#the first and last time they made direct eye contact <3< /div>
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pathologicalreid · 3 hours ago
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the anniversary effect | s.r.
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in which the anniversary of reader's assault nears and Spencer would move heaven and earth to make sure she's okay
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: past sa, rohypnol, chemist!reader, technically a continuation of don't get dark, but you don't have to read it first, not proofread because im a freak, panic attack, hydroxyzine, ptsd, read with care word count: 1.96k a/n: @lilacsandlavenderhaze you asked me to tag you when i publish this <3 so here it is <3 also hey guys do we like our summaries in the second or third person?
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Spencer looked down at the keypad that would unlock the door to your lab. A custodian had let him in the chemistry building after a slight misuse of his bureau credentials, but he hadn’t realized that he wouldn’t be able to get into the laboratory. Every time he’d been here before, it had been either during working hours or you’d known to expect him. This time, you had no idea he was here.
He'd been looking everywhere for you, and he wasn’t sure why the lab wasn’t the first place he checked. Garcia had checked your phone’s location for him.
He eyed the keypad as if it were an enemy, looking for patterns in which keys were more worn than others, but your lab wasn’t the only one behind these doors. There was no way for him to be sure.
Ten keys mean ten thousand possible permutations, and that didn’t include the possibility that he might need to hit the pound sign or asterisk before or after the code. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he called your cell first—it went straight to voicemail. When he called your lab phone, it rang six times before he was asked to leave a message. He put his phone back in his pocket and tried a number—your birth year—and tried the same number with the pound sign and asterisk.
Spencer ran a frantic hand through his hair. He never should’ve gone on the case. He never should’ve been in Arizona while he knew you were stuck in your own mind. He tried another combination—the year you got your PhD—to no avail.
The two of you had talked about it last week. You started pulling away from him, and he finally commented on your behavior when his hand on your shoulder frightened you so badly that you dropped your favorite mug on the kitchen floor. Thankfully you hadn’t been burnt by any of the hot coffee, but upon discovering the mug was ruined, you were inconsolable. It was as if the broken mug had been your final straw, and Spencer had left for Flagstaff that day.
He tried a new combination—your birth month and date—and the keypad still flashed red. He released a huff of frustration and wondered if it would be fair form to shoot out the lock. Spencer shook his head, dismissing the extreme option from his list of choices before he resorted to wiggling the door handle, hoping the mechanism would fail and he could open the door.
A noise behind him caught his attention. Briefly, he made eye contact with the custodian, a young guy with spiked blonde hair, “Did you forget your ID?” He asked, pulling a wired earbud from his ear and jutting his chin in the direction of the door.
The lie formed in Spencer’s mind, already building a story to run by the custodian in order to get through the doors, “I left it in my office, would you mind?” Spencer gestured to the keypad, hoping he could get the custodian to swipe him through.
“Yeah, sure,” the blonde guy said, stalking over and pulling on his badge reel, swiping his university ID, and opening the door when it finally flashed green. “Have a good night, man,” the employee said, replacing his earbud before returning to his cart.
It was almost too easy to get him to open the door, which Spencer didn’t particularly appreciate. In this instance, it turned out to be beneficial, but he didn’t like that anyone could be let into the labs if they simply looked like they might belong. Instead of griping about it, he thanked him and slipped through the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way to your private lab.
You’d taken a new job recently, jumping to a different university in the district where they offered you a private lab for your research, and you seemed happy here. You had all of the freedom you needed to do things like stay at work even as the clock approached midnight. Maybe it was too much freedom, at least for right now.
He opened the door that had your name written across it, slowly stepping into the dark lab as he looked around for you. Spencer didn’t see you, and there weren’t many places for you to be out of view, in the dark, his other senses accommodated the loss of his sight, and his ears pricked when he heard a small shuffle.
Taking another step forward, he peeked around a lab table and found you.
You backed yourself into a corner, leaving nothing but a pile of limbs flush with the cabinet as you sat in silence, either ignoring or unaware of Spencer’s presence. He approached you with the same delicacy that one would approach a doe, he didn’t want to scare you. Hundreds of possibilities flurried through his mind as he crouched in front of you and took notice of the small bottle in your hand.
When you and Spencer had just started dating, before you’d ever been intimate, you’d told him about a time you went out with a group of college friends that ended with one of them attacking you. He drugged you and assaulted you, leaving you with a physical scar on your side and an emotional one on your heart.
Spencer didn’t make a habit of hating people he never met, but he made an exception in this case. He allowed himself to despise this man on your behalf, justifying his emotions every time he remembered how badly the memories made you cry.
It’d been three years, almost to the date since you’d been attacked, and all it took was a good look at the bottle in your hand and he knew exactly what was going on. He read the label over again. Flunitrazepam.
Rohypnol.
“Hey, baby,” Spencer whispered, morphing his tone into something that would suit the atmosphere. He watched your body language, the way your breathing hitched at the sound of your voice.
The despondent look in your eyes snapped into fear before you settled, your shoulders calming down slightly at the recognition that there wasn’t an enemy in front of you. It was Spencer.
Swallowing thickly, he reached out a hand and took the bottle. You tightened your grip on it, not wanting him to take it from you, “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he assured you, “I’m just gonna set this on the counter for you.”
Your grip slackened and he followed through on his promise, keeping a wary eye on you as you looked around the lab, staring at the floor as if it was entirely foreign to you, “I don’t remember sitting,” you muttered aimlessly, looking up at Spencer through your safety goggles. Spencer noticed the way your breathing quickened, “I didn’t— What time is it?”
He shook his head, trying to grab your hands before you pulled them into your lap, he settled for one hand on your knee, something to ground you, “It’s late,” he told you.
“I… I had a meeting with a professor in pharmacology. We were… he wanted to work with me on a project,” you placed your head in your hands, shaking your head like you had lost time. “He’d read my research on the dye they use in Rohypnol to make light-colored drinks turn blue, and wondered if we could find something to color dark liquids like cola.”
It was terrible, atrocious timing on the part of the pharmacist, but he didn’t know any better. Instead of telling you that, Spencer sat down on the floor in front of you, “Baby, do you remember what we talked about last week? Did you call your therapist?”
Nodding absently into your palms, you lifted your head and haphazardly pulled off your goggles, “I saw her today, she talked to me about the same thing you did.”
You and Spencer had an in-depth discussion about the anniversary effect. “It’s okay that you were triggered by a conversation that normally wouldn’t have had such a big impact on your day,” he told you gently, squeezing your knee comfortingly.
“Stop,” you responded, dropping your hand and looking back at him, you set your goggles on the floor and took a deep, trembling breath. “Spence, I can’t—” your voice broke off in a mess of gasps, and Spencer instinctively moved closer to you.
Gingerly, Spencer lifted your chin in hopes that it would open your airway and help your breathing, “I know, baby. I’ve got you,” he reassured you, taking your hands in his when you started anxiously scratching at your forearm. “I’m right here,” he murmured, “it’s me, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your hands as he comforted you, whispering sweet nothings to you as he waited patiently for your breathing to even out before speaking again.
“Do you need anything?” Spencer was silently offering you the same three options he always did: space, water, and medication. You had a prescription for hydroxyzine that you were supposed to take as needed, and when you very softly answered ‘pill’, Spencer let go of your hands to go get it from your backpack.
He pulled the bottle from the front pouch and grabbed your water bottle from where it sat in front of your computer, he dosed out one pill and handed it to you, watching you wash it down, closing your eyes, and leaning your head back. “How was work?” You asked.
Crouching in front of you, Spencer smoothed your hair back, “It was fine, we can talk about it later if you want. Right now, I’m focused on you,” he answered, avoiding your redirection.
You nodded in understanding, allowing Spencer to maneuver you when he helped you to your feet.
Spencer cupped your face in both of his hands, “Let’s get you home, huh? Have you eaten?” His brown eyes studied you now that they’d adjusted more to the dark, your under-eye circles looked more pronounced in the moonlight, and he wondered if you’d been sleeping. “I think there’s a bowl of soup with your name on it at home,” he whispered, taking your keys and locking the Rohypnol up in a cabinet.
A soft smile tugged at your lips, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel like that was a victory. “I’m okay,” you told him, some strength returning to your voice.
Spencer nodded, sweeping a lock of hair behind your ear, “Let’s get some food in you,” he reemphasizes. He kept your keys in his hand, you took the metro to work, so Spencer could just drive the both of you home. He looked back at the door, watching you as you slowly shut down the lab and gathered your things, “Hey, what’s your code to get into the labs?”
You frowned at him and shrugged, “1-0-2-8,” you told him, powering off your computer monitor and letting him help you pull your jacket on.
His movements faltered, and without a second thought, he carefully wrapped his arms around you. You hummed in response, reciprocating the hug after taking a deep breath. “I love you,” he whispered, tenderly rubbing your back.
“I love you too,” you responded, finally relaxing into him. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” you apologized, loosening your embrace so you could look at him.
He shook his head once, “it’s okay,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just, next time—well, hopefully there isn’t a next time—answer your phone,” he said, watching you. He’d continue to keep an eye on you, but you were strong. Spencer knew, just like the others, that this storm would eventually pass.
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willgaham · 1 year ago
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HANNIBAL 1.01 | 3.13
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
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OMGGGGGGG
the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭
can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on
Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 
A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 
He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 
“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 
Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 
“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 
“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 
You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 
James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 
Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?
“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 
James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 
He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 
“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 
“This is good.” 
“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 
Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 
“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 
You look like you stop breathing. 
And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 
He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 
It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 
“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 
“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 
“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 
James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 
You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 
“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  
You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 
“A couple,” you admit. 
“Oh? What about?” 
Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 
James’ brain short-circuits. 
“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 
Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 
You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 
“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 
James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 
“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 
He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 
You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 
You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 
“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 
“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 
You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 
“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 
You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 
He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 
“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 
Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 
“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 
You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 
James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.
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almadelsur · 10 days ago
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💋 The Turmoil One Suffers
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summary: In the second installment of The Secrets One Keeps, a relaxing day on the pogue proves to be anything but, with your inner struggles getting the better of you and JJ hot on your tail.
jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader
warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, talks of suffocation ig? plz let me know if I've missed anything.
a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering I first wrote this like 3 years ago. Also, for those asking, I won't be doing a taglist for this fic bc I'm lazy and technologically deficient.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
You shouldn’t have been smoking, it made you feel uneasy, paranoid even.
You had found yourself on the pogue in the wake of Pope’s incessant bitching about how you had to make up for ditching them last night. The guilt had made you cave in. As he spoke, all that had flashed through your head was images of Rafe. You on top of Rafe, Rafe with his hands around your neck, the way Rafe’s hair felt between your fingers as you gripped on it when he got messy between your-
“Dude” Sarah’s voice snapped you out of your recurring thoughts.
You turned your head to her as you took a drag of the blunt JJ had rolled, "hmm?"
“I asked if you wanted a beer?”
You checked the time on your phone, 12pm. After enduring 3 hours on this floating nightmare, you decide you're probably deserving of one.
“uh yeah sure.” You took another hit, extending your arm to grab the cold bottle.
You bought the edge of the glass bottle up to your lips and took a swig, letting the liquid wash over your cotton mouth. A swig swiftly turning into a gulp as thirst suddenly became itself known to you. One gulp then turned to two and before you knew it the bottle dried out.
JJ eyed your every move, the feeling that had been bugging him since you got into the Twinkie that morning had now grown into full-blown concern. Your unusual behaviour was deafening with the sounds of alarm bells.
“Thirsty?” He spoke with furrowed brows, prompting Pope to chuckle though no joke had been intended.
Your eyes flickered towards JJ momentarily and instantly you knew what he was  thinking. Anger disguised as adrenaline coursed through you.
“Sarah will you pass me another? Mines empty.” Defiance clear in your tone, causing a thick tension to settle over the boat.
“'s a bit it early to start chugging drinks isn’t it?” JJ speaks up again before Sarah has time to respond.
You scoffed as you turned to him once more, maintaining eye contact as you took a long drag from blunt. As you exhaled the smoke, the thick white cloud blurred his features.
“Sarah” you tried again.
You hear a small sigh as she hands you another bottle.
“Thank you” You took another swig at the bottle, hoping the liquid would force down the concoction of guilt and anger that swirled in your mouth.
“So like am I saying words out loud or is it just in my head?” JJ tried, at this point he just wanted a reaction out of you.
“You asked me to come here.” Your tone was snippy, as another burst of smoke entered your system.
“well my mistake clearly.” He was getting pissed off now, and you couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction it gave you. You knew it was unfair, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you just couldn’t help it.
Pope cleared his throat. “This is a whole lotta tension for such a little boat.” He tried to lighten the mood but his joke fell flat.
As you downed your second beer, you took another drag. “It is isn’t it?” You turned to him.
“Maybe you should have some of this JJ, it’ll help you relax.” You threw the blunt in his direction, letting it fall at his feet.
“What the hell crawled up your ass today?” JJ spat at you, picking up the blunt.
The mixture of alcohol and weed infected your system, your breathing became staggered as you suddenly became hyper aware of the layers clinging onto your body.
You don't answer. Instead choosing to stand up and remove your T-shirt. Rafe returned to your mind as you focused on the image of him mimicking your same actions. Your trousers were next to go. You pushed them down whilst picturing Rafe’s hands running down your legs.
Pope eyed Sarah and JJ who’s gaze were trained on you and your movements.
“Whatcha doing there bud?” Sarah asked watching you strip down to your underwear.
“I’m too hot” was all you said, stepping off the edge of the boat and letting yourself plunge into the cool water below you.
As you became completely submerged, you breathed out all of the air in your irritated lungs. Leaving you empty and heavy as you continued to sink. The muffled noises of the water hit against your head yet all you could hear was your thoughts racing. 
As the need for air increased, the rush of thought slowed. You liked it. The weightlessness of your body, mixed with the numbing of all of your senses was peacefull. A welcome change from the overdrive your body had been running on for the past year. 
You forced yourself to stay down there, pushing your physical boundaries. A split second before completely losing consiousness you emerged again, letting the air penetrate through your system and invade your insides as it worked to reboot your muscles before giving life again to the internal mayhem in your mind again. 
You floated with your head above the surface and your back facing the pogues. You couldn’t find yourself to act remotely interested in what they thought about your little show. 
JJ in turn felt as though he was slowly loosing his head. He felt dumbfounded because it wasn’t just your behaviour that was different, your entire demeanour and vibe was off and he failed to comprehend what could have happened in the span of 12 hours for you to return to him a complete different person. 
Sarah could see the way he looked at you, he was hot on your tail and she panicked trying to divert his calculating eyes from you. “So” she spoke up loud enough so that you could hear and be part of the conversation should you wish to. “Theres a party at my house tonight.”
“Oh really?” JJ answered, evidently uninterested as he continued his stare down with the back of your head. 
“Yeah Ward’s out of town with Rose and y'know Rafe, any opportunity he has to get shitfaced he’ll take it.” Relief washed over her as JJ’s eyes finally unglued from you. 
At the mention of Rafe your ears perked up. 
“Do you guys wanna come?” A devilish grin on her face evident as she spoke. 
“A kook party? We wouldn't be welcome.” Pope answered for the three of you, prompting a scoff from Sarah. 
“It’s my house too, plus I already threatened Rafe to let me invite you guys. I told him I’d snitch on him otherwise.” She shrugged.
“I’m sure he loved that” JJ added, amused at the thought of antagonising the Cameron boy. 
“Well what did he say?” Three pairs of eyes turned to you as you finally spoke up from the water, now facing the boat again. 
JJ couldnt help the face that your question caused him to pull. Why did you suddenly care about what Rafe Cameron had to say? Sarah already said they could go so why did it even matter? 
“He said whatever as long we stay away from him.” Her answer caused Pope and JJ to roll their eyes. It had been somewhat of a lie though. 
Because what Rafe had really said when Sarah had threatened him was, “whatever just stay away from us, and why don't you go ahead and bring that sexy little friend of yours.” 
To which Sarah had replied with, “We wouldn’t want to hang out with you and your classist friends anyway. Also, Kiara’s with JJ, and Y/N wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole so.” Unkowing of the situation between you and Rafe.
Looking back at it now, Rafe’s coy response of “we’ll see” suddenly made much more sense to her as she shuddered slightly in disgust. 
“Can’t we take a night off? I mean don’t you guys think we’ve been going a little extra hard recently?” Pope tried to reason as you swam back up towards the boat, forcing yourself on board again. 
“I’ll be there.” You interjected as the water ran down your body, soaking the deck of the hms. 
“we all will be.” JJ fired back, a confusing swirl of concern and anger towards your attitude fought for dominance within his head. 
You ignored him once more and lay back on the sodden deck, letting your persistant introspection rest as the blanket that was intoxication comforted you. You looked up at the clouds and the weighlessness returned. Before you knew it, he sounds of Pope and Sarah chatting drifted away with the soft waves that carried the boat. You lost grip on consciousness as the sun lulled you to sleep.
Around half an hour went by before JJ spoke up. “hey" he double checked you were definitely asleep.
He took your silence as confirmation before turning to the other two. “Y'all saw that right?”
“Saw what?” Sarah played dumb even though he she knew exactly what he was referring to.
“the way she was acting” He whisper shouted, confused as to why no one else seemed remotely worried. “It was like she hated us.” He spoke with the tone of a wounded man.
“Yeah… us.” Pope muttered under his breath.
“I think she’s just tired J, she uh- she had a long night.” Sarah stiffled what had been something between a laugh and a groan.
“Nah guys look- I know her, that wasn’t normal.” JJ didn’t ease up.
“We all know her.” Pope jumped on the defensive.
“c’mon dude it’s not just me, somethings obviously wrong”
At this point Sarah wished for anything to distract him, because as much as JJ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to academic performance, he most certainly wasn’t dumb. And he definitely knew what he was talking about when it came to you.
“Maybe It’s.. you know..” Pope waggled his eyebrows. “Her time…” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “of- of the month?”
“Nice Pope.” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“’s not that. Guys look listen to me somethings definitely wr-“ the ringing of his phone interrupted JJ mid sentence. Saved by the bell. Literally.
JJ grabbed his phone and his frown eased up slightly as he looked at the caller ID.
“Hey baby” his tone made it seem like whatever he had been worrying about softened it’s grip on him at the sound of her voice. “Uh huh, okay give us ten and we’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Kie?” Sarah asked, praying he wouldn’t resume his ramble.
“Yeah she’s finished up at the wreck, wants us to go get her.” And with that the subject was dropped.
—————————————————————————
The late afternoon breeze stroked you awake as you suddenly became aware of the voices around you.
Your eyes fluttered open and you stirred where you lay, your body stiff from the 4 hour positioning against the hard wood of the hms. You slowly sat yourself up and threw your T-shirt back on your body before turning back to glance at the now complete group of pogues. Fuck how long had you been out for.
