#see i was JUST about to tell him how i felt (maybe)

[navybrat817]

Love drunk Bucky! What about a drunk reader?

Yes, we've seen drunk!Bucky in Pretty Girl. A drunk reader could be fun.

Your Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You're very vocal about wanting Bucky Barnes.

Word Count: Over 1.7k

Warnings: Drunk reader with no filter, drunk confession, dirty talk, humor, slight feels, talk of consent and communication, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Raw. Next question.”

You sipped your drink, the room going eerily silent. It was the quietest it had been since everyone gathered in the lounge for some drinks hours ago. Pairs of eyes stared at you with a mix of fascination and shock as your words hung in the air.

Just moments ago, Clint had been going through his phone and showing everyone candid photos he managed to snap of everyone. Most of them were hilarious, but the most recent one wasn't hilarious at all. It was clearly hot based on your reaction.

“What did she say?” Steve whispered to break the silence.

“You heard what she said. Everyone heard it,” Sam whispered back, giving you a quizzical stare. “How many drinks have you had?”

You held up a finger followed by another couple. “Like this many. And water. Hydration is so important.”

“Hold on. Back to what you said a second ago.” Clint turned the phone toward him with a raised brow and slowly turned it back toward you so you could see it again. “You know that’s a picture of Barnes, right? Not some model or actor?” he asked.

Bucky Barnes, the beefy super soldier who was trying not to shatter the bottle in his metal hand as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes. Clint managed to snap a photo of him when he removed his shirt after a recent workout, which begged the question of why he was taking the photo to begin with. Bucky wasn’t looking at the camera since his eyes were shut, but his parted mouth, slightly messy hair, and sweat shining off his torso made him look like a thirst trap. The sweatpants only made the picture that much hotter.

“Yeah, I know. He’s hot. We all know he’s hot,” you shrugged. “And I said what I said.”

Bucky audibly exhaled. You had a penchant for being very honest with the team which they appreciated. If someone asked for your opinion or thoughts on something you didn’t hide how you felt. You were careful not to be cruel if you disagreed with anyone, but you still led with honesty. Alcohol didn’t change that.

So, if you said you thought Bucky was hot and you wanted him to fuck you raw, you meant it.

Clint exchanged a quick glance with Natasha before the redhead nodded to the spot beside you. The spy looked like she was having a hard time not smiling. “And you know he’s sitting next to you, right?” she asked.

You downed the rest of your drink and shrugged again. “Yeah, I know. And I’d let him fuck me raw. Every day. Twice on Sundays,” you said unapologetically as Steve coughed. You swung your head toward Bucky with a sultry smile and leaned in a little closer. He smelled your perfume before you sat down tonight, but now the sweet smell combined with your natural scent was making him dizzy. “You’d fuck me raw, right? Maybe fuck me from behind so you can get nice and deep.”

The bottle shattered which only made you smile more. Bucky’s nostrils flared and everyone backed up a few inches, except for you, the newest member of the team. The person who loved to leave little treats and snacks for him to make sure he ate throughout the day. The same person who made a show of bending over and stretching in front of him whenever you two worked out together. The only one who seemed to get a real smile out of him since you showed up like a shining beacon of happiness and sass.

And now you were telling him you want him to fuck you. Raw. He thought about it, of course- how wet and snug you’d feel around his bare cock, how you’d take him like a good girl. He pictured you sobbing his name and squirming as he pinned you down and brought you over the edge again and again. Licking his lips, he imagined the taste of your arousal on his tongue and wondered if he could make you squirt. He sure as hell wanted to try.

Bucky heard Thor’s footsteps, but didn’t take his eyes off you as the God of Thunder took a seat. “Clearly, I’ve missed something.”

“I said I want Bucky to fuck me raw,” you said without missing a beat.

Bucky bit back a groan. He was two seconds away from throwing you over his shoulder like a caveman and taking you away from everyone. There were so many filthy things he wanted to say and do to you…

And your bluntness didn’t seem to bother the blonde. “I thought you two were already having relations. With how close you two-”

“I’m sorry. Did you just say ‘relations’?” Clint asked. “Relations.”

“Is that not what they’re discussing?” Thor asked, taking a sip from his flask. “Though if there is no protection there is the risk of procreating, but they would have beautiful offspring.”

You leaned in a bit closer, but Bucky gripped your arms to move you away from his spot. “I don't want the glass to cut you.”

“You're so thoughtful. And amazing,” you smiled. He adored your smile. “And if a breeding kink is what you’re into, actually breeding me or not, I’m all for it. I’m wet just thinking about it.”

Thor laughed and held up his flask. “That’s the spirit.”

Bucky’s cock twitched in his pants. “I know you’re wet. I can smell it,” he all but growled. He inhaled so deeply he could actually taste it, and he wanted more. And if he could smell it, Steve could smell it.

“Okay then.” Clint removed his hearing aid. “I think I’m done.”

Steve jumped up when his best friend glared at him. “I think I’m done, too,” he said, not wanting to face Bucky’s wrath even though it wasn’t his fault he also had heightened senses.

“Let’s go, boys. I think these two should talk without us,” Natasha suggested, hauling Sam up by the arm and giving both of you a wink. “Be good, okay?”

“No promises,” you replied in a sing-song voice.

“Shouldn’t they get a room? I’m just saying,” Sam said as Natasha dragged him away.

“Breed her well, Barnes. Make us proud!” Thor shouted. Steve hauled him from the room, too, with Clint hot on their tail.

“Alone at last,” you giggled. If you were at all embarrassed, it didn’t show. And now that the two of you were alone, the tension skyrocketed. “You know, this isn't how I pictured saying any of this, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” he said. He couldn't believe you wanted him, but you did.

“I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or weird. I’d never want that.”

“That’s the last thing I feel,” he exhaled, still gripping your arms when you finally moved into his lap and straddled him.

“Good,” you smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

As much as he wanted to feel your lips against his, he stopped you. And as much as he wanted to tear your leggings away and have you then and there, but he couldn’t. “I’m not fucking you. Not tonight.”

The playfulness slipped from your eyes. So did the smile from your face. “Oh. I thought…” you breathed, looking away and quickly blinking. God, he hoped there weren’t tears in your eyes. “You don’t actually want me, do you?”

Bucky hadn’t meant for his words or stopping the kiss to come across as rejection, but that was exactly what happened. “That’s not–”

“Oh, my God. I ruined everything, didn't I? Why did I open my mouth?” You sniffled and tried to move away, but he wouldn't let you. “Six months of friendship and crushing on you and I-”

“Hey. You didn't ruin a thing.” Bucky gripped your chin with tenderness he didn’t think he was capable of anymore, and his heart broke when he saw the tears swimming in your beautiful eyes. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life,” he admitted, brushing a tear away that fell. “But you’ve been drinking, and that means you can’t fully consent, and I will not take advantage of you, no matter how you say you want me or this. I respect and care for you too much for that.”

HYDRA took consent away from Bucky for a long time, and it was one of the worst feelings in the world. He’d hate himself for doing anything with you without your full consent. He wouldn’t be the kind of man who did that. The man you deserved would be the one who properly took care of you in and out of bed.

And he’d be the best man for you if you let him.

“So, you do want me?” you asked, your voice uncertain.

“I did say more than anyone else, and I meant it,” he replied. You had to believe him. “But our first time should happen when you're sober.”

However you wanted your first time to be, he'd make it happen. He'd make love to you or fuck you or both. As long as there was clear consent and communication, he’d give you everything you needed and more, and he knew you'd do the same for him.

The smile you gave him repaired the cracks in his heart. “You’re a good guy, Bucky,” you said, snuggling against him. “And it isn’t just sex I want, but, well, I do want to have sex with you.”

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled and rested his chin on your head. “And I know. It isn't just sex I want either.”

Bucky wanted to take you to bed, but he also wanted to take you out on dates. He wanted to make you laugh and smile, wipe your tears and comfort you when you cried, and be the one you confided in. He wanted to be your man, and he wanted you to be his best girl.

“I wanna be yours,” you sighed as if you read his mind, his heart skipping a beat. “Can I be your girl?”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes when he kissed the top of your head. “You can be my girl.”

And tomorrow once you were sober, he’d officially ask you to be his girl.

Happy Moanday, lovelies! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[muwapsturniolo]

Grabbers ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི M Sturniolo

“I forgot I had plans, streams over. Bye.”

Masturbation(f), uhhh sex tape? Idk I can’t think of what the actual name is but yall better yuh like Ariana!

this for my bae @leoslaboratory cause i owe her a matt fic. also cred to @bernardsbendystraws for the divider!!!!

Matt loved to spoil you.

He loved to pamper you, constantly sending you money so you could keep up with your quote-on-quote “high-maintenance lifestyle”.

He had no issues with it, why would he? He knew you could afford it and that you never would ask him for anything.

He just loved how good you felt and looked after getting your hair done, your lashes done, a facial, and your nails and .

You were already beautiful, he made sure to tell you that often, but it was something about seeing you look so fresh that just made him feel good.

So when he sent you money telling you to "go get your nails and toes done", you thought nothing of it. You went ahead and called your usual nail girl, hoping she could fit you in.

Luckily for you, she could. She also had a recommendation for you as well.

Matt was streaming when you sent him a picture of your nails, he couldn’t help but smile, ignoring the chat as they questioned why he was geekin’ at his phone.

However, what he didn’t expect was for you to send a video. Maybe you had gotten crystals on your nails and you wanted him to see them glimmer in the light- but something told him otherwise.

He was curious to say the least, the thumbnail of the video being your face with a rather seductive smile.

He decided to proceed with caution, not saying a word and simply muting his mic. He clicks on the video and his eyes widen.

It starts off with you smiling into the camera, slowly trailing your new nails down to your bare breast. His eyes nervously dart toward the monitor before looking back at the phone just in time to see you tweak at your pierced nipples.

You eventually move the phone down lower, showing off the rest of your naked body.

He knows the stream is curious about what he’s watching, he knows he’s probably red in the face - he just doesn’t care.

His eyes analyze the screen as you spread your plump thighs, your hand immediately going in between your legs and towards your pulsating heat.

He feels disappointment as the video ends, hoping he would actually get to see you touch yourself. However, his disappointment is long forgotten when he sees a new video pop up. With hasty fingers, he clicks on it and feels the air being knocked out of his lungs.

You had managed to prop your phone up between your legs, giving him a perfect view of your glistening cunt. He could feel his pants tighten as your hand came into view, the new nails adding a certain je ne sais quoi to the video.

It’s like he was in a trance, his eyes following the movement of your fingers as you drew circles against your clit. Your moans were just as captivating as your hand movements, the way you moaned his name causing a shiver to run up his spine.

“Matt what the fuck are you doing bro?”

He ignored Chris’s voice, keeping his eyes and ears on the risqué video of you.

He could hear the lewd squelching of your juices, the wet sound making him wish it was his own fingers or even his mouth making you feel this good.

His mouth parts slightly watching as your favorite dildo comes into view.

It was a mold of his dick, made in pink.

“Fuck-“ he mutters just as you push the dildo into your aching hole, your moans only getting louder. He couldn’t see, he could only imagine the way your eyes rolled back and your lips parted.

His eyes focus on the white ring already forming at the base of the dildo. God, how he wishes it was him.

He could tell you were close, the way you sped up the pumping of the dildo, your other hand stuttering against your clit.

“Oh fuck! Shit, Matt Matt Ma-“

It’s like the odds were against him, your orgasm hitting you full throttle and making your foot knock over your phone, causing him to miss his favorite part.

He curses to himself, now frustrated sexually.

Without thinking too much about it, he unmutes his mic, his jaw clenched and voice strained.

“I forgot I had plans, streams over. Bye.”

He doesn’t waste a second in jumping up and grabbing his things, darting out of his room and out of the house. He hears his brothers shouting for him, but he only has one thing on his mind and it’s you.

He arrives at your house in no time, barging through the front door and rushing to your room. As he enters, he sees you already kneeling on your bed, looking at him innocently.

He quickly approaches, cupping your face in his hands.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?” You smile at him, already starting to palm him through the material of his pants.

“I just wanted to thank you for my new nails…do you like them?”

He shudders softly as you snake your hand down his pants, wrapping it around his dick and stroking softly.

“Course I do sweetheart. I really like the ‘m’, it was a nice touch.”

“Yeah? A nice touch?” You begin to pull his pants down, eager to satisfy him and show him how grateful you are.

“Mhm, such a nice touch.” Silence follows as he wraps a hand around his own dick and pushes your head towards his angry red tip.

“Use your hands too. Wanna see the nails I paid for put to good use.”

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - TWELVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of severe anemia; pregnancy; abortion

💌MASTERLIST

Rafe rolled over, squinting against the sunlight breaking through the shitty broken blinds he'd meant to replace weeks ago. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and before his eyes were even fully open, he swiped it up.

"Yeah?" His voice was a low growl, all gravel, and irritation.

The voice on the other end was professional. "Mr. Cameron? We’re calling to follow up on your father’s properties. There are a few—"

Fuck off.

Rafe cut them off with a sharp exhale, rubbing his temples.

He didn’t let them finish. "Yeah, I know what you’re calling about. I’m not dealing with that right now, okay? Call someone else."

"Sir, you are listed as—"

"I said call someone else," He snapped, hanging up before they could launch into another scripted response. He tossed the phone onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling, breathing hard.

It had been months since Ward died, and somehow, his name was heavier now than it ever was when he was alive. Everyone wanted something—answers, signatures, money. All things Rafe didn’t have or didn’t care to deal with.

The phone buzzed again. He grabbed it, ready to tell whoever it was where to stick their questions, but it was just a reminder about his plans with Topper. For half a second, he considered texting back: Can’t make it. Something came up.

But he doesn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he shoved himself upright, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and dropping his head into his hands.

The dream the call robbed him of was still vivid. For a moment, he forgot where he was—his room felt colder, and emptier, and the bed might as well have been a mile wide.

In the dream, you were eighteen again, and so was he. Back when things were simpler—or maybe just felt that way. Back before he’d ruined everything.

He could see it so clearly: the two of you sneaking out of some party you didn’t want to be at, your hand locked in his as you ducked through the dark streets. You’d been laughing, trying to shush him because he couldn’t stop cracking dumb jokes.

