#quickly she realises that the shit is watery as fuck and it will probably take 6-7 coats to be opaque and she’s like.. i don’t have that

[fingertipsmp3]

Just remembered another fucked up paint story (will put in tags because idk I like talking in tags more than actually in the post)

[mochamvgz]

love you twice

; you hurt yourself the night before prom

; lee heeseung x reader

; genre: fluff, comfort, high school au, established relationship, fem!reader, non idol!heeseung

; warnings: reader twists her knee no mentions of blood, cursing, self depreciative thoughts (reader considers herself a burden)

; 2k words

; perm taglist: @inkelea @bunreis @sobun1est

“fuck fuck fuck please tell me this isn't happening!”

you croaked, sitting on your bed and leaning against the wall with an ice pack on your now-swollen knee.

how did that happen, you ask?

funny stupid story: you were walking back home after picking up dinner, two packs of instant ramen, from the convenience store down the street. you were a few blocks from your place when you realised you forgot to get yourself a drink. as you turned on your heel to go make a detour back to the small store, you felt your left knee twist the wrong way and, with impeccable timing, a sharp bout of pain shot up your leg. you used the lamp posts lined along the street to get to your apartment, taking it easy so as to avoid tripping.

upon finally reaching home, you set the ramen on the countertop and grabbed the ice pack from your freezer, making your way to the couch to ice your throbbing knee.

coming back to the present—your eyes were getting watery as you panicked because senior prom was literally the next day!!!

you'd been looking forward to it since forever and the possibility that you might have to miss it—and potentially dissappoint your boyfriend who had been just as excited as you—was what made the tears finally spill out.

putting the ice pack down on the couch, you wiped them away with a sniffle and unlocked your phone, opening your messages app to let heeseung know you wouldn’t be able to make it tomorrow. however, your previous texts grabbed your attention, and you scrolled up to see text bubbles with far too many exclamation marks and plans to match fits. you felt the tears return and put your phone away.

“please let this shit be better by tomorrow” you whispered to yourself. dinner long forgotten, you made your way to the bathroom to wash up and go to sleep.

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the hot air from the blow dryer hit your hair and exposed neck. yes, you were getting ready for prom. no, your knee wasn't much better. your plan was to power through because, one, you weren't about to miss out on something as monumental as senior prom and, two, you really didn't want to let heeseung down.

you'd asked him if you could meet him straight at school rather than him coming to pick you up because you knew that despite his excitement for the event, he would make you stay at home and take care of you.

your phone buzzed—you looked down at the screen to see a bunch of texts from none other than your boyfriend.

waiting for my uber

can't wait to see you all dolled up for me!!!

💓💓💓

[attachment: 1 image]

a smile played on your lips as you replied.

you quickly finished putting on your makeup and called yourself an uber as well.

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you got there before heeseung and were waiting for him not too far from the entrance. you were trying not to put much of your body weight on your injured leg, but, as a consequence, your other leg was beginning to cramp from the excess pressure. you persevered nonetheless.

just then, you saw heeseung enter and the first thing he did was look around trying to find you. your heart rate picked up.

god he looks so attractive in that damn suit!!

you smiled as you watched him look for you—you didn't make a move though, partly because of your knee, and partly because you found his confused face cute.

he turned to one of his friends nearby, probably asking if he had seen you. his friend scanned the area, spotting you almost immediately as he gestured towards you as if to say “there she is!” heeseung looked in the direction, eyes glancing over you without any hint of recognition as he turned back to his friend with a puzzled expression.

you chuckled at his silliness, finding the fact that he was so giddy he could barely think straight downright adorable. you were so whipped for this guy, it was hopeless. the feeling was definitely mutual, though.

his friend once again gestured towards you with a little more exasperation, most likely saying “she's right there dude!” your boyfriend's eyes roamed over the room once again, with more concentration this time.

he finally found you after turning back to his friend a third time and you swear the way his eyes lit up as he flashed you that smile he always saved just for you caused your heart to melt into a goopy puddle making a wide grin appear on your own face.

“there you are! you look so gorgeous in that dress i might faint! not that you don't look pretty in general.” he reached out to grab your hand.

“you're one to talk, just look at yourself!” you noticed he was bouncing on his feet with excitement.

“whoa there, calm down”

“sorry, i'm just really stoked to be here with you!” his smile turned slightly bashful.

suddenly, you hissed in pain and squeezed your eyes tight, balling your free hand up in a fist.

whoops, guess i shouldn't have stood for too long.

concern immediately overtook heeseung's face.

“you okay there honey?”

it took you some time to form a response as you were focused on processing the pain. when you did however, it wasn't an answer but another question.

“can we find someplace to sit?”

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after you both were seated on a bench you found outside the venue, heeseung didn't repeat his question right away. he watched you massage your knee with worry etched on his face, not knowing what to do.

“do you wanna ice it..maybe..? i can get some ice from the drinks counter and wrap it in my handkerchief?”

“no no it's alright, i just iced it last night.”

“wait- last night??? you hurt yourself last night and didn’t think to tell me?? why did you even come?? you should’ve stayed home!”

you bit your tongue upon realising your error. you were trying to reassure him that it wasn't that bad but instead you had increased his worry.

you gave him a pained smile. “we’d been looking forward to prom for so long, i didn’t want to ruin it...”

heeseung fell silent for while after hearing those words, upset that you thought a mere event was more important than whatever injury you had.

“anyways, i think my knee is better now, let’s go meet our friends.” you broke the silence.

“you haven’t told me what’s wrong yet.” he pointed out.

“it’s not a big deal, really, i just twisted my knee while walking home last night.”

“do you.. want to try standing up?”

you nodded and he stood up first, offering you his hand as support which you gladly took and helped yourself up. you winced slightly as you did so.

“hey hey, take it easy.”

“hee, you know you don’t have to treat me like i’m made of glass.”

“i know, i’m just worried.”

you smiled at him reassuringly in a way that said ‘it’s okay, i’m good.’ but it ended up looking more like a grimace.

your boyfriend wasn’t having it,

“let’s get you home.”

“but-”

heeseung shut down your protests and was adamant on getting you home so you had no choice but to comply. he offered to carry you but you instantly declined, not wanting to be burdensome to him, or well, not more than you already were being, from your perspective.

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The cab parked by your apartment and heeseung helped you get out, you clenched your teeth, holding back a groan, as your knee pained from straightening after being bent for so long while you were seated. heeseung thanked the driver and paid the fare, helping you walk towards the lift after he was done, despite your insistence that you could manage.

once your door was unlocked, heeseung didn’t waste a single moment and picked you up bridal style, gently of course, he was careful not to make any sudden movements and accidentally send a jolt of pain towards your knee. again, he ignored your objections, focusing on taking care of you. he took the key out the keyhole on your front door and closed it behind you, taking off his shoes by the entryway. he carried you to your bedroom, setting your keys down on the kitchen counter on the way.

heeseung set you down on your bed carefully as you looked at him, your eyes shining with adoration. soon after, you directed your gaze towards the ground, letting your hair fall down to veil the majority of your face. you felt guilty; guilty for ‘ruining’ his night; guilty for ‘making’ him take care of you; guilty for ‘making’ him choose you over his own enjoyment; guilty for worrying him; and guilty for ‘being the cause’ of how ‘bored’ he was going to be for the remainder of the night.

thinking you were trying to hide your pained expression, your boyfriend squeezed your hand comfortingly, his heart breaking bit-by-bit as he realised you didn’t want him to see you be vulnerable. you felt tears pool in your eyes and you started blinking rapidly to get rid of them, you hated crying in front of someone. heeseung suddenly cleared his throat, startling you a little.

“you’ve got an ice pack in your freezer right?"

you nodded without looking up.

"i'll go get it real quick."

he didn't leave right away though, kneeling to unstrap your heels and taking them off so you could sit more comfortably on the bed and only then making his exit.

you were helpless against the onslaught of tears that followed—it felt horrible knowing you'd be upsetting him even more if he saw you in such a state, but you were powerless.

when heeseung got back with the ice pack and a glass of water, he froze at the doorframe hearing your sniffles, the pained sounds making him feel as if a heavy brick had just lodged itself inside his chest.

heeseung finally regained his sense of self and walked in, placing the glass of water and the ice pack on your nightstand. you wiped harshly under your eyes with the back of your hand as soon as you heard him come in, desperately hoping against hope he hadn’t caught you crying because that would be really embarrassing for you. you were known to be an optimistic, yet fierce and independent person and you hated showcasing any sort of vulnerability or weakness.

“does it hurt that bad?”

heeseung thought your tears were prompted by the pain, completely unaware of the tempest of guilt whirling inside your head. you made no reply, too busy internally cursing yourself for being so vulnerable and letting him see you cry. not receiving any sort of response, not even a nod or a shake of your head, only contributed further to his rising concern.

he knelt beside your bed, tucking away the curtain of hair shielding your face. you tried turning your head the other way but heeseung placed a finger under your chin, stopping you.

“hey, talk to me, please.”

“thanks for bringing me home and getting the ice pack, but you should probably head back before prom ends so i don’t ruin the rest of your night.”

“what? you think i’m just gonna leave you here?”

“i’ve done enough damage hee, i don’t wanna be a hindrance.”

your boyfriend scoffed at your statement; he was hurt you considered yourself a bother for him.

“you’re kidding right? you’ve got to be! i’m not going anywhere.”

his resolve was firm, not giving you room to argue with him any further, besides you were too tired to. you felt the waterworks return, rapidly blinking once again so as to not let them spill out. this time, however, heeseung noticed and sat in front of you on the bed, pulling you close as you buried your head in this chest, finally giving in.

“i love you.”

heeseung pressed a kiss on the crown of your head, blinking back his own tears.

“i love you too.” you mumbled into his shirt, causing him to feel the vibrations through his ribcage and right into his heart, making the brick in his chest disintegrate as you tightened the embrace.

"i love you more than anything, and you're worth so much more than you think."

heeseung was ready to say "i love you" twice and so many more times to you, he wouldn't hesitate even for a second to give you the love you deserved and you were prepared to do the same thing back.

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; a/n: firstly, huge thank you to @sunny-reis (ik this is the hundredth time i'm thanking you lmao) for beta reading this for me!! this fic wouldn't be readable w/out u<33 gonna disappear again after dropping this (i won't be sticking around to reply to asks sorry :(( ) the brainrot was getting to me okay🙄✋currently icing my own knee as i'm posting this lmao. the fic is mostly based on real life events (some dialogues and details are basically copy-pasted from my actual convo with my bf lol) also can't believe this is my longest fic yet🤯🤯 anyways i hope you enjoyed reading 💌<33

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© mochamvgz on tumblr | all rights reserved | do not plagiarise, repost or translate

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[tacticaldiary]

Having a relationship w/ Oikawa based on a bet and the gf heard it when the seijoh 4 talked about it making oikawa panicked when he knows his gf heard it.. ahh angst to fluff? Hehe thank youuuu

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This was fun to write. :)

Betting on You

Pairing: Reader x Oikawa Tooru

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, a lil fluff

He couldn’t lose her, anyone but her. He shouldn’t have accepted the bet. Needless to say, Oikawa Tooru has a lot of regrets right now. Opening up and being vulnerable to his partner was thankfully not one of them, even if it had ended up with them crying in each others arms. 

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Mumbling incoherently, Y/N reaches out next to her in the bed, trying to find the warm body that usually occupied the space next her. Frowning when she feels only the bedsheets, she opens her eyes and squints. There’s no one next to her. 

“Tooru?” she mutters softly, yawning and sitting up. He was always there, clinging to her, holding her close. Strange. She decides to wait for him, wanting his warmth to fall asleep with. The guy was like a living heater, which was useful during cold winter nights like this one. 

Twenty minutes pass and he still doesn’t come back. Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N sighs and pulls herself to the edge of the bed, slipping on a pair of slippers. She shivers a little when the cold air hits her skin, but continues slowly towards the door to their shared bedroom. Opening it with a quiet creak, she immediately hears voices. A little confused, she quietly keeps walking, stopping at the doorway to the living room. 

She tilts her head in confusion when she sees Tooru laying on the couch, tapping away at his phone. It appears he’s on a voice call on speaker. 

“Almost three months.”

“Honestly, none of us expected you to last this long.”

Her eyes widen as she hears familiar voices. Matsukawa and Hanamaki?

“You’re still keeping him to that?” Iwaizumi? What were they doing this late at night? The clock on the wall tells her it’s 2 in the morning. 

“Obviously. I thought the money was pretty much guaranteed.”

“Can you blame us? He’s never kept someone around for more than a month.”

“Shut up.” Tooru's quiet voice reaches her ears. What money? What was going on?

“You’re not going to win.” comes Iwaizumi’s annoyed voice. “It’s Y/N.”

“Yeah, but before her it was also Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan and Aiko-Chan and-”

“Alright, I get it. Iwa-Chan’s the only one who’s on my side.” he pouts, cutting off Hanamaki’s annoying high-pitched imitation of him. 

“We still don’t know why. You’re obviously going to lose the bet. It’s inevitable.” Matsukawa claim confidently

...Bet?

“I’ll win in a few days, if you haven’t noticed. Nothing’s gonna happen in a few days.” Tooru rolls his eyes.

“And then you’ll dump her?”

Y/N suddenly feels cold, and it has nothing to do with the weather. Dump her? Bet? WHat was going on? Her mind was racing. Tooru hadn’t indicated that he was unhappy, or wanted to break up. He was always telling her how much he loved her. Was he lying? She felt a little sick at the thought.

“Yeah, the bet was to keep someone around for more than three months. You’ll be done in a few days. What’re you gonna do then?”

What?

“A bet?” she says aloud, her voice hollow with shock.

Tooru jumps and drops his phone, quickly turning around to see his girlfriend looking at him in horror. 

“Y-Y/N-Chan...” he scrambles to his feet and ends the call, wondering how much she had heard. “I thought you were asleep?” he quickly moves towards her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. He freezes when she backs away, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“A bet, Tooru? A bet?” 

“What-? Wait, Y/N...it’s not what you think-”

“Keep me around? You were dating me for a...bet?” her voice starts shaking a little, as she remembers how mere hours ago, he was holding her, assuring her how much he loved her.

“No! I-”

“Am I a game to you? A bet? Are you fucking kidding me?” She nearly laughs, because of course he would only date her for a bet. Of course. 

He frantically shakes his head, reaching out for her again, but thinking better of it when he glares at him with eyes full of unshed tears. His eyes widened. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. “Y/N-Chan, listen to me, please, let me explain.” he sounds panicked. 

She clenches her jaw. “I should have seen this coming. Of course the Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t go out with someone like me.” She lets out a bitter chuckle at his stunned expression. Before he can interrupt, she pushes on. “Why would you, when you have girls, so much more perfect than me, throwing themselves at your feet all the time?”

“Y/N-” he’s trying desperately to get a word in, wincing when she raises her voice to overpower his. 

“Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan.” she imitates, recalling the phone call. Tears she’s tried to keep at bay finally start trickling down and Oikawa’s heart twists painfully, knowing that he was the one who caused it. “Obviously, the only reason you’d consider me was because of a bet, a fucking bet, Tooru.” she cries out angrily. 

“Y/N-Chan, listen to me.” he says seriously, grabbing her shoulder and looking her in the eyes. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the beginning. The bet means nothing to me.”

Her next word feel like a punch to the gut. 

“Bullshit.” she whispers, before repeating herself louder. “Utter bullshit. You never loved me.”

“I did, I do!” he insists. 

“If you did, it wouldn’t have taken a bet for you to ask me out!” she roughly shoves his hands off her. Taking a deep breath, forcing herself to ignore his hurt look. “It’s my fault too, isn’t it? I should’ve known better than to accept dating the Oikawa Tooru, the school heartthrob, notorious for playing around.” her words are laced with venom and self-pity. “There’s always gonna be someone better. Someone prettier, skinner, funnier. I was stupid for thinking you would ever fall for me.” All her insecurities come spilling out, accumulated from months of dating him, enduring the comments whispered under the breath by jealous students, girls openly flirting with her boyfriend. She was stupid to think she would ever be enough.

Pushing past him, wiping her sleeves across her eyes, she storms back into the bedroom, Oikawa at her heels behind her. She grabs her pillow and a blanket, turning back around and moving to the couch in the living room. She does her best to ignore her boyfriend's desperate attempts to gain her attention, begging her to give him a chance to explain. She sets up the items and lays on the couch, pulling the blanket to her chin and turning to face the back of the couch.

She refused to sleep anywhere near him. When he doesn’t stop talking she says coldly:

“Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

“No.”

She pauses. “No?”

“Not until you hear me out.” He crosses his arms.

“I’ve heard enough.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. If you’d just let me explain-”

“I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

He was dreading that. He really does love her, so fucking much. He doesn't want to lose her.

“Y/N-”

“I’m going to sleep.” She had never spoken to him in that tone before.

She hears a sigh after a few moments of silence, in which he realises that she was going to be stubborn till the end. Y/N hears him walk away and she buries her face in the blanket, silently crying to herself. She freezes when she hears the bedroom door close with a ‘click’ and footsteps approaching her. She turns around a little, to see Oikawa sitting at the foot of the couch with his own blanket and pillow. He doesn’t look at her, focusing on fluffing his pillow and pulling his thicker, warmer quilt over himself. He was equally as stubborn and wasn’t going to leave her alone like this.

She scoffs and settles back down again, still crying. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. The two lay in silence for a good thirty minutes. Y/N had stopped crying, but was still awake because how the hell was she supposed to fall asleep after what she had learnt? 

She’s startled when she suddenly hears Oikawa’s soft voice. “I love you, you know? I really do. Ever since I saw you in Chemistry last year. You caught my eye so quickly, and I flirted with you for weeks before you got the hint.” he laughs breathily. “You didn’t want my attention like everyone else, and I was curious. It felt different to be the one trying to get someone else’s attention.” he takes a deep breath, and she realises with a start that she’s never heard him this vulnerable. He probably thinks she’s asleep. 

“I was planning to ask you out before and I told the others and they laughed at me.” he frowns at the memory. “The assholes thought I was kidding, that I wasn’t serious. Iwa-Chan was the only one who took it seriously. I don’t blame them, cause I’d only ever dated for fun before.” He breathes in deeply again, steadying his voice and Y/N’s eyes widen when she realizes he’s holding back tears. 

“So when they bet that I couldn't last more than 3 months with you, I agreed, but only because I was going to ask you out anyway, and I intended on staying as long as I could. As long as you’d let me stay by your side.” He lets out a sad, watery chuckle, and Y/N feels her stomach drop. She never wanted to hear that sound from him again.

