#...feel that bad >:( i hate being responsible. i should be at work getting outdoor stuff done that i couldn't do yesterday bc it was...

[fantabulisticity]

Welp, I have a sore throat & nose and congestion. All very mild, but def not normal, and a lot of my illnesses start out very mild. So I got some shit done at work and ditched. Had to ride the bus home bc my car is at the mechanic. (Of course.) But at least I'll get to catch up on sleep, and I'll avoid giving it to anyone else before I know if it's a bad one or not.

[lionessinarms]

The Month In Between chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Two weeks has past and Firetown's repairs are moving quickly. Wade and Ember have been working really hard at their jobs but haven't been seeing each other as much as they would like. They try to at least grab lunch or dinner together when then can but Ember's new welding job leaves her very exhausted. Bernie has even caught her falling asleep rebuilding some shelves at the Shop. There's been no time for dates. 

Wade has been going above and beyond on his inspector job. He is only responsible for pointing out the violations that need to be fixed. He instead takes time in his reporting. Giving the knowledge he's been learning from his mom, he writes individualize action plans to get the building up to code, and on budget. It's extra long hours on his laptop at night but to him it's well worth it. Wade hates giving building owners the bad news and not being able to offer a solution. Which is why he takes in the extra work to help better the community he feels connected to. Gale takes notice of this and has him in her office.

"So Ripple what did you want to meet with me about?" Gale asks.

"Well, I wanted to request a transfer for next quarter to the city Ember's internship is at. That is if I'm doing a good enough job." Wade says without confidence.

Gale then tells Wade, "Kid, I'll be real with you for a second. I only hired you as a favor to your mother and you were this close to be fired. Finding that leak was your last chance."

Wade looks nervous and gulps.

Gale continues, "But then all of a sudden it's like you found your spark. I never seen any inspector be so thorough and have these amazing actions plans for the city repairs. You're on fire kid! You really got a passion for this."

Wade questioning himself says, "Well it's easy when you connect with the people you are trying to help? I just want to help them through it other wise I feel like all I do is give bad news all day."

Gale says, "Well it's working. Your the reason the repairs are going fast in Firetown. Keep up that attention to detail. In the mean time I'll look for your replacement and you are going to train them to be exactly as you are now. I'd hate to loose ya but I get that that Fireball of yours is cute." Gale does a wink.

Wade with a smile gets up and shakes Gale hand. "Thank you Ms. Cumulus. I won't let you down!"

Wade gets back to work in Firetown but then heads to an outdoor mall on his lunch break. He had to white lie to Ember about having the work through lunch but this secret isn't harmful. Wade stands outside a jewelry store. He takes a confident deep breath as he steps in. Wade looks over at a Water couple around his age being helped by a salesman. They are picking out matching wedding rings and they look very happy together. A Water salesman steps up to help Wade.

Salesman, "Hello sir is there anything I can help you find?"

Wade gets excited and rambles, "Yeah hi, I'm shopping around for an engagement ring but my relationship is still new but amazing. I really just need a better idea for what to budget for the next few months before we move in together."

Salesman, "Great. You came to the right place. Let me show you some styles and do you happen to know her ring size?"

"Actually no." Wade holds his hand to look at it.

"No problem I got a chart you could look at." The Salesman holds up sizing chart.

Wade points over the a very small size but then again Embers digits are very thin. "She's around this size."

"Oh, that's pretty small for Water." Says the Salesman.

Wade was taken back by surprise. He never really thought about how strangers view his relationship with an Element not of his own because frankly he doesn't care. Now it's time to test if he is in the right place.

Wade then goes, "Oh yeah I forgot to mention she's Firish can you should me your selection of fireproof rings please?" Then Wade gives the salesman a look of I dare you to say something Elementalist.

The Salesman looks surprised for a second then gets back to his job, "Of course they are right over here, My mistake I should of ask you first."

Wade is relieved and laughs it off, "Haha, not a problem."

After some time, Wade steps out of the jewelry store. He looks up and does a dreamy sigh but then a young woman's voice breaks his good mood.

"Wade Ripple? Is that you?" Asks a very attractive Water girl his age.

Wade has a look of horror on his face but quickly changes it to not be suspicious. He then fake smiles and says, "River. Hi, crazy seeing you again." Wade doesn't have a mean bone in his body as awkward as this, is he's a nice guy.

River runs up and hugs Wade. Wade clearly not wanting to hug back gives her a small pat on the back. 

"Wow it's been what almost a decade? You've really grown up." River then notices his name tag and flirtatiously goes, "And a city inspector now?"

Wade takes a few steps back as soon as River lets go of him. Wade looks like he's partially melting, his hair slopped down, he's sweating, and runs his hand on the back of his neck. "Yeah.."

Lucky for Wade. The Salesman interrupts, holding a piece of paper. "Sir you forgot to grab the estimate for your engagement ring."

Wade turns to the Salesman completely forgetting River is there. "Oh thank you." Wade looks down at the paper and smiles. It's like his watery waves on his head have come back to life and he stands proud.

River is staring at him in shock then goes coyly, "Wow Wade sounds serious. Does she know about me?"

Wade doesn't make eye contact with her as he folds up the paper and puts it in his bag. "Actually yeah she knows and it's very serious." He makes eye contact with River when he says serious.

River chuckles at Wade, "Well it's good to see you again Wade. Tell your mom I said hi." And with that she structs away.

Wade immediately turns the opposite direction and says to himself, "Pfft, yeah my Mom never liked you." When he is far enough away he pulls out the estimate. Wade takes a breathe in, does a dreamy sigh out feeling confident. "I got a lot of saving up to do."

Nearing the end of day at the job site, a worker in a suit passes out paychecks in envelops and hands Ember hers. Ember almost forgets she is getting pay for this work, "Oh thank you." She opens it and is shocked by the amount.

Next scene is Vinny with the check in his face and just laughs at Ember's surprise. "Ha, yep that is what an apprentice welder makes plus you've been making killer OT on the weekends."

Ember pulls the check down and stares at it for a second, "Dang!" She then paces and rambles, "This? This is so much! I mean my glass internship coming up is paid too but this welding job isn't just taking care of my travel costs." Then is dawns on her. "It will cover all my living expenses while I'm there."

Vinny goes with his arms held up, "Well what an amazing opportunity you have and the experience you're gaining from welding is going to help you prefect your glass making. Especially if it tempered."

Ember gets a bit honest with her boss, "Well it's exhausting work though not gonna lie."

Vinny isn't insulted by it and puts his hands down. "I know that waterfall hasn't been easy. I'm lucky I've been tolerating it as well as I have. I have a team working on converting some fire proof suits to water proof. Water guy actually came up with the idea."

"That's great and about time." Ember then takes a moment and ask Vinny, "Hey can I ask you something personal?"

"Sure kid." Vinny genuinely not fazed and is actually expected what she is about to ask him.

Ember is a bit nervous and she holds her arms to her sides close. Worried her question might be insulting but she goes for it anyway. Rambles a bit too. "Well it's about your parents, I'm in a mixed Element relationship and me and my parents had no idea that that was even possible." Ember nervously flared up a bit with her hands up, "Not that we're prejudice towards other Elements being together we just simply didn't know. Wade and I just kind of happened." Ember smiles at thinking of Wade.

Vinny give a warm smile and laughs, "Yeah you and Wade remind me a lot of my folks. My mother is Firish and dad is rock hard stubborn. I guess that's why the fell hard for each other."

Ember laughs but let's Vinny continue.

Vinny gets a little serious, "I learned very quickly we were not like most families but we all stuck together. Me and my five other siblings."

"Five wow." Ember thinking that's a lot of kids.

Vinny laughs then continues, "Ha ha yeah but we all love and support each other. That has been the biggest lesson growing up as a mixed Element is how to love yourself and each other. Love is alway worth it."

Ember smiles and goes, "Yeah I know. Thank you for telling me."

Back at the shop now. Ember is helping her father finish stocking shelves for the reopening tomorrow. Flarrietta, Flarry, Cinder, and Clod are working too. As they are working Ember has just told Bernie about her first pay check.

"Whoa! That's a lot of money! Maybe I should of become a welder?" 

Flarrietta chimes in, "Are you kidding Bernie? You were made to create this shop."

Flarry says, "It's the gem to our Firetown."

Ember agrees, "Yeah Àshfá."

Cinder goes up to her husband, "You really got a strong heart for this and I wouldn't of had it any other way. Besides doing any repair work always brought out your temper. You hate it and you know it."

Bernie puts his arm around his wife, "Ahh you're right. Serving the community did bring me such happiness. Speaking of happy how are things with you and Wade Ember?"

Ember leans back on a self and has a dreamy look on her face. "Oh Àshfá, he's wonderful stopping by the job site when he can for us to have lunch together. But we haven't gone on a real date in a while because we are both so busy with work."

Flarrietta chimes in again, in support of Ember. "I keep hearing stories about how he has been going door to door in Firetown teaching everyone how to keep water out. Even helping create plains for the repairs of each building. He's the nicest Water guy ever, very polite, and respectful too."

Clod adds, "He gives me water when I'm thirsty since the pipes here don't have water in them anymore."

Ember smiles warmly as her father goes, "Okay okay, I'm warming up to the water guy."

Ember sincerely tells her father, "Thank you Àshfá. You have no idea what that means to me."

Bernie's expression gets a little serious as they walk over to the back, "Hmm, I just wish you guys happiness but I know there will be judgements from others. I wish I knew more on how to protect you from that."

Ember tells her father, "Well, I started talking to Vinny about that, he's one of six kids."

Bernie surprise, "Six?"

Ember laughs then looks at the clock. "Oh, I better get going to Element City."

"Oh?"

Ember forgot to tell her parents, "Yeah Wade invited me over to watch a big Windbreakers game."

Bernie confused, "Wind what? Game?" 

"Glad the Wetro is up and running again but the motorbike would of been a shorter commute." Ember turns and gives her dad a hug. "I'll be back home later on tonight."

Author's Note: WADE IS GETTING A RING!!!! XD

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[moonfromearth]

College Sim Dump!!

Will I ever be on time for a follower milestone? Not likely. 😅

Anyway, as a celebration for 150 followers here are eight cc free sims all enrolled in university! Each sim has been enrolled in a degree program, had two skills set to level three, signed up for organizations, as well as gotten scholarships!

Should you use them feel free to do as you want with them but I've provided some information on each one below the cut 😉😉

And finally a huge thank you to everyone who's followed me! I've had such a great time interacting with the simblr community and it means so much any time someone interacts with a post of mine so... Thank you!! 🤩🤩🤩

~ download (google drive) ~

A little about the sims...

Cassidy Whitmore (she/her) - Music Lover, Outgoing, Mean - Unapologetic, loud, and the mastermind behind The Whitmores, her and her brother's duo. A bit much to handle sometimes but a brilliant songwriter without much of a care for actually doing her homework, after all why write essays and answer multiple choice questions about songwriting when you can actually be writing songs?

Quinn Whitmore (he/him) - Music Lover, Paranoid, Good - Cassidy's younger brother. He looks up to his sister and has followed her lead thus far in life. His passion, though, lies more in the instrumental side of making music, and he's responsible for mixing songs that he and Cassidy work on together under the name The Whitmores. Good natured and friendly but overly anxious and tends to overthink too much. Actually does his homework, unlike his sister.

Whitley Miller (she/her) - Geek, Bro, Slob - The ace of Britechester's ESports team, Whitley's entire life revolves around gaming, modding games, and, well, more games. She's already completed several small video games as well as dozens popular mods for various games. Though some could say she's a little.. Unorganized, but who has the time to clean their room anyway?

Kai Māhoe (he/him) - Adventurous, Active, Squeamish - Britechester's all star soccer player, Kai is an athlete through and through. Outside of soccer he also snowboards and rock climbs, having gained himself several sponsors while still being in college. He's hoping to study abroad for a year and go to Mt Komorebi in order to reach the summit of the famed mountain for which the area is named.

Zoe Cho (she/her) - Art Lover, High Maintenance, Vegetarian - An artist who holds her opinion in the highest regard. Dreams of becoming an art critic but only after having her work featured within every famed San Myshuno gallery's walls. I imagine she wears contacts but unfortunately that's not a thing in the game so... Her natural eye color is brown. Member of the Britechester Art Society.

Blake Nora (he/him) - Perfectionist, Bookworm, Loves the Outdoors - You might recognize Blake if you've seen my last sim dump. His cousin, Jennifer, and him are pretty much identical. Blake was created by accident while I was trying to figure out Jennifer's look and personality. Anyway, Blake's a devoted student but rather than go on daring adventures like his cousin he'd prefer a good book and a small garden. He's a member of The Debate Guild solely to put it on his resumed, as he hates confrontation and arguing... So basically everything about The Debate Guild.

Averie Stewart (she/her) - Dance Machine, Hot Headed, Noncommittal - A dancer and cheerleader pursuing a career in theater, hoping to one day travel the world performing, never settling anywhere. Loves to have fun and hang out with friends but don't get on her bad side. Fun fact: Her look was inspired a lot by K-pop group dance practice videos. Member of the Foxbury Spirit Squad.

Gus Richards (they/them) - Self-Absorbed, Genius, Glutton - A medium with psychic abilities and an ego that's waaay too big. They're going to revolutionize paranormal research (so they claim). Probably watched Ghostbusters one too many times as a kid. On Foxbury's robotics team.

[shushiyuii]

Atlantic Runaways (Part 1)

I’m feeling a bit unmotivated today and sicky, ill do as much as i can today so in case i can’t upload much take this fic i made a while ago.

Also future parts of this au will contain noms! So just be aware of that!

Warnings: Mistreatment (Take this warning seriously please)

Words: 1.8k

When Wilbur was a young Mer, he enjoyed swimming around in the open waters, living with his pod and learning new things. But that wasn’t easy nowadays living within a cramped tank, especially being forced to perform. He was captured several years ago now, he was a full adult now, being raised in what he could barely call his home.

So many people mistreated him here, not to mention the lack of food, he was almost always starving but over the years you get used to that sort of thing, all that matters really is if you do well during your performances you get more food, and he hates it here. He really hates these humans, they’re pitiful.

He hates the crowds and how they applause after doing a single flip, his trainer seems to agree on that. He always scowls whenever he hears those cheers, but it wasn’t like he’s on Wilbur’s good side, he was just as bad as the people who watched his suffering.

He was one of the ones who caused his suffering. Treating as if he were any less than him, paying no kindness or compassion, the lack of food, if he performed one-trick incorrectly, he would not get any dinner, he hated this place.

Back in the ocean, things were so much easier, so much more space, freedom, family and everything. Now he sat at the bottom of the tank, his cave barely fitting half of his body, his hunger craved food, sometimes he even thought of eating humans but if he wanted any chance of escape, it would probably be best not to do so.

He sighed; he couldn’t even see the stars anymore as he was moved to indoors, only going outside for outdoor performances. It just led to even less space, this place for Wilbur was hell, they didn’t even know he resembled a human, being sentient and able to speak.

Meanwhile, with TommyInnit, he was having the best moments of his life. He had recently finished a course on Marine biology and was now on his to becoming an intern for L’manburgs most famous water park!

He would be able to work with sea creatures! He could study them, communicate and understand them! He had applied for the position a while ago and well got accepted!

“Dear Tommy Danger Kraken Innit,

We are happy to announce that you are now a part of the team! Welcome to L’manburg Water Park! With your help, we’ll rescue all sorts of sea creatures, learn new things about them and even perform with them! We hope you’re as excited as we are!

Please come to the park on Monday morning, once you arrive at the receptionist desk, state your name and we’ll show you around the park and how everything works! We hope to see you soon! – Staff”.

Tommy was so excited he yelled at the top of his lungs! Jumping with joy! He would finally accomplish his dream! He could work with sea animals! He was so excited to tell Tubbo! He immediately ran over to his phone to call him.

Once the phone picked up there was groaning on the other side, he had woken up Tubbo. “Pft, Did I wake you, Big man?”. He groaned in response to that, “What do you want, Toms?”. “Well~,” he said dragging out the ‘L’, “I’ve got big news, Big man! I got accepted for the internship!”.

Tubbo woke up at the fact, gasping in excitement “Really man?! Oh, that’s great! I’m so happy for you, man!”.  Tubbo exclaimed. “When do you start?”. “Next Monday, actually! I’m really looking forward to it!”.

The next couple of days went by quickly, and then Tommy’s alarm went off, he rushed downstairs and ate his breakfast as fast as possible. His dad was surprised with how excited he was, insisting that they go immediately, pushing him out the door, it was the most excited he’s seen Tommy in ages, it made him happy.

He soon arrived at the park, he tried to walk calmly towards the reception, but he practically sprinted towards the reception. Many people were lined up to visit the park, but he walked right past them, gaining multiple stares. The busy receptionist looked towards Tommy, smiled sweetly and asked, “How may I help you?”.

“Hey I’m Tommy! I’m here for the internship”. “OH! Of course!”. The receptionist got up from their desk and went towards a draw and pulled out a couple of things, some papers and a wet suit. “Here’s your suit! If the size needs adjustments, please let us know! Just head behind here” They gestured to some doors,

“Just head straight away and at the second turn, the third door to the left will take you to the office where our boss will speak to you!”. He smiled and thanked the receptionist.

He took the receptionist’s directions and knocked on the office door, “Come in!” said a voice on the other side. He entered and there sat a man who looked like he meant business, with his dark brown hair and horns. “I’m Schlatt, nice to meet ya’ Kid!”. He smiled; something seemed a little off about this man, but he seemed friendly enough.

He waved back, “Have a seat”. There the two conversed about the details, safety, rules and regulations of the job. He also had to sign some papers to make the job official but now he was officially an intern! And according to this one paper, he was going to be trained under a person by the name of $*&^£, and he was going to be working with a Mer named Wilbur.

From the details of Wilbur, he was quite the large Mer, being just about over 30 ft in length. He also had a record of being docile when being worked with but wasn’t the friendliest Mer but wasn’t the most dangerous either as he hasn’t had a track record of incidents.

When asked about it, they had said “Oh, Wilbur needs some experience, and every other trainer is currently really busy with their Mers, the only ones available were those two”.

Despite that fact, he was still excited! He was going to be working with a Mer and that was a rare opportunity! He got changed into the suit and went out into the training area. There sat the trainer, he looked shady with his hair and face unkempt, covered in dirt and the strange smell. He looked very strange, with the fact that he was also smoking a cigar which probably wasn’t allowed on the job.

“Ah, you must be the newbie.”. It sounded grumpy, like his face with a scowl but it immediately changed to a cheery and upbeat attitude. “Nice to meet you Kiddo! Name’s $%^&£ and I’m pretty sure you know how to work with Mer right?”. He nodded; he had taken a Marine Biology course.

“Good, I’ll show you the Mer you’ll be working with”. They walked towards the pool, despite Wilbur’s size, it looked quite small to fit a Mer as big as Wilbur. The man then dipped his hand into the water and made a couple of splashing movements. Tommy looked towards the water, and something worked within it. A chirp could be heard in response as water splashed as Wilbur surfaced.

“Wilbur, this is the newbie I told you about, be nice”. To which he left them to be alone, and by that, he left the room entirely. He was trusting a teenager with a dangerous creature, the thought of being alone with a Mer was exciting but all the scarier with how dangerous Mer could be.

After a brief moment of silence, the Mer made eye contact with Tommy, he looked to be scowling in somewhat disgust, not only that but unhappy. “Hey there! I’m Tommy!” he tried his best to smile but the look on Wilbur’s face somewhat scared him. The Mer made a low warning growl with his fins flared and dove back into the water, not even wanting to bother with Tommy.

Tommy stood still for a second in fear but a couple of minutes later nothing besides the stillness of the water, nothing had happened. It appeared Wilbur just went back to his den. He tried calling back Wilbur, but nothing worked. And this went on for days, Wilbur only coming out for training for his upcoming performance or food.

Tommy didn’t like the look of things, his excitement for working there slowly leaving him, every day was just hoping Wilbur would communicate with him, didn’t Mers tend to bond with humans?

 Wilbur found this new human that was around, very annoying. Every day the human would try to touch or talk to him, and he wanted nothing to do with it, every time he was called, he’d just ignore it. Why should he have to communicate with something that wasn’t necessary? He’s never known this human in his life and all humans were all the same, selfish.

 It was finally performance day; he would finally get to perform with Wilbur maybe it was a chance he could bond with him! That wasn’t how the day went, it was amazing! But he just sat around keeping watch on things, he just had to feed Wilbur the occasional treat as %&*£! Did all the work. He knew he couldn’t be too mad, but he thought it would be more exciting than this.

After the show, $%*£! seemed quite pissed off with how Wilbur performed today, but Wilbur did amazing! Why was he yelling at him? Was it not up to standard? But that wasn’t quite the case, £$%!$ smelt like alcohol and his words were slurred and movements clumsily made. Wilbur seemed to notice this himself and was quite pissed off himself.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST DO YOUR STUPID JOB YOU STUPID FISH!?”. He then slapped Wilbur in the face, Wilbur raised a claw to where he was hit but didn’t seem too affected by it. Wilbur growled in response, his face in a predatory look but he did not attempt to attack the man.

Tommy was shocked, to say the least, not only that but pissed off. Tommy always had an urge to protect, even those he wasn’t close to, but he’d still protect people who needed it.

“Hey! Who are you to hit him like that?! He didn’t do shit to you!” He yelled. £$%!* looked to Tommy with a face of pure rage, Tommy had badly pissed him off.

Wilbur dove back into the water as the two argued, it was a back-and-forth heated argument. Which eventually lead to the man trying to punch Tommy. Tommy evaded it but then he the man, made a different move, he pushed Tommy into the water.

Water filled Tommy’s lungs, the water dragging him into its depths, he tried swimming back upward but every try he couldn’t swim back up and he continued to sink. As he kept trying, a ‘swoosh’ sound filled his ears and the water moved. In his vision was Wilbur coming towards him as he lost conciseness.

[patagucci34]

All Three ~ Nolan Patrick

A/N: this is based on the song All Three by Noah Cyrus. Also i have no idea what it’s like to have migraines and I obviously don’t know how it was for Nolan either, my depiction in this is just what I thought would fit with the story.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, verbal fights, playful arguing

Word count: 6.9k

Nolan Patrick…your best friend, your lover, your kryptonite.

It's the classic friends with benefits scenario…you met when he came to Philly and the rest is history. Your cousin, Meg had been dating Travis Sanheim and she always dragged you along to outings so you had become pretty familiar with the Flyers.

The night you met Nolan you knew you were in for it. You had walked into Scott's apartment trailing behind Meg and Travis and you immediately locked eyes with an unfamiliar face across the room. He immediately blushed and his mouth twitched up a bit in an attempt at a smile. You gave him a small smile back and then were interrupted by a few of the guys giving you hugs.

You were intrigued by the guy across the room, you figured he was a rookie, a super cute rookie, and you really wanted to meet him. It was a little while before you finally did, you wandered into the kitchen with your cousin to grab a drink and then of course you caught up in conversation. But finally, halfway through the night you were being introduced.

"Nolan, Travis, this is y/n, y/n, this Nolan and Travis." Ghosty introduced you to the two rookies. You shook their hands and greeted them sweetly. "It's nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too." The shorter of the two, Travis, greeted. "So how do you fit in with the mix here?"

"My cousin is dating Travis Sanheim and they drag me along to things like these."

"Oh, sweet. Do you go to school here?"

"Yeah, I'm a sophomore at UPenn."

"Wow, don't you have to be like really smart to go there?"

You blushed at Travis' question. Although you had worked super hard to get into UPenn, you hated when people would make a big deal about it. And you never knew how to answer this question without sounding like an asshole. "Um, I mean I guess so…you have to get good grades and be involved in a lot."

"So, probably no chance for me?" Travis joked.

You giggled and shook your head looking over at Nolan who had been pretty quiet the whole conversation. His cheeks flushed a bit more when you looked at him and he realized that he should probably say something. "What are you studying?"

Your breath hitched upon hearing Nolan's voice. It was deep and a bit raspy and you were even more intrigued. "Environmental Studies." You answered with a small smile.

"Cool, so you like the outdoors?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, I've always lived in the city, but I like to get out whenever I can and go camping and hike and stuff."

Nolan immediately knew that he wanted to get to know her more. He was happy that she said she came to stuff like this a lot and he'd have the opportunity to hang out with her.

 Meg came barreling into the three of you, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the pong table.

"Sorry boys, she's needed for beer pong!!" She called over her shoulder and you shot them an apologetic smile as she dragged you across the room.

 You and Meg dominated, as always, so you were occupied with beer pong for quite some time. But once you finally got knocked out, you looked around for Nolan because you really wanted to talk to him again. You spotted him in walking towards the kitchen so you decided to follow.

 He sensed a presence behind him and smiled when he turned and saw that it was you.

"Beer?" He asked holding a bottle out for you.

You nodded and took it from his hand, "thank you."

He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter. "You're quite the player."

You smirked at his compliment, "yeah, we're not all total nerds at UPenn, I've had my practice."

"So, are you from Philly?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yup, born and raised…"

"You say that like it's a bad thing…"

"I love it here, I do, but sometimes I wish I had gone somewhere else for school. Just to experience something else, you know?"

Nolan nodded, "Yeah, I left home when I was a teenager for hockey, it's nice to see what else is out there but there's definitely no place like home."

You smiled at his comment, he was very soothing. You had only known him for a few hours but you already felt super comfortable around him.

 You stayed in the kitchen with him and talked for the rest of the night. You hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten until Travis came looking for you telling you that you needed to go because Meg was super wasted.

"Okay, I'll be right out." You assured him so that you could try and invite Nolan back to your place.

"It was really nice talking with you, y/n…" Nolan said.

"Would you maybe wanna come back to my place?" You asked with a smirk.

He smiled and nodded, "let me just go to tell TK."

 You walked up to Travis and Meg, "Nolan is gonna come back with me, so you can guys just go home." Travis raised his eyebrows, "are you sure?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'm good. I promise."

"Okay…" Travis said hesitantly. "Text me when you get home please…and if you need anything." Although Nolan seemed like a good guy, Travis still didn't really know him and he was protective of you.

"Will do. Thanks, Travis. Good luck with Meg."

"Yeah, bets she passes out in the Uber…"

You laugh at his prediction and say goodbye to Meg.

 You turn around and Nolan is approaching you. "You ready?" You nod in response and go downstairs to wait for your Uber. Conversation seemed to just flow and you talked the whole way to your apartment.

 Your roommates thankfully were both in their rooms for the night so you didn't have to deal with any introductions.

"Do you want anything to drink?" You whispered as you entered your apartment.

"I'll have some water if that's okay." You nodded and handed him a water bottle before leading him down the hallway to your room. Unsurprisingly, you talked for a little bit longer before he finally made a move and started kissing you.

 You melted into his grasp as soon as you felt his lips on yours. The faint taste of beer on his lips had you desperate for more.

 --

 Ever since that first night he had you locked in. You hooked up a few nights a week when he was in Philly. You kept in touch when he was on road trips and when he went back to Winnipeg for the off season, you even visited him there a few times. He had grown to become your best friend. As the two of you got closer it wasn't always about sex, he'd come over after a tough loss, you'd confide in him when you were stressed about school or your friends. But despite how close the two of you were, you never felt your relationship progressed to anything more than friends.

 Everyone always thought you two were a couple, he invited you to team events as his plus one, you went on dates, you were exclusive, you argued like you were married…but for some reason you never put the label on it. You didn't totally mind…you were both still very young and not to mention putting a title on it really wouldn't change your relationship at all so you supposed it didn't matter. It would happen when it happens and that was fine… or so you thought. 

  I really hate when you say you love me, those spoken words are wet concrete

And in your arms I feel so lucky, weightless when you lie on me

 It started to really fuck you up when he said those three forbidden words. I love you. Well, in your case it was two, and not as meaningful or intimate as it usually is said for the first time.

 You guys had been together, or doing whatever you were doing, for two years. He was leaving for a week long road trip and you were at his place helping him pack before you brought him to the airport.

"Hey, y/n/n?" Nolan called from the bedroom. "Have you seen my black tie?"

"I'm ironing it right now!" You yelled back from the living room.

 Once you finished ironing his dress clothes you brought them into his bedroom for him to pack.

"Thank you." He said before giving you a quick kiss and zipping them carefully into his bag.

"Do you want to eat anything before you go?" You asked.

"Can you make me a ham sandwich, please?" He asked with a childish grin.

You chuckled and shook your head, "of course."

 You looked at the time and figured he'd need to eat in the car so you packaged it up so he could take it with him. Just as you finished, he emerged from the hallway with his bags in hand. You grabbed him a bottle of water and put it in a bag with his sandwich. You double checked with him that he had everything and you headed down to the car. You drove so Nolan could eat and the rest of the car ride was spent humming along to the music.

 "Do you want any help?" You asked as you put the car in the park out front.

"No, I'm all set." He said as he slid out of the car. You got out after him and stood by as he gathered his bags. "Thank you for your help this morning."