You ended up at the dock by your uncle’s boat. The stars were out, scattered across the sky like a million little promises. He remembered how you’d sat cross-legged on the wooden planks, your hair falling into your face as you smiled at him like he was the only person in the world.

The dock, your laugh, the stars—those were the good parts. But he remembers what you were going through back then, and it hit him all over again.

You’d just lost everything—your parents, your sister, gone in an instant. The private plane went down, and so did the life you’d always known. He remembers the way you’d talk about them—your family—late at night when it was just the two of you. Your voice would crack, and your eyes would shine with unshed tears, but you’d talk anyway. About your dad teaching you how to sail, your mom’s tenderness, the way your sister used to be your role model.

He hadn’t thought about those nights in years, but now they come rushing back, all tangled up with the dream. He still wasn’t strong enough for you back then. He let his own shit get in the way, let his insecurities and his anger twist everything good between you over the years. And when he walked away, he left you to deal with the wreckage of your life and his own cowardice.

He threw on a shirt, and some old shorts, didn’t even bother fixing his hair. No one was going to care—not like anyone was looking to him for anything these days anyway. He stomped down the stairs, rubbing at the back of his neck, pretending like he didn’t spend the night dreaming of your face. 

Wheezie was at the kitchen counter, cereal in front of her, scrolling her phone.

She didn’t glance up when she heard him, "You look like shit."

Aw, nothing like a teenager. 

"Good mornin’ to you too," Rafe grumbled, heading for the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap like it had personally offended him, “You’re really settling in, huh?"

Wheezie snorted, not looking up from her phone. "Rose stuck me here with you. What else am I supposed to do? I’m just trying to survive." 

“It’s two days."

He hadn’t exactly planned on babysitting Wheezie while Rose was out of the country, he hadn’t planned on much lately

"Two days too many," she shot back, smirking. "You going somewhere?" 

Rafe slammed the fridge shut, twisting the cap off his water.

"Why are you stomping around like that?" 

"Not fuckin’ stomping," Rafe muttered, leaning against the counter.

"You are," she scowled, shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "You sound like a baby elephant."

Rafe glared at her, but she just shrugged, unfazed. "You’re up early. What’s the occasion?"

"Just woke up, okay?" he snapped.

"Jeez, someone’s in a mood," Wheezie rolled her eyes. "What’s your deal?"

"No deal." He took a long sip of water, staring out the window.

"Can you drop me off later?" she changed the topic, her tone too casual to be innocent.

Rafe side-eyed her. "Drop you off where?"

"Poguelandia.”

His hand froze halfway to the trash can. "You’re kiddin’."

"Nope," Wheezie said, popping the “p.” She didn’t even look at him, scrolling on her phone like this was just a normal request.

"You know Sarah’s there, right?"

"Yeah, that’s kinda the point," Wheezie finally met his glare. "She texted me. Wants to hang out."

Rafe scoffed, tossing the empty water bottle into the trash. "Since when are you and Sarah talkin’?"

"Since forever," Wheezie pursed her lips, "Just because you two can’t stand each other doesn’t mean I can’t hang out with her. Also," She adds, "there’s a party happening later. Like, nothing crazy, but… y’know."

He hadn’t been around much for his little sister lately—shit, not for a long time, if he was honest with himself. After their dad died, he kind of just… checked out. Too much of his own crap to deal with. But Wheezie didn’t ask for any of that.

"Nothing crazy," Rafe repeated flatly, his arms crossed.

"Relaxxxx,” She shoved another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "Just drop me off. I’ll figure out a ride back."

He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "Wheeze, do you even know what you’re walking into? Pogues don’t fuck with us."

"I wonder why….” She hummed, waving him off. “I’ll be fine, they don’t hate me."

"Yeah, well, they hate me."

"Good thing I’m not you.” Wheezie fired back, hopping off the stool.

Yeah, good thing.

"And it’s not just a party. I’m visiting Sarah, too."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Rafe rolled his eyes, "Here’s the deal: I’ll drop you off—"

She perked up, her face lighting with hope.

"—but on one condition," he cut in, smirking just enough to make her suspicious.

He hadn’t really spent time with her in ages—not since Ward died. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just…easier not to. Easier to stay away, to let the silence pile up.

The real issue was that, for the longest time, he’s been gone for a reason. He didn’t want to be here. It was easier to be numb by being drunk or high. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his sister—it was just that it was too painful, and complicated.

Yesterday, his therapist had told him to invest time in his sisters. To be there for them, to reconnect, because they were his only real family left. Whezzie he could do, Sarah? 

Only time would tell. 

You have to show up for the people you love. Even if it scares you.

It scared the shit out of him, honestly.

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"You come with me and Topper on the boat first," he said, folding his arms tighter like he’s already won.

Wheezie groaned, slumping back in her chair. "Seriously? What part of not showing up on a yatch is this?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Why? So I can sit there and listen to you two talk about girls you’ll never get and beer brands you can’t pronounce?"

Rafe glared at her. "It’s not up for debate. You wanna go to fuckass poguelandia? You’re comin’ with us. End of story."

At least he was trying—trying to do something for her, to make up for the time he’d lost, the ways he’d been absent or worse. Even if he still sounded like an asshole most of the time.

"Fine. Whatever. I’ll go with you and Topper. But you owe me big time.”

The whole idea of being present was terrifying, it ruined him when he was a teenager, but he couldn’t keep hiding from it. There was nothing left to hide behind.

“I’ll buy that stupid cereal you like.”

"Lucky me."

"Alright, smartass," He grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee, trying to ignore her smug look. "What do you even eat besides cereal? You’re gonna starve or some shit.”

"I’ll survive. You, on the other hand…" she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his unkempt pantry. "You look like you could use a babysitter."

Rafe let the corners of his mouth twitch. "You’re an asshole, y'know that?"

“You’re my brother, what did you expect?”

It was just the two of them in his big, empty condo. He might not have been much of a role model—or even a decent older brother—but for the next two days, he could try.

“You’re the worst,” she grumbled, grabbing her phone off the counter.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Rafe said dismissively, turning toward the door. “Be ready in ten.”

Wheezie, rolling her eyes so hard he thought they might fall out of her head, stomped back upstairs, probably to change into something less “little sister on a boat” and more “teen rebel” or whatever the fuck kid’s liked these days. She could dress however she wanted as long as she didn’t make him regret dragging her into this.

Rafe leaned against the truck while he waited for his sister. His arms were crossed, his fingers drumming against his bicep in a nervous rhythm. It wasn’t about the boat—he didn’t even know why he’d suggested it. Maybe it was just an excuse to keep her close for a little longer before dropping her into pogue territory. He missed her.

An hour later, he was pulling the truck into the dock’s gravel lot, the tires crunching as he rolled to a stop. Topper was already there, lounging on the boat, a beer in one hand and sunglasses perched low on his nose.

Wheezie hopped out of the truck before Rafe even had a chance to cut the engine. “God, does he ever not look like a wannabe country club poster boy?”

Rafe smirked as he climbed out.

“Rafe! Wheezie!” Topper called out, spreading his arms wide like he was greeting royalty. “What’s up, losers?”

Wheezie snorted, marching toward the boat. “Nice shorts. Did Vineyard Vines have a clearance sale, or did you just raid your dad’s closet?”

“Stop being ruthless,” Topper glanced down at his pastel pink swim trunks, feigning offense. “These are a classic.”

“A classic embarrassment,” she fake gagged, stepping onto the boat.

Rafe followed her, shaking his head. “Play nice.”

“Fantastic,” Topper drawled, “There’s two of you today.”

“You make it too easy.” Whezzie dropped onto one of the cushioned seats and leaned back, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes. “What’s the plan, Captain Douchebag?”

Topper raised his beer in a mock toast. “The plan is sailing.”

“Wow. Revolutionary.”

Rafe chuckled, untying the boat and giving it a shove off the dock. “Just sit back and relax, Wheez. We’ll drop you off later.”

Topper’s head snaps up, “Drop her off where?”

"Where do you think?" Rafe leaned over to check the boat's engine. He didn't bother looking at Topper, already waiting for the inevitable reaction, “Sarah's.”

"Wait, wait, wait," Topper held up a hand like he was stopping traffic. "You're taking her to Poguelandia? Are you out of your mind?"

"It's not your problem," Rafe grumbled, starting the engine. The low hum drowned out part of Topper's rant, but not enough to miss the gist.

"Not my problem? Dude, the second you step foot over there, it's everyone's problem. She’s there too, y’know? Stopped by earlier to make peace…She changed her gate’s code. And the lock.”

The gate code. The lock.

He couldn’t get it out of his head.

For years, it had been the same—just like the keys he used to have to your place. Just days ago, the gate had swung open just like it always did, the same code he’d memorized like it was second nature.

You hadn’t changed the code, hadn’t swapped the locks. He’d half convinced himself it meant something, maybe you weren’t ready to fully let him go, either.

Rafe’s hands stilled on the throttle. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his jaw tightened all the same. Topper, of course, noticed immediately.

"See? This is what I’m talking about," Topper leaned back in his seat, spreading his arms like he was laying out some grand revelation. "Where do you think she’s staying at? It’s fuckin’ obvious. We show up, and it’s gonna stir shit up.”

It was almost like you’d left the door cracked open for him. Just enough to make him believe there was still a chance. Now he wasn’t so sure. Had his visit been the final straw? Had the sight of him standing on the other side of your door—looking desperate and pathetic—been the thing that made you decide to shut him out completely?

You didn’t let him in, but you’d opened up the door. After everything he’d put you through, it was your way of protecting yourself. Shutting the door so he couldn’t come crashing back in.

Topper’s voice snapped him back to reality, “You even listening to me, man?”

Rafe blinked, forcing himself to re-focus on the boat’s controls.

“Yeah. I heard you. ’m not staying. Just dropping her off."

“We’re dead meat.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Topper knew better than to keep talking, the conversation ended there.

For the next twenty minutes, the boat cruised over the water, Rafe kept on steering, letting Topper and Wheezie chatter away behind him. He wasn't really listening—hadn't been for most of the trip—but every now and then, Wheezie's laughter or Topper's exaggerated storytelling pulled him back just enough to remind him they were still there.

When they finally dropped anchor near the sandbar, Topper leaned back, cracking open another beer as he stretched out under the sun.

"Alrigh’, who wants to make a toast? First outing of the month, gotta celebrate properly!"

Rafe shook his head, pulling a bottle of water from the cooler instead. He twisted off the cap and took a long sip, ignoring the way Topper raised a brow at him.

"Wait a second," Topper said, sitting up slightly. "You're not drinking?"

The fact his best friend sounded surprised was reason enough to stay sober. He didn’t like being scrutinized.

"Nah," He waived off, leaning back against the seat and letting the sun warm his face.

He’d made the choice not to drink before they even left the dock, but it didn’t stop the instinct—the small urge to crack open a beer and let the eventual numbness take over like it usually did.

Topper looked between the beer in his hand and Rafe, "You serious? Could've told me, wouldn’t have brought all this shit."

“Yeah, sure you wouldn’t have.”

"Fair," Topper admitted, "Still, man. That's… good. Like, really good."

Wheezie, who had been scrolling on her phone, perked up at the exchange. "Yeah, Rafe. I think it's awesome."

Proud. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said that to him. Maybe you, but it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him and seen something worth being proud of.

He shrugged, “It’s not a big deal.”

But it kind of was. Because sitting there, sober and fully present for the first time in months, he realized it didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would. He’d been drinking non-stop—first to deal with his dad’s death, then to quiet the guilt, and then to forget you.

The therapist had called it “self-medicating.” Rafe had scoffed when she first said it, she didn’t know what she was talking about, but the longer the sessions went on, the harder it was to deny. Drinking had become a way to drown out the memories and feelings he didn’t know how to face. 

The therapist had suggested he take a break from drinking, just for a while. “You don’t have to stop forever,” she’d said. “Just give yourself a chance to feel what’s really going on.”

Yeah, because that sounded like fucking fun. Sitting with his feelings. 

But something about today felt different. He couldn’t explain it—maybe it was Wheezie’s not hating spending time with him after all the stunts he pulled, or the way Topper had thrown himself into planning this trip like he was trying to cheer him up—but for once, he didn’t feel like drowning himself in alcohol.

It wasn’t like drinking had helped anyway, if anything, it made it worse. The mornings after, when the hangover hit and he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, let alone call you to apologize for everything he’d done wrong. 

So, yeah. Maybe the therapist had a point. 

He glanced at the cooler full of beers and liquor that Topper had dragged aboard. “Don’t feel like it today.”

Topper was still eyeing him like he was an alien, while Wheezie had gone back to scrolling her phone, but every now and then, she'd glance up at him, like she was checking to see if he was still there—if he was still him.

"Alright, enough of the sentimental shit," Topper declared, "Let’s make this a proper day. Who’s up for some wakeboarding?"

Wheezie groaned, flopping back dramatically. "You two are so predictable. Wakeboarding, really? What’s next, golf? A steak dinner? Gonna break out the cigars and talk about how much you cripto?"

Rafe snorted, tossing a towel at her. "Wheez, you screamed your head off last time you tried it."

“Yeah, because I nearly died!" she threw the towel right back at him.

"You were fine.”

“You said I was fine while I was choking on lake water.”

Rafe smirked, standing up to adjust the rope for the wakeboard. “Builds character.”

“Builds trauma,” she retorted, kicking her flip-flops off and stretching her legs out over the seat. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when I’m suing your ass.”

“Good luck with that.”

She tilted her chin up with a satisfied grin, “I can now, thank you very much. I’m an adult.”

“You turned eighteen two weeks ago. Chill with the big-girl talk.”

Topper cracked up from the other side of the boat, pointing his beer at her like it was a microphone. “She’s got you there, big bro. Maybe let her drive the boat next.”

Wheezie perked up instantly. “Wait, can I?”

“No,” Rafe deadpanned.

“Why not?” she whined, her entire body deflating.

“Because last time you tried, you almost ran over a dock,” Rafe tugged the line to make sure it was secure.

“Okay, that was one time, and I was learning,” Wheezie argued. “You’ve done way dumber stuff.”

Topper leaned over, watching the exchange like it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week. “This is amazing. You guys should fight more often.”

“Shut up,” Rafe and Wheezie said in unison, which only made Topper laugh harder.