You let your eyes linger on Kiara and JJ a couple of seconds longer than everybody else. He laughed carelessly pulling her tighter against his side. You groaned out quietly and reached for your phone, typing out that damned name.
To Rafe: Having a party and you didn’t invite me? I’m almost offended.
Almost instantly a reply came through.
Miss me already?
You rolled your eyes as he sent you another.
Figured Sarah would open her big mouth, better see you tonight ;)
“Morning Camper.” John B spoke up. You turned around to face him, every single one of them with their attention on you.
“Hey can you take me home?” You directed at no one in particular.
“You don’t wanna stay and hang out?” Kie asked, she wanted to reach you, connect with you.
“I just want to go home” You were irritated and your head hurt, you were certainly in no mood for any of this.
John B was next to try “C’mon man we haven’t all hung out like this in ag-“
“Fuck just take me home” You lashed out. “please” You added in an attempt to soften the blow.
Silence fell over the pogues as John B lifted himself up and steered the boat towards the direction of your house.
As you hopped down you muttered a joyless goodbye to everyone.
“Wait! I’ll walk you in.” JJ peeled himself away from Kiara and followed behind you, slightly speeding as you hadn’t bothered to stop and wait.
He walked beside you, waiting until you were both out of hearing distance from the others.
“why are you angry?” He spoke up.
“I’m not angry.” You tried to walk faster but a calloused hand stopped you.
“Stop. Just stop.” You heard the desperation in his voice as he turned you around to face him. “can you just talk to me? Look whatever I did to piss you off I’m sorry. You just- you were fine yesterday and now all of a sudden you hate us-“
“Stop JJ” You just wanted it to stop. The consequence of your actions pounding down on you with every word that left his mouth.
“Stop what?!” He couldn’t help but shake you.
“Talking! Stop talking!” You shoved him forcefully off of you.
“The hell's wrong with you?! dude I’m worried about you. Today’s just been so weird.” His fingers shoved themselves through his hair, a nervous habit of his.
The familiar lump in your throat began to form at the sight of your best friend.
“I’m tired J.” It wasn’t a lie, you really were fucking exhausted. You were tired of lying, tired of watching the boy you loved love someone else, tired of trudging through your life heartbroken.
“You’re lying.” He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Why you lyin' to me?”
“JJ. I’m. Tired.” You screwed your eyes shut as your breathing began to quicken “I’m not lying I’m just-“
“Okay alright.”  His embrace cut you off. “I believe you.” He hated seeing you upset. Having known you practically his whole life, he also knew that nothing ever got resolved when you got like this, so he dropped the subject.
You almost broke down then and there, using everything you had in you to move your arms around him, hugging him back.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the meaning behind your words far greater than he could realise.
“Hey it’s okay, we all have off days right?” He let go of you and gave you a small smile.
“Right.” Your remained court and quiet. 
“I’ll see you tonight. Go rest for a bit okay?”
You nodded and began to walk away before his voice stopped you once more.
“Yo” You turned to see that he had shoved his hands in pockets. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right?” He hated that he even had to ask.
“Mhm, course” You lied straight through your teeth before turning and walking away from him uninterrupted. You knew that as soon and as your bedroom door closed behind you, you’d sink down into a pit of despair and loathing.
Whilst the resolution had given him a little comfort, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t the end of it.
Perhaps he should have left things alone, maybe then things wouldn’t have escalated to extent that they were about to.
So as he watched you walk away, JJ stood there unknowing of what was to come. Unknowing of the way things were about to change between you forever.
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osachiyo · 1 year ago
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⋆。°DRUNK DAZED ! ☆
﹙✮﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, atsushi, ranpo, sigma & tetchou x fem! reader ♡
﹙✮﹚── content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, facesitting, overstimulation, petnames, degradation, penetrative sex, a teeeeeny tiny mention of blood etc ♡
﹙✮﹚── synopsis : they're pussydrunk ♡
﹙✮﹚── author's note : since y'all chose smut for the poll here you guys go, enjoy the meal hehe 😋 birthday fic coming next so keep an eye out for that 😏
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DAZAI ⋆。° ✮
You bit on your bottom lip to suppress your moans, legs shaking like jelly as a mixture of your slick and your boyfriend's saliva ran down your legs, staining the cold floor of the storage room of the agency. You really hoped nobody came to look for you two, or even walk in the direction of the room.
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"keep your legs open, pretty," dazai slurred, his voice deep with lust and more importantly, the adoration he held for you. You were his pretty baby, after all. His sweet belladonna, who he was eating like a 3 course meal right now. You were pushed against the door of the storage room while he was on his knees, worshipping his pussy.
Dazai felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, it was most likely Kunikida, wondering where the hell the brunette went during work hours. He couldn't care less though, too busy making out with your cunt. His skilled tongue worked wonders on your clit, fingers buried knuckles deep into your velvety walls as you bit the back of your hand to try and stay quiet. He kept eye contact with you the whole time, pulling his fingers out briefly to fuck you with his tongue, chocolate brown eyes staring deep into your own teary ones. "you look so beautiful right now. I wish you could see yourself, bella," he hummed, voice smooth like honey as he buried his face even deeper between your wobbly legs, wanting to taste every last drop of your addicting arousal. He could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the fabric ever so restricting. He ignored it though, too focused on making you cum on his tongue first. His nose bumped against your clit everytime he thrusted his tongue into you. He watched your eyes roll back slightly, losing focus as you tug on his fluffy hair, "close— 'm close! 'samu—" you threw your head back, some drool slipping past your lips as your grip tightened on his brunette roots. "I know, baby, I know. cum f'me, sweetheart. I know you can," he groaned, the noise vibrating against your cunt. That was the last straw before you came all over his face. He eagerly slurped up all of your slick, moaning lowly at the slightly bitter taste. You were addicting to him. He stood up, dusting off his pants before he pulled your panties back up, snapping the waistband against your skin with a smirk. His arms were still holding you up, supporting your weight as you calmed down from your high. You looked down to see a puddle of your juices on the floor and Dazai's...soaked pants? "osamu, did you—" you were cut off by the door slamming open.
You were fucked, good luck.
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CHUUYA ⋆。° ✮
You were tied to the bedpost for God knows how long, the red ribbons snaked around your naked body while the pretty pink vibrator attached to your clit buzzed away, tormenting you with each passing second. You regretted messing with Chuuya during his phone call. You should've just been a good girl, he said before leaving you all tied up and needy.
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Your ears perked up when the bedroom door opened, Chuuya walked in the room with a cocky smirk. "how's my little slut holding up?" He chuckled, clearly satisfied with how much of a mess he made you. He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ear. He groaned, you were practically sitting on a pool of your own arousal, your inner thighs shiny with your slick. He brought a hand down to your core, collecting some of your slick on his gloved finger before shoving them inside you. You gasped, back arching from the sudden intrusion. Your tummy felt like it was on fire, being denied release for hours. "s'mean— you're mean," you sniffeled, glaring up at your lover with teary eyes. His lips stretched to a grin at your adorableness, "this too much for you, sweetness?" He cooed, making space for himself between your legs and laying on his stomach. He took his gloves off, chucking them somewhere in the room before he licked his lips in anticipation. He could smell how turned on you were, desperate for your sweet orgasm. Your hips bucked when his fingers inched closer to your heat, making him stifle a laugh. He finally took the vibrator off, placing it on the fancy nightstand beside the bed before diving head first between your thighs. He licked a fat stripe up your cunt, bucking his hips into the soft mattress as he ate you like a starved animal. You tried to grab onto something— anything to ground yourself but alas, you were still tied up. He suckled on your swollen clit eagerly, lips wrapped around the sensitive bud as his tongue swirled around it. You squealed when his fingers pushed into your hole again, your gummy walls twitching around them. "good— tastes so good, doll. been thinking about this all fucking evening,” he growled into your cunt. Being edged for so long, you couldn't hold out for much longer, squirting all over his face. He blinked, clearly shocked from your juices spraying all over him. You were about to apologize when you saw Chuuya’s eyes darken, jaw clenching as he stared at you, “that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen you do, fuck,” he groaned, going back to devouring you with double— if not triple the eagerness. “you’re gonna do that again. I’m not stopping until you soak the whole fuckin’ bed.”
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ATSUSHI ⋆。° ✮
Words couldn’t describe how fucking exhausted you were right now, your body aching from how long Atsushi had been drilling his cock into you. You were so overstimulated at this point, pussy swollen from the continuous abuse your boyfriend had been putting it through.
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“shit— baby, you feel s’good, so tight for me—” Atsushi groaned, his claws digging into your hips, drawing slight blood as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock. He was practically foaming at the mouth, just as overstimulated as you were but showed absolutely no signs of stopping anytime soon. His cock was swollen and an angry shade of red, indicating just how sensitive he was but he still could not get enough of your sticky cunt, burying himself in you even though his dick was screaming at him to give it a rest. You weren’t any better either, brain completely fried from his cock driving in and out of you at a rapid pace, his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit while you racked your pretty nails down his back. It was downright filthy. But the both of you were too out of it too care, losing yourselves in each other’s embrace. “cumming— oh god, fuck!” He panted, biting your shoulder to ground himself atleast a little bit.
It had been an hour since that, he was shooting blanks into your battered cunt at this point. Your eyes were barely open, close to passing out, your legs felt like jelly from how much they were trembling, nails now buried in the sheets as you sobbed, “ ‘sushi— ‘m too sensitive! can’t—” you gasped when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, whining, “jus’ one more time, pleasepleaseplease—” he shuddered before painting your insides white with his seed, arms wrapped around your half conscious figure as he savoured the blissful high. You almost fell asleep after a few minutes, eyes closing when Atsushi’s hips start moving again. You were about to speak when he cut you off, “shh, just one more, please?”
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RANPO ⋆。° ✮
"ranpo, I'm not gonna sit on your face," you huffed, crossing your arms. He pouted, "c'mon, sugar. it'd feel sooooo good." You sighed, deadpanning at him. "I'll share my snacks with you for a month if you—" "deal."
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You chewed on your bottom lip as you hovered over Ranpo's face, "are you sure about this? I don't want to accidentally hurt y—" you gasped when he pulled down on his awaiting mouth, too impatient to let you finish your sentence or reassure you. His thumb pushed your panties to the side, revealing your pretty pussy to him. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you whimper. You tried to sit back up on your knees but he was holding you down tight, slim fingers digging into your hips. His greedy tongue swirled around your clit before flicking it. He moaned into your cunt when you ground down on his face, muttering out little curses and his name. His tongue moved down to your hole, pushing in while he brought his hand to your clit, fingers rubbing your clit in swift circles. You felt like you were on cloud nine, mouth watering at the pleasure your boyfriend was inflicting upon you. You reached back to cup his dick through his shorts, the fabric slightly damp with his precum. He gasped when you palmed him through them, pinching your clit lightly to get back at you. You yelped, grinding down harder on his eager face, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. He liked that. He scoffed, the sound muffled between your thighs. He greedily slurped on your juices, savouring your taste on his tongue and fuck, he could feel his eyes roll back behind closed lids. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten— so close to snapping. "yesyesyes— god, ranpo!" You squealed, gushing all over your lover's face. He let out a guttural noise, drinking all of your arousal up before finally lifting you up from his face. You could see his face completely soaked with your liquid, a lopsided grin on his face, "see? was that so bad?" You laughed, shaking your head, wondering why the actual fuck you hadn't tried it sooner.
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SIGMA ⋆。° ✮
You had Sigma tied up on your bed, pretty pink ribbons matching his pretty pink cock, leaking precum from the flushed tip. He was glaring at you, demanding to be untied immediately but you just smirked, having too much fun teasing your boyfriend like this.
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"such a good boy, aren't you, sigma?" You slurred, eyes shutting in pleasure when he flicked his tongue on your clit, hard cock aching to be inside you. Your hand brushed through his bangs, making him look up at you, your slick covering the lower half of his handsome face. God, he was beautiful. He hummed against your leaking cunt, slobbering all over your heat. He wanted to pleasure you with everything he had, his tongue, fingers and cock but unfortunately for him, he was tied up. He wasn't too sure of the idea before but now? Now he was enthusiastically burying his face between your thighs, running his tongue up and down your pretty folds. You tasted like heaven to him, a little break from the hell he went through. Your moans and giggles of pleasure were music to his ears, making his face flush with each lewd noise you make. His brain felt foggy from your addicting taste, so sweet on his tongue as he lapped everything up, nose bumping against your clit. You'd think he was one getting head from how much pre his cock was leaking, he couldn't help but hump the mattress, growing downright addicted to your taste. Lavender and white locks of hair framing his face perfectly, your hand buried in it as he ate you up like his last meal on earth. He could feel your cunt clenching and unclenching on his tongue and he moaned, the sound borderline pornographic as his eyes rolled back. His face was flushed a shade of pink down to his neck. "god— you taste so—" he cut himself off with a groan, gasping when you cum all over his face, your head thrown back and exposing your neck as you moan his name. You looked down to see Sigma's face red, swollen lips coated in a layer of your shiny slick. He looked dazed, half lidded eyes looking at you with hunger, "more. n-need more," he panted, burying his face back into your sopping heat.
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TETCHOU ⋆。° ✮
You didn't know how you ended up like this, one moment you're training with your boyfriend and the next moment you're getting folded by him on the carpeted floor as he bullies his thick cock past your tight entrance.
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You felt like you were in a daze, legs pushed up against your chest, mouth forming an 'o' shape as your eyes roll back into your skull. Tetchou's bangs were brushing against your forehead, sweat dripping down his muscular back as he rolled his hips into you. He could see and feel the way your cunt sucked him in, not letting him go. He placed open mouthed kisses on your neck and collarbones, nibbling on the sensitive flesh. His fingers dug into the back of your thighs, leaving indented marks from how firm he was gripping them. "hah— takin' my cock s'well," he rasped before pressing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers while plowing into you. Your pussy was all swollen and sensitive from how long he'd been at this. His previous load was dripping down your ass, staining the carpet below. You felt so good— so tight and wet all for him, he felt like home in your cunt, hips smacking against your ass erratically while you milked his cock for all it's worth. You couldn't even think properly anymore, too fucked out to have any coherent thoughts but his cock. He could feel his mouth water at the sight of your teary eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out slightly as he fucked the brains out of you. He wasn't any better either, panting and gasping with each thrust, growling every time you clench down on his cock so deliciously. You put him in a trance, he wasn't thinking with his brain anymore, much too occupied by drilling his cock into your welcoming heat, fat tip kissing your cervix with each thrust, making a wet noise each time his hips met your ass.
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©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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tojiluv · 6 months ago
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UNVEILING LOVE — uchiha clan ft. sasuke, itachi, shisui, madara, obito [imagine]
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context: how would the uchiha men realize their feelings and confess to you? based on “why do you make me feel like this?"
warnings: au. fluff. gn! reader. slight ooc?
notes: this has been sitting in the dust for a while, thank sensen for this idea and motivating me. not my art above.
tags: only for @seneon <3
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SASUKE UCHIHA — ❝ THE LAST UCHIHA ❞ 
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Sasuke wouldn’t initially understand his feelings for you, unsure of how they differed from those of a friend to a potential lover. Knowing Sasuke, he wouldn’t confess to you due to his past mistakes and doubts about whether he could give you what you want. But that would soon change once he returned to the village and saw you hanging out with a random guy who kept making you laugh at a vendor shop. When you noticed your teammate returning, you waved at him, not realizing the glare he was directing at your friend. Before you could get a word out, Sasuke gently grabbed your arm and pulled you away, making you follow him out of the store without a chance to say goodbye. He kept walking silently until you were alone in a random alleyway, hidden from prying eyes.
“Hey! Sasuke, what was that about? Is everything okay?”
"Who was that?" he asked, his eyes focused on your delicate features that he had grown to admire. You tilted your head, confused by his question.
"Huh? Oh, you mean Lino! He’s just a friend I've been visiting," you said, not noticing how your comment made him feel a bit jealous. Sasuke kept quiet, pondering whether he should say anything or continue to avoid his feelings for you. He wondered if you truly liked him the way he liked you, fearing the possibility of rejection.
Your eyes grew concerned as you watched the stoic male avoid eye contact. “I hope you know that I… I missed you,” you confessed, shyly looking to the side as his head shot up, eyes slightly widened. “I’m just glad you’re back now, even if it's only for a little bit. I’m happy you’re okay.”
Your heart suddenly raced faster than you could maintain as the stoic male grabbed your hand, holding it lightly before gripping it firmly with warmth. You glanced up, your face warming from the contact as you witnessed a small smile appear on his face. You had always had a crush on Sasuke since you became teammates on Team 7 with Naruto and Sakura, but you always hid your feelings deep down. You doubted that you would ever have a chance with Sasuke Uchiha.
"I’m glad you missed me… 'cause I’ve missed you too," he confessed, pulling you closer as you listened intently. "I… I didn’t understand this feeling, wondering what made me feel this way until I realized it was you."
You held your breath, nothing around you capturing your attention except the male in front of you.
“I thought about you the whole time I was away,” Sasuke sighed, gathering the courage to speak his feelings. “I realized that I’ve liked you for quite some time.”
Surprise consumed you, eyes wide open at the confession. You never expected this, especially from Sasuke, who usually wasn’t the type to express his feelings. But here you were, discovering that Sasuke Uchiha liked you, apparently for a long time now. Your heart swelled as a large smile spread across your lips, gripping his hand more tightly than before. Sasuke felt all the tension loosen from his shoulders as his admiration for you grew stronger from your words.
“I've always liked you, Sasuke, for years. And I will continue to do so as long as I’m by your side.”
ITACHI UCHIHA — ❝ ITACHI OF THE SHARINGAN ❞ 
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Itachi found himself in a rare moment of contemplation, leaning against the sturdy trunk of a cherry blossom tree. He allowed his thoughts to drift to a singular figure that seemed to occupy every corner of his mind: you. Closing his eyes, Itachi attempted to unravel the enigma of his feelings. When had he fallen in love with you? The question lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow.
He recalled the first time he met you, your bright eyes reflecting curiosity and kindness, a stark contrast to the darkness that often enveloped his world. At that moment, something stirred within him, a whisper of possibility that he dared not acknowledge, frustrating his inner being with the thoughts. As time passed, your presence became a constant in his life, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. Like music to his ears, your laughter echoed in his memories, warming even the coldest corners of his heart. Your unwavering support during challenging missions, and your gentle encouragement in moments of doubt—each interaction etched itself into his soul, leaving an indelible mark.
It was difficult for him to accept a different form of love to enter his complicated heart. 
Now, under the cascading petals of the cherry blossom tree, the realization hit him with a gale force. His chest tightened, and he opened his eyes, staring at the soft pink petals fluttering around him, their beauty a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his emotions settle within him. 
