#waiting for the other shoe to drop…. the bad things will happen anyway

[bddybby666]

meow more meow moew meow moew

meow

[pencil-n-pen]

SPILL YOUR GUTS

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

practice boyfriend! eddie x fem! reader

summary: eddie’s your practice boyfriend. you’re positive he’s upset at you and you’re waiting for him to get mad. however, he has a different response in mind.

cw: references/allusions to past child abuse but extremely vague, references/allusions to bad relationships (also pretty vague), reader acts on a learned response and assumes the worst about Eddie, anxiety

tags/tropes: angst, hurt/comfort (my brand!) sappy sappy romantic idiots, they kiss and figure their mess out at the end

a/n: this came to me in a vision

summary makes this sound smutty but i promise it’s not. this accidentally became disgustingly romantic. read at your own risk :)

࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re positive Eddie’s mad at you.

Okay. Maybe positive is a strong word. But still.

You’ve only been fake/pretend/practice dating Eddie for about two weeks now. He’s the one who approached you with the offer— when you were in the Upside Down together, you’d made an off-hand comment about how you might die without ever having a real boyfriend- not one that mattered, anyway. It’s always kind of been a sore spot for you for a good portion of your life. Growing up, you didn’t really have the best relationship with your dad (Robin likes to call that “The understatement of the year, and we almost died.”) and out of the incredibly small handful of guys you��ve gone out with, none stuck around longer than a month and all ended in such equally, specifically, and uniquely horrific ways, you finally came to the conclusion you had to be fucking something up. What are the chances of all them ended so completely horribly?

After you all had decidedly not died in the Upside Down, Eddie approached you with an offer: pretend date him. You’re popular and well known enough that it’ll help get people off his back about the whole Chrissy/murders thing —even though he’s been absolved of all charges, the people of Hawkins hold grudges— and in exchange, you get a trial run of a relationship that won’t end unless you both agree too— you get to figure out what you’re doing wrong.

You feel bad about it, because even though you spend so much time together, you feel like a nervous wreck. All. The. Time.

You’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop— waiting for him to tell you that you’re too weird, that you’re not considerate enough, that you’re selfish, or that you talk too much.

But he never says any of it. All he ever tells you is the good things. He tells you how sympathetic you are, how kind you are, how good you are at remembering little details that matter. He tells you that you’re a good kisser.

(Yeah. Your first kiss, even after those failed relationships, ended up being with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You’re not quite sure you’ll ever forget how you felt when his lips —just a little cracked, but not rough— met yours; when his hair tickled your face and you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clings to all of his clothes, no matter how many times he washes them. You didn’t tell him he was your first. That’s something you decided you couldn’t bear to share.

You kind of have a feeling he knows anyway, though.)

It all sets you on edge. You’re under no reassurance that you’re perfect. You’re currently questioning if you’re tolerable, from a romantic standpoint.

You know how you are. You’re clinging and you drink up reassurance like a dying man in the desert. You linger in his casual touches like it’s the first and last time you’ll ever feel them. You know you’re a lot. You know. You know that guys in a relationship don’t want ‘a lot’, they want a pretty thing to hang off their arm and laugh at what they say.

But you just… can’t.

You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But you always ended up being too much, or it didn’t work out for some other reason. You want more. You want to feel safe, and happy, and cherished and loved and all those things that only happen in the movies.

The ironic part of all of this is that when you first started setting out terms for your arrangement, Eddie had told you flat out: “This will only work if you are completely and one-hundred percent yourself. You gotta lay it all on me, angel.”

And so you had, and now you regret it because he’s upset about something.

You’d come over to his trailer at his request to ‘hang out’ while he went over DND stuff for his next campaign. Eddie does this a lot— he calls them ‘Neutral Dates’ where you’re not really doing anything in particular- most of the time, you’re both doing seperate things, but still just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice. The majority of your friend circle consists of everyone involved with the Upside Down and that entire mess. You two are no Steve and Robin (you’re convinced those two have the kind of bond no one can replicate or break. Like the kind of bond stray cats get and then they have to be adopted together) but it’s still nice. To just be with someone.

Even if you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

It’s not always eggshells. Sometimes, for a a few moments, you forget. You forget it’s all pretend. You forget he’s just a friend helping a friend fulfill a goal. That’s all.

You’ve almost forgotten just now, too— you’re too concerned about what you might’ve done.

He’s not acting angry, per-se, but he’s definitely upset. You tend to pick up on this kind of thing: small changes in someone’s personality or body language. Most of the time it’s not a conscious habit.

Most of the time.

Right now, he’s run his hands through his hair about a million times. It’s become a frizzy mess behind him, and when you’d made an offhand joke about it —an attempt to lighten the mood— all he’d done was scowl. Not at you, really, but the message was there. You’d snapped your jaw shut so fast you’re pretty sure he heard your teeth click.

After that he’d frustratedly made tea for the both of you, which consisted of opening the cupboards faster than he usually did, closing them slightly louder than he usually does, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the stove-top while he waited for the kettle to boil.

All of this you observed from the corner of your eye while ‘reading’ on the couch.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when you’d finally mustered up the courage to speak again, a little joke about a part in the book you were reading, all he’d said was a flat:

“That’s great, babe.”

You’re starting to get antsy. Nervous. Maybe you should go? Unless he gets upset at you leaving. That would be bad. But he’s clearly upset with you being here, so maybe you should go.

While you’re debating the pros and cons of leaving, you try to remain as still and silent as possible. No need to upset him anymore by moving too much or being too loud.

You flip a page in the book you’re no longer reading (he might notice you’re not paying attention to it anymore) and decide to test the waters again.

“The author just spelled restaurant wrong. That’s the third spelling mistake I’ve caught in this book.”

“Hmm.”

Okay. So that was worse. Talking to him is out of the question, then. It must be something you did, to warrant this kind of reaction.

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything you could’ve done in recent hours to make him upset, but you can’t think of anything.

You glance slightly to the right— not far enough that he’ll see you looking at him, but far enough to get a better look at him in your peripheral. He’s glaring down at his campaign notebook. Shit, he looks so angry.

Unbidden, tears begin to well in your eyes and you try to shift, trying to angle yourself away from him enough that he can’t see the tears in your eyes.

But your hand shifts, knocking into his leg.

Fuck. “Sorry!”

You yank you arm back as if burned, jolting back on the couch so you’re in no danger of touching him. “I’m sorry!”

He sits up, immediately snapping to attention at the desperation coloring your voice. “Woah woah, hey. Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You take a steadying breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks blankly at you. Oh shit, you’re supposed to know that you’ve done something wrong.

“I mean,” You hurry to correct, “I know I— Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

Understanding floods his features and you brace yourself, ready for the reprimand.

“Can I touch you?”

Now it’s your turn to stare with confusion. You nod once, briefly thinking about how weird it is to ask for permission first.

He sits up on the couch, facing you with his legs crossed, the couch springs squeaking loudly at his movement. You resist the urge to wince. He reaches out with a slow hand, taking the hand that’s still clenched, held away from him and up near your chest.

He stares down at your hand, holding it with his left hand and tracing delicate shapes on it with his right. His ringed fingers drag lines around your knuckles and veins, lingering occasionally over the odd, old scar.

“How long did you think I was upset with you?”

Your heart is racing, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. “Um. A few hours? Maybe?”

You’re hyper-aware of the grip he has on your hand, and how quickly and easy it could become crushing.

It doesn’t.

“Bug,” He says slowly after a moment. At first he used to use pet names as a joke— it was something you’d laugh at, between the two of you, since the relationship wasn’t real.

But recently, he’s been saying them with a different inflection in his tone. A little less teasing, a lot more fond.

“Have you spent the past few hours afraid that I was mad at you?”

He sounds… sad. Which is confusing. It doesn’t— he was. He was.

“But you were,” You say, suddenly unsure about anything and everything. “You were upset.”

“I was upset because I couldn’t work this part of the campaign out, and i’m dramatic. I was never mad at you, honey. I was never mad at you.”

You frown, gears turning in your head. “When I made that joke about your hair, you glared at me. And then when I tried to talk to you, you were upset. You didn’t want to talk.”

“I was jokingly glaring at you, I’m so sorry you thought I was serious. I wasn’t, I promise. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I was really focusing on writing.”

You’re both silent for a moment. A beat too long. You want to squirm in the unwelcome space the silence has created.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

That is a loaded question.

“I don’t know,” You pick at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I don’t— I don’t know. That’s the problem. You don’t yell at me, or get angry, or tell me when i’ve made you upset. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He makes a wounded noise in his throat.

“I know you get angry,” You bulldoze on, “I’ve seen it. You’re so… loud, in everything you do. I know you get angry. But you never get that same kind of loud angry at me and I don’t know what to do because that means that I upset you and you don’t tell me about it and then I don’t know how to fix it. I have to fix it, Eddie.”

His eyes, deep and brown, search your face. He reaches up a hand, painfully slow, to cup your face. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you tip your head to the side, leaning into the job.

“I’m gonna tell you something, Bug. Are you listening?” He waits for you to hum in confirmation before continuing. “You’re not responsible for my moods. Or anyone else’s for that matter. That’s not your job. You don’t have to fix it.”

He reaches his second hand up to cup the other side of your face. “You know why I don’t get angry at you? Not all loud and dramatic like that? Because I’ve seen how you react when people do. And I never, ever want to be the reason you get that look in your eye. I never want to make you afraid. I never want you to believe, with proof and confidence, that I’ve grown sick of you.”

You open your eyes, eyes darting across the planes of his face. Searching for even the smallest hint, the smallest giveaway that he might be lying.

You can’t find any. In its place, you find eyes, shining with pure determination. You find lips parted ever so slightly, a sad-sort of smile being etched into being. You find two hands on your face, thumbs delicately sweeping across the skin of your under-eye, of your cheekbone. Smoothing away the steady tears that had begun falling, wiping away the hot trails they leave on your face.

And you realize all at once that love isn’t like the movies. It isn’t picture-perfect kisses. It isn’t ball gowns and dresses and kisses in the rain. It isn’t like the love you thought you were supposed to have: empty and hollow; a life of hanging off of arms and praying your next slip-up didn’t cost you your relationship.

It was this.

It was just being. Just being and knowing the other person is there for just that— for you. It was not raising your voice. It was carrying extra hair-ties. It was making two cups of coffee. It was steeping tea for an extra couple of minutes, just the way he liked it. It was playing your favorite music in the car, and looking over at each other during the bridge, belting the lyrics with the same, toothy-smile. So full and so happy you just keep screaming the lyrics, because you’re filled with so much you don’t know where to put it all.

Your tears begin to fall in earnest now. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but for a different reason now. You’re struck with the need to convey all of this to him— to tell him you understand, you know, you feel the same.

“These hair ties,” You shove your wrist up to his eye-line. “They’re for you. Because you always forget your own. And— and I steep the tea for a few extra minutes, because you like your tea strong, and you didn’t just find that tape in your van, I bought it ‘cause I know you lost the old one in the Upside Down, ‘cause it felt out of your pocket.”

You’re babbling, nearly choking on your tears and your words, rushing them all out of your mouth in an aching wish to be understood, in this very moment.

“I know,” He says, voice a little hysteric and eyes a little too bright. His lip wobbles. He presses your face tighter in his hands. “I know. I know. I see you. I see you.”

You stay like that for a little while. At some point, your hands find his wrists, and then you’re just two fools, smiling like idiots with tears streaming down your faces, staring into each others eyes.

Eventually, Eddie clears his throat. “The next time you think I’m upset at you, you tell me, okay? You can ask. You can ask me and I pinky promise I won’t get mad.”

You giggle wetly. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” He says, taking his left hand away from your face to hold up his pinky. You intertwine yours and his together, the both of you laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He gets quiet for a moment; removes his hands from your face and instead clasps, your hands together, resting in your lap.

“You know why I never tell you when you’re being a bad practice girlfriend?” He says, his voice low and soft.

“How come?”

He smiles, full and good. “Because you’re not. You’re so sweet and kind and loving. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You furrow your brows. “The real kind? The I-love-you kind?”

Your face flushes over the words ‘I love you.’

“I’ve always kissed you for real,” He says, words laden with fondness. “Ever since the day we met and you slapped the shit out of me for being stupid. I’ve been hopelessly obsessed ever since. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You suck in a breath. “So all of this— the, the dates and the hanging out and the kissing— that’s all been real?”

“Every last bit.”

“Then in that case,” You say, squeezing his hands. “I would very much like you to kiss me.”

He leans in, slotting your lips together and everything just clicks. Like this is where you’re meant to be. Maybe it’s puppy love. Maybe it’s not.

All you know is that Eddie Munson is kissing you for real, and he always has been. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[0mg-bird]

Sister’s Mister ~ B. Bradshaw x Seresin Sister Reader

Summary: When Jake’s little sister pays a visit, Bradley gets himself into a sneaky situation where he might want to be the sister’s mister.

Warning: 18+ content ahead, language.

A/n: Very Nickelback coded, argue with the wall.

There was a feeling of uncertainty among the men in the locker room as they showered and cleaned up. Jake left early to pick up a package, that package being his dearest little sister. You.

“He’s bringing her to Payback’s birthday party.” Fanboy states and he pulls a clean shirt on.

The rest groan, asking Payback why he’s allowing it. He just shrugs. “Dude, I felt bad, alright? She’s coming to stay for a month, I don’t want to start off on a bad foot.”

Bob, who was currently pulling his civilian shoes on, shook his head. “Hangman’s enough, what are we gonna do when a second him is going to be hangin’ around?”

They moan about that, all making claims about what you must be like. Things like spoiled, arrogant, and self centered all came up.

Bradley runs his hands through his hair a few times. “Which sister is this anyway? He’s got about five of them.” He asks.

“Big families are common in the south.” Bob reminds.

Coyote is there to answer his question. “I think it’s the one born after him? They’re the closest ones out of the seven kids.”

“Seven!” They all exclaim, cursing with wide eyes.

Bradley shuts his locker. “Six siblings might be the reason Hangman’s a head case.” He claims, making the others laugh.

“Yeah, let’s just hope the sisters not the same way.” Omaha chuckles.

~~

At the airport, you look for the tall head of blonde hair that is your brother. Suitcase rolling along behind you, you pass security and immediately see him.

Jake leans against a pillar, looking rather bored until he sees you approaching. Then, he’s walking to you with a smile.

“I was hoping you’d accidentally board a flight to Mexico instead.” He teases as you hug him.

“Oh c’mon now, don’t act like you haven’t missed me.” You smile, air getting squeezed out of your lungs as his strong arms grip you.

He pulls away and takes your suitcase and backpack. “Hard to miss someone whose face is plastered on magazine issues. But it’s good to see ‘ya, sis.”

The two of you leave to get a bite to eat, then Jake drops you off at the small house you rented.

“We’re going to my buddies birthday party tomorrow night.” He tells you as he checks the place.

You roll your eyes at his effort to make sure no crazy people are hiding behind the curtains, then open up your backpack to unpack some things.

“Which buddy is this?” You question.

“Just someone on my squad.” Jake explains.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Yay, a barbecue in the park.”

Jake glares at your fake enthusiasm. “It’s not a barbecue, and I feel personally victimized by that stereotypical statement.”

“Ooh, Jakey’s using big words.” You fake gasp.

He isn’t amused.

“We’re going to a club, okay? You know all about those, huh?” He teases, making your brows furrow.

“Is that what you think I do all day? Go to clubs with rich people?” You ask, to which he shrugs and nods. You scoff. “I do have an actual job, I just happen to know how to party.”

Jake sits at the kitchen counter. “So do we. Look, it’ll be fun and you can meet the crew.” He says, making you give in.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

He hums. “You never had a choice but I appreciate your cooperation.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out of my house, Seresin.”