The afternoon passed quickly, filled with sun, water, and Wheezie’s relentless commentary. She refused to try wakeboarding again, opting instead to sunbathe and heckle them from the safety of the boat. Rafe couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her laugh so much—or the last time he’d felt this calm.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the water in shades of gold, Rafe slowed the boat to a gentle drift. Wheezie was sprawled out with her headphones in, her phone propped up on her stomach. Topper had passed out in the corner, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. Rafe sat at the helm, one hand resting on the wheel, the other dangling over the side. The cool water lapped at his fingertips, calming him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

For once, he wasn’t thinking about the mistakes he’d made or the people he’d lost. He wasn’t drowning in guilt or regret. He was just… there, present. It didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would

Rafe cut the engine as the boat drifted closer to the dock. The sight of Sarah’s house on the Cut came into view. It wasn’t a kook mansion or some pristine estate—just a house that Sarah and her friends had claimed for herself.

The second the boat bumped against the dock, Wheezie sprang up, tugging her bag over her shoulder. Rafe was quick to follow, throwing the rope around a cleat to tie them off.

“You’re not getting off, are you?” Wheezie asked, looking over her shoulder with her brows furrowed.

Rafe stepped off the boat, sneakers hitting the creaky dock with a purpose. She rolled her eyes when she realized he wasn’t staying behind like she hoped.

“You don’t need to come,” she grumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I do,” Rafe said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not letting you walk in there alone.”

“She’s our sister, not some random stranger,” Wheezie stomped down the dock.

She might as well have been.

Rafe grabbed the bag she was struggling with and followed her toward the weathered building at the end of the pier. Sarah’s place wasn’t just a house; it was a business. A small café-slash-bait shop that catered to the locals. The painted sign hanging over the front door read Cut Cafe in faded lettering, with a little drawing of a fish under it. 

He hated it.

Not because it wasn’t nice, but because it wasn’t theirs. It was Sarah’s—a piece of her new life that had nothing to do with him or Wheezie or anything resembling their family. Another reminder of how far he hadn’t gone.

If he was being honest—something he rarely let himself do—he missed her. Not the Sarah she was now, but the sister she used to be, before the huge fights, before she looked at him like he was some kind of monster. Before Ward.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Ward had made sure Rafe would never get to have what Sarah did. She was the golden child, Dad’s favorite. And Rafe—he was just there, a constant disappointment.

It wasn’t that he hated her; it was that he hated what she represented.

Approval he’d never get, a life he wasn’t good enough for.

It was ironic, really. He used to resent Sarah for being Ward’s favorite.

Now he resented her for being yours.

Rafe scowled as the sound of the party reached his ears, even from the dock. Music thumped loud enough to vibrate the air, shouted conversations, and the occasional crash of something—probably a bottle—shattering.

Someone let out a loud whoop, followed by the unmistakable sound of people chanting for a keg stand. Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience thinning with every passing second. He wasn’t in the mood for this juvenile shit.

“You're way too comfortable here,” he scoffed under his breath as Wheezie marched ahead, her steps confident. It pissed him off more than it should have.

“Maybe because Sarah doesn’t treat me like I’m still twelve,” Wheezie shot back, smirking at him over her shoulder.

Rafe ignored the jab, his eyes scanning the small crowd outside.

A couple of Pogues lingered near the porch, laughing over beers and baskets of fries. Their relaxed, judgmental stares followed him like they could smell the kook entitlement on him from a mile away. He bristled, tightening his grip on Wheezie’s bag.

She bounded up the steps and pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling. He hesitated for half a second before following her inside, knowing he was going to regret ever stepping foot in this place.

The air smelled like beer, fried food, and sunscreen. Behind the counter, Sarah stood with her back to them, her hair tied up in a loose bun.

Wheezie cleared her throat loudly. “Hey, Sar!”

Sarah turned, her smile faltering the second she saw Rafe lurking behind Wheezie. Her expression hardened. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too,” Rafe said dryly, crossing his arms.

“I told Wheezie to come by. Not you.” Sarah’s eyes flicked to Wheezie, softening just slightly. “You didn’t need to bring a bodyguard.”

“I wasn’t gonna let her wander around here by herself,” Rafe shot back, his voice low and defensive. He hated the way Sarah’s words hurt, hated that her disapproval still got under his skin after all this time.

Sarah rolled her eyes, wiping her hands on her apron as she stepped out from behind the counter. “Wander? She’s not a toddler. She knows how to get here. It’s safe.”

Wheezie stood between them, looking like she was torn between laughing and rolling her eyes so hard she might fall over. “Okay, can you two stop? It’s embarrassing.”

Sarah sighed, brushing past Rafe as if he wasn’t even there.

“Whatever. You can go now. Wheezie’s fine here.”

He stood awkwardly near the door, arms crossed, glaring at the locals who cast curious glances his way. It wasn’t worth staying.

Wheezie was safe.

Sarah would make sure of that, whether she hated him or not.

With a sigh, hr pushed open the door and stepped back out onto the porch, letting the door slam behind him. He took a deep breath of salty air, rubbing the back of his neck.

He’d barely made it to the dock when he spotted someone climbing off the boat—

“Dude,” Rafe’s brow furrowed as his friend stepped onto the creaking wood. “Thought you were scared shitless of this place.”

“I’m not scared,” Topper lied through his teeth.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, “Right.”

“We ran out of snacks on the boat, and I’m starving, figured I’d raid the stash at the party.”

“Snacks?”

“I’m starving!” Topper argued, throwing his hands up. “And unless you brought a secret bag of chips somewhere, this is my best shot!”

He sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do to change Topper's mind. “Hurry up.”

“Relax, I’ll be two minutes!"

He watched Topper jog away, sighing and leaning against one of the wooden posts. 

You were probably in there, somewhere. Laughing, maybe, or smiling that smile he used to wake up to, a smile that used to be for him.

Now, it was for everyone but him.

He tried not to think about you, but that was like telling the ocean not to rise and fall with the stupid tides. Therapy had taught him to sit with his feelings, to not let them rot into something worse, but he was just starting and you weren’t just the girl he loved.

You were the only person who had ever seen him for more than his name, his mistakes, or the wreckage Ward Cameron had left in his wake. You didn’t just tolerate him; you chose him, since day one.

He didn’t deserve you, not then, not even now. 

The sound of footsteps broke his focus.

“About time,” Rafe muttered, turning. But it wasn’t Topper.

Sofia stumbled into view, her dark hair wild and face flushed. Her hand gripped the railing for support as she swayed slightly.

He frowned, mildly concerned, “What the f—are you okay?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and frantic. “Y-You need to go get Topper. Right n-now.”

His first thought was that she might’ve come here to throw some drunken, slurred insults his way.

The last time they'd spoken, things had ended...He didn’t even know how to classify that mess. But it didn't look like she was there to slam him with any guilt-trips or hurtful words.

She just looked scared.

“What?” His brows knit together as he stepped toward her, “What are you talking about? Are you drunk?”

Sofia waved him off, her breathing panicked. “The T-thorntons.”

That stopped him cold.

“What about them?”

She tried to grab his arm, her eyes wide, “They’re fighting. It’s bad.”

“Fighting?”

It couldn't be just some random fight; this had everything to do with the bullshit Topper had pulled.

Shit.

Rafe wasn’t even sure if he could fix it. Could he? You hated him too, and no matter how hard he tried, it seemed like you’d never forgive him for everything he’d fucked up. But Topper—Rafe didn’t even have to think twice.

He knew you, how you were when you’d had enough. You weren’t the type to lose your shit unless it was really bad.

He gritted his teeth, knowing full well that when you finally let it out, it was never just a “throw a drink and move on” kind of thing. Nah, when you lost it, it was like you’d been holding all this shit in for way too long and finally decided you weren’t gonna take it anymore.

He knew exactly what you were pissed about.

Topper. Of course. And him. Fuck.

He hated it.

The way your voice would rise when you finally let everything out.

You weren’t someone who yelled, but when you did? Jesus fucking Christ, it hit different. Rafe could never prepare himself fully for that kind of fury, especially when it was aimed at him. 

He hated seeing you like this, especially when he knew it was because of him. But it was his fault, wasn’t it?

Rafe’s thoughts were a mess as he followed Sofia, who was clearly way over tipsy, stumbling a little, but she was still trying to explain, voice slurring a bit from the alcohol.

“You gotta understand—she was helping me. I wasn’t feeling so great, right? M-my head was spinning, I don’t know… I just needed a little space. But then Topper walked in and he...S-she just lost it.”

He wasn’t even surprised when she mentioned that you’d been helping her out. Of course you would.

You always had that side to you. Even when you were pissed, even when you hated people, you couldn’t help but step in when someone was in need. You hated Sofia, and everyone knew it. You hated the fact that she’d come around right after he’d fucked everything up with you. You hated how fast she seemed to take your place, even though Rafe didn’t want to admit it to himself either.

Still, there you were, trying to make sure Sofia was okay, again. It made him feel like shit. Not just because you were still holding it together when he couldn’t, but because he knew the whole fucking reason you probably didn’t want anything to do with Sofia—because of how it’d felt when he’d jumped into something else so quickly, so recklessly, after breaking your heart.

The sound of raised voices reached him before he even saw you. He could hear the anger in your voice. There was no mistaking it: you were pissed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you this way, and it fucked with his gut. You didn’t lose control easily. You never let anyone see the mess, the shit you were going through.

Now you were ripping into Topper in a way that made his blood run cold. He rounded the corner and saw you, hands flailing, and he couldn’t help but wonder: When was the last time anyone stepped up for you? It certainly hadn’t been him. Not the way he should’ve.

And then, of course, there was Topper. He could see the look on his face—guilt, embarrassment. But it wasn’t going to be enough. You had to work through it yourself.

Your shoulders were tense, the way you stood, like you could snap anyone who walked through that door in half if they so much as blinked the wrong way, was all too familiar.

Your cousin was standing in front of you, trying to apologize like it was gonna fix anything, but you weren’t hearing it. No, you were done with that shit.

Topper wipped his hands down his ruined shirt, green smears of guacamole spreading across the fabric. “I fucked up.”

“No shit,” you hissed, “You don’t get to come back from this. You have no idea how fucking sick I am of you—” Hands shaking as you shoved him back, your words coming out in short bursts, "You're the fucking worst. How could you—"

You were about to throw something—probably another drink—when your eyes snapped over to Rafe.

For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw your breath hitch. You froze, eyes wide for a second, and then your expression soured.

Your lip quivered before you sucked in a breath and squared your shoulders.

"Not you too,” you sneered, throwing your hands in the air as the world had just dropped another pile of shit on your already full plate. “Oh my fucking god, seriously?"

Your face was flushed with anger, lips twisted in a snarl. You were so fucking beautiful, even when you were fuming. He could see the fire in your eyes, that same spark he’d fallen for all those years ago. You were just... you. And it was killing him.

He was so fucked. 

“All of you—” You spit out, “I should’ve known better. I did know better, but I was stupid. So fucking stupid.”

He couldn’t think straight when you looked at him like that, when you had that look in your eyes. Even in the middle of a fight, it was so goddamn hard to look away.

You weren’t just a memory to him anymore. You were right in front of him, and he couldn’t even breathe straight.

Rafe’s throat tightened, feeling something that wasn’t just anger or regret or confusion. He felt longing. He longed to hear your voice, all the time, longed for those mornings when you’d be pressed against him, all warm, the world outside his shitty room irrelevant.

He missed the simple stuff.

He missed your face, the way you’d look at him with that irritation and affection.

It hit him harder than anything had in months—how much time had passed since he last saw that pretty face smile at him like you used to. Since he last kissed your forehead while you fell asleep next to him, since you last fit so perfectly into his arms that he didn’t want to let go.

He didn’t even know how to start getting that back.

He left. Over and over again.

Rafe registered another drink splashing across Topper’s face a little too late, the sound of the liquid hitting his skin pulling him out of his trance. He blinked a few times, the moment dragging back to the mess in front of him.

You weren’t done, though, as if throwing the drink wasn’t enough, you whipped a bowl of guacamole from the table and hurled it at Topper’s face. It splattered across his shirt, leaving a sticky, green mess in its wake.

He didn’t even flinch, still apologizing, still taking it.

“Sis—”

“I don’t want some bullshit excuse! You were supposed to be my family. You were supposed to—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head because you couldn’t fathom finishing the thought.

And then—slap, slap, slap—you were hitting his arms, frustration flashing across your face as you let him have it. 

Your cousin stood there like a fucking idiot, wiping guac off his face, trying to stammer out some kind of half-assed apology. 

“You had no right,” you spat, voice breaking on the words. “None. You don’t just walk in here and act like everything’s fine after what you—” your words choked in your throat. You threw another plate, “You had no right!”

Rafe saw it all, saw the tears ready to spill as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. You weren’t crying yet, but he knew that was about to change. And when it did, it was going to hurt worse than the yelling, worse than the throwing.

Before you could even get another word out, Rafe was there, stepping in between you and Topper, his body tense, preparing himself for something, maybe a few slaps across the face, a drink if you felt generous. You didn’t have to say a word, he could sense it in the way your lips quivered, the way your shoulders shook.

“You need to calm down,” He told you tenderly, though it wasn’t a demand—it was more of a desperate plea.

You didn’t listen.

Instead, you shoved him out of the way, the tears starting to slip down your cheeks, but you didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

“Get out,” you snapped, "Move.”

Rafe didn’t budge, he was here for you, he never stopped fucking choosing you even when he had no right to. He remained still, staring down at you with those blue eyes that had always known you better than anyone.

“Fuck, not like this,” Rafe muttered under his breath, stepping forward once more, this time blocking your path before you could reach Topper again. His hands were gentle on your shoulders as he held you back, “Please, stop.”

You froze, eyes wide, like you couldn’t believe it—you hadn’t been expecting him to step in, hadn’t been expecting him of all people to be the one to try and talk you out of it. 

Rafe’s heart dropped when he saw the way your body was starting to shake. You were spiraling, he could see it coming—he'd been here before. The way your breath hitched, how your eyes turned glassy.

He still knew the signs all too well.

His hands shot out instinctively, grabbing your arms, trying to hold you still, "Hey, hey, calm down," he muttered, his voice soothing, "You're gonna make yourself worse if you don’t stop."

He could feel the rapid pulse under your skin, the way your body tensed like a coiled spring, and he didn’t give a fuck that you still hated him. 

