussion but… is peanut butter really sweet? It’s considered more of a savoury thing where I live (or at least it rarely—if ever—contains sugar), though I do suppose it’s versatile in that it goes well with both sweet and savoury things. 

[querenciasturniolo]

hi hi, i was wondering if i could get a chris x f!reader where chris has a crush on reader and tries to impress her by dressing up as steve for halloween bc reader loves stranger things and when she finds out it’s super fluffy like they finally get together?

Tysm, I’m really excited for halloween lol 🎃

harrington ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: swearing, cheesiness

summary: request

a/n: this was so fun, i’m so PUMPED for halloween thanks to this, so thank you 🎃 not proofread btw

this is the first of MANY, i’m gonna try my best to get more and more finished and posted, but here you are 🧡

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“When are you guys getting here? The party starts in twenty minutes, and it takes half an hour to get there.”

You heard Nick groan over the receiver as you pulled the final curler from your hair and combed through it.

“We’ll be there soon, Chris just had to choose the most difficult DIY prop for his costume.” Nick said. Before you could even ask what Nick was talking about, chaos ensued. Chris and Nick bickering at each other was nothing new, but over the phone it was almost impossible to understand.

You snorted and told them you’d see them when they got there, though you knew by the time you finished your sentence that they couldn’t hear you. You dropped your phone onto your sink and took a step back, your eyes roaming over your entire outfit to make sure it looked right. You adjusted your skirt and tucked in the back of your shirt, doing a small twirl and shaking your head at how corny you are.

Nancy Wheeler, seemingly an easy character to replicate, but for some reason it still felt cheesy. You’d been a fan of Stranger Things since the first season, and you’d finally gotten over yourself enough to go as her for Halloween. Chris had pestered you to tell him what you were going as, same with Nick and Matt, but you wanted to keep it a secret to save yourself from backing out at the last second if they’d made a joke about it.

The knock on your door made you jump. You sighed and laughed quietly at yourself as you headed towards the door. Another knock sounded just as you twisted the handle.

“I’m coming, Jesus. Hold your hors—”

Your eyes went wide as you met Chris’ eyes, his own face resembling the same amount of shock as yours. Nick’s footsteps were heard coming from behind Chris, but you couldn’t pull your shocked gaze away from him.

“Are we leaving or—no fucking way. Chris, I told you!” Nick exclaimed, turning around and gesturing for Matt to come quicker. “Matt! I was right, they’re fucking matching!”

Chris was standing directly in front of you, dressed as Steve Harrington, the bat thrown over his shoulder. Your face was on fire, your heart racing as you fish-mouthed. You couldn’t possibly go to the party as Steve and Nancy, that would be insinuating that the two of you meant to do this. That would be insinuating that the two of you planned it, to go as a couple.

“I-I can change?” You said, your voice weak. Chris snapped out of his shock and looked down at you, shaking his head.

“What? No, why would you change?” He asked. You noticed the pink tinge to his cheeks almost immediately, which just made your chest ache more.

“I don’t even know.” You said honestly, Chris smiling and looking back.

“We should get going, though.” He said. You nodded and shut your door, locking it and sighing before you turned around and followed them to the car.

The drive was silent apart from the music playing moderately through the speakers. They had been your friends for ages, and the fact that you could all just sit in silence and enjoy each other’s company was perfect, in a sense. You had your feet perched up on the back of Chris’ seat, grateful your skirt was long enough to cover you and that your mother wasn’t there to tell you to sit like a lady, just scrolling through your phone. A text popped up in a banner, and you clicked on it without even seeing who sent it.

chris: you make a good nancy

You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you typed out a message.

and you make a good steve. how did you manage to hide your costume from me?

The moment the message was sent, you realized you were grinning down at your screen. You quickly schooled your features and looked out the window, watching the sun go down and the street lights glare against the glass. Your phone vibrated in your lap, and you forced yourself to wait a few moments before you picked it up.

chris: i’m stealthy, like a ninja.

A cackle bubbled out of you, your hand slapping over your mouth as your cheeks heated up. You could see Nick glance over at you from your peripheral, his eyebrows furrowed before he looked back at his own screen. You cleared your throat and sat back in your seat, dropping your feet on the floor of the car as you locked your phone and dropped it onto your lap.

The rest of the car ride was silent, your face warm and your heart pounding the moment the four of you pulled up to the party. Chris was by your side in an instant, his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walked into the slightly crowded house.

You couldn’t even remember who was throwing the party, but you were grateful that it wasn’t too crowded, and everyone was friendly. You talked to quite a few people, Chris’ arm never leaving your shoulder as the two of you passed through the house.

“You know.” You said, turning your head to face him. Chris looked down at you with raised eyebrows. “You haven’t let go of me all night.”

Chris smiled down at you and shrugged his shoulders. “I have nothing to say for myself, other than you look great and we match. What’s Steve without his Nancy?” He asked, squeezing your shoulder. You pulled away and stood in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why did you dress as Steve?” You asked. Chris frowned at you and sputtered, shaking his head.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I dress as Steve?” He asked his cheeks tinged red as he avoided your gaze. The look on your face when he finally met your eyes again made him sigh and he shrugged.

“God it’s so cheesy, bare with me.” He said. You nodded, waiting patiently for him to go on with a growing smile on your face. “I’ve like, been into you for a while now. And I thought if I went as Steve for Halloween, you’d be impressed. It’s totally fine if you don’t feel the same way, obviously. I just, I don’t even know what I was thinking, actually. Forget I said anyth—”

You rested your hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up as you pulled it away when he stopped talking.

“That was so incredibly fucked up, are you serious?” He asked, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you shook your head and smiled up at him.

“How else was I supposed to get you to shut up long enough for me to say I do feel the same?” You asked, Chris’ shocked face morphing into a fond, shy smile.

“Really?” He asked, his hands coming up from his sides to rest on your waist. You practically beamed at him as you nodded and leaned up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. You dropped back down on your heels and took a step back, his hands dropping back to his sides as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Really. Now, ready to get back to the party?” You asked, turning and walking away. He was soon right by your side, his hand entwining with yours as he tossed the bat over his shoulder.

“I was born ready, Wheeler.”

tags: @strniolo , @toyourloves , @ssturniolo , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @emmssturniolo , @lvrsparadise , @tuktuk34 , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee

[shadamyheadcanons]

Headcanon #296

Cross-posted on AO3.

--

Knuckles’s jaw was clenched, and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest. Amy’s bubbly voice floated in from the loveseat to his right. He scowled straight ahead at the wall in front of him instead of looking at her, knowing he’d only get more irritated if he did.

“Sounds like you two had a good time,” Rouge said from the armchair to Knuckles’s left.

Knuckles could see Amy’s head bob excitedly out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah! And then we went swimming by Emerald Coast,” Amy continued. “The water was beautiful!”

“Aside from the orcas,” a low voice added.

Knuckles whipped his head over without thinking. “Orcas?! Amy, are you—”

Knuckles choked on the last word. Shadow was staring back at him, eyes intense and unreadable. He was sitting directly behind Amy on the loveseat, keeping his knees apart so she could sit between them. His arms were wrapped around her midsection.

Knuckles’s eye twitched.

“Don’t worry!” Amy piped up. “Shadow was keeping an eye on me. He had a Chaos Emerald on hand just in case to warp me out of there.” She beamed over her shoulder at Shadow. He grunted and rested his chin on top of her head.

Knuckles looked away. Rouge’s lips were spread into a subtle smirk.

BEEP

Amy jumped at the sound of the oven timer. “Oh! That must be the surprise I mentioned earlier!” She hopped to her feet. “It’ll be done in just a few minutes.”

“I’ll help,” Shadow said immediately.

“Thanks!” Amy offered a hand to pull him to his feet.

Knuckles started to stand. “I’ll come, too.”

“Nope!” Amy interjected. “Someone has to keep Rouge company.” She winked.

Without another word, Amy dashed off toward her kitchen, pulling a willing Shadow along with her. Knuckles sighed.

He heard the quiet flapping of wingbeats and peeked an eye open to find Rouge had perched on the arm of the couch to lean into his personal space. “She’s turning into a real matchmaker, hmm?”

Knuckles tried to relax his muscles. “Some days, I can’t tell if she’s trying to set me up with you or Sonic.”

Rouge made an interested noise. “Now that’s an idea.”

“I don’t even want to know what you mean by that.”

In front of him, Shadow and Amy had just entered her kitchen. She opened up the oven, but Shadow nudged ahead so he could reach in and extract three cake pans from it for her. When he placed them on the stovetop, she gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek. Shadow wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, far closer than Knuckles would have liked. He grumbled.

Rouge spoke up beside him once more. “Aww, worried about your little sister?”

“She’s not my sister.”

“You don’t have to be shy about it. I think it’s sweet!”

Knuckles ignored her. Through the doorway to the kitchen, he could see Amy take out a bowl of cream from her fridge and lay out a few other ingredients. Shadow, apparently feeling quite at home in Amy’s kitchen, easily located a large mixing bowl and a whisk. She tossed the ingredients into the bowl and started whisking them together at an impressive speed. Shadow muttered something inaudible in Amy’s ear. She smiled brightly, and he stepped over to hold her from behind, peeking over her shoulder as she worked.

Knuckles felt pain in his jaw, cluing him in that he’d been clenching his teeth. He relaxed his jaw, though he kept glaring at Shadow. “Would it kill him to keep his paws to himself?”

Shadow’s ear twitched slightly, making Knuckles wonder if his enhanced hearing was keen enough to pick up on their conversation. He decided he didn’t care.

Rouge shrugged in his peripheral vision. “Aren’t all new couples like that?”

Knuckles snorted. “I expect PDA from Amy, but Shadow? He never touches anyone! And now he’s acting so...”

“Possessive? That’s because he is.”

Knuckles’s face soured. He whipped his head up to meet Rouge’s easy smile. She seemed far too happy about the situation. “You don’t think that’s creepy at all?”

Rouge scoffed and leaned back. “Not one bit. It’s just who he is.”

Knuckles squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

Rouge’s eyes flicked over to the kitchen. She sighed. “When I first met that guy, he had nothing but the shoes on his feet,” she said, keeping her voice low. Her eyes fell shut. “Gerald, G.U.N...they took everything from Shadow. His freedom. His memories. His identity. Everyone who ever cared about him.” Knuckles could see her jaw clench. “All G.U.N.’s ever given him is a goddamn motorcycle, and he loves that thing. Paints it. Maintains it. Polishes it every single weekend. He won’t even let Tails touch it.”

An unwanted pang of sympathy made itself known in Knuckles’s chest. He crossed his arms and tried to ignore it. “What does a bike have to do with Amy?”

Rouge’s eyes opened slowly. She looked as weary as he’d ever seen her. “I’m saying Shadow’s hardly had anything that’s actually his, and when he does, he keeps it close and takes damn good care of it.”

Knuckles paused. Then, he stubbornly turned up his nose. “Still sounds creepy to me.”

Rouge rolled her eyes. She grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him to face the kitchen. “Is that really what you see?” she hissed.

Amy stood next to the counter. She’d set aside a bowl of some red, sugary substance, seemingly taking a break to hold a strawberry up to Shadow’s mouth. He took a bite right from her hand. After a moment of chewing and contemplation—far too intense for a strawberry, Knuckles thought—Shadow nodded. Amy’s smile was brilliant. He gazed down at her with an obvious softness in his eyes, then held her closer with the arm he still kept around her waist and kissed her fondly.

As he kept kissing her, though—far longer than Knuckles felt was strictly necessary—the memory of Shadow abandoning him to help Black Doom in Glyphic Canyon sprang to mind. Knuckles turned away. “Well, excuse me if I don’t exactly trust the guy. He—”

He was cut off by Rouge’s fierce growl, and her sharp nails stabbed into his shoulder, making him choke.

“I know you’re not about to trash-talk my best friend right in front of my face,” Rouge snapped, her teal eyes flashing in warning. Knuckles shrank back. “Shadow’s a good man, and he’s saved all of our asses more than once, yours included. He’s more than earned our forgiveness.”