“I...shit, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re the only one for me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” A strangled, muffled sob, reaches her ears, and it takes all of her willpower to remain still. 

“I’m serious about you...about us. You’re not a game, you never were. I just wanted to be with you. I want to be able to hold you again.” another muffled cry, as he buries his face in his hands. He’d never willingly let anyone see himself like this, not even Y/N. He was glad she was asleep. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, princess.” he stays where he is, sitting up leaning back on the couch, calming himself down, letting out soft hiccups every now and then. 

Y/N is wide awake, thinking over his words. They had to be genuine, right? He had no idea she was awake. He had sounded so...real and vulnerable, nothing like the strong façade he usually put up in front of others. Taking her chances, she discreetly moves, eyes widening when she sees the state he’s in. 

One of his hands is over his mouth, muffling his small sobs, Y/N wants to cry as she realises it’s probably so he doesn’t wake her up. His other hand is clenched tightly in his brown hair, his knees drawn to his chest. His face was blotchy and red and wet with tears. She’s never seen him like this. She moves and he doesn’t notice. 

Sitting directly behind him, she gently grabs the hand in his hair, to which he nearly jumps out of his skin. Y/N would usually laugh at the reaction, if not for the way he was looking up at her. She eases his hand out of his hair and holds it, tugging him up to the couch. He hesitates, before climbing up, sitting on the cushion next to her. 

“You-” his voice wavers, and he tries again. “You were awake?”

She nods, glancing at their connected hands, before staring at the ground. She hears his sharply take in a breath. 

“Y/N...love, I meant it. I meant every word, I swear.” 

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” she mumbles, tugging on his hand again, until they're both laying on the couch. She reaches over and grabs Oikawa’s quilt and pulls it on the two of them. She relaxes against him when his arms automatically wind around her waist and he buries his face in her hair, pressing small kisses on her. Each was an unspoken apology. 

She knows he’s crying when she feels the tears hit her skin. 

He knows she’s crying when he can feel her shaky, irregular breaths.

They lay there, eventually falling asleep clutching each other tightly, both of them hurting on the inside. They would have to have a serious talk tomorrow, but both had a blooming hope that they would pull through. 

Requests are open and Welcome. Thanks for reading!

[helloalycia]

overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)

summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.

warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.

author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.

When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.

When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.

Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?

I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.

"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."

The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.

She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.

Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.

"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."

She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.

"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."

I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.

"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."

It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.

"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."

I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.

"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."

The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.

"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."

The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.

Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?

The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.

More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.

Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?

I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.

No, I had to go there. She needed backup.

—

Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.

I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.

When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.

There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.

As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.

"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"

I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"

He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"

My stomach dropped. "The what?"

"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."

A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.

"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"

After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.

Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.

Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.

"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"

He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"

I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.

"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.

"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.

My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."

"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."

Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."

When I couldn’t, I added in my head.

He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.

"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."

I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.

Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.

"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"

I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."

Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."

My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.

Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.

She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"

I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...

"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."

She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.

"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"

"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."

She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."

I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.

Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.

"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."

She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."

At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."

Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.

"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.

With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.

We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.

I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"

She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."

"Oh, I don't have to do that–"

"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."

I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.

"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'd like that."

I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."

—

Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?

As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.

When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.

About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.

"When are you leaving?"

I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.

"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.

She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."

I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.

She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."

I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."

A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

[writingwithacupoftea]

The Unexpected Visitor in Small Heath

Summary: Y/N Shelby was a nurse during the war. What happens when a ghost from that past comes looking for her? A ghost with definite intentions...

Word Count: 3683

Trigger Warnings: a slightly handsy dude

A/N: *peeks out from my hiding place* hi guys, I’m back!! Hope you’re all good - to me it feels so amazing to be posting some writing again! As you can probably tell by the word count, I got a bit carried away with this one and so it’s basically unedited, so apologies for any mistakes 😂 Hope you enjoy it! 😘

"About fucking time, Y/N, I've been waiting here for almost a quarter of an hour."

"You've knocked on my door five minutes ago, Tommy, stop being such a dramatic shit!"

To any passers-by outside of Y/N Shelby's house, for a moment it would have looked like the two siblings were about to get into another argument. But any anxieties about that were washed away when they observed the teasing glint in the younger girl's eye and the playful shove given by the man, as they made their way down the cobbled streets of Birmingham.

Tommy and Y/N Shelby were as thick as thieves, there was no doubt about that. The brother and sister loved each other fiercely, and where one of them was found, it was almost certain that the other wouldn't be too far behind. But when they rowed, oh boy, did they row.

It was only a few days ago that the occupants of the Garrison were subjected to their shouting, after Tommy had scared off yet another one of Y/N's dates. As usual, however, the argument had soon blown over.

***

Y/N loved living in Small Heath. It was a shithole, but it was her shithole, so she didn't mind it as much.  

To Tommy's surprise, she had turned down the offer of either living with him in Warwickshire or buying her a place of her own in the country. Instead, she had asked her brother if she could move into his old house on Watery Lane, to which he had agreed.  

His swaying factor had been that someone would always be close-by if anything happened at the office, and the rest of the family had a place to crash if they needed to.  

Y/N, on the other hand, had more emotional reasons for wanting to stay where she grew up. Since training as a nurse for the war, the Shelby girl had got to know the children of Small Heath very well: she had somehow become the go-to person whenever one of them got into a scuffle or had an accident, and always fixed them up with a smile on her face as she listened to their innocent voices babble away. Y/N wanted to see them grow up, and didn't want to abandon them. She also didn't want to leave behind some of the poorer families in Small Heath, who she paid a visit to once a week to check that everyone was as well as could be.

Tommy had had one condition for Y/N's staying in Small Heath by herself – that he walked her to and from work or the Garrison (wherever they were the latest) every day, and the days that he couldn't make it that she would let him get one of the blinders to do the job instead. The Shelby name and his sister's capabilities alone were not enough to settle his worries about her wellbeing.

And this job was what had brought Tommy to Y/N’s house that morning. It had come to Y/N’s attention that her brother seemed to be at his happiest during these walks - and when she said ‘happiest’ she meant that there was often just a slight glimmer of a smile on his face and his eyes looked a touch softer. Sometimes the indicators were bigger, but more often than not this was where the happiness would stop. It was in these moments that Tommy seemed to be at his most human, and they were the favourite part of Y/N’s day.

Apart from today.

The pair navigated the streets with ease, speaking quietly to each other, just as on every other day of the year. Suddenly, however, Y/N stopped still, lips parted slightly in shock. Tommy examined her expression carefully, and after realising (with a sigh of relief) that his sister wasn't scared shitless, followed her line of sight. It landed on a man. A rather scruffy man, who appeared to have done an awful job at trying to make himself look respectable, Tommy thought. The Shelby man knew that this was a stranger to Small Heath, not only by the fact that he had never seen such a distinct person before, but also by the way that he looked at the buildings and the people in the street. Yes, Tommy concluded, that was definitely a look with purpose.

Breaking Tommy away from his thoughts was the delicate hand that grabbed his wrist tightly, causing him to look down at his sister. "Tommy, how do you fancy taking the scenic route to the office today, hmm?" Whilst her voice was light, as if she were simply commenting on the day's weather, the forced smile that was plastered on her face was the one that she used at parties when she wanted to get away from someone (usually when she was being annoyed or bored to death).

Amused by Y/N's desperate desire to get away, he resisted her impatient pull on his arm towards a side street. "What's wrong with this way, Y/N/N? This is the route we take every day, I'm not going about changing it now." Tommy's voice was teasing as he casually lit a cigarette.

"Yes, yes, Tom, I know you're a stickler for routine – but for once in your fucking life can you do as I say?"

"Ah, well I was considering it, but since you've been so rude to me..."

The man was getting closer.

"Please, Tommy, I'll do anything." Y/N hated that she was having to practically beg her brother, but the situation was one that she definitely wanted to avoid. She even slipped her hand down to grasp his tightly for emotional effect, something that she hadn't done for years (but, oh, how she relished that warm and safe feeling that it brought with it).

Surprised at his sister's actions and looking into her wide eyes, he was about to relent and let her drag him down the side streets to the office. But it was too late.

"NURSE SHELBY!" The man's deep voice bellowed down the street, causing a few people to look towards them.

"Fucking hell," Y/N mumbled under her breath, giving Tommy's hand a tight squeeze and then letting go, before addressing the man. "Henry. What a surprise! What brings you to Birmingham?"

"Well, you, of course!"

Y/N cringed internally as she saw Tommy's eyebrows shoot up at this statement. Tommy cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Y/N?"

Sending a quick death glare up to her brother out of the corner of her eye, the woman replied with strained politeness: "My apologies. Henry, this is my brother, Thomas Shelby. Tommy, this is Henry Mathers, one of my former patients."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Henry shook Tommy's hand, the latter trying his hardest not to grimace at the thick layer of sweat coating the other man's palm.

"Likewise, Mr Mathers. You met my sister in France, then?"

"Yes, sir. We said that if we both made it out of there alive, we'd go for a drink. Ever since I got back I've been searching for her and here I am! And, oh, it was worth the wait to see that face again."

Tommy could no longer suppress the smirk threatening to escape as he looked between Henry's longing gaze and Y/N's very clearly faked happiness crossed with panic.

"Well, my sister is a woman of her word, Mr Mathers, and I'm sure she'd be delighted to be able to catch up with you after all these years." Tommy decided to pause for dramatic effect. "Perhaps you can go to the Garrison tonight, Y/N? We've had it done up recently, it's just around this corner here" Tommy added, pointing in the direction of the pub.

"Oh, that sounds perfect! I shall meet you there at eight o'clock, Miss Shelby." Before Y/N could get a word in edgeways, Henry was removing his bowler hat and bowing his balding head. "Good day to you, Miss Shelby, Mr Shelby." The man continued to walk down the street, a definite spring now in his step.

As soon as he was far enough away, Y/N sent a firm punch to her brother’s stomach. “What the actual fuck, Tommy?” She started to storm down the street quickly, leaving Tommy hurrying after her. “One minute you’re chasing men away from me, and next you’re setting me up on dates with people you don’t know the first thing about!”

“You’re the one who agreed to go for a drink with him in the first place, don’t go blaming me.”

“He had a lot of drugs in his system when he asked, I didn’t think he’d actually remember it.” Catching her brother’s amused smile at her excuse, she continued. “He was on the verge of death, I wasn’t exactly going to say no, was I?”

“Oh, so he fought to stay alive just for you then, eh? Sounds like a keeper to me, Y/N/N.”

“You’re an arse, Thomas Shelby. A complete and utter arse.”

***

Y/N remained in a foul mood with Tommy for the rest of the day, not that this surprised him.

When the hands of the clock hit ten to eight exactly, however, he still knocked on his sister's door to take her to the Garrison himself.

Tommy couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips at the sight of Y/N, clad in a beaded black dress, scowling as she stepped out of the house.

"You do know that you're not going to a funeral tonight?"

"Oh, it's my bloody funeral, alright. Might be his too, if he reverts back to his old ways." Y/N started playing with her hands as they made their way towards the pub, something that she'd done since she was little when she was nervous.  

Tommy noticed it immediately, eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern as he recalled Y/N's desperation to avoid Henry. It hadn’t really hit him properly in the moment how desperate she had been. But before he could begin to question what the man's 'old ways' were, his sister spoke again.

"But you were right about one thing earlier, Tommy. I did still agree to go out with Henry, no matter what state he was in when he asked. It would be rude of me not to go through with it and at least act like I'm having a nice time, seeing as he's come all this way for it. So," her voice became sterner, "I'm going to smile my way through the evening, and you'd better not start any fights - do you understand me?"

The older of the two Shelbys sighed, a feeling of dread beginning to build up inside of him. "I can get you out of this if you -"

"No, Tommy." An angry fire was dancing in the young woman's eyes. "You don't get to land me in this situation and then try to snap your fingers and revert it. That's not how this works. This is happening, no thanks to you..." The last part was mumbled under her breath as she pushed the heavy pub doors open.

Tommy hadn't wanted to lose his sister in the same way that he had lost Ada at the beginning – not giving her enough freedom, especially given their argument the other day. So, when a man came along who she had agreed to go for a drink with previously, he had decided (for once) to take the light-hearted and supportive approach, a far cry from the overprotective older brother that he had been since the moment that Y/N had been born.

He was starting to regret even considering changing his ways, and the night had barely begun...

***

From his seat at an ordinary table at the Garrison, Tommy looked at the occupants at the bar once again, probably for about the fifth time in the past two minutes. He had decided not to retreat into the snug, as he usually did, wanting to keep a close eye on Y/N and Henry.

So far, the evening had gone surprisingly well - it was far better than any of Tommy’s imaginings after his discussion with his sister previously. He had heard his sister’s gentle laugh ringing across the room on multiple occasions (and he could tell that it was genuine), and the pair had barely stopped talking.

Maybe this would prove to be a success, Tommy had mused.

One thing that the man’s careful eye had picked up on, however, was how many whiskeys Henry had thrown back. Tommy had concluded that no matter how well things appeared to be going now, he wasn't leaving just yet.

And he was glad he didn't – for just 15 minutes later, as the alcohol began to kick in to Henry's system, things began to go downhill.

It started with the occasional nervous laugh, or a smile that didn’t quite reach his sister's eyes as she avoided Henry's intense gaze. This grew more frequent as Henry continued to drink, and Y/N began playing with her hands once again as well.  

The head of the Shelby family was an inch away from leaping out of his seat when he saw Henry leaning over to whisper in Y/N's ear, and her nose crinkled in disgust at the stench of alcohol on his breath. After a few subtle attempts, she finally managed to push him away from her, and Tommy relaxed slightly as he heard her state a firm "No." His sister was always a lot tougher than he thought.  

But her efforts were undermined as Henry grabbed her left hand, holding it as if he were about to kiss her knuckles. However his grip was far too firm for that. Ripping her hand out of his, Y/N grabbed her bag hurriedly and started to get off her seat, and Tommy stood up himself.

The final straw for the protective brother was when he witnessed Y/N freeze completely as Henry rested a hand on her knee to stop her from leaving. Fists clenched as he tried to contain his anger, remembering his sister's warning about not starting any fights, Tommy marched over to the bar, his lie for getting her out of there already prepared.  

"Y/N, something urgent has come up, we need to call a family meeting – now." Tommy extended a hand to his sister, which she gratefully took as he helped her get down off the barstool and pulled her safely to his side. "Would you get my things from the back room, I've just got something to sort out quickly before we go. I'll see you outside."

Y/N nodded, knowing exactly what Tommy was doing. Shooting her brother a grateful glance, Y/N mumbled a quick "Goodbye" to Henry, and walked off quickly, not wanting to be in the man's company for any longer than necessary.  

***

She slipped out of the back door and into the cold night air, relief washing over her. Lighting a cigarette, Y/N waited for her brother, wondering how he had got to her so quickly – she hadn't seen him once after meeting up with Henry.

A few minutes later, Tommy emerged and went straight to Y/N. "You alright?" His thick Brummie accent comforting her as he, too, lit a cigarette.

Y/N sent him a soft smile as she replied, "I'm fine, Tom. I'm assuming there isn't actually an emergency?" Her voice was laced with amusement.

"Nope."

The siblings stayed there for a while, smoking and listening to the sounds of the pub behind them. Y/N vaguely wondered whether Henry would find them, but looking up at her brother's solid presence beside her, she felt any worries lift off her shoulders.

Out of the blue, Tommy threw his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, turning to Y/N. "Come on. Do you fancy going for a walk?"

"Yeah, I need to clear my head." Tommy started to move towards the street. "Oi! I'm finishing this first, you know I hate smoking and walking at the same time!"

***

"You gonna tell me what happened tonight then, eh?"

The pair didn't know how long they had been wandering the streets of Small Heath for, but Tommy's curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.

Y/N sighed, her eyes focused on the cobblestones beneath her. "When Henry first came to us, back in France, he'd been caught up in an explosion. After the doctors had seen him, he was still very drugged up and the chances of him surviving were about fifty-fifty. We had to keep administering him the drugs for a few days, because he was in so much pain. He kept calling me over, wanting to talk to me no matter how busy I was – said that he needed a 'pretty girl' like me to keep him company. I humoured him. But then he started saying things like we were 'meant to be together', 'soulmates' even."  

Y/N paused, thinking hard. "He lied when he showed up today: he said that he asked me out for a drink, but he didn't. What Henry actually said was, and I quote, 'If we both survive this fucking war, I'm going to find you and marry you.' I had no clue what to say. His chances of making it out of the hospital alive, never mind the war, weren't improving. So I said something like 'Well, I hope you buy me a drink first.' I ran off after that, and another one of the nurses took over his care. I had no clue that he was still alive until today.  

"At the pub tonight, I will admit that I did enjoy catching up with him. For someone who I believed to be a lost cause all those years ago, it was nice to hear that he'd actually done something with his life. But then he brought up getting married again, insisting that I was still 'the one' for him and that it was the thought of me that kept him going until the end of the war. He just kept repeating over and over again that he was going to marry me and that we'd be so happy together.

"But just before you came over, he was getting rather forceful about it. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see your stupid face." She laughed a little, noticing her brother's annoyed (yet secretly amused) glare as they sat down next to the Cut.

"It wasn't him that freaked me out, necessarily - it was the thought of marriage. I'm not ready yet, Tom, and to be honest I don't know if I ever will be, no matter how many boys I try and date. I'm terrified of being tied down to someone and losing my independence. I enjoy being by myself too much – and with you lot, I suppose." Y/N nudged her brother's arm.

A comfortable silence settled between the siblings, and Y/N let it sit there, wanting to give Tommy the time to process everything that she had said in her little monologue.

Happiness was one emotion that the elder Shelby didn't expect to feel after hearing his sister's answer to his question. And yet it coursed through his every vein, accompanied by a sort of relief. Tommy wanted his sister to find contentment and peace more than anything; even though he hated the thought of her marrying, of her having someone else to turn to that wasn't him, a few years ago Tommy had come to accept that one day Y/N would want to move on from him and the family. Maybe even start her own family. This acceptance, however, hadn't been able to stop him from deterring nearly any man who came her way. In his mind, anyone that couldn't stand up to Tommy definitely wouldn't be able to deal with his youngest sister, and that they simply weren't good enough for her.

To hear, though, that Y/N had no intention of leaving him yet, was music to his ears. It was also a comfort to know that she was waiting for the right person to get serious with – Tommy felt as though he wouldn't have to spend as much time hunting down every single potential suitor. Instead, he could spend the time with his beloved, if annoying, little sister.