"Look at me," he coaxed, "Please, just breathe with me. You know this ain't gonna help. You gotta breathe."

Rafe’s heart broke all over again as you crumbled in front of him, damn it, he should’ve been there. He should’ve been there when this all fell apart, when you needed someone to hold you together instead of pushing you away.

He hated seeing you like this.

"I’m right here," he said again, softer this time, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Topper stood there, eyes wide, not sure what to do, his face pale as he watched you fall apart in front of Rafe.

Sofia, still drunk and disoriented, caught the look in his eyes and quietly grabbed his arm, “We need to go," she whispered, nudging him, "T-this isn’t helping her."

Topper’s eyes moved to you, and then to Rafe, you could see it in his expression—the guilt, the regret. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Rafe shot him a look, one that said everything—get out.

Your cousin, wiped his face before he took a few steps back. "I’m sorry," he muttered, eyes darting between you and Rafe.  "I’m so sorry.”

He turned away like a dog with his tail between his legs, Sofia following him without saying much, leaving you.

Rafe barely paid them any mind, his entire focus on you, his hands still holding yours, as he watched you try to calm your breathing.

He pulled you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered again, "Not going anywhere. I’m here, swear to God, I’m here."

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him fully, not caring if he was blocking the view of anyone else, not caring if things were a fucking mess—he only cared about getting you back to yourself.

He could feel it in his chest, every shitty thing that had piled up, every moment no one had your back when you needed it most.

You didn’t pull away. Maybe it was the anger finally burning out or the exhaustion catching up to you, but for a moment, you let him hold you. Your chest heaved as you fought for control, but your weight sagged against his hands.

His hands loosened their grip, his thumb brushing against your arm without him even realizing it. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to risk letting go because God knew if he’d ever get this close to you again.

You’re safe. You’re okay. I’ve got you. 

He didn’t deserve it—not even a little, but he couldn’t let go, you needed someone, even if it wasn’t really him you wanted anymore. 

Rafe could sense the way your breathing came out as almost pants against his chest. Every little tremor sent a pang through his chest, like someone had grabbed his ribs and squeezed until it hurt to breathe.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he fought harder? 

Rafe rested his cheek against your hair, closing his eyes as he let himself feel it—the weight of you leaning on him. The smell of your perfume, faint but still the same as always. He felt like a fucking thief, stealing this moment from you when he had no right. You didn’t want this from him, didn’t need this from him.

He wished he could take it all back, erase every mistake, the fight, every stupid decision that had pushed you to this point. If he could trade places with you, take all the pain and carry it himself, he would. In a heartbeat. 

You took one shuddering breath, then another. It was enough for him to feel like maybe he’d done something right for once. Maybe he could—

“Get your hands off me.”

Rafe barely moved. His grip slackened, but he didn’t let go, didn’t step away like you wanted.

You pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “I said get your fucking hands off me.”

“Not happenin’,” He swallowed hard, his pulse thrumming against his throat, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “You’re not okay.”

 “Go fuck yourself. You don’t get to decide that—”

Your voice cracked, and the sound of it nearly knocked the will to live from his body. He’d always known your tells, had always been able to read you better than you liked.

Rafe’s hands twitched, and then he moved them, moving like he was about to let you go—but then you did it.

You curled your arms around yourself, your fingers gripping the fabric of your dress, right over your stomach. Protective.

Fuck.

Could it be? It was an unconscious gesture, you probably didn’t realize you’d made, but to him, it might as well have been a fucking confession.

Rafe felt his body lock up, every muscle going rigid as the pieces fell into place. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Topper was right, wasn't he?

His throat went dry, he managed to croak out, “You’re—”

“No,” you snapped immediately, your fingers tightening on your dress, but you wouldn’t look at him.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t need you.”

He knew he was losing you.

Rafe exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

“Fuck you. You don’t get to— say shit like that. You don’t get to—” Your breathing hitched, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek.

“To what? To give a shit?”

He waited, watching, hoping, praying—please look at me, baby, please—but you didn’t move.

You scoffed, a bitter sound.

“You don’t care. You just don’t like the idea of—” Your breath caught, but you swallowed it down, pushing past the lump in your throat. “You don’t like the idea of me making a choice that doesn’t involve you.”

He hadn’t breathed properly since he saw your hands gripping your stomach, hiding yourself from him like you thought he was something to be afraid of. Like you thought he wouldn’t love you.

You thought he wouldn’t fucking stay.

“I love you.”

He barely recognized his own voice when he said it, but it was the only thing he could spill out. He swore to God he saw your left eye twitch at the confession, he knew what came next, but he’d never been good at shutting up when he should when it came to you.

“I do,” he insisted, “And I know I don’t—I don’t deserve to say that. I don’t deserve to expect anything from you.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “But I need you to know it.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so bad.”

You turned your head to the side, blinking up at the ceiling, refusing to spare him a glance. “I don’t want you to fix it.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “I know, but I can’t—I can’t just let you go through this alone.”

Your chest rose and fell too quickly, your breath uneven, but still—you stood your ground. “I don’t need you.”

“Please don’t say that,” he nearly dropped to his knees. “Please.”

You looked at him, since he’d realized what this meant, you lifted your head, met his gaze—really met it.

And shit—It nearly destroyed him, because he knew that look.

“Where the fuck were you, Rafe? Kissing her two months after we ended? Huh—” Your breath shuddered, and you shook your head, stepping back, “You didn’t even wait. You just—just moved the fuck on like I never even mattered—”

“It wasn’t like that—”

"Did you fuck her?" Your lips curled into a faux smile. "That’s what I thought."

"No,” He added quickly, shaking his head like the thought alone disgusted him, "No, I didn’t."

You chuckled disbelieving. "Don’t lie to me."

"I’m not," he said, stepping closer despite the way your body went rigid. "I didn’t touch her like that. I swear to God."

"But you wanted to, right?"

His head moved so fast it gave him whiplash, "No. The only person I’ve ever wanted is you.”

You scoffed, “That’s real sweet, real fucking poetic.”

“I let my own shit get in the way, and I hurt you. But I swear to God, I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“That supposed to make me feel better? You fucked off to play house with some other girl,” You swallowed hard, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Why were you there with her? Why did you let me think—"

"Because I’m a fucking assshole," he admitted, "I was trying to forget you, okay? But I couldn’t. No matter what I did, it was always you."

“Fuck you.” You snickered. “Where were you when I finally got my internship? The one I worked for, the one I wanted so bad?” You shook your head, “You didn’t even text me. Not once.”

His throat was tight, his pulse hammering, because he had thought about it—so many times, so many nights staring at his phone, fingers hovering, but he hadn’t.

Rafe’s heart plummeted.

“I—”

“You what? You forgot?”

His nails bit into his palms, “I—”

“You don’t get to speak,” you seethed, you eyes burning through him. “You don’t get to fucking say you care when you weren’t there, when you didn’t even fucking check if I was okay.

"I'm sorry."

"Where the fuck were you,” you whispered, voice shaking with grief, “when I found out I was pregnant with your fucking kid?”

Rafe froze, his stomach jumped around, violently, his ears started ringing. His brain short-circuited, his lungs forgot how to take in air, his heart fucking stopped.

Pregnant.

Pregnant. With his—

“Oh, right.” Your laugh was venomous, “You showed up at my charity gala.” You licked your lips, shaking your head, “Defending her.”

He never felt so completely useless, completely fucking helpless while you stood in front of him, looking up at him like you hated him.

“I—” He started, but nothing came out. “You—”

There was nothing to fucking say, you were right, he had failed you.

You weren’t telling him this so he could weigh in or because you wanted him to be a part of it. You were telling him so he’d know, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings, so he wouldn’t ever think, even for a second, that there was still a version of this where he got to be a part of it.

“How long?” The words were hoarse, hardly audible.

Your lips curled in disgust, arms crossing tight over your chest. “Like you fucking care.”

He did, he did care.

So fucking much that he thought he might fucking die under the weight of it. Except the realization hit him just as quickly—he didn’t get to stand here, wide-eyed and breathless and shocked like this wasn’t the natural conclusion to the shitshow of mistakes he’d made.

“Don’t fucking stand there and act like this is some big revelation. You didn’t spend the last months with your tongue down someone else’s throat while I was home—sick, alone—wondering how the fuck I was supposed to do this without you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, pressing your knuckles to your lips to stop them from shaking.

His gut twisted.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Jesus Christ, he’d been so fucking stupid.

“I don’t need you. I never did.”

It was a lie, maybe you even believed it.

But Rafe knew you, understood how hard it was for you to ask for help. Knew how much it had hurt to stand in front of him, admitting the truth. And Rafe—he needed to fix this. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

“I should’ve been there.”

“Yeah? No shit.”

Rafe felt his ribs caving in. “I’m here now.”

“That’s not good enough.”

It was a death sentence, it was fair but fuck, he couldn’t accept it.

Rafe stepped closer.

You took a step back.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he swore, desperate. “I don’t care if you fucking hate me, don’t care if you never forgive me.” His throat worked around the lump in it. “I’m here.”

You were so fucking angry. So fucking hurt. He didn’t blame you for it. But if he didn’t try, if he didn’t fucking show you—prove to you that he was here now—then he’d never forgive himself.

“You think I’m gonna just forgive you for this?” you sneered, arms folded tightly over your chest. “Just because you’re here now, just because you say the words that mean nothing—that’s enough? After everything? After all of it?”

All he could do was look at you—look at the person he had ruined, the person he had loved, and still loved, more than anything. 

“I just—” He sucked in a breath, running a hand through his growing hair. “Tell me about the baby.”

Your expression faltered before you hardened again, lips pressing into a thin line.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Bullshit.” His voice broke. “Don’t do that—don’t shut me out. Is it... a boy? A girl?”

You hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Why does it matter?”

“Don’t—don’t keep me in the dark, please. You’ve felt them move?” 

You looked down at your feet. “No.” 

"Did you—uh—" He rubbed the back of his neck, nerves raw. "Do you have morning sickness? I read that happens early on, right?"

You blinked, "What?"

"Like... throwing up and all that? You okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned, but it only made your head spin.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Can we drop it?”

It’s then he remembers the beach cleanup, the memories of that afternoon colliding all at once—the way you’d collapsed into him, pale and unresponsive. The panic that gripped his chest as he carried you to the truck. The fight during the drive, when you told him to leave, your refusal to let him come inside.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“You were…” He pratically gasped, “You were pregnant. At the beach cleanup.”

You stiffened, already dreading where he was going with this.

“Don’t.”

His pulse raced, “That’s why you didn’t want me to come inside the hospital, wasn’t it?” His words spilled out, “You were scared they’d tell me. Holy shit.”

“Stop,” you snapped, but he couldn’t.

“You passed out because of—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. “Jesus Christ.”

“I said stop.”

He couldn’t unsee it now—couldn’t unfeel your dead weight on his arms. He’d been right there, clueless, driving you to the hospital while you were carrying his baby. And instead of being there for you, he’d made everything worse.

“I didn’t know,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“Exactly.” Your voice was cold, “You didn’t know because you weren’t there.”

He was going to have to spend that entire fucking inheritance fortune on therapy

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[404creep]

Y'all were eating up my Simon x civilian cleaner drabble, so I decided to add some more on it!

Previous Part Next Part Series Masterlist

In the last one I said that you just accept him following you around like a creep because he gives you scary dog privileges, but that wasn't an immediate thing.

Early on when you first caught his attention there were many young cadets that had the unfortunate timing of trying to flirt with you when he'd show up for his daily fix.

Safe to say those poor cadets would end up running laps until they were sick.

One had the nerve to try and get your number while Simon was watching and he became the volunteer (victim) for Simon's next hand to hand combat training dimenstration.

The whole thing just literally ended up as more work for you because you had to mop up the blood

He felt so bad :(

Never wants to make more work for you

One time, a comms tech wasn't looking where he was going and ended up bumping into you in the hall while you were sweeping and spilled his coffee all over the floor and a little on you

Literally started screaming about YOU needing to watch where YOU were going and about how you're just a cleaner and you're easily replaceable and all that.

You're biting your tongue because you need this job, but damn if the coffee soaking your shirt didn't hurt.

Simon, however, is PISSED.

How dare that little shit stain talk down to HIS bird????? And he didn't even have the decency to ask if you were okay????

Marched right over and pulled that little dickhead away from you. Made him clean up his mess and then Simon contacted his direct supervisor about the little shit making a hostile work environment and harassing civilians.

Dude got put on probation

You warm up to Ghost after that.

He may be a weird little stalker, but at least he had your back

Safe to say after that event EVERYONE on base knew to stay away from Simon's little cleaning lady unless they wanted to face his wrath.

Johnny is tickled pink by it when he finds out

Soap will hover around you now too, asking you stupid questions about your life and telling you dumb jokes while side eyeing Ghost looking like the cat that ate the canary.

Johnny is nice enough but you long for the days when you could do your work in silence.

Ghost also misses the time when you worked in silence because he's never wanted to punch Johnny in the face more than when he interrupts your guys' quality time

Now onto the kid

The first time Simon sees you go pick up the toddler from the base daycare he almost cries

Convinced you're married or have a man at home looking after you and his little fantasy shatters. He'd never seen a ring on your finger so he assumed you were single but maybe you took it off when you were at work???

He basically goes into mourning

He's in a horrible mood for a while after that and it drives the 141 a bit crazy.

He refuses to go watch you after that, because he doesn't wanna step on any toes but he misses you :(

You notice the absence and honesty kind of miss your shadow :(

Johnny finally can't take it and casually asks one day if you got a mister at home

You say no and explain that you take care of your sisters kid.

Johnny basically skips to Simon to give him the good news.

After that your shadow is back and he's even moved a bit closer to you.

You're happy to see him back honestly

Meanwhile Simon is thinking of all the ways he can sweep you off your feet. His poor bird has so much going on in her personal life, he needs to take care of her.

Starts leaving little treats in your locker

You know who they're from

[terrestrialnoob]

Can I write more? Physically? Probably. Write angst? I had a bad day, so I don't think I have that in me at the moment. Have some hope, motherfucker.

John was going to kill himself for real this time. He'd summoned a teenager! Not a protector spirit who looked like a teen to get people to trust him, not a trickster spirit who looked like a teen to get people to underestimate him, but the actual ghost of a teenager who probably hadn't died that long ago given the outfit he was in. He'd summoned a kid and ordered him to fight a god. John just killed another kid.