Rouge’s wings were flared out behind her, and her fangs were bared. From his position below her on the sofa, Knuckles was bluntly reminded of why so many people were afraid of Rouge. He nodded slowly, eyes wide.

The glare remained on Rouge’s face for several seconds. At last, it faded, and she averted her gaze. The pain in Knuckles’s shoulder disappeared. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and the pounding of his heart slowed down.

Rouge let out a deep breath. After an extended silence, she spoke up again. “Do you really think Amy would put up with that kind of mistreatment?”

“She put up with Sonic running away from her for years.”

Rouge opened her mouth to reply, but then her expression pinched. “...I guess that’s fair.”

Knuckles slumped. He stared down at his feet. He could feel Rouge watching him, waiting for a response. His throat tightened.

“It’s my fault.”

Rouge’s tone was softer than before. “What are you talking about? Sonic’s the one who ran away.”

Knuckles shook his head. He kept his eyes on the floor. “No. We all did it. Sonic was immature, and Tails was just following him, but what’s my excuse? I was the oldest. I should’ve been the responsible one.”

Rouge rested her hand on his shoulder, gently this time, but Knuckles brushed it off and shook his head. “I told myself it wasn’t my business. I had my island and my Emerald, and they had their world, but...” Knuckles’s face twisted. “I abandoned her just like they did. She got kidnapped over and over, and Sonic never learned. He left her behind every time.” Knuckles snarled and punched his palm. “If I’d just knocked some sense into him, if I’d just been there for her...stood up for her—”

“Knuckles...”

His muscles went limp, and his eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t have the right to call myself her brother. Any halfway decent older brother would have protected her.”

He remained there for a while, just staring into his hands.

Rouge’s hand returned to his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off again, but she remained steadfast.

“Knuckles, you can’t blame yourself for all of that.”

Knuckles squinted up at her concerned expression at last. “It’s my fault. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it shouldn’t have been your job to begin with.” She shook her head. “You weren’t an adult, you were a teenager. All four of you should have had actual adults looking after you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a finger to stop him. “Eggman did the kidnapping, not you. And yeah, we all should have treated her better...” She averted her gaze. “Even me...but we were all just kids and teens doing our best out there. Don’t beat yourself up over it, Knux.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Rouge cut in. “Would Amy want you to be so hard on yourself?”

Knuckles paused. He glanced into the kitchen again, only to find Shadow and Amy were out of sight. He searched for a moment, but then he heard Amy giggle from around a corner in the kitchen and say, “You little—!”

Knuckles growled immediately. He was halfway to his feet when a gentle hand pressed against his chest to stop him. He couldn’t help but comply.

“Ah, ah! Down, boy,” Rouge teased, guiding him back down to his seat. “Does she sound upset?”

Knuckles pouted, wishing he weren’t so easily swayed. Amy turned the corner with Shadow in tow. Her mischievous laughter floated back in once more. Knuckles rolled his eyes. “...No. I guess not.”

I definitely don’t like that smug look on his face, though.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, Knuckles, but you don’t have a choice.”

Knuckles glanced back up at Rouge. Despite her words, her expression was playful. “What do you mean?”

Rouge chuckled. “You can claim you’re not Amy’s brother all you want, but she’s still your sister. She’s already decided that.”

Knuckles snorted. “What are you talking about? She’s never said that.”

“She doesn’t have to, hun. It’s all there.” At his skeptical look, she continued. “Why do you think she’s worked to get so strong?”

Knuckles waved it off. “She had to. We all did.”

Rouge crossed her arms and raised a smug brow. “So it’s just a coincidence that she specifically chose boxercise for a fighting style? She goes through a punching bag a week, just like you do.”

Knuckles thought for a moment, then snorted. “Punching things is the best way to fight. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

Rouge smirked. “I don’t know about that. My way works just fine.” She extended one of her strong legs and rested it in Knuckles’s lap. His breath caught in his throat.

“That’s not all, though,” she continued. “Haven’t you ever noticed she just so happened to pick a red dress with a white collar? Doesn’t that remind you of anyone...?” To drive her point home, Rouge dragged one finger over Knuckles’s collarbone down to trace the white crescent shape on his chest. He gulped.

With Knuckles stunned, she was free to keep talking. “And haven’t you ever wondered why she keeps her quills down like that? Doesn’t that look familiar?”

Knuckles’s head cleared for a moment, and his attention snapped to the kitchen, where the two hedgehogs were assembling a cake. Shadow was stroking his fingers through Amy’s quills, which were immaculately styled as always to point downward. Knuckles’s heart thumped unexpectedly. “Do you really think that’s why?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” Rouge crooned. “And she has to use a ton of product to do it, too. Hedgehog quills don’t do this on their own.” She shifted her hand back up to thread into his quills. “She wouldn’t do that if you weren’t worth looking up to, riiiight~?”

Knuckles’s muscles started to unwind. “Y-yeah...I guess so...”

“Sooo...don’t you think it’s time you forgave yourself...and maybe someone else, too?”

It was hard to think with Rouge’s nails gently scratching his scalp. The couch creaked underneath him as he leaned back into the cushions. “...Mmmaybe...”

He could hear the smile in Rouge’s voice as she added, “Y’know, it’s gotta be pretty nice not to have to worry about her anymore.” He tipped his head back and made a quiet, inquisitive grunt. Rouge chuckled under her breath. “She’s strong as hell from emulating you, and if all else fails, she’s got a clingy, overprotective boyfriend looking out for her now. Strong enough to flip a bus. Faster than the speed of sound. Can teleport to her side whenever she’s in danger. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Hmmm...”

Amy was putting the finishing touches on the dessert. Shadow swiped a dollop of whipped cream from her cheek. When she looked up in curiosity, he licked it off of his thumb and smirked at her. She held back a shy giggle, and he clung to her once more to press a kiss to her temple.

Even so, Knuckles somehow felt less concerned than before.

When she puts it like that, it doesn’t sound too bad.

Rouge shifted closer, drawing his attention. “That’s half the reason he’s always all over her like this, you know,” she pointed out with a smirk. “No one’s dumb enough to mess with Shadow’s girlfriend. So long as he’s around, no one can touch her.”

Knuckles gazed up at her sincere smile for a moment, unable to argue. She kept running her fingers through his quills, and an unfamiliar warmth washed over him for the first time in a long while.

I’m...calm.

A few seconds later, though, a thought tugged at the back of his hazy mind, and he frowned, suspicious. “If that’s only half of the reason, what’s the other half?”

“You two look cozy,” Amy teased from the doorway.

Knuckles nearly jumped out of his skin. Realizing Rouge was practically sitting in his lap, he wrenched his head out of her hand and scrambled out from under her leg.

Rouge righted herself on the couch and pouted. “So rude.”

Knuckles shuffled over to take refuge on the other side of the couch, running his hands through his disheveled quills and fur to straighten things out. “Hmph.” His face burned while the others laughed. Desperate to change the subject, he fixed his gaze on the dessert in Amy’s hands. “So is that the surprise you mentioned?”

Amy glowed with pride as she presented the triple-layered cake, complete with strawberry drizzle, immaculate whipped cream swirls, and carefully-placed strawberries. “Yup! I think I finally nailed my new strawberry shortcake recipe!” She set the cake on her coffee table and straightened back up. “Let me know what you think!”

Shadow knelt next to the coffee table, plates and silverware in hand. He cut the cake with clean, precise strokes, and soon everyone had a slice.

Rouge chimed in first. “Mmmm! This is delicious, Amy!”

Knuckles nodded. The sweetness of the strawberries was mellowed out by the cool whipped cream. The light, spongy cake tied everything together perfectly. “You’ve outdone yourself this time. I think this might be your best yet,” he said through another mouthful.

Amy grinned and sat down on the loveseat to take her first bite. She squealed and kicked her feet in place. “Oooo, this is perfect!” She swallowed and added, “I’m so excited. Strawberry shortcake is my favorite!”

Knuckles paused in his chewing. “I thought your favorite was soft serve ice cream.”

“It was for a long time,” Amy said. “But then Shadow took me to this cute little bakery in Westopolis. They had the best strawberry shortcake!”

Shadow slid his empty plate onto the coffee table next to her. “Still not as good as yours.”

Amy gaped. “You’re already done?! I’ve barely—”

She cut herself off with a yelp when Shadow abruptly lifted her to sit sideways in his lap. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Couldn’t help it. It was delicious.”

She laughed and settled easily into his arms. “You almost made me drop my cake!”

Knuckles stayed quiet while Amy told Rouge about the supposedly indispensable shoe store next to the Westopolis bakery. His focus shifted to Shadow, who seemed content to admire Amy’s bubbly demeanor instead. He held her far more closely than he had to.

He’s too handsy.

Shadow admired Amy’s enthusiasm with unusual intensity.

He’s too fixated on her.

Knuckles thought of Shadow’s past actions, some of which bordered on indefensible.

He’s got a checkered past and takes things too far.

But...

Then, Knuckles’s gaze fell upon Amy—her easy, radiant smile and the fully relaxed state her muscles only reached when she was in the complete security of Shadow’s arms.

Maybe...that actually works for her.

Amy and Rouge kept chatting. Knuckles looked back over to Shadow, who was now staring back at him, unreadable as always.

And it might be useful to have someone around to talk to who’s just as uninterested in shoe shopping as I am.

Knuckles mulled it over. Soon, he found himself thinking of things they might have in common. He was on the verge of formulating a question about martial arts or workout routines...until he caught sight of something on Amy’s neck that definitely hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago.

His blood boiled.

“Amy. WHAT. IS. THAT?!”

All conversation stopped at Knuckles’s outburst. Following Knuckles’s gaze, Rouge burst into a loud cackle.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Oh, grow up, Knuckles. We’re all adults here!”

Every muscle in Knuckles’s body tightened, and he turned his most heated glare on Shadow, the glare that made everyone else wilt.

Shadow’s unreadable face morphed into an unmistakable smirk, and he let out a smug snicker under his breath. Knuckles clenched his fists.

He can stay for Amy’s sake...but he’s still the worst.

--

((I will tolerate the Sonic Twitter Takeover changing Amy’s favorite dessert if they admit it happened during a Shadamy date. I think that’s fair.))

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight: Family Dinner

summary: nathan meets your sisters— alternatively, you get grilled by your family (nathan joins in of course).

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: this entire series is 18+, SIBLINGSSSSSS, talks of dating, bi!reader, teasing, food mention, mentions of caretaking/sick parent, kissing, nathan is so in love (so is reader)

wc: 1,465

an: back at it with these two again. i adore them. i love them. this is lowkey chaos. and nathan sort of fits in perfectly with her family’s chaos which i was expecting to struggle with a bit. thank you to @juneknight for always being there to listen and brainstorm, you’re too good to me!

in plain sight masterlist | tiana | planted | little hamlet

3 months post To Atomize

“If neither of you are ready he doesn’t have to come. But, he’s very excited to meet you.”

Emma and Phillipa are sat on the couch as you stand— more like pace— in front of them. You shouldn’t be nervous, it’s not like this is the first time they’ve met someone you’ve been involved with. Nathan isn’t just somebody is he though? Asshole boss turned slightly less asshole boyfriend. The word feels weird in your mouth, not just because 6 months ago you were calling him Mr. Bateman, but because he seems like so much more than that.

All of his talk of being obsessed, about being consumed, well you feel the same way. You aren’t sure that the term boyfriend really compasses that. But, who would you be to shut that down— saying it doesn’t feel right, or strong enough— when Nathan had the most smug, giddy look on his face when he called you his girlfriend for the first time?

“Oh my god, don’t be a chicken, we’re ready,” Phillipa gripes, leaning back against the couch to more easily fish her phone out of her pocket.

“Hey, don’t call me a chicken.”

“You’ve been dating Mr. Bateman forever,” She says, scrolling on her phone. “It’s been on Twitter.”

“Its been 6 months. Call him Nathan, he's not some stuffy old man.” You say. Well— he’s not old at least. “And please don’t mention Twitter, I’m perceived enough these days.”

Emma pipes up finally, “Phil says that’s a hella long time.”

You narrow your eyes at the older girl who’s giving your younger sister a similar look. “Phil says hella, does she?”

“Emma you swore you wouldn’t tell!”