But this was Tommy Shelby, and he would never communicate such vast amounts of emotion verbally. "So I'm stuck with you for a bit longer then?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Y/N couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, understanding the exact meaning behind her brother's words. It widened as she heard Tommy chuckling slightly in response, a sound that she had nearly forgotten. "What did you do with Henry? After I left the pub?"

Tommy cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "He won't be proposing to you again any time soon, don't you worry, sweetheart."

"Tommy, I thought I said - "

"No fighting, I know. And I did as you said, I didn't start any tonight." He looked, almost sheepishly, over at Y/N, who had adopted Polly's stern expression. "I told him that if I saw him again in our city, I'd cut him myself, and the same applies for if he tries to contact you again."

The younger Shelby sighed and rolled her eyes, fondly. "Well, I can't complain about that, can I?" Y/N heard the bells of the church chime, telling her that it was midnight. She turned to Tommy. "Home?"

He nodded. "Home," and he knew exactly where that was tonight. Tommy stood up and brushed the dirt off of his trousers, whilst Y/N got up too. They were about to set off when Tommy held his hand out to his sister, just like he used to when they were younger. Y/N instinctively took it, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body. She felt loved, and knew for certain that this love was the only one that she needed at the moment.

Tommy didn't let go until they reached the front door, comforted in the knowledge that Y/N was going to remain his little girl for a while longer yet.

[ficforce]

NSFW Alphabet Extended

Joker/52 x Female Reader NSFW / Mentions of past abuse No established timeline Established relationship

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

“Uh, JJ?” Y/N watched the man practically run out of the room not even a minute after they had both finished up. Had she said or done something? Y/N pulled the blanket up to her chest after sitting up and worried that he wasn’t going to come back… This wasn’t the first time he’d done something strange after they had had sex but it was the first time he’d left; she brought her knees up and couldn’t help the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes. “I got water, alcohol, juice and I put the kettle on in case you want something hot, I also grabbed some snacks in case you were hungry - oh and I grabbed some body wipes too!” Joker had piled everything he had mentioned onto a tray and brought it to the side of the bed, placing everything down before then grinning at her like he had done something really innovative. The grin dropped quickly as he noticed her watery eyes and the slight quiver of her lip. The man sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight in his slight panic, “What did I do? Did I hurt you? Did I push you?” Joker had had a shitty childhood that had followed into his young adult life, he remembered all the times he was forced to do something or it was forced on him, he remembered being left cold and in pain with no-one giving two shits; it terrified him that he might have inflicted the same kind of pain on her. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Y/N pushed against him just enough to be able to look at his worried face, “You didn’t do anything… I definitely wanted that but it’s just… you left, right after and…” she realised now he had run out to get her food and drink, things to take care of her if she needed it. He had asked her last time about aftercare and how he wasn’t sure how to best provide it for her. She had told him that a bottle of water might be appreciated and hadn’t expected him to take it so far as snacks. “I thought you’d just left me.” “No way,” he kissed her cheeks as he squished her face a little between his hands, “Now, you want water, juice, vodka or tea?” The man was completely oblivious as to his awkward after sex etiquette.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

‘They’re like stilts.” Joker chuckled as she poked at his leg, “I like being taller than everyone else.” He likes his legs; he liked that he could move ridiculously fast, that he was flexible and able to kick someone in the face without having to get too close. “You love it when I lean over you like a big creep.” “That’s because I love creeps, apparently.” Y/N grabbed the collar of his top and pulled him down for a kiss, “What do you love about me? Physically?” “Hmm,” Joker gave it a little thought, straightening back up and lighting another cigarette, “Physically… that’s a tricky one. What do I love about my queen of hearts?” He liked everything, it was hard to pick just one thing; he turned his grin on her all of a sudden and smacked her backside, “I like your ass.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Running his fingertips through the cum leaking out of his lover, Joker slowly pushed it back inside her entrance, gently fingering her and relishing in the wet, warm feeling of her freshly fucked hole. “T-thats gross…” Y/N blushed and looked away from his fascinated expression. “I think it’s pretty.” He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean, “We’re all mixed together, impossible to separate.” Only he could make something like this sound almost romantic.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Y/N watched as Joker played with his deck of cards, shuffling them more expertly than any dealer in the big casinos, he then began to hum as he set out a game of solitaire. Sometimes he snuck into her apartment just to be there with her; it wasn’t always a booty call. There was something she noticed when he opened a brand new pack of cards though, something she wasn’t sure he was entirely conscious of doing. The long haired man would always pull out and burn one of the cards to ash before replacing it with the joker card. Last time Y/N had mentioned it he had packed everything up and told her he had business to attend to before leaving.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

“What’s this thing?” Y/N looked over at him from where she was putting away her clothes, her cheeks became a little warm as she saw he was playing with a vibrating cock ring. “It goes at the base of your dick… makes you last longer and the vibration gives me a little something when you push all the way in.” Joker snorted at it and tossed it back in the draw. He was sat cross legged on her bed in nothing but a towel and hair turban to keep him from getting the pillows damp; of course he had to snoop around in her bedside table whilst she was busy. “Why would someone need to last longer, you’d get sore, right? And why the hell aren’t they paying attention to your clit personally?’ He made little circular motions with his thumbs, “That’s just lazy, Y/N.” She often wondered how someone so tall and sexy could be so inexperienced, sure, he was a little odd but women should have been throwing themselves at him. “I’ll show you later, okay.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Joker liked all kinds of positions, he especially liked when Y/N was on top. So when she suggested reverse cowgirl he was curious and eagerly agreed to trying it out. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any position where he couldn’t see her face; it made him uncomfortable and it didn’t feel as good as he knew it should. His hands fell onto her hips and applied a little pressure to slow her down to a stop, “T-turn back around.” He panted out and when she did as he asked, Joker felt better, he thrust up into her more eagerly than before and his purple eye watched her expressions as they headed toward orgasm. Afterwards, as they lay in a heap of sweaty limbs, Y/N kissed his jaw and asked him if it was the angle he hadn’t liked, he shook his head and told her that it just felt better if he knew she was enjoying it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

“JJ, stop messing around with that and get over here.” She had told him he could pick one toy for them to try out from her collection but so far he was just playing with everything. He was taking particular joy in trying to secure a strap on to his head. “Look, Y/N, I’m an actual dickhead now!” He heard her groan at his joke but he definitely heard a giggle too, “Or ‘fuckface’… I heard you call someone that the other day.” Joker liked to make her laugh, he found it put him at ease before they had sex; somehow he was still nervous he was going to make her hate him or that he would somehow hurt her.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Her fingers felt soothing as they ran through his long hair, she had practically begged him to let her practice a french braid on him and he didn’t actually mind it. Y/N had always liked playing with his hair - even before they became a proper couple. “How do you get it so soft?” She asked as she brushed it out to start her braid again, “You never have any split ends either.” He really did take good care of it, it wasn’t something she ever expected from him but she couldn’t deny how much attention he paid to his hair - even his pubic hair was kept trimmed and oddly perfect. He glanced over her shoulder at her and gave a soft smile, “I wasn’t allowed long hair when I was younger, so I like to keep it nice.”

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Something had upset him, something had happened and Y/N hadn’t really known what to do when she found him huddled up in the corner of her bedroom. He was always good at sneaking in but this was the first time she had ever woken up and found him hiding in the dark rather than invading her bed. “JJ?” She called out her pet name for him as she got out of bed and padded over to him, kneeling between his outstretched legs before reaching out to touch his face. He flinched. “Joker, what’s wrong?” She tried again to touch him and this time he allowed her to rest her hands on his cheeks. Y/N checked him over, he didn’t seem to be hurt in anyway, he was just… not quite right. “Can I take off your hat?” He gave a nod and she removed the item quickly, her fingers ran over his hair to neaten it out a little and then she asked if she could take off his eyepatch. This time he shook his head no. “Okay, will you come to bed? We can cuddle…” It hadn’t been hard to figure out, once she had seen all the evidence, that Joker had had bad experiences with people - that someone had likely abused him in his past. One of her biggest clues had been the way he never got too rough with her, how he always had to be able to see her face. Joker cherished her when they were together, he always made sure she knew that he wanted her to feel good and loved. It was moments like this, when he was emotionally bare and vulnerable that she felt most intimate with him, that he let her in and trusted her not to hurt him. “I’ll be big spoon, okay, JJ?” Taking his hand she coaxed him toward the bed and wrapped herself around his tall frame; trying her best to make him feel safe.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

The first time Joker masturbated he had been a little scared that he was going to be struck by lightning. He may have been raised an assassin but they were still a religious order that frowned upon that kind of thing… unless you were some sort of twisted pervert. At first he had ignored the feeling, not wanting to touch himself because he didn’t want to feel sick afterwards; sex had always made him feel disgusting before. But as his vision blurred white and his muscles spasmed, his fist moving on its own along his length as he milked every last drop out of it, he felt weightless afterward. The tension melted out of his body and he wanted to take a nap. He didn’t feel bad, he didn’t feel disgusting - he felt good. He doesn’t masturbate half as much now that he had Y/N. His right arm didn’t ache as much either…

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

“Is this okay?” Y/N asked as she straddled the backs of his thighs and placed her hands on his back. She had set up a large mirror at the end of the bed for this and she hoped it would work for Joker. She had wanted to give him a massage for the longest time but he could never really relax because he disliked having people behind him, touching his bare skin. She figured that if he could see what she was doing in the mirror it might help him. Joker hugged the pillow under his chin and watched her reflection intently, she pulled out a bottle of oil and began warming it in her hands, “I’d like it more if you were naked too.” He saw her look back at his reflection and rolled her eyes, “Maybe in a little while then.” Feeling her slick hands stroke over his bare back made the man let out a low moan; he loved being touched. Stroked, pet, cuddled, caressed - it didn’t matter as long as it was a positive touch. His kink wasn’t being choked or hit or even just tied up. His kink was being treated sweetly by his lover.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

“Excuse me, ma’am.” The shop assistant sounded a little panicked from outside the changing room door. “Ma’am, you… you can’t have your boyfriend in there with you. I’m sorry but please stop having -‘relations’.” Y/N glared at Joker as he held in his laughter, she had told him to get out the second he had materialised in her changing room but he had said he wanted to play. “Anywhere isn’t an acceptable location for this kind of thing, Joker!”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It didn’t take much to turn her boyfriend on, sometimes just looking in his general direction was enough motivation for him to pull her into long, lovely kisses and feel his hands sneaking under her clothes to caress her body. So as she finished paying for her new lingerie and took the bag from the cashier, she had to wonder how he was going to react to her intentionally teasing him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Going through her sex toys seemed to be one of his favourite hobbies, mostly because it would make her stutter and feel flushed. This time Joker held up a pretty chain with a clamp either end, “Those are nipple clamps, JJ.” “They look like they hurt…” He tossed them aside in distain then found a pair of handcuffs next, “Why… would you intentionally want to be hurt?” Joker put those back too, his expression unhappy. Y/N came to sit down beside him, “Sometimes a little pain feels good-“ “Sex and pain shouldn’t go together. I’m never going to use any of this shit on you.” She gave a little shrug, embarrassed that he didn’t approve of her little kinks but understanding all the same, “And that’s okay… I’ll never mix the two together when I’m with you. I promise I’d never try to hurt you.”

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

His hands gripped her shoulders a little too hard and Joker quickly moved them to the edge of the kitchen counter behind him so he wouldn’t bruise her. Her mouth was so warm and the way she was sucking him felt so good that his legs were starting to shake. As much as he loved having his mouth on her and his tongue inside - this was always his favourite treat. It took all his willpower not to thrust into Y/N’s mouth; one look down and he felt his balls tighten at the way her lips stretched around him and how damn pretty she looked like this. “I-I’m gonna… Fuck, Y/N, I’m - !!” P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

The headboard of her bed thumped rhythmically against the wall as Joker plowed into her, his hands holding her thighs up and open so that he could go deeper. “J-Jo-ker! Ah, I… P-please!” He felt her walls tightening around him, heard how wet she was and knew she wouldn’t last much longer. The man slowed his pace, still filling her to the very hilt but almost dragging out how quickly he pulled out to the tip and then dived in deep again. Unable to process the mixture of slow and fast, hard and gentle, Y/N’s body began to shake and tremble, her eyes squeezing shut as his name filled the room loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

The endearing problem with her odd boyfriend, other than not knowing where he came from or even where he would come from next, was that he was able to go - sexually - at a moments notice. He loved a quickie, he loved it slow, sideways and once he had loved it upside down. Y/N had taken to carrying extra underwear with her just in case.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Y/N loved Joker, she adored him and she knew he cared about her deeply too… she just wished he would try new things with her that were not so safe. She liked a little breathplay every now and then but Joker wouldn’t risk choking her. He was a strong man and he knew he could get carried away. Then again, she thought as she looked at how high they were on the roof of a skyscraper, he liked to have sex in some pretty scary places.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

“I… actually can’t…” Y/N rolled onto her side panting heavily, everything ached a good way, the sheets were wet under her and every time Joked touched her she felt her body spasm. She was over sensitive and even though she knew he could make her orgasm again - she ws certain she would probably die. “I need a break.” “Okay, then we can go for round six?”

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Joker loved toys. His favourite thing was to go through hers and then try them out if they interested him enough. There were many times he would bring new ones home for Y/N and then look at her with an excited purple eye. Y/N looked at the new toy he had brought home and blinked, “Is that a fucking tentacle dildo?!”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sometimes Joker wasn’t aware that he was actually teasing her, he just liked to touch her. Y/N bit her bottom lip as his thumb brushed over her clothed nipple again, it was hard and aching from his absent minded touch - she had no doubt he was only messing with her nipple because it was erect. It was the same for his other touch on her body. His other hand was on her inner thigh, his fingers tracing up and down the seam of her bottoms. “You’re driving me crazy!” “I haven’t even done anything?” Joker let out a surprised yelp as Y/N pinned him down to the sofa and climbed on top of him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

“I’m calling the police!” Y/N hid her face in Joker’s neck as they listened to her neighbour yell through the wall - they were kind of loud on a regular basis. “I could go and have a word with him?” “Don’t you dare, Joker! We’re already in trouble because you did the…. Thing!” He grinned and blew a few heart shaped smoke rings for her, “You love it when I do the Thing.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The bouquet of flowers she found on her table when she got home were a wonderful surprise. She noticed they were mostly purple with her favourite colour splashed in here and there; she didn’t need a note to know Joker had left them for her. Putting her bag down and kicking off her shoes Y/N picked up the flowers and smelled them, appreciating the gesture more than the aroma. Looking around the small apartment for him she realised that she must have just missed him… or he was hiding. Joker was surprisingly shy when it came to romantic gestures. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) The first time she saw him naked, Y/N had been a little intimidated because, like most things about him, his cock was long. There was no way all of him would fit inside her without tickling her tonsils. Trying to calm her nerves she had turned her gaze onto his body, ran her hands over his lean muscles and pressed kisses to the scars she found. “One day, you’ll share your story with me, JJ.”

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

“Are you done?” Joker asked as he hovered over Licht, the young man was testing some new formula and he had said he needed Joker’s help. Watching the vial turn a different colour the scientist smirked to himself, “Have you got a date?” “I’m just horny. I miss Y/N and you’re being so boring!” He knew he had a problem, he knew he probably had too much sex but who could blame him when he had such a wonderful woman waiting for him?

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

His head rested on Y/N’s shoulder as they lay in bed; he couldn’t sleep and she was trying to help soothe him to sleep. She massaged his scalp between running her fingers through his hair and she had even tried making him a hot drink. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep, even after the euphoric release of a good orgasm to melt his troubles away. Feeling her hand brush over one of his scars Joker let out a sign, “Remember when you said one day I’d share my story?” Her hands paused for a second, the weight of his words causing her breath to stutter, “…Yes.” “Would you still love me, even if I wasn’t a good man?” “No matter what you were in the past,” She kissed the side of his head, “You’re my Joker and I’ll love you for who you are now.”

[brelione]

The Countertop (Topper,Rafe,Kelce X Reader)

The Best Boys Masterlist

When Rafe got the text he was in the bathroom of the yacht,blood coming from his nose as he stuffed the small bag of white powder back into the pocket of his khakis.He heard the ding,looking over to check the notification.He felt his heart drop,regretting the line he just did. 

“Panic attack,(Y/N)’s house.”Was all the text said.Topper had sent it to the group chat with him,Kelce and Rafe.Rafe cursed,looking up in the mirror at his bloodshot,dilated eyes.He certainly couldnt help you,not when he was like this.He pinched his nose for a moment or two,letting it drip into the sink before he rinsed it down the drain,leaving the bathroom and putting his phone in his pocket.

He looked around at the groups of people,eventually finding Wheezie and gripping her shoulders. “I need you to cover for me.”He told her,completely serious.She frowned,looking over at Ward. “Where are you going?”She asked.He sighed,looking over the side of the huge boat to look at the Jet Ski that was tied by a thin rope. “(Y/N) needs help.”Was all he said,quickly thanking her before running down the flights of stairs to get to the lowest floor,gripping onto the railing and getting onto the jetski.

He tucked his phone into the pocket of his shirt,ripping the rope before gliding through the water as fast as possible,guessing on how to get to your house.He knew how to get to his house,at least.So thats where he ended up.He got onto his own dock,sprinting around the front of his house and getting into his truck,going way too far over the speed limit.

He pulled into your driveway,slamming on the brakes so he wouldnt crash into your garage.His door was opened before the truck was even parked,seeing Kelce’s car parked on the sidewalk.Rafe burst through your door,heart aching when he saw you sobbing,Kelce trying to talk to you while Topper rubbed your bare back. “What the hell happened?”He asked,not even understanding the situation.

You opened your mouth,trying to talk but only a sob came out,Topper pulling you back to him and tracing shapes along yout arm,whispering sweet nothings to you to try and help.He sent a glance towards Rafe,shaking his head.Rafe closed the door,sitting on the arm of the couch,slowly stealing you away from Topper and moving onto the couch,letting you squeeze him as tight as you needed too and he could feel your shallow breaths through his shirt.

Kelce was watching you,watching as the tears stopped falling,your eyes puffy and your bottom lip trembling.Rafe felt your grip on him becoming less tight,too weak to do squeeze him.He didnt move his arm away from you,knowing that if you were ready to let go you would push away from him. “What’s going on,princess?”He asked softly,careful to make sure his voice didnt come out harsh or shaky.