John could feel it. The magical contract wrapped around his heart as thick as it had wrapped around Phantom and through it he felt Phantom failing to keep his end of the contract and fading from existence. There was a flash of light and John was certain he'd see the chain fall to dust, still visible and solid since the ghost king wanted John to watch as Pariah crushed a child in his hands. But it didn't.

"What's this!" Pariah suddenly shouted and John looked to see - everyone was back! John looked and saw Wonder Woman with Fright Knight tied up in her magic lasso under her foot and his sword held high above her head, glowing with energy as she released everyone it had touched. Phantom had distracted Pariah enough for Diana to beat Fright Knight!

Pariah snarled at her and, thank the stars, threw Phantom aside to pick up his sword and fight the entire Justice League. Sure, some of their returned team mates looked worse for wear, but with them back and the Fright Knight handled, it wasn't hopeless. Not for them anyway.

John wasn't paying much attention to the fight other than to get soldiers out of his way and stay out of the way of the big hitters now that they were back. He got to the rubble Phantom had made with that screaming attack of his. The ground was unstable and whatever buildings stood around him wouldn't be standing for long. He followed the softly glowing chain that was quickly dimming. He wasn't sure if that's because Pariah wasn't powering it anymore or if it was because Phantom was...

The chain vanished and left John frantically looking around for the spirit. He couldn't see him or sense him or... John felt his throat close up and his tongue go heavy. As he tried to push the burning of tears from his eyes, he caught sight of something. He stumbled around the ruins and found someone. Short and thin, wearing torn up jeans and someone had written "Fenterd Stinks" on the back of their white shirt in marker.

They looked like a civilian. Civilian's shouldn't have been there, they'd been evacuated hours ago, and no one would have been stupid enough to stick around after the Justice League got there. Even the paparazzi had fucked off to safety.

But as John got closer he could slowly start to feel it. Something was off about them. It was him, it was Phantom! John could sense it was him. He could feel the spirit hiding inside... no that wasn't right, this was something else. He had the same face in different colors, maybe rounder ears and not as many visible freckles, but it was the same and John could figure it out later.

John pressed his hand into the kid's neck and found a painfully slow pulse, his breathing was shallow and harsh. "Alright kid, new deal." John said and re-positioned the kid in his arms. "If you die, I die too. But if you live, you tell me how you beat this guy last time and let me take care of the rest."

John moved his hand slightly, making Phantom - or at least the body he was in - nod in agreement. John waited, and as death didn't over take him, he sighed in relief. This was salvageable.

After another moment, the kid opened his eyes and looked dazed. "What happ-"

"Hey kid, sorry, but we're still in the middle of things." John said, trying to sound urgent but not scare the kid. It didn't work. His eyes went wide and his body went tense. "How was Pariah beat before?"

The kid swallowed and his voice was scratchy. "I - I had a battle suit, my parents made it, and it gave whoever was inside it a hundred times more power, but it drained them like a battery. I was able to get Pariah back in his Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, but I - I almost died. The suit almost killed me."

"Alright." John nodded and sighed to reset his thoughts. "First thing's first, get you to safety."

Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!

I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.

But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.

Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.

Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!

And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.

But then he tries to leave.

Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.

Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.

Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.

But either way, it doesnt work.

He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.

Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.

He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.

Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.

He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.

And he is trapped.

And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.

After hes been more or less kidnapped.

He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.

And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).

but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!

Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!

He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!

He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.

Most importantly, he knows their goals

But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.

And has no idea what they want

And Danny just freezes up

This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.

You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue

I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat

Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.

And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.

I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”

JL would not be happy about any of his responses.

Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day

[littlelamy]

can you do something with rafe and insecure!reader like about her body. he gets mad when he sees the scale is out and stuff like that etc

lamy's notes: i hope you like it!

the scale was out again. rafe stood in the doorway, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he watched you step off it, your shoulders slumping as though the little screen had just hurled an insult you couldn’t shake.

“what the fuck is that doing here?” his voice cut through the silence, sharp, angry, but you knew him—beneath the anger was something softer, something protective that didn’t always know how to come out gently.

“you can’t be mad about a scale, rafe,” you muttered, not meeting his eyes as you moved to tuck it back into the corner of the bathroom. it felt safer there, out of sight, out of his glaring.

but rafe’s hand shot out, grabbing the scale and tossing it into the hallway with a clatter that made you flinch. “no. no fucking way. i’m not letting you do this to yourself.”

you crossed your arms, shrinking in on yourself under his intense gaze. “it’s not a big deal,” you tried, but your voice wavered, giving away the lie.

his chest rose and fell, breath coming heavy as he ran a hand through his hair. “not a big deal? you’ve been…” he gestured to you, his words faltering as though he didn’t know how to say it without breaking you further. “you’ve been looking at yourself like you’re not… enough. like you think i’d ever see you the way you’re seeing yourself. it’s bullshit.”

his voice cracked on the last word, and it made your throat tighten, tears pricking at your eyes. “it’s not about you,” you whispered.

“but it’s about you, and that makes it about me,” he shot back, stepping closer until he was right in front of you, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him. “you think i’m gonna let you stand there and tear yourself apart? that i’m gonna let you… punish yourself over some stupid number? fuck no.”

his words were harsh, but his thumb was soft as it brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped free despite your best efforts.

“it’s not that easy,” you said, your voice cracking, and it felt like admitting that broke something in you, the walls you’d been holding up against him crumbling under the weight of your own insecurities.

“yeah, it’s not easy,” he said, his voice softening, “but you don’t have to do it alone. and you sure as hell don’t need that thing”—he nodded toward the scale lying abandoned in the hall—“to tell you your worth.”

you swallowed hard, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping yourself together. “what if i don’t know how to stop?”

he pulled you into his chest, wrapping you up in arms that were solid and warm and everything you needed to keep you from falling apart completely. “we’ll figure it out,” he murmured into your hair. “but it starts with me getting rid of that fucking thing. deal?”

his lips pressed to your temple, lingering there like he was willing his own strength into you, and for the first time in days, weeks, maybe longer, you felt like you could breathe.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs

[tannedalien]

Just finished reading "Accidentally sending mha ur nudes" And why did it eat so hard!?

UR LITTERALY AMAZING WTF!?!

Anyway- could you do mha boys getting baby fever?

Have a good day/night! ♡

i saw this request a while ago and was wandering how i'd do it for so long because as someone who doesn't actually want kids, this does nothing for me LMAO BUT i did the research and hopefully you girlies will love this !! mwuah

warning: nothing lol

sypnosis: bakugou, kirishima and iida are having extreme baby fever and they bring up the question, "would you ever have kids?" to reader, WHAT WILL HAPPEN NYEHEHEHE

╰┈➤ Bakugou Katsuki

Being with katsuki means you have no idea what his emotional cues are. he doesnt show how he feels alot. He usually keeps to himself so if he does have a problem or something he wants to talk to you about, he'd just wait for you to realise and bring it up yourself or until the problem is resolved.

So when you and him are sat eating pizza on your huge couch and he blurts out "You'd be a great mom" you're heart did backflips.

You blinked, not quite sure if you had heard him correctly. Katsuki didn’t exactly do well with feelings, and for him to just casually drop a bomb like that was... unexpected, to say the least. The smile on his face, though small, made your heart race in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It was like seeing a glimpse of something deeper, something softer in him that he usually kept hidden.

You put your slice of pizza down, the moment suddenly feeling too big to continue with something so trivial. "Katsuki… what do you mean by that?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your stomach was doing a strange, fluttery thing that you were too embarrassed to acknowledge.

He leaned back against the couch, chewing slowly, as though trying to figure out how to put it into words. “You’re good with kids,” he muttered, shrugging slightly. “The way you are with people, the way you care for them. You’re patient, even when they’re being little shits." His lips quirked into a half-smirk. "Could see it. You’d handle it fine."

You felt warmth spread through your chest at the compliment, even though it was coming from him in his usual blunt manner. It was a side of him that he rarely showed, and it made you feel like maybe he was offering a little piece of himself that he didn't often share. "Well… I don't know about all that," you said, trying to deflect, but the smile that tugged at your lips was hard to hide. "But, uh, thanks. I guess."

He gave a small, almost shy nod, before turning his attention back to his pizza, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely at ease either. The tension from earlier had faded, but there was still something lingering between you two now. You couldn't quite put it into words, but it felt like something important had just shifted.

After a long pause, you couldn't help but ask, "Do you think you'd be a good dad?" The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you immediately felt a bit daft.

Katsuki's expression flickered for a moment, and you could tell he was thinking it over, unsure whether he wanted to entertain the idea. After a beat, he finally grunted. "Maybe. If the kid doesn't turn out like me, anyway."

You chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. "That's probably for the best, yeah."

He let out a huff but didn’t pull away from your touch, which you took as a silent sign that, despite his usual tough exterior, he didn't mind the rare moments when you got close like this. It was small, but in Katsuki's world, it felt like a huge step.

╰┈➤ kirishima eijirou

Eijirou Kirishima wasn’t one to keep things to himself. If he was feeling something—anything—he made sure everyone around him knew. But today? Today was different. There was a strange, giddy energy bubbling up inside him, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It had started a few days ago, and now, as you and he relaxed in the living room of your flat, he found it nearly impossible to ignore.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Kirishima sat down beside you with a heavy sigh. He was unusually quiet, which was odd for him; his usual loud and boisterous personality was nowhere to be found. Instead, he seemed almost... pensive? His fingers drummed absently on the cushion between you, as though he was working through something in his mind.

"Hey, what's up with you?" you asked, glancing up from your phone. "You’ve been a bit off all day."

He flashed you a wide grin, but it was strained, almost like he was holding back a laugh—or something more serious. "Ah, you know, just... thinking," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly unsure of how to start the conversation. "Thinking about... well, you’ll probably laugh."

You tilted your head curiously, setting your phone aside. "Well, now you've got my attention. What’s going on, Kirishima?"

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks faintly pink. It was a rare sight—Kirishima, usually so confident, a little bashful. “So... I’ve been, uh, thinking a lot about... kids.”

Your eyebrows shot up, unsure if you had heard him correctly. "Kids?" you echoed. "Like, babies? You mean like—"

"Yeah! Babies." He blurted it out, his voice a little too high-pitched to be casual. He quickly cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “Not just babies babies, but like... the whole idea of... you know. Being a dad one day.”

You sat there in stunned silence for a moment, your mind racing to process the unexpected admission. Kirishima had always been the sort to get excited about things, but this was new, even for him.

“Why?” you asked, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. You didn’t want to sound skeptical, but your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Kirishima—your lovable, boisterous boyfriend—thinking about fatherhood. "Where’s this coming from?"

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "I don't know. I guess I’ve just been noticing things lately. Like... kids are kinda cute, yeah? And you know, when I see little ones with their parents, it makes me think... what if I had one of my own someday?"

You tried to hide your grin, but it was hard. Kirishima, the tough and often reckless hero-in-training, was having what could only be described as a serious case of baby fever.

“I was at the grocery store earlier," he continued, his voice growing more animated. "And I saw this little kid with his mum, and the kid was being all grumpy, you know? But the mum just bent down and talked to him all calmly, and the kid totally cheered up! It was like... wow, that’s really cool.”

You chuckled softly at his earnestness, your heart warming at how much he cared about the world around him, even in the little details. "Sounds like you're imagining yourself as that mum, huh?"

Kirishima’s eyes lit up, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Yeah! But like, both of us! You and me, working together, raising a little one. I can just picture it—me playing with the kid while you make lunch, and we’d all laugh, and everything would be perfect!” He gave you a goofy, wide grin, his usual enthusiasm returning.

Your heart swelled. He was already imagining the family life with you—so effortlessly, without hesitation. And the idea of it was... well, it was enough to make you feel something deep in your chest.

"I mean," he added with a wink, "I know I’d make a killer dad. I’ve got the energy, right?" He flexed his arm, as if to show you just how ready he was to take on fatherhood. His smile was unshakable, but you could see the genuine excitement behind his eyes, the soft vulnerability that wasn’t usually there when he spoke about things this personal.

“You’d be an amazing dad, Kirishima,” you said, your voice soft. "But, uh, are you sure you’re ready for that kind of responsibility?"

“Hell yeah, I’m ready!” He said it with such confidence, his voice booming in the way it always did when he was all-in on something. "I mean, I might not know all the ins and outs of parenting yet, but I’ve got the heart for it! And I’ve got you by my side, right?" He turned to you, his hand sliding into yours, squeezing gently.

You looked into his eyes, feeling the sincerity behind his words. It was moments like these that made you realise just how much you meant to him. His loyalty, his drive, his desire to be the best he could be—it was all part of the same package, and it extended beyond just hero work. He wanted to build something with you, something real, something lasting.

“Maybe... maybe not just yet,” you said, teasing him gently, though your smile was full of warmth. “But I’d be lying if I said the idea didn’t sound kind of nice.”

He grinned, clearly relieved that you didn’t shut him down completely. "So... you’re saying there’s a chance?"

You squeezed his hand, leaning in closer. "Yeah, Kirishima. There’s a chance. But let’s start with getting through today first, yeah? I think we can handle just us two for now."

He laughed, his usual boisterous energy coming back full force. "Hell yeah! One step at a time, right? But, mark my words, when the time comes... you and me, we’re gonna be awesome at it."

You smiled, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you pulled him in for a hug. “I believe you.”

And as you held him there, you couldn’t help but imagine what the future might hold. Maybe it was far off, maybe it wasn’t even in the cards yet, but the thought of it—raising a family with Kirishima—was enough to make you feel like maybe, just maybe, this little dream of his didn’t seem so far-fetched after all.

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida

You and Tenya Iida had spent the day together, enjoying a quiet evening at his family’s home in the countryside. It was rare for the two of you to have such downtime, with both of you often consumed by schoolwork, training, and hero duties. But today, you had a rare moment to yourselves, and it felt almost surreal, like a fleeting moment of peace in an otherwise chaotic life.

The evening sky was painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set, and the two of you sat on the porch of Iida’s house, the cool evening breeze rustling the trees around you. He was sitting next to you, his posture as straight as ever, but his usual stern, all-business attitude was softened by the serenity of the moment. You leaned back on the porch swing, content, with a cup of tea in your hands.

It was then that Iida’s voice broke the silence, sounding strangely... hesitant.

