#yeah kev is still fronting Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[play-dohenthusiast]

Heyy it's me again Knife so-

Oh, seems like you got an axe, cool!

Btw what you gonna do with it?

{WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE GOT AN AXE??}

(Yeah he got an axe, maybe from someone)

{*bewildered* i'm leaving...}

(Again??)

-random/knife anon

AXXXEEEEEEE!!!!

[spinstertheuncommon]

Gotham's sewist- meet the robin | reader insert

Series master list

Disclaimers: use of y/n, no gendered terms for reader, no real romance but maybe later down the line for the story, not following any real comic lore, just my brain, lowercase because I'm lazy, reader is over Bruce's shit but he hasn't even begun. Reader does not know who batman is below the mask yet

note: reader has a non specific physical disability that affects their knee strength. they use an ambulatory cane on high pain days, but can walk without it. this is purely self indulgent.

Timeline: Reader and Bruce are 26

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"you're kidding me, right?"

you sit, staring up at the looming shadow in front of you, only illuminated by the streetlight behind him. not even the desk lamp you were hunched over could reach is face, but then again he was a wall of a man.

"i trust you can make it for him?"

you blink, dumbfounded, "i mean, yeah i can make it, but with little due respect, that,” you point, “is a child! he's like, 10 and you want me to make him a suit?!"

"I'm 12!" the small boy shoots up, bouncing over from the display wall of buttons and trims, coming over to rest his head on your desk.

"I-hun, that doesn't make it any better," you sigh. you don't want to break this little boys heart, but can you really endorse a child going out to fight crime? even if under the wing of the batman?

speaking of, batman leans further into the light, either to intimidate or level with you, but at this point you've moved passed any point of fear. you've seen this man in just a cowl and boxers to draft several patterns, he has nothing on you. and you know he hates it.

"you will be paid more than fairly, just name your rate"

"4 billion"

"done"

"wait, what?" you were being facetious, but from the half of his face you could see, this man was not playing. how the fuck does this man make money?

while processing this, batman had already pulled out a check book. you dive over the desk, "no, nononono no, B, i was kidding i wasn't serious, i just... do you have any plans..? inspiration..? a starting point..?" i can't believe i'm agreeing to this.

"I DO I DO!! Here!" the kid shoved a drawing in your face. it was one of those print outs to decorate a ginger bread man you’d see in school libraries, but had the brightest crayon colours all over it. a big banner covered the top of the page, in very neat writing, but still with the charm of a child's hand . it read 'robin' with 'hood' scratched out beside it. with green shoes, a big yellow cape, a hat with a feather, a red tunic and-

"what colour did you want the pants to be, hun?"

"I don't want any! i want a leotard!"

you sit, silently blubbering like a fish. once you had some semblance of comprehension, you immediately flick to the bat.

you're letting him go out, with no pants? the amount of time over the last 3 years you've spent with him, he should be well aware of what you say with your eyes.

and he was.

and he did nothing about it. he had the audacity to shrug.

you right about jumped out of your seat to strangle this man. you don't care if you're knee gives out, and you really don't care who he was, he needed someone out there to smack some sense into him, and if it was you, it will be you (you would later find out that someone was trying to, but B is as stubborn as he is quiet).

"mm ok, how bout i cut you a deal, hun? can we settle on some tights?"

he thought about it. he thought hard about it. he thought so hard his face scrunched along with it. he thought so hard you were sure he had stopped breathing and was about to turn blue.

"kid, i ca-"

"OKAY!!" he almost nocks himself over with how aggressively he threw his head back. this is the kid the bat wants to take out? i mean, if this is the energy he has at 2am then i guess?

you really didn't know anymore. but you're not out there, and the crime has gone down since batman jumped on the scene, and you're not the one in the kevlar spandex suit.

no,

you just make the kevlar spandex suits.

But money's tight.

no one buys from a 26 year old sewist with student debts up to their ears. no one comes to a shop so close to crime alley to fix their high priced suits and dresses, or commission one, carting wads of money thieves can sniff on their collars.

money's tight.

so you offer up 800 dollars.

he's a small kid, it won't cost much on your side.

the bat slides you a check, one you've seen before. always anonymous, and always twice as much as you offer.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hello!

This is like, my first fanfic that is actually seeing public light, so that's cool.

Gothams Sewist is a series, so follow me or the tag to stay updated if u like my work,

Thanks for reading!

-Spinster

Do not copy, steal or repost my work! Thanks!

[cloudy-em]

Hi there! I got a request for Lip, if you don't mind 🥺

Reader is friends with either Fiona or Ian (she's the same age as Lip though), and one evening, she's dragged to the house for dinner (she's also very shy, very), so they meet and he just can't help but flirt constantly to make her blush and stutter.

And maybe later on, he hears her talking to Fiona/Ian about it, saying something like not keeping her hopes up because she can't believe he could actually like her ("no one likes the shy girl" kinda thing, I had that said to me and I need some comfort for it😂).

He basically wants to prove to her that he actually likes her. Maybe he already noticed her st school or something.

Have a good day, hun 🤘

of course!! glad to provide some comfort <3 i was the same way all from like elementary to high school so i get it! have a great day, too, thanks for the request <3

ages are pretty inconsistent in the show, but i think in season 3 he's like 18? i don't write characters when they're minors, so the reader and lip are both 18 years old and they're seniors in this! so this is set in like season 3ish i guess.

xxxxxxxxx

Ian and Y/N walked through the front door of the Gallagher household. Y/N took her shoes off, following Ian to his room where they dropped off their backpacks. Even though they aren't in the same grade, they're still great friends. It started when Ian found Y/N at school one day, trying to hold herself together after being made fun of for her quiet response to a teacher's question that she had to repeat multiple times. It turned out, Ian and Y/N actually had a lot in common, and the rest was history.

Y/N wasn't over at Ian's house often. The loud and chaotic nature of his family was endearing, but she didn't quite feel comfortable enough with the other Gallaghers yet to let her walls down. Not that she was ever as loud or chaotic as the family; she was just on the quieter, shyer side, and the Gallaghers respected that.

Ian had invited Y/N over for dinner, making sure Fiona was aware. Ian and Y/N both helped her with dinner, Y/N smiling quietly to herself as Ian and Fiona laughed and joked together. They set the table, and Fiona yelled up to the rest of the family to come eat.

Frank was god knows where doing god knows what, and Kev and V were busy at the alibi, so it was just Y/N and the Gallagher kids for the night. Debbie and Carl came barreling down the stairs leaving an empty seat between them because the two had recently been arguing. Lip walked down the stairs, Liam in his arms, and helped Liam get into a high chair. He sat between Carl and Debbie, clearly sick of their argument, and sighed. Y/N was stationed between Ian and Fiona, the two she was most comfortable with. Food was distributed and everyone tried to make dinner conversation.

Y/N looked at Debbie politely as she talked about a student counsel project she was working on, trying to plan out how perfect and showstopping it would be. She smiled hearing the girl's plan; it sounded great and she had no doubt Debbie could do it. Glancing towards Lip, she noticed him watching her instead of his younger sister. There's a pause, and Lip grabs her attention.

"You look really pretty today, Y/N," he says genuinely. In response, she blushes and looks towards her lap, mumbling a thank you. Lip opens his mouth, ready to say something else, when Carl pipes up.

"Yeah! You look just like the Barbie I put on the grill earlier!" He exclaims before backtracking. "Well, you look like her before I put her on the grill. And I wouldn't grill you, you're too nice." Y/N smiled and tried not to laugh at the young boy's antics as Fiona lectured him about cruel and unusual punishment. Lip kept staring at Y/N, completely mesmerized by her shy and gentle nature. He was wracking his brain on what to say next; he didn't want to try stupid or sexual pickup lines on her. He wanted to take his time with her. He'd noticed her in his literature class in school, they both sat at the back, but on opposite sides of the room. Ian was about to kick Lip under the table for his weird behavior, knowing Y/N would be uncomfortable, but Fiona beat him to it.

"Lip, it's rude to stare, especially at our guest."

Hearing his name brought him back, and he cleared his throat. "Um, Y/N? You have Mr Harbor for Physics II, right?" he asked, curious.

"Yes, 4th period," she replied quietly. Lip smiled hearing her voice, wanting to hear it more often.

"Oh great! I have him for 6th. Do you wanna come over sometime and study together? We can work through some problems if you want, maybe do some physical experiments-" he's cut off by Carl.

"Gross, Lip, you don't propose sex in front of the family!" he yells. Lip's eyes widen.

"Oh, jesus! No no I wasn't- Y/N that's not what I meant, I- I meant just calculating projectiles with a slingshot or something, not- not THAT!" he tries to explain desperately. He really did just mean doing problems and experiments together. They're both very intelligent people, and Lip thought it was a good proposition for a subtle excuse to get to know her.

"I-it's okay, Lip, n-no worries!" Y/N felt her face and neck flush. she knew he didn't mean sex, but the idea of it made her blush. Of course she'd heard plenty of rumors around school about how good Lip Gallagher was in bed.

The meal was done pretty quickly. The family all got up, Y/N waiting until most of them left to bring her plate to the sink.

"I'll take care of the dishes, Y/N," Lip said, gently placing his hand on the small of her back. She jumped slightly, moving out of the way and nodding, heading upstairs to finish her homework. Ian follows shortly after.

Lip walked up the stairs to grab a cigarette from his desk, but paused as he caught his name.

"-and it's nice to hope for just a second that maybe, just maybe, he likes me, that he cares for me, but he doesn't, Ian! There's no way someone like Lip would ever like someone like me! He's confident and attractive and smart and girls love him! I'm just me. I'm shy and quiet and it takes me forever to warm up to people and nobody likes the shy girl," she sighed sadly. "You don't think he's trying to prank me or something, do you?" she asked Ian. Lip walked away, not realizing she felt this way.

He had to do something. He went back down the stairs, no longer set on his cigarette, rather a way to prove himself to her. He thought hard for a while, realizing it was probably just best to talk her alone. He sighed, thinking of what to say without fucking up.

Lip heard Ian yell goodbye to Y/N, and her footsteps walking towards the front door. He ran towards the front door, trying to be casual.

"Hey, I'll walk you home. Make sure you get home safe," he said, sounding more like he was making a statement rather than offering.

"Oh, um, okay. Let's go then," Y/N replied.

The walk to her house was quiet. Lip didn't know what to say. 'Hey, I've been watching you at school for the past 3 months and I haven't hooked up with anybody since I noticed you because you're all I can think about even though we've barely ever talked'? He knew he needed to say that, he just needed to find a less...aggressive way of saying it.

He walked Y/N to her door, making sure she got it unlocked. He reached out and touched her arm just as she turned to enter her house. She turned to look at him with big eyes.

"Look, Y/N. I, uh, I've noticed you at school a lot over the past couple of months, and I know you're my brother's friend, but I'd really like to get to know you better. I think you're really, really smart and you're pretty, too, and Ian talks about you all the time. You just sound like a great person and I think I have a small crush on you. I know you probably don't feel the same, but if you'd give me a chance, I think we'll get along great and we can get to know each other. Please?" He poured his heart out.

Y/N hesitated, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. "I- okay, Lip. We can get to know each other. I'm just nervous and really shy around people I don't know so I'm sorry-" he cuts her off.

"That's why we'll know each other, 'kay?" he said, gently stroking her upper arm with his thumb.

"Besides, I like shy girls."

xxxxxxx

lip x shy!reader is one of my favs thank you so much for this request! let me know if you want more of this kind of content please!

[stabbyfoxandrew]

hii, how's it going? happy wipw ☀️

you know i love Angel Neil, Mafia Front and Arsonist Neil equally but i am HOOKED on the recent events of Mafia (devastating but really good), so could i ask for that? i will be more than happy with either of the others if they're flowing better though : )

thank you!! wishing you have a lovely week <33

WIP Wednesday (3/5) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 286)

"Yeah, yeah. The Kev picture. That was from you, this is from us. Besides, this is a reason for you two to meet up again." Jeremy says with a wink that would've reduced Andrew into a puddle if he were anyone else. (Or at least, a younger version of himself.)

"Feeling devious today are we?"

"A little." Jeremy grins. But Kevin is unmoved.

"I already did my part," he says, passing the card back to Jeremy who sticks his bottom lip out at him. After a couple minutes of prodding, he folds like a lawn chair and slaps his signature— eight letters, no more and no less— right under Jeremy's with a huff. "Fine, there."

"What have they done to ruffle you this time, mon tresor?" Jean says when he enters to find Kevin pouting. He pushes his hand into Kevin's hair while Jeremy explains this new plan. By the time he's through, Kevin is almost melted into the couch under Jean's hand and Jean looks amused. "You are making us sign this card to get Andrew laid."

"No! Well, I mean. Maybe, I don't know. But Andrew is our friend and he likes this hot guy and that's a good enough reason, now sign." Jeremy says, thrusting the pen into Jean's hand. Instead of using the table like a civilized person, Jean signs it against Andrew's back.

"Moreau."

"I am nearly done, hold still." Jean chides. Then the pen is clicking and the card is right in front of Andrew's face. "There you are. Go forth and get laid, on us."

"Merci, I guess." Andrew glances down to see Jean's addition and it's... gibberish. It also has his name mixed up in it.

"Joyeux Noël. Soyez gentils avec Andrew, Jean Moreau #29"

"What did you write?" Andrew demands.

"None of your business. It is not meant for you," Jean brushes him off.

"Kevin, translate," Andrew says, putting it in front of Kevin. His green eyes cross the page and a smile crosses his face. Then Jeremy feels it's his duty to do the same, the same sappy smile on his lips.

"If Monsieur Flame needs help, he can use the Google." Jean tells him. Andrew throws a glare his way but Jean does not catch it, so Andrew merely tucks the card into his jacket, exchanges another round of goodbyes, and leaves.

[sevikas0wife]

This was proofread ,but I’m not sure ifthe grammar is good because I’m lowkey sleep deprived and I’m on 3 redbulls right now

———————————————————————

“Damnit. I shou-“ You pause. “I should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.” You knew it wouldn’t have been different.

All of the walls you had built up were for nothing. Sevika not only stabbed you with a salty knife but twisted it too

You knew Sevika wouldn’t have changed, deep down in your heart. You wanted to ignore that fact only because you wanted a fake fantasy you knew you couldn’t have.

“Sorry for-“

“Save it. I don’t wanna hear your voice, Sevika.”

You shot up from the couch┅ a couch you and Sevika found in an alley, taking it home and trying to nurse it to better health. You look, in search of your stuff so you could go.

You didn’t want to leave the one you loved most, but you knew that if she said anything else, your anger would get the best of you and you'd say something you'd regret.

“Hey now-“ Sevika tried to hug you in hopes it would stop you from moving, but it seemed to upset you more. “Sevika, don’t. Just why? Why do you do this to me? If you don't want me, why am I locked up in my apartment? Waiting for you to come home?

The room stayed silent, barely filled with the undercity's shenanigans outside the building and the wood creaking inside your apartment.

You continued putting on your leather jacket and started grabbing your black, old boots. “One day, you’re gonna realize out of everything in this fucked up city, I’m the only person who really love you. You haven’t changed, and it shows.” You finished tying one of your boots, forgetting the other one out of anger.

You started walking toward the front door, passing Sevika, who was still quiet as a mouse. Before you could leave, Sevika grabbed your wrist in a tight hold. “Wait, can we just talk?”

“Talk about what, Sevika? You left me! Admit it!”

You say, fighting back a tear. “You left me by myself. And you left me for a whore. You haven’t changed or matured. You’re still the same ol’ drinking, smoking, fighting Sevika who you were 6 years ago. So, let me go.”

You pull your arm back to your side. You pause in the doorway. "I want you gone by the time I get back." Walking out, leaving Sevika alone with her thoughts.

━━━━━━༺༻ ━━━━━━

"Ran?" You say, walking into the Last Drop --It was a lot different than before. When Vander was here, it seemed like a home, now? It was full of drunken gamblers and a few others under the sort.