"Why do you make me feel like this?" he muttered to himself, the question laden with confusion and a touch of exasperation.
Just then, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and saw you walking towards him, your presence immediately calming the storm of his thoughts. You smiled, and he felt the familiar warmth spread through him, a warmth that he now recognized as love.
"Itachi, are you alright?" you asked, concerned.
He hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor cracking under the intensity of his feelings. For a moment, he considered staying silent, keeping his turmoil hidden. But then he realized he couldn't continue like this, trapped in his own emotions.
"It’s you," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You make me feel like this." Your eyes widened slightly, surprise and curiosity flickering across your face. "What do you mean?"
He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every time I see you and hear your voice, I feel something I can't ignore anymore. It’s confusing and frustrating, but I can't deny it any longer. I... I love you."
The words hung in the air between you, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying. Itachi's heart raced as he awaited your response, hoping that the feelings he'd kept hidden for so long would not be met with rejection.
You blinked, absorbing his words, and then a soft smile spread across your face. "Itachi," you said gently, taking his rough hands into your own. "I love you too."
Relief washed over him, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to truly smile. The complicated emotions that had plagued him began to untangle, replaced by a sense of peace he hadn't known was possible. At that moment, under the cherry blossom tree, Itachi Uchiha found solace in your embrace, knowing that he no longer had to face his feelings alone. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.
SHISUI UCHIHA — ❝ THE BODY FLICKER ❞ 
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The sound of clashing kunai echoed through the training grounds as you and Shisui sparred under the burning sun. Shisui's movements, usually swift and precise, seemed distracted today, his mind elsewhere. You noticed his unfocused gaze and slower reactions, wondering what could be bothering him. As you circled each other, you saw another opening and took it, landing a solid hit to his head. Shisui stumbled back, rubbing the spot where you had struck him, his expression a mix of pain and embarrassment.
"What’s wrong with you today?" you demanded, frustration clear in your tone. "You're not paying attention and using your full potential."
Shisui sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry," he muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I know I should be doing better."
Your annoyance faded slightly as you watched him. Shisui Uchiha, one of the most talented shinobi in the village, was never one to slack off during training. Something had to be seriously bothering him.
"Well, what's going on?" you asked, softer this time. "You can tell me."
Shisui hesitated, his mind racing. He had been overthinking his feelings for you for days, his thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and longing. He hadn't meant to let it affect his training, but being so close to you, yet unable to express how he felt, was driving him to lose focus.
"I... it's just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. "I've been thinking a lot lately, about... things." You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Things? What things?"
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "About you," he blurted out before he could stop himself. "I couldn’t understand why I was feeling this way until I realized that I… I like you!"
The silence that followed was deafening. Shisui's eyes widened as he realized what he had just confessed, his face turning crimson. He hadn't meant to say it, especially not like this.
Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by his sudden admission. "Shisui..."
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away slightly. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I did, but not like this. I just..."
You stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Shisui, it's okay," you said gently, a smile tugging at your lips. "You don't have to apologize.”
Shisui stood up from the ground, wiping off any dirt as he avoided eye contact, his face still flushed with embarrassment. "I thought you knew," he murmured. "I don’t even use my Sharingan and barely put any power into my movements during our training sessions..."
"I just thought you were going easy on me," you admitted, rubbing the back of your head and feeling a bit foolish for not realizing the obvious signs. However, a warmth spread through you at his vulnerability, and a glowing grin appeared on your lips. "Well, for the record, I like you too."
The relief that washed over Shisui's face was palpable, his tense shoulders relaxing as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, of course, you fell for my charms. How could you not?" he teased, a playful smile breaking through his worried expression.
You chuckled and shoved a hand against his shoulder. "Don’t get too ahead of yourself now. How about we continue sparring? But this time, I expect you to give it your all if you want to win over my heart fully."
Shisui grinned, feeling the weight of his unspoken feelings finally lifts. "Oh, you've got yourself a bet."
As you resumed your positions, you both couldn't shake the feeling that the sparring match had taken on a new, deeper significance. At that moment, under the fading light of the day, you both understood that this was the start of something special. The connection between you had deepened, turning a simple sparring match into a cherished memory. After the match (Shisui won), you sat together, hands linked, feeling a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that you had found something truly wonderful with each other.
MADARA UCHIHA — ❝ GHOST OF THE UCHIHA ❞
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Madara Uchiha, a man known for his iron will and unyielding resolve, found himself ensnared in an internal struggle that defied his every attempt at control. His feelings for you had become a thorn in his side, a relentless source of annoyance that he couldn’t simply brush away. In an attempt to cope, he had begun to distance himself from you, hoping that the space would extinguish the unwanted emotions. However, it only served to exacerbate the situation. You noticed his sudden coldness, the way he avoided your presence and cut conversations short. Hurt and frustrated, you decided to confront him. You found him in a secluded courtyard, his back turned as he stared out at the night sky, lost in thought.
“Madara,” you called out, your voice firm. “We need to talk.”
He didn’t turn, his silence only fueling your frustration. You walked closer, refusing to be ignored. “Why have you been avoiding me? What did I do?”
“It’s nothing,” he replied tersely, still not facing you.
“It’s not nothing!” you snapped, moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Tell me what’s going on!”
His jaw tightened, and you could see the storm brewing behind his dark eyes. “Just leave it alone,” he said, standing up from his spot to walk away.
“No,” you insisted, stepping into his path. “I won’t leave it alone. You owe me an explanation.”
The tension between you reached a breaking point. Madara’s frustration finally erupted. With a swift motion, he punched the wall beside him, cracks radiating out from the impact of his chakra. Despite the sudden action, you remained unflinching, eyes locked on his as you had anticipated this eruption from the stubborn Uchiha.
“Why do you have this effect on me?” he shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you? It’s infuriating!”
Your breath caught in your throat, but you pressed on, your voice softer now. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked. “Why push me away?”
“Because I’m in love with you!” he roared, the confession tearing out of him. “And I hate it! I hate that I can’t control it, that you make me feel this way!”
The raw intensity of his words hung in the air, his chest heaving from the outburst. You stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Madara,” you said softly, “you don’t have to fight it. I love you too.”
His eyes softened, the storm within them calming. Vulnerability seeped through his usually stoic facade as he looked at you. “You... do?”
“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “From the moment we met after the war, I knew I did.”
For a moment, silence enveloped them, allowing his words to sink in. Then, slowly, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. “I’ve been a fool,” he murmured against your hair, the tension in his body easing. “I should have told you sooner.” 
You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the solidity of his presence. “We’ll figure it out together,” you whispered.
In that embrace, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Madara finally allowed himself to let go of the control he had clung to so fiercely. The future might still be uncertain, but with you by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next.
OBITO UCHIHA — ❝ THE MASKED MAN ❞
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In the hidden depths of Obito Uchiha's heart, emotions swirled like a tumultuous storm, leaving him lost in a haze of confusion. Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, he struggled to decipher the true nature of his feelings for you. He watched you from afar, his heart yearning for something more, yet fearing the consequences of exposing his true emotions to the light. Each friendly gesture and shared moment deepened his uncertainty, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.
Day after day, he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, captivated by your smile, your laughter, your mere presence. Yet, beneath the surface of his admiration, a seed of jealousy lay dormant, gnawing at his soul whenever he saw you with another man. He attempted to suppress the pang of envy that pierced his heart whenever he witnessed you in someone else's company, but the feeling only intensified with each passing day. The mere thought of someone else holding your attention, of another person eliciting the smiles he longed to see from you, was unbearable to him.
Then, one fateful day, his worst fears materialized as he stumbled upon you in the village, your laughter intertwined with that of another man's. A surge of jealousy engulfed him, threatening to consume him whole as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes, witnessing a random leaf ninja bid farewell to you.
Unable to contain his emotions any longer, the words spilled from Obito's lips in a rush of desperation and longing. "I can't stand seeing you with him!" he blurted out, his voice laced with bitterness.
You turned to face him, surprise flickering in your eyes at his outburst and undetected presence. "Obito, what are you talking about?"
Obito took a shaky breath, his heart pounding, struggling to find the right words. "I–I'm sorry. It's just... I've been confused about my feelings for you and the way you affect my entire being. And then seeing you with him... it hurts."
A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like a shroud. And then, to his surprise, you reached out and took his hand in yours, your touch sending a jolt of warmth through his veins. "Obito… Say it, please."
He sighed, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket, his face burning from your intense look. “I know we're friends, and I value that more than anything, but I believe there's something more between us. And it's driving me insane because I… I cherish you deeply!”
Awaiting the sudden rejection, to his shock, you placed his hand against your cheek, your face nuzzling against his warmed palms as you graced him with the same sweet smile he had grown to love dearly.
“I've always loved you, Obito, ever since we became classmates in the academy. I knew that the boy who declared himself to be the next Hokage with those big goggles on his face was truly someone I would always admire.”
His heart skipped a beat at your words, a rush of euphoria flooding his senses as he realized how long you had waited for him. He couldn't believe his luck and fathom that the person he had been pining for felt the same way about him for so long. And as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss, Obito felt as though he were floating on air. In that moment, amidst the chaos of his emotions, he found a sense of clarity and peace, knowing that he had finally found the person who would stand by his side through thick and thin.
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© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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erideights · 1 year ago
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Little pieces here and there (1)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: two, three, four, five
Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)
Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting
A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).
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It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.
She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?
(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.
No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.
No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.
However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.
And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.
How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them?  Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.
"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh… Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.
Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.
''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.” The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.
''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?’’
Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so… innocent.  She expected threats with knives, to be honest.
And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.
''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too.  ’’I’ve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moron…’’ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. It’s incredible.
Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.
She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.
He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.
If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.
''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.’’ The lights go out and it’s then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?”
How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.
Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.
''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. I’m gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal and…’’ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''
Fuck. Was it that obvious?
''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because you’re a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."
She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.
In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and… she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.
"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."
Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"
"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"
She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.
In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.
Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesn’t need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide. 
Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?
"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something she’d call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesn’t find it/.
Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.
Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or that’s the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.
"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.
Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.
However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? You’re the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.
Adrenaline, probably.
"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.
Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.
Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.
"See you later, love."
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mickandmusings · 7 months ago
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feelings are fatal
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pairing: obi-wan kenobi x senator!f!reader
word count: 1.7k
summary: obi-wan has sworn to the life of the jedi, a life of service: no selfish acts, no materialistic wants, and most importantly, no attachments. he’s held on to these values in even the most trying of times, but when the senator he’s sworn to protect is injured during a battle, will he be able to manage his feelings?
based off this request! (I'm a little rusty on my star wars writings, but i'm working on it! I hope you love it! <3)
warnings: angst fluff, an overused senator x jedi trope, description of fighting, injury (nothing gory)
-
Blaster fire sounded in nearly every direction Obi-Wan turned. His lightsaber was ignited, washing him in a blue light. Obi-Wan was focused on dodging blaster fire with the blade, keeping himself protected, but he was more worried about the others in the room. Sure, the room was filled with a few other Jedi-he could sense Anakin's presence on the other side of the room, Ahsoka just to his left, both of their lightsabers could be heard deflecting shots of their own. Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure how this fight had started, or why, but he was determined to get everyone he cared about out of it: Anakin and Ahsoka, of course, but also Y/N-the Senator that had been put under his protection for nearly a full cycle. He found her presence in the force immediately, just to the other side of the room of Anakin, her own blaster drawn and firing. He found himself wanting to get to her first, and quickly.
"Senator!" Ahsoka's voice sounded over the noise, obviously directed at Y/N. "Get down!"
Obi-Wan deflected another shot, his sapphire eyes finding Y/N amongst the crowd of enemy and ally alike, her frame ducking down as Ahsoka had ordered. She was seemingly quick enough to dodge the blaster fire shot, but not without getting grazed, hissing as it burned her skin. She let down her guard as she looked at the injury, blaster shots hurling in her direction. Obi-Wan nearly lost all of his internal merits, swinging his blade wildly through blaster fire in an attempt to make his way to her. She spots him running towards her, her own eyebrows furrowing as she aimed and shot her blaster.
"Kenobi! What are you doing?! Get back with Anakin and Ahsoka!"
"You've been shot!"
Y/N's face was stern.
"I wasn't shot, I was grazed, I'm fine! Get these...things! Whatever they are get them out so we can get back! I'm fine, Obi, go!"
She was lying, Obi-Wan knew this immediately. Obi-Wan quickly notes the desperation in her eyes before making his way through the army of droids shooting at different positions in the room. The fight doesn't last long-with the teamwork of Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka paired with Y/N's impressive blaster skills, the group of them were back on a ship within minutes, making their way towards safety. The two latter Jedi sat in the ship's seats, navigating their way off the planet in tandem. Obi-Wan's focus was elsewhere, predominantly on a certain Senator sitting in the back hull of their ship. Wordlessly, Anakin made eye contact with him, nodding his head as if to say 'I've got this covered, go talk to her.'
Obi-Wan wasted no time making his way back to her, searching all over the ship for her figure, not finding her out and about the open space. That's when he heard her-a resounding painful hiss and a choked sob from behind the fresher door. Obi-Wan sighed, she had obviously been injured more gravely than she had let on. He knocked on the door lightly with a bruised fist, listening for her voice to call back to him. Her voice came out almost a whisper, obviously mutilated with pain.
"Y-Yes?"
Obi-Wan felt his heart race, slowly making his chest feel tight.
"It's me, can I come in?"
On the other side of the door, Y/N sat on the floor of the fresher, the layers of her clothing peeled off and tossed aside as she attempted to clean the burns on her arms and torso. The pain was immeasurable, something she hadn't experienced before. She knew she would need help dressing her wounds carefully, she wouldn't be able to apply the bacta spray alone. As she pressed her head against the wall, dizziness taking over, her only wish is that it would have been Ahsoka on the other side of the door. Obi-Wan's looks of disappointment and his calloused hands on her aching skin would provide her with emotional discomfort severe enough to compare to her physical pain. With a ridiculous amount of effort, she reaches up to press the button to open the door, hastily wiping tears from her eyes in the desperate hope that Obi-Wan won't notice.
He takes in her state immediately-her red-rimmed eyes from crying, her face reddening. Obi-Wan would have blushed and turned his eyes away at the sight of her nearly bare torso if it were not for the flaring blaster wound on her stomach. His eyes darted to her arm, where the graze still sat, needing to be cleaned. Obi-Wan's eyes were sympathetic.
"Y/N," his voice is quiet and low, albeit panicked. "You're hurt, you did get shot."
Y/N chuckled softly, then winced at the pain it caused. She looked up at Obi-Wan with teary eyes.
"Patch me up, Obi?" Her voice was shaky but laced with humor, kicking the med kit towards him with her foot. He sat down next to her on the floor, crouched over the med kit to find what he needed to treat her wounds. He gathered them wordlessly, spraying bacta on the open flesh. Her breath hitched, causing his eyes to meet hers to make sure she was okay. Between the stinging pain and the fireworks that erupted in her chest everytime Obi-Wan touched her, she wasn’t sure if she was breathing properly. She nodded and let him continue, watching as he finished with the spray and picked up the packet of bandages.
"This is a change isn't it? You're bandaging me up instead of the other way around." She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
Obi-Wan nodded, lifting an accusing eyebrows as he spoke.
"You terrified me today, I thought you'd been hurt-and you had. You just didn't want me to know. Why?"
Y/N shifts her eyes away from him, biting her lip in an anxious manner before she speaks.
"You-You would've dropped everything to make sure I was okay. And while I appreciate the gesture, Anakin and Ahsoka couldn't have held them off alone. There were too many of them. Someone could have gotten hurt."
"Someone did get hurt, Y/N! You!" Obi-Wan's voice was sharp, but obviously laced with concern. Y/N's eyes go back to her lap, feeling as if he had chastised her like a child. Obi-Wan knew his attachment to the Senator, and his anger as a result of it, were both properties frowned upon by the Jedi Council, but he could not stop it.
"Obi?" Obi-Wan looks up at her as he closes her bandage off, making sure all of her wounds have been covered. Her eyes look at him, full of something he couldn't quite place. "A-Are you angry with me?"
Obi-Wan looks at her, his hand coming gentle-and shakily-to the side of her face. He had never held her like this, it felt, tender, intimate-forbidden. Despite the nagging voice in the back of his head saying this was wrong, he kept his hand on her face as he spoke.
"N-No, I am not angry with you, Y/N/N. Furthest from it, I am-I am angry with myself."
"Why? You have done nothing wrong, I was the one who got hurt in the crossfire, you couldn't have done-"
"I am not angry with myself about the fight, well, that's not the forefront issue. I am fighting feelings within myself that I cannot control, and even though I know it is wrong, my entire soul burns to give into them."
Y/N is rendered speechless. Surely he is not talking about...her? The Jedi Code forbade that sort of attachment. Obi-Wan would not throw all of this, his entire life, Anakin, Ahsoka-
"I love you."
Y/N's heart stops. She had to have been imagining this. She concluded she was-she was dreaming in her apartment on Coruscant, or, more likely, she was having a dying dream, she had been shot and killed during the fight.
“I-If you don’t feel the same way, I understand. I could not live with that burden on my chest, never getting to say that to you-“
Y/N looks up at him sheepishly, almost unsure if she believes him.
“Obi-Wan, are you certain? Your code, the Jedi-“
“I have never been more certain of anything. I knew when I took my oath that upholding it would be…difficult at the least. But I-I never expected to feel the way I do about you. You…Y/N I would give up galaxies for you. You, you mean everything.”
Y/N's heart soared, Obi-Wan's eyes staring at her as if she had placed the stars in the sky herself, as if she were some goddess. She knew every word he said was true, and in her heart, she knew she felt the same way, any oath or rule be damned.
"This will not be easy, Obi, we will have to hide-"
Obi-Wan cut her off, cupping her face with both hands to gaze into her eyes.
"I know, I won't deny it and say everything will go as smoothly as if we were regular citizens. But I cannot live with the regret of not knowing what it is like to be loved by you."
Y/N smiles broadly, her eyes watering as Obi-Wan closes the gap between the two, only pulling away when the need to breathe arose. Y/N chuckled as she rested her head against Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"Who knows, maybe after this war is over, you and I can be-" She tried to think of the most outrageous yet splendidly simple life she could think of. "We can be moisture farmers on Tatooine! No hiding, just, a normal couple."
Obi-Wan's heart ached a little at her optimism, his subconscious telling him no matter the outcome of this war, they'd always end up hiding. He simply smiled and pulled her in again, enjoying the splendor of her warm touch.
-
Back in the cockpit, Anakin and Ahsoka sat in relative silence, watching space pass them by. Some time had passed since Obi-Wan left to check on Y/N. Ahsoka looked over at her Master as she spoke:
"Should I go check on Master Kenobi and Senator Y/N? They've been back there for a while."