"Anytime, Nols. Text me when you land, please."

"Will do," he assured as he leaned down to kiss you, "love you, babe."

 You stood there shocked at his words as he walked away seemingly unbothered. True to his word, he had texted you when they landed and texted you throughout the week as normal. You were kind of expecting some sort of explanation, at least an acknowledgement of what he had said but it seemed like it just slipped out and he didn't think anything of it. You however, spent the whole week overthinking and freaking out.

 Of course you had thought about if you loved Nolan or not, but you just never thought saying it was on the table because of the status of your relationship. You hoped that when he returned he'd have something to say about it but he didn't. And you were the biggest chicken in the world so you never brought it up. He didn't say it too often, mostly when he'd leave for a road trip or if you weren't going to see each other for a while. You had been trying to build up the courage to say it back but you could never bring yourself to do it.

 It didn't seem to bother him that you didn't say it back. Which made you really think it wasn't that big of a deal for him, which is what confused and frustrated you so much. You didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about it all the time. Was he that dense? Or were you really just overthinking it? It got to the point where you hated to hear him say it. But it didn't matter how much you hated to hear it, because you knew you loved him too.

 Nolan was not known for showing much emotion. But you weren't either so it worked out for the two of you. You had other ways of expressing your feelings for each other. For you, it was helping him prepare for road trips, cooking him dinner, rubbing his shoulders, and when they started, helping him through his migraines. For him, it was bringing you coffee and dinner when you were cramming for an exam, always making sure you had Reese's and a bottle Sauvignon Blanc on hand, going for walks with you, taking you to concerts… but your favorite moments with Nolan were when the two of you were lying in bed or on the couch. Not doing anything, maybe you have a show on in the background, but you weren't paying attention to it. Instead you were listening to Nolan's heartbeat, focusing on his soft breathing. You were often under him, him acting as the perfect weighted blanket to help you feel at ease.

 --

 But darling if I could, I would fall for someone good, someone good for me

No matter how good the highs are, there of course some lows. Nothing too awful, but with the uncertainties of your relationship comes some strain. Sometimes the time spent together is too much, you feel overwhelmed, Nolan feels too much pressure… and you're never sure if you can work through it. You obviously always have, but each time you have a falling out it feels like the end.

 You had been sitting at home all night trying to reach Nolan. He had been having his migraines for a little while now and you were worried because you hadn't heard from him all day and he wasn't the playing in the game. You knew that if it was anything super serious, someone would have contacted you but you couldn't help but worry about him. You finally decided to go over to his place and see if he was okay.

 You knocked quietly upon arrival wanting to give him a chance to answer the door. After a few minutes of silence you decided to just go in. His apartment was dark, which wasn't unusual during a bad migraine, so you made your way back to his bedroom. His door was cracked so you pushed it open and saw Nolan lying down on the bed.

"Nolan." You whispered with no response. "Nolan." You whispered a little louder this time. He moved a bit so you knew he heard you but he still didn't say anything. You walked over to the bed and gently sat down next to him. "Are you okay?" He grunted in response, still not what you wanted, but something nonetheless. "I'm sorry for just coming, but I was worried…I haven't heard from you all day."

"You can see that I'm alive so you can leave now."

You sighed at his cold tone, you had heard it before and you knew better than to push so you got up to leave. You stopped before the door and turned towards him, "let me know if you need anything." You didn't wait for a response knowing that you probably wouldn't get one so you left his apartment.

 You tried to your best not to be upset by the interaction. You didn't know how Nolan felt in those moments and you wanted to give him what he needed, even if it meant him not wanting you around. It certainly wasn't the first time he shut you out and you knew it wouldn't be the last, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

 What made this time different was your interaction the next day. Usually after a night like that, he would apologize for how he treated you and would explain he just really needed to be alone. You of course always forgave him and things went back to normal. But this time, there was no apology, just more hostility.

 He had texted you asking if you could bring over something to eat. You asked him what he wanted and he said he didn't care, "get whatever you want."

You decided to just go to the store and get a few different things so he had options. When you showed up to his place he was on the couch with his eyes closed, so you quietly shut the door and put your bags down in the kitchen. You were putting a few things away when you heard him speak. "What did you bring?"

You walked over to him so you didn't have to yell, "I got a few things from the store…I got stuff for sandwiches, frozen pizza, soup…"

"Alright thanks." Was all he said. You stood there for a minute not knowing what to do. "What are you doing?" He asked looking over at you.

"I, um, well…" you fumbled out, taken aback by his tone, "do you want me to make something for you?"

"Just make me a sandwich I guess."

You nodded and walked away without another word.

 A few minutes later, you brought his sandwich to him on a plate and set it down a little harder than you probably should have. But you were starting to get upset so you didn't really care. He glared at you in response but thanked you as he sat up and grabbed it. You walked back into the kitchen and put everything away.

 "I'm gonna go, I guess. Let me know when you're feeling better." You said as he walked by him to put your coat on.

"Why are you leaving?"

"Well it's clear you're still not doing well, so I'm just gonna leave you alone." "I never told you that you needed to leave." "You didn't have to, Nolan." "What's your problem?" "I don't want to fight, especially if you’re still not feeling good, so I'm just gonna go."

"Why do we need to fight? I just asked you a question."

"Really? 'What’s your problem?' isn't exactly an innocent question."

"Well I don't really understand why you've got such an attitude." "I'm trying not to lose my patience Nolan, but you're making it really difficult." "Why?!" he asked starting to raise his voice, "What did I do?" "You're kind of treating me like shit, Nolan. I'm sorry that you had a bad migraine yesterday, and I'm sorry if I made it worse by coming here last night, but I was worried. I understand it's hard for you, but I hadn't heard from you all day. You usually let me in and help you through them and it’s fine if that's not what you want or need but you don't get to be a dick to me about it. You asked me to bring you food, I did, and you're still being rude to me. I don't mind being here Nols, I want to be here, but if you're going to act like this I'm not interested."

"You have no idea how hard it is for me, y/n," he yelled at you, "I didn't ask you to come over last night, I'm sorry you were worried but I can't put my migraine on hold just to make you feel better."

"I know that, Nolan! That's why I left once I saw that you were okay! But you were obviously okay enough this morning to text me asking for food, and you're obviously okay enough right now to be yelling at me! I know that I don't know how hard it is for you, but I'm doing my best to be here for you and support you however I can. I know that you can't always text me or call me, and that's fine. But the way you're treating me right now is not okay." "You don't have to be here for me all the time. You didn't have to bring me food today if you really didn't want to. You can say no, y/n, you don't owe me anything."

You were hurt by his words but you tried your best not to show it. "I wanted to bring you food because I care about you! I want to be here for you! It just doesn't seem like you want me here. You've been nothing but cold to me since you texted me this morning! I don't mind doing these things for you, Nol, but you could at least act grateful."

"Whatever, y/n/n. Just go I guess. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

You opened your mouth but you didn't know what you would even say, so you put your coat on and left.

 It had been a few days since your fight and you hadn't spoken to him at all. It was awful timing because you had midterms coming up and you were too distracted to study.

 You were currently trying to force your way through a study guide when you got a call from Meg. You sighed and answered the phone. "Hey, Meg."

"Hey, y/n/n, what's up?" "Trying to study…what about you?" "You're not going to the game tonight?"

"No, I really need to study." "But I thought you were going…?" "Yeah, well plans change. I can't go anymore." You heard some mumbling in the background, which you assumed was Travis. A few moments later Meg spoke up again.

"Are you and Nolan fighting?"

You rolled your eyes and sighed, "We had a pretty big fight the other day and I haven't talked to him since. But regardless, I need to study. I have midterms next week."

"Travis said Nolan has been grumpier than usual. What did you fight about?"

"His migraines I guess??? I don't even know, I tried standing up for myself but he wasn't having it so I left."

"You haven't talked at all since?" "Nope, not a word." "Are you okay?" "I don't know, not really honestly. But I really can't dwell on it right now because I need to focus on studying." "And how is that going for you?" "Not very well." "Okay, so why don't you come over and we can talk about it. If you're not studying anyway it might help to get things off your chest."

You sighed as you thought about it, knowing that she was right you agreed and got your things together to go over there.

 She had a glass of wine waiting for you and you sat down and told her everything.

"Okay, well you were right to stand up yourself. You've done a lot for him recently and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

"Yeah, but he's right, I didn't have to do any of it for him. He didn't ask, I just did it." "Okay so you didn't have to, but despite your weird ass relationship, it's not that crazy that you did. Everything you've done for Nolan I would do for Travis in a heartbeat. Yeah, we're engaged and it's a little different, but you and Nolan have something really special. It's beyond me and everyone in the world for that matter, why you two don't just get over yourselves and date officially. You've worked through fights in the past, you'll work through this too." "But they've never been this big before. And I don't like that it was about his migraines. Even if he apologizes who's to say that he won't act like this again. I feel like I can't fault him for it because it's his way of dealing with them. But I also know that I don't deserve to be treated that way so I just feel like we're not meant to be." "Y/n, that's bullshit and you know it. You and Nolan are like, the perfect match. It's been a few days, I'm sure he's feeling better, you've both calmed down, so sit down and talk about it. You know you're not going to be able to study until you do."

You sighed knowing that she was right, "okay…yeah you're right. I'll text him." 

You: Hey, Nol.

You relaxed into the couch, feeling a sense of relief now that you've had some sort of contact. You took a few sips of wine as you waited, but thankfully it wasn't too long.

Nolan: Hey, y/n/n…

You: Can we talk?

Nolan: Yeah, wanna come over after the game?

You: Yeah, just text me when you get home.

Nolan: You're not coming to the game?

You: I wasn't going to…I really need to study.

Nolan: Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later.

You decided not to respond, you still weren't super happy with him, so you didn't think you needed to defend your decision.

 "Alright, I'm going over there to talk after the game." You updated Meg.

"Good. So you'll get ready with me???" She asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Meg. I do really need to try and study. I'm gonna head out."

"Fine," she pouted, "but you better let me know how it goes tonight!!!"

"I will, bye Meg."

 Between having the game on in the background and thinking about what you were going to say, you weren't able to get much studying done. But you still tried your hardest until you received a text from Nolan telling you that he was leaving the arena.

 You were hoping he would be in an okay mood…they won the game but Nolan didn't play. You didn't think he was having a migraine, it was probably more of a precaution, but nonetheless he'd be upset that he wasn't playing.

 When you got to Nolan's he was sitting on the couch with two glasses of water in front of him. You smiled at the gesture, although it quickly faded when you remembered why you were even here. He stood up to greet you and you went and sat next to him on the couch.

"That was a good game…"

"You watched?" "Of course."

Nolan nodded, "I just wish I could have played…"

You smiled sadly, "I know, I'm sorry, Nols. Not feeling good?" He sighed and leaned back, "I don't know, I mean, I feel like I could have played, but it's just not worth the risk of bringing one on…"

 You sat in silence for a little bit, neither of you knowing where to start. Just as you were about to speak up, Nolan beat you to it. "I'm really sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I know that you were just trying to help and I know that you don't have to do those things for me but I really do appreciate it. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have dismissed you the way that I did. I know it's not a great excuse, but it was just really bad the other night, I knew that I wasn't going to be fun to be around that's why I didn't want you here. But I don't have an excuse for how I treated you that morning. I had no right to say those things to you, I don't even really know what came over me. You've always been amazing to me and you do mean so much to me, y/n/n, you have no idea. I just hope that you'll forgive me…" "I appreciate your apology, Nols. My intention is never to overcrowd you or make you feel like you need my help. I'm here to help you with whatever you need and it's okay if you need some space too. It'd just be nice to be let down a little easier…"

Nolan smirked at your last comment, "I know, I'm sorry. I promise I will be better at communicating my needs with you." He put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and he kissed the top of your head.

 --

 You're my nemesis, you're my best friend

We nearly walk on common ground

 You really didn't have big fights like that often, but you did however argue about stupid, little things all of the time.

 One of the things that drove you absolutely nuts about your relationship with Nolan was how different the two of you were when it came to planning things and being on time. Nolan was very "go with the flow" and "we'll get there when we get there" which you loved for him…but you were much different. You liked to have things planned and you absolutely hated being late.

 You were hanging out at your apartment one Friday afternoon watching Netflix when you got a text from Nolan.

 Nolan: Hey, I need a date to an event tonight. I'll pick you up at 6:45.

You looked at the time and it was almost 2 o'clock.

Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa…what kind of event?

Nolan: Pretty fancy, black tie.

Me: Nolan!!!!! I don't have anything to wear!!!

Nolan: You have tons of dresses.

Me: Not any that fit black tie!

Nolan: Oh, well if you go now you'll have time to get one.

 You scoffed and shook your head. Of course, he'd tell you about an event a few hours before and be so nonchalant about it.

 Me: Fine, but I'm not happy.

Nolan: Why? You love these things.

Me: Yeah, when I have time to prepare for them!

Nolan: What do you need to prepare for? Just get a dress and do your makeup or whatever.

 You chose not to respond to that because you didn't actually want to start a fight. It was also hard to actually be mad at him when he really had no idea what was wrong with the current situation.

 You sent an SOS text to Meg and asked her to meet you at Nordstrom to help you pick something out.

 Two hours later, there was a mound of dresses and jumpsuits in your dressing room but you finally found the perfect one. It was a beautiful, sleek, black, satin jersey gown.

"You look so hot, y/n/n." Meg complimented as you spun around in front of the mirror.

"Thanks…I just still can't believe I'm just finding out about this stupid gala." "Yeah, it's a little annoying. But look at you, you found the perfect dress and you still have time to get ready."

"I know, I just hate when he does this. You know how I am about stuff like this." "Yes, I know, Miss Organized…but it's not the end of the world."

You rolled your eyes at your cousin and went into the dressing room to change.

 You hopped in the shower once you got home and did your hair and makeup as quickly as you could while still making it look good.

 You heard Nolan come into your apartment and you glanced at the time because you weren't ready yet. You breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only 6:30. You finished up your makeup, put on your heels, and grabbed your coat before walking down the hall to greet Nolan. He stood up from the couch when he heard you coming but was engrossed in his phone so he didn't look up at you. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat to get his attention.

"You ready?" He asked without looking up.

You ignored his question and said his name firmly, "Nolan." He finally looked up at you but still didn't say anything about how you looked. "Do I look okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you were so worried about, babe. You look amazing."

"Don't make a habit of, Nols. I was super stressed about it."

He gave you an incredulous look but sighed and nodded his head, "sorry, princess. I'll make sure to tell you a year in advance next time."