It was a weekday, so it wasn’t too crowded. Only the bartender Kevin, a few people playing a card game, and an old man at the bar, sipping a brown substance from a cloudy glass.

“Kev? Is Ran here today?” You said to walk up to the bar.

“Yeah, they’re in their room.” He pointed towards a hallway lit by the lights of the bar.

“Thanks. Will you bring us a bottle? Vodka or something.”

“Yeah, I got you.” You smile at him while making your way to the hallway, stopping at a door that reads 'Ran.' You knocked, then waited. “Rann?” You hear a few footsteps, and the door opens.

“It’s Vesh in the flesh! What ya’ doing here?”

“Are you busy right now?”

“Uhh, no, not too busy.”

“Can I come in? I need to talk to someone.”

“Yeah sure, come on in.” They open the door wider, inviting you in.

When you enter, you catch the eye of a chubby, muscular man sitting on Ran's old vintage couch.

You’d seen him around when Sevika brought you over to the bar. You guys aren’t the best of friends, but you trust him. His tattoos were really nice, must have paid a pretty penny for them.

You didn't pay much attention to him, so you plopped down on Ran's messy bed. “She played me. AGAIN.” The man turns to look at you, then back to whatever he’s doing on the table. “Thanks, K. " They grab the bottle of Vodka from Kevin and throw it to you.

"What ya on about, Vesh?” Ran said, grabbing a couple of glasses, passing one to you.

“You heard me. Sev? She played me like a damn fool!”

You take a sip of the bottle, ignoring the glass. “I let her stay at my apartment so I could take a look at her arm and we… did somethings...BUT we also had a nice long talk about everything and anything. Three days. I was with her for three days, and it was great. But then she left me, randomly! Said it was work." Ran turned to the cubby man, dismissing him from whatever was on the table in front of him.

"I found her at the gardens. She told me she had changed Ran. That, that wasn't her anymore.” You rambled, taking deep sips of Vodka.

Ran's hands continued playing with something on the table, but Ran's eyes were on you. “Oh…Anything else?” Ran said, walking over to you, pouring themself a glass.

“I mean, who does that? And after, I tried so hard to forget. And I was actually getting better. Till I ran back in with her and suddenly, all hell broke loose.” You say, kicking off your shoes and throwing your jacket in a corner.

“Ah, did you ask her about it?” Ran sat down next to you.

"No, I didn't have to. I saw the shame in her eyes when she saw me."

“Vesh, it doesn't seem like Sevika to do something like that. I mean, ever since you moved back down, she's only been worried about you."

You roll your eyes, turning on your side. “Give me a break...I haven’t slept in days.” Ran gets up and throws a pillow at you. "Whatever, go to bed. before drifting into sleep.

ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ ʚ♡ɞ

This is my first time writing, so like, be gentle or something like that. I started writing this on a trip, and I'm editing as I'm going on a different one.

The part where the Vesh says something about 6 years ago, I’d say Sevika was about 35-37 years old, she was a party-hard type of girl. And they did have something, but Sevika was a cheater during that time, so yeah.

[sincerlybarnes]

inlove-with-your-bucky anon back at it again... Will you ever write a fic with these guys please tell me you willlll 🥹

well i mean of course, i have to give the people what they want 😌🤍

marvel x shameless dr

bestfriend!james bucky barnes x oc!amara gallagher

summary: just a chill hangout with the friend group ☺️

songs: temptation greets you like your naughty friend by arctic monkeys, undone by weezer, song 2 by blur

a/n: all character boards are posted if you want to go check them out to get a feel of the vibe, enjoy!! :)

“how the hell is it still hot outside at 8pm,” the front door to the Gallagher home creaked open with the sounds of 3 bickering people pouring in, “seriously it makes no sense to me.” bucky could be heard complaining as he walked in first, tossing the zip up jacket he usually wore, over the couch.

“we live in chicago, who knows.” yelena walking in second after bucky as she rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his dramatic complaints. “i blame global warming” steve stepping in last as yelena and bucky had already made their way into the kitchen to find amara filling a bowl with popcorn that was definitely well over 3 months old. “stop trying to sound smart steven” amara snorted, teasing her friend as he joined her and the rest in the kitchen. “hey, i’ll have you know sounding smart comes easy to me, so i don’t have to try” steve spoke, raising his finger to amara as if he were meant to have glasses and a lisp. “uhhh you finished the year off with two d’s and three c’s…not exactly a genius” bucky’s brows furrowed as he turned to call steve out on his bullshit, “yeah, honestly i don’t even know how you were still allowed on the team” yelena scoffed joining in on bucky’s tormenting “it’s because he kisses their ass” bucky’s words causing laughs to arise from everyone but steve who was now glaring at james after he shoved steve’s shoulder playfully. “um no actually i kiss A ass, as in only ONE, coach lance’s” roger’s putting emphasis in his argument of ass kissing “i feel like that’s somehow worse” amara croaked out, now turning around to face the rest of them as she held the big bowl of popcorn. “and bucky, you are the last person to be talking about grades” steve adding onto his case, trying to switch the topic off of annoyingly jabbing at him and his shady football jock tactics. “mm’ but i also didn’t claim to be big brains, like you did.”

the room falling silent as steve tried to think of an argumentative response before finally giving in and just settling for a mumbled “shut the hell up.” “yes please” yelena tossing her own comment in as the four of them plopped down onto the couch, amara turning on the tv to amc channel so that they could all watch the newest episode of the walking dead “listening to you two go back and fourth is like listening to wild animals fight over food crumbs.” “wait speaking of wild animals, where is everyone amara?” steve ignoring yelena with an eye roll and attitude before he turned to amara asking her the whereabouts of the rest of the gallagher family. “oh they’re out, i think they’re down at the alibi watching the cubs game,” amara popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth before she continued “it’s 2 free beers night” her words muffled as she chewed, looking at the tv as they all waited for the clock to strike 8:30 so that they would air the episode. “damn,” bucky groaning loudly, dragging out his words as he threw his head back against the cushions of the couch they all spread upon “free beers night!?!! why are we here and not inthere??” a huff falling from amara as she looked over at bucky, “you act as if kev would even give us a sip of beer” james turning his head to look at amara who was sat right next to him “uh duh that’s why we sneak the beers, like always” yelena speaking with a confused look on her face as she hummed “mmm wait if that’s the case then wouldn’t every night be free beers night?” “OKAY WHATEVER,” bucky cutting yelena off with another irritated groan “forget it.” his arms crossing against his chest as he sunk down into the couch, pouting. “it’s okay, we’ll go next saturday” amara spoke to him softly, sinking down against the couch just as he did to get onto his level. amara pushing the bowl of popcorn over to bucky as she offered him some in hopes that he would stop jutting his lip.

soon the walking dead episode had finally come on, and of course like always 10 minutes in and yelena and steve were already fast asleep, sprawled out, as they unconsciously fought for space on the couch. bucky had been hyper aware of how close amara was for last 20 minutes, their shoulders touching. “they just need to kill the governor, he is so annoying” amara mumbled, trying to stay quiet as to not wake the two next to them who were sleeping like babies. “andrea is pissing me off” bucky’s reply coming out with a sigh and a shake of his head “she only thinks she loves him because she can’t find dick anywhere else, but then again it is the zombie apocalypse so, kind of understandable” amara’s words muffled as she spoke up in between tossing popcorn in her mouth “what? so you’re saying you would do the same if you were her?” his brows furrowed and his eyes widened at her words, looking over at amara, bucky arched his brow in question. “well i mean no, but like if he was someone that i really thought i loved then yeah i would stay with him,” her shoulders shrugging as she made her point in the argument of to stay or to go “you know, like if the governor was some else like, i don’t know, you? then yeah” amara’s words made bucky pause and look away from the tv and back over to her “…really? you’d stay if that was me?” the feeling of his heart fluttering made a soft smile paint his face “yeah, of course, it’s you.” the room falling silent, only the muffled sound of the tv playing as they both looked at each other for just a moment, bucky being the first to tear his eyes from hers so that she wouldn’t be able to catch the way he was flighting off his smile, but she had already peeped his dimples long ago. “well, then i guess i’d stay if it was you too” “oh wow, you guess? i’m hurt james. very hurt.” amara finally letting her eyes trail back to the screen as she shoved him at his words, the two both laughing gently as the episode continued.

a/n: just a short little fic, i hope you guys liked it!! let me know if you have any ideas or requests 🙂‍↔️ p.s. i’m so glad you guys liked my bucky as much as i do 🥹🤍🤍🤍

[shellkissed]

i’m the same anon who requested the other kwp! could you write a cute fluffy story about kwp and reader getting engaged! reading the other one you posted made me think of like walking through the park and then getting proposed to <3

Authors Note: yess anon absolutely! I love cute little stories like this because they make my heart so warm and full 💖

I think I wanna marry you

Kevin William Paul x fem!reader

"It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you."

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

It was a cold yet peaceful night. The moon was out and so were the stars, yet some of them were covered by clouds. I walked hand in Han d with Kevin, the once vibrant and loud state of the city now quiet and calm.

I pressed myself against Kevin as much as I could, desperate for any source of warmth. My sweater clearly wasn't enough. Kevin saw this and simply smile, before taking off his jacket and placing it over my shoulders. His hand made its way to my shoulder, and rubbed it gently as he spoke.

"Better baby?"

"Mhhm"

Our walk to the park was quiet, besides the occasional complaint of the cold from me, and a random comment from Kevin, it was quiet.

"Kev?" I began, leaning my head on his shoulder as we continued walking.

"Yeah baby?" He responded, holding me close as we crossed the street and made it to the entrance of the park.

"What are we doin' at the park this late?" Maybe it was the sleepiness, or the couple of glasses of wine I had, but my curiosity always got the best of me.

"You'll see honey." Kevin replied, guiding me to one of the parks benches.

I looked up at the stars, my body leaning on Kevin's as I spoke.

"They're so pretty, I could look at the forever" Little did I know, Kevin was looking right at me when I said those words.

"Yeah, yeah she is baby." I continued looking up, feeling Kevin shuffle around me. He moved, which caused me to whine since I couldn't lean on him anymore. I looked down, expecting him to be tying his shoe or adjusting his pant leg.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Kevin, kneeling down on one knee in front of me. A teasing, yet slightly nervous smile on his face.

“Honey” He began, his eyes never leaving mine as he reached into his pocket.

“Kev-Kevin what are you doing?” I asked, shocked.

“Get up kev-“

“Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew I wanted you.

————————— flashback —————————

It was January 2023, in La Jolla, California. I was living alone. I had just gone through a really rough breakup, and desperately needed an escape.

I laid on the sand, the darkness of the night keeping me calm and safe like a warm blanket. There was a group of people playing volleyball nearby, but I didn’t pay them any mind.

My eyes were shut, trying so hard to keep the tears from flowing down my cheeks. I had been listening to music during my walk, and since I forgot to pause it, it continued playing. This time, it was playing Marry you, by Bruno Mars.

Which for some reason made me start crying even more, because I couldn’t relate the song anymore. As I was laying, slowly letting the exhaustion take over me, the volleyball from the nearby group rolled over and hit my head. Not to hard, thank gosh.

I groaned, sitting up while grabbing the ball. I look over to the group, hearing a chorus of ‘Sorry!’ And ‘are you okay?!’ coming from them. Just as I stood up, someone from that group came over to me.

It was a man, his soft black hair and brown eyes capturing my attention. God, he was so beautiful.

“Im so so sorry, are you okay?” He asked, causing me to stand up and try to blink away the tears. Still forgetting to pause the music.

“Y-yeah im okay, it’s no problem.” He looked at me, seemingly unconvinced that I was okay mentally. I could see it in his eyes, he felt bad.

He then looked down at my phone, seeing the song on my phone.

“Bruno Mars?” He asked, placing the ball on the ground before picking up my phone and dusting it off, getting rid of any sand.

“Yeah, he’s a good artist.” I replied, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to keep the cold away. He looked down at the song and chuckled lightly, before handing back my phone.

“Hey do you wanna, do you wanna hang out with me and my friends? Just so you’re not alone?” He asked, a nervous yet charming smile on his face.

I was shocked, I had just met this guy, and now he wanted me to hang out with him and his friends. All I could do, was agree.

——————— flashback over ————————

“From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you had to be mine. And I can’t wait any longer. So..” He paused, pulling out the small ring box from his pocket, and opening it.

The ring was beautiful, a gold band with a simple diamond adorning it. I couldn’t help but gasp.

“Kev..” I whined anxiously, tears brimming my eyes as I looked down at him.

“Will you marry me?” Those four words made me break.

With tears in my eyes, I nodded my head.

“Yes-yes I’ll marry you!” Kevin smiled at my words, and quickly placed the ring on my finger, before pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

The kiss was sweet, his hands holding me by my waist, keeping me close.

I couldn’t believe it, I was getting married to the love of my life. And I couldn’t be more happier.

———————————————————————

Authors Note: GUYS I LOVE THIS FIC SMMMM!! Please keep the requests coming I love hearing your ideas and bringing them to life!

[rhithefella-sillytimes]

(Another 5 sentence fanfic thing bc I'm evil :3)

A voice could be heard from a speaker, heavily distorded. "Very well, I'll give you an extra option. See that extra option? Click it, and something else will happen, and you four will be released."

Tired and scared, they obviously did it. But they weren't ready for what they were going to see.

A TV screen turned on, 4 girls visible on the screen, each of them blindfolded, a gun pointed at them.

"They'll be taking the hits for you."

"Good luck."

The boys looked up in shock, clearly struggling to process what was happening in front of them. They knew who these four were. There was their friend, the leader of the school's editorial team. There was a student from a rival school that they've gotten along with. There was a girl that they knew around town, and- oh FUCK IS THAT SAMUEL'S SISTER?

And they were stuck in a moving vehicle, being held at gunpoint by a person on the passenger seat and seemingly helpless to whatever happens next. Also on the monitor were names, each one of them numbered.

Still bound to their chairs, Roderick, Samuel and Jeremy all stared at each other. They sat with a collective dread, afraid that the timer would tick down and sound out its fanfare of death.

Everything was quiet, save for the noises the TV screen made as it buzzed slightly, still showing the dreadful footage. The silence was chilling, and made the group feel worse as they all felt like they could do nothing and-

A hoarse, but ear-piercing yell could be heard from one of the corners of the room.

The three turn their heads, and they see who had been screaming. It was... Kevin. He was in a much worse condition than the others after the last voting round, and hearing his screams felt both like a miracle and a curse to the group.

Roderick calls out to him. "Kev! No, don't freak out you'll get more hurt-"

"WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO YOU, YOU ALMOST KILLED ME, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!", Kev growled, coughing and spitting right after.

Roderick was about to say something back, but Samuel had called out to him already. "Rod, wait! You might make it worse. Just... drop it for a minute, okay?"

Jay sighed. "Let me talk to him."

He waited for Kevin's breathing to slow, perhaps as an indicator of sorts that they were ready to listen. He wasn't able to see it happen though, but Kevin was staring at him instead.

"Look... Kevin... just. Stay put, okay?", he asked softly. They replied with a slow nod, and he continues. "Okay... good... I don't want you to get even more hurt than you are now."

Another slow nod.

"Okay... okay... so... here's the plan. Let's just... wait for what'll happen next. I don't want to kill someone with a vote."

"Yeah right, as if not voting will save any of them. You do remember what happened to us if we don't vote, right?", Samuel butts in, causing the conversing pair to look at him.

Kevin started to shake again, tears welling in his almost glazed eyes. "Wh-what do we do... I don't want to... I can't...", he sobbed, wincing in pain as salty tears hit the wounds on his face.

Jeremy glared at Samuel, sighing. "Sam, now's not the time. I know it's dangerous to not choose, but you know what's worse? Getting someone killed on the get-go. That almost happened with Kev, and I won't let this happen to anyone else.", he said firmly, clenching his fist as he did.

Samuel opened his mouth to speak but then-

The deafening fanfare had started to play again, and the timer ticked down.