“I didn’t! I used it in a sentence!”

“Okay, okay— we don’t yell at each other.. You’re both sure?”

“Yes!” They say together with different levels of eagerness, though they’re both excited.

You regard them with wary eyes. Nathan’s excited. They’re excited. Your nerves are certainly there, but you are too.

“Alright but I need you both to be on your best behavior. Be the sweet girls I know you are. And no more cussing. Either of you.”

—

Nathan’s been uncharacteristically quiet but you know that he’s just gathering information, feeling things out. But, Phillipa takes that as nerves and being the rebellious teenager that she is, she wants to have some fun.

She mixes up the pasta in front of her, examines it as she nonchalantly asks, “Nathan, where do babies come from?”

Nathan bites back a nervous laugh. “Don’t they teach you that in sex ed? I mean scientifically speaking it’s a bore but—“

“Nathan,” You grit out in warning, your eyes meeting his.

He gets the message straight away, going in for a different method of attack. “I could make a baby with my bare hands. Program it to never cry or eat, to sleep its 16 hours.”

Emma perks up. “Like a babydoll? Mine is broken.”

“Emma, a new doll is on your Christmas list. It's not broken, you just want the new one,” Phillipa says, reaching for the red pepper flakes.

“I could build her one that's better than anything you could buy on the market. Those things crap out, they malfunction.”

Your brow furrows as you look over at Nathan, this is not where you expected this conversation to go, though you’re not ungrateful. “You’re going to build my sister a doll?”

“Oh, please? Please, please, Mr. Bateman!”

“I told you to call him Nathan, Em.”

Phillipa leans in, “Hey, what about me? Emma gets a doll what do I get.”

“Nathan isn't here to give you thinks, Phil, he was just here to meet you.”

“That depends on what you like Philippa. I can do anything,” Nathan proclaims, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms.

“Nobody can do anything.”

“That was before you met me. Name it.”

“I’m gonna think of something super impossible.”

“I look forward to proving you wrong, Phil.”

Phil studies him for a moment, trying to decide if she’ll say what’s on her mind. “You’re cooler than anybody she’s ever dated.”

“Oh really?”

“Phil, please,” You plead, completely abandoning eating in turn for twirling your pasta anxiously.

Phillipa ignores completely ignores you, grinning at Nathan’s interest. “Yeah, the last guy she brought looked like Goofy and sounded like Mickey Mouse.”

“Mickey Mouse, huh? You into rats, sweetheart?”

“What about the lady with the curly hair? I liked her,” Emma says softly.

Nathan’s brows raise as he trains his gaze on you. “The lady?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Your sisters and Nathan grilling you— together. This was simultaneously the best and the worst idea. They had to meet of course, what with you being pretty sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Nathan. But did they have to gang up on you like a well choreographed dance? Especially on the first go of it.

“We were friends. How do you even remember her, Em, you were a toddler?” You look at her with eyes that say back off but she’s 7, in her own world, having a great time.

Nathan’s building her a babydoll for gods sakes.

Emma grins, “She always gave me candies.”

“Wait a fuc—“ He stops himself, mindful of your sisters, repeating with just as much shock as before, “a lady?”

“Friends,” You emphasis again.

“I literally caught you two kissing,” Phil says, rolling her eyes.

“Philippa—“

Nathan throws his head back, laughing loudly, “Not much of an explanation for that, is there honey?”

“It never went anywhere— not that I owe to any of you to explain,” You give all of them narrowed eyes, your face feeling hotter than the surface of the sun.

“They were all nice at least,” Philippa muses, twirling some pasta around her fork.

“Like I would bring home somebody that would be mean to either of you.”

“Phillipa says people say Nathan’s a jackass,” Emma announces before stuffing more garlic bread in her mouth.

You fix Phillipa with an icy look, and she quickly looks away, suddenly very interested in the basket of garlic bread in front of her. “When I told you to spend more time with your sister, that really did not include teaching her swear words.”

“I like swear words!” Emma protests.

Nathan leans in, smiling wide, eyes glittering mischievously, “Emma, so do I.”

You lean closer to Nathan, whispering, “Honey, you’re not helping.”

“Right. Lips zipping,” He whispers back, straightening up.

You turn back to your sisters. “Less swear words, more dinner. Or are you finished?”

“I’m finished. Can we have the brownies Phillipa made?”

“Of course, little one. Phillipa? Nathan?”

Phil just gives you a nod, while Nathan says, “All good, sweetheart.”

Dessert is much more mellow, and afterwards Nathan offers to do the dishes for you so that you can make sure your sisters get to bed alright. Once you’ve said goodnight to them, you return to your room. You find Nathan there, fingers tracing the trinkets and family heirlooms that sit on your desk.

You shut the door quietly behind you, “I told you they were…”

“Like you?” Nathan suggests, his mouth sitting in that smug grin.

You scoff. “Nosy. I’m not nosy.”

“You’re pretty fucking nosy.”

“Am not.”

“I didn’t say I disliked it about you honey, don’t get your panties in a twist,” He reaches for you, crowding you against the wall near your bed.

“My panties are untwisted, Nathan,” You say matter of factly, unimpressed with him.

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “Can I take them off then?”

“My sisters are down the hall, so is my mom,” You whisper, a little breathless and Nathan takes note of that.

“I thought you liked covering my mouth?” He asks, pulling away from your neck to wag his eyebrows at you. You stare up at him, eyes alight, mouth flat. He wants to kiss you until his brain melts out of his ears but digresses. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bateman,” You say, your voice a little exasperated though there’s a smile pulling at your lips. You detangle yourself from him, starting towards the door. “I’ll get you some towels to shower and check on my mom.”

“You’ll let me know if she’s up for company?” Nathan watches you deflate, sorry that he even asked. But, he’s eager to meet the woman who raised you. He wants to ask questions and know more about the both of you.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” You murmur.

“If not, I’ll just write her a note. You know I’m good for it,” He murmurs, nodding head towards the note he’d written you that sits on your nightstand. “Come back here. Please.”

When you cross the room to him, he pulls in close, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that makes you so dizzy you can’t remember that you were sad.

“What was that for?”

He raises a brow at you, “What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend whenever I want?”

“You and that word are really going strong?”

“You jealous?”

“Nathan, that would make a negative amount of sense, my love.”

He starts to kiss at your neck like before, using a little more teeth this time. “Oh that’s new. I like that. Say it again.”

“To the shower, Bateman.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333

[aziraphales-library]

helllooooo! so my fav thing to read is aziraphale getting hurt (metally or physically) (im deranged i know) and crowley comforting him, i was wondering if yall had any favs? i have read a lot and are looking for new fics with this basis:))))

We have several tags with loads of fics you can check out: #hurt aziraphale, #aziraphale whump, #aziraphale's trauma, and #protective crowley. Here are more to add...

Penance That Comes With the Lack of Proper Closure by midnightdragons (T)

“I – Crowley, I –,” Aziraphale floundered with his words, grief and guilt and sick shame burning at his chest. He wrung his hands together tightly, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut as he spoke, almost feeling as if he was making a confession to a priest. That same sick feeling rose in his throat, and he swallowed it back, his hands clammy where they were clasped together in front of him. “Crowley, I do not know if I deserve to be called that anymore.” He risked opening his eyes again when there was nothing but silence and heavy breathing, and he saw that Crowley’s mouth had dropped open, and his eyes were flashing something dangerous. “You – what? Called angel? You – you don’t – you think you don’t deserve –?”

After the averted Apocalypse, Aziraphale forgets himself and sends a report to Heaven. This does not go over well, and Crowley is there to help Aziraphale process through the grief of being unwanted by his God.

To Be Safe And Loved by LokisQueen01 (T)

Aziraphale hasn't been in Heaven long when he is told the details of the Second Coming. He decides he is not the right Angel for the job and tries to leave. The Metatron is not happy and Sandalphon steps into the picture. All Aziraphale wants is to go home. My summaries suck and I am still learning tagging. Mentions of Blood and Torture. This is my first Good Omens fic and my first fic in awhile. Please be gentle and kind!

To wash it white as snow by HolRose (T)

After all the noise and chaos had died down in the aftermath of the failed Second Coming, Crowley takes care of his wounded angel, and together they help each other on the road to healing. A gentle, loving Post Season 3 comfort fic

I've Been Loving You by acup_oftea (NR)

The laws of physics suggested that the Bentley shouldn’t have been able to drive more than seventy-or-so miles per hour in London. The laws of physics, however, did not account for the Bentley’s strong preference for protecting certain ethereal beings who had a tendency to overthink absolutely everything save for their own personal safety. Crowley made it to the bookshop in under five minutes, his mind racing and his heart hammering as he took in the fact that he was actually coming back. He couldn’t face this, couldn’t be in this place without sinking into its familiarity, without closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of the shop, without covertly staring and staring at its owner. But he was up and slamming the car door shut without stopping, trying to calm the dull panic in his head. OR It's been seven months, & Crowley has taken to drinking himself into oblivion & solitude. But when he gets a panicked call from Muriel telling him to get to the bookshop right away, he is forced to confront certain misunderstandings he may have had as the threat of danger lurks- & he'll do anything to keep his angel safe OR The author is TIRED of reading s2 fix-its where Aziraphale is the bad guy

A Price Paid For Love by tincturedwords (M)

Angered over the events of the ruined Armageddon, the Archangels Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon argue over why Aziraphale hasn't Fallen yet. He is a traitor to all of Heaven and God Herself in their eyes. He has stopped the Great Plan from taking place and has been toeing the line of their rules for centuries, hedonistic and befriending a demon were only a few on the list they held against him. Yet the Almighty is silent on all that's happened… Thus they decide to take matters into their own hands. However, they may not have the power to make an angel Fall as God does, they do possess powerful miracles, especially when their strength is combined. So in order to teach the wayward Principality a lesson, they simulate what it's like to Fall for Aziraphale so that he may understand what his fate should have been. Except they fail to inform him of this punishment, thus Aziraphale doesn't know it's not real.

Subterfuge by The_Bentley (E)

War has come to Europe and many are suffering under the Nazi Regime of Germany. Aziraphale, unable to sit by and watch this happen, has plans to save as many as he can but he needs help. Crowley, miserable in his new mission which has him infiltrating the Nazi government to further Hell's causes, just might be the partner he requires to implement his plans. But when Aziraphale ends up imprisoned for his actions, Crowley's rage will have him raining Hell down on those who hold his angel captive. Both will also have to learn to deal with the trauma that comes with being embedded behind enemy lines as the toll the war takes on them has Crowley and Aziraphale depending on each other for support.

- Mod D

[justallihere]

Hi there! Welcome - I'm Alli (she/her). I like concerts, books, and science. My favorite color is pink and my favorite band is Fall Out Boy. At this time I'm writing fics for The Empyrean (Fourth Wing) series, but someday in the future I might expand that list. Thanks for joining the chaos!

Most of you probably know me from AO3 by the same username. Below you can find my entire masterlist of fics as well as some frequently asked questions. If there's something you'd like to know that isn't addressed below, my ask box is always open 🫶🏻

✨ masterlist:

storm in the quiet (E)

Xaden/Violet, arranged marriage AU, > 200k words, ongoing

It took only a few minutes for Violet to figure out what purpose she served. No one said it out loud—not yet, but they’d get there—but they kept throwing out words like formalizing alliances and uniting two groups, and she understood. Violet was a sacrificial lamb, and Xaden Riorson was the wolf, and her slaughter would be their marriage.