~~

“Where’s Hangman?” Phoenix asks as she greets everyone in the parking lot.

They all wait to go inside the club, ready to get drinks down and watch Payback get wasted, but the only problem was they were waiting for the last two to join.

“Fashionably late.” Bradley huffs, checking the time. They agreed to meet at ten, but the minutes continue to tick by.

“Hey, what’s this chick’s name?” Phoenix asks, looking down at her phone with a face of confusion.

They all rattle off names until one clicks.

“Yeah! That’s it.” Coyote agrees, looking at the faces of surprise. “Why?”

She shrugs. “I’m Facebook stalking her.”

Though they want to call her crazy, they huddle around the phone as she scrolls through the profile. Bradley rolls his eyes at the antics.

“You guys are being ridiculous.” He states.

“Holy shit…” Fanboy exclaims.

“She’s gorgeous…like insanely gorgeous.” Payback finishes the thought.

Just as Bradley turns to look, Jake’s truck rolls into a parking spot. Phoenix scrambles to put her phone away, trying to act natural as Jake gets out. He walks around the truck and opens the passenger side door.

Two long legs step out, they all watch with anticipation. The door is shut to reveal you in full.

Long, curled hair, a short black dress. You smile as you approach, it reflects in your blue eyes.

Bradley stands in a daze as you get introduced to everyone. He’s trying to think of a time when he’s seen someone more beautiful than you but he just can’t.

“This is Rooster.” Jake finally gets to him.

Bradley snaps out of it and smiles, shaking your perfectly soft hand.

You let your eyes rise from his shoes, all the way up his jeans and white tank top under his unbuttoned shirt. When they meet his eye, you take in a small breath at the way he gazes at you.

“Hi, Rooster.” You speak with a subtle southern accent, introducing yourself.

Then, you’re pulling away from him, his hand falls back at his side and he sees you turn to Payback.

“Happy birthday.” You say and hand him a small gift bag. “Jake helped me pick it out.”

He reaches into the bag, thanking you and saying that you really didn’t need to get him anything. He takes out a velvet box and opens it to reveal an expensive looking watch. The crew lowly whistles at it.

“Damn…my birthday’s next month by the way.” Coyote tells you, making you laugh.

Inside the club, the group of you gather in the reserved booth with a first round of drinks. Bradley sits directly across from you, watching you intently as you answer different questions.

“What do you do for work?” Phoenix asks, making Jake cut in.

“Stripping.” He says with a serious face, making you slap his arm.

“Stop telling people that.” You scold before looking back at Phoenix. “I model.”

That sparks a roar of interest, the whole time Bradley just watches your movements. Your fingers toy with the skinny straw in your glass as you tell a story about being in a rock music video or of doing an issue for Vogue two months ago. He sees your pouty bottom lip get caught between your pearly teeth when you laugh at something and his mind is flooded with thoughts he cannot speak out loud.

Here he was, worried you’d be a stone cold bitch when he should have been worried that you were gonna make him grip the table to ground himself. All you were doing was sitting there and he was already getting pulled in.

You’re Jake’s sister.

He has to remind himself of that as you are dragged into the swarm of clubbers by Phoenix and Halo.

“So…we’re just going to ignore the fact that she was a bunny?” Coyote mentions, making Jake cringe.

“Hey, asshole, let’s not talk about that when I’m sitting right here. Besides, it was like one issue, and she wasn’t buck naked.” He corrects, chugging his beer at the odd topic this has come to.

“You seen it?” Fanboy cringes.

“Our mom sent it to the family group chat! I was horrified.” Jake gags.

Bradley laughs at his reaction, then shifts his eyes to Coyote who finishes his drink. He sees the smirk he has and knows that there’s gonna be a comment to follow.

“She was hot, dude. I feel a little star struck, actually.” Coyote chuckles.

Jake points an angry finger at his friend. “I love you man, but say anything like that again and I’m putting you through this table. Got it?” He spits.

Bradley looks at his glass.

He better just keep his mouth shut, because if Jake hears the things he’s thinking, he’s as good as dead.

“What do you mean she was a bunny?” Bob questions, defusing the tension. “I thought she was Jake’s sister?”

The guys let out a sigh, Jake races off as it has to be explained to the pilot.

Lights and music pulse and as you dance along, Bradley’s jaw is ticking back and forth. You appear like a phantom, arms up as you laugh with Phoenix.

“I’ll be back.” He tells the guys before heading for the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him and leans on the sink, trying to get himself together. Then, he pulls out his phone and Googles your name.

Hundreds and hundreds of photos appear on the screen, all in which you look sinfully good.

How could he not know of you before? He feels like he’s lived in darkness this whole time.

Bradley splashes water on his face and tells his reflection to get it together. With a deep breath, he goes to the bar, trying to get his head straight.

Things with Jake were finally fine, there was a truce made. The last thing that Bradley needs is to start another war by getting too close to the miniature Seresin.

Leaning on the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him, he’s suddenly joined.

“You weren’t gonna offer me a drink?” You ask with a playful smile.

He turns his head, looking down at you and he internally curses. Of course you’d find him, life was never easy for him.

“I figured you were a big girl and could get yourself something if you were thirsty.” He states, swallowing hard.

You let out a small chuckle, then wave the bartender over.

“Whatcha’ need sweetheart?” The bartender asks, leaning forward with a wink.

“Vodka with a diet redbull, if you wouldn’t mind.” You order, then turn to Rooster with an expectant look.

“Oh, uh, just whiskey on the rocks.” He mutters.

The bartender gets right on it, leaving the two of you alone once more.

You run a manicured hand through your hair and look up at him. “So, Rooster, you got a real name?” You ask.

He nods, avoiding eye contact. His fingers flex into fists and back out again because you smell like cherry and vanilla, it makes him feel woozy.

You laugh. “Yeah? What is it?”

Blowing out a breath, he tells himself he’s stronger than this and looks to you.

“Bradley.” He says, aching as you hum and try the name out for yourself.

“Bradley. I like that.” You nod, taking your drink as it is given to you.

Your lips wrap around the straw and slowly sip as he drinks his whiskey, focusing on the taste of it washing down his throat.

You watch the veins in his arms and the way his adams apple bobs. He’s the perfect picture of fine, the wheels are turning in your head as you establish that he’s what you want.

“You want to dance with me, Bradley?” You ask as he finishes the drink in silence.

He shoots his brown eyes down at you, but doesn’t answer. Your straw slurps as you reach the bottom of your glass. “It’s a simple question.” You state.

“No.” He shutters.

“No?” You clarify.

“I do but no, I won’t.” He says weakly.

“And why is that?” You question, lips pursing.

The way you squint your eyes makes him want to drop dead. He clears his throat. “You’re off limits, sweetheart. The last thing I need is your brother ripping my head off.”

You smile. “I’m a big girl, I can make my own decisions.”

He turns to fully face you now. “I don’t think that matters to Hangman.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I’m standing here talking to you and he hasn’t come found me. I don’t know about you but to me, that seems like it’s okay for you to continue talking to me.”

You were being extremely difficult.

He sits on the chair behind him, motioning for you to do the same. Slowly, you sit, crossing one leg over the other. Your thumb nail gets caught between your teeth for a moment before he reaches out to pull it away. You lightly gasp at the action, then fold your hands together in your lap. “Wanna talk? Let’s talk.”

The two of you exchange friendly chatter, both very aware of the space shrinking between you. The sound of your voice is addicting, the longer you talk, the longer he adores it. All those silly things they guys assumed about you were entirely false. You were smart and kind, you were actually hilarious.

“You still don’t want to dance with me?” You ask after a breath, your fingers running over his thigh.

He sucks in a breath. “You just want me to be killed, don’t you?”

You look at the mass of people. “If I know one thing, it’s that my brother is probably all over some little blonde right now and way too distracted to worry about me.” You state, moving your fingers now to the back of his hand, slowly tracing shapes on his skin.

“What about the others?” He asks.

You shrug. “There’s a swarm of people, I doubt they’ll notice.”

He fights his inhibitions, then decides he’s aching to feel the silk of your dress under his hands way more than he is scared of getting caught.

Bradley grabs your hand, it’s strong as it guides you off the seat. You smirk to yourself as you follow behind him. He strategically places the two of you in the crowd, the lack of space makes you press yourself to him. Your arms hook around his neck, you feel the warmth of his palms on your lower back.

The different colored lights make the silhouette of you sharp and enticing. Though the two of you start out calm, your movements aren’t subtle. One hand in his hair, the other smooths up his chest. You’re hot, blame it on the people around you but the way he’s looking at you isn’t helping. The size of his hands on you, the way his hair gets messy, it has your knees feeling wobbly.

One movement forward, you’re pressed right against him, giving a delicious contact to the crotch of his jeans. His fingers grip your hips tightly, he leans down to press his lips to your ear. Your eyes widen as the heat of his breath washes down your neck.

“Don’t.” Is the only word he utters.

And you aren’t used to being told no.

You do it again, creating that aching friction as you rub against him. “Why not?” You whisper back.

Bradley shuts his eyes, trying to stay strong in the war he is not winning. “Don’t start something, sweetheart.”

You reach down to grab both his hands and slide them behind you. He grabs your ass instinctively.

“What if I want to?” You ask, anything but innocent.

He pulls away from your ear, shaking his head at you like it’ll change the situation. He’s saying no because it’s the smart thing, but really all he wants to do is slide his hand under your dress.

Your hand braces one side of his neck while you lean to the other. Slowly, like you aren’t sure if he’ll push you off or not, your lips press to his skin.

Bradley wants to curse, the way your tongue tastes the salt on his skin has him grinding you against him on his own accord. You make your way up to his jaw, then pull back. His eyes are entirely dark, you open your mouth to speak but he’s kissing you roughly.

You sigh contently as you start to feel like you’re buzzing on more than just alcohol. It only lasts a few seconds, like he just needed a taste. Bradley pulls away with a huff, you feel like you’re going to fall over.

“Still scared of Jake?” You ask him.

He shakes his head. “This isn’t smart.”

“But you want it.” You say, hand sliding up his chest.

He wants it, fuck he wants it. You can see it in his eyes, that’s why you take his hand and pull him out of the crowd.

In the secluded hallway of the bathrooms, in the low red lighting, you’re grinning as you’re backing him into the wall. You inhale deeply, fighting with his lips as he holds your waist. It’s feverish as you kiss, the way you gently press against his waist has Bradley biting back moans. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back, walking you until you hit the opposite wall.

“Don’t be a tease.” He warns lowly, hand gently squeezing your jaw.

Your smirk is victorious. “I won’t be a tease if you take me back to your place.”

He tightens his grip slightly before swooping down and devouring your lips. His strained jeans rub against you. “That’s what you want?” He asks, pulling away again.

You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “I’m up for anything you want to do, actually.”

His thumb pulls that lip down. He looks at it in awe as he makes his final decision.

“Text your brother, tell him that you called an Uber home.” He says.

“Jake already said he was taking a girl home and sent me the cash for a ride.” You breathe.

It’s all a sudden blur, the way Bradley’s dragging you out to the parking lot, helping you into the passenger seat of his Bronco. He’s definitely breaking traffic laws as he races to his one bedroom house.

He struggles to get the door open as you suck at his neck. Once he does get it open, he’s tugging you inside and slamming it shut.

Down the hall, you’re shredding his layers. His button shirt is thrown over the couch in the living room, his belt lands on the coffee table. As you pull his white tank off, your breath catches.

“Fuck.” Is all you can say, looking at how toned his upper body is. His biceps make you want to wrap your hands around them and squeeze.

Bradley smirks, feeling good about himself. “This is what gets you to shut that mouth of yours?” He asks.

You run your eyes over his abs. “You’re like…insanely hot.”

He grips your waist, then backs you up into the kitchen counter. “Says the one with the million dollar body.”

Your fingers dance over his bare skin. “Art appreciates art.” You shrug before devouring his kiss again.

At this point your lipstick is gone, Bradley wears some of it on his skin like you’ve branded him. His hands brace under your thighs, easily lifting you to sit on the smooth kitchen counter. You sit with a huff, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot between them. The smooth material of your dress bunches on your hips, giving him a perfect view of the pretty pink thong you wear.

He breathes heavy in excitement, gazing down at the lace like it’s a prize. That’s before he’s tilting your head back and kissing down the column of your throat. You mewl softly at the feeling, how he dances down the tops of your breasts that threaten to spill out of the dress.

Then he’s sinking further down, you watch him slowly lower himself to become eye level with your core. You gasp softly as he grips your thighs and places warm kisses to them. It stimulates you, the way his lips feel. His hot breath fans over your aching center, he’s kissing the lace fabric like he’s praising it before he grips the top of it.

“You still sure you want this?” He checks one last time. “Because I don’t know if I can stop after I start.”

You grow impatient, flexing your hips to move your heat closer to him. “Bradley, I don’t want you to stop.”

That was enough for him to yank the panties down your legs, letting them hang on one ankle. He keeps your heels on, enjoying the way they press against his upper back as your legs drape over his shoulders.

His tongue comes to run up your center, you take in a sharp breath. He tastes your arousal, immediately becoming intoxicated off of it. Fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs, he keeps you spread open for him as he dives in, eating you out in a way you haven’t experienced before.

Your head falls back, hand wringing in his hair, holding him close to you. A moan tumbles free from your throat. “Oh fuck, you’re good at this. Fuck! Like that.”

He can’t help but grin wildly, stimulating your erected clit before stretching two fingers inside of you. Your hips buck at the feeling, you’re humming out, panting at the feeling. He eats it so good, you don’t even think to muffle the sounds you make.

“Ah, Bradley.” You breathe, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“You like it, pretty girl?” He vibrates against you, making you cry out.

His eyes lift to look up at you writhe. You’re perfect, open mouthed and grinding against his tongue, reacting when he curls his fingers.

“Yes.” You encourage.

The sound is wet and lewd as he sucks on your sensitive skin, your eyes widen as you feel your finish coming on.

“Rooster, I’m close.” You whine slightly, it only makes him focus more and get you closer.

“You want to cum? Do it, finish for me.” He encourages.

Your chest heaves, you tighten your grip in his hair as you clench around his fingers. You curse loudly, feeling the orgasm build and build until you finally snap. You shudder, your thighs clench around Bradley’s head as you feel the wave wash over you. He’s there through it, cleaning you up with his tongue, sucking his fingers clean.

You lick his lips, tasting yourself on him before kissing him.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He coos, helping you off the counter, chuckling at your uneasy legs as he guides you to his bedroom.

The door is clicked shut behind you and Bradley’s pulling you against him, cradling your face in his hands as he clashes his tongue with yours. His pants are pushed off by your greedy hands, then he’s watching you crawl onto his perfectly made bed. Your eyelashes fan perfectly as you stare at him, slowly pulling your dress off and dropping it to the floor.

Fuck.

You’re perfect.

Sitting pretty for him, he lets his eyes roam over your perfect skin, how great you look in his bed.

He’s in trouble.

Your leg extends out, lifting your foot up expectantly. With a pleased smile, he comes forward to the foot of the bed, unbuckling the heel, then the other. He tosses them carelessly behind him, they hit the floor with a clatter.

“Those are expensive.” You warn as he tugs at your ankles, making you gasp and fall onto your back.

“Yeah? I’m sure you have five more pairs just like them.” He states, crawling up the bed to hover over you.

Slowly, the two of you share the same air. You lay, looking up at him. “Come on, Bradley, I won’t tell if you won’t.” You tease.

He could devour you.

“You do this often? Target your brother’s friends?” He jokes back.

