#sounds so lame but one day I will meet someone and I know we will just click

[teethpaste]

Sometimes you have sex with a person you shouldn’t, just to do it. Because of the lust or how badly you crave the feeling of being wanted. Because there’s a tiny voice screaming in the back of your head that THIS time will be different (when there’s zero proof to validate that thought). But it’s an important reminder that lust and like are different. Every time I do this I’m able to convince my swamp skull of a brain that MAYBE, just MAYBE it will be different. And it never is. I say out loud ohhhh I knew this would happen. That we’d text and talk like crazy for a few weeks to build it up. We’d have sex and then you’d leave again, vanish into thin air because having my body is another game to you.

Convincing me to let you in again - you’ll say all the things I want to hear. The things you know make my walls crumble. That even when you say you miss ME… we’re not thinking of missing the same things. Or maybe we are. But I miss when you slip from holding the small of my back to holding my hand when we’re walking around in public or when you rest your head on my shoulder for a cigarette on the stoop or even when I gently slip off your glasses for you when you fall asleep piss drunk on the couch. You miss slapping me in the face and choking me while having sex with me until you cum. We aren’t the same and I wish we were. Why can’t you want both? My delusional ass just rationalizes it in my head like “ohhhhhh he’s avoidant I’m sure he does miss you, he just doesn’t know how to express it”. But no. You do know how to express it up until you get what you came for. You’re a taker. And you took something again. And I’ll get over it, because it’s important to learn these kinds of lessons the hard way. And I let you do it. But damn.

The grossest part is I’m not even offended he used my body for sex I’m like oh god is it bc he saw me naked AGAIN and realized he’s not attracted to me??? Body dysmorphia is truly a mother fucker lol.

Even writing that out I find myself second guessing “was it worth it to let the love bomber back in. Cut him out. Then back in again to the point where you stepped over all your own boundaries, fucked him when you made accountability statements with friends and across social media platforms, and now you’re in the same position as before”. And at some level yeah it was. We had a fun evening and at some level it’s worth it to exist in fantasy land where I imagine us in a relationship. Because he’s the only person that has matched my level of weird/banter since I broke up with my last bf almost 2 years ago. But I also hate the fucking guilty gross feeling after when you realize that someone just wants to fuck you not love you and their words don’t match their actions. Even worse when it feels like they’re incapable of loving .. not just you, but anyone. Oh well. Back to the drawing board!

Also the funny thing is like, he told me he would disappoint me. And I told him I knew he would, but I wouldn’t be mad this time. And it’s true that I’m not mad. Old me would send a text now to be like SEE this is why I told you to leave me alone, because you come back in and you take and then you leave. But I knew he was going to do that. And he knows that I know that. Deep down I knew it would be the same. And I let him anyway. And that doesn’t need a conversation between the two of us to clarify. But I still find myself dipping my toe into a bit of delusion thinking “because I’m not gonna say anything this time, that will almost hurt him more”. And maybe it will. Or maybe it won’t. It probably won’t. If it ain’t the consequences of my own actions.

[sincerelybubbles]

Here's a dialogue prompt for Emily please! Try this out pls. Love you Kam sm sm. "So why are you here?" "To make a fool of myself." ok ty lysm

even though i watched u type this, the wording makes me giggle every time i look at it.

emily prentiss x tech analyst!reader <3

warnings: fem!reader, cannon typical violence, very brief allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens!), angst and fluff! mutual pining.

word count: 5.4k

Emily is the loveliest thing you've ever seen and you can't imagine how she could ever possibly like you back. She enjoys the game, though, and teasing you is her favorite hobby.

-

It’s a sunny day. Warmth trickles down with the scattered light through the leaves. Patterns trace your arms, throwing your skin into a collage of different shapes and shades. Leaning back on your elbows, you watch people mill about the park. You look back down at your arm after a few more minutes, this time focused on the small watch resting there. With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your pants before picking up the small blanket you laid out and tucking it into your bag. 

You walk back to work, enjoying the sounds of the people around you. You lingered too long at the park during your break and are hoping that nobody notices your slightly late return. Maybe the team will be in a meeting, gruesome pictures you never quite learned to stomach plastered on the board, entirely oblivious to your tardiness. 

Unlikely, but a welcome thought soothing your anxiety as you push the door open and scan your badge at the security desk. 

“Welcome back,” the security guard says, smiling at you over his paperback. He’s an old greying man and you vaguely recognize him. You think he’s new and send him a warm smile in return. 

“Thanks,” you glance at his name badge, “Martin!”

You walk past him and step into the elevator. “Wait!” A voice calls and you reach forward to hit the hold button instinctively before you register the voice as Emily’s. 

She jogs into the elevator with you, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, I’m already running a little behind.” She lifts a container and shakes it a little. The label is from the Italian bistro across the street, about a ten-minute walk away and always nearly triple that in wait time. 

“Brave of you to go there during your lunch,” you joke, returning her smile and pressing the button for your floor. 

You hope she can’t see how your hands shake as you reach forward.

“I know, I just love their Pasta Brado. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m boring, I usually go for the parm.”

“You’re not boring,” she says so earnestly that you can’t help but blush. You cough as an excuse to raise your hand to your face and hopefully hide it some. “You do have to try it, though. Here,” she offers you the plastic box. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. And I already ate.” You ignore the way your chest hurts a little at how enthusiastic she is. The worst part? She doesn’t even know how endearing her simple kindness, her casual enthusiasm, is to you. 

“Tomorrow, then. We can go together.” The elevator doors open as she says it and she steps out with an affirmative nod to solidify it. “Don’t try to bail out on me either, I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, feeling lame as you step out behind her. “I would love to.” She’s too far to hear you, though, already heading to Spencer’s desk and jumping right into his conversation with Morgan. 

Someone says your last name and you turn on your heel to see Hotch and cringe slightly. “I was trying to find you.” It’s a kinder way of him reminding you that you’re nearly ten minutes late back from your lunch. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine. Do you have the reports finished from last week's trip to Huston?”

“Yes, sir, they’re at my desk. One moment.”

-

You and Emily don’t go to the bistro the next day because she and the team are sent to a small town in Kansas that night. 

“I’ll owe you lunch,” she says, hand on the back of your desk chair and brushing your shoulder as the team rushes to the jet. 

“Don’t worry about it!” You reassure her.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” she calls over her shoulder, pretend-glaring, “you will try that Brado!”

And then she’s gone, leaving you giddy and breathless. 

You know she’s just being friendly – she treats Spencer, Morgan, and JJ all the same as you – but her efforts to spend one-on-one time with you outside of work still have you feeling like a schoolgirl passed a note from her crush in class. 

You try to remind your heart to stop singing because Emily probably isn’t even gay and definitely isn’t interested. Instead, Garcia scares the shit out of you when she interrupts your inner monologue. 

“Lunch with Emily? Things are getting serious in your work marriage.” You hadn’t seen her walk into the room and jump at her voice, hand jumping to your mouth to suppress a yelp. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s okay, didn’t see you.”

“Your loss, I look fantastic today.”

“As always,” you smile up at her, nose wrinkling and genuine fondness filling your senses. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want a workplace affair,” she jokes, leaning against your desk and picking up the stress ball you keep handy. 

“Stop,” you moan in good nature. “Nobody else calls us work wives.”

“That’s just because they don’t have my brilliance and excellent observational skills.”

“Nor do they have the same privy to my more personal thoughts,” you say, glancing up at her before returning to your paperwork. With the team leaving so quickly to tend to a missing child's case, you’re not getting home in time to cook dinner but are hoping to leave early enough to grab food instead of resorting to your freezer stash. 

“I would hope not. You know I can’t be replaced, baby.”

“Does Morgan know you talk to all your work besties like this?”

“I most certainly do not. You’re a regular bestie, not a work bestie.” A wink and then her expression sobers. “I do have an actual reason for visiting your humble cubical, though.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need extra hands for this case. It’s time-sensitive, as usual, and seems like it will be particularly tricky.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, dropping your pen and standing to follow her. 

Your position at the bureau is kind of a catch-all. Most of your time is spent logging data, building reports, and doing general research for the team. Occasionally, though, you jump in to help Garcia with real-time research. Nothing as high-stakes as her direct assignments, more background work. Calling offices to talk to managers, combing through more meticulous data, generic census material to rule out obvious dead ends. 

It’s stressful work that technically isn’t what you’re paid for but you never complain. Your team saves lives, consistently putting themselves in the line of danger. If you have to spend a few hours a month helping Garcia call a suspect's manager at McDonald's to see if he still works there, it’s literally the least you can do. 

“Yes, so, it looks like our unsub…”

You drown out Garcia’s brief about information you already have sitting in front of you and begin vetting possible suspects from the large pool her system created.

It’s going to be a long night. You think about future Brado to cheer you up. 

-

“Reid, Prentiss take the back,” Hotch’s voice fills your ears. You imagine the pair nodding and splitting off from the group. 

This is your least favorite part of helping the team with active investigations – listening in on the calls. It’s rare that you and Garcia join the line when they’re approaching the unsub but, with you helping her, it isn’t a risk to distract Garcia and a much quicker method of getting any new information the team needs. It’s a new system you’ve only tried thrice, unsure how having microphones on 24/7 will work, and it grants you and the team more fluid communication.

Still, adrenaline floods your veins as you listen to their coms, the sounds of Garcia typing a constant behind their voices, imagining every way this could go wrong. 

You suspect the girl is still alive, the uncle doesn’t seem to have any reason to kill her just yet, but your fear for her grows with every minute. 

“Clear!”

Your eyes fall to the receipts flooding your screen. Ammo. A new rifle and pistol. The team knows but the evidence of this unsubs ability to hurt any of your friends, your family, isn’t helping your nerves. 

“I think he’s going to the roof!” Morgan’s voice, clear in the comms. 

You click out of the documents. Two swift motions on the screen. The firm press of the button. 

“Morgan, you’re on foot. Prentiss, follow him. Everyone else in vans, go!”

“Garcia, map out possible escape routes from the roof,” you instruct. 

She nods, screens shifting immediately. She puts on her own headset with one hand and clicks on the call and starts to bark information to Hotch. 

“Got her!” Reid’s voice sounds and you deflate a little. He mutes as he begins to console the small girl. 

You know you can take off your headset now, leave the call, and go to your paperwork. There isn’t much more you can do to help – you’re sure that’s what you’re supposed to do – but you stay on anyway, listening. 

“Right on Elmore!” Morgan calls. You find the street on Garcia’s screen, eyes tracing the path you think they’re taking. 

“We’ll try to cut him off,” Rossi says and you can hear tires in the background of the call. The click of a steering wheel cutting to the side too quickly. Someone’s labored breathing – probably Morgan’s as he dead sprints. 

“Stop! Put your hands up!” Emily shouts. The firmness in her voice makes you sit up straighter in your chair. 

You hear something that sounds vaguely like, “bitch,” before a loud pop drowns anything else out. 

“Emily!” Morgan’s voice, more pops. 

Gunfire. That’s gunfire, your brain recognizes. 

Your blood has gone cold.

“We need a medic!” Morgan shouts. Hotch’s line blinks red, going dead as he calls the ambulance. “Emily, Emily.”

Rustling. Cars. Sirens. Morgan’s line goes dead after you hear a car door slam shut. Then Reid’s and Rossi’s. Emily’s is the last to stay green, blinking.

You and Garcia stare at each other as you listen to Emily be loaded into an ambulance. Listen to Morgan tell the team, voice far away and barely tangible, that the unsub only managed to fire out one shot before he downed him. 

Neither of you can hear where she was shot or how badly injured she is before Emily’s line goes red as well.

-

“Emily?” You call softly, rapping your knuckles softly on the frame of the cracked hospital door. 

Your name, faint, answers you and you take that as permission to nudge the door open. The room looked dark from the hallway but Emily has the small lamp embedded on the wall switched on, throwing her face into harsh shadow. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking in, arms full. “I brought things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, trying to sit herself up further and wincing as the motion pulls on her stitches in her abdomen. 

“Wait, let me help you,” you say, setting your things down and reaching out a hand. 

You wait for her nod before touching her, letting her grasp your arm and looping your other arm around the back of her waist to take most of her weight yourself. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. You can tell she hates feeling useless, hates needing help for something as simple as sitting up, so you drop the subject with a nod and kind smile. 

You turn around to the small rolling tray where you put your things down, pulling two black containers out from a plastic bag. You feel silly and very awkward as you turn around to show them to her. 

“I know it’s probably not quite what you meant but,” you set the containers down on her bed and pop one open. 

“The Pasta Brado! Oh man, I was going to treat you.” She’s pouting through a smile, attempting to put on an upset facade and failing miserably. 

It’s so cute that you struggle with what to say next. 

“Thank you, really. You can pull up that chair, if you’re hungry now.”

You grab the chair she’s motioned to and drag it to sit next to her. “I’m hungry if you are. It might be a little cold, though, it’s kind of a far walk.”

“You walked here?” Emily asks, tone appalled and face comically shocked. 

“Yeah, my car broke down last week. I’ve been walking to work – it’s actually really nice out right now – and I couldn’t find a cab from the bistro.” You busy yourself with the food while you talk, opening the second container, setting it on her legs, and unwrapping the plastic cutlery for her. 

“Jesus! You didn’t need to come and see me if you don’t have a car. You didn’t need to come at all, actually. I really appreciate it,” she amends, seeing how your bashful smile freezes on your face, reaching forward as if to touch your face and brushing your shoulder instead. “It’s really sweet of you but you didn’t need to walk all that way. Isn’t it like a twenty-minute walk from here?”

Over thirty, but you nod anyway, knowing it won’t help your case to correct her. “It’s not a big deal. You were shot in the stomach, of course I wanted to see you.”

“Ah, so you wouldn't want to see me otherwise,” she teases, nodding and pushing her pasta around with her fork. She doesn’t even try to conceal her grin. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You take a bite of your food and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you would love it,” she beams, watching your expression as you taste the food. You you she meant to say it in a gloating way but you swear you can hear a sort of fondness behind the words. Something in you warms at her ability to know you so well. 

You tell yourself you’re overreacting about both thoughts. 

“You were right – Emily this is unfairly good.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, taking her own bite and letting out an exaggerated moan, complete with an eye roll. You giggle and she smiles at you. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, holding her eye contact. 

She's been in the hospital for three days, transferred back to Virginia last night; her hair is unwashed and unbrushed, and she’s wearing no makeup and a hospital gown. 

She’s still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. 

-

Your car is fixed by the time Emily is released from the hospital two days later and you offer to take her home. 

“Hi Sergio,” you greet the cat brushing against your legs as Emily disengages the alarm. 

You set her things down by the door before turning to offer her your arm. Emily doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t need the help when it’s just you two, something you’re grateful for after watching her struggle with the team around, and lets you guide her to her bedroom. 

You set about making her comfortable, turning down her sheets and propping the pillows up so she can sit. 

“I’ve got it,” she laughs, playfully pushing away your hands. 

You laugh along with her, raising your hands and backing away. “I’m going to go put the rest of your stuff away and get you a drink.”

“Perfect, I’ll take an old-fashioned. Don’t forget the cherry.”

You roll your eyes at her, scoffing and leaving her room. 

You throw her clothes and go-bag in her laundry room before making her a glass of water and another glass of juice. Once you’re sure she’s settled in her bed with her book, you return to the kitchen to make her a few dinners, ignoring her protests. 

-

Emily is back in the field much sooner than you would have liked. 

“I was cleared by the doctors,” she tells you, coat slung over her arm as she digs through her bag for her badge. 

You smile at Martin, sending him a mock exasperated look, before she finds her ID and shows it to him. 

“It still seems too soon, Em,” you persist, reaching forward to push the elevator button and turning so you can lean back to watch her face. 

“Em?” Emily asks, the hint of a smile pulling up the left corner of her mouth. 

You sort of feel like you could die in that moment, just from the heat that simple gesture surges through you. 

“It just sort of slipped out, sorry,” you say, thoroughly embarrassed. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, throwing you off balance for a second. This doesn’t help your already flared nerves as you stumble back and drop your bag. You reach down to gather it and the files scattered across the floor. 

You’re kneeling to stuff everything in your bag when Emily crosses your line of sight again, wide smile on her face – teeth fully on display and nose scrunched, you are in desperate need of help – holding out your notepad.

“I think the nickname’s sweet. I kind of like the idea of having a name only one person, only you, calls me.”

All of the air has left this godforsaken elevator, the heat must be on, you stare dumbly at her as she reaches forward to grab your bag and put the rest of your papers inside of it for you. 

And then, realizing you look like an absolute idiot, you snap back into your body and cough slightly. The doors ding and open again, you grab your bag from her and stand slowly. Smiling at her, still crouched on the floor and looking, amused, up at you through her eyelashes, you say, “Okay. Thanks, then, Emmy.”

You walk away after that brief flash of confidence, telling yourself you’re just imagining how you swear her face flushed bright at your comment. 

And if Morgan mentions a few minutes that Emily seems flusters, well, who can blame you for floating on that high for a few days?

Except she doesn’t let it go. 

She corners you on your break in the kitchenette. Literally. She catches you when you’re examining the coffee pot that has been making concerning gurgles for the past few days and leans on the counter behind you, effectively blocking your exit. 

Not that you really want to leave. 

She’s wearing a red tank top and dark jeans, her hair is loose around her shoulders, eyes steadily trained on your face as you work. 

“Hello,” you say, quiet in a way you’re not normally. 

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask after a few more moments of her silently staring at you while you pretend to know what you’re doing with a screwdriver. 

“Enjoying the view.”

You drop your screwdriver and relish in the sound of her laugh. 

-

You’d love to say that you had some suave answer to return her charm but you think you spent it all that morning with your boldness. 

You’re not shy but confidence doesn’t run in your blood either. You’d say you’re pretty normal – average. You don’t find much wrong with that, you know you have other qualities that build you up into an interesting person. You love your friends and coworkers deeply, for one. And have an intense trust in them and their abilities. 

That trust is always tested in your day-to-day at work but never more than now as you feel the car around you make turns at highway speeds. You think you’re on some sort of back road but it’s hard to tell from the trunk given the obvious lack of windows. 

You’re calmer than you thought you would be if kidnapped. 

Groaning after one particularly rough turn that has you jostling against the sides of the trunk, you allow your head to thump back and stare at the inside of the dark car. Light breaks through the cracks of the hinges of the trunk and you wonder if water trickles through when it rains. 

You’ve been in here too long to consider if you’re focused on the wrong things. You’re scared shitless, of course, but the adrenaline faded about an hour into your drive and now you’re just bored. 

Imagine that – bored as fuck in the trunk of a stranger's car, wrists burning from the rope and jaw sore from where it’s been forced open too long by the fabric tied around the back of your head. 

You’re just allowing yourself to reimagine your morning with Emily when the car stops and the engine cuts. 

You snap back into the present, energy flooding your system again as your brain flicks into overdrive. You might spend your days paper-pushing behind a desk, but you passed your physical. You’re smart, you’ve heard the stories of how these victims survive captivity. 

When the trunk pops open, you squeeze your eyes shut to prevent pain from the sudden lack of light. You don’t want to be blinded and the action has the added benefit of pleasing your captor. He put a hood over your hood when he grabbed you, muttering in your ear in tense tones that you would do best to not even try to see him. 

Say what you will, you usually do a pretty good job at following directions. This one is easy and happens to be number one on your list right now – keep him happy so he keeps you alive. 

