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hannibals-favourite-meal · 8 months ago

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.⋆｡Forgotten｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

To love Bruce was risky and it was exhilarating but you weren’t ready to deal with its consequences when everything suddenly changed.

Warnings: angst, amnesia, injuries, unplanned pregnancy, fluff, i couldn’t help but add bat family shenanigans, hints of smut, scarecrow fear toxin, mentions of self-harm as a result of toxin, hospital visits/health scare, happy endings baby, age difference WC: 7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You knew Bruce Wayne.

You knew the depth of blue in his eyes, the placement of every scar and mole and freckle on his body, the little cowlick at the back of his head that would only appear when he had gone too long without a haircut.

You knew he liked tea but only when he didn’t have meetings, his right shoulder locked up when it was cold and wet, he hated the beach but loved the ocean, he regularly brought home stray animals until he was 12, and he was a hopeless romantic.

And you loved each other deeply, so deeply that you felt like there was no colour in your world before him and he had no light in his before you. It had started out simply enough, you were his secretary. Fresh from your Masters program, you needed a job and he needed a new assistant after the retirement of his last one. You were hired on the spot with the promise that it would only be temporary until you got a job in your field. But that was almost 4 years ago now and you had no intention of leaving the man you had fallen so hard for, he guiltily admitted once that he did not want you to leave either.

There were countless date nights and sleepovers, weekend getaways and times where you would spend the entire day naked in bed. You saw each other almost every day and yet it ached when you were apart for even just a few minutes.

But no one else knew.

Besides the fact that he was your boss and 10 years older than you, Bruce wanted to shield you both from his life as Batman and from the public eye. And you were terrified of the judgement of his family especially given that there was only a couple of years difference between you and his oldest kid. And it was fine, for a while at least. You got to exist in this perfect little bubble of love with the only man you could envision a future with, away from the harshness of your lives.

As it must, the real world crashes down upon your little bubble, shattering it.

“Bruce! You have a meeting!” His teeth sunk into the column of your throat with a discontented grunt as he pressed his hips even closer to your own, his arms winding around your plush middle.

“They’re not as important as this.” The tip of his nose brushed against your pulse. You let yourself melt into his strong hold for just a moment, savouring the feel of his toned body against you like you always did when Bruce lathered you with attention. With one last squeeze around your torso, Bruce reluctantly let you go. His huge hands lingered on your wide hips as you shifted so you were now facing him.

“You’ve blown them off three times already, you have to go.” You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing along the 5 o’clock shadow that was already growing along his jaw.

“I’d rather you blow me off instead, sunny.” You smacked his chest as Bruce chuckled.

“Alright rein it in big boy, you’ll get your fill of me soon enough.”

“I think you’ll find that it’s me that does the filling.” You glared at him and stepped away, making his hands fall from your body.

“Go, before I start to rethink about our ~plans~ for the weekend.”

“Oh you fucking vixen. If I can sneak away from the boys tonight, you’re gonna be eating those words.” You spun on your heel, letting Bruce get a good look at your ass in the tight work skirt you knew he loved on you.

“I think you’ll find that you’ll be the one who will be eating. I’ll see you tomorrow Mr Wayne.” You cooed, not bothering to look back at him as you left Bruce standing in the middle of the hallway with a stunned expression and a straining in his pants.

——————

You were getting nervous now. You hadn’t seen Bruce in almost a week, which wasn’t unusual considering his ‘nightlife’ but to have no communication from him at all? That was completely out of the ordinary. There had been a message left on your office phone from his butler that Bruce had some business to attend to and would be unreachable for the foreseeable future but the way your stomach twisted in fear told you that something else was going on. He did not, in fact, sneak away that night to see you nor come to your apartment over the weekend as you both had planned. But there was nothing you could do without exposing your relationship.

So, you did what you could to keep WE functioning without him: misdirecting calls, charming impatient board members, even sending phoney emails from his account to placate people as with each passing day, that little spark of anxiety grew into a blazing fire.

Then, at promptly 9 am on the sixth day of Bruce’s disappearance, your routine was disrupted once more. You were typing away at your computer, having been in the office for almost an hour already, when you heard the elevator doors slide open and the click of men’s formal shoes against the tile. You eyed the bottle of Tylenol on your desk, anticipating yet another headache from some prissy rich boy who couldn’t take no for an answer. But you froze as soon as an imposing figure turned the corner.

Your breath caught at the sight of him. Mostly unharmed, save for the wicked looking cut across his left eyebrow, he was dressed the same way he normally would, but there was something about his posture that was completely wrong.

“Bruce.” Your legs shook as you rose to your feet. His steely gaze flicked to you as he nodded politely, not even missing a beat in his stride.

“Miss Y/L/N.” His office door slammed shut behind him and you felt your heart splinter. Silence washed over the hall and for just a moment, you could almost believe that he had been a hallucination that your anxiety ridden mind had conjured up. The ping of an email notification from your computer broke you out of your desperate reasoning and suddenly you were following his steps.

Your knuckles curled over the steak knob, just as you had done so many times in the past and you pushed open the door. Bruce looked up from the pile of papers that you had left on his own desk over the past week, brandishing you with a look far more harsh than he had ever given you before.

“Bruce, what’s going on? You’ve been gone for days with no calls, no texts. I’ve been worried sick.” His jaw clenched, sending a shot of panic up your spine.

“Miss Y/L/N I don’t know where this feeling of entitlement has come from. What I do with my time is none of your business. I am your boss- not your friend and I would keep that in mind if you wish to keep your job.” He snarled. You physically recoiled as if he had struck you, unconsciously taking a step backwards. “Please refrain from using my first name, this is a place of business.”

Never, in your many years of working for this man, who was now a stranger, did he ever speak to you with such contempt, even hatred. And it broke your heart.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed down tears. “Of course Mr Wayne, I apologise for my unprofessionalism.” He grunted in acknowledgement. Your hands shook as you closed the door to his office, shutting yourself out from the man you loved with every piece of you.

——————

There was no greater torture than this, you thought, to watch as your soulmate iced you out until you couldn’t remember what his warmth had felt like. When was the last time his name slipped past your lips or when yours escaped his. You were forced to see him almost every day and yet, he was more like a ghost to you.

He wouldn’t even speak to you anymore. At first, he kept his interactions with you to a few words in the mornings when he arrived and evenings when he would leave. But as the weeks carried on, he spoke less and less until he would barely even look at you as he passed.

Your chest burned with thousands of questions, each breath laced with the poison of doubt and fear. You wished for this behaviour to be some sick dream, oftentimes you thought that this could be a result of Scarecrow’s fear drug. But when you awoke each morning, you knew, deep down, that this was very real. You could only wonder if this was an inevitable fate that you were meant to suffer for loving someone as unobtainable as Bruce was.

You had known since the very first moment that his blue eyes held something more than friendship for you, that your love for him would always be greater than he would ever hold for you. You knew this, and yet you didn’t think you would have to accept such a devastating truth so soon. You were greedy for him and perhaps, you had taken too much.

“Y/L/N.” The sudden call of your name snapped you from your spiral of self-pity. You looked up and met the bright green eyes of the youngest Wayne. The ever-frowning Damian was now glaring at you, an almost perfect replica of his father. “Where is my father?”

“He’s-“ You cleared your throat, feeling incredibly uncomfortable under the 10 year old’s scrutinising gaze. “He’s in his office. You can go right in.” Damian observed you for another moment before he turned his nose up and walked past you. You breathed a sigh of relief as the door behind you opened and closed, seemingly leaving you alone once more.

“Are you quite alright Miss Y/N?”

“Jesus!” You yelped in surprise, clutching your chest. The ever present force of Alfred looked down at you, lips pursed in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

“I believe it is I who should be apologising, I didn’t mean to frighten you. But, are you very sure you’re ok? You seem to be out of sorts.” He stepped closer, placing Damian’s jacket on the coat rack just beside the office door.

You waved him off, your throat suddenly thick with emotion. Alfred had always been immensely kind to you in the fleeting encounters you’d had with the man. And for a while, you believed that he knew about you and Bruce, but since he had been acting the same way since Bruce’s unexplained absence, you were obviously wrong.

With a glance over your shoulder, as if to double check that your boss wasn’t listening in, you grabbed your purse from the floor and quickly slung it over your shoulder. “He doesn’t have any other meetings today so I think I may leave early. It was nice to see you, Alfred.”

And before he could even get a single word of protest out, you had already dashed to the elevator and slipped inside. As the reflective doors shut, you were able to catch the way Alfred frowned, his brown eyes dark as he watched you run.

You managed to hold off your sobs until you were safely in your car. Grief wrapped around your chest like a snake, slowly crushing your ribs inwards until all you could manage was small gasps of air as you slowly drowned in it. It was all getting too much, Bruce and work and this stupid fucking nausea that kept showing up at the worst times.

The stress was going to wear you down until you were nothing and what did you get out of it? A boss that couldn’t even look you in the eye even after years of sharing your life and your bed with him. He was acting like he didn’t even know your first name. You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

Tears still rolled down your rounded cheeks as the car’s engine turned over and you pulled out of your designated spot. The white paint that they used to write your name was chipping away, leaving a faded imprint of each letter like a child’s chalk drawing that was being washed away.

Your hiccuping sobs were slowly dying down until you pulled into your apartment complex and a notification appeared on your phone. The screen lit up the inside of your car, immediately drawing your attention to it.

‘Your period is 6 weeks late, is it stress or something more?’

——————

Silence in the office was not unusual for the top floor of Wayne Enterprises, though a complete lack of any noise was deeply concerning. Bruce once again glanced over his monitor to the open door where your vacant desk was clearly visible. His eyes flicked to the time displayed on the screen in front of him, you were over a half hour late and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.

Just as Bruce was reaching over for his phone, you turned the corner. Your heels, far smaller than you normally wore he noted, clacked against the flooring as you strode towards him. Before you could spot him looking at you, he forced his gaze back down to the spreadsheets he hadn’t even bothered to read when he arrived this morning. His stomach fluttered as he heard you enter his office. Bruce tried to swallow the feeling down like he always did when you were around.

“I’m resigning.” His neck audibly popped as his head snapped up, suddenly all of his attention on you. Your hands trembled as you put a sheet of paper on his desk and quickly took a step back like a deer preparing to run. Bruce kept his eyes on you, the muscle in his jaw rolling as he bit back a thousand questions.

“I’m assuming this is effective immediately?” You nodded while he leaned back in his chair as nonchalantly as he could. “Is there any reason why? I thought you were happy working here.”

Your left eye twitched but you steeled yourself with a deep breath. “I’m not obligated to tell you the reason why I’m leaving, just as you promised when you hired me. I have responsibilities elsewhere. I left candidates for your next secretary on my desk.” You turned on your heel, intent on leaving as quickly as you possibly could.

“Wait-“ Bruce darted out of his seat, sending it flying back as he rushed forwards. “Please I just want to know why, I think I deserve that much.” His large hand wrapped around your wrist in an iron grip, forcing you to stop your retreat.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that Bruce.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you spoke. “I really thought you were different. But obviously, I was wrong. You’re so selfish and cruel and I made the mistake of falling in love with you.”

He stumbled back as you finally met his gaze. Your eyes were burning with a loathing that sent a chill to his bones. “So no, you don’t deserve to know why I’m leaving. Be glad I even did you the courtesy of giving you my resignation in writing.” You yanked your hand from his hold. “Goodbye Mr Wayne. Don’t contact me.”

And then you stormed out of his life, leaving the feared Bat of Gotham confused and with a massive pit in his heart.

——————

“Okay, so we agree that this isn’t an invasion of anyone’s privacy, Y/N or B’s, because it’s for the sake of the greater good.” Dick made eye contact with each of his younger siblings as if to reinforce this statement.

“Yeah cause if B doesn’t stop moping around and nagging us, I will actually kill him.” Jason quipped from where he was perched on the fire escape. Cass nodded in agreement from beside the bigger man as Steph snorted under her breath.

“I’m just here for the drama. I’ve never seen him acting like a moody teenager before. Babs wants me to keep her updated.” Dick sighed heavily, deciding to ignore her comment as he continued to address the others.

“We stay hidden and only observe. Got that Damian?”

“Why am I being singled out when Drake was the one that hacked into her medical records?”

“For the last time, it wasn’t her medical records, it was just her employment records!”

“Like that’s any better.” Tim glared at Duke.

“You’re the one who snitched.”

“Hey!” Dick stepped in before they could escalate their little squabble, “That doesn’t matter now. What does matter is finding out exactly what happened to make Y/N quit and B so fucking miserable.”

“Ooo golden boy swore, guess that means it’s serious.” Jason jostled Cass with his shoulder as she giggled quietly. Dick rolled his eyes.

“If you’re not gonna take this seriously, you can just go home.” Red Hood rose to his feet, his gloved hands raised in surrender.

“I am taking this seriously, I just also enjoy annoying you. It’s called multitasking.”

“Father is fine. I don’t understand why this is necessary.” Damian huffed from his place at Dick’s side. He had been adamant that nothing was wrong with Bruce, even after the increased number of injuries he had been receiving on a nightly basis and a general disinterest in anything besides crime fighting. All the kids knew that it was a problem but Damian got to go on more patrols so he was content.

“Because demon brat, ever since Y/N quit, he’s been in an awful-ass mood and has been making it our problem. I would rather not have the old man keep sticking his nose in my business just because he’s cranky.”

“And-“ Duke shot Jason a look, “he’s getting extremely reckless. We’ve all seen the amount of med supplies he’s been going through. If we don’t find out what’s going on, he’s gonna end up in a body bag.” Silence fell upon the rooftop.

We can help both of them. Cass signed. I really liked Y/N. She was nice.

Tim cleared his throat. “So, can we go now? The longer we’re not responding to Alfred, the more chance B comes after us.” Dick put his hand on Damian’s shoulder.

“Tim’s right. We stay low and we stay quiet. Duke, Jay you two go on ahead and we’ll follow behind. Do not engage and don’t be creepy.” He spoke specifically to Jason.

“This whole thing is fucking creepy but fine, I guess I won’t look in her nightstand.” And before Dick could even open his mouth to scold his younger brother, he was gone over the side of the building. Duke shrugged and followed after, his footsteps silent beneath the sounds of the city.

Damian jerked forwards but Nightwing’s grip on his shoulder kept him stuck to the spot. “You’re with Steph. You two keep an ear open for the big man but other than that, stay off the comms. Cass, Tim with me, we’ll cover the street and then come up behind.” Cass nodded and pulled her mask up higher over her nose, following after her older brothers.

“Are you sure about this Dick? If we’re wrong-“

“I know T, but what if we’re right? Something happened between those two and maybe, we can make it right. B isn’t himself and it’s affecting all of us.” Dick then released his youngest brother. “Remember, stay out of sight.”

As soon as he disappeared into the night, Stephanie muttered. “This is bullshit.”

“I agree.”

Your apartment was easy to find— the 7th floor of a relatively upscale building, one that was suspiciously out of your price range. Jason raised an eyebrow at the double glazed window panes as well as the discreet sill reinforcements he could just make out around the edges of the glass.

“She’s either extremely paranoid or someone else is.” Duke grunted in agreement.

“Think B is behind it?”

Jason shrugged as he lowered himself down onto the steel grate of the fire escape that snaked past the apartment’s windows. “That or she’s got a hell of a lot more secrets than we thought.” Duke dropped down beside him, the two of them moving in sync along the catwalk.

The kitchen was dark, as was the living room. Duke’s head jerked to the right, drawing Jason’s eyes to the soft glow coming from the last window. He gently squeezed the shorter man’s shoulder as he slipped past.

Jason pressed his bulk against the naked brick and crept his way forwards, keeping to the shadows as much as he could. Thin curtains covered the window from the inside, but it did nothing to hinder his view of the brightly lit bedroom.

You were sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, eyes locked onto a small black and white photo in your right hand. Your left gently cradled your belly, your thumb gently brushing over the soft layer of fat. Even through the haze of the sheer curtains, the sadness on your face was as clear as day.

Jason’s own eyes narrowed in on the image in your hand before he stumbled backwards, almost falling from the fire escape. His neck clicked as his eyes met Signal’s who was suddenly standing ram-rod straight.

“Holy shit she’s pregnant.” But before Duke or Jason could even begin to comprehend the magnitude of their discovery, the bedroom window slammed open and suddenly, you and the Red Hood were face-to-face.

“Do you all want to come in for tea or should I tell you to fuck off now?”

“Huh, I guess she did have some secrets.” You moved out of the way, letting Duke slip into the warm apartment and leaving Jason stunned for only a second before he clicked on his com system.