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and walked towards the door.  

 ~~~

 One other thing about you and Nolan was that you bickered…constantly. He honestly drove you nuts more often than not but for some reason that was why you loved him so much.

 You would argue about what to have for dinner.

 "Pizza?" He suggested.

"We always have pizza, what about Chinese?" You protested.

He rolled his eyes at your suggestion, "we always have Chinese, too."

"Sushi?"

Nolan shook his head, "I don't feel like sushi." "Sandwiches?"

"Nah…" "Well, I don't know, Nolan! Why don't we just go to the store and make something." "That'll take too long." You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Whatever, just pick something, I don't care."

"You say that now but you're going to complain about it as soon as it gets here."

"Well we can't agree on anything so whatever, just get what you want." You didn't give him a chance to argue as you stomped down the hall to do some homework.

 You always argued about directions.

 "Why are you going this way?" Nolan asked as you made a turn.

"Because it's faster. There's always a ton of traffic the other way." "No it's not, this way is like 30 minutes longer. Even with traffic we'll get there faster the other way." "No we won't, Nolan. I drive this way all the time, it's fine, trust me." "Whatever you say, we're gonna be late though." "No we're not." "Yes we are." "No we're not!" "Yes we are." "Fine, if you're so worried about it, you drive." You huffed out as you pulled over and threw the car in park and got out of the car. Nolan shook his head at how ridiculous you were being but switched places with you anyway.

You ended up getting there 10 minutes late.

 "I told you the other way was faster." You said as you climbed out of the car.

Nolan scoffed, "if you hadn't thrown a fit and just kept driving we would have been on time." "Are you kidding me? It took two minutes to switch places. That's not why we're late." "Whatever.…" He grumbled as he shot you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at him and he shook his head walking a few steps in front of you.

 He hated that you always hogged the blankets.

 To no surprise, Nolan woke up in the middle of night shivering with no blankets on. He sighed angrily and tried to pull the blankets over to him. He wasn't successful because you were all wrapped up in them and they were impossible to move.

"Y/n." He said nudging your shoulder. "Y/n/n." You stirred a bit but didn't wake up. "Y/n." He said louder. Nothing. He sighed again grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand. He poured a little bit on your face and you shot up in shock.

"What the fuck, Nolan?!"

"You were hogging the blankets!" "So you dumped water on me?!"

"You wouldn't wake up!" "You're such an ass." You seethed as you pulled the blanket back to you and rolled over to face away from him. Nolan scoffed at your action and tugged on the blanket. "Get your own blanket if you're so concerned about it." You said as you held onto it so he couldn't have any.

"And I'm the ass…" He muttered in defeat as he got up to grab a blanket from the other room.

 You hated the way he put the toilet paper on the holder.

 "Nolan!!!" You screamed from the bathroom. You were pretty sure at this point he was doing it just to piss you off. You hated when people put the toilet paper on upside down. The right way to put it was so the tail was on top. It flowed so much better and you didn't understand how people could think that it’s okay the other way.

As you angrily switched it around, Nolan was out in the living room smirking because he knew exactly what you were yelling about. He feigned innocence as you came stomping down the hallway yelling at him for putting it on like that. "Oh, I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to."

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed. "Seriously, Nolan. You know it pisses me off." "I know, I’m sorry, I just don't think about it when I'm changing it, because it's really not a big deal. It's just toilet paper."

"Yeah, but it's so much easier when it's right side up."

"Some would argue that you have it wrong." "Yeah they might, but they're stupid. If you don’t care, why can't you just put it the way I like it." "I try to, babe, I just forget sometimes." "Well please, try and remember."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

 A few days later, Nolan went into the bathroom and chuckled when he saw a sign posted by the extra toilet paper.

Please put toilet the right side up. Thank you :)

 Deciding he wanted to dance with the devil, he switched the toilet paper so it was the "wrong way." It took a while, but a few hours later he was in the kitchen grabbing a snack when he heard his name being yelled from the bathroom. He laughed and shook his head, preparing for the storm that was coming his way.

 --

 But we're suckers for the thrill, playing fuck, marry, and kill

Honey you're all three.

 No matter how much argued, bickered, or fought, you loved him. He was your person. You were with each other for your best moments and you stuck by each other through your worst.

 Your best friend, your lover, your soulmate. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

 ---

 You and Nolan were enjoying a rare day off you had together lounging around the apartment. Nolan had noticed that one of his favorite bands, Mt. Joy were on Instagram live. He shot them a quick text asking if it was okay if he joined. They of course said yes so he hopped on.

 You were in the kitchen baking cookies, only half listening to what Nolan was saying. However, you immediately stopped what you were doing when you heard something that Nolan said. "I'm just hanging out at home with my girlfriend. Enjoying the day off." Once you got over the initial shock you listened more intently to see if he would say anything more about it. "Yeah, we've been together for a while. Pretty much since I came to Philly." Your jaw dropped. Of course. Of course he would play it off as if you've been dating for years. Apparently you were lost in thought for longer than you thought because the next thing you know Nolan came up and waved his hand in front of your face. "You there?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm your girlfriend, huh?"

He smirked at your tone, "of course you're my girlfriend. Am I not your boyfriend?" "Oh my god, Nolan!"

"What?!" "How long have I been your girlfriend?" He shrugged, "I don't know, I thought we were always kind of dating."

You scoffed, "unbelievable." He gave you a questioning look but you shrugged him off. "Nothing…never mind."

"No, tell me." He insisted.

"It's just, we never really talked about it or had the conversation so I didn't think we were actually boyfriend and girlfriend." "So we've just been…what, a thing? For three and a half years?"

"Well, I don't know, I guess. We've never celebrated an anniversary or anything. And this is the first time I've ever heard you call me you your girlfriend." "Oh, well, I'm sorry y/n/n. I guess after it had been so long I just kind of assumed." You gave him an amused huff. "What? Should we have talked about it?"

"No, no, I guess not…" you reassured, "it's just so…us."

"Us?" "Our whole relationship has been me overthinking and you under thinking, apparently…no offense."

He chuckled at your explanation. "You've been overthinking our relationship?"

"Well, yeah! I never knew what we were but you never seemed worried about it so I didn't want to bring it up."

"Okay…so if you need it spelled out for you…" he started earning himself an eye roll from you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"I thought I already was?" You replied with a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing but teased you right back. "So are we good? We didn't just break up, did we?"

"No, I love you too much to give you up that easy." He raised his eyebrows at your admission. "Oh, you love me, huh?" You stuttered a bit, realizing that because you had been so insecure you had never actually said it back. "See I notice things, not such an under thinker, am I?"

"I'm sorry, it's my overthinking... I always just thought it kind of slipped out when you said it and because I didn't know what we were I was scared if I said it back things would end." "What?!" He asked, looking at you like you had two heads. "How does that even make sense?!" "I don't know!!" You defended, "I just thought…I don't know... I guess I really don't have an explanation. Just that I'm a little bit crazy."

"It's okay, I already knew that. Your insistence that there is a correct way to put toilet paper on the holder was a dead giveaway."

"Ha ha ha…" you fake laughed, "you do put it the right way now, though…"

"I can't have you going off the rails on me…"

You gently shoved him and shook your head. He smiled and cupped your face in his hands. "I love you, y/n/n. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Nolly." You said with a smirk.

Nolan grimaced at the nickname, "okay, maybe not when you call me that."

"Oh, come on, Nolly. You know you love it." "I don't...but I love you so I'll let it slide."

You stood on your tip toes prompting Nolan to bend down so you could kiss him. He picked you up and set you on the counter and you made out for a few minutes.

"As much as I want to make sweet, sweet love to you baby, this dough smells really good…" He said, suggesting you finish the cookies.

"Aye, aye, captain." You saluted as you pushed him out of the way and hopped off the counter.

-- 

For the rest of your life with Nolan, there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't want to fuck, marry, and kill him. But it never stopped you from loving him.

[smarchit]

Look Around, Look Around pt 6

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse, blood, labor

Notes: Blown away by Tumblr’s response to this tbh. I’m absolutely overwhelmed by all the kind comments <3

He was supposed to take you back to Sorgan after that job. Supposed to take you back and let you spend the last few weeks of your pregnancy in comfort, let you give birth there in safety.

You managed to convince him to take you to a few more planets under the guise of wanting to see if there were any cities with salt baths that would help your swollen feet and legs. He knew you were lying through your teeth, but he never said anything one way or the other.

Now at a little over eight months pregnant and with your own gravitational pull, you walked through a vibrant market place of a large, exotic city during the height of their local fertility festival. You had been given baskets laden with blankets, food, and natural home remedies for easing the pain of birth.

People threw colorful powders and fragrant flowers in the streets at one another and it was extremely difficult not to get caught in their crossfire. You were certain that you were covered in vibrant color - you may have even been the target on more than one occasion because of your pregnancy. Not that you minded. You were having too much fun.

The little one was captivated by brightly colored dancers that spit fire in brilliant arcs across the path. The bells on their ankles caught his attention more and whenever one would cartwheel in front of his pod, he would make a grab for them, despite the gentle scolds from Mando.

You currently were sitting at a round patio table at an outdoor café. Lively music from a nearby band was muffled slightly by the crowd enough that you could speak without losing your voice.

"This is amazing!" you said to Mando, who looked incredibly out of place amidst bright colors and bare skin of the locals. He shifted in his seat and you knew he was scanning the crowd for potential threats. It wasn't personal, and it wasn't anything against the planet or its inhabitants, but more just who Mando was as a person.

Good gods, did the man ever relax?

Mando had ordered a cup of soup for the child, and expressed his displeasure for you turning down food.

"You need to eat something," he said firmly, straightening his back.

"I'm not hungry," you sighed. "The moon is currently displacing my vital organs."

"Your moon is exactly why you have to try to eat something," he said with a sigh. He shook his head and looked back over at the child, who was glancing between the two of you. When Mando looked at him, he smiled and babbled.

"She's moving around a lot in there today," you groaned, rubbing one side of your belly. "Take it easy, little moon. We're not going anywhere."

"Must be getting cramped in there," Mando hummed without looking back at you. He did another once over of the crowd and then sighed.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

He shrugged. "Just too crowded."

"Not a people-person, Mando?" you hummed. 

"You wouldn't be either if you were me."

You supposed that was true. Even a few months ago you wouldn't have come to a place like this where bodies touched and jostled on either side of you. You got comfortable, but you imagined if you were in his boots, you would hate places like this. Too much chaos. Too many things that could go wrong.

"We should go," he said after a moment. He grabbed a basket and helped you to your feet before guiding you through a dip in the crowd.

It took a while to reach the hangar where the Crest was located due to the throng of bodies in your way.

Once you arrived back, Mando handed you a towel to wipe powder from your hair and clothes.

"The puck got activated," he said grimly as he locked the hatch.

You were shaking flower petals from your hair and the smile instantly dropped from your face.

"What?"

Mando turned to you. "I knew it was too easy. He let you go too easily for that to be the end of it."

You walked backwards until you found a seat and lowered yourself into it. Your heart pounded in your ears and you barely registered his words.

Your husband knows exactly where you are.

He knew what you were doing, where you were going, he might even know where you planned on giving birth. Would he attack then? When you were raw and vulnerable, bed soaked in your blood and eyes wild with instinct?

Like a caged animal. Though injured animals will do anything to protect themselves.

"Hey, hey, don't give out on me," Mando said loud enough to draw you from your fear. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you gently so you would look at him. "You're safe with me, okay? I'm not going to let him take you." 

"Why is he-- Why is he doing this?" you whispered as you felt tears start to fall. You could barely speak. The thought of him finding you touching you, putting his hands on you... On your baby. It made you sick. It made you scared. It made you angry.

"Because he's a coward," Mando said softly, guiding your face back to look at him when you glanced away. "He's small; he has to hurt others to feel better. You are safe. You and your moon." He placed a warm hand on your belly. The baby flip flopped in response.

"Please don't let him get me," you begged. "Promise me. Not me. Not my baby."

Mando looked at you and nodded. "I promise." He leaned up on his knees and pressed his forehead to yours. He held the position for a moment before he got to his feet.

"We're leaving this planet right now," he said. He picked up the baby and set him back in his pod and turned to set coordinates.

"Where will we go?" you asked, suddenly feeling like the smallest person in the galaxy. "Where will we go that he can't find us?"

"I have a few places in mind," he said as the ship dragged itself out of the planet's atmosphere. "Safe places."

"Sorgan?" you asked hopefully.

He paused for a minute. "Sorgan isn't safe. If he knows you were there he'll have people there waiting."

You held on tight as he punched in the coordinates for some unknown planet in on the pad. 

What would you do if it came down to capture and return?

You couldn't help but cry. You looked down at your stomach and cupped both hands around it.

"I'm so sorry, little one," you whispered.

***

A few hours later, Mando dropped the ship out of hyperspace. A planet lay before you, dark and unfriendly looking in the blackness of space. There were a few lights from cities spread out in the far reaches of the large sprawling continent, but beyond that, you could see nothing.

"What is this place?" you asked.

"Arvala-7," he replied. "I had a... Friend who lived here. Worked on a moisture farm. Helped me with the kid."

"He doesn't live here anymore?" you asked, forcing yourself out of your seat with difficulty. You ignored the pain in your belly and back - normal for this late in your pregnancy. False labor couldn't detract from your fears right now.

"He died," Mando said softly.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't reply and started the deceleration to land in a remote section of desert.

"You should be safe here," he said as he lowered the hatch for the two of you to step out.

"Should be?"

He nodded. "Should be."

"How could he find me?" you asked softly as Mando set about shouldering open the long-locked front door.

"Tracking pucks," he grunted, throwing his whole body against the door. He let out a rather undignified cry as he fell inside when the lock finally gave way and the door banged open. When he stood he fished one out of his pocket and held it out in his palm to you. It flashed a rapid red as it neared you. "That's how."

"Why now?" you asked. Rage welled up in your heart at the thought of this vile man getting a hold of you again.

"Probably just wants to scare you," he said as he set about tidying the little house up. "Knows that baby is coming soon. Just wants to stress you out more."

As if on cue, a particularly rough false contraction hit and you vaulted forward to grip the edge of the table. You arched your back, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

"Oh, kriff," you gasped, gritting your teeth. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a few deep breaths in and out. "Maker, I don't want to know how bad the real thing is gonna be."

"You won't be alone," Mando said softly as he placed a hand on your back.

"Yeah, well," you gasped, "No offense, but have you ever delivered a baby?"

Mando was quiet. 

"Yeah, didn't think so."

"You'll be fine," he assured. "Sit. I'm gonna go look around, see what we can salvage and use."

You sighed and nodded. "If you need help, let me know. Sometimes walking helps with the pain."

He looked around at the state of the main living room. "Okay. Here, I'm gonna fix the bed. You go and get the blankets from the ship. Take a few trips if they're heavy."

You took the key from him and started back towards the ship, a hand grasping your belly. It's okay, my moon.

As you boarded the ship and headed towards the bedroom, you heard what sounded like voices from the cockpit. Taunting voices drifted down the ladder and through the corridor to you, though you couldn't make out what was being said. As your heart hammered away in your chest, you tiptoed to the ladder to ascend to the cockpit. 

It became obvious to you as soon as you breached the top of the ladder that the voices were on a recording, an old transmission that must've automatically started playing when the ship picked up a bio feedback on board.

"...don't worry, Mando. We just want the little whore you been travelling with. Not that ugly kid," a low voice growled up at you from the holopad. A thin blue image of a burly, bald man was staring up at you and illuminating the otherwise dark cockpit. "Ain't got nothin' to worry about with us. In and out, like always. She got a good price out on her, and with that baby intact, there's a double offer on 'em. So we call it even, got it? Besides, Xi'an misses you."

Your heart was pounding in your throat as you sank into the pilot's chair. Mando was right. People were looking for you.

A chilling thought entered your mind and no matter how much you tried, you couldn't shake it.

Did Mando turn you in?

You broke out in a cold sweat as you glanced around the cockpit for something that could be used as a weapon. If he knew that you saw this message...

Maybe he didn't have to know you saw it. After all, he just sent you in here to get the bedding. He wouldn't know... You hit delete, hoping maybe he wouldn't find out about it.

You quickly descended the ladder and retrieved some of the bedding and carried it down the ramp of the ship.

Mando was tending to the moisture tanks a little way away from the house and you eyed him warily. It was the first time in six months you had not trusted him. 

Why would he wait until now? Were he and his friends waiting to literally snatch the baby from between your legs and drag you by your hair, kicking and screaming to your ex-husband, a bloody trail dragging behind you?

Mando wouldn't do that. You knew he wouldn't. So why now were you so afraid? Was it just the mounting anxiety of new motherhood catching up to you?

You busied yourself as best you could while you waited for him to come back to the house, both by trying to clean up all the dust that gathered and by watching the baby.

He had been uneasy the last few days, especially around you. He would babble softly and reach for you to pick him up, which you had been having trouble doing due to the fact that you could barely bend over. 

One time he cried so hard and so loud that Mando ended up taking him for a walk off the ship until he fell asleep so your breasts would stop leaking and soaking through your shirt.

The lights came on automatically a few hours later and were droning steadily for half an hour by the time Mando came back inside

"So bad news," he said with a tired sigh as he dropped into a chair at the rickety kitchen table. "Moisture tanks are busted to hell. Looks like Jawas scavved the machinery. I tried to salvage what I could but no luck."

"What are we going to do?" you asked softly.

Mando shrugged. "Gonna have to go find somewhere. We're gonna need a lot of it, especially when that baby decides to make an appearance."

"Should I come with y--"

"No. You're gonna stay here," he said firmly. "I'll leave my gun and a knife for you."

"You're going to leave?" you asked, heart racing.

"I'll only be gone a couple of hours," he said, getting to his feet. He unholstered his blaster and took a knife from his sheath. "Safety is off on that. Use it like I taught you if something happens, okay?"

He handed them both to you and picked up the baby. "I'll leave the ship. If anyone comes, you go inside and you lock that door. Nothing on this planet will get inside. I'll be back by morning."

Mando came over to you and cupped his hand around the back of your head and pulled you close to press his forehead against yours. Second time he's done that...

He seemed hesitant to pull away from you. He placed the baby in his pod and looked back at you, his shoulders tense and squared.

"You'll be safe here. I promise," he said as he opened the door. "I'm gonna take the kid with me. You need to take it easy and he'll just be upset the whole time."

You looked at him, eyes wide with fear as you watched him leave.

For a moment, you debated telling him about the message on his ship. But you knew then he wouldn't leave - and you needed water. Washing, cleaning, sanitation, drinking. A lot of water was necessary, especially if you were going to be here for a while.

He shut the door behind him and you waited a few minutes before you got up and shoved a broom through the door handle, effectively locking it from the inside. If you needed to escape out the back door, it would buy you a moment of time.

He knows where I am. He knows I'm with the Mandalorian... He knows that I am alone.

You had to do something to keep your mind busy and off of the thought of being taken back to evil himself. It wasn't easy, and you desperately wished that he left the baby. He was right though. You needed to rest and sleep as much as you possibly could.

You also wished that you brought something to do to distract you from the excruciating pain that was now tearing itself through your lower body. As quickly as you could, you ran to the section of the abandoned homestead that had once been used to repair the moisture tanks, both now stripped bare of essentials. A passing knowledge of some of how some of this stuff works comes in handy every now and then. You had a timer fastened together in no time, set to beep once a minute. It would keep you alert, at least.

As you made your way back to the main part of the house, the pain subsided. You allowed yourself to eat part of the food that Mando had brought in, hoping that would quell the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

The baby turned and shifted as the night went on, even as you bedded down to for the evening. 

Sleep didn't come easy that night for you and as you lay awake in the darkness of Arvala-7. All you could do was hope that you wouldn't be alone when the baby came.

***

Mando wasn't back the next morning. He wasn't there to help you out of bed, or to call you me'suum. The Crest was still there though, which brought a little comfort to you that he hadn't simply abandoned you on this desert planet to die of thirst.

He didn't come back by lunchtime.

Or dinner.

Or long after the lights came on.

You found a small leather skin under the bed that had about a day's worth of water in it. It was warm and had a bit of a sandy grit to it, but you drank deeply from it all the same.

That night, in the early hours of the morning, your waters broke.

And you were utterly alone.

***

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @poeticparker @blackbird337 @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell @qhbr2013 @bookszazzy @marvelbros-oneshots @cuteboyking @boomtownboy @connor-challoner @fandom-lover-4 @itsmysticalmystery @love-struck-aries

[s4ijoh]

heaven is a place on earth. atsumu miya

ATSUMU MIYA X GN! READER

GENRE: domestic; slice of life; just a comfort piece

WORD COUNT: 1.6k+

WARNINGS: established relationship; mentions of stress; atsumu is a tease (yes, it deserves a warning), + heavy imagery, i enjoy setting the mood

coming home to atsumu after an exhausting day…

you are greeted with a welcoming warmth engulfing your body once you step into atsumu’s apartment. it is rather quiet inside, other than the static buzzing noise coming from the living room at the end of the corridor - you remember atsumu complaining about how the television signal gets worse on days like this.

the homely environment felt inside the dimly lit apartment instantly comforts you, providing you with a shelter from the hostile weather outside. the orange lighting creates a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to grey sky outdoors, covered in a thick layer of clouds - a prevailing threat that it should start to rain at any moment.

while kicking off your shoes, after you’re done getting rid of the layers of clothing that were weighing on your body, you wonder if you should accept, at last, atsumu’s offer to move in with him. despite the fact that this place was not your actual house, it sure did feel like coming home whenever you walked in. it was, indeed, your safe haven, not only from the weather outside but from the world. as soon as you set a foot inside this place, all your concerns seem to be washed away.

you figured it must have been the weather to further instigate your current bad mood but you can’t put aside the thought that today, everything seems to be working against you and there is nothing more you crave than to sit in the comfort of atsumu’s presence and forget all about the trivial things plaguing your mind.

oddly enough, you are not greeted with his familiar face peeking through the door of the living room, his lips stretching into a beamy smile as he excitedly yells your name upon seeing you, as it is usual. however, although your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, his presence is felt throughout the whole apartment.

the place is charged with traces of him - from the sweet but manly scent of his perfume lingering faintly in the air, to his keys with the small pendant you bought tossed carelessly next to a framed picture of the two of you, on top of the entry table as well as osamu’s coat that atsumu never returned because he claimed it suited him better anyway, hung on the doorknob of his room.

it is also hard not to notice the different pairs of slippers scattered along the wooden floor of the entry hall however, you have grown so familiar with the sight that you would have paid no mind to it if it weren’t for you tripping over one of the long forgotten pairs of fuzzy slippers. what otherwise would have looked like slouchiness only made the place feel more inviting. you have grown acquainted with the chaos, learned to embrace even, it’s familiarity never failed to put you at ease - in the end, everything was just on it’s right place.

atsumu is clumsier than he looks. he whined about how every new set of slippers he bought would go missing within a week, only for him to purchase a new set and for you to find the previous lost pair somewhere under a piece of furniture which resulted in the eclectic collection of slippers he owns to this day. 

walking across the hall, you come to a halt once you reach the living room, waiting for a frowning atsumu to notice you leaning against the doorway whilst he presses on the buttons of the tv remote in a frenzy on yet another hopeless attempt to get the television to miraculously start working - the “no signal” alert on the screen won’t disappear no matter how many times or how rough he hits the buttons on the remote, you have been over this many times with him.

“you never know” he would answer adamantly, with his brows raised in mock defiance. how naive, desperate times require desperate measures, you suppose.

a small giggle erupts from your chest capturing atsumu’s attention, his head snapping in your direction as his lips almost instantly stretch into bright smile - it was his body’s intuitive reaction whenever he laid eyes on you. atsumu calls out for you, dragging on the last syllable of your name in enthusiasm and you can’t help the grin, albeit weak, that crawls its way up to your lips. he could always steal a smile from you, no matter how tired you were.

upon noticing the clear exhaustion on your features, his broad smile morphs into a sympathetic pout as he tosses the remote on the cushions next to him, stretching his arms wide open for you, inviting you in with a quiet “get over here”

you drag yourself to the the checkered sofa where atsumu is sitting, awaiting you, to gladly accept his offer. and just like magnetic attraction, your body falls limp into his embrace, finding solace in his arms as you slump down on his lap with a relieved sob.

atsumu is left to deal with the dead weight of your body on top of him yet instead of complaining, he embraces you just tight enough to earn a quiet squeal from you, your head lifting itself from it’s comfortable spot snuggled against the warm skin of his neck only for you to shoot him a glare.

“where’s my kiss” atsumu taps his lips twice with his index finger to which you bend your head down to comply with his request.

honestly, how could you have forgotten. exhaustion really must have got the best of you because there was nothing more you had craved throughout the whole day than to feel his lips against yours, you could really use a kiss or two - or maybe a few - right now. however, you barely have the chance to connect your lips with his before atsumu is pinching your nose, prompting you to withdraw.

“your lips are freezing cold!” he whines in response to the inquisitive look on your face, his eyes wide in a rather theatrical manner. your boyfriend’s melodramatic behaviour has you rolling your eyes back in annoyance before you lean back in only for atsumu to cover your mouth with the palm of him hand.

“needy are we? rough day, pretty girl?” he teases with a taunting grin plastered on that frustratingly pretty face of his.

“go to hell, atsumu. just kiss me already” if only you weren’t this tired and atsumu wasn’t looking this tempting, maybe you could’ve kept the frustration from overflowing for you knew how he would pick on your helplessness only to keep teasing you and test the effect he had on you. and, you hate to admit that you have no restraint when it comes to him but, truth is, there is not much you can endure until you give in to atsumu and he manages to get you right where he wants you - you were always so pliant on his hands, he found it endearing to say the least.

trying your luck yet again, you hesitantly brush your lips against his, looking up at him through your lashes. you move carefully, almost as if you’re lurking on a prey, keeping a close watch on his face as you knew all it took was a false step for him to get away.

“you didn’t answer me” and just like that he pulls away from you, his voice cutting through the silence and ruining the mood, much to your dismay.

“yes, i had a rough day and you’re not making it any better, ‘tsumu” you spit the words out, although you reckon your tone was sorta harsh you are fuming at this point. on days like this, where it almost feels like it is your body’s basic need to feel him close to you, there is nothing you wouldn’t do for a kiss of his and he truly wasn’t helping you feel any better. two could play this game but you don’t even have the strength to put up a fight and taunt him back, wishing he would just give in to you as easily as you give in to him.

“so eager, i must be one hell of a kisser” he whispers against your lips. atsumu is having too much fun playing this little game of cat and mouse, repeatedly dodging your every move as you chase after his lips. if you didn't know any better, you would almost say it was taking every fiber on his being to hold himself back by the way he is ogling your lips.

“tell me, baby, do you want to feel my lips against yours that bad, hm?”

“yes, can you kiss me now?” your straightforwardness catches him off guard, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend as he tilts his head to kiss you on the cheek, dropping the act at last.

“no need to be mad, baby, patient girls get whatever they want” he grabs your cheeks, squishing them together and proceeds to place a quick peck on your pout before he slumps back against the couch, resting his arms over the lenght of the back of the couch.

“come get your kiss” he says in defiance with a wicked smirk which has you narrowing your eyes.

you lean forward cautiously, trying to understand what is the catch here, though he doesn’t even flinch when you crawl your way to wrap your arms around his neck. it is when you let your guard down, wearing the smile of victory as you lean in for a kiss that atsumu dodges you once again but he doesnt even give you time to complain before he is gripping your waist and tugging you into his chest before he crashes his lips into yours.

oh and was it worth the wait. atsumu could take you to heaven and beyond with just a simple innocent kiss. you feel like you’re soaring the sky and now you never want to come back down to earth ever again. you could argue that he is not perfect but, despite all his flaws, atsumu is still a true angel in disguise.

[a/n]: honestly i made atsumu’s character out to be messier than i imagine him to be but, i had this really cute picture in my head of a v v cozy house with lots of slippers scattered all over + had these flirty dialogue prompts written down & decided to put them together and thought atsumu fitted the role perfectly so yea!

this aint nothing special, just a good ol’ domestic au! but i hope you all enjoy what i have come up with after i’ve been neglecting writing for a whole month now <33

+ next batch is soulmate au! mattsun!!

[nnnnnjkkhf]

the experiment | kth ft. pjm

◇ kim taehyung x reader ft. pjm

◇ smut; slight angst  | E2L!au | poolparty!au

◇ word count: 4.3 k

NSFW CONTENT | 18+

notes: this is my first ever fanfic, so i apologize if you think something is wrong. pls don’t hate me <3

warnings: soft dom!taehyung, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (m&f receiving), masturbation, protected sex, public fingering (wHOOPS)

summary:  one of your group mates for research was giving you a hard time just because he was always annoyed by you and the attention the boys are giving you, but you don’t know that.

 —

“Ding!” a message from Jungkook popped on the top of your screen while searching for the list of equipments you needed for the experiment. Shit, you mentally cursed. You looked up, and everyone in your group was staring at you.

“Why the hell are you texting when we are still discussing the things we need for this research?” Kim Taehyung snapped. Yes, snapped. This guy was giving you a headache ever since you’ve been classmates this school year. He hates you and you don’t even know the reason why. Jeongha, one of the girls in your group, smirked. 

“Maybe one of her boys is texting her for booty calls.” you glared at her. 

“Maybe you're just jealous that no one’s texting you.” you said, mimicking her facial expressions.

“Shut up, ___. I was asking you why you are texting when we’re discussing our experiment.” Taehyung said out of irritation. This guy. He doesn’t even know if I was really texting or not! I need to kick Jeon's ass later for texting me when he knows I’ll be in an important group meeting!

“Well, one of my boys needs me. If you’re done talking, maybe I can leave?” You didn’t wait for his response and started to walk away from the group. He is so annoying. I’ll just send my part to Ji-eun later, so I won’t need to interact with Taehyung. He’s getting on my nerves. You opened Jungkook’s message to check what was so important for him to message you during a group discussion. 

[1:48 pm] assjeon: “___! I got an invitation to Jimin’s pool party tonight. I know you won’t say no since you’re basically crushing on him since freshman year.”

[1:55 pm] you: “Who said I was crushing on him? I’m in love!”