“Good girl,” a gruff voice says before a calloused hand gropes the back of your neck to yank you forward. Scratchy fabric envelops your head and your hot breath bounces back against you, trapped against the fabric of the hood. 

You stand when his hands start to grab your waist, pulling yourself to your knees and allowing yourself to be lifted from the trunk.

You want to run but know now’s not the time. 

“Look at how well-behaved you are!” His breath is wet against your neck. He stands too close, hands clawing under the hem of your shirt to cling to your skin. 

He walks you forward like that, chest pressed against your back and breath slithering down the collar of your shirt to hang uncomfortably over your collarbones. 

It’s becoming increasingly more obvious what this sicko wants from you and your stomach is twisting at the thought. You urge the team to hurry up, knowing your absence would have been missed ages ago. They have to be looking for you by now. And, with how sloppy this dude seems to be, he must have left a plethora of clues waiting to be found. 

You have to repeat this to yourself as you hear a door lock click. 

“Took you long enough. This is the girl? She’s kind of … well,” the second man kisses his teeth with a sharp sound. You’re pushed forward again. “Whatever floats your boat man.” The door shuts and locks behind you. The second man's voice fades as he talks, disinterested. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to feel slightly insulted right now. 

“This way, doll.”

You listen. It’s saving your life to be complicit in his directions, so you listen. Still, you’re shoved harshly to the floor once you get to where he wants you, knees striking what feels like cement. Before you can recover, your cheek stings and your head is whipping to the side from a sudden slap. 

Then, there’s a kick to your ribs. You fall onto your side, too winded to even cry out, lips falling open in a silent scream. A boot in your belly. Your ribs again, your hip and back. 

“Why?” You manage to sob out. “Why, why?”

You don’t get an answer.

-

You’re not overly religious but you thank whatever heavens or universe exists that he leaves you alone once he’s done kicking the shit out of you. Your ribs are bruised but the worst you expected hasn’t happened. 

The boredom returns as you lay with throbbing ribs. At least one is broken and every breath hurts. You can’t imagine sitting up and, luckily, with your hands tied behind your back, it’s not really an option anyway. 

It must be near an hour later when you’re fading out of consciousness – a purposeful choice on your part to save your energy – when you hear the front door burst down. 

“FBI! Hands where I can see them!” Morgan. You nearly weep but think better when your stuttered gasp makes your side throb. “What the fuck?” You hear shouted in reply. “Robb, what the fuck man.”

There isn’t much of a resistance from the living room. The second man is shouting at what you can only assume is the first – your initial kidnapper – but there’s nothing else other than that. 

“Clear!” You hear Hotch call. Spencer replies and then you hear the door nearest you open. 

His voice calls out your name. You deflate against the floor. A second, you know he’s scanning the room with his gun before holstering it. “Clear! I need a medic!”

Hands, gentle, against your face, removing the hood. Swifter after that, removing your gag, and then hand binds. 

“Hey, Spence,” you say, trying to smile up at him. 

“Shh, you’re okay. We’ve got you.” He starts to support your weight behind your shoulders and the pain that brings is too intense to prevent your yelp. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” You hear Emily ask seconds before you see her. She looks concerned, hair now in a tight ponytail and FBI vest strapped over her chest. She whispers your name once and then a second time, reaching forward to gently brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“Hey, pretty,” you say, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

“Hi beautiful,” she answers, reply just as soft as your own. Earnest. 

It makes your heart ache and, for the first time since being yanked off the road walking to grab lunch, you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, beautiful, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She repeats this as you’re lifted by the paramedics and cry harder. 

She repeats it when they stitch up where kicks burst the skin over your cheekbone open, repeats it as she trails a hand down your arm in gentle patterns while they examine your ribs and confirm that you’ve broken two, maybe three. 

She tries with you in the ambulance. 

You can’t help but think about being on the phone when you heard Emily be shot weeks earlier. You squeeze your eye shut as they insert the IV, beyond grateful that she’s there to hold your hand while they do it. The tear that falls down your cheek has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the thought that you couldn’t have been there for her in the same way. 

An odd thought, you realize, but it’s the one you’re stuck with as you drift away when the pain medicine enters your system. 

-

You’re sent home three days later. You insist on spending the night alone, afraid to admit you’re scared because, honestly, nothing much happened to you. 

Oh, of course, everyone tries to convince you otherwise but you know they’ve all had it worse. You were gone from the bureau for about eight hours and spent most of it bored. 

So you force yourself to spend the night alone. You don’t need help moving around or doing things for yourself so you convince yourself you don’t need help. 

You’re cooking dinner when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands with a dish towel and take your time walking to the door to look through the peephole. You don’t know who took you yet, you haven’t asked and nobody has said, but you can imagine seeing him through the door. Waiting for you, waiting to kill you this time. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Spencer was right when he talked about PTSD and usual levels of anxiety, but you’re so tired of him being so right all of the time that you really want to prove him right.

There is no man standing on the other side of the door, though. Instead, you see Emily, holding a plate wrapped in tin foil and looking serene in your apartment hallway. 

You open the door quickly, unlatching it and turning off your alarm with a few clicks. “Emily?”

“Ah, man, I was getting used to Emmy,” she jokes, stepping inside with a smile in your direction and kicking off her shoes. 

You can’t think of an answer so you just smile at her, hoping she’ll take the lead. You’re tired and she must see it because she offers the plate in her hands to you once the door is closed and the alarm is reengaged. 

“Rossi sent me with it with explicit instructions to not let you share it.”

You giggle and take the plate. “I’ll have to tell him thank you. It’s kind of out of your way to come all this way, though, isn’t it?”

“Not out of my way at all,” she says, words dripping with meaning as she holds your eyes. “I would have come even if Rossi didn’t have food for you.”

“So why are you here?”

“To make a fool of myself,” she says, casually, like that’s something people say every day, “probably. You’ve just gotten back from the hospital and I know you said you wanted to be alone, but,” she swallows and her words are becoming more rushed as she speaks, “I said the same thing and you still stayed.”

“Emily?” You ask, setting the plate down on your hallway table and clearing your throat. “Ah, Emmy?” You amend when she cuts you a look. Your attempt to diffuse the tension doesn’t work and she steps closer so you’re toe to toe.

“That doesn’t really answer your question, though. You’re sweet enough that you would let it go, but,” she shrugs, reaching forward to gently loop her fingers around your wrists. “Stop me if this is awful timing. Please,” she says, leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

You feel like you’re suffocating, but if this is death, you’ll greet it gladly in the irises of Emily Prentiss. You’re caught in the trap of the moment, heart hardly breathing, all aches and sores forgotten because Emily is leaning closer, breath fanning across your face. You feel intoxicated, ensnared. 

Everything that has ever been exists here, now, in this moment. Every breath used to blow out birthday candles and blow away eyelashes – breaths with purpose, with wishes, with intent – exists between the two of you as she leans closer and closer. Closer, still, and how can so much distance exist between you two when you’ve been standing so closely?

“Just, stop me, if you want,” she whispers against your lips, eyes falling shut. 

Time yawns again, freezing. Your eyes open, hers closed, beats of seconds pausing. Hesitating for you to hold this moment in your hands. You’re grateful to appreciate it because she really is so lovely. Her bangs are pushed back from her face with a headband – imagine that! Emily owns headbands! – and you can see every detail of her face. Her elegant nose, her slim eyebrows, her narrow, prominent, lips.

And then your heart finally catches up, beats loudly, cracks whatever fragile plane of glass holding the moment so perfectly still, and her lips are meeting yours. 

You gasp into her mouth, hands breaking out of her hold to grab her face. You’re afraid that she’s going to pull away before this kiss can be fully real. Before you can actually taste her – lemon cake and rain and warmth. Before you can memorize the feel of her lips pressed against your own before you can drag her closer and slip your hands into her hair. 

But she doesn’t pull away. She meets your enthusiasm with a sigh and then enthusiasm tenfold. You can feel relief in the kiss, feel how she relaxes into you. She takes a step forward and you take one back half the amount to account for it. 

A tilt of your head and it’s better, impossibly. She’s firm, sturdy, beautiful. Confident. Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

And then she reaches forward to hold you to her, hands brushing your ribs to wrap around your back and you can’t hold in the gasp of pain that causes you to stiffen. You want to take it back, want to ignore the pain, want to keep her near, but she won’t allow it.

“Oh, I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry.” You smush the apologies against her lips, removing one hand from her hand to guide her arms around your shoulders where they won’t hurt. “Okay! Okay,” she giggles, leaning back with several short kisses that do nothing to satiate you. “I need to know you’re okay.”

She can obviously tell she hasn’t hurt you too bad by your reaction, but the sweet caution in her voice has you melting further. 

“I’m perfect.”

[innorogers]

Lucid

Steve Rogers x Dark Past Reader (You)

Summary: Steve finds out about your past. You're nothing as he thought you were. You are better.

Warning: Steve struggling / Past revelations / You don't have to read this: Chapter 1 - Insomnia, but it would enhance the experience if you did.

What do you do the night you meet the love of your life? You spend it with to him—talking, hugging, kissing, teetering on the edge of going further... but it doesn’t matter, because one day, you won’t recall the specifics. Years from now, future you will think back to this night and remember only the magic you felt, the moments your heart skipped a beat, and the wonder of it all.

In the present, as the first rays of sunlight rise from the east and touch your face, you can barely keep your eyes open, almost drifting off against Steve’s shoulder. Once he finds out you’ve just come off a 13-hour shift, he insists on walking you to your dorm. And though it seems to take every ounce of his willpower, he refuses your unspoken invitation to stay. Ever the gentleman.

After a shift that handed you five hours of overtime, you managed to get immediate compensation—and even figured out how to maximize your sleep: you'll shower later.

So, after Steve kisses you goodbye for the sixth time, you finally close the door and collapse into your pillow. Though, to be honest, you’d rather be falling asleep on his chest.

Captain America, on the other hand, was more awake than ever. The last time he felt this energized was when they thawed him from his popsicle state. It was like walking in sunlight, and he half-expected some cheesy background music to play as he moved through the halls.

But, as always, fate was waiting in the corner to throw a punch and kick his perfectly peach shaped ass.

You were still on his mind when he stepped into the Level 0 – Avengers Only common room. You hadn’t left his thoughts since he said goodbye to you... thirty minutes ago.

To his surprise, Natasha was already there – she was never up before 11 – typing something into a computer - she was also never on top of her paperwork -.

“Oh wow, this is rare.” Steve was in a mood—no, actually, "mood" wasn’t the right word. He was still wonderstruck, wrapped up in his own bubble of happiness because of meeting you. 

“Haha, hilarious,” Natasha deadpanned without even glancing up. “Go ahead and laugh now, Rogers. One day, that ‘I’m from the 40s, I don’t know this shit’ lame excuse is not gonna to fly anymore, and you’ll actually have to do some of this.”

“Well... by then, hopefully our genius philanthropist will have invented something to take this torture off our hands,” Steve replied, handing her a cup of coffee.

Now he had her attention.

“Someone’s in a good mood…” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Alright, spill.”

“Oh no, not a chance,” Steve shook his head, grinning. “Not happening.”

But after a pause, he added, “Hey, we have full access to everyone’s records here, right?”

“Yeah, Level 0 clearance,” Natasha replied, still focused on her typing. “You’ve got everything on your phone. Why?”

Steve glanced at your name in his phone and tried to sound casual. “What do you know about an engineer?” He wasn’t entirely sure if that was your title—you had mentioned it, but he had only been paying attention to the important stuff (like your favorite ice cream, song, hobbies, and what you wanted to do this Saturday night…).

“You’ll need to be more specific. I need an ID or at least a last name.”

“Illithya Lancaster,” he said softly, almost smiling as your name left his lips.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha responded immediately, “the one that goes by ‘Twelve,’ right?”

That got Steve’s full attention. He sat up straight, frowning. “‘Twelve’? Is that a nickname?”

“Code Name 12. Subject ID HE0012.” Natasha continued typing as though she were battling something. “You know what that means.”

“No.” Steve’s voice turned rigid. “I don’t.”

The typing finally stopped, and Natasha swiveled around in her chair to face him. “H for Hydra, E for experiment, number 12. She was one of Hydra’s experiments, Steve.”

That was a bucket of ice water he hadn’t expected. Right to the spine. Steve took a few seconds to find his voice.

“What?”

“There.” Natasha handed him an iPad with all the information: “See, here she is. Um… mission rescue R804, Siberia… Sokovia… yeah, she’s on Hydra's top confidential list, one of the few we’ve got. Stark moved mountains to save her from rotting in a federal prison for eternity.” She spoke quickly as she read, her voice unusually soft, full of compassion.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to recall if you’d mentioned anything about a nickname last night, but he didn’t think you had.

He could barely think. His voice, distant and faint, whispered: “‘Twelve’? What… happened to the other eleven?”

Swiping the iPad, Natasha didn’t even look up, just shrugged: “What do you think?” She didn’t notice Steve’s face go pale instantly. 

“Illithya was the only survivor, barely. Used and discarded as anything Hydra could imagine… like something disposable.” 

She sighed. “I’ve seen awful things, but this is one of the files I try to forget.”

Steve’s mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t think, and the pain in his chest seemed to crush every fiber of his being.

He couldn’t believe it. You, his treasured little secret, his enchanted, magical midsummer night, this beautiful, pure soulmate he’d fallen with—the one who told him a fairy would bring him all the stars—had been used, abused, treated like a guinea pig, nothing more than a lab rat?

He was beginning to understand the emotions rising within every cell of his body: a mix of uncontrollable anger, sadness, and fear.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice wavered slightly: “...How… how long was she experimented on?”

Natasha set the file aside and looked him straight in the eye. There was empathy there. She knew Steve was shaken, so she softened her voice as much as she could, though her words remained honest.

“‘Till we got her? A lifetime. She was born and raised in captivity. Her entire existence was based on an experiment.”

Steve closed his eyes. It was more than he could bear. The pain he felt intensified with every word Nat spoke. 

He clenched his fists, veins bulging with rage. How could they. 

“How did you rescue her?” He found himself asking in a calm voice, as if inquiring about any other case.

“We didn’t. She escaped, and we found her. After you and Tony split in Siberia.” Nat pulled up the file again on the tablet and handed it to him, but Steve didn’t look. He wasn’t ready.

“So, until she got away…” Steve heard his voice, sounding unnervingly emotionless, and he hated it. “Was she under Hydra’s control her entire life?”

Black Widow didn’t respond at first. She nodded, just barely, while watching him. She was using the spy stare, reading everything beneath the surface, interpreting every unspoken word, every pause, every silence was a puzzle piece for her to figure out the entire picture.

“A lifetime under Hydra…” Steve whispered.

And he felt awful for saying it.

But there it was, a poisoned seed growing in the shadows of his mind. Steve wanted to bury it deep, but he couldn’t stop. 

The doubt crept in, spreading like a toxin—the thought that everything you’d been through had changed you.

How could you ever purge Hydra’s venom from your veins? Was it still there, lurking in every dormant cell, slowly expanding like a plague, consuming all the good, the magic, the purity in you? Corrupting you?

“Stop,” Natasha suddenly said.

She gave him a look Steve recognized—she was about to ask something that would make him think, really think.

After a deep breath, she spoke: “If you’re asking about her, it’s because you’ve met her, right? So, what do you think? Did she seem like a…villain? Or was she different? Special, maybe?”

Steve leaned back into the chair at her words, the memory of you filling his mind again, your innocence, your weird yet adorable responses, your naivety, your smile…You.

The touch of your hand, the softness of your voice, the pureness of your soul. The way you’d clung to him, spoke to him, trusted him, kissed him. He exhaled slowly, a ghost smile on his face. 

“No. I never thought of her as a villain. Or as any…negative. She was different, more than different. She was…she is…incredible…she’s wonderful…she’s…” Perfect.

Natasha remained in silence. Staring at him. Then she leaned up, her words like splashed ripples on the spring's surface. “Why do you trust Barnes, Steve?”

Her tone was calm and serene, yet it made Steve clench his fists. The question was unexpected, but not unanticipated—he knew she’d ask; she always pushed when she had that look.

“He was, or is, more Hydra than anyone we’ve ever rescued from those hellholes, yet you risked everything to save him.”

“That’s different. I know Bucky, he’s all I have left of my past. And he was brainwashed.” You weren’t. You acted, and you act by choice… don’t you? Steve panicked at the thought. Everything you did, you did with your heart… right? Everything that happened last night, was true…Right?

“So if she wasn’t brainwashed, she’s guilty?” A slight ironic smile tugged at Nat’s lips. “Even though she never asked to be born into a Hydra experiment, or to live in captivity. Is she at fault, Steve? For not trying hard enough to escape?”

Steve froze at her words, realizing what she was getting at. You weren’t brainwashed, no, much worse, you’d grown up knowing nothing of life outside Hydra. You weren’t just a victim. No. He thought of you. You were a survivor. A fighter.

“That sounded a bit protective.” Steve looked at his fellow Avenger, studying her expression. “Was it just a rescue mission, Nat? You don’t usually…attach to people.”

Letting out a laugh, Natasha returned to her usual mysterious, lazy smile. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.” 

She hesitated but finally spoke under Steve’s gaze: “She’s… different, Steve.”

A slight, warm smile crossed Black Widow’s face. 

“She’s kind…and good. I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s innocent. Her heart… it’s pure.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Nat’s words. He could hear the awe in her voice, and it made him think of you: The way you’d looked at him, the sparkle in your eyes. Tiny butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he remembered the way you’d laughed and how they took flight when he kissed you.

Without even realizing it, his voice became as tender as it could be: “Yes. She is all those things.”

“Like I said.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, her fingers returning to the keyboard. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”

LAB 278—it had taken some time to find.

Steve silently thanked Jarvis for lighting the way as he stepped into your lab—your private, secluded lab, hidden almost a 20-minute walk from the central facilities. Steve hadn’t even known this place existed on campus.

He pushed open the door and saw you through the thick glass. He couldn’t help but marvel as he took in the entire space. Your lab looked like a greenhouse, with plants everywhere—on the desk, under the tables, on the floor, shelves, and windows. Long curtains of leaves hung down from the ceiling like rain falling through broken glass. 

Large screens dominated the room, and then Steve’s eyes widened at what he saw next. 

An armory. Their. Armory. 

A bow being analyzed by lasers, prototypes of metal gauntlets, shattered helmets, and torn suits.

And then, he saw you.

You were cleaning his shield.

Everything fell into silence when his gaze rested on you. The whole place became a quiet green ocean, so still that Steve could almost hear the plants breathing. And his own heartbeat. That stopped when you lifted the shield and gently kissed it.

“Do a good job,” he heard you whisper to it. “Protect him. Keep him safe.”

Steve snapped out of it as those words echoed in his mind. He had a hundred questions, but they vanished in that instant. He wasn’t even thinking—he was reacting—as he stepped forward and opened the door.

The look on your face when you heard the noise and turned around was indescribable. All the tension in your expression softened, and the light in your eyes brightened. 

Steve wondered, how he’d been so blind, so stupid, to believe some reports instead of trusting…you.

“Oh. Hi…” You smiled, joy sparkling in every corner of the room.

God, that smile. The happiness in your eyes at seeing him weakened his knees. He spoke, his voice softer than he’d expected. 

“Hey...”

You almost run to him under instinc. Wanting to move closer, to take his hands, but…you weren’t sure. Was it too much? Too fast? What are you (or this) supposed to be? Are you even dating? Will he hate it? So, you blushed and stood still. “I…I um… I’m so glad you’re here.”