“Yo, we’ve been caught.” And then he followed behind.

The bedroom was smaller than he thought it would be, but it was cosy. A thick duvet on the bed, a candle on the vanity in the corner. It was… nice. Duke had already made himself comfortable at the kitchen counter by the time Jason stepped out of the bedroom. The thick black and yellow helmet he donned was neatly placed on the chair beside him.

“Dude.” Jason whined but his little brother only smiled at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Would you like milk in your tea Jason?”

“What the fu- goddamnit. Yes and honey too please.” You hummed softly and set the kettle on the stove.

“I take it the same way. Mugs are in the cabinet above the sink, grab them for me. Duke, would you mind opening the front door, I’d rather not have mud tracked into my bedroom.” The teen dutifully stalked off as Jason retrieved said mugs and set them down on the counter. His own helmet soon joined his brother’s as he leaned against the wall across from you.

You continued to fuss about the kitchen, pulling out some biscuits and sugar as well. “It’s Bruce’s isn’t it?” Your body stuttered but you were quickly composed once more, though you did not look Jason’s way.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” He lurched forward as if he were about to defend his adoptive father but then just as suddenly, he leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus. I just thought you got sick of him.” You chuckled under your breath though it was plain enough that there was no joy in it. You looked truly exhausted as you placed a tea bag in each mug, the dark circles that marred your face almost broke Jason’s heart.

“You’ll find that it’s the other way around.” But before he could open his mouth to object, the rest of his siblings burst into the apartment, led by a frazzled Dick.

“How!”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t yell in my apartment Richard, I don’t want a noise complaint.” Dick’s jaw shut with an audible click, his shoulders slouching in defeat.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good dog.” Steph cooed as she strutted past, her own mask already off and safely tucked into her belt. She gunned straight for the freshly poured tea. The others shambled around the stunned man, each finding their own spot in your apartment.

The air was stale with questions that none of them wanted to ask though the answers were obvious. Damian settled himself beside you, the top of his head just barely peeking out over the top of the stone counter. The blank white eyes of his mask were fixed on the steaming mugs.

“This is acceptable.” This time your laugh was genuine as you gently pushed the largest mug towards the 10 year old who quickly snatched it off the counter. Jason noticed the way the tension in your shoulders gradually eased as each of his siblings took their own tea, filling the room with quiet murmurings.

Dick was the last to approach you. “So you know.”

You nodded and offered him his own cup. “I know. Figured it out pretty soon after I was hired.”

He gratefully took the mug, letting its warmth seep into his gloved hands as he sank onto a chair from the dining room. You smiled sweetly at him before your attention was pulled away by Steph who interpreted for Cass. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, the fingers of your left hand brushed against the swell of your belly. “What could I have said ‘hey I know you and your kids dress up in costumes and run around Gotham at night punching people, anyway, can you sign this document?’. Bruce- Mr Wayne and I had an understanding; I don’t mention the whole bat thing and he actually starts doing work and showing up on time. Plus a great health care package.”

“Apparently that wasn’t the only package you were getting.” The words had barely left Jason’s mouth before Cass slapped the back of his head, hard. “Fuck! What was that for?” She gave him a withering look then met your eyes once more with a silent apology.

You smiled at her and continued. “I wouldn’t put it as crassly but yes, we were together. Our anniversary was supposed to be next week.”

“And now you’re pregnant.” You nodded at Duke.

“I’m 12 weeks as of yesterday.”

Tim cleared his throat but kept his eyes locked on his now empty mug. “There was an incident during patrol a few weeks ago. Bruce got hit with a new serum scarecrow had been developing and- it was really bad. He threw himself at walls and us, screaming about how he needed pain. We were only able to stop him when he knocked himself out on a pipe. He was in really bad shape, when he finally woke up after three days, he couldn’t even remember his own name.

“We all had to come home and essentially re-introduce ourselves to him but he did remember us, some just took longer than others. He recognised Cass as soon as she smiled at him while it took Dick swinging from the chandelier in the dining room for it to click.” Dick’s cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

“I did what I had to do.”

“Tt, you just wished to show off Grayson.” Damian chose to speak up then, making you jump as his voice was far closer than it had been a few minutes before. The youngest Wayne now stood at your hip, barely an inch of space between the two of you. “Father remembered me the quickest.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah definitely, it had nothing to do with you getting upset and throwing a temper tantrum for him to remember.” Damian glared at his older brother but made no move to stray from your side.

“Anyway.” Tim continued. “After what happened we’ve been trying to help him but-“

“He’s fucking miserable.” Duke interrupted, “He has been since the accident and even more so after you quit. At least hear him out.” Duke leaned forward, planting his elbows onto the kitchen counter. “At least you should tell him about the baby so he could help support you.” His voice strained like he was on the edge of tears.

“Your father doesn’t owe me anything. I was greedy and I took too much. I-“ You choked on your words and suddenly, you were just a heartbroken girl standing in front of them. “I just want peace now so I think it would be best if you all forgot about me, about this. I get that you want to protect your father and under any other circumstance, I would agree with you but even if what you said is true, then why hasn’t he remembered me? We were together for almost four years, and saw each other every day. If he needed to see me to jog his memory or talk to me then that would’ve been solved the day he walked back into the office. He doesn’t want to remember- he doesn’t want me.”

No one spoke until you cleared your throat and turned towards the kitchen sink, your back now to the whole group. “I think you all should leave. Just forget tonight ever happened. We’re not your concern and we certainly aren’t Bruce’s. I appreciate that you all care so much but I don’t think this is something that can be fixed.”

“But-“ Steph tried.

“Please, go. This hurts enough as it is, don’t make it worse.”

Dick sighed. “She’s right. Let’s give her some space. C’mon.” You ignored the way their pitying looks burned against the back of your neck as they each walked out the door, donning their masks once more until Dick was the last one in your apartment. “Here’s my number, call if you need anything at all. And I mean anything, even if it’s for stupid cravings. You may think that Bruce abandoned you but I won’t.”

He gave your shoulder a friendly squeeze before slipping out behind his siblings.

You waited until the door shut to finally cry, not knowing that all the kids could hear you.

——————

“Do you ever want to tell them about us?” Your voice was soft, as if you were whispering a dark secret. Bruce’s heart thumped loudly beneath your ear as you rested on his naked chest. You traced the pale lines of scars that littered his torso, occasionally pressing soft kisses to his overheated skin.

His large hand cupped the back of your head as he let his lips brush against your crown. “Maybe one day princess. But I want to keep you to myself just a bit longer.” You wanted to protest but the fight was quickly stolen from you as Bruce rolled you onto your back, slotting himself between your plump thighs as you felt him harden once more. “Let me spoil my girl in peace.” Any protests you had were quickly drowned out as he pulled moans from you.

Bruce lurched up with a gasp, desperately trying to suck in oxygen as the dream replayed in his mind. It felt so real but there is no way that it could be, he would’ve remembered it by now if it was.

“Fuck.” His ribs screamed in protest at his violent awakening. Even a month after his run in with the Scarecrow, his body was barely recovering and he could feel pieces of his mind that had still yet to fit themselves back into place.

The blaring green light from the clock on his nightstand told him that he had only been asleep for an hour, an improvement after he recovered from the concussion but still not great. The cold hardwood sent a jolt of alertness up his spine, but did nothing to subdue the torrent of images that flashed in his mind every time he so much as blinked.

The curve of your shoulder as water droplets ran down your back.

Bruce rocked his weight forward and stood with a groan.

Your thick thighs wrapped around his hips as he gripped you by the waist and thrust downwards.

He slipped a shirt over his shoulders, and tugged on a pair of sweats as he headed for the door to his bedroom.

Candle light flickering across your face as you cradled him against your chest, his lips branding every inch of skin he could reach.

“What a fucking pervert.” He snarled to himself. All you had ever been was kind to him, and respectful. And yet he was imagining you in his bed. Not only in his bed, some twisted part of his mind coos. His nails bit into his palm as he swallowed thickly.

It started the first day back after his ‘accident’. Bruce vaguely knew who you were, fleeting memories of your job interview and casual conversations at the beginning of the work day. Alfred had told him of your intelligence and hard work but none of his family could recall anything other than a professional relationship between the two of you.

The second he saw you, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, just be in your presence but how could he? You were young, his secretary and you would be in danger if he indulged. And still, you remained.

For weeks, Bruce buried himself in the mystery of you. He needed to know what it was about you that captivated him. Yet none of the information he uncovered gave him answers and you still remained in his dreams. He pushed himself into patrols, into training and work. He had already been on the end of dozens of lectures from Alfred and Dick (and one very strange one from Damian), he kept pushing on.

The cave’s chill sliced through him as Bruce stepped from the elevator and he was greeted by the sight of his oldest and youngest bickering by the huge wall of monitors. He ignored them.

The police scanner was suspiciously silent as he took a seat in front of his workbench. “You shut off the alert system.” His voice was raspy from disuse but it immediately silenced his boys and drew their gaze to him.

“Grayson did it. I was just informing him how irresponsible he’s being.”

“And I was telling Damian that you need a break, desperately.”

“Chum-“

“No. I’m serious Bruce, you’re actively fucking killing yourself and I won’t let you. Jason and Cass are covering your patrols for the foreseeable future and you are staying put. I am sick of this stupid self-destruction rampage you’re going on.”

Dick’s phone suddenly rang, the default tone echoing around the cave for a moment before he fished it from his pocket and answered. “Grayson.” As the person on the other end spoke, his eyebrows scrunched and his jaw tightened.

“Which hospital are they taking you to? Ok, I’ll meet you there, just keep breathing, everything's going to be fine.” The line went dead. Dick regarded his father with a look. “I have to go but this is not the end of this conversation.” Before he could take a step towards the exit, Damian grabbed his brother’s hand.

“Is Y/N hurt?” There were moments like this where Dick cursed the fact that his little brother was so observant. He could see Bruce sit up, his focus no longer on the work in front of him.

“She’s fine, just a little scared but she’ll be alright.”

Then Damian did something so dumb, Dick knew that it was on purpose. “Is the baby ok?”

There was a beat, then another as he waited on his father’s reaction. Damian had already tried to jog his memory on the topic of you but nothing ever worked and he only succeeded in pissing off his siblings who tried to get him to understand that it wasn’t his decision to make. “The baby?” Bruce whispered like the air had just been knocked from his lungs.

Dick’s temples pulsed with the beginning of a migraine and he glowered at the young boy. “The baby is fine, they’re gonna run some tests. You stay here and we’re going to have a very long talk when I get back.”

“Y/N’s pregnant?” He ignored his father and instead shook off Damian before he jogged to the elevator. So instead Bruce looked to the boy that stood alone in front of the wall of glowing monitors. “Is-is the baby-“

“It appears as though I won’t be the youngest any longer. If you run, you could catch up.”

Bruce’s stomach dropped. “I-“

Damian glared at him. “Go.”

——————

“I’m only taking you because I think that you’re still listed as her emergency contact so I need you in order to visit.” Bruce nodded solemnly as Dick pulled into a parking spot in the hospital garage. “You will not talk to her, you won’t even fucking look at her.” He took his father’s silence as agreement.

The powerful engine cut off and without another word, he stepped from the car, expecting Bruce to follow behind. Bruce had always hated hospitals, the air too stale from all the cleaning chemicals they used, the silence, the blinding lights. But if you were here, he would spend the rest of his life on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs just to make sure you were safe.

“I’m here to see Y/N Y/L/N, she called me from the ambulance.” The older nurse at the check-in desk raised her eyebrow at the pair.

“She’s in room 335. Down the hall, third door on your right.”

“Thank you.” Bruce trailed along behind his son, the questions in his mind building up higher and higher with each step he took. But all he could concentrate on was if you were ok.

Dick gave him a warning look as they reached the room. “It’s me, can I come in?” There was a muffled response and then Dick slipped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him.

The hall was now only filled with the beeping machines from other rooms and the occasional call over the pa system, leaving nothing to distract Bruce from the fear that curled around his heart. He knew what he was going to do was a bad idea, one that could have the potential to destroy not only any redemption with you but might fracture the already tumultuous relationship he had with his son.

But he had to see you, just once.

As quietly as he could, Bruce grabbed the door handle and slowly pushed his way in, praying that the hinges didn’t squeak.

“I’m ok, I just got a bit dizzy and fell down like 1 step. I think the ambulance was totally unnecessary.”

Dick shook his head. “Will you just let someone take care of you for once?”

You chuckled softly and took his hand in such a maternal fashion, it made Bruce’s heart lurch in his chest. “I called, didn't I?”

The door swung fully open, hitting the wall behind with a resounding thud. Both your attentions snapped to Bruce.

You sat up in bed on the opposite side of the room, dressed in a flimsy hospital gown and illuminated by harsh lights but you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Your fading smile was tired and your eyes bloodshot from crying and Bruce realised that you were comforting Dick, not the other way around. He hadn’t seen you smile in so long.

“Why is he here?” You hissed and visibly curled in on yourself, arms around your stomach.

“Bruce-“

“I know you.”

He knew each dip and bump and curve of your soft body, the colour of your eyes in the sun and how different they were under fluorescent lights, which hairstyle you wore indicating what mood you were in.

He knew your insecurities and your trauma, you hated humidity but didn’t mind the heat, the names of all your plants, and the way you would smile just a bit brighter and just a bit wider when children or animals were around.

He knew you loved him.

Bruce Wayne knew he loved you.

“I-I know you.” His voice shook as he took a step towards you yet this time, you didn’t flinch away. “Sunny. My sun. My light.”

“Bruce.” A tear rolled down your cheek.

“I’m so sorry.” He fell to his knees beside you, his head bowed. “I’m sorry my love. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t- Why couldn’t I remember?” He sobbed.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Your fingers, your perfect delicate fingers, brushed away his tears before you gently cupped his cheeks, lifting his gaze back up to meet yours.

“I was so horrible to you, I didn’t know. And you’re- god you’re pregnant.” His hands slid up the side of the bed, cupping your thigh over the scratchy hospital blankets. You nodded and guided them higher so his palms spread over your growing stomach. “Wow I guess I really did do the filling huh?”

“Oh god, ‘m gonna throw up.”

You laughed as Bruce bashfully looked over at his son. “Sorry chum.”

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, by the time I get back, you two better be fully dressed.” Your lips snapped shut as you looked away in embarrassment and it was Bruce’s turn to chuckle.

“Sunny, I’m so sorry, you deserved so much better.”

“Will you stop that? I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“But it still hurt you and I made a promise to never do that. So please, let me grovel.” He laid his head onto your thigh while you threaded your fingers into his hair.

“What made you remember?”

“Your smile. I realised that I would always remember your smile and then everything came flooding back.”

“You’re a fucking sap you know that.” You tugged on his hair but Bruce just smiled dumbly at you before he smirked.

“Marry me.”