(find sitq deleted moments here, here, here, and here)

all resistance wearing thin (E)

Imogen/Garrick, one shot set in the sitq world, 7.3k words, complete

It was a dangerous thing to be alone with Imogen Cardulo.

simmer (E)

Xaden/Violet, one shot, 4.1k words, complete

The night that Tairn began channeling to Violet, she didn’t stumble upon Xaden in the snow. She found someone else to take care of her, and when Xaden realized, he was less than amused.

violence in my veins (E)

Xaden/Violet, one shot, 4.1k words, complete

The Riders’ Quadrant had something of an obsession with piercings. The only person Violet Sorrengail knew without any was, of course, Xaden Riorson. Or so she thought.

invisible in a violet sea (E)

Xaden/Violet, one shot, 2k words, complete

“It’s just me here, love. Tell me what you need so badly, Violence.” There was something about the way he said the private nickname in this context, with his voice low and husky, that made it feel entirely different from every other time he called her that. Like it was reverent and special and it, like her, belonged only to him. “You,” she said. “I need you, Xaden.”

void of all composure (E)

Liam/Violet/Cam, one shot, 2.8k words, complete

Liam Mairi figured it couldn’t be that hard to keep Violet Sorrengail out of trouble. Unfortunately, he didn’t account for the fact that her version of trouble was Cam Tauri, and Liam was certainly going to go down with her.

somehow i still love you more (G)

Xaden/Violet, kid fic, one shot, 800 words, complete

Xaden’s favorite time was the middle of the night, when his wife slept peacefully and he got to hold his daughter and watch the snow falling.

come together, come apart (E)

Liam/Violet/Xaden, one shot, 12.4k words, complete

Following the battle at Resson, Violet felt out of control in the wake of so many lies revealed. Xaden and Liam offered her a way to take some of it back.

✨FAQs:

Do you have an update schedule?

Nope. Fanfic is a hobby for me—I have other responsibilities and a full-time job. I write because it’s fun, and in order for it to stay that way I write and post as I’m able, and sometimes I step away for a week or two to maintain my own sanity. Unless I specifically say it, I promise my fics aren’t abandoned just because it’s been a few days or even weeks without a new chapter. Please don’t ask me about updates!

Do you take requests for fics?

I do not. I write things that I love or am inspired by. Trying to conform to specific requests kind of sucks the joy out of writing for me.

Can I write or draw something inspired by/based on/in the same universe as one of your fics?

Yes. Please just let me know once you post and link back to my work in some way!

Can I bind your fics?

Yes, for personal use only. You may not commission any third party that would make a profit off binding the fic to do the work for you. You may not sell bound copies of my fics. Everything I’ve written has been done for free, as my own personal love letter from me to fandom. Keep fanfiction safe and legal. And send me pictures—I’d love to see your finished projects.

Will you ever write your own book?

I'd love to one day! I have lots of ideas floating around at all times, even though I don't talk about them much. I promise if I ever publish any original works, you'll know.

How long will storm in the quiet be?

Right now I’m estimating about 55-60 chapters—that’s just a best guess, if it changes as we get closer to the end, I’ll update this answer.

Will storm in the quiet have a sequel?

Nope.

Are you going to kill Liam?

No. I promise. I know you’re all traumatized, but please read the tags on AO3. There’s one that says “Liam lives!” and it means he lives all the way to the end and it’s not a joke 😅

When will Xaden and Violet fuck?

Read and find out. I’m not going to give you the chapter number to skip ahead past all the good stuff. Be patient.

✨ other info:

Find some of my favorite book recs here

Some great Fourth Wing fic recs here (my own faves and a lot of other good ones that I missed in the comments)

If you’re interested in what I might be currently reading, click here

[rosiestalez]

Do You Believe in Fate?

Remy LeBeau(Gambit) x M!reader

wc: 790

Summary: A young man takes a visit to an art exhibition not expecting to run into someone who he may never see again!

A/N: Hello, hello! i’m so sorry that this took so long, and i’m so sorry about how short it is. I am obsessed with the meet cute trope right now so that’s what you’re getting… i mean it (i’m sorry i’m being sarcastic)! I’m still trying to work on formatting and aesthetic of my page so thank you for your patience! Also, this is my last Gambit post until further notice! i’m still taking requests, but there’s already five and i want to work on our other faves!

Request by: @gambitsversion

Warnings: language, alcohol, meet cute!!

——————————————————————

Jazz music hummed, and the smell of Beignets, liquor, and smoke filled the air of New Orleans. Y/n makes his way into an art gallery nestled in between two historic buildings, the heat and humidity being left far behind. His eyes gazes upon the room, it’s small, but all the art was large and filled with personality he smiles looking at the beautiful art.

He begins to wander the exhibit taking in each art piece. His eyes lands on a large painting, it’s abstract. He looks at every purple, black, electric detail; he reads the pamphlet, but can’t seem to find the artist of this piece.

“It’s pretty, ain’t it?”, a voice speaks behind him.

Y/n turns his gaze from the painting meeting a pair of oddly black and red eyes. He’s smirking his back is up against the wall, nonchalant and confident. He’s brown leather coat draped over his broad shoulders, and his auburn hair put up, is slightly hued purple from the light in the room.

“I guess so”, he states curiously studying the man, “i’m not really into this.”

The man removed himself from the wall raising an eyebrow, “No? you don’t like it?”

He shrugs, “it feels a bit…chaotic, i don’t really get it.”

“Ah, i see”, he chuckles, “mon ami, sometimes chaos is the meaning”, he smiles.

“Yeah, i guess so”, he smiles back, “and do you happen to be the artist of this chaotic masterpiece?”, pointing his thumb behind him.

“Nah”, he shakes his head, “da name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau, but da people call me da Gambit”, he picks up a glass off a tray, “i like good art and liquor.”

He extends his hand to shake, “y/n”, he says; Remy shakes his hand with a firm grip. Remy smiles and my gosh it’s intoxicating, y/n can’t help, but blush.

“what brings ya over here?”, Remy asks taking a sip of his drink.

“I needed to get away.”

“Away from what?”

“y’know…life?”, he chuckles.

“Why NOLA then? You know it ain no escape”, Remy questions.

“It’s beautiful”, y/n smiles.

“Well, you’s a brave one for comin out here during hurricane season.”

Y/n’s heart flutters, his freckled cheeks growing warm as the conversation continues, “Are you from here?”

“Born and raised, cher”, he smiles.

“Well then I may need a tour guide tomorrow”, y/n bashfully smiles.

“Maybe cher, do ya believe in fate?”, Remy took a couple steps closer to Y/n. The world around him seems to slow down, his breath hitches at the realization of the lack of space.

He clears his throat, “never really thought of it”, his temperature rising, his heart is pounding, yet his thoughts are slow and steady.

“Damn, mon cher, i thought fate was the reason you were here in front of me right now”, he smirks. His eyes lingering on y/n’s face as if he was studying every feature, every freckle, and every imperfection. Y/n feels as though he could melt in Remy’s hands if he would allow it.

Y/n’a heart is racing, at the sudden flirtation from the stranger, “do you always flirt with strangers?”, he asks.

“only tha strangers I like”, he responds.

“Oh, I see”, y/n smirks, he was enamored by him. He was drawn to him, his aura, his eyes, everything, “for some reason, i feel as though you do this a lot, and they fall for it”, Remy just rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe so, but mon cher, right now it’s only you.”

Y/n is silent; he isn’t able to make sentences. It’s like Remy is hypnotizing him in this moment. He’s finally able to form some type of words Remy interrupts y/n’s thoughts.

“Ya know what, cher…give ol’ Remy a chance”, his voice is teasing, yet the tone is still serious, “then maybe you’ll understand where i’m coming from”, he smiles.

In a swift, smooth motion, Gambit slides the Ace of Hearts card into Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s skin for just a moment longer than necessary. Y/N looks down at the card, then back up at Gambit, who was already starting to walk away, casting a final, lingering glance over his shoulder.

“Think about it, cher,” Gambit calls reaching for the door. “Might just be the best gamble you ever take.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the gallery, heart racing and a smile tugging at his lips. He glances down at the Ace of Hearts in his hand, feeling the flutter of excitement that Gambit had left in his wake.

Maybe fate wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[adamantiumspy]

of fractures and fabrications

part 2

pairing: bones x reader

summary: you are captain pike’s daughter and have become inseparable from the enterprise crew, especially jim kirk and leonard mccoy... so when your terrible ex makes a reappearance right when you’re discovering your deeper feelings for bones, only chaos and heartache could ensue

word count: 5380

warnings: swearing, drinking

notes: my first time posting a fic, hope y’all like it! this took me a full month longer to write than I anticipated, and I may be writing this whole fic from bones’ perspective as well...

You never get as much rest during shore leave as your crewmates. While they’re off, free to do whatever they wish with their time, you have to spend a few hours each day back on the docked Enterprise tending to the plant life in the ship’s greenhouses. Jim always insists that you, as a senior science officer, have the authority to pawn off the task to one of your subordinates, but you take pride in doing the work yourself. And lately... well... lately you’re glad for the time alone. For the time away from a certain doctor.

You met Jim and Bones at the Academy, when they were cadets and you were an instructor’s assistant while your ship was on leave. The three of you became thick as thieves in the blink of an eye. Even though your friend group has grown since then, the bond you three share is special. So, a couple months back, when you realized that your feelings for one of your best friends had deepened into something... else... you panicked.

The last time you opened yourself up to feelings was during your own time at the Academy, when you dated a man for four years only to find out he was using you for your connection to your father to get ahead in his career and was fucking your roommate behind your back the whole time. While you know that Bones would never do something like that, the experience has left you scared to be vulnerable again. And Bones is one of your best friends. You aren’t about to ruin your friendship by putting him in the awkward position of having to turn you down.

So you’ve taken to spending more time dedicating yourself to your duties. Here, among the plants, no one will know if you while away the hours daydreaming about the way Bones’ hands would feel cupping your face, how solid his chest would feel against yours, how soft his lips would be...

You snap out of today’s daydreams at the sound of the doors to the greenhouses whooshing open. You look up to see Uhura and Sulu stroll in, the latter looking especially triumphant.

“See? I told you she’d be here,” Sulu says.

You busy yourself with checking each plant’s water level, the task you were doing before your mind wandered. “Of course I’m here. Plants don’t stop living just because everyone else is on leave.”

“C’mon Pike, you can try to deceive the others but you can’t lie to us. We know why you’re really here,” Uhura says.

You mentally curse yourself, regretting a night not too long ago when you, Sulu, and Uhura had gotten drunk and the truth of your feelings for Bones came spilling out of you before you could stop yourself. Since then, they refused to leave you in peace.

“You know, he’s still one of your best friends,” Uhura continues. “He’ll be more suspicious the more you push him away.”

“I’m not pushing him away,” you say quickly, eyes snapping up from the Capellan flower you’re inspecting.

“So then you won’t object to coming out with everyone tonight?” Sulu asks. “Kirk found a new nightclub he thinks we’ll all love and he wants us all to go.”

You swallow.

“I bet if McCoy sees you in something hot it will force him to be much more obvious about the feelings he definitely has for you,” Uhura insists.

“Enough, guys.” You sigh. “I know you want to be helpful, but filling me with false hope isn’t going to work. How many times do I have to say that before you understand?”

Sulu and Uhura share a look, shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Fine,” Sulu says. “Then come out for the rest of us. We care about you and want us all to have some fun.”

You look between Sulu and Uhura, both their eyes wide with hope. You sigh, a smile on the edge of your lips.

“Okay. For you guys.”

Sulu and Uhura cheer.

“Now get out of my greenhouse,” you order, turning back to the plants. “I’ve still got work to do.”

“No you don’t.” Sulu slides up to you, taking the tricorder out of your hands. “I’ll finish up for you. You go with Uhura to get ready for tonight.”

Before you can protest, Uhura grabs you by the arm and drags you out of the greenhouses, off the ship, and across the station to your accommodations. Once you’re back in your assigned room, Uhura dives into your closet. All you can do is sit on the edge of your bed as articles of clothing fly all around you. At one point you have to duck so as not to be hit by one of your hangers. The hurricane of fabric comes to a halt as Uhura unearths a black, figure-hugging, high neck, sleeveless dress with a slit on the side that goes dangerously high.

“No,” you say instantly.

Uhura smiles wickedly. “Yes.”

“No, Nyota–” you start, but Uhura just tosses the dress at you, shoving the rejected garments back into your closet.

“You’ve got two hours to get ready. Meet me in the lobby and we’ll walk over to the club together. If you come down wearing anything but that dress, I am making you turn around and come right back up here to change,” Uhura orders, slipping out of your room before you can voice another protest.

You lay the dress out on your bed. You haven’t worn something like this in a long time, but your friend can be exceedingly stubborn so you decide to let her get her wish.