Steve noticed the way you flinched, the way you wanted to reach out but held yourself back. It made him feel…sad, like something was cracking in his chest. He wanted to reach out and take your hand. But he didn’t—not yet. 

Instead, he stepped closer, his voice gentle as he smiled. “…And I’m very glad to be here.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or if you were just lost in his eyes, but your mind was racing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out something dumb, like really dumb.

“I missed you.”

Oh, what the hell. You wanted to bite your tongue. Especially when you saw Steve freeze. Okay, that was stupid as fuck, you thought, looking down, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ll take it back, I’m sorry, that was stu—” But before you could finish, you were pulled into a tight embrace.

Steve pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, protective hold. As if he wanted you to melt within him.

He realized how absurd he had been for holding this back, how deeply he craved you. Like a primal longing, like a dying plant thirsting for a drop of dew, or desperate for air.

“Please…don’t be.” He whispered, pressing your head to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair, his eyes closed as he sighed. “I missed you too.”

“Oh.” You awkwardly ran your hands along his back, fumbling at first, before simply giving in and hugging him tighter. You caressed his neck until he rested his forehead against yours, exhaling deeply.

And you smiled. 

“So…you did find out, huh?”

He stood silently, with his chin in your shoulder. And after a while he said in a bitter tone: “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause you look exactly like Tony and Natasha did when they found out. And… because you’re in my lab. I mean, I don’t think this place is a hot spot, huh?” You laughed and broke the hug slightly, but he tightened his grip on your waist, unwilling to let you pull away. 

You caressed his face, inhaling the warmth of his breath, and looked into his eyes. 

"Steve, what happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

Steve froze. 

Isn’t it? 

Wasn’t it because he hadn’t destroyed Hydra when he had the chance?

Because they didn’t find out sooner?

Because… he wasn’t there?

You struggled to read people, especially someone you cared about, so when you saw the pale, stiff look on his face, you paralyzed.

Was that why he came? To tell you it was over? Well…to be honest, you wouldn’t blame him. After all… you were you, and he was… Steve Rogers. And you were…Hydra’s Frankenstein.

That thought must have shown on your face, because Steve noticed the change in your expression—fear and shame, like you were some kind of Quasimodo who had his mask ripped off.

The mere thought made Steve’s blood boil—the idea that he might reject you because of your past, as if you were to blame for things you couldn’t control. As you were…sinful and…bad.

He suddenly cupped your face and spoke firmly, the words echoing from his heart, the same words he should have said the moment Natasha told him the truth.

“Hey, hey… look at me. Look at me.” He stared straight into your eyes. "Don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt… us.” His voice was filled with protectiveness and anger. “I’m here, and I…” I’m falling for you.

“Do you regret it?” Your voice trembled. “Last night… do you regret… meeting me?”

“No.” His voice was steady and resilient, unwavering and unshakable: “Not in a million lifetimes.”

You held your breath for a moment, trying not to cry. Then spoke as you were telling a secret. 

“I always wondered…What would I have been like if I were… normal? If I had normal parents—a father working in a bank, a mom as a teacher. I’d go to school, go to prom, fall in love… have friends… but…” 

You pressed your fingers into his hand and smiled softly.

“… I wouldn’t change anything about my past, if that was the road I had to take, that leaded me…to finally meet you.”

Steve felt like he could’ve started crying at any moment. 

Your past had left a crack in his heart, something he could never fix, something that would always hurt. And yet, you said it was all worth it? All the suffering, all the pain… just to meet him? How could he… how could he deserve you? He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

“God…” he murmured, his voice filled with pain. “How can you say that… how can you still be so…” 

Kind. Good. Pure.

Natasha was damn right. You were everything she said, and more.

“Hmmm… Maybe…” You thought out loud. "Maybe I always knew I’d meet you someday, and I had to be good enough… to be… worthy.”

Steve exhaled, trying to calm the storm in his heart and mind. 

The weight of your words hit him hard. He paused for a moment before he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, as if that could protect you from all the misfortune or pain that might come in the years ahead.

“Damn it…”

His voice broke as he whispered.

“I can’t believe I found you…”

“Well then,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“Thank you for finding me.”

Time stilled for a moment, but before he could think, Steve’s body had already reacted, he pinned you against the workbench as his hand weaved through your hair, and his lips pressed yours in a deep kiss. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he needed you, wanted you, to hold you as close as possible, without letting you go ever again.

All the composure he had been trying to maintain disappeared the moment he felt you. 

Your lips, your tongue, your scent… Any sense of reason was hanging by a thread. 

He lifted you onto the desk, sending pens and books scattering to the floor, but he didn’t give a damn. Not when your legs wrapped around his hips and you moaned his name as his hand tightened around your waist.

“Jesus…”

The way your voice sounded, the way you were looking at him, the way you were sitting with your legs around him, everything was driving him desperately crazy, struggling to keep control to not to tear your clothes off and make you his right there. 

He broke the kiss before doing something reckless, but his body was tense, and his breathing panting. 

“You’re driving me crazy…” He breathes heavily, leaving a deep kiss in your forehead.

“What?” Your mind was still spinning from his kiss, and you replied without thinking: “Well yeah, welcome to the club.” 

Steve left out a laugh, All the intense revelations from earlier had nearly made him forget just how incredible your comebacks were. 

He looks down and kisses you again, this time with more tenderness than passion, and he speaks as he continues. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since I left you this morning…”

“Can you…” You could barely form a word without moaning: “Can you think…of taking this further?”

“…” 

That made him stopped. 

The suggestion sent a shiver down his spine. Oh you and your amazing comebacks. His mind suddenly flashed, imagining all the things he’d wanted to do to you, maybe in his room, in the bed, with you under him, moaning his name as you just did, only louder and louder…

Steve quickly shook the thought from his mind, trying to force himself back to reality. 

“God… please don’t tempt me.” He could feel his body reacting to his own imagination, so he pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists, trying to regain some control.

“I…” You wanted to say, "I don’t mind," or even, 'I don’t give a damn if you take me right now...You know what, there’s actually a bed at the back of this lab.' But then his phone rang.

“What the hell…” He glanced at the caller ID and groaned, “For gods sake, what timing…” One hand reached for the phone while the other held you firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, give me a sec.���

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of him calling you that for the first time, but before you could process it, Tony Stark’s voice echoed through the empty lab.

“I don’t know what you are doing there, Cap…And trust me, I don’t wanna know…but Jarvis just sent me a reminder, to remind you, that there are cameras everywhere in the working campus. Everywhere.” 

You could tell there was a humorous tone in Iron man’s voice.

“Even in remotely located labs for top secret employees.”

End but TBC-

Continue to: Chapter 3: Reverie

Alright, thanks for reading up to here. Hope you enjoyed it!! <3

So when I started writing Part 1, I was like, 'Oh, let's just write cute one-shots and short stuff.' And here I am with a complex OC and a struggling Steve. I'm so sorry for that :3 I just can't help myself!

Part 3 comes with 'the one night I made you mine and made you beg' thing I was hoping I'd finally get to. I promise! (Still have no idea how I'm writing that through my working shifts, tho.)

Okay, have a good one <3 Lmk if you liked it ? Report and everything is highly appreciated <3 :D

Love.,

Moon.

[aliregression]

Could you do a fic of where chirs slips in front of his brother's during a stream and they like.. laugh at him?? But then after words he goes to his room and your there and your comfort him

Stream Slips

Ship: Little!Chris X Y/n

Summary: Chris gets overwhelmed on stream and slips and Matt and Nick laughs at his “babyish” behavior

Warning: Mean!Matt and Mean!Nick, Nick hates chris stuttering?? (idk if thats a warning)

A/N: This is fan FICTION not fan truth- this is a fictional work.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Usally Matt and Nick understands Chris regression and often helps him whenever your not around. They love babysitting him! They were a little confused at first but then they got used to it and understood it helped Chris a lot.

Well, most of the times they understand.

Sometimes Chris regresses at the worst times. During filming, streams, meetings, ect. During those times Matt and Nick are mean to him and often say things like “grow up” and “stop acting childish.” Chris couldn’t help it! He gets stressed out easily and it just happens.

Which leads them to this moment, Chris had a stressful week with meets and filming and he has stayed big throughout the week even when he was so close to headspace. Which is why he is on edge now.

Matt suggested that they do a twitch stream for a few hours and play fortnight. Which Chris usually doesn’t mind. He loves fortnight and his fans! So its the best thing about his job!

They have been on stream for at least two ours and he was so tired already and just wanted to regress. The chat was going to fast, making his head hurt. The yelling and screaming caused him little by little to slip. Usually when he is in situations like this he is quite not wanting to sound “babyish.”

“Chris did you hear what we said? We are going to keep playing until we win.” Nick said and Chris nodded his head to show he was listening. “Can you speak up? Gosh the one time this kid wants to be fucking quite” Matt said in a snarky voice.

“Y-ywah tats fwne” Chris said trying his best (but failing) to sound “grown up.” He was looking at the chat and seeing that some people were commenting on it. “Kid speak like your a fucking adult. Your not a child.” Matt said and laughed at him.

“S-sorry” Chris said letting out some stuttering. “And quit the stuttering you werido” Nick said and just like that they moved on. Well not Chris, he sat their quietly playing this round and then telling them he call quits because you where here and wants to spend time with you. Which is true, just they didn’t need to know that he was in little space.

After the round quickly ended, thank god they won, Chris told the chat and his brothers that he calls it a night. To which they called him lamed but let him go regardless. Chris quickly hops off and runs (speed walk he knows the rules about running up/down stairs.) and to the living room where you where.

You usually are over at their house 24/7, which the boys don’t mind its nice to have someone that actually knows how to cook. You decided to stay in the living room giving Chris some space to stream alone. Which all Chris wants rn is you.

“Hey honey, wants up? I thought you wouldn’t be done for another few hours” You said wondering why Chris was with you early, which you didn’t mind at all.

“Mwatt awnd Nick meanies” Chris goes and lays down next to you. You moved to spoon him. “Oh honey, im here for you. Do you want to go to your room and cuddle?” You asked him and he nods.

Luckily for you Chris is easy to carry so you pick him up and take him to his room. You lay him down on his bed and then shut the door and goes and cuddles him.

You and Chris cuddle on his bed while you are playing his hair. You put on bluey for him since he loves it. As he is watching it he talks about the episode and his favorite characters just being energetic.

Anytime with you makes Chris day way better, even if its just cuddling.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

If this was bad im sorry its not proofread 😭

[two-sibyls-tall]

I bullet-point planned out a batfam fanfic aWHILE ago but I am Bad At Writing full-fledged stories so I’m going to just throw it out in the open here in the hopes that ya’ll will appreciate it, and also that mayhaps someone else who is Good At Writing will find it and make it.

So. Here’s my take on a Reverse!Robins Dimensional Travel fic.

Damian:

Starts off with Robin!Damian seeing a black-robed uniform that’s awfully similar to the League of Assassins gear. Which is. Worrying. to see in Gotham.

Robin!Damian sneaks up on him to figure out wtf he’s doing.

Nightwing!Damian, aka the black-robed figure, calls him out. Possibly even makes an offhanded joke about how R!Damian shouldn’t be wearing bright ass colors if he didn’t want to be seen.

R!Damian catches sight of the Nightwing logo on N!Damian’s chest and proceeds to demand who he is

N!Damian recognizes R!Damin’s pattern of speech and essentially goes “oh fuck”. Reveals himself as Nightwing, aka Damian Wayne.

R!Damian immediately thinks of the Heretic. He calls for backup in code via comm link.

N!Damian is on the same comm channel, so he hears the responses to the code even if he doesn’t recognize the code itself. He’s semi-annoyed and starts running

R!Damian is IN PURSUIT.

N!Damian gets yoinked back to hid own dimension

R!Damian meets up with Nightwing!Dick and says something along the lines of “the assailant disappeared but who tf was that.”

Jason:

It’s a couple days later now.

Red Robin!Tim has already started working on a multiverse-type theory and let Red Hood!Jason know, so honestly RH!Jason isn’t terribly surprised when he comes across a vaguely familiar vigilante beating the shit out of a criminal in Crime Alley.

New vigilante introduces himself as Redbird

RH!Jason goes across comms to ask Tim how tf he should be handling this shit?

Redbird visibly freezes up when RR! does the classic “no names in the field” chastise

RH!Jason straight up asks Redbird if he can hear the comms bc who needs to be subtle.

When Redbird confirms, he just sorta sighs and gives a code to O. There’s a bit of yelling while the team processes the possibility of compromised comms.

It calms down again, and RR!Tim is like “okay the evidence is pretty clear here if you ask me,, Redbird I think you’re from another dimension. Do you recognize any of us?”

Redbird is like “well I’ve only actually caught one of your guys’s names so far, but yes I. Know. a Tim. He doesnt sound like you anymore, though”

RH!Jason is like ‘hmm we’re gonna put a pin in that one for now’

Meanwhile RR!Tim is talking to Redbird about going to the batcave and also maybe running some tests to figure out where they’re coming from and what’s going on here

Redbird shrugs and mentions that this whole situation sorta seems like what his brother was talking about a few seconds before he jumped dimensions.

“Is your brother Damian Wayne, aka Nightwing?”

“Fuck. Yeah, that’s him.”

At this point RH!Jason connects the dots an goes “ah shit, you’re me aren’t you.”

Redbird!Jason gives the most dramatic eye-roll possible and is like “bro we went from Redbird to Red Hood? That’s so lame. Why’d we even change it.”

RH!Jason just looks at him. “No dude we went from Robin to Red Hood. because we died.”

“NEWS TO ME???”

They've been heading to the batcave during this conversation

They walk in and RR!Tim's already there and he's like "Jason stop freaking out mini you this is clearly a different universe he might not even die."

Redbird!Jason is completely frozen staring at (unmasked) Tim and just kinda whispers "Tim?" And then he gets yoinked back to his universe.

Tim and Jason look at each other and Jason's like "so that's definitely not a good sign for what happened to you in their universe, right?"

Dick:

Nightwing!Dick is in the Batcave w/ most of the family discussing the dimension travel shit when he suddenly feels like he's being watched

He puts the meeting on pause and the feeling increases and he just looks straight up and sees golden eyes staring at him from the rafters

The other Batfamily members in attendance also look up and go what !! the fuck !!

NW!Dick knows about the whole 'Haly's circus being a theoretical breeding ground for the Court of Owls' thing bc I said so, so he already feels like he knows whats goin on

before anyone can say anything he just clears his throat and says "Gray Son?"

Batfamily freezes in shock and the small child w/ gold eyes just tilts his head in recognition and then jumps down from the rafters w/ no hesitation

He lands right next to NW!Dick and stands at attention, and Dick kinda feels sick bc Talon!Dick is like 8 years old

NW!Dick looks at the batfamily and makes some joke of like "haha looks like it’s my turn for the alternate dimension encounter"

RR!Tim is already taking notes

Bruce's put it all together and he's like "fuck. Little you is a Talon."

Cue the batfamily losing their shit again

Talon!DIck is looking between all of them confused, and he notices Damian just deadlock staring at him, and he's like Oh!! I know this one !!! so he stares back

RR!Tim is like "okay fantastic, well between Talon and Nightwing!Damian I think I can confidently guess by now that their dimension is one where all of our ages are reversed. Hey Talon do u wanna confirm that."

Talon is Very Helpful and nods, and Nightwing!Dick is like "alright buddy do you wanna tell us about ur dimension"

Except Talon doesnt really talk but !! he does sign!! his big sister cass has been teaching him sign !!

NW!Dick is like “thats great!! I know sign!!” and he starts relaying info to RR!Tim so he can take notes while Talon talks

Talon tells him that Tim From His Universe (and Dick isnt going to unpack yet why Tim’s namesign is a T drawn in the shape of a smile) has also put together that they’re going to a different universe

He says there was a case that the 4 nightshift batboys were on (girls were working a different case, Batman is offworld) w Oracle leading ofc that was selling alien technology

he says the 4 nightshift batboys were hit w a beam that didnt seem to do anything, but Tim of His Universe thinks that beam just had a slower affect and is what’s causing this

He says his big brother damian was the first to just randomly disappear mid mission and it gave Talon a scare bc they were together at the time, so he just froze and waited for damian to come back

and when Damian did, he immediately relayed what happened over comms, and a couple seconds later Redbird wasnt responding either

at this point RR!Tim interrupts and is like “are u saying urs all happened the same day? bc its been like a couple weeks since NW!Damian came here and several days since Redbird”

Talon just kinda shrugs and is like “well keep an eye out for Tim Of My Universe next bc he was hit too”

At this point NW!Tim is like “hey bud. why u. Why u using that name sign for Tim?”

Talon’s is about to respond when he gets yoinked back to his universe as well

Tim gives a mildly hysterical laugh and is like “well that’s not foreboding at all!!!”

Tim:

RR!Tim doesnt actually notice when JJ!Tim comes in this universe, bc at this point JJ!Tim has figured it out as well and is like “alright well the kid hasnt been jokerized so why traumatize him if I dont have to”

but unfortunately JJ!Tim IS spotted by a random passerby who mistakes him for the Joker so the whole batfamily’s out soon anyway looking for him

Hood finds JJ!Tim first and is like “alright i got eyes on him and im in pursuit,, hes kinda dressed weird tho wtf”

JJ!Tim hears this over comms and is like ‘welp now or never’ so he talks over the comms too (while running from Hood) and is like “hey I might be in the wrong universe, any way I could talk to one Tim Drake”

RR!Tim is like “Fuck dude really. rn? with a joker breakout? this is a bad time”

JJ!Tim responds w like “ur telling me, dude, Im the one being chased by a homicidal maniac w a red bucket on his head”

“YOU’RE THE GUY DRESSED LIKE THE JOKER?”

“THE JOKER IS STILL ALIVE HERE?”

JJ!Tim does NOT take this news well and he stops running, Hood catches up but doesnt engage bc ur telling me this is Tim?? this is RR?? tf happened?? but he does relay over comms that JJ is laughing and it is freaking him tf out bc he sounds EXACTLY like the Joker so SOMEONE get over here before Jason goes full Pit Rage

RR!Tim does arrive and immediately recognizes his own features despite the green hair and green eyes and bleached skin and Absolutely Terrifying Smile what the FUCK happened

JJ calms down just enough to be like “Oh I get it. This universe is age reversal so it also changed who the Joker got, too”

Hood looks like hes about to be sick, Tim’s not far behind

JJ’s like “great! well I’m Joker Junior, occasionally known as Tim Drake, and in my universe I was brainwashed by the Joker, then killed him and myself!! but apaprently the universe wasnt a fan of that because then I woke up in an UNMARKED GRAVE and wandered around for awhile, got dunked in a lazarus pit, and am overall having a terrible time”

At this point NW!Dick and Robin!Damian are here too and they’re like jfc dude

JJ looks down at his wrist like theres a watch there (there’s not) and is like “alright well according to my calculations, I shouldnt be here much longer, since most of my time was spent hiding & then running from ya’ll in order to NOT have this confrontation but look how well that worked out. Anyway u guys should kill the joker,, who knows if he might get inspiration from my universe and torture little timmy over there,, anyway ta ta” and then he fuckin disappears

Red Hood is like “yep ok im gonna go murder a clown” and no one really moves to go stop him

[imaslutforcuddles]

ESCAPISM

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary | after being broken up with, you plan on being sad and lonely but others convince you sex just sounds too good not to drown in. You end up meeting someone at a bar, who you might just love forever.

words | 2k

warnings | smut (18+) oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pinv, DRUGS (don’t mix drugs and alcohol), substances, high sex, subby reader, drunk sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, little angst, self pity, breakup bullshit, swearing, sex jokes, bitches, arguments, mention of cheating, idiots in love, a little bit of a sad ending.