Your nails run down his scalp. “I can’t stand my brother’s friends. You on the other hand, you’re different.”

Tongue in your mouth, he’s moaning, sitting up to pull open his nightstand drawer. The foil of the condom is cool in his fingers, he pulls back to sit on his knees as you sit up. You pull his boxer briefs down his toned legs, breathing heavy as his full erection is freed. It aches against his stomach, the tip dripping with precum. You swipe your thumb over it, making him groan.

Completely infatuated, you pump your hand over his length as he rips open the condom package.

“I’ll cum if you keep doing that.” He grunts out, pulling your hand away so he can roll the rubber on. “Get on your stomach.”

The direct tone of his voice has you a mess between your legs, you roll over, legs spread, yelping in surprise as he tugs your hips, positioning your ass in the air.

“Is this okay?” He asks, warmly rubbing your back.

Hair falls in your eyes, he moves it away. You look back at him and nod. “It’s more than okay.”

His dark eyes gleam, then he’s positioning himself at your entrance. You feel the tip of him run down your folds, nudging your clit, making you mewl lowly and grab the pillow.

He pushes halfway in before you gasp, he slowly enters your walls to make sure you’re relaxed enough for him. The pressure his size gives you has you breathing hard already.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart.” He says lowly, letting his head fall back as he finally bottoms out.

Adjusting, you can feel how good he fills you. “Oh god.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly pulls back and pushes into you again.

“You sound so perfect.” Bradley says, slack jawed.

He kneads your ass, gripping it as he sets a pace. The way you lay out on front of him, arched back and taking him so good, he wants to cum inside of you in that moment.

“Mm, like that.” You guid. “You’re so fucking deep.”

Hearing those dirty words from your perfect lips, his vision threatens to go blurry.

“Yeah? Is this what you wanted the whole night, my cock buried inside you. Fuck, you’re so tight, it’s amazing.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling your hips, he fucks you back into him. As you meet his thrusts, broken sounds are coming from your throat.

You’re picture perfect, he’s going to be getting off to this image for weeks.

Mind completely cloudy, you mutter your words, they slur together. His fingers snake down to rub your clit and it has you choking on a sob, burying your face into the pillow at the build up inside of you.

“There you go, baby.” He breathes, picking up his pace. His hand stretches to gently tangle in your hair, his thrusts are hard, jolting you.

His name is muffled as you chant it, warning him that you’re oh-so close. You can’t even turn your head to look back at him, you just lean your head back and cry out as you clench around him.

“Holy shit- I’m almost there, hang on.” He grunts, edging himself closer and closer.

Your body shakes. “Bradley.” You whimper out, then you’re coming all over him.

The shout of him is what makes him push fully inside of you one last time and release. He bucks against you, riding his high out.

You’re collapsed onto the mattress now as he pulls out of you, mouth open as you pant, face and hair a mess.

“Holy fuck…” He runs a hand over his face, moving to lean back against his headboard.

He looks down at you, thinking you’re utterly spent. His gentle hands pull you up to him, slowly kissing you, trying to comb your hair down.

You learn how affectionate he can be. Especially after another round, where you’re watching him fuck up into you as you ride him, and genuine tiredness overcomes the two of you. You both clean up, then you try to decide what your next move is.

Hookups weren’t something you were too familiar with, you’ve only ever slept with your previous boyfriends.

Were you supposed to go back to your house? Did he expect you to leave?

The answer is decided when he shifts to his worn side of the bed.

“Come back to bed.” He says, watching you stand in the doorway, looking at your shoes.

Your eyes lift back up to him and his heart stops for a moment, you’re wearing a genuine grin.

Tangled in his sheets, not bothering to get dressed, the two of you talk until you eventually are lulled to sleep. You tried to fight it, but he’s so warm as he holds you, his voice is such a perfect tone, he’s rubbing your head and doing everything a hookup doesn’t do.

He’s well aware of this.

And when you’re snoozing peacefully, tucked against his chest, he curses and looks up at the ceiling.

He was already in too deep.

Part 2 here

[headkiss]

I’d love to see a “Who did this to you?” Hotch x femreader piece if you’re still taking suggestions!

hiii tysm for requesting!!! | 0.7k hurt/comfort ish, fluff, teeny mentions of alcohol, and tw for blood !!

You are apparently very good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

This time, it meant a night out for drinks with your friends was cut short by an elbow to the face and blood on your new shirt. You’re not even sure what happened; one second you were waiting to order a round of drinks and the next your nose was pulsing in pain.

You must’ve made some sort of noise, so the bartender noticed and offered you a dish towel. It smelled like alcohol and probably hadn’t been washed in who knows how long, but you were bleeding so you pressed it to your nose.

Your friends offer to leave with you, but you assure them you’re alright—though you’re afraid your nose is broken—and that they should stay. You’ll call your boyfriend and it’ll be fine.

Hotch picks up on the second ring.

For once, he isn’t busy and your name flashing on his phone screen is a sight he’s always happy to see. He’s expecting you to be tipsy and give him unnecessary (though not unwelcome) compliments.

Instead, your voice is muffled and shaky, “Aaron, I’m so sorry to ask, but do you think you could come get me?”

“Are you alright?” Is the first thing he says. Forever caring.

“Mostly.”

“Where are you?” You tell him the name of the bar you’re now standing outside, and he’s quick to assure you, “I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Thank you.”

As soon as you hang up he’s grabbing his keys, pulling on his shoes, and heading out the door. You call him often, but you’re reluctant to ask for favors no matter how often he assures you he doesn’t mind one bit. That tells him this must be at least sort of serious, and he can’t help but worry.

Hotch isn’t meant to violate the law for obvious reasons, but he drives over the speed limit to get to you.

When he pulls up to the curb he sees you standing outside, blood on the front of your shirt and a towel pressed to your nose. He’s never parked so fast in his life.

Before you fully register him even being there, Aaron is rushing up to you and grasping your face in the most delicate hold.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you say, nose still hidden by the cloth.

“Let me see,” he says, shifting a hand to urge you to lift the fabric from your face.

You haven’t even looked at yourself yet, afraid of how bad it might be, but you let him look anyway. His sharp intake of breath makes you shut your eyes.

“Is it bad?”

Aaron presses the towel back under your nose in case it’s still bleeding. He holds it for you, your hands dropping to hold the lapels of his jacket. His thumb trails gently over your cheek.

“Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice louder than before, almost angry.

“It was an accident. Nobody’s fault, okay?” You tug on his jacket lightly to make him look at you. “Can you take me to the ER, please? Or just drop me off.”

“Drop you off? Don’t be silly,” he pecks your forehead and lingers for a moment, like he’s trying to tamper down his frustration with seeing you hurt. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

An ER trip later, you’re back at Hotch’s place and glad to say your nose isn’t broken, just swollen and bruised. Which still sucks, but it could’ve been worse. Besides, Aaron taking care of you isn’t so bad.

He wouldn’t let you go home, insisting that you stay with him so he can make sure you’re icing your nose properly. When Aaron Hotchner cares about you, there’s no way to doubt it.

You’ve showered and changed into a set of pajamas you’d left behind at his, and he’s got an ice pack wrapped in a towel ready for you. He sits next to you on the couch, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you to lean against his shoulder, his other hand holding the ice pack to your nose. You hiss at the cold.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Does it hurt?”

“Not so much anymore,” you say. It’s mostly a dulled throbbing now, which is uncomfortable, but more than manageable with him beside you. “I can't believe you’re seeing me like this.”

“You’re still very pretty to me.”

“Aaron, I look like Mr. Potato Head.”

He chuckles at that, his shoulder moving beneath your cheek. Despite your state, you laugh, too.

“Prettiest Mr. Potato Head I’ve ever seen,” he tells you.

And, when he pushes a kiss to your head, you think you’d take a swollen nose any day.

[catharticsky]

Ok he's super cute, super funny, super sweet.

Aand he's ghosting me 😬

I have a date w a cute guy i met while i was shitfaced, so idk what to expect. I'm anxious he won't like sober-me even though he seemed nice so idk. Also i know pretty much nothing about him and going out with someone scares me in general so aaaaaaaa

[pnsteblnme]

wrong impressions ✿ k.m.

pairing: katie mccabe x reader

summary: a misunderstanding leads to conflicts and tension between katie mccabe and arsenal’s newest signing.

warning: cursing, katie and reader being idiots, bad writing 

word count: 5.1k (i don't even know how this happened)

a/n: here’s a little something in honour of ireland's second game today ;) also, this was my first time writing something like this and english isn’t my first language, so bear with me please <3 anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i’m always happy to hear your thoughts :)

“Oh, McCabe isn’t good. She’s borderline reckless and very petulant, plays way too aggressively and all she does is collect cards for her team.”

“The fuck,” muttered Katie with a quiet scoff after hearing Arsenal’s newest signing’s words as she walked into the training facility. Not wanting to hear more comments, she quickly made her way to the locker room and sat down at her designated spot, an annoyed frown still etched onto her face.

As the brunette was tying her shoes, a shoulder nudged hers, “You excited for our new additions?” Katie looked to her left to be met with the buzzing smile of her blonde friend.

“Mhm.”

The corners of Leah’s mouth dropped, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Finishing the tie on her shoe Katie leaned back up, let out a small sigh and opened her mouth. Before she could utter a word though, the door opened.

“So, as you all know, we have two incredible players joining us this season. I’m sure you’re all acquainted with Alessia,” Jonas pointed to the taller of the two women, who sent everyone a friendly grin, “and this is Y/N Y/L/N. Before coming to us she played for Barcelona but because of an injury, our paths haven’t crossed yet,” after he finished his sentence, you raised your hand for a timid wave and looked at all the girls with a nervous smile, a blush coating your cheeks, resulting in a few excited greetings being thrown your way. “I trust that you’ll make them feel at home and yeah, that’s all. I’ll see you on the pitch in 5,” were his last words before disappearing behind the door.

Turning around to face your new team, you were welcomed with open arms - literally. In front of you, you found almost all the girls waiting to greet you, each pulling you into a hug and introducing themselves.

After you were done introducing yourself, you quickly changed. The warm welcome they gave you resulted in your heartbeat finally slowing down (maybe not to a normal pace, but considerably slower than when you arrived). Later, you would also realise that your hands had stopped shaking halfway through the training, filling your body with warmth, that felt like the sun thawing the frost off of colourful flowers on a warm spring morning.

Right now though, your shoulders slumped as you noticed that the forward you were most very thrilled to play alongside of, didn’t greet you (and if you weren’t imagining things, even sent a glare in your direction).

Shaking off those thoughts, you made your way to the pitch, walking next to Leah. “How are you feeling?” she questioned, looping her arm through yours.

“I’m literally shitting my pants,” you chuckled, “but I’m also excited to play in this amazing team like, I don’t know, I feel like I can learn so much from you.”

Leah waved you off, “Don’t worry, you’re gonna be just fine and I have a feeling it’s gonna be the other way around.” When you felt the blonde’s hand ruffling your hair, you jokingly pushed her away, muttering about how you were going to get back at her.

And that you did. The end of the training came with a scrimmage, in which Leah and you were on opposite teams. Getting the ball from Lotte, you quickly made your way towards their goal and consequently came face to face with the blonde defender. Before she could do much, you nutmegged her and sent the ball straight to the far post, Alessia scoring a goal with a beautiful header.

Fidgeting with your sleeves, you turned to your friend with a sheepish laugh, “Sorry, I just don’t like people messing up my hair.” Chuckles coming from the girl instantly relaxed you as she patted your shoulder, “That was a nice play.”

Heat crawled into your cheeks as you muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and made your way back to your side.

Sadly, not everyone took the scrimmage as light-hearted as Leah. With the frustration growing after each goal your team scored, the game quickly became physical. You would feel the wrath of that a few moments later.

Running along the sideline, you were just about to send another ball into the penalty box when you felt cleats connecting with your ankle and your legs being swept from under you.

You let out a groan as you held your foot, trying to stand up. Rotating your ankle a bit, you attempted to take a few wobbly steps, the new blonde forward approaching you, “Are you all right? That looked like it hurt.”

“No, it’s fine, I just have to walk it off.”

Limping a few metres, you felt the pain slowly subside and glanced at the girl that had tackled you. Not seeing her making any moves to apologise nor a glimpse of remorse on her face, a crease formed between your eyebrows, wondering why Katie was acting this cold towards you.

When the game continued with you, in particular, being the one the Irish woman directed her fury at, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest grew. That was why, when Leah and you were collecting the balls that had been shot to god knows where, you inquired, “Does Katie not like me?”

“No, what makes you think that?”

Putting the last ball into the bag you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, I just feel like she has it out for me, you know?”

“Hm, it looked like she was already in a lousy mood before you came in, so she probably just had a bad day. I’m sure yous will hit it off tomorrow,” consoled the blonde with a comforting touch to your arm.

Alas, it didn’t seem to get better the next day.

Being on the receiving end of her tackles once again, this time even from the beginning of the training session, your patience was wearing thin. Your dislike for conflict made you keep quiet though, not wanting to cause drama on your second day and because no one else said anything, you just presumed that it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

After a particularly gruesome duel, where Katie had stepped onto your feet multiple times, you couldn’t push your agitation down anymore, the anger bubbling inside of you like an active volcano, fiery red lava spewing out of your mouth, “Okay, what the fuck did I do to you? Why do you hate me?”

Surprised at hearing your angry voice directed at her, the Irish woman turned around with a scoff, “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you did.”

“I don’t, I wouldn’t be asking if I did, Sherlock.”

You watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head before she turned around and marched to her position. Feeling a presence behind you, you tried to get your whirring thoughts under control, “Everything alright?”

Pulling your shoulders to your ears and letting them drop again, you returned, “Yeah, I’m not so sure about her not hating me, though,” eliciting a frown on the blonde’s face.

Unfortunately, for you two and for everyone who had to hear your petty arguments, you were paired up with Katie on one of the gym days.

For the most part, everything was fine. Even though the Irish woman couldn’t help but follow a few drops of sweat that rolled down your abs with her grey eyes, which sparked her irritation, wondering how she could be thinking about a person like you like that, you two didn’t exchange any words.

That is until you were supposed to spot Katie. Padding over to her waiting by the bench press, you thought about how you could finally relax for a moment after all the tiring exercises you had to go through.

Boy, how wrong you were.

Standing at the head of the bench you had a perfect view of Katie doing her tasks. It felt like a magnet being pulled to the strongest metal, the way your eyes were glued to the forward’s arms. Not knowing what hit you, you couldn’t pull your gaze away from the heavenly sight.

Katie noticing your dazed expression, rolled her eyes with a smirk, before an idea formed in her head. Pretending to lose her grip on the weight, she laid it down on her chest and let out struggling breaths.

After she tried to get your attention with faux breathless words, you suddenly jumped out of your stupor and quickly lifted the weight off of her.

“Do you want to kill me?!”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you mumbled, regret filling your voice as you looked down sheepishly.

Shaking her head the brunette enjoyed teasing you further, “You can’t do anything, can you?”

“I said I was sorry, relax.”

Across the room, Leah and Alessia were watching the scene unfold with confusion written over their faces, “Where did this weird tension even come from? It looks like they want to kill and fuck each other at the same time.”

“I don’t know,” Leah responded, “but I think we need to separate them or one of those two things will happen any minute now.”

These little quarrels eventually developed into a common component of Arsenal’s training sessions, even being present outside of them, like on team bonding nights.

All the girls were gathered at Leah’s house to watch a few movies and just enjoy each other’s company. Everything was fine until Katie got up from the couch to get another drink for herself. During that time you arrived at the blonde’s flat, having had an appointment before, and unknowingly sat down at the spot that was previously occupied by none other than the fiery winger.