Anakin felt his cheeks heat up, already knowing with an almost definite suspicion that Obi-Wan hadn't escaped to the hull of the ship with the pure intentions of aiding the Senator with her wounds. Obi-Wan was a righteous man, a great leader, but he was human, too. He shuddered at what could possibly be happening before responding.
"Snips, I promise you don't want to go back there."
-
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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago
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Search and Rescue
Zayne x gn!Reader
I swear one day I'll write another Zayne fic that has absolutely nothing medical in it at all
Warnings: hurt/comfort, some angst, blizzards/snowstorms, blood, injury, minor character death, self-sacrifice, hypothermia, dialogue heavy, established relationship
Word Count: 3,333 (I did this on purpose >:3)
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
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When the weather reports come in, so too do the calls for you and Zayne. Jenna needs you on duty to help anybody who gets trapped in the oncoming blizzard, and Zayne needs to be at the hospital to help emergency patients and those sheltering from the storm.
It’s hours before the storm is supposed to roll in when you begin getting ready. Zayne helps you find heavy-duty waterproof gloves and don enough layers to keep you moderately warm while you work. You pack Zayne emergency snacks and drinks. He tucks one of the protein bars into your coat pocket.
The tension of the danger that lies ahead is palpable. Rescue missions aren’t unusual for either of you, but keeping up with communication and the unpredictable nature of what could happen will make things very tricky, very fast.
You hold his hand as he drives to the hospital. The Alpha Team will be setting up base there to account for the high influx of patients. The perimeter will reach a few blocks. Whether you stay within it remains to be seen.
It would be hypocritical of him to tell you not to risk your life for the sake of another, more so than his usual hypocrisy when it comes to taking care of himself, so he doesn’t say that. Instead, he tells you, “Don’t be reckless.”
You smile. “I won’t be,” you promise.
Both of you know it’s a lie, whether you intend for it to be or not. You’ve always thrown yourself into danger at the drop of a hat. Now, as a Hunter, the danger keeps growing, and you still charge head-first into it.
He squeezes your hand.
The hospital bustles with preparations. Gurneys are lined along the halls, prepared to be filled once the last of the rooms fill up. Nurses are preparing stations to provide food, drinks, and blankets to anybody who needs it. Doctors offer contingency plans for a million different hypotheticals while dictating what patients should go where.
Jenna and your team help where they can. Nero is setting up a communication station that should make it possible to keep in touch during the storm. Tara is helping to set up Hunter Watches with emergency beacons, just in case anything does happen.
The storm is mere hours away.
Zayne removes his scarf and wraps it around you. You smile up at him reassuringly as he tucks the ends into your jacket. “Stay in contact.”
“I will. Every step, the team will know about it.”
He smiles slightly. “Good.” Not one for PDA, he nods to you, a silent wish of good luck and a quiet plea to come back to him in one piece. You return it, wishing him the same and promising to make it back even if it kills you.
And then he’s with the other doctors, preparing for the worst.
You jog over to your team. Tara beams at you, taking your wrist and setting up the beacon. Jenna debriefs you on what you need to do. Nero double checks that your comms will work.
It feels like no time has passed at all before the trouble begins.
-
Your snowmobile cuts over the snow piled on top of the blacktop. Tire tracks are quickly covered up or blown away. Cars sit parked on the side of the road or haphazardly abandoned right in the middle. The wind bites at your face like sharp teeth made of ice. The scarf around your mouth and nose prevents it from stealing your breath. Goggles protect your eyes, though the snow steals your visibility. Your hands have already started to go numb, but you press on.
The GPS on the snowmobile is glitching and useless with the storm blocking its signal. You have to rely on your knowledge of the area and Jenna’s voice in your ear directing you. There was a distress call sent in from a nearby park. It’s out of the set perimeter, but you’re the closest person available to help.
“The victim has a road flare available to them. Tell me when you’re in the area.”
“I’m almost at the entrance. I’ll go in on foot.”
“Careful. Don’t lose your way. Do you have anything to act as a marker?”
You pull up at the familiar iron gates of the park. You and Zayne come here for picnics when you have days off, so you know it pretty well by now. You dismount and try to find anything to use as a tether or beacon, but you just don’t have the resources. “I don’t.”
Jenna sighs. You really are her most reckless Hunter. “Call out the direction of the flare. Use it to retrace your steps back.”
“Understood.” You pull the scarf tighter around your ears as you head into the park. The snow is powdery beneath your feet, covering up your boots with every step. When you glance behind, your footprints are already gone. “Tell them to light the flare.”
Wind whips around, kicking up snow into your face and sneaking into your many layers. Once you get back, Jenna will send out another Hunter while you warm up and help at base. Just a few more minutes in the cold, and you can rest. The prospect urges you to keep pushing on, even as the damp begins collecting in your socks.
A faint pink glow pierces the haze. The light is diffused so much you almost miss it. “Spotted. North west from the entrance.”
The park feels like a deserted tundra the deeper in you go. You can’t see the iron fence that blocks it in, only the trees scattered around, barren or otherwise full of pine needles. You try to name what kind of tree they are, to help you on your way back.
On the left, a sycamore.
On the right, a pine tree.
Feet feel like miles, dragging on as the cold begins to seep in.
The glow of the flare disappears just ahead of you. Through the snow, you see the vague outline of a person. You pull down your scarf, exposing your mouth to the incoming agony of chapped lips, and cup your hands.
“HEY!” you shout. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
A muffled reply is swept away in the blizzard. With a bolstered resolve, you block the wind with your arm and push onwards. It isn’t much longer before the silhouette begins to clear.
Your watch beeps with a Metaflux warning. You’re frozen to the spot as you watch the horrific sight.
A Wanderer, some sort of knave, hunches over a body. A thin blanket flutters around the corpse, obscuring the figure. Red snow melts around them. The Wanderer’s arm is coated in the same red, seemingly fascinated with the spent flare as it prods it out of the victim’s hand.
“There’s a Wanderer,” you say through the comm. The creature’s head snaps up to you. You fumble for your gun, too tucked away to get to easily. It charges, blade-arms raised.
-
“Can you hear me?” Jenna tries again. It’s all static. Nero frantically tries reconnecting the link, but to no avail. “Have they lit their beacon yet?”
He shakes his head. “No. No, not yet.”
Tara gasps softly, hands covering her mouth as she stares at the holographic map. A red error warns of the lack of a signal, waiting for any sort of input to track. “What are we going to do?”
Jenna taps her finger on her arm.
Zayne helps someone in from outside. The snow gusts after them until the doors are pushed shut, chilling the lobby. He notices the red glow from the corner of his eye. His heart plummets to his stomach.
Trying to keep a level head, he passes the minorly injured person to a nurse, and rushes over. “What happened?” he demands.
Jenna looks at him from the corner of her eye, before fully turning to face him. “You’re close with Y/N, aren’t you?”
He nods. It only confirms his suspicions: something happened to you.
“They were answering a distress call when their line went dead. We believe they were attacked by a Wanderer, though the amount or type is unclear. They haven’t lit their beacon yet-”
“Captain!” Tara cries. “They lit it!”
She turns back to the map. The red error is gone, replaced with a blinking yellow icon. Zayne leans forward, reading the road labels.
“Do you have another snowmobile?” he asks.
“I can’t send a civilian into this storm.”
“I have extensive experience with search and rescue missions like this, Captain. And I know the area well. Along with my Evol, I should be able to retrieve them with little trouble.” He’s already buttoning his coat as he speaks, tucking his glasses away for safekeeping.
Jenna smirks. “You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, will you?”
His ears are tinted pink as he looks away. You really are a bad influence on him.
“Here.” She grabs a bracelet-like device and wraps it around his wrist. “This way we’ll be able to track you through the storm.” Then she hands him a small earpiece. “Keep in touch. There’s another snowmobile outside.”
-
The storm hasn’t gotten any better by the time he reaches the park.
His cheeks are red from the cold, eyes bleary from the wind, and anxiety grips his heart like a vise. He parks his snowmobile beside yours. Snow has thoroughly covered the seat and skis.
He announces his arrival to your team. They lead him in the direction of your distress beacon.
The wind is deafening. The most recent weather reports predict that the storm will die down in a couple hours, but that’s far too long to wait for you to survive through.
Snow collects on his jacket as he blocks his face. The snow on the ground almost reaches his mid-calf, making movement difficult. But he powers through. He must. The thought of you dying out here, slow and alone, chills him to the bone even more than the blizzard, even more than his Evol. He refuses to let that happen.
A plastic wrapper, half-buried in the snow, catches his attention. He kneels down to look at it. The familiar colors and branding of the protein bar he stuffed in your pocket greets him. If this is yours, it means you’re alive enough to eat.
He shoves it into his pocket and keeps going.
“The map says they’re nearby,” your captain says through his earpiece several minutes later. He leans against a sycamore tree for cover. “Directly ahead of you.”
He shoves off and continues trudging forward. A dark shape under the snow 10 feet away catches his attention. His chest is tight as he drops down and begins uncovering it. It feels like his heart has stopped completely when he reveals the back of your coat.
He calls your name, digging his arms underneath your body to lift you and rest you against his chest. He bites the finger of his glove to pull it off. Your skin is ice cold as he feels for a pulse…
It takes nearly a minute before he feels the faint beat of your heart. He assesses you for any injuries. It doesn’t take long to find one.
Across your stomach is a long slash. Your clothes are torn, revealing ice-bitten skin and the jagged edges of your wound. When he looks, he can see a long trail in the snow, already being filled in. He can just imagine the agony you must have been in, trying to crawl through the snow back to safety. Eating your protein bar for a boost of energy, just to keep going.
He slips his glove back on and cradles you tightly to his chest as he stands and heads back the way he came.
“I found them. I’m heading back now.”
He’s back at the sycamore tree when your watch beeps. A glowing ring appears around your wrist, red with warning. He hears the Wanderer’s cry on the other side of the tree.
He quickly kneels down, supporting your body in his lap and cradling you with one arm, while the other calls ice to his hand. His face is set, eyes sharp. The second the creature rounds the trunk, he’s hurling ice at its chest.
Memories of fighting Wanderers in the mountains, of losing his friend, burn in his chest. Zayne fights with unyielding determination to get you home.
-
It’s warm. Almost too warm. Memories of playing outside in the snow as a child, only to come in and have burning sensations on your fingers and face, drift lazily through your mind.
There’s a weight on top of you. It’s too hot.
Lifting your arms feels like a monumental task. Trying to shove the blanket off is even harder. You’re panting before you’ve even uncovered your chest.
It’s suddenly pulled off of you, uncovering your legs from the burdensome heat. The cooler air of the room sends goosebumps all down your arms.
“Don’t move too much.”
Your head lolls to the side. Your eyelids are impossibly heavy. You’re so tired. You try to speak, but it comes out as garbled nonsense.
“Shh. You’re on a lot of pain medication right now.” Something soft touches your forehead. You stop fighting to keep your eyes open. “Get some sleep.”
You dream of building snowmen and drinking hot cocoa.
The next time you come to, your whole body aches. Your muscles scream in agony with every little twitch. The worst of it comes from your belly; a persistent sting that brings immediate tears to your eyes. You gasp and whimper as your hand tries searching for the source of your pain.
Something grabs your hand and pulls it away, holding it tenderly to the side. “Does it hurt?”
You whimper again, nodding pathetically.
“Okay. It’s okay. Give it a minute. It’ll go away soon.”
You try forcing your eyes open again. They don’t feel as heavy now. You can start to make out Zayne’s dark hair, the focus on his face as he makes adjustments to the equipment you’re hooked up to.
Slowly, the pain ebbs into a dull ache. He turns his attention back to you.
“Feel better?”
You nod again slightly. He smiles softly, but it looks like he’s struggling with it.
“Mhnn, what happened?” you slur.
He squeezes your hand gently, running his thumb over the bandages wrapped around your fingers.. The skin underneath is dry and cracked from the cold and the self-destruction of your crawling, but your blood runs warm underneath. “What do you remember?” he asks instead.
You blink, frowning with concentration. You remember the blizzard. Getting ready with Zayne in the morning. Meeting your team in the hospital. A dozen or so back-and-forth rescues. And then…
The barren trees appear in your mind through a haze. Dark red against melting snow. Fabric flapping wildly in the wind.
“The Wanderer…”
Zayne nods slowly. “Your comms went down. Your team couldn’t contact you at all.”
“Yeah, it…” You subconsciously reach for your ear, as though trying to find the earpiece. “It knocked it off when I dodged away.”
“And then you set off your beacon.”
A timid look comes over your face. He sighs, already knowing what you’re going to say. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I fought it off first. My gun was hard to reach, but-”
“So you waited until it was dead to alert anybody else to your struggle, even though it could have killed you before you ever got the chance.” It wasn’t a question. You can’t meet his eyes. Even after promising him to be careful, to stay in contact with your team at all times, you still put your life in unnecessary danger.
“‘M sorry…”
He sighs.
You look at him again, studying his attire. It’s buttoned all the way to his neck. His tie is crooked. “What happened after that?”
“Your captain gave me what I needed to rescue you myself,” he starts. You cut him off with wide eyes.
“She let you go on your own?”
He grins wryly, but the pinch in his brow shows just how strained it is. “You’re a terrible influence on me, you know that?”
You grin, too. You nod for him to continue.
A darkness covers his eyes. Bright hazel dimmed by the emotions that were still warring within him, battling with the relief that you’re still alive. “I found you buried in the snow,” he murmurs. “You were barely alive. The Wanderer didn’t hit anything vital, but you’d still lost a lot of blood. Paired with the frostbite… It’s a miracle you still have your extremities.
“I rushed you back to the hospital. We immediately began treating you with a heated IV. Once you were stable, we started you on a blood transfusion and treated your wound.” He nods to your stomach where your pain still lingers.
You look down at yourself. The blanket is still pulled off of you, folded off to the side. The snap-front gown they put you in allows for easy access to your stomach. You can see the bandages through a couple of the snaps.
Your eyes slowly trail to your connected hands. Your fingers are individually wrapped. His warmth seeps in through the bandages. But there’s something else…
You carefully pry your hand from his so yours is on top. He lets you, watching your movements for any discomfort. Your fingers glide over the faded scars of his hand, up to his sleeve. He pulls away when you push back the cuff, but you’ve already seen the glimpse of a bandage wrapped around his arm.
“You’re hurt, too.”
“It’s superficial.”
“Since when has that mattered to you?” you tease.
He glares at you, but there’s hardly any venom behind it. He looks away, readjusting his sleeve all the while. “More Wanderers appeared after I found you. A couple scratches here and there, but nothing serious,” he dismisses.
You seek out his hand again. There’s a quirk to your lip, one that belies the mischief in your actions, yet he gives himself to you anyway. You trace up the same pattern as before and struggle to undo the button of his sleeve. He undoes it for you. You’re unrelenting at the best of times; it’s easier not to fight it. He even lifts it up slightly, fully revealing the wrap around his wrist and forearm. The soft gauze padding can be seen through the thin material, outlining where the injury really is.
“Some couple we are,” you murmur. “We get hurt and we deny it with our every breath.”
He huffs a laugh. “Two self-sacrificing fools.”
You hum with a nod, continuing to trace over his injury. The mirth begins to drain from your face. “I’m sorry… For not calling for help sooner. For letting you get dragged into the mess I created.”
“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit, my love,” he whispers reassuringly as he slides his fingers up your wrist until he’s holding your hand again. He brings your bandaged knuckles to his lips. You watch the way his lips curve against your minor wounds. “I will always come to your aid, by my own choice, whether you created the ‘mess’ or not.”
“I love you,” you whisper in return.
He kisses your knuckles again. “The feeling is mutual.”
You pinch his chin playfully. He chuckles. “Get some rest. I’ll get something for you to eat.”
He lowers your hand back to the bed and stands up. His fingers work nimbly to button his sleeve and fix it once more. You catch his hand before he can turn to leave. He looks down at you attentively. You could ask him for the stars and he’d pluck every single one from the sky to give to you. You smile sweetly up at him, that familiar glint in your eye giving your tricks away.
“Does the hospital serve hot chocolate?”
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover
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willowwithaheart · 1 month ago
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|| Payback!♡︎
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Part two to this post!
|| pairing; Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader
|| summary; after Isagi’s match against the U-20, social media had been blowing up with the possibility of Isagi having a partner. Seeing this, Isagi meets up with you to talk it out…
|| cw; FLUFF! fluff fluff fluff! Absolutely tooth-rotting! No warnings aside from some second hand embarrassment lol!
|| wc; 1.5k
|| note; since you guys liked the last one so much, here!! This is technically a part two, but can be read as a standalone fic. Enjoy <3
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The distorted audio of a crowd roaring was played from your phone's speakers over and over again as your eyes stayed glued to the bright screen.
It was midnight. You couldn't sleep—not after what happened earlier in the day. It was still fresh in your mind…
…and the numerous recordings online certainly didn’t help.
First, it was only one that popped up on your feed, when your face still felt hot and you were still running your fingers along your lips in disbelief. Then you saw a close up video of Isagi running up to you in the stands and capturing your lips in his, after he mutters something inaudible.
“I came back to you, [Name],” the words he said to you before pecking your lips gently—a complete 180 from his persona on the field. It was almost unbelievable, how gentle he was despite scoring the winning goal against Japan's U-20, he didn’t let his excitement get the best of him. Or maybe he did—but did you really mind?
The second video came up just after you got home, and you almost dropped your keys while fumbling to unlock the door, just because of how flustered it made you that people actually saw that.
Then the third video came up. And the fourth. And the fifth. And the—holy shit, why was it still going!? It was well past sundown, you could feel your eyelids drooping after the excitement-filled day you’d just had, and yet, your heart was still hammering in your chest.
But despite the excitement, you also felt a familiar pit settle in the bottom of your stomach. You still hadn’t heard from Isagi, not after he was pried away from you in order to participate in an interview—
“Who was that, Isagi-kun?” The reporter asked, a girlish grin on her face as she giggled out her question. The camera panned to your general direction in the crowd, where you were still sat in silent disbelief.
“My partner,” Isagi replied, a goofy grin tugging at his lips—the ones he’d just kissed you with. His face was still flushed, and his breathing was still ragged, and he was sure his friends would give him hell for this later on—but right now? He didn’t care. He was on cloud nine.
“Partner?” She inquired, urging Isagi to continue. You couldn’t see her face, since the camera was trained on Isagi, but you could’ve sworn she’d have an eyebrow raised.
“I love them more than anything,” Isagi puffed out his chest, looking awfully proud, despite the fact that the two of you technically weren’t dating yet. But how could he not? He was so caught up in the moment he didn’t even think to ask you first…
—said interview was already saved in your camera roll, and you’d probably cherish it for the rest of your life.
A notification made your phone vibrate in your hand, and you only saw Isagi’s contact name for a split second before immediately opening it.