A/N | i have been living off of escapism and i couldn’t not write a fic about it, imagine meeting eddie in a hot and sweaty club... Reader is called bean as a nickname in this because it’s cute, don’t judge. Also, this has a platonic love circle with y/n, robin, and steve (although he’s not really brought up in this). Their like a lil family. I might do a part two if yall want. DON’T DO DRUGS KIDS. 18+ MINORS STAY BACK.

a little context if you care to listen                                                                          find myself in a shit position                                                                                the man that i love sat me down last night and he told me that it’s over

You shoved a box in his hands with tears streaming down your cheeks, “There. it’s all your shit, now fucking go.” 

He grunts a little but stays put, “You know i still care about you right.” 

Sighing you start to push him out the doorway and onto the cold, “Have a good life Jason.” 

You aggressively moved your hand toward the door signaling that he needed to leave, when his heavy body wouldn’t move.

Huffing as your eyes start to burn, 

“Just leave, never ever talk to me again.”

He stares at you longingly as if he hadn’t ended just fucked another girl.

“I’m sorry.”

You slam the door and smack your face in disgust, 

how could he have done this to you?

- Three weeks of sulking later -

Robin groaned, “Oh come on y/n! We have to go out and get some, or at least you. God knows how long its been since you’ve been eaten out!” 

Your eyes widened and you huffed, “Jesus Fucking Christ Robin! I’m fine!” 

She stares into your soul arms crossed and eyes squinting. 

Raising your hands in defeat you exhale the air you had held while having a staring contest with robin, “Fine, but i don’t need some random dude to make me feel better.”

Robin shrugged, “Ehhhh not sure about that, but you at least need some weed or something.”

You smile and snuggled deeper into your bestie, “Love you robin.”

She grins and looks over at you, rubbing your shoulders with her soft palms.

“Love you too bean.”

Nights with Robin had been frequent since the breakup. It would start the same very time too, you’d call sobbing about him or about your depression and she’d show up at your doorstep with open arms. 

Things would be so different without Robin, you can’t believe you have a friend as amazing as her. 

-

dumb decision

The next day you saw her, she came in with a wide mischievous smile and two occupied hands, holding with clothes fit for a prostitute. 

“Robin what the fuck is that?”

She shrugged, looking from the outfits to you. 

You grasp the thin fabric if your hands, it did feel really nice..

“A little something to cheer you up? We can look like hot chicks, maybe fuck, maybe get some free drinks.”

You hesitated, free drinks.. 

“Alright fine.”

-

and i’m out on the town with a simple mission,                                                        in my little black dress,                                                                                            and this shit is sittin

So here you are, sitting in the back of the club holding a glass of champagne waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet and fuck you into oblivion.

As much as you didn’t believe in fairytales, this might as well be one. 

You scoff as a girl in your ‘friend group’ makes some lame joke about being horny and ready to party, and Robin hands you a joint and leans down to the shared table you were sitting at to snort another line. 

You take a long hit from the shared joint, “This is so fucking depressing.” 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a slut.” 

Some other girl across from you shouts over the music blasting around you, 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” 

Your face starts getting hot, you did not leave the comfort of your house just to get hated on by some random friends that Robin met up with at a shitty club. 

“I called you a slut. I mean come on, you got cheated on. It seems like you were too slutty for poor Jason.”

She grinned and you took another long hit. 

Damn can this shit start working?

“Do you even hear yourself? Your a fucking dumbass. So stop running my energy your not even worth it.”

Her smirk disappeared as your face stayed unfazed and stoic Your getting fed up with these girls around you. 

How did she even know his name? Bitch probably fucked him too.

Grabbing your glass, you got up and headed to the bar for some more liquid courage.

“If the drugs won’t fucking cooperate maybe the alcohol will.” You groan.

Walking up to the bar you had almost wished you stumbled a little. To at least show your a little high, but no.

“What do you want?” A bartender grunted to you, if you weren’t so done with people’s attitude you might have actually cared that he was grumpy. 

“The strongest shit you have.”

He took a deep sigh and smiled, “I’m sorry i was a bit rude there,”

You shook your head, “It’s all good buddy.” 

He grabbed a glass and a bottle of what looked like a mix of Spirytus and tonic, you tut and grin. “What makes you so sure i wouldn’t like something sweeter instead of tonic?”

Looking up at you he chuckled, “You don’t look like a sweet type.”

Putting a hand to your chest you fake a sniffle, “I’m offended. I’m totally the sweetest person you’ve ever met,” you pause waiting for a name. He smiles realizing why you’re not continuing, “Eddie, my name is eddie. What about you sweet stuff?” 

“Aha funny, i see what you did there.”

When you finally tell him your name his face softens, “That’s a beautiful name, it suits you.”

Eddie reaches for your hand, “Would you like to hang out with me after my shift?” 

You squint your eyes, “That depends.” 

His face contorts, he’s confused. 

“On what sweetheart?” 

Smiling you put your other hand on top of his, moving in closer to him. “On how quickly you can finish serving everyone else and start serving me.”

You grin while he just stands there awkwardly, “You don’t understand what i’m saying do you?”

Eddie awkwardly chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not in the slightest.”

Smiling, you reach for his collar to pull him onto your lips. You feel him tense up but soon relax and kiss back, “You don’t have to kiss me just because I kissed you.”

He smiles at your concern, “Don’t worry,”

Leaning in as close as he can from across the bar counter, he pecks your lips again. 

“I wanted to.”

Watching him grin as he writes his number down on a nearby napkin and slides it over to you just makes you even more horny. 

“Text me, I get off at one.”

You tuck it in your bra and smile, “Oh, I definitely will.”

He nods and walks off to serve more people, “Can’t wait sweetheart.” and you watch him the whole time. You watch as his arms flex while tossing around drinks, you bite your lip as he smiles at other customers. 

You would have watched him the whole night but robin eventually found you staring, all alone and took pity on you.

“You look fucking depressing,”

Scoffing you get ripped from your spot on the stool, “I’m good right where i am robin.” 

You wish that you would start to slur your words a little. I mean, it would make sense after all the glasses of alcohol you’ve been inhaling.

“Alright, let’s get you home.” 

Robin may have come to get wasted, but she doesn’t want you to regret your decisions more than you already do now.

She slid her hands under your slick armpits and held you up by your waist, thinking that without her you probably would have fallen straight on your face.

 And yet, you were fine without her. 

Scoffing to yourself and shaking your head, you push her away. “Just because i’m not with him anymore doesn’t mean i need you to take care of me!” 

You could tell Robin didn’t expect you were somewhat sober, she thought you were just wasted like all her other friends. But she shakes off the hurt and surprise in an instant, she knows what you’re doing. 

“I don’t think that you should be yelling at the only person who’s here for you.”

She walks away with a huff and leaves you alone. While, you frown and turn away to look at eddie. Who is still serving anyone with the flick of a wrist. 

“Hey! Eddie.” 

He turns to you and smiles mouthing a hello back. 

When you wave at him to come over, he can’t help but feel a growing buz at the bottom of his stomach. 

“What can I help you with sweetheart?”

“Your shift is over.”

You watch the confusion fall over his features, “I thought it ends in thirty-” Smiling, you grab him by the collar and pull your lips to his ear. “Your shift is over Eddie.”

He almost purrs at the way your voice whispers his name.

~

You push him against his bedroom door and moan into his mouth, “Mfmh Eddie.”

Eddie smiles at your whining and flips the two of you around, pushing his groin to yours. The making out only stops for a second as eddie pulls at your shirt, you grin and help him take it off.

Harsh puffs are pulled out of your mouth when Eddie latches his lips to your throat, sucking red spots all over it. 

“Agh,” You pant and pull him closer to your neck, and push your center towards his own.

“I need you Eds.” 

He grunts and pushes you onto his bed, grabbing his belt and ripping it off his pants.

You start to drool watching him undress, his body was lightly toned but oh so beautiful. 

As you start to reach for his dick he stops you and sighs, “As much as i’d love for you to touch me, I need to be inside you.” 

He grips your dress and pulls it off you in an instant groaning at the way your panties were drenched in your juices. 

“Is that for me?” 

You whine and shake your head. “It’s all f’ you Eds.” Pushing your head back you moan as he puts his fingers on your clothed core. 

He chuckles and rips your panties off, pushing a finger in between your folds and huffing at how warm you were. 

“A-ah Eddie!” Your body shakes at the sudden contact, and he pushes the finger inside you making your eyes widen and back arch. 

“Mmh is my sweetheart sensitive?”

You whine as he sticks another finger inside, pumping in and out slowly. 

“Eddie more please!” You beg and plead as he just stares down at you with a smile. 

He nods and smirks, “Whatever you say sweetheart.”

Eddie moves closer to you and starts to lick your clit. You just about cum then, but continue pleading for more. 

“Please, please, please!”

Soon enough the licks turn into sucking and slurping. As if he was a man starved, Eddie eats you out like a meal. Your back arches even more when you start to feel a coil in your stomach building up. As if he heard you, Eddie sucks on your clit harder and it snaps.

Your body shakes and your thighs close around Eddies head as he continues licking you through your orgasm. 

Eddie then comes up for air, as he smiles and huffs. “Your pussy tastes fucking amazing.”

With a whimper you pull his body closer to yours and reach down to grasp his cock, “Need you.”

He almost growls as you pull out what you wanted most and stroke it, “Damn sweetheart, your hands are soft.” 

You chuckle and help position him so he can push in comfortably. 

When he does finally fuck you it’s slow and soft. At first, you thought it was just going to be sweet until he started speeding up and pushing in harder.

As you moan he just pistons faster and rougher.

“You like that sweetheart?” He grins when you moan loudly in response, not being about to give a worded answer. 

You can feel his shaft getting harder as he gets close to release. 

Eddie grunts and huffs, pushing as fast as he can into you. 

“Ugh sweetheart i’m gonna cum!”

He reaches down to your clit and rubs, as you writhe and squeal gripping his shoulders. “Oh, Eddie!”

The both of you reach your peak together, hands pushing against each others bodies. 

When Eddie comes down from his high, he gets up and grabs you a towel wiping his cum off you. 

“Here you are sweetheart.”

He smiles and gets in bed next to you trying to hold you close, but when you feel something other than lust for him you push away. 

“This was just a hookup, an escape. Okay? Nothing more.”

Eddie frowns, but nods moving away from you. After a couple minutes of silence, you decide it’s too hurtful to just stay when you’re trying to convince yourself you aren’t good enough for him.

“I think I should just go.”

[killsaki]

nothing compares ☆ there’s not a soul that can compete with the way shuji’s is forever intertwined with your own… but as you grow apart, he knows one day you’ll outgrow that mindset too.

hanma shuji x female reader.

2.8k words. | minors dni. | read on ao3.

cw / tw : unprotected sex, angsty exes with benefits, mentions of violence&wounds, weed, reader is called ‘girl’ a few times.

“oh fuck no.” you hear hanma laugh from where he’s reading your dms with ran haitani over your shoulder. “that’s what you’re into now, huh?”

“shu’.” you scoff, you’re only showing him the messages in the first place because he was so persistent on hearing who has been hitting on you since the last time the two of you called it quits. and after how you mentioned the way that the older haitani brother approaches you–and how it was such a waste because he’s so pretty–hanma just had to see for himself. “i can’t do the dry shit. he wants me to come on to him, that’s so–”

“why don’t you?” he interrupts, switching the sucker in his mouth over to his other cheek.

“because that’s lame.” you tilt away from your screen to look up at him, finding him already looking back at you with his eyebrows raised.

“you used to come onto me all the time.” a corner of his mouth starts to lift the longer you stare in disbelief at his lie.

“that’s such bullshit.” you shake your head, rolling your eyes as you fight a laugh. “you basically beg for me.”

“you said that like we fuck anymore,” he breaks the eye contact, twirling the stick of the sweet between his fingers. “either way you got the wrong guy, slut.”

“i should knock you in your shit.” you do laugh, dryly, with that, half from his audacity and the rest from how much you missed someone who throws punches while catching your own. something that hanma’s always done– something you look for in every guy because of him.

“i’d like that,” the bed creaks under his weight as he falls back onto his pillows, staring at you with a smirk on his face that makes your stomach flip the same way it always has. “make it hurt.”

“see?” you gesture towards him halfheartedly before turning away, attempting to starve off what you’ll fall victim to if you even look at him for too long. neither of you are to blame for the way the universe had lined up the meeting the two of you had as impressionable teens, how you both fell head first into each and became a living breathing piece of the other’s heart. “begging for it.”

hanma laughs under his breath, propping himself up on one of his forearms making the bed dip closer to you, drawing your attention just like you know he planned, slowly reeling you into him. “do you ever shut up?” 

you’re met with amethyst eyes that watch you so carefully, a playful expression that you know hides his anxiety of you possibly not leaning into him the way he’s trying to meet you there. you feel you heart beat so hard in your chest that it hurts at the thought of giving into him again. you know it’ll hurt just as much as the last time the two of you agreed to stop seeing each other when he gets into another fight that has him knocking at your door at three in the morning to patch him up while he refuses to tell you the details of why it happened in the first place.

you know you’ll start to stress every time he doesn’t answer his phone, that you’ll jump at the sound of every motorcycle hoping that it’s him on days that he disappears from your bed before sunrise. but you can also feel the ghost of the ache you’ve felt after every failed date, after you’ve talked to another guy for weeks just to meet up with him and hate everything about him. to search for every inch, every fiber of hanma shuji’s being in every single man that approaches you because to you, he’s the best there is–the only one for you. he’s defined what love is for you, in the way the both of you can bully one another between kisses, eat off each others plates even if you’ve got the same exact thing, how he’s the only person who has held you while you cried, the only one who has fought on your behalf. how intimacy comes so easy with him, how he can strip you down, from your hard exterior and your clothes. how he can make you so bare and honest for him in every way imaginable, how you feel so safe wrapped in him.

the old bed springs scream as he reaches over to his nightstand, tossing the now empty stick on the wrapper before leaning back and shrugging, telling you that it’s your move to make.

you swallow the lump in your throat before speaking, hoping your anxiety doesn’t bleed into your words. “you can try to make me.”

“want me to?” he responds too fast for you not to crack a smile.

you only nod, which he copies as he sits up and grabs you before you can fight back, making you squeal his name as he drags you up on his bed so you’re laid on his pillows. those which he clears from under you, leaving only one—not wanting to hear you complain afterwards how the angle made your neck hurt so he’s forced into giving you a pity massage like he has a million times before.

“didn’t i tell you to shut up?” his fingers gently dig into your cheeks, forcing you to look up at where he’s kneeled between your legs.

“i ‘dunno,” you lick your lips, staring at him as your heart starts to race from his touch. “did you?” 

“yeah,” he dips down, bringing his face only centimeres from your own. “but you’ve never listened though, huh?”

you can feel his small smile press against yours as your eyes close from the euphoric feeling that is his lips on yours. his kiss tastes like the cherry suckers he’s started to buy in bulk to avoid smelling too much like cigarette smoke around you, because he knows you won’t kiss him if it’s too strong. and hanma can handle a lot of things but you rejecting his touch, let alone his kisses, is not one of them.

he hovers over you, hand leaving your face to smooth over your clothes, wander down your side while yours start to twitch where they’ve fallen– needing to touch him too.

“lean up.” he whispers, not a demand but something you instinctively comply with.

lifting slightly, he quickly takes your top off, your bra following suit and you don’t have a chance for the oscillating fan he keeps at then end of his bed to turn your way so you can complain about how you’re cold before he’s stripping off his own shirt and pressing his skin to yours. hanma’s body heat encases you, and immediately your hands make their way to wrap around the back of his neck. one tangling into his hair while the other slides down between his shoulders, locking him in place—as if he would ever think about pulling away from you.

he breaks the kiss only to mutter for you to ‘lift your hips, baby’, so he can pull off and throw your bottoms to join where your other clothes have made the floor a minefield.

he sucks in a sharp breath before cracking a sly smile at the sight of you exposed, only for him. this time you do feel the cool air blow against you. your slick covered mound being to target, making you shiver as hanma chuckles down at you.

“my good girl,” his praise fans across your collarbone as he leans back over you, “how’d you get so wet, hm?”

“you know…” you can feel your chest press against his as your breathing becomes heavy all on its own. your body is trained to treat hanma’s touch like that of a savior, to offer everything you have to him—to make it easy for him to take what he pleases if it means you’ll be rewarded with him in the end.

you shiver as he drags his lips up along the side of your neck, “remind me.” 

your face burns at the thought of having to admit what he already knows, of having to say aloud that he alone can make you feel so blissed out just from fingertips and lips against skin.

“because it’s you, shu’.”

you feel the messy sheet tighten beneath your head, but the moment you feel it, it’s gone again. even the hand disappears, making it way down between your thighs. you lose any jabs you could’ve thrown as your lashes flutter from the feeling of hanma’s rough touch gliding through your folds. you can’t stop yourself from latching onto him again, arms tangle around him the second he starts to rub circles into your clit.

you’re so weak beneath him, only able to moan through parted lips and momentarily catch sight of him soaking in your expressions through blurry vision. it’s not until you start to chase his touch, start to babble his name that he pulls away, leaving you at the edge of what could’ve been an orgasm.

“shit, girl.” he hisses, adjusting himself out of your sight. 

“i’m girl?” you scoff weakly at his words.

“yeah,” he gives you a sly smirk that makes you want to punch him in the chest, but as he’s so good at doing—your fight dies when he sets the fire in your nerves by rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds. “my girl.”

your heart feels like it’s going to come out of your throat at his words, even through the haze of lust you know it’s wrong—unfair of him to say. but, everything in you wants so badly for it to just be true again, your entire being wants to belong to him.

you know that he knows too—that’s why he shushes you so softly as he pushes the head of him in. it’s why he rests on his forearms just above you, cradling your head as he kisses you so softly that if one were to see it, they wouldn’t believe it was him.

your body tries to focus on the stretch he gives, how perfect it feels, how right. how it already feels like you’re going to faint from pleasure, but your heart can’t stop the ache that his words give.

“my pretty girl,” he whispers between kisses, “my perfect girl,” his mouth moves, but not far—kissing down your chin and along your jaw as his hips start a slow pace, “my favorite girl.”

“your—” you hiccup without thinking—a push against your softest wall cutting you off with an involuntary moan—wanting to ask why ‘favorite’ when once it was ‘only’.

“mine.” he mumbles against your skin, making your heart squeeze yet again.

he pushes his hips against yours, pressing as far as he can reach making you squirm under him no matter how many times he’s done it.

“hanma.” you grit, digging your nails into his shoulders when he doesn’t let up, even as he groans from the pain.

his head pulls away from you, to look into your eyes, his own slitted as he glares down at you. “who?”

“move.” you ball up your fist to hit his back but he relents before you can make contact, and pulls out of you completely.

“fine.” he presses his weight against one of your arms, acting as if he’ll climb off you entirely.