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vaztori · 2 years ago

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hey, welcome to jeonride's jeon wonwoo reading list part 1 ! (click the navigation if you want another reading list/ fic recs!)

navigation

FICTS ! ✧*。

Just Ask (fluff, smut, boyfriend!wonwoo) by @idyllic-ghost

Getting Closer (angst, smut, horror ft. joker!wonwoo and chief inspector female!reader) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Red Lights (incubus!wonwoo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Amour-Haine & Co. (smut, enemies to lovers) by @wonwoosthetic

Crush 03 (fluff, mention of sex, mechanic!au) by @gyukult

GAM3 BO1 (smut, fluff)

The King's Red Rose (smut, royal au) by my lovely sunny ! @sunnylovespickles

SIX-THIRTY (smut, boyfriend!woo) by @cheolhub

Favorite (smut, teacher!woo) by @wonusite

Sweet Eye Candy (smut) by @idyllic-ghost

Chase Me, Make Me Yours (smut, angst) by @wonuhour

Warm Encounters (smut) by @flowerboykun

Roommates with Benefits (smut) by @shuaflix

Favorite Poison (smut, fluff) by @lovelyhan

Sweet Darling (w/ chan) by @bitchlessdino

Love You Twice (smut) by @toruro

Wedding Weekends (fluff) by @suhnshinehaos

By Line (ceo!wonwoo x reporter!reader) by @wonwussy

Blood Love : One More Taste (smut, vampire!wonwoo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Blood Love pt. 2 (smut, vampire!wonwoo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Sharing is Caring but I don't Care (all fluff, hybrid!woo) by @gamerwoo

Payment Due! (smut, camboy!woo) by @solarwonux

Blind Spot (smut, enemies with benefits) by @sluttywonwoo

All to Yourself (smut, best friend!woo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

POV (fluff, hurt/comfort) by @by-soleil

Lavender Tea & Honey (smut, fluff) by @peachybun-bun

Working Late (smut, husband!wonwoo) by @number1mingyustan

Cat Got Your Tongue? (smut, angry sex) by @number1mingyustan

Deluxe Version (fluff, dash of angst) by @darl-ings

Have Mercy (smut, rough sex) by @sluttyminghao

His Favorite Color is Blue (angst, fluff) by @euphoricsunflowers

Feelings (fluff) by @markberries

Hardcover (fluff) by @markberries

I'm a Swimming Fool (college au) by @glowonu

You VS The Universe (fluff) by @cheolism

First Kiss (fluff, barista!woo) by @ally-127

Mine (smut) by @peachybun-bun

Heads in The Cloud, Landing Among Stars (fluff, pilot!wonwoo) by @twogyuu

Four Years (fluff, exes to lovers) by @kyufessions

Needy (smut, jealous sub!wonwoo) by @cheolhub

Love Me Tender The Series (smut, sub!woo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

Yours (Pt. 2 of POV) by @by-soleil

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

gentle on the streets, freak on the sheets (by @multi-kpop-fanfics)

you're the prettiest during sex to him (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

neighbor!wonwoo jerks himself off (smut) by @cheolhub

fucking detective!wonwoo on a train (smut) by @jeongwife

you use safeword during sex (smut, comfort) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

thigh riding (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

fucking while you're pregnant (husband!woo) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

look at me (smut) by @peachybun-bun

coworker!wonwoo (smut) pt.2 & pt.3 by @euphoricsunflowers

02.47 am (fluff) by @gyuslcve

you have your me (fluff, comfort)

daylight (fluff)

dad!wonwoo (fluff, implied smut)

making out (smut, soft dom!wonwoo)

fucking on the kitchen counter (smut)

sucking his dick while his working (smut)

him sucking your tits (fluff, boyfriend!woo)

him asking you to sit on his face (smut)

hard + fluff thoughts (boyfriend!woo)

sucking + kissing his tattoo (smut)

pervert gamer!woo (smut)

gamer boyfriend!wonwoo | 2nd ver

professor!wonwoo (smut)

fucking lawyer!wonwoo (smut)

nsfw sleepover (smut)

wonwoo hard thoughts (fluff, smut)

fwb (kitten!woo, mistress kink)

active during nighttime ( hybrid black panther!wonwoo and hybrid cat!reader)

smut, established relationship (also fluff)

[09.00pm] (all fluff!)

late night walk (fluff)

does he could make you feel good as i do? (racer!wonwoo)

more myself than i am (fluff)

vvwonwoovv is on live! (streamer!wonwoo)

he spoils you so much (smut, ft.mingyu)

[04.01pm] (smut)

him obsessed with your body after giving birth (smut, dad! wonwoo)

body worship (smut, kinda)

bedtime routine (fluff)

fireplace (fluff, kinda smut).

cuddling (fluff)

69 (smut)

car sex (smut)

take care of me (sub!wonwoo)

needy sub!wonwoo (smut)

workplace rivals (smut)

of shy smiles & misunderstanding (fluff)

waiting (fluff)

childish joy (fluff)

two umbrellas (fluff)

14:28 (fluff, contains bodyworship)

cuffed (smut, wonwoo is a sub sorta???)

fucked by office mate (smut)

#wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #reading #seventeen fanfic

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malt-rants-and-stuff · 20 days ago

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@sunnfish okay Take Two!!! hello sunny sunnfish you wonderful sea creature! I was your secret santa for the @ssmygiftexchange! so sorry for the delay on this, my scheduled post was taken by the tumblr void and I wasn't home with my laptop to remake this post haha.

Your prompt was shirashiro college roommates au and prev pres, hanzawa, and tashiro hang out!! hope i was able to do this justice, this is officially the longest oneshot ive posted :)

Now with an Ao3 version, i would recommend reading there because Tumblr messed up some of my formatting and I can't fix it right now ^_^

Summary:

Tashiro and Shirahama are college roommates. It's a relatively peaceful life.

A non-linear story written for the sasamiya & hirakagi winter gift exchange!

As it turns out, moving in with a guy that you’ve known for almost half your life is pretty unremarkable.

Maybe it has something to do with being too familiar with each other. There have been too many sleepovers for the sound of snores to phase him, too many gym classes for the sight of skin to fluster him, too much time for anything to feel awkward between them. And yet…

And yet.

Packing your whole life into boxes is pretty hard, as it turns out. Looking around his room now it seems hard to imagine how it’ll feel to see the whole place emptied out. Cleared of every reminder of himself.

Tashiro tries not to think about it so hard as he turns back towards the closet. He’s never felt the need to go through everything he had stuffed in there until now, remnants of the past mixing with comforts of the present.

He reaches out to grab one of the hangers, pulling it free. His ping-pong jacket, he thinks despairingly, is slowly becoming small on him. His name spelled across the back in white lettering brings him back to when he first noticed. The growth spurts he’s been having refuse to slow even for a moment, and though he likes that some days, it mainly makes him face annoying things like this.

If he leaves the jacket, it will probably be packed up and put away somewhere to be forgotten. He can picture it now, sitting in a box stuffed away as it slowly fades from his memory. It makes him feel sort of heavy. But, if he takes it with him, he’s not sure it would be much better in the long run. Just holding it in his hands reminds him of how much time has passed. Of how fast it will keep passing.

He stands there, gears turning haphazardly in his mind, as he tries to breathe it all in.

Then, a knock.

His eyes dart to his doorway in surprise– knowing none of his family was home right now– only to remember that he’d invited the others to help him out.

Shirahama stands in front of him, knuckles resting against the already ajar door. His slightly bored face and tellingly awkward posture show that he hadn’t expected to be the first to arrive.

“Is your doorbell broken?” He asks as his socked feet pad their way into the room. “I tried using it, for once, but from that look I guess you didn’t hear.”

Tashiro finds himself a little amused by this, as he knows for a fact Shirahama has his own key. Perks of coming over to play games most weekends out of the year. He remembers them making jokes about going into each other's fridges while no one was home when they traded keys.

“Nah, guess I was just distracted,” He says with a casual shrug, placing the jacket back in the closet.

Shirahama gives him a questioning look. “I thought you were moving out, not back in.” His friend jokes as he passes Tashiro, grabbing a couple of shirts from the closet alongside the jacket.

He feels his eyebrow twitch in a way that reminds him a little of Hanzawa; and what a scary thought that is.

“I’m feeling indecisive.” He says, his mouth twisting to match how the word makes him feel. All twisted up and confused.

Shirahama turns to the side to face him, having stacked more clothes into his arms that look to be on the verge of falling to the floor. “About what? If you should take your whole house with you?”

That jacket. If I should re-dye my hair. Growing up. You. The future.

“What if we paint all the walls yellow?” He says instead of the hundreds of things his racing mind pushes forward.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Shirahama responds resolutely, his eyes showing no room for argument. Not that Tashiro will let that stop him.

“Or maybe green? Something bright.” He continues on, stepping away from his thoughts to grab the jacket out of the teetering pile and place it to the side. “Actually, scratch that, blue would be great too.”

Shirahama gives him a withering look that has no effect on his enthusiasm. Now that he’s thinking about it, the fact that he isn’t going to make these kinds of decisions on his own anymore is pretty fun. He’ll have a roommate, a friend to work through his troubles with. The thought makes him feel lighter.

“Hey, d’you still want this?” Shirahama asks some time later, long after Kuresawa and Miyano have come and gone. Tashiro looks up from the stack of boxes he’d just finished labeling.

“Oh, yeah I almost forgot!” He says as he takes his jacket, tying it around his waist for safekeeping. He really hopes he didn’t overestimate how much closet space he has.

It’s only a few hours after the final box has been unloaded and the moving van is hauled off when Tashiro makes a chilling discovery.

“Dude, we have no food.” He says, eyes staring at the bleak emptiness of their new fridge.

“Yup,” Shirahama responds as he walks up beside him, handing Tashiro a scrunchie in a sort of placating manner.

Tashiro’s shoulders droop with the weight of his exhaustion. Moving was one of the most tiring things he’s ever done, and coming from him that’s saying something.

Turning away from the depressing artificial fridge lighting, Tashiro turns toward the kitchen counter behind him and grabs his keys. As wrecked as he might feel, the growls of his stomach refuse to be ignored. “I’ll go buy something quick,” He says.

“Ah- wait, I have an idea,” Shirahama says suddenly. Back straightening, he moves away from the fridge of doom over to a bag of housewarming gifts the others had left. It was mostly a small array of gag gifts, little plant pots shaped like ping pong balls and a lampshade shaped like a pudding cup, but in a small container alongside the rest was something else. A saving grace for the hungry:

A tub of butter.

Tashiro looks at it in confusion, asking if his friend was really that hungry.

Shirahama smirks, “With food, no container is ever as it seems.”

He opens the tub’s lid, revealing its contents. Inside is not butter, but a large frozen serving of chicken soup. Tashiro feels his jaw drop as he gasps in disbelief.

Quickly shaking himself of his shock, Tashiro grins brightly. He takes the soup and stuffs it into the microwave, but Shirahama stops him from starting the timer.

“Y’know it would taste better if you put it in a pot instead.” Shirahama says, his hand gently clasped around Tashiro’s wrist in a way that he chooses not to internalize. His fingers are a little cold.

“But it’s already cooked.”

“So? You can still warm it up in the pot. Plus it’ll make it taste closer to how it’s supposed to.” Shirahama retorts, opening the microwave and placing the tub on the counter as he goes to try and find a pot in the sea of boxes.

Tashiro stays behind as he thinks. He hadn’t ever had a reason to go so far out of his way to warm up food before. He feels himself smile a bit, the first change he’ll have to get used to in this new life.

As it turns out, keeping a relatively small apartment clean is a little difficult when you’re living on your own as two messy 18 year olds.

They tried the whole chore chart thing at first, Shirahama said he used to have one at his parent’s house and it worked fine. But, well, it’s a little different when it’s just them.

The dishes are stood in a precarious stack, plates and glasses towering in ways gravity should never allow. Tashiro faces his task with a body radiating reluctance.

He’s been busy the entire week. Classes and work keep him out of the house, and even when he is home he prefers to spend time relaxing or hanging out with Shirahama. He had forgotten about his chore, and now it’s become a problem.

Carefully reaching towards the tower, he grabs the cups first and goes for the sponge right as Shirahama walks out from his room.

He has his hair held back by a headband, because my bangs are a nightmare right now, he’d explained the other day.

He walks towards the kitchen and looks at Tashiro, who has begun to work through the dishes.

“…Need any help?” He asks as he reaches toward the kitchen cabinet, pulling out the chips he’d come for.

“Oh, no I’m good,” Tashiro responds, though the overwhelmed look in his eyes doesn’t match his words.

Hm. Shirahama puts his chips down on the counter, turning towards the sink and stepping up beside his friend. “I’ll dry and you wash, okay?” He says with a smile.

Tashiro blinks at him for a moment, lips parted in an ‘o’, before he nods and sends back a smile of his own.

They make it through everything eventually, though not without some effort and accidental water sprays. They decide afterwards to just do the dishes together, just to save them time.

There's this strange sensation that comes for him one day. The apartment is dark, the steady hum of the aircon welcoming him home, and immediately something feels amiss.

Tashiro kicks off his shoes, only to turn back around and place them carefully on the shoe rack. He always forgets that it’s something he should worry about now. Keeping his home in order was never really a big deal before, it was usually only him spending time there anyways.

Passing through the short hallway, his eyes catch on a small black and red container. He looks around suspiciously, but finds no sign of Shirahama. Crossing the creaky floorboards, he inspects the tupperware and finds a green sticky note pressed onto the lid.

Went to a mixer.

Put this in a pot and try eating real food for once

Tashiro blinks away his shock. His eyes trace over the words on the note. Again, then again.

Thump

His hands warm the plastic as he goes to hold it, and a smile breaks out across his face. He’ll have to say thanks later.

Placing his food back onto the counter, he turns to go change. He feels anticipation swirl around inside of him, and even without tasting the soup, Tashiro feels warm.

Tashiro finds out in the second month of living with his best friend that they’re maybe not the best at making their place livable.

“How have you guys been living like this?” Miyano asks, part judging and part concerned. They’re standing in the living room, which consists of a couch, a tv, and a shelf balanced on two boxes that they use as a coffee table. The tv sits on the floor with a console, video game cases stacked beside it.

It’s not like they haven’t talked about decorating. They joked about it before moving, and made plans about what they wanted to do. The plans just… didn’t end up happening.

At some point between the exhausting move-in and the rush of classes starting up, decorating didn’t feel like that urgent of a thing.

But now classes have been in session for a while, and they still haven’t bothered with it.

The click of Kuresawa’s camera bounces off the empty walls. “A total bachelor pad,” he says, sounding just to the left of impressed. “My girlfriend was wondering what it looks like when two college guys live together.”

Tashiro groans at that, knowing that another classing girlfriend ramble is on its way.

“We live just fine,” Shirahama says, and as if on cue the boxes fold into themselves, sending the shelf clattering to the floor. Right.

They decide to go furniture shopping, just to make sure that they don’t have to deal with any more Looks from Miyano or paparazzi from Kuresawa.

Tashiro suppresses a laugh, pointing towards a table with odd looking fish for legs, “We need that.” Shirahama laughs along with him, but shakes his head.

“We have a budget, we’re only getting what we absolutely need.” He reminds Tashiro. His eyes turn towards a yellow and white coffee table that is practically calling for him. He turns away.

Tashiro salutes him, and doesn’t retaliate when Shirahama gives him a playful shove in response. He turns around and walks towards a different part of the store, twisting strands of his hair between his fingers as he goes. He really needs to touch up his roots.

Spotting something on a shelf, he picks it up. It’s a decorative statue, a silver painted hare taking a nap. He smirks and turns around, walking back to Shirahama. “Hey, look, I found you…” he starts to say before trailing off, eyes focusing on Shirahama’s side profile.

His eyes look focused in the way they always do when he’s overthinking something simple. His brows are pinched and his thumb is pressed flat on the side of his lip. Tashiro breathes in the expression, and decides he can show him later.

Laughter reverberates through the restaurant, one table in particular shining with rays of excitement and teasing.

“No, but seriously, how many more piercings can you get?” Tashiro questions dramatically, standing from his seat to stretch across the table and investigate. Hanzawa only laughs behind his hands and turns his head, showing off another new hole in his ear.

“If you ask that every time you’ll keep giving yourself a headache,” says the eldest one at the table, the previous ping pong president in all his red haired glory smirks mischievously and pats Tashiro’s back.

Crossing his arms and dropping back into his seat, Tashiro tries to keep up an air of frustration. It lasts about a second before he breaks out into a smile of his own.

These little meet-ups are a lot of fun for him. It’s not every day that all three of them are in one place. Especially not with their current schedules. It’s a nice break from the busy life he’s been settling into.

He feels his heart warm as he sits with his friends, ready to bring up his latest win in his college ping pong club, when his phone vibrates. Flipping it over, he sees that Shirahama texted him.

Divorce Soon: hey r you home

I left my jacket and this place is freezing

He pauses to consider. He’s not very far from the apartment, he could run there, grab it, and drop it off pretty quickly. But… he glances up from his phone to the two in front of him. He doesn’t want to leave yet. But… looking back at his phone he sees the spam of crying emoji’s Shirahama has begun sending.

“Hey guys, sorry but my roommate needs me to get him something,” he says with an awkward expression. The conversation pauses as the two process what he said. “Oh sure, you need a ride?” His absolutely genius red haired friend offers, pulling his keys out as he says it.

“Yes!” Tashiro replies as his expression lights up. He tells Shirahama he’s on the way, and they head out towards the parking lot.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Tashiro fiddles with the edge of his shirt. He tries not to move too much, looking back and forth from his hands to Shirahama. His friend has that same look in his eyes that he did back in middle school art class. Focused, determined, trying and failing to keep paint off of his face. Only this time the paint is a bright yellow dye.

They’ve been like this for a while. He hums along to the music playing from his phone. His butt feels a little numb and he has counted and recounted the tiny floor tiles at least a million times, all 173- no, 175 of them. He tries to focus his attention on anything but the gloved hands in his hair.

He carefully reaches over for his phone, switching the playlist to a random one he saw in his recommendations.

It’s not as if he couldn’t survive in silence for a little while. He usually doesn’t have anyone else to do this for him, so silence is kind of a given.