[1:56 pm]  assjeon: “You? In love? Who are you kidding? The party will start at 7 pm, so I’ll pick you up later.” 

[1:57 pm] you: “Okay, dad, I got it.”

Good thing his message wasn’t that bad and you really needed it. Jungkook was your best friend since high school, so he knows you well enough to judge if you’re in love or not. Of course, I was kidding but damn, who could ever resist THE Park Jimin? He’s a walking meal for Pete’s sake! His ass looks so good. Any girl would say yes when talking to him. You still had enough time before the pool party so you went to Starbucks to get your favorite drink and went home to take a nap in your flat. 

—

You closed your laptop after sending Ji-eun the list of equipment you researched earlier before leaving the group meeting. If Taehyung wasn’t being an asshole, you would’ve already finished working on it earlier. 

It was already 7 pm, and you noticed Jungkook already went inside your flat. He had an extra key in case of an emergency. You got up and picked up the two different bikinis in your bed.

“Which one should I wear? Black or red?” You tried to put the bikini over your oversized shirt and asked Jungkook to choose your bikini outfit for the party. 

“If you wanna seduce Jimin wearing a bikini, I think you should go for the red one. It will suit your curves well.” He said while sipping his iced coffee. He already saw you naked because of one accident wherein your towel accidentally dropped on the floor while the two of you were dancing to the beat of your favorite song. He was flustered, but then he started laughing, so you guessed he didn’t care about it. It happened about a year ago, so you don’t care about it now.

“Okay. I’m almost done. Go start the car now or something, I’ll head out after this.” You said while packing some extra clothes in your canvas bag. He nodded and left your flat after leaving his drink on the table. What a jerk, leaving his mess for me to clean up after. Am I his mom or something? 

  —

 The drive to Jimin’s house went smoothly because Jungkook was a safe driver. There were already many people and some of your mutual friends since you arrived a bit late when you went inside. 

“___! Here!” Ji-eun called for you. She was seated on a couch with a group of people who you’re not familiar with except one, Taehyung. He’s with his guy friends, Seokjin and Yoongi. Why was he here though? Oh right, he’s Jimin’s best friend, and he lives here too. How could you forget? Isn’t it ironic how you would want Jimin to fuck the shit out of me but hate the nerves of his best friend?

“Hey, Ji-eun! You’re here early. How did the meeting go earlier?” You sat beside her and across Taehyung. He was looking at your figure, and his face screamed in disgust or so you thought. You felt insulted. Most of the guys you’ve encountered admire you because they think you’re pretty and hot, but unfortunately, Taehyung isn’t one of them. You focused your attention on Ji-eun since she was responding to your question. 

“Oh God, don’t even talk about it. Taehyung ended the meeting after you left because he was pissed. Don’t worry about it. Let’s go dance!” pissed? Of course, he was pissed. You literally told him that one of your boys needed you while having a meeting. On second thought, he deserved it. He accused you of texting during the discussion where i fact you were focusing on your tasks.

You went to the crowd with Ji-eun to dance. The party was a blast. After a while, you bumped into Jungkook while he’s grinding his hips to the girl he’s dancing with. 

“That’s gross, Jeon.” You whispered to his ear before you continued dancing. “You’re just bitter because Jimin’s talking to a girl, which is not you.” He said and smirked.

 You stopped dancing and scanned your eyes across the room to look for your crush, but instead of him, you locked eyes with Taehyung, who was drinking his liquor on the other side of the room. He was looking at you intensely, and you thought it was hot. Damn, I must be crazy. If he weren’t annoying the shit out of you, you would totally have the hots for him. He smirked. You broke the staring contest first and rolled your eyes, continuing the search for your beloved Park Jimin. There he was, talking to the girl who pissed you off earlier, Jeongha. 

“Ji-eun, I’ll get a drink for myself. You can stay here,” you said, and she just nodded as approval.

Jeongha was obviously into him because she kept on touching Jimin’s arms. Disgusting. Siri, please play that should be me by Justin Bieber. You mentally rolled your eyes and walked over to them, bumping into her on purpose. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were there. By the way, I heard your boyfriend looking all over the place for you.” You said while smiling innocently. You knew this bitch doesn’t have a boyfriend but you lied so Jimin would stop talking to her.

“Bitch! I have no-” Jimin cut off her sentence. 

“Wait—you have a boyfriend, yet you still kept on flirting with me? Get lost, girl.” He said and pushed her away. You smiled secretly like an agent who completed her mission. Jeongha glared at you and walked away.

“So, ____, do you have a boyfriend?” You slightly jumped because you thought Jimin’s going to walk away too, but he didn’t, and he started a conversation between you two! He even knows your name! 

“I’m not really into relationships.” True enough, you weren’t interested in dating—just plain sex.

“That’s good to hear, babe. Let me get you a drink. What do you want?” He smirked. 

“Surprise me.” He winked at you and went to the kitchen to get you a drink. Someone grabbed your arm. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” It was Taehyung. He looked pissed. Why does he look pissed every time he’s talking to me? 

“Why do you care?” You asked him back and shot him a glare. 

“Of course, I care. One second you were grinding your ass with the guy in the dance floor, and now you’re flirting with my best friend!” Taehyung’s mind went ballistic. His mind tells him that he’s just jealous because he’s not the one you’re flirting with, but he’s in denial of his feelings for you. 

“Damn. He’s old enough to take care of himself, you moron. And for the record, the guy on the dance floor was my best friend. Stop annoying me and get out of my sight.” you hissed. Did he think I was flirting with Jungkook? I treat Kook like my twin, and now he’s telling me I was grinding my ass on him? Gross.

 “Oh, you two know each other?” Jimin handed you a red cup with some sort of alcohol in it. 

“No.” both of you answered at the same time. Jimin laughed and just shrugged it off.

“Tae, this is ___, and ___, this is Tae, my best friend.” the hell I care, I already know about that. You just smirked and drank every bit of alcohol you had in your cup. You forgot you had a low tolerance with alcohol. “I wanna go for a swim. Do you mind?” you told Jimin. 

“I’ll go with you. Come with us, Tae.” why did he even invite Taehyung to go with you? You wanted to leave because things are starting to get awkward. Didn’t he notice the tension?

You started walking towards the outdoor pool and placed your things on the sun lounger. The two guys began to take their shirt off, and you were staring at Tae’s abs. Before he start to notice you, you look away and focused on Jimin instead.

“Like what you see, baby?” he smirked. Damn, he’s hot, and he’s confident about it! Of course he should be. Look at all those girls on the side, drooling over his body. Taehyung dragged him to the side of the pool and pushed him. Both of you were laughing because of Jimin’s reaction. 

“Aren’t you going to swim?” Taehyung said and jumped to the pool, not waiting for your response. You forgot what you were supposed to do because you saw Taehyung’s back while he was jumping, and he looked so damn hot. 

“Damn, I must be drunk,” you whispered to yourself. The water splashing to your legs made you shiver. It was cold. 

“What are you waiting for, kitten?” you didn’t hear the last word he said but you saw his lips while saying the word. kitten? What the hell, Taehyung? You slowly take off your oversized tee and shorts, attracting the attention of two men and other people who were near you, revealing your red bikini and your curves. “Damn,” Taehyung thought. Jimin whistled while eyeing you up and down and forced you to jump to his side. 

 After jumping, you rose and felt someone holding your waist. It was Jimin. He pulled you closer and went for a kiss. ”Is this okay?” He asked in between kisses. You responded by placing your arms on his neck and kissing him deeper. Jimin’s fingers slowly traced the inside of your thigh as they slowly traveled up the soft skin. A shiver went down your spine as you realized what was happening.” Jimin,” you said breathily, trying to close your legs. 

He merely tsked and pried your legs apart with his strong hands. “I know you want it, baby,” he whispered in your ear. Your head was thrown back as he reached his destination, slowly pushing a finger inside you. You look over Jimin’s shoulder and saw Taehyung’s back leaving the pool. Guilt suddenly washed over your face as you realized the both of you were with Taehyung, and you were in public. 

 “Wait, stop,” you said, holding Jimin’s arm while he was starting to thrust his fingers in and out of you. “What’s the matter, babe? Don’t you like it?” he asked. You liked it, but it felt wrong. “We’re in public, Chim. Maybe I should go swim for a bit.” he was flustered, but he didn’t stop you. He nodded,” Okay then. I’ll just go for a drink.”

You went over to the other side of the pool and observed the people surrounding you. They were busy and having fun enough for them not to notice what you were doing with Jimin. You’ve always wanted Jimin to notice and touch you, but right now, you feel like something’s wrong. 

You got out of the pool and caught some guys looking at your ass. Jungkook was walking towards you and when he got near you, he helped you put on a robe.

“What’s up? Jimin told me to give this to you. He didn’t look that happy.” he said while drinking from a bottle.

“I don’t know, Kook. I just don’t feel like fucking right now.” he was surprised but he didn’t say anything. Who wouldn’t? Even you were surprised. Your main goal when you went to this party was to get laid. What changed your mind? Moreover, who? You didn’t care about how Jimin would feel because you knew there were plenty of girls he could screw over. Besides, this is his party. 

That’s when everything got back to you. Kitten. That look in his eyes. Was it Taehyung? He left the pool without a word when he saw his best friend trying to finger-fuck you in the pool. Was he affected? Stupid, of course he’s not. He was just protective of his best friend because he said you were flirting with everyone and he obviously didn’t want his friend to get hurt. 

“Do you want to go home?” Jungkook said while clinging into your arms like a baby. “Let me go otherwise, you’ll get wet. And yes, I’ll go home. You can just stay here and look for girls to screw.” you said, grabbing your clothes from the chair beside the pool. “You sure?” he asked, and you nodded. “Alright, should I inform everyone that the queen is leaving the party?” he laughed out loud, making some heads look over the both of you, while you smacked his head, smiling.

You went to look for the bathroom on the second floor of the house because the first-floor bathroom was taken by some people making out. To your surprise, someone grabbed you and pushed you inside a room.

“What the hell?!” to stop you from screaming, he covered your mouth with his lips. His scent was very familiar, but you didn’t respond to the kiss. He stopped when he realized you weren’t going to react and rested his forehead against your shoulder. The room was dark, and only the moonlight from the window was the light source, so you can’t see anything but his silhouette. No way.

“Taehyung?” he didn’t respond. You were starting to feel butterflies in your stomach. The only person ever who made you feel like this. Crap. Why is he doing this? Were my thoughts earlier real? Was he really jealous? 

“Stop making me feel like shit, ____,” he said in a husky voice. He smelled and tasted like alcohol, so you figured that he was somewhat drunk. “What d-do you mean?” you responded. He moved his face away from you.

“It’s nothing. J-just leave me alone.” did you hear him right? leave him alone? “You basically dragged me into this room, kissed me, and now you’re asking me to leave? Who do you think you are?” he’s such a jerk! He didn’t answer your question but instead, he pulled you closer for a hug. You felt stiff, and you can’t even push him away. He’s making you mad, at the same time, driving you crazy. 

“I-I,” he sighs knowingly. 

“You’re what? Do you think this is some kind of a game?” you slightly pushed him to break the hug. “You treat me like shit whenever you get the chance, and now you act like a jealous boyfriend? What game are you playi—”  

“I like you!” He cut you off.

There was a moment of silence.

“You l-like me?” wow. I’m lost for words. All he did was get on my nerves, and now he’s confessing his feelings for me? “I liked you ever since. I was jealous because all you do was entertain and date guys that aren’t me! What do they have that I don’t?”

You honestly don’t know what to respond to him. You feel so overwhelmed. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing went out of it. Taehyung looked rejected and was about to leave when you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. It’s all or nothing.

“I kind of like you too, Tae.” and with that, he took off your robe and placed his big hands on your ass to carry you without breaking the kiss. He pinned you to the wall and started kissing your jaw down to your neck, leaving soft marks on it. Small whimpers went out of your mouth as your core clenched around nothing when you felt his erection poking your stomach. 

“Tae,” you heavily breathe as he continues to kiss down your collarbone. 

“Tae, please,”

“Please, what, kitten? What do you want?” he said, slowly dropping you back on your feet. “I need you,” you moaned as he slid his finger down your bikini top and cleavage down to your stomach. You helped him by removing the bikini effortlessly. He sucked your left mound while playing with the other one. An arousal-laced gasp falls from your lips as his hands drop to your inner thighs. 

 “Do you think you deserve me? After letting my best friend kiss and touch you like that? With me around?” his fingers hook under the fabric of your underwear, and he quickly slides them down your thighs.

“I’m sorry, please, I won’t do it again. I want you now, Tae.” 

“Will you be a good girl for me?” you nodded. “I need to hear you say it, kitten.” he looked at you before slowly kneeling so he can be eye to eye level with your pussy.

“Yes, daddy. I’ll be a good girl.”

After a swift glance up at your eyes, he leans between your thighs and drags his warm tongue against your clit. The feeling is almost like heaven on earth. His lips are soft, but sinful against your cunt. It’s not every day you receive oral sex this good, especially not from your oh-so-called-enemy. Taehyung’s right-hand finds comfort gripping your hip while his left-hand cups the flesh of your inner thigh. He lifts your leg to give him a better access for his tongue to enter you. 

“Can other guys eat you out and pleasure you like this? Hmm?” he said and continued what he’s doing. 

“No, baby. No one is as good as you. Fuck, I’m close.” 

You encourage yourself to be vocal to let Taehyung know that he’s making you feel great. When his tongue glides over the perfect area, you tighten your grip on his hair and emit a soft but loud moan. He’s listening to your vocals and then skillfully dragging his tongue against your most sensitive areas. You looked down at him and saw his erection. It looks painful.

You can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this. Even more intriguing to you, who taught him this. As his palms run along your soft skin, you notice the texture of his hands, slightly calloused and large, too. If he wanted to, he could probably crush you. All this daydreaming has you accelerating closer to your climax, so you quickly tug on his hair and pull away from his mouth. His lips and chin are slick with your arousal. 

You make it your next move to crawl onto the bed. As you turn to face him, he crashes his lips against yours and guides your almost-bare back to his sheets. The smell of his manly perfume floods your senses. Your tongues greet each other with passion, and the pure intensity of the kiss has you hot and unbothered. He breaks the kiss for a brief moment to tug his shirt over his head and pulls his jeans down along with his boxers. His muscles are well-defined and flex as he leans over to kiss you.

You’re both aware you need to prepare before taking his cock; otherwise, it’ll split you in half. He sank a single finger on your pussy, and you moaned loud enough for him to hear. 

“I bet Jimin didn’t even make you feel like this, huh. You’re such a slut. This cunt is fucking mine now, you hear me?”

His knuckle stimulates your clit as he gently fucks you with his digit. You wrap your thighs around his torso as he adds another finger. There’s a slight warmth from the stretch, but the pleasure almost drowns it out.

“All yours, Tae. Please, just fuck me already,” you playfully grin.

He got up and went to get something out of his wallet. He rolled the condom over his dick and slowly stroked it up and down. Damn, he looks so fucking hot. “Are you ready for me, baby?” you nodded. He’s so big. Will that even fit?

He wastes no more time. With a swift adjustment of his body, he positions his cock against your entrance and slowly sinks inch by inch. You dig your nails into the flesh of his back and emit a strangled moan. 

He sighs at the feeling. “God, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Oh, my fucking..” You gasped. ”T-taehyung.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t reach any deeper, he pushed back your thigh and sank deeper. You pulled his chest against yours and rolled your hips, signaling him to start his sinful movements. His thrust had your back arching and your thighs shaking like never before. 

As you go in for another kiss, you take his tongue between your teeth and suck on the muscle, emitting a startled moan from his throat. His hips stutter slightly at the foreign gesture. He grips the headboard as he fucks you with all his might. He’s been dreaming about this moment since the dawn of time, so he’s going to make the most of it. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. He’s hitting deep and in all the right areas. 

A deep moan falls from his lips, and then another. He can’t seem to contain himself, but you’d be a fool to complain. His shaky breath and pretty moans are drawing you closer to your orgasm. 

A few more strokes of his hips and you’re moaning loud enough and coming around his cock. He follows closely behind, holding the entirety of his length inside of you and reaching his climax. The pressure is unbearably pleasurable. 

He lay down beside you as the both of you continued panting. “Did I do great, kitten?” he said as he made you turn to him and pulled you closer, kissing the top of your forehead. “Yes, Tae. The best sex I’ve ever had.” you grinned and cuddled him. You can’t believe that the guy who you thought hates you made love with you.

 —

 The sunlight woke you up from your deep sleep. You glanced over and realized you were not in your room. It’s a manly room. You guessed it was Tae’s. Oh, right. Memories from last night clouded your mind, and you blushed. Taehyung was not inside the room, so you figured he’s already downstairs. You checked your phone on the table beside the bed and saw two missed calls and three messages from Jungkook.

 [11:23 pm] assjeon: Hey, where are you? Did you get home safely? 

[12:02 am] assjeon: Bitch, reply asap. Are you home? 

[8:09 am] assjeon: Fucking ____. I swear I will kill you if you hurt yourself or whatever you stupid bitch.

His messages made you laugh. He’s acting like a mad brother. The latest text from him was just twenty minutes ago. You called him, and he answered right after.

 assjeon: where the hell are you, and why didn’t you go home last night?!

you: chill, dude. I’m still here where you left me.

assjeon: by that, do you mean you’re still in Chim’s house?

you: well, obviously. 

assjeon: thought you wanted to go home because you weren’t in the mood for sex last night. What happened?

you: well, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time, kook. Have to go!

assjeon: you better do! Take care of yourself. Love you!

you: love you too.

Call ended.

“We had sex last night, and the first thing you do in the morning is call another guy?” you stopped scrolling through your phone and looked up. Taehyung was standing there while holding a glass of milk. Cute, you thought. 

“Good morning to you, too. Are you jealous of Jeon? He’s basically like a brother to me! Thank you for the milk.” you said, smiling and walking towards him to reach the glass of milk. You noticed you were wearing your undies and an oversized shirt. Taehyung dressed you up while you were sleeping, and you felt those butterflies in your stomach again. 

He held your waist and pulled you closer so he could leave a kiss on your forehead, and you giggled. “I’m not jealous of him. Just the attention you’re giving him. Good morning, baby girl.” 

You gave him a peck on his lips. What a great way to start the morning. 

End.

a/n: Thank you for reading my first work ever. Do you want a part 2? 

taglist: @strwberryvmin​ @bonnyskies​ @hannahmaehudgins​ @adoringinsanity​

[hot-wiings]

Messed the time line up. Shouto is younger, and Natsuo is older, than they actually are. 

Edited: 12-30-2020

To this day I still miss and miss you. To this day I'm still encircled by the memories of us together. Had I caught you that day, no, had I stopped you that day. To this day would we still be friends? How would it be? Dear, my friend, how have you been? I'm doing great, you know, yeah. Dear my friend, I'll be honest. I still freaking hate you. Even now I remember the past days we were together. The time and countless days we went to Daegu together.

You exited your school, parents and other junior high graduates filing around you as you moved from the cool conditioned gym into the hot outdoor summer air. You walked down the steps, quickening your pace as you saw the back of an orange head, the head of your best friend, Touya Todoroki. You nearly tripped on the pretty dress your mom made you wear for the occasion as you reached him but he grabbed onto you and firmly held onto your arm and shoulder until he felt you were stable enough to stand on your own.

“Be careful, you're so clumsy.” 

“I am not.”

He wasn't making fun of you, you knew this as you saw his smile. He was teasing you the way he did your entire friendship since you were kids, but you still felt the need to defend yourself as people exiting the school looked your way. 

“How’s it feel to be a middle school graduate?”

“It feels great!” 

Touya walked with you away from the school towards the parking lot where your parents were waiting for you both. You hoped your mother had the car on and running with the AC, you weren't sure you'd last another minute in this heat. 

“Are you still planning on applying to UA?”

“Yes. My moms not exactly on board with it. She thinks I should go for something practical, apparently ‘the world has enough heroes already.”

You bit your lip and looked at the ground as your mind replayed that day with your mother. You left out the harsher details to Touya. Your mother had threw out all your applications to any hero schools she could find in your bedroom with the simple statement that you that you weren't cut out for the hero life. She and your father didn't believe in you, but that just motivated you to work harder. 

“Are you still applying to UA?”

“My father- Yeah, I am. We have to go to the same high school or else I’d miss you.” 

Touya and you had reached your car which thankfully was on. Your father gave you and Touya a curt nod from inside the car while your mother smiled at you both from where she was outside the vehicle, leaning against the door waiting for you. 

“Are you coming with us Touya?”

Touya was hesitant as he looked across the lot where his mother, sister and brothers sat in his fathers expensive car. His father wasn't there and you couldn't recall seeing him in the audience as you were given your middle school education credentials. Touya never talked with you about it so you didn't know the extant, but you knew his father didn't play an active role in his life. 

“No, I think my mom needs me home tonight.” 

“Okay, don’t be afraid to drop by the house soon. You could help [Y/N] send out some high school applications to some practical schools.” 

Your mother got in the car, leaving you to say goodbye to Touya. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her new attempt of saying you shouldn't be a hero.

“[Y/N], don’t worry about your high school application. With the two of us, the world is nothing scary.”

That was a long time ago. You and Touya slowly lost contact over the summer. You looked for him at the UA hero exams, but he wasn't there. Sometimes you had to wonder if you had just called, would things have turned out differently. 

‘With the two of us, the world is nothing scary’ we said, and now we walk two completely different paths, damn. Do you remember those days? Was it at Sinsa? The conversations we had over soju. The ambition we had of conquering the world. We were young and had big dreams, only twenty. Sudden cutting off contact. After a long while, after your parents' short call from an unknown number. I immediately ran there to check. Seoul Detention Center in Anyang was too far. 

You felt weird as you sat in a small black chair bolted to the ground. You felt weird as you looked across the big, clear, plastic panel separating you from him. You felt weird as you picked up the phone attached to the wall that connected to the look alike phone on Touya’s side of the panel. 

You hadn’t heard from Touya for a while after junior high graduation. Despite promising to stay in touch, you hadn’t. ‘With the two of us, the world is nothing scary’ what a joke, after junior high, you simply drifted apart from each other. You applied to UA, your dream school, and got in, but you had no clue to what Touya had chosen to do with his high school career, he had blocked you out of his life.

Truthfully, the drift between you wasn't one sided, you hadn't called him or tried making contact until after your first year at UA high had passed. Once you had tried to mend the gap, you couldn't, too much time had gone by. Contact had been lost for so long, your friendship fizzled. Even when you started interning for Touya’s father, Enji Todoroki, in your third year at UA high, you barely saw each other but rather his two younger brothers, one of which who Enji hoped to mold into a hero. 

You hadn't heard from Touya in ages. You hadn’t heard from him until you received a call from his younger brother, Natsuo Todoroki, asking you to come to Japan’s detention center in Hosu city. Despite it being two in the morning, the young mans voice sounded urgent and you couldn't possibly say no. 

“Why are you in here, Touya?”

“I fucked up. I fucked up bad.” 

“What happened Touya? I’ll try to fix it, your dad will try to fix it. I just need to know what happened.”

A moment of silence passes and you can tell Touya is hesitant to admit to you why he was in there, why someone had decided to put him behind bars.

“You can’t fix it [Y/N], my dad won’t fix it. He thinks I need to learn my lesson.” 

A red flashing light goes off above your plastic panel as well as a loud buzzer. A security guard comes over and informs Touya that his time with you is up, as he grabs onto Touya’s orange jumpsuit and pulls him away from his side of the plastic wall, all that can be hear is Touya yelling to you. 

“I wish we never lost contact.” 

You stood up from your chair, giving the next criminal and innocent time to talk. You walked out to the hall where you saw the younger Todoroki brother. The white, spiky haired male stood there waiting for you with a nervous look on his face.

“Thanks for calling me, Natsuo.”

“I thought you’d want to know, you used to be close.” 

“We were...”

Natsuo awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck, not sure of what to say in this situation. He wasn't sure if you needed comforting, or not, truthfully, Natsuo felt nervous around you. 

“Would you mind keep me in the loop about his trial?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you with any updates.”

Natsuo smiled at you, and you couldn't help but try to return it. You grew up knowing Natsuo as Touya’s kid brother, you grew up with him being the annoying kid who tried to follow his older brother and his best friend around, but in this smile you saw Natsuo as a friend.

To this day I still miss and miss you. To this day I'm still encircled by the memories of us together. Had I caught you that day. No, had I stopped you that day. To this day would we still be friends? How would it be? Was it you who changed? Or was it me? Uh.I hate this flowing time, it's us who changed. Hey, I hate you, hey, I don't like you. Hey, even as I say these words, I miss you. The visit to Seoul Detention Center every week. I went all alone on that three-hour-long trip. The day of your trial, the day of your release.

You showed up at Touya’s trail hearing, his words to you that day hit you hard. You couldn’t help but put blame on yourself. If you had kept contact with him. If you had just called him, stopped by, or even written an email.

As you sat in between Shouto and Natsuo Todoroki your leg bounced up and down nervously, you hadn’t even realized it until Natsuo had grabbed your hand which had been resting in your lap as a way to comfort you. With one small squeeze from your newfound friend, you felt more at ease. 

You knew the probability of Touya being found innocent was slim. you hadn’t spoken to any lawyers or read any official statements, but Natsuo had told you Touya had gotten into some dark shit, drugs and violence were included. He had fallen far since you both had loss contact. Here you were, a hero, a UA graduate, but your old friend was being interrogated on the stand. If you had just kept contact.

You squeezed Natsuo’s hand as you watched the jury pass down a white paper with their response to the judge. The judge unfolded it slowly and carefully read the words. With every passing moment your heart pounded harder. 

“The jury finds Mr. Todoroki guilty of drug possession, grand larceny, and the use of a false identity. Five years in prison, and one year probation.”

Without even letting him say his goodbyes, the authorities dragged Touya out of the courtroom, but the look Touya shot you was word enough. He looked upset, but who wouldn't be after being sentenced. Still holding your hand, Natsuo pulled you out of the courthouse and navigated you both through the crowds of people exiting. Reporters were waiting on the courthouse steps, waiting for a chance to bombard the Todoroki family in their dire time of family crisis. 

“Mr. Todoroki, is it true your brother was sentenced for murder?”

“No comment.”

Natsuo handled it well as he pulled you along with him to the Uber car he had called. The press could get so out of hand sometimes, his only concern was getting you and him away from them, he didn't even allow himself time to comprehend the bogus rumors being spread about his brother. 

Once you were in the car he let go of you hand and ran his fingers though his white hair stress-fully. Murder? The press was just one of the many reasons Natsuo had chosen to pursue college instead of a career in heroics. Between his father and the reporters, that life style just seemed bad. 

“Are you okay? The press can get crazy.”

“I’m alright. I’ve gotten quite used to the press since I’ve come to work for your fathers agency. A reporter once asked me if I was the number two hero’s affair woman.”

“Ha, reporters can be such jerks. They don’t even attempt to get the full story. They just assume.”

You were so consumed in each others presence, you’d forgotten about the dire circumstances of why you were together that day. Natsuo had that effect on you. He made you carefree and aloof. Forgetful of the bad things. 

A light pink hue dusted Natsuo’s cheeks as he realized how close you and him were sitting next to each other. He adverted his gaze down to his hands. He was a college student now, not some dumb kid trying to follow around his older brother. He was an adult, yet he didn't know how to go about with the feelings he developed for you over the years.

He was lucky to even have your friendship. You used to think of him as Touya’s annoying little brother, yet you had a blossoming friendship now, you shared your deepest secrets. He couldn't sit back on his feelings, he had to shoot his shot. He fiddled with his hands as he looked up at you and proposed his question. 

“Shouto and Fuyumi are riding home together, do you wanna stop and get coffee with me?”

You gave Natsuo a soft smile and grabbed one of his nervous, shaking hands. 

“I’d really like that.”

I remember vividly it was winter with heavy snow like white tofu. And after a long time not seeing, you became a completely different person. With drowsy eyes, you asked, ‘Don't you want to try?’ I got angry and cursed at you. There's no way the you who were my only friend can return, and you became a monster. The you I used to know is gone and the me you used to know is gone. I know it's not just because of time that we changed. The me you knew is gone and the you I knew is gone.

Five years had gone and went by quickly. While it was hard with his brother in prison, Natsuo had coped by throwing himself into college and his relationship with you. Between your work at his fathers hero agency, and random drop byes to his college dorm room, Natsuo saw you everyday. He knew he loved you, you even had Endeavors stamp of approval, not that he wanted or felt he needed it.

Natsuo was ecstatic that his brother was getting out today, but he was nervous. He had begged you to be there with him once his brother came home. Not that he had to beg much, you had promised to be there as soon as he mentioned his brothers release. 

Natsuo wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and leaned his head in the crook of your neck. Much like his other siblings, Natsuo wasn't one for skin-ship, but over the years of your relationship he learned to like it. He even yearned for it from you. 

“Do you think he’ll be excited to see me?”

You sat down the bag you had used to pipe icing on Touya’s cake and grabbed Natsuo’s hands that were wrapped around you. You could tell he was nervous, you could hear it in his voice. 

“I’m sure he misses you. You and Fuyumi.”

“I tried visiting him, but he always turned me away... Maybe he’s angry that I didn’t push our father harder to bail him out.”

“Oh, baby... he’s not mad at you. He wouldn't let me visit either. I think he just didn't want us to see him in such a bad place.”

Natsuo placed a kiss on the side of your head before pulling away. You put a cover on the cake and turned around. With a soft smile you leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

“Your brother loves and misses you, okay? I’m gonna wash up, don’t touch the cake.”

Natsuo pulls you back against him and presses his lips against your. It was chaste and quick, but it was enough to help calm him down his nerves. He was reverted back to the chill, aloof, Natsuo you knew and loved. 

“No promises.”

You hadn't been in the bathroom long, but so much could happen in ten minutes. By the time you came back, you had found your boyfriend lumped on the couch, a sad shell from his usual chill self.  

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

You sat down next to him and pulled his form against your side. You ran your fingers through his white tips, giving his scalp a nice massage. A calming technique you picked up over the course of your relationship. 

“Touya’s home. He went right up to his old room. He said he didn't want to see any of us. He didn't want to see me.” 

Natsuo’s words made Touya’s look nice. During his time in prison, Touya changed. He became a colder, meaner version of himself. The car ride home with his father didn't help. If it was up to Enji, he would've given his son a longer sentence. Touya hadn't meant to, but he took his aggression out on his younger brother. 

“I’m gonna try to get him to come down.”

“Don’t, just give him space.” 

“I want to talk to him... Besides, we put all that work in his cake, and he didn't even try it.”

His hand shot out and grabbed onto your wrist to stop you from leaving. He knew if you went up there you'd have words with him. You were to different now. You were on a straight and narrow track to becoming a great pro hero. His brother was on the dark and murky path of a criminal, that was a truth he didn't want to admit. He knew this, yet as you shot him a smile, that smile you gave the people you saved, that heroic smile he loved, he felt at ease. This was who you were, a hero. You had to confront Touya, and he couldn't prevent that. 

It wasn't long before you were on your feet and rushing to Touya’s old bedroom door. You hesitated before you knocked. This room was full of so many memories. Sleep overs and hangouts. You weren't sure you were prepared to see your old friend. 

You received no response to your knock so you barged right in. The room looked different from the last time you were in it in middle school, but it stayed the same from his duration at prison. 

“If I didn’t answer, than don’t come in.” 