“shuji,” you stop him with your hold, closing your eyes and letting out a shaky sigh. you regret agreeing to see him, regret coming over, regret letting your heart lure you back underneath him with all its longing, but more than regret, there is a feeling of need that you can’t shake. no matter who wants your attention, no matter what you’re promised, no matter where you are–your soul aches for him. you open your eyes to find his deep lavender ones staring back at you. your vision is blurry, cheeks wet—you wonder when the tears started to fall. “please, i need you.”

“yeah?” his voice is rough, before he swallows, bordering the dangerous line of desperation. “say it again.”

“i,” you start, using a shaky hand to reach between you and wrap around his cock, he lets you guide him back to where your cunt aches to be filled by him. “need you, shu’.”

his head falls into the juncture of your neck once again, hips pushing forward, driving any other thought but the way he makes you feel, physically, out of your mind. you can’t help but to squeeze around him, your arms tightening in time with the way your walls hug his cock—not a bit of you wanting to let him go.

“say you love me.” his voice vibrates against you, and you feel a shatter as you give in to him.

“i love you, shu’.” you whisper back, more tears blurring your vision and spilling over as you squeeze them your eyes  tight. your heart pours off your tongue as you give him everything he asks for. “love you, love you, love—”

“c’mon, baby.”

“shu’,” the back of your head digs deeper into his pillow, jaw falling slack for a moment as the knot in your stomach tightens. your voice cracks,, but you can’t even think of caring when you so desperately need him to—“kiss me.”

“shit.” he doesn’t waste another second before pressing his mouth onto yours, hips keeping their pace as he brings a white hot heat flooding through your veins. it’s almost immediate, the way his high follows your own. he groans your name against your lips as he fills your cunt with white, unable to deny the way that it milks him, begging for it.

as you both calm, you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the shortness of his breath against your chest. 

“it’s all those cigarettes.” you speak before you think, joking quietly. you half expect him to ignore your words, change the subject as not to admit you’re right. 

“huh?” he nudges you playfully with his nose. “what was that?”

“i said it’s all tho—ah.” he presses his now softening cock deep into your sensitive walls once again without warning, making you grimace. “fuck you.”

he laughs at that, and you mirror it, hands mindlessly massaging his scalp while you both catch your breath; for a moment, everything is normal, perfect, again. 

“i love you.” he speaks softly from above you, searching in your eyes in a way that twists something deep in your gut, and you have to look away. you unwrap your arms to push at his chest gently, hoping he’ll get the hint and get off of you. which he does, so achingly slowly pulling out from between your legs and away from you completely.

“wanna stay over?” he asks from where he’s hunched over on the side of the bed, likely reaching for his boxers.

you stare blankly at his back, making sure you memorize how badly your chest hurts in this moment so that you’ll remember to say no the next time he tries to goad you into seeing him. you shake your head when he turns to you. you attempt to stand from the bed to search for your clothes.

“you can at least smoke and eat then.” he offers, but it comes out more as a question, a plead.

you blink at him, a pit forming in your stomach that feels like is the perfect size for your heart to fall out of.

you know that one day, this will be over. one day he’ll be surrounded by more violence than you can handle, and he’ll find a woman who can. it makes you want to freeze time this very second, where he’s looking at you with a knowing little grin, but pretty eyes heavy with desperation to stay in your presence just a little longer. you want to pause this moment and put it in a locket so that in a year from now, when you are no longer in contact with him, you can remember what it was like when you still had him.

“you’re not gonna make me cook, are you?” you chose to grab his shirt from the floor instead of your own, pulling it over your head as an excuse to break eye contact.

“i’d rather not eat some burnt shit.” he tosses his phone to you with a hum, almost turning away fast enough that you miss his little smile. “you can order while i roll.”

maybe it’s a cycle doomed to repeat until the worst happens, maybe one day it’ll be three years since the two of you have even spoken. maybe there will come a time where you know nothing about his life, where he doesn’t love you anymore. and there will definitely be more pain, more tears, more yearning.

but right now, you can still spend his money on your meal that you’ll only eat half of before you steal his. you can wear his shitty shirt and smoke all his good weed. and for tonight, you can still hold him against you—and in this moment, that’s all he asks from you.

alternatively titled therapy.

reblogs + feedback appreciated/encouraged <3

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Exactly as you are

Previous chapter/ Next chapter

a/n I apologize for the wait but here is part four! This story is literally a part of my identity now. Once again thank you to my sunshine @brekkershadowsinger for being my beta reader and sifting through ideas with me! All the love is so appreciated!🤍✨

summary: when two broken souls meet something is bound to happen.

warnings: none? This feels wrong... past trauma, scars and I'm definitely forgetting something.

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Time. What a strange concept it is. We say that it takes a while for true feelings to grow. It takes a moment before you realize that you can trust someone, or even more, that you fully believe you know them. But then all the hard work of building can be ripped away and shattered in seconds. Maybe even less. So is it worth it? Is the work of building and cherishing worth it when it can all be taken away from you quicker than your heart could make a single beat?

You were sitting on the windowsill. The early morning sun kissed your skin, chasing the cold breeze away. The window was fully open. You had a thick, knitted blanket wrapped around you. Kaz's order - when he saw you sitting there with only your nightgown on. You hadn't left his room in the past couple of days, and Kaz was glad to give you a safe sanctuary to pick yourself up. He brought food up there. Let you look at the stars until most of the lights in the dregs were out. Just like after the first night, the bar hadn't been brought up. You knew that you could talk about it if you wanted to, but Kaz wasn't going to push you to do so.

You flipped through the last pages of your book. A frustrated huff left your lips as you pushed it closer to your chest, looking out into the distance. A light frown on your face. "What is it?", Kaz's voice made you glance over to his table. His head was buried in the papers that Jesper had brought up yesterday. He hadn't let go of them yet; some pages had permanent dents from where Kaz had held onto them for hours on end. You shook your head just as another sigh left your lips once more. "They didn't get a happy ending", you muttered quietly.

Kaz had gotten you that book. A lady had walked up to him in the middle of the street with a basket full of books. She pulled out a pretty old book in hardcover, "Find a home for it", she had told him, and Kaz was quick to drop it onto your lap, considering that you consumed anything and everything with letters on it. "Happy endings are overrated. Who is truly happy at the end of the day?", his words were distantly cold. Your eyes landed on him again. The funny thing was that you were feeling happy. Always feeling happy when you could finish your day up here with him. Happy when he would fall into light conversation with you. Happy when you would feel his presence behind you. Close enough to feel, but far enough to not be touched. Blinking a couple of times, you moved closer to the chest of drawers.

Kaz's eyes glimpsed up ever so slightly when you pulled the material off your skin. He often wondered if you felt his eyes on you while changing. He didn't gawk at you like a silly teenager. He loved your skin. Liked that harsh reminder of the world that swirled outside the slat. Kaz often thought about how it would feel to run his fingers through the deep valleys of scars on your back. He had grown to love that part of you so deeply, and so quietly.

"If…", you started, cutting yourself. Kaz lowered his gaze before lifting his head as if he was indeed looking at you for the first time. "Well, I was wondering if…", you muttered. Kaz dropped his pen. "Just get to it", he urged you, frowning slightly at his tone. "I want to go outside or at least downstairs, but…", your hands reached behind your back, quickly doing up a couple of buttons there. "I heard the girls saying in the street below that the apple trees are in full bloom. I've never seen one properly before".

How lame did it sound? A girl your age would probably walk through a tree like that without a second look. Most younglings ran around, climbing trees. Yet you never got to experience that. Sold after your first bleed, pulled, and shoved ever since. Locked somewhere deep within a house until you were needed. At best, getting to watch or see a tree or two through cracks in the walls. Kaz's silence felt like an answer in itself. He had grown even more protective after the incident, and at first, just being with him was exactly what you needed. But now it was starting to suffocate you.

"I have business in town till noon. I'll take you there after I'm finished", you just stood there, unable to help the surprised look that flashed through your face. The corners of your lips tugged upward ever so slightly. You wanted to let him know that he didn't have to. That you would understand. Maybe someone else would go with you, but now that he has offered… Your cheeks grew pink, and you quickly dabbed them, saying, "I'll be looking forward to that". You moved to wrap the silk scarf over your hair, fixing it neatly, and when you turned back around, Kaz was by the door, keeping it open for you."Oh, we're going now?", you questioned. "Aren't you hungry?", he asked bluntly, motioning with his cane for you to get going. "Just thought…" you said, but you shook your head, stepping in front of Kaz. Your fingers brushed against his arm ever so slightly as you moved past him.

Kaz slipped through the back door without a second thought. You did feel his hand lingering closer to the small of your back while you walked down the stairs as if he was there to catch you. There to offer support in case you fell or simply changed your mind and wanted to get back upstairs. But then, without you even having a chance to catch a second glance at him, he was gone. The warmth of him was replaced by the lingering coldness that now seemed to burn your back. You stood there for a moment. Just looking at the back door as if that somehow was going to summon Kaz back.

"Oh, Y/N", Jesper's voice made you turn around quickly. The genuine surprise on his face was hard to miss. Your eyes slipped to the plate filled with waffles that he was carrying, stomach growling lightly in begging for food. You wrapped your arms around yourself. The familiar unease returned to shackle your body. Wishing you were here, you let that thought slip through your mind. Not chasing after it, though, when it slowly drifted away into nothingness. "Come, join us. Everyone's been missing you", this time Jesper's voice had that comforting tone, the one that he always used while talking to you, followed up by a warm smile. He doesn't reach out a hand toward you. Aware of the impact a contact like that could have. You just nodded slightly, falling into the step behind him.

The kitchen seemed a lot lighter today. The windows were open, making the white curtains sway ever so slightly. Dancing in the spring breeze. Someone had bought flowers that were nicely arranged in a big vase. The sound of laughter and chatter made this place feel so much more like home. Who needed a fancy dining room if it would be filled with silence? However, it all died down when you came from behind Jesper's back. As if the ghost had lingered in the place, sending a shiver down everyone's backs.

You lowered your head. Scared to meet everyone's faces. As if you were meeting them all over again. But that fear didn't get to linger for long as you felt two hands bringing you closer to someone. A familiar scent filled your nose, and you were brought into Nina's embrace. She was the most affectionate of them all. And it was a big statement considering that Jesper and Wylan were rarely apart. But she thrived on it. Fed on it and consumed it with all that she had. "I am so sorry, you can't imagine. All this time, I've been blaming myself. You do know that I would never…", she burst out, tripping over her own words as she pulled away from you, wanting nothing more but to meet your eyes. "It's okay", you muttered, squeezing her hands. Nina's face froze for a moment, her mouth gaping slightly. "You should probably breathe because your heart might stop", you urge her sheepishly, yet she just shook her head as a smile crept onto her face as well.

You always liked blending into the background chatter that mingled around a table filled with food. Not knowing why. It just felt calming. You could observe. Be there, but also always able to build a wall between yourself and everyone in the room. Having a chance to watch the four of them was something you became so attracted to. Missed it even during your days up at Kaz's room. It was a sense of belonging. Even if you didn't want to participate in the talking, they never missed a chance to double-check that you had everything, whether you wanted seconds or a drink. It was a sense of warmth. A smile and loving words. Something that you didn't get any of before you came here. A sense of family. Knowing very well that if you reached out, you would never be denied. Never be left alone.

So without even thinking, you leaned to the side. Pressing your head on Jesper's shoulder. His hand instantly embraced you. "You're tired? Want me to walk you back up?", he asked you softly, but you didn't trust your voice, shaking your head ever so slightly. He dropped his hand from your side, leaving you enough room to pull away when being close to him got too much. You wanted to thank him for looking after you and for always being so patient, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do so. Looking up at him, you wondered if he knew. Knew how much it meant to you to have someone like him. Jesper's eyes met yours as he pulled his attention from the story that Nina was telling. Pushing a strand of hair behind your ears, he gave you a lighter smile, winking before turning back to the rest of his friends.

"Soo…", Nina spoke up when you all had finally finished eating, and the dishes were washed and dried. You continued to fold dried clothes without acknowledging her curiosity. "Cone on now, you and Kaz", Nina said, wriggling her eyebrows. Abandoning the pile in front of her as she stepped closer to you. Flopping down on one of the bench. Perching her head on her fist as she beamed at you.

"What about me and Kaz?", you asked her, as if you indeed had no clue what she was referring to. You expected it. Well, no, you expected them all to first go to Kaz or not bring it up at all for that same reason. You knew that the fact that you had been calling for him for hours upon hours had to mean something.

"He cares about you", you quickly blinked a couple of times, dragging yourself out of your thoughts as Nina nudged you once more. "Well, yeah", you trailed off, moving to pick up another basket, "Just like he cares about all of his investments". Nina's hopeful face was quickly dampened by annoyance as she rolled her eyes at you. "Oh, wonderful! You even sound just like Kaz now", she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. The silence fell upon the two of you.

She had been eyeing you up during breakfast, so you weren't all that surprised when she asked you if you wanted to help her tackle the laundry. Nina was one curious woman, more than ready for a sprinkle of gossip. Her heart was pure. You know just as well that even before you spoke to her, she always made sure that you felt a part of their group. So if you were to join her, she always talked. Talked without taking a moment to breathe at times, and it brought you some comfort. Her voice kept your attention.

"You two talk?", she tried again, and you couldn't help the silent giggle that slipped past your lips, "Nina, is this an interrogation?" She let out a frustrated growl. Struggling as much as she usually struggles with Kaz when he indeed joins everyone for dinner or lunch. "No, no, just…", she was quick to defend herself. "You two seem like two broken pieces who ended up piecing together and…", "So you needed help with laundry?", you cut her off quickly. For some reason, it felt weird.

You didn't want to talk about anything that was happening in Kaz's room. Mostly because you didn't know what was happening. It didn't have a label. It wasn't something you could measure. Yes, things had shifted. There were evenings when you lay in bed together, just looking at each other. The first time Kaz climbed in to lay beside you, you probably looked redder than a strawberry. It was just that—laying and looking. Seeing. You've never been with anyone in such an intimate way. The world around you drowned out. Just you and him. Kaz would slip away after you'd fallen asleep. His fingers trace the side of your cheek or resting over your palm for a heartbeat. But nothing was ever verbal.

"Fine, don't say anything. I feel it all anyways", Nina said, standing up with a huff and swirling her hand in the air as she returned to her pile of laundry. "You feel what?", you frowned quickly. Surely, she couldn't feel you two from Kaz's attic room. Could she even distinguish it? And what was there to feel? "Nothing, nothing, an investment, and the owner", Nina smirked at you before dropping her gaze. You stood there for a moment. But with a quick shake of your head, returned to folding.

Kaz was frustrated. Even that didn't cut it. The anger in his veins was starting to burn. Nothing. No matter what he did or who he threatened, nothing led him any closer to the males in his bar. He simply didn't understand. How could someone just appear out of nowhere? No leads. Nothing to hold onto. As if that was the main point. As if the assault wasn't the main thing, the chaise was what was supposed to drive Kaz insane.

"Polina would have liked this", you muttered, eyes closed as you sat with your face turned to the evening sun. Kaz was desperate all day. Desperate to walk back and take you to see the blooming trees. He knew this was going to be his lifeline. Something that would keep him in check. And it was. The way your eyes nearly filled up with tears as you took the whole field of wild apple trees in. White and pink petals fall gracefully from time to time. He watched how you carefully reached up to touch them. So gentle as if you were to hurt them somehow. How you had turned to beam at him, how you had smiled. You. How was anyone able to take one look at you and want to harm you when all Kaz wanted was to protect and cherish you?

"Your sister?", he asked, and you nodded your head. You had never talked to Kaz about Polina. But you weren't all that surprised that he knew who she was. You fully expected Kaz to have done a background check on you, and at times it made you wonder - what did he know? What had he managed to find? And if he knew everything, why had he not said anything yet? But you never dared to. Clinging to the hope that Kaz had only gathered some of your backstory, not enough to uncover it all.

"Yeah, I feel like Jordie would be here sketching this", Kaz motioned with his cane to the rest of the field that stretched out in front of you. The setting sun was slowly starting to paint everything a golden gleam. Kaz felt stupid the moment these words had slipped past his lips, but there was no turning back, and the way your eyes had softened at that moment made it painfully aware that you understood his longing.

"Thank you for this", you muttered, turning your attention fully to the male sitting by your side. It was such a weird thing to see Kaz sitting on the grass, leaning against the tree. He looked his age here, not some dangerous gang owner who everyone feared. Kaz only hummed, closing his own eyes for a moment. You bit your lip as you watched him, and then your body was moving before you could even think about it. Leaning closer to press a feather-like kiss onto Kaz's cheeks, pulling back straight away.

His eyes shot open. Big eyes as he took in your rosy cheeks. The urge to pinch them between his fingers and kiss you was all Kaz could think of, but he shoved that thought deep down. Suffocating it with his own hands until it lay lifeless in the back of his mind. The switch in his emotions set you off as well. The flushed cheeks ran pale, and you turned away from him, rubbing your fingers together. "We need to head back. I need to work some more", Kaz stood up first, moving to walk even before you were up.

You had slipped into your quiet self upon returning home. Nina had tried to joke around about how you and Kaz had returned together, but your face only dulled at the mention of that, so she quickly changed the topic. Kaz went out once more with a harsh slam on the door, and all you could think about was how your actions had made him upset. You thought about asking Nina to check on his heartbeat to see if she could read out some of his emotions. Anything that might help you settle your guilt. But you had decided against it, knowing that this would be a breach that Kaz would never forgive.

When everyone fell into an easy conversation downstairs, you slipped out, heading back to Kaz's room. You debated whether you should be taking your bedding to the room that was initially set to be yours. You wondered if he was still going to talk to you tonight. Or come lay beside you so you could apologize and promise to never do that again. That you had just been craving his touch because he had started to feel so much like a haven, and your body was just seeking out the comfort he brought you. Your eyes feel upon the chair that lay pushed over. The papers were spread out all over the room. Some were even on the bed. You picked them up, turning them over in your hands, before an idea sparked in your head.

Kaz didn't have a reason to be walking through the streets so late, but his mind was moving so fast that he felt like he needed to move his body too, or he would explode. Even in the cold evening, nipping at his skin, all Kaz could feel were your warm lips. It felt like a flash of lightning. So quick you could hardly catch it at the time, but evident because it had set his whole body in overdrive.

He had to apologize once he got back. He had wanted to do that before he walked out. The moment he saw you sitting by the table downstairs, looking at the wall in front of you. But the moment he wanted to step in, Nina had walked up to you, hosting you up so you would help her with dinner. Your lips. The soft touch of them against his skin. Kaz wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel the drowning fear when you leaned in. Maybe he simply wasn't expecting it, or maybe his body was able to tell that it was you.

Yet his desires faded the moment he opened the door to his room and found you piling up the papers that he had left there prior. No. No. You didn't just… "What have you done", Kaz rushed in, looking all over the room. All the mappings of the information that he had been working on for days. Everything that was supposed to lead him to the males at the club. "It was all messy, I thought…", your voice was so small as you quickly let go of the files in your hands, stepping away from the table. "Who asked you to do this?", he rushed over, ripping the drawers open and sending some of the papers flying, "You stupid… thing. I was this close!"

Pulling a pile of papers, Kaz quickly sifted through them. There was once again no order between them. A harsh slap on the desk made you jump back. "Kaz…", you crocked out; this was supposed to be way different. All you wanted to do was help. "Get out", he pointed towards the door, and you let out a cry straight away. Never before had he pushed you away, no matter the frustration or the meeting he had with the crows, but here you were. "Get out; I don't want to see you here ever again", his words cut into your skin. Your lips trembled, but you still lingered. Hoping that maybe. Maybe he would change his mind. "I said get lost, or are you deaf now too?", you shook your head. Stepping out of the room, close the door behind you carefully.