After a quick shower, you slip on the dress. You put on minimal makeup and decide to leave your hair down, a welcome change from the braided updo you usually do for work. A glance at the clock tells you it’s about time to meet Uhura, so you put on a pair of low heels that match your dress and head out the door.

You meet up with Uhura in the building lobby. She whistles when she sees you.

“That dress looked good on the hanger, but you do it true justice.”

You giggle. “Never stop flirting with me, Nyota. And you don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, I know.” Uhura strikes a pose, showing off her midnight blue dress that seems to shimmer in the low light. She then links arms with you, leaning in. “I’m serious about how good this dress looks on you, but it would look even better on McCoy’s floor.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. “Nyota!”

“What? If he’s not gonna start making moves, I’ve gotta start making moves for him.”

You shake your head. “Not funny. Besides, that is the cheesiest pickup line you could’ve chosen.”

The nightclub isn’t too far from the hotel Starfleet procured for the crew’s shore leave accommodations. By the time you and Uhura arrive, the rest of your friends are already a few drinks deep.

“There you two are! I was about to send a search party!” Jim calls, waving you both over to the bar. Your stomach does a flip the moment you see Bones. The easy smile he shoots you as you approach used to bring you platonic comfort, but now it sets every one of your nerves on fire.

“Woah, darlin’. You look incredible,” Bones says as you and Uhura join the group.

Uhura shoots you a knowing smile. “I know, doesn’t she?”

You ignore Uhura, turning to Bones. “Thank you. Uhura picked it out.”

Jim cuts in, handing you and Uhura a shot. “C’mon!” he exclaims. “Let’s dance!”

You barely have enough time to down the drink and place the glass back on the bar before Jim is dragging you onto the dancefloor. For the next hour you choose to forget all your worries, drinking and dancing with Jim, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. You eventually manage to escape back to the bar, joining Bones and Spock. Bones chuckles as you collapse onto a stool.

“Worn out already?” he teases, flagging down the bartender and motioning for a glass of water.

“It’s been a while since I broke out my dancing shoes,” you reply. “But Jim just doesn’t stop. Where does he get the stamina?”

“I do not know,” Spock says.

Bones wordlessly passes you the water. You take it, nerves tingling at the brush of your fingers against his. The alcohol in your system has made you less cautious, so you beam at him.

“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of water. “You’re always taking care of me.”

You think you see him blush, but you’re sure it’s just the flashing lights playing tricks. Jim and Scotty bound over to the group, gasping for breath.

“You abandoning us already, Pike?” Jim asks, ordering himself another drink.

“Just need a break, is all. Doctor’s orders,” you reply, shooting Bones a begging look.

“That’s right, Jim,” Bones jumps in. “Can’t have one of our best pass out on the dancefloor.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to take her place,” Jim says matter-of-factly.

“Jim, I don’t–” Bones starts, but it’s too late. Jim grabs him by the arm and drags him onto the dancefloor. Within seconds they’re both swallowed up by the crowd.

“Ach, the poor doctor never stood a chance,” Scotty says, shaking his head before turning to you. “Another drink, lass?”

You nod, downing the rest of your water and following it with the shot Scotty hands you. You haven’t felt this warm, this loose in ages, so much so that when your ex-boyfriend and ex-roommate walk into the club it takes a moment for your brain to register it. The second your brain catches up with what your eyes are seeing, you tense up, blood running cold. You feel Spock stiffen beside you. You guess he saw them enter too. Besides Jim and Bones, Spock is the only person who knows about your ex. He was there, after all, studying at the Academy beside you during the whole love affair.

Scotty notices the sudden tension, following both your gazes to see your ex.

“Who’s that?” Scotty asks.

“No one,” you say quickly, turning your back to the door.

But it’s too late. You’re sure he spotted you and before long you hear a throat being cleared behind you. You turn around slowly to see your ex, your backstabbing roommate by his side.

“Long time, no see,” your ex says, his gaze sweeping over you. You say nothing, and neither does Spock, who is scowling at your ex. Scotty takes the scene in before addressing the newcomers.

“My name’s Montgomery Scott. My friends call me Scotty. You are?”

“Matthew Williams. This is my fiancée, Anja Antos.”

You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“It’s nice to meet you, Scotty,” Matthew continues.

“Hold on now, laddie. I said my friends call me Scotty. And it seems like my two friends here don’t care for either of you too much.”

“Oh, that’s just a little grudge they’re holding onto from our Academy days.” Matthew chuckles. “Nothing serious.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, finding your voice again.

Matthew turns his gaze to you. “Our ship’s on shore leave, and we’re out to celebrate. Anja just passed her bridge officer’s test. She’ll be joining me up on the bridge, where all the action is. You’re still working with plants, right Pike? I’m sure that can be exciting too.”

Before you can defend yourself, Spock says, “Dr. Pike is third in command of the Enterprise.”

You see Matthew’s jaw clench. And if looks could kill, the one Anja shoots you certainly would incinerate you on the spot.

“I see we have much more to catch up on than we thought,” Anja says.

“Why don’t you join us?” Matthew asks. “We can grab some drinks and find an empty booth somewhere to continue chatting.”

You can’t think of anything you want to do less than spend more time with Matthew and Anja, but, as if possessed, you find yourself accepting Matthew’s offer. Before you know it, the three of you are situated in a booth, the couple on one side, you on the other.

“So, you’re engaged,” you say, breaking the silence.

Anja and Matthew smile at each other.

“I finally got him to propose,” Anja says, leaning into Matthew. “It’s nice, knowing you have a partner who’s fully committed to you. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can make you feel that way too.”

“You assume I’m single?”

“You’re not?”

You take a sip of your drink. “That’s really none of your business.”

“So,” Matthew cuts in. “Second officer of the Enterprise. When’d you get the promotion?”

You think about your response for a moment. You’re usually not one for showing off your achievements, but you remember how badly Matthew wanted to command his own ship and how much he hurt you when you wouldn’t help him the way he wanted. So fuck him.

“A few years back,” you say. “When my father was still in command of the Enterprise. Starfleet’s offered me my own ship a couple times since then, but I keep turning them down.”

You see anger flash in Matthew’s eyes. You definitely got to him. Before you can say anything else, Jim and Bones plop into the seats beside you.

“There you are. We were wondering where you’d disappeared to.” Jim grins at you, before turning to the other half of the table. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jim Kirk, he’s Leonard McCoy. You are?”

“Matthew Williams and Anja Antos,” Matthew replies. Anja’s eyes rake over Jim and Bones.

“Matthew and Anja,” Jim repeats, turning back to you. “That Matthew and Anja?”

You give a slight nod and instantly both Jim and Bones throw their arms across the back of your seat, scooching closer to you, as if they coordinated it beforehand.

“We’ve heard lots about you, Matthew,” Bones says, barely concealing his distaste. “About you both.”

“And how do you two know Pike?” Anja asks

“We’re her boyfriends,” Jim says.

You choke on your drink.

“I mean, we’re also coworkers,” Jim continues. “I’m the captain of the Enterprise, McCoy’s the CMO, and Pike’s one of my science officers. But I feel like the whole relationship thing supersedes all that.”

Time seems to slow as your mind calculates both outcomes to this situation. Either you correct Jim’s lie and are forced to endure Anja and Matthew’s gloating as they hold your perpetual singleness over your head. Or... Or you lean into the lie, transform your strong friendships into a three-way relationship, and in the process allow yourself to let your guard down, wear your feelings for Bones on your sleeve without fear of reproach.

So you lean into the lie, and against Bones’ chest. Your hand reaches out towards Jim, taking his hand in yours, fingers curling together. Bones drapes his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. You look over to see Matthew and Anja taking the scene in.

“You’re both her boyfriends?” Matthew asks incredulously.

“Yep,” Bones replies.

“So how’d you all end up together?” Anya asks challengingly.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you tell them?” Jim turns to you.

“Yeah, you tell the story best,” Bones adds.

You realize they’re letting you set the stage as a way to make up for blind-siding you. You decide to start with the truth.

“We all met at the Academy. Jim and Leonard were cadets and I was an instructor’s assistant. We became fast friends.”

“And... what? You fell into a relationship?” Matthew asks.

“No, no, not all at once,” you say, gaining confidence. “It started with me and Jim. He was a charmer, swept me off my feet. Nobody knows how to make me laugh like Jim does. And it was just the two of us for a while, until one day I woke up and realized I’d fallen in love with Leonard.”

The words you’ve been too scared to even think just spill out of you. You look at Bones to see him smiling at you and you have to remind yourself that none of this is real. That his happiness at your declaration is a fabrication.

“In hindsight, I should’ve seen it coming,” you continue, eyes still on Bones. “Loving Leonard is like breathing, always there but you’re never aware of it unless you concentrate hard enough.” You shoot Matthew and Anya a look. “I told Jim immediately because I’m not a cheater. To my surprise he said he was willing to share, providing Leonard felt the same.”

“And you two are happy with sharing?” Matthew asks.

“We’re happy with any bit of love we can get from her. She’s an incredible woman.” Jim grins.

“If it were up to us,” Bones says, “we’d be married already.”

Your stomach flips, mind racing with images of you and Bones as a married couple. Waking up next to him every morning, dropping by the medbay just because, him visiting you in the greenhouses because he misses you, sharing his last name...

You can feel his eyes on you, but you stop yourself from looking at him again, afraid that he’ll see beyond the performance, straight into your heart. Instead, you glance at Matthew and Anja. They are shooting each other knowing looks.

“Baby,” Anja says, addressing Matthew. “I need a new drink.”

“Of course,” Matthew replies, turning to the other half of the table. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

As Matthew and Anja move towards the bar, Jim whispers, “I don’t think they fully bought it.”

“Of course they didn’t buy it,” you whisper back. “They were never gonna buy me having two partners. They still think no one would associate themselves with me of their own free will.”

“They’ll buy it if you kiss one of us.”

You widen your eyes at Jim. “If I what?”

You are suddenly acutely aware of the fact you’re still leaning against Bones.

“If you’re worried about our willingness, darlin’, don’t be,” Bones says. “Jim and I got you into this mess and we’re gonna get you out of it. The last thing we want is for those two assholes to think they’ve one-upped you.”

You look between Jim and Bones, both of them watching and waiting for you to act. Once again, your analytical mind processes the two possible scenarios. If you pick Jim, then maybe you can get out of this with a little less heartbreak. But if you pick Bones... well... this could be your only chance to know what it would be like to kiss him.

You tilt your face up and press your lips against Bones’. You focus on how soft his lips feel against yours, committing the sensation to memory. You let yourself pretend, for a moment, that this is a real kiss. That the gentle hand Bones places against your cheek and the parting of his lips to deepen the kiss are because he wants you too, not because he’s helping you get back at your shitty ex and his shitty fiancée.

The kiss ends from a need for oxygen more than anything else. You both take in air, breaths mingling in the space between you, but you don’t pull away and neither does Bones. Your heart is beating so fast, so loud you bet the whole club can hear it over the thumping music.

“Did they see?” you finally murmur.

“Yeah, they saw,” Jim confirms.

You pull away from Bones, heart and head still spinning.

“I, uh... I think I need some air,” you say.

Jim rises to let you out of the booth, retaking his seat once you’re standing. Before you slip away, you lean down and press a kiss against Jim’s cheek.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“I’ve allegedly got two boyfriends, don’t I?” you reply.

You hear Jim chuckle behind you as you make your way out of the club. Once outside, you close your eyes and take in deep breaths of the filtered space station air, emptying your mind of everything that just happened because if you think about it for too long you know you’ll start to spiral. Inevitably, though, your thoughts start to creep back in.

You curse the part of you that loses all semblance of reason when Matthew and Anja are around. If you had a better handle on your emotions, you wouldn’t end up in situations like these, the pair of them digging more knives into your already fractured being. And you wouldn’t have to rely on Jim and Bones to bail you out.

Oh god. Bones.

Your fingers brush against your lips. You were so flustered after the kiss you forgot to take in his expression, couldn’t remember if he’d been happy or disappointed. Then you remind yourself it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that it was the most perfect kiss, soft and sweet just like all your daydreams. He had done it out of duty.