Touya rolled over in his bed to face who ever came in uninvited. At first he was angry, upset. He just wanted to be alone. Five years in prison, separated from humanity was hard to cope with. It was difficult to readjust. When he saw you that anger dissipated. His dear old friend. He wished he never cut you out of his life. 

“[Y/N].”

“Touya.”

You finally got a good look at him after all these years. He’d indefinitely gotten more mussels in prison, but he was still relatively lanky. As you inspected him you noticed the blotchy, redness of his eyes.

“Are you high right now.”  

He was silent and avoided your eyes, but the way he looked and the smell was undeniable. Maybe it was the hero in you, but you felt furious as you watched him. 

“You just got back from prison and you're already getting baked? Drugs are what landed you in prison in the first place! Do you want to go back there?”

You weren't yelling, but scolding him. Still, Touya became agitated as you gave him a lecture. How could you sit there and judge him when you had been working for his father. The opposite of a hero. 

“You don’t get the right to lecture me about what I can do in the comfort of my home. Your just my fathers employee, a crappy old friend.” 

You were simply ready to deck him when Natsuo walked in and grabbed your hand to calm you. Though you weren't loud, he, Fuyumi, and Shouto could hear you all from the living room. Touya hated himself for what he said. You were more than that, so much more. He just kept misdirecting his anger.

“[Y/N] has every right to lecture you. She is my girlfriend, and she’s played a big role in our lives since you got put away. I don’t want you talking to her like that.”

Natsuo rarely argued with his elder brother. He looked up to the guy, he idolized him. This post prison Touya wasn't the man he looked up to. He wasn't the Touya he grew up with. 

“Aren’t you the least bit ashamed? I look up to you, Shouto looks up to you, Fuyumi looks up to you. Or at least we did. We don’t know you anymore, and quite frankly, I don’t want Shouto around you, he’s still an impressionable teenager.”

It's not just because of time that we changed and I feel so empty. To this day I still miss and miss you. To this day I'm still encircled by the memories of us together. Had I caught you that day. No, had I stopped you that day. To this day would we still be friends? How would it be? To this day I still miss and miss you. To this day I'm still encircled by the memories of us together. Had I caught you that day. No, had I stopped you that day. To this day would we still be friends? How would it be? How would it be?

Touya hadn't talked to his brothers in weeks, despite being free to roam about in the world with the liberty to go anywhere he wants. Natsuo stayed true to his word of not wanting Shouto around him. Shouto stayed at the dorms, and on the weekends he stayed with you and Natsuo at your apartment. Endeavor didn't really care where Shouto was as long as he showed up at the training sessions.  

Natsuo really had to grow up and act as a parent when Touya went away. Heaven knows Enji wasn't a real parent. 

While he hadn't talked to his brothers, that didn't mean he hadn't seen them. Touya got bored of being in the house, and had rather not be there when Enji was around. He took a walk in the park, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn't known you'd be there on a picnic. 

He stayed off to the side where you and Natsuo couldn't see him. It killed him to watch you. You were so happy with Natsuo. You were so happy with his brother. The way you laughed and kissed. How he fed you and hugged you from behind. You were so domestic together, so content. 

He wanted that to be him. He always dreamed that he would grow up to be a hero, to be a hero with you. One day you’d date. One day you’d get married. His father discouraged him, he said he wasn't cut out to be a hero, so he listened. Touya felt he wasn't good enough so he cut you out of his life. But he was wrong, he was so wrong, you made him better. It was too late now, he fucked up and went to jail, he left his siblings to clean up after him, and you were in the loving arms of his brother. He was nothing but a criminal. 

Touya didn't have anyone now. He pushed everyone away. he was a criminal, a problem child, a villain. Everything the news made him out to be. He was all alone, and he blamed Endeavor. Maybe that’s why when the Hero Killer video came out he felt compelled to follow him.

“Dear my friend, I'm sorry to let you down. I’m sorry I wasn't good enough.”

Touya hated himself for pushing you away. He hated himself for leaving his siblings alone. More so, he hated Endeavor for pushing him to believe that he wasn't worth your while, that he wasn't worthy of being a hero. He hated Endeavor, and he would get revenge.

“Dear my friend, I’m sorry for leaving, but you'll be happy with him.”

It took years for Touya to push everyone away, but it took seconds for Dabi to light his room on fire. It took years to build up his hatred and anger for his father, but it seconds for Dabi to slip out the door and claim a new life for Touya.

[artificialqueens]

A Series Of Mutual Feelings, 1/3 (Scarjah) - Pazinae

chapter 1: i hate u (and the feelings mutual)

Chapter Summary: Ra'jah is determined to have a fresh start and be a better person, now enrolled as a first year fashion school student- but Scarlet has a way of always making her newfound plans falter. With a rocky high school history, the (not so) fortuitous pair endure some mutual hatred

A/N: enemies 2 luvers scarjah everyone xoxo meant to be a oneshot, but got a little carried away n my doc for this is currently 19 pages long ahaha so to be more palatable it will be a 4 chapter story (its says 3, but you'll see). this one is mainly the intro for the story to understand where they're at emotionally in the present, and is mostly ra'jah centric on her growth + kylie friendship fluff bc theyre the cutest, and a bit of scarlet pov. feedback super super welcome, enjoy !!! 

***

Scarlet strode down the hall with a sway in her hips, her heels clacking on the laminate floor. What kind of tacky ass bitch wears heels to school anyways? Ra'jah scoffed internally, watched the girl saunter like she's on a tightrope, each tantalizing step brought her foot exactly in front of the other. Her body fell into a rhythm, stomping the fucking campus like a lion stalking the jungle for the sheer fun of watching it’s prey scamper. Scarlet's bouncing skirt, her signature grin and luscious ginger curls sprouting out her scalp made her gag. And not in the stunning way. Just as quickly as she came she was gone, and, to be fair, she was just another girl sandwiched in the masses just getting to where she’s going. But she could pluck that arrogant little redhead bitch out of any crowd. Not a conscious choice of course, hell, being reminded of her sheer presence causes a battle of trying not to roll her eyes behind her skull. She can't help that she sees her. Not when Scarlet's lips are painted the same shade of bold crimson as the tight, sleeveless top she's wearing, like a fresh drop of blood in a sea of grey clad bodies swimming around in their hoodies.

This isn't high school anymore Ra'jah. A repetitive reminder that needs to be said evermore until it's understood at her core. Because It's different now, she knows that- it has to be. No fucking way are her dreams going to get caught up in everything again, they're too big to be put at stake. She can't live just to be like that again, and this time she's too grown to waste her time on useless people. High school was a bubble, a 4 year trance that she's left and is more than ready to forget about. 

"Hey, Ra'jah!" That southern, velvety voice could only belong to one stunning woman. She turned around to spot her speed walking to catch up. 

"Aye! Kylie!" Ra'jah stopped and gave a little wave as Kylie approached, her highlight shining even in the shitty indoor light. The two moved over to the side of the hall, and leaned against the wall. "If it isn't Miss Kylie Sonique Love," With such a pleasing name, Ra'jah doesn't think she will, or, really can ever get tired of saying the other girl's name. "What's up?"

"Nothin', just tired as fuck," It's kinda cute, the way her accent gets stronger when she's grumpy. "I'mma pass out at some point, I did not get enough sleep." Even as a grumble her voice is so soft and angelic, Ra'jah could probably fall asleep to the blonde reading true crime murder stories. 

"Goddamn, it sure as hell doesn't show!" Which is true, Kylie was as effervescent as always, any visible messy hair from under her beanie looked intentional. Even in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, there was an undeniable, captivating charm about her that made it impossible for her to look bad "You look gorgeous girl" 

"Awh, thanks honey," She smiles a soft, hazy smile. "You don't look too bad yourself." She hums, eyeing her up with a grin. Before she could even argue a response, the country girl quickly perks up and slaps her hand on Ra'jah's shoulder in excitement. "Oh also! I want your opinion- I'm thinking about dying my hair pink." She can see the visible sparkle in the pair of eyes looking at hers. "Thoughts?" She asks, voice becoming giddy "Oooh bitch! You better, that'd be so fierce!" The (mostly) purple haired girl exclaimed, delight evident in her voice "For real, you'd look so good. And you know, ba-BY" she claps her hands together just for added emphasis, "I support ALL the impulsive hair decisions".

"Yess, obviously I want input only from bad bitches with the best hair"

"I told you I did these myself right?" she asked, running her shoulder length hair through her twirling fingers. "I've been really into doing hair recently"

"Wait, really? It looks so pretty, the fade to purple is so good"

"What'd you mean 'wait really' hoe, what you implying 'bout my hair skills?" 

"Just that a talented woman like you should share your expertise!" Even when she was loud her voice was just as comforting, the tone reminiscent of a silk blanket on her skin

"All it took for me was bleach, a bottle of violet Arctic Fox dye, and the holy spirit of Brad Mondo"

"First of all I'm not trusting no mans named Brad," Ra'jah cackled a little because, yeah that's fair. "And secondly, if you're free, come an' help a girl out then!

"You're inviting me over? Wow we're moving kinda fast Kylie" 

"Oh shut up bitch" but the undying twinkle in her eye confirmed the unsaid agreement that Ra'jah would be doing Kylie's hair, at some point.

"I'm free on Thursday, can I visit then?"

"Yea that works" She smiled, and the closeness between the two wasn't something the taller girl ever planned, or really felt before. But she had it now, a friend she really cares about, and she never wanted to lose it.

"Shit what time is it?" Even in her Shitty Human era she was still a timely gal, her mother didn't raise no late hoe. "Don't stress it Raj, we have like 15 minutes. Introduction to drafting and sewing, right?"

"Yes ma'am. Wanna start going?" "Sure thing" This year is for a new start, making new friends, and getting a chance to create new first impressions. Rebrand herself y'know, and the hindrance that is Scarlet's existence, wrapped in all the ancient things she'd rather not think about, won't stop her.

The walk to class was a pleasant blur. With Kylie yawning and walking essentially shoulder to shoulder with Ra'jah had they been the same height, they slipped into both  comfortable conversation, and silence. With all the noise around them, their presence brought an ease without any awkwardness. 

 A trek opted through the outdoor route that was albeit a tad longer, provided some well needed greenery and fresh air.

"You excited for class?" Ra'jah asked, only half aware of where she was walking to. Her body was on autopilot, and Kylie knows the way, probably.  

"You're amazing if you can get excited by class"

"It's fun!"

"Only 'cause you're good at it"

"You're good at it"

"You know what I mean. Isn't this one your favorite?" 

"It's not my favorite" 

"Uh huh"

"I just like it a lot. Maybee essentially jus' cause I don't hafta try" It was a mandatory course, but Ra'jah's not complaining. Perhaps it's a little vain to enjoy something just to remind everyone you can do it, but it was an easy break from the rest of the courses. And a nice little egoboost.

"So I'm right!" 

"C'mon it's October and we're still on basic techniques"

"It's called introductory," She remarked. "Do you even pay attention half the time?"

"No but bitch neither do you"

"True" Kylie grinned in agreement.

"The way you're coming for me but it's easy for you too!" She hasn't been sewing as long as Ra'jah, but she has great taste so it really balanced out. "And let it be known that I use that class time to think about incredibly productive things"

"Oh that's her name?"

"What?" She didn't mean for her tone to drop. Didn't mean for her legs to stop walking, planting themselves into the cement. Didn't mean for the smile on her face to plummet at the implication. Her visceral reaction was louder than the cluelessness she gave off.  

"Calm down" She giggled, as if Ra'jah's reaction woke her up from her grogginess, her breathlessness equivalent to a shot of espresso for Kylie. "You just seem really occupied sometimes is what I meant"

"Me? No I'm not" She couldn't convince herself.

"Okay babe. The models of your fashion sketches just look a little reminiscent"  

"You know Scarlet isn't the only person with ginger hair right?" Ra'jah bites back, the condescending tone not her intention, but not exactly unwanted in the moment. Scarlet is insufferable, she doesn't want her own name slandered is all, being associated with the arrogant shit.

"Baby, I ain't mention Scarlet. That's all you.'' She had a shit eating smirk and maybe Ra'jah takes everything back about how nice friends are. IF there was inspiration, Scarlet is objectively nice looking so it's not a big deal there might be similarities if you squint.  

"She was implied" 

"If you want her to be"

They get inside and take a seat at one of the large tables, divided into stations with a sewing machine and some material at each one. Ra'jah takes a spot at the edge, with Kylie seated to her right. 

 On paper, it's all been planned out for Ra'jah; during her strolls between classes she'll take in all her surroundings and actively look for inspiration, pondering all the natural shapes and patterns of the world in a way she can manipulate into clothing. On paper, she'll make the most out of the introductory class, sketching designs between the minimal notes and sewing practices. On paper, she'll finish the mornings class with ease and have extra time to practice some new things. 

In reality? Paper is flimsy, especially when its accountability is held by a fleeting mind. It's hard to bask in the world when unwanted questions plague her head. Mostly revolving around a certain redhead. God, fuck her. Fuck her pretty eyes and fuck her sculpted face and fuck her euphonious voice. Does everyone who sees Ra'jah see her patheticness? How she allowed some cunt to infiltrate her mind, set up home in her head and take up all the space? Let her infect every cell in the brain like a parasite until her skull is nothing but an infiltrated shell for an infestation caught up with infatuation?

"Ra'jah, you good?"  The girl sat across from her, Trinity, piped up, and Ra'jah had to bite back a smile. The icy, timid girl she met just a few weeks ago was starting the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You just looked a little spaced out" 

"Nah, it's just that this class is a breeze an' I'm just thinking about a project for another class" 

"Mmm"

"Plus it's hard to just think of designs when there's no inspiration"

"I mean, we're supposed to practice gathering and making ruffles right now"

"Oh shit! We are?"

"Yeah girl!" Ra'jah, shaking her head at herself, finally picked up some of the fabric around her and got to work. "You'll be alright?"

"Oh don't worry about me! I'm all good"

"Okayyy if you need anything just yell" Ra'jah replied with a hum and a nod. Watching the girl running the fabric under the machine, memories of the first time they'd talked flashed, days of the nearly silent girl feeling so distant.

  "I really like your earrings" The girl raised her head, looking left and right a little as if making sure it was directed at her. 

"Thanks." She mumbled, vaguely looking at Ra'jah's direction. 

"If you don't mind, where'd you get them?"

"Uh, I thrifted it."

"Oh, cool" Ra'jah smiled, before quickly adding "Thanks". The raven haired girl didn't reply. The start of the intriguing game of 'does she hate me, is she shy, or both?' 

   After all the awkward attempts made for the quiet girl to be comfortable and maybe make a friend, a sense of pride rang through her. She met Kylie and Trinity here a mere month ago, and yeah, maybe she could be nice. She could walk the fineline of warm socialization without being annoying. The new Ra'jah doesn't do unnecessary mean quips just for the sake of a little power rush. She can be authentically her while being polite. New Ra'jah makes friends- not enemies. 

"Oh by the way" Ra'jah snapped her head up at Trinity's voice 

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I know it's a little random but do you know what you're gonna be for Halloween?"

"Huh. Well, I haven't really thought about it" Ra'jah remarked, "I just don't care for Halloween and all that"

"Really? Girl, you're not gonna do anything, dress up, go out, nothing?"

"Baby all that work and money for some costume I'll wear once? No ma'am- and the fuck will I do, I barely have ideas for school!"

"Hey, you could wear anything and it's a costume. Wear a black dress, you're a cat"

"You think I'm that basic?"

"Yeah?"

 "Fuck you" She snorted, and Trinity had a goofy smile, looking at Ra'jah with a sense of familiar fondness. "And thanks, really, but I don't care for all that spooky shit anyways"

"Damn, alright!" Teeth out and all, she laughed. The blonde on the right leaned in a little, a pleasant opposition of Trinity's hesitation is Kylie's eagerness

"Jesus Ra'jah, what did Halloween do to you?" The southern girl butts in. "You could dress as the grinch of Halloween, steal children's candy" 

"You know what, yeah, I'll be a sluttified grinch"

"You're kinda built the same already" Trinity joins with a grin

"Hey!"

"Sluttified? Are you implying the grinch isn't sexy enough?" Ra'jah choked a little at that, found herself smiling with some dopey content, at what exactly she's not sure. 

"Do ya'll think being the grinch would count as like, being a furry?" Trinity asked, voice dripping in an odd amount of seriousness. 

"What? Baby no" Kylie jumped in. "Yes! absolutely, how would it NOT?" Trinity argues, and maybe it's the easiness of everything.  Of how nice it is to just fall into banter when you let people in. Bouncing off the two girls, she doesn't need to think of how to be funny, how to one up herself, remind everyone of why she's worthy. She can just, be. And that warrants a smile. 

With Ra'jah's elbow propped on the table, she rested her cheek against her palm to face forward, before turning a little to face Trinity

"But why do ya ask Trin? About Halloween"

"Oh, kinda last minute but I just want some ideas to figure mine out" She shrugs, and Kylie leans over once more. It's a little heartwarming, how physically close she always instinctively wants to be. 

"Oh! Are you going to the Halloween party this weekend?"

"Nah parties aren't really my thing"

"Awh, but it'll be fun!"

"Yeah standing in a mass of people I won't talk to will be so fun"

"Fine- Ra'jah, are you goin'?" Rajah turns her head to follow the voices like a cat keeping up with a beam of light. 

"Uh..."

"RIGHT, forgot, Halloween's not your thing". A party where she can have a disguise, let loose and have fun. It feels almost embarrassing to admit to her newfound friends that she's never been to a party, and the thought of a Halloween party didn't even cross her mind. Maybe Halloween isn't not her thing, it's just not something she'd indulge in. For reasons. Like, schoolwork. 

"Welllllll…" Ra'jah hummed, dragging on with a small grin

"OH the prospect of partying changes things huh?" 

"You know, me an' Halloween, we complicated okay!" They laugh, but Ra'jah's left thinking. New or old Ra'jah both, spends a little too much time in the internal realm of the brain. 

The class falls silent except the murmurs of the buzzing machines, and the three chatter in whispers. Although usually it's mostly her and Kylie with occasional injections of confirmation from Trinity

"You're insane if you think spaghettini is better than fettuccine" Kylie protested "Spaghettini is literally the objective worst"

"Says who?!" Ra'jah paused sewing to look up at Kylie in defiance

"Me!"

"Trinity which is better" 

"Huh? Ya'll It's too early for this." Trinity complained.

"Oh, says the bitch who asked if the grinch was a furry" Ra'jah retorted, but Trinity brushed her off to look at Kylie "Oh wait! Also, Kylie, what're you gonna be for Halloween?" She gave a little snicker before answering 

"Don't come for me but honestly? Was thinking about being a cat" 

"AAAAAH!" Ra'jah and Trinity erupted laughing.

"But like, a hot one okay!" Ra'jah quickly tried to redeem herself.

"You'll be the hottest ass cat around" Plus, worse comes to worst, Ra'jah will be a witch or something, and they can be hot and basic together. 

When the class ended, they packed their things, and exchanged their goodbyes

"I'll see y'all around!"

"See you! Good luck on your textile project Trin" 

"Thanks!" She waved, yelling a final "Bye!" 

"Bye!" The three part, and Ra'jah makes her way to her second class. History of costume and design was next, and quickly weighing it out, she decided to take a quicker path through the halls. Suddenly, the weight of a body knocked at her side, the two stumbling around for a few seconds. A gust of papers had fallen from both parties' arms, and landed on the floor.

"Oh shit! I'm so-" Scarlet cuts herself off when she looks up at whom she's bumped into.

"Maybe watch where you're going" Ra'jah snorts out of sheer instinct, squatting down to gather her papers where Scarlet follows suit, just a little too close. The vague, sweet scent of strawberries she gives off is suffocating.

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck up cunt taking up half the hallway I wouldn't hit you" The attention sends a masochistic jolt down her spine

"Uh oh someone's in a bad mood. Stuck up cunt that's a new one! Love the creativity. You should drop out of this school and be a writer" As much as she screamed internally to just shut the fuck up and get your things, it was so easy to slip back to this.

"Thanks but I'm good! When you fail out this year you can give it a try"

"Baby, me? Fail out?" Please don't imply that. Please don't make me doubt that I can and deserve to be here. I don't want to seek approval from others, but I can't help but be hurt at disapproval. Of course, her thoughts don't verbalize as the words that come out of her mouth. "That's a lot of talk for a girl who probably spends more hours getting fucked than studying" Before she can think it through, process the flash of hurt on her face and the way her fingers tense around the last piece of paper, before Ra'jah can really understand the weight of her own words she continues. "But I guess that's how you get yo' A's right?"

Their exchanges were in aggressive whispers, hushed to anyone above them. To most people, they'd find a sight of two girls muttering to one another while they pick up some things they've dropped.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet" Scarlet huffed, standing up in one swift motion. Those words aren't a compliment. Like, at all. So why does Ra'jah's dumb, twisted heart stop for a second? The implied connection of herself and 'pretty' slows her body and slurs her mind until she's pushing herself up off the ground in slow motion. It's been so many months of mundanity, the small interaction felt all so familiar and foreign and exciting at the same time.But the haziness of her words and their little games makes her forget for a second of what the fuck just happened, and a wave of patheticness washed over her as she started to walk, eyes focused at the cream walls. For all her hemming and hawing, Ra'jah hasn't. Fucking. Changed. 

A rush of everything dives into her guts, a sick adrenaline coated in dread, self loathing and the slight urge to cry, nestling in her stomach like a bird claiming a branch as it's home. Her skin was electric, and she hated to admit she loved it, the thrill of interacting with her, cattiness and all. Imagine feeling this much from fucking bumping into someone? Fingers clenched, nails digging in her own palms at how much she hates her. Intense emotions are a high of their own, and Ra'jah can't help but indulge. The piercing sting of her flesh being pressed in with her nails is intensified as she listens for the faint voice of that lanky girl always accompanying Scarlet. 

"You good Scarlet?"

"Yeah, thanks" She can't look back, but she can't help but wonder- are they hugging? Holding hands? It doesn't- it shouldn't matter to her. The fun amusement pales in comparison to the misery settling in. The realization that she's fighting with Scarlet like they're 16 at the back of English class.

Of all the schools, why'd that girl have to come here? Of all the things to pursue, why the same as herself? Of all the people, why'd it have to be her? Ra'jah didn't have the audacity to explore the last question. What she means, she's not too sure. The only thing in the world she's sure of is that she can't be both New Ra'jah™ and Old Ra'jah™ to different people. The line between the two existences isn't so bold anymore, and painting over the bumps isn't as effective as she'd hoped. 

  ***

  Truth be told, watching herself move around in skirts was one of her favorite things- just about tied with watching others watch her. Maybe that's why she joined cheer in highschool. Especially with the support from (or, lack of thereof) a certain grimacing purple haired girl, a runaway model from a fashion show who wound up wandering this school. She never needed to turn and look, didn't need sight to know there's a burn at her back, nor who it's radiating from. Scarlet always walked with just a bit of a straighter back, just a bit more purpose, and just a bit more stride in her step when her favorite pair of wandering eyes were around. A small part of her always wants to turn around, catch her gaze and watch her frantically look away and pretend she's talking to someone. Or maybe she'll hold it, stare back with just as much intensity. But her wistful attention is enough of an ego boost. The scowl ridden bitch, smile washed away just for her, and yet that's where her attention lied. It made her bite back a smile. 

Scarlet is a pretty thing, and she didn't need constant confirmation to remind her that she's beautiful. She's hot, she knows it, Ra'jah knows it, and Scarlet knows that's all she is to her. A pretty thing. Whatever. She's not important. 

In fear of her brain melting, and/or being fried to a crisp, Scarlet doesn't bother having two classes back to back. Her mental capacity is full, and a nice salad will probably help with that. She's on her way to meet with Yvie for lunch, thinking about their weekend plans, when she takes a misstep and stumbles, all her weight focused in her shoulder which slams against someone else's side.

"Oh shit! I'm so-" the universe is an asshole. May the odds never be in my favor. 

"Maybe watch where you're going" Her sneer is venomous, and the universe has suddenly become just the second biggest asshole. 

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck up cunt taking up half the hallway I wouldn't hit you" Ra'jah didn't do anything, a rational voice lectures, but she ignores it the way she's ignoring the taller girls face. Scarlet's grabbing at her papers, avoiding eye contact because that selfish pile of shit on her right takes up enough space as is, and if she looks into her eyes, sees that stupid fucking face this close she might do something bad. Like, in the sense of, punching her. Yeah, she can't look at her or she'll beat her up. Because that's a fight she'd win.  

"Uh oh someone's in a bad mood. Stuck up cunt that's a new one! Love the creativity. You should drop out of this school and be a writer" Ra'jah snides, and she needs to drop out before Scarlet gets grey hair from her. 

"Thanks but I'm good! When you fail out this year you can give it a try" Her words are about as empty as her own stomach, because she hasn't eaten since last night, and Ra'jah will quit fashion school and become a science engineer before she fails out. 

"Baby, me? Fail out?" Yeah, with the flawless outfit you're wearing that you sure as hell made just because you were bored one night. Your pants could literally be sold as a luxury brand. The girl who started sewing when she a embryo in the womb, you'll fucking fail out.  "That's a lot of talk for a girl who probably spends more hours getting fucked than studying- But I guess that's how you get yo' A's right?" Scarlet looks up, not at Ra'jah but away from the ground, and the urge to yell, hit her, and cry come up at the same time. She wants to scream, get everyone in hearing range to know that Ra'jah is a loser who will amount to nothing. She wants to reach out and choke her. But articulating her anger into words is too much, and she ends up just whispering whatever words are willing to come out as she gets up, not caring if she left any papers behind. 

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet" And that's the closest thing to honest Scarlet's said all day. 

In the distance, she sees Yvie walking towards her, so she waits until the freshly dyed green haired girl is caught up beside her. 

"You good Scarlet?" 

"Yeah, thanks" The two walk together, side by side, and Scarlet loops her arm through Yvie's, linking the pair. 

"You know, Scarlie, you should stop wearing heels before you break your ankles"

"Hey!" She giggled, slapping the taller girl's arm in response. "I never fall, people just get in my way" Yvie scoffs, unable to stop the corners of her lips turning up and giving her away, forever endeared by the shorter girl. Scarlet's affection makes her forget that they've only known each other for a month. They reach a set of blue doors, and Yvie opens it, holding it for Scarlet to come through. Her face seems puzzled 

"Are you down to go to Mika's Cafe? I want to get some coffee" 

"Sure, they have nice breakfast sandwiches and omelettes, I'm down" It's only a few minutes away from campus 

"What's on your mind"

"Just like, school stuff. I have to make a dress for creative fashion design, and I'm just thinking about it, and what I wanna do" Would it be tmi to blurt that Ra'jah is insufferable? 

"Cool," Yvie hummed, and spiteful words cycled through Scarlet's head, deciding on what exactly to say, before Yvie beats her to it, whipping her head in some seeming urgency

 "OH by the way, I know you're busy with your project and you're determined on getting in the top 5 and all," 

"Uh huh" 

"Buuuuut, there's a Halloween party this weekend, and I was gonna go with Brooke and her friends but they're not going anymore," Scarlet knows how Yvie feels about Brooke, and to be fair she's only met her a few times in passing, but how someone like Yvie could fall for someone as uptight as the boring blonde is beyond her. She doesn't dare bring up another possibility of why her dorm mate would be avoiding the stoic girl, a possibility involving a particularly hot headed latina glued to the Canadians side. "They decided clubbing downtown would be more fun or whatever," They're outside on the pavement now, and the afternoon breeze graces their skin. It's a welcome environment, and Scarlet slows down her pace to enjoy the air, with Yvie quickly matching her pace. 

"Wouldn't you rather go clubbing though? Like not with Brooke and them but with others," Scarlet is friendly and all, but she swears Yvie is somehow friends with half the school. She sure as hell can find a group to go with.

"I guess, but I want to go to the party," she quiets a little as she continues, "There are some people I want to see there, for fun and stuff"

"Mmmm!" Scarlet widens her eyes, looking at the taller girl with a knowing glare, sprinkled with a teeny bit of judgement. 

"It's kinda lame to go there alone!" 

"No it's not!" 

"Scarls, yeah it is"

"Why do you even care? Wanna impress some girls?" In response, Yvie rolled her eyes so hard Scarlet could practically feel it. 

"'Cause you want me to go to a fun Halloween party by myself? 

"Yes! You could walk up to anyone and there's like an 80% chance you already know them, and a 100% chance you'll become friends anyways" The quirky girl's charm is undeniable, she'll be fine without Scarlet. Yvie gives a defeated sigh

"Seems kinda homophobic" 

"Ugh you know what's actually homophobic? The fact that more people aren't madly in love with me. I'm LITERALLY perfect" The prospect of love feels like it's been dangled infront of her, her whole life. Imagine looking like Scarlet, and never dated before?

"You're right girl, you are" Yvie laughed her deep, hearty cackle and Scarlet wanted to melt a little. 

"Thank you, finally someone with taste" Looking at her outfit, she remembers that the tall girl's taste is kind of debatable, and Scarlet almost wants to say she takes it back

"You think Ra'jah has good taste then?" 

"What?" 

"Also a party seems like the best way to meet more people y'know?" She brushes over her last question, and it's much better that way.

"You know what, whatever 'll go with you" Scarlet agrees so she'll shut up. If she hears her roommate bring up she-who-shall-not-be-named-because-shes-a-stick-in-the-ass anymore she might lose her mind. And, she really doesn't have any other plans for the night so might as well.

 ***

AN: going to be a while for the next chapter bc im busy so here's a lil thing lol xo

***

They weren't supposed to meet here. Weren't supposed to see each other. At least, that's what Scarlet tries to tell herself.

"You are such a fucking pain, oh my god" Scarlet seethed because everything is hazy except the impassive girl standing before her and she can't think straight. Her cold eyes are apathetic and Scarlet wants to implode, like a glass thermostat engulfed in a burning heat where it's not a question of if, but an inevitable when? "Maybe I am arrogant" Her voice was coated in a sickly sweet frustration. She pushed further into Ra'jah's space, the taller girl stiffening at the ever decreasing space between the two. How can she be so still, so unreactive? This is all so amusing to her? Is she having fun, so fucking detached from everything and watching Scarlet crumble? Pretending like she cares about Scarlet past her pretty face? Enjoying her sadistic game? Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her. 

"Maybe I am narcissistic" Their faces were inches apart, and Ra'jah could feel the angry womans hot breathe on her cheek, the pungent smell of alcohol intruding her nose.

"But I'd rather be a confident, arrogant narcissist than whatever kind of sad fuck you are" 

Scarlet growled, and she wanted to breathe fire, burn Ra'jah's existence out of her mind and scream at everything she felt because of her. Except that she sees her, and wants her, wants to hurt her and touch her and without thinking her hands are digging around Ra'jah's waist.

"You are such-" Scarlet was interrupted as the other girl leaned in, framed the shorter girl's face with both her hands, and pressed her lips against Scarlets. Any thoughts or mental functionality she had were put to an abrupt stop. This wasn't supposed to happen. It's been so long, but no time has passed since they were last like this. The plug to her brain was pulled, and it's all static and her bodys done a full 180. Ra'jah's piercing lips are numbing, and her overheated body feels like it's been dunked in ice where all her nerves are all in shock. They weren't supposed to do this anymore, it's the only thing they've ever been able to agree on. She was frozen, unable to move, or think, far too busy being hyper focused on the familiar sugary lips on hers, sending waves of nostalgia through her body. Time has only heighted the intoxication. She gains some composure and surges forward, but Ra'jah's pulling away, opening her mouth to finally say something.

"You're so much prettier when you're quiet"

[cryinginthebackseat]

initials t.c.

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC

Words: 7.299 (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary: Tobias Carrick makes Claire an offer she can’t refuse.

Warnings: 50% plot, 50% smut, swear-a-thon, blasphemy

Author’s Note: when the book first introduced us to tobias carrick, the first thing that hit my mind was “okay, but that dude is like the carbon copy of jesse williams and that’s hot” but then, once it reveals who he is and what’s his role in the book i went “interestinggggggg” cause you know, i’m a sucker for morally grey characters and all, and i’m not even ashamed to admit it. also, carrick is shaping up to be such an interesting character with each chapter and maybe one day- okay, maybe this sounds like a pipe dream- but one day, i hope he can be a li (let a girl dream plz) lmao

also if anyone’s interested, i made a PLAYLIST to accompany reading the fic.

the title is inspired by serge gainsbourg’s initials bb

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve lain with the devil Cursed god above Forsaken heaven

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Whenever Claire thinks about Tobias Carrick, admittedly, unfortunately, tragically, she always thinks about his eyes first before remembering what a colossal pain in the ass he is.