You quickly rushed down the stairs, hand covering your mouth so you would suppress the sobs threatening to slip past your lips. You had no idea where you were supposed to go. Could you still stay here, somewhere in the house? Or were you supposed to get out here fully? You caught a glimmer of four crows, all standing by the arch that leads toward the living room. Faces drenched in confusion. No doubt, they had heard the yelling from upstairs. But you couldn't take it. Couldn't take pity. The smothering that came with comforting someone. So you leaped towards the door, ripping it open as you slipped out into the night.

You strode as if you were in a daze. The streets were familiar to you, but with all the emotions running through your body, it felt more like you were floating. The hot tears stung your eyes as you turned to get away from the main streets. You needed to find a place to lay low. Something. Anything. Till he calmed down. Till you could say sorry. But just as a night in the club, you felt it before it happened.

Someone grabbed you from behind just this time, instead of someone lingering to breathe down your neck, you felt a cold blade being pushed against it as the person pressed you closer to its chest with the free hand. "And the bird finally flew into the trap", your whole body went cold as the male's voice filled the dark alleyway. You knew that you should have run because the grip he had on you wasn't firm, and if you were smart enough, you might be able to turn just enough to avoid him slicing your throat fully open. But you couldn't move; your body was as firm as a block of ice.

"As quiet as I left you. No one taught you how to chirp?", the sick feeling twisted your guts. Something within you cracked, awakening the spark within you. Yet that wasn't enough to fade out the fear when you felt the cloth being pressed over your face. You tried to push it away, scratching your nails against the male's hand, but it didn't seem to give you any advantage, and as the black dots filled your vision, the only thing that made you petrified was that you knew who that voice belonged to and that you had hoped to never see that face again.

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Kazle Dazle taglist: @igakc @anxiousbeech @vicky-09 @coldheartedmar @teigo-the-explorer @whos6claire @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters

[togrowoldinv]

A Meeting of Fate

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

You meet an intriguing woman at a bar. It turns out that she’s very important to someone you know

Note: This is an au including some of my favorite characters. It’s really quite soft. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

You never find yourself in this position. Out with friends at a bar on a late fall night. But here you are with your friend Kate beside you at the bar and the others waiting at the booth for you to return with the drinks.

“Y/n, that woman is totally checking you out,” Kate nudges your shoulder to look in that direction.

Your eyes search for any that might be looking for yours. What you see is a beautiful redheaded woman who makes eye contact with you as she takes a shot. Your pace quickens as you tear your eyes away from her.

“Surely she’s not looking at me.”

“She is definitely looking at you. You should go talk to her,” Kate tries to convince you.

“Absolutely not. You see her, right?” you ask. She looks over your shoulder and smiles when she sees the redhead walking in your direction.

“Looks like she’s making the first move,” Kate says as she walks off with your just delivered drinks.

“What?” you ask as you turn to follow her, but you’re met with a steady hand on your arm. You look to see the redhead offering you a kind smile.

“Excuse me, is this yours?” she asks, holding what is definitely not your jacket in her hand. You notice how raspy her voice is and it makes your first sight attraction to her increase exponentially.

“It’s not. Thank you though,” you manage to reply.

The redhead then looks at you in a way you can only describe as shy. Her eyes drop a little and her cheeks turn a light red that you can see in the bad bar lighting.

“I’m sorry. It’s my jacket and my friend convinced me to come talk to you and make some lame pickup line about how this jacket could be yours, and I now realize how stupid this sounds so I’ll just go,” the woman rambles.

“That’s actually kinda cute,” you say to ease her worries.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to flatter me,” she replies. “Have a good night.” She turns to walk away, and you reach for her arm this time.

“Wait,” you say. “Join me for a drink?” you surprise yourself with your boldness. But the way she tried to use a cheesy way to pick you up makes you think she probably has a nerdy, shy side just like you.

“Sure,” she replies. You two sit on the barstools and order drinks.

“So, I’m y/n,” you tell the woman.

“I’m Natasha,” she says.

You two talk for a while and the conversation actually flows pretty easily. You think you’re really hitting it off when Natasha’s phone rings. She ignores it at first, but when it rings again, she apologizes and excuses herself.

“How’s it going?” Kate comes up to ask you while she’s gone.

“Uh, I want to marry her,” you joke, and both laugh. “But really she is extremely captivating, and I hope she likes me.”

“I’m sure she does,” she says before she leaves you to wait for Natasha.

The stunning redhead appears beside you again, but this time with a disappointed look on her face.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I have to go. It’s a work emergency,” Natasha explains.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you try to convince yourself more than her. “You gotta go save the day, huh?” you try to soften the blow.

“Something like that. I’m a surgeon,” Natasha says. So, she’s beautiful and smart.

“You really are saving the day then.”

“Just one kid’s, but it’s worth it,” she replies with a smile. Your heart swells at the idea of her working with children. “Can I get your number? I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

“Yes, and I don’t want that either,” you say. You exchange phones and numbers.

“Until we meet again, y/n,” Natasha says. She quickly kisses your cheek before she loses courage and with a smile, she disappears out the doors.

You grin at your phone when you see her number saved with the simple contact name ‘Nat.’

You rejoin your friends Kate, Peter, and Kamala. They tease you about your connection with Natasha until you all decide to head back home. You’re not surprised when you get home to see Kate’s friend, that you’re convinced is not just a friend, waiting for her by the door.

“Hey Yelena,” you greet her. “Goodnight to both of you.”

“Night y/n,” the blonde replies.

You get ready for bed and lay down as your mind drifts to thoughts of Natasha. It makes you giddy to think about the way her voice was so raspy and at the same time it was soft. And the way her red hair cascaded to her shoulders and her soft lips that pressed against your cheek.

It’s been a few hours since she left the bar, and you wonder if it’s too soon to text her. You don’t want to be a bother, but she seemed to genuinely like you, so you pick up your phone and type out a message.

Hey Nat, I really enjoyed meeting you tonight. Hope the world saving went well!

Before you can overthink the text, you hit send and wait for a response. You start to drift off to sleep when your phone dings.

It was nice meeting you too, y/n. And it went flawlessly if I do say so myself. Check this out…

You smile at her text and watch as the bubbles tell you she’s continuing to type. You hear a swoop as a picture of Natasha smiling with a small girl flashes on your screen. She looks absolutely adorable in her scrubs and lab coat.

That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Clearly Dr. Natasha has some big fans

You’re the cute one, y/n

Please… can I see you again soon?

Saturday night?

Saturday night it is. Goodnight Nat!

Goodnight, y/n. Sweet dreams

You go to sleep with a huge smile on your face as you continue to think of Natasha. The few days before Saturday pass quickly thanks to you spending a lot of time texting with Nat. You talk about anything and everything with her and send each other photos of you doing random stuff. She is almost always in her scrubs at work and you love the sight.

What you don’t expect is a call from her on the morning of your date. You answer it still a bit groggy from sleeping.

“Hello,” you mumble into the phone. Natasha smiles at your morning voice.

“Hey y/n. Did I wake you?”

“Not at all,” you say. She chuckles and you love the sound. “What’s up? Are we still on for tonight?”

“Absolutely. I just wanted to call you and work out the details. I get off at 4, so I could pick you up about 5? Is that too early?”

“No, that’s sounds perfect. You’re doing surgery today?” you ask her.

“Just a few consults at the clinic. I volunteer a couple Saturdays a month,” Nat explains.

“Aw, you’re sweet,” you say. You can imagine the blush on her cheeks. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“Me either, y/n. Have a good day and I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” Natasha asks.

“See you then,” you say.

With that you two hang up the phone, and once again you are sitting in your bed and smiling about Nat. You clean up around the apartment and get ready for your date. You don’t know what Natasha has in mind, but she seemed excited about it on the phone.

When the door rings at ten till five, you go to answer it.

You open the door to see a smiling Natasha standing there with a bouquet of flowers. She is wearing a black dress that makes your knees threaten to buckle.

“Hey, come on in,” you tell her.

“Thanks, y/n. These are for you,” she says, handing you the flowers as she steps into the apartment.

“They’re beautiful Nat. Thank you,” you reply. You take the flowers to the kitchen and put them in a vase.

Natasha leads you to her car and the two of you fall into a conversation about your respective days. You admire how Nat speaks of her work and of her patients. And how she closely listens when speak about your life and passions.

She takes you to a nice restaurant and refuses to let you pay the bill. You let her win, but only with the promise that you’ll get the check next time. She smiles at that.

On the way home, Natasha offers you the aux chord and you play some of your favorite songs. She even sings along to a few of them that she knows.

When she pulls into you apartment complex, she offers to walk you up to your door.

It’s just like a movie scene as you fiddle with your keys in anticipation of the next move.

“I had a great time tonight,” Natasha says.

“Me too.”

Nat moves closer to you and her hand caresses your cheek as she leans in for a kiss. It’s nothing short of perfect as her lips move against hers and you both have to break the kiss from smiling too much into it.

“Come inside?” You ask her. “We can watch a movie or something?”

“I’m in,” Nat says. She holds your hand as you open the door and walk inside together.

What she doesn’t expect to see is a familiar face sitting on your couch.

“Natasha?” Yelena’s voice asks.

“Yelena? You- how?” Natasha looks stunned. You and Kate share a look of confusion.

“What’s happening?” Kate asks.

“She’s my sister,” Yelena explains, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of Natasha.

“The one that you got separated from as kids?” Kate asks her.

“Yeah,” Natasha answers this time.

Yelena stands up from the couch and crosses the room to stand in front of Nat. You watch on.

“I missed you so much,” Yelena says as she crashes into Nat with a giant hug.

“I missed you, sestra,” Nat replies as she hugs her back. “I tried to find you.”

“I tried to find you too. I guess I should’ve looked into my friend’s girlfriend,” Yelena jokes.

The two girls sit on the couch and explain how they got separated in the foster system when they were young, and how they didn’t have any way of finding each other again.

“Well, this has to be one of the craziest things I’ve witnessed in my life,” you say.

“Me too,” Kate adds. “I guess this means we are dating sisters, huh?”

“Oh my god I knew you two were dating!” you say excitedly.

Kate blushes as she grabs Yelena’s hand by her side. Natasha takes yours once again.

“So, how about that movie?” Natasha asks.

You turn on a movie you’re sure everyone has seen before and the group of you spend the night talking and catching up together.

And years later when Yelena and Kate are the maids of honor in your wedding, Yelena thanks you for reuniting the family in her speech.

It’s happily ever after in more than one way.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @wandasbb @be-missed @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @mythosphere-x @readings-stuff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @milfloverslut @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @wandassitcom @ggrangerdanger @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @mortallytremendoussandwich @xxromanoffxx @peanutbutterprincess @karmasgxrl @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @exhaustedfangirl @when-wolves-howl @natashalovers @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @sammi1642 @jujuu23 @the-night-owl-blr @strangegardentaco @avatarsnips @romanoffswoman @natashasilverfox @imthenatynat @sayah13 @harleysincairo @rach2602 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @lovelyy-moonlight @huitzilinthebudgie3 @juicyy444 @natblackwidow2 @youralphawolf72 @btay3115 @red1culous @lenam07 @randomwriter1021

[plantoyoon]

New experiences. part 1

I am writing this because I'm actively thinking about it and writing it seems like it would help to get it out of the depths of my brain. (I think I mostly wrote it in second person, haven't proofread it, I don't know how much sense it makes)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Synopsis: You need someone to help you with your needs

Genre/Tags: First time meeting, Friends with benefits, maybe soul bound

Mostly inside talks, then some fluff, not much action though... it will follow soon

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This is the most stupid thing you’ve ever done! An improper way to say hello, but if you're actively thinking about me in your goblin ways, please stop! Message sent.

Voice 1: Why have I done this? Should I delete the message? I still have time... but I'm sure he already saw it. Why isn't there an answer? Am I being that insane?

Voice 2: Well, probably yeah... because you just sent a text to a dude you stopped talking to more than a month ago. In a kind of crazy way. Let's cover it up for a bit, shall we? So I know that in those periods of talking or not talking, he told you that every time you texted him, he was always thinking intensely of you. Given the kind of relationship you had and the person he was, it was smutty thinking. I might sound like I'm actively judging, but it was the same for you. Texting him when you were so close to touching yourself or after, depending on how needy you felt that day. Therefore, my insane message!

Alright, he's typing... Typing... still typing...

You're a nervous wreck at this point, still uncertain if you should delete your message. That would be even more insane now!

"Hi! Maybe I am. Would that be so wrong?" came the answer, dry and flirty. As he usually does, but the lack of honesty bleeds through... he would usually write more, not be that mysterious.

"Not wrong, but..." In your usual style, you overthink what to write next. Should you say: "Yes, stop! I need to work, not think about you," or "I miss your hugs and you," or "I am a dumb thing who needs to get her shit together. Sorry for writing!" But you don't. Your fingers go flirtatious and say, "Not wrong, but I know you could do better than just manifest me into your couch."

"What do you mean?" The conversation feels strained, but you go further in your stupidity and inquire, "Text, ask, and receive." Wow, so bold! You clearly don't recognize yourself; it's like you never left being his go-to friend with benefits for six months.

Looking at the messages, your mind starts thundering with anxieties. Did he get a girlfriend? Is he upset? Does he hate you? Does he think you're so lame for texting him like this after the last time he refused your meeting request? You wisely put your phone down, put on some music, and close your eyes, trying to ground yourself for a moment... Why did "Drowning" start playing? The universe is aligned with your personal saboteur.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You drowned in a similar moment in your life, having the same urges and desire for connection. It was hot outside, the AC being your only hope, but it was an old one... so there was still a need to lay like a starfish on the bed to properly cool off. But your life was another thing—working part-time, doing this and that, and just focusing on your health, hobbies, doing some sports, painting... you know, trying to enjoy life.

According to your friends, you lacked a boyfriend. You denied it strongly until recently, when all those couples' activities started to creep onto your wish list. The fact that all the novels you were reading also contained a relationship here and there put even more pressure on you.

But as much as you'd like to stick to the novelty of it all, the reality was simple. You were horny, and your hands and toys couldn't keep up with your appetite anymore. So you did what every girl not in her right mind does... went to dating apps.

You said to yourself: We're just doing some friends with benefits, not a relationship, so we can be as picky with looks as we want.

So you set up your account and started swiping. Lots of lefts, until someone caught your eye... Dark hair, fair skin, an artistic pose, and another one in the mirror with a camera pointed towards it, where his hands seemed like the main attraction. Long and elegant fingers, yet strong with prominent knuckles. Have you ever had a thing for hands? you ask yourself.

Swipe right and matched. Oh, that was fast, considering you made the account less than half an hour ago.

You try with a bit of conversation so you wouldn't be the direct asshole you usually are. You had prior experience with dating apps, so you expected the conversation to drift quickly to the action part. But this time it didn't. The conversation was quite smooth and cute, getting to know each other, talking about photography. As enjoyable as the conversation was, you had a purpose, so for the first time, it was you who moved the talk to meet and fuck.

Always a smooth talker, but this was your moment as a weird robot who suddenly had needs and needed to focus on her purpose. After a few hours, you managed to have him at your door, inviting him in and playing the part where you present your house with him complimenting the size of your apartment.

He is cute, you thought. Longer dark hair, dark eyes, whose emotions played between curiosity and reservation, and dark clothes. You definitely need some wine to gain your confidence in this situation.

"Wine?" you ask, at which he confirms while checking out what was running on TV. It was a Star Wars series that you've been watching recently. You've kept it running in the background for some months until now, so you kind of forgot to change it to some music or something more appealing. The atmosphere between you two was a bit strange, not knowing what to say, what to talk about. He seemed uncomfortable. You cringe for a moment, but who would have thought that Star Wars was your saving point because the awkwardness disappears as he starts to talk enthusiastically about watching that as a teenager, his memories around it, and the impact it had on the world. Of course, he enjoys Star Wars; now it feels less intimidating.

The conversation runs smoothly and a few hours go by unnoticed, laughing, talking about random aspects of films and how life correlates to them. It felt nice and natural to talk to him, sharing quirky thoughts together and even throwing some jinxes in there. At this point, even though you were still horny, you would have been happy with this night. You notice the wine left in the bottle, so you pour all the remaining content into the glasses and drink it. You feel how this last sip got you more dizzy, and you feel more comfortable with the silence and just look in his eyes with intent. He reflects the lust simply and surely, getting closer to you, placing both hands on your hips, closing the distance between you two while slowly pecking your lips. He feels smooth, his lips perfectly matched over yours. His perfect hands start to move on your body, his fingers pressing harder into your skin. He takes a breath to look at you with big eyes for a second then crashes his lips against yours, his tongue licking your lips eagerly and you grant access, slowly feeling out of breath and dizzy of desire.

The way his tongue dances with yours feels completely like him, balancing between assertiveness and shyness, between wanting to engulf you and protect you. You're having so many emotions in this moment, that it's starts to creep on you that you just met today. I think he senses something is clouding your mind, slowly pulling away from the kiss to look at you, caress your hair with one hand and cup your cheek with the other. The look of understanding he gives to you, brings so much reassurance and makes you take the lead in the following kiss.

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[sommerregenjuniluft]

21. dystophian au + 69. flirting under fire + (platonic) rosestarkiller because i'm practicing writing them meeting for the first time

this is the continuation/same universe as in the rosekiller prompt @casstration gave me<3 [1k words]

Regulus presses himself against the wall, dagger held tightly in his fist right in front of his chest and he strains his ears to listen.

All he hears for a moment is his own shallow breathing and then it’s there again, a faint breeze of a whisper, growing louder each time and Regulus swallows roughly.

He squeezes his eyes together, tries to get his breathing under control and tries thinking of what Sirius would do in this situation, what he would tell Regulus. It’s no use though, Regulus is much too scared to string together a proper thought let alone think about the comfort of his brother in the absence of him. He just had to go and get himself severed from Regulus, all thanks to that bloody James. If Regulus lives the day to see him again he will slit his throat personally.

First, he has to make it out of this grocery store alive though and for that it is adamant he know if there are cranks in here and if so how many.

Another hiss, much closer and Regulus grates his teeth with the effort not to make a sound. That is until he realises the resemblance of a proper word, coherently strung together syllables of a name.

“Pandora.”

Cranks can’t speak can they? At least not this clearly, right? Do they even have the mind to disguise themselves with something like whispering?

“Pandora, are you here? It’s Evan.”

Regulus’ heart is rabbiting away from him inside his ribcage, pounding wildly against the inside of his sternum. How many days has it been since Regulus had encountered another living person? How many days have gone by since he’d lost his brother?

It’s risky, naive Sirius would say, to lean around the corner of the wall and take a peek at the newest arrival, but curiosity wins out. Or maybe the desperate yearning for another human. An ally. Safety in numbers.

Regulus licks his lips, clasp around the handle of the blade so tight his fingers start to ache and then he peers around the edge.

There’s a boy around Regulus’ age it seems, tall but lean, thin it seems, with bleached twists and a hoodie that looks fully intact and clean. “Damnit, where the hell is she?” he whispers. Another full, lucid sentence. There’s a holster strapped to his back, all of which Regulus sees for now, thankfully, no chance of being caught.

That’s of course until he turns abruptly.