“Y/N, have you ever thought about... children?”

You blinked, your tea momentarily forgotten as you turned to face him. “Children?” you repeated, unsure if you’d heard him right. He was sitting there, as composed as ever, his glasses glinting in the fading light, but there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

“Yes, children,” he repeated with an awkward cough. “You know, the... the future. Family. It’s just... something that’s been on my mind lately.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Oh? You’ve been thinking about kids?”

He turned to you, his expression more serious now, but still clearly not fully comfortable with the subject. “Yes, I have. And... I wanted to ask your opinion on the matter.”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve been thinking about it much myself,” you said, your voice teasing, “but you’ve got my attention now. What brought this on, Iida?”

He adjusted his glasses, a habit he only did when he was particularly nervous or embarrassed. “I’ve been doing some... self-reflection lately. I’ve noticed how much joy my older brother Tensei has when he’s around his children. The way he and his wife interact with their little ones, how happy they are, it made me realise something.”

You leaned in, curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

Iida paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful, almost distant. “I think... I think I’d like to have children one day. I’ve always focused so much on my duties, on being the perfect representative of the Iida family, on becoming a great hero, but perhaps there’s more to life than just those things.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. Iida, the ever-dedicated, disciplined class rep, admitting that his ambitions could extend beyond his role as a hero? It was a big revelation.

“Iida... that’s a lot to think about,” you said gently. “I mean, children are a huge responsibility.”

He nodded eagerly, his voice firm, as though he had already made up his mind. “Indeed. But I believe I could balance my hero duties with a family. After all, I have always strived to be a man of responsibility. And children are the future, aren’t they? They are a symbol of hope, of the legacy we leave behind.”

You blinked, surprised at how deeply he had thought about it. “I didn’t realise you were so... passionate about it.”

A small, shy smile spread across his face as he glanced over at you. “I suppose it’s not something I’ve shared much. But after seeing Tatsuya with his children, I realised that the joy they bring into the world is something... I’d like to experience for myself. Perhaps we could... raise a family one day?”

Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, you simply stared at him, trying to process his words. You had always known Iida was a man of principle, but hearing him speak so openly about family, about a future with children, caught you off guard. You never expected him to be so... tender about it.

“Well,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips, “I can’t say I’ve thought about it too much either. But the idea of having a family with you? Iida, that sounds... nice.”

His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “R-Really?”

“Really,” you said, your smile growing. “You’d be a great father. You’ve got this strong sense of duty and a deep care for those around you. I think kids would love that.”

Iida’s face lit up at your words, and for the first time that evening, he looked completely at ease. The stiffness in his posture faded, and he let out a small, relieved laugh.

“I suppose I hadn’t considered how much work would go into raising a family. But I am determined,” he said, his voice brimming with conviction. “I would make sure that our children, if we ever had them, were raised with the utmost care, respect, and love.”

You reached out, resting your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his palm as you squeezed gently. “I know you would, Iida. I can see it already.”

He smiled at you, his usual seriousness replaced by a softness you rarely saw. “You’d be an excellent mother, Y/N. I’m certain of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his words, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Well, I suppose we’d better start practising, then.”

“Practising?” he asked, a slight confusion in his voice.

“Yeah,” you teased, “if we’re going to have a family, we might as well start with something small... like a pet, maybe.”

Iida blinked at you, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion. “A pet?” he asked, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. “I... suppose that might be a good first step.”

You grinned at him. “We can start with something easy. Maybe a dog. Or a cat. Get used to the whole ‘responsibility’ thing first.”

Iida stared at you for a moment, his smile widening slowly, before he let out a deep, contented sigh. “A dog, you say? I suppose... I could live with that.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’ll make a wonderful father, Tenya Iida. And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

He blushed at the kiss but smiled all the same. "I look forward to it, Y/N. Truly."

And as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, you both sat there, side by side, quietly contemplating a future that, while uncertain, felt a little more possible than before.

AHHHH THIS TOOK LIKE 2 WEEKS BUT I LOCKED IN BC I FORGOR ABOUT IT LOWKEY

anyways i love yall please please please send requests in cause you love me yayyyy

[thedeepspacecadet]

Night of Secrecy

Summary: A retelling of Night of Secrecy from the POV of a paranoid and anxious Sylus, based on my previous post.

Word Count: 1.2k words

Notes: Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x MC, no smut but definitely intimate, angst with a happy ending, mentions of myth and Sylus lore

this is my first ever fanfic, i would love feedback!! also, I am incapable of naming things sorry about the title!

Thump, thump, thump.

Sylus wondered if you could hear his heart beating out of his chest as he carried you to his room. Did you feel it fluttering under his skin as you pushed him onto the couch? As you mounted his lap, did you get a peek behind the mask he donned just for you that night? Sylus, who was cocky and confident by nature, felt as if he was about to come undone. He couldn't bear to show you how nervous he was and he hoped that he was still coming across as his normal, laidback self.

He had been on his best behavior since you left the N109 Zone after the auction. He realized, almost too late, that he was pushing you too far and too fast. As he watched you leave for Linkon, he made a pact with himself to let you set the pace. Sylus refused to let his own greed and desire get in the way of finally being with you again. He made his intentions clear with you whenever he could, never shying away from admitting how much he cared for you. But at the same time, he did his best to not pressure you into reciprocating those feelings. He was simply happy that you allowed his unabashed flirting. Sylus wanted to make it clear to you that if you were ever ready, he would be waiting for your with open arms. Now, he could finally admit to himself that his restraint had paid off. Despite his actions during your first trip to the N109 Zone, you were finally starting to trust him. Maybe even more than trust him, as evidenced by the fact that he was currently underneath you.

Before he had enough time to process his thoughts on the matter, you were pressing your lips to his. With that simple action, the mask that Sylus had worked so hard to keep in place that night shattered. His first instinct was that he must be dreaming, he was only ever lucky enough to kiss you in dreams, both in this life and his last. His second instinct was to devour you. Before he could act on this impulse, he was proud that he remembered his decision to let you set the pace. He refused to scare you off by being overzealous. He could've spent hours on that couch, hands roaming each other's bodies, only pulling away from the other's lips when one of you needed to breathe. And that was exactly what he planned to do. That is until you asked him to move to the bed.

Sylus decided, as you wrapped your legs around him and he carried you across the room, that his plan needed to change. He could no longer afford to be patient, he already knew how this could end and he still awoke from nightmares with a phantom pain in his chest to remind him. If Sylus could finally have you, and not in some twisted, soul-bound dream, he would do everything in his power to make the most of this moment. But as he laid you down on the bed, he couldn't help but retreat into his own paranoia. In the haze of your touch, he had forgotten the implications of you being with him. Your career, your freedom, everything you had worked for could be gone just by being with him here tonight. He had hurt you, kidnapped you, forced you to resonate. He could almost laugh at how incredulous it sounded, one of the top hunters in bed with the Association's most wanted criminal. If he was finally coming to this realization, he worried that you would follow suit. Could he really be this selfish? His hands were moving before his brain could overwhelm him with the guilt.

He did the only thing he could think to do: cover your eyes and tell you not to look. It seemed almost juvenile, like playing peek-a-boo with a child. But what other option did he have? Lest you open your eyes and see not your kindred spirit, but the monster this incarnation of you has come to know. He wouldn't survive the pain of you regretting this, couldn't live with the thought that you might change your mind. Sylus hoped that if he could just keep you from looking at him, you might not see all of his faults. The desire to feel his love reciprocated by you was drowning him. He made a valiant effort to keep his hands over your eyes until he was so drunk on the feeling of your body under him that he lost sight of his goal to keep you in the dark. As his hands finally got another chance to explore you, he felt his mask slip back into place, his smug demeanor finally back. It certainly helped when you made your own greed known. Sylus allowed himself permission to be greedy back, and with your consent, he was ready to swallow you whole.

His joy lasted for what felt like a millisecond, before he felt your hand on his chest, pushing him away. A voice in the back of his mind reared its ugly head and sneered, of course she would come to her senses, why would she want a monster like you. Bile rose in the back of his throat, but he pushed through. With his last breath before his mask broke yet again, he asked if you truly wanted to stop. To his disbelief and delight, you answered him by pulling him into another kiss. He spent the rest of the night worshipping you, taking every crumb that you gave him and savoring it like it was his last meal. For all he knew, it could have been.

In the morning, he woke to you in his arms and he didn't bother to hide his happiness. You stayed and that was all that mattered. After a quick shower to wash the last few hours off of him, Sylus had fully expected to crawl back in bed with you until he had to leave. Instead, he was greeted by a cold bed and an empty room. You were gone. He didn't know if you had finally decided that being with him was a mistake, or maybe you had just used him to blow off some steam. Whatever the reason, at least you weren't there to see him fall to his knees. It was almost a relief, really, that you finally comprehended just how ill-fated a relationship between the two of you would be. Sylus surely wasn't strong enough or selfless enough to let you go, even if that would have been best for you. He made peace with the fact that he would just have to beg you for any scrap of yourself that you could give him, if only so he would have a reason to stay by your side.

His downward spiral was interrupted by a car horn blaring outside of his window. He couldn't help but smile as he peered through the glass and saw you waiting outside in the car. When he made his way outside, he certainly couldn't hide his surprise when you made your intentions to stand by his side clear. It was almost pathetic, how quickly you could change his mood. He was like a puppy, when you called he came running. Maybe he could've tried harder to stop himself from kissing you right then and there, but what would be the point? He was sure you could hear his heart confessing to you on his behalf anyway, with its incessant thump, thump, thump.

[thetadispatcher]

Vincent gave a quiet hum of approval as he nodded his head very slightly. He didn't know any better way to put his thoughts into words without risking rambling again. He still wasn't used to talking to people, having become too reliant on using non verbal forms to communicate.

He also preferred noises over actually speaking, even with people he knew well and trusted. It was something he'd learned was called selective mutism, another thing his anxiety was causing that he was trying to work on. The AP700 felt he'd worked on enough of his issues for the day, and that the other would understand why he hadn't given a verbal response, and not be offended by his silence.

"Perhaps that is true. I like a challenge, a chance to further improve my skills." Nines was the last model Cyberlife ever released, and he'd been made to excel at his intended function, so finding something that could be considered challenging for him was quite hard.

So he was happy to have found a chance to further improve his skills, and he felt it would be a waste to pass up on the opportunity. "I already have these two fully worked out, so there's not much fun in it for me. And I see a fun opportunity in front of me, so I'd be a fool to pass on it." The RK900 kept his expression neutral, another thing he found to greatly annoy those around him. He found it funny how something as simple as refusing to show emotions, whether it was by changing his facial expression or letting his LED shift colors, could cause so many to yell at him for it.

The other two androids just looked at Nines, seemingly annoyed by the android's blunt way for saying things, but they didn't comment on it as they knew it wouldn't do anything.

Strasky glanced at the RK800 as he went back to his previous task of picking out toys that fit what Willow had said, he had to agree that it was very clear that Vincent was trying to better himself. Even if the AP700 clearly didn't want to, he had people who encouraged him and didn't find his behavior annoying.

"Maybe one day, I just can't say when..." It wasn't a topic he could see himself approaching in the near future, at least not until he could think about it without feeling every muscle in his body tense, and the sensation of his heart sinking.

The physical reaction and the instant mental turmoil that followed was enough for him, enough to know that he couldn't be able to talk about it without something bad happening. "And I don't want to promise anything as I might disappoint a lot of people if I do..."

"I can offer my assistance, but I can only do so much. Although I suppose any help is better then nothing." Dan knew he had given a rather troublesome reason for Strasky's behavior, and there was no good way to look at it. He had a feeling medications wouldn't work on someone without a fully functional brain, and therapy would only do so much.

He paused as he recalled something that had been said to him once, deciding maybe he should share one of Peter's more insightful spiels. "The way in which one can lose themselves only to find themselves again when faced with grief by staring into the face of what hurts most and deciding it's worth trying, recognizing even in the midst of confusion and despair and mere hopelessness that happiness is achievable and worth the struggle it takes to obtain it. Peter said that once, and I feel it applies to this situation." The PL600 said with a slight nod as he thought of how to further explain his point.

"He just has to realize that he won't get anywhere, that nothing will get better, until he faces down the thing that hurts the most, and finally talks about. Maybe then that voice in his head, the one he allows to degrade him, will no longer have any power as he realizes the things it tells him are lies. That he doesn't have anything to fear, he doesn't have to be perfect to make others like him, he only needs to be himself and people who like that will find him, he doesn't have to search for them." Dan explained as he gently pet the creature resting on his shoulders, it was clearly very interested in what they were talking about even if it didn't fully comprehend it.

"Simply put, he has to stop feeding the monster looming over him, allowing it to have power over him, and go against what it says."

It wasn't a long wait before Vincent reactivated. The android only briefly shifted his gaze away from his work to look at the other, knowing by now that the pain around the LED was temporary. This was all pretty standard, there was no need to get worked up about it.

He kept at it once Vincent while settled down more comfortably, then showed the result of his efforts so far. He seemed to be making a chicken.

Bishop's expression didn't shift during the exchange, nor at Nines' offer.

"Aren't you by any chance offering to switch seats because you are the one in need of a challenge?" he replied with a smirk.

It'd definitely be more difficult to get away with lies, but he had accepted to play to see how good Nines was and the only way to do that was to challenge him directly.

Willow motioned with her hand at Sixty's answer, pointing out she was right about Vincent's chances of improving. It was perhaps the only positive part, as having no record of androids who deviated because of positive influences wasn't exactly encouraging.

She could, however, encourage Strasky. "Please, do try once you feel ready. There are many new people waiting to welcome you for who you are. You simply have to let them in and perhaps consider seeing a therapist."

"Wow." Rook ran a hand through her hair, "That’s a lot of stuff to drop on somebody who resents herself every other day. I got him out of hell and told him to stay clear of Bishop. I'm only good at fighting things, I'm going to mess that up."