It always comes in that order. Like the number 3 always comes before 4, like the seawater dragging back from the shoreline before a tsunami occurs, like pouring milk before the cereal (she honestly didn’t get what the fuss is about until one day Elijah cried ‘oh, hell no you don’t, satan!‘ one morning and proceeded to give her bullet points why pouring the milk before the cereal is considered a sin and more of an abomination than Nephilims’ existence and that there’s a higher probability that she’s a psycho for being a ‘milk first’ kind of person). So apparently, Claire’s a psycho now which explains so many aspects- but she digresses and the point is, the reaction is uncontrollable and she high-key hates how she can’t control her goddamn mind most of the time.

The point is, she needs to stop thinking about him to begin with. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Claire Castelnuovo was born in the summer, under the sign of Gemini. Marilyn Monroe once said that stands for intellect, being a Gemini, but she was too blissfully unaware of this guerdon that she devoted her adolescent years to being outdoors instead. Too many days she spent trampling along the cornfields with her cousins until the skies faded out with brilliant purple-tinged amber and she was carrying a piece of the sun in her skin and smelled like one, stuffing wildflowers inside her boots as she walked around the neighborhood with her dad’s old stethoscope, napping in a hammock with Oasis’ All Around the World on repeat. By the time she hit 15, her black strands had turned brown from repeated sun exposure. She loved it.

But it was a different time, a different place. Somewhere that only exists on the margins of her memories, lost and hidden.

Now, Claire prefers the night.

It’s 9:30 pm when she arrives at a hotel bar in downtown Boston. A newly christened establishment which has somehow become a regular spot for Hemingway’s enthusiasts once the Boston Globe wrote an article about their Hemingway Daiquiri and how, as they wrote it, ‘probably the only place that’s brave and crazy enough to adhere to the 1930s original recipe’ and bourgeois party birds at wee hours during the weekend.

Her eyes are gritty, dry and strange. Her mind’s much worse for the wear- she feels like shit, like in the middle of watching that scene from The Green Mile shit when all is hopeless and you feel like walking out of the theater, but you’ve spent your last savings just to buy the ticket, so you decide to stick through it.

Claire makes a beeline for the bar, tries to flag down the bartender. She orders an Old Fashioned, making sure to specify to double it because she’s not a regular here and he’s not Reggie and that’s how she’s been taking her drink for years.

She knows well deep in her bones that she should be somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, somewhere where Tim Mcgraw often plays from the subpar speakers, and the rustic wooden bar countertop is gouging and discoloring from the cheap household cleaners and alcohol stains, and her friends are cramming together in the same booth in the back, reveling and laughing until they close the bar down and make a mess all over. Perhaps it’s a mistake coming here, where no one’s a familiar face and the drinks are a tad overpriced for her budget.

But then, perhaps this is exactly what she needs; the unfamiliarity, the visceral feeling knowing that she doesn’t belong here, where no one knows her name and the huge deal of weight she’s currently carrying on her shoulders. Perhaps, she can’t face her friends after what happened, after what Esme has done. Shit, how could any of this happen? Claire knows this all on Esme’s, but her guilt has grown hopelessly tangled with her anxiety. She’s her intern, for fuck’s sake, Claire’s supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

Man, where’s Declan Nash when she feels like punching someone in the face?

Claire makes the mistake of drinking her drink too quickly, because it hasn’t been ten minutes and she’s drained half of the content. Then she reaches for her phone in her bag, fiddles with it, absent-minded, equal parts bored before then settles on watching the band performing Art Pepper’s You Go To My Head and immediately thinks of that time she accidentally dropped her brother’s saxophone in a moment of her rather graceless, wine-soaked self with the whole family present.

Someone plops down on the empty stool next to her. Claire’s now scrolling through her phone- again, bored. Sienna commented on the post Elijah shared to the group chat with a few unnecessary-yet-totally-necessary emojis to the already convoluted series of texts and Claire only reads them in silence, not only because her friends’ texting behaviors are too chaotic for her to follow sometimes but she’s not really feeling like talking to anyone right now.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Famous last words.

Claire freezes in her seat. Her phone’s still glowing in her hand, alighting her features. She recognizes that voice- too well, that is and it’s enough to set off her flight-or-fight response.

She glances up from her phone, preparing for the worst.

Well, what’s presented before her is literally the worst.

“Of all the gin joints…” she says once her eyes find Tobias Carrick sitting next to her, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled-up, a few buttons undone, reeking of smoke, soap and antiseptic with a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

She should have gone to Donahue’s instead.

“Evening to you too, Castelnuovo. Drinking your dinner tonight, I see?”

“What, this? No, this is breakfast. 100% daily value of alcohol and pretty much nothing else. I mean, it’s not the weekend without a bad case of hangover and an aspirin snowglobe in the morning, am I right? You know, like a glass of aspirin? Not a literal snowglobe?” she blabbers, realizing just so by the time she hears him snort. Claire chokes down another sip to shut her mouth up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m about to commit first-degree murder and burn this whole place to the ground,” he drawls, the ever goddamn sarcastic. “What do you think? I’m trying to get dru-”

“No, I mean what are you doing here, of all places? Can’t you get drunk somewhere else?” she interrupts, her midwest accent does funny things to the vowels and consonants- something that only happens whenever she’s in distress, or at least according to Jackie.

“Last time I heard, this joint’s still owned by the Hilton, not a certain junior member of the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook hospital.”

“Dude, what do you think of the H in Claire H. Castelnuovo stands for?” Deadpan, trying to keep up with the rolling sarcasm, she retorts. He smirks.

“Horatio?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she mutters, mid-eye-roll, mid-snickering.

He chuckles, his voice rich and smoky amidst the late-night swing and distant chatters. Carrick doesn’t leave, of course, typically him- if those anecdotes Ethan told her has taught her anything about his character, that is- defying everything, scheming his way to the top, the embodiment of ‘those devilish boys with their heavenly eyes’ type your mother warns you about.

Not that the latter is relevant.

“Or what?” His mouth twitches but there’s a hard, challenging light in his eyes that she knows too well by now.

“Or I’m leaving.“ She shoots him a glare. He’s testing her patience- again, like it’s his finesse. Some things never change, it seems.

“Come on, Castelnuovo, don’t be a sourpuss. The night is young and I can promise you, the last thing I am is a horrible drinking buddy.”

With a touch of irony, she replies: “I’m sure. I bet you asked your friends to fill out a questionnaire every time you went out with them, did you?”

Carrick hums.

“You’re funny.” But he says it in the same tone that someone might say Jesus fuck, you’re probably one of the most frustrating creatures I’ve ever laid eyes on. Also, because the next thing he says is: “A little rough around the edges, but funny nonetheless.”

“That makes one of us then.”

Carrick frowns, which is kind of a surprise because she’s half expected him to flash her that signature cheeky grin of his.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation here. I know we haven’t really seen eye-to-eye with each othe-”

Claire snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “That, doctor, is an understatement of the fucking century.”

“Okay so, we’re like Tom and Jerry but sans the background music and a naive little duckling running around calling one of us his momma, but I feel like now’s the time to call out a temporary truce between us.” A beat, then: “I heard about what happened with the intern.”

Something flashes across her face- and Carrick must have noticed it, because his face does this odd thing- it softens, even for a moment. She hates it. He’s not supposed to be looking at her like that, not supposed to see her at her weakest state or saved her ass- And Jesus, why does she have to be indebted to Tobias Carrick, of all people- But god forbid, the last thing she’ll ever do is crying in front of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, barely audible, trying to temper her fluctuated emotions.

“Then don’t. We can talk about anything else or fall into some sort of endless, meaningless platitudes. Whichever will work.” As if sensing Claire’s lingering hesitation, he adds. “Tell you what, to sweeten the offer, your next drinks are on me.”

She assesses him for a long minute, eyes narrowing. She’s shaking her head, but her mouth, as if against her will, instead says: “Careful, Carrick, there’s a chance I’ll be abusing that offer and run you dry.”

"Hey, if you want to butcher your liver so bad, don’t stop on my account,” he says. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure to save your ass again this time around. Pro bono.”

Claire looks as if she’s just swallowed a dead rat. “Thanks, but no thanks. Death seems more like an appealing choice.”

“Well, I stopped death from interfering then, I’ll stop it again.” Carrick winks, she pretends to gag again yet remains still in her seat, so Carrick waves at the bartender for their order- she orders for a refill and he, a martini and Claire is this close from asking 'shaken or stirred?’ but then remembers who he is and immediately washes the question down with her drink.

“You know, if anyone told me weeks ago that I’d be having a drink with you tonight, I probably would have socked them.“

Carrick is in the middle of lighting his cigarette, but laughs instead. “The Times They Are a-Changin’, as Bob Dylan said.” A puff of smoke escapes his mouth, curling around his fingers. Claire instinctively looks away. “Which reminds me of that one time your mentor sang Ballad of A Thin Man on the fucking subway when we were 20.”

She swivels her head to his direction, on the verge of choking on her drink. “Hold on, hold on, Ethan Jonah Ramsey sings?”

“Give him a dare he couldn’t refuse and a few shots of whiskey, and I promise you he’ll sing like Sinatra on crack.” He grins, his eyes are all crinkled and bright; she thinks that means he’s genuinely amused. “Ah, good times. We were like- wait, who was it he’d like to say we’re like again?”

A small smile pulls at her lips. “Bert and Ernie.”

“Jesus, he really fucking compares us to some Sesame Street characters, huh?” She laughs at that, loud and bright. He does the same. “Personally, I’d always say we were like Butch and Sundance back then- rebels with a cause, a band of misfits, trying to leave our marks on the world. You know those types. We were young, we wanted so much- I still do. I mean, let’s be real, whoever’s wanted to be defeated at their own game?”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, not quite a frown.

“Nobody,” Claire concurs, hating herself for it. “But was it worth it? Betraying the closest thing you had to a brother or a lover…” Carrick coughs on his smoke from the latter. “or whatever in the process just to get what you wanted?” Claire was obviously aiming for that brash, hard-hitting jab, but it lands gloriously too soft.

The bartender finally places their ordered drinks down on the bar. Carrick reaches for it, taking a careful swig, then sets his glass down. He takes a deep breath.

"It’s nothing personal. It never was. I never considered him as my rival.”

“Yeah, but by doing whatever you did, you’ve made an enemy out of him,” she counters. “Look, Carrick, I know we live in a dog-eat-dog world and I know being good sometimes doesn’t get the job done. Perhaps Machiavelli was right. Perhaps, when necessary, you have to be ruthless, dissembling and manoeuvring- what did he say again? ‘The end justifies the means’? But if any worthwhile end can justify the means to attain it, if everyone outright surrenders to their darker side, then what’s left of our humanity?”

For an interminable moment, there is only silence. He simply stares at her, as if she’s a walking, talking Rubik’s cube he can’t solve or a book that he has opened and now he’s got to know so much more and she feels pinned under those warm irises, uneasy.

Suddenly, his mouth begins to take shape; the corners hike up, stretch and then he does the unexpected.

The bastard fucking laughs.

“Excuse me?!” she spits, white-hot anger lacing each word. Carrick laughs harder- the audacity- despite Claire’s growing razor’s edge stare. “Did you just laugh at me? I was being fucking seriou-”

“Sorry, sorry.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his left eye. “I was just remembering Harper’s words. She’s right, you really are on the side of the angels, aren’t you?”

She points at him with her glass, snarling. “And you, mister, are the devil himself with a medical degree and an egg head- and I don’t mean the slang for a highly academic person.”

“Ouch,” Carrick says out loud, still kind of laughing, borderline frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Damn straight. Though you have a lot to apologize for.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about that one patient I stole under your nose?”

“The North remembers, ser,” she says, mean-spirited.

“Then does the North remembers that I saved her life?”

“Oh, so you’re discrediting the efforts of the other doctors that helped you make the cure?”

“Alright, alright. You win.” Carrick holds up his hands, the universal gesture of defeat and takes one final drag of his cigarette. He stubs it out, all the while keeping his gaze on her.

“So, how exactly can I make it up to you?“

Claire blinks- once, twice, thrice, realizing his intent. His voice drops an octave and he’s leaning in, close enough for her to notice the constellations of freckles splaying across his face and the way his brown eyes glinted like two shots of whiskey under a stream of light, intense and all-consuming. She feels her mind races, her brains feel as if they underwent a short-circuit and get caught on fire, and the fact that her mind’s on the precipice of exploring the idea is not helping.

A burst of laughter erupts from her throat, not that it’s funny- there’s nothing funny about the situation, but someone ought to diffuse this shift of tension between them, or that was her aim, at least.

“What, you wanna pay me back?” she asks, trying to keep her voice from cracking but failing miserably. Fingers trembling against her glass as she chugs nearly a quarter of her drink in one go.

He notices that.

"A Lannister always pays his debts, does he? If you think that I owe you one, then I’ll gladly pay.” His eyes flick back to her face, searing into her. The air crackles between them. The band is playing a different song now, a sound that only exists on the margin of her attention. If they’re in, say a mid 2000s rom-com movie, someone would probably interrupt this moment and save her from this. But this isn’t a movie.

Claire licks her lips, a candid reaction which encourages him to inch closer- or is it her? She can’t tell anymore. Tracing odd patterns on the palm of her hand with his finger and oh god, this is Carrick, the bane of her fucking existence, she’d shoot him first before she kisses him. But something about the prospect of fucking this bastard twists her insides deliciously into a confused mess.

“How? By fucking me?” she inquires, feigning scandalized- all that Catholic guilt bullshit.

He grins, all-teeth and wolfish and shrugs as if they’re talking about his life insurance policy or shit. “Well, that’s the idea.”

“But you don’t even like me.” It should come out as I don’t even like you, but even she knows that’ll be just another lie she tells.

“On the contrary, I enjoy our rivalry far more than I should, Castelnuovo,” he purrs and places a hand on her knee. Her throat bobs. She’s wearing a skirt, it didn’t seem important then, but now his hand feels warm against her skin, dangling on the edge of impropriety. Like gravity, all it takes is a little push for him to cross that line.

“I should be disliking the way you talk to me, challenging me and putting me on the back foot every goddamn time. I should be focusing on taking you down a peg, but the more I see you, the more I realize you have an attractive kind of power. And I’m just one man. And if there’s anything I learned, the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”

But then his movement suddenly ceases. Claire almost asks why.

"However…”

“What?” she stares up at him, eyes wide, breath hitching.

“However if you only accept alcohol as the currency for transactions, then I’ll tell the bartender to get us another round instead,“ he tells her, offering her one last chance to back out from this, from making this mistake with him.

Claire stares into her drink, actually mulling this over. Her mind tells her no, but the other part- the alcohol-infused part of her mind- whispers otherwise. She imagines if Ethan or any of her friends are here, they would probably grab her shoulder and shake the living hell out of her for even reconsidering his offer.

But then again, intelligence, alcohol and desperation have always had a bad history of getting along together.

“What about June?” Claire asks against her better judgement, after a long, considerable pause. Carrick raises a confused brow.

“What about her?”

“I thought you guys…” she trails off, makes a face, feeling all-kind of flustered and aroused and wow, she’s really doing this, huh? “I mean, I don’t know- I don’t wanna get in between you guys.”

“Nah. It was only a three time thing, but there’s never been anything between us.” He chuckles at Claire’s askance look. “If you don’t believe me, you can fact-check it with the woman herself,” Carrick adds, looking at her dead-on with his eyes like he wants to get the message across.

She regards him silently for a long second, and maybe she’s a touch drunk now, maybe the bartender put something in her drink, or maybe she just needs to blow off some steam after what’s been happening in these past few weeks and Carrick happens to be a decent warm body for the occasion, but Claire finds herself shifting closer.

"Then I want you to pay me back.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” she answers, more sure this time, more determined.

Her nose bumps his, his breath fanning across her face all the while Carrick’s slightly pushing her skirt up, letting his fingertips travel higher. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her eyes and lips, checking for her reaction. There is no inhibition here, not anymore. People might be watching- heck, they could be already watching and it terrifies her that she doesn’t give a damn about it.

“But if you tell anyone about this, I swear to god… ” she warns and a shadow of mirth passes across his eyes, making her almost regretting this. Almost.

“Claire, darling.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name and her stomach does a tango. “Your secret is safe with me.“ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

He gets them a room in the hotel, it’s on the twentieth floor. Carrick handles the accommodation- he can afford it, apparently, which is not really surprising and the nuisating check-in procedure while Claire only waits in the lobby like a beautiful, agitated china doll amidst the turbulent sea the whole time until he comes back, flashes the room key at her and beckons her to follow.

She goes ahead of him, but he catches up. His body heat sends her anxiety rocketing sky-high through the roof as they walk next to each other, hands briefly brushing against one another but she ignores that (or at least she tries).

They are silent in the elevator, they are silent even once they reach the designated floor and walk down the hall to their room where the dim and shadowed lights follow their steps like vultures.

Carrick holds open the door for her and she enters, taking in the windows and the striking view of Boston skyline peeking behind the curtains, the TV and the queen-sized bed. The latter does nothing to assuage the anticipation that’s bubbling in the pit of her stomach, by the way.

Claire hears him shut the door, locking both bolts. She peers at him over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. Their eyes meet, neither speaks. He’s taking off his black peacoat, back against the door, he’s looking at her as if wanting her is his full-time occupation and the realizations comes in like a mule kick, how that tiny voice inside her head, the one that tells her that this is a bad idea and she’s better off leaving never comes.

The room is not considerably huge (with $110 per night, you would have expected you’d get a bigger room), he could easily have her in six large steps, yet he stands there. Sizing her up, smirking rather devilishly, handsomely as if challenging her to make the first move. It’s another fucking game with him. A display of power, waiting who would fall first.

Claire finally turns around to face him. With a renowned determination, she removes her coat, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. Her blouse follows next and her skirt, which she tugs it oh so slowly down her legs.

Carrick’s eyes widen, if she doesn’t know better, she thinks he’s speechless. He takes a deep breath, his gaze religiously following every movement as she twirls around once more to unhook her bra. His jaw clenches and unclenches. He’s having a hard time keeping himself in check which she takes an immense pleasure in. Claire just wants to see the man squirm for a change, even if she has to shed every article of clothing she wears.

By the time she slips off of her underwear, she is breathing raggedly. He hasn’t yet approached her so she crawls onto the bed, lying on her back with one elbow props her up, legs crossed. She kicks off her heels, rolls down her stockings with a bit of that noir come-hither, Lauren Bacall-esque heavy bedroom eyes.

Finally, Carrick steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away, like a target, filling her line of sight. The tension in the room is hot enough to send the thermometer reaching its maximum limit and she’s burning, burning, burning right through the core.

Claire cranes her head up to meet his gaze, noticing the way he’s drinking in her body like a pirate ogling a bottle of rum. High-strung, tense, Carrick lowers his head to her, his fingers carding through her long hair. Dimness consumes him raw, his silhouette is starting to find its place amongst the shadows except for his eyes. Never does the fire in his eyes falter, merely alight.

They are already nose-to-nose when Claire suddenly raises her hand over his lips. He withdraws from her, looking confused and hot and bothered.

“Take a seat over there, will you?” She motions to the settee near the bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He smirks, but she can see his bravado if faltering. “Ordering me around in the bed now, are we?”

“Didn’t you say tonight is about you making it up to me?”

“Touche, touche.” Carrick straightens his posture and makes his way to the settee across from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat given the growing issue in his pants.

With eyes still trained to his, Claire cups her own breast, fingers pinching her pebbled nipple before the same hand travels lower down her stomach, her thighs. Carrick leans forward in his seat, obviously liking where this is going before Claire slowly and teasingly part her legs for him to see.

A surprised groan escapes him.

“Jesus, Claire,” Carrick hisses. “Fuck, I didn’t know you’re a goddamn tease.”

She doesn’t bother replying to him, but a winning grin finds its way across her face as she lays on her back, her shame and modesty are distant, knees pulled up so he can have a clear view of her. With two fingers, she runs them along her folds, dragging them slowly up to her clit. Claire imagines they are his fingers- which once upon a time would have horrified her, but tonight, as she repeats the motion over and over, knowing that he’s sitting there, watching her without being able to get his hands on her, she decides to submit to this newfound fantasy.

A rustle pulls her back to reality. He’s undoing his own pants, palming his cock, runs his fingers over the leaking head.

A low moan catches in her throat at that, her gaze snapping up from his erection to his face where his irises have darkened and pupils dilated. He wants to show her, that’s he’s as depraved as her when it comes to wanting, that he fucking wants her and in spades and she fails to think like a normal human being anymore.

Claire uses that image to work on herself harder, faster, feeling the intense pressure beginning to build beneath her fingers. She’s so wet now, despite him being able to see that, she wants him to hear it as well as she uses her idle hand to tap against herself. Carrick growls, his pace matching the rhythm she’s setting.

She slips her fingers inside her, drops her head back against the mattress and bites a loud moan that threatens to escape her lips. Flushing scarlet all over her abdomen, her breasts and up to her neck. Her blood thumping louder than bombs in her ears, her breaths begin to come in gasps.

Another fast and hard thrust from fingers, and Claire finds herself sighing his name.

“Tobias…”

And every last bit of his self-restraint snaps.

In just a blink of an eye, Carrick is already on his feet, grabs her waist, harshly, and tugs her down onto the edge of the bed where he’s now kneeling before her. He doesn’t bother with the teasings or soft kisses or caresses, and even before Claire has the time to register what’s happening, he crushes his face between her parted legs and eats her out.

She gasps, high and fleeting, twisting the bed sheet between her fists while his tongue flicks over her, moving back up, back down, lapping along her folds in the same motions she showed him with her hand, how she likes it. Claire forgets how to breathe. It just occurs to her just how arousing the sight of him on his knees like this, sending her mind hitchhiking into outer space.

“Oh, fuck.” She breathes, back arching on the bed with a drawn-out moan. “Fuck, Tobias!” Her hips gyrate over his mouth and she presses her heels against his shoulder blades. She’s so close. All she needs is a little push to send her careening into oblivion and it seems that Carrick can sense it because he brings two digits to her entrance and slides easily inside her, setting a ruthless pace.

With her hands reaching out to the back of his head, Claire cries out his name and trembles violently. Encouraged, Carrick curves his fingers inside her, hitting that exact spot that finally undoes her as she comes, long and hard, around his mouth and fingers- the kind of orgasm that you can feel deep in your bones- and watches as fireworks dance behind her lids.

When she finally comes down from her high, everything is hazy. It’s like waking up from a deep slumber after a decadent soak in a scented bath and she loses all orientation, until she feels him nipping the inside of her thighs. She hisses, glances down, heavy-lidded eyes finding Carrick is leaving bruises after bruises all over her skin like some kind of a lewd memento of his work, like he wants her to remember this the next time she wakes up in her own bed and he’s not there.

"Are you trying to turn me into a Na'vi, doctor?” She asks, still kinda breathless, feeling surprisingly conversational despite having just experienced, if not, one of the best orgasms in her life. He smiles against her thigh and withdraws from her, only after her thighs are sufficiently bruised enough, licks his fingers clean and stands up at the end of the bed.

“Maybe. You’d make a cute blue extraterrestrial creature, though,” he replies cheekily, then undoes the button of his shirt, showcasing his naked torso.

Claire feels her cheeks heating up again, but forces herself to stare; eyes following his pectoral muscles, down to the toned lines of his abdomen while he slides off of his pants. The man is one fine specimen, alright, and he knows- smug bastard- and she thinks it’s such a shame that Carrick is… well, Carrick. If the man learns how to shut up for one minute or avoid trying to sabotage everyone’s career at Edenbrook altogether, maybe, just maybe, she’d consider him.

“But honestly, I just wanted to hear you say my name again,” Carrick continues, crawling his way up to her, pulling her out of her musings. He settles between her thighs. His lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe while his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipple. Claire shivers. Nails scraping along his skin, raising angry marks that would certainly be there tomorrow.

When they kiss, it’s so good that she can’t help but curl her toes. He kisses her like he’s trying to steal her breath or her name. She can taste herself in his mouth, which sparks so many feelings inside her. Her mind’s foggy, sweat pooling on her forehead. Carrick is but shoves his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her, biting, sucking and she leans hard into the kiss, retaliates by scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. It spurs him on. Making his cock twitch against her thigh and Claire decides she can’t wait anymore.

Claire rolls her hips at him. He takes the hint and rolls over to grab a condom from his pants. Then he’s back on top of her, his weight and heat crushing her most deliciously and brings her body further up the bed with him; she drapes her legs around his hips, hands gripping his arms. Her lust and anticipation collaborate to the point of near madness.

Carrick nips the taut line of her jaw and drives himself into her.

They both groan in unison.

“Oh, fuck.” Carrick mumbles between shaky breaths, his face pressed against her throat. “Fucking hell, Claire, you feel so warm.”

Claire, on the other hand, goes rigid under him. Her mouth hangs open and her world narrows down to the feeling of his cock inside her and the pleasure that builds up again in her abdomen.

This is happening, she thinks, he’s inside her and it feels so amazing. She might as well be crazy for agreeing to do this with him in the first place, but the promise of the thrill beats the doubts.

He starts slow, just the smallest fraction of hips, gently thrusting back and forth in shallow motions. She whines, frustrated and impatient, raising her own hips to meet his, but Carrick’s weight pins her onto the mattress and she can’t fucking move.

“F-faster,” Claire stammers, her molars grinding like toothache.

The bastard smirks, like he’s been anticipating the word coming out of her mouth.

“Beg for it.” His words are punctuated with every unhurried stroke he’s giving her, teasing her and if she’s not in the middle of being fucked right now, she would have kicked him in the balls.

Growling, she swallows her plea by pulling Carrick down for another kiss. This time, she’s the one who does the biting and the sucking, making sure he’s distracted enough and then just like with all the things she does in her life, she takes the matter into her own hands.

With all her strength, she scrambles up, pushes him off of her and knocks him onto his back flat on the bed. When she swings her legs to straddle him, his eyes pop.

“Holy shit, you are feisty.”

“Only cause I’m angry and horny,” she bites off. Angling herself above him and with one hand, guides his shaft back to her opening. “And you- you weren’t doing a proper job fucking me.”

He smirks. “I was trying to wind you up.”

“Fuck you.”

She lowers herself and sinks back onto his cock, relishing in his moans and growls.

“Baby, you’re doing it.” His hands curling around her waist, his head falls back onto the bed, exposing his throat and Claire is so hard-pressed not to bite him there.

Claire ignores his smartassness, naturally, and lifts herself, drops back down. Slamming her hips into his until she’s bouncing on him. Nails clawing at his chest. Finally be able to set a pace she desperately craves for, finally wiping that smirk off of his face.

Under her, Carrick is biting his lip in an effort to not to lose control. His hands are everywhere now; her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her cheeks. Leaving fire on its wake. She might still hate him after this is strange, little arrangement is over but at this juncture, he’s exactly the remedy she needs after everything.

Then Carrick wraps his arms around her and picks up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Claire shakes. She can’t catch her breath, her forehead pressed on his shoulder, her teeth latching onto his skin. Breathing a string of 'fuckfuckfuck’ while he squeezes her ass and continues to fuck her with careless abandon.

"Tobias.” Her moans amplify. She’s close to climaxing again, her legs quivering. Eyes wide shut. “Please, please.” So much for not begging.

He pulls her to him so their foreheads meet. Their lips brush against each other, but they aren’t kissing, merely trading breaths. A hand touches her cheek and her lids flutter open, finding his eyes- those depthless, amber eyes that pretty much lead her to this point, are watching her, pulling her in.

“Say it again,” he encourages darkly, face twists in pleasure. “My name. Say it again.”

She does it again, it comes out as a groaned whisper, repeating it over and over again like a sacred mantra.

Her second orgasm sweeps through her, making her spine arches, it tears a winded moan from her throat and it’s more than enough to trigger Carrick’s own release; fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, groaning gutturally.

Panting, sore but sated, Claire collapses on top of his chest, his arm still drapes around her. The rise and fall of his breath lull her to sleep. Before she knows it, he gently rolls her to his side, pulling the covers for them and kisses her on the shoulder, which comes out as… odd for her.

The bed moves and she feels him leaving.

He’s leaving.

He’s leaving.

She doesn’t know why it stings, but it does. But also Claire opts not to pay no mind to it and forces her mind to surrender to sleep that once again tries to take hold.

Claire wishes she doesn’t dream of him that night, but she does.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s way past midnight when she wakes up. The room is dark. The curtains are closed. She’s still naked and sore under the covers, mind reeling in from what has just transpired.

One might ask in which universe does Claire Castelnuovo agree to sleep with Tobias Carrick? Well, apparently they did it in this one and oddly still, she doesn’t regret it. Though she’s still low-key sad that he left her straight after sex, but hey, what can she do about it? This arrangement itself is nothing but a means to an end, anyway, a perverse alternative for him to pay back what he allegedly owes her, she shouldn’t be surprised if he left after the ‘debt’ is paid.

Feeling her mood somehow takes an unexpected dip, she gets us from the bed and gathers her clothes on the floor.

She’s in the middle of zipping up her skirt when the bedside lamp flickers and comes on.

Claire turns around. Carrick, rousing from sleep, looks at her, rubbing his eyes and stifles a yawn. His lips still tinged from her kisses and bites.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep and Claire thinks her mouth is hanging open, standing rooted to the spot like a spider on an icicle; frozen in time.

For a moment, she does nothing but stares at him, being rendered speechless. For many times, Tobias Carrick never fails to surprise her. Just when she thinks she has him all figured out, he comes sneaking in through her windows like a thief in the night and it just strikes her, how he really is an uncharted territory for her. Despite her having him pinned under her, exploring the hard planes of his body under the touches just a few hours ago.

The man is like a fucking myth, at this point. She knows him only from stories and her limited time around him, but who is exactly Tobias Carrick? Is he the competitive doctor at Mass Kenmore, the Machiavellian asshole that severed his friendship/relationship with Ethan for the sake of his greed and ambition? Or is he, Tobias Carrick, the man who saves her life, makes her laugh and kisses her shoulder in the afterglow?

She’ll probably never know.

“Yeah, my roommates will probably deploy a search party if I don’t come home tonight,” she replies, distracted, finally finding her own voice back. He nods, feigning disappointment- or is he not? She clears her throat and continues putting on her clothes. “I thought you left.”

He chuckles at the absurdity of her deduction. “And without saying goodbye?” Carrick rolls off of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s already wearing his pants- thank fuck for that- and approaches her. “I may be an asshole, Castelnuovo, but just so you know, my mother raised me better than that.”

So they’re back to their usual last name basis perimeter. That’s good, right? After all of this, she thinks a little familiarity would be nice for her sanity.

“Good to know, then.”