Regulus rips himself back around the corner, pressing himself against the wallpaper and trying everything in his power to keep undetected, pulse thrumming wildly in his arteries.

His breathing stutters out in a breathy exhale and he feels his lower lip start to wobble. Fuck– fuck.

What if he was wrong. What if the boy is another infected, what if—

“Hello?”

“The fuck you think you’re doing, Rosier?” A new voice.

“There’s someone.”

“You– since when are we adamant to going around and making friends with just anyone? What did you even see, for all you could know it’s a crank, you—”

“No, Barty, someone,” Evan insists. “Trust me?” 

The conversation makes Regulus untense gradually, the more certain these guys aren’t a danger to him with every more piece of dialogue he witnesses. There seems to be a pause of silent arguing before, eventually, someone sighs.

“I feel like we always end up here. Why is that?” voice deadpan.

“You know exactly why, Crouch,” Evan responds, grin evident in his voice and then there’s a sound like…a kiss?

It makes Regulus blink a few times, frown furrowing his brows before he quickly dismisses it, taking a deep breath and stepping around the corner of the wall.

The second boy that Regulus hadn’t seen before wipes a sleeve along his cheek, the one to be Evan is still grinning crookedly before his eyes snap back to Regulus.

“Hello,” Regulus says lamely, white knuckling his dagger.

Evan opens his mouth but the other boy, Barty, beats him to it. 

“Who’s the current president of the United States?” he inquires, eyes narrowed.

Regulus squints his eyes back at him, crossing his arms. “There is currently none, according to our current situation,” Regulus answers, pointedly letting his eyes wander around the visibly ransacked store, “If you’re asking for the latest though, that would be Joe Biden.”

What’s with the weird question? Maybe they’re not as in their right mind as Regulus thought.

Evan whacks Barty against the chest, making him huff out a breathy laugh before he zeros right back in on Regulus, teeth pointy with his lopsided smirk. “I like him, we can keep him.”

“Oh, how very gracious of you, Bartemius, too bad no one asked for your opinion.”

“You wound me, goldilocks. All I’m ever doing is look out for you and this is the way you pay me, with scornful disrespect and—”

“I’m Regulus,” he interrupts, eyes darting around, still on guard. Maybe his senses are playing tricks but Regulus could have sworn he’d heard something. How these two have made it all these months without getting harmed when bickering like this at such a volume seemingly continuously is a mystery to Regulus. But alas, maybe they’re simply lucky. And Regulus could definitely use some of that. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to join them.

There’s a rustle in the second of silence in which none of them are speaking and they all freeze. Regulus watches as the two boys instinctively meet eyes, a pang in his chest that makes him think of his brother, before Evan swivels to Regulus to soundlessly wave him over.

It feels easy to go. Regulus swears he’s featherlight as he closes the distance between him and Evan and Barty step for step until he’s crouched in the aisle with them, waiting for further movement.

They smell neutral to clean, a soft whiff of shea butter wafting off Evan’s hair and Regulus hopes to god the tiny rest of toothpaste he’s used this morning is still doing its job.

When there’s no sound for a while Evan twists back to him, voice serious, expression calculating, “Have you been bitten? Scratched?”

“No,” Regulus answers truthfully, “and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Oh, but how can we trust the word of a simple stranger?” Barty butts in, grin widening, “Shouldn’t we undress him and search for the truth of his statement ourselves?”

Evan growls displeased and Regulus’ shoulders draw up defensively, “Thank you, but it seems you two got the undressing each other part covered.”

Barty’s jaw drops open around an amused grin, eyes blitzing, while Evan makes a choked noise, whipping around at Regulus with wide eyes.

It was a shot in the dark really, a vague guess off of the earlier interaction Regulus had all but overheard, not even witnessed, but it seems he’s hit bullseye and the corners of his mouth twitch with it. Seems their luck is already subbing off on him.

“Okay, correction, I really like him. We are going to keep him.”

Evan elbows Barty so forcefully in the ribs the pale boy wheezes.

[filmorgue]

Flint and Seth strolled into the main hall, where they spotted a cluster of students huddled together. Flint recognized the group from orientation and made his way through the throng to reach them.

D: Hey, there you are!

R: We were searching for you!

F: Funny, because I distinctly remember you two abandoning me. Traitors!

Laughter erupted, followed by their apologies.

R: Looks like you’ve made a new friend!

F: Indeed! This is Seth. Seth, meet the crew: Rhiannon, Daphne, Leona, Mack, and Xen.

S: Great to meet everyone! So, we’re all freshmen here?

D: Seems that way smirks.

F: So, did you all discover anything interesting today?

D: Not much. I hit the library and found some fascinating books about the magic realm, even for seers like me.

R: I chatted with a few teachers. I think I might dive into alchemy and poisons. A werewolf with sorcery skills? Call me a hybrid!

The group burst into laughter, and then Leona chimed in.

L: That sounds awesome! But I’m keen on joining some clubs. What do you think, Mack?

M: I suppose I could consider it.

X: While you all are busy with your clubs and learning, I’ll be focused on serious stuff. I want to become the ultimate duelist!

Mack crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, while the girls giggled. Just then, another bell rang, followed by someone clearing their throat.

H: Welcome to all freshmen and returning students. I trust that you find this initial orientation engaging as you embark on your semester here. For those of you who are returning, you are already familiar with the expectations, and I eagerly anticipate witnessing your achievements this year. However, I sincerely hope we do not encounter a recurrence of last year's incidents. The faculty and I will be monitoring the situation closely. Freshmen, you have been provided with a guide and a map detailing all Filmorgue facilities within the mortal realm. Additionally, your accommodation details and the courses you will be enrolled in this quarter are included.

Tomorrow is designated as a free day, so I encourage you to take advantage of this opportunity to finalize your course selections before classes commence. Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact any headmaster. I wish you all the best for a successful year filled with exploration and learning.

A hush fell over the room, signaling that Mr. Hellstring had finished his speech, and soon a booklet materialized in everyone's hands. The audience began to murmur among themselves as some started to drift away. Flint glanced at the magical tome and realized that she was primarily enrolled in basic beginner courses. More like "So you wanna know magic 101" aspect not quite hands on. I guess being mortal you have to start the lowest of the low.

F: Not even one potion making course, lame

D: I think it's common for folks that can't...wield magic plus it's only the first quarter.

R: You have plenty of time to learn the more "difficult" stuff

F: Yeah yeah *rolls eye*

X: Alright I'm ready to check out this housing before all the good rooms are taken

Before he could take one step towards the door, two jerk powered through the crowd and bump into him causing him to fall on the ground

R: Hey watch where your going idiots!

?: Pfft, you're fault. Shouldn't have been in our way

Leona growled under her breath but Mack hold her back.

L: You losers could have also walked around us. There was plenty of room

?: Where's the fun in that?

They smirked before going on their way out the exit. Mack bend down to offered Xen his hand for help

M: You know when I said you'll get your comeuppance. This isn't what I had in mind

F: Are you okay Xen?

X: Pfft, of course I am. Jerks just caught me off guard

L: Well no school is completed without bullies. Ugh so high school

D: Everything was going so well

R: Let's not worried about those idiots, we should all start getting settle in while we still can

The group made their way towards the exit.

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Chapter 7 "Comeuppance"

Rhiannon (@sadraccoon061), Leona & Mack The Starnes (@invisiblequeen), and Xen (@xstardustbatsx)

previous/next

[silent-sanctum]

Entries from the Sidelines - Jotaro x Reader

Synopsis: A series of journal entries from a random student that is simping over you, not knowing that you were no longer free to date thanks to one menacing delinquent.

November 14, 1988

You won’t understand it at first but there are 2 things that are currently taking over my life right now.

The first one is weird and that’s me being able to see… ghosts? Demons? Spirits? I don’t know but I see them sometimes on a few people and they can do stuff. And then there’s my ghost.

Yeah. Yeah, I have my own personal ghost and I’m not sure if me having one is wackier or others having one is. Though gotta say my ghost is pretty lame and useless compared to the rest. It’s just some sort of magical keychain that doesn’t do anything but transform into ordinary stationary.

But enough of that, there’s still the second thing.

I have a crush. Like a massive crush on this girl who’s my classmate and former groupmate that one time.

Her name’s Y/N L/N and she’s one of the most talked about students around school and for multiple reasons.

Where do I begin about her? She’s really pretty and majority of the guys thinks so too. She does well in her studies. She’s friendly and welcoming. And I’ve heard she can sing too! I wish I could hear what she sounded like.

There must be something she had done for those 50 days of absence last year for her to improve this much compared to when I first saw her.

Talk about her absence was the gossip of the school, together with that scary delinquent who also was absent for 50 days. Many speculated they sort of cut classes together but I believe those were just rumors jealous girls made up so they wouldn’t think of that student as anything but single.

Though honestly seeing a guy and girl absent for the same number of days does seem suspicious, so I don’t blame them.

I should start connecting with her sometime soon, get that social points you know? And maybe by February or March, I’ll be able to confess my feelings to her.

Wish me luck!

December 14, 1988

Oh my god I actually managed to talk to her for the first time since our group project.

I intended to start as soon as possible and so I waited for the perfect time to approach her, and by appropriate time, I meant sometime around our snack or lunch break, or if I’m lucky, I’d be able to finish club activities and meet with her after classes.

So let me tell you how our conversation went.

After I mustered enough courage, I sought her out on one eventful snack break. Evaluating my performance, I did a pretty crappy job.

I stuttered a lot, my cheeks were fuming like crazy, and I couldn’t hold eye contact for more than 5 seconds. Fortunately for me, she was super understanding of my incapability to speak straight and that just made me even fall harder for her.

For that past hour, she picked up all of what I wanted to say through my broken sentences and even I was looking like a complete and utter fool, she wasn’t fazed by it at all and she even smiled at my goofiness. SMILED. Can you believe that?!

What a win, am I right? Well, here’s a bigger win: She can see my ghost thingy!

She called it a “Stand”? For some reason? But she was surprised that I had one, I asked why, and holy crap, she had one too! It was way cooler than mine- indestructible fabrics that she can shoot out or shield her body with.

A double win for me that day!

So, after that break, I was determined to maintain this friendly rapport we had so I urged myself to tell her If it was alright if we kept meeting up like this, and she said it was fine! I am making progress with her in no time. When she wasn’t too busy, we would meet up often on snack breaks and the seldom after-hours period.

Though I gotta say, after every meet-up we had, I always felt like someone was glaring at me from the shadows, but at the same time, it could just be my usual anxiety trying to distract me.

I offered to meet her up during lunch time, since I’ve heard it was a recommended time for people to bond, but she kept refusing the offer and said she was meeting with someone else during that time.

Honestly?... Made me a bit insecure because it could imply that she was meeting with another man, but I forced those thoughts out the drain and came with the rational thought that it was probably with a group of female students. She was a social butterfly after all.

By the time I’m writing this, I have attained “friend” status with her and I consider that win for me, since it was better than staying in the level of “groupmate” or “acquaintance”.

I’m seeing hope for this! Perhaps I’ll achieve that “boy” before the “friend” by March!

January 14, 1989

Valentine’s day is on the next month and the status of “close friend” seems to be in my favor.

I say that but I noticed how every other guy in school approached her even if it was for a minute or 2. I have a hunch they were thinking the same thing too. She was as accommodating as she was with me when we first met that day, but I swear I could see the slight discomfort in her body language when engaging with them.

That discomfort wasn’t present whenever she was with me.

Ha! Good thing I started early! Serves them right for picking on me for being a nerd.

I kept up with our regular meet-ups and I’d say progress with her is going better than expected! She began sharing random trivia facts about herself and I said mine in return and she smiles more too! Yes, all according to plan.

But something came up when I stepped into school for the first time this year.

I had to be extra early for a school project and so by being early, I get to see most of the students arrive to school, including her.

Here’s the thing.

Remember when I said every guy approached her at least once to try and get into her good side? I meant that literally and they were all either the good-looking ones or the troublemakers who always picked on me. However, there was the one student who didn’t bother trying to get close to her.

That very tall, tough-looking delinquent with the ripped hat and golden chain who looks like he could snap anyone’s back anytime with no problem.

He was pretty much the delinquent of delinquents because every other bad student with an attitude who ever crossed his path physically cowered and turned away as if they didn’t want to be in a fight with him.

And because of his infamous nature, of course every female student would congregate around his presence, squabbling for his attention like seagulls.

All except for her.

And it felt like a heavy weight doubled with another weight were lifted off my chest knowing the school’s darling and infamous bad boy weren’t interested in each other.

But going back to that early period before classes bit, she arrived minutes after I did and the second she stepped into the building, all the guys began quietly murmuring to themselves about her, how they’re totally gonna receive sweets on Valentine’s from her. To which I rolled my eyes at.

Then after another few minutes passed, the loud noise of girls from a distance was an enough of a tell that that delinquent arrived as well.

She was standing by the lockers that time, fixing her stuff as he walked by with his flock of fangirls behind him.

And then this happened- A single strip of her Stand’s fabric shot out from her side, and then at the same time, a muscular purple arm manifested out of the delinquent’s back to reach forward and gently grasp the fabric that wrapped itself around the hand.  

The heck? That guy’s got a Stand too?! A cool one at that?! And it’s holding her Stand??!

It was brief but it was strange. What’s stranger is that when that happened, she was smiling with pink on her cheeks the same time that guy tipped his hat over his face. And then they went on their merry way as usual.

Had to up my ante after that happened. Gotta say… she hasn’t noticed my growing insecurities and she’s still pretty close to me.

Like my parents said, as long as I believe in my goals, it’s bound to happen!

February 14, 1989

The day arrived! And even if I admittedly think I did pretty poor job in establishing a bond with her, the events of what had happened turned out quite great actually!

So let me tell you.

When snack break happened, all the girls began their move and started giving out chocolates. Some of my classmates got one, others who are kind of in my level didn’t get any (to which I call foul), the bullies got at least one too though I think they threatened a girl to get it, the male faculty got some appreciative chocolates…

And then there’s the egregious number of candies being given to that delinquent. I’m talking about a full circle of girls either placing their chocolates on his desk or in his locker that came with sticky notes of love.

Just to double check, I kept an eye on both his desk and locker if she did the same as they did. Creepy I know but… at least I’m not actively stalking anyone. Just on watch-out.

And good news! When she began distributing a piece of chocolate to the boys she acquainted with around school, she didn’t leave one at any of his belongings.

When she found me that time, let me tell you she gave me… a small pouch of chocolates! A POUCH! Instead of a piece or two! She had this beaming smile on her face and I, of course, was a proud flustered mess when that happened!

And oh, to see the look of disbelief on those bullies and pretty boys. Man, that felt really good!

I think she’s into me!

It’s pretty much a guarantee that she’ll accept my confessions next month based on what just happened.

 A bright future awaits for me!

February 14, 1989

That clingy bitch!

Who does she think she is showing off like that to Jojo?!

Here I thought I gave the best homemade chocolates in school. Every boy had found them delicious and had said it was the best because it is! I made them myself and I packed them in a neat red box with white crumpled paper fillings, topped with a silk white ribbon.

I had full confidence he’d be bringing that home for sure while he threw away the rest. So, I waited to see what happened at the end of classes. And this absurd shit happened!

Jojo was standing by the gate, cigarette in his mouth like the hottie he was. BUT IN HIS HAND WASN’T MY RED BOX!

Instead, in his possession was a navy-blue bento-sized box with an assortment of sweets inside, wrapped around with a silky rose-gold ribbon. AND THEN, she rushed out of the building towards Jojo and they walked out of school grounds. TOGETHER. AGAIN.  

SERIOUSLY. I’m surprised they aren’t dating yet though I’m pretty sure he’s gonna turn her down because he’s always like that with the multiple others before her.

Good thing that little eyeglass nerd that’s simping over her wasn’t there to see that bullshit. Don’t think he’s gonna handle the sight like me.

I’ll get him next time. Watch out Y/N!

March 14, 1989

I’m sad.

I feel like curling into a ball and wallow in my own embarrassment and sadness from what just happened.

So, if you weren’t aware… today was White Day a.k.a. the day where the guys give the gifts this time. Obviously, my gift was this letter I wrote for her and a rose I bought nearby, all meant to be an aid for my confession towards her.

All the guys I mentioned before had their own little penchants and gifts ready for her, and I watched her receive them with the same friendly smile she’d give to anyone. And I had to steel myself to remember that she didn’t feel comfortable with those guys months ago and she was accepting them out of politeness.

While they were busy with that, I waited for the right to confess.

I read that the best time to confess was when she was alone so when I thought of that, I figured it was around dismissal where most of the students already went home.

Alas, cue to the end of classes period where the sun was about to set and the crowd was minimized to a handful of students. I was sweating bullets when I waited for her by the entrance. I had the letter and rose in hand ready to be given.

When I heard her giggles, I gave one last pep talk to myself and faced her.

I tell you, the moment I saw her, my chest collapsed in on itself. She was still the same pretty girl I’ve bonded with for the past months, but in her arms was a huge brown teddy bear holding a bouquet of roses.

She saw me. And I began coughing nervously. I thought to myself who??? I didn’t see anyone give her anything that big during class hours.

As usual, she smiled at the sight of me standing there like an out-of-place weed and asked why I was still at school. Oh god, I fumbled so bad with my words, nothing was coming out like how I practiced back at home.

I kept saying how much I admired her and everything and so far, she was flattered by my mess of a status, and before I had the chance to confess-

The delinquent stepped behind her, hands in pocket, smoking as he glared straight at me. LIKE FULL ON DEATH GLARE AT MY DIRECTION.

I nearly peed my pants that time.

She wasn’t at all surprised at his presence, in fact she recognized him standing behind her and she promptly apologized for his intimidating aura.

And oh boy, the next bit fully ripped my sensitive heart to smithereens.

She told me a secret since we were “close friends” to which I now find a curse more than a blessing.

She told me that the very same delinquent that looked like he didn’t give a crap about romance and was giving me the look of death… was her boyfriend who gave her his White Day present to her.

Yes. You read that right. BOYFRIEND. The school’s darling and the infamous delinquent being a couple.

FOR HOW LONG????

THEY DIDN’T EVEN SEEM LIKE THEY WERE DATING TO BEGIN WITH???

But then I remembered the whole “their-Stands-were-holding-each-other-as-they-passed-by” scene I witnessed months ago, and those times where she couldn’t hang out with me every lunch time. Because she’s with him during that period. And those bits made sense now given the context.

She still asked me why I was there because she was genuinely concerned. My stutters worsened more, face was burning with embarrassment, and my hands holding the gifts I had for her behind my back turned clammy.

I tried to navigate myself around the whole dilemma of appeasing her concerns while choosing the right words under the pressure of the delinquent’s solid gaze that was still piercing into my soul. Eventually, I hesitantly gave her the rose without the letter.

And even after my whole mess, she still smiled and accepted it.

After saying out goodbyes, they were on their way and I thought I could relax and be free to burst into bashful tears, but I physically tensed when that guy’s Stand fully manifested in its entirety.

Holy crap the thing’s so jacked it was scary. It had one arm around Y/N’s waist while the purple behemoth looked at me with an icy glare much like its user.  

Hence, here we are- me basking in the darkness of my room while my heart’s still recoiling from the reality of being utterly broken due to Y/N L/N’s sheer kindness and relationship status.

Ah great, I can’t see much now because my tears are clouding my vision.

Time to breakdown. Bye.