‘Can we meet up?’ Read a message from Isagi, one that somehow made your stomach drop and heart pound at the same time. You were quick to reply.
‘Of course. Right now?’
‘Sure. Park?’
That was all it took to send you racing out the door, almost tripping as you struggled to slip your shoes on.
The crisp, cool night air was like a slap to the face when you finally made it outside. You decided to just ignore it, instead focusing on speed-walking to the nearby park down the road—the one you and Isagi used to spend hours playing at when you were kids. It seemed awfully fitting.
Your breath fanned out in front of you, and the cold nipped at your exposed skin, but you still felt strangely warm. And very nervous, but still warm.
You couldn't afford to let your thoughts consume you, though you still had your fair share of ‘what ifs’ swimming around your mind. You wouldn't let yourself get freaked out before you saw Isagi.
The park was a small one–but it felt like home. A familiar, less intimidating warmth spread throughout your chest as soon as you stepped foot on the dirt ground.
“[Name]!!”
You turned around, a little startled at the sudden voice calling out to you. It reminded you a little of the first time you met, only this time a ball wasn't being flung at your face.
“Yoichi,” you greeted warmly, watching as the raven-haired male stopped to rest, panting slightly. “Did you run the whole way here?”
“Yeah,” he swallowed, sweat trickling down his forehead. “I didn't want you to wait.”
You opened your mouth to say something about him not having to worry, but suddenly, he clasped his hands in front of him, refusing to look you in the eye.
“I am so sorry! Please forgive me, [Name]!” He apologised, looking oh-so-ashamed despite being the Yoichi Isagi who somehow managed to capture the hearts of many during a single game. Including yours.
“...about what?” You questioned, wracking your brain for something he could possibly have to apologise for. You only turned up with blanks.
“Wh- I kissed you in front of a live audience! I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask for consent, or, or–” he stammered, holding his head in his hands. Ah. This was the Isagi you knew.
“Oh, that?” You replied flippantly, watching as his expression contorted under the little light the street lights provided. Still, despite the fact that you could barely see him, you thought he looked remarkably pretty. “I didn’t mind. Not one bit.”
You could’ve sworn you could see the faintest blush on his face as he turned away from you. With a tilt of the head, you asked:
“Sleepover?”
“Yeah, well, I know you like My Neighbour Totoro so why not try Spirited Away too? They have the same vibes. Kind of,” you muttered, fiddling with the tv remote as Isagi sprawled out on your bed next to you.
“…are you sure you even want to watch a movie?” He spoke up, shuffling a little in your peripheral vision. For a moment, you felt too nervous to look at him.
“What else is there to do?”
“Talk.”
The certainty in his voice made you press your lips into a thin line. You knew he’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do—so if you told him you didn’t want to talk, you were sure he’d drop it.
But in all honesty, you really did want to talk with him. You wanted to have all kinds of conversations—happy, sad, nostalgic, exciting, dull—all until the end of your life.
It wasn’t too early to start now, was it?
“Okay,” you agreed, setting the tv remote down and turning to look at him. “About what?”
Isagi smiled at you—a gentle, warm smile that brought attention to the shine in his eyes he only seemed to have around you. And gosh, you thought, how didn’t you notice sooner?
“Us. Are we…a thing?” He pried, leaning forward a little bit, and you managed to catch the faintest glimpse of hope swirling around in those pretty blue eyes of his. How you hadn’t figured out you loved him sooner, you had no idea.
“Do you want to be?” You replied, leaning forward as well. Your noses were almost touching, and you found yourself smiling at the stupidly flustered look on his face.
The two of you stayed silent, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. You could see that Isagi was mulling it over, and by the steadily growing flush on his face, he liked what he was imagining.
You liked it, too. The idea of being with him. Isagi had always been exceptionally kind and passionate, and he always pushed you to do the things you’d always wanted to do. To be around someone like that your whole life? You could only imagine how wonderful it would be.
“Yes,” Isagi blurted out, looking just as surprised as you did as you were brought out of your daydream. You smiled at him, ignoring how warm your face felt.
“Yeah, yeah, I—I’ve loved you since we were kids. So…it’d really, really make me really happy if, um…” he stammered, and suddenly, he didn’t seem as intimidating as his opponents on the field made him out to be.
“Please let me be your boyfriend.”
Was it just you, or was it hot in here? Seriously, you had never felt so light. And warm. Were you sweating? You could’ve sworn you were sweating. But in the moment, Isagi just looked at you hopefully. You knew exactly what you wanted to say since the moment he first kissed you.
“Of course,” you answered, and after a few seconds of contemplation, placed a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose.
Isagi blinked, momentarily forgetting his initial joy at your words. “What was that?”
You only smiled. “Payback.”
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|| note; ngl I did NOT know what to write for this. I also don't know how to write kiss scenes so this is all you guys are getting...
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|| disclaimer; please don't repost, copy or translate my work without credit.
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artstatues · 4 months ago
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sweet boy. - a.w‎‎‎‎‎
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wc : 339
pairings : aaron warner x fem!reader
synopsis : unfortunately, aaron's been extremely busy the past couple of days.
warnings : workaholic aaron, nothing much tho.
a/n : short drabble. writing mood today but had 0 ideas for the last hour or two, finally came up with this lmao
taglist : @never-enough-novels @reminiscentreader @kozumesphone @lxvebelle @shuhuaspookie
@off-to-the-r4ces @starrynightsxo @flowers-for-em
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you sat on the office couch, eyes directed at your too focused boyfriend rather than the book in your hands. you loved aaron, you really did, but he’s been awfully busy for the last few days, too busy to give you any attention. only short good mornings, or good nights. he’d be gone when you woke up, and absent when you went to bed. you were sure he’s absolutely exhausted. the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent day by day. only did he look up from his laptop screen, or his papers say “oh, hello love,” or something like that.
you understood him. you knew he wanted to rave about how much he loved you, you knew how he wanted to lay in your lap and watched as you went on about your day. yet, he couldn’t. he has a full time job as the supreme commander. oh how you missed your aaron.
every time you’ve called him over to take a break, he’d simply say “5 more minutes love, i promise.” but did he fulfill those promises? no. just sweet nothings. 
“love?” he called.
“yes aaron?” you smiled down at him, staring at you from your lap.
“how was your day?” he inquired, causing you to put your book down.
“so-.....”
“aaron?” you tried, looking up from your book, some form of despair in your eyes, and your tone. “yes, love?” he looked up from his screen. you’re sure that was the first time he made full eye contact with you in the last 7 hours. you've been on this couch for 3. it’s 10.36 pm. “c’mere?” you patted your lap. his eyes looked dead, his eye bags only slightly covered by the frame of his working glasses. he unexpectedly got up and walked closer towards you. soon enough, he found peace on your lap, laying down sideways, staring at god knows what. you gently ran your hands into his hair, playing with a few strands. “oh my sweet boy.” you hummed.
how you’ve missed this…
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ahhnini · 3 months ago
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kaleidoscope - rafe cameron x reader
warnings - angst, angst, angst
synopsis - rafe and reader were inseparable. that is, until reader confessed her feelings. years pass, the two are no contact. but as it turns out, reader had been talking to him all this time, on a platform she never expected.
rafe cameron x tumblr!user reader
wc - 1.4k
a/n - i apologize if the formatting is a bit messy, i tried to have both of their perspectives.
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your heart shattered as rafe ignored your words. you’d messed up everything. what you thought were signs of interest had just been signs of him being friendly to you. that’s all you were to rafe. a friend. so here you were, in the school hallway, sitting down on the floor, eating lunch all by yourself. you’d muffle your sniffles, trying to ignore the stares from everyone passing by, texting your mom to pick you up early from school. as soon as you’d gotten home, you immediately ran to your desktop, ranting about how “boys are stupid” and how you hate being melodramatic to your tumblr blog.
you scoff as you see rafe’s arm around sofia. it’s funny, knowing she’ll be dumped the next month. having just celebrated your sweet sixteenth, you were now old enough to have an island club membership of your own, and that’s where you’d been spending most of your time these days. you stretch your arms outwards, before opening your laptop, logging into the tumblr website. you had gained a pretty sufficient following, and you can’t help but smile at all the people interacting with your blog. huh, that’s weird. there’s someone new trying to message you. it was from one of your longtime followers. opening it, you smile at the kind message.
Hey, I’ve been following your blog since you started, and I’ve been here every step of the way. It’s been so nice seeing you grow.
little did you know that this message would create a long lasting friendship.
another night, another party at the cameron house. you weren’t invited, of course. rafe was throwing it. but to be honest, even if sarah was gonna host, you weren’t gonna show up either way. seeing the strobe lights dance around the estate, you close your curtains, making your way to your bed. you bring your laptop close to you, opening it up to your last tab open, tumblr.
going right to your direct messages, you click your most recent one, a friend you’ve made who liked to be called R. he still hasn’t replied to your message. sighing, you exit out of the chat and check on your page, making a quick new post. you browse the site for a couple more minutes, liking and reblogging, before opening up another tab for netflix, falling asleep to a random show.
the morning sun wakes you up. immediately searching for your phone, you check your notifications, smiling when you see R’s username pop up.
Hey, was busy last night, i’ll make it up to you :)
your smile widens, and you quickly reply,
dw about it!! <3
across the street, rafe’s phone lights up.
you’re awake, he’s hungover. he let out a soft groan, squinting his eyes.
you send another message,
gonna get ready for the day!! + one attachment
even though his head was pounding, he sat up, opening the selfie you sent him.
after that first message all those years back, you and R instantly clicked. even if it had been through the screen, the connection felt…magical. now that you were both nineteen, you’ve realized that you’d grown up with him.
putting your shades on, you lay on the couch of your yacht. all of your friends were busy; you didn’t have anything else better to do. you close your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun be your blanket.
you feel his arms wrap around you, you see his smile, bright and inviting. he kisses your lips, whispering your name. your eyebrows furrow, something was wrong. you push him away, suddenly becoming self aware. rafe didn’t love you, this was a dream. why were you dreaming about him?
you wake up, wiping a tear that fell down your eye. shaking your head, you go to the mini fridge, sipping on a cup of water. you hate to admit it, but you’d been thinking of rafe more often than you’d like. he probably hasn’t thought about you in years; probably forgetting that you existed.
after spending a couple more hours in the sun, you decided to go to the wreck for a quick snack. you ordered your favorite; a chicken sandwich with a chocolate milkshake. sitting down in one of the booths, you open your phone, seeing that R replied to you.
Beautiful, as always.
your cheeks grow slightly red at the compliment. he’d do this often, texting you compliments whenever you’d sent a photo of yourself. it started after you’d posted a rant to your dash about your low self esteem, R doing anything he could to bring your spirits up, even if it had been over the internet. then, when you self-reflected and started growing your confidence, you’d started sending pictures of yourself to him. he’d never send you anything back, though. which bummed you out at first, but you respected his decision.
you two had been planning to meet up for a while, but R was always dismissive with you when you’d ask. a part of you was terrified that you’d been talking to a creepy middle aged man all this time, but those thoughts dwindled away as you got to know each other more. sipping on your milkshake, you decide to follow your impulses, wanting to meet up with the mysterious R as soon as possible.
ik this is kind of random but when do u wanna meet up? we both live in nc so we could meet up in a city somewhere?
shit. rafe was not expecting that. his palms began to sweat, quick fingers moving across his phone screen.
It’s too soon, don’t you think?
no, not at all! we’ve been planning this for months now, all we need is a city and date.
rafe took a deep breath, feeling his headache get worse. deciding to bite the bullet, he replies,
Okay, what about saturday? We could meet up in Raleigh.
sounds good! what time?
Around 11:00 AM work for you?
perfect, so excited to see you, R! <3
fuck. shit. he stood up from the stool he’d been sitting on, running his hands along his head. his breathing quickened as he paced along the kitchen, wondering how he was supposed to face you again.
saturday rolls around quicker than you expected. you were on a ferry, headed to the mainland to meet R. you carried pepper spray just in case he did turn out to be a creepy middle aged man, can never be too safe.
he can see you, sitting down on one of the ferry benches, fidgeting on your phone. he felt like a creep, watching you. god, he wanted to jump into the ocean right now.
after confirming the plans, you both agreed to meet up in a popular restaurant in the middle of town. you’d gotten there a little early, reserving a table for the both of you. you tapped your foot anxiously, looking at all the decor. you were so nervous that you didn’t even realize you heard the chair across from you move, looking up when you heard a deep voice say, “hey, y/n.”
what the fuck.
“r-rafe?!” you whisper-shout, suddenly standing up from your chair. his eyes widen, everyone around the restaurant looking at you two. suddenly becoming embarrassed, you sink down into your seat, looking at your former friend, in shock. “you need to explain. now.” he nods, licking his lips before speaking, “it was stupid. after you confessed freshman year I’d been going through some shit with my dad and I couldn’t handle a relationship yet. so I ghosted you. and everyone else after that,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I should’ve told you right away. you were my best friend, y/n. after everything got sorted out I wanted to talk to you again, but it was too soon. I remembered you made me follow your tumblr account back in middle school, so I looked through your profile, and I felt so bad, knowing I hurt you. it haunted me for years,” he lets out a bitter chuckle, “it took balls for me to message you on there, I was so scared you were gonna find out and block me. but you didn’t. so I kept talking to you…and now we’re here.” he finishes his monologue, playing with the napkin on the table.
“rafe…I don’t know what to say…” you respond, throat becoming dry. he grabs your hands from across the table, gently squeezing them. “you don’t have to say anything. if you don’t wanna continue what we have, that’s fine. at least now you know the truth.”
“so, you were the one giving me those compliments?”
“of course.”
“and you weren’t bullshitting this whole time?”
“why would I? i’ve always found you stunning.”
your ears grow red, pulling your hands away from his.
“I…I need some time. this is all too much,” you stand up again, rushing out of the restaurant, rafe’s calls falling deaf to your ears.
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thank you to my irl @vannbao for helping me with this (and feeding into my delusions)!!
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taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @maybankslover @dreamygirli3
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sunshine-daisies-library · 4 months ago
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Speak Now | Steve Harrington x Fem!Ex!Reader
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Summary: You were called in as a last ditch effort by Dustin to convince Steve to back out of an arranged marriage with Kimberly Astor, the heiress of a multi-million dollar company. Only issue is that you were uninvited to the affair, but the kids you used to babysit have another plan. 
Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, drug abuse, exes to lovers
Based on Taylor Swift's song, Speak Now <3
You shouldn’t be here. You’re being serious, you really shouldn’t be here. But when Dustin called you and pleaded for you to drive over two hours from Chicago to your hometown, you knew this wasn’t a call to ignore. You weren’t the type of girl to barge in on a wedding.
But then again, you knew Steve wasn’t the type of boy to marry the wrong girl. 
“Thank God you came,” Dustin runs over to throw his arms around you. He lets out a sigh of relief as he tosses his entire weight onto you. You stagger back as you try to keep him standing, but it had been far too long since you had seen the boy, he had grown faster than you expected. Three years was enough for him to shoot up and tower over you. No longer was he the short curly haired boy you watched over on weekdays to get some pocket money to go on dates with Steve. Now, he’s nearly an adult, packing his things for college and using his free time to call his favorite people: you and Steve. Separately, of course, because you two were no longer a thing. 
“You called,” you respond, pulling away. “Besides, it gives me a reason to see you munchkins again.” 
“I think we hardly classify as munchkins now,” you hear a voice from behind you. In comes the gang of kids you used to spend nearly every waking day with, all visibly older and dressed fancily for the occasion. Mike, the voice you recognized, leads the group and comes to hug you first. 
You can barely reach up to hug him. “Mike!” you exclaim. “Jesus, you’ve gotten so big.” 
Max steps forward and gives you a small smile, never the one for physical contact after everything that happened. Her glasses frame her face beautifully, and her matured features cause your eyes to water. “Enough of the waterworks,” she tells you firmly. Max cocks her head at the bride’s family, all dressed in tacky pastels. The mom swats at her youngest son’s hand as she pushes his blond hair back. “We have more shit to deal with now.” 
“Is she that bad?” you ask your friends. 
Will grimaces along with Lucas and his far from little sister. Erica was never one for hiding her emotions on her face, and that habit seemed to have stuck as she aged. “She was just yelling at some bridesmaid,” Will replies with a sigh. “Pretty sure it was Steve’s cousin, too.” 
“She looks like a pastry,” Eleven deadpans, causing Max to elbow her. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh at Eleven’s directness. Things never change, you suppose. “Where is he?” 
Everyone knew who he was. It was the very reason why you drove all this way. 
“No clue,” Dustin answers, hands shoved in his pockets. “Kimberly has been bothering him about everything needing to be perfect,” Dustin’s voice went high-pitched and unbearable to imitate the rich heiress Steve called his fiance. 
You never knew why Steve got himself into this. Pleasing his parents was the last thing he ever wanted to do while you were dating. What happened in the three years of leaving Hawkins that made him switch up? This wasn’t the Steve you knew, and you knew from the moment Dustin called that you had to stop Steve from ruining his life. 
Music starts to play, ringing through the halls of the gothic church you were standing in the middle of. The wedding was starting soon. The bells and gonging sound eerily similar to the sounds of the grandfather clock Max vividly described when she was in the hospital after Vecna’s attack. It sends shivers down your spine but you quickly regain your composure. 
“We gotta go,” Max informs you. “Steve made sure to get us seats in the front. You’ll be okay from here?” 
“Yeah,” you reassure them. “I’ll be fine, promise.” Parting ways, you spend the last few minutes looking around for that familiar mop of brown hair. In the distance, you see him and he instantly takes your breath away. 
He’s wearing a pressed suit that shows no sign of wrinkles or age. It’s definitely new and tailored for him, no doubt thanks to his mother. In his suit pocket is a neatly folded white pocket square, and beside it was a freshly picked rose pinned to his breast. He looks like a daydream, but deep down, you knew he was living his worst nightmare. 
This was all wrong. He hates stiff suits and having his hair slicked back. He never wanted a fancy and lavish affair for a wedding; he always wanted it to be intimate and surrounded by his loved ones and definitely not his snotty relatives. And Steve hated roses. It reminded him too much of his parents’ materialistic relationship. The one where his mom thought it was perfectly suitable to drink her problems away with wine and the occasional scotch. It was also the one where his dad would just shower his mom with designer purses and roses whenever she found out he was sleeping with yet another unreasonably young secretary. 
A pained expression rests on Steve’s face as he trails behind the minister. You call out to him through the sea of people. After the third call, he finally perks his ears at your voice and turns to face your direction. A look of surprise replaces his sullen expression. It’s been three years since he’s last seen you. Three years since you broke things off to move to Chicago. How did you end up back in Hawkins? 
‘What are you doing here?’ he mouths to you.