You gulped,licking you lips that tasted like salt and metal. “I hate my mom.”Was all you could say,your voice cracking.He nodded,kissing your forehead. “I know,baby.I know.”He answered,taking in a big breath.You huffed,pulling away from him,wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “So how are you guys?”You asked,struggling not to cry again.

Kelce grinned slightly,squeezing your hand. “Im good,sweetheart.Do you want to talk about whats happening with your mom or do you want to be distracted by it?”He asked,tapping at your knuckles.You shrugged,feeling more sick than anything. “Okay,well why dont we go out to the pool so you can cool off then?”He suggested.You nodded,not fully away from Rafe yet.

Something was off with him.His hair looked like he had been pulling at it and he was more tense than usual,seeming like he was holding something back. “Um...you and Top have bathing suits upstairs.”You mumbled,your hand gripping the fabric of Rafe’s shirt.Topper nodded,tapping your ankle before he got up,Kelce giving you a small smile before going upstairs as well.You pulled away from Rafe,feeling your legs becoming tingly and your heart speed up,eyes watery. 

“Are you high right now?”You asked,a few tears sliding down your cheeks.He swallowed,looking away from you,eyes widening as he realised that he had just given himself away. “Rafe-you drove here high?”You asked,your voice high,eyes stinging.He nodded,not able to look back at you. 

“Jesus Christ-are you crazy?You couldve crashed or died or killed someone!I cant lose you-I cant fucking do it and mom is fucking gone and-and if I lose you what the fuck am I supposed to do?I dont understand why-I dont understand why you cant just-fuck.”You sniffled,trying to figure out what you were going to say.He looked up at you,feeling a lump in his throat. 

“You needed me here so I did what i had to do.”He answered,reaching for your hand only for you to pull away from him. “I hate you.”You mumbled,sniffing.His jaw dropped,a wave of nausea hitting him. “You cant mean that.”He whispered.Of course you didnt mean that.You could never hate Rafe even if you really wanted too. “You might fucking overdose or something.”You whispered,wanting nothing more than to cup his face and kiss him,tell him all your thoughts and twirl his fingers in your hair.

He shook his head,glancing over at the staircase every couple of seconds. “I wont,I wont.I dont do that much.”As the words came from his mouth he realised just how bad they sounded. “Bullshit.What happened in my bathroom then?That looked like a lot to me.”You took in a big breath,trying not to let yourself spiral again.

He just stared at you,hearing the other boys coming down the stairs. “We can talk about this later,okay?”He asked,leaning forward slightly.You nodded,looking over to see Topper and Kelce in their blue and grey bathing suits.Kelce stared at Rafe,silently telling him to go get changed.Rafe nodded,prying his eyes off of you and getting off the couch,heading upstairs.

Kelce sat down across from you where Rafe had previously been,his hands in his lap. “Do you need an ibuprofen or a hug?”He asked.You swallowed,leaning forward and resting your head against him,your arms around his bare shoulders. “THis sucks.”You mumbled,closing your eyes.He nodded,running his pointer finger along your spine. “I know,I know.Things will get better though.”He answered,his hands holding both sides of your head as he placed a kiss against your hairline.

You got up eventually,going upstairs to your room to grab a bathing suit,colliding your fist against the wood out of anger.Anger towards your mom,anger towards yourself,anger towards Rafe’s addiction.Rafe stood in the door way,confused as to what the loud bang he had heard was.You didnt notice him,throwing the clothes from your drawers all over the room,smacking the top of your dresser,your jaw clenching.

You brought your arm back to punch the wood again,only for someone to grab your arm,spin you around and push you against your dresser. “You have to calm down.”He whispered,holding tight on your wrists.You avoided eye contact,glancing down at his bare chest. “I am calm.”You replied,pushing him away as you went to find the one peice bathing suit that you had thrown across the floor.

He was just glad that you werent as bad now as you had been the last time he watched you get like this.You had started to punch yourself in the thighs and ankles until they were bruising.He had to pin your hands on top of your head and beg you to calm down.It had scared the living shit out of him.He probably couldve handled it better but Kelce wasnt there to talk to you which left just him to take care of things.

You finally found the black sim suit,not even caring at this point,tearing off your pants and kicking them into the corner.Rafe bit his lip,forcing himself to turn around.He heard the straps of the bathing suit smack against your shoulder,walking up next to him to grab a tshirt from your drawer and pull it on over the bathing suit,leaving your room and not bothering to clean up the mess that you had made.

He looked around your room,deciding he could just clean it up for you later.He followed behind you,noticing that the boys had already gone out to the pool. “Hey,lets talk.”He spoke,stopping you as you walked through the kitchen. “What?What do you want to talk about?”You asked,leaning against the kitchen counter.He sighed,his hands on the marble countertop o either side of you,staring down at you.

 “Whatever you want.I’ll answer whatever you want me to.”He replied.You nodded,thinking of everything you wanted to know.  “Whatever I want?”You asked.He nodded.“Have you….god,I dont know.Have you ever like….hurt someone when you were high?”You asked,knowing the answer when he started to bite the inside of his cheek. “Yeah,I have.I’d never hurt you though,if thats what your asking.”His hands tightened around the marble,watching as you bit your lip.

 “What about Top and Kelce?Have they ever done drugs?”You asked,nearly gasping when you saw him nod. “Did you make them do it?”You asked,dreading the answer. “I didnt force them to do it...Kelce only did it once and he only did one line.Top did three a couple months back.”Rafe answered,being as honest as he could with you. 

“When did it get this bad?You used to only do one line a week and now you’re doing like,a line a day.”You instinctively sat on the countertop,barely any space between you two.He cleared his throat,not knowing what to say because he didnt want to send you back into panic. “I know,im trying to get better.I’ve never done it in your house,like ever.You know that.”He reminded you,keeping his distance.

He figured that if he touched you at all you’d become insecure or angry,swat his hand away and probably begin to cry again. “Im not mad at you,you know that,right?”You asked,feeling your nose start to run again.You quickly pulled up your shirt,pinching your nose with the fabric.He nodded,tapping his short finger nials on the marble counter.The conversation went on for probably five minutes before the big question came,the one that you had been dreading.

 “Do you have any on you right now?”You asked,not even caring at this point.When the conversation began and you hadnt been shocked by any of his answers you probably wouldve been upset when he nodded.You werent upset,or shocked or even mad.Just numb. “I thought you were out on the boat,”You saw him frown,not understanding where you were going with this. “So how did you drive here?”You asked.He simply shrugged his shoulders,staring down at his feet.

 “I jumped off the side and got on the jet ski.”He answered,making you smile slightly. “You got onto the jetski and then drove over here?”You asked,your hand sliding down his arm and your fingers intertwining with his.He became less tense,his other hand no longer gripping the marble so hard that his fingertips were turning purple. “Yeah,I just peaced out.”He laughed quietly,his forehead resting onto your collarbone.You licked your lips,legs wrapping around his waist comfortably.

If only you knew the things that he felt within him when you did that. “Hey,”You mumbled,making him pick up his head a bit. “Do you….do you remember when you kissed me?”You asked,feeling him tense under you,his head moving off of your collarbone,staring down at you. 

“Yeah.”He answered.You nodded,hands ending up in your lap. “Did you tell Kelce?”You asked,not even understanding why you had asked that.Kelce had always been extremely important to you.He was the one person you could trust with your insecurities or ask him for coping mechanisms.Now you were starting to wonder if maybe you had a thing for Kelce.

Everyone was making you question your feelings and your sanity. “I mean,I kind of had too.You know how he is,he figures shit out by body language and he knows when something is going on.I dont even know,hes the only one that ever payed attention to Criminal Minds,im not even gonna lie to you.”he replied,biting his lip as he waited for your reaction,only to hear the sliding door open.

His head whipped around,seeing Kelce standing there with water dripping from him. “Are you guys okay?Its been like ten minutes since you’ve changed.”Kelce looked over at you,more specifically the position you were in with Rafe practically on top of you. 

“Yeah,yeah we’re fine.I was just talking about life.”You slowly got off the counter,flicking at Rafe’s thigh as you slid past him and walked by Kelce,going to sit in the shallow end of the pool.Kelce watched you,positive you couldnt hear as he entered the house,closing the sliding door and glaring at Rafe. “Did you say something to her?”He asked.

Rafe shook his head,attempting to walk past him only for Kelce to put a hand on his shoulder and hold him in place. “Why does she look more upset than she was ten minutes ago?”He asked,pushing further. “Because she found out that im high and got mad about it.We talked it out and now everything is fine,okay?”Rafe nodded a bit,sliding the door and walking out of the house,Kelce sighing.

Things were getting messy and he was always the one to hold things together.But now he wasnt even sure if he wanted to do that anymore.He stood in your house for a couple more minutes,finally putting a smile on his face and walking back out,seeing Topper kneeling in front of you and splashing water into your face.

You were squealing at the cold water,grabbing Topper by his wrists and pushing him back into the water,his hair becoming soaked and sticking to his forehead. “YOU BITCH!”Topper shouted,throwing you over his shoulder and running through the water and into the deep end,your legs wrapping around him tight so he’d go down with you.

Rafe grinned at your laughing,you rubbing your eyes and slicking your hair back out of your face.Kelce was tense,trying to soften up again but between Rafe’s smirk as he watched you,Topper holding you and the face that so much was happening was making him a bit mad.He stuck his feet in the pool,not paying attention to much except for the clouds that were moving at sloths pace.

He felt two warm hands wrap around his shins,trying to drag him into the water.He grinned,kicking his feet and forcing you to let go. “You’re no fun.”You pouted,elbows on his thighs as you stared up at your friend.He grinned,shrugging at he ringed the water from your hair. “You seem like you’re in a mood,whats up?”You asked,ignoring Rafe’s stare. “I dunno,kind of just stressed.”He answered,holding onto your hands as he moved his feet in circles underwater.

 “Did you eat today?”You deepened your voice,grinning as he flicked you on the head. “Shut up.”He smiled,licking his lips. “Do you want to have a movie night tonight?I kind of just want to forget about things,you know?”You asked,tapping your fingers on his chest.He nodded,agreeing. “What movie do you want to watch?”He asked,helping you out of the pool so you could sit next to him.

 “I dont know,maybe a horror movie.I feel like it’ll get my mind off of reality.”You replied,squinting as the sunlight hit your eyes,not aware of the silver car that had just pulled into your driveway,someone walking right into your house as you sat at the pool with your friends.

@sweetlittlegingy​    @nicolefarley603 @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @newsies-yeet​ @butgilinsky @jjjmaybank @gracelovesbroadway  @one-stella @outerbongs  @copper-boom​  @httpstarkey​ @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl​  @simonsbluee   @jiaraendgame  @khiaraaa-in-spacee​  @on-socks-off​ @spn-marvel-nerd​ @i-love-scott-mccall 

Comment with a star if youd like to be added to the series taglist.

[futurewriter2000]

More than Family - pt. 3

A/N: It was such a long time since I had written a fic but I am so glad I did because wow. This was so fun to write and I hope you like it. Also I messed with the timeline a bit, so fuck it. I can write whatever I want. Woo, let’s go.

XX

Sirius was pacing in front of you, rubbing his chin and running his hands through his dense hair. He stopped, clasped his hands together and pressed his fingers on his chin. He stared at you, then zoomed out into his thoughts and then back at you. 

“I-” he started but the racket out on the hall caused his attention to avert from you. He looked at his watch and cursed under his breath. “Shit! They’re early.” he ran to the hall than back at you, grabbed you under his arm and poofed you away. 

You felt sick to your stomach as you had appeared in an unfamiliar room, bending over as anxiety came over you.

“Sorry, kid. They can’t know you’re here.” he led you to the bed and sat you down. “It’s an ugly side affect, you get used to it.”

“Ugh.” you let out a groan. “I don’t like magic.” you said as he let out a laugh. 

“It can be a bugger sometimes, yes.” he knelt down to you and looked at you a bit sadly. “I will be right back, kid. We’ll figure this out but for now, nobody can’t know about this.”

“COUSIN!” both of you heard a shout from the hallway. 

“Don’t cause any racket and just... wait... please...” he tilted his head. “For me.” he started to plead you with his eyes as you rolled your own. 

“Fine.”

----

Sirius did not trust you enough to leave the doors unlocked or to leave you without the silencing charm on your room but you were there, in his room, snooping. 

For the first few days you were kept in, you tried to avoid any kind of snooping, seeing as it was respectful to not touch his private things but it has gotten more dull as the day passed slowly and you had nothing to do than see him by the end of the day. 

He apparated in your room and found you lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. You didn’t jump, nor look at him but he knew you were furious at him. 

“I brought you a book.” he lifted the object in his hand and started walking towards you. 

You replied with silence. 

“I know this is an odd situation between you and me but we will talk, I pr-”

“Promise?” you finished instead of him. “Like you had promised four days ago?” you snapped, still not bothering to look at him. 

“It’s not easy, kid.” 

“I know it’s not easy.” you finally shot your head at him, glaring under your furrowed eyebrows. You jumped to your feet and started pacing. “You think you’re confused?! Imagine me being a kid and not knowing about half the things that happened in my childhood?! Imagine finding out that my mum is not my mum and my dad is not my dad and thinking that your dad was my dad because he was so fatherly-”

“That was not my father.” he snapped as well. He had no tolerance about his family. “My father was  cruel, evil and a pain in the arse.”

“He was the closest thing I had to a family.” your eyebrows started to tremble, as well as your lips. Sirius closed his mouth to argue. “He gave me the photo of you and James. He told me about my mother. He told me about you- everything about you! He said you were a good man! A fair man, honest, brave, daring and then I meet you and it’s like... like you’re nothing of that!! I’m here! Trapped like a prisoner and all I want is to talk!”

Sirius stood up and faced you his back. “No.” he mumbled under his breath, shutting his eyes with force and gritting his teeth. “You’re lying. That was not my father.” he growled. “He could never say any of those things you had just said.” 

“He spoke of you plenty.”

“How would you know? You said he only watched you from afar!”

“But he didn’t!” you shouted. “I knew there was more because I keep getting glimpses in my dreams about him and I playing chess and this boy- this boy that looks so much like you and he has such a nice smile- and...and... I have memories of him too! I just wish I could remember them because all I get is glimpses and as soon as they come they disappear! That’s why I need you!”

“Reg...” he mumbled under his breath, finally turning back to you and watching you with sorrowful, regretful eyes. “He-”

“Where in the  bloody hell are you cousin!” the two of you heard a shout from the hallway, both glancing at the door.

“No.” you said as you saw him apologise with his eyes. “No, you can’t just leave-” you started to run to him but he was already gone. “UGH!” you screamed and ran to his bed, screaming into the pillow. 

You were trying to remember the man from your dreams, the boy. You tried to focus on him, find out more about him but nothing came to light. 

But then you remembered. You were in his room. His room. 

You sat up and looked at his dark brown desk, which started to fall apart throughout the years. You walked to it, sitting on the creaking chairs and running your fingertips on the surface of the desk. You felt cuts, splinters that wanted to dig into your skin. At the very edge of the desk you saw initials- his initials. 

S. O. B. 

Except that the O and B were crossed over multiple times. You quickly averted your attention from there and looked at the wall in front of you. It was connected to the desk, with four small drawers on each side but in the middle it was an empty space, filled with polaroids, photos and writings. You saw quill and ink on the side, snorting a bit. “Who still uses a quill, old man?” you took the large feather in your hand and observed it. It was extremely light but what you did not know was what the feather hid. 

The Marauders - was what it was carved in wood, under the polaroid of three young boys. 

‘ Something pulled you away- something strong and powerful, letting you land on your 3rd grade classroom, listening about triangles. It was you and you were such a child back then. 

“(y/n)?” you heard your teacher call you from the door and you looked up. “Your uncle is here to pick you up.” she smiled and you could see yourself radiate with joy. 

And you couldn’t remember that day. You couldn’t remember anything about this specific memory that seemed to be hidden somewhere in your brain. 

Your little self ran out of the class with her backpack larger than her body and you saw the boy beaming at you. 

“Here’s my Princess!” he laughed as you ran into his arms and he lifted you up, spinning you around. You giggled joyfully as he placed you back down and took your backpack off your shoulders. “Let’s take this heavy thing off.” 

“Where are we going!? Where are we going?” you jumped over-excitedly. 

“It’s a surprise.” he winked at you, putting your backpack onto his shoulder and taking your small hand into his. “I asked the teacher about your progress. She said you had improved quite lovely.” he looked down on you.

“I listened to you. I did my homework every day after school and I didn’t leave the desk until I had finished it.”

“And you did it all by yourself?” 

“No. Dad had to help me with geography.” you started to get a bit upset and he seemed to notice it.

“Geography is a bugger sometimes.” he smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with getting some help. And mathmatics?”

“I’m top of my class.”

“That’s wonderful!” he laughed. “I’m proud of you.” 

“I just wish you’d come more often, Uncle.” you started to get upset again. “Granpa is fun and all but he keeps beating me at chess and-”

The man by your side let out a laugh. “Granpa was never keen on losing, kid. He did the same to me and my brother.” 

You stopped in your tracks and so did he. He had realised what he had said and shut his eyes regretfully. “You mean my real dad?” you looked up at him, looking up at him with watery eyes. 

The man knelt down to you and cupped your chin. 

“Why isn’t he here?”

“He- uhm.” he stopped, trying to find the right words. “He’s busy.”

“I want to meet him. I want to know who he is.” 

“No, you don’t kid. He’s extremely busy.” he started to get a bit frustrated and bitter. 

“Busy with what?”

“With Marauders.” he rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth in anger. “With him and Marauders- as they call themselves- they come before family.” he continued to speak bitterly and saw how awfully that affected you, so he fixed his thin-lipped smile into a beam and cupped your cheeks. “But we don’t do this here. Me and granpa won’t do this to you. Family comes first, (y/n). We’re not like your father. We choose family.” he kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug. ‘ 

You woke up from the memory, emotionally exhausted. You felt relieved and calm but so sad. You had no clue who the man was but how he made you feel was as close to family as you could get. 

You pushed yourself from the chair and started to dig around the drawers. 

Whoever this man was, he was right. Sirius didn’t care about family, he showed you that perfectly clear just about now, when he kept you in this room for four days and not telling you a single thing. He didn’t want to let you go but he didn’t want to tell you what is going on either. The fact is, you didn’t care about him anymore. You wanted to know more about your uncle. You wanted to know about his brother because he was there, you just can’t remember. 