Everyone froze in place, save for Kevin's slight shudder and heavy breaths from every one of the boys. There were glances and glares shared between each other, eyes intensely staring at their hands and the dials on the chairs.

The haunting melody comes to an end, but nothing happened. Well, not to them, at least.

The monitors tell... a completely different story.

"Ah, so they haven't chosen, hm?", the driver asked, their strange voice emanating from the speakers.

"Very well." They sigh playfully, before gesturing to the person on the passenger seat. The other person prepared the pistol, ready to shoot.

But before the boys could see what would happen next... the car goes through a tunnel, shrouding the scene with darkness and obscuring what little they could witness. Although it is dark, they can still hear sounds they wouldn't wish to hear in their lives.

Four gunshots, and a cacophony of yells.

...

...

The car finishes its journey through the tunnel, and the boys see that... the girls are still alive, albeit much more frightened than they were initially. The driver cleared their throat, before letting their voice spew through the speakers once more.

"These are simply warning shots, boys. They might not be so lucky next time. Now... vote. Or not, I won't force you. You do know what'll happen, though."

These sickening statements made Samuel's heart sink. His eyes focus on his sister, who was shaking quietly. Her arms were clasped together, and she was muttering something under her breath. A prayer.

He can't let her die there. He won't let her. And in his mind, a thought repeats itself.

We should vote. We should all fucking vote. There's no escaping it.

He looks over at Jeremy, who was looking back at him. His lips were pressed shut, and his eyebrows were furrowed.

With the way they were sharing glares, it was almost as if they were in some duel. And like bullets in a duel, words flew from their mouths.

"Don't say we need to vote-" "We need to vote, Jay.-"

And... they look at each other again. Jeremy laughs defeatedly to himself, pressing his palm on his forehead. "Sam... this is ridiculous."

"Jay, I know... but can't you see? If we don't vote, they'll all die. You don't want that, right?"

"Yes but... I-I can't kill any them. They're my friends. Th-they're yours too. Right?"

"So you're saying we should let them die?"

"I'M NOT SAYING THAT, YOU'RE JUST PUTTING WORDS I DIDN'T SAY!"

"THAT'S BASICALLY WHAT YOU WANT TO HAPPEN, JEREMY! AREN'T YOU HEARING YOURSELF? You don't want to make a choice, so it'd probably be best for you if they all died!"

"That's enough, shut the fuck up!", a voice cried out from one of the corners of the room. It was Roderick. He had been mostly quiet ever since he and Sam made the choice that almost killed Kevin.

"Yelling your asses off won't do a thing! The timer will still play and they'll still be in danger! Arguing is just gonna make things worse for us... and for them. We need to help. To discuss on what to do."

"He's right...", Kevin murmured, before coughing. "Let's not... fight like last time... please..."

Jeremy gave him a dead-eyed glare. "So you two are gonna vote too? Is that it?"

"What? No..."

"I'm not saying that-"

"Fine, I'll bite. I'll vote, if that's what makes you happy.", Jeremy said with a groan. And almost on cue, the speakers played that oh so lovely tune.

And a few seconds later, a dial beep could be heard. Sam looked over at Jeremy, and he just glared back. He sighs, reaching over to his chair's dial and casting a vote too.

Roderick and Kevin looked at each other. Rod sighed, and Kevin held back tears. And before the other two could turn their heads, two more beeps were heard as the music came to a stop.

"What did you guys do?!", Jeremy exclaimed.

"Jay... Sam... I won't let you kill our friends.", Roderick said with a defeated tone.

The driver on the screen laughed, before looking over to the gunman. The gunman returned a laugh, before spinning the barrel of their pistol and aiming it to the girls.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

"Ah... they didn't hit. Oh well, we'll get them next time. Go on, keep talking."

A sigh of relief from the four boys were heard, until the dread settled on them again. They were lucky this time. What's going to happen next time? What if they did hit? They were all aware of that possibility, and they didn't want it to happen.

As they were trying to come to terms with what may happen next, Kevin looked over at Roderick. Roderick turned his head toward him, noticing that he was pointing at the monitor with their shaky hands and also slightly smiling. Roderick looked over and his eyes blinked in disbelief.

Sam's sister had her blindfolds off, and was trying to sneakily get the others to take theirs off.

Roderick looked back at Kevin, and they mouthed a question to him.

"What do we do? We can't let those guys see them."

Rod nods at Kev, before clearing his throat.

"Jay, Sam, look at me."

The other two looked.

"I think I have a plan. We should try to get out of here. I'm sure these chairs have worn out a little, let's try breaking out of them again."

Sam looked confused. "We tried earlier, remember? We tried."

"We can try again. Fuck, you're the one who said that we shouldn't just stop now.", Roderick smiled, before reaching to the chains around his waist. He tried to twist them, getting them to snap.

The others followed suit, and this seemed to capture the attention of the driver and the gunman as they shared confused looks to each other in the monitor. They squinted, leaning forward from their seats.

Kevin looked to the monitor, hoping that they don't look away from the commotion as he can see the girls having successfully freed their eyes from the blindfold.

Samuel's sister, the tallest in the group, was sneakily waiting from behind the driver's seat. The cloth used for her blindfold was now tightly wrapped around her fists. On the other side was the young reporter, doing the same thing but for the gunman. She gives the lady a nod and they both lunge forward, catching them off guard. The reporter yells at the other two girls, and they did a mad scramble to grab the wheel and the gun.

The chaos that unfolded made the boys look up. If only they had the strength to, they'd cheer wildly for them. They managed to see the rival student successfully take over the wheel when one of the girls knocked the camera from where it was propped up, and it falls to the car's floor as the monitor cuts to static.

Everything felt... uneasy afterwards. None of them knew what happened next, but there was a tiny sense of hope that could be felt. Perhaps, they survived.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll get them out of there.

[klasdfghjk]

What did you think when you left me this way

by Lingering_Bastard

Chapter 3: We Live On

Ok, getting broken up with? Sucks.

In between the sobbing, every inhale bringing in an icy sharp breath that burns my throat, and tears streaming down my face onto Kev’s jacket sleeves, staining them black with mascara as I painfully swipe at my eyes; I suddenly realize a strong contender to the “this sucks” hierarchy. I mean, as stupid as it sounds, that in this very moment I can be thinking of anything other than walking out of that party a single woman.

These shoes might have been perfect to wear all night for an indoor party, but now with the reckless idea of walking home executed, blisters have begun to form at the back of my heels, and they hurt like a bitch.

So, getting your heart broken sucks, but wearing the wrong shoes to the break up is just slightly more criminal.

“You’ve got to be kidding, oh fuck.” I swear out loud, noticing the burning of skin is actually becoming unbearable, and pause my walk. Through bleary eyes I look around the empty street, noticing how much I’ve managed to walk, fiercely trapped in miserable sentiments. My breath comes out in puffs of white, a dying street lamp pitying me.

‘Well screw you, your only job is to light up and you can’t even do that right’

It’s colder out in the open, though with a warmed-up body all it does is numb my face. I’m just a few blocks from my house, that distance is mocking me more than my smeared makeup. With that thought, I wipe with dirty sleaves again. Geez, these tears are unrelenting.

“God I’m an embarrassment.” I mumble, kicking at the lamppost helplessly. It only flickers meekly in response.

I’m almost content to keep standing here, no movement to ignite the pain of the blisters, no huffing in chilly air rushing to get home. My mind starts drifting to my now seemly comfortable bed, still messy with clothes I was debating on wearing this night. Wrapped dinner in the fridge I could heat up, my appetite randomly coming back to life. And I did promise myself a hot chocolate. Ugh, and I have to wash my face before sleep even if I really don’t want to… I wonder if Kevin is still at the party. It's late, maybe he got sick of it and went home? Or maybe he went back inside, with his newfound single life, and instantly start flirting with someone once I left? There were so many hot people to pick from. I can visualize it now, him smashing down a few drinks, charming his way into a group of strangers. Oh shit, there was that one girl who had the hots for him, Leo? Yeah, she looked properly high and dressed to impress. He could be balls deep in her right now, I saw the top bedroom was empty, is he even the type to fuck after a breakup heck WE didn’t even go further than over the clothes stuff-

And I'm overthinking again.

As if the universe was sick of my pathetic head ramblings, a car passes through the street ahead of me, reminding me I am still crying in the middle of a random sidewalk at midnight and not at home, a better place to spiral into insecurity. Also, that car was a little off the middle lane, sir you are lucky I’m not a cop because that’s some drunk driving. I grit my teeth, pain be damned, do a once over around me finding I’m still pleasantly alone on this walk, and take off one reluctant step at a time towards my house.

Against better judgment, and still angry at the thought that my Ex is now ~thoroughly~ enjoying the party that is surely still raging on, I decide on a shortcut through the park. It’s not much of a park as it is a few bushes and a playground, used mainly by smoking school kids ditching class.

Thank a clear sky and a bright moon, I don’t see anyone waiting to stab me in the night for, what, a piece of gum in my front pocket and a beat-up phone? What a score. I still walk as briskly as possible.

Unfortunately, my worst enemy doesn’t come in the form of a stranger in the bushes, my wild imagination conjuring up images of horned demons coming for my skin rather than a bored serial killer.

No, my enemy stays at it as always been, mother nature herself.

It’s a gravel path, how hard can it be to walk a gravel path? I’ve passed the slides and swing set and am well on my way to the freedom of the next street when I stop paying attention to the ground, looking around the familiar houses, ready for the home stretch. Too focused on the routine picket fences rotting away in this forgotten suburbia: I trip over a goddamn stick.

My feet are already clumsy from the burning pain of blisters and strained from the walk, they don’t even try to catch my balance as I lurch forward, vision going black for a moment as my forehead hits those stupid posts they put in front of parks to stop cars swerving in and such. Well, stupid cars didn’t hit them, I did. And the forehead collision is followed up with my knees smacking into the concrete sidewalk hard.

I gasp, breathless and dizzy, falling to my shoulder, then rolling onto my back with the final momentum from my trip.

I don’t immediately acknowledge the pain, the hot blood now trickling down my forehead, or look down to my scraped knees. A night in which too much has happened in such a short amount of time, my attention drifts towards the stars. The stars that have seen this whole night: A whole meltdown and a half lasting from my bedroom, through a car trip, on a balcony next to a pool. All the events that led up to this entire predicament. A night that in storybooks would have been a heart-to-heart conversation of apologies and teary-eyed kisses and “I’ll never hurt you again” promises.

Not whatever this is.

Slowly, as if figuring out the right key to play, my brain halts all function. All thoughts buzz out and narrow into one solid, sorrowful feeling. A hurt that seemed so old, too out of place for my own head, passed on from a harrowed soul and thrust into me just so I could feel it too. Now, bubbling up from deep in my chest, I burst. Still, on the cold ground, the fiery hurt spreads through my body. A trembling mess, teeth biting into my covered arms trying to muffle sounds as excruciating wails and screams leave me without permission. My legs flail and kick, the air, the ground, the fucking feeling that was so unexplainable and agonizing.

This is what he did to me.

--

The short tantrum overstays its welcome, but I have the sense to know I’m a couple of blocks from my house from where I’m bleeding on this park pavement. As soon as I get up and dust whatever I can off, I almost run home. The pain of moving my sore limbs and bleeding soles is better than crying the night out at the park entrance, alerting concerned neighbors, and maybe earning a call to my parents.

I’m limping down my driveway, rather pissed at the automatic light sensor ratting me out. I pause for a beat, looking for movement in the windows. A sigh of relief escapes me, seems the surprise spotlight didn’t get me caught. Not that I’m sneaking back in, of course, I just look like a banshee leaving a funeral.

Rounding the house into the backyard, I sit on the decking and practically rip off the offending shoes, crying in relief as I free my feet. They aren’t bad shoes, they really aren’t. I’ll just have to tape up my heels next time. Sure. I still throw them onto the shoe pile the door without a care.

One hand dabs the blood on my forehead with the now ruined sleeves of this jacket, another quietly slides open the back door. Thank fuck mum left it open for me. I patter across the house, making it successfully to my bedroom without waking anyone. I really can’t deal with a talk right now; I wouldn’t know what to tell them. I’d probably just start crying again until someone drove up to Eva’s house and dragged her son across the front lawn. I almost smile at the thought of it. It’s just a bit too soon.

But it’s not too soon to change out of my party clothes into a comfortable hoodie to drown in. I patch up my knees before I tug on some sweatpants. Then in the bathroom, I wash off the makeup and patch up the rest. It’s gonna be bad, bruised. A lot of fun explaining to do but at least saying I was clumsy isn’t far from the truth.

Then, no doubt between despair and also anger, I grab Kev’s discarded, make-up-stained, and blood-soaked jacket. I really don’t want to wake anyone up, but this has to be done, it’s all my brain can think about. Over months of self-doubt and heartache over a stupid boy, I at least deserve to give myself the closure he didn’t give me. I creep outside again. Extremely carefully. Like- giving a cat burglar a run for their money, carefully. Stepping over the creaks and placing my feet down extra lightly. I can now enjoy the crisp night air, all snuggled up. A hoodie that smells like me, one that Kev had never even seen.

Without hesitation, I throw this stupid relic, the last remnants of our bond, into the fit pit. I don’t look away even when the smoke makes my eyes water.

I keep the fire burning until dawn, sneaking in once to grab my dinner. There is an unexplainable peace I felt at devouring the heated up leftovers, and of course, a nice big cup of hot chocolate to remedy my scrapes and bruises.

Mum finds me in the dewy morning, shivering and dull-eyed, still tending to the ashes of the flames I lit. Not a scrap of Kevin remained.

- Two Months Later-

A full house, a busy basement. A room full of smoke and sin, now a rather normal setting for me.

My eyes are dry and glassy, I giggle at the feeling as I place the bong back on the painted coffee table. I’d already spent way too long staring at the detailed cartoonish characters but whenever there was a lull in the conversation, I’d find myself drifting back to it, even when there was plenty of eye candy around the room to check out.

“Nina, thank you for being a clingy bitch.” I sigh as I sink into the plush if not kind of gross couch, smiling down at her grinning reaction.

“Nooo, thank you for being my social anxiety rock.” Nina nuzzles against my legs from her place cross-legged on the floor. She’s almost too cute in this setting, the blond curls tied up in a bun slowly falling apart, and a loud tie die tee that only she could pull off, I’m almost tempted to tell her she looked more at home here than half the people in this basement.

“I’d say get a room.” The familiar stranger next to me, a girl I think from the year above me, jokes, “But what’s a good friendship without an abundance of homoerotic subtext?”

“Mm, true. I’ll keep my intentions questionable Laura.” Nina winks, and reaches for a lighter.

Sure, I said this time I’d be sober, but that basically went straight-out the window the moment I entered Eddie’s overly familiar basement. Well, Eddie's now out of school so I suppose I’d have the right to call it his sister’s hang out now?

They both have the luxury of frequently absent parents and use that freedom, or rather misuse, for it to basically be an open house for all their friends’ mischievous endeavours. Drugs and parties mainly. It’s not always this full on, all the times I have been over it’s actually been pretty quiet. Casual movie nights eating edibles or being introduced to DnD. Any grander party was spread out to more outgoing groups.

So, it was defiantly strange to see the whole house this full.

Some of Eddie’s older friends offered as soon as I arrived, but band-tee and ripped jean wearing Laura swooped in like a mother hen and didn’t let us touch anything else but her own personal stash.

“Trust most of these sloths haven’t washed their gear since they bought it, don’t want mold in your lungs do ya?” She lectured, “And the blunts might be laced, they are collage sleezebags babe. Wouldn’t put it past them.” It felt nice to be looked after.

She said she swore she knew me from a previous night out but I swore I didn’t remember her. We’ve concluded I was just a bit to blacked on Xan’s and tequila, which seems fair. I’ve sort of been putting anything offered into my body for the past two months. It’s even felt pretty good, I can’t lie. And no one has even pretended to be worried. Any and all breakup sadness is pretty much erased in drugs, which I know know know is stupid and I have to stop before it’s, like, stealing from mum’s wallet bad. But just for today, tonight, I let myself relax against that worrisome tide of thoughts and smoke.