When she strolled back into the living room and saw exactly who had stolen her spot, the brunette let out an annoyed sigh. Making her way towards you, she stopped in front of your frame, “Did you make it your personal life goal to annoy me whenever you can, or what?”

Only being met by you looking at her with those stupid eyes and your stupid button nose and a stupid mischievous grin on your face, she scoffed, “Move out of my seat, you knob.”

About to stand up, you felt a few drops of something land in your lap, which made you look up only to see the brunette raising her eyebrow, “Oh no, I’m so sorry, I guess my glass was too full.”

“Tell me, Katie, is it hard being such a relentless asshole, or does it come naturally to you?” you sent her a fake smile, before moving to the other side of the room, not before jamming your shoulder into hers though.

Before Katie could retaliate, Beth let out a tired sigh, “Girls, can we just enjoy the movie now?”, gaining agreeing mumbles from everyone else.

It all came to a head when Katie tackled Alessia, who you had grown very close to in the last two months and now considered one of your best friends.

You were running along the sideline, waiting for Alessia to pass the ball, when you heard her outcry and immediately stopped. Hastily making your way to the blonde, you kneeled down and softly put your hand on her left leg, trying to calm her down, “Oh my god, Less, are you alright?”

“It hurts,” she groaned, still holding her foot.

“Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be fine, the medics are gonna be here in a second.”

Looking up when they arrived, you also saw the woman that had caused Alessia to fall to the ground.

Only seeing red, you stood up so fast you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash, shoving the brunette with both of your arms, “What the hell is your problem?! You don’t get to just treat people like that, jackass!”

“What did you just say to me?” barked Katie as she invaded your personal space, your faces only a breath apart, meaning you could see the vein on her forehead popping out and almost smoke coming from her ears.

“You heard me, McCabe,” taking one last step towards her, your foreheads touching, you poked your index finger into her chest, “stop playing like a fucking hazardous idiot and go apologise to her right now! I know you hate me and you can come at me all you want, be my guest, but if you ever hurt her again, I’ll break your goddamn kneecaps!” Your chest heaved up and down with the rage inside of you, “Stay. The fuck. Away. From her,” punctuating each word with a jab of your finger, you gave her one last push before turning back to Alessia still laying on the ground.

With it being the last training before the first match, it wasn’t a surprise when the atmosphere was a bit tense.

So, when you accidentally bumped into the one and only Katie McCabe, because the exercise had you all running backwards, and somehow landed on top of her, her snappy remark came almost instantly, “Watch where you’re going and get the fuck off of me.”  

Putting your hands on either side of her head, you started to pull yourself up, scoffing at her overdramatic reaction, “Go take a walk and calm down, babes.”

As she quickly stood up and pushed up against your body with her glowering eyes, that reminded you of the sea after a terrible storm, the gray rolling clouds reflecting onto the almost-blue surface of the water, her intoxicating scent invading your nostrils only infuriating you further, “Why don’t you take a walk back to Barcelona?”

Having had enough of this constant back and forth, you raised both of your arms and let them fall back to your sides, “What’s your goddamn problem?!”

“You! And don’t try your stupid innocent act on me, you know exactly what you did.”

Seeing the frown on your face, Katie continued, “Unless you’re gonna admit it, you can take your shit-talking self elsewhere.”

“God, you’re so full of yourself, I’m not gonna kiss your ass and apologise for something I didn’t even do!”

“Are yo- ”

She was interrupted by Leah separating you two, “Let’s take a deep breath, ladies.” Still glaring at one another you two slowly parted ways.

The locker room was buzzing with everyone’s excitement for Arsenal’s first game of the season, excited chatter coming from every corner. As you were all about to enter the pitch for warm ups, Jonas appeared, “McCabe, Y/L/N, a minute, please.”

He waited for the other girls to leave before addressing you, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to get it together,” his tone emphasising his disappointment. “When I made you the offer, Y/N, I thought you two would come together as a fantastic offense, because I know Katie has wanted to be winger again for a long time now and your styles and techniques just compliment each other perfectly,” the words causing you to look at your shoes shamefully.

“Now I know that you can destroy Liverpool’s defense out there but in order to do that, I need you two to work together, okay?” he looked to the two women in front of him expectantly, causing both of them to nod, his last words only making them repeat the motion, “And if you pull anything like the the shit that went down yesterday, you’re instantly being subbed off, understood?”

Jonas’ words apparently made something inside the both of you switch. Throughout the whole game, Katie and you seemed to link up every chance you could and waltzed through Liverpool’s defense like a hazard. Even when you were behind the Irish woman, she could somehow feel your presence and get the ball to your feet. You had to admit that playing with Katie when you were both working together felt amazing, giving the impression of flying over the pitch.

Even though the game went as well as it did, you went back to being at each other’s throats afterwards.

The snarky comments exchanged in the locker room extinguishing any hope your teammates had that you would at least be civil now.

One day at lunch in the team cafeteria, Katie couldn’t help but let her gaze float towards her self-appointed enemy.

Watching as you laughed with Alessia, made her thoughts run wild. Why would you say that about her? And why was she so bugged by it, when she normally just let the nasty comments brush past her without giving them a second glance?

A fork dropping to the floor startled her, making her eyes flick towards the direction the sound came from. She could see Alessia leaning down to pick it up and noticed you putting your hand between the blonde’s head and the edge of the table, efficiently sparing the forward an uncomfortable collision with the table.

This wasn’t the first time, the brunette picked up on your kindness. All the other times, for example, you staying behind and helping the staff clean up or you giving the girl you’d walked onto the pitch with your jacket, making her wonder why you were treating her so differently.

The heavy feeling in her gut made a crease form between Katie’s eyebrows. Turning to her right she questioned the captain of England’s national team, “Why is she literally the nicest human being to everyone but me?”

“Hmm, let me think, maybe because you’ve been nothing but mean to her since day one?” spoke the blonde after tapping her chin with a faux thoughtful face that turned into an ‘are you kidding me’ look.

Grumbling and stabbing her food with her fork she retorted, “She started it.”

“What do you mean? There’s not a bad bone, not even a bad cell, in that girl’s body.”

“Well, when I came in on her first day, I heard her talking to someone and she was saying pretty nasty things about me,” Katie claimed with a defeated tone.

A confused look crossed Leah’s face, “Are you sure it was her? What did she say?”

Thinking back to said day, she tried to get the words together, “Yes, I’m a hundred percent sure, and she was saying something like ‘McCabe is way too aggressive, all she does is get cards and she just isn’t good’ and I don’t know, normally I don’t really care about what people say about me, but I was just so excited to play with her and-”

“Are you serious?!”, exclaimed the blonde incredulously.

“What?”

“Did you listen to her until the end?”

Grimacing, Katie replied, “No, why would I? So that I could hear more of her borderline offensive comments?”

Fishing for her phone in her pocket, Leah grunted, “I can’t believe you sometimes, you useless lesbian.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Irish woman starting to feel lost now, as her friend put her phone down in front of her, a video playing.

Scanning the screen she could see the title of said video ‘Y/N Y/L/N’s first Arsenal interview’ and the fog in her brain only thickened. Then she heard a voice behind the camera, “So, what are you most excited about?”

You smiled nervously, fiddling with the rings on your finger,  “Uhm, I’m really excited to play with this team cause their style is so different and I just think, uh, I can learn a lot from these amazing girls.”

“And who are you most excited to play with?”

“Oh, that’s easy, Katie McCabe,” you told the interviewer animatedly, “many people might say like ‘Oh, McCabe isn’t good. She’s borderline reckless and very petulant, plays way too aggressively and all she does is collect cards for her team’,” you imitated while doing air quotations.

“But I’m like, have you seen this girl play? It’s amazing to watch and maybe she’s a bit more physical but it’s working, isn’t it? I don’t know, I just think it’s very admirable and just so unique cause you don’t see a lot of people playing like that, you know? Sorry, I’m rambling,” you chuckled with rosy cheeks.

The blonde taking her phone back, brought Katie back to the real world. The realisation of what she had done came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks.

She hid her face behind her hands before she muttered ashamedly, “I’ve just really been an arsehole to her this whole time for no reason, haven’t I?”

“Yup, you have,” Leah patted her on the shoulder consolingly, “but I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you apologise.”

“Well, here goes nothing.”

When you heard footsteps approaching your table, you looked up from your plate to come face to face with the most infuriating person you knew, “Hey Y/N, could we maybe talk for a minute?”

Expecting her to start another fight, you couldn’t hide your surprise. “Uhm, sure I guess,” you told her as you got up to follow her out of the crowded room, shooting Alessia a confused look and only getting a shrug in response.

You arrived outside and when she stopped, you let your gaze study the woman in front of you. With her head down and her hands fidgeting, your eyes caught a sight you never would’ve thought to see. Used to her confident and feisty persona, you were astounded when you heard her speaking in a voice softer than you’d ever heard it before.

Trying to calm herself down, Katie took one last deep breath, before rising her eyes to meet your questioning ones, “I know you hate me and that this will not make up for the horrible way I’ve treated you and the awful things I’ve said, but I still want to apologise and explain why I acted the way I did.”

Your eyes widened as you took in her words and noticed that she looked to be on the verge of crying, so you sent her an encouraging smile, which she gratefully reciprocated.

“God, this is gonna sound so dumb,” she put one hand on her forehead and the other on her hip and continued, “Uhm, you remember your first day?” You nodded your head. “Well, I came in when you had your interview and I may have overheard a bit of what you were saying, only it was just a snippet of what you actually said, so I got the impression that you hated me, which I hope I didn’t make true, because I walked away before I could hear the rest of your answer.”

“I was just so excited to be able to play with you that I felt devastated after hearing your words, and I don’t really know why I did what I did but I just want you to know that I’m very very sorry, I truly am. When Leah showed me the whole video, I felt like the biggest fool ever. I know that this doesn’t excuse my behaviour but I hope you can forgive me and if not, I totally understand! Just tell me and I won’t get in your way until the end of time,” spoke Katie with her voice wavering on a few words.

The melodious sound of your laugh is what breaks her eye contact with the floor. Perplexed, she looked at you, trying to make out what your reaction meant.

“Sorry,” you let out another chuckle, “this is just the most rom-com movie type of shit I’ve ever experienced.”

You could see the girl in front of you visibly relax at your words, her shoulders finally dropping and letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

“And I should also apologise, it was wrong of me to treat you the way I did, especially because I just joined and don’t really know what everyone’s like and I also shouldn’t’ve provoked you like that and said the things I did, so yeah, I’m sorry too. I hope we can move past this,” seeing the hopeful glint in your shimmering eyes, Katie herself felt something inside of her spark.

With a thrilled smile, the Irish woman held her hand out as she proposed, “Friends?”

A beaming grin broke out on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your tummy, you nodded giddily and pulled the woman into a tight hug. Your arms wrapped around her back as she leaned up to snake hers around your neck, squeezing tightly.

The warmth that encompassed you couldn’t even compare to drinking a hot chocolate under your fluffy blankets with your favourite movie playing on a snowy winter night.

The following weeks were filled with Katie and you spending more and more time together. One particular day, Katie couldn’t keep her eyes nor her thoughts off of you.

It all started with her struggling to get a glass that had been placed on one of the higher shelves in the cafeteria.

She had been trying to reach the goddamn thing for at least two minutes now and was just about to give up, when she felt the heat of a body behind her. Before she could turn around, the person took one last step towards her, their front touching Katie’s back, and reached out to hand her the item she had been failing to grasp.

If the familiar smell of your vanilla scent wasn’t enough of an indication of who exactly was pressing their body (a very fit one at that, if Katie’s sinful thoughts were anything to go by) against hers, your teasing voice definitely was, “You know, I’ve always wondered, has anyone ever mistaken you for being in middle school before?”

Ripping the glass out of your hand with a glare on her face the brunette retorted, “Fuck you.”

“Don’t mind if you do.”

Seeing her dumbfounded expression only caused your smirk to spread across your whole face, enjoying the sight of the usually confident woman trying to hide the heat rising up her cheeks and squirming in her place.

You found her flushed face extremely adorable, so there was nothing else to do but squish her cheeks between your hands - and that’s exactly what you did.

With you still squishing her warm face you exclaimed, “Aww, aren’t you the cutest?”

Slapping your hands away, she grumbled something unintelligible and turned on her spot, strutting back to her table. The laughter coming from you (which still put a slight grin on her face) didn’t help her face cool down, making the teasing from Leah inevitable.

“If you two don’t get together soon, I’ll lock you in my basement until you do, I just can’t watch this anymore.”

Katie already knew the comment would irk her, so she didn’t try to resist herself, “You don’t have a basement.”

“I don’t care, I’ll find something else to lock you in!”

A few hours later, her lack of concentration led to another incident involving you. She wasn’t paying attention for a minimum of two minutes (her thoughts being on anything but the exercise) when she collided with someone.

Tumbling to the ground, she grunted at the impact of the floor and the person landing on top of her. As soon as she saw who was almost laying on top of her, every last complaint flew right out of her head.

She looked up at your eyes to find them slightly creased at the edges, “I thought we would stop meeting like this, since we’re friends now,” you laughed.

“Maybe I just like having you on top of me,” retorted the girl laying on the ground, sending you a wink, which allowed Katie to see your eyes roll into the back of your head, as you jokingly swatted her arm and walked away.

It was her last straw though, when you two were the last ones in the locker room and you pulled a box out of your bag, “Oh, I almost forgot! I made these blueberry muffins cause you said you haven’t had any in a long time and they were always your favourite.”

You handed her the box and she sent you a grateful smile, the butterflies in her stomach awakening, “That’s really nice, thank you, Y/N!”

You waved her off with a ‘No problem’ and trudged back to your bag to continue changing.

Remembering what you had wanted to add, you snapped your finger, “Also they’re glutenfree so your niece can have some if she wants! She’s coming to yours tomorrow, right?”

The butterflies reappearing with what felt like twice the power, Katie’s whole body was overflowed with a warm tingly feeling as she realised that you had remembered every little detail.

Lost for words, the Irish woman just stared at you from across the room. Unaware of the watching eyes trained on you, you took of your shirt.

On the other side, Katie stood, still in a daze from your kind gesture, and now unable to look away from your almost uncovered upper body. The way the sweat glistened on your toned abs enchanting her with a seemingly unbreakable spell. When she broke out of her stupor, she strode over to you with quick steps.

Hearing the hurried footsteps approaching, you turned around alarmed, “Wha-”

Before you could get out another word, the smaller woman had pushed you against the wall behind you, and like the oceans being pulled towards the moon, your lips found one another.

If before Katie had butterflies, she could now feel a whole zoo dancing in her tummy, a kind of warmth overtaking her that she’d never felt before. When the woman’s soft lips caressed yours, your heart stopped for a moment before picking up at double its pace.

Warm hands landed on your bare waist, pushing you further against the wall and impossibly closer together, you felt the thud of your combined heartbeats getting quicker with every second your lips were connected.  

Your hands quickly found themselves tangled in her brunette hair and when you slightly pulled on it, Katie let out a raspy groan against your lips, sending tingles shooting from your fingers to your toes, the smell of her perfume dizzying you further.

Pulling away and getting a short breath of air into her lungs, you fisted her jersey in your palms and yanked her back, her lips landing on the silky pillow that was your mouth.

Just feeling the careful swipe of her tongue on your bottom lip, you breathed out a blissful sigh before being forced apart by the need for oxygen.

Your eyes were still closed as you felt Katie’s breath wavering across your face, “Why didn’t we do that earlier?”

Finally looking at her, you were enthralled by the sight before you. Katie McCabe with messy hair, rosy cheeks, a dazed look in her dazzling eyes and her swollen red lips slightly parted would be the death of you.