You’re weaving through the crowd, trying to get to him. ‘Saving you,’ you mouth back. 
His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but before he can do anything about it, he’s nudged forward by a groomsman. Reluctantly, Steve moves forward and walks down the aisle. 
You don’t lose sight of Steve, hiding expertly behind the curtains as the procession continues. He walks down the aisle to the organ’s music that reminds you of a death march. You closely watch the rest of the members of the family follow behind Steve. You were so concentrated on the procession that you didn’t realize Will’s older brother standing behind you. 
“L/N what are you doing here?” Jonathan whispers. 
You jump in shock, gripping the dusty white curtain close to your chest. “Jonathan!” you whisper-shouted. “Nearly scared the shit out of me. I’m here to stop a wedding.” 
“Where do you need me?” Jonathan instantly asks. You cock an eyebrow at his eagerness. “Listen, I’ve met Kimberly. Steve and I were never best buds, but I’m not going to let him toss his life away for a nasty person like her. Especially not when you’ve loved him all this time.” 
You open your mouth to correct him but Jonathan is quick to cut you off. “Cut the bull, N/N, we both know the truth. You never stopped loving Harrington, but what I can’t wrap my head around is why you left him?” 
“I wasn’t going to string Steve along for a hopeless long distance relationship,” you shoot back. “I had to move to Chicago for my job. I knew Steve would come with me no matter what I said, so I cut things off.” 
Jonathan presses his lips together in a thin line but doesn’t say anything else about the topic. “Why are you hiding, anyway?” 
You roll your eyes, peering over the curtains to see the flower girls tossing petals along the pathway. “Seems like I was uninvited by his lovely bride-to-be.” 
The music instantly changes as Kimberly walks out in her enormous dress. Her face exudes class and elegance as she takes calculated steps down the aisle. “Fucking pageant queen,” Jonathan mutters under his breath. 
“She looks beautiful,” you compliment shortly. That’s all you’re willing to say about her. From a distance Steve is looking through his bride, eyes only on you. He wishes the one walking down this aisle was you. 
The rest of the ceremony is a blur to you. Words go in your ear and out the other, and you almost didn’t realize the most important part of the wedding has started. 
“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the minister read aloud from his book. “speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Taking a deep breath, you emerge from the curtains and raise your hand. 
Horrified looks from everyone in the room but you only look at Steve. Relief floods his face and his shoulders finally relax. 
“You don’t want this,” you speak directly to him. “I know you, Steve. You don’t want any of this.” 
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Kimberly cuts in, facing the minister. “Steven wants this. Right, Steven?” 
“For the last time, my name is Steve,” Steve huffs at his now-ex-fiance. “And I don’t want this. I just want you.” His chocolate brown eyes peer over at you, and a small smile reaches his lips. “I’ll meet you out the back door.” 
Following his instructions, you run out of the church, dodging angry relatives and their shouts. Keys in hand, you hop into your car and start the engine. Pulling out of your spot, you drive down to the back door where Steve is. You quickly unlock the door as Steve practically jumps in, avoiding the yells of the bridesmaids and dodging the bouquets tossed at his head.
Steve lets out an exhausted huff as he loosens his tie. A giddy smile is on his face as he looks back at you. You can’t help but share a similar expression as you step on the gas. 
“Thanks for saving my neck out there,” Steve tells you gratefully. 
“Anything for you,” you respond, glancing over at him. He still looks the same as ever, if not more handsome. Your heart honestly never stopped beating for him. “If I didn’t make it clear earlier,” you clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m still in love with you, Harrington.” 
Silence follows and you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. Soon enough, your worries are calmed when Steve takes one of your hands off the wheel and covers it with his. 
“I got that, dummy,” he chuckles softly. 
You sigh in relief, laughing quietly along, too. “So, where to?” 
You couldn’t get the glint in his eye off your mind when he smiles at you.
“Where’s the nearest chapel?” 
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wyattjohnston · 4 months ago
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turbulent - nico hischier
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summary: a bumpy flight forces two people closer together.
word count: 2,790
note: this is for @dunnerlars as part of the summer fic exchange 2k24. i really hope you like it ash <3 thanks to @offside-the-lines for putting up with me going through the five stages of grief whilst trying to pull this together!
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There was an element of strangeness to working on an NHL charter flight; most perplexing, even still, to Bonnie was the sudden way they all stripped out of their suits the second the seatbelt sign was turned off. She understood that sitting in a suit for six hours wasn’t comfortable, and also understood that the toilets were not big enough for giant men to reasonably change—she chose to spend time in the galley while they were doing it, because it was impossible not to stare inappropriately if she was walking the aisles.
“I thought you were joking,” Alice said, returning to the galley wide eyed and keeping the curtain closed with a hard fist against the cabin wall.
Bonnie hummed without turning around. “Everyone does.”
Short of holding her coworkers hostage in the galley, there wasn’t much Bonnie could do beyond warning them about what they’d see if they wandered the plane before she told them to. So, without fail, they all got caught in the aisles as some twenty odd men stood in unison and started to remove their pants.
“I know athletes have no shame in locker rooms,” Alice whispered aggressively, still with a firm grip on the curtain, “but this is a plane. There are people out there! Journalists!”
“This happens every flight,” Bonnie stressed. “Everyone is used to it. Some of the journalists might even be changing, too.”
Alice’s eyes widened, so big that Bonnie had a mild concern that they would come out of her head, and they only returned to normal when the captain’s voice came over the speaker.
“Hello everyone, sorry to interrupt your flight so early on, we have just been made aware of some unexpected weather on route to Los Angeles. We’ll do our best to make any necessary deviations to avoid patches of turbulence without adding too much extra time to the flight. For your own safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened and only move around the cabin if necessary. Thank you.”
Bonnie sighed, her chin dropping to her chest, at the thought of yet another turbulent flight. Alice groaned. It had been an uncommonly turbulent couple of weeks across both of their flights, even in completely different areas and directions—it was the first thing they’d spoken about when they met before getting on the plane.
“I can’t unsee any of that,” Alice said, finally letting go of the curtain.
“I mean, yeah, but there are worse things to have burnt into your brain.”
Alice readily agreed, even took a moment to subtly peak back into the cabin.
Bonnie still vividly remembered the first time she’d witnessed it. She would never forget the eye contact she’d made with the team’s captain before her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m just here to see Bonnie.”
Said chest and said tattoo blazed in Bonnie’s mind, and then she made eye contact with the team’s captain and sighed softly.
“Hi, Nico,” she greeted. “My captain said you were meant to remain seated with your seatbelt on.”
He smiled knowingly, “Good luck with that.”
Alice disappeared back into the cabin when someone pressed the call button and Nico moved out of her way with a practiced ease, even as Bonnie began to organise the food trolley for the first pass through.
“I just wanted to come check on you; you weren’t on the last few flights.”
“Just a sinus infection,” she said, as if it hadn’t written her off for a week and a half. “Didn’t want my eardrums to explode, you know?”
“You’re okay?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her forearm. Concern radiated off him.
Bonnie covered his hand with her own, smiling softly and saying reassuringly, “I’m all better.”
Nico stayed while Bonnie finished filling the trolley. The flights were the three after the All-Star Break, so he had plenty of stories to tell to keep her occupied. The Swiss boys had headed to Mexico, of which she was jealous. It hadn’t been too cold in Jersey, but the need for sun had been growing and growing since Christmas, and the longing had only gotten more intense after being cooped up in her own apartment.
“Have you been?” Nico asked.
“No,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head. “One of my college friends had a vacation home in Fort Lauderdale so we did Spring Br—shit.”
The trolley rattled, a few trays coming half out of their places, and Bonnie watched helplessly as the last knife and fork fell off the counter.
“What the fuck is going on today?” Nico asked, causing Bonnie's eyes to snap up. He had a hand on each of the high cabinets either side of the galley.
“You should go back to your seat,” Bonnie said, picking up the lost cutlery and dropping into what would become the dirty dishes container. “I’ll be out in a second. Put your seatbelt on.”
Nico nodded, “Yes ma’am.”
Bonnie was friendly with all the players, staff and media on the flight. Most of them were familiar faces, especially halfway through the season, but anybody she didn’t know was introduced to her with a startling amount of enthusiasm from whichever player had taken it upon themselves to do so—normally it was Luke, being egged on by Nate. She always made sure they had the same energy for whoever had been assigned to work with her, whether or not they had ever met before. Alice looked delighted by the attention; Bonnie hoped it was just the energy being contagious.
If they lingered a little longer next to Nico, who politely ignored Alice’s doe eyes, and Jesper, so that they could get his round up of the All-Star Game, that was purely coincidental.
Back in the galley, Alice was poised to ask many questions. Bonnie could feel the curiosity bursting from her, it only becoming more obvious with every passing minute of silence. Every now and then Bonnie was assigned to work with someone who couldn’t quite handle it. Bonnie would never put in any complaints herself for some lowkey fangirling, but she had had a few coworkers who had been asked to never work a team’s charter flight again.
“Say whatever it is you want to say,” Bonnie said after Alice’s eagerness became too much to bear.
“Did they ask for you to be on all their flights?”
“Uh…” Bonnie hesitated, rolling the question around in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that “I don’t think so? I think it’s just easier to have someone who knows all the ins and outs. I didn’t think they could request people.”
“The Rangers do it,” Alice said casually, as she pulled out a new tray of water bottles from the fridge, “but I think that’s because she’s sleeping with one of the players.”
Bonnie was nodding, distracted by someone pressing the call button, and responded mindlessly, “Yeah, that’s pretty norm—Wait, what? I didn’t know anything about that!”
“That’s what I heard,” Alice said, looking and sounding suspiciously like Alexis Rose. “Super juicy. They wouldn’t tell me which player which was upsetting.”
“I wouldn’t want to know anyway,” Bonnie said, largely trying to convince herself because, though she would never admit aloud, she was not immune to gossip. “I couldn’t look them in the face again.”
The plane rumbled.
“Fine, I won’t tell you when I find out, but I also won’t tell anybody you’re sleeping with Nico. Promise.”
Bonnie’s neck snapped as she turned to glare at Alice. “Yeah, you better not because I’m not sleeping with Nico.”
“Oh, really? Damn.” Alice pouted. “You so could be, though. Should be.”
The thing about that was that Bonnie knew she could be. Nico had never made it explicitly clear, but nobody else on the team spent any time in the galley with her during flights. Nobody else ever got up and sought her out when they needed something.
Nobody else touched her so effortlessly, so naturally, when in her space without at all being in the way or a burden.
Nobody else ever looked at her like she was the best thing to happen in their day.
Bonnie tried her hardest to hide the small sigh that escaped her lips. She made direct eye contact with Alice as she moved the conversation along.
“How did you even find out about the Rangers thing? This is your first flight.”
Alice, either oblivious to the redirect or just so interested in the gossip that she didn’t mind, rattled on, “They brought me in for orientation and the woman they left me with is chatty.”
Bonnie knew the exact woman being referred to—in fact, she’d been subtly blacklisted from the Devils’ flights at the beginning of that season for some very inappropriate and entirely unsubtle flirting.
Alice was still talking, even as she left the galley with her tray of water bottles and crossed through the curtain, stopping mid-word to change topics and start a conversation with the person sitting directly on the other side.
A brief jolt came over the plane and Bonnie groaned. It was followed by a considerable rattle.
She was second guessing her career choice as her stomach lurched with the plane when Nico, once again, appeared in the galley. His closed-mouth smile was genuine if not a little cautious and it set Bonnie at ease.
Until she felt more turbulence and was met with Nico’s uncertain head tilt.
“You can stay, but you have to sit there,” Bonnie told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to forcibly turn him around to look at the jump seat she was pointing at. “And put your seatbelt on.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When he sat down, he only broke eye contact to find the seatbelt. “What did you do while we were on break?”
The shelves were rattling around her.
“Worked other flights like I normally do when you guys are at home for a while,” Bonnie answered. “I don’t just sit at home and wait for the team to go on a road trip, you know.”
“That… that makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t know why I thought you only flew with us.”
“Sometimes I fly with the Knicks, sometimes there’s some commercial flights. You boys are my favourites, though.”
Nico’s sweet smile turned just ever so slightly into a smirk. “I knew we would be.”
“You didn’t even know there were others,” Bonnie said, laughing.
“Yeah, but obviously.”
Bonnie’s eye roll was good natured, her laughter continuing as Nico’s smirk morphed back into its purest, most genuine form.
She kept looking back at him as she continued to work, sometimes to show she was listening and other times just to look. He was often looking back.
Their peacefulness was interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign being switched on and the plane’s captain making an announcement.
“Everybody, including cabin crew, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please make your way back to your seats immediately and put on your seatbelt; we don’t expect that to be the last patch and we apologise for our lack of notice on that one. If you need emergency assistance, please press the call button and someone will be with you as soon as it is safe.”
The inclusion of the cabin crew set Bonnie on edge, and she was halfway to demanding Nico return to his seat and hunting Alice down to drag her back when the plane shook even more violently than it had the entire life.
Bonnie’s feet momentarily left the floor. She could hear some shouting from the cabin. She could hear luggage bouncing in the nearest overhead lockers. She made eye contact with Nico—all colour was drained from his face.
“Where’s Alice?” Bonnie asked, holding desperately onto the galley counter behind her back. “She needs to be sitting down.”
Nico leant as far as he could, peeking down the aisle, before saying firmly, “She’s in my seat. Come here.”
Bonnie didn’t let go of the counter as she walked, her eyes never leaving the seat opposite Nico, and she was confident she was going to make it before the next bump. She looked back into the aisle when she could, instantly looking to Nico’s normal seat to see Alice expertly calming down some very nervous men, and relaxed knowing that she was safe.
Naturally, the plane started to tremble just a bit harder the very second she was feeling comfortable, and the oh shit had barely left her mouth before the plane dropped again. Her mind filled with all the things that could happen, where her head and the plane would meet, all the things that would inevitably fall on her if she was unable to get off the floor. And then—
“Gopf.”
She was hauled by the arm with an abrupt and unexpected force, all momentum she’d gained coming to a crashing halt when she collided with Nico’s chest and was held firmly in place by his arms wrapped around her.
“This is the worst flight I’ve ever been on.”
“Go on a date with me.”
Bonnie froze in Nico’s arms; no thoughts being given to the next bumpy patch and all thoughts being focused on his words and the way his arms squeezed just a little bit together.
“What?” she asked, breathless. “Nico.”
“I kind of feel like we might be about to die,” he said—it wasn’t totally clear if he was being serious or not, but he was sincere in his tone. “I don’t want that to happen without at least asking.”
She sighed wistfully, swooning closer to him in their already intimate position. Nico’s eyes dropped to Bonnie’s mouth, causing her to bite her lip and turn her head.
“I shouldn’t have asked?” Nico asked cautiously, his arms loosening around her waist. “I’m sorry.”
Bonnie shook her head, and said in a whisper, “You should have. I’m just—I’m working. I wish I wasn’t working.”
Out of the corner of her eye she caught Nico’s small, pleased expression, and revelled in the delight in his voice when he said, mostly to himself, “I’ll ask again when we’re off the plane.”
For her own sanity, and to remain professional whilst working, Bonnie took the slight break in turbulence as an opportunity to move to the empty jump seat on the other side of the galley. Nico’s hands lingered on her waist as she left, and his eyes burnt holes in the side of her head. She was determinedly looking down the aisle, carefully not looking at anybody sitting down.
The turbulence continued, the seatbelt sign remained on, but Bonnie and Alice were free to move around the cabin. Nico went back to his seat when Alice returned, the smile he sent Bonnie had Alice turning to her deviously.
“Are you sure you aren’t fucking him?”
“I would remember.”
Alice prattled on about maybe the sex being so good that it was affecting Bonnie’s memory, not letting up even as they prepared the cabin for landing—both of them steering clear of the cabin as the players stripped down to change back into their suits. It was amazing how much work she could get done whilst her mouth was moving a million miles a minute, seemingly every thought coming out in a stream of consciousness. It may have been about Bonnie, but it was still enough for Bonnie to tune out the exact words and just let it become background noise that distracted her from thinking about whether or not Nico was in fact going to find her once the plane had landed.
As always, the players were the first off of the plane, most of them thanking Bonnie and Alice, whilst others looked a bit too green to speak. Nico was the last of the players to disembark, slightly uncommon but not unheard of. Bonnie had to keep her eyes trained on his face because she knew if she even looked at Alice for a moment the endless talking would restart.
“I, uh, don’t actually know if I can miss the team bus from the airport,” he said, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his voice solemn. “But if I could get your number, we could meet up later? For dinner?”
“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, blushing. “I’d like that a lot.”
Nico pulled out his phone for Bonnie to enter her number, and, when she was finished, she made accidental eye contact with Alice who had, to Bonnie’s dismay, started to dance in the galley.
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sunrisesfromthewest · 5 months ago
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First Encounter Part 7
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Warnings/Brief Summary: Marcus doing the must 💯|Ex being mentioned |Kelly and Dorn scolding reader🫠| Rita speaking facts🎙️ | Mike being done with the BS🙄| Next chapter might be the last part😢
Author’s note🗣️: I made this part a little long since I been M.I.A, enjoy ;) 💕
Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6  
———————————————————————
After mourning your skittles that you didn’t even have a chance to enjoy, you return back outside with your now tolerable father to discuss the plan on saving Christine from McGrath. 
Reaching the group, you noticed Mike and Armando standing to the side having a private discussion, but the more you watch their interaction, the faster you realized that Mike was lowkey praising his son's actions, giving him pats on the shoulder with a proud smile. 
Sensing an extra pair of eyes on him Mike looks past Armando, to see you and Marcus, standing with the group, giving him a quizzical expression, as he ‘disciplines' Armando for his actions.
Switching his face from proud to annoyed, Mike smacks Armando’s arm, pointing at him, while saying, "But you bet not do that dumb shit ever again.” 
Watching as Mike approach the group, with a perplexed Armando trailing behind him, you shake your head, amused by how Mike tried to cover his ass. Knowing that if he didn’t your father would start up with his mess again, but not to anyone surprise, Marcus already picked up on the bullshit.  
“Over there praising that boy for his hereditary playboy moves, Imma whoop your ass after this rescue, Mike!" pausing he look at Armando with a devious smile," Oh and I can’t wait to get my hands on you!” 
Rita cuts in before they could start bickering more, "ENOUGH! We need to focus on taking down McGrath, and not your kids FUCKING EACHOTHER!” 
Stunned by how her bluntness, you watch as everyone stood still, either too scared to talk back or still in shock. 
“Uh yeah, I think it’s time to focus on the real issue here.” you said swallowing hard as everyone gaze turn to you. 
“Alright so we need to call back u-” Rita begins to say but is cut off by Mike, "No can do were still wanted fugitives and I know that McGrath wouldn’t like the extra reinforcement......this needs to be executed by us and us alone.” 