There must be a reason he stopped visiting you- your uncle but you had to find him. You need to know but you couldn’t find a single thing about him except a photo of him and Sirius, somewhere far in the drawer. No name, no information. 

You ran to the bed and started to look for anything that could tell you something about him. You dropped on your knees and looked under the bed.

Nothing. 

“Ugh!” you let out a desperate groan and slammed your face on the rug. 

He forgot to lock the door.- you heard something in your ear and you quickly turned around to see who it was. 

There was nobody but you and the voice. You looked around and around with your heart thriving on adrenalin. 

Follow me. - it said from the door.

“Probably a bad idea.” you told yourself, staring at the door with wide eyes. “But at least it’s some idea.” you stood up and continued to stare at it. 

Trust me. - it continued and it was as if somebody took a hold of your hand, something so familiar and safe that brought the man back into your head; his piercing eyes and his wonderful smile.

And you could. You could walk to the door without feeling afraid anymore... with feeling him by your side. 

You put your hand on the handle and prayed to whoever was with you that the door was unlocked. With a twist you found out that Sirius left the door unlocked. 

You peeked on the hallway, hearing voices from a room far away. You looked both ways and before you could decide, something inside of you said right and so you did. 

You tiptoed down the hall and just stopped. 

Here. Look to your right. - it said and so you did. 

You put your hand on the door handle but it didn’t budge. “It’s locked.”

Try again.

“Why would I try again if it’s-” the door just opened and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Oh... yeah no. I’m not doing this ghost thing. I watched way too many horror movies to know where this is going.” you started to back away but it was as if somebody caught you and whispered. 

“Don’t you want to know about me?”

You turned around with a snap and started back away, staring at the empty space where that voice came from and before you had realised it, you were in the room.

It was similar to Sirius’. The bed, the desk, the cupboards, wardrobes, window... everything was placed on the same location as Sirius’ room. The only difference was that everything was covered in white sheets. 

You looked at the empty hallway then back at the room. “Fuck it.” you mumbled and closed the door in case somebody passes by. You did it as quietly as you could but even you couldn’t avoid the smallest creaks the old wood had caused. 

You pulled the sheets off everything. His bed, his desk, his wardrobe- everything. You even opened the window to get some light in the room before you decided to search through it. His name wasn’t hard to find in his own room. 

Regulus Arcturus Black. 

‘ “This is her?” he said as he walked behind your grandfather. His eyes were still, observing every inch of you. 

“This is her.” your grandfather smiled as he moved another piece of chess down the board. “(y/n).” he looked at you as you looked at him. “This is your uncle, my son, Regulus Arcturus Black.” he moved another piece as you looked up at the man. “He’s going to take care of you when I’m gone.” ‘

The memory left as soon as it came and a tear had fallen down your cheek. 

“Regulus.” you smiled to yourself and started to look through his things. 

His room was much more neater and organised than Sirius’. Everything was much more well kept, which you could see on his desk that had no scratch, nor carvings in it. It was smooth and tidy, much more darker than Sirius’. 

You started to open the drawers but there was nothing there except some letters, school papers and books. Until something in your gut feeling told you to turn around and walk to his night stand. 

Without a doubt you did so. Running to it and opening the smallest of the drawers. There was a box, quite larger than the drawer and for a moment there it confused you because how could a drawer so small hold a box this big. 

You opened it and found many letters, many photos of you as a child. 

You sat down on the bed and started going through it. 

‘Dear Uncle, 

I had finally finished it. I hope you come home soon! I can’t wait to see you again!

(y/n) ‘

You read with a photo of you holding your elementary school certificate. You looked at the date and saw that that was only 3 years ago. 

“I’ve known you three years ago.” you told yourself. “Where are you?” you dug through it, trying to find any evidence of him. 

You found another photo instead, a moving one. You were 16 years old- that was a year ago- when the two of you were filming him eating ice cream and when you appeared on the photo frame. 

You felt shocked to the bone. 

‘ “Hey, Reg!” you laughed, holding camera in your hand. “Say cheese!” 

“Cheese!” he smiled brightly. “Let me see!” he said as soon as he heard the camera click. “Why on Earth hadn’t you told me I have ice cream on my face?” 

“Now where would the fun be in that, Uncle?” you smiled.

“Have some respect for the elderly!” he gasped over-dramatically.

“What are you? 60?” 

“Oh, dear God no.” he laughed, wrapping his arm around you and walking along side you. 

“Though I see some grey hair making appearance.” 

“Oi, kid. Don’t make me throw you in the water.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Are we going to have to duel?”

“You did learn me a few tricks, haven’t you?” you smiled, showing him a glimpse of your wand from the hem of your pants. “When pupil outteaches the master.”

“Dream on, kid.” ‘

You opened your eyes wide. “I knew magic.” you blurted out. “He thought me magic!” 

[violetren]

Heads up I haven’t read any Old Guard material, (that’ll be changing asap) just seen the movie but here’s a thing anyway.

Quynh sets about tracking down Andy for revenge about that whole never finding her even after sonar became a fucking thing. She finds and uses Booker because as The Grounded One drinking his days away he was easiest to find even after their identities got scrubbed. Like 80% of his dream flashes were of this one easily google-able historic bar. Once Quynh figured out how to open a web browser it was over for him.

Anyways she strong arms Booker into helping. Dude is pining even though its been less than a year, and also he feels bad for Quynh after 200+ years of feeling her die and struggle and die again in his dreams. He’d honestly be cool with just holing up and spending the next century getting Quynh caught up on the modern age, and finding her some therapy. Then he’s not alone, not technically violating the rules of his banishment, and repenting/redeeming himself by taking on the struggle of helping Quynh heal.

But Quynh has plans and she gets even more insistent when Booker mentions that he’ll probably never get to see Andy again. Quynh is charismatic in a way that is similar but so different to Andy. Booker is a soldier not a general, even if he weren’t normally so inclined to follow, he’s just coming to grips with having made an awful choice when left to his own devices. He’ll do most things if she asks in a firm enough tone. He only seems to find his spine to curb the worst of her violent impulses. After over five hundred years the whole human spieces is worth taking revenge on if an opportunity presents itself.

She doesn’t believe him when he says Andromache - Andy, is on her last life. She rejects it violently. If she survived constant dying for 500 odd years Andy should be fine after far fewer and far more spaced out deaths over the same period, right? Still, it makes her more driven to complete her search as quickly as possible. It’s not because She might be mortal now she tells herself. It’s just that she’s already waited half a milenium, she shouldn’t have to wait any more.

It takes some doing, and some explosives, but finally Quynh finds her.

Booker has been dispatched to keep the crusaders occupied. Quynh has tricked all three of them into getting trapped in a panic room; she couldn’t trust that Booker wouldn’t get all sappy and lead them to her and Andy. Nile is too young for her to take seriously without having seen in action. Its a mistake the old Quynh wouldn’t have made. The old Quynh wouldn’t have known what it was like to wake from death to realise a fish was desperate enough for a meal to try and eat at her eyelids between semi regular bouts of thrashing and drowning either, so really. What good is thinking of what the old Quynh did or didn’t know?

So Nile is there, treated with no more regard than a piece of furniture as Quynh starts monologuing at Andy.

About how she abandoned her. About how she sacrificed Quynh for her own survival. How cruel she was to leave her at the bottom of the ocean. How dispicable it was that she made the younger immortals carry that, carry Quynh, in their dreams. Accusing her of finding some sick enjoyment of hearing about Quynh’s continued suffering through them.

Just all kinds of warped ideas that presented Andy with several opportunities to stand up for herself and say something. Opportunites Andy doesn’t take because holy-fucking-survivors-guilt batman! About the most she does is confirm the guys aren’t in immediate danger, wave off Nile’s telegraphed intent to tackle or shoot Quynh, and give Nile shut the fuck up glares whenever it looks like Nile might interupt Quynh’s speech on her behalf.

This continues for a while with Quynh getting increasingly frustrated that Andy is just staring at her all watery eyed and taking this shit. All this time and Andy can’t even find two words to say to her? She thinks the fuck not. She demands Andy say something.

“I’m sorry,” says Andy. She says it like it’s everything. She says it like she knows it’s inadequate.

Quynh pulls her gun. Nile throws herself in front of Andy like a shield. Taking a full clip of ammo to the chest.

When she revives it’s to Quynh giving ANOTHER monologue about how Andy is still letting people sacrifice themselves for her, and how pathetic it is, because she is, was, Andromache The Scythian. She should have taken those bullets with pride.

Nile is so, fucking, past done at this point.

Quynh takes two right between the eyes. When she wakes up she’s ziptied to a chair duct tape over her mouth. Andy, inexplicably, is also ziptied to a chair across from her. No duct tape though and it getting a 3rd lecture for the day. From Nile - who Quynh is finally realising is not just some child.

Quynh just has to watch as this young not-furniture-not-child gets in a shouting match with Andy. It’s pretty fucking surreal. It’s so surreal that it actually reassures Quynh that this isn’t just another predeath hallucination, and that she’s really out of that damn coffin, because honestly? No way would she be able to make up this less than a century old kid aggressively telling fuck off years old Andromache that “her life has value” while Andy all but pouts as she keeps trying to disagree only to get drowned out by more affirmations.

Then suddenly she’s on the recieving end as this kid goes off on her with some very creative threats involving concrete and active volcano’s if she so much as sneezes in an extremely mortal Andy’s direction.

That’s about when it begins to settle in for Quynh that Andy really does only have one death left. And how in the hell is she supposed to get revenge for centuries alone and dying if one wrong move means Andy gets to escape into the oblivion of death forever? She can’t. She has to reevaluate her entire definition of revenge. She barely managed to cling onto the definition she’s already found.

While she’s retreated into her mind to ponder this Nile has cleared the room of basically anything that looks even vaguely applicable for use as a weapon or a means of escape. Then she adds more zipties to Quynh. And Andy. Then she rips off the duct tape.

“I’m going to go get the guys, and maybe some lunch. You two can stay here and start talking through your issues.”

And then off she fucking goes.

Andromache almost goes hoarse shouting for her to come back, clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea. And if Andromache is uncomfortable with it well... Quynh grins, something wide and manic. It’s not the kind of revenge she’s after, but it’s as good a place to start as any. Maybe during the conversation she’ll find a way to really hurt her.

Maybe, whispers the tiny slither of her aching at the sight of Andromache’s red rimmed and haunted eyes, (the part that’s kept in a little iron coffin of its own) just maybe, she’ll find a way to heal with her.

[biisexualemma]

anger pt.2. oscar diaz

word count: 1667

warnings: sad and soppy

requested: no (because i already kinda wrote this before i posted pt.1 but i hated it but i have reread and now i like it yikes sorry) but yes (because people asked for a part 2!!)

plot: trying to move on (unsuccessfully)

a/n: thank you so much to those who have been liking/ reblogging/ commenting it makes me so happy to know that people like what i write! if you want to request anything in particular send me a message and i will get around to doing it eventually! thank you for being cool and supporting my writing i appreciate it so much :) anyway i hope you like this ok bye

pt.1

masterlist

it'd been almost a week. you hadn't been back to the house since, even though all your stuff was still there. you'd been staying with your sister for now.

the past week had been hard. you'd been trying to get to grips with him not being around, trying to get on with your normal routine like nothing had happened. but it was hard. you'd come home from work and you'd stay in your room. you couldn't bare to face anyone. oscar hadn't tried to reach you, you were pretty sure he was done with you and onto the next girl, which broke your heart even more.

you knew that oscar was just mad, he couldn't control his anger, he never could, that's why he left. but after the second day with no contact, you began to realise that maybe that really was it for you two.

your sister had been telling you to forget about him. any guy that couldn't see how amazing you were, wasn't worth the hassle, she'd tell you almost every day. you were starting to believe her.

you'd spent the majority of the weekend wallowing, wondering what he was doing, whether he was in some kind of trouble, whether he was thinking about you. you wanted him to come back to you but oscar wasn't the kind to come back for a girl.

cesar had texted you a few times, asking why he hadn't seen you around the house recently. you didn't text him back, because you couldn't write an answer that sounded right. it didn't feel like you'd broken up, because you were still holding on.

your sister convinced you it was time to collect your things. so you text cesar, asking if oscar was home and when he replied with a no why? you grabbed a couple of bags and hopped in your car with your sister.

standing outside his house now, you froze. your sister knocked on the door for you, and cesar's smiley face popped up from behind the door.

"what's up, y/n? and y/n's sister." he let you inside. you saw the kitchen where you'd last spoken to him. "sorry, i don't know your name?" cesar made small talk with your sister, but you blurred out the conversation.

you were too caught up. it was too real. it was really over. oscar wasn't going to call you up after work anymore to ask about your day. you couldn't cling to him at parties anymore when you were surrounded by his friends. you were going to have to watch him live his life unfazed by you, without you.

"hey," cesar's hand touched your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts. he looked confused. oscar obviously hadn't told him anything. "what's this all about anyway?"

"where's oscar?" you ignored his question.

"at the store. i think." he shrugged. "what's up? i don't understand?"

"we broke up," it was the first time you'd said it aloud. your heart beat sped up when cesar frowned. "i need to get my stuff before he gets back, ok?"

cesar followed you and your sister as you all piled into oscar's room. you pulled open the draw he'd cleared out for your things, and your sister began piling your things into a bag. you began collecting things off the floor, everything was how you left it. you couldn't help but notice the bed looked like it hadn't been touched. you wondered whether he'd been struggling with sleeping again.

"i don't understand, what happened?" cesar had been bombarding you with questions that you'd been ignoring. you carried on clearing, picking up your toothbrush and your hair brush.

"it doesn't matter, alright? i'm sure he can tell you himself." you were lying. oscar didn't speak to cesar about this kind of stuff. but you also couldn't stand in this room and tell cesar about how his brother broke your heart and not cry about it. so you picked up the last of your things and chucked the bag over your shoulder.

"y/n—" cesar put his hands on your shoulders to stop you running around. his expression killed you. he was such a good kid, you hated leaving him.

you cut him off, your eyes glossing over, forcing a smile. "it's alright, 'kay? text me whenever you wanna talk. i'm not leaving you. just your brother."

you pulled him into a tight hug, your sister calling you to hurry up as she'd already packed the rest of your stuff in the car. you pulled back, a couple of tears slipping from your eyes that you wiped away quickly. "love you, alright kid? don't let your brother give you too much of a hard time."

he nodded, his expression was too sad for you to keep looking at so you quickly made your way to the door to meet your sister in the car. as soon as you pulled open the door you were met with his eyes. you froze. his eyebrows furrowed, not expecting you to be in his house out of the blue.

"i just came to pick up my stuff," you managed to speak. but he saw your pink cheeks and watery eyes, he was silent. "see you around." you quickly, nudged passed him.

"hey." he mumbled quietly but you ignored him, pushing passed him, practically running to the car now that the tears were running down your cheeks.

"drive, please," you begged as soon as you got in the car. "go!" you wiped under your eyes, not daring to look in his direction.

this was going to be so much harder than you thought.

-

you spent the rest of your day in your sweats in front of the tv. your sister had gone to work, now that she worked night shifts, and left you alone with a tub of ice cream watching reruns of your favourite show. you hadn't done this in a long time. you'd been so happy for a long time, oscar just had to go a fuck that up.

so when you heard a knock on your door, you trudged over absentmindedly, expecting it to be a delivery man. but you were wrong.

it was oscar, standing on your doorstep. he looked tired, more so than usual. you wanted to let him in but you kept your distance, standing slightly behind the door.

"hey." he mumbled.

"what do you want?" you were cold. you couldn't have him seeing you cry again. you had to be firm. he had moved on, you had to at least pretend you had too, even if he'd seen you crying a couple hours ago.

"i—" he stopped himself, thinking what the right thing to say was. "—wanted to check on you."

you paused before speaking. "you can't do that anymore."

"i know— but—"

"oscar, you broke up with me. there's no reason for you to be checking up on me." oscar's expression was unreadable. his head ducked when you spoke, his hand rubbed across his face.

he regretted everything he'd said. he didn't know how to tell you he'd made a mistake. his sleeping patterns had gotten even worse now that he was waking up in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't call you. he would come home to an empty house, longing for your arms wrapping around him to make him feel just a bit better. he missed the way you would just sit with him, silently when he didn't want to talk, holding his hand. he missed everything about you.

"cesar's been bugging me about you," he tried to change to subject. "he told me i need to apologise."

"you should probably decide that for yourself."

"i fucked up," he blurted out, stepping closer to you. you were taken back. "i didn't mean anything i said."

your eyebrows furrowed, watching him try to apologise. your eyes were glossy but you refused to cry this time. he'd seen you cry too often lately. you didn't want to seem weak.

"i tried to be there for you because you were going through it. but i can't do it again. you treated me like shit.” your lip quivered. you wanted to run into his arms but you couldn't go back to how things were. you wanted to go back to when things were good between you two, despite everything else. "you need to sort your shit out because i can't do it for you. i can't fix everything and you can't take that out on me."

"i know— i'm sorry," you could see his glossy eyes though he tried to hide it. "i didn't know how much i needed you, until you weren't there."

"please—" he grabbed your hand, pulling him towards him and into a hug. he held you tight, your arms loosely wrapping around him. "i need you."

it broke your heart, hearing him beg like this. he was such a hard faced guy, he didn't often get emotional and if he did, it took a lot for him to show it.

"just— just don’t treat me like that ever again,” you mumbled into his chest. you sniffled, hiding your face in his chest. you missed this. you missed feeling wanted and appreciated. he mumbled a soft i love you and a never again "and i’m sorry i shouted at you. though you kinda deserved it."

"sorry i called you a bitch." he pulled back, holding your face in his hands. his hard face was soft. not many people saw oscar at his weakest like this. "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, mi alma, i don't wanna lose you again."