“I don’t know but we need to make up for lost time,” declared the brunette with a dreamy smile and pulled you back in by your waist.

[holidaywishes]

a hard loss

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: uhm i don’t know if your requests are open i’m sorry if they’re not but i would love a fic where auston has like a really shitty loss and he’s pissed and you just get absolutely railed 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Warning: smut, really basic dirty talk, pretty self-explanatory I think 😊

Author's Note: This one was from an anon WAYYYYY back, so hopefully they find it and are still interested lol. I'm sorry it's taken so long but life gets in the way of things sometimes. Anyway! Here is this little fic. Enjoy! Also, part four of Hate Sex is finally up so find that and enjoy it, if you want 😜 <- you can tell how long it's been since I wrote this because Hate Sex part four has been up for a while now 😂

Fun Fact: I started writing this in the back of an Uber almost a year ago now and only had time to follow through with it now 😅, so I apologize for the long wait but hey! we got something lol.

masterlist

the other masterlist

xx

They made it to the playoffs again. But you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop because, well, it’s Toronto. It didn’t take long and Auston came over to your house in a fuming rage

“Okay, let’s take a breath before we break something” you said calmly when he flung open your door to let himself in

“Take a breath? Did you see what the fuck happened?” He shouted

“Honestly?” you winced, “no.”

“Seriously?!”

“I was working! I couldn’t watch the game,” you admitted, “I’m sorry. I heard it was rough though”

“Gee, thanks for the update”

“Auston, sit down,” you shook your head, gesturing to the sectional beside him. You understood why he was so worked up, they would always get so close before ultimately coming up short; you felt bad for him but you didn’t know what to say to make him feel better. “What do you need?” was all you could think to ask

“What?” he questioned, leaning his elbows on his knees and dropping his head to hands briefly

“I don’t know what to say to make you feel better so,” you continued, “is there something I can do?” He smirked as he corrected his posture, bringing you between his legs silently

“Oh there’s definitely something you can do” his smirk grew to a grin while his hands gripped your ass and his face buried in your chest. Of course, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes when his head was down.

Sex. It’s always that simple.

You placed your forefinger under his chin to lift it, catching his lustful stare once his eyes found yours. The moment was charged but you decided to take it slow, taking your time removing his shirt and kissing his neck as you undid the button of his pants, unzipping the zipper almost tauntingly. Auston had other plans. He tore off your shirt and nearly ripped off your fleece shorts before pushing you onto the couch; your eyes grew wide as his narrowed. He kissed you harshly as his hand pushed down your underwear and your body jerked toward him. He let his hand slowly move up your thigh while your breathing increased, your chest moving up and down at the sensation he was giving you. When you finally caught his eye again, you could tell from his smirk that this wasn't going to be a "romantic" night, it's not what he needed - this was all about letting off steam - so you grabbed his shoulders to pull yourself up onto his lap and took at least one small moment of sweetness before you were bent over the back of the couch. Your back arched as he pulled your hair and thrust into you quickly, his moans louder with each intense push while you gripped the couch to steady yourself.

“Fu-uck” you screamed out, voice catching as his thrusts grew harder and his hands moved from your hair to grab your hips. You felt his nails digging into your skin as you pushed back into him,

“You like that?” Auston said breathlessly as your moans turned to whines as you took all of him in, “take it, my little slut.” You weren’t one for dirty talk and neither was Auston, so his words took you a bit by surprise, leading you to attempt to turn your head to face him before he slapped your ass harshly; you let out a yelp coated in pleasure and his pace increased again once more. The sound of spanking echoed through your living room and Auston would continue his dirty talk, “fuck yeah, take my big cock you dirty slut”

“Fuck me,” was all your mind could come up with to say in return but it led Auston to grab your hair again and pulled your back to his chest, his hand then moved to your neck as the two of you moved in tandem, breathing harshly, before you looked into his eyes, hand lightly against his that was resting on your neck, “harder, daddy,” you finally said as you allowed his hand to tighten around your throat. You kept your eyes trained on him as best you could while he choked and fucked you from behind.

“That’s it, baby, keep looking at me,” he said with a smirk, his voice rough like a growl, “I want you to look at me as I make you cum.” His grip never got too tight around your neck which allowed your head to lob back onto his shoulder and your hands to reach back to his waist, keeping your bodies close so that the sensations of him inside of you could be intense for the both of you. Your eyes drifted away from his for a second and he tightened his grip around your neck and increased his thrusts just enough to grab your attention one last time, “I said keep looking at me.” Your pleasure grew more with each tug at your throat and each movement of your hips into his.

“Fuck,” you breathed, eyes still locked on his, “cum with me. Fuck, baby I’m coming.” Your eyebrows moved together as you struggled to keep your eyes on Auston as he requested and your moans took over as his grip around your throat tightened for a moment while he came inside you. He kissed your neck gently before kissing down your back and turning you around to face him, picking up his shirt along the way to wrap it around you as if to return to the gentle man you knew him to be

“Was that okay?” He blushed, holding your hands in his and you smiled shyly

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “of course it was okay, was it not okay for you?”

“I mean the words,” he clarified, “you know I don’t think of you that way right? Like a.. slut” his hesitation led you to place your hand on his cheek and kiss his lips softly

“I know, baby,” you smiled, “it was in the moment”

“I love you” he added, bringing you to sit on the couch as he kissed your shoulders and your cheeks

“I love you, too” you smiled, bringing his face to yours to kiss him slowly before thinking to yourself ��maybe this was how losses should always be handled…’

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi! I like you, you seem so cool. Such a vibe.

So, i might end up writing this eventually BUT the writers block has locked barricaded and blown up any entrance to writing anything beyond poetry for the past numerous months and, honestly, I don't think she (gn) is willing to open up. We've gone to therapy. But she just says she needs time. 🙄 . ANYWAYS, I had this idea, right? Reader and a Yautja who are mates/soulmates, and he is NOT for it. Big no no time. Shuts them down and pushes them away. Thing is, while the pull towards them is intense for him, he doesn't realize that for humans it's, like, a painful experience. They can go a bit without being near their soulmate once they find them, but months? *years*?? Eventually he goes back to earth and something pulls him to go check in them and finds them an absolute wreck. Chronic pain, maybe some of that ✨️classic substance abuse✨️, and absolutely heartbroken because their *soulmate* didn't even want them.

And... that's where the little writer part of my brain walks away.

Anyways, maybe one day I'll write this, but the ADHD part of my brain wants the gratification my writer part just isn't interested in entertaining.

I'd love to see your twist on it, if you'd be interested! If not, I get it (not every request peaks our interest and that's valid, but thought I'd share).

P.S. I just heard an owl for the first time in AGES. Really cool.

Are We Meant to be?

Pairing: Yautja x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2031

Summary: On a walk home from work in a city that wasn't friendly, you stupidly decide to take a shortcut. A shortcut that could cost you your life...

Author Note: Thank you! I'm glad I have good vibes! I might be falling into writers block... Towards the end, it was hard to figure out what to write but I hope this is good for you! I wanted to give you a start so you can finish it yourself!

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2

When you find your soulmate, it’s said that fireworks go off in your stomach. Then, life is a happy fairytale afterwards. Both souls are drawn to each other by an invisible string. Over time, they’ll be pulled to one another until they meet. From there, life is filled with happiness and complete. You are at height of your life with your soulmate.

So why was the universe cruel to you?

In the concrete jungle that made up your city filled to the brim of people and constant death, you raced back to your little apartment. The minute place you’ve carved out for yourself in a city like this. Something told you to be here, to stay here, no matter what happens. Just a tiny feeling in your cold, hope-filled heart. Maybe, just maybe your soulmate was here. So you endured the life you’ve created here and waited.

Waited for that faithful day they would stumble across your path and boom! Fireworks.

This was a bad idea, your brain shouted as you turned into a dark ally. It was a short cut that would shave off about five minutes. Five minutes closer to your studio apartment. Or lose your life.

A dark figure stepped out from the shadows. In the limited light, you see the way a blade reflects. Shit. Cursing internally, you skid to a stop and started to walk backwards towards the safety of the public street. But footsteps behind you had you pausing where you stood. More curses flew around in your brain as any logical thought.

Nothing needed to be said as you stared down the figure before you. This wasn’t unusual for a city like this. They wanted money, your money. Yet, you didn’t have much on you to offer. Probably only two dollars and nineteen cents in your pocket. Definitely not enough to quell them.

Before you had a chance to even inhale and speak, the person before you collapsed to the ground with nothing but little more than a squeak. A hunking form towering over his crumbled body. Your jaw dropped at the size of this figure. Your heart stutter in its bony cage as you were pinned to the spot like your shoes were welded there.

The string in your chest yanked hard directly in front of you. Your eyes couldn’t expand anymore at the feeling.

With nothing more but a breeze, the shadow zipped past you. You spun around to keep an eye on whatever had attacked your own attackers. Now that it was closer to the street lamps, you were able to pick up flashes of what it looked like. Yet, your brain couldn’t comprehend who this figure that moved in a blink of an eye was. You’ve never seen anyone move like that before. It couldn’t be possible.

A sick snapping echoed through the alleyway that had you tensing. The second attacker fell to the ground, unmoving. Finally, your shoes unpolarized from the dirty concrete but stepped away from the towering form that casted a long shadow. The head barely touching the tips of your toes. You swallow thickly and ignored the way your heart pounded heavily. It wanted freedom, wanted to rip out and go towards it.

He lifted his head. What could you see were long, thick… dreads? swaying as he shook his head. Metal, shining ornaments were attached to them. His form, larger than any man you’ve met before stood there. Only one arm moving, bending at the elbow. You couldn’t see what he was doing. You felt a fluttering feeling in your chest.

The figure whipped around with a snarl that echoed back at you. All you could see was emotionless eyes before it was upon you.

Your back slammed into the brick wall but a hand cushioned the back of your head. A gasp tore from your throat then your vision settled to take in the sight. He had pounced on you, pinned you to the alleyway wall, all the while breathing heavily. A hand had captured your neck, to ensure you stayed there, trapped.

Even with the knowledge this unknown figure might had just killed two people, your body was warm, lax underneath him. Your brain should’ve been screaming danger of the situation but all it sung was safety. A melody you couldn’t tell was true or not from the logical side of your brain. Yet, you couldn’t dispute the hot flash of an connection that struck you deep in your stomach at just his touch.

“Y-you…” he forced out in a guttural, gravely voice. This close to him, you realize he was wearing a mask, metal by the looks of it. “Not po-possible.” Your brows furrowed at his barely audible words. What did he mean?

Timidly, you reached out and rested your palm on his chest. He was incredibly hot, temperature wise. You felt a sort of netting there. He hissed, like a cat, and slipped the hand behind your head to snatch your wrist. It was pinned above your head. “No.” It was hard to understand what he was saying.

Not an ounce of fear entered your body as he continues to pin you there. Yet, your voice was caught behind a lump. So many questions fluttered around inside of your head but all you could do was stare into the emotionless eyes of his mask.

As if you had burned him, he ripped himself away from you within a blink of any eye. It left you feeling unsteady and almost falling to the ground. You saw for a moment he reached out to help you before letting the limb fall to his side.

Then, he was gone. In a small flash of blue, his form disappeared completely. Yet, you could feel him standing there, like a ghost to haunt you.

The walk home was confusing.

…

Blaring noises, inundated scents. Everything that a newly blooded would not be able to handle. Through the thick of it, the hunter waited in the shadows for the perfect moment. His ears picking up every little noise yet filtering them until he felt a pull. This pique his interest. A feeling he’s never felt before. His eyes closed as it persisted inside of him, his chest tightening.

A huff sounded from his mask he stood up, long legs stretching after being in a crouch position for so long. The Yautja cracked his neck a couple of times before beginning his trek through the concrete jungle. He allowed the tug to guide him over buildings as if he back on his home planet. It took him from one side of the city hundreds of thousands of oomans resided in all the way to the other side.

All of his moves were smooth, agile. He knew where and how to land before he was going to. His body going through the motion like a thousand times beforehand. His feet never making a sound. His breaths steady, confident. He loved this, the movement, the rise of adrenaline. That extra energy that filled his system.

The pads of his feet let him land silently on the edge of a building. The pull taking his straight down. He stopped and peered over the edge… to find three measly oomans. The heavy scent of fear permeated the air. He drank in the smell and watched the scene unfold before his bright eyes.

At the sight of ooman between the two male had his quills bristling at the sight. With his cloak deactivated, the Yautja stepped off from the edge. His entire body landed on top of one ooman, simply crushing it underneath his feet like the scum it was. Its frame making a sickening sound he could care less about to think of.

He launched himself at the other ooman. No mercy. A hand wrapped around the ooman’s throat while the other wrapped around its head. Only an ounce of his strength was extruded as he snapped the neck of this low life. Its body dropped to the dirty floor of this noisy, death filled city.

Beneath the thick scales that covered his chest, a strange feeling bloomed. It was the same notion from before. Pulling him backwards. He raised a hand to graze over the spot, deep in thought.

A snarl ripped at his throat. He whipped around to face the only other living thing in this dark path. The biomask that covered his face scanned over the little ooman left in his presence. Weapons, nonthreatening, adorn its small body. He wasn’t intimidated by them. He could scoff at how unprotected it was in a place like this.

He was upon the ooman in a second, ramming them into a brick. One hand coming around to cradle the back of its head while the other swiftly encased your neck. The Yautja gave it no room for escape.

His entire body tensed as the feeling tenfolded, eyes widening behind his mask. He didn’t know what was happening. Unlike any other time he’s had a ooman in his grasp, you didn’t move, you were like water in his grasp.

Tales as old as time sprung to life in his mind. “Y-you,” he grumbled in the ooman’s dialect. It hurt his throat to speak the language but he wasn’t going to waste a translator on you. He couldn’t… couldn’t. His heart, his mighty heart pulled, fluttered even, at your proximity and touch. “Not po-possible.” He hated the ooman languages.

The ooman’s face turned sour with confusion. He watched as you raised a hand to his chest, where his heart beats. A hiss surged past his mandibles. With a hand, he snatched your wrist and pinned it above your head harshly. Hopefully, you would learn a lesson. Not a single waft of terror rolled from your tiny, fragile body.

It jerked at his heart harder. In an instant, the Yautja yanked himself away from you with disgust. Yet, the way you stumbled from the lack of a steady body to protect you, he moved to help you. Halfway through the motion, he paused, arms falling to his sides. He needed to leave. Now.

A simple button had his cloak reactivating and gone from your sight. His feet were cemented in place right before you. You could still feel him, standing there. He observed you after you finally ripped yourself from the wall and began the trek of wherever you were heading.

Like your shadow, he followed you. All the way, even as you opened a door to a dingey old building and up the stairs. The Yautja followed your every move even as you prepared for bed and laid down. He watched you struggle to find comfort, kicking, squirming, and shivering. The distress clearly evident. Strangely enough, he wanted nothing more to march into your room and comfort you. But, the Yautja stayed.

When he knew it was time to become homebound, the Yautja gave you one last look. Days in, days out, he’s been your shadow, observing your every move. For the fifteen rotations of your planet, he’s been there. He didn’t allow himself to be seen, by anyone. Including yourself. He was there though.

.

Sleeping was difficult. A struggle to find peace within the storm raging inside of you now. It felt a door had been opened and couldn’t be shut. You felt incomplete now. A distraught noise escaped your lips as you fulfilled your worthless job. You leaned heavily on the counter with a sigh, eyes shutting. All you saw through the darkness was flashes of that night.

The night were everything changed.