But as he taps the beat into his leg and opens his mouth, no words come out. He lets the silence linger even as Shirahama begins humming the words to a song he remembers coming out in their first year. He thinks about laying on the floor of his bedroom, phone conversations bouncing off his poster-lined walls and music blasting.

He remembers the telltale clicks and clacks from the other end of the call, the curses against ridiculous route mechanics spilling into his ears.

Tashiro feels like this is sort of like those moments, just a little bit more. His legs are longer, his hair can go into a ponytail now, and his world feels so much bigger. His eyes turn towards the boy-technically-man in front of him. His eyes look sharper and his face is more angular.

But, in a lot of ways he feels the same as he always has. The same Shirahama who cried during their graduation, and sat next to him on their first day of middle school. The same Shirahama who bullies him for counting on his fingers, but forgets what comes after 3 when he’s drunk enough.

The same yet different Shirahama. They match in that way, at least. Both the same, but not fully.

“I… think I’m done?” Shirahama says, breaking their steady silence. Tashiro stands to go look in the mirror. He giggles at the sight of his foil-wrapped hair sticking out at odd angles.

Shirahama laughs along with him, and it really isn’t that funny, but they still stand there giggling like idiots. Tashiro pulls at the corner of his shirt again, turning around and raising it up to Shirahama’s face and wiping away some of the dye.

He drops his shirt and turns back to the mirror, looking at the two of them in the reflection. He watches the way Shirahama’s face stays frozen, and how his whole face flushes like it always has. It’s nice to see some things will never change.

#malt rants #malt writes #sasaki to miyano #sasaki and miyano #tashiro gonzaburou #gonzaburou tashiro #tashiro gonzaburo #shirahama kyouji #kyouji shirahama #shirashiro #hanzawa masato #prev pres #miyano yoshikazu #kuresawa tasuku #fanfic #ssmyhrkgwinterexchange2024 #ssmygiftexchange

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ithinkyouhealedmyheart · 2 months ago

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Carlos x Reader

In which Roxy stumbles upon some BTR fanfiction while scrolling through the big time rush tag on tumblr and this is the fic she decides to read.

credit to @myloveforhergoeson for a) giving me the idea with her post ab roxy and fan content, and b) her oc Roxy Somerset

a/n: I accidentally defaulted to fem reader, no specific season it's set in but Roxy and James are dating ofc

Mornings were always bright and sunny at the PalmWoods. Y/n woke up with a familiar fluttering in her stomach. It was the weekend, so she didn't have class, so she didn't have to wait for a particular boyband after work. She had quite a crush on one of the members. Y/n threw on clothes for the day and practically raced downstairs. She didn't want to waste a moment.

A particular songwriter sat on the lounge chairs with her band, busily scribbling something on her songbook. Roxy Somerset was the coolest girl around. Y/n wasn't necessarily friends with her because she was too embarrassed to talk to her, but she hoped that she and Roxy would be the best of friends. She hoped one day they could gossip about boys and share secrets. She could even get invited to a sleepover.

Roxy glanced up, feeling a pair of eyes watching her. She noticed Y/n not necessarily hovering by the door, but it looked as though she didn't want to move into the pool area. The songwriter didn't know her personally, but Tyler told her that Y/n was an aspiring actress. Since she had to follow her band around and keep them out of trouble, she didn't have the opportunity to formally introduce herself. She had meant to get to know more of the PalmWoods residents to familiarize herself with all the new kids brought in by the new school year.

"Rox?" James leaned over. He wanted to show her something new he found in the latest issue of Pop Tiger. "Roxy?" The brunette followed her gaze and raised a brow. "Do you know her?"

"No, but I think she's looking over here?"

"I get it. She's stunned that the James Diamond is here in the flesh." James wiggled his fingers and pursed his lips, making his glamour face.

"Yeah, no, I don't think you're the one that has her eye." Roxy chuckled and playfully shoved her boyfriend. "She's staring at Carlos."

"What!" The guys were startled when James shrieked. Logan, Carlos, and Kendall turned to look at him. "How could she be looking at him? I'm the pretty one!"

"Might I remind you, you have a girlfriend?" Logan chimed in. Roxy rolled her eyes and closed her songbook.

"Instead of being creepy, I will talk to her."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." James caught her by the wrist before she could walk away. "Don't say anything too harsh,"

"What could I say?" Roxy furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Oh, I dunno, that she's staring at Carlos instead of talking to him?"

"I can handle this. I'm a girl." Roxy cracked a small smile. "Plus, I know how crushes work."

"Awe! You had a crush on me?"

Roxy's face was tinted red, and she yanked her hand away. "I didn't say that!"

Before James could say anything else, the songwriter made her way to the girl in the lobby. It had been forever since Carlos had an actual date, and his friends had been trying to set him up with a girlfriend. Y/n ducked and tried to hide around the corner. Seeing Roxy Somerset walking up to her made her heart pound. She pinched herself, half expecting to wake up in her bed. She would be fine if this was a dream. Oh God, if only it was a dream.

"Whatcha doing?" Roxy smiled warmly as she leaned around the corner. The songwriter was friendly, but Y/n was expecting something else.

"...Hi." Y/n was nervous already. She was shaking like a leaf.

"I'm Roxy, and I don't think I've seen you around."

"...Y/n."

"So, what are you here for?"

"Huh?"

"Are you a singer? Songwriter? Actress? Novelist? Stunt double?"

"I- I guess actress..."

"You guess?" Roxy tilted her head.

"Actress- I am an actress." Y/n was tense like a slinky.

"Well, Ms. Actress, I couldn't help but notice you staring at BTR out there. Are you a fan?"

"Of course! I love their music, but my favorite has to be their first album!"

"Why, thank you."

Y/n blinked twice. For a moment, she completely forgot she was talking to the songwriter for Big Time Rush.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry-"

"For what? You don't have to apologize for anything." Roxy chuckled. "You're a fan; it's okay." It was surreal that the songwriter for BTR was so friendly and kind. "Who's your favorite band member?"

Y/n was startled, and her face flushed; she stared at Roxy with wide eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Everyone has a favorite band member." Roxy shrugged. "I mean, personally, James is my favorite, but that's because-"

"You're dating?" Y/n finished her sentence accidentally. "My uhh- My favorite is... Carlos..." She whispered the last part.

"What was that?" Roxy smirked slightly.

"Carlos." Y/n covered her face with her hands. "I can't help it! He's just so cute!"

"Well, you're in luck! He's single!" Roxy thought that this was the perfect opportunity since they'd been trying to get Carlos a girlfriend.

What she didn't account for was that Carlos would be currently freaking out in apartment 2J because the only dates he'd ever been on were double dates with James, and the girls had spent the entire time swooning over the brunette. Logan, James, Roxy, and Kendall sat on the couch, watching the boy with the helmet pace back and forth. He was speaking much faster than any of them could comprehend.

"Okay, dude. It's going to be okay." Kendall stood and grabbed Carlos by the shoulders. "She likes you, and all you have to do is... Not be yourself."

"Uhm, can I interject?" Roxy stood up. "Don't take that advice. Girls want you to be yourself."

"Don't talk about corndogs, hockey, or video games."

"No. She'll be happy if you're passionate about something."

"Yes, but not those things."

"Can everybody stop talking!" Carlos snapped. The blonde let go of him and took a step back. "I- I don't know what to do, and you two are just rattling things off at me, and it's only making things worse!"

"If anything, you should listen to me. I landed Roxy." James chimed in from the couch. Roxy shot him a look, and he covered his face with a throw pillow in fear.

"You know what? I don't think I need advice. Yeah! I'll be fine!" Carlos tapped his helmet twice, and then Kendall snatched it from him.

"And you most certainly cannot wear your helmet."

"But- "

"It's a date in the park. You should let him wear it if he feels comfortable wearing it." Roxy took Kendall's helmet and handed it back to Carlos.

James peered over her shoulder, squinting at the computer screen. He gasped once he read a couple of lines.

"Why are you reading Carlos fanfiction? Wait, fanfiction- "

Roxy snapped her laptop shut and spun around.

"Why are you looking over my shoulder?"

"You were paying way too much attention to your laptop. I thought you were writing music or something, not- not reading fanfiction!"

"Hey! You can't judge me for reading fanfiction."

"I'm not judging. I just don't get why you're reading Carlos fanfiction."

"Because there is way too much James Diamond fanfiction." Roxy chuckled when he gasped.

"Someone say my name?" Carlos looked away from the screen for a split second.

Roxy was in 2J's living room while the guys played video games. She figured that while they were occupied, she could scroll through the fan content written for the band. It was uplifting reading and watching all the fan content that was being made; it was nice to know the fans cared so much. Not only was there X reader fanfiction for the boys in the band, but she also found a few X reader fics about herself.

"Hah! Take that!" Kendall laughed and nudged Carlos. "You lose!"

"Hey! No, fair!" Carlos' jaw dropped, and he nudged Kendall back.

Roxy rolled her eyes and scooted away. She eyed James cautiously. So far, she had been invested in the story, but he had just so happened to take her out of the immersion. Better yet, she forgot her place in the story.

Next time, she's reading fanfiction in her room.

#btr #btrtv #big time rush #btr fanfiction #in universe fanfiction #oc; roxy somerset #ash tag #fanfiction for ash #carlos garcia x reader #in universe rpf #i know it's short im sorry #i hope i got roxy's character somewhat right

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ask-the-ghoul-pack · 10 months ago

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Cirrus, Cumulus, Sunshine and Aurora! Girls weekend where we all go shopping and have a huge sleepover?

🌫-Mist

YESSSSSS. I don't care what the other girls say, I'm dragging them along. - Sunny 🌞

#ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #Sunshine

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deckerstarblanche · 2 years ago

Text

Welcome to Chapter 1 of my CSSNS23 entry: “An Offer She Can’t Refuse”!

Huge thanks to @undercaffinatednightmare for the gorgeous art, and to @ultraluckycatnd for being the perfect hand-holding beta ❤️.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48705193/chapters/122860717

An Offer She Can’t Refuse

Chapter One

Emma was standing alone in her dorm’s communal kitchen area when it happened. The first sign of trouble was a prickling feeling from head to toe, causing her whole body to break out in goosebumps.

She was shaking a jumbo box of Milk Duds, impatiently waiting for her popcorn to finish popping so she could combine the two into her favorite salty sweet comfort snack.

The microwave dinged, so she ignored the fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead, calmly pouring the chocolate and caramel drops over the hot popcorn and watching it melt together into gooey goodness.

How is it possible to be both hot and cold at the same time? Emma wondered, willing herself to believe that it could just be a cold — just last month, she had missed out on a spring break trip with her girlfriends because of the flu — so she hurried back to her room, eager to get under the covers and chill out.

That evening, her friend Killian had come over for a long-awaited movie night, which they usually did as a foursome with their respective roommates, Mary Margaret and David. Their friends had been a couple all year, completely smitten since they met on the very first first weekend of the fall semester, and stayed glued at the hip ever since.

Luckily for Emma, they tended to have their sleepovers in David’s room; wherever Killian spent the night, she didn’t really want to know.

That particular evening they’d had to cancel, in order to answer nature’s call: David’s rut arrived three days earlier than expected. The college provided free, on campus Safe Houses for exactly this purpose, but their reservation system was fully booked, leaving them no choice but to pack quickly and speed over to his family’s nearby vacation cabin to ride it out. Emma helped her nervous, excited roommate pack that morning, lending her a large tote bag to fill with all of her most treasured comfort items: a baggy navy hoodie that David presented to her on the first blustery day of fall, a hand-sewn quilt passed down from mother to daughter for five generations, and a small fluffy pillow Emma got her as a birthday present. It was a sunny yellow (Mary Margaret’s favorite color), and had “What’s Up Buttercup?” printed on top.

So four became two, and since Killian won first film pick in a coin toss, that night’s selection was The Godfather.

Her sweaty shakiness had ebbed by the time Emma got back to her dorm room, and she sighed with a deep sense of relief. But when she opened the door to the 12x19 foot space that she and Mary Margaret called home, already dark and movie-ready except for the glow from Killian’s iPhone, she was hit by a wave of scent so intense that it made her feel weak in the knees. It was woodsy, grassy and musky, with a virile boost of testosterone. Despite her crappy mood, it calmed her, sweeping all of her stress away.

Calmed and aroused simultaneously, as it turned out. The air around her felt thick with masculinity, and Emma’s stomach swooped in anticipation.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

One of Storybrooke College’s biggest selling points was their commitment to making the finest education accessible for Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike, regardless of designation and gender. Part of that promise involved the school's state-of-the-art filtration system, which neutralized the air in all of the co-ed facilities, including the dorms. The level of scent surrounding Emma shouldn’t have been detectable.

One of the reasons she had chosen this tiny liberal arts college, four hours away from her home in Boston, was so she could focus on her work and finish her undergraduate degree in three years. Emma had big goals: she wanted to become a Social Worker, focusing specifically on advocacy for foster kids who had the chance to avoid growing up like she did. If she intended to stay on track and on-budget (tiny schools weren’t cheap), she needed to keep her head on her work, and away from distractions.

That was why the situation she found herself in that night was so strange; after nearly a year spent living in that dorm, Emma had never picked up such a unique, personal scent other than her own, and damn it was good.

“About time you got back, Swan! I was going to start without— hey, are you alright?” Killian asked, sitting up on her bed as the grin on his face shifted to a concerned look. The deep, raspy timbre of his unused voice caused a shiver to race down Emma’s spine, almost making her drop the bowl. She ground her jaw shut, willing the ventilation system’s scent blockers to kick in.

“Yeah, it’s nothing… Please, just hand me my blanket and pillow backrest thingie, and you try my famous caramel chocolate popcorn,” she muttered, shoving the bowl into his lap in exchange for her stuff. He whined a little at the loss of her comfy bedding, but he knew better than to cross her about it.

Emma did not mess around when it came to pillows and blankets: last September, when the girls on her floor had a “best nest” competition, Emma and Mary Margaret won first place in a fierce competition by completely transforming their room into a scene from 1,001 Arabian Nights. They went all out, decorating the room with gauze-covered hanging lanterns, and nearly covering their floor with colorful lounging pillows and soft cushions. They even served Moroccan Mint tea in glass cups, poured from an authentic-looking tea set Mary Margaret borrowed from the theater department.

Climbing onto Mary Margaret’s bed, Emma cocooned herself in the huge fleece blanket and set her backrest against the wall, sighing peacefully as she sank against the support.

She tried not to notice how the blanket seemed to have absorbed that irresistible, masculine scent into its fibers, surrounding her and overwhelming her senses. But Emma knew she could hold steadfast against the urge to give in to her hormones. Back in high school, she spent too much time kissing frogs: worthless boys who thought dating an Omega meant that she’d be a submissive, sex-crazed robot.

If nothing else, those experiences made Emma Swan an expert at hiding her true feelings and stuffing them deep down inside.

The fact that her entire body was literally and figuratively burning with desire had nothing to do with Killian, who was an Alpha himself. From what she could see in the dark room, he was unaware of her meltdown. She just needed to get through the movie. If she could keep up the charade that all was well, she could see to her own needs once he was safely back on his side of the dorm.

Besides, Emma had heard enough chatter about Killian’s adventurous love life to know that she should steer clear. They had built a good friendship over the school year, and she valued it far too much to ruin things; exactly what would happen if she became another notch on his headboard.

While she couldn’t fully control her body’s reactions at the moment, her brain helpfully reminded her about what he’d told her back in September. Killian wasn’t looking to become a one-woman guy anytime soon, and Emma had no interest in being anyone’s plaything ever again. There was no reason that she couldn’t make it through tonight.

Somehow.

“Shall we watch, then? I still cannot believe you’ve only seen The Godfather once! That’s a bloody crime, Swan— you have to see it as many times as possible in order to really appreciate Coppola’s genius,” Killian quipped smugly, and she glared at the outline of him shaking his head and chuckling at her expense.

Good, she thought to herself. He hasn’t even noticed that I’m freaking out over here, and he doesn’t ever have to know. I can resist this...

“Yeah, ok, Roger Ebert. The deal was that if I watched the whole movie, you’d give the Milk Dud-melted popcorn a legitimate try, so eat up!” Emma sassed, trying to deflect attention from her shaky voice as he clicked through the dvd’s menu.

“You’ve certainly gotten the better end of the deal, love. This popcorn concoction of yours looks fucking disgusting. Do I really have to eat it?” he asked with an exaggerated groan, and Emma almost bit through her lower lip to keep herself from reacting to the sound.