Maybe you should’ve kissed Jim instead.

“Pike?”

You jump, whirling around to see Chekov. His eyes widen.

“I am sorry! I did not mean to startle you. You looked upset as you were leaving and so I thought I would check if you are okay.”

You relax, smiling at him. “I will be. Thank you, Chekov. I just... got a little overwhelmed.”

Chekov nods, gesturing back at the club. “Are you going to come back in?”

You glance at the door to the club, feeling nauseous at the mere thought of facing Matthew and Anja again, or having to look Bones in the face with the ghost of his kiss still on your lips.

“Actually,” you say, “I think I’m going to head back. Will you tell the others I’ve gone?”

Chekov nods. “Do you want company on your walk back?”

“No, thank you. I’ll be alright.”

You watch as Chekov heads back into the club, then start walking towards your accommodations. However, your mind begins to wander and before you know it you’re back on the Enterprise, heading towards the greenhouses. You decide to keep going, figuring you can get a head start on tomorrow’s work while simultaneously distracting yourself from the feelings you don’t want to process right now.

You’re eleven plants in when you hear movement down the hall. You freeze. All crew members have the same access to the ship on shore leave as they do when on duty, but no one has a reason to be on the ship at this hour. There are no phasers in the greenhouses, so you grab a pair of shears and make your way out of the botanical labs, creeping down the hallway towards the sound.

You find yourself outside the medbay, sounds of activity coming from inside. You step forward, the doors whooshing open. Inside you find a man, right hand and face littered with cuts, many still oozing blood. Bruises also cover his hand and face, but the largest one is blooming under his left eye. The man is covered in so many wounds it takes you a full three seconds to recognize one of your best friends.

“Jesus Christ, Len!” you exclaim, rushing into the medbay, dropping the shears onto the closest surface.

“Easy, darlin’,” Bones says. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad as it looks!” You raise a hand and grab a hold of his face by the chin, turning his head this way and that to assess all the cuts and bruises. You then turn your attention to his bloody, bruised hand, noting how he’s not moving his fingers. That’s a bad sign.

“You wouldn’t’ve even seen me like this if I hadn’t run out of my damn first aid supplies earlier today. Keenser’s still oozing that highly acidic green goo and a coupla lieutenants got caught in the crossfire.” Bones huffs a laugh, before cocking his head towards your shears. “What were you gonna do if it wasn’t me? Snip the intruder to death?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” You eye him for a moment. “Okay, go get on that bed over there.”

“What?”

“I’m playing doctor tonight. I’ll collect the supplies and meet you over there.”

“Darlin’, I can patch myself up just fine.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. Now go on. Get,” you say, waving him towards the bed.

Bones gives a slight smile before heading towards the bed. You turn back to the supply cabinet, grabbing a metal tray and loading it with healing salve, bandages, rubbing alcohol, cotton squares, and a tricorder. You pause, giving yourself a moment to bottle up all the feelings you’d been ignoring. Bones needs you as a friend right now. You’re not gonna let your love for him get in the way of that.

You find Bones sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side. You plop the tray down on the bed beside him.

“The other guy better look worse,” you say, falling into the usual banter you share as you grab the rubbing alcohol, dump a bit on a cotton square, and start to clean the wounds on his hand.

“Trust me, he does,” Bones says, grimacing as you move his hand.

You frown at his reaction, putting the cotton square down and grabbing the tricorder. “Oh yeah? Must’ve done something real bad if he made you do something like this. This isn’t really your style. Jim, on the other hand...” You finish scanning his hand, frown deepening at the readings. Before Bones can say anything, you say, “You’ve got a hairline fracture at your wrist. You’ll need a brace for that, right?”

Bones nods. “We’ve got some over in that cabinet.”

You walk over to the cabinet Bones identified, grabbing the appropriate brace then walking back to Bones.

“I’m gonna add some salve to your hand before I put on the brace to help with the cuts. I’ll try my best not to hurt you.”

Bones nods again. You apply the healing salve as quickly and carefully as possible. Bones gives the occasional wince and you find yourself absentmindedly rubbing your thumb along the side of his hand in comfort. When you catch yourself doing it, you stop abruptly, now acutely aware of the weight of his hand in yours. Before you can stop yourself, your mind wanders to a daydream, one where Bones’ hands are splayed across your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips on yours...

You come back to reality, mentally berating yourself as you grab some bandages to wrap Bones’ hand, hoping he didn’t notice your mind wander. If he did, he doesn’t say anything, watching you as you finish wrapping his hand and slip the brace on. Bones adjusts the straps on the brace to his satisfaction as you grab a fresh cotton square, add rubbing alcohol, and move to the cuts on his face. For easier access, you slot yourself between his legs and try to ignore the sudden fluttering in your stomach at the proximity.

“What were you thinking, Len? You’re a surgeon. You kinda need your hands to do your job.” You start to clean the wounds on his face.

“My hand will heal. Besides, if I hadn’t, Jim would’ve. Hell, Spock would’ve.” Bones winces as you pass the cotton square over the largest of the cuts.

“Spock? Our Spock?” you ask incredulously, dumping the squares on the tray and reaching for the healing salve. You apply small dabs of the salve on his facial wounds.

“Sulu and Scotty nearly had to hold him back,” Bones says.

“Jesus. Who was this guy and what did he do?”

“It was Matthew.”

You freeze, focusing your gaze to meet Bones’.

“What did... what did he say?” you ask quietly.

Bones keeps his eyes on you. “He was talkin’ shit, insulting you. Started by sayin’ you only got into the Academy because of your dad. It only escalated from there. The middle part’s a bit fuzzy, but I remember he said something about how the only reason you’re still on the Enterprise is because you’re fucking the captain and the CMO. Which is just...” Bones clenches his jaw in anger. “Maybe sleeping with Jim would come with perks, but me? You outrank me. Sleeping with me wouldn’t... Anyway, I wasn't gonna let his comments slide, and neither was Jim. Our made-up three-way relationship aside, you are one of the only people in all of Starfleet that’s worth a damn. You run circles around both of those assholes. We tried to tell them to fuck off, but they wouldn’t listen. Chekov was holding Jim back, Sulu and Scotty were blocking Spock, and I guess Uhura thought I’d be rational enough not to get violent. She thought wrong. It was all over before it really started, lots of broken glass and spilled drinks, but I got a few good punches in.”

You lean up and press a kiss against Bones’ cheek, stunning him into silence.

“Wha... What was that for?” he finally asks.

“For defending my honor,” you say. “Thank you, Len.”

“Here I was thinkin’ you’d be upset.”

“Matthew’s an asshole. Anja too. They could get blown up on a starship for all I care.”

Bones chuckles as you finish lathering his injuries in the healing salve. You wipe your hand of excess salve and then grab the bandages. Bones lets you continue to work in silence, watching you as you place butterfly bandages on the largest of his facial wounds.

“Okay,” you say. “All done.”

“Got me all patched up, Doc?” Bones teases.

“As best I could.” You gather all the used supplies and place them on the metal tray. “You’ll need to ice that black eye and change the bandages every once in a while, but you already knew that. And I’m guessing you know how long you need to wear that brace for, or will at least have M’Benga look you over as soon as possible.”

Bones nods. “Thank you, darlin’. You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Len. I care about you. This is the least I would do for someone I care about.”

Bones says nothing for a moment, then, “I love when you call me Len.”

You blink. Before you can stop yourself, you say, “I love when you call me darlin’.”

You both stare at each other. You open your mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, but Bones beats you to it.

“I wanted to say sorry.”

You furrow your brow. Of everything he could’ve possibly said in that moment, the last thing you expected of him was an apology.

“What for?” you ask.

“For everything back at the club. Jim and I should’ve told you what we had planned beforehand. And I’m especially sorry you had to kiss me.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you, Len. I chose to.”

“Still, you wouldn’t’ve if we hadn’t put you in an awkward position.”

“That’s not true,” you blurt out, immediately cursing yourself.

Bones blinks at you, eyes flicking to your lips. Neither of you moves, simultaneously too afraid to stick to the status quo or break it.

Fuck it.

You kiss him, softly at first, but when he sighs against your lips and wraps his arms around your waist you press yourself against him, parting your lips to deepen the kiss. You cup his face in your hands, mindful of his injuries.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You pull back. “You love me?”

Bones gives you a soft smile. “C’mon, darlin’, you must’ve known.”

You shake your head. “Uhura and Sulu tried to tell me, but I thought they were just teasing me.”

“Why would that tease you?”

“Because I love you.” You run your thumbs across his cheeks. “God, Len, I am so in love with you.”

Bones pulls you into another kiss. You giggle against his lips.

“What?” Bones asks.

“Uhura and Sulu are going to be insufferable for a while,” you say.

Bones grins. “You think they’re going to be insufferable? Wait until Jim finds out.”

You both laugh. Then you kiss him again. And again. And again.

[baby-yongbok]

Manipulation

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

-`♡´- Genre: Angst? Fluff? Both? Yeah... both. [Supernatural themes]

-`♡´- Summary: Jisung is all that you have and you're all that he wants.

-`♡´- Word Count: 6k

-`♡´- Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Like, a lot, though no one ever bleeds), Supernatural themes (Jisung and Reader have supernatural abilities), Violence (Not the physical type), Mentions of smoking weed (While driving/ do not do this please) and drinking (Not while driving), Speeding (Please don't so that, drive safely.), It gets a bit suggestive for a second, Interaction with law enforcement. [I think that's all.]

-`♡´- A/N: So, I'm a perfectionist and I get nervous when I can't write or post when I want to. I just started a new job and I'm applying to new colleges so ya girl is stressed out. To top it all off I got sick with the worst Hay Fever I've ever had today and I can't breathe (Love that for me). Soooo I had to reach into my vault and see what I haven't posted yet and I found this! This story is something that I wasn't sure that anyone would actually like 😭. I wanted to take a shot at writing something supernatural so here it is! I hope that you don't think that it sucks!+ the reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡. All feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading! 💗

-`♡´- Note - Hemokinesis or Blood Manipulation is the ability to control and manipulate blood.

-`♡´- Masterlist -`♡´-

We should have never met but the fact that we did means that chaos is a naturally occurring thing in this world. Why do I say that? Let’s just say that Jisung and I are not the type of people that you want around. We’re the exact opposite. Degenerates. The evil in a good situation, and we whole heartedly don’t give a fuck about the damage we cause because the only thing that matters is the fact that we have each other. We’ll always have each other. Now, what could we possibly do that’s so bad? We manipulate, but not in the way that you’d expect.

“Hey, bubs?” Turning to face Jisung from my spot in front of my closet I feel my legs weaken beneath me as I stumble backwards a bit, using the door frame behind me to keep me up. The feeling is gone just as fast as it came and I take a second to ground myself before flashing a well deserved middle finger in Jisung’s direction.

“Fuck you with the iron manipulation.” He erupts into a fit of laughter as I abandon the task of trying to locate the bag that he lent me that I’m more than sure is buried in my closet. I was going to be nice and finally return it but after that stunt I think that I’ll keep it for a bit longer. “You think you’re so funny.” I sit on the edge of my bed, glaring at my best friend as his laughs intertwine with the music playing from my speakers. He always gets a kick out of using his abilities on me, he’s had his fun now I’ll have mine. I lift my hand towards Jisung and his laughter stops instantly. 

“Yeah?” With a grin Jisung looks around aimlessly. “Gonna take my sight away? You’re playing dirty now.” 

“Oh am I? Come get me, Ji.” Standing and backing away from my bed a bit, I keep my control over his sight as he reaches out in front of him, swatting his hand in an attempt to hit me. I mimic his earlier laughter as he struggles to navigate the newfound darkness. 

“Ya know, the good thing about my abilities is that, if I want them to, they apply to everyone in the room no matter if I can see you or not.” He clenches his fist and my body stiffens. “So now, you’re locked in place and I definitely can find you.” Standing carefully from the bed he holds his hands out to keep from banging into anything. I try to speak but the blood in my body is literally frozen under Jisung’s control, don’t ask me how I’m even still alive with one of the most important units of my life force frozen inside of me, I don’t know the answer. Nobody does. That’s why Jisung’s ability is so dangerous, it doesn’t make any sense. The only thing that I do know is that if I try to retaliate even a little I’ll be on Jesus’s doorstep. 