The next hit Nina takes is way too strong and she ends up blank faced and staring at the canopy covered ceiling, I let her head rest between my knees and lightly play with her escaping hair. Laura gets knocked closer to me and another guest squeezes themselves onto the couch.

“We are at capacity dude!” She groans over her shoulder, then smiles back to me. “This scene is fun and all but by god do I miss like, bike rides am I right?”

“I don’t even remember the last time I rode a bike.” That’s a lie, I do. It involved a certain dark-haired archer and a craving for strawberry milk. I still pass that convenience store every other day.

“I know right?” Laura gawks, eyes rolling playfully, “Free entertainment we never use. Oh, you owe me for the weed by the way.”

“Figures, I’ll pay for Nina too.” I pull out the bills I prepared beforehand from my pocket. Of course, I knew this was going to happen. Nina always ends up owing someone money. And last time she snorted coke that wasn’t hers was the last time I’d arrived at a party without what I dub ‘bail money’. “She’s broke as ever. I think her last dollar went to a parking ticket.”

“Fuck those, government cash grabs.” She accepts my cash, pulling out a twenty from the stack and handing it back without a single word. Huh, how generous.

“So,” She leans in mischievously, “Guys or girls?” Yeah, no playing around with this one, Laura has turned out to be overly comfortable with strangers.

“Uh-” I’m taken aback by her abrupt quizzing. This usually wouldn’t be the type of question to stir me at parties, but for the longest time I’d become accustomed by answering ‘taken’. The fact that I now can't use it as an option hit me, and I'm left speechless for a second..

“Shhe-” Slurred Nina, suddenly stirring to life after talk of money had passed over, “Is attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses only.”

“Doesn’t that sum it up.” I snort, thankful for the intrusion.

“Oh, stupid crush or bad break up? No don’t even answer, it’s a terrible topic to talk about when high.” Laura shakes her head, “Once on LSD I spent like an hour crying over my Ex to this random at a club. She broke up with me for, wait for it, my cousin.”

“Cunt!” I gape in playful offense, hand to my sternum as Nina and me give our “awws” in sympathy.

“I know right?” She rolls her eyes, absentmindedly rubbing her neck, “Doesn’t matter, they moved away now. Separately I might add. So, I just…don’t even have to see them anymore.”

“Did you get over it?” Nina asks without even thinking about how rude it might sound, but Laura just laughs and moves to stand up.

“Yeah actually. It’s whatever now but shit, could’ve saved me the months of dating.” Ah, she gets it. “I’m gonna pee, please save my spot?”

“Will do.” Nina agrees. They switch places in different tones, Laura having practiced balance and grace, while my stoned friend lazily crawls up to park her butt on the now vacant space on the couch, “Safe~ In exchange, please get me snacks from the kitchen, I am hungry!”

“One order of munchies on the way babe.” Our senior stalks off with a wink and a wave, then disappears up the stairs.

As she does, a familiar set of legs descend and I choke.

Fuck, now how could I forget, this isn’t just some random party. In-between the unplanned smoking and getting my heart fluttering around Laura, it slipped my mind that I was never going to come here. Not when I heard he was invited.

I’d been avoiding him at every single opportunity I could. I think he was too. Wait, no, there isn’t a “think” in that, everything Kevin does is intentional.

That’s why I’m pleased as fuck when I see the brief surprise in his eyes as he descends into the suffocating tendrils of smoke.

- Kevin –

She didn’t come to school for a week.

I was way past the phase of “beginning to worry”, because the truth was my anxiety begun the same night we parted. She should have gotten home fine in theory. Observant, strong, and a good runner, especially in a bind. No doubt she didn’t need a chaperone for the walk, yet it didn’t put my mind at ease. I wouldn’t be able to text and check if she got home safe. I wouldn’t know anything until I saw her at school again.

Every step back to my house that night was a battle, as thoughts of her ending up dead on the news, though as impossible as the odds were, invaded my rational thought. That was in between the foreign feeling of tears streaming down my face. I hoped like a computer virus this unpacking of emotions would be wiped clean after sobbing until I was an unsightly mess in the driveway, but any numbness I felt afterward was temporary.

My room felt a little emptier than before, I’d spent the weeks leading up to the break up slowly getting rid of her belongings. Little things at first, forgotten hair ties and stationery. Then books she’d gifted with the mischievous smile of harboring an inside joke, one I’d figure out if I read the damn thing. Of course I did, I read all of them. Then, with the weight of losing all those annotated pages with her scribblings, doodles, and cute messages, I promptly burned all of them.

It would have been difficult to lose her all at once, though not to delude myself, losing her at all is still painful. But now, my room barren of her traces, it weighed on me that I finally accomplished it. Cut off the last loose ends. Connection to humanity, or, something. Whatever you would call it. I wonder would I even be willing to shoot her, if I went through with it. Would she guess it, see it coming? Or is there still enough blind faith to interrupt her better judgment as I lead the sheep to their slaughter.

Oh, that’s, no, the fuck? What the fuck am I even thinking, after that messy night it’s just time to sleep and forget about the evening.

I didn’t go to sleep instantly, making a point to take a shower as if I could wash off this whole situation- I mean at least I could wash off the beer, sweat and tears. Then crawling naked under the sheets, tossing and turning under the suddenly uncomfortable sheets, failing at quelling the thoughts of her not making it home safe, a guilty portion of my brain remembers one item of hers I didn’t get rid of. One I tell myself I’m too tired to throw out, I’ll do tomorrow, I defiantly won’t forget. A stupid T-shirt tucked right in the back of my purposefully unfilled wardrobe.

I defiantly don’t fall asleep to escape that thought.

When she didn’t show up on Monday, the war of conflicting emotions begun their battle. Of course, there was immense relief from not having to face her. Who would want to see their ex so quickly after a breakup? The best medicine is forgetting, avoiding. She was probably feeling the same, maybe even sick from the cold walk home. Maybe she was avoiding the History pop quiz. Normal reasons.

But then the other side of my mind begged to differ. The panic of not being able to text and ask if she became a dead body on the weekend. If she was having a depressive spiral. Would it be good or bad if she wanted to transfer schools?

At least Tuesday brought the answer that she was sick, as I’d overheard her friends talking. But that didn’t tell me how sick. When she was coming back or…. if she was coming back.

Damn, I hated not knowing things. It certainly was a new feeling; one I really could’ve gone without.

The entire week was dragging on as she didn’t appear, day after day. Uneventful class after boring lunchtime periods. I really should have been reveling in this freedom. Time to work on the plan, time in my own head with my own thoughts. It had to be just the shock of pace changing. I could not stay like this forever.

Wait stay like what, again? Heartbroken- wait no. That’s not fucking it. I did my time, I cried, I got over it.

What’s the problem of moving on? Sure, it was a feeling I’d never experienced before. But once the initial shock and fear of all those new sensations wore out, my so-called love for her just melts into a period where I was doing unnecessary and distractive activities. I just wanted to see what the fuss was about, yeah.

Why is it so impossible to convince myself this time around? Years of confidence, following the role of a narcissistic psychopath. I’d never stumbled, not like this.

Next Monday, with immense relief of a tidal wave, she entered the classroom. Instantly shattered by noticing her physical state.

Sure, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary when she, completely ignoring me, waltzed over to her friends, reuniting with hugs and smiles. She quickly explained away the old bruising, week-old bruising I noted, on her face. A scabbing gash on her forehead that I bet could have concussed her, hidden under some sneaky hair placement and light makeup. Though that made my heart sink, I wondered, have they noticed her paling skin and darkened eye bags? Do they see how disconnected from the world her mind seemed? Because they better. I wasn’t here for her anymore, and pushed down the guilt her state caused me.

How did she get the injuries? I wanted to know what she was doing all week. It was really chewing at me. And that was unproductive. As she took her seat, I bit my tongue and forced my head down. If I was going to get better from whatever my brain wasn’t letting go of, I’d have to do what I did best. Overwork and disconnect from reality. I’d have to forget what was right in front of me. A walking, talking reminder of the past. Still alive, but dead in all sense but physical.

I’d spend the next few weeks with her ghost surrounding me. Tuning out her voice, memorizing her walking patterns to avoid clashing. Making sure we were never at the same gatherings or parties, which I’m sure she was too.

And for weeks, I swear I could still see her out of the corner of my eye as I picked up the bow, practicing for what was to come. She’d still be candidly relaxing in the grass, lying down, feet up, chin resting in her palm. She was always watching away, hyper-focused, and judging my every move.

“Hope it was worth it.” Her mouth moved but I didn’t hear the words so much as visualize them, every syllable punctuated, angry and disappointed. I had no answer for her, and instead drew back the bowstring, hitting the bullseye.

- MC -

It was earlier at school that day, he’d been chatting up the rabble and that included Eddie’s sister, being invited over for the house party.

So now I knew he was going, and that meant that event was off-limits to me. Later in class that day I’d been asked, within his earshot, if I was going to the event, I naturally declined, making some sort of excuse. The importance was that’s how we usually coordinated our territory. One of us declined or accepted an invite out loud so the other knew. But after two months, I was getting really sick of it. Why not just act like normal exes that can be around each other? I really didn’t have a problem going to a massive party with him in it. We wouldn’t even see each other a lot, he’s already proved to me he can disappear in a crowd.

He hears me decline, so if he shows up tonight, he’ll be in for a bit of a shock. I wonder if he’ll get the message that I don’t care, see it as a war declaration, or maybe not even notice. Probably the latter, actually. I think I forget that, he really doesn’t give a second thought about me these days. So yeah, I’m tired of playing this silly game of who owns which party and hangout.

Though, I’d be lying if I didn’t consider backing out of this plan until Nina triple texted me in a hurry, telling me she was too nervous to go by herself and get high alone, in a room full of strangers. Who could say no when she added three crying face emojis right after?

- Kevin -

It’s a miracle I didn’t miss a step and fall down the stairs, what the hell is she doing here?

My stoic mask drops just a hint as we make eye contact, she probably wasn’t planning on locking eyes either, as she quickly drops my gaze and I follow suit. Though not after noticing that she was indeed getting high which she knows I didn’t like her doing previously, but live your life it’s whatever. Apart from pissing me off by apparently deciding the rules didn’t apply anymore to not show up to the same event, why is she cuddling up so tightly with Nina? I mean they are practically lovebirds snuggling on the couch, the blonde’s leg casually linked around her ankle-

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Why are you thinking about it? Shit, I came down here to talk with, who again?

I try to make the break in my stride look natural, blood pumping so vigorously I could hear my heartbeat. And to my better judgment, I don't side-eye her as I walk past the couch. This is just a new scenario, albeit unwelcome. A challenge even. We don’t actually have to talk. Just exist in each other’s presence, pretend that this isn’t becoming as daunting as a knife fight.

Now that she saw me here, I’ll have to show some face before I leave, otherwise I'll just look chicken running away. That is a bother, since I’m pretty sure the smoke in here is potent enough to get high on fumes.

- MC -

I don’t want to laugh, I should be at peace with seeing him, and maybe slightly irritated. But the look on his face was priceless and I struggle to hide a giggle into Nina’s shoulder. It’s like I finally, even if for a moment, was a step above him. Then of course the panic I’ve been dreading floods through, sinking me lower into the hold of Nina’s arms; This may have actually been a mistake.

It’s not as if I’m seeing him again for the first time, heck, I even saw him earlier in the day. But that was in the only setting I’d become used to seeing him. Hidden away in the back of a classroom, or halfway across the school campus. An unavoidable fortress of the education system, confining us together without consent.

Ok, I might have considered moving schools’ the week of the breakup. Explaining myself to my mum that morning, freezing and injured in front of a dying flame, was mildly humiliating for me, if not worrying for her. Of course, parents aren’t oblivious, they were teenagers once too; she was worried more about bullying or assault. I could have played into that, quickly changed to a high school on the other side of town. The commute may have been longer, and I would have to begin the whole cycle of making new friends again. But moving just because I was a little heartbroken seemed silly, especially since Kev still lived nearby, and we shared a few acquaintances. NO- the mess of moving school wouldn’t help anything; I’d just be dragging myself deeper into denial.

I just spent a week being depressed enough to qualify as a 18th-century poet, went on a heartbreak diet of tea and, frankly not much else, then cleaned up my act as soon as I came back to school. Apart from the more-then-occasional drug use. I was fine. I am fine.

But back to the intruder of the room, suddenly seeing Kev outside of school for the first time since, well, the night, I couldn’t say I hated it. Couldn’t say it didn’t make me feel like a caged rat either.

Nina had defiantly noticed my discomfort, my shoulders stiffened, and my back angled uncomfortably against the couch when I subconsciously slid further into it. She had been lazily smooshed against my body, almost cat-like, singing along to whatever song was playing. I hadn’t recognized most songs that came from the stereo, carelessly shoved into the corner of the basement. The lyrics slowly fade out from her as she turns at my unease.

“Hey, you alright? You’ve gone a bit stiff.” Her voice was sleepy, but still genuinely concerned.

I realize I have the opportunity to play it off as a bad trip, but I can’t; I really want to get higher. I decide to do just that and fix my position. I give her a sigh, sitting up, and reach towards my prize on the coffee table. The bowl was still packed with enough to take a few good hits without grinding up more, I don’t think Laura would appreciate me misusing her good will.

Nina is still confused as I silently pull in the smoke, throat burning and eyes watering. But I’m not going to leave her hanging. After draining whatever mystery drink I had in my cup, almost forgotten on the table, I place everything back and lean into the safety of my friend. My mouth close to her ear.

“Don’t look, but Kev just strolled in.” I whisper it, trying to move my mouth as little as possible. I mean, the basement was big and loud, but I’d rather lose a limb than let him know I was gossiping. Nina scrunches up her face, scoffing without a care of confidentiality. Ok, don’t make it obvious babe.

“No really? Ugh. Do you want to leave? We can leave if he’s making things uncomfortable.” She’s genuine about that, but I just shake my head.

“Why would he make things uncomfortable?” Could have made a better response than that, I’m still battling not to look over and check what he’s doing.

“Do you think I’m oblivious?” She rolls her eyes at me, “You were like, so depressed when you broke up with that psycho. Your face was all bashed in-“

“I fell.” I correct, as I have multiple times to many people after my injuries were questioned. Not that our relationship was a big secret, but it almost surprised me how many of my friends suspected he was becoming physically abusive and that’s why we broke up. Yeah, the emotional manipulation towards the end, that was a deep hurt for sure. But he was never even that physical when it came to candid touching.

“Yeah, well, you went a bit weird on us when you broke up. Actually, it was already sort of weird when you were dating him.” Her voice drifts off at the end a bit, touching a sore subject.

“First time I’m hearing that.” I groan, unamused.

“Yeah well, no one wanted to say anything. He’s just kind of, I don’t know. Offputting. C’mon, you’d know best! He just gives off these vibes, like he knows a secret we don't. And he's got this weird narcissistic complex. I'm not that into psychology, but I can feel when something's up.” Nina babbles on.

She wouldn’t be wrong with that one. Learning who Kevin is, habits, traits and thoughts, was like finding out an uncanny secret. Parts that shouldn’t work, a design that seemed like a flawed structure. Then, you would dig deeper and find out it was you who didn’t understand. There was a certain magic around Kev that could either pull you in so close it was suffocating, or, well push you away. In either fear or uncertainty.

Well, I shouldn’t give him much praise for that, since I have to remember the manipulation. How he sees people as malleable, either useful or not. Not wholly like a psychopath, at least what I believed, it was more how he preferred to function. Both a rebellious act to the status quo, to the privileged upbringing he resented, and also practical to his nature. Which happens to also be his downfall.

“Let’s not talk about this Nina, I was just letting you know.” I sigh in annoyance.

I don’t want to talk about him, and I haven’t. This is beyond personal, it was forbidden. When that part of my life ended, it was burned away. Literally. I know my friends want me to open up, you can’t just break up with someone and not have a good bitch session about it. But I refused to indulge them with my rants. I couldn’t say he was some asshole I dated. He was an enigma I fell in love with, and I didn’t understand him enough. Of course, he dropped me. I was boring him, right?