Silence encompasses the room. It’s awkward and overwhelming and it throws her a little off-balance. At the bar, they seemed to know exactly what to say to each other- especially him; but now, even she can sense the hesitation in his gait, at the way he’s looking at her and a faint alarm is trilling her head. Because if he’s making this awkward, she can do a whole lot of worse.

"Oh, before you ask, that makes up for pretty much everything, yeah. I mean, it’s alright.” You fucking dumbass, she thinks to herself, averting his gaze while a smile blooms on his face.

“Good to know, then.” He parrots her words and she huffs a laugh, freely and sweetly, like she’s currently not knee-deep in her problems or she’s just fucked the most incorrigible man that ever exists. He does too, but his gaze lands on her mouth before going back to her eyes.

Another silence passes. It’s time to go.

“I have to go now.”

He nods mutely and moves away so Claire can step past him.

She wears her coat. In the mirror, she still looks thoroughly fucked; her hair’s dishevelled, she smells like him now, but she really needs to go. She promises herself that this will be a one time thing because, Jesus fuck, she’s supposed to be smarter than this. She’s not fifteen anymore, and this is not the summer where she can watch the sunset from the cornfields with her cousins even though his eyes possess the same color.

Yet she walks toward the door in a daze, like she’s forgetting something but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Can I-”

“Hey, do you-”

She stops, mid-turning, and closes her mouth. She doesn’t realize she’s interrupting him.

“Oh, sorry,” Claire says, embarrassed. “You go first, it’s alright.”

“Can I have your number?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant.

She thinks he’s joking or maybe he’s just feigning interest, but one look at his eyes and she can tell that this isn’t smoke and mirrors.

The eyes, chico. They never lie. It’s dumb, but that line from Scarface is the first thing that comes to her mind. That’s why when she hands him her phone, her hand is shaking slightly. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.  

Claire takes a cursory glance at her phone once he returns it. He saved his number solely as t.c. with the water drop, the syringe, the ghost, the eggplant, the firework emoji and she chuckles endearingly, questioning the universe how he can easily get both a rise and a laugh out of her.

“I’ll text you?” Carrick asks again and she nods a little too enthusiastically at it, but what the hell?

“Sure.”

“Alright.” He takes one look at her, steps closer and for a moment, she thinks he might be going to kiss her.

“Goodnight, Claire,” Carrick says instead and she nods, admitting the fact that he’s not going to do it.

“Goodnight to you too, Tobias.” Then pauses at the doorway, feeling surprisingly bold. “I gotta give it to you, though, for someone who’s become the bane of my existence for months, you’re a damn good lay.”

He barks out a laugh, obviously, that Claire can hear all the way down the hall. And she thinks she can get used to the sound.

                                                         fin.

Tag list: @villain-fuckarooni @beckaroo @arfeiniel​ @this-person-is-busy @colossalpainintheass​ @drethanramslay @hatescapsicum @theeccentricbibliophile

[absandersons]

Programing The Winter Soldier

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, heavy angst, this is seriously big sad hours

AN: This is so very sad and I definitely cried writing it lmao.  I love Bucky Barnes so much. 

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Words: 3873

Read it on AO3 here

January 23, 1945

General,

Sgt. Barnes has undergone an initial mind wipe.  Dr. Zola has succeeded in attaching the weapon to his shoulder.  He has been put in the cryo-chamber as a test, and after some initial pain it looks as though it has worked.

We will begin reprogramming shortly.

Longing

Bucky wakes up in pain.  His arm hurts.  After a few moments of long, deep breaths where he decides he’s not, in fact, dead, he tries, experimentally, to move his fingers.  To his relief, he finds he can, but something feels different, wrong.  The clicking in his index finger, from where he had broken it when he was twelve defending Steve from some guy he had tried to fight in an alley after the creep had tried to grab at a woman on the street, was gone.  The pain is gone there too, in fact he can’t feel anything below the burning where his shoulder meets something cold, something foreign.

He tries to look around, but it’s pitch black wherever he is.  It’s also brutally fucking cold.  He shivers violently, trying to get away from whatever cold metal is touching his skin, but no matter how far he leans, he can’t seem to get away from it.

Suddenly, without warning, fluorescent lights above him burst into life, and Bucky screws his eyes up against the sudden brightness.  Blinking away the mild pain, he sees a man he vaguely recognizes coming toward him.  He’s a shorter man, wearing round glasses…

Like another switch flipped, Bucky suddenly remembers this man, remembers a saw taken to the shattered remains of his arm, remembers being tied down, with a rag stuffed in his mouth to keep him from biting off his own tongue.  He remembers the arm that doesn’t belong to him attached to his left side.  He remembers throwing someone across the room as though he was weightless.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the man looks him up and down, ignoring the way Bucky shied openly away from his gaze, “Let us begin.”

They don’t release Bucky from the restraints while the doctor, Zola, measures him from head to toe, has him flex his new arm, takes his blood pressure and heart rate, checks him for infection.  He only occasionally stops to speak to an assistant, who all keep their distance from Bucky, or say something in German to a soldier watching everything.  He makes Bucky watch a grainy video of ever-changing shapes, and sticks him painfully with a needle whenever he tries to look away.

“Now Sergeant,” Zola addresses him after nearly an hour of poking and prodding, “Can you tell me a memory of yours?”

Bucky doesn’t even consider, just says the first thing that comes into his brain.  Whatever this guy wants, it’s going to be easiest to just give it to him.

“Steve and I were walking along Rockaway beach two years ago.  I remember it was nearly dusk, summer, we were watching the sunset and Steve brought some bread to feed the birds.  I remember they were swarming us, you show them any kind of food and they all come swooping in.  Steve kept laughing because they were trying to land on me.  I remember the smile on his face and his eyes matched the water.  It was the first time he really laughed since his mother had died.  He told me later that he really needed that laugh.”

Zola looks at one of his assistants and gestures to the red book on the table next to him.

“First word: Longing.”

March 10, 1945

General,

We have had limited success reprogramming Barnes so far.  Zola has been working extensively with him, and while we are now seeing less incidents of outward aggression to staff or soldiers, his rate of noncompliance has skyrocketed.

Please advise on any alternate methods we should attempt.

Rusted

Bucky tries not to think about his new normal, but the repetition of each day makes that difficult.

Each morning, he’s awoken by a prison alarm and the instantaneous switching on of all the lights in his cell, followed immediately by his first meal of the day served through a slot in the door.  Steel door, reinforced, at least four feet thick.  Even the new arm doesn’t make much of a dent in it, though he’s tried.  God knows, he’s tried.

After breakfast he’s led to the combat cage where he meets with Zola, before being led through drills that he must comply with.  Noncompliance leads to pain.  Stepping out of line leads to pain.  Not eating leads to pain.  Not answering a question leads to pain.  His whole life revolves around inflicting pain and trying not to get pain inflicted on him.

On bad days, when he’s been too slow or asked one too many questions, they wipe him before lunch.  He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.  There is nothing else to say.  It’s beyond unbearable.

On good days, they’d give him lunch and Zola would run his usual tests.  Ask him about a memory, ask him about his family, his parents, his sister, his friends.  For some reason, it always came back to Steve.  Every time, no matter how Bucky tried to steer his brain away from him, it always came back to Steve.

This time he tells Zola about an old motorcycle they had rescued from the junkyard one summer.  It was more scrap metal than anything, rusted out from the wind and the rain and the New York winter it had suffered through outdoors, but they had scraped together pennies from odd jobs and had gotten it to run again.  It was a blast, to go zipping through the streets of Brooklyn in the dead of night, looking for trouble or whatever they could find, having to stop what felt like every ten minutes to fix some part that had fallen off or sprung a leak.  A total hassle, but totally worth it.

After his tests, Zola would send him back to the unnamed soldier who was responsible for his physical activity, this time to put him against enemies.  In the beginning, Bucky would refuse to fight them, but in his new quest of not putting himself through more pain if he could help it, he had started obeying the commands given to him, even if that meant using the strange attachment to his body that he hated looking at, that was welded to his skin, the burned and tortured flesh above it just a reminder that he used to be fully human.

After his second round of drills, they either send him to bed and give him dinner an hour later, or they put him in cryo.  He longs for the cold metal of the room they keep him in on the nights when he goes to cryo.

It’s the same every single day.

Zola starts saying a new word to him: Rusted.

May 7, 1945

General,

After three weeks, Barnes’ hunger strike has ended.  He can barely stand anymore, let alone lift the arm, but he is willing to eat.  Zola has suggested that we put him back in cryo and get his weight up so he can at least stand.  Your suggestion of a controlled shock each time he refused to eat worked perfectly, we always appreciate your input in the construction of our new weapon.

Seventeen

They let him out of cryo after what they tell him is four weeks.  When he looks down at himself, he can’t see his ribs or the sharp definition of his hipbones anymore.  They make sure he can stand, that he can punch, that he can shoot a gun.  They work on the strength of the punch.  Zola is angry that it’s been weakened.

The hunger strike was a stupid idea, it was too much like what Steve would have done, and Bucky would never be Steve, or be with Steve, no matter how much he would like to.

His body is littered with burn marks from the shocks they gave him when he wouldn’t eat, and Bucky winces at the memory of the pain, the memory of his body seizing up and being outside his control.  He supposes he should be used to the out-of-control thing by now, but he isn’t, he can’t, because then he’d really have lost.

Bucky hates cryo, he hates cryo almost more than he hates the mind wipe, because at least when his mind was wiped he could still dream.  They couldn’t control what he dreamed about, and they didn’t know what he dreamed about.  Rather, they never asked him what he dreamed about, therefore they didn’t know.

Bucky thinks about his last dream, the one where he and Steve were on a beach somewhere.  Not the Northeast, somewhere tropical, maybe California.  They have their toes in the sand and Steve remarks that the sand is so hot here, how do people walk on sand this hot?

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola breaks him out of his thoughts, “Tell me why you stopped eating.”

Bucky looks up at him, he’s so tired.  He doesn’t want to fight anymore but he has to, the skinny little kid from Brooklyn with blue eyes and a blinding smile would want him to.

“When I was seventeen my family couldn’t afford food for the week,” the words pour out of him of their own volition, and he’s too tired to stop them, “Dad was out of work, we were desperate.  Steve and his mom brought over dinner and made us keep the leftovers.  It was a pot roast, best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to be a weapon.  I don’t want to be your weapon.”

Zola leans back and considers him.  A smile spreads across his face.

“What you want doesn’t matter.  It never did.”

Bucky wants to hit him with the weapon on his left.  He wants it more than anything.  But he can’t.  He’s not allowed.  He really just is a lapdog for them now.

Zola adds a word the next day: Seventeen.

June 15, 1945

General,

It has been noted recently that Barnes is unwilling to lash out or attack any combatants that fit the following profile: blond, blue eyes, male.  Zola has insisted this weakness is an asset in his reprogramming and that it will not last.  We have brought in two soldiers that match this profile at Zola’s request, I will report any findings.

Daybreak

He’s not Steve, Bucky tells himself over and over as the handsome blond solider smiles at him when he brings him his dinner.  They open the door now, just so Bucky can see the man clearly, just so he can see his smile and the slight edge to his light blue eyes.  They’re lighter than Steve’s but something in Bucky simply doesn’t care anymore.  The eyes were wrong but they were something he could cling to.  The hair was just a shade too dark but it reminded him of a different time.  The smile was just a little too wide, but he remembered one that was a little softer, a little more slanted.

“I remember watching the sun rise in Germany during the war,” Bucky tells Zola blankly in their meeting that day, so used to the stab of the needle in his skin that he doesn’t even feel it, “Steve told me his favorite time of day was this early in the morning, right at daybreak.  He told me that before, too, before he was Captain America, but we got to just sit quietly and watch it, watch the colors.  I don’t remember them.”

“Very good,” Zola stands, beckoning to the blond solider to take Bucky to his next assignment.

Bucky walks along silently, head held high as he approaches the cage, where a larger soldier is waiting for him, outfitted head to toe in combat gear.  Shouldn’t be a problem.

“Soldat,” Zola stares through the bars of the combat cage minutes later, where Bucky has paused, fist raised above the quivering man in front of him, “Don’t hesitate, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your audience.”

Bucky looks over to Zola, the blond soldier who smiled at him the night before is watching.

Zola’s right, he can’t disappoint him.

“New word,” Zola mutters as Bucky straightens up, shaking his hand to get rid of the red on the metal knuckles, “Daybreak.”

July 4, 1945

General,

Barnes had an unfortunate breakthrough during today’s training.  He seemed to remember something from prior to his fall and was unable to complete the mission set in front of him.  I am becoming frustrated with Zola, he insists that this is all part of the process, that to break a man down there will be moments of pure weakness, but Barnes is looking less and less like the man we thought he was.

Furnace

Steve is the only thing he thinks of when he has a clear mind anymore.

He doesn’t remember little details of his memory anymore, but he remembers Steve.  He doesn’t remember his birthday, but he knows when Steve’s is.  He doesn’t remember the smell of spring in Central Park, but he remembers the way Steve wore newspapers in his shoes.  No matter what, he knows Steve.

Zola knows this, he uses it against him.  Every day, the talks get longer, the punishments get more painful, and the amount of times he’s wiped go up.

“Tell me a memory,” it feels like Zola’s asked this a thousand times now.

“Steve’s furnace in his building broke last winter.  We had him over for two weeks until the landlord could be bothered to fix it.  Mom loves him so much, she would have him around all the time if he’d let her.  He always thinks he can do everything himself.”

“You speak of him as if he’s here.  Why?”

“I don’t know.”

That’s the truth.

Zola adds Furnace to the list of Bucky’s words.  He can feel himself slipping away every time they’re uttered.

August 12, 1945

General,

Thank you for your visit last week.  Your insight into our project is much appreciated.  I agree that we must continue to press on, we have no put so much man power and energy into the project it would be a shame to shut it down now.  Zola believes that we are close to a breakthrough, despite occasional noncompliance by Barnes.

Nine

It’s starting to get harder and harder to fight against the constant onslaught of change they were forcing on his mind.

He can’t dream anymore, so the cryo chamber at least lets him rest, because the only dreams he has are dark and shadowy.  He’s losing his already tenuous grip on himself, his memories becoming indistinct, with only a few bright spots left to cling to in his mind.

“Tell me a memory.”

It takes him a second to think of one.  He cowers as Zola stands over him.

“When I was nine we went on a field trip to the Met.  Steve made me read all the little cards next to the paintings, even though it made us lag behind everyone else.”

“Do you still think of him?”

Always.

“No.”

“Good.  Add Nine.”

September 1, 1945

General,

Zola chose to move forward with giving Barnes the news of Steve Rogers’ death last week.  So far, it has proven an excellent tactic in breaking his resolve.  After an initial disruption in his usual pattern of behavior (consisting of a violent outburst that left his entire holding cell destroyed followed by a complete emotional collapse), Barnes has been much more compliant in the process.

I believe we may be close to a breakthrough.

Benign

Bucky has been unmade, strand by strand, bit by bit, atom by atom, he has been unmade and put back together for the purposes of following orders, of being a human weapon of mass destruction.  There has been so much pain in his unmaking, so much unrelenting physical and mental pain from being ripped apart and put back together over and over and over again.

And yet, none of that pain was like the pain of knowing that Steve Rogers was dead.

Bucky would take it all over again, spend a thousand lifetimes in this room, in the cell, in the combat cage, in the cryo chamber, having his mind wiped like a problem on a chalkboard just so he could unlearn that Steve was dead.

Zola is the one that tells him.  He shows him a newspaper in English, then Russian, then German, all with the same headline: Captain America Dead!

Bucky feels like a feather caught in a windstorm, torn to shreds by the whipping downdraft of mother nature’s power, by the power of his own grief.

Bucky knows better than to move while Zola is in the room, but the second that he leaves, the rage, red, blind, hot, overtakes him, and he uses the weapon attached to him, which has become a part of him, to destroy everything he can.  The metal table, reinforced with steel, comes apart like wet paper in his hand.  He destroys the sink, leaving nothing but powdered ceramic and plumbing hookups behind.  He gouges marks into the walls with his fingers, he slams his arm onto the floor.  And then?  He collapses in the middle of the cold metal room with his cold metal arm, just a cold metal soldier who’s lost the only reason he wanted to get out of here, to stay who he was.

“Come on Buck, we don’t have to do this.”

“When was the last time we snuck into a Dodgers game?  It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Steve rolls his eyes, pausing as they waited to cross the street to cough into his jacket.  Bucky, almost subconsciously pats his jacket pockets.  Good, he’s got an extra one of Steve’s inhalers in case it’s a bad night for his asthma.

“Come on Steve,” Bucky nudges his shoulder as they approach the stadium, “I know it’s been hard recently, but hey, at least we have baseball.”

Steve laughs at that, and gives Bucky an almost radiant smile.  Whatever it was, it makes Bucky feel like he has the sun in his chest.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a date,” Steve jokes as they sneak in behind an older couple, heading up to their favorite spot to watch the game.

“Who says it isn’t?” Bucky is glad his face is hidden in shadow as they make their way up the stairs of the stadium to the very back row, “But don’t think I’m gonna buy you a hotdog or anything.”

“Come on, what kind of girl pays for her own hotdog?” Steve winks at him, and Bucky can’t hide his wide smile at the words that settle themselves right in the middle of his beating heart.

“Soldat.  Stand up,” Zola’s voice comes through the speaker, and Bucky can’t comply, he tries, but he’s crushed by the weight of the loss of Steve Rogers, the only person that could pull him out of this, that could undo the work of HYDRA that had been inflicted on his mind and body.

He hears the stomping of boots outside the door, but he still can’t stand, he still can’t make himself be the good lapdog he’s supposed to be.  He’s broken, empty, unusable, unloveable.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, not even thinking about fighting as the soldiers pull him up to standing.

Zola’s voice comes over the little speaker they have in the room, the one that Bucky couldn’t reach to rip to pieces.

“Next word: Benign”

October 29, 1945

General,

Zola had a long conversation with Barnes today.  The loss of Steve Rogers is still affecting him.  Zola tells me he has a plan, that our work is almost finished.

Homecoming

They take him to the combat cage again.  There’s someone waiting for him.

“We have a test for you today,” Zola swings the door open, and he sees that it’s the blond soldier who reminds him of Steve, tied up and bound and already bloody.

Bucky takes a step forward, staring at the terrified man.  He feels something, he can’t identify what it is.

“Tell me a memory.”

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of the soldier as he speaks.

“When Steve brought us back from the HYDRA base, they called it our homecoming.  I wasn’t used to him yet, him being taller than me, being okay with being the center of attention.  I wasn’t used to him being different.  But sometimes I saw flashes of the old Steve, when he looked at me, when he was drawing on a scrap of a napkin, when he made a joke that everyone laughed at.  And then, sometimes I thought he forgot about me.  He didn’t need me anymore.”

He looks down at the soldier.

“Kill him, soldat,” Zola tells him, “You don’t need him.  You never did.”

The cowering blond soldier might as well be Steve, Bucky can’t tell the difference anymore.  He snaps his neck anyway, pretending that he doesn’t feel the shattered remains of his heart split just a little bit more.

“New word: Homecoming.”

December 15, 1945

General,

Only a few more weeks I believe, Barnes has become more and more compliant, completing missions with ease and without hesitation.  We put him in front of a live target yesterday, the man captured at the border three weeks ago.  Barnes did not even seem to hear his pleas, even though we have been assured he can hear and understand them.

One

He kills easily now.  He does it without thinking.

“Tell me a memory.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Good.  Add One.”

January 23, 1946

General,

Congratulations.  The asset is ready to begin service.

Freight Car

The Winter Solider does not hesitate.  He does not disobey orders.  He pulls the trigger as easy as breathing.  He’s a ghost story, a legend, the new fist of HYDRA.

Zola speaks to him, he answers.  A soldier speaks to him, he answers.

“There is one last word to add,” Zola tells him, walking around where he stands, straight, like a steel rod.  He’s more metal than man now, anyway, “Tell me about the day you fell.”

“I ziplined onto a freight car.  I took out the targets.  I fell.  I was found by HYDRA.”

Steve was there.  He tried to save me.  We joked about Coney Island.  I miss him, I wish I was with him.  I wish I had died when I fell.  I wish I could just be Bucky.  I don’t want to be a weapon, I just want to be Bucky.

“Very good, soldat.  Final word: Freight Car.”

As each word is read, Bucky departs his mind, taken over by The Winter Solider.  Each word takes away a layer of memory, a layer of who he was, who he had fought so hard to stay.  Now it doesn’t take weeks of time, or months, to unmake him.  All it takes is ten words, ten words that connect him completely to Bucky Barnes, yet somehow, ten words that remove him altogether.

Zola finishes the list.  Bucky Barnes is long, long gone.

“Ready to comply.”

[reluctant-mandalore]

Chilly Cuddles (Paz Vizsla x Reader)

Masterlist || Request ||  900 Followers Celebration

Word Count: 2506

Warnings: Cuddlessss. Lots of fluff, and pinning. But not too much. Its mostly fluff y’all. Also not beta read. grammar? never heard of it

a/n: Hey everyone! I’m back at it again with the late night publishing lol. Anyway, here is the first installment to the 900 Followers Celebration! This is also my first time writing for Paz!! I hope you all enjoy <3 

Edits: the usual spelling and stuff.

 The night air had chilled you to the bones and made you shiver with every breeze that caressed across your form. The metal of the ship was icy to the touch, as it sent goosebumps to rise upon your skin. Frost could be seen already forming on the ship's few windows, making delicate and elegant designs for all to see. 

 Paz had just finished shutting the last hatch to the snowy outdoors, causing for a few stray snowflakes to flow into the ship’s hull. One of the lone flakes had settled itself on your nose, melting at the contact, and sending for another shudder to roll down your spine. While he prepared the ship for the night, you had stood watching him, wrapped in a thick blanket to try and keep warm. The fabric clung tightly to your form, only providing a little relief from the cold as you continued to shiver and quiver in your spot. 

The ship’s heating system wasn’t working like it used to, and honestly it hadn’t worked well for a long time. This hadn’t seemed like a problem to you, or to the larger Mandalorian, when you had both first left on your journey. It wasn’t like you two had planned to make an emergency stop on a frozen wasteland planet, while the said planet was in the middle of suffering through a deadly blizzard. 

“You know it won’t be that bad, and it’s just to stay warm.” You had spoken in between the chattering of your teeth, as you tried your best to argue with your stubborn companion, “You can keep your helmet on and everything if you want.”

“No.” He had said quickly, tittering on the edge of sounding harsh with his tone. “We’re not sharing a cot to stay warm, there’s no need to.” 

A pout had crossed your features at his reply, making him look away in fear of crumbling to your pleading gaze, “No need? It’s literally freezing and the ship can’t produce any heat!” 

“I know for a fact that you have at least five blankets in your own cot.” He had scoffed, a roll of his eyes following, as he thought back to all the blankets he had left for you not too long ago.  “You’ll be fine. ” 

“It’s still freezing even with all the blankets!” You said in a desperate tone, moving closer towards the much larger individual, who had stiffened at your approaching form, “Come on Paz, us sharing a cot for one night won’t kill you. Please?”

“No.” He had tried more firmly, though he and you both knew his resolve was beginning to chip away bit by bit. He had a hard time saying no to you on a good day and tended to melt like putty into your hands on a bad one. Everyone, including him and you, knew this to be fact. The only person who could ever bring Paz Vizsla crumbling to his knees was you, and that was a fact.

“I know you’re cold too,” You had continued, seeing your victory in the argument just a few seconds away. While taking another step forward, you grasped one of his gloved hands in your own, causing his head to snap over to look down your now entwined hands. Two of your fingers had soon slid themselves underneath his wrist gauntlet, pressing against his own skin, which had felt like ice beneath your warmer finger tips. “Paz you’re so cold! How are you not frozen solid?” 

“That’s just because of the armor,” He managed to get out through his panicked mind. He had ripped his hand away from you, as his heart began to beat at a rapid pace from feeling your skin against his own. “We don’t need to share a cot to stay warm! Now stop bothering me about it.” 

A frown spread across your face, and a look of hurt had crossed your eyes from his sudden outburst. The words which you had wanted to say had died on your tongue, and you chewed at your bottom lip, clearly upset with having him yell at you in anger. Even if you knew you had probably deserved from hounding him for the majority of the day.  

  The pained look you wore had sent a tumble of regret to flow through Paz. His own heart clenching, as he realized he had hurt your feelings with his outburst. He hated seeing you so upset, especially if he was the one who had caused it in the first place. Something which he did more often than he wanted to admit. 

“Ok. I won’t force you.” You had finally muttered out, as another shiver trembled through your chilled state. Knowing you had upset him, you decided it would be best to leave him alone for the rest of the night. Turning to leave, you had paused briefly on your escape to the cockpit, looking back at him while trying to shove your frown away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry for overstepping any boundaries. I just thought it was a good idea... that’s all. I won’t bother you again tonight.”

 A ping of guilt had nibbled in the pit of his stomach as he watched you leave. He hadn’t meant to yell at you in the slightest. He was just horrible with controlling and addressing his own feelings towards you. The idea of the two of you sharing a cot was actually a pleasant one to him. He had known he liked you for some time now, and he had been trying to find reasons to get closer with you. So, being presented with the prospect of sharing a cot with you should have made him jump at the chance to say yes. Although, clearly, it instead had made him fearful and down right nervous. 

Paz may usually act like a tough and confident person, but when it came to these types of things he was clumsy and shy. When it came to you, his confident self melted away into that of a bashful man. He really did struggle when it came to facing his feelings surrounding your relationship.

After making his way up to the cockpit as well, he had watched silently as you continued to shake from the cold. Hearing him enter you had spared a glance over your shoulder at him, your face still possessing a frown, before you returned to your messing with the ship’s heating dial. 

Paz had sighed seeing this, sending a distorted noise to sound from his helmet as he watched your pitiful attempt at trying to warm the ship. “Fine.” 

“What?”

“We can share my cot, but only this once and never again.” He had finished, trying to sound his usual confident self.

Hearing his words had made you replace your frown with a wide grin, and he had let out another sigh at the sight of it. “Thank you Paz!” You had said quickly, popping up from your spot in the pilot chair, before dashing off to get the remaining blankets from your own cot to bring to his. 

When you had eventually entered his room, you had initially paused staring at his cot for the moment. As you did, a sudden flush of heat had washed over you at the thought of sharing such a tiny space with the person of your affections. An exciting and anxious idea all in one. 

Shaking your embarrassed thoughts away, you settled yourself into the nest of blankets that you had accumulated for the two of you, waiting for your traveling companion to join you in the piled warmth. 

Paz had entered his room the same way he did any other night, his footsteps loud in the quiet room, as he moved about the small space. He paused briefly when he caught sight of you tucked away under the sheets, and felt his stomach knot when his eyes had met your own. He had soon felt himself warm underneath his armored layers, happy he had them to hide his heated expression from your gaze, turning to focus on getting himself ready for bed as a distraction.  

“Do we really need that many blankets?” He had asked quietly, his voice wavering slightly through the modulator of his helmet. 

 An audible click had sounded throughout the darkened room, as he had begun to remove his armor. The realization of his undressing had fallen upon you and with a small gasp you had ducked to hide beneath the warm layers. The sight of you doing so had made the Mandalorian amused, and he felt himself smile before turning back to working on removing his heavier layers. 

 Paz truly didn’t mind if you saw him remove all his armor, it wasn’t like he was getting naked or removing his helmet. It wasn’t even the first time you would be seeing him in his underclothes, and admittedly, he had secretly enjoyed the idea of being able to show off his muscled figure to you. His large and beefy frame was something he always took pride in. 

“Yes.” You had finally managed to croak out in response from underneath the blankets shielding your eyes, the sound of your own voice laced with both underlying nerves and tiredness. 

“I can still sleep somewhere else.” The winter air sent a visible shiver to crawl down his spine as he spoke, his armor now gone, with only his helmet and underclothing remaining in place. The words leaving him had been soft and gentle, concern for you evident when he had turned to look towards where you laid in the cot. 

A small smile spread across your face at hearing him so worried for your well being, and you peaked from under the thick sheets to meet his gaze once more. Seeing him stand awkwardly near the edge of the cot, while still shivering, had made your grin widen, “And let you freeze? Not a chance big guy.”  

Lifting up the blankets slightly, you had patted the cot, motioning for him to join you in the pile of blankets. Seeing this had finally made him make his way to join you, the cot dipping slightly with his added weight, as he settled himself into the nest of blankets. 

Compared to you, Paz was huge and took up the majority of the cot on his own. This in turn had made the space cramped, with your backs pressed flushed together as you both tried to doze off. The added heat from his own body had instantly eased you, and soon your eyes were heavy with the need to sleep. 

Feeling his overflowing warmth, you couldn’t resist the need to feel more of it, and you had soon rolled over to bury your face into his back. The tip of your chilled nose had suddenly been engulfed with his heady scent, and you pressed yourself closer wanting more of his intoxicating presence to consume you while drifting off to dreamland. 

 Paz had stiffened when he first felt you nuzzle yourself into him, but soon he had relaxed at the contact, a small tired sound leaving him. Having you so close to him had made his heart beat like crazy again, and had even allowed his subsiding flush of warmth to reappear full force.  

“Thank you Paz,” You had said suddenly, with your voice muffled from having your face pressed so tightly into him. “I know I’m not always the easiest person to put up with, so thank you.” 

Managing to get out your last tired thoughts to him, you had begun to be lulled to sleep from his added warmth. Paz had then abruptly rolled over to face you instead. His movement making you whine at having been disturbed from your brief slumber, your eyes cracking open to stare at him with confusion. 

  He had chuckled in return, the sound of the deep rumbling from him causing for another warm heat to wash over your form again, as you had suddenly felt shy. His fingers now moving to lightly brush against your cheek, as if he was admiring your features in the darkness. While peering deep into your eyes, he had moved so that the cool metal of his forehead pressed gently onto your own. The gesture had caused for your own eyes to widen, and you had felt yourself become even more confused, but overjoyed by his sudden boldness. 

 The forehead press had felt like it lasted an entirety to you, but it was only a few more seconds before he had moved back once more to admire your beauty. Paz had rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip, the desire to kiss pooling into both your minds as he did. Even if you both were aware of the helmet blocking such a thing from happening, the need to feel each other’s lips against one another was still ever present within your den of blankets. 

“Lift your head.” 

Pulled out of your thoughts from his sudden words, tiredly you had done as he asked. Soon lifting your head from its place on the pillow almost subconsciously, while still distracted from his earlier affections. His one arm had then slid itself underneath your head, effectively providing itself as a pillow while he managed to pull you closer to him with a simple tug of his other free hand. His arm keeping you held tight into his board chest, now enveloping you completely into his strong embrace. 

 Paz’s thick scent had filled your nostrils once more, as your head fit perfectly into his neck, your warm breath ghosting over his exposed skin. His fingers had trailed longingly against your spin, as he continued to press your body into his own. His larger and muscled legs had now entangled themselves with yours, one of them fitting themselves over your hip, successfully trapping you in place. Both your bodies had fit together like they were meant to be that way, almost as if they were perfectly made for one another. It was like you two were meant to be forever entwined in this way. 