March 14, 1989

Wonder why that kid’s so flustered today. We’ve communicated with no problems the past days I knew him. Maybe it was because today was White Day and he’s shy? Most likely.

Though, I think a major contributor to his messy speech was Jotaro just being his slightly possessive self standing behind me, even though I told him countless time that the poor kid just needed a friend.

But I understood where he was coming from- he’s my secret boyfriend and he had to watch other boys give me gifts like I was still single. The teddy bear and roses were really sweet of him though. I still engrained the sight of his blushing cheeks and averted gaze in my mind when Star gave me the gifts on his behalf.

He took me out to a park as one last surprise gift. We saw the stars for a moment and then I stayed over at his place, to which he proceeded to rail me into oblivion, and now I’m here writing an entry into my diary while he continues to cutely snooze beside me.

Poor kid though. He must have been scared shitless yesterday. I think I’m gonna smooth things out with him when classes start again.

For now, I’m going to join Jotaro in his arms again and fall into dreamland with him.

 Until next time!

[jate-kara]

The vanguard and "can you pretend I didn't say that?"

“As far as welcome-back parties go, not the worst I’ve seen. Not the best. But you know what? Not the worst, so I’ll call it a win.”

‘Party’ was a generous term. Zavala’s office could hardly be called cheery on its best day, but cluttered as it was now with relics, weaponry, reports, and what looked suspiciously like a collection of half-full coffee mugs in the bookshelf’s corner, it barely passed for a workspace, let alone a party venue.

Besides that, there were no streamers, no balloons, and no fingertips sparking fireworks. No cheering guests, either. The room was lit by the single lamp set on the desk, casting shadows across Zavala and Ikora and absolutely nobody else. The combined weight of their stares was enough to give a guy nightmares.

Felt like just last week he’d been in here, meeting their scowls with a quick quip and a flash of charm. ‘Lame’ is what Cayde might have called the whole thing, under better circumstances. But these weren’t better circumstances. Might even call ‘em ‘apocalyptic’, actually. So he kept his mouth shut, leaned forward, and let his hands come to rest on the edge of the desk. Well within their sight. Not like he had Ace on him; he’d handed it off to Ikora after his resurrection. Return. Whatever. But maybe it helped.

Or maybe not. Ikora’s stare was unwavering.

“I told you,” Cayde tried, for the fifteenth time. “I can’t explain it to you. I don’t know how I’m back. Who brought me back. Why I’m back. I just know I’m glad I am. Sounds like you could use the help.”

Zavala gave an audible sigh. His elbows were propped up on the desk, so his hands were folded in front of his face, obscuring half his scowl. For a moment, he was silent, contemplating Cayde like an enemy and not an ally the Light had found fit to return from a death beyond death.

“We don’t expect you to explain,” Zavala offered at last.

“Great! Then stop looking at me like I’m going to blow the Tower up.”

Ikora winced. Cayde stopped short. “Wait. Nobody did that, right? Wasn’t one of my Hunters?”

Zavala dropped his head to his hands and left it there, scrubbing at his face like that would erase whatever headache was now blooming in the back of his skull. Could almost call it like the good old days, if his eyes weren’t shot through with haunted grief when he looked back up. “No,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. His gaze met Cayde’s, and held. He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, but all that came out was a hoarse croak.

Ikora rested a hand on Zavala’s shoulder, then took a measured breath. “The circumstances are…different, but you're not the first to return to us. Last time, we failed to see our enemy, and we almost paid dearly for it.”

Vague as vague can be. Someone got a foothold in the Tower, close enough to spook the Vanguard, or outright infiltrate them. Cayde looked between them.

“It wasn’t one of us,” Ikora supplied. Her voice was softer, this time.

Cayde wondered what he must have looked like to prompt that response, and pushed the thought away just as quickly. “All right, so tell me how I’m supposed to prove I’m me. You wanna hear about the Dare? Where I got the cloak? Best bet I ever lost?”

Zavala’s breath hitched. Ikora’s hand shot across the table and closed around Cayde’s wrist. Too late, Cayde remembered the crushing pain in his chest, and the Young Wolf, beside him, as the light faded, and he fought for a final word.

Cayde coughed. “Can you pretend I didn’t say that?”

Ikora’s hand didn’t move. For a beat that felt like whatever eternity he’d spent beyond, no one spoke.

“I don’t know how to prove that you aren’t an agent of our enemy,” Zavala said at last. His voice was soft, softer than Cayde could ever remember hearing it. “But I want to believe that you aren’t. I want to believe that you are truly returned to us.”

Cayde waited for a however, we can’t just- or an I’m sorry, but that’s not enough. It didn’t come. From either of them. He looked at them, and he felt the weight of Ikora’s hold on his wrist and the suffocating hope in Zavala’s eyes, and his chest ached. And he wondered what had happened while he was dead, and whether ‘apocalyptic’ could even begin to cover where they were now.

And for a second, he didn’t give a damn.

“All right, now don’t shoot me,” Cayde said. “But I’m gonna hug you. Both of you.”

And they let him.

—

[thewritingofspencerrose]

M.Hughes Masterlist

First Day on the Job

It's chilly in the arena when we enter, hand in hand, for my first day.

Only a week into living here and I still don't fully think this has all set in.

I may be working on a medical team, but I'm going to be the first stop of all injured players as soon as they're off the ice.

It's all on me.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" A physical knocking on my forehead brings me from my thoughts, Trevor's smile being the first thing in front of me, mocking and coy.

Part of me wants to just smile and say I dazed off, but this is Trev, he's my partner in

"What if someone bleeds out? Or worse, what if everyone hates me?"

"What's the worst scenario?" Jamie questions from our side, not even attempting to save his laugh, Trevor pulling me closer to his body. "Everyone hating you?"

"You do realize everyone loves you right?" They're tag-teaming my nerves right now, and honestly I'm not even sure that'll be enough.

No exam prepared me for the nauseous anxiety that starting a lead job would bring.

"They don't know me!" It's a lame argument, but valid all the same as I pause just outside the locker room door. I know I'm allowed in. It's where I've been instructed to meet Coach Cronin and introduce myself to the boys.

"We have all heard literally everything about you, I'm pretty sure I could tell you things about yourself that you don't even know, Mags," his words are meant to be assuring, but assuring isn't loading properly right now.

"Then what if I don't live up to their idea of me?"

Even if I hadn't already been on the edge of a breakdown, the look on Trevor's face as he takes my shoulders, his shoulders slumped and eyes downcast.

"The boys already love you because I love you, and that's never going to change. So we're going to march your cute little ass into this lockerroom and wow everyone with all that Latin-anatomy-nonsense that we studied the last four years, got it?"

Sorry Dad, you better be saving for a wedding.

I just smile though, small and wide while he returns my look. But Jamie's groaning, moaning on about something involving us getting a room, and I can hear the sound of staff coming down the hall.

"Okay, let's get this over with so I can go home and rant about it with Q."

The boys both laugh, but Jamie is the one to open the door, Trev taking ahold of my hand with one of his, his other covering my eyes as he leads me into the loud atmosphere.

"Okay boys! Put 'em away! My girls here and unless you break 'em I want them nowhere near her eyeline!" Nevermind on the wedding, I may just kill him here and now.

"Trevor Zegras!" The team laughs loudly, oohing and ahhing while I pry Trev's hand off, and I can't help but laugh as I look out around me.

These boys are going to make me cry. Correction, I am crying.

"You guys-"

Trevor's hands wrap around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder and I can feel his smile. "Welcome to the team, Baby."

"And welcome to the team from the rest of us," the one I know to be Mason greets, everyone around clapping. "I'm not going to call you baby, because I value my life, but we're all really glad you're here, Margaret."

"Maggie," I correct softly, Mason's smile growing as Leo jumps up like a happy puppy.

"We get nickname privileges?"

There's a joy throughout the room as I take in his smile, the banner saying CONGRATULATIONS in Ducks colors, balloons and all sprawled about.

How could I not give these boys nickname privileges when they seem just as excited to see me as they would an old friend. It's like they're seeing Trev or Jamie after a long break.

"Of course you do, as long as y'all keep from getting too beat up," I offer, sticking out a hand. "Deal?"

"Deal to do our best," Leo accepts, shaking my hand as some of the veterans laugh.

Gudas just chuckling and shaking his head as he watches us both. "She's going to run this whole show."

[archivallyfound09]

Something In-Between, pt. 3

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (f), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader (f) (no y/n)

Summary: Something old, something new- reader's stuck between two men who look damn good in Navy blue(s).

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), drinking, potentially some suggestive situations in the future (none here). Everything I write is Mature- read at your own risk.

Part 1 Part 2

You and Bradley rode home in a complacent silence. Well, at least you thought it was until you parked his Bronco and he all but jumped out, slamming the door behind him and making his way to the front door. You rolled your eyes, fingering the keys he had given you to drive. He glared vaguely in your direction and you heard him suck his teeth as you moved to unlock the door.

After blowing past you in the doorway, you sighed, not sure what had gotten into your roommate. He all but slammed his door, leaving you-mid-shoe off- in the living room. You tossed your shoe to the other one near the front door and let your purse drop on the couch. Your socked feet padded the sound of your footsteps as you made your way to his door.

"You gonna tell me what crawled up your ass and died, Bradshaw?" No response. You sighed. "Or are we going to do this childish thing where you ignore me in my own home because-"

The door opened and you didn't get you finish your thought. You noticed how hard-set Bradley's jaw was. Whatever it was, it had certainly gotten him upset and bothered. His temples were pulsing and you could almost see the flexing. He stared at you silent and then you saw his face start to falter. Your hands instinctively found your hips and you leaned against one side of the doorframe.

"Just a bad day, ya know? Sorry, wasn't anything you did..." he sighed and stated lamely. His eyes had fallen to his feet and the silence in the small apartment was deafening. Your tongue poked your cheek as you waited for him to continue, thoroughly not buying any of his bullshit. When he didn't immediately continue, you couldn't help but encourage him to do so.

"Bad day I get. Being shitty with me when I barely saw you all day is not okay. And it's not what happened," you said pointedly, narrowing your eyes as his eyes quickly shot up to meet yours. He looked apologetic, but you had known him long enough to know that he used this move to get out of uncomfortable situations.

"Dude, all I did today was get up, take a shower, go to work, go to lunch, go to a bar. What is your deal?" you couldn't help the huffiness to your voice as you felt like a teenager in trouble with their parents. You were about to go after him again when he muttered something you barely heard.

"...and gave Hangman those papers."

Your eyebrows practically hit your hairline in incredulousness. Your hands dropped to your side and you took a step back from the doorway, your mouth slightly opening in shock. Gone was the troubled teenager, now you were dealing with a child of your own.

"Are you shitting me, Bradley?!" your voice was louder than you meant, but the shock of what all this was about wasn't sitting well at all. "I give an envelope to a guy you work with and you get pissed that I introduced myself?! What are you? Jealous that someone spoke to me? You've got to be-"

"-That's not what he was doing! You don't know him and I know exactly what he was thinking when he came in and-"

"HE WAS GETTING THE THING YOU TOLD HIM TO-"

"HE WAS TRYING TO-"

"I didn't fuck him," the harshness of your tone stopped Bradley mid-yell. Your voice had lowered as the anger boiled up. You had never seen this side of Bradley and you were not a fan of this sudden questioning of your morality and decision making by a man who had no room to judge.

The two of you stared at each other until Bradley finally dropped his eyes. "I didn't think you did. I just know how he gets and he was looking at you..." his voice trailed off pathetically when he realized you weren't listening any more. You started walking to your room then thought better of it and grabbed your purse off the couch with Bradley's keys. You quickly slipped into some sneakers, barely breaking your stride to the door.

"Next time you tell someone to come over to get something, I'll make sure I'm not here."

-----------

You weren't sure where you were driving to. Any tiny effects of alcohol you had consumed earlier were long gone and you felt the anger still bubbling in your throat like emotional acid reflux. You hadn't gotten into a fight with Bradley like this since college and it too had been about a boy.

You rolled your eyes, looking at the lit dash and turning off the radio, preferring the silence to anything music could offer at this point. You didn't appreciate the accusations, but you especially didn't appreciate being in a fight when you hadn't done a single thing wrong.

You were barely paying attention to where you were driving when you found yourself back in the parking lot of the Hard Deck. You parked the car, hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel, teeth painfully tight in your jaw. Your eyes started to disassociate in the dark as everything blurred around you and the nearby lights because floating blotches of yellow and orange.

As if he could sense your presence, it was at that precise moment that Jake Seresin, the man this whole fight had been about, walked out of the Hard Deck, toothpick in his mouth, hand lazily thrown in his pocket, the other slapping Bob on the back condescendingly as the rest of the crew followed them out.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he felt eyes on him. He paused while the group continued past him as his eyes scanned the almost empty lot around the building. It was then that he spotted Rooster's Bronco still parked and he made a confused face in spite of himself. He waved on the rest of the pilots as he started towards the oddly positioned vehicle, very curious as to what he was about to find.

When he walked up to the front of the car he saw you sitting alone, blankly staring at him. He put on his most charming smirk, and pulled the toothpick out of his mouth, sauntering over to the driver side door.

"Hey there, darlin', and here I thought you had gone home. Didn't think you'd be out here waiting on me..." It was at this point that Jake's smirk faltered, your eyes still glued blankly ahead, barely comprehending his words. He swallowed and reached into the truck, his hand brushing your arm through the open window.

"Hey- you okay?" The touch shook your out of the 50-yard stare and you turned to him quickly. You weren't sure what you were doing or what he was thinking you were doing. You sighed and shrugged.

"You want the long story or the short story?" He chuckled and rested his other forearm on the window frame.

"If you're talking, I'll take the long version," he winked and your rolled your eyes, a small smile cracking your jaw. Jake saw the relief cross over your facial features and he matched your smile. "Come on," he pulled open the driver side door, "Penny won't close up for at least another hour. Can I buy you a real drink instead of you swiping my card?"

You laughed and nodded, easily taking his hand to get out of the car. As you hit the lock button, your hand dropped out of Jake's as he headed back inside.

"Rooster isn't going to jump out of the bushes and ambush me or anything, right?" Jake paused when you didn't laugh and he turned back to look at you, "Kidding- just curious where he is..." Jake had stopped walking and was looking at you, awaiting an answer.

"I dropped him off at home."

Jake was taken aback, but he quickly recovered. "You took him home and then you came back here?" You nodded and walked past him, reaching the door and walking inside. You felt his body behind you in the doorway as you stopped to look around. "Did you come back for me, or is that wishful thinking?" His voice was low and you could feel his hot breath on your neck and shoulder as he leaned down. You shrugged and walked forward towards the bar with the aviator in tow behind you.

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

You and Jake had closed down the bar. You had found a small, semi-private booth in the back (Penny could keep an eye on you, and you appreciated her concern, but assured her after your second round of drinks that you really were sound of mind). Jake found himself scooting closer to you in the booth as the conversation went on.

"I just- I mean, I'm honored," he said, laughing, "Two fights with Rooster and the most recent is about little ol' me!" You snickered into your drink as he laughed again, beer bottle perched at his lips.

"And I didn't even do anything this time!" You shook your head and felt another laugh bubble up. Jake's eyes were shining and you noticed a slight flush dust his cheeks. You knew you were warm all over and it wasn't from the drink in your hands. As Penny rang the bell signalling she was closing up, you downed your drink and stood up, Jake's hand immediately on the small of your back as he stood up behind you. You smiled and started towards the door, giving Penny a wave and mouthing "thank you."

Once outside, the sea air hit harder than anything. You sighed and pulled out your phone to check the time. 12:13am. You groaned. Yes, tomorrow was Friday, but you still had to be at work in...less than 8 hours. Jake had leaned his head back and closed his eyes, breathing in the air, hand still firmly on your back.

It was then that you looked at the rest of your lock screen. 14 missed calls. 23 missed texts. 13 messenger messages. You groaned again and Jake looked down, lazily opening his eyes and spotting your phone.

"Looks like big brother is not happy that you're out. You gonna tell him it was with me?" He leaned in closer, his hand now moving to your hip and pulling you in tighter to his toned body. You shook your head.

"I do still have to live with him. I'd like to make it as painless as possible."

Jake shrugged, "Suit yourself," he squeezed you in closer, "but if I were you, I'd pull a page from Hangman's greatest moves...." He waggled an eyebrow at you and started walking towards his car. You met his raised eyebrow, but your feet followed his. He smiled and opened the passenger door. You paused and waited for an explanation.

"I'll take you to your car. You can drive it home and then when Rooster wakes up in the morning, boom, no ride," his self-satisfied smile was clear, even in the dark, "ruin a bit of his day like he ruined yours."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out past your lips and nodded. "Good plan, sailor, now get in." Jake was only too thrilled to not only spend some time with you, but also piss off Rooster. Win-win in his book and you knew it.

"Aye-aye, ma'am. Anywhere you want to go."

--------

You yawned and pulled your comforter back above your head as you groaned. The offending sunlight poured in through shades that you forgot to pull down all the way. You squinted at them angrily and then realized that the noise that jolted you awake was the sound of the front door slamming and footsteps loudly stomping towards you.

"Where the FUCK is my car?!"

You paused and then all but snorted trying to hold in a laugh remembering the events of the night before. Bradley threw open your door.

"Where is it?! What the fuck did you do?!"

You yawned again and sat up, shrugging.

"I parked it back at the bar. Figured you could use the walk to base to clear your head," you retorted, matter-of-factly. Bradley's jaw hung open as he comprehended your words. He glared at you and then slammed your door and then the front door. You laid pck down, smirking to yourself. He deserved it, after all, and it wasn't like it was a long walk or anything.

You were shaken from your self-convincing monologue by a quiet ping. You snagged your phone off the bedside table and again squinted angrily at the sun now fully streaming into the room. You turned your attentions back to the screen as another text came in.

Hey. We're about to get going on a briefing. No sign of Rooster, any idea where he is?

;)

You chuckled and shook your head, quickly replying.

I think he took the scenic route this morning.

You laughed again, proud of your semi-witty response and set the phone down as you sat up on the edge of the bed. As your feet searched for the slippers under your bed you heard your phone again and couldn't help the all-too-recognizable flutter in your stomach as you brought it to your face.

Can I see you tomorrow? -------------

A/N: I'm a sucker for a soft Jake...and a jealous Bradley apparently... :) Also, too many tags are crashing this story- so if you want to keep up with me, please follow @archivallyfound09 and click “get notifications” (I only post my stories here, so no spam or other stuff)

Part 4

Taglists:

Hangman Taglist: @alldaysdreamers @ponyboys-sunsets @hopefulinlove @wannabepoe @maverooster @rosiahills22 @ancabifi @multifandom-fangirl4 @dempy @luckyladycreator2 @chlo-feigh @sopheeg @kkrenae @blue-aconite @angirlofallthings22 @rln108 @pricklepearbloom @natasharomanoffisbaebby @loveforaugust @mizzy-pop @lizzie-rdj @mavswife @quackwackfawck @obiwankenobis-lap @icemansgirl1999 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @alitav99

@arieltwvdtohamflash @jostyriggslover96 @notanordinaryprincess95 @luckyladycreator2 @mistressslytherin @fogle97 @thebluelioness @littlebadariell @daisyhollyxox @idfkwhyimhere4357 @actorinfluence @lieutenant-rooster-bradshaw @no-pilots-please @imagineyneyjr  @hey-its-kayla-claire @8oopsiedaisy8 @jakexfmc @desert-fern @smoothdogsgirl @bl6o6dy

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