Ugh, no not that thought spiral. No speculating on why.

I just told everyone the relationship was over. Just like that. Putting out a flame. No dramas or cheating or infighting. Defiantly no abuse. There was just nothing left. Not enough to keep us together and too much to pull us apart.

Don’t make it any more complicated than that.

“I’m being annoying, aren’t I? I’m soorrryy.” She rubs her cheek against mine, ok defiantly cat-like, and I giggle out an apology. Just then Laura returns.

“Hey, sorry that took a while.” Instead of moving to sit down she puts a hand on her hip and points her thumb back to the stairs. “Ed is being a real brat about letting me take food down here so we might have to move this to the living room. No smoking upstairs though.”

“Checks out.” I sigh. Nina is reluctant to stand but I pull her up anyways, “C’mon. Pizza time.”

“Mmm, and maybe some fresh air too I am suffocating”

Yeah, this room may be suffocating, but for many other reasons.

[nessinborderland]

V-E-N-U-S (03)

Pairing: Rafe x plus size!Reader

Genre: smut, dark-ish fic

Word Count: 6 ,2k

Warnings ⚠️ Mildly Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, more like Enemies to Enemies That Fuck tbh, Rafe Cameron Being an Asshole, mentions of bullying, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Mentions of death of a parent, Drinking, Drug Use, Rafe needs therapy asap, fatphobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: The nickname he had given you in 8th grade was supposed to be ironic. In Rafe’s defense, he used to be a pretty stupid and cruel fourteen-year-old, as most kids that age are. So yeah, nicknaming the fat and nerdy chick Venus – like the goddess of sex and beauty – had been pretty hilarious in young Rafe's opinion.

What he would've never guessed was how much that name would fit you now as a grown woman.

Notes: Here is part 3! Enjoy 💖

AO3 | Masterlist | Part 1

You felt like you could finally breathe when you set foot inside your house, the familiar scent of beef strogonoff making your stomach grumble as you realized you were starving. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you rarely got hungry while working, doing a shift without much more than a granola bar and yogurt in your stomach.

But you were home now, and your body knew it, muscles relaxing and mouth salivating at the prospect of finally sitting down and having a nice meal. Maybe then you would forget about your shitty day – in particular your last conversation with Rafe. That had really soured your mood, a tension in your shoulders and neck that was starting to give you headaches.

Locking the door behind you, you dropped your backpack on a chair and sat on the floor with a tired exhale, taking off your shoes before fully laying down on the wooden surface, dust and dog fur in your hair be damned. Your whole body needed a break, your feet in particular; they always hurt like a bitch after a long shift of standing up and walking around.

The noise of loud indie rock came somewhere from the back of the house, and you could hear kid music and cartoons coming from the living room, just to your right. A tip-tapping sound from the hallway made you look up, and a smile stretched your lips as you were approached by the only family member to always greet you at the front door.

“Hey old man, how was your day?” you cooed as you sat up to pet K-Nine behind the ears, just how he liked it.

The old German Shepard mix wagged his tail from side to side as he excitedly tip-tapped his nails on the floor, trying to welcome you with a lick to the face that you promptly dodged with a chuckle. Your dad had let you pick K-Nine on your 10th birthday, and, in a way, this dog was like a part of your father that was still with you. It hurt watching him get older and start to prefer naps instead of long walks outside.

After a quick cuddle and a pet to his graying muzzle, you stood up and walked into the living room together, where your younger brother sat on the couch with his full attention on the TV.

“Hello, Kev,” you greeted when you passed by the couch, being completely ignored even when you ruffled his hair as you walked towards the open kitchen. “Bluey is that good huh?...” you muttered under your breath before smiling at your mother. “Hey, Mom, smells good!”

“Hey, sweets, you got home just in time,” greeted your mother, sending you a tired smile as she set the table. You hurried to help her, knowing that – no matter how tired you were – your mother would be ten times worse. “How was work today?”

“Work was okay, got some good tips,” you said as you took out the orange juice from the fridge and set it on the table. “How was your day?”

“Exhausting,” She said as she sat at the table with a tired sigh, a smile still on her lips. “But cleaning rich people’s houses does have its perks – Mrs. Lockwood gave me some good clothes her son doesn’t use anymore, so that’s one less thing I have to worry about – I swear that your brothers are growing like weeds.”

“That’s nice of her,” you said with a forced smile; your mom was always thankful for the things her employers at Figure 8 gave her, didn’t matter if they were second-hand or not – but you still remembered how kids used to bully you over it. You just hoped your brothers didn’t go through the same. “Have you been taking your new medication? Doctor Marsh said you weren’t supposed to feel this tired after a few weeks of taking it, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s working,” she muttered with a shake of her head, eyes down on the napkin she was folding. “They help a bit with the pain, but I still feel so drained…”

“Maybe you should do some more exams?” you asked as you grabbed the plates and started serving the still piping hot food, the smell making your stomach grumble again. “We can go early tomorrow if you want, I only start work at five.”

“And mess even more with your college savings?” she asked in what you knew was a rhetorical tone. “I’m not doing that.” Then she turned to your younger brother, still watching his cartoons like they were the only thing in the room. “Kev, honey, go call your brother for dinner, please – Kevin, now.” Then she turned to you again. “Fibromyalgia won’t kill me, I can manage. Let’s just focus on getting you into college for now, I’m not having you stuck on this island waiting tables for the rest of your life.”

You gave her a resigned nod, setting the plates on the table before sitting down at your usual place in front of her, noticing the bags under her eyes and the silver in her hair – she had aged so much since being diagnosed two years ago. You didn’t like the fact that your mother refused to get all the help she needed; yes, there was no cure for her condition, but there were treatments to alleviate the symptoms, which she just refused to do if it involved touching your savings.

At times, it frustrated you more than just a little. You would rather your mother enjoyed her life comfortably with no pain than go to college; it was not like your major of choice was going anywhere, anyway.

The arrival of your brothers stopped you from pressing on the matter again, and dinner went by as it always went, with silly conversations that made you laugh and your worries disappear, allowing you to enjoy these little moments when everything was fine.

No work, no stress, no drama.

It was now almost ten-thirty in the evening, and your mother and Kevin were already long asleep while you relaxed on the couch with K-Nine sprawled belly up between you and David. Mom had only recently allowed him to watch scary movies, and the kid was obsessed, to say the least. So, it had become tradition, for the past few months, to watch a horror movie every Friday and Saturday night after dinner, which you were happy to oblige.

David was very noticeably going through puberty right now, and sometimes the only way to get him out of his room was to convince him to either go to the movies or watch something on the TV. Netflix was a luxury you were willing to pay for if it allowed you these special moments with him.

“Do you believe in demons?” David murmured as you watched the final shot of Annabelle in a glass enclosure fade to black before the credits rolled.

“Sure do,” you snorted as you stretched your stiff muscles with a yawn. “See them all the time at my job.”

The boy tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing.

“Uh, do you mean Kooks?”

“Kooks. Demons. They’re pretty much the same thing,” you replied with a specific person in mind. “Why? You scared?”

“I’m thirteen, of course I’m not scared,” he said with an eye roll that could match your own, helping you fold the blanket you had used before adding with a small shrug, “Just wondering…”

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry about demons, so you’re good.”

“Hmm…” He looked lost in thought as he hesitantly asked, “And what about ghosts? Do you think they’re real?”

“Not really.” Something sounded off, you could see it in his faraway gaze, the way he chewed on his bottom lip, shoulders sagged. “Why do you ask, Davie?”

He was quiet for a moment, and then he uttered, his bottom lip trembling, “I- I can’t remember Dad’s voice anymore… I think I’m forgetting Dad.”

“Aw, Davie.”

You pulled him against you, arms going around him as you held him in a tight embrace, kissing the top of his head when he hugged you back just as tight, his shoulders lightly shaking as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. He was growing up so fast; another year and he would be taller than you.

You said nothing as you let him cry, hugging him while rubbing his back, trying to ignore the lump in your throat. Even though you could cry, you wouldn’t do it now; he had seen you cry so much in the past, seen you sob and lose yourself as you grieved, not old enough to quite process everything that had happened, but old enough to hold you like you were holding him now.

It was your turn to support him through this.

He had been eight years old when your father died, just a little boy – which, in a way, made it so much worse for him. You had been fifteen and had almost died yourself, too deep in your own despair at the time to notice anyone else’s misery. But now you felt his pain as if it was your own. You were sure that if there were no pictures of your father around the house, his face would also start to blur from your memories.

“I think Mom might have some videos of Dad in a hard drive somewhere,” you said after some time in silence. “Why don’t we look for them tomorrow and watch them together?”

You heard him sniffle as he nodded, and you broke the embrace before gently guiding him out of the living room and saying goodnight to each other.

You watched as your brother opened the door of the room he shared with Kevin before getting inside, leaving it slightly ajar as he did every night, the shine of the night light (he still had nightmares sometimes) giving you some visual aid as you walked the dark hallway towards your own bedroom.

A sudden knock at the front door made you jump in place.

“Shh, boy, it’s okay,” you hushed your dog as he let out a bark from the living room, rushing after you as you hurried to check the peephole. Your brows furrowed, lips pursing as you noticed who was on the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door to face none other than your cousin.

“Hey,” he said in a hushed tone before you could utter a word, looking at you with his hands in his pockets and a nervous expression on his face. “I know it’s late, but can we talk?”

You hesitated before giving him a nod and stepping outside, leaving the door unlocked behind you as you walked towards the front steps. You had a good guess as to why he was at your doorstep at this hour, and your shoulders tensed at the prospect of having this specific discussion right now.

“Fine,” you muttered as you moved to sit on the front step. “What do you wanna talk about?”

John B followed your lead and sat beside you, absently petting K-Nine behind the ears as the old dog lay down on the porch with a huff.

“JJ told me about you and Rafe.”

He was going straight to the subject. Good. The sooner you finished this, the sooner you could go to bed and pretend it never happened.

“What about me and Rafe?”

John B stopped petting the dog, fingers fidgeting as he started picking the old scraps of paint from the wooden step beneath him.

“Please don’t lie to me, V. Not about this.” You didn’t think you had ever heard John B say anything in such a serious tone, jaw clenched and mouth set in a straight line as his gaze locked on yours, eyes shining in the moonlight with something akin to concern. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know you would never have something with him even if he was the last man on earth, but I heard the rumors, so what the hell happened between you two?”

Your brows furrowed, his tone not lost to you as you tried to understand exactly the meaning behind his words.

“Wait, what- what are you talking about?” you asked after a moment of only staring at him, unsure of what to say. “What the hell did JJ tell you?”

“Last Saturday, at that Kook party, Rafe did something to you.” You looked at him in total confusion as he took your hands in his, his grip a little tighter than you would find comfortable. “He forced you, didn’t he? I saw the bruises, I saw the marks but I just thought…” he shook his head, tone turning frantic as you let out a nervous chuckle, at a complete loss for words as you realized what he was implying. He couldn’t be serious. “Did he drug you? Whatever he did, you have to tell me, tell the police. We can get him arrested. If- If you don’t want to do that maybe we can try to- to, I don’t know, but we can make him pay somehow.”

This was madness. This whole situation was ridiculous. Absolute insanity.

“John B, no, please stop–”

“No, no, no, you don’t have to be scared of him–”

“Johnathan, stop!” you snapped, tears stinging your eyes as you finally managed to pull your hands from his grip. “Whatever JJ told you, it’s not true. Rafe didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do, so stop whatever this is!”

He stared at you, eyes wide and mouth agape as understanding finally settled.

“What?”

“Rafe didn’t hurt me.”

His eyes flashed with anger, and an intrusive thought crossed your mind; it was almost like he preferred you had been assaulted.

“You actually willingly slept with him?”

The disgust was as clear in his voice as it was in his face, and you couldn’t stop yourself from recoiling in a sudden burst of shame. You were quick to push that emotion aside; you had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Even if I did, whatever my deal is with Rafe is between me and him. Not you and not JJ, so you can just stop getting in my business like I’m your responsibility. I’ve been dealing with Cameron for years now, he’s not your problem.”

“That’s the thing though, he is my problem!” he shouted, and you looked back at your house, afraid your family would be alerted by the ruckus. This was not a subject they needed to get involved in. “He’s always picking fights with us and treats Sarah like shit! Have you seen what he and Topper did to Pope the other day? He’s not a good guy and you know that so why the hell would you willingly spread your legs for him?”

“Hey, watch it!” your tone raised to match his own, index finger pointed at his chest as you pinned him down in a glare. K-Nine barked, sensing the rise in emotions. “You don’t get to talk to me like that!”

“What, am I lying?” his tone quieted, but the expression of anger on his face didn’t falter, hand raising to roughly push your own away. “Didn’t you go from hating him one minute to letting him fuck you the next? Like a–”

You felt the heat in your palm before you could even register what you had done. Tears stung in your eyes as you stared down at John B, who was cradling his cheek and looking at you with a mixture of shock, anger, and sadness in his hazel eyes.

“Get. Out. Of my house,” you commanded in between shaking breaths.

You stared down at each other for what felt like hours, neither of your saying a thing. You forced yourself to stop your lower lip from trembling, hiding your shaking hands behind your back as you finally broke eye contact, sure that you would erupt into tears if you stared at the disappointment in his eyes for one more second.

“Just leave,” you whispered as you made your way to the front door, not caring anymore if he left or not.

“He’ll hurt you.”

You halted, hand on the doorknob, glancing at him over his shoulder. Waiting.

“He’ll hurt you,” John B repeated, firmly this time, avoiding your eyes. Then he added, his tone so soft you barely understood the words “And when he does, you can count on me. Until then…”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he was already walking away before you could utter a single sound.

«»«»«»«»«»

You rolled in bed for the hundredth time that night, your cousin’s words repeating themselves in your mind over and over and over, like a broken record that never stopped.

Didn’t you go from hating him one minute to letting him fuck you the next?

You had… hadn’t you? Against your better judgment, against your own principles, you had let Rafe touch you and kiss you in ways you never even thought he would want to. Rafe Cameron was an awful person, and that wasn’t a matter of opinion. He was entitled, cruel, temperamental, and prone to violence. You knew that. He had terrorized you for years and made your life a living hell; laughed at you, hurt you, made you cry more times than you could count, and still…that hadn’t stopped you from riding him and moaning for him as if your life depended on it, had it?

And now here you were, unable to sleep, with a tightness in your chest and a churning stomach that was starting to make you nauseous. You were exhausted from all the muffled crying you had done as soon as you got to your bedroom, your pillow stained with tears.

John B’s words hurt, making you feel even worse than you already felt. Part of you hated him a little, insulted and beyond upset by everything he had said. He had no right to act like that. Still, the other side of you cried in shame, wondering if he was right and if you really were being the stupid and undeniably wrong person in all of this mess.

I slapped him, for God’s sake!

That alone was enough reason to at least text him an apology, but you quickly stopped yourself from doing it. You were still too furious, wounds too fresh.

Your thoughts started spiraling out of control, and that tightness in your chest grew worse.

What if your mom found out?

What if your boss found out?

What if you lost your job and your family because of it?

What if you and John B’s relationship never recovered?

What if this stupid fucking mistake stopped you from going to college and making a better life for yourself and your family so you would be forced to work as a waitress for the rest of your life until you died alone on this island with no family and friends, only the police to discover your cat-eaten corpse?

What if, what if, what if?

You buried your face in your pillow with a grunt of frustration, wishing you could go back in time and murder Rafe Cameron in his sleep, just for good measure. Then none of this would’ve happened, and you could continue living your life without this particular storm hanging over your head.

Groaning at how stuffy your room felt, you kicked your sheets off of you before getting out of bed and walking straight to the chair in the corner of your room. Grabbing the pair of shorts and the hoodie laying on it, you hurriedly got dressed before making your way out of the house, phone and keys safely stored in your hoodie’s pocket.