"then don't." you smiled sadly. you loved oscar. you knew you'd always forgive him because he was it for you. no one ever made you feel the way he did. his hard exterior was nothing compared to what was inside. he was so much more than what he was known for. he was a softie at heart.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

(Which Spider-Man?) Mary-Jane takes Miles under her wing instead or Peter has to kill Beck

(set after into the spiderverse)

1.

defeating kingpin and sending the other spider... well, men off to their own worlds felt great, but once it’s over miles has to face the fact that he’s still starting out on his own here and this world’s peter parker, his spiderman, is still fresh in the city’s memory. it means he gets some weird and mixed reactions from people during his first few swing-throughs of the city, but he tries to take them in his stride.

he reminds himself that he has people to go to for advice and support and an entire, whaddayacallit, spider cave to peruse if he wants to. there’s fresh and advanced webshooters, web fluid, costume changes, tracking and recording equipment, and besides, may parker is badass. there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be hanging out there all the time.

except--

there’s this way may’s eyes soften and get watery when she’s looking at him and thinks he isn’t noticing, her entire body cratering at the centre after being upright for so long. it’s awkward when she once asks him to call her ‘aunt may’ then stops herself, looking stricken, then never brings it up again. sitting in her house sipping hot chocolate means remembering the first time he was sitting in that hall; looking at the fading scorch marks on the wall; thinking uncle aaron i miss you and realising for probably the hundredth time that week that he’s never going to see his uncle again. it’s like he’s surrounded by a thousand invisible emotional tripwires, and he’s always walking into them and falling into some memory.

so, yeah. he doesn’t really go to may’s much, unless it’s for an emergency, or he’s running low on web fluid, or needs to repair his costume. it’s during one such trip that he finds mary jane watson sitting in the spidercave.

2.

mj (because of course she wants him to call her mj) is… nice. she’s nice. there’s not a whole lot more miles can say at first because again: peter parker is this sort of insurmountable wall between them, and as much as he bonded with other (his) pete, he isn’t quite sure what this (not his peter but technically his universe’s, so, well. shit. this is all very confusing) peter was really like. he was very kind to miles when he first saw him (and quicker to put two and two together) but did he have that same exhausted dad energy? was he scarily competent and an absolute slob at the same time? did he get that soft, wondering look in his eyes, like he’d received a gift he never expected to get, whenever he thought nobody was looking at him? did he ask his famous-in-her-own-right journalist girlfriend to help him be spider-man, or was that part of him mostly a mystery to her too?

miles could ask said-girlfriend, but… it’s too soon. too raw. too awkward. too miles-has-schoolwork-and-vigilantism-consuming-every-second-of-his-life-and-he-just-doesn’t-have-any-leftover-energy-to-deal-with-this.

they exchange phone numbers during their second meeting and it continues to be weird at first (what’s miles going to do? send mary jane watson pictures of minecraft memes?), but he quickly discovers that mj isn’t really interested in spiderman related--or even adjacent--conversations either. it’s mostly messages asking him about his day, or about school, or if spiderman’s really taking the subway every other morning (miles’ spider genes apparently don’t allow him to withstand swinging from building to building after a full cheeseburger meal). miles quickly loses his nervousness and it even becomes a sort of comfort.

then: the messages start getting… different. what you’re looking for isn’t there and see attachment and i can get you oscorp’s internal files on this and the nuclear material is coming in from oslo not ohio what the fuck even is this spellcheck

all the tips pan out because of course they do, it’s mary jane watson. miles isn’t entirely sure how she seems to know so often what he’s working on, but he suspects that she watches where he’s been as spiderman closer than he first thought. 

still, he feels awkward enough that it’s a while before he texts her i think i’m stuck on this one.

the reply is almost immediate: i thought you’d never ask.

3.

being spider-man is all fun and games until it suddenly isn’t: when miles realises he’s out there in the middle of an inferno without backup, during every moment he jumps off a building and thinks for a split-second, mid-air: what if i don’t make that next landing. more often than not he makes it out okay at the end of the day, but there are also moments like this: stuck under a wooden beam, hurt just enough that he can’t muster the strength to throw the beam off his back, fire raging in the floors beneath him, the heat wafting up threatening to cook him in his nice superhero suit.

i might not make it is no longer a split-second thought. in fact it’s a thought that occupies a lot of whole seconds strung together.

then: “spiderman!”

the shout is followed a few seconds later by mj herself, her form shimmering and wavering in the heat, handkerchief pressed to her nose and mouth. when she sees him her watering eyes light up.

miles’ jaw hangs open, and something clicks in his head: there’s no way spiderman could’ve existed without this reckless, brave, smart yet so stupid, incredible person. 

he’s a lot less nervous about asking for help after that, and about reminding her that yeah, he can be a little foolish at times, but she was the one who ran alone into a burning building to help somebody with super-strength and super-healing. she never argues that last one, just smiles fondly.

4.

mj becomes fast friends with miles’ mother. miles doesn’t even remember how they met--ran into each other at the grocery store every weekend? something. it isn’t really relevant. what’s important is that now mj and his mom appear to be best friends, and miles isn’t sure how to feel about this. he gets the notion that, despite not being bitten by a radioactive spider, mj is much farther along in this world than he is. boundaries are different. more porous. 

even so, mj is… something else.

sometimes, sitting across from her at the dining table at home, it feels like the world is a little bit warmer, a little more… complete. then she would catch his eye and give him a knowing smile, and miles is in his costume again, poised at the apex of an expansive arc and not knowing where he’s going to land in a world he’s starting to realise he doesn’t really understand after all.

he never tells mj about the multiverse spidermen, though he can tell she is curious about where he disappears to every now and then. truth be told, he’s a bit scared of how she’ll react to the idea of other peters existing.

5.

months after that first meeting, miles and mj visit peter’s grave together. 

it’s probably the first time miles has seen mj be anything but calm and put-together. exhaustion piles in like sand in a tipped hourglass. her shoulders slump and her nails claw into a faded sweatshirt that she’s holding in her hands. and yet… she’s holding back, miles realises. for all that he’s seen of her in the last several months, there’s a layer she’s still reserving for peter and miles… doesn’t resent it exactly, this peter spectre that keeps coming up between him and everything that he wants to know about how to do his job, but he hopes…

he hopes he’ll get to know mj some day.

he walks away to a cafe nearby. mj joins him half an hour later, eyes red and mascara smeared but her face dry. they buy milkshakes and plot their next move against doc ock.

 -

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

[siriuslyshewrote]

5AM - Finn Shelby x Reader

Requested by @violetsdicaprio “Okay so, can I request a Finn Shelby fic where he uses the prompt “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.” Maybe Season 4 when Changretta is there and he has ordered an attack on the reader maybe because she found out something, like she overheard something in a bar?” Hope you enjoy it love xx

We run into a dark room, And we spasm to the sounds

You shouldn’t even have been at that bar in the first place, You should have been at a Shelby family meeting (something which you had been introduced to a few months ago, when Finn and yourself had gotten engaged,), but for the first time, you blew it off. That was what bugged you afterwards, and if you could communicate with your past self, you would scream not to agree to a night out with your sister and her husband. But you did. You were excited, not having seen your sister since she found out she was pregnant several weeks ago, due to clashed schedules, and a hell of a lot of work commitments - because working at the Shelby Company wasn’t your typical nine to five job -  you had yet to congratulate her in person. Finn was supposed to be accompanying you, but he had said he couldn’t at the last minute, saying Polly had insisted he was at the meeting (and wasn’t best pleased that you weren’t going to be there, either).

And so, that was how you had found yourself in your current situation, irritated at Finn after yet another argument,  tired from work, with the swollen ankles that came from the precariously high heels you insisted on wearing. You were nursing your second glass of a rather strong whiskey, standing and waiting for your sister, who was never on time, as scatterbrained as she was. You half had zoned out looking around at the people in the bar, laughing and dancing to jazz music. You looked at a young couple, smiling at each other, positively lost in each other’s eyes, and wondered just when Finn and you had lost that childhood sweetheart innocence.

You were half in another world, until you heard the utterance of ‘Shelby’ behind you, in a thick accent that sounded rather suspiciously Italian. 

Of a copy of Morrissey , Or the blues of the Deep South

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You barely even moved whilst you tried to listen to what the men were saying. They probably didn’t expect for anyone associated with the Shelby’s to be here, in this bar several miles away from Watery Lane, a place that was nowhere near where the Peaky boys patrolled, with their guns that gleamed in the light of the streetlamps, that inspired fear in others, but a feeling of safety in you. They were speaking English, surely a way for them to fit in more with the scenery around you, to not arise any suspicion, but you’d know that accent anywhere. It had been drilled into you, practically, and as one of the men said Luca in a low tone, you knew it was the Changretta’s sat behind you. You should have ran then, sprinted away, never looked back. But you stayed, swirling your drink in your glass, watching the intoxicating amber liquid go round and round and round.

And the drugs will only hide it

“You are being stupid, Luca.” A man’s voice spoke harshly.

That fucking name Luca. The name of the man who had so ruthlessly and callously ordered his men to kill your future brother-in-law only weeks ago. He had had no thought about Esme, a woman who you loved like a sister, or John’s seven children, or his youngest brother who was slowly being forced to take John himself’s role, a role that distorted Finn so quickly it was like you had woke up one morning next to a completely different man. No, Luca Changretta hadn’t thought of any of this, and you would be happy to see him put to a stop.

The feeling never really goes “Attacking them in their own home? It is suicide, my boy.” The words he spoke were so filled with meaning that you half froze in your chair. You were sure that their was only one family that they could be talking about.

“I guess we will see tonight, if you are correct. But it was not so difficult to kill the last one, now was it?” A gloating voice, one that must have been Luca spoke, and it was all you could do to not turn around in your seat and punch him for his words. 

Your hand shook slightly, as you placed the glass down on the counter again, picking up your bag from where it had been, and slipping from your seat, a poor attempt to look casual, pushing through the doors into the cold early January air, your breath fogging in front of you, as your heart beat so violently and loudly that you heard it in your ears.

You had to warn them. At any moment Luca’s men could be at their door. You squeezed your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to picture it, not to think of Finn, because if you thought of Finn you would panic, and you couldn’t, not right now. You pulled off your high heels, feet hitting the frosted cobblestones, as you made to begin to run. You barely made it a few meters, before you heard the click behind you, the calm, cool voice.

And we won’t find love, at the bottom of a glassy hole. 

“Y/N Shelby! A pleasure to finally meet you.”

You turned, raising your hands slightly, to see Luca, standing alone, smoking a cigarette, his eyes calculating and humourous, locked with your own. He looked so casual, that to anyone else, it would look as if you two were just having a conversation, albeit one at gunpoint, the gun you could see now, aimed directly at your abdomen. If he shot it, it would guarantee a rather slow, horrifically painful, death for you.

“Y/N L/N, actually.” You snapped, your mind whirring, telling you to keep him talking, until you could figure out some fucking way to get out of this. You could feel the cool metal of your own gun, strapped to your thigh, but there was no way you could grab it without him realising.

And you don't know what you've got until it's gone

“Ah yes, you haven’t quite sealed the deal yet, have you?” He exhaled the smoke from his cigarette, as he walked closer to you, until he was only half a metre away, and you could smell the smoke. “When is the wedding?”

“We’re not going to have one of you keep killing off my guest list.” You spoke sardonically, trying not to seem as deathly afraid as you were. To Tommy, or Arthur, or even Finn, this wouldn’t be a big deal, you thought. They’d have plans for this sort of thing, but this was your first time being held at gun point. You wondered if it was the sort of thing you got a cake for at Shelby Limited, like normal companies did for an achievement.

He laughed, though his eyes didn’t express any emotion.

“You’re a funny girl, Miss L/N. It’s a shame, really, that I have to do this.” He gestured towards the gun. “But, needs must. You overheard my conversation, didn’t you?”

He stepped even closer, and you were almost sure you could hit him with the element of surprise, hit his gun from his hands. But your shaking hands betrayed that thought. What if it didn’t work? What then?

And you don't know who to love until you're lost

“You really do have to be fucking stupid if you don’t think that Tommy won’t have preempted any of the shit you plan to pull.” You spat, lowering your hands a tiny fraction. He didn’t notice.

“He seems rather distracted lately, doesn’t he? And anyone in Birmingham can tell you about the... ah, what should we call them? Cracks that are beginning to show in the Shelby family.”

“Perhaps he is distracted because your family murdered his fucking wife, Changretta.” Your hands were now barely raised, but he was distracted, each of your staring into the others eyes - fear and anger versus power and arrogance.

“As he killed my father.”

“This is nothing to do with me. Just let me go, okay?”

“You have already ruined my plans. Someone will have already found your boyfriend, I assume, and he and the rest of the Shelby’s will be on their way here.”

“So go. You know you can’t win against them. Not tonight.” Your heart was thrumming in your ears so loudly everything felt almost quiet in comparison.

And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed

“But I can take something from them. Your time is up, Miss Shelby.”

“Y/N?” You heard a yell, an almost terrified one, but it was at least a street away. Finn would never get here in time.

Changretta turned his head towards the noise, and you took that moment, grabbing the gun in his hands, trying to wrestle it out of them, desperately. There was a bang and then there was silence, and the gun slipped from between your fingers, clattered to the floor. Your eyes regarded Changretta with shock, as your knees began to buckle, and you landed onto the cold hard cobbles, hands trying to find what was wrong.

“I’m sorry I had to do this.” For a second, you almost thought he sounded genuinely sad. “But your family took something from me. Now, I must take everything from them.”

“Y/N!” The voice was louder now, and you turned, to see a group of men at the top of the street - Finn amongst them. They came too late.

I wish you'd live like you're made of glass

You turned back to Changretta , but he had already gone, disappeared into the shadows.

It only felt like seconds before Finn was in front of you, and you had raised a shaky hand to point the direction where Luca Changretta had gone, directing the rest of the Blinders with him. Soon, the way it had always been, it was just the two of you. Finn and Y/N.

His eyes scanned you for injuries, before they landed on your abdomen, the dim streetlights enough to see the scarlet liquid on your dress, spreading across the cobblestones. It was too much, for such a small person, you thought. You weren’t shocked, as you saw it, you knew as soon as the gun went off you were hit, and now you could feel the metal bullet, lodged somewhere inside you, feel the pain that extended to your fingers and toes.

“No.” He said quietly, his eyes locking with yours. “No.”

“Finn-“ Your hands reaches out to cup his face, the blood on them leaving marks on his cheeks, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel his warmth. You were so cold. So fucking cold.

“I need an ambulance.” He roared, looking towards the pub where you had been only ten minutes before, where several people were looking out at the scene. “Right fucking now!”

They weren’t ones to ignore a Shelby, and so they dissapearwd from the window. You knew it would do no good. You knew you-

And we've got work in the morning, But it's nearly 5 a.m.

“I’m going to die Finn.” Your eyes were filled with tears, as were his, as he tried to press your wound, ripping off his jacket, holding it against your abdomen.

“No you’re not. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He repeated like a mantra, his voice shaky and cracking at every word.

Finn knew death. He had seen what felt like a hundred people die, had been the cause of several, and he knew from the look in your eyes, the paleness of your skin, that this was the end. Somewhere, deep down, he knew you were going to die, right there, on this rainy street, cold, and scared. He knew he could do nothing about it.

“It’s okay, Finny.” You said gently, hands still caressing his face. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

“Don’t die on me now, yeah? Please.” That word, filled with so much emotion, as he almost begged you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry we argued ... tonight. I just ...” You trailed off, your mind not really working, not letting you find the words. God, it hurt so fucking much. In the distance, you thought you heard the ambulance.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.”

You nodded, leaning up against the wall behind you, feeling the cold start to set into your bones. The world felt almost fuzzy. You looked up, into the night sky. The pollution in Birmingham never allowed for stars in the sky, but you wished you could see them, right now.

You felt your eyes become heavier, like someone was weighing them down with pennies.

Is this really what we envisioned?

“Love you.” You mumbled, looking back to Finn. He was crying freely now, and you wanted to wipe away the tears, but it felt like you had forgotten how to move.

“Come on, the ambulance is almost here. Just a few more minutes.”

You shook your head, a tiny movement. You smiled at the boy, the boy who had made the last five years of your life bearable, who was your first, and last, love. You thought about the house you were planning on buying together, and the crib that you one day were going to have, and the honey suckle in the garden.

And you closed your eyes.

We won't be 21 again

[isthisthingeven0n]

don’t believe what you hear : j.w

brief summary: a rumour about you and your ex is spread online, and to your surprise, jeff doesn’t know whether to believe your truth or not 

word count: 1.2k requested: yes and omg i love the outcome - thank you to the anon who sent in the ask for this one  warnings: angst, swearing 

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

Walking out from David’s house, you head straight to your car with a hothead. “No, I don’t wanna hear it, Jeff!” You yell back at him as you fiddle with your keys, giving him the chance to run over and stop you from leaving. 

“You will hear it, why’d you do that?” He questions coldly, his hand covering your door handle as you furrow your brows, teeth gritted. 

“I didn’t do shit, Jeff. You seriously think I’d do something like that to you?” You retort, looking up at him with deep concern as he glances away. A small scoff leaves your lips as you push his hand away, allowing yourself to open the door. “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” You remark as you climb in and drive off before he can say anything else. 

Jeff swears under his breath as he watches you drive away. “Just give her a breather, dude.” Scott speaks up, walking out as everyone hovers by the doorway, having heard your entire argument moments ago. 

He knows better than to believe everything he reads, especially within the entertainment industry. But the photos published looked so real, the way your ex smiled at you, how you beamed back at him over coffee. The thought made Jeff burn up inside and slam his phone down during a casual conversation with everyone. 

As you reach your apartment, you’re still mad. Mad being an understatement; you’re furious. 

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Your friend looks up from her phone, seeing you storming in and pauses. “What happened?” She turns to face you before you’re able to disappear into your room and lock the door once again. 

You pause at the bottom of the stairs, fists clenched. “You know Milo turned up during our lunch the other day?” You question, watching as she nods in response. 

“Yeah, it was kinda weird but he’s still a nice guy.” She says half heartedly, seeing you nod along.

“Exactly, but you know he sat down and had a coffee before his shift at the Hospital and someone, a so called ‘fan’ took pictures and started a rumour that I’m cheating on Jeff!” You’re yelling in disbelief and anger. 

“What the fuck?” Your friend questions, rising to her feet as you groan loudly. “Did Jeff say anything?” Her voice softens as you look over at her with a watery gaze. 

“Of course he did.” You tell her sadly, taking yourself back into the argument as everyone watched. “He flipped his shit and I tried explaining, but it was no use.” Tears roll down your cheeks as your friend walks over, wrapping her arms around you.

“He’ll realise, Y/n.” She comforts you, but you shake your head in defeat. “He will trust me. Jeff isn’t a bad guy, he’s probably just confused right now.” She assures as you sniff, wiping your tears. 

“I know he isn’t,” You mutter. “I’ve just, I’ve never seen him so angry or upset.” All you can see is the rage in his eyes mixed with disgust as he looked at you after reading the posts all over Twitter. “I don’t think there’s any way he’ll trust me again.” 

Your friend sighs quietly as you turn around and walk up the stairs with a heavy heart, wanting nothing more than to be alone for a while. 