On the day afterwards, you took an unfortunate day off from work. As much as you needed the money, research was needed to be done. For the entire day, you searched through every article possible about soulmates. Everything. You also dug into anything that was close to whatever had… saved you. It had saved you then disappeared. But it left behind a feeling that was consuming you every thought.

Was this what it felt like to be abandoned? You whined at the thought and opened your eyes. Work needed to be done. If only you knew the consequences.

[blitzyn]

holy- the zhongli request is 🥹💝✨✨✨ idk if its possible but hoping for part 2 maybe when reader purposely didn't pass the exam. i love every word you write 😭🫶 have a nice day/night and stay safe!!

a different method pt.2

teacher!zhongli x m!reader

Synopsis: You were not expecting to end up on your knees when you failed the test.

part 1 | part 3

a/n -> HELP I THINK I GOT COVID AGAIN??? anyways super sorry this took an eternity to get out! also thank you all for 600 followers!

wc -> 1.8k

cw -> facefucking, shoe humping, semi-public, not proofread

"What am I going to have to do to make you take this class seriously?"

You blinked owlishly. It would be a lie to say you were completely expecting such an inquiry. Slightly tilting your head, you pondered your teacher's question. There wasn't much, really. But all of those options weren't significant enough to motivate you.

Reaching a quick conclusion, you shrugged your shoulders. "I dunno. A million Mora?"

He was not amused. With a sigh, he turned away from you and held your test. A somewhat large "40/100" was written on the top of the page in red ink. It obviously wasn't enough to improve your current grade, and might have even dropped it even further. If an F- was a thing, you were positive you'd have it. But, hey, at least it wasn't a zero! There was some effort.

"Did you even try?" Zhongli knows he's not supposed to ask questions like this because everyone learns at their own pace. But you made it nearly impossible for him to teach you. It wasn't even a hard test, either. Everyone managed to acquire a passing grade except for you.

"I mean. Kind of," you replied. You answered the questions you knew off the top of your head and left those that needed you to think. You were sure you could've passed if you put in a bit more effort. It truthfully was an easy test, but who actually tries in a class they don't even like? Not you, that's for sure.

"I noticed that the grades for your other classes are higher. Is there something you don't like me doing?" He seemed genuine. It almost made you feel bad.

"No. Everything's just so boring here." You shook your head. Crossing your arms, you looked around the room to curb your growing impatience to leave.

He hummed. "You're fidgeting quite a lot. Are you expecting something?"

You peered at him with a confused expression. But despite your bemused guise, yes, you were. You swallowed nervously. Was it really that obvious?

Maybe he doesn't know, yet.

"No?" you finally spoke. You mentally cursed the uncertain tone in your voice. Fuck.

"Really?" He beckoned you closer to him. As soon as you were within arm's reach, he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled you to him. "It seems to me you haven't forgotten about what happened two weeks ago. You purposely failed, didn't you?"

You tried to jerk away from him in a surprised panic. "What? No, I didn't!"

He had such a tight grip on your shirt you were briefly afraid that he might tear it. "Do not deny the blatant truth." His eyes flicked downwards. You followed his shameless gaze, surprised to see yourself hardening within the confines of your pants. You were too caught up trying to defend yourself you hadn't realized the intensifying warmth traveling through your veins.

Your mouth was left agape, mind blank and unable to forge an excuse. "I..."

Zhongli raised an expectant brow, waiting for the waterfall of words to pour out of your mouth in a futile attempt to save your dignity and pride, even when he knew it was unlikely. Perhaps that was your attempt?

He kept you at arm's length as he studied your heated face, which only made you squirm further. You could barely stand to look him in the eyes, locking gazes every so often before it was promptly broken to look elsewhere.

It's pitiful, he thought. But he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy your distress. With yet another hum, he used his free hand to pull you to your knees. You stared at him with a surprised expression as if this wasn't exactly what you wanted.

"Well? Go on," he said, leaning back against his chair. Nodding nervously, you removed his belt and unzipped his pants to pull out his cock. You could feel your mouth involuntarily watering at the sight. You flattened your tongue and gave a lick from base to tip. You gently sucked on the head before moving lower, stopping just before he reached your throat.

You relished in the deep groan he emitted, using it as encouragement to go faster. He was thick and made your jaw slightly ache, but he had yet to completely harden. You used the saliva that leaked through the corners of your mouth as a lubricant to jerk off what you couldn't get.

You softly moaned at the taste of his precum, the vibrations of your voice making his cock twitch. You hollowed your cheeks over the tip to gather more of it, but quickly dipped your head back down. You repeated the cycle a few more times until Zhongli deemed himself wanting more.

You looked up at him through your lashes when you noticed his arm rising toward your hair. The weight of his hand could have been mistaken as comforting if it weren't for the fact that his fingers tightly curled around your hair. You could feel your chest buzzing. It was a mix of anticipation, fear, and excitement.

You gagged when he pushed your head down, forcing you to swallow more of his cock. You instinctively tried to pull away, chest beginning to strain from your gags and the sudden lack of air. No matter how much you seemed to persist, it felt as if your strength was nothing compared to his.

You quickly realized this, and made yourself relax as much as you could. It was exhilarating to let him have his way with you, using your mouth without any regard toward your own comfort. You snaked a hand across your neck and lightly squeezed, cock throbbing within the confines of your pants when he let out a groan.

"This is what you're good at, isn't it?" His voice sounded strained. "Is this your way of raising your other grades? Letting your teachers use your mouth as they see fit?"

Of course not! You made a few sounds (though you mostly choked and gagged) in an attempt to reply. A mildly annoyed expression crossed over his face.

"You still don't know how to be quiet even when you're sucking my cock?" He pushed your head down as far as possible, your nose pressing against his pelvis. He held you there until your chest began to burn, desperate for air. The black spots that collected in the corners of your vision faded with each deep inhale. The tip of his cock rested on your tongue, though you sealed your lips around it every so often to swallow his precum.

You could feel him throb rhythmically when you held him in your hand again to lightly tap the head on your tongue. You peered up at his flushed face with a slight grin, and he had the mind to shove you back down. You began to jerk him off fervently as a heat swelled in his abdomen.

He tightly gripped the armrests of his chair and held himself back from thrusting into your fist. The flame of ecstasy intensified further and further until it finally enveloped him completely, hips lightly jutting upwards as cum spurted from his cock. He let out a long, deep groan as he tossed his head back.

You moved back over him to gather his cum in your mouth, gently using your tongue to help him prolong his orgasm and coax out more of his semen. It wasn't until he began to tug you off of him did you back away, licking cum off of your fingers.

You were briefly aware of the ache in your knees as you stared up at him expectantly, which prompted an eyebrow raise from him.

"What?"

"What about me?" You frowned. You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together in hopes of stimulation.

"You don't deserve it," he said. He internally smiled at your expression. "Especially not after your test score."

He shifted, trying to stand up to fix his appearance when you held onto his leg. His amber eyes met yours so full of ill-concealed desperation.

"Wait-!" You swallowed hard, surprised by your own need. "I-I'll do good next time. I promise! Just... just please let me cum. I'll take this class seriously."

"Tempting offer," he said, tilting his head in thought. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy treating you like this, but the main reason he was so irritated with you was because you refused to let him help you towards a better grade. He's not one to give up very easily, so he's willing to take your word for it just this once.

"Very well, then." He sat down on his chair and leaned back, pushing one of his legs towards you so his shoe pressed against your throbbing cock. You jolted at the sensation, completely underestimating just how horny you were. Electricity flowed through your body and left your skin feeling tingly and hot.

You felt like you could burst right then and there as you quickly began rubbing your clothed dick against the hard material of his shoe. Oh how pitiful you looked, trying to pull him closer to you as you thrust harder.

"Look at you." He had an amused undertone in his voice. "Grinding against me so desperately. You're just like a mutt in heat, aren't you?"

You had no will to retort, simply focused on reaching your orgasm. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, nearly breaking skin. You were very sensitive from ignoring your own pleasure earlier, and you were sure you weren't going to last much longer.

You let out a strained whimper when he straightened his foot, rubbing you with enough force for it to slightly hurt. You mumbled out curses and pleas towards no-one in particular and steadily grew louder the closer you got to your peak.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..." You cut yourself off with a moan, trembling as the burning sensation of euphoria overcame your senses. Your hips jolted with each pulse of pleasure that ran through you.

With a shaky sigh, you fell back onto your ass and steadily regained your breath. Good lord, that took more out of you than you thought. You grimaced when the patch of your cum slowly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sticky sensation that you were going to have to walk home with.

You peered up at Zhongli when he spoke, "I expect you to abide by your promise. I do not want to see any more F's in the immediate future."

You wearily nodded. "Yes, sir."

He studied you for a moment longer. "You seem to be driven at the thought of an orgasm."

Now, that caught your attention. You refocused and nearly broke out into an excited smile when he continued.

"Maybe if you pass the next test with a B or higher, I'll reward you."

[phantomrose96]

Oh okay so I have a Pikmin theory.

So for starters: Pikmin 1->2->3 are chronological. Pikmin 4 is a sort of AU of Pikmin 1, precedented on Olimar not making it off PNF-404 alive (sort of a bad-end of Pikmin 1, but also with various other AU differences).

This leads me to wonder... is Pikmin 4->2->3 arguably a canon sequence of events? Cuz either the differences between 1 and 4 have knocked canon off course, and as such 4 will never lead to 2 and 3. Or you can string them together in a way that makes 4->2->3 a plausible canonical chain.

The biggest thing that stands out to me is Louie. In 1->2->3, no one was ever sent to rescue Olimar in 1, and the second he arrives home in 2 his boss informs him that Louie was attacked ("attacked") by a space rabbit that ate the precious cargo of golden pikpik carrots, launching the company into massive debt (and he forces Olimar back to PNF-404 to treasure hunt to pay off the debt.) It's later revealed Louie was never attacked, and he ate the cargo himself.

In 4, LOUIE is sent to rescue Olimar. (He never does. He completely gives up because he forgot what Olimar looks like, and then becomes the biggest pain in your ass after YOU rescue Olimar, because Louie starts taking hostages and running from you insisting he never wants to leave PNF-404 for... some unclear reason?)

This feels like it could break 4->2->3 as a plausible canon, considering Louie is not home on Hocotate to eat his whole cargo (fucker). But I realized something.

Pikmin 4 starts more or less around when Olimar's life support runs out and he dies. You get his SOS signal not long at all before this happens. And TBH, it's probably a good additional in-game month in 4 before you actually rescue Olimar and encounter Louie. In a good-end run of Pikmin 1, Olimar needs to repair his ship and escape PNF-404 before his life support runs out. So in short: Louie fucks up the cargo sometime prior to Olimar's life support running out, and Pikmin 4 is set after his life support runs out. (Technically, they changed the amount of time his life support lasts between 1 and 4, but I figure that was to trim down Olimar's Tale in 4 and not actually for a canon reason).

My point being, Pikmin 4 being largely set after Olimar's life support runs out means Louie had plenty of time to fuck up the pikpik carrot cargo.

Then there's the fact that in Pikmin 4, Louie is desperate to STAY on PNF-404 for reasons he refuses to ever explain. Maybe, because, ya know, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knows he's responsible for plunging Hocotate Freight into what was essentially $10 million of debt. Louie doesn't want to be charged with $10 million worth of theft. And without Olimar bringing home the bottle cap, there's no plan for repaying that debt.

Louie maybe wants to stay on PNF-404 because he's not going the fuck to jail.

All this to say: I think 4->2->3 is actually a completely reasonable canon sequence, if you figure the "Louie lost (ate) the $10 million of golden pikpik carrots" happens in the background, right at the start of Pikmin 4 before Olimar's life support has run out. Olimar's SOS comes through, and President, desperate for his only competent employee back to help fix this, sends Louie to PNF-404 on a rescue mission. On PNF-404, Louie figures himself a fugitive who'd rather spend his days cooking bulborbs than ever return home to Hocotate to potentially face the music of his "this was definitely a felony" crime, and so he kicks and screams and fights to stay on PNF-404...

...And you drag him home anyway, along with poor rescued Olimar who's died and come back to life... just in time for their boss to be like "YOU idiots, go get me out of debt! Go back to PNF-404"

[aventurineswife]

Hi so i sent this but i dont think it sent so ill send it again so uh

I spent literally ALL WEEK GRINDING FOR MISTER BLOND MAN bcz i lost my fifty fifty to ugly dragon loli amd i just needed forty more pulls to garuantee him but guess what 😃

I accidentally pulled on friggin acherons banner and got her instead

So can you please help me cope by writing a fic where that happens to reader but aventurine buys her a bunch of jades so she can get him anyway? Because i need someone to do the for me. I need a stinking rich friend who will gamble for me in mobile games. And yes he knows hes in a game and breaking the fourth wall

Thank you

Also established relationship plz

P.S im still gonna try to get him wish me luck im SO demotivated but its whatever

Luck, Love, and a Thousand Jades

Summary: After the latest banner drop in HSR, you’re excited to pull for your favorite character, Aventurine. However, to your surprise, Aventurine appears in person, offering an overwhelming amount of in-game currency to ensure your reunion. As you summon him with his help, you marvel at the absurdity of it all.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Romance, Humor, Fictional Crush, Fluff, Surreal, Fourth Wall breaking, Bro is real somehow-

A/N: 💀I feel so bad for you bestie... I do hope you get Aventurine on his banner before it ends! Hope this fic will cheer you up!

The soft hum of your phone filled the cozy room as you sat cross-legged on the couch, your eyes glued to the screen. The banner for the latest update had just dropped, and the character you’d been pining for—Aventurine himself—was finally here. The dazzling image of his in-game model, with all its sharp edges and that maddening smirk, stared back at you, practically taunting you to pull.

“You’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” you muttered, debating whether to throw your measly stash of resources into the gacha abyss or exercise patience for once in your life.

“I’d say you have a better chance of hitting a jackpot than summoning me with that pitiful pile,” a voice drawled behind you.

Your heart jumped into your throat, the phone nearly slipping from your grasp as you whirled around to see him—Aventurine. Not the 2D version on your screen, but the real deal.

Or, at least, the closest thing to it. He stood in the doorway of your living room, hair perfectly tousled, those impossibly vibrant eyes glinting with amusement. The overcoat, the spade-shaped chest window, even the roulette detailing—he looked exactly like his character model, down to the smirk that never seemed to leave his lips.

“Wait, what?” you sputtered, looking between him and your phone. “What are you doing here? How—”

“Ah, ah,” he interrupted, holding up a hand to stop the inevitable spiral of questions. “You’ve already accepted that I’m aware of the... meta circumstances surrounding my existence. Let’s not waste time rehashing the impossible.” He sauntered toward you, the soft click of his polished shoes against the floor making you wonder just how far your suspension of disbelief could stretch. “What I do find curious is why you, my supposed significant other, have yet to summon me.”

Your jaw dropped. “First of all, you’re the hardest character in the game to pull for. Do you have any idea how low the pull rates are? Second, I don’t have enough jades!”

Aventurine chuckled, perching himself on the armrest of the couch beside you. “Darling, do you honestly think I’d let a little thing like odds stand between us?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek, gold-accented wallet. “Allow me to... invest in our reunion.”

Your eyes widened as he handed you what could only be described as a literal mountain of jades. The shimmering gems appeared in a neat pile on your phone screen as if by magic.

“Where did you even get those?” you asked, utterly baffled.

“Do you really want to know?” he teased, leaning closer until his face was just inches from yours. “Let’s just say, being one of the Ten Stonehearts comes with its perks.”

You stared at the screen, the obscene number of jades practically begging to be spent. “This... this is too much. I can’t just—”

“Of course, you can,” he interrupted smoothly, his gloved hand gently tilting your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. “Consider it an investment in my ego. After all, how could I possibly allow anyone else to steal your attention?”