[snoopychris]

aquarium

in which... chris takes mermaid!reader to the aquarium for the first time

sometimes the ocean served as an escape to you. the corals were beautiful, the animals were so friendly sometimes, and it felt so nice to spend time alone with your thoughts at times. at the very same time, sometimes it felt like a prison of sorts. the ocean, as big as it was, sometimes just felt so repetitive. you were 10 years old the first time your dad had let you go onto land on your own. ever since then, it had been such a relief. although a majority of nights were spent in the water, most of the day was spent on land. the places you visited would always vary, ranging from the beach to your dads restaurant to a different beach to a coffee shop and most recently, the sturniolo house. the friendship that had blossomed between you and chris was something you never expected to happen. you had a few friends on land, but there had never been anybody as adamant on hanging with you than chris. it felt like every time you grabbed your phone, there would be a text asking if you wanted to hang out. it was nice having a friend who seemed to really care.

chris was so grateful to finally have a drivers license. the last time he was here, he had to ask matt to drive him everywhere. this time he didnt. this time, chris could do whatever he wanted as long as his grandmother gave him the keys to a car. she never said no. in the past few weeks, chris had found himself spending a lot of time with you on random beaches you would tell him about.

some had nice fish, some had nice corals, some had lots of sea turtles, some had cool plants, some had cool tide pools. he didnt mind spending time on beaches with you, but sometimes it just wasnt enough. it especially wasnt enough since neither of you ever actually went swimming. he never questioned it– maybe you were just like him and afraid of the water.  sometimes, Chris wanted more. he wanted to be able to take you on nice dates to nice restaurants. 

this was the first time he convinced you to leave the comfort of beaches and his house. something about your entire being drew him towards the aquarium. in small talk conversation, you had told him you’d never been. he had seen people all over his social media apps talking about how it’s one of the most romantic places to take your partner. he knew that you may not have been anywhere near dating, but he just had to take you. your hair was swaying in the wind, the pastel highlights you had recently gotten really showing through. chris wants to kiss you. he knows he can’t, but he really really wants to. 

Chris can’t help but smile when he sees your face light up every time you talk about fish and other sea creatures. he wants to ask how you have such close experience with the blue ringed octopus, but he’s sure that you’ll tell

him the story one day. he wonders how you’ve gone so long living in the Keys and never having gone to the aquarium. chris doesn’t take long to park, but he spends a good minute staring at you. god, you’re beautiful. he runs over to the passenger side of his grandfathers old car, opening the door for you. you send him a small thank you and make your way towards the front door of the building. 

chris feels a blush creep onto his face when your eyes widen in amusement at all of the sea themed decorations. he could’ve gotten the tickets online, but he thought it’d take away from the experience. he makes his way to the cashier, making sure you’re following close behind. both of you recognize the girl standing behind the counter— she’s a girl name kaylynn. you know her for all the wrong reasons. chris knows her for all the right ones. you lick your lips as a look of anger grows on your face. kaylynn tries to be friendly for a second, she really does.

it doesn’t last. “chris… hanging out with the burger girl i see. y’know… you could always hang out with me. we could go to the beach and watch the turtles” she quips. your face contorts as you hold back a response. you could say a lot right now. the look on chris’ face is the only thing holding you back. a small scoff leaves your mouth as you roll your eyes, being met with another comment about your fathers restaurant. you should hold back. not for your sake but for chris’. whatever. you mumble it at first, earning a look from kaylynn. it’s one that screams ‘too scared to fight back?’ you can’t have that. not today. 

“oh my apologies kaylynn. guess you didn’t hear me. so what i said was that you’re a two faced pick me bitch.” if chris wasn’t in shock before, he is now. “pearl!” he yells quietly, his eyebrows high and his mouth hung low. “i’m being honest.” you whisper, snatching the tickets from the girl and walking away. if you could wipe that grin off her face, you would. chris jogs over to you after sending poor kaylynn a semi-apologetic look, gripping onto your wrist gently. 

“what’s that all about?” he asks, letting go of your hand when you sit down on a bench. from what you can tell it’s made of old treasure boxes. “she acts like she cares about all the fish and all the other animals but once i saw her scuba diving and literally stepping on coral with her water shoes. i also saw her litter on a beach.” you explain, crossing your arms. chris shakes his head, running fingers through his hair. “yeah that’s definitely a good excuse for disliking her.” he chuckles, looking around. the two of you still haven’t even entered the aquarium. “here cmon.” he whispers. his hand locks with yours, dragging you to the main attraction. you gasp slightly at the sights you were seeing. even though a lot of the tanks were beautifully decorated, covered in vines and corals, you couldn’t help but feel bad for the fish. some of them were speaking to you. you wished you could help them.

chris can’t help but smile when you put your hand on one of the tanks. you look even more beautiful against the water. “do you um… wanna go swimming with stingrays? they have that here…” your eyes widen at his words. you’re not too sure if it’s because you know this isnt the right place for stingrays or if it’s because there’s open water. a way for you to get caught. you were always careful at the beach. if anything happened you could run away for a bit, dry off, and then come back. if anything happened here there was no escape. chris quickly notices your expression, shaking his head “don’t worry i’m not a fan either! not after steve irwin.” he jokes, continuing to pull you along. you actually really liked stingrays. they were cool. 

you follow close behind chris, hand in hand the entire time. you’d never had a friend guide you like this. it feels nice. every time he turns a corner, there’s more and more fish speaking to you telepathically. it’s something you wanted to turn off sometimes. but others it was nice to hear them when you were swimming alone. “can we get out of here? i feel bad for the fish.” you whisper. chris’ gaze towards you softens, leading you away from the crowds. there’s kids around you screaming. there’s a water table nearby. you hear about it from one of the fish. you gasp slightly at the sight of it, gripping chris’ hand tighter. in your mind, you’re petrified. in chris’ mind, you just like holding his hand. luckily, you make it to the gift shop dry. 

the first thing your hands fly to is a small shark plush. you don’t know why you’re so drawn to it, but you know you just need to have it. chris chuckles, grabbing a similar one. they’re almost identical, the only difference coming from the style of shark. “they’re palm pals. take it.  i’ll buy it for you.” he smiles. you smile back, setting it down on the counter. you feel bad spending his money, but chris feels bad not buying you more. on the way out of the gift shop, you begin to speak. “thank you. this was nice. i know we weren’t here for long but… you’re a good friend chris.” it sends a pang towards chris’ heart, but he knows that you really are nothing more than friends, despite your hands still being intertwined. he shrugs, jokingly flexing his arms next to the car. “it’s what i do.” he smiles, opening the door for you. he grabs onto your hand as you climb in, the roof over your head being a nice comfort. it was a feeling so vastly different from the one inside. there was no water here. 

it’s a bit crazy when you arrive to chris’ house. the drive is only about 25 minutes, and yet in those 25 minutes, the previously clear skies had turned dark grey. it was pouring. chris gently turns the keys out of the ignition, turning towards you. you’re filled with panic again, but your poker face is so spot on that chris doesn’t notice. “y’ready?” he asks, nudging your shoulder. you glance up at him and then outside , shaking your head. “let’s just talk till the rain dies down.” you shrug, pushing your tinseled hair away from your face. chris is never going to decline that offer. the land sometimes felt like an escape. it was such a shame that there were things you’d never be able to do. as much as you hated to admit it, if the ocean was a prison, so was the land. both places you could be at the same time. a strange feeling arises in your stomach when you realize that the only place you’re truly free is any place that you’re with chris.

🫧dividers by @13hoax my angel

🫧tags(reply or message to be added!): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbratt333@wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @zebonos @chrislova @muwapsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @throatgoat4u @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @zebonos @ribbonlovergirl @colorthecosmos444

🫧a/n: this ending was rushed can you tell :/ if you see this within the first few minutes of me positng it ignore how the layout looks. anyway welcome back cgs chris i missed you.

[arkhamsbrat]

❦— jason todd x civilian! reader

in which jason is totally not planning on stealing you away from your shitbag of a bf

part 1 ! part 2 ! part 3 ! part 4 ! part 5 !

jason was returning the favor. at least that’s what he called beating the life out of your now ex boyfriend. (nearly) every single thing he did to you, he got back. there were a few lines jason wouldnt cross.

he stopped by the gas station on the way back, picking up a pint of ice cream and some extra snacks. telling himself it was just in case you woke up when he reentered his apartment.

when he walked in, you were curled around a blanket he doesn’t remember owning. it was probably yours. definitely not his, it looked too… soft. like you. he stood there staring for a moment. you deserved so much better than what that guy put you through. he’d make damn sure you got better.

it didn’t feel weird just watching you sleep. maybe he shouldve felt guilty, maybe even ashamed. but why did you come to him? why did you make it so easy for him to worm his way into your life? c’mon. it’s like you were asking him to do all this for you.

even in your sleep it seemed like you couldn’t catch a break. you tossed and turned restlessly. “y’poor thing..” he muttered to himself while he threw the snacks in the freezer. scared whines slipped out of you every few minutes. the thought crossed his mind to run back out to kill your ex. it’d be worth it.

instead, he decided to be selfish. to save you, again. it filled him with a strange sense of pride, seeing how you looked up at him with those glittering eyes. it’s addictive. you made jason feel like he was good.

jason put a hand on your shoulder and shook gently, whispering, “hey..” he waited a moment before your eyes flutter open. “jason? wha-” you rubbed the tears out of your eyes, body feeling heavier after waking up. “go to the bed.” he said softly, shooting you a comforting smile. asking what you were dreaming about was not a part of his current plan. for now, he’d just blame it on comfort. “y’look miserable on this damn thing. i’ll take the couch.”

you tried to argue with him. you told him that you wouldn’t kick him out of his own bed, he’s done enough for you. unfortunately for you, jason is a miserably stubborn man. he gave you a firm look and tipped his head towards the room. “you’re my guest, yeah? i want the couch. gonna be rude and tell me no?”

you stood, wrapped in your blanket, and almost started walking to his room with eyes still bleary. it didn’t feel right to ask him for so much with only so little you could give in return. but jason loved you, that was something you knew 100%. how he loved you, though, you weren’t exactly sure.

“jay?” your voice was barely a whisper. unrecognizable from your usual happy tone you always had with him. he let out a small hum. “do y’think…” the thought wouldn’t let itself come out.

a little spark of hope twitched in his chest you both stood there silently staring at each other. “think what?” his blue eyes bore into yours. in the dim light, you swore they flickered green. “i know im already askin’ a lot but, it’s been a while since ive slept…” your voice grew quiet. alone.

the spark trapped in his chest grew bigger. for a moment, he considered if finishing your thoughts for you was the right move. who was he kidding, of course it was. “y’want me to sleep with you, sweetheart?” his voice soothed any anxieties you had left. you nodded shyly.

jason crossed the room within seconds, pulling you into a tight hug. “y’aren’t asking for too much, i swear.” tears slipped from your eyes before you could realize it. it’s all been too much in one day. his hands moved from your back to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the tears away. “y’tell me anything you need and ill do it. dont give a fuck what it is.”

you stared into his eyes, knowing good and well he meant every word. it shouldve scared you, his level of devotion. you just couldnt find the energy in you. blind loyalty like this was welcome after everything youve gone through. so, you nodded, and let him practically carry you to his bed.

jason set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crawling in next to you. “y’sure youre okay with this?” you nod, fiddling with the edge of your own blanket. “shouldnt i be asking you that, jayce?” he laughed softly and turned on his side to look at you. “nah, dont mind you here.”

[sanjisluvbot]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader

A/N: recently I've gotten into DC bc a new superman is coming out this summer! Along with getting Nightwing edits on my TT I have been seeing alot of Batfam and neglected reader ( why is y/n always neglected Lmfao). Anyways as I work on my other stories tell me how you enjoy this and if you want the finished product. See you wednesday!

The smell of fire filled your lungs and you begged all above to remove the burning filing through your nostrils. You lost track of where your mother was and hoped she made it out. The heat was intense and as more smoke encased itself in your tiny chest, time was running out and there was nothing left to do but lie on the wooden floor. Just as you thought you were closing your eyes for the last time there— in his dark glory— Batman. 

The dark knight finally came to save you, the rest was history. 

You wake in the hospital, a smiling nurse adjusting you and explaining everything to your tear-riddled doe-eyed self. Everything you’d ever known was erased, there was no trace of your mother and a man from Gotham decided to take little old you in. The smog of Gotham was different than New York, it lay on top of the city like a weighted blanket and made it all the more sinister. You arrived at the manor, biting your lip anxiously as it looked like the home of vampires and every other night creature you could think of. Two men were waiting for you when you stepped out of the car, both tall and sturdy-looking eyes hardened by the trials of life. The man with oceanic blue eyes stuck his hand out, eyes slightly softening when he noticed your apprehensiveness. You reached out and felt callouses and the warmth of his palms. 

He smiled at you introducing himself as Bruce Wayne, and then his butler, Alfred. They were both doting and kind, showering you with the affections left absent by your missing mother. You found yourself often in Bruce’s lap while he worked or in his bed crying into his chest when you were reminded of your mother during the night. Eventually, you begin to call him dad. Daddy’s sweet little girl is what they called you in Gotham. You were spoiled rotten and Bruce was constantly praised for saving you from a life filled with loneliness and the perils of poverty. 

As you got older Bruce became busier, and you no longer had the time to even cuddle and watch movies on rainy nights. You inquired with Alfred about what was different, and why had he become rather distant from you. Alfred reassured you every time, but you felt a pang in your heart when he introduced Dick Grayson into your little family. He spent almost all his time with Dick now, only sparing you a glance on the very off chance that he had a break. No one would be forward with you on what exactly was going on and, as much as it hurt and your tears soaked your pillows you never cried in front of a soul. The seeds of resentment were growing within you. 

Neglect and anger were apparent. Sometimes, when you linked eyes, you could see a glimmer of the father you once adored and spent every waking minute. You were infatuated with your father’s eyes, they held every word he didn’t whisper like he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. You hoped that even without blood relation you mimicked that feature, maybe save your relationship before it’s fully weaned.

Dick wasn’t that bad in the beginning, you welcomed him with slightly open arms and apprehension. He would entertain you and your heart would flutter when he smiled. But that did not stop your bond being severed without a care.

High school rolled around and your anger boiled over, having Dick be a year older and going to the same school was a nightmare. There was an obsession when it came to you, Bruce Wayne’s youngest, Dick Grayson’s little sister, no one left you alone. Dick would only acknowledge you if the boys cooed and whistled, not even in a way an older brother would be protective of his sister. It was more of a threat. A threat entangled with possessiveness. 