As you disappear out of sight, and the sound of your door closing alerts her she walks over to her phone and dials the number immediately.

She listens as it rings, waiting, just waiting for him to have the decency to pick up. 

“Oh, hey,” He answers quietly and opens his mouth to add, but she cuts him off.

“Jeff, what the actual fuck?” She blurts out and glances over her shoulder, ensuring you’re not in sight or earshot of her conversation. “You really think Y/n would cheat on you with Milo, seriously?” She questions, hearing a heavy sigh on the end of the line. 

Jeff rises to his feet, walking into the garden away from everyone who engage in hushed conversations once he’s out of sight. 

Closing the doors, Jeff walks to the railing, gripping it tightly. “I, I don’t think she would, no.” He tells her. “I overreacted, I get it.” He admits and listens as she scoffs loudly. 

“You think?” She sarcastically comments. “Y/n is so upset, she thinks you’ll never trust her again and I don’t want to see her upset. Just, just come over, let her explain okay.” 

“Alright.” He answers quietly. “I’ll be over as soon as I can.” He tells her as the phone line goes dead and he’s left with his own heavy thoughts once more. 

* Rising from a disturbed sleep you yawn loudly. “Hey sleepyhead,” You open your eyes quickly, seeing Jeff weakly smiling in your doorway holding an assortment of Tulips. 

You tense up as you focus on him. “What’re you doing here?” You bluntly ask, shrugging your blanket up over you as he looks down at the floor in defeat. 

“I came to apologise, and to also explain myself.” He explains, hesitantly stepping into your room he’s so used to wandering in whenever he pleases to. 

Your eyes follow his movements as he places the Tulips on your dressing table, pulling the chair out and sitting opposite you. “Floors all yours.” You mutter, crossing your arms as he shuffles, mentally composing himself. 

“Before we got together, I was seeing a girl briefly,” He starts, glancing up to see your eyes on him. “and, and she cheated on me, with her ex.” 

“You never told me that.” You speak up, and Jeff nods. “I knew you guys broke up, but no one ever talked about why.” 

“Yeah,” Jeff sighs. “it, it hurt me badly and I didn’t want anyone really knowing much about it since it was so short term. But then you came along,” He smiles to himself, remembering it like yesterday when you first met. 

“And you were scared I’d do the same?” The question leaves your lips without you realising. 

“I shouldn’t have overreacted like that, Y/n.” Jeff shakes his head. “I was such a dick to you, and you don’t deserve that, ever.” He rises to his feet, taking one step closer toward your bed as you remain still. 

“Then why’d you say all those things?” Your voice is laced with sadness as you keep your eyes fixated on your bedding, seeing it crease as he sits down on the edge. 

Jeff looks away from you and at your door, seeing the small framed photograph of you both from Christmas on the unit. “I wasn’t thinking at all. I just, I saw what was online and judged too quickly. In my head, I thought irrationally. I know you, and I know you wouldn’t do that, ever.” He explains, looking out of the corner of his eye to see you nod to yourself. “But I am truly sorry, baby.” He mutters, stretching his hand out toward you.

“I’m not letting this go lightly, Jeff.” You tell him as you shuffle toward him, still keeping your distance. 

“And I won’t blame you for that. Does this mean you’re giving me another chance?” He asks, a hint of a smile lining his lips.

You rest your hand on top of his. “We’ll see, Jeff.” You tell him quietly before moving closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “We’ll see.” 

[miracle-sham]

Vent Your Spleen Until You Keen.

| {Maribat 2k20 – Day 3: Out Sick} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

| Triggers/Warnings: Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Pneumonia, Concussions, Blood and Injury, Drowning, Explicit Language/some swearing. |

| Bloodied Robins aren't built to swim with clipped wings. Good thing the bats, birds, and bug are there to patch him up before it's too late. |

| Word count: 1968. |

==–==

| A/N: So as I mentioned in the authors note of the previous Ficlet, I got mugged in the dark dank alleyway by the Maribat2k20 MariTim prompt calendar and stabbed by the knife of inspiration. Except this time it was the angsty knife of inspo. So enjoy a nice but of hurt with comfort. |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then send me a DM or an ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

==–==

 Crashing into the Miller Harbour waters after being thrown from the roof of a warehouse is not how Tim thought his evening would go. Then again, earlier, he hadn't realised this drug trade would be a trap, meaning now he just so happens to be the unlucky bat to get caught. Or in this case, dumped in the harbour. Which is great. Lovely. Abso-fucking-lutely spectacular.

 The crack of the armoured suit and gear slamming into the dubiously murky waves is accentuated by the thrumming pain from where his back and neck take the brunt of the impact. Tim arches in pain as the air is knocked out of him, leaving him gasping for breath. It's not helped by the chilly water breaching his suit and stinging his open wounds. I'm going to get so sick from this, urgh. He grumbles internally. Even if he wasn't lacking a spleen, the harbour's waters are polluted enough to make probably even Superman sick.

 Tim kicks upwards and is struck with the realisation of oh no, oh fuck. As the water weighs his suit down even more and he starts to sink. The cold saps his energy and makes him clumsy. Fingers slipping at the straps and zips and security measures on his suit. Grimacing, he struggles, strength waning too quickly. Sploosh-Thwip-thwip-thunk-clink, chunks of his armour detach and sink below, significantly slowing his descent but he's still sinking.

 He fumbles around his belt for his rebreather and manages to get it over his mouth just as his vision loses colour and goes fuzzy around the edges. Breathing heavily, he listens to the creepy sound of the rebreather working and flurry of air bubbles surrounding it.

 Shit, I'm running out of time. Tim curses in his head. He keeps kicking and the water is looking lighter, meaning he's close. So close. But not close enough.

There's a thunderous splash as Tim breaches the surface. He doesn't stop—can't stop, not if he wants to live. His swimming is the only thing keeping his blood pumping and head above water.

 His vision blurts violently and the darkness at the edges of his sight flares. Not enough time, not enough. The bank is closer though, I might make it?

 Tim blacks out.

 One second he was swimming for his life, now he's lying face down on the cement bank, gasping for breath like a dying fish. He pushes himself up, muscles protesting and shaking from cold and pain. There's a shallow pool of watery blood surrounding him—not good but could be worse. Just need to get back to my Nest and I'll be fine.

 Tim fiddles around his remaining armour and gear, tapping the self destruct buttons for the discarded gear, and grasping at the grapple hook in relief—it would be a pain getting back home without it. He limps forward and shoots the grapple, swinging himself home.

 He barely makes it through deactivating his security measures and stumbles through his window. Limping over to his sofa, Tim immediately collapses and passes out—still in gear.

==–==

 The next day, Marinette's halfway through patrol and already fairly banged up—with a particularly nasty headache among other things—when she spots that the window to Tim's Nest is open. She swings by to inspect and sees his handiwork on the deactivation of his security measures. She hums and glanced through the window to look inside, thinking, Probably nothing to worry abo—

 Tim's lying half on the sofa, covered in blood and muck. He's pale—paler than usual—and his hair is plastered to his forehead. Breathing laboured and nasally, and shaking like a leaf. He looks sick and injured and he's not even managed to switch into civvies before passing out—not good, really not good.

 Okay maybe definitely something to worry about. Marinette mentally amends, a spike of worry slamming itself into her chest. Especially since no one's talked to or heard from him since early patrol yesterday... She climbs through the open window, closing it behind her and then resecures the security measures.

 With a whispered “Tikki, spots off,” she drops her transformation and wobbly bolts to Tim's side. Checking his pulse and status. Too-quick heartbeat, infected lacerations to the arms, legs, and torso, bruised or maybe broken ribs—Marinette flinches and takes a second to calm herself down so she doesn't retch—bruising to the side of the head, and a ton of minor bumps, scratches, and grazes from the looks of things. She then checks his other symptoms: rapid and shallow breathing with occasional wheezing, high temperature, sweating and shivering—clammy.

 Marinette chews her lip, eyes watering. “Oh, Tim…” She shakes her head, heart-pounding, and whips out her phone, scrolling down to the contact with shaky hands. It rings twice then picks up. “Leslie?” She cuts in as soon as the call connects, shoving the phone between her ear and shoulder to free her hands. “I'm at Red Robin's place and he's hurt, really bad, I—” She breathes in before recounting all his injuries and symptoms. “He's unconscious, and I think he's either in septic shock or got pneumonia, maybe both…” As she's talking, Marinette grabs the nearest first aid kit she can find and goes about cleaning out and patching up the injuries she can with the equipment she has.

 “I'll be able to treat him at the cave. How quickly can you get there?” Leslie answers in a clipped but calm tone.

 “Uhh…” Marinette pauses both in speech and in movement, “We'll need someone to drive him there because I can't drive. I don't know who's close enough and can drive. I'll call B, O, or Agent A after this.” She continues to apply first aid.

 “I'll be at the cave in twenty-five minutes,” Leslie responds, cutting the call off not a second later.

 She grabs her phone from her precarious ear-to-shoulder position and scrolls to Agent A's number and it only takes him one ring to answer. “A.” Marinette pulls the same thing she did with Leslie's call, cutting in before the other can speak whilst putting it back between her ear and shoulder so she can continue applying minor treatment. She repeats the same thing she told Leslie. “I've also called Leslie, she's heading to the cave now, she said she'll be about twenty-five minutes.”

 She doesn't quite catch all of Alfred's response because Tim wakes with a groan and coughs, his pupils are blown and his gaze is worryingly blank—glazed over. Marinette thinks she hears something about the batmobile and three minutes but she's more worried that it looks like he's concussed as well. “Concussion. He's also got a concussion.” Marinette relays on autopilot, and maybe she hears Alfred inhale sharply but she can't tell. She's not sure when or if the call ends but she's too stressed to care.

 She's fumbling with the first aid and it takes every speck of focus she's got to make sure she isn't making him worse—next thing she knows Nightwing and Red Hood and jumping through the window (security deactivated and opened first, so no broken windows here).

 Red Hood pulls Marinette away from Tim, and Nightwing carefully scoops his little brother up. The world blurs around her and then her vision wavers, going completely colour blind as it goes fuzzy and dark at the edges, getting worse and worse. She thinks Red Hood's talking to her, he's gripping her arm rather tightly, almost painfully but it's giving her something to anchor on to… But it's not enough, her vision spins, going completely black, and distantly she hears panicked yelling and feels the world tipping to one side—

 ==–==

 The world slowly comes to and Marinette's feeling absolutely wretched. She's lying on a medical cot from what she can tell, but her mind's so fuzzy. She doesn't want to open her eyes. People are talking in hushed tones the distance. She thinks this isn't the first time she's woken up here since—

 She has vague memories of opening her eyes and people bustling in and out of view, asking questions and doing things. She doesn't remember much.

 Then she hears a voice closer to her, she can't remember whose voice it is but it's warm and rumbly but not too gruff—familiar. “Hey kid, you awake again?”

 Marinette groans in protest—she would rather not be awake right now.

 “Yeah, yeah, you're in pain, life sucks. I know.” The voice sounds amused.

 She huffs in indignation which only causes the voice to bark with laughter.

 The voice quietens down after a second. “You an' Timbo gave us quite the scare y'know. Don't think I've ever seen B that worried before, when we dragged the both of you to the Batmobile.”

 Marinette hums, unsure how else to respond.

 “You've got a concussion if you're wondering, you were lucky I was already holding you up when you fainted. Could've made your concussion worse if you had hit the ground instead.”

 She groans again, the mention of the concussion brings the full throbbing pain in the back of her skull back to her attention. She huffs again to express her displeasure at the voice reminding her.

 The voice snorts—probably at her pain like a sadist. “Timbo's fine, by the way, surgery went off without a hitch. Even woke up a few times, so if you're up and about the next time he wakes up you can help the others smother him with love and affection.”

 Marinette smiles lopsidedly. “Coo'.”

==–==

 Of course, the first thing she does once she's no longer bed-bound, and Tim's awake and somewhat healed, is take Jason's (it took her a while to recognise it was him who had been speaking to her) advice. In the form of her relentlessly hugging Tim like a clingy koala—much to his joy and begrudging dismay.

 “Mari… please.” Tim begs, staring at the ceiling as if it would somehow save him.

 If anything his words prompt her to hug him even tighter, “Nope! I will hug you for as long as I physically can.”

 In exasperation, he exclaims, “Mari, no!”

 “Mari, yes!” She shoots him a smug grin.

 “Mari please.” 

 “Tim, I will keep hugging you.” Marinette threatens

 “Mari, let go.” He says with no real intent behind his words.

 “No letting go! Only hugs or death!” She declares with an even smugger grin.

 He grins back then dramatically proclaims, “Guess I'll die then.”

 “No!” She half screeches, struggling to contain her giggles.

 “Oh no! I'm dying! Blargh!” He lays back down on the medical bed, pretending to die dramatically. “Marinette, as my dying words I must tell you that—that I—I—” He fake coughs and lets himself go limp.

 “Tim! Nooo! Clearly, the only way to save you from dying is to give you the magical fairytale kiss of life!” As soon as she says that, not giving him any time to react, she pecks him on the lips.

 “Wow, I'm alive again, what a miracle!”

==–==

 Around the corner, unbeknownst to the two, Jason eyes Dick with amusement. “You taking blackmail photos there, Dickiebird?”

 Dick makes an undignified squawking sound and nearly drops his phone. If not for his bat training, he definitely would have dropped it. Trying to pull off an air of nonchalance, he leans against. “Pfft! What are you talking about? Of course I'm not, I'm just collecting evidence that Timmy's okay. For uh Bruce and Alfred's sake. And the Teen Titans too, they've all been worried once they heard how bad he got.”

 Jason snorts. “"For evidence he's okay", sure you are.”

 Dick narrows his eyes. “If you tell anyone, I'll release all the cute photos I have of you when you were still wearing the Robin suit.”

 Jason gasps. “You wouldn't dare!”

 Dick grins. “Try me, Little Wing.”

 Raising his hands up, Jason backs away. “Fine! You win!”

==–==

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

@maribat-2k20

[temilyrights]

watching you, watching her (chapter one)

Jack Sloane x Reader

Word Count: 3647

A/N: This was originally going to be a song fic but it got away from me and now it’s going to have probably 4 chapters? >.< It’s inspired by the song ‘Watching You’ by Robinson (highly recommend). Just a warning this is gonna be an angsty as hell journey so prepare! Anyway, as always, feedback is always welcome :)

Read on AO3

Chapter Two

Your fingers dig into the porcelain tile as you try to stop yourself from hyperventilating. You rock gently back and forth, your eyes squeezed shut to protect yourself for the harsh light in Gibbs’ bathroom as tears slowly begin to roll down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it had been snapped in half and the laughter you could hear flowing from downstairs wasn’t helping. 

You hadn’t expected Jack to show up with her new girlfriend tonight and seeing Sarah hanging off Jack’s arm had done nothing but make your chest ache. 

You’d always thought, or maybe hoped, that you are Jack would eventually end up together. Nothing had changed between you, nothing anyone else could see anyway, but something was different. The looks a little shorter, the touches less often, the sparkle in her eye when she looked at you, gone. You’d spent a whole 2 weeks trying to work out what had changed and it wasn’t until Jack casually mentioned her new girlfriend that you’d finally understood. 

She just wasn’t interested anymore. You cried. A lot. That night and basically every night since. You continue to play the role of a happy, supportive friend but you begin to wonder if you made it all up, If the idea of you two had just been a delusion you’d fashioned in your head. You really weren’t sure anymore. 

When Jack had turned up tonight with Sarah your smile had dimmed and the excitement you’d felt at spending the evening with the team vanished. What made it worse was that Sarah was lovely and of course she was because how else would she earn the attention of Jacqueline Sloane. She had an instant banter with Gibbs, one that had taken you months on the team to be able to develop. Tim, Nick, and Ellie all seemed infatuated with her as she told stories about her job as a criminal lawyer, which really should have lost her a bit of respect! Gibbs literally had a rule against lawyers! She’d slotted into the group so easily you felt sick. 

You’d felt detached from the room as you couldn’t help but watch the soft touches between the two of them. The casual squeezing of each other's hands, the smiles across the room. You’d finally had enough when you walked into the kitchen to fill up your drink only to be faced with Jack and Sarah kissing. It was just a peck but you felt your heart snap at that moment, and you quickly turned out of the room unnoticed and made your way up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Which lead you to where you are now trying to get yourself together enough to calm the fuck down and enjoy this evening with your family. You wipe at your eyes, brushing away the evidence of tears as you take deep breaths in an attempt to keep yourself calm. You raise your head, looking at yourself in the mirror as your breath begins to even out. Get your shit together Y/N. You repeated it like a mantra in your head as you spare one final look at yourself to make sure you looked put together before making your way out of the bathroom and back downstairs. 

Everyone was sitting dotted around Gibbs’ table when you entered. You take the only free seat in between Ellie and Gibbs and happily accept the glass of Whiskey Gibbs passes to you. The poker game is set up but with Jack sitting directly opposite you, you know there’s no chance of you winning tonight, not when your eyes were flicking to her and Sarah every few minutes. 

“So Jack, how did you and Sarah meet?” Ellie pipes up from next to you, sending the two woman an affectionate smile as Jack turns to grin at Sarah. 

“She got lost in the courthouse and I helped her find the room she was looking for.” 

Sarah’s hand moves to link with Jack and you watch as she rubs soothing circles into Jack’s palm. Your hand tightens around the glass and you quickly avert your eyes, taking a large gulp of the alcohol and enjoying the burning sensation that shoots down your throat as Sarah speaks. 

“She saved me from being late to an important meeting and I couldn’t help but ask her out, not after she smiled at me like that.” Ellie awws as you resist the urge to throw up. You know the exact smile Sarah’s talking about though. The bright one that lights up the whole room but somehow still manages to feel like it’s only for you. She’s directing it at Sarah now and you feel the jealousy churn in your stomach. 

You’ve just finished the third round of the game and you haven’t even come close to winning, always folding early as you forget to pay attention to people’s reactions and generally having a mediocre hand. Sarah just won the round, pulling Jack into an excited kiss and you quickly but quietly get up from your seat, making sure to grab your empty whiskey glass as you head to the kitchen.

You pour yourself 2 fingers of whiskey, down it, and then immediately pour yourself another. You hear footsteps enter the kitchen and take a large swig of your drink before turning around. You resist the urge to roll your eyes when you notice it’s Sarah. “Y/N right? We weren’t really properly introduced.” 

You manage your business smile, it’s completely fake but convinces the woman in front of you. You extend your hand. “That’s right. Nice to meet you.” 