You hesitated for a moment longer before sighing. “Fine. But if I don’t get you in the first ten pulls, I’m blaming you.”

“Blame me all you like, darling,” he replied with a wink. “I’ve always had a penchant for high-stakes gambles.”

With a resigned smile, you hit the summon button, the familiar animation spinning across your screen. The first few pulls were a flurry of three-star items and a character you already had, but then—

Gold.

The distinctive glow of a five-star pull lit up the room, and there he was, sitting on his red velvety sofa, looking smug on your screen.

“Well, well,” Aventurine said, his voice full of mock surprise. “It seems fate has finally smiled upon you.”

You turned to him with an incredulous laugh. “You bought fate! This isn’t even fair!”

“Fairness is for those who can’t manipulate the odds,” he said with a smirk, pulling you into a playful embrace. “Now, don’t you think it’s time to show your gratitude? Perhaps dinner, on me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his warmth. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably charming, intelligent, and generous,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, shall we celebrate your victory—and my unparalleled generosity?”

As absurd as the situation was, you found yourself smiling. After all, not everyone could say their fictional crush had crossed dimensions just to spoil them with virtual currency. With Aventurine, life was always a gamble—but it was one you’d happily take every time.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

New Year, new us

Tommy and Grace fic

________________________________________________

“I thought you’d be having fun seeing all the old faces,eh?” Tommy had snuck up behind Grace and held her tightly to him. He’d found her hiding out on the balcony by herself. She was staring out at the land behind the house, away from the party he’d thrown for her. 

He’d brought her a glass of champagne but she just shook her head no. She was trying to stay as healthy as she could for the baby's sake.  He’d caught her shivering, slipping off his suit jacket he placed it around her and grinned when she snuggled into it, then looked back as if checking to make sure he was close. 

He chuckled at her cute gesture and gathered her to him again. She sighed contently and lay her head against his chest. 

 Spending holidays with her was exciting and new to him. New years really hadn't meant anything to him, another year was all, except this year. 

This year he had her back and he intended to keep her. She didn't seem like she was trying to run off. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Seemed like he’d get success only to be smacked down for it just as quickly by someone in the IRA, government or someone from his past. 

“There aren't many people that are happy to see me sticking around, are there Tommy?”  He knew who she was speaking about. She of course was alluding to Polly, Charlie and John who had been quite vocal about her being back in their lives after the betrayal. 

He had dismissed them and shut it down immediately. She wasn’t there for them. She’d come back because she loved him and she was caring for their child, his baby. 

“Ignore them, eh. This is about us and the New Year. Here’s to us.” He raises champagne and drinks it down. She laughed and wrapped his free arm around her pinning to her chest. He could feel her heartbeat. 

“New year, new us.” She repeated her soft Irish dialect making it seem enchanting.

“What do you mean?” He was confused by her phrasing. Grace rarely said anything that didn't have a deeper meaning. His life had too many rapid changes, it wasn't always a positive thing.

“We’ll start this year together, and with a baby of all things. I didn't see that coming, did you?” She teased gently, her beautiful smile parting her full lips. 

“No, Grace, I didn't but I'm thrilled it happened.” He bent down to kiss her tasting of champagne and a sweet she’d offered to him earlier. 

“We start the year together Tommy, new business dealing, a new house, all of it.” She sounded wistful and thoughtful. That was good. It all sounded heavy to him. 

“Sounds like a good start to a year eh?” His husky voice cut through the night. It wasn’t often he could just relax and enjoy himself. Around her he was finding the time again. 

“Yes, I’m glad it's with you. And I'm glad it's here and not New York.” She mused. She hadn’t enjoyed New York. She took him to see a few iconic things while he helped her move out of her deceased husband's house. He was glad to be back here too. 

“I’m glad it's not New York too.” He was glad to leave that behind. He kissed her  head as the fireworks went off. She laughed in glee. He had been trying to keep it secrete for weeks. Polly had seen the price tag and scoffed. He hadn’t cared. This was all for her anyway, there wasn’t a price he wouldn't pay to give her the world. 

 New year, new changes. Good and bad he knew…. 

[koritoraa]

Hawt grl blowing a kiss at them in the mall ❦

A/n: in which they got caught up and distracted from whatever they doing due to your beauty & you noticed so you blew a kiss at them and they spaz tf out like mfs choking, tripping, slipping, bumping into thing, dropping things……

With my boysss: Gojo, Yuji, Megumi & Yuta

❦ Gojo

❧ He was shopping in the glasses aisle until you walk up next to him and started looking at some glasses too. He started checking you out, you noticed that from the side of your eyes. You thought he was fine as hell, so once you was done shopping you looked over at him and gave him a wink then blow him a kiss and on your way out.

❧ Before he could even do anything back he froze up, he wasn't expecting you to do that. He wanted to be funny and silly flirt with you back but that just didn't happen. All he knew is that he needed your number expeditiously.

❧ He ran out the store without paying for the glasses in his hand searching around for you. His ass wasn't even paying attention to anything until he bump into someone & trip over they shoe. PLZZZ he was not trying to let his dream girl get away...but you did 😞...

❦ Yuji

❧ Yuji was sitting in the food court munching down on some fries minding his lil ole business. He was talking and waving to whoever the hell was in sight. He was just very friendly, he’s like a bright light and you thought he was too adorable for this world.

❧ You were sitting a table over from his and saw him stuffing his face like the little cutie he was, until he looked over at you. He waved at you with a big smile on his face and you waved back then blew him little kiss.

❧ He seen that and that was the beginning of the worst for this poor bby. His fry nearly got stuck in his throat and on top of that when he was about to run and get something to drink he fell face flat into his fries. Ketchup was all over his face but at least the fry wasn’t stuck in his throat…

❧ You felt bad that any of that happen like he had the worst of luck all cuz of you being so hawt. You went over there to go check on him and help get all clean up, he was very appreciative and a little shy. You just wanted to put him in your purse and take him home. He’s too precious :(

❦ Megumi

❧ You was looking for a specific store and it was your first time coming to this mall in particular so you ask the first person you saw, some dude that had a hedgehog style hair.

❧ When he first turn around to face you he was already stumbling over his words, you snatched his soul with your beauty already. Regardless all that stuttering had you giggling at him being all shy around you.

❧ After he told you where to find the store he offered to walk you there and you agree. Once you were there you gave him your thanks then blew a kiss at him. All he heard was “Thank you, sweetie.” and went blank. Mf ain’t heard nun else. He quickly said you’re welcome then ran downstairs nearly busting his ass. Bless his heart.

❦ Yuta

❧ You was sitting at the food court in front of a fast food restaurant chatting away with your friends about what y’all had planned for the day.

❧ Yuta was standing at the cash register working at the same place you were sitting in front of. You and your friends were really noisy, the food court was filled with all of yall laughs. Yuta didn’t mind since he thought your laugh was very cute and silly, from time to time he would look up at you and you would look at him. This went on for a few minutes.

❧ One of your friends dared you to blow a kiss at him so they could see his reaction. You thought the idea was pretty silly but gave in anyway. When you two locked eyes with each other again you quickly blew him a kiss then waited for his reaction.

❧ He was in the middle of counting money from the cash register but that threw him off and he ended up dropping some change. You just saw him scrambling around trying his best to not to drop anything else, he was over there fighting for his life. You and your friends was laughing at how cute and clumsy he look all cause of the air kiss you sent him. He’s just a silly guy.

WHY THIS POST SO REALL ???LIKEEEE ????

[billyloomiswhore4]

Why’d you only call me when you’re high? - Billy Loomis

gif belongs to google

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating,violence,  angst, slight smut, billy is a dick, slutshaming, bad ending. 

The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time

But I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side

Billy Loomis knows he isn’t a good man, and he’s definitely not good enough for you. It doesn’t matter how much he enjoys killing or hurting people, he can’t hurt you, not physically anyways. You bring out a sense of calm in him. He’s always tense, like a wild animal easy to startle and ready to attack at any moment. But around you, it’s like that urge to hurt people is satiated, like he doesn’t need to anymore.

 As he looks at himself in the mirror, he thinks about what he needs to do to Sydney, and her friend. He wants to, so badly that it hurts. He realizes he needs you for this plan to come together, he needs you to keep him satiated. 

And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin', carryin' your shoes

Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you

He stands at the doorway of Stu’s house, watching as you stumble up the stairs. Lips locked with another man, and he thinks, “That should be me.” Your shoes are in your left hand and your dress is wrinkled. You seem to be enjoying yourself, and he hates it. He wants you to suffer without him, he wants you to regret your decision of dropping him. But he also wants to take a knife and stuff it into the heart of the man you're with. He wants to watch your face full of terror as you realize what he’s capable of. But he can’t, because he’s with Sidney. So instead he seeths in anger, and continues talking to Stu with his fists clenched, just hoping you’ll take him back. 

… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

It’s 3 am when your phone rings, the ID says, “ Billy,” You ignore it, and he calls three more times before you pick up. 

“What, Billy?” You sound angry, he likes it. 

He’s sitting standing in front of the mirror in Stu’s bathroom. And he’s high, he just smoked a joint with Stu and he can’t stand listening to him go on and on about what he’s up to with Tatum when he misses you so much, misses your touch, your sense of calm. 

“Nothin’ just watched to talk to you s’all.” It’s obvious how high he is, his voice comes out slow and slightly lighter. 

“Are you high?” You sigh when he doesn’t reply. “Goodbye Billy.” 

“No wait!” You hang up before he can try to convince you to go back to him.

… Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite

I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?

Billy is sitting in Stu’s living room, watching The Exorcist. Everyone is there except Sidney, and he doesn’t want to admit it but he hates it when she’s not there. When she isn’t there all he can think about is you. Stu likes to call him obsessed, probably because he is. He craves you, and the way you help satiate his urges. His urges, god they’re so overwhelming, he just wants to go into the kitchen and slit the throats of everyone in the room, just to come find you, soaked in their blood and kiss you.  But he can’t, you won't have him. And it’s all SIdney’s fault. 

It's harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

“I don’t understand! We had a good thing going!” 

He showed up at your front door, and pushed his way inside before you could slam the door in his face.

“What’s not to understand! You’re with Sidney, I can’t do that to her!”

“Who cares about Sidney!” You’re yelling in each other's face, up close and heated. This is how it always happens, this is how you end up in bed with him. 

“I can’t fuck you knowing you’re with her! It would ruin her if she found out! She loves you!”

“I don’t care, I love you!”

Your lips meet his suddenly, and fervently. It’s messy, and your teeth clink together. His tongue slips into your mouth and he slides off your jacket, walking you backwards and up the stairs. 

Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas

You lay underneath him, on your bed. Clothes are long discarded, it’s just you, him and pent up anger. You don’t think, you ignore all those pesky thoughts about Sidney, and how you could be ruining her relationship. When he pushes into you, all thoughts fade away, it’s just skin on skin and no more worries. 

Afterwards, you lay next to him, but facing away from him.

“This was the last time Billy. We can’t do this anymore.” It’s the exact same thing you’ve said time and time again. He knows you want to mean it, but he also knows he’ll be in bed with you again. 

… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

It’s been weeks since he’s touched you, since he fucked you. He shouldn’t miss you, but he does. So he finds himself dialing your number. He’s high again, Stu introduced him to his new bong. He calls you from Stu’s back porch, but you don’t pick up. 

He calls you again, and again, but still no answer. He sighs, and closes his eyes, letting the cool breeze hit his face and push back his hair. The cool air helps calm the urges, but not for long. 

… And I can't see you here, wonderin' where am I

It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time

Summer ended last week, and you’re sitting in English class. You definitely aren’t paying attention. Your thoughts wander to Billy. He hasn’t called you in a month and a half, and it’s been two months since he’d fucked you the last time. 

You wonder if he’s finally moved on, if he’s decided he doesn’t really need you anymore. You never thought you would miss him this much, but you do. You miss the way he touched you, the way he played with you. No other man was able to do better than him. You tried to forget about him, with booze, and weeds and men. But none of it worked, not for long anyways.  

I haven't found all I was hopin' to find

You said you gotta be up in the mornin'

Your head is pounding, and you’re cold. The softness underneath you tells you you’re in a bed. The last thing you remember is challenging some jack off to a drinking competition. You were at a party, it was a spring break celebration. You open you’re eyes and are met with Billy fucking Loomis staring staight at you. You're naked, he’s presumably naked, and you’re laying in bed with him. 

Fuck.

You jump out of the bed, and search for your clothes. He begs you not go, and you’re surprised because he’s never been the type to beg.  He tells you that needs you, and that you’re the only thing that makes sense to him. But you ignore him, put on your clothes and leave.

Gonna have an early night

And you're startin' to bore me, baby

Why'd you only call me when you're high?

It’s been two days since you woke up in bed with Billy, and you hate yourself even more for falling for that trap again. It’s not too late at night, but he calls you. And surprisingly, you answer. 

“Hey,” You say.

“I fucking hate you.” He spits. He’s either high, drunk or both. You aren’t sure. But he sounds like he means it when he says it. “I was ready to give everything up for you, and you just wouldn’t fucking take it.” 

“I’m sorry Billy, But you know I can’t be with you. You’re with Sidney.”

“You’re a whore.”  

This shocks you, he’s never once called you a whore, he's never really been downright mean to you either. 

“What?”

“I mean it, I can’t believe I put my dick in you. You’re disgusting.” Before he can continue to shame you, you hang up. 

… "Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

He got high again, and all he can think about is you. So he calls you. And you don’t pick up. He calls again, and again. At this point he assumes you’ve blocked his number. So he just stops calling. 

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

He’s with Sidney when he gets the text. He’d just fucked her, and it wasn’t anything like it was with you. It didn’t satiate his urges, or calm him down. It just made him angrier. The text reads. ‘It’s over, for real this time. Don’t contact me again.’

And he doesn’t. 

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Kink Realization + degradation?

"Don't be disgusting." Shigaraki says it to him while they're in a late-night planning session. He says that in response to him mouthing off and saying that AFO's fixation on them nabbing kids is creepy as shit. He's right that it is, but maybe implying that the guy who adopted his boss when he was young might have had reasons beyond the usual villainy was a bad look in momentary hindsight. But Dabi doesn't take the words back. He's a little too busy wondering why he kind of got warmer when the other said that. Whatever. Weird, but his whole life is weird. He goes on with their night. 

///

He doesn't have as easy of a time ignoring it when he comes through one of Kurogiri's portals, tripping on the sudden shift from cracked pavement to hardwood floors and losing his balance as Jin, Compress, and Toga come racing out after him. He falls on the floor, thankfully between the couch and coffee table instead of onto Duster's lap or into the hard edge of the furniture, and he rolls onto his back, meaning to push himself up quickly, but instead, a red sneaker lands on his sternum and keeps him pressed to the floor. Shigaraki looks down at him, his expression cool behind the hand on his face.

"Report." 

"Can you let a guy stand up first?" He gripes, reaching to push away the other's foot. He barely gets his fingers on the hem of his jeans before Shigaraki is grinding his shoe a little harder into Dabi's chest, stealing the breath from him. 

"No. Besides, you're nothing but a dog right now. Prove you were worth training and bark, puppy." 

He thinks he's supposed to set Shigaraki on fire for that, but he can't find his quirk, he can barely find his tongue as his entire body goes hot with arousal instead of fury. 

"Tomura Shigaraki," Kurogiri's voice comes sternly from behind the bar. "That is no way to treat your subordinates." 

Duster rolls his eyes and moves his foot off of him. "Lighten up, 'Giri. It was a joke." Dabi sits up quickly, desperately hoping that his pants are loose enough and his coat is big enough that no one sees that the treatment got him half-hard. 