The coldness you had once felt was now long gone, far from your mind as you completely relaxed into his grasp. At this point your own arm had slithered across his broad chest and around his waist. The feeling of him had felt firm beneath your touch, like solid stone that would not budge through any storm, and you hugged onto him even tighter, not wanting to ever let go. 

“See?” You had said just above a whisper, making your lips lightly brush against the exposed skin of his shoulder, almost as if you had pressed a chaste kiss to it. “Sharing a cot was a great idea.” 

“Go to sleep.” He had grunted out, the small smile he wore under the helmet evident in his voice, “We have a long day tomorrow.” 

A sweet hum left you in response and for once you had listened to him without question. A small smile still playing on your lips, as you allowed yourself to succumb to your tired state while tightly wrapped in his warm embrace. The chilly night now far from both your muddled minds, as you both settled into the first of many nights spent in each other's arms.

---

Tags: 

@ah-callie @starrywatermelon @readsalot73 @karnita-mexicana @a-seeker-of-imagination​

[oboevallis]

who is he pt 2

i have a lot of prompts and second parts i need to get out, so don’t think ive forgot about them. thanks for all the support and i hope everyone’s doing well and staying safe!!

“Mommy?” Scout asked as he hoisted himself up on the kitchen islands chair. “Can I play softball?”

“That’s gonna be a no.” Amelia answered as she was cutting up carrots to put into his lunch box.

“Come on why?”

“It’s dangerous, I don’t want you cracking your head open.”

“How about soccer?”

“Still dangerous but a bit better.” Amelia anxiously closed the tabs on the Tupperware. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“So that’s a never?”

“I promise we will talk about this, but we’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on.” The neurosurgeon threw her sons lunch box into his book bag and zipped it up handing it to him, ushering him out the door.

______________________________________

“Oh hey, Meredith. I have a question for you how did you accept that Ellis wanted to play soccer? Scouts been asking to play a sport and soccer seems the most moderate.” Amelia addressed her sister as she walked into the lounge.

“Link’s here.” Meredith ripped off the bandaid. “He’s doing a surgery with Koracick, Koracick wanted the best.”

“He could’ve called anyone else.” Amelia sighed, stressfully running a hand through her hair. “How could Tom do this, he’s my best friend.”

“It’s really sad that man is your best friend.”

“Shut up Meredith.” Amelia went over to her cubby taking her scrubs off.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t stay here if he’s here.” Amelia sighed digging through her bag for her causal clothes. “Who the hell does Koracick think he is inviting him here? He could’ve called Torres she’s good.” She aggressively pulled her pants up when her breath hitched when the door opened revealing Link and Tom. She was frozen in place before she realized she had no shirt on, and quickly scrambled to throw it on.

“It’s nice to see you Dr Shepherd.” Link charmingly smiled.

“Likewise Dr Lincoln.” Amelia quickly said before exiting the attendings lounge.

“Amelia!” A voice called behind her.

“Can I help you?” She asked turning around, struggling to contain eye contact with the man.

“How are you?”

“Oh I’m dandy, how about yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m assuming the kid with you at the baseball game is your son, he’s a cute kid.”

“I’m aware.” The neurosurgeon said before quickly turning around to get away from the man.

“Can we get a cup of coffee?” He called as she continued to walk.

“No thanks!” She called back.

______________________________________

“Would you mind taking my kids back to your place? My sitter fell through and their in my office.” Meredith approached her sister who was leaning over the nurses station engrossed in a chart.

“Yeah sure, I was just about to get Scout from daycare.”

“Your a life safer.” Meredith patted her sisters shoulder before quickly leaving. She first stopped off at Merediths office to collect Bailey and Ellis, as Zola was already old enough to be at the house alone. The then trio walked down to daycare.

“I’ll be right back.” She told the children who refused to step into the daycare now that they were big kids.

“Link!” Bailey smiled when he spotted the man.

“Bailey.” Link hesitantly walked over, he didn’t know how Amelia or Meredith would react if they found out about this. “How are you doing?”

“Yeah I’m doing well, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile.” The man played with the skin around his nail, a habit he picked up from his former girlfriend.

“The Mariners are doing great this season, you think they’re gonna make it to the World Series?”

“I hope so. They’re on a roll so far.”

“Have you seen the new marvel movie?” He missed the man who was like an uncle to him. They were very close, while his relationship with his aunt had lasted.

“I haven’t gotten to yet, the Mariner players are breaking bones left and right.” Link chuckled, these last couple of years he had committed everything to the team.

“Scout what happened to your eye?” Ellis asked, she had been pretty uninterested in the conversation so she didn’t mind breaking it up.

“At recess I was playing soccer and fell and the ball was right next to my head and someone kicked my head instead of the ball.”

“Well that’s definitely a penalty.” Ellis joked.

“We have to go guys.” Amelia tried to stay as civil as possible, but was pissed Link was talking to the kids. She knew Bailey missed him, but thought he had more sense than to start up a conversation with him. She ushered the kids along, before Link stopped her.

“Wait.”

“What?” She snapped turning around, she hadn’t meant to, she was upset about the school not telling her that Scout got hurt, that her son got hurt in the first place, and now that Link was here.

“Can we please talk?”

“I’d rather not.”

________________________________________

“Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?” Amelia carefully placed an ice pack on his eye causing him to wince.

“Why was the baseball doctor at the hospital today?”

“Dr Tom needed his help.”

“How did Bailey and Ellis know him?”

“Well he used to work at the hospital, it’s kinda like how you know Dr Tom, Dr Winston, Dr Carina, it’s just like that.”

“He seemed pretty cool.” Amelia simply hummed in response, she prayed he wouldn’t make the connection that he was his father. “Was he your friend?”

“Yeah, kinda. Now we’ve gotta get you to bed.”

“Auntie Mer isn’t here yet, so are we sleeping here tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re here for the night.”

______________________________________

The neurosurgeon tiredly sighed as she collapsed into the couch. It was easier to put Meredith’s kids to bed now they were older, but her son hated sleeping in places that weren’t his own bed, and it was always a fight to put him to sleep. She assumed Zola was still up though, now that she was a teenager Meredith was lax on her sleep schedule. A knock at the door chasing her to groan. It was close to 11 at night, she assumed it was Maggie and she forgot her key and has three jugs of milk because she had a fight with Winston.

“What are you doing here?” She groaned as she opened the door revealing Link.

“I wanted to talk.”

“About?”

“About life, us.”

“There is no us.”

“Only because you made it that way.”

“Yeah, whatever Link.”

“Come on, I messed up. But you could’ve told me he was mine.”

“Who said he was yours?”

“Well you named him Scout, and Meredith told me.”

“Did she?” Amelia rolled her eyes, pissed at her sister. “Anyway it wouldn’t have mattered, you’d only be there for Scout and not me.”

“Amelia how could you be that selfish?”

“How was I being selfish?”

“You’ve been keeping him from me, and Meredith says he’s been asking.”

“I don’t know why Meredith is telling you anything.”

“Please Amelia, we both screwed up. But it wouldn’t have mattered if he was mine or not I would’ve loved him and you.”

“Sure didn’t seem like that.”

“I haven’t stopped loving you, I haven’t felt the things you made me feel with anyone else. Your the only person I’ve truly loved.”

“Seems really convenient to saying this now that you know he’s your kid.” Amelia walked back inside and shut the door. “Bye Link.” She let a couple of tears run down her cheek before she sucked them up, and walked upstairs to check on the kids. Zola was in her former room engrossed on her phone, Bailey in his attic room with Scout on the floor, and Ellis in Maggie’s former room.

“Amelia are you here?” She heard a voice from downstairs and saw Maggie.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered while cautiously walking down the stairs.

“Meredith got pulled into another surgery so I offered to come by, so you and Scout can sleep in your own beds.”

“Mer just didn’t want to see me because she knew I’d kill her.” Amelia crossed her arms, giving Maggie her mom look.

“She really does feel bad.”

“No she doesn’t. She always thought it was wrong I didn’t tell Link.”

“Yeah, she really thinks she’s right.”

“Of course she does she’s Mer, she does no wrong.” Maggie chuckled at the accuracy. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

“I don’t know. I know Scout wants to know his dad, and Link wants a chance to be a dad. But I also know all you want is for your kid to be loved and you’ve done a great job with him, and you just want to protect him.” Amelia embraced her sister in a hug, before reluctantly letting go.

“I don’t know what to do. Link came by today, and he called me selfish. Do you think I’m being selfish?”

“I think your trying to protect your kid.”

“I just want him to be loved.”

“I know, and he is. He has a village of people, no matter what you decide.”

________________________________________

Amelia heavily sighed, it’d been a week since Link had showed up on Merediths doorstep. It had been all she was able to think about. She patted her phone across her palm, debating whether or not she should call him.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I’m not sure, what do you want?” She patted the spot on the couch next to her.

“Pizza?” The small boy suggested.

“We had pizza the other night. What about chicken and rice?”

“Just don’t burn the chicken.” Scout smiled while he said it. Amelia playfully rolled her eyes as she stood up.

“Why don’t you help, to insure that doesn’t happen?” After the pair had dinner, she helped her son get ready for bed. Leaving her alone once he fell asleep, and contemplating whether or not she should call her former boyfriend. She impulsively clicked the call button, and immediately regretted it but it was too late.

“Amelia?”

“Hey, Link. I-I umm, Scout has been asking about his dad. And I know I’ve hurt you, but maybe we can arrange something?”

“Of course I’d really appreciate that.”

“Okay, umm how do you want to do this?”

“I think we should both be there first off, and what does he like to do?”

“He loves the outdoors, he really enjoys when we go hiking or to the zoo.”

“Okay, how about Mt Rainer?”

“Sounds like we would be stuck with each other on a mountain for a whole day. Why don’t we just go to the zoo?”

“Sounds good. Friday?”

“Friday.”

“I’m sorry I called you selfish. I didn’t mean it.”Amelia abruptly hung up her phone.

[fritae]

The Missing Piece (Chapter 8)

Anxiety.

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x female oc, lov, other original characters

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

I'm sure Mr. Lane has seen me.

With a groan, I take Dabi aside.

"You can go ahead, sir." I tell him quickly, glancing behind me to see if they're watching me.

Dabi looks over my shoulder.

"Is that what's-his-face?"

I shoot Dabi a look and gesture toward Aliyah. We may be friends but I didn't tell her the real reason I left NNTV. She thinks work became too stressful and I needed a break.

She doesn't know about the argument me and Mr. Lane had after I discovered his support of the Todorokis. Or about his cutting my salary and threatening to fire me.

Besides, bad mouthing a former employer is horrible professionalism.

"It's Mr. Lane. Go, go," I try shoo-ing him away. "I'll see you tomorrow sir."

But Dabi doesn't budge.

His eyes are trained on mine.

"I don't like that look on your face."

I groan. "What look? Sir it's just-"

"Like you're uncomfortable."

The comment catches me off guard and I quickly avert my gaze.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I say quietly. "These are my friends."

But that only seems to make him more determined. Dabi turns to face me completely, his feet firmly planted in the ground and his hands tucked coolly in the pockets of his pants. He doesn't look interested in listening right now.

"What are you worried about?" He asks. "Is it him?"

I run an anguished hand through my hair. "Sir please. Please. What happened to not asking about our private matters?"

I don't want Dabi and Mr. Lane meeting. Especially considering how our last conversation went. I didn't tell Mr. Lane I was working for the Blaze, and considering how salty he was that I left after all these years, facing him once again fills me with anxiety.

"Alright I won't ask you," Dabi ignores me. "I'll find out from him."

My eyes widen and I pull him back before he could make his way toward Mr. Lane. Aliyah went to bring Mr. Lane to say hi. I feel my chest get tighter when I see him getting closer.

"See? I don't like that." Dabi eyes me with concern. He tsks and pulls a box from his back pocket. He tries to hand me a cigarette but I shake my head quickly.

Mr. Lane doesn't know I smoke.

And with the amount of anxiety pooling in my gut, it wouldn't even help.

Dabi shrugs, no longer facing me.

"I'm here," He says. The ice in his voice from earlier is gone. I look at him once more before Mr. Lane gets within earshot.

He gives me a small nod and reaches for me, his hand brushing against the small of my back in a way that sends electricity up my spine. "He's not your boss anymore. He has no power over you."

I nod and plaster a fake smile on my face as the short man approaches us.

I hope it's enough to hide my thundering heart.

"Ms. Aoki," His voice sounds as insufferable as ever. "Fancy meeting you here."

I nod my head in respect. "Mr. Lane. It's nice to see you so soon."

As if!

But already, his attention is off of me. Instead, he eyes Dabi up and down.

"Is this your partner?" He asks.

My face heats up immediately. "Oh - no sir. This is my, um - my new boss. Mr. Dabi?"

Just as I expected, Mr. Lane's expression darkens immediately.

I expect Dabi to extend a hand out for formalities. But his hands remains in his pockets. He merely gives him a nod in acknowledgement.

"So you've found a new company after all." Mr. Lane comments coldly.

"Yes. Yes sir."

"What's the name of your company, Mr. Dabi?"

"The Blaze." Dabi says. "I do luxury trading. Rina told me she previously worked for a broadcasting company - what was it called again?"

Mr. Lane's face hardens. "NNTV. We're a leading force in the industry-"

"Right, right. That company that always underperforms?" He asks apologetically.

Me and Aliyah gasp, glancing cautiously at Mr. Lane.

"I have a friend that works at CBS, you see."

There's a smile on Dabi's face.

"I haven't even heard of your company," Mr. Lane quickly counters, evil in his eyes. "When Ms. Aoki abandoned us in such a manner, I assumed she'd join a better known business."

"I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us," Dabi sighs, that same mocking tone in his voice. "You see, we cater to a highly exclusive audience."

Aliyah mouth drops behind Mr. Lane, looking extremely amused. I wouldn't be surprised if this becomes the subject of tomorrow's lunchtime gossip.

"I see," Mr. Lane smiles at Dabi but it is anything but friendly. "Anyway. Careful with this one." He tells Dabi. "She's loyal to the - " He rubs his fingers to his thumb to indicate money. "It doesn't matter how well you treat her, if she finds a better offer she'll run off on you. Looking at you now," Mr. Lane sizes him up. "it probably won't take long."

I didn't leave because of money you piece of shit! If you actually saw me as a person, you'd know that!

I feel Aliyah's eyes on me in surprise.

Great.

Now she thinks I'm making more money and keeping things from her.

I don't face her.

"Hm," Dabi says. "What do you define as a better offer? Because we certainly don't pay-"

Don't say that! I think frantically.

I clear my throat.

Dabi looks at me quizzically. But he understands soon enough.

"...her what she's worth. With how well she's driven up sales this past month, she certainly deserves every penny."

"With all due respect," Mr. Lane smiles apologetically, venom lacing his words. "A secretary who intervenes in your business, gives unsolicited advice, and tries to control decision making is not worth her price. There are many other qualified secretaries who will drive up sales, and do it better than she can."

I feel my heart fall.

Of course he would say that.

Mr. Lane thinks of me as disloyal now. Leaving NNTV so suddenly after all these years, I knew it would matter more to him than he let on during our last meeting.

He doesn't exactly tolerate betrayal. And being his secretary for so long, I've seen how he treats former employees enough to know how vicious he can be.

That's why I didn't want him and Dabi to meet.

My face reddens immensely at the mention of my frequent "interventions" and "unsolicited advice". Because Mr. Lane doesn't believe in teams, he believes in workers who do as they're told. That's it.

But considering how much Dabi cares about his space, the comment fills me with anxiety.

Especially given the conversation we had today.

Will he think this is a pattern now? Will it drive him further away from me - cause his lack of trust in me to balloon even more?

There's an uncomfortable feeling in my gut as my mind questions all these possibilities. I wish Aliyah hadn't seen me.

No.

I wish I just told Dabi I was busy when he asked me for dinner. I hesitantly glance at him, searching for any indication of how he's receiving this.

There's embarrassment written all over my face.

However, Dabi's expression doesn't change. He remains aloof.

Although on closer inspection, I think I see his jaw clench.

I feel my eyes water. Is he angry with me?

He should be.

Perhaps I am too talkative and opinionated for a secretary.

But Dabi's response makes me furrow my brows in confusion.

"She was a member of your team. Of course she would advise you. And intervene as necessary."

My eyes widen.

"It's as much her company as it is mine, so I do hope she does more of that for us in the future."

I look at Dabi in surprise, trying to figure him out. Doesn't he hate it when people intervene in his business though? Is he just saying this in front of Mr. Lane?

That's gotta be it.

Regardless, I'm grateful that he hasn't thrown me under the bus, using me as conversation material. Anyone else would happily listen and even share their own criticism of me to keep the conversation going. Especially considering Mr. Lane is realistically the more powerful CEO of the two. Anyone would say anything to get on his good side.

And part of me feels like Mr. Lane used me in order to shift to Dabi's good side too. After all, what manager doesn't love critiquing his employees?

Only Dabi didn't take the bait.

"I suppose I should thank you actually," Dabi continues, the height difference only further emphasizing the power imbalance in the conversation. Mr. Lane looks small for the first time ever, as he stands there looking up at Dabi. "If you hadn't let her go, our company wouldn't be in the place it is today. She's extremely capable, as you know. And such an agreeable team player, as well."

But instead of responding, Mr. Lane focuses on me with those murderous eyes.

As if it's my fault he was humiliated tonight.

How dare I go on to build up someone else's company. How dare I not cry and beg him to take me back, that I was sorry and have learned from my mistake. That I would never challenge his decisions again and be the loyal, silent employee he expects me to be.

I shrink under his stare, and before I know it, Dabi's hand is once again on my back.

He has no power over you.

I take a deep breath. "Unfortunately, Mr. Dabi has a prior engagement and we don't want to be late." I tell Mr. Lane. "But thank you for coming over personally to say hello. Hopefully, an opportunity for us to meet again arises in the future."

Mr. Lane nods coldly and walks away. He didn't even shake our hands before he left. Aliyah smiles at us apologetically and comes to hug me once again.

"He's a good man," She whispers in my ear. When she pulls away, she gives me a sly wink and my face reddens. She shakes Dabi's hand before she hurries behind Mr. Lane to the outdoor seating area where the rest of NNTV's administration and senior employees lounge.

And Dabi and I are alone once again.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//don't know if you love me or you want me dead

Request: I dunno if this'll go through or not but can i request a Sweet Pea/reader based on this text post, I can't find the original version lol 

hey! sweet pea imagine based off this ^. originally posted by @riverdalecentral​, so thank you! its enemies to lovers!! which is a trope that i adore! (side note, if you ever see anything to do with enemies to lovers you can 100% just send it to me with literally no explanation and i absolutely will not mind). title is from ‘teeth’ by 5sos! i had so much fun writing this! i hope you all enjoy it! i also hope you’re all having a lovely day/night!

No matter where you are in the world, you never want to be in a forest at night. But if you live in Riverdale, thats just a given. Nobody in their right minds goes into Fox Forest at midnight, however, spending five minutes with Sweet Pea can make anyone go insane. And so here you are, trekking through the woods like you’re in some sort of shitty horror film. 

“I can’t believe Jones has got us running around town like we’re in fucking Scooby Doo.” Sweet Pea huffs as the two of you walk through the trees. You let go of the branch you’re holding, and it narrowly avoids hitting Sweet Pea. You can feel the glare you’re getting and a small smirk twitches at your lips. 

You and Sweet Pea have a complicated relationship to say the least. You’ve both been part of the serpents for the same amount of time. (You were actually initiated 5 minutes before him but he doesn’t like to admit that). You have grown up in the same trailer park, five trailers from each other and you share the same friends. But there’s just something about him that makes you want to stick pins in your eyes. And there’s something about you, that makes him want to repeatedly stub his toe every single minute of his life, rather than spend five minutes with you. So yeah, its complicated. 

There’s been so much speculation around why you two hate each other. Fangs says its because you’re both too stubborn to actually have a proper conversation (whatever Fogarty). Toni says its because you secretly like each other (gross), and there was once a theory that it was because you had secretly dated and then broke up (again, you would rather stick pins in your eyes). 

You just hated each other. That was it. 

Although, despite the fact that spending five minutes in the same room with him makes you nauseous, he is kind of attractive. If you’re into the whole ‘bad boy, gang member, secretly soft at heart’ thing. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. 

“You’re Shaggy!” “You’re Scooby.” You both say at the same time making your expression mirror his. You both glare at each other before reluctantly turning away and continuing to walk.

“If you’re implying that I’m lesser because I’m the dog...1. You’re an idiot. Everybody loves dogs and Scooby Doo is evidence of that. And 2. Scooby Doo is the main character. The whole franchise is named after him, making him the lead. He even has a snack named after him. Its Scooby’s world and we’re just living in it.” 

“What. The. Fuck.” He stops and you roll your eyes, turning around to look at him. 

“You know I’m right...Shaggy.” You shine your torch in his eyes and he squints before flipping you off.

“How am I Shaggy?” 

“You give of major stoner vibes, you’re always eating and I never see you wear anything other than a dark t-shirt, black jeans and your serpent jacket.” You look him up and down and he huffs in response, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“They all wear the same outfits...they’re cartoons.” 

“True.” You nod. “But the other two are right. Plus, you’d be nothing without me.”

“I’d be a lot happier without you.” He replies and you send him a sarcastic smile back. He returns it and the two of you continue through the woods, your torches casting a variation of shadows against the tall trees. Its less like Scooby Doo and more like Blair Witch. And despite your company being Sweet Pea, you’d rather him than nobody.

You suddenly get the feeling your being watched, and the intensity of it makes you stop in your tracks, Sweet Pea soon catches up to you, stopping beside you and also looking around. 

“What is it? Did you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror?” He teases and even though you’re absolutely terrified, you still find it in yourself to punch him in the arm. 

“We’re in the middle of a forest. Where would I find a mirror?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’ve found some weird things in the woods. I once found a pile of bones, a belt and a half eaten apple.” 

“I-What?” You look up at him and he shrugs casually. 

“To this day I have no idea why they were there. Although, the belt does look pretty good on.” 

“Hm-Wait what?” You glance at his belt, the silver reflecting off the rays of your torch and he quickly looks away. 

“Nothing.” 

“What exactly are we looking for?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“I dunno. Jughead just said ‘anything strange’.” 

“In Riverdale? Yeah, that’ll be easy.” You huff before quickly pointing your torch to the side of you. Sweet Pea joins, the two of you silently listening and watching (and praying) that its just an owl. After a minute you both continue walking, this time in silence and you’re sure you’ve huddle a little closer to each other, but neither of you seem to mind. 

Twigs snap underneath your shoes and a gust of wind makes the trees rustle around you. It makes you shiver, and you swear Sweet Pea pauses for just a second to look around. The whole atmosphere makes you feel suddenly claustrophobic, despite being in the great outdoors, and right now you’re unsure who you hate more, Sweet Pea...or Jughead.

“What did he mean by strange?” You whisper and look around again. 

“I don’t know. Anything that could explain the weird going ons at his preppy new school.” 

“Why would that have anything to do with the woods. They’re in the opposite direction of each other.” 

“Ask Jones.” He holds his hands up defensively making you huff loudly. Your barely make it two steps before freezing again, Sweet Pea grunts as he walks into you but you don’t acknowledge him, too busy trying to decipher whether the noise you heard was a bird or a murderer. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“What!?” He looks around quickly and somehow, the two of you end up closer together than you were before. “Y/n, I swear to god, if you’re fucking with me, I will actually kill you.” 

“Surprisingly, you don’t sound that threatening when I can feel you literally shaking beside me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Why did Jones even pair us together. You’re about as much use as a wet sock.” You mutter angrily, but you cut yourself off when you see a shadow move out of the corner of your eye. Before you can stop yourself you’re reaching out for Sweet Pea, grabbing his arm and squeezing. “Sweet Pea?” 

“Yep?” His doesn’t even hide the fear in his voice, and if you were in any other situation, you would have definitely made fun of him. 

“Did you see that?” 

“...yep.” He nods. “Do you think we should investigate?” 

“Do you think we should investigate?” You mock. “Its like you want to get murdered.” 

“A lot of people wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

“Getting murdered, or you specifically getting murdered.” 

“Either, or.” He shrugs. 

“I think at least a few people would miss you.” You reply and a smirk appears on his face. 

“Am I dead? Have I already been murdered? Are you actually being nice to me?” 

“We can find out if people would miss you if you want.” You smile sarcastically at him and he shoves you lightly. For a second, the two of you forget where you are and what you’re supposed to be doing. It feels light, even if you are being rude to each other, and you swear, for a split second, you feel yourself enjoying each others company. But of course, he ruins it. 

“No thanks. I’m happy knowing that you’d miss me.” 

“I never said tha-” He only looks away for a few seconds. He saw something move and he thought he’d check it out. But in the time that he turns around, that he pulls his eyes away from watching your lips as they say whatever sarcastic comment you’d come up with, you vanish. Your sentence being cut off. 

He swears he’s never moved faster. Instantly he turns back around, shining the torch in every direction he can. It suddenly feels darker and the only thing he can hear is his heart beating in his throat. “Y/n?” It starts off as a whisper, unsure of what to do. But when you don’t answer, he manages to find his voice. “Where did you go? Y/n? I would very much like to hear your annoying voice.” His eyes close, despite every fibre of his body screaming at him not too. He’s seen horror films, he knows he shouldn’t close his eyes, but he needs to wish and prayer and do anything he can to find you. 

“...sweet pea?” Your voice is quiet and trembling, but he hears it and his eyes snap open, frantically looking around. 

“Y/-” Your name dies in his throat once he sees you, and he can’t speak anymore. 

For as long as Sweet Pea can remember, he’s been day dreaming about you getting into traumatic accidents. There’s a running competition between the two of you, over who can come up with the most gruesome and violent end for the other.  Unfortunately he is winning due to a very traumatizing death that he said was inspired by both Saw and Final Destination. 

Right now though, your actual life is in threat and he has never wanted anything less in his life. 

A blonde, creepy looking boy around the same age as both of you holds you tight to him, one arm over your chest while the other holds a knife to your throat. There’s a dark haired girl stood beside him, also holding a knife, and even though she doesn’t look as intimidating as the blonde, it does nothing to make Sweet Pea feel better. 

“Wow, Jones was too scared to find us himself he sent his lackeys to do his dirty work.” 

“Let her go...please.” His voice breaks and he takes a careful step towards you. His hands already reaching into his pocket, desperately searching for his knife and brass knuckles, but he stops when he makes eye contact with the boy. 

“And we are not his lackeys.” You protest, despite the knife digging into your skin further, and the hold on you becoming tighter. 

Whatever Sweet Pea was feeling, whether it was fear, vulnerability or something in between completely disappears. And his gaze shifts from the man holding you, to you yourself, the same annoyed expression on his face. “Maybe focus on the knife being held to your throat, and then argue about what we are to Jughead.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh sorry for trying to save your life.” 

“Save my life? You couldn’t even sav-” 

“Is this a bad time? Do you want us to come back and kill you later orrr?” The girl asks sarcastically as she looks between you and Sweet Pea. Both of you look at each other before looking at the floor. 

“Continue.” You grumble and you feel the knife slice into your skin. A small cry escapes your lips and Sweet Pea looks up quickly. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so frightened, and you definitely didn’t think you’d be on the receiving end of such a look, but there’s something about it that stirs something inside of you, in spite of the very inappropriate moment.

“Okay.” She says, twirling the knife in-between her fingers. “We can either do this the easy way, or the even easier way. We’re going to make it look like a fight that went wrong. And then we’ll stumble out of the woods, covered in blood, crying, saying that it was self defense.” She smiles wickedly. 

“Even better idea, we don’t even have to be here. We could make it look like a fight between two gang members.” 

“Hmmm.” You and Sweet Pea say at the same time. Both of you know it’s very rare that Serpents kill each other, so that wouldn’t work, but as soon as you look at each other after the collective thought, do you realize the mistake you made. Never say ‘hmm’ when faced with death. 

“Aww, thanks for helping us plan your death.” The boy says. “So no to the fight between gang members. What about a fight between two lovers.” 

“Ew.” You mutter. 

“Gross.” Sweet Pea adds. 

“I’d rather just die.” You shrug and Sweet Pea sends you a look. 

“Y/n.” He sighs. 

“Fine, we’ll just go with the fight.” The boy huffs, moving the knife to the other side of your neck and digging it in. Blood trickles down your chest making both you and Sweet Pea wince. 

“You want to fight?” Your force the words out of your mouth and you can feel the look Sweet Pea is giving you. “Come on then, fight me.” The two of them exchange glances, they clearly weren’t expecting an answer from you. Whoever sent them to do this, definitely underestimated how stubborn serpents are, so maybe Fangs was right about you and Sweet Pea, maybe you were both too stubborn to get along. 

The ten seconds that they’re distracted, gives you and Sweet Pea a chance to look at each other. A silent conversation happens between the two of you and even though you’re not entirely sure of what he’s saying, you just hope you got the basic idea and so you send him a nod. 

While they’re distracted, Sweet Pea reaches into his pocket, slowly pulling his knife out, and as soon as they look back, you start your plan. Quickly you kick the guy as hard as you can in the shin making him fall and push you away from him, dropping the knife as he does. You swiftly pick it up and Sweet Pea uses the distraction to grab the girl, pressing his own knife against her neck. 

You stand a few feet away from them, holding your own knife and the one you stole out in front of you. 

“Touch her if you never want to see the light of day again.” He whispers in the girls ear and he sends a look to her weird friend that makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Now.” You smile. “Do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?” 

----

Dawn breaks as you both stumble out the forest. You’re covered in cuts and bruises, but thankfully you’ve stopped bleeding so you’ll take that as a win. Usually you enjoy beating up rich kids, its one of the few things you and Sweet Pea can bond over, but right now you just want to go home. 

They may have been preppy, but they definitely knew what they were doing. And they’d managed to escape, slipping away from you and through the trees. They may have gotten away, but they were barley in one piece, and so you figured that would be enough to bide Jughead some time with whatever he was planning. 

There’s a togetherness about fighting. For a while you, both you and Sweet Pea were sure you were going to die in there, and so now that you’re walking through the sleepy streets of the town, there’s a part of you thats glad the other made it out. 

They say fighting changes you. It awakens something in you. Usually that something is hate or anger, but both of you already have enough of that. 

No, this is something else. 

Respect for the other? Or maybe fondness? Whatever it is, its new and it swirls around the both of you, leaving you unsure of how to act. So you walk to Jughead’s house in silence, your arms brushing gently against each other every so often. 

Jughead’s house is quiet as the two of you walk through the front door. The Jones/Cooper house is full, serpents mill about the place, with either food or drinks in their hands. And Jughead is in the middle of them, stood right in the centre of the living room. It seems you and Sweet Pea weren’t the only people sent to their deaths last night. 

Everyone looks surprised as you walk into the living room. They probably expected at least one of you to be dead, whether that was because of something is the woods, or one of you, its surprising to see you two alive, with just a few cuts and bruises. 

“Did you guys find anything weird.” 

“Oh, you know. The usual.” You shrug. Jughead nods, deciding to talk to you about it in private later on. And so he starts talking to the group again, you and Sweet Pea practically blending into the background. But there’s a definite shift in atmosphere. 

Usually when you and Sweet Pea are in a room together there’s tension, and everybody is aware of it. But this time, its different. It feels light, despite the tense subject being discussed. Everyone can feel the change, but nobody can figure out what it is. 

Only you and Sweet Pea know what has changed. And as he squeezes your hand in his, a soft smile appearing on his face as he looks at you, you have a feeling a lot more things are going to change. Some of them may not be for the good, it seems like there’s a lot more to be uncovered in Riverdale, but one things for sure, you’re glad Sweet Pea is by your side for it.