You hesitated as you walked down the stairs of your front porch, unsure of where to go.

It was at times like this that you wished you had more friends; Nina had been abroad for two years (It would be four in the morning in Portugal, so it was not like you could call her now) and you doubted that JJ, Kie, Pope, or Sarah would want to hear anything you had to say, after what happened. A couple of other people came to mind, but you never contacted them unless sex was involved, and that was not what you wanted right now.

Sex was what got me into this mess in the first place.

The sounds of waves in the distance crashing against the shoreline caught your attention. You listened for a moment, taking a deep breath of the salty breeze, mind going blank for a blessed moment. Living this close to the ocean could be a curse some days, unwanted memories rushing to your mind if you let them take over; right now, however, you would like to think of it as a blessing.

You were strolling towards the Boneyard before you could give it much thought, hands stuffed in your pockets and hoodie over your head as the chilly coastline wind made you shiver despite the warm island weather.

Your ears perked as the sound of loud music and voices alerted you to a party nearby, right on the other side of the dunes. You could smell burning wood the closer you got, and it didn’t take you long to catch the sight of a bonfire, people laughing and dancing and drinking without a care in the world.

Exactly what you needed.

You approached the gathering with your eyes on the crackling fire, enjoying the way the dancing flames cast a glow over the sand, making it look the color of melted caramel under the moonlit sky. The sand under your naked feet was cool to the touch, and the seawater was thankfully far enough away for you to be able to relax.

Most people around you were familiar in one way or another, a fair mix of Kooks, Pogues, and Tourons that just wanted to enjoy their Friday night as much as you did. You walked through the party crowd, being mostly ignored besides the occasional wave or nod of recognition that you made sure to retribute.

Fortunately, you saw no unwanted faces that would make you instantly turn around and leave.

That made you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding; no one seemed to be talking about you or looking at you weirdly, and there was no one to ruin your night more than John B already had. Perfect.

Coming here was a good decision, you thought as you approached the kegs of beer, smiling as you recognized one of the guys handing out drinks.

“Hey, V.” Eli, a tall young man with short curly hair smiled at you as he handed you a full cup of beer before you even had to ask. “Haven’t seen you in a while. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged as you took the cup from his hand, sipping the bitter drink, “just working and binge-watching shows on my days off. All very thrilling. You?”

“Same,” he chuckled, warm brown eyes looking almost golden in the light of the fire. “Just helping out at the cafe and surfing when I can. By the way, when are you passing by? My Mama keeps telling me to bring you over again, says she has some new books you might like.”

“Aw, she misses me?”

“C’mon, V, you know we all do,” he said, sending you a wink that made the corners of your lips twitch and a familiar heat take over your cheeks, the suggestion in his tone not being lost on you.

You really liked Eli, with his pretty smile and easy-going nature.

He had graduated two years before you, and you had gotten closer when you started spending your free time at his family’s cafe, staying whole afternoons reading or writing in their quaint little book corner. It didn’t take you long to develop a friendship, and before you knew it you were having your first kiss and experiencing your first time in his bed, in the apartment right above his shop. He had been kind and patient, and you really couldn’t have imagined a better way to lose your virginity.

But – even though you were aware that he liked you – you had never let your relationship evolve into something more than friends with benefits. Why ruin something that worked just fine?

“Maybe I’ll pass by on my next day off,” you said, and his eyes glinted. “Are you working on Monday?”

“I’m not, but I’ll be waiting there for you. Wanna go out and have lunch too? This new place just opened and–”

Your smile faltered, and he was quick to notice.

“No, no, I mean, just as friends,” Eli quickly clarified with an awkward chuckle. “I know you don’t want to change what we have and that’s fine by me. But, you know… we can hang out if you want and have a good time. We’re chill, right?”

Sometimes you wondered what was stopping you from getting into a relationship with a guy that was handsome, kind, shared so many of your interests, and knew how to please you in the best way. The problem wasn’t him, you were well aware of that. The problem was you and your fear of commitment.

Fuck that. You deserved something good in your life. And, right now, you really needed it.

“We are,” you answered, and you noticed relief softening his brow. “You know what, yeah, let’s plan something fun for Monday. How about–”

A heavy hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you stopped mid-sentence to look behind you, heart almost jolting out of your chest as you faced the last person you wanted to see at that moment.

“Rafe,” you muttered, glaring at his blue eyes before looking down at his hand, still on your shoulder. “Take your hand off me.”

“You’re in the way,” he simply said while dropping his hand to his side, nodding past you at the kegs of beer.

You said nothing, moving to stand next to Eli as Rafe passed by you and refilled his own cup. With a strange look at you and a glare sent in your friend’s direction, the blond left, and you followed him with your eyes as he walked away to the other side of the crowd, where he stood with his little gang of friends.

Of course he would be here, you thought as your hand reflexively squeezed the plastic cup in your hand. Luck was rarely on your side.

Maybe coming to this party hadn’t been a good idea, after all.

“That was weird,” uttered Eli, also looking in Rafe’s direction. “He could’ve gotten more beer right there.” He nodded in the direction of the other kegs, where no one stood in the way.

“Yeah, he just wanted to piss me off.”

“You’re still at each other’s throats then?”

“Yup.”

He hummed in response, and a weird moment passed where neither of you said a thing. You, for once, were too preoccupied with weighing the pros and cons of staying at a party with Rafe Cameron in your vicinity. The smart move right now would be to leave; you had no idea what would happen if both of you stayed. Then Eli spoke again, words coming out deliberately and slowly like he was thinking them carefully.

“You know that he’s not a good guy, right?”

You scoffed.

“You’re telling me that, of all people?”

“Just making sure…”

You let out a sigh, hand raising to brush over your face with a tired grunt.

“So, you heard about it too, huh?” you asked, hoping the irritation in your voice scared Eli enough so he wouldn’t ask too many questions.

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’, eyes down as he kicked a tiny hill of sand. “Don’t know if it’s true and I don’t understand you if it is, but it’s none of my business so… just be careful, okay? He hangs around the wrong crowd sometimes, and, well,” he shrugged, “you know how he is.”

You glanced at Eli, taking in the way he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking his words through. Whatever he was implying, was said out of concern for your well-being, nothing more.

“Okay…” you started, unsure of what else to say. “Thanks for letting me know, but there’s no reason to worry. I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” He nodded once, and a pretty smile graced his lips again as he looked at you. “Now, about Monday…”

«»«»«»«»«»

You were more than just a little tipsy.

You stumbled over your own feet as you walked past the dunes, giggling to yourself as you remembered a joke you had said early in the evening, already so plastered that you had struggled to get the words out without laughing. You hadn’t really meant to get as drunk as you were, but before you knew it you were six cups past sobriety, dancing and singing at the top of your lungs with Eli and his friend group.

You felt amazing in your intoxicated high, barely remembering what had soured your mood in the first place. Eli had helped you forget, with his easy conversation and sense of humor, and his friends had welcomed you into their group without unwanted questions or weird looks sent your way.

Was exactly what you had been needing; and a long time overdue if you were being honest with yourself.

Not even Rafe had been able to smother your euphoria, despite the very noticeable glares sent your way throughout the night. After some time, you had even forgotten he was there, completely focused on enjoying the party to its fullest.

And damn you if you hadn’t succeeded.

It was now somewhere past two in the morning, and the exhaustion of your workday had gotten to you despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and your high spirits. So, you had said goodbye to Eli – with the promise to meet on Monday – and were currently making your way out of the Boneyard. A tiny voice in your brain warned you about the massive hangover that you would without a doubt suffer in the morning, but you lazily brushed it off; now was not the time to think about tomorrow.

Now all you wanted to do was lay down.

Lay down…

You fell to the sand with the grace of a newborn foal, giggling as you laid face up, eyes wandering lazily on the clear sky. It was spotted with shiny stars, one constellation more beautiful than another, and your eyes watered; looking at the night sky had always made you feel emotional.

I’ll sleep here tonight, you thought as you curled in on yourself, face towards the stars, fingers tapping on the sand out of rhythm with the music still playing from the party just on the other side of the dunes.

“‘Cause everytime we touch, I get this feeling,” you drunkenly sang off-key as Cascada’s ‘Everytime We Touch’ played loudly. “And every time we kiss I swear I could fly.” You could still hear people sing and laugh from your spot in the middle of the sandbanks, and it almost made you want to go back there and stay until the sun rose.

But you really had to go to bed; or sleep right there, one of the two. Your head spun as you tried to sit up, so you let yourself lay down again with a huff.

That’s when you noticed someone approaching.

“You’re so fucking drunk.”

“Oh, pardon me, your Royal Highness,” you mocked with a snort, turning towards the voice to see Rafe Cameron standing just a few feet from you, hands in his pockets, “but this peasant doesn’t give a shit about what you think.” You couldn’t see his face well in the darkness – only the moon as a light source – but he was most likely looking down at you with a frown, as per usual. “Leave me alone, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Here?”

“I’m homeless, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Venus.”

“Rafe,” you laughed as you tried to imitate his baritone. “Oh, Venus, you’re so fucking drunk. Oh Venus, let me fuck you again.”

“You’re fucking annoying, that’s what you are.”

You didn’t even notice Rafe approaching you, letting out a yelp of surprise as you felt him pull you up before stumbling against his chest as dizziness took over you. You made a whiny noise as he started to half-push you, half-drag you away, a strong arm around your waist while the other grabbed you by the elbow.

“No, I don’t wanna leave!” you cried out as you tried to turn away from him and back to your spot on the sand.

“I’m not leaving you to sleep on the fucking beach, you moron.”

Now you were close enough to see the annoyed glare that he pinned you under, giggling at his pinched expression as you slapped his chest in a weak attempt to have him release you.

“Ugh, you’re so boring,” you whined, letting yourself fall in his arms when you realized he was not letting you go. “Okay okay, I know, let’s tell each other secrets!” You clapped your palms against his chest, pulling his shirt when he groaned. “C’mon I’ll go first: I hate you. Like really hate you. But-” you lowered your tone to a conspiratorial whisper, “having sex with you was really good – I still hate you, though.”

“Venus–”

“Shh, it’s a secret,” you giggled, putting a finger against his lips. “Now you.”

“I–”

“You have really pretty eyes, you know that?” you mumbled as you looked into his blue eyes, forgetting the game you had been one-sided playing. “It’s so unfair…”

Rafe let out a long sigh.

“Anything more you want to tell me?” he asked, hands steadying by your shoulders as you swayed in place.

“Hmm… nope.”

“Good, then let’s get you home.”

“Wait!” you exclaimed, pulling at his hand as you let yourself fall to the sand again, laughing as he fell on his knees beside you. “Let’s watch the stars.”

He sighed again.

“I’m so close to just leaving you here.”

“Good, then go, goodbye,” you said as you frowned at him, slapping his hand away when he tried to lift you again.

You heard him sigh a third time, followed by a sound of resignation before you watched him sit down beside you. With a grunt, you used his arm to pull yourself into a sitting position, leaning against his shoulder for support as you turned your neck to look up.

“Aren’t the stars so pretty?” you whispered, shaking his arm when a moment passed without an answer.

“Yeah, guess they are.”

You kept staring up, feeling your lids drop the more you looked at the mess of gold, red, and silver dots that painted the dark blue sky. It was all so beautiful. You felt… content, even with Rafe beside you. He was still an asshole and you still couldn’t stand him, but he wasn’t being himself right now, for some weird reason your intoxicated brain couldn’t even wonder about.

Rafe cleared his throat beside you, snapping you out of your stupor.

“Can we go now?”

“Wait…” you murmured, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath of the clean ocean breeze. “Okay, we can go now.”

“Finally.”

He pulled you up and you yelped as you tripped over your own feet, allowing him to hold you straight against his chest. You looked up at his face, and a sudden thought made you bite your bottom lip.

No, don’t do it, warned a voice in the back of your mind that you promptly ignored.

Kissing Rafe felt… nice. Better than nice. You had thought so too when you had been naked under him just a week prior, moaning against his soft lips as he fucked you in a way you had never been fucked before.

Now felt no different.

You moaned into the kiss, intertwining your arms behind his neck as you pulled him closer, fingers tangling in his soft blond locks. One of his arms went around your waist, pulling you flat against his body as a hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to deepen the kiss. You did so gladly, enjoying the feel of his tongue against yours, shivering as his teeth swiftly pulled at your bottom lip.

You let yourself enjoy it, the possible outcome of it all pushed to the back of your mind. All you wanted right now was to kiss him, consequences be damned. You would deal with those when you were sober.

Rafe was the one breaking the kiss, and you almost cried as he lightly pushed you away. You wanted more than just one kiss, at this point, an insisting heat making you squeeze your thighs together.

“C’mon, you little tease,” he said, chuckling as you whined and tried to chase after his mouth. “Let’s get you home.”

«»«»«»«»«»

Part 4 ->

[onlyonetifosi]

Just us against the world

-> Word Count: 1288

-> Warnings: so much cheesy fluff,a bit insecure reader/mick and sorry for the so many temporal jums

->Author note: I would appreciate if you send some ideas or requests for me to write. English is not my first language so sorry for mistakes

Big Thanks to @vickyhateslife who has been alongside me writing this <3

Mick and I have been very good friends for years, we met when we were 10 in a karting competition back in Germany.

We went up at the same time through the junior categories, only that i stayed one year more in F4 than him, and that's why he went upto F1 one year before me.

2022 was my year, I was chosen to be the new Williams driver longside Alex Albon due to suspicious retiremment of Latifi.

Anyways, today is my day, pre-season tests, I was so nervous but I think that wasn't important as my level of excitement. The tests are over, I am back home. I feel great, the energy was just amazing. Everybody here was very friendly and positive, and so were the people of Williams. They welcomed me with open arms, they told me that I am one of them now which feels great. But there's a lot of work ahead to be honest, feels like we're still learning a lot about how the car works and I'm working in guetting familiar with the car.

Now that tests are done, I'm going back to the factory in UK for a lot of sim and training ahead of 2nd round of tests in Bahrein, only 1 week before the firts race there. Can't wait to be back in the car.

Today was media day ahead of the first race of the season, the Bahrein GP and I was going to do some kind of sel presentation for the F1 youtube channel.

I was talking with Mick for the first time in a long time , don't get me wrong i talked to him in Barcelona and last week tests but not as long as we wanted.

Mick has been my crush since always but i don't think he ever felt the same way about me. He is still my best friend and than we have been for over 10 years now. I was lucky, as a child I was born in Switzerland and my dad and I were neighbours with the Schumacher's. My dad, Michael's Schumacher best friends since they were kids,and he moved with him because my dad was the first performance coach of a driver in F1. Moving back to Mick's and mine relationship, it has been very good since ever, he has been very supportive of my career so far but i know he wants to spend more time with me because he os only now that i can really stay for long periods at a time at home.

I realize that although i love sims, going back to real life is weird, as i've said before because even though last season was just a test season it was real enough for me t ofeel like a driver but this one is real now, so the stakes are higher.

In this moment I'm in the Williams hospitality looking trough the windows when I see Mick and his Kevin, talking and Mick seems a bit flustered, I wonder what are they talking about.

Mick's pov

-Mate, you act a little bit patetic, every time you both are talking you guys get all red, it's very cheesy, so please ask her out for gods sake.

-Kev, she doesn't feel the same I'm sure, we have been besties since we were born and I've had girlfriens and she had got boyfiends and we never said each othe anything.

-It's because you both are blind- A voice behind me says and I turn around to see Seb coming to us.

-Not you too Seb- i say embarrased to my confident here at the track.

-Mick, I've know you both nearly since you were born and you've always been crushing each other.

-Whatever Seb, look I'm sorry but I don't think she feels the same way, ok? She's my best mate andI think she only sees me like that.

-Whatever mate you say- Kev says and he turns around and walks away leaving me and Seb alone.

Today we only ahave FP1 and FP2 so it's quite a relax day, while I'm heading to the Williams hospitality, I find Mick going to Haas.

-We are doing the track walk together, don't we? - I ask him as we head the both hospitality, one in front of each other.