“Mmm, I can hear you breathing.” He chuckles a bit as he takes his final step before bumping right into me. Unclenching his fist and freeing my blood from his bind he catches me as my body gives out from the sudden blood rush. His sight restores itself as I release my bind on his vision. 

“Got ya” Looking up at him with angry eyes we both can’t help but to erupt into laughter. This is what we do, we use our powers to mess with each other and get what we want. There’s only a select few of us who can do the things we do, why would we want to waste it by doing what society wants us to? I understand that we can be troublesome from time to time like when we crash parties… or cars, but this isn’t our fault I swear.

If people didn’t think that we were monsters maybe we’d behave differently. If people didn’t think that Jisung was a criminal then maybe he’d be more willing to calm down. But no, because he is the only living person with hemokinesis in this city that we know of, he’s labeled as high risk and everyone is constantly on his back the moment he steps outside. There’s never been anyone willing to get to know him until he met me during our freshmen year of university. People aren’t too fond of me either, I guess having the ability to manipulate bodily function is scary? Seems pretty mundane to me. We were outcasts so naturally we gravitated towards each other and before we knew it we were best friends, partners in crime that promised to protect each other from everyone's nasty comments and condescending stares. That was short lived though because we both dropped out of university a month after we met. 

The sound of The Neighborhood playing blares through my room and cuts through our laughter as we start to dance a bit as I regain my composure and even out my breathing. He sways me as we dance hand in hand through my dim bedroom before pushing me back onto the mattress and plopping down next to me. 

“You know what would make this Friday night a real win?” He asks and I look over at him. “Weed and a couple of beers.” 

“Then what are we still doing here? You’re driving.” Sitting up and grabbing my sweater next to my bed I stand with Jisung as we put our shoes on and grab our stuff. We leave my bedroom and cut through the kitchen to avoid my brother and father in the living room. The worst thing about dropping out of college is having to still live with the little bit of family I have left. Rent costs an arm and a leg around here so right now my minimum wage job won’t cut it. 

“Going out.” I call to them.

We hear quick footsteps approach as I reach for the doorknob, before I can turn it completely my father appears to the left of us catching our attention. “Where are you headed?” He only wants to know so that he can listen out for any gossip later. He knows that Jisung and I will be the talk of the town if we do anything too extreme. I’ve learned that what everyone else finds to be extreme is very different from what we think. Death is extreme to us, a fire or a house crumbling to the ground, those are extreme events. To everyone else, either of us breathing is enough to get the damn president to send out the troops. 

“Not sure yet, gonna drive around a bit.” I notice my step-brother standing behind my dad glaring at Jisung from over his shoulder. “Oh, Ji didn’t you want to head by that store?” 

I take Jisung’s hand in mine and interlock our fingers. Both my father and brother’s eyes lock in on the gesture and they both seem to try and stop themselves from having a visceral reaction, they failed.  Jisung catches on quickly and joins in on my little game. “Yeah, I did, they have a huge parking lot and it’s always busy. I thought we could go and put on a show.” 

Jisung nudges me suggestively and I genuinely chuckle in response. What makes me laugh harder is my brother, San’s clenched jaw and my dads disgusted yet furious gaze locked on Jisung. I can tell that he’s praying that it’s a joke, praying that he and I aren’t really dating or fucking or anything like that. I’m sure that he would rather be stoned to death than hear me say that Jisung and I are dating. He’s so lucky that we’re not.

“Relax, I’m joking.”  Jisung says before opening the front door and placing his hand on the small of my back. “It’s always empty so it’ll be a private show.” 

I can’t help the laughter that escapes me as Jisung leads me out of the front door, swiftly closing it behind us. My dad calls after me but we just hurry over to his car like we didn’t hear him. “I’ll take good care of her.” Jisung yells back towards the house before sliding into the front seat and slamming the door closed. 

“You’re horrible.” I scoff as I buckle myself in.

“You started it.” He shrugs as he starts his horribly old pick up truck and pulls out of the driveway.

As funny as that was, I know that I’m going to hear an earful later, especially from San, he’d kill Jisung if he could and I know that for a fact. San despises anyone with abilities but he has a special hate for Jisung, he’s gone on endless rants over the years hoping that one day I’d suddenly agree that he’s right and that Jisung is a monster, that day hasn’t come and it never will. 

“You grab the beer, I’ll stock up on snacks.”  Jisung says as he shuts his car off and steps into the gas station parking lot. 

“Roger that.” I coughed a bit before ashing the tip of the blunt we were sharing. I’d be lying if I said that the weed we’ve been smoking for the past fifteen minutes wasn’t starting to get to me. I have a much lower tolerance than Jisung but you would never be able to tell since I’ve mastered the art of hiding it. Doing recreational drugs isn’t exactly welcomed at my house with my father being a part of the city government. Oh, did I forget to mention that my dad is the city attorney? How else do you think that Jisung and I are still walking free after all of the shit we get into. My dad might hate the guy but he’s saved us both more times than I can count.

We waltz into the store and go our separate ways to complete our mission. I head right over to the fridge housing our desired golden liquid and grab two cases, one of my favorite brand and one of Jisung’s. As I’m walking up to the front of the store I hear what sounds like aggravated voices going back and forth, when did that start? It was silent a second ago. As I get closer I realize that it’s the store clerk ranting at a now very aggravated Jisung. Seriously? We just left the house. 

“All the stores in the area and this kid had to pick mine. We don’t serve the likes of you here.”  Jisung hasn’t said more than two words to the guy since I’ve been standing here. He just lets him go on and on since we’re very used to this type of thing happening. They complain, take our money, complain some more and then we leave. 

“If you’d let me pay I can leave.” Jisung states matter of factly as he slaps a twenty on the counter. “ I’ll take those cases too.” 

I walk up next to him and place the cases on the counter. “I got this” I slip in front of Jisung and smile at the man behind the counter. He’s pissing me off but he doesn’t have to know that. I often try to intervene before things get too out of hand, especially when Jisung is high. He already has a fairly short temper and for some reason it’s way worse when he’s under the influence. 

“This is all, sir.” I say to the clerk as I pick up the twenty and extend my arm towards him.

“You’re with that degenerate? Aren’t you Choi’s daughter?” Closing my eyes tightly I sigh keeping my arm extended towards him. Of course he recognises me, just wonderful. One of the downsides to being the city attorney’s daughter is that almost everyone knows your face. This is why I stopped going to those Godforsaken press conferences. “You’re gonna get yourself killed hanging with him.”

“No, it’s you that’s going to get yourself killed.” Jisung protests as he lifts his hand in that insufferable man’s direction. 

“Ji, come on” The clerk behind the counter instantly starts to moan in pain so I assume that he is using his Thermovariance, in other words, he’s boiling his fucking blood. Not enough to kill him, just enough to nearly get a steam rolling. 

“Han, seriously, let's just go.” He’s a sucker for me calling him Han, I never understood why but I don’t care as long as it gets me what I want.

He sighs, dropping his hand and rolling his eyes at me. He’s pissed off and I understand that but I’m not trying to build a criminal record at this age, maybe in my late twenties but not now. “Leave the cash, let's go before I empty him.” Placing the money down on the counter I grab some of the snacks and one of the cases of beer and leave the rest for Jisung to grab.

“Have a good night” I called over to the disoriented clerk before getting back into the car. 

“I’m way too high for this shit.”  Jisung groans as he lights a new blunt before starting the car. He takes a long drag before passing it to me and driving off. We get some ways down the road in comfortable silence before he breaks the barrier.

 “Why do you still hang out with me?” I can barely hear his question over the music but he looks at me expectantly anyway. I shrug as I stare forward and focus on the passing streetlights.

“To piss off my dad obviously.” Jisung scoffs, snatching the blunt from me and bringing it to his lips.

“I always knew you were using me.” He shakes his head as he blows a thick stream of smoke through his nose in a deep exhale. “Such a bitch.”

Neither of us can contain our laughter as we fan at the cloud of smoke surrounding us. He may have asked a serious question but he knew that I wouldn’t give him a serious answer. We save the serious stuff for when we’re so stoned that we can hear colors and taste sounds, this is only the beginning. 

“If I can’t use you for sex then I might as well use you for something.” 

“And why can’t you use me for sex?” He quips back with a light chuckle. My red eyes meet his for a split second before looking down at the blunt that he’s passing me. 

“Well first of all that’s disgusting and second of all I’m not trying to have my brother actually kill you. The only reason he hasn’t is because he knows that we’re just playing around.” I lean forward to ash the blunt on the dashboard and open the window to air out the car, the smoke mixed with the obvious sexual tension in here is suffocating. 

There wasn’t an ounce of truth to me saying that fucking Jisung would be disgusting and he knows that, we’ve talked about this more than once. He thinks I’m hot which I find hard to believe since I’m not really a reflection of the girls that he likes to date. I’m thick, a lot thicker than anyone he’s ever slept with but he’s gone on several rants about just how much he loves my body so I have no reason to doubt the validity of his statement. Jisung on the other hand is exactly my type, honey skin and soft brown hair with a beautifully toned body and an impossibly tiny waist. He’s unreal and he knows it. Despite his social status there are a slew of women who are dying to piss off their families by having him dick them down in the backseat of his car on any given tuesday. They use him as revenge bait and he knows it but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to nut. 

We’ve talked about things that friends normally discuss like when we lost our virginity or how many times we’ve touched ourselves thinking about each other, it’s all water under the bridge for us… I think. The tension between us always builds a bit higher on nights like this, I mean who doesn’t get horny when they’re high right? But on a serious note I can’t fuck Jisung no matter how attracted to him I might be because that would complicate things and he’s the only uncomplicated thing in my life. My dad and step-brother haven’t been the same since we lost my mom five years ago and then a week after that my sister fell to the same fate. My only remaining blood sibling wants nothing to do with any of us and San and I have an intricate relationship to say the least. Sleeping with my best friend would be like setting myself up for failure. 

“First of all, that’s rude and second of all your brother loves me.” The teasing tone in his voice fades into a chuckle that prompts an eye roll from me. 

“Do you want to kill everyone that you love?” He shrugs and hums lightly before glancing over at me with his eyebrows raised and his lips pulled into a thin line. “Fuck you, Ji.”

He laughs, eyes focused on the nearly empty street in front of him as we stop at a light. “I hope you know that I'd kill him before he kills me.” Jisung glances over at me, his features are cold and serious. I stare back at him, mirroring his expression the best I can before cracking a small smile. “I know where we can hide the body.”

“Fucking maniac.” He scoffs with a smile and I laugh with him. He turns onto the highway and I turn the radio up to a deafening volume. 

“Speed up, what’re ya scared?” I reach up and open the sunroof and Jisung watches me as he bops his head to the music. He lets down all of the windows as I stand on my seat and stick my upper half out of the sunroof just as he speeds up. He’s probably going ten over the limit right now but I don’t see any cops around and there are barely any cars on the road. He starts racing imaginary cars, weaving between lanes and effectively throwing me side to side as I try to enjoy the night breeze. This has been my thing since I was a kid, my mom would let me stand in the car as my dad sped down the highway, she’d let me climb onto the middle console and stick my arms up out of the sunroof while she held me in place. It was dangerous but it was so much fun, so freeing.

The vibration of the bass shook the car as it glided down the highway. My skirt blew in the wind rushing through the window as Jisung sped up bit by bit. Suddenly, I feel warmth on my thigh and all of my concentration goes to that spot. Jisung’s fingers trail up my leg and caress the skin peaking out in the diamonds of my fishnet stockings. Though he and I agree that we could never fuck each other the bond that we foster isn’t exactly conventional. We like to touch each other, he’ll rub my thigh or hold me from behind casually and I reciprocate his actions on a regular basis. This is our normal, the part that’s new to me is the slow trail that his hand is making towards my heat. I can hear him singing the song on the radio as he speeds up just a bit more, probably hitting 85 in the 60 by now. His hand continues up my thigh, moving to the side to trace the curve of my hip. 