The speed at which her symptoms intensified made Emma’s head spin. In a few short minutes, her world had shrunken down to fit on the head of a pin. The deep-seated Omega instincts within her screamed for what only an Alpha - or the perfectly good silicone toy hidden in her underwear drawer - could provide. Worse, it seemed like her hormones didn’t care if the guy in question was her best friend— as long as both partners were attracted and consenting, Killian had what she needed to get the release she craved.

“Oh, pardon me for sharing my grubby American snack food! You come from a place where they eat stewed tomatoes and animal intestines for breakfast, so do me a favor and shut up so I can concentrate on ‘really appreciating’ Coppola’s genius,” Emma drawled in a terrible impression of his accent, rolling her eyes. He just snickered and clicked the play button, scooping a handful of popcorn out of the bowl.

As the familiar opening music played, Emma focused intently on the screen. She wouldn’t think about the Alpha lounging on her bed, and how his presence was causing her heart to beat so fast that it felt ready to burst right through her chest, Aliens style. Nope, she wouldn’t let herself fall victim to the urges rippling through her body; it was too risky. She couldn’t lose him.

########

The Godfather really was Killian’s favorite movie, but he would’ve suffered through an 24 hour marathon of *The Three Stooges* if it gave him a chance to be alone with Emma Swan.

They had only known each other for a few short months, but from the moment they met — placed in a group together at freshman orientation last August — the two of them just clicked. When their brand new roommates got hot and heavy with each other that first weekend, they both found themselves banished to the common room on Emma’s floor, where they wound up talking for hours. It was one of those friendship-cementing, life-story-sharing bonding sessions that happen so often in college.

As the weeks flashed by, they settled into a reliable, platonic friendship. During their epic talk, Emma confessed that she was on a self-imposed vacation from relationships — a messy breakup with a Beta, some hometown loser called Neal — and to mask his disappointment, Killian embellished his 19 year-old teenager’s fantasy of being a ladies’ man.

He instantly regretted his words when her beautifully expressive face shut down, so he quickly changed the subject and cracked cheesy jokes to get a smile out of her. From then on, Killian made sure they never broached the topic again, and by the fall semester’s end, they had developed a platonic bond that he treasured far more than any hookup.

Of course, that didn’t mean he’d ever stopped wanting her.

Emma never had to know that she starred in his dreams every night, but Killian wasn’t sure she’d even care. At first, it really wounded his inner Alpha’s pride that she never seemed *into* him, but Emma was complicated like that: combative one day, and cuddly the next.

Besides, he could never stay away from her for long, especially when she drank just enough to get tipsy, and she’d snuggle into his side, sliding close enough to scratch her fingers through his hair. Pathetically, he lived for these brief intimate moments, when he could inhale her fruity shampoo and a wisp of her muted scent, imagining that she was his.

One thing was for certain: she wasn’t like other girls at school, nor was she like any other Omega Killian had known in his life. Emma Swan was in a class all her own, and full of contradictions: she possessed uncommon beauty and fierce intelligence, but she could be stubborn as a mule and prickly as a pineapple. By earning her trust, he’d become one of the few allowed to know that beneath her tough exterior beat an incredibly soft and generous heart. The more time he spent in her company, from late night diner study breaks to pre-party drinking sessions with their group of friends, the more enamored he became.

Most of their fellow freshmen were living away from home for the first time in their lives, so they were more than happy to unleash, experiment, and play. Killian, along with his buddies Rob, August, and Phillip, partied almost every weekend of the fall semester, and more often than he cared to admit, he’d wake up the next morning in a random girl’s bed.

That ladies’ man lie he’d told Emma had become his reality, but he didn’t feel good about it, and he was damn lucky he hadn’t called anyone by her name. Yet.

Since there were seemingly no secrets at Storybrooke College, when word spread that Killian Jones knew exactly how to please a lady, a legend was born all on its own.

All of that female attention, along with his self-proclaimed “dashing rapscallion” nature, had earned him admiration from fellow Alphas at SBC, but it was all a ruse. In private, he tried to keep a careful distance from the women he slept with, paying more attention to their satisfaction than his own, and never engaging with an Omega in heat. Part of him felt guilty, like he was leading them on; after all, it wasn’t their fault that was hung up on Emma Swan.

Killian was raised to always strive to be a man of honor, so he never promised anyone more than he could give.

So he waited, caught in a holding pattern between the undeniable pull of Alpha ego-stroking and his lovesick puppy dog feelings for Emma, unsure if she would ever return them. In the meantime, he contented himself with her friendship, hoping that eventually she’d see him in a different light.

######

For a solid half hour, everything was normal, and the Corleone family wedding unfolded on Emma’s small, battered tv screen like it always did. As the sequence ended with father and daughter waltzing to the movie’s theme music, Emma suddenly seized up with a burning pain deep in her pelvis. Struggling for breath, she tried to hide her discomfort by burrowing further into her blanket.

Immediately, the film paused and her tiny bedside light clicked on, illuminating Killian’s worried expression in the otherwise dark room.

“Swan? Are you alright over there?” he asked, and she tried to say something to reassure him, but another flash of pain made her dig her fingernails into her palms to keep from crying out. She couldn’t speak without sounding desperately needy, so she clamped her mouth shut and breathed through her nose.

Killian was aware that something was off about Emma from the minute she walked into the room that night, but now the problem was glaringly obvious: the ventilation in her room was on the fritz. Her sweet scent, usually muted by the system, beckoned— the sudden seismic jolt of lust that rolled over him meant that Emma was starting an intense heat phase. If he was truly her friend, and a man of honor, he’d get out of her way as soon as possible.

Why couldn’t he tear himself away, then?

Suddenly, Emma sat up with a shocked expression on her face. Her eyes squeezed shut and then she shook her head, as if she was trying to clear the fog from her brain.

“Shit, no wonder I’m feeling all out of whack…I left my pills in the bag I lent to Mary Margaret for the weekend!” Emma yelped with embarrassment, as a flush crept from her chest all the way up to her face. Quickly, the sweaty-shivering feeling was back, and it continued to increase in intensity right alongside a narrowing of her focus to one thing: Alpha.

“I don’t mean to pry, love, but are those pills of yours suppressants?” Killian asked her gently, and even though she was purposefully looking away, she could still feel his gaze burning into her.

“Um, I’m not exactly sure? I’ve been taking them since I was 13, and I was too embarrassed to ask anyone at the group home — even the doctor who gave them to me — about woman-type stuff. I never missed a dose before!” Emma admitted, feeling flustered and ridiculous.

She sucked in a breath when it dawned on her: the medicine she thought she was only taking to regulate her cycle had also dramatically reduced the intensity of her quarterly heats for the past six years. Most of the other Omega girls at school constantly complained about symptoms and urges that drove them mad, but Emma figured she was just lucky.

Apparently not. How could she have been so clueless?

“Six years? That’s an awfully long time, Emma. Maybe you should call the health center, you know, check in with them about side effects and erm…” he trailed off, his face heating up as he searched his brain for the right words.

She shifted uncomfortably on her roommate’s bed, full of nerves in Killian’s presence. Most of their guy friends were Alphas too, but Emma didn’t usually give it much thought. David was around so often that she considered him more of a brother figure, or an extension of Mary Margaret. It was similar to her neutral feelings about Rob, or August, or any of the other guys in their circle; they were only friends, nothing more.

“Ugh Jones, you know I don’t like that place! The doctor over there is always so creepy,” Emma deflected with a pout, pulling her hair up into a messy bun.

With Killian, everything had always been different, in the best way. Emma wanted to be with him: they could spend hours in each other’s company, talking about anything under the sun without getting bored, or just studying together in comfortable silence. Now that she thought about it, she was always happier when he was around, more open and affectionate than she’d been with anyone else in her life.

It wasn’t until tonight that Emma knew she’d have no problem letting him help her through this little hiccup in her cycle.

At the same time, he was probably the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend, other than Mary Margaret. They just understood each other. How could she ever risk that friendship over something as trivial as sex?

But oh…imagining what it would be like to be together in that way, sharing that physical and emotional connection with him, made her tremble with a heightened sense of anticipation. She needed him to quench the flames rising inside of her.

Unbidden, an image of them in bed, sweaty and sated and intimately tied together, formed in her mind.

It was simple biology: Statistically, Alphas and Omegas had the best chance of conceiving children together. Omegas were born with enhanced fertility, and when combined with a natural lock binding them together (aka: an Alpha’s knot) was Mother Nature’s way of stacking the deck.

Advances in birth control made it possible for couples to decide when they wanted to have children, but no method was guaranteed. Emma didn’t want to leave anything to chance, so dating Beta men exclusively was her way of decreasing biology’s advantage.

With such a jumble of thoughts crowding her brain, Emma almost missed that her sharpened sense of smell picked up another pheromone overload in the room.

Could it be possible that he felt the same way about her?

She licked her lips at the thought of kissing him for real, causing her gut to clench. What would it be like to be with him? Emma played it out in her mind; surely it would be more than satisfying. From the gossip she’d heard, Killian was a sure bet, always knowing what women wanted. What would his hands feel like on her body? His presence loomed large in the tiny room, and it took all of her self control not to jump onto her bed and kiss the hell out of him.

How would he react? She had a feeling she would soon find out.

####

“Earth to Emma! Will you say something, please?” Killian asked, the alarm in his voice pulling her out of her reverie. At some point during her freakout, he had crossed the twelve feet of space between the beds and pulled out her roommate’s desk chair, sitting close by but not invading her space. Emma was instantly relieved by the gesture, reminding herself that Killian was the guy she’d grown to depend on, not some brute who only saw a sweet-smelling Omega he could use to satisfy his basest urges.

“I’m scared, Killian,” she admitted, feeling so hot and sweaty that she had to force herself to unwrap the blanket from her body. “This has never happened to me before! What if I can’t control myself, or some random Alpha picks up on what’s going on, and he tries to force me to — ugh, I don’t know! Maybe I should call Mary Margaret, and see if I can just pick up my pills from her,” she fretted, twisting a corner of the fleece in her grip nervously.

“I understand,” he soothed, interrupting her anxiety spike. “You’ve got to breathe, though, because you're going to hyperventilate if you keep this up. Can you do that for me first, Swan?”

Emma listened to him, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Soon enough, her heartbeat slowed back to its regular rhythm, and even though the warm hand he’d tentatively placed on her back sent electric sparks down her spine, his reassuring touch made her feel safe and grounded.

Once he was sure that the worst had passed, Killian began to speak again, unsure of how she’d react.

“The trouble is, Emma, that David and Mary Margaret are about an hour’s drive from here. If you still want to go and get your pills, I’m happy to drive you. But if you’d rather stay here and ride it out, I’ll say it right now: I won’t leave you unprotected,” Killian told her bluntly. Emma looked utterly confused until her muffled brain picked up his meaning. She was livid.

“Oh, are you going to stand outside my door and defend my honor? Believe me, I can handle myself just fine, Jones,” she seethed, spitting his name out like poison as she launched herself to her feet. He watched, speechless as she tugged on the doorknob, exposing their private little world to the whitewashed concrete and fluorescent-lit hallway.

“I think you should just leave for a little while.”

He flinched at her cold tone, but Killian had enough sense to risk trying to dominate her. Clearly, Emma needed her space — he knew she’d want to get back in full control of herself as soon as possible — but there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d stand by and watch her drive alone, especially in her disoriented state.

It didn’t help matters that they’d been in her room for a while, so he was completely surrounded by Emma’s lovely scent, which had always reminded him of the summer sun, mixed with sweet melon and tart strawberries. That night, it had a more sensual, muskier edge than he was used to, so instead of feeling happy and comfortable like he usually did in her presence, he could barely resist the urge to bury his face in her neck.

In general, Killian was pretty confident in his ability to control himself, but he had no idea how much longer he could physically stand being in the same room with Emma that night. His purely Alpha desire to possess and mark her could send them spiraling down a friendship-ending path.

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll go,” he said quietly, lifting himself up off Emma’s bed. He waited for her to say something, but she just gestured toward the door, her green eyes unreadable.

“I’d really appreciate that, at least for a little while,” she admitted, and the shaky breathiness in her voice both raised his protective hackles and sent a jolt of lust surging through his blood.

He needed to leave the room.

“Of course, Swan. I won’t go far, so if you need anything, just text or call and I’ll come right back. And if you decide that you’d like to drive out, just say the word and I’ll pick you up, ok?” he assured her calmly as he walked through the open door, even though his insides were churning with nervous energy. She just nodded, sagging against the wall. Her eyes were glassy, like she’d been drugged.

Killian had been with enough women of Emma’s type to know that when they got that glazed look, their instincts could overrule their rational brains at any time. There had to be at least a hundred other Alphas in their dorm alone, and he knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of them if they dared to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state.

He needed to call Elsa, and quickly.

———-

The phone seemed to ring forever, and by the time someone picked up the line, Killian was practically tearing his hair out.

“Little brother, why are you calling so late? Everything alright?” Liam’s voice, usually so welcome to his ears, sounded like nails scraping against chalkboard to someone as keyed up as Killian was at that moment.

“I’m fine, just put me on with your wife. Please,” he begged through gritted teeth, hating the pathetic cracking in his voice.

“You don’t sound fine,” Liam observed casually, as if he was across the room and not 3,000 miles away. “Are you on drugs?”

“LIAM! I called Elsa, not you. If she’s there, put her on the bloody phone,” he growled. Moments later, his sister-in-law’s calming voice came onto the line.

“Killian? Tell me what’s wrong,” she soothed, and the buildup of adrenaline began to drain from his bloodstream as fast as it had rushed in, leaving him feeling depleted and foolish. He sagged down onto a park bench, head in his hands as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Elsa, I need your advice. I have a very close friend who needs my help, you know? Problem is, she’s a skittish lass, and I don’t know if I can give her what she needs without ruining the friendship. On the other hand, the thought of anyone else touching her makes me feel sick. What should I do?”

A soft chuckle floated across the line, and he exhaled with relief, knowing that Elsa needed no further explanation.

“Well, it sounds like you care about this girl quite a lot. We’re talking about your friend Emma, right?” Elsa guessed, the gentle teasing in her voice already helping to calm his anxiety.

“Yes, h-how did you know?” he asked, his voice stuttering in disbelief.

“Besides the fact that Emma is the only woman I’ve ever heard about for the entire time you’ve been at school? If your roles were reversed, and she offered to help you through a rut, would you take the risk?”

Killian didn’t even need to think about his answer. “In a bloody second! It would be amazing, but I already know that I’m mad for her. Emma hasn’t ever wanted anything but friendship from me, and it feels an awful lot like I’d be taking advantage.” he told his sister-in-law, as his heart pounded with uncertainty.

“Killian, I know that time is of the essence here, so I’ll be crystal clear: Calm down, give Emma the space to decide what she wants, then follow her lead! Trust me, her reaction will clear up any questions about where you stand in her mind. It doesn’t sound to me like she’s going to freeze you out,” she assured him, and after thanking Elsa profusely and apologizing again for calling them so late, he hung up.

Almost immediately, his phone buzzed with a new text from Emma:

*I’m really sorry for kicking you out. If you’re still ok with driving up to David’s place, then I’d like to go with you.*

Killian clutched the phone in his hand, almost giddy at the thought of finally being free to kiss and touch and care for Emma the way she deserved. Self doubt still plagued his soul, and he knew that getting this close to her without knowing how she felt about him was a gamble, but it was his choice. The privilege of being there for Emma was its own reward, and it would be worth the risk.

####

As his truck barreled down the uneven road that marked the final leg of their journey to David’s cabin, Killian winced every time the rocky terrain made Emma gasp or cry out in discomfort. He couldn’t read her expression since she was still curled up in her fleece cocoon, but each agonizing sound tore into his soul.

Killian knew how simple it would be for him to relieve her pain, but he was still worried that she’d interpret that offer as a violation of their friendship, and hate him for even suggesting such a thing.

“I’m so sorry, love. We’ll be there soon, I promise,” he assured her, reaching his right hand out to give her what was meant to be a comforting squeeze. The moment his hand made contact with her blanketed body, with the cool touch of his fingers so close to her heated skin, Emma tore the blanket away, breathing heavily. Her blonde hair floated around her like a gorgeous mess, her skin was flushed crimson, and the look in her eyes nearly made him slam on the brakes in the middle of the road.

“Killian, you’ve got to pull over, right now!” she heard herself tell him, but her voice sounded like it was detached from her being. The strange, searing pain actually freed her from all inhibitions, leaving her in a puddle of feelings and primal urges that blew common sense right out the window.