-yeah like we always did-

-oks, see you then-I say while fist bumping him.

-bye! -he says too, entering his motorhome.

-Mick, you've been crushing on that girl for years now. When are you going to say something to her?- Sebastian Vettel teased him as they sat in the middle between Haas and Williams motorhomes. Mick Schumacher just shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to admit that he was indeed interested in the beautiful German driver. -I don't know, Seb. It's just...complicated.- He sighed, running a hand through his hair. -What's so complicated about it? You both like each other, I can tell.- Kevin Magnussen chimed in. -Just man up and tell her how you feel!- -Yeah, Mick. Just tell her.- Alex Albon said, coming up to stand beside them. -She's definitely into you too, I can tell.- Mick just shook his head, not sure if he was ready to take that step just yet. Maybe one day, but not right now.

-Hey mate- I say while sitting beside him at the table.

-hey girl- he says while eating his spaghetti.

-ok so...I don't know how to say this- I start and his eyes are on me now.

- you're worrying me, just say whatever it is- Alex says scared by my behaviour.

-I think I like someone- I say after a deep breath.

-who?! -Alex asks immediately.

-It's Mick- and immediatly his jaw drops.

-I knew it! Lando and George owns me and Lily a dinner, yeah!- He says jumping.

-You betted who I liked or what- i say a little bit annoyed.

-Sorry bestie but I love to have a lovely dinner with my girl for free.-He says proudly.

-You're an idiot you know that?-I tell him annoyed while going to my room.

Today was quali day and it was at 6 pm and it was only 11 am because I had data to check and meetings, I was walking to the Haas motorhome from the padock because Mick and I are going to do our private track walk as we always did.

There was a little bit of wind so my hair came to my face, when I was going to remove my hair on my place I feel Mick's hand putting a lock of hair behind my ear, brushing his hand in the process, his action shock me because he had never made skin contact with me.

-Sorry, I just wanted to help you.-He says quickly while I give him a confused smile.

-It's okay, thanks.-I reply.

It's a little bit uncomfortable because neither of us knows what to say but we quickly break the tension by smiling, as I thought we were going to continue with our track walk, but he stopped me.

- I want to talk to you about something.-He said looking at me a little bit nervous.

-Then tell me-I say not expecting what was about to come.

-I've had a crush on you since we were in F3 and i couldn't resist more without telling you- You've been always my crush aswell for a long time.

We finish our walk smiling at each other and grabbing hands, stealing touches of each other and stealing kisses. Only we in our love bubble forgetting about our stressing job.

Just when we were to part ways, he grabs my wrist and he pulls me in a passionate kiss that neither of us want to finish, just us against the world.

I hope you like this! send me whatever you want to my asks.

I would love to know something about you!!

And would you like a mention list? like for me to mention you in my fics <3 <3

Love for you <3 <3

[mcgnussen]

debrief with kevin magnussen - episode 3 out of 3 (by viaplay) part 2

the japanese grand prix 

the visibility was even worse than what we saw from the camera on top of the car, kevin could not see past his front wheels. in the studio they are going through the start where we also see albon drive directly into k-mag and kevin just said “and here i’m hit by albon who also can’t see anything.” basically the visibility was so low that they were almost all driving completely blind with 250 km/h. and as kev points out, he also cannot just go slow or break in weird places because then the cars behind him will slam into him.  

kevin would have crashed directly into sainz if norris had not gotten wheelspin at the corner before which allowed k-mag to pass him. if that had not happened, norris and k-mag would have gone side by side and kevin would have smashed into sainz. in the onboard, even from the view of the camera on top of the car, you literally cannot see the ferrari despite it being red through the spray. it is just invisible and it’s so so scary to think about how bad that crash could have been for both of them.    

the spray has gotten significantly worse due to the new cars having more downforce. kev doesn’t know how it can be fixed, but something definitely needs to be done because it is too dangerous. and he does not want to lose the wet races because those are often the most fun. but yeah, he confirmed that the reason they don’t really use the full wets/extreme wets is because of the amount of spray they cause. 

kev vs seb duel 

in the studio, they analysed the duel kev and seb had at the end of cota and while kevin is still a little annoyed at losing it, he did praise vettel multiple times. especially at the corner where kevin took the ideal racing line and forced seb to go around him, he said that he could barely go full speed through it (partly because his tyres were disintegrating but it’s also just hard), but seb somehow managed to go full speed on the dirty part of the track to pass k-mag. and then kevin tried to trick seb to take back his position, but vettel read him and blocked him, which kevin also found impressive but annoying. kevin does point out that seb did get a track limits warning during the duel, hahaha, but in the end then he said that seb just drove brilliantly and he has nothing but respect for that. 

mick schumacher and nico hulkenberg 

kevin is looking forward to working with nico who he says is a really good driver, he is a safe choice for haas and is a very consistent driver. he also has a lot of self-esteem on track. he is really looking forward to the competition with nico. he said that was what worked so well with him and grosjean. everyone, not just the drivers, on the different sides of the garage knew they had to work at their absolute top level to beat the other side. and that is what a formula 1 team needs.  

when asked why kevin thinks haas chose hulkenberg over schumacher, kev said this: “there is nothing wrong with mick's talent, he is definitely competent in the car. but he could not get the talent to come out often enough. he could get really stressed. and then he made some costly mistakes and had some weekends where he was too far behind. there is nothing wrong with his top level, maybe his bottom level was just too low sometimes. but he is still pretty inexperienced. last year he was the team’s darling and the unquestioned leader because the other guy was a mess. and then here i come out of nowhere and everyone is so happy to see me. that was an unfortunate and tough situation for him. and then mick also just have a surname that puts such a burden on him. the pressure is not only from others but himself too. imagine carrying the legacy of michael schumacher. i think it's just too much pressure.”

the 2023 season

formula 1 is all about out-developing the others because no one is standing still, so while the goal for haas does have to be to take another step forward, they are also aware that it is not so simple, but they have better tools for taking that step forward next season than ever before. but kevin is excited because haas will get new pitstop equipment (the one they used last season was from 2016...), they get a bigger strategy team and more people working on set-up. kevin hear some things through the grapevine and he says that there are real indications that the car is looking good. they are matching more with ferrari. and kevin reveals that haas also sacrificed some money in 2022 to use it on the development of the 2023 car instead, so he is hopeful that the car will be even better.  

 the biggest problem with the 2022 car was when they were running low downforce. as the only team on the grid haas did not have a dedicated low downforce rear wing and that was a big disadvantage.    

kevin was asked about how hard it will be with 24 races (which we now know will only be 23), but he does not want to complain for himself because the mechanics have it much harder than the drivers. it will mostly be bad for them and he does think the race calendar is too packed with races because the mechanics cannot get home between races anymore. he is worried that the mechanics are going to leave the sport. the drivers have the luxury of flying home between most races and can sit in business class, so he does not like to complain.  

he is looking forward to all the classic races in 2023 like monaco, suzuka and silverstone. but he is also looking forward to las vegas. not really because of the track which he admits look a little boring, but he thinks it will be a really big event. in his opinion, the u.s. is good at creating a big show and now they have just found a new sport to put a lot of effort into.  

kevin has no problem with the new fans of f1. he is aware that a significant amount of fans, especially american fans, have started watching formula 1 because of ‘drive to survive’ and he thinks it’s fine. the most important thing for him is that the sport is growing. even if some fans see him more as reality star (or as he says “a bearded kim kardashian”), kevin is just happy that they are watching the races. (mai note: essentially k-mag says “stop gatekeeping f1, it is for everyone″).

[spiffghosthuntingcorporation]

[The following recording was taken from head-mounted cameras, worn by trained professional ghost hunters. Untrained individuals should not attempt to attempt any of the activities shown in this video.]

Testing, testing, 1-2-3?

You don't need to do that, you know. I didn't mess with the sound settings at all.

I was just checking, Bri.

Thanks, I guess.

Check it out, Daithi, infinite Kevins.

God, as if one wasn't annoying enough as it is.

Kevin, stop making a fool of yourself in front of my monitor, and listen up. This is a big job, and we need to be professional so we never have to do this again. The sooner we finish the recording, the sooner we can end the recording, got it?

Wow, great pep talk, coach. I feel so much more enthused about doing this.

I thought Seán was the leader? How come Brian's the one doing the shitty motivational speeches?

Lads, come on. Let's just do what Brian said; get in, get some footage, get the ghost, get out.

I'll be using footage from all three of your headcams, so don't try to goof off. Got it?

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's get this over with.

Try not to die, fuckers.

The office building's cold and uninviting exterior matched the interior perfectly; with only the dim emergency lights illuminating the otherwise dark and empty hallways. Seán glanced at the two next to him, who already had their respective EMF Reader and thermometer out. Taking out his own EMF Reader, he nodded towards the stairway ahead of them. "Daithi, you sweep this floor, I'll take the second... Kev, do you mind taking the third?" His teammate gave him a thumbs-up, and a smile to match. "I've got it. Radio if you all find anything, yeah?" Daithi held up his radio in response, before clipping it back to his belt and opening a door to the side. "Hopefully this gets done quick."

Kevin flicked on another light as he wandered into yet another meeting room, not bothering to turn the one out behind him. Luckily, Brian was there to scold him, almost immediately. "You all need to remember not to blow the breaker, it's in a bit of an inconvenient location. Over." His voice crackled over the radio, and Kevin was glad that his friend couldn't see his eye-roll as he strode back and flipped off the light. There wasn't anything in this room, either, and he made a point to over-exaggerate turning the light switch off before finding himself face-to-face with a large [UNDER CONSTRUCTION] sign hanging on another door. "Hey, Seán," Kevin radioed, testing the doorknob and peering into the darkness as the door opened. "Did they ever actually finish rebuilding this place, or no?"

It took a few seconds for Seán to respond, and as he did Kevin swept his flashlight over the room. "No, they only got the first couple floors actually done. Construction stopped when the ghost started messing with the computers and things." His flashlight beam passed over the noticeably darker walls, before resting on a desk with a surprisingly unbroken computer on top. Kevin slowly crept closer to it, and as he approached the computer blinked to life on an empty Word document. A quick glance at his EMF Reader, blinking at a steady 2, and the cold temperature that seemed to fall over the room almost immediately, was more than enough proof for him to lift the radio to his mouth once again.

"We've got our ghost up here, lads. In the unfinished section."

Seán finished setting up the tripod that held the video camera, and peered through it as Daithi placed an empty book in plain view of it. He nodded, and stepped back from the camera. "That's a pretty good view. So, what's the plan now?" With a slight smirk creeping onto his face, Daithi took out his thermometer, slowly panning it over the room. It felt fucking freezing in here (good thing their suits were made to hold warmth), and he could see his breath in small puffs, but it was still good to check. "What, you don't have a plan, Seán?" He taunted, sweeping the thermometer over the desks until he stopped short at the computer that had turned on. "Temps just dipped down to freezing. We've got our first piece of evidence, gentlemen!" Kevin grinned, before grabbing his Spirit Box. "That's great. Now, you two go get some salt for the corridors, maybe look for some dirty water or ghost orbs, and leave me to do my job." The other two nodded and moved to leave, but Seán hesitated by the door for a second. "Be careful, okay Kevin?" Resisting the urge to tease him about his familiar worrying, he waved off Seán's concerns confidently. "Pffft, 'careful' is my middle name. Go on now, I'll be fine." Seemingly satisfied, Seán left, leaving Kevin alone in the room with a ghost.

He wasn't quiet for long, moving back over to the desk with the opened computer. "So, you're at the computer, huh?" The Word document still blinked up at him, and Kevin hesitated for a second before moving his hands down to the keyboard. The keys themselves were ice cold, and he had to try hard to try not to flinch as he typed out a message. "Let's try talking this way first, before we try the Spirit Box. Okay?"

Hello? Are you here?|

Kevin waited impatiently, but a minute went by without a response. He turned away to check if there was any writing in the book - nothing, unfortunately - but when he looked back, his breath caught in his throat. There was a message written under his own.

Yes, I am. Are you here to kill me?|

He gasped, turning back to the video camera even though Brian could see him through the headset. "Did you see that?!" Kevin said excitedly to the camera, and his response came through the radio. "Yes, I did. Keep talking to it, this will make great footage. I'm keeping Daithi and Seán here with me so we don't disturb you, and we're looking for ghost orbs. Over." Kevin gave the camera a thumbs-up, before going back to the computer.

Don't worry, we're not here to kill you. I promise.

What's your name?|

It wasn't exactly nice to lie to the ghost, but Kevin figured that saying "well yes, that's my job" would probably piss it off. And that wasn't a good idea. Luckily, the ghost seemed to believe him, responding quicker this time.

Aren't you ghost hunters normally told the ghost's name? I guess a lot of people did die here, so it makes sense that you wouldn’t be able to pinpoint just one name.

My name was Daniel, Daniel Condren. What’s your name?|

Kevin looked down at the two messages, more than a little confused. The ghost knew about how ghost hunting worked? It (he?) was right; they did normally receive the ghost’s name. But there was no way that he should’ve been able to know that, even if he had been hunted before. Well, the easiest way to figure out the answer was to ask, right?

I’m Kevin. How did you know we get the ghost’s name?|

The ghost - Daniel - seemed to hesitate this time, with the message taking longer to appear. And when it did, the words seemed to be shaky, and the occasional backspace needed to be pressed. Clearly, this was a touchy subject, and it showed in the message.

I… I don’t know, exactly. It’s just something that I do know. Like how I know that you’re going to see my ghost orbs through that video camera, and how I’m going to be able to talk through the Spirit Box. What ghost type does that make me, again?|

Once again looking at the video camera for a quick confirmation that the other lads were seeing this, Kevin opened up his journal and flicked through the pages, before eventually settling on a page that matched the evidences they had so far… “The Onryo.” He read out loud, not wanting to type out the entire thing. Hey, Daniel could hear him, there wasn’t really any point to typing in response. “Evidence is Spirit Box, Ghost Orbs, and Freezing Temperatures. The Onryo is known as the…” Feck, that didn’t look good. “The ‘Wrathful Spirit’. This ghost has been known to fear any form of fire, and will do anything to be far from it.” The two were silent for a moment (well - in Daniel’s case, silent meaning he didn’t type anything), until a breathy sound caught Kevin's ears. Was the ghost... Laughing?

Well, I guarantee I'm not a wrathful spirit. More like a lonely one. And that whole 'fearing any kind of fire' is definitely right. Considering the fact that I literally died in a fire, I'm not exactly on the biggest fan of it.|

Okay, no, he definitely heard something there. The words that were typed were being echoed back to him, as if Daniel was quietly murmuring them to himself before actually typing them. He already knew that they could communicate through the Spirit Box and electronics, but actually being able to talk directly with each other? That was something they had never seen before. Kevin opened his mouth to ask Daniel more questions, maybe ask him to show himself, but he was distracted by another message appearing on the screen. One that made him freeze on the spot.

So, now that you know about me, and my ghost type for sure, are you going to kill me? That's your job, isn't it?|

[forelsketparadise]

#AusGP Race Highlights

Before race Charles’s radio “yeah so we confirm everything is okay on your side. original start target to red target to red.”

Lewis’s radio “so we won’t hold off other car” “yeah copy”

Charles has a decent start to stay P1. Lewis P3 Pierre P9 and Yuki P11 all gain 2 places. Esteban is still P8.

Charles’s radio “and we in mode race mode race”

Mick also gains 2 places and George gains 1 place.

Carlos has a horrible start loosing 5 places. Lando loses 2 places. Perez and Zhou 1 places each.

Double Yellow flag in sector 3 as Carlos is out of the race lap 2.

Carlos went off hard into the grass after his attempt to get Mick and then slides over the turmac to the other side of the track beaching the car into the gravel.

Virtual safety car is out.

Carlos’s radio “I am in the gravel. Tell them to push me if they can”

Carlos’s radio “engine off engine off”

Full safety car

Lance pits from hard to medium during safety car lap 3. He pits again next lap to go from medium to hard.