Nodding her head she looks at Mike questionably, "Well how are we going to get their discreetly.” 
“With him." he said pointing at Lockwood with a determined look. 
“Mike will it be smart to use him.... he was the one that got us involved in this mess." Marcus said unsure by his decision to use Lockwood, knowing that he could fuck up the mission. 
“He’s the reason this shit started, and he’s the only one that has direct contact to McGrath." Nodding his head in understanding Marcus says, “I know but I don’t trust him when it comes to communicating with McGrath.” 
“I can help with that...I can easily transform Mike voice into Lockwood's, McGrath wouldn’t even know the difference.” Dorn says with certainty.  
“Well let’s get to work, we already waisted enough time." Rita says giving her approval of the plan. 
As everyone begins to break apart to get the plan in motion, you feel someone tug on your arm. Looking up you see Kelly giving you a forced smile, while tugging you away from any nosey listeners.
Already knowing what it might be about you roll your eyes, "Girl please don’t go into no rant about my dumb decision.” 
Exhaling she shake her head sending you a pointed look,” Y/N I don’t even want to hear it, the fuck was you thinking.... sleeping with his fugitive ass.”
Rubbing at your face you say, "I know Kells...I messed up, but it’s been a stressful week working at the hospital and shit with everything going on...I needed that relief.” 
“If you needed relief, you could’ve just called Rafe." she said folding her arms. 
“Why the fuck you keep bringing him up, I don’t want nothing to do with his ass after what he did to me.” you said folding your arms with a rigid expression. 
Studying you with her pensive eyes, she releases a sigh, "Okay, my bad for bringing him up but.... I would rather you deal with him than Armando.”  
Blinking you stare at Kelly with a blank face, completely frozen. 
“Kelly...since we all under a lot of stress and pressure right now.... Imma act like I didn’t just hear you say that stupid shit.” you said with a clenched jaw. 
“Y/N don’t be like that; you know what I mean.... I just want you to start messing with people that can raise your standards.”  
Pursing your lips at her words you say "Kells if I wanted someone who could raise my standards, I would just date one of the doctors from the hospital and finally fulfill your little greys anatomy fantasy.” 
Grinning she says, "Please do because I’m ready for some real-life Meredith and Derek action." Scoffing you say, "Girl, bye why you choose the most problematic characters.... matter fact they all problematic so never mind!” 
Giving each other a look you burst out laughing at y’all antics, "Besides, I'm already surrounded by that daily at work, so no thank you.” 
Calming down she smirks, "Okay fine...but you acting just like them, sneaking away so you can get som-”cutting her off you give her annoyed look. Kelly raises her hands in defense,” Hey, I'm just saying you gave it up pretty quick, you made Rafe wait for months before you let him hit.” 
“Don’t even try it, that was different, we were in a relationship, this was just a quick fuck.” you say already getting annoyed again by the mention of your ex. 
“Y/N, you do realize that ever since you got involved with this mess, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, and the way he's been glancing at you, says otherwise." she said pointing behind you. 
Gazing over your shoulder you see, Armando watching the interaction between you two, locking eyes, you see him smirk and give you a wink. 
Shaking her head at the scene in front of her Kelly mumbles “quick fuck my ass.” Breaking the intense eye contact you turn back to her saying Huh, with a lost expression. 
“One look at him already has you acting dumb.... damn girl he must’ve put some work in," Kelly says running her eyes over your figure. Snapping out of your stupor, you smack your lips, "He....ain’t do all of that, I mean don’t get me wrong it was good ...AMAZING....girl I’m not finna even lie...he had me wobbling.” 
Covering her mouth Kelly dramatically wipes away a fake tear, "He done turn my best friend into a hoe." As your about to say something smart you hear a familiar voice cut in "She not wrong Y/N/N, and I was being serious when I said you're going to my therapist.” 
Rolling your eyes, you peer up to see Dorn approaching, with a smug look. 
“Not you too......and y’all gonna stop using that hoe word so freely." you said pointing at both of them with a semi-serious look.  
“Y/N you had sex with him knowing that he was a fugitive...knowing that he killed Captain Howard....Knowing that he was trying to kill us in the process....and girl you barely know him." Pausing to scan your figure he says, "And by the looks of it you definitely didn’t use protection....A.K. A definition of a hoe.” 
Placing your hand on your chest in shock you say, "You did not just read me!” 
“I did but only out of love, cuz you need a wakeup call!" he says looking at Kelly, who nods her head in agreement. 
“First of all, I don’t need no damn ‘wakeup’ call, when I was fully aware of what I was doing, and secondly why is everyone forgetting I’m a grown woman,I can fuck whoever I want!” you said nose flaring while glaring at Dorn and Kelly. 
“Y/N were not judging you we just want was best for you.......especially after what happened between you and Rafe.” Dorn says with concern, while staring at his friend. 
“I know it’s just tiring hearing everyone criticize my actions." Rubbing your face in frustration, you sigh look everywhere but at them. Walking up to you, Kelly pulls you in a tight hug, silently allowing her presence to comfort you. 
Hugging her back you look to see Dorn standing their hesitantly, sighing you wave him over with a small smile. Embracing the comfort of your friends you say, "I love you guys but I swear your worser than my parents." 
 Laughing Kelly pulls away shaking her head in disagreement,”Nah,Y/N your dad is definitely worser than us, he had me in a death grip earlier mumbling about how your gonna birth gangster babies!” 
“No, he didn’t!” you say glancing at Dorn for confirmation, not believing it, watching as he gives a firm nod of his head with a smile, had you rolling your eyes. 
“Y’all are going to be the death of me.”you said laughing while wiping at your eyes. 
 Shivering slightly from the light breeze you say, "We should make our way back to the other’s I know they’re wondering where we ran off to.” 
As y’all begin to make your way back towards the front of the lake house you start to hear yelling and scuffling. Looking at Kelly and Dorn they quickly make their way to the front immediately drawing their guns. Following behind them quick as well, you see them pause, confused and alarmed at the sight before them. 
Stepping out from behind them, your just about to ask why they stopped until your eyes landed on the scene in front of you. 
Marcus seemed to have caught Armando lacking because the sight in front of you doesn’t even seem real and to be completely honest you pinched yourself to double check. Somehow your dad had Armando in a headlock, while shouting some crazy shit at him, as Mike tried to pull him off his son. 
Watching as Armando runs in circles trying to pry your father off him without truly hurting him, made you spring into action. ”DAD..WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!" you say trying to pull him off along with Mike. 
“YOU THINK YOU CAN SLEEP WITH MY BABY WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES! OH, HELL NAH!” Marcus say seemingly lost in his on frustration.  
Listening as Armando lets out a few grunts and cuss words in anger, as your father tighten his hold on him, almost made you laugh but the agitated look he sends you had you biting your lip instead. 
Moving in front of Armando you attempt to remove your father arms as you yelled, "HOW THE HELL, DID HE GET YOU! IN A HEADLOCK?!” 
“Mierda, no sé, estaba hablando con Mike y luego lo siguiente que sabes es que se está aferrando a mí como un puto gorila!(Shit, I don't know, I was talking to Mike and then the next thing you know, he's clinging to me like a fucking gorilla!)” he growls in spanish becoming agitated the longer Marcus hangs onto him. 
“BOY DID YOUR ASS JUST CALL ME A MONKE-” finally breaking his hold Armando fly's forward in your arms causing you both to fall, while your dad was being held back by Mike who was starting to struggle. Seeing this Dorn and Kelly runs over to help Mike restrain Marcus as he continues to thrash around crazily. 
Somehow during the fall Armando shifted your weight causing him to take most of the impact. Groaning you roll to the side, trying to catch your breath. Moving your head in his direction, you were met by his pained expression as his eyes scan over your face. 
“You're okay, Nena?” he says breathing hard to catch his breath, nodding your head, you grimace as you sit up, eyes quickly assessing him. 
“I should be asking you that." you said slightly winded from the fall but eyes remaining on him with concern. Sending you a small smile, he nods his head still trying to catch his breath. 
Looking at your father who has a satisfied grin on his face, made you rolled your eyes at his immature behavior. "I can’t believe he did that.... he’s literally the cause of his on stress.” you said still in disbelief by what just happened. 
Hearing slight movement, you look back to see Armando, sitting up looking more annoyed than in pain now. "I wanted to throw him off of me.... but I knew that would’ve caused more problems." he said sending you an unsure look as he waits for your response. 
“Yeah, that definitely would’ve made it worse but to be honest..I don’t think anyone would blame you." you said with a smile. 
“You guys alright!” Mike says as he makes his way over to you two. Nodding your head, you move to stand up, letting out a moan in the process. "Just a little sore but other than that nothing too serious.” 
Offering Armando your hand, you pull him up from the ground, with little effort. “I’m just surprise that he attacked me...I mean Y/N warned me but I didn’t think he was actually going to do something. "Armando says dusting himself off while gazing between you and Mike. 
Mike rolls his eyes at his reply, "Marcus little ass always trying to prove a point, he didn’t mean no harm by it, and thank you for not hurting him.... I know you could have.” 
“Yeah, thank you for that." you said giving his shoulder a light squeeze in appreciation. Gazing up at him with a smile you were met with a smirk, confused you tilt your head to the side silently questioning him. 
“I can think of a few ways you could.....really thank me.” he said pulling you into his side while giving your hip a light squeeze. 
“See that’s the reason we dealing with Marcus's bullshit right now." Mike says pulling you away from Armando with a disappointed look.  
” Keep your nasty ass hands to yourself, matter of fact until this mission is over with, y’all ass bet not be near each other...comprende!”he says glaring at you two but more at Armando. 
Shaking your head, in agreement you gaze over at Armando, who is squinting his eyes at Mike. Watching as they have a staring match, made you raise an eyebrow in amusement, giving Mike a fake smile Armando says sure. 
Exhaling nosily through his pursed lips, Mike just accepts that it was a lost cause, "I swear if y’all give Marcus another reason to flip the fuck out tonight, he ain’t gonna be the one you have to worry about.” 
And with that he walks away seemingly done with dealing with everyone’s problems. Sighing you move to leave as well but is stopped by Armando grabbing your hand, "You gonna let his little threat stop us from having some fun."  
Glancing up at him you see him peering at you with a coy smile, "No, but I think we done had enough fun tonight." you say slightly narrowing your eyes at him. Rolling his brown eyes, he pulls you in a small embrace, hands falling to your waist. 
“Okay fine...but I still think I deserve a reward for not acting on my impulses." he says looking down at you with want. 
Fluttering your eyelashes in fake contemplation, "I don’t know.... you did show restraint when it came to my dad.... but right now, you're struggling with staying away from me.” 
Eying the way you lightly run your hands against his arms, made him smirk, "Doesn't seem like I’m the only who’s struggling, querida.” 
Staring up at him with a teasing smile,” Oh I’m not struggling at all, in fact I’ve been wanting to jump on you, since we left the apartment," pausing you look away from him, gazing at the others, "but for their sake, I'll wait until we rescue Christine.” 
Grabbing your chin, Armando pulls your attention back to him, "Well I can wait as long as you want, the only thing I want from you right now is a kiss." he says tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.
"I think I can manage that." leaning forward you lick your lips in anticipation, "I mean after all I still need to reward you….right."
Keeping his intense gaze on your full lips,he hums in agreement.Deciding to tease him a little you lean up and give him a quick peck.
Shifting his low lidded brown eyes to yours,he reaches a hand down to pinch your ass hard,”Don’t be a fucking tease,Y/N.”
Jumping from the pinch you smack his chest playfully,”Okay,fine just wanted to see how eager you were.”
Pressing your full lips against his warm soft ones made you release a content sigh,as he pressed your body closer to his.
Shivering lightly from the way his tongue grazed yours,made you pull away from the kiss,”It might be smart to stop now before this get out of control.”you said taking in a breath while giving him a smile.
Staring down at you in thought, Armando smirks,”What…scared of giving them a show?”
Smacking your lips you pull away from his embrace,”No…I’m worried the longer I stay in your presence,the more I realize that I might actually have hoe tendencies.”
Face going blank he says,”What?”
Laughing at his expression you take his hand,pulling him with you as you walk towards the others.”Nothing just…never mind,I’ll explain it later.”
Armando trails behind you,still confused but choosing to disregard it as he keeps a sharp gaze on the way your hips sway.
“Y’all done being all lovey dovey.”Marcus say eyeing the way you keep a tight grip on Armando hand as you approach.Rolling your eyes at your dads comment you say,”Maybe…you done acting like a fool?”
Rolling his eyes as well,he cross his arms,while watching you two,”…..For the sake of my future grandchild,I am.”
You and Armando eyes immediately widen in shock,as y’all say,”What!!!”
__________________________________________
Authors Note🗣️:Marcus just don’t know when to quit ,and y’all starting to get on Mike nerves 😭😭😭.
⬇️That’s your ex Rafe(I wonder why he wasn’t in the new Bad Boys🤔)
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lonelym00n · 2 years ago
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You stole my heart (but you're too young)
Sam Carpenter x Reader
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Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: Sam thinks you deserve better than her, you couldn't disagree more.
Warnings: Nothing? Age gap but everything is legal (I left it up to interpretation but Sam is like 26 while R is 20ish). Kissing, if that's a warning.
A/N: Based off of this! Marrying my love for music with the scream franchise one fic at a time <3!! This one uses Tyler the Creator's song, Fucking Young/Perfect!
Day that I met you girl, knew that it was something special
With heavy footsteps and a yawn, Sam Carpenter made her way up the endless stairs leading to her apartment. Her boots thudded against each step particularly loudly today, a direct result of the ache in her legs that came with working a shift for not just one of her shitty jobs, but both of them.
At long last, she approached the door that signaled she’d finally made it through her tiring day. Sam momentarily struggled with opening the series of locks on the door- as it turns out, unlocking a door is especially hard when balancing her work bag and two boxes of pizza. 
She manages to unlock and open the door eventually, and steps into the comfort of the apartment. Like a hot shower after an extra hard gym session, her overworked mood fades away at the warmth of her home. 
Sam calls out a greeting and makes her way over to the table, setting down the pizza. Her bag is tossed onto the nearest chair, and once her hands are empty, she takes a moment to roll out her tense shoulders, groaning softly.
After some long overdue stretching, she shuffles towards the living room to announce the arrival of the pizza and to take a mental note of the apartment’s occupants. She’d heard Tara speaking with someone when she’d walked in, but had a greater need to first set her belongings down, and then engage in her daily check-in of how her sister’s day had gone.
“Tara,” Sam calls out before rounding the corner that leads to the living room, “The pizza’s here.”
Tara’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers, two different notebooks, and a few pencils. Her laptop is propped up in front of her. To her sister’s right sits a girl Sam has never seen before and she pauses slightly at the sight. 
Tara huffs at her notebook and lets the pen she’d been holding fall out of her grasp. She looks up at Sam.
“Thank god,” she whines dramatically, “I needed a break.”
The small girl stands, lightly brushing herself off. Tara turns toward your seated form.
“Come on, pizza time.” The girl’s scarred hand enters your vision, breaking your intense concentration by offering some help in standing up. 
You take it gratefully, letting her pull you up. 
Sam, who’d been sneaking glances at you throughout the whole interaction, sucks in a breath now that she can fully make out your features. Your eyes twinkle and your preferred style of clothing suits you perfectly. You’re effortlessly beautiful, and Sam is utterly captivated by the allure that you exude.
She’s snapped out of her slight daze at the sound of Tara’s voice.
“Sam, this is Y/N. We have Chemistry Lab together.”
You wave, wiggling your fingers slightly as you do so. A tiny smile is on your lips and she swears you’re batting your eyelashes up at her, either that or her tired mind is playing tricks on her. Probably the latter.
“Hi Sam, it’s great to meet you.”
She hates the way your smooth, sweet-sounding voice almost causes her to let out a shudder. You stretch out a hand and suddenly she’s nervous, hoping her own aren’t too rough like they sometimes could be.
She meets you halfway, ensuring she’s extra gentle about clasping her fingers around yours. The contact has a spark shooting up her spine, and she clenches her jaw to bite back the gasp that almost escaped.
She clears her throat, “It’s nice to meet you too.”
You pull away, and her hand almost feels cold at the lack of warmth. All too suddenly, Tara’s quickly pulling you towards the waiting pizza.
Sam stays rooted to her spot, rapidly trying to process the sudden pounding in her chest. The light laughter trailing from the dining table knocks her out of her stupor. She blinks and retreats to her bedroom to take a much needed shower, hoping it’ll not only help lull her into a more relaxed state, but clear her mind too.
She sets the water to the hottest temperature and strips out of her soiled clothes. A small hum slips out of her chest when the scalding water makes contact with her body. She stays in the shower longer than necessary, and throws on a tanktop and shorts when she exits.
The apartment is quiet when she resurfaces from her room. The digital clock on the oven reads 11:27 PM, and she ignores the small pang in her chest that rises up at the realization that you’ve likely returned to your own home by this time. 
Sam heads over to the dinner table where the pizza boxes (thankfully) still sit, grateful that Tara only had one friend over tonight because it meant there was still plenty of food leftover for her to eat. As much as she loved Mindy and Chad, they had a habit of eating first and being considerate second. It’d left Sam to have to scrounge up a meal for herself on several different occasions, but she cared more that everyone was eating and getting fed, so she never complained. Besides, she’d always put the twins and Tara before herself, the older girl felt the strong need to protect them because of the hell that they’d gone through together back in Woodsboro.
Tara pads into the kitchen while Sam’s polishing off her second slice of pizza.
“How was work?”
Sam swallows the last piece of crust, then answers. “Long, boring.”
The younger girl nods. “Thanks again for getting the pizza. By the way, sorry I didn’t tell you about Y/N coming over, it was kind of a last minute thing. She offered to help me with the pre-lab.”
Sam shrugs, “No big deal.” Then, cautiously, “She seems nice.”
A small smile pulls at Tara’s lips, “She is, super smart and funny too. You should see her and Mindy together, they’re hilarious.”
Sam unknowingly files the new found information away. She hums, “I bet.”
“Actually, I invited her to game night tomorrow. Are you gonna be home in time?”
Every Friday night the sisters hosted some kind of get together, whether it be a movie night, craft night, or their most recent obsession, a game night.
Sam mentally runs through her schedule, luckily enough she didn’t have a shift at the bar, so she’d be home by six.
“I get off at 5:30, so yeah.”
Tara smiles, “Good, you could use some fun.”
Sam rolls her eyes and lightly punches Tara’s shoulder, “I have fun!”
The shorter girl laughs, “Keep telling yourself that.”
The two girls share a brief hug before Tara heads to bed. 
Sam tucks the leftover pizza into the fridge, double checks the locks on the door, and goes to her room. She climbs into bed and burrows into her pillows. She drifts away with the quiet excitement of getting to see you again tomorrow.