All she knew for sure was that Killian was right there, and he was all she could think about. The way their scents mingled together in the truck’s cabin caused all of her other senses to light up, like she was a fuse ready to blow at any second.

“What’s wrong, love? Need some fresh air?” Killian asked as he pulled off to the side of the road and turned on the hazard lights. He knew that she probably felt extremely vulnerable, but had no idea what was going on inside that head of hers.

He did not expect to see Emma sizing him up with that lusty Omega stare, her eyes blazing a brilliant shade of green. The sight made him gasp in astonishment, a sound that he tried, unsuccessfully, to cover with a cough.

Emma spoke in a clear, confident voice.

“Killian, listen to me. I’ve been trying to ignore or will these feelings away, but every cell in my body is telling me exactly how to take care of the pain. It’s telling me that I need you…Alpha,” she admitted. Her voice shook as she used his title for the first time.

Her words stoked a fire in his belly that could easily turn into an inferno.

Killian hadn’t expected to hear her say those words…ever. He put the car back in drive, veering further off from the track-marked road, and parked. As the engine idled, Killian squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brain for a solution that didn’t end with him giving into temptation. *This isn’t some random hookup, it’s Emma. If she was in her right mind, this wouldn’t be happening, mate* he told himself, cracking his eyes open as he took a deep breath to get his wits about him.

It wasn’t his best idea. The sweet scent from her heat had intensified, awakening a primal instinct in his brain and making his head swim with lust. He shifted in his seat, instantly hard as a rock. When she looked at him, he could tell that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Emma just smirked as she licked her lips.

“You can feel it too, can’t you, Alpha? I know you want me…I can practically taste it in the air. I want you too,” Emma told him breathlessly, in what was probably the most seductive whisper he’d ever heard.

“I’m honored that you’d consider me worthy of that kind of trust, Emma, truly,” he said gently, taking one of her hands in his and threading their fingers together.

“But are you certain? Completely sure?” Killian’s voice, while still quiet, sounded raspy and more urgent, like he was ready to do anything she desired of him.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding, and before he knew it, Emma had unlocked her seatbelt and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his for the first time. Her lips were softer than he could have ever imagined, and their mouths fit together as perfectly as he had always hoped they would. Adorably, she still tasted like popcorn and chocolate.

By the time they pulled apart for air, Emma had somehow straddled the console, getting halfway across and into his lap. They were pressed even closer together by the truck’s oversized steering wheel.

With a growl, Killian wrenched the seat back an extra couple of inches and lifted her the rest of the way, touching his forehead to hers as their breathing slowed.

“I guess we don’t need to bother David and Mary Margaret after all!” Emma giggled, brushing her hair out of her face before setting her hands on his shoulders.

“Trust me, they wouldn’t want to see what I have in store,” Killian replied with a devilish grin, reaching for her yet again. Their kisses grew deeper, and Emma raked her fingers through his hair while Killian’s hands roamed over every square inch of her body that he could reach, squeezing her ass with a satisfied groan. She responded by grinding herself against his lap, looping her arms around his neck as she went faster.

“Please…oh God, I want to come. Touch me, talk to me,” she moaned against him, bucking her hips faster to increase the friction. He nodded, kissing her exposed neck all the way up to a spot behind her ear that he had already chosen as his favorite.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Emma…I can’t wait to see you fall apart,” he whispered harshly against her ear, sliding his palm up her thigh and under her shorts before slipping two fingers into her heat, pumping and curling them in rhythm with her gyrations. She felt so perfectly tight and wet with slick that he had to restrain himself from rutting against her, choosing instead to press his nose against the flesh of her throat, breathing her in while focusing on her body. Emma mewled with pleasure, clawing her fingers across his back.

“Yes…Keep talking, Alpha, please!” she urged, riding his fingers in the narrow space.

“Feeling you against me makes me want to rip all your clothes off... I can see it right now, you naked and writhing against me while I’m deep inside you, filling you up. Is that what you want, Omega? Because I want you, have always wanted you, so badly…” he rasped, and she exploded seconds later, clenching hard against his fingers and coating them in her essence. She was unrestrained, shouting his name and his title as she shivered and shook in his arms.

It took a while for Emma to float back down to reality, so while she rested, he gently withdrew his fingers and licked them clean, unable to resist getting a taste of her sweetness. As she came back to herself, she could feel the soft press of Killian’s lips against her collarbone, near the scent gland all Omegas had right under the skin. It felt like the gland itself pulsed with its own energy, and when Emma pressed her fingers there, the whole patch of skin was raised and surprisingly fiery to the touch.

“Killian, I don’t know what’s going on! Feel here— it’s really hot, so be careful,” she fretted anxiously, cringing when he touched the pad of his index finger gently against her skin.

Instead of freaking out, he just waggled his eyebrows and flashed her a cheeky smile. But when the fear in her eyes didn’t go away, Killian’s expression softened.

“All that it means, Emma, is that your system is functioning exactly as it’s supposed to,” he told her, stroking her cheek. She smiled and nuzzled into his touch, but as she tipped forward to kiss him, the slight shift of her weight in his lap caused a deep groan to rumble up from Killian’s throat.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, Killian, I was caught up in the moment and I didn’t think-” she started to apologize, guilt written across her face.

“It’s not a problem, love. I’m the one helping you, so I’ll likely not go without,” he teased, and the look on his face — a bit of sheepishness disguised by a rogue’s smile — made Emma giggle, sighing with relief.

“That’s very true, although I might have put it a little differently!” Emma chided him with a playful smack on his chest, and they grinned dopily at each other, hair hopelessly mussed, and still reeling from the high of their new bond.

“So, while you’re still sated and lucid, we should talk about where we’re going to spend the next couple of days,” Killian suggested, reaching past her to grab his phone from the console. Feeling a bit self conscious now that the urgency had passed, Emma gave him a peck on the lips and scrambled back over to her seat.

“Killian, are you crazy? You can’t just drop everything for me!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Of course I can, Swan!” Killian scoffed, but when he looked up from his phone, the welling of tears in her eyes reminded him of how vulnerable she was feeling and how big a step this was for them both. “To be there with you, to aid you, would be my honor.”

She smiled, pressing her lips together as a rosy blush bloomed on her cheeks.

He reached over, taking her hand in his. “Emma, unless you send me away I will always be by your side, whenever you need me. Please, don’t ever doubt that,” he told her, bringing her knuckles to his lips without breaking their eye contact. She held his gaze, nodding as a shy smile played across her lips.

“I won’t, I promise,” she said quietly, almost in a whisper, but an intrusive chiming sound sent her scrambling for her purse. Killian was dying to know who had interrupted them, but not wanting to seem overprotective — even though his skin practically itched with the desire to knock the phone out of her hand, carry her into the back of his truck, and claim her as his own — he turned his attention back to his online search.

“Oh, it’s Mary Margaret! Guess the reception in this area isn’t so bad after all, buddy,” she teased, gently poking him in the ribs with her elbow. He grunted in reply, her light touch reigniting the spark of desire he no longer had to hide from her.

“She said that she’s got my stuff, and that we can come right over. What do you think?” Emma asked, her tone sounding conflicted.

“Honestly, I’d rather keep you right here, and preferably much closer,” he teased, squeezing her thigh with a wicked grin. “But will you need your pills for any, ahem, more amorous pursuits?”

Emma snorted at his euphemism, like she always did when teasing him about using big fancy words.

“Amorous pursuits, huh? No, I have an IUD for that, but I’ve never been off those pills,” she said, furrowing her brow as she thought it over. “But if they’re meant to suppress, wouldn’t they mute the things I’m feeling now too? I don’t think I want to go back, not if it means giving this up,” Emma said saucily, taking a moment to tap out a quick reply to her roommate before grabbing his face and pulling him toward her for the most aggressive kiss she had ever given anyone, tangling her tongue with his, and catching his lower lip with her teeth so she could nip it playfully.

Giving herself over to the desire to possess him, like he was hers, seemed to unlock an entirely new world to explore. Every touch and kiss felt more intense, and knowing that he trusted her enough to let her play, testing his boundaries, was more of a turn-on than either of them expected. “Did you know that this truck has a fully collapsible backseat?” Killian told her, sounding absolutely wrecked when they pulled apart to catch their breath. Emma chuckled, running her fingers through his already messy hair.

“Exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, Jones?” she asked wide-eyed, pulling herself out of his embrace. Killian opened his mouth to reply, but all words flew out of his mind when Emma rose up to kneel on her seat, reaching back to unclasp her bra. He watched, entranced, as the white straps began to slip down her shoulders.

“I think,” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully as he hooked his thumbs through each strap, tugging them the rest of the way down her arms as she gasped. “I think that I’m one lucky bastard to have such a sexy, gorgeous woman in my truck. And you’ve got your Alpha all alone in the woods, willing and ready to do your bidding. That means you should feel free to share every dirty little desire you can imagine, so that I can do whatever it takes to keep you satisfied,” he told her huskily, gratified to see her shiver.

Emma just stared at him hungrily, letting her bra drop down onto the seat. Her white tank top left barely anything to the imagination; it was just a flimsy piece of nearly sheer cotton that barely concealed her taut nipples, straining against the fabric as they were.

“Like my own personal, hmm...boy toy?” she teased, leaning against the console on her elbows to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. His jaw slackened at the sight of her heaving chest, all of that flushed, soft skin pushed up by her forearms.

He wanted to bury his face right there and her smirk confirmed that she knew it, so he raised one cocky eyebrow. “I assure you, love, I am anything but a boy…”

She chuckled, hopping into the back and beckoning for him to join her. Emma barely had time to grab her blanket to spread over the backseat before he opened the door and lunged for her, nearly ripping her top and shorts off in his urgency to feel more of her. She yelped, dragging him forward so he could shut the back door and release whatever mechanism was responsible for flattening the backseat rests. They toppled back with a bang, and Killian clutched her to his chest, an overwhelming instinct to protect her overriding every other thought in his head.

“Killian, it’s starting to hurt again,” she whimpered, looking at him with wide eyes full of desire and fear. He couldn’t help himself, bending his head to kiss her gently, trying to chase away even a fraction of her discomfort.

“Don’t worry, love,” he murmured tenderly, helping her to lie down comfortably before shucking his shirt and jeans off and throwing them into the front seat. “Just let me take care of you first, and then we’ll decide what happens next together, yeah?”

She nodded as he settled next to her, silently placing her trust in his hands as she cupped his face in hers. The look in her eyes caused his heart to swell with pride, but the jumble of anticipation and nerves made him freeze up for a moment, unsure of what to do first. Luckily, Emma acted on instinct, parting her thighs and panting his name, and Killian was drawn in like a magnet, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her. Tongues dueling for control, their kisses grew frantic and he pressed even closer, groaning at the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

“You’re so warm, Alpha. I want you inside me so badly…” she crooned, hooking her thigh over his hip, her desire to be joined clear from the slick that soaked through her underwear to run freely between her thighs. Killian clenched his jaw, trying to hang on to a scintilla of control instead of mindlessly plowing into her. That thread snapped when she reached into his boxers and stroked his cock with a firm grip, tugging the cotton down his hips with her free hand.

“This belongs to me now,” she rasped, continuing to pump his length as she swiped her thumb over the sensitive tip, smirking triumphantly when he shook with a groan he was too far gone to suppress.

“Bloody fuck, Omega, you’re impossible to resist a second longer..” he growled possessively, and with one last nod from her, he ripped her underwear from her body and eased his way inside her, filling her up until they were both left cursing and gasping with relief.

“Oh my God, this is perfect. You feel so perfect,” Emma purred contentedly as unexpected tears gathered in her eyes. Eager to get even closer, she locked her ankles against his lower back, using her legs to draw him in just a little deeper.

“You…you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met, Emma,” he breathed, wiping a few errant tears off her cheeks. He shifted his hips experimentally within the limited range of motion he had available. Every slight movement had her making the most delicious sounds, lubricating his cock in her impossibly warm depths.

Killian wasn’t quite sure if she was holding him in like that for physical or emotional reasons, so he guessed it was probably a mix of the two. Since he had promised to be there for whatever Emma needed, it didn’t matter; he didn’t intend to let her down.

“There’s something I never told you,” she whispered after a few moments had passed, unwinding her ankles and letting her knees fall open. A simple roll of her hips told him that it was ok to start moving, but he kept his thrusts shallow, enjoying the sweetness of her scent and the press of her skin against his.

“You can me anything,; I’m right here, Omega,” he assured her, pressing their foreheads together as their bodies rose and fell in rhythm. The fact that she was letting him care for her this way meant so much more than he could have ever imagined.

Emma began her confession haltingly, trying to find the right words. “It’s just that, well— I’ve never been knotted before. I never wanted it before, but… but with you, it’s like I need it, desperately,” she admitted, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me, Emma, please,” he croaked, going still inside of her. When their eyes locked, he kissed her, gently biting her bottom lip when he pulled away. He began moving again, lengthening his strokes as he gradually increased their pace.

“There is nothing I want more than to give that to you, love, but not in the truck,” he told her, almost apologetically. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before, honestly. Maybe it’s because of you and your insatiable need, hmm….”

She whimpered, grinding her pelvis against his. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she kissed him deeply, eventually dragging him down closer to her chest.

Eagerly, he kissed his way across the valley between her breasts, biting down on a stiff nipple with each pass. His worship of her body nearly drove Emma over the edge again, her pants turning into staccato cries as she thrashed beneath him.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect, just like the rest of you…” he muttered, lowering himself to his forearms so he could squeeze each one, sucking her nipples and gently biting the rounded flesh like he wanted to brand her with his mark.

“Harder, I can take it… I’m so, so close, Alpha!” she cried out, gripping his biceps so hard that her fingernails nearly cut into his skin.

Killian grunted, using the pain to help him concentrate on pounding into her like she wanted, while trying to stave off his knot.

He didn’t want her first experience of that particularly mind-numbing pleasure to happen in the backseat of his truck.

“Are you gonna come for your Alpha? Show me how hard you can squeeze my cock,” he rumbled, feeling his orgasm start to build as a gush of her slick coated his base.

“Ohmigod…Alpha…YES!!” Emma screamed, clamping down tight on his cock as she launched into the stratosphere, her orgasm last longer than she’d ever experienced before.

He followed with a shout moments later, filling her up with his release as her aftershocks fluttered against his sensitive skin.

“Killian, that was amazing,” Emma purred as he rolled to the side, scooping her into his arms. She had a wide, lazy smile on her face as she burrowed tightly against his side, scratching her fingers through his chest hair.

“I think we make quite the team,” he told her fondly, kissing the top of her head. He let his head fall back onto the blanket, looking up at the truck’s ceiling. “I can hardly wait to get you into a nice big bed, and show you all of the other ways I can get you to come.”

The way his voice lowered seductively sent a surge of arousal straight to her core. Emma felt a wave of slick dampen her thighs, surprised that she could want his body again so soon.

“Where should we go? I want to have you again, already — maybe in the shower…” she suggested, grabbing his wrist and brushing his fingers against her brand new wetness.

Killian groaned when he felt the slick between her thighs, almost thrown into a mindless sex haze himself at the thought of how full of their combined releases her channel was.

He allowed himself the indulgence of slipping one finger into her dripping center, dying to find out what they tasted like together.

“We’re so fucking good together, Omega, just like I knew we would be — tastes like nectar from the gods. Take a taste, then we’re getting dressed. There may be an available room back at school by now.” he told her, gently slapping her ass before they sat up.

Emma grabbed his finger and drew the tip into her mouth, sucking experimentally.

She’d given a couple of blowjobs to Neal back in high school, and she remembered swallowing quickly, disliking the bitter aftertaste.

With Killian, she was sure it’d be much better, and she was right; the fluid was sweet and pleasantly salty, like the ocean on a sunny day. She darted her tongue out, and was licking his finger clean when she caught a glimpse of him staring at her, transfixed.

“You’re a real minx, aren’t you, Swan? C’mere,” he beckoned, his lopsided grin making her feel warm inside.

Emma shuffled a few inches over on her knees, and was rewarded with a passionate, mind-numbing kiss. It left her in a daze, accepting the clothes he handed her and dressing herself like her brain was on autopilot.