Sarah’s eyes are calculating as she subtly looks you over and your eyebrow raises in surprise, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Jack speaks about you a lot,” Your heart flutters, “She says you’re a really great friend.” The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ is unnecessary and you can see the warning in her eyes that makes your smile turn sour. Your eyes narrow as you stare at Sarah unsure what to say as the urge to fight and cry kicks in. 

You instead offer a pleasant smile. “Well, I’m glad.” You turn around, stopping to grab the bottle of whiskey off the counter and make your way back into the dining room. Everyone, including Jack, shoots you surprised looks as you down the rest of your glass and fill it up again. 

“Y/N’s in a party mood.” It’s Nick’s attempt to lighten the tension in the room at your gloomy mood and you manage a small smile, sinking back into your chair as conversation picks up around you. Sarah had followed behind you, making her way to sit back next to Jack. She watches you as she links hands with Jack and you make sure to keep your smile pleasant and happy. 

Cards are dished out and the next round begins. You fold pretty quickly, with the shit cards and Nick’s not so subtle smirk you know there’s no way you’re winning this round. “Not your night huh Y/N?” Jack’s eyes twinkle as she smirks.You have no idea. You roll your eyes, tongue sticking out playfully. Jack laughs but you notice the way her eyebrows furrow slightly and know she’s beginning to notice something is off. 

You’d usually put in more effort to hide it, but you were just so goddamn tired. 

You’re drinking too much too quickly. You know that and Gibbs and Ellie know that too if the looks they keep on shooting you are any idea. However, you don’t realise just how bad you are until you go to stand up and the room spins. No one notices apart from Ellie, they’re all too focused on the game. The concern in her face is clear and you sigh. “I need to go home.” You speak quietly and Ellie nods.

“I’ll drive you.” You don’t bother to argue. Waving goodbye to the team. Jack gets up from the table, following you as you make your way to the door. 

“Are you ok? I can take you home if you want?” Jack makes sure to be quiet as to not be heard by the others, her eyebrows are furrowed with concern.

“I’m okay, really. I just drank too much. And you’ve got Sarah, Ellie’s taking me home.” Jack looks like she wants to say something else as she bites her lip but she doesn’t, instead, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m here if you want to talk.” She whispers into your ear. Your eyes find Sarah against your will and you notice she’s watching the pair of you. You sigh and pull away, avoiding Sarah’s and Jack’s eyes. Jack returns to Sarah, with one last squeeze to your arm and a soft smile.

You can see Gibbs and Ellie speaking in hushed voices in the living room and you know it’s about you but you don’t care to listen already feeling the embarrassment from tonight catching up with you. 

Neither of you speaks for a while as Ellie drives through DC. “I’m sorry.” You finally say as you look at her. She flashes you a small smile before turning back to the road. 

“It’s ok.” It’s not. You know that. It was never fun being the person who has to look after the other person who got too drunk. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shrug as your eyes water and you quickly wipe away the tear that trails down your cheek, sniffing. “Gibbs didn’t know, otherwise he’d have told you beforehand.” 

You huff a watery laugh at that. “How long have you known?” 

“I didn’t, not for sure. Just the way you two look at each other sometimes, I thought there was something there?” The end turns into a question and Ellie spares you a glance. 

“I don’t know anymore. I thought so but now with Sarah, I’m not so sure…” You groan, slamming your head back into the seat. “I just need to get over these feelings. I’m normally better. Just meeting her tonight, unannounced and seeing how happy she made Jack, it was just a bit much.” You knew it wouldn’t be easy, you were pretty sure ‘feelings’ was too weak of a word now. Love seemed more likely but if you opened that door there was no going back. 

“It’ll be okay and I’m here for you if you ever want to talk.” Ellie offers a sad smile as she parks outside your apartment. 

“Thanks, Ellie. I’m really sorry about ruining your evening.” Ellie offers to walk you to your apartment but you wave her off. You stumble up the stairs and it takes you 3 tries to unlock the door. You don’t bother to turn on any lights as you lock the door behind you, dropping your bag, kicking your shoes off you stumble to your bed and allow the full weight of your emotions to engulf you as you cry yourself to sleep. 

You spend the weekend putting yourself back together and when you arrive to work Monday morning you don’t feel as fragile. “Morning guys.” You smile brightly as you make your way to your desk. “Good weekends?” 

Nick follows you to your desk, his face full of interest. “It was alright but it seems yours was good with that smile.” 

You make sure your smile stays in place as images of you sobbing wrapped in a blanket come to mind. You bat the thoughts away. “I had a realization that it’s time to move on from certain things in my life. Y/N 2.0 is out and she’s an optimist.” No one says it but you know they all know the ‘certain thing’ was Jack. 

“Well I think it’s a good thing, we should all try to be a little more positive.” Tim chirps in and you smile gratefully at him. 

After a couple of hours of being at work without seeing Jack, you head to her office. It’s nearing 12 pm and it’s almost unheard of for Jack not to have popped into the bullpen at least once. Her door is shut and you knock, only entering once you hear a muffled ‘come in!’. You’re surprised to find her aggressively throwing darts at the board. 

“I thought you said to never dart angry.” You quip, shutting the door behind you. Jack doesn’t falter as she continues.

“And when have I ever followed my own advice?”  

“Touché.” You walk over to the couch, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs underneath you. “Wanna talk about it?” You wait patiently as Jack continues to throw darts. After a few minutes, she sighs, dropping onto the couch next to you.  

“Sarah and I got into an argument last night.” You resist the urge to ground your teeth. “I got called in yesterday, another team needed evals done for a few suspects. I was meant to have plans with Sarah and when I told her I had to go to work she got mad and we’d ended up arguing.” 

“But she’s a lawyer? I thought she’d understand.” 

Jack huffs, shoving a frustrated hand through her hair. “Yeah me too. She said I don’t pay her enough attention.” 

“You’ve been together for what? A month? How much attention does she need?” Jealousy seeps into your voice but Jack’s too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice.

“I like her and I think we could have something really great together.” Jack sighs. You want to scream, tell Jack how she deserves better, someone who understands the job. Someone who cares as you do. You don’t say anything though, just smile and allow her to tell you about how she was so happy Sarah had fitted into the team so well. You feel the positive mindset you’d been gripping onto slowly drifting away bit by bit every time Sarah is mentioned. 

You’re emotionally exhausted by the time you get off the couch, slipping your shoes back on. “Thank you for listening.” 

“Anytime.” You offer a small smile and Jack pulls you into a tight hug. Your head rests against her shoulder and you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep your emotions at bay. When you pull away Jack’s got that megawatt smile on and it makes you want to cry because everything suddenly feels better again. 

----

It’s a couple of weeks later when you next see Sarah. “Hey Jack, Gibbs wants them evals-Oh I’m sorry!” Your face heats up as you take in the scene in front of you. Jack jumps away from where she’d had Sarah pinned between her body and the desk. Their lips were swollen from kisses and you can see remnants of Sarah’s lipstick around Jack’s mouth. You avert your eyes, swallowing roughly. “Uh, evals?” 

Jack clears her throat, jumping into action. Sarah doesn’t move from her spot resting on Jack’s desk and you avoid looking at her. “Here they are.” Jack holds the folders up in victory and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. 

“Thanks, Jack.” She doesn’t quite look you in the eyes when she passes you the file, and there’s a light blush across her cheeks. You clear your throat. “I’ll leave you too…” You don’t finish your sentence as you back out of the office. You’re just closing the door when you hear Sarah’s words. 

“Does she have a tendency to enter without knocking?” Your face scrunches up in annoyance and you roll your eyes.

“Y/N? I mean sometimes but-” 

“It’s rude. She shouldn’t just barge in-” 

Jack releases a withering sigh. “I don’t understand what your problem with her is, she’s my friend,” Sarah mutters something but you don’t catch it through the closed door. “I told you there’s nothing between her and me! There never has been and there never will be.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick as you stagger away from the door and down the hallway. There never has been and there never will be. Just further confirmation you’d really hallucinated everything between the two of you. You don’t understand how you’d been so careless to fall in love with her. You should have distanced yourself the second you’d become aware of your crush but instead, you’d fallen straight into it without thinking. 

You can’t concentrate for the rest of the day and It only takes a couple of hours for Gibbs to get frustrated with you. “Y/N!” He barks. You jump, as you turn to look at him and the rest of the team. You notice Tim holding out the remote to you and feel your face heat up in embarrassment when you realise you’d zoned out in the middle of an update. 

You barely get through it as your heart pounds in your chest and you feel tears building behind your eyes frustrated at yourself for being so distracted the whole day. When the team disperses Gibbs lightly grabs your arm, guiding you around the corner, behind the stairs, to give you both a semblance of privacy. “What's wrong?” 

You sniff, blinking quickly in an attempt to keep the tears back. It works but your voice cracks as you speak and Gibbs’ concern deepen. “N-nothing. I’m just tired.” 

“Maybe you should speak to Dr Grace or Jack-” 

“No!” Your protest is too quick and too loud and your fists tighten in frustration when understanding begins to seep into Gibbs’ face. “I-I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Your voice wobbles and you feel the tears threatening to break free as you squeeze your eyes shut. The tension drops from you as Gibbs’ hand rests on your shoulder and you release a deep sigh. “I’ll be okay. I promise.” 

“Go home. Come back once you’ve got your head on straight.” Despite Gibbs’ steely expression, you can pick out the different emotions in his eyes and you know he’s worried. This wasn’t like you. You never allowed stuff to distract you from your job even when something was troubling you. You’d always prided yourself on your ability to compartmentalise but when it came to Jack your brain just stopped cooperating.

“Ok.” Gibbs’ frown deepens when you don’t try to fight him but you simply don’t have the energy anymore. You feel everyone’s worried gazes as you silently pack up your stuff. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You try for a smile but your lips barely turn up. They all say goodbye and you make your way to the elevator. 

Jack’s standing in the elevator when the doors open and you hesitate before entering, flashing the blonde a small smile as you stand next to her. “Going home already?” Jack’s eyebrows are instantly furrowed in concern.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling so great.” You shrug, hoping she’ll drop the conversation, urging the elevator to descend faster but it seems to want to stop on every damn floor as people get on and off. 

“Are you sick? I’ll make you that soup I made you a while back, it always makes me feel better.” Your insides churn at Jack’s willingness to help you. That soup was glorious, Jack had made it for you a few months ago. She’d found you trying to pull yourself together in the bathroom of NCIS after a particularly trying case which ended badly. When she’d seen you she’d pulled you into a hug, muttering soothing words as you cried. She’d dragged you to her apartment, refusing to let you go home and wallow in pity. She’d made you soup and you’d chatted the whole evening and it had honestly been the best evening you’d had in a long time. You miss it. 

“Oh, don’t bother. I think I’m just tired. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Jack’s concern deepens and she reaches out tugging your arm slightly so you’ll turn to face her. 

“Are you ok? You know I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I’m fine, really.” Your smile is wobbly but before Jack can protest the elevator doors are finally opening on the ground floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hurry out of the elevator and quickly make your exit from the building to the safety of your car. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut as you hit your steering wheel in frustration. 

----

She’s in the bullpen when you arrive to work the next morning, resting against your desk. You make your way over and she extends a cup of coffee to you. “What’s this for?” You ask sceptically, as you take a sip and move to sit down. 

Jack smiles but concern shines in her eyes. “Just a pick-me-up, I wanted to make sure you were ok after yesterday.” 

You can’t help the smile that comes to your face. “Well, thank you but I really am fine.” Jack’s smile is soft as she reaches out and places her hand over yours. You can’t help but stare at the hand in shock, as you swallow roughly. She rubs soft smoothing circles and you look back up to her in question.

“Just remember I’m here, okay?” You nod and Jack’s hand leaves yours as she pushes herself up from the desk and makes her way up to her office. You watch her as she leaves and can’t stop smiling. 

“Was that Jack?” Nick asks as he gets off the elevator, catching sight of the blonde passing MTAC. “I’ve been meaning to ask her if she can get Sarah to forward me that cold case.” And just like that, you’re crashing back to reality. Your smile falls away and the warmth in your chest freezes. She has a girlfriend. You hate how the woman could smile at you, touch your hand and suddenly everything felt good again and you were flying on cloud 9 but then you’d suddenly be reminded of Sarah and you’d curse your heart as it shattered again.

[clintbartonswife]

breathe pt2 (Steve Rogers x You)

Warnings: angst, description of injuries/blood 

(kinda) requested by @vesta-ro and @officialmarvelwhore || masterlist

Previously: He started compressions on your chest, his eyes watching your closed ones as he did so.

“Come on babygirl - breathe for me. Please breathe”

“Steve-“

“NO! She’s going to be fine - she just needs to breathe!” He shouted, tears filling his eyes as he continued CPR, your body unresponsive.

“Steve” Natasha insisted, her hands moving to his shoulders, pulling him back slightly, “Steve she’s gone”

“No!” Steve fought half-heartedly against her hold, crumpling into himself as he finally realised the truth, “no”

“She died thinking I hated her”

“Why did you stop!?”

Steve’s head whipped around, spotting Bruce hobbling over with a medical kit, his messy appearance proving he had just ‘calmed down’.

“Dont stop CPR! She’s probably gone into shock!”

Steve stood frozen as Nat leapt forward, immediately restarting compressions whilst swearing strongly in Russian. Tony rushed over to Bruce, slinging his arm around his shoulders to help him walk quicker. Watching with tear-blurred vision as they crowded around your body, it took everything in him to stay standing. After a quick scuffle, Steve heard the words that sent him crumbling to the ground.

“Shit Nat dont stop, theres a pulse - barely - but its there”

“Слава Богу” Nat whispered, “when do I know to stop?”

“When she shows signs of consciousness, if you’re getting tired Tony can step in-” “no. I’m doing this” she said sternly, her eyes locked on to her hands as she continued CPR.

“We need to try and get her back to the jet - Steve? Steve!”

Bruce’s harsh voice cut through Steve’s stupor, the super soldier turning his attention to the doctor.

“I need you to get the stretcher from the jet”

“yea - I can do that” he nodded, sprinting over to the jet, his legs moving as fast as they could carry him. 

As soon as he was gone, Bruce ripped the bottom half of your tshirt off to try and get a better visual on the wound.

“Holy fuck” Tony gasped, staring at the gaping hole going through your stomach, “exit wound?”

Bruce just nodded, as he began to stuff the hole with sterile mesh.

“Whats that for?”

“To try and stop the blood until we can get her back to Dr Cho” Bruce said, his eyes darting around every now and then, “where the hell is Steve”

Tony made a quick call to the doctor, making sure she’d be there ready for whe they got back.

Steve returned a few moments later, stretcher tucked under his arm.

“We need to get her on there without banging her around too much”

“let me” Steve said shakily, kneeling by your side.

“Okay Nat stop compressions when I tell you to, you’ve got to move her immediately Steve. When she’s on Nat will have to get on as well so you can continue compressions. Everyone else will have to help lift and carry the stretcher back to the jet. 3, 2, 1″

Steve’s arms wrapped gently around your body as he carefully moved you onto the stretcher, everyone following instructions, and soon enough you had been placed down in the quinjet.

Bruce immediately sprang back into action, plugging your body into all the machines available, moving around Natasha who was still steadily pressing down on your chest. Tony lead Steve away to the front of the quinjet, trying to console the soldier as they went.

“Nat stop” 

The Russian looked at him in confusion, swiftly moving her hands away.

“Her eyes fluttered. She’s coming back into consciousness”

You could feel pain, mind-numbing pain, emitting from your stomach as you came to. A small groan escaped your lips as you moved to stretch, your body jolting at the burst of pain from the miniscule action.

“Fuck me” you whined, squinting your eyes at the bright light above you, “am I dead yet? This bloody hurts”

“сука! Dont do that again!”

you quirked a brow at the redhead in front of you, “Im sorry Nat. I’ll really try not to get shot next time. I thought it would be fun”

She just rolled her watery eyes, a small smile taking hold of her lips.

“I think she’s fine Bruce” Nat laughed, “her humours back for sure”

You turned your head to look at bruce, reaching towards him with your hand. He understood, holding your hand tightly.

“Thanks Bruce”

“No problem”

“Hey Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Clint about this”

“Wha- you’re thinking about this now? You were almost killed and your seriously worried about a bet!?”

“Hey! He won last time and there’s no way in hell im gonna give him the satisfaction of winning again. Besides, he gets shot all the time! You’ll probably only have to wait a few days”

As the two of you bickered, Bruce slipped away, approaching Steve and Tony with a small smile.

“Is she awake? Bruce?” 

Steve was desperate, his eyes wild as he grabbed the doctor’s arms, “is she okay?!”

“She’ll be fine as long as we get to Cho quickly, the main thing is that she’s breathing on her own and her heart beat seems steady”

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Steve nodded his head in thanks before storming to the back of the quinjet where you lay on the gurney, Natasha making a hasty exit.

“You almost died -”

“Hey Cap -”

The two of you spoke at the same time, your tone significantly lighter than his.

“This isn't a joke (y/n)! I thought - I thought you had died and I -”

Eyebrows pulling together in a frown, you rested your hand over his gently, avoiding his eyes as he looked at you in shock. The two of you hadn't touched since … then.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily Cap”

“Its Steve” he mumbled, almost incoherently, hating the way the title sounded so impersonal on your lips, “you always call me Steve”

“I didn't think I had the right to anymore, what with you with Sharon now. That makes you my mission Captain. Nothing more” you spat out bitterly, pulling your hand back and wincing at the pain the slight movement caused you.

“That's not fair -”

“Isn't it? Youre Captain Fucking America. You get to keep the team, I've tried to back away and let you have your space, I really have. Not that anyone seemed to notice” you chuckled mirthlessly, “I'm not stupid enough to believe that what we had would've lasted Cap. In the end, youre a national treasure - you could get anyone you want - and I'm just me. It was only a matter of time til you got bored, guess it was just quicker than I had hoped”

“Could you shut up for one second! I overreacted that night! I admit what I said was wrong but I can assure you that there's nothing going on between me and Sharon and there never will be even if I tried because I cant fucking get you out of my head!”

The silence that fell was deafening, air thick with tension.

“I could never get bored of you” Steve eventually sighed, running his fingers through his hair, “I know I said horrible things but I didn't mean them - I know that doesn't stand for much, but … Look. I love you (y/n) and I don't think I’ll ever stop”

With that he stood up and walked away to the front of the quinjet without a second glance, leaving you with a racing heart and watering eyes.

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Слава Богу = thank god           сука! = bitch