At one point you lashed out, upset at him for ruining your chances with a guy you were interested in. “ Dick, what the fuck is your issue? I liked him!” your yell echoed in the empty hallway. He looked down at you, an indescribable look and you furrowed your eyebrows urging him to answer. He looked away for a moment licking his lip before turning around without a word. 

There was that flutter again. It was wrong and with the excitement came the dread of fully understanding that flutter.

Lmk what you think !

[seitmai]

Sooo many things to say

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Yeah now guess how tired it makes to grow a human from scratch while also being the food source for another one🙄

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

🥰🥰🥰

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with."  Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

Say it!!!

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

hahaha fair

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please." You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

He loves being a dad so much 🥹

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way. "Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls." Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

Bradley's excitment for his daughter(s) is so pure 🥹

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

This is just breaking my heart, she has already so much on her plate...

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need." You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

I think I'm gonna throw up🤢

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

Oh no, I just wanna hug her 🥺 (and maybe slap some sense in Bradley)

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?" Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

Oh I have a feeling Nat is gonna my part in slapping some sense into him

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it. "You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked. "What?" "The word dumbass written across your forehead." "Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place.  Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup." Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Oh good he is so clueless...also Jake for backup is great because he no matter what will be on BG's side!

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

Nat is just the best🫰🏻

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about." The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity. "She wants in your pants," Jake drawled. "Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about. "Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest. Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

Oh god he really doesn't get it 🤦🏻‍♀️

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it. Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well. Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

Halleluja! It got through his thick skull

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

She's so real for that lol

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?" "Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

Jake is jumping on the opportunity to bash Bradley hahah

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?" "Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes. "Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

They are not wrong🤷🏻‍♀️

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?" "Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

Oh he is so fucked when they gang on him like that

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

I love that he loves doing the bedtime routine🥹

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly. "I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

Oh he better start to act like it... I have a bad feeling 🥴

Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.

"Are you ready?"

Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."

You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.

"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks. 

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." 

Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.

"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.

"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."

He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.

"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.

"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."

He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.

He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring. 

Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."

You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

"It's a girl."

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.

"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."

Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

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

Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.

"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.

But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.

Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite. 

When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.

"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."

You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.

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

Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.

As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."

"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"

Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."

She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."

Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.

"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"

Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"

"Yeah." 

She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.

"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

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

After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.

He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag. 

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.

"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.

"What?"

"The word dumbass written across your forehead."

He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.

"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. 

Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."

Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.

"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.

"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.

"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.

"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."

"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.

"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."

Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.

Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"

Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"

Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.

"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.

Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"

"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have? 

"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."

Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.

This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.

Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.

Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.

Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately. 

Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

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

Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

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[yunevan-n]

Have you heard about it?????

I meme a lot on Jimmy BUT that’s not all I think of him. To me, it’s even more impactful to see him as someone and hating him for it, he reminds me so much of guys I have to put up with in my life

That’s why I draw him living and interacting with the others (to be honest my time travel comic has a huge focus on him). I want us to see how he’s like when he’s chill, when he’s sincerely nice, even when he’s a little cool. I honestly don’t even think he would be that weird of a guy or grumpy all the time (it didn’t felt like it in the game, he seemed to joke a lot). There’s so much going on in his little head.

Also, I’ve seen a lot of people telling me I draw him ugly, and WHILE IT’S TRUE that I don’t twinkify him, I don’t think he’s that ugly?? Sure he’s not some model(Curly) but I find him quite average? Maybe we’re not used to older person with wrinkles. Anyway, he just doesn’t seem like the type of person who would use soap. I just know he smells so bad

Maybe it’s why people tell me he’s ugly

Truly the best personification of a cockroach I’ve seen

[inkedbybarnes]

none of it was fake

bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader

summary: you've been undercover with bucky as husband and wife. upon returning, he seems to have forgotten that it was all pretend.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: two idiots cluelessly pining for each other. fluff. usage of petnames such as sweetheart, doll, and baby. lowercase writing.

note: hi, babies. how's everyone? this is my first fic in ages, so sorry if it's not my best one. i just wanted something cute ++ this is unedited & not proofread, might fix it laterrr. still hope you'll enjoy this one! xo

dividers made by @firefly-graphics!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“i can't believe your first kiss happened during a mission. an undercover mission!

wanda huffed, still hung up on the mission you had with bucky weeks ago wherein you had to play pretend as a married couple. there had been a kiss or two during that time, and it felt impossible not to tell your best friend about it when you had been crushing over the soldier for ages.

wanda knew what you felt towards bucky. in fact, she was the only one who knew, or at least the one you shared th information with, and she made sure to ask everything about the mission, even if it took days for her to interrogate you.

“excuse me? that was not my first kiss,” you said defensively, reaching for a cup from the cupboard that you had just opened. “and why are we still talking about this? you and nat already squeezed out every information from me for an entire week.”

“i didn't mean your first first kiss!” she exclaimed, following you around the kitchen as you made yourself a cup of coffee. “you've had a crush on the guy for so long, and the first time you two kiss each other is when you're pretending. that's not how i pictured it at all!”

you had to admit, the mission was sort of a blessing in disguise and a curse at the same time. you were glad to be able to spend time with bucky in ways you've dreamt of, but there was also the horrible reminder that none of it was real. with how avoidant bucky was with you, it was impossible for any of it to happen outside of the mission.

“well, maybe you should stop picturing us doing that sort of stuff. you're way more invested in this than i am, wanda. don't you have your own relationship to think about?” you asked. although you knew she was in a happy relationship with vision, you just wanted her to take a break from all the bucky talk. “when is your man home anyway?”

“my relationship is doing great, so i'm good. i don't need to think of it as much since he gives me everything that i need, and i think of yours because you deserve happiness as well.” she smiled fondly, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “and i'm glad that you asked because this reminded me that vision's arriving with bucky soon.”

“already?” your eyes widened at her statement, completely forgetting that bucky, along with steve, clint, and vision, were coming home today from their mission. “why didn't you tell me sooner!?”

after finishing your mission with bucky two weeks ago, he was immediately sent into another mission which specifically needed him. so, today would technically be the first time you're seeing him again since you last called him your “husband,” which was more nerve-wracking than you expected.

“hey, i'm your best friend, not your alarm.” wanda raised her hands up, defending herself. “and why are you so worried? i can feel your anxiety without needing to be in your head.”

“well, we never talked after.. you know,” you replied, taking a big sip out of your cup. “i know none of it meant anything and that we were just doing our job, but it's the first time i'll be with him normally and not as a pretend married couple. it's kinda awkward, wands.”

“you were able to pretend you didn't like the guy for months, you can do it again for another day.” she answered. “unless you finally tell him what you feel?”

“oh, that? yeah, never happening. i'm not going to risk—”

“there you are, sweetheart.”

there was a collective shocked gasp from both you and wanda, recognizing that voice from behind. except the gasps had different reasons.

you were surprised with his arrival.

wanda was surprised that he casually called you sweetheart.

you turn to find bucky already walking towards you with a smile on his face.

this man never smiles unless he was tasked to do so!

“bucky! you're back!” you awkwardly greeted him.

“yeah, didn't they tell you? i was looking for you when we landed.” he said, pulling you close to him before bending to place a soft kiss on your lips like it was something he'd always done. “you okay, baby? you look pale. did you eat?”

i look pale because wanda is right here with us and you just kissed me while acting like we're dating!

“um, yeah, i'm fine. i'm fine,” you answered, gently pulling yourself away from his arms before he could wrap them around you completely. “can we talk? privately?”

he frowned, worry etched on his face, but he nodded and squeezed your arm softly. “of course. where do you wanna talk, doll?”

“anywhere where wanda isn't there.” you said lightheartedly, throwing a sharp glance at wanda who finally understood what you wanted her to do.

“oh! right, right. i'm sorry, you guys can stay here. i have um..” she paused, thinking of a reason to say. “i have to look for vision anyway. we're supposed to watch a movie together. bye!”

and just like that, wanda was gone and you were left alone with bucky in the kitchen.

before you could speak, bucky asked you first. “what's the matter, doll?”

“what's the matter?” you echoed in a higher tone. “what was that all about?”

“what are you talking about?” he asked, seemingly confused.

“you kissed me, bucky, like it was nothing. then you keep calling me these nicknames.” you reminded him. “we're back home, not in los angeles in our fake house that we used as a fake couple.”

bucky took a step back when he realised his actions, now finding it hard to look at you. “i.. i'm sorry. i completely forgot. i just.. i wasn't thinking. i got used to how we were before,” he mumbled, still finding the right words to say. “did i make you uncomfortable?”

“no, but you made me confused,” you replied. “i'm guessing you got used to how we acted as a fake married couple, but you were gone for another mission. how are you still stuck with the old routine we had?”

“because that's all i could think about,” he answered, now staring at you. “while you're back here in the tower, completely done with our mission, i was thrown back into another one, having only you in my head to pull me back up from the fatigue.”

“you're telling me that you kept thinking about us even when you were gone? why?”

“haven't you?”

“is this a trick question?”

“it's a question to find out whether you like me too or not.”

“you.. you like me?” you blinked. “that's impossible.”

“how on earth is that impossible?”

“because you're always so cold and grumpy around me,” you answered. “i think you're just confused with all the acting we've done, bucky. you don't like me.”

“i was supposed to go on that mission with sharon, not you.” he exhaled. “she volunteered to do it, so she was initially picked. i tried getting out of it, but i had advantages that they needed for the mission to go smoothly. so, i agreed, but in one condition.”

“what was it?” you whispered.

“that you should be my partner,” he answered quickly. “ask me why.”

your heart pounded. “why?”

“because i wanted an excuse to act the way i've always wanted to. i wasn't cold or grumpy because i didn't like you, i just didn't want to scare you.” bucky explained, his hand reaching out for yours. “god, doll. figuring out whether you like me or not has got to be the hardest mission i had to deal with. so do me a favour and get me out of this misery.”

once your lungs found a bit of oxygen again, you finally spoke. “what you said.. you mean it?”

bucky nodded. “every word.”

“well, i like you too.” you tried to bite back a huge smile. “for some time now, actually. wanda will eventually tell you all about my obsession with you. i can't believe we were both worrying for the wrong things.”

“your obsession with me, huh?” he asked cockily, a teasing grin plastered on his face.

“really? i said all that and that's what caught your attention?”

“can't help it. i've been obsessed with you for a long time now as well.” his eyes crinkled at the corners, a little smile gracing his lips while his arm slipped around your waist.

your eyes peeked up at him through your lashes. “does this make it real now?”

“do you want it to be?”

“you're really asking me that?” your chest rumbled. “of course i do.”

“then let's make it real.”

bucky watched you intensely for a few seconds as if he wanted to frame this exact moment before licking his lips and leaning down. you suck a breath, eyes closing as you felt his soft lips meet yours.

you never realised how much you've grown familiar with his touch and affection since your time together as a fake couple.

except this time, none of it was fake.

should we see their time in los angeles as an undercover married couple? 👀

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you get a new piercing

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hear me out, what if y/n pierced their nipples? How would seventeen react? And how would he notice? You told him or like he felt it or when he slid his hand or lifted it up. Please mention how the revelation happens and then reaction 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 ‘

TW/CW: Some of these are suggestive, bordering on a little bit of smut. MDNI. 

A/N: I have some serious trauma when it comes to nipple piercings. More power to you if you like yours, but I did not like mine. 😂

You can’t hide anything from him - Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Minghao

You’re acting suspicious and it starts to worry him. He doesn’t want to pressure you into telling him what’s going on, but he’s really starting to think that something is wrong. Say you guys share locations for safety purposes, like you like to know when he gets settled in the hotel while traveling and he likes to know that you made it home from work when he’s going to be working late. He sneaks a peek at your location during a break one day and sees that you’re at… a piecing shop? His interest is piqued, but he plays it cool when you both get home, casually what you got into today. If you try to deflect or lie, he just calls it out. Like, “uh huh, and how was the piercing shop? 🤨’. You know you’re busted, so you tell him about your surprise. And he is pleasantly surprised! Just don’t try to pull one over on him like that, because it probably won’t work. 

He feels them when he hugs you - Joshua, Woozi

When he comes home from a long week of just missing each other due to conflicting schedules, he pulls you into a hug immediately. It’s really all he’s thought about all week. You’re already in your pajamas without a bra, and it feels… different? But it’s only been a week, so why?? He pulls back and does a quick scan of you and asks if you’re okay. You say ‘of course,’ and he’s not really convinced, but he’s too tired to argue. It’s when he’s got you curled up into his side in bed later that it clicks. Imagine being shaken awake at 3am and opening your eyes to him staring at you and asking, “Do you have something to tell me?” You may or may not be going back to sleep, who’s to say. 

He sees them through your bra/shirt - Jun, DK, Mingyu

Similar to the previous group, he’s just been missing you due to conflicting schedules. But finally, you guys have a free night to see each other! You both are so tired that you both decide to just stay in and order something. You’re wearing a form-fitting top and he’s really trying not to look, honest. He wants to be respectful and he cares to hear about how your week has been, but he also misses your body and being close to you. He glances at your chest, totally meaning for it to just be a glance, but he notices a difference. He reaches out in confusion. “Uh, baby, what is that?” He does not know how to handle this reveal when you show him, at least at first. But when he gets it together, the food will be put aside, conversation totally forgotten. 

He feels them before or during sex - Seungcheol, Chan

It’s been a long week and there’s a lot of frustration pent up. So you aren’t totally surprised when he scoops you up to go to the bedroom as soon as he gets home. It’s as his hand creeps up your shirt or that your shirt comes off entirely, that he realizes something is different. It feels different, or a little sparkle catches his eye. I fully believe that this little revelation would totally change the pace. Whatever you guys were doing before is fast-paced and maybe a little aggressive. But it’ll turn into something sweet and soft, with a little (or a lot) of body worship. Later, he’ll tell you how much he likes them, but for now he’ll show you. 

You have a reaction that gives it away - Hoshi, Seungkwan, Vernon

My experience with this type of piercing is that you don’t realize how many things you bump into until you have it. So, say you guys have just been busy and not really had a lot of time to be intimate lately. You’re in a rush and bump into something. What should have been a small wince that you can keep moving through makes you stop and cry out in pain. He’s borderline panicked, asking if you’re okay. He doesn’t really let you brush it off, wanting to check for bruises or cuts with genuine concern, so eventually, you just have to admit to your little surprise that you were saving for him. And he is surprised and he’ll appreciate it later tonight! But you might get scolded a little bit for now to be more careful.