"Fuck off, Shig. Compress took point. Get your report from him." He hopes he seems pissed off instead of anything else as he leaves the room, his pulse pounding in his ears. 

///

He waits until the others have departed for their own places or to celebrate a job well done before he goes to take a cold shower. He's not still hard, but he wants to tear whatever in Shigaraki's actions and words had made him hard away from his skin. But he might just go drown himself in the tub when he comes out of the bathroom and finds Duster waiting outside the door. He startles, nearly dropping his clothes, only wearing his sleep pants now. 

"Sorry, all yours." One bathroom is an annoying thing to deal with, but at least he has running water again. 

"That's a generous offer considering I don't even know if you're worthy of my time yet."

Dabi bristles again as Shigaraki doesn't move from where he's leaning against the wall. "What?" 

Red eyes drag over him. "I'm not sure," he says slowly, "if someone as gross as you, is worthy of my time." 

It still takes him a minute and then he's flushing indignantly. "What the fuck, Duster? Are you negging me?" 

"No." He says the word with certainty. "Negging is just words. I'm degrading you, because you're the kind of pathetic bitch that likes it when he gets stepped on." 

"I don't--"

"Did I give you permission to talk back to me?" Dabi's mouth snaps shut as a tremble works its way down his spine as his body goes abruptly hot again. "Better. Maybe if you learn your manners you'll earn the privilege of sleeping in a bed instead of on the floor like a dog." 

Oh god. Dabi's fucking thighs are shaking, and there is no hiding how quickly the blood rushes to his cock as Shigaraki says that, no way he can shift his bundle of clothes in front of himself without being extremely obvious about it. Duster is watching it happen anyway, his lip curled into a sneer. 

"Disgusting." He pushes away from the wall and Dabi thinks he's just going to be left with this humiliation, but Shigaraki goes to his door. "Heel." 

He's not a dog, but he might as well be. He goes over to his door, and before he can ask, Shigaraki rolls his eyes. 

"Did you really think I would fuck someone like you in my bed. No." Then he considers him, actually considers him and that meanness leaves his eyes to become more calculating. "And speaking of 'no', if you want something to stop, then you can bark twice. Once if you want things to keep going. Mutts don't speak, after all." And then Shigaraki waits. 

Dabi feels like he might be dying in some awful haze of a fever dream as he croaks out a single weak, "Woof?" 

The sharpness comes right back to Duster's expression. "You can be trained. Now take those off and get on the floor. Dogs don't walk or wear clothes." 

Dabi doesn't know if he's ever had his cock dripping without anyone even touching him before, but as he practically scurries inside his room to comply with the orders, he has a feeling that Shigaraki will be able to make him cum without touching him if he keeps treating him like this.

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days (Part Three)

Part One, Part Two

In hindsight, stealing the neighbors car and driving it out to Lookout Point had been a really, really stupid call. 

But kissing Anthony out in the open air, with the stars overhead and the sound of distant waves from the beach, hadn't been.

It had been a near perfect year of walks along the pier, sitting in the backs of movie theaters so they could play footsie in the dark, and study dates --or well, Anthony would study while Shawn would do his best to be distracting as usual.

Sure, maybe he was smart in that holier-than-thou way that Gus never liked, but he was nice. Anthony always corrected Shawn’s mixed up words with a smile that accentuated his dimples and crinkled his warm hazel eyes. He would always laugh at Shawns rebuttal and call him an idiot in that soft spoken voice. 

Shawn had never really done this before, a real relationship anyway, so their one year anniversary needed to be special. Perfect even.

And it had been until red and blue lights flashed in the near darkness and the unmistakable two tone note of his dads unmarked station wagon siren ripped through the air.

Shit.

The look of terror on Anthony's face, his eyes wide and his mouth suddenly slack and open as he scrambles away from their perch on the hood of the car to press back against the windshield is something Shawn never wants to see again.

But with his memory it's an inevitability.

“Anthony,” Shawn manages calmly even as his heart rate spikes, “just relax, I don't think he saw--”

“Jesus, yeah Shawn!” Anthony says, his voice just below a yell, “you don't think, I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have come out here with you, Jesus christ--”

Shawn recoils from Anthony as if slapped and watches as the other teen grimaces into the red and blue flashing lights.

Anthony shakes his head and mutters under his breath as the sound of a car door slamming fills the air, “I should have listened to my mom, she said you're a bad influence”.

Something crumples in Shawn's chest, like brittle tin at the words.

“Since when do you care about that?” Shawn whispers as footsteps crunch just a few paces from them now on the gravel road, “Anthony come on-”

“No you come on Shawn, I'm going to Princeton in September, I'm not going to let you screw this up for me”. 

Oh.

“You never,” Shawn swallows hard against the sudden lump that forms in his throat, and ignores the way his stomach drops into his shoes, “you didn't tell me you were moving to New York”.

“New Jersey” Anthony corrects, more softly than he's spoken in the last 30 seconds, since the flashing lights appeared and tore them apart.

“I've heard it both ways,” Shawn mumbles. 

Anthony doesn’t laugh this time. His mouth twists as he stares at the ground and Shawn almost wants to plead for Anthony to just smile, laugh, roll his eyes, call him an idiot.

It never really struck Shawn before that Anthony might not have been using that word as a term of endearment.

“Shawn!”

He jumps slightly at the sound of his name, uttered like a curse, and closes his eyes. 

“Shawn! Of all the stupid things you've done, this takes the God Damn cake”.

“Dad--” Shawn says but snaps his mouth shut with a click as Henry grabs him roughly by the shirt collar and tugs him off the hood of the car. Shawn stumbles but keeps his feet under him as his dad spins him around to look at him. 

“It's Detective Spencer to you,” Henry growls at his son, his blue eyes dart over Shawn's face before he looks over his shoulder and gives Anthony a once over, his expression unreadable.

“And you,” he gestures to Anthony with a free hand, “get off the car. Now”.

Everything after that feels like it happens in slow motion.

Henry radios dispatch to send a black and white to pick up Anthony and take him home and a tow truck for their neighbors car. 

Shawn says nothing as his father spends the ten minutes waiting for the other vehicles to come, vacillating between berating Shawn and lecturing Anthony about his choices. He's parked them on a nearby picnic table; Shawn wonders somewhat hysterically if his dad is aware that this was their old family summer haunt. 

He runs his fingers lightly over the crude letters carved into the wood, S-P-E-N-C-E-R, but drops his hand away from the table as if burned. The last thing he wants now is his dad to see their name and add destruction of public property to his list of charges.

Anthony says nothing the entire time they wait. He keeps his head down and his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

God. Shawn had been so, so sure of how Anthony had felt, that things had been going well for them, there hadn't been a single doubt in his mind that this was it, that he'd found someone other than Gus he could share everything with. 

God. He hates that Gus had been right. 

He’d been right to be wary of Anthony, he’d seen something that Shawn hadn’t all those years ago and now…

How had he missed the fact that his boyfriend was apparently planning to up and leave him behind in the next two months. 

Had it all been one-sided this entire time? Shawn tries to remember if Anthony had ever even said that he liked Shawn let alone loved him. 

When the other patrol car ambles up the gravel road, it barely comes to a stop before Anthony launches away from the table and makes his way to the car. 

Anthony doesn't look at Shawn once.

Henry talks to the beat cop briefly, instructing him to just take the teen home, that he’ll handle Shawn.

Great. 

Henry claps the top of the crown vic twice with his hand and steps clear as the car takes off. Shawn watches as tail lights turn to red stars in the dark as they head farther down the road before disappearing behind a turn. 

Then the tow truck appears. Shawn finds himself tuning out the conversation between his dad and the driver as they hitch up the car. 

Shawn can only see Anthony's panicked face shift into a withering glare in his mind again and again. He winces, trying to shake the image, and sits in uncharacteristic silence while the second set of vehicles finally meander down the road, taking the same path as the patrol car.

Shawn swallows hard as his dad steps up beside him and sighs, long and low. 

“Do you understand what you did tonight?” Henry says slowly, “how serious this is?”

Shawn stops himself from rolling his eyes but it's a near thing, “is it still considered grand theft auto if we only went a mile?”

Henry laughs once, a sharp puff of air without humor, somehow it's worse than if he would just yell. His dad looks at Shawn for another beat before he finally seems to make a decision. Henry squares his broad shoulders and reaches out to grab Shawn roughly by the shirt once again, dragging him off of the bench and hauling him to his feet with a squawk.

“Shawn Spencer,” Henry says firmly, “you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be held against you in a court of law--”

“What?!” Shawn says as he nearly stumbles with the force that his dad is moving forward with, one hand on his shirt and the other tightly circled around Shawns upper arm.

“You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed to you,” Henry continues as if Shawn had said nothing. He doesn't look at Shawn as they make their way to the unmarked station wagon. 

“Dad--”

Henry lets go of Shawns shirt, leaving the fabric stretched and nearly torn and opens the back car door. With the same free hand he presses firmly on Shawn's head, pushing him into the back seat.

“Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?” Henry says stiffly standing in front of the open car door.

“What no handcuffs,” Shawn bites out, his chest rises and falls quickly as anger and hurt swirl and thrum against his ribcage, “gee Dad I always knew you were a softy”. 

Henry slams the car door without another word before making his way around to the driver's side. The vehicle sags as Henry slides into the driver's seat. 

The radio comes to life, the first few notes of Every Breath You Take plays over the sound system only for Henry to slam his hand down on the volume knob before the true irony of the song can be appreciated.

The familiar drive to the station feels so much longer in the heavy silence that hangs in the car. Shawn looks into the rearview mirror every now and again, trying to catch his dads angry gaze but Henry keeps his eyes on the road, his expression stony. 

When they finally pull into the station, Henry parks the car and sits for a moment, Shawn watches as his dad takes a deep breath before turning off the engine, he hasn't said a word since reading Shawn his rights, it's unnerving to say the least. 

He expects his dad to rail against him the whole way down to the station, to tear another strip off him like he had back at Lookout Point but Henry merely leaves the driver's seat, walks around the vehicle to grab Shawn, and walks him through the double doors of the station. 

Henry's hand is loose around Shawns arm, rather than the bruising grip from earlier when his dad hauled him off the car. For a wild moment, Shawn considers making a run for it.

“Listen,” Henry says after a beat, he stops their march to the desk sergeant and pulls Shawn aside into the hall, “if that boy put you up to this, I can get that squad car to turn around--”

“Anthony didn't put me up to anything, don't--he's not--he's going to Princeton next year and he doesn't need m--” Shawn nearly stumbles trying to catch the words before they escape. He swallows hard against the lump in his throat and feels his eyes begin to sting, the threat of tears that has been building since red and blue lights lit up the night makes Shawn wish the floor of the station would open up and swallow him whole.

Henry stares at Shawn now with narrowed eyes, the longer he looks the more it feels like being dissected, assessed. 

He realizes his mistake too late to backtrack, not taking the out from his dad he always wished for, the benefit of the doubt was a trap.

Then Henry's eyes land on Shawn's neck, where the collar of his shirt has been stretched, where the beginnings of a small red hickey have started forming. 

Shit.

Shawn tries to lift his hand to cover the mark but he's not fast enough to stop his dad from smacking his arm away with one hand while the other opens his shirt collar even more.

Shawn watches a myriad of expressions move across his dads face, before settling on something resembling disappointment. He's not sure how long they stay like that before Henry slowly begins to shake his head.

“Jesus,” Henry breathes out weakly, “first the car and now,” he drops his hands away from Shawn and takes a step back, “as if we don't have enough to worry about, you're--you're carrying on with some boy like a, like a--”

“Like a what, dad, huh?” Shawn says hoarsely, he balls both hands into firsts to hide the way they shake. 

While he hadn't been sure what to expect from his dad, despite Gus’ insistence that he should just tell Henry the truth, some small part of Shawn had hoped that his reaction wouldn't sting this much.

His dad says nothing, looking around as though his head is on a swivel, not that he needs to worry. The station is quiet save for a few night shift officers milling around, Shawn can vaguely hear the desk sergeant chatting on the phone about her weekend plans.

“This is going to kill your mother,” Henry says, wiping a heavy hand down his face and taking another step back.

Shawn feels as though the air has been punched from his lungs. 

“Dad…” Shawn tries, his voice cracks as Henry turns away sharply.

“Just, go sit, I need to talk to the Sergeant,” Henry mutters before stalking off, the rubber soles of his shoes squeak loudly on the linoleum as he disappears around the corner.

Shawn feels his breathing catch as he all but collapses into the nearest chair against the wall of the hallway, his vision blurs and his face burns. Fuck. Fuck.

Shawn drops his face into his hands and presses his fingers into his eyes until stars explode in his vision. He holds his breath, feeling his chest spasm as he suppresses a sob. 

“Hey kid, you okay?” A voice says to Shawn's right, startling him into lifting his face, his hands come away wet so he wipes them quickly on his jeans. God, of course, someone is going to see him like this, at his lowest point. 

He wishes Gus were here with him.

Shawn slowly looks up, acutely aware of how his face must look right now given the patient smile on the stranger's face before him.  

Shawn gives his face another quick wipe and sniffs, wincing at the congested noise. 

“Who me?” Shawn huffs out, his voice tight, “I'm peaches dude”. 

The cop, clearly a rookie based on the lack of bags under his eyes, the fresh press of his uniform, and the sheen on his standard issue leather holster. All this effort for the night shift? It screams desperation --notice me Captain! 

The rookie's bright blue eyes crinkle at the corners slightly, his expression pinched in sympathy as he takes a step closer. 

L-A-S-S-I-T-E-R flashes on his brass name plate.

“Your dad'll cool off, I’m sure he didn't mean it--”

Shawn lets a weak laugh tumble out of his mouth and shakes his head at the floor, “Henry Spencer never said a damn thing in his life he didn't mean”.

He wipes at his face again with the sleeve of his shirt before crossing his arms tightly over his stomach, “so, thanks, stretch but you don't know my dad”.

“Lassiter! What are you doing? Get back to your desk,” Henry's voice carries sharply through the hall. The rookie jumps and takes a step back from Shawn, his back ramrod straight.

Shawn scoffs, if this is how cops were supposed to act, then he's glad he's all but ruined his chances of ever being one. 

How could he live with himself if this is what he would eventually become? 

This was good, for the best really. 

“Run along Lassie,” Shawn says tiredly, "I'm sure there's a boy stuck in a well somewhere that would love your help”.

The rookie's jaw drops as the beginnings of a snarl takes over his expression.

“Lassiter!” Henry barks again, interrupting whatever the rookie had no doubt been about to snap at Shawn as he comes within earshot of the pair of them, there are heavy bags under his dad's eyes, accentuated by the harsh overhead lighting. 

Shawn doesn't think he's ever seen Henry this tired before, not even after mom left them.

The rookie looks between Henry and Shawn and opens his mouth before thinking better of whatever he had been about to say. 

“Yes sir,” he says tersely instead, turning on his heel and walking briskly back to the bullpen.

“And then there were two,” Shawn mutters under his breath, he keeps his eyes on the floor, refusing to meet his dads glare.

“Okay, Detective Vick is going to escort you for processing, she'll be by shortly. Do. Not. Move.” 

Shawn can't even bring himself to nod, he fixes his gaze on the opposite wall and remains silent, his dad can't blame him for invoking his right after all. 

Henry sighs and turns on his heel, making his way back down the hallway. 

Shawn does his best not to flinch at the sound of the heavy double doors banging shut as his dad leaves the station.

*

Tag List: @adaed5 @drakkywolf @newgrangespirals @riverofrainbows (If you want to be removed or added to the tag list please let me know!)

Part Four