We met through mutual friends and this is where the story and confusion began // ‘Cause I was at Nirvana but I had to pretend that I wasn’t
Tara was right, you and Mindy were hilarious together, Sam can’t stop herself from chuckling at your shared antics.
“Uno,” you smirked. 
Mindy slammed her hands down on the table, narrowing her eyes, “There’s no way! You have to be cheating!”
You lean towards Mindy, whispering teasingly, “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m just that good.”
Mindy grumbles. “Someone hit her with a plus four, for the love of God.”
You laugh heartily. 
Tara plays, then Chad, Anika, Ethan, and Quinn take their turns.
“None of you had anything?” Mindy asks incredulously.
She has a skip, but with Sam sitting between the two of you, it wouldn’t be useful to play it. She groans and throws down a yellow two.
“Do something Sam, she can’t win again.”
Sam laughs and scans through her cards. She has a pretty good hand, and surprisingly a few different cards that could stop you from winning. The card she chooses to play, however, is a simple five.
What? It’s not like she wanted you to win or anything, she just liked seeing Mindy lose.
Dramatically, you slam your hand down on the top of the pile, ridding yourself of your last card and giggling gleefully as you go. 
“You had a wild card as your last card?!”
You smile so brightly at Mindy that Sam’s sure the other girl might go blind.
“Read it and weep, Meeks!”
“I hate you!”
There’s some brief discussion on which game should be played next, and everyone agrees when Quinn suggests Pictionary. 
“Let’s do it in pairs,” Chad chimes in, throwing his arm around Tara.
“I get to pick first, since I won!” You gloat.
You scan the members of the table, searching for whoever would be best to assist you in scoring another win. When your eyes land on Sam, you know exactly who to pick to secure your victory. Plus, you might’ve been harboring a secret crush on the girl, so it’d double as a good bit of bonding.
“Wanna join me, Sam?”
She gulps, but nods rather furiously. Her words come out so quick, she nearly stumbles over them altogether. “Yeah, yeah count me in.”
You grin at her and her heart flutters. 
Tara and Chad pair up, and Mindy chooses Quinn, which Anika snorts at. She and Ethan happily team up, even though the choice was out of their hands.
The game goes exactly as you thought it would, with you and Sam in the lead by two points.
“Suck it Mindy, another point for us!”
Mindy fights back a scream of frustration, “You’re only winning because of Sam!”
You shoot her a cheeky grin, “Yup I know! I’m not afraid to admit that she’s carrying our team, it still means I’m winning!” 
You place a hand on Sam’s bicep, patting it softly as if you’re thanking it for its drawing skills.
Okay, so maybe you’d been dying to feel the hard muscle, watching it flex as she sketched out each prompt, but that was for you to know and you alone.
“Sammy’s unstoppable, so glad that I have such an amazing partner.”
Everyone laughs, with the exception of Mindy who glares. Sam is eternally grateful for her tan skin, because it hides the blush that erupts on her cheeks at both the nickname and the compliment.
You and Sam win. You cheer and hop out of your seat, dragging Sam up with you. You dance around while she grins, just watching you. Suddenly, you’re leaning up to throw your arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a victory hug. When Sam’s hands land on your waist to return the embrace, it’s as if time slows. She’s completely engulfed in the scent of your flowery perfume and it makes her head spin deliciously. You’re so warm against her, and she can’t ignore how the two of you fit together so perfectly. It feels right to have you in her arms, and the thought scares her slightly.
When you pull away, she swears that her heart goes with you. 
You flop back into your seat to gloat at Mindy a second time. Sam sits gingerly. She feels anxious, like one of her friends might be able to see how the rhythm of her heart shifted during the hug to match the pace of yours. 
She wasn’t used to this feeling. When she was with Richie, he never made her feel things so intensely. And god, this was all because of a hug? A hug with one of Tara’s friends, no less.
Sam sank further back into her chair, realizing how utterly fucked she was. 
Now me and she held hands and we danced, nothing more // She kissed my hand a couple times, FaceTime when we’re bored
You were a frequent visitor to the Carpenter’s apartment after the game night. You’d find any excuse to come over, whether it be helping Tara with chemistry or gossiping over a cheap bottle of wine with Quinn. 
Tonight was one of those nights, where you and Quinn were sipping wine in between exchanging stories. Both you and the redheaded girl were sophomores whereas everyone else in the group were still freshmen. It helped having someone to recount the horrors of the frat-obsessed days with, and Quinn was nice enough to drop by the corner store to supply the wine, so it was always a welcome occasion to spend some time with the other girl.
Normally it was just the two of you, since Tara was usually off with one of the twins or Anika and Sam was almost always preoccupied by work.
Today though, was one of those rare dares where the older girl ended her work day early. She’d already finished a shift and gone to therapy, so with nothing else to do, she headed home.
Upon noticing that you were in the apartment, Sam tried her best to keep her distance. Her plan was to hide inside the walls of her bedroom and drown out the lovely sound of your laughter with some TV, but it was quickly spoiled by Quinn.
“Sam, you’re here! Come sit with us.”
She smiled nervously and made her way over to the couch. Quinn was of course already taking up the lone chair, so she was left to join you on the loveseat. 
Ever the observer, Sam’s dark eyes took in the flush that rested in both yours and Quinn’s face, and the half-empty bottle of wine. 
A light slur fills Quinn’s voice, “Y/N was just about to tell me about this girl she met last year.”
Sam’s ears perk up, and she turns to fully face you. Her knee bumps into yours as she shifts to be more comfortable, her skin burning where it had made contact with yours.
You snort out a laugh, “She was kind of cute, I guess. I met her at some bar. She was tall, and like lean, and totally my type and all so I started giving her little signs to buy me a drink or something.”
Sam’s nostrils flare at the talk of your attraction for this girl. Her dark eyes are boring into you, tracing over your entire body while you speak.
“She came up to me and started flirting pretty heavily and then out of nowhere, some guy came up to us and threw his arm around her shoulder. It was weird ‘cuz she just kept flirting with me and then he started flirting too and then all of a sudden they told me they wanted a threesome.”
Quinn laughs hard, leaning over to shove your shoulder. The alcohol has made her limbs heavier, and she pushes you with a lot more force than she likely planned, toppling you over and onto Sam’s lap.
Sam reacts quickly, catching you by the waist to stop you from tumbling off the couch. She internally screams at the feeling of her hands on your bare midriff, the cropped shirt you were wearing leaving part of your lower torso uncovered. 
You squeal and break into laughter, uncaring that your limbs are now tangled up with Sam’s legs.
You make no move to readjust yourself, so she doesn’t either. The way your weight is partially leaning up against her is too good, feels too right. 
Quinn’s phone rings and she gasps, waving her phone around for you and Sam to see. “It’s Max! I gotta go, he’s the one who actually manages to get me off.” 
The girl races up to get ready.
Sam, the protective person that she is, calls out to her.
“Quinn, be careful! Take an uber or something.”
“‘Kay!”
She runs out the door, leaving the amalgamation that is you and Sam behind.
You untangle your arms from her legs and flip over to face her. Her legs open to instinctively make room for you, and you lay yourself in between them, your cheek resting on her tight core.
She’s panicking at not just the position, but your proximity. Though she had spent a considerable amount of time with you due to your recurring presence in her apartment, she’d never stopped being slightly nervous around you. She understood it was because of the feelings that she harbored, but she wished some of her usual confidence could translate over to the time she spent with you too. It was slightly embarrassing to be a clean six years older than you and still fumble around like a schoolboy. 
You turn and blink up at her from your spot on her abdomen. She stares down at you in response.
Things are still for a moment, as you look at each other, wondering what the other is thinking. 
The liquid courage helps you break the silence.
“You’re really pretty, Sam.”
She’s stunned, because she’s been called hot, even sexy on a few different occasions, but never pretty.
Her heart sits high up in her throat.
“Really?”
You nod, all soft and encouraging, and she has no choice but to believe you because you look so sure.
“You’re strong too, not just physically, but mentally. You’re caring and always look out for everyone.”
She’s not sure what brought on this onslaught of compliments, but it causes so many different emotions to rise up in her chest. She’s lost on what to say, but she doesn’t have to speak because you continue.
“Sam, you're the most selfless person I know. You do so much for other people, it’s crazy!”
She laughs lightly, but it comes out more watery than she’d planned it to be.
Your shiny eyes twinkle up at her, and you shimmy up her body so that you’re now lying on her upper chest, near her shoulder.
She could lean her head down and brush her lips against yours so, so easily. But she doesn’t.
No matter how much she wants to, she holds herself back.
And god does she want to, more than anything, because you’re looking at her with a gentleness she’s never seen before. With your eyes on her, she doesn’t feel like the schizophrenic daughter of a serial killer who’s rumored to have covered up a series of murders. She doesn’t feel broken, or like the mistake that tore her family apart. You’re looking at her like she’s whole and like she’s worth something good. 
She knows that if she kisses you, she’ll probably never be able to stop, because you’re everything that someone like Sam Carpenter needs.
Loyal, loving, uplifting.
But she’s scared, because every good thing she’s ever had, she’s broken. She couldn’t risk bringing that upon you, because it’s you and you don’t belong on the long list of people who have gotten hurt because of her.
You’re too good, too perfect, too fucking young. 
Her heart hurts. As much as she needs you, she won’t let herself have you.
As if you’re able to hear her internal battle, you continue your previous thought, “You do so much for other people, but never anything for yourself. I wish you’d do more for yourself.”
A tear slides down her cheek, but in your tipsy state, you remain blissfully unaware. Instead, you’re playing with the ends of her hair and twirling it around your fingers. You don’t even know it, but your touch comforts the vulnerable girl immensely. 
You sigh heavily, press a quick kiss to her clothed shoulder, and push yourself off of her. You stand and move to gather your stuff, clearly getting ready to leave.
“You’re leaving?” She asks, despite it being obvious that you are planning to.
Wobbling slightly, you slip your jacket over your shoulders. “Mhm, it’s late.”
She sits up and moves to stand by the door, grabbing her trusty bomber jacket. 
You tilt your head confusedly, “What are you doing?’
Sam looks at you like it’s obvious, “I’m gonna walk you home. It’s dark, you shouldn’t go alone.”
A series of giggles bubble out of your mouth, “No, you stay here Sam. Besides, if you walk me home, I’ll have to walk you home so you aren’t alone in the dark.”
She smiles despite the stupidity of it all. Then, a thought crosses her mind. She probably shouldn’t, she knows, but she can’t help herself from offering it up as an option.
“How about you spend the night here?”
Your eyes are wide, doe-like, and you pause to consider the offer. “Hmm, okay. That’s the most fair thing to do.”
Sam’s pleased with herself, glad to have found a happy medium where neither of you would have to worry about the other’s safety. 
“Take my bed for the night, I’ll do the couch.”
You shake your head vehemently. “No, no.”
You walk over to her, grab her hand, and tug her towards her bedroom. She doesn’t protest.
Once inside her bedroom, you nudge her so that she’s standing in front of her bed. 
“You sleep here, I’ll take the couch.”
She goes to argue, but you shush her.
You lift your still-joined hands and press a kiss to the top of hers.
“Goodnight, Sammy.”
You release your hold on her and shuffle out of the room. 
The next morning, she smiled at your sleeping form as she passed the couch on her way to work. 
Things shifted in your relationship after that night. Sam still told herself you two were just friends, despite the way you both acted like more. 
You started coming over to the apartment just to see her whenever she was free. The two of you would cook together, flirty comments thrown in here and there as the food was prepared. Other times you would watch a movie on the loveseat, sat so close together that your thighs touched.
When you were too busy to travel through the chaotic NYC transportation systems to visit Sam, you’d FaceTime her. Though you claimed to be bored, you both knew the real reason for the calls.
Her feelings for you grew, and yours did too. 
Though you had a sneaking suspicion that she returned your feelings, you didn’t want to pressure the older girl. She’d gone through far too much, and so you’d be patient and wait for her to come around to the idea of something more.
And when temptation calls, I never pick up
Sam’s urge to kiss you popped up a few more times.
You were always so thoughtful, she couldn’t help it.
On days when you knew she’d worked a late shift the night before, you’d appear at the door with her favorite coffee and a muffin the following morning.
You texted her nightly, reminding her to eat if she hadn’t already. 
You’d go to parties with Tara, not because you wanted to, but to keep an eye on her for Sam’s sake.
You memorized her therapy schedule and made sure to send a heart or some sweet little message right when the session ended.
Safe to say, Sam had fallen for you despite her desperate attempts not to. 
Though she was tempted to say something to you, she always made sure to hold herself back.
She was deeply traumatized and had the scars to prove it, you deserved better than someone like her, someone your age who was actively building a future for themselves instead of working two dead end jobs and struggling to afford the city’s high cost of living.
More than that, she had her younger sister to consider. She didn’t know how she could possibly tell Tara, wasn’t sure if the shorter girl would find it weird for her to be dating someone practically the same age as her.
You were just too young and it would never work out between you two because of it.
You bring me joy, joy, joy, joy and you fill a void that was once missing
Sam had been avoiding you for a while, and you were upset. You’d grown used to spending all of your time with the older girl and quite honestly, you missed her. 
So you did what any person would do and showed up on her doorstep. You were slightly nervous, Sam usually sent you her weekly schedule so you knew when she’d be working but she hadn’t this week.
You aren’t sure if you’ve done something wrong or if something has happened, but you’re sure that you’re about to find out.
Sadly, you aren't, because it’s Quinn that opens the door. 
“Oh hi, sorry I’m just looking for Sam?”
Quinn gives you a small smile, waving you in. “She’s not here, I think she’s working late at the bar tonight. You can come in and wait though.”
“Okay.” You enter the apartment and chat idly with Quinn for a bit. She shares a few stories of her recent hookups before she has to leave to attend her evening class.
You’re alone in the Carpenter’s apartment, so you decide to make yourself useful and prepare a dinner for them. They almost never had time to do so, practically living off of cheap takeout, and you’re more than happy to try to sneak in a few solid meals for them here and there.
Sam always looked at you so gratefully whenever she came home to a nice dinner, so maybe it’d get you back into her good graces. If it didn’t, at least you’d know she got some sort of nutrition in her diet.
Lucky for you, someone has gone shopping recently, so you get to work on making a spaghetti dish with a salad to go with it.
Along the way, you lose track of what you’re doing. When you’re finally finished with cooking, you realize that you’ve unconsciously set the table and dimmed the lights to create a more calming atmosphere. 
Whoops?
The apartment door opens, and in walks a very tired looking Sam. Her shoulders are hunched over, and she kicks her boots off, uncaring of where they land.
You make a small noise and she halts, snapping her head up and gasping at the sight of you and the display of food on the dining table.
“Hey Sam, sorry, Quinn let me in and I kind of got carried away but I can go if you wan-”
Her firm body slams into yours, and she wraps you up into a tight hug.
You sigh and melt into the contact, tucking your head underneath her chin. A pleased sound rumbles through her chest and she pulls you impossibly closer. 
When she pulls away, she tilts your chin up gently so that you’re looking into her eyes. The deep brown color is swirling with emotion and you’re struck by the beauty of them.
“Thank you,” she says softly, “This week has been so shitty and you just made everything better.”
Your eyebrows knit together, concernedly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Here, go sit.”
She obeys, and sits in her usual spot. You fix her a plate, making sure to grab an extra bowl so she can serve herself some salad.
You place it in front of her and move to sit across from her.
Sam eats while you make little jokes and teasing comments, and she’s sure that this is the way things are meant to be. All her troubles are pushed out of her mind. Her father’s voice is silent. The people that hate her are so momentarily insignificant she forgets they even existed in the first place.
You make her so happy, and with you, the person she was before she was attacked, before the drugs, before her father walked out on her, that person feels safe enough to come out. The piece of her that was missing returns, and it’s all because of you.
You’re washing her dishes, and carefully listening to her talk about her horrible week, and Sam finally feels herself snap.
When you’re drying your hands on the small towel that hangs beneath the sink, she’s grabbing you by the shoulders and twisting you around to face her.
“Wha-”
Her lips are on yours, no hesitation, no going back. You’re too stunned to return the kiss for a moment, but god when you finally do? It’s perfect, too perfect. Your soft lips against her slightly chapped ones drive her wild, along with the soft little gasps and groans you’re releasing. It’s everything, but she’s waited so damn long for this that it’s still somehow not enough.
Her hips are pinning yours to the sink, her hands clutching both sides of your face. It’s then that she growls lowly, bites your lip, and slips her tongue into your mouth when you moan in pleasurable pain.
Sam’s kisses are incessant, furious and intense, just like her. You want to get lost in them forever, would gladly do so.
But then, all too soon, she’s pulling back and touching her lips as if her mind has finally caught up to her actions.
You should find someone else // I’m not the one for you, shit, I’m still growing up by myself
“Wait, wait, we can’t.”
You’re still dazed, not quite sure what she means. “Huh?”
“I can’t do this, I-” She runs her hands down her face, clearly in distress.
“Sam, it’s okay, calm down.”
She shakes her head, “No, I can’t.” She continues, “I’m sorry, but this will never work. You deserve better than me.”
She’s sighing, raking a hand through her long hair, “I’m older than you, I’m fucked up. I’m not what you deserve. I don’t have anything figured out. You’re young, you should find someone else, someone your age who’ll be grown up by the time they’re my age.”
You’re frowning at her. “Sam, none of that is true.”
Boy I know that we could be more than just friends // But you’re scared
She’s scoffing, doubtful. 
But you refuse to give up so easily, “Sam, look. It doesn’t matter, okay? I don’t care that you don’t have a stupid college degree or a 9-5 job.”
She looks at you so sadly, “But you should. I’m a mess, and that’s not what you deserve. We’d never work.”
You’re frustrated. “Look, I don’t care about what I deserve! It doesn’t matter to me, not when you exist.” 
You step forward, moving into her personal space. You cup her cheek, thankful that she doesn’t move away from the touch. Your thumb strokes her skin softly while you talk, “We both know that we aren’t just friends. We could be so much more, and it would work, Sam. You’re scared, and I get why, but this is what we both want. Please don’t punish yourself for thinking I deserve more than you. You’re what I want, the only one I want.”
You lean up on your tiptoes and press a chaste kiss against her lips before pulling back.
“I love you, Sam. So much. All you have to do is let me, and I will.”
Sam searches your eyes, and finds only love looking back at her. 
She’s been selfless for so long now, maybe it’s time she started thinking about herself and what she deserves, what she wants, what she needs.
She deserves to be happy with you, she wants to, and she needs to.
So for once in her life, she stops being so worried about everyone else, and lets herself have you.
With a sweet, meaningful kiss to your lips, you get your answer.
“I love you too.”
And girl I know that you’re the one for me
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