“Fuck.” I hear him exasperate as I process the sound of police sirens behind us. I crawl back down into my seat and put my seatbelt on. We turn down the music completely and pull over to the shoulder of the highway. I reach into the glove compartment and hand Jisung his registration and we both take our licenses and ability identification cards and place them on the dashboard along with our open hands. When you get pulled over with an abilities like ours, some officers like to try and get a reaction out of you. The last time we got pulled over I was the only thing stopping Jisung from literally killing the officer that decided to get handsy with him.

The officer approaches the window like a snail crossing the street and we both sigh. We exchange knowing looks and I start silently praying to myself, please don’t let this man be an asshole. Once he reaches the window he looks us both over before silently reaching into the car to grab Jisung’s identification and registration “How are you doing tonight, kids.” He checks the registration then his License and lastly his ability card. Jisung and I opt to stay quiet and offer no more than a meek nod in his direction.

“What are you two doing out tonight?” The officer asks as he shines his flashlight in Jisung’s face. His eyes trail up and down Ji’s frame, sizing him up. 

“We’re going on a date.” Jisung shrugs as he makes eye contact with the officer. 

“A date, huh? Where to?”

“Well, sir, I’m trying to surprise my lovely girlfriend here so if it’s alright with you, I'll keep that to myself.” He smiles up at the officer teasingly. The less he knows the better.

“I see.”

“May I ask why we were stopped? Are we getting a ticket?” 

“You were going twenty over the speed limit, I’ll let you love birds off with a warning this time.” The officer pauses before looking over at me. “ I’ll warn you especially ma’am, be careful with this kid he’s dangerous.”

Satisfied with himself, the officer smiles down at the irritated man in the driver's seat. “You two be careful alright? There was some commotion over at the gas station some ways from here. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would ya?” the officer drops all of the collected information into Ji’s lap as he looks between us. 

“Not at all, if we hear anything we’ll be sure to call the station.” I didn’t plan on lying to a cop tonight but I guess this is fine. He looks between us clearly trying to spook us but we’re unfazed, it’s gonna take a lot more than staring behind some black out shades to intimidate us.

“Alright, well then I’ll let you kids go, have a good night.” He starts to walk away but doubles back suddenly, bending down to the window. “And try to sober up a bit before heading home.”

He stalks away again, quicker than when he came and Jisung and I do our best not to laugh. “That was fucking close, is it that obvious that we’re stoned?”

I can’t help the laugh that erupts from my throat as I stuff my ID back into my wallet. Jisung stares at me in confusion as he mimics my actions.

“Dude, we have two cases of beer in the backseat and we literally hot boxed your car a couple of minutes ago. We smell like a dispensary and your eyes are glowing red.” He hurriedly looks into the rearview mirror and examines his appearance.

“ Fuck, you’re right.” He fixes the mirror and sighs, we sit in silence for a bit before he speaks up. “Can you pass me the eyedrops out of the glove compartment?”

“Yeah, sure.” I start searching through the glove compartment but I stop when a waft of smoke floats in my direction. I side eye Jisung as he takes a small drag of the blunt and blows it out of the window.

“Want a hit?” He offers me the blunt with raised brows and I scoff before continuing my search. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“Which one is your favorite?” I ask Jisung as I raise my beer bottle to my lips. After some more aimless driving we ended up going to our favorite spot in some woods just outside of town. It’s the perfect spot for us to be left alone with our antics. We turn the car radio up and rotate between laying in the pick up bed of his car and sitting on a huge rock that we’ve claimed as our own. Right now the blankets spread out in the back of his pick up are way too cozy and inviting to pass up on since it’s gotten a bit chilly out.

“Which what?”

“Which part of your ability?” He looks over at me with a slight blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. He takes a swig of his beer and swiftly follows with a drag of our third shared blunt. I suggested that we stop a long time ago but Jisung insisted on pushing the limits tonight. I’m pretty fucked up from the cross fade of weed and alcohol but I’ll never admit that and I wont have to because the rosy blush on my caramel skin is a dead giveaway.

“Why do you want to know?” A shy laugh slips from his lips and I shrug, it’s just a question why is he getting shy?

“Curious, If you tell me yours I’ll tell you mine.”

“I like that I can control blood flow, it comes in handy.” With furrowed brows I take a swig of my drink while racking my brain trying to figure out how such a thing could be useful. 

“How so?” 

“Ahh.. that, my dear, is something I’d have to show you and I don’t think you want me to show you what I use that for.” He explains turning to me slightly. I mimic his movements turning my body to him and giving him my full attention. 

“Show me.”

“Seriously, I don’t think - “

“What’re ya scared? I thought the Amazing- Bloodbending- Han Jisung wasn’t scared of anything?” My teasing seemed to get to him just a bit, so naturally I continued. “The Jisung that I’m always hearing about is some confident, daring and dangerous man who isn't scared of anything.”

“Fuck it.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me closer to him so that he can put his arm around me. He moves to put his beer down and free his other hand while I watch him in confusion. 

“What are you-” He rolls his eyes, turning back to face me.

“You begged for it and now you want to back out? What’re ya scared?” He mocks my previous question and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“Shut up, I’m just confused.” 

“Trust me, bubs.” He looks me over slowly, too slowly. What's going on here? “Have I ever hurt you before? Okay, wait, don't answer that. Have I ever hurt you on purpose?” With a slight laugh I shake my head. 

“Then relax and let me know if you get uncomfortable.” Without another word from either of us and some rock indie rock song blasting on the radio Jisung takes a deep breath and rubs his fingers together. He then lightly touches my knee and guides my legs apart. I furrow my brows again before he places the palm of his hand over my pelvic bone and I start to feel a euphoric rush in my stomach and legs. The feeling works its way up and down to fill every inch of my body. My core starts to pulse and drip as Jisung watches me closely with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“W- what are you -” 

“I increased blood flow to your… you know. It’s like an instant turn on.” The air around me feels thick and I find myself fighting the urge to whine at the building pressure, am I about to… no way, I can’t cum from this. Impossible. “This is my favorite part of my ability.” A shy smile crosses his blushed lips and I can’t help but to stare at them. I always stare but never when he can catch me, I always wonder how they’d feel against my lips and skin. I’ve always wanted to taste them. Woah, what the fuck? No, I can’t think things like that, not about him.

“Okay, cool you c-can stop now.” His eyes stare down at me with a heated gaze, boring holes into my skin. His eyes switch focus between my eyes and my lips as he reluctantly moves his hand. I sigh in relief as I feel my body start to cool down but it’s not enough, I still feel the blistering heat of need crawling under my skin. Fuck, why did he have to show me that? It’s bad enough that we’re out here ten minutes to midnight while I’m in a skimpy skirt and he’s in a tight black tank top. He let me borrow his jacket when the wind picked up and now I want nothing more than to give it back to maybe extinguish these hot and disgusting thoughts running through my head.

“Remember our deal about not fucking?” I stare up at him, wide eyed and feeling vulnerable. “What does that apply to?” 

“What do you… what do you mean?” Suddenly it feels like he never even moved his hand. My body feels hot all over again and I can feel myself clench around nothing desperately.

“I mean I just... Fuck.” He pauses as he takes a second to help me sit up and he picks up his drink and takes a long swig. That was definitely a courage shot, what the hell is he about to say? “I mean.. you have no idea how much I think about just… corrupting you. Manipulating your body, I’ve wanted to do that trick to you since I discovered it.” 

A small chuckle escapes him as he looks over at me trying to gauge my reaction.

“Ji, you know why we agreed to that. Sex leads to complicated relationships or dating or whatever and I can’t do that with you. I can’t risk losing you too.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Jisung's response is nearly a whisper, a desperate plea that came out weaker than he expected. “If we’re together then you’ve got me for life, bubs. You’re my best friend, nothing could ever change that. You’re the only person who doesn’t see me as a monster.”

Now it’s my turn to take a courage shot. I down the rest of my drink, avoiding eye contact like it could kill me. “I get it, you wanna fuck me, you don’t have to butter me up to get in my pants.”

“Hey hey hey, this is about way more than that. I don’t just want to fuck you, you’re so much more than a stupid notch in my belt. I want to be with you. I’ve wanted that for so long and you’ve wanted it too. I know you do. I see the way you look at me all the time, when I stay over at your place and we’re sleeping together and when I’m driving and you think that I don’t notice. You stare at me just like I stare at you, you have that same longing in your eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He’s serious now, his tone is firm and it adds an extra beat to my already hammering heart. How does he know all of that? How long has it been since he’s noticed?

“Jisung, I don't have feelings for you. You’re hot, that's it.” I’m lying. I’m lying through my fucking teeth and he knows it. I’m a shit liar when I’m faded.

“Then let me kiss you.” He finishes his drink and puts his bottle to the side all while looking straight at me. “If I’m nothing more than your hot best friend, let me kiss you. If you pull away then you’re telling the truth but if you don’t then you feel the same way that I do.”

“I’m not doing that.” My eyes fall to his converse and I take a shaky inhale. There’s no way that this is happening, what is he thinking?

“You are.” He sounds like he’s pleading again, his words are careful but he means them, oh gosh. He leans forward, placing the bend of his pointer finger under my chin and lifting my head until my gaze meets his. “I’m sick of us pretending” He whispers, his voice full of emotion. I can’t look away, my heart is pounding in my chest and I take a deep breath. His other hand reaches for mine, taking it and pressing chaste kisses to my knuckles. His eyes squeeze shut with each kiss and I can’t help but to take in the sight of him, his features softened by emotion, his emotions for me. I let out a shaky breath and whisper back. 

"Han, we shouldn’t."

“Why not?” His eyes are still closed and he squeezes my hand as his lips move against the back of it. “I know you better than anyone on this earth. I love you more than anyone in this universe, you love me too, I know you do. What are you afraid of?”

“I told you, I can’t lose you.” My voice sounds more strained than I anticipated but I ignore it, it’s a reflection of how I feel. A verbal representation of the hurricane in my chest.

“If you’re so afraid to lose me then why won’t you be mine? Why won’t you let me have you?”

“Ji, stop it.” He drops the hand that he was kissing and moves his other hand to completely cup my cheek. We’re so close that his exhales are my inhales and I swear I can hear his heart pounding from here or maybe that’s mine.

“Let me kiss you.”

“Jisung” His name is merely a whisper as I exhale.

“Let me.” He whispers back and the sweet sound of his voice rings in my ears.

“Han.” I inhale the scent of him but it’s not the same, it's desperate, but it’s sweet. Much sweeter than usual.

“I’m going to kiss you.” He closes the gap between us and I hold my breath. His lips touch mine and the heat that I was feeling earlier multiplies with a spark of burning desire. He’s kissing me. My best friend is kissing me and only one word comes to mind. Perfect, this moment is perfect, he is perfect and I desperately don’t want him to be. His lips move against mine slowly, passionately, and I almost feel like I’m floating. I thought that I’d feel panic. I thought that I’d be scared but I’m not, he was right. Fuck it.

I sigh into the kiss as I melt into his touch, his fingers caress my cheek softly as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. His other hand rests on my hip, squeezing lightly and guiding me forward to straddle his lap. I climb onto him as I savor his taste. There's hints of beer and the blunt we shared but there’s a sweetness to it, it’s something that I can only describe as being him. It’s Jisung that I taste and he’s flooding my senses. 

“I knew it.” He whispers against my lips before pressing me back into a hungry kiss. Our lips abuse each other relentlessly as they move in tandem. I can’t seem to control the small whines that escape me but I don’t mind because each one of my whines is matched with a desperate groan from Jisung. 

“Be mine.” He whispers into my mouth and I sigh, content at the sound of it. He wants me, he wants to be with me… but what if I lose him?

“Ji.” I whisper back, trying my best to pull away but he holds me there. His hand on my cheek kept my lips on his. “Jisung” I lightly push at his chest, I can’t do this. We can’t do this. What if everything goes wrong? What if I lose him too? “Han.”

He stops, pulling away with heavy breath and dilated pupils. His blushed lips are more red than usual and he dips his tongue out to lick them quickly as he stares up at me. 

“I can’t…” There’s a hoarse scratch to my voice as I stare back at him. “I can’t lose… we can’t do this.”

“We just did.”