#####

***CHAPTER 2 COMING SOON***

Thanks and hugs to my CSMM enablers 😏

Tag list (happy to add or delete on request): @kmomof4, @undercaffinatednightmare @ultraluckycatnd @jrob64 @justanother-unluckysoul @jonesfandomfanatic @caught-in-the-filter @hollyethecurious @holdingoutforapiratehero @mie779 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @the-darkdragonfly @sailtoafarawayland @djlbg @eddisfargo

#cssns23 #cs ff #cs au #captain swan #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #ouatedit #cs fanfic #cs smut #best friends to lovers #alpha!killian #omega!emma #no werewolves #some angst #cs whump #happily ever after

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monstersinthecosmos · 10 months ago

Text

September 28, 1973

Sometimes when Daniel was a kid, he’d play this game when he woke up somewhere unfamiliar—could be a sleepover, or family vacation, or weekends at his grandma’s house in Flushing. He’d keep his eyes closed, and focus on the feeling on the bed around him, and imagine if he could be home.

Things always gave it away. Like, this can’t be my bed, because I can’t feel the slope of the mattress from my uneven bedroom floor. Or, I can’t hear my dog pattering around, bothering Mom for breakfast. The traffic outside doesn’t sound like our neighborhood. It’s too sunny, even with my eyes closed. It smells different.

And sometimes, waking up in his own bed, more and more as he got older, he could do the opposite. Imagine somewhere else in the world. Wonder how far away he could be.

He breathes.

In, and hold, and out. Eyes closed, but he can feel the sun spilling over him from the window. He tries to keep his body still, feeling for the bed around him. The headache abates, just slightly, as he imagines his childhood bedroom.

This bed is bigger. And there’s no slant to the floor. With each deep breath he gets hints of the hotel bleach in the pillowcase, not the detergent his mom uses. On weekends, when his dad was off from work, sometimes Daniel would wake up to his smoker’s cough coming from the kitchen downstairs, but there’s nothing like that here. Someone’s footsteps are too heavy, stomping by in the hallway, and there’s enough noise from the street outside that he knows he’s in a city. Not the quiet suburb where he grew up.

No.

But it’s okay. He takes the moment, anyway, breathing deeply, slowly, holding still util he can’t feel his limbs anymore. And he feels the hangover balancing there, depending on him, and if he makes one wrong move it’ll rush back to him. The headache and the heartburn, and the stomach cramp. Staying still, so still, breathing so slowly, helps him leave his body behind.

Maybe it’s not his own bed, or least not his childhood bed. Maybe it’s too obvious. But he tries to pretend, for a minute, and it makes everything feel close. Like someone would feed him if he went downstairs. Like he could go hang out with Ray.

It’s not just about the bed, though. He wonders if he could pretend, even for a minute, that he could be that same kid.

Eyes open. Blinding white for a moment as he squints against the sunlight, the bright yellow wallpaper, the ugly curtains. Other features come into focus as he adjusts. The sailboat painting on the wall. The TV in the corner. For a moment he forgets that he’s supposed to be staying still, and he rolls over on his side to look out the window.

This isn’t unlike the game, really. The one where he pretends he could be anywhere. For once, he really could be.

Pain throbs though his jaw as he yawns, as he curls himself tighter into the blankets. An ache in his hip, too, as he shifts his weight. And he thinks… he remembers getting in a fight? Had he fallen down?

The Moody Blues were playing on the jukebox, and his ears had been ringing when he he lost his balance. People around him had been saying things, speaking real words, and Daniel hadn’t really been able to understand, except he had.

He wants a glass of water but isn’t ready to get up. He wonders what type of hangover food he’ll need to track down, now that he’s this new version of himself. Isn’t sure what his stomach can handle anymore.

What types of food will he even find here, anyway? Still not positive where he even is.

There are no clues from where he curls on his side. Blue sky and a nondescript building out the window. He can’t see any of the hotel literature from here. He cranes his neck to see the alarm clock on the nightstand, but there’s only numbers on the clock face. They click as they flip from 3:59 to 4:00pm.

Is that right?

He leans up on his elbow, rubs his eyes. The hangover comes back in a rush as the blood leaves his head, and he breathes through this teeth as he adjusts. Last night is a bit of a blur but he remembers noticing the 12:11am on the clock when he flopped onto the bed. His birthday.

So he’s hungover, and his face hurts, but he can’t remember the last time he got this much sleep. And he can’t remember the last time he felt this… clear?

Still in yesterday’s clothes as he pushes the blankets back, swings his legs over the side of the bed. Two weeks of stubble on his face as he feels for the cut on his lip. Hip creaks as he stands, and he definitely fell down last night, and he runs a hand over it as he limps over to the window.

The sun feels nice on his skin. He stays there for a moment, basking in it, and it almost feels like he’s waking from this last entire month, like he’s stumbled upon a tiny shred of himself that was left on the inside.

Ever since he left New Orleans it’s felt like the floor was moving. Like he’s on a ship, or like he’s got the spins. Still, some semblance of a routine took shape. Wake up, and grab your shit, and run.

Go. Now.

It doesn’t seem so urgent today, though. Maybe it’s the sleep, or the hangover. Maybe it’s the fact that he survived the night at all.

He wonders if he could take a day off.

Last night…

Armand could have found him. Easily. For the first time since this began, he feels rational about it.

Or, maybe not so rational. It’s as if a part of him feels… disappointed?

He scratches a hand through his hair, and turns away from the window. Scans the room for his cigarettes, and a notepad. Considers making a list, writing some thoughts down to organize himself. And he should call the hotel desk, see if they have room service, or maybe they can suggest a place for dinner. He should stay another night, even if it’s just to do laundry.

The hotel’s insignia is stamped in the corner of the little stationary pad, but he still isn’t sure where they are. Laid neatly on the nightstand, beside the phone, with a cheap green pen. He finds his crumpled, almost-empty pack of cigarettes on the bathroom counter, and lights one as he sits cross legged on the bed, laying the pad neatly on his thigh.

Okay, list, he tells himself, and can sort of picture it. All the usual stuff. Brush your teeth, take a shower, shave. Call the desk, figure out laundry, get food. He considers planning a flight in advance this time—maybe he can call the airport. Maybe he can look at a map, and strategize, because he’s not sure how long this will be sustainable.

The tip of the pen presses a little green dimple into the paper as he thinks, as he drags deep on his cigarette. The pieces start lining up in their correct spots as the nicotine hits him, as it smoothes down all the edges, as it opens up his brain. The butt of the cigarette sends a pleasant, warm throb through the cut on his lip, and he presses down to feel it even more. Slots the tip of his tongue into it.

Brush your teeth, he tries to write, but as the letters appear it says something else.

“I don’t want to die,” he reads aloud.

For a moment his eyes burn. Not that there are witnesses to comment on it, but he feels ready to blame the cigarette smoke. He pinches the bridge of his nose, hands trembling as he sets the pen down.

“He’ll kill you,” he whispers to himself. Admitting it causes something to unfurl in his chest. It’s not something he knows how to identify. Something new, something deformed. Not quite grief, like when Ray died. Not the grief of homesickness, either. Not the confusion, or the restlessness, not really even the fear. Almost like arousal, except it fills him with disgust.

More like loneliness, like disappointment. And like curiosity. Like hunger.

Maybe it’s jealousy.

And for what.

Daniel isn’t sure he believed Armand, that first night. Telling him to run. He hadn’t known what to think, really, except that fleeing seemed like the right thing to do. But he can find you. He can kill you. He could’ve done it by now. He could’ve last night.

The hair rises on the back of Daniel’s neck. His breath hitches, and his heart races, and he rubs his eyes. He picks up the pen again and crosses out the note.

I don’t want to die.

His voice is soft in the empty room, gently slurring through his split lip.

“What do you want, though?”

[previous day] | [next day]

#AO3 IS DOWN OMG but ill x-post as soon as i can!#vamptember 1973 #daniel molloy #stuff i wrote

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thesillyguyy · 10 months ago

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Is it me, or are long text posts just better when the text is shrunk? It's just very pleasing to me for some reason, and I really really like it. Makes me feel calm. I'm trying to recreate that, but uh. I'm running out of things to say. So I'm gonna tell yall some stories. But ✨️aesthetially✨️

First story - so I like playing minecraft. And a while ago I was playing this one survival world(I think it's deleted now but I'm not sure). I'm just wandering a snowy biome and trying to get out of it because I fucking HATE snowy biomes. So I eventually come across this ravine thing? It was like a cave with an opening at the top with a river at the bottom I guess? And I was crouched at the edge of the ravine thing, just looking down it because why not. While I'm doing that, a fucking POLAR BEAR comes from behind me and hits me into the fucking ravine, into the water, so that was fun. I almost drowned because that was a really deep river and a very high edge of the ravine so I almost drowned. :) 👍

Second story - so it's like may of 2020. It's covid, we're at home, etc etc. On our front porch, we have a roof thing over it with pillars at each corner of it. In the corners, where the pillar met the roof thing, a couple of birds made some nests. The one closest to our door was beginning to be made by a chickadee or a finch before a bluejay kicked it out and claimed the nest for itself(that's what my dad said he saw idk). The bluejay hung around for a while, occasionally flying away and bringing sticks or going to eat or something. This went on for like, 2-3 weeks. Then, one night, when my sister and I were waiting on the front porch to be picked up by my nana for a sleepover that weekend, we heard some tweeting from the nest. I saw maybe two baby bluejays, but a couple of days later, my mum said she saw at least four. That was pretty cool until a grackle came by and killed and ate three of the babies. I was pretty sad about that. But after that, I was very careful about watching that last baby when the mum wasn't around. After a good week or so, the baby was pretty grown, and I called him Baby because I was a stupid idiot baby then, and I thought, why not. My mum sat on the porch to smoke a lot in the spring and summer, so she saw the baby try to jump out of the nest multiple times, same as my dad when he sat out there with her, just talking. But one rainy day, I noticed that the baby bird was missing from its nest, and I had thought that he had jumped out and soon figured out how to fly. Or so I thought. Because couple of days later, when it was sunny again, I asked my mum if I could go on my bike. She said yes, so I grabbed the keys to the garage and the side gate. I grabbed my bike out of the garage and walked down the short path while talking to my mum(she sometimes sits out on the deck to smoke) about this dead baby robin I found on the sidewalk while biking one day when I realized I almost RAN OVER THE FUCKING BABAY BLUEJAY. the little fucker was just sitting right in the path without a care in the world. I told Mum, and she went inside to get a towel so we could move him out of the backyard because we had three very big dogs(rest in peace, Tank, I will love you forever) that would probably eat him without a second thought. After about 10 minutes of chasing him around, Mum says to leaving him alone where he was(being in the neighbors front garden, I think). So I go biking for a while and when I come back the little fucker is sitting in the path to the side, on one of those things you'd find in garden shops with bags of dirt on them ig? They were proped up against our garage, and the baby was sitting on the bottom part of it, scaring the living shit out of me. After I put my bike away, I come back to him, and I just sit on the ground in front of him. You know what happened. I fucking pet him. Like the awesome badass i am. He didn't even try to bite me or pull away, either. A few days pass by, and every night, he tries to fly out over our fence(and failing, resulting in faceplanting into the fence). After a while, he managed to climb into our lilac tree and hopped/flew into a bigger tree, and left. Didn't see him again after that. I also renamed him BJ. 👍👍👍

Yeah no I'm done with this tonight I just spent the last hour writing these so hope you have fun reading them holy fuck

I might do it again, though :)

#stories #true stories #sharing because i can lol

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myeyesarebrighter · 2 years ago

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Oh yay. The hot sunny weather is breaking in time for cold, wet, rainy 50s for our Girl Scout encampment weekend. I’ll be there tomorrow night in the 40 degree rain for the sleepover event. YAY.

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sunnie-angel · 5 months ago

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facemask: jason todd x reader au where reader was experimented on (a mix of deadpool origin story and hydra torture) reader has near instant regeneration, a bunch of scars, trauma, and has a pendant that let's them manipulate wind, they become a vigilante and meet jason while on a mission, would love some headcanons pretty please :3

welcome to the sleepover! i hope these head canons are in line with the character you’ve created 💕

Mutant!Reader Head Canons

The first time you and Jason meet, he’s trying to recruit you, one scarred abandoned project to another

Of course you don’t buy it, what he’s selling is too good to be true, so you send him over the side of the building with a burst of wind

That just makes Jason even more determined to recruit you; very rarely does someone surprise him and he’s more determined than ever to figure you out

A cat and mouse game plays out across Gotham’s rooftops, Jason always a few steps behind. Insults traded across rooftops turn into quips, turn into grudging respect if not trust.

Jason never pushes, never crosses the lines you set. He remembers the dark days right after the Pit, the way the rage and the paranoia turned the world into funhouse mirrors of his worst memories. He learns patience, playing your games and earning your trust.

Until one day, the lab that made you comes looking and you wind up on Jason’s doorstep. This time, they don’t find you scared and alone. No, you’ve got a one man army at your back and the type of power at your fingertips they could only dream of creating.

sunnie’s sleepover weekend

#sunnie’s sleepover weekend #jason todd x reader

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onlyfangz · 1 year ago

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sleepover ask game! tell me your fav memory

this made a man tear up a little ngl

Favourite memory: Every weekend I used to stay with my Gran, and when she was preparing dinner in her little yellow kitchen, the door barely scraping past the edge of the kitchen table, she'd look out the window, and you could see far past all the houses, all the gardens, all the roads, right to the horizon of the sea, and as she was looking, she'd absent-mindedly sing old Scottish dance hall songs to me.

I'd curl up on one of the wooden chairs, the threadbare cushions scratching the backs of my thighs and sing along with her while I watched her bob around, the scent of cooking and cheap hairspray she used to lacquer her perm down catching my nose.

On rare sunny days, the light would hit the water just right, spreading golden rays through the little dilapidated flat, the butterfly suncatcher I made her that hung off the window frame throwing reds and oranges in every direction, and they'd catch off my face. She'd turn to me, and with every ounce of adoration she could muster into her thinning voice, she'd tell me I was gorgeous.

She lost her mind to dementia, and her flat has long been sold on. I have no idea where that stupid plastic butterfly suncatcher is anymore, but the last I saw it, the colours had faded out, barely leaving the suggestion of red around the black rims. I'd like it back if it's still around, though.

#answered #human-leather-hat-appreciator #ask games #she also had so much of my art around about the house #right up til the day she moved out #my parents used to grumble because me and my brother were the only children whos picture wasnt up in her house (bc my cousins were married #and my second cousins were babies)#but i was the only grandchild that had so much art up on her walls. at a headcount there were six separate pieces of childhood art dotted #all about the place #one of them -- a truly atrocious painting of a girl in a bowler hat -- hung above my head where id sit in the kitchen and another -- a #watercolour of a princess -- was hanging above the washing machine

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pink-pony-grrrl · 2 years ago

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Journal Entry ‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

(note: all the names in this story are fake, i didn't want to post their actual names bc confidentiality or whatever) fuckkkkkkkkkkkhjgfdszxfcghvbjnk fucking shit man. Im fucking crying at school in the back of my history class. What the fuck man. I fucking hate this. Thank god no one at school follows this tumblr or else i would be so fucked oh my godddd. But basically, its my second closest friends birthday today right! Which is pretty awesome. Leaf had a sleepover with a few of our friends from school over the weekend over with Jessica, Solo, Nolan, and myself. Including Leaf, it was 5 of us. I was pretty excited bc its super sunny and nice outside, im going to Carnegie hall later, i was chillin. But the fucking LUNCH rolls around. My two friends, we'll call then Jesse and Gianna. Jesse and Gianna got up and left the lunch table and walked away. I thought it was kinda strange how they left and we only just sat down to eat our food. Then, my friend (we'll call her alexa) Alexa said "Hey, we need to talk." Uh oh. I looked at my friend (We'll call them Leaf) Leaf and I had a kinda "ahahaha, wtf is happening kind of facial expression." And Alexa was like "Why the fuck are you laughing." LIKE WOAH,,, calm down bro..... I laugh whenever I get nervous. It's a nervous tic, I can't fucking control it bro. But then, right after that, Alexa was like "We feel like some people in this friend group excludes some of us." Okay, I know what it feels like to be excluded. It hurts. I've been in super toxic friend groups and it's not fun. Alexa then proceeds to say "We feel like sometimes people hang out and don't invite everyone." WELL NO FUCKING SHIT,,, OUR FRIEND GROUP IS 10 PEOPLE, WE CAN'T INVITE EVERYONE EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME MAN...like.... Then Leaf proceeds to apologize and said something along the lines of "I'm sorry if I made anyone feel left out, i only had but so much space in my house. I couldn't inv every1" and then Alexa said "but you didn't invite Gianna and or Zara." WHICH IS A LIE. ON MONDAY ZARA WAS SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO LEAF WHEN THEY MADE THE ANNOUNCEMENT??? I WAS LITERALLY THERE BRO, U CANNOT ATTEMPT TO GASLIGHT TWO PEOPLE....Leaf then made another apology (which they shouldn't have to do on their birthday...) After another apology from Leaf was made, Alexa pointed to Nolan and said "Let's start with you." Uh oh, where is this going..... "Nolan, we never brought up your ex and what happened with Logan was messed up." BRO, THE LOGAN THING WAS FROM LAST YEAR AND HE DID SEND A REALLY HEARTFELT APOLOGY, SECOND, YOU JUST BROUGHT UP THIS POOR BOYS EX. HE MADE HIS LIFE MISERABLE FOR YEAR FOR A REALLY TOXIC AND MANIPULATIVE PERSON. BROOO..... THIRD, WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO W/ THE ORIGINAL THING U WANTED TO TALK ABOUT??? THATS A WHOLE OTHER KID OF PETTY WHAT THE FUCK. Finally, it was time for us to head up. I texted Leaf and Solo and said "hey can we go up a different staircase." We did and started to cry on the third floor.