Safety car in this lap 6.

Max’s radio “so just a reminder once Leclerc does let the safety car pull ahead we got the new rules engagement so makes tough. it means to the side not to the front of his rear wing”

Pierre is trying to get some temperature into his tyres.

Lewis and Perez are battling for P3 lap 9.

Lando’s radio “Lando we are thinking plan A. target plus 5 at least” “confirm okay”

Checo gets Lewis for P3.

Seb loses positions as he goes into the gravel at turn 11.

Seb’s radio “sorry for that, so difficult to judge the car under braking”

Max's radio “mate my left front is completely grained” “okay copy”

Mick loses to Kevin and Zhou going on and off track.

Charles’s radio “is that better for us if i take less on the curb...” “yes that’s better for us thank you”

Pierre’s radio “yup, i’m in a good place”

Pierre and Alonso are fighting for P9 lap 13.

Yuki and Valtteri are fighting for P11 lap 14.

Nicky pits lap 13 and then Mick pits lap 14.

Charles’s radio “and we are going plan A plus 5″

Valtteri gets Yuki at turn 2 for P11. Yuki is then threaten by Kevin for P12.

Kevin goes off into the grass in his attempt to get Yuki.

Kevin’s radio “all okay Kev?” “yeah, my bad sorry”

Esteban comes out P17 from P8 after pitting lap 17.

Max’s radio “box box”

Lewis’ radio “rear still quite hot”

Lap 18 max pits and comes out P7.

Yuki goes P17 from P11 after his pit stop. lap 18.

Pierre tried fighting Max but gets overtaken by Alonso he is back to P9.

Lewis back at Perez tail at lap 20

Daniel’s radio “Lando will pit this lap. Verstappen is 4 and a half seconds behind on new tyres so we want max pace as soon as Lando is out of your way.” “okay”

Lewis and George P2 P3 while Perez and Lando pits lap 20.

Daniel, Zhou and Pierre pits lap 21. Pierre goes from P7 to P15.

Lap 22 Daniel, Lance and Alex fight for P10 in a three way battle.

Charles pit lap 22 he stays P1.

Mercedes responds by pitting Lewis. He goes from P2 to P5.

Yellow flag in sector 1 & 2. as seb is out of the race. He crashed into the wall. Safety car has been deployed.

George pits and comes out P3. lap 23. Lance and Latifi pits too.

Everyone on hard right now lap 25.

Checo overtook Lewis for P5 just before safety car came out.

Lewis’s radio “so George benefited from that safety car he managed to box under it” “so that means i have lost the position” “affirm” “I am just unlucky with the safety car” “yeah exactly that Lewis, it’s just bad luck”

Safety car ends at lap 26

Mick’s radio ‘Holy cow, that was close” “yeah understood”

Mick almost went into the back of Yuki who slowed down in response to Pierre slowing down who had to slow down because of the car in front of him.

Pierre’s radio “I have damage on the front wing”

Charles, Max, George and Fernando fights at the restart as well as Kevin and Lewis.

Safety car infringement for Yuki, Pierre and Mick to be investigated after the race.

Charles’s radio “And Verstappen doing more tyre saving at 10 and 12″

Checo gets Alonso for P4. Alonso then gets taken over by Lewis for P5.

Kevin’s radio “come on Kev these are very good laps”

Mick gets Yuki for P15 lap 32

Yuki’s radio “strat 3 strat 3″

Lewis’ radio “let me know where i am done” “ yeah copy. we do a lap in clean air. we will let you know so all cars ahead have stopped and i think everyone will be going to the end”

Lando and Kevin fight for P7.

Kevin now is under attack from both McLaren. Lando gets him lap 34.

Perez and George for P3 lap 35.

"Are these guys pulling away from me?" asks Hamilton, who is told that those ahead may "overcook"

George’s radio “George, important, management is more important than position. if you’re hurting the tyres to keep Perez behind. you can let him pass. “that’s not what I want to hear”

George let's Checo pass to keep his tyre. Lewis is getting updates on him.

Lance has been noted for weaving on straight.

Esteban’s radio “Alright mate we need to lift and coast into turn 1 and 3. one second both places. engine temps” “Yeaj well i cannot because i will get overtaken” “okay mate see we need free air unfortunately its not optional so either lift or coast for free air”

Max is out of the race. He has park his car at turn 2. Engine might be about to catch fire.

Max’s radio “okay Max stop the car please”

Virtual safety car is out.

Max’s radio “I smell some weird fluid. everything is ******* itself”

Alonso and Kevin pit under safety car for mediums. lap 39

Green flag lap 40.

Pierre is back in points with P10 lap 40.

Charles’s radio “At the moment you have the fastest lap so Perez time 2.1″

Alex hasn't pitted lap 41. He is currently P7.

Bottas’s radio “Stroll made me go off the track. as per he overtook” “understood understood keep pushing”

Lances forces Bottas off the track to keep him behind himself.

Pierre now tries a move on Lance.

Perez’s radio “what was the problem with Max?” “don’t worry about Max, not relevant to our car”

Turn 3 incident between Valtteri and Lance for forcing another driver of the track is noted. no further action necessary.

5 second penalty for lance on weaving on straight. he also gets 1 penalty point.

Pierre still fighting Lance on lap 44.

Lance’s radio “caution Lance on weaving while defending”

Pierre again tries a move on lance lap 46.

Yuki loses position to Kevin for P15.

Pierre is now defending from Valtteri.

Micks locks up and gets overtaken by Alonso.

Lance, Pierre and Valtteri fighting for P9 lap 47.

Charles’s radio “Let’s go for the fastest lap at the end”

Alonso’s radio “who is in front of Valtteri?” “ah Gasly” “i mean i don’t get it why don’t he overtake it”

Stroll’s radio “everything push now. everything you got”

Pierre finally gets Lance for P9 Valtteri too gets Lance for P10.

Both Perez and Mick goes off the track.

Charles’s radio “Can we go for the fastest lap before the traffic please?” “no negative, we have the fastest lap and we don’t think anything can beat it” “okay but okay”

Lewis’s radio “you guys put me in a really difficult position”

Alonso pits again at lap 53.

Pierre locks up on grass loses P9 to Valtteri. He has been complaining of the tyres

Alex has pitted yet to lap 56

Mick ovetakes Kevin.

Perez’s radio “are you still awake?” “still going, jet lag kicking in”

Alex pits on the very last lap to finish P10.

After his radio message Charles kept on getting the fastest lap one after the another.

Charles win the race. He also lead very single lap. got the fastest lap and the driver of the day to complete a grand slam.

Perez is P2 and George is P3. George’s first podium for mercedes.

P4 Lewis P5 Lando P6 Daniel P7 Esteban P8 Valtteri P9 Pierre P10 Alex are the other point scorer. Yuki P15.

George’s engineer on Charles after being asked by George how far they were behind Charles “ Leclerc was on another league today, a league of his own”

Charles’s radio “the car was incredible today. well done guys”

[dreamingmanip]

“MADNESS LOVE” PART 2

*GIF NOT MINE*

You can find part 1 here.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 2,026

A/N: Hi guys! Like I said before, this is part 2 of 3 for this imagine. I loved this fic so much I could’t stop writing. I hope you liked it, like always if you like this, please like it and reblog it. This would be pin on my page so you can find it without problems.

The tears kept rolling down your face all the way home, you didn't bother to wipe them away when you met your neighbor in the lobby, asking you if you were okay. You weren't, you were holding yourself to not break down in the middle of the hallway, making a scene. 

Your keys jingled while you opened the front door, your hands trembling; you shut the door behind you. There was some light coming from outside the window but mostly it was dark,and that's how you felt, as if somebody took the light inside you leaving you blind. You leaned you back on the door, your body sliding down to the cold floor, sitting there looking at nothing. A cell phone started ringing in the distance but you didn't want to move. Your eyes fluttered trying to focus in the dark, searching in your jacket for it, the screen on the phone  glowed  and illuminated your face, Jay's name showed up, and the killing pain came back to your chest just looking at his name, so you decided to turn it off. 

God knows how long you were there until you decided to stand up and go to your room to take a shower, put on some pajamas and grabbed the bottle of wine that was in the back of your fridge taking it to your room. Jay's words echoing in your head, over and over again.

Did he commit to his job, to his Unit, that he was fine letting you go? His words were etched in your mind. Of course you understood the full situation, he was right; you were the new still, not a detective, but that wasn't what was hurting you, it was realizing how he believed you both could never say anything because your jobs were more important. 

Somehow you fell asleep before finishing the bottle of wine. The clock on your nightstand began to chime, it seemed that you had barely fallen asleep. Your room was still dark thanks to the curtains but some rays of sun could creep in. You stretched out your hand to turn off the alarm, and at the same time, your cell phone began to ring, you probably turned it on again in the middle of the night, you were a cop and sometimes you did stuff automatically; you raised it a little to be able to answer.

"Hello?"

“Hey Y/N, please don’t tell me you were still in bed.”

Your voice was a little croaky when you spoke.

“Uhm, no I wasn’t. My throat feels weird this morning, so… yeah.”

Kim’s voice was joyful even on the phone, you turned to see the clock, in a bright green color it said “8:15 AM”. You sat up immediately, moving the soft sheets wrapped on your body away while Kim was still talking.

“...So I called Kevin and we decided to bring you some donuts and your favorite coffee before the event. We’re 10 minutes away.”

“Fuck”.

You murmured getting in the bathroom. Kim looked at Kevin a little concerned.

“Sorry Kim, I spilled some water on the table but, uhm, yeah. See you in 10”.

Ending the call, you got in the shower, didn’t even wait for the warm water so you screamed a little feeling the coldness on your skin. The fastest shower you ever took in your life, leaving you with only five minutes to get dressed up and do your hair. 

You were in the final touches of your makeup when a few small knocks on the front door warned you of the arrival of Burgess and Atwater. Taking one last look at the mirror to put a smile on your face before one of them would notice something, you felt anxious and devastated and trying to hide it from officers and detectives required a lot of self control.

Both of your friends smiled when you opened the door, Kim was holding a little box with cartoon drawings of donuts on the top while Kevin was offering you a cup of your favorite coffee. All of you wearing uniforms.

“Thanks guys, I barely ate something this morning”.

You took the coffee from Kevin’s hand, taking a little sip before walking out of your apartment, closing the door behind you. The three of you were talking about random stuff all the way to the car and to the downtown, well, Kim was the one talking with Kevin, you were mentally preparing yourself to see Jay, it wasn’t working at all.

“So Y/N, Jay called me last night, which was a little weird if I have to admit, he asked me about you”.

Kim was looking at you through the view rear mirror, you blinked a couple of times without saying anything. Why did Jay call Kim to ask her for you? You had no idea and that's exactly what you said.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was at home last night. He’s weird sometimes you know that.”

“I know, right? He asked me if you were with me last night but we were at Molly’s. Adam, Hailey, Kevin and I, we miss you by the way.”

Kevin looked at you, knowing something went wrong between you and Jay.

“We invited Halstead to celebrate but he said he was busy filling some forms for Trudy after shift.”.

“Well, I don’t know him so well. I think he prefers to be alone. Look, the press is here too”.

You passed some news cars, reporters were setting their cameras to get a better view. Jay hated this, he wasn’t comfortable seeing his face on the paper just for doing his job and also Voight taught them that when his unit was formed, and everyone did almost the same.

You got out of the car after Kevin parked near the place. Hailey was the first who noticed you, she raised her hand and started to wave it. You smiled, Kim was doing the same and started walking towards her, Kevin patted your shoulder making you go slowly.

“What happened last night? Jay called me too, he said he was worried about you”.

“Well, he doesn't have to do that anymore. We’re done”. 

“Wait, what?”

Kevin stopped for a moment, that news caught him by surprise.

“Y/N, are you sure of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll support any decision you make, all the way, but I know your feelings. Working together could get harder.”

You nodded your head, you knew it. It was going to get hard in every possible way, seeing him every morning not able to steal a kiss from each other at the coffee room or staying up watching a movie with your head on his chest; suddenly a bunch of memories came back to your mind, you shook your head slowly, you gave him a side smile.

“Kev, I got this. I’m gonna be fine. C’mon”.

You bumped his arm with yours while you reached out to Hailey and Kim, for a moment Hailey looked at you and nodded, Jay talked to her too. You nodded back to her.

A few moments later, Voight and Trudy joined you. In the place there were a small, but considerable, number of people but no matter how much you searched with your eyes, you could not find Jay. The coordinators asked you to take your seats, for obvious reasons the Intelligence Unit was in the front row, it wasn't until that moment that you could see Jay in his uniform, you had always liked the way he looked in it. However, he didn't seem very happy, he seemed calm but you noticed the pressure on his jaw, his straight shoulders and his gaze in front of him, but he wasn't looking at you.

He was sitting next to some superiors in the platform in front of you. The Superintendent stepped up to the microphone to start his speech, some photographers started to point their cameras to the people and then to the "big hero". 

The ceremony wasn't too long, you all met in the back while reporters were asking now questions to some people. Voight was smiling, which was rare, while Jay was walking towards the group. 

Adam was the first to talk, and like always, started to make some jokes. 

"There he is, the super cop Jay Halstead. The man of the year!"

He padded Jay's shoulder, he had a shy smile on his lips. Uncomfortable by all the attention he was receiving. 

"Thanks Ruzek, I think the cartel in Mexico didn't hear you". 

Everybody laughed, including you. Jay looked at you for a moment, actually felt more like 2 seconds. 

"Alright, let's go back to the district and back to work. We can celebrate later at Molly's". 

Voight spoke and all dismissed to the cars, you went with Kevin again, this time Kim decided to ride with Ruzek, the awkward sensation was still there so she didn't want it to push it further and make you uncomfortable. Once inside the car, you kept quiet all the way, Kevin knew you were lying but he also knew how you dealt with a broken heart. 

You went to the locker room and just arrived at the district, it was too damn warm to keep it all day, also it was used just for events like this. When you got to the door you spotted Hailey, she was putting her badge on her belt. You kept your head down, trying to avoid her, you greet her with a quiet voice. 

"Uhm Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" 

"Yeah, sure."

Hailey closed the door and crossed her arms on her chest, her  cautious blue eyes looking back at you. 

"Look, when Jay told me he was dating you, I told him it was stupid. Not worth it if your careers could be over just for a romance that could last just a few months". 

You knew Hailey, she was a bad ass woman and probably didn't say it to her so often but you admire her. She was serious, she didn't like to play games when it comes to her friends. 

"I'm sorry for telling you this, but that was before seeing how good you are together as partners and as a couple. I was scared for both of you because I love you and I care about you. I'm not on Jay's side or your side, left me out that but Y/N, it's not easy to Jay open his heart like he did with you. He doesn't want to lose you and I guess the only way he can control that feeling it's not letting anybody know about it. Forgive me if I was a little obtrusive". 

You didn't notice there were a few tears on your cheek, cleared your throat to be available to speak but you failed at finding the right words, it took you a few seconds to speak. 

"It's okay Hailey, but what about me? What about my feelings? I know Jay is right, we could lose our jobs but, why make me feel like his dirty secret?"

Hailey took a few steps closer, her blue eyes now looking sad.

"Of course your feelings are valid. Don't get me wrong, I have been in that position before and it's not easy. All I'm saying is, you shouldn't leave things unspoken, this stuff gets heavy later."

She hugged you tight, rubbing your back. You held her too, she knew what she was talking about, you never asked before 'cause she was very private but you believed her at anything she said. 

After changing your clothes, you came back to the bullpen, nobody was talking, you sat at your chair and looked around; it seemed like everybody was tense for no reason. Voight was in his office and the unit was on some paperwork. You felt someone looking at you, directly. There was no need to look up, you knew Jay was looking at you from time to time. You haven’t talked to each other yet, you needed to, but that wasn’t the right place.

Tagged some beautiful people ✨:

@itsdesiree86 @mrspeacem1nusone  @anotherfan07 @thestarrynightslover

[unbridgeabledistances]

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

--

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

**

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”