#vent post #journal #tumblr diary #digital diary #dear diary #avril lavigne #pop punk #taylor swift #avril lavigne let go #ventcore #venting #vent tag #my friend group is being weird #Spotify #reputation #reputation era #look what you made me do #lwymmd

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soleadita · 2 years ago

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5, 19, 23 😂, 10, and 11 for weird asks <3

alskdjs hi these got really long and i’m weird about posting long things so i’m sticking my answers under a read more thing. 💜

5. what color are your eyes?

i could've just answered this very normally but i remembered that an eye color chart from 1998 had crossed my dash earlier this weekend so i went back to hunt for it. depending on what i'm wearing, they fluctuate between D34 and C40.

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

UM YES! what color are we feeling? i can try to draw little sharks if u want <333 (they will be Bad but....it's the thought that counts?)

23. how do you feel about chilly weather?

OH! FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK!!! i hate it thanks 💕 but i guess it depends on your barometer for “chilly.” i’d love to never live through a boston winter again, for example, but i love california chilly (which i consider to be like 50s? maybe lower if it’s sunny)(this is humiliating to say and if any of my cold weather mutuals want to drag me for it, please go ahead, i’m aware that i deserve it). AND actually if i don’t have to go outside i don’t care how cold it is if i am warm and cozy inside and not paying the heat bill. 😌

10. would you slaughter the rich?

i'm unfortunately squeamish as all hell so i'm afraid i would not. but i'd slaughter in spirit. <3

11. favorite extracurricular activity?

probably a tie between horseback riding and doing vegetable garden things and reading (when The Brain is cooperating). but uh. these are not things i currently do. it’s more like things i really enjoy and hope to have more time/space/means to do in the future.

[weird asks <333]

#if you know what time zone i’m in and when i’m posting this shhh no u don’t i’m about to go to bed i promise #stardustsea #leo's asks #ask games

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sodascherrycola · 9 months ago

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Instagram Intros (Mikey Way's Kids)

Reese Violet Ellison Way (@reesesway)

DOB: October 1st 1998 Age: 26 years old Hometown: Bellville, New Jersey Nicknames: Ree, Vi, Reecie, Pieces S/O: Daniel Brozowski Kids: Oliver and Rosie Best Friend(s): Lauren Brown and Sicily Morrison Aesthetic: Reese, as the oldest sibling, looks out for her younger sisters all the time. She holds family very close to her heart, since she knows how difficult it can be from having two teenagers raise her. She was always the coolest out of all the girls, very confident and carefree. Her and Mackenzie share the closest bond, being the two oldest, she sees Kenzie as more of a friend and confidante then a little sister. They were always messing around and shared a room for a little while. They used to stay up late and just talk nonsense all night, to a point where Tess would have to go and tell them to sleep like 6 times a night. As for her relationship with Delaney and Juliet, she ususally acts as the mediator in their fights, their personalities clashing sometimes. She adores her little sisters to death, always visiting as much as she can to see the ones that still live at home. She was a big daddy's girl when she was younger, though had to fight Mackenzie for that spot once she was born. You would think her relationship with Sunnie and Emmylou would be strange considering she was already in her 20s when they were introduced to the Way family, but she is absolutely obsessed with them. She loves babysitting them and watching the two interact with her young children. Tess and Mike don't mind because she offers constantly for them to sleepover and give her parents a break.

August Lucas Quinn Way (@auuggieeswayyy)

DOB: November 19th 2002 Age: 22 years old Hometown: Bellville, New Jersey Nicknames: Aug, Auggie, Gus, GusGus S/O: Marianna Lincoln Kids: None Best Friend(s): Ryan Iero, Logan Way, and Sadie Curtis Aesthetic: August being the only son in the family has helped him be more in touch with his feelings. Everyone loves a boy raised by sisters. Girls were obsessed with him but he was oblivious to it, thinking they all were just friends. Auggie succumbed to many makeovers and fashion shows in his day, enough to be fantastic with his nieces and younger cousins. He was nicknamed GusGus by his older sister, obviously after the mouse from Cinderella. He was an honour roll student his whole life, and would have homework fights at the table with his parents every night. He would third wheel Reese and Daniel all the time when he couldn't drive. Then once he could drive he was the chauffeur for his younger sisters every single day he wasn't working. He actually worked at a Cafe for a couple of years in high school and saved up enough to buy a car, which was a 1969 camaro convertible. No one was allowed to touch it btw.

Mackenzie Lincoln Jane Way (@kennzziiee)

DOB: May 23rd 2004 Age: 20 years old Hometown: Los Angeles, California Nicknames: Ken, Kenzie, Mack, MJ S/O: Justin Banks Kids: None Best Friend(s): Elena Way Aesthetic: Mackenzie was the hugest girly girl, and learned everything from her mother. She inherited Tess' love for everything feminine and fashion. She loved watching her mom dress up for date nights and award shows, waiting for Tess to do her makeup and hair next. Kenzie loved giving everyone makeovers, whether it be her older sister Reese, her Uncle and Dad, or even the rest of MCR. Her and her mother used to go for regular spa days (home-made when she was younger) and just having a girl's day was the usual for those two. Mackenzie and her cousin Elena were very close growing up, having sleepovers almost every weekend, switching out each other's houses for the host. Mikey and Gerard were used to the girls running around in their mother's heels, and sitting down to watch an hour long fashion show that they decided to do right before the other was supposed to go home. Once Kenzie got her license. the two would drive to the mall every day and were almost never home anymore. Mackenzie ended up getting a job at a fashion magazine local to L.A. and quickly moved up in the company. She would later be the youngest 'Vogue' editor, at the age of 19.

Delaney Robin Belle Way (@laneyway)

DOB: September 27th 2006 Age: 18 years old Hometown: Los Angeles, California Nicknames: Del, Lane, Laney S/O: Isaiah McLaughlin Kids: None Best Friend(s): Kaitlin Iero and Samuel Hewson Aesthetic: Laney was much more of a tomboy compared to her two older sisters. She was known for following her dad to the studio and dancing backstage at later MCR concerts. He shared his interests with her and they were always up late jamming out on school nights. They had a special bond because Mikey didn't have a son, he felt the most connected with Delaney. Of course he loved his girls equally, but he had a hard time getting into girly things like Tess was able to. She played soccer from a young age and was on a team with Kaitlin Iero and they became best friends immediately. Though Kaitie was much more feminine and interested in boys and parties, unlike Laney. They grew apart as they entered high-school, but still kept in touch at times. When Delaney started having a crush on Samuel Hewson, she realised that she needed to be more girly for him to like her. This of course wasn't true, and her mother told her so, but she still helped Laney out with getting in touch with her feminine side. She felt more comfortable talking to her mother and Kenzie about this, knowing her usual late night talks with dad wouldn't be much help. Tess taught her how to do her makeup, hair, and clothing choices (while still keeping old Laney in there), while Mackenzie involved her in boy talk and flirting tips. They both shared their own experiences with Lane to help her prepare for her first date. Mikey almost had a heart attack when he saw Delaney done up in a dress and pumps walking down the stairs. Sam was surprised too. They went on a date, however it didn't go anywhere and she came home sobbing. Her father ran upstairs to talk to her and helped her wipe off her makeup. They laid in her bed for hours, sometimes talking and sometimes in silence. He had told her that she shouldn't have to change herself to get a boy's attention and that Sam wasn't worth all this trouble anyways. Her and Samuel stayed friends, and she met Isaiah in 11th grade and it took off. Delaney kept up with soccer and her and her new boy bonded over this shared passion for said sport. Mikey was just glad his daughter found a good guy who loves her for her.

Juliet Alessia Hope Way (@juliethope_)

DOB: September 27th 2006 Age: 18 years old Hometown: Los Angeles, California Nicknames: Julie, Jules, Jay S/O: Dalton Giordini Kids: None Best Friend(s): Zachary Benson Aesthetic: Julie was very close with her Uncle Gee growing up. She learned her love for art from him, watching him paint was something she could do for hours. They used to finger-paint whenever he babysat her and he saw her artistic expression even as a toddler. When she was in middle school, she would walk to his house every day after school so they could draw together. He was the only one who could she her doodles and drawings, something he took pride in. Juliet was naturally gifted at this and Gerard encouraged her to keep up with her art and she would beat him. When she was around 5, he let her design potential album covers and took inspiration from one of them for what would now be known as Danger Days. Gerard even told her that if she stuck with art throughout high school, and if she still wanted to do it, he would pay for her entry to an art school when she graduate. Which did happen. Mikey was always somewhat jealous of her relationship with his brother, not really being used to one of his daughters not hanging off his leg 24/7. He was very obviously proud of his little girl, sticking her pictures everywhere in the house, whether that be on the fridge or a frame photo in his home studio. He was still a bit upset about not sharing something with his baby. Tess noticed this, and reached out to Gerard, who made sure to explain to little Julie that she needs to give her daddy extra loving when she goes home. All of a sudden, Juliet was all up on her dad, and telling him that she loved him multiple times a minute. He couldn't understand what exactly flipped the switch until she ran into his arms one night when he and Tess were going to bed, and she told him that, and I quote "Love you this much more than Uncle Gee Daddy!" with her arms so stretched out that Mikey had to hold on to her extra tight so she wouldn't steer off the edge of the bed. Safe to say he slept pretty soundly that night.

Annie Donna Breanne Way (@annierox)

DOB: November 16th 2009 Age: 15 years old Hometown: Los Angeles, California Nicknames: Anne, Anna S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Kylie Monsen and Izabelle Thomas Aesthetic: Annie was and forever will be her father's biggest hype-man. She thought he was the coolest guy to ever exist, believed he had hung the stars for her and only her. There were many videos and photos going around when she was a toddler of her being seen behind the curtains at later concerts dancing around and running up to her dad on stage. He would of course try his best to send her back to her mom, wanting to keep the limelight away from his daughter as much as he possibly could, but she would never budge. Tess on the other hand found it adorable. Watching her youngest daughter look up to her dad was the highlight of her day, another reason she could pinpoint why she married Mikey in the first place. When he and Tess were going through a rough patch in their marriage around late 2013, Annie was the one to bring him back to life. She hated seeing her dad so low, deteriorate to a sad man when that's not the father she knew. When he was upset so was she. Mikey just then saw how big of an effect he had on Annie. He couldn't stand watching his bubbly, energetic 5 year old become so distressed and frustrated when she didn't know how to help him. He had gotten sober because of her and will forever be grateful for his little Annie. Their relationship did have a breaking point when he had cheated on Tess when Annie was around 13 years old. She turned on him for betraying her mom, betraying her really, and thinking so little of their family. Anne was always very mature for her age, and at that moment he absolutely hated it. Even when Tess and him improved their relationship, worked on therapy and unexpectedly (but happily) welcomed their last daughter Emmylou, his bond with Annie was severed. She never truly got over this rock, but still loved her dad and was working towards fixing up their past relationship.

Madelyn Sophia Joy Way (@maddyjoyway)

DOB: July 4th 2012 Age: 12 years old Hometown: Los Angeles, California Nicknames: Mads, Maddy, Lyn S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Vincent Toro and Milania Floyd Aesthetic: Maddy was very easy-going. She never once complained about having a huge family, even though it could get overwhelming at times. She took up ballet very young and was very serious about her well doing in class. Madelyn was very calm in nature, which may have set her apart from her sisters in a way. There were definitely times where she felt as though she was merely a fly on the wall in her house, sort of invisible. When she was around 6 or 7, she stopped speaking all together. This in turn, worried her parents and they tried everything in the books to understand and encourage her to speak. They later learned that she talked non-stop while at ballet or at school, and that this non-verbal situation was only present while at home. When they took her to a speech therapist, it was revealed to them about how she was feeling and it broke them to pieces. Tess started to bring her out on mommy-daughter days, doing special things with her, which helped Maddy to open up a bit more. Mikey on the other hand, just told her that if she ever needed to talk to him, that he would always be there to listen. He didn't want to force her to do anything she didn't want to. Her sisters also all chimed in and did their part to help their baby sister out too. Reese definitely took up the role of listener like her father did, and she would be probably better to talk to anyways because she wasn't a parent. Kenzie would constantly have Maddy in her room doing her hair and talking about everything and anything, boys, family, friends, you name it. So and so forth. Madelyn was doing quite well until her parents divorced only about 3 years later. She almost reverted back to her old ways. Mikey and Tess didn't know what to do. They had worked so hard to help Maddy but their breakup caused a new wave of this issue. Reese knew that it was down to the fact that during her time of need last time, family was all she had and it was preached to her throughout the whole ordeal, and now it is crumbling down. When Mikey and Tess made the decision to get back together it fixed this problem slightly. She still talked, however now it was less frequent. She still is very quiet, but she is much better now than before, especially after her parents got back together.

Everly Harper Rose Way (@everly.way)

DOB: July 4th 2012 Age: 12 years old Hometown: Los Angeles, California Nicknames: Ev, Evey S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Taytum Odell Aesthetic: Everly was very creative as young child. She always found a way to make anything interesting, whether that be over-doing a story she's retelling or randomly breaking out in song and dance. She started to learn guitar when she was around 7 and has been playing ever since. Everly would do anything to share her passion and she would take every opportunity to do so. She would sign up for programs at school, participate in talent shows (where everyone her parents know would show up in support), and even just go to community events to let the whole world know of her music. Her family always encouraged this for her, watching every performance she would give them with open arms. Her father took her to a Taylor Swift concert when she was ten, possibly a peace-offering for his divorce with her mother. Mikey did admit that watching Ev do her thing and sing along to every word was the minute he knew she had something in her. He would let her play around in his home studio, mess with his guitars he never let anyone else touch, and write songs with him whenever she felt like it. Everly's bubbly and loud spirit also played a part in helping Maddy's speech issue. Everly would never let anyone ignore her, so she was one of the first people to get her twin sister to speak up and communicate. This as well, made their relationship grow and made it more special than any other, differentiate them from other twins. In fact, Madelyn was Everly's biggest fan. She would listen to Ev's songs before she would feel up to showing anyone else, and always went to any show she performed at. Even at 12, Everly was already a fantastic singer and song-writer, with many people who don't even know her family praising her for her immense amount of talent.

Sunnie Elizabeth Catherine Way

DOB: March 11th 2019 Age: 5 years old Hometown: Nashville, Tennessee Nicknames: Sun, Sunshine S/O: No One Kids: None Best Friend(s): Hattie Rokken Aesthetic: Sunnie was a child that grew up in a tough time. Her parents divorced when she was 3 and so she had difficulty understanding proper family dynamics unlike her older sisters. Though she was universally adored in her family, being the youngest for 5 years, she didn't get to experience sisterhood like her siblings did. She's very hyperactive and fun-loving, her mother indulged in this during her divorce, needing the extra space of sunshine during a hard time for the family. Sunnie had issues with understanding stability, constantly going from her mom's house to her dad's and watching her friends and cousins have good family ties. When her parents subsequently got back together in 2024, she learned reassurance and steadiness in her day to day life. When they picked up and moved to Nashville, it was a dramatic change for her, however she didn't mind it, nor did it alternate her upbeat personality. And let's be real, Sunnie is so a country girl anyways. Sunnie is obsessed with her baby sister, Emmylou. She now has someone sort of closer to her age that she can grow up with, consider that Madelyn and Everly are 7 years older than her, and that she never had anyone to be friends with in her family. This love for her sister prided her parents very much, and they were excited to watch them interact.

#mcr introductions #mcr #mikey way #mikey way x oc #taylor way #taylor mccoy #reese way #august way #mackenzie way #delaney way #juliet way #annie way #madelyn way #everly way #sunnie way #emmylou way

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