#and also what u were listening to a month ago on repeat

[wiredentrails]

tagged by @frnk3nstein :-) based as fuck list. Btw. tysm for tagging me!

shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and list the first 10 songs that play :]

1. winter city ghosts - sparky deathcap

2. the same place - centaur

3. D>E>A>T>H>M>E>T>A>L - panchiko

4. song about staying - vyva melinkolya

5. doomed gf song - vyva melinkolya, midwife

6. hail mary - skating polly, louise post, nina gordon

7. for the workforce, drowning - thursday

8. broken - sleater-kinney

9. this woman’s work - kate bush

10. nothing bad ever happens - amelia cry til i die

hi @hauntinghouse @lesbianboyfriend @scorndotexe @femmepathy @thedivinemagnet i am tagging u if u want to do this :3

[lovedrruunk]

It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼️

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.

[mo0nfairy]

😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.

(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎

part 1. part 2. part 3.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.

⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)

you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.

you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.

it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.

you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.

opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.

you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!

you are supposed to love him! you have to!

and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.

now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.

claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.

leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.

you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.

he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.

he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.

by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.

cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.

you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.

"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.

"you're stuck with me to the end."

your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.

you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.

"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.

"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.

his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.

he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.

"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.

through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.

and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.

the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.

HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!

[tojivu]

PLEASE CALL ME [01]

a/n part 1 out of idk.. anyways this was so heavily inspired by phoebe bridger’s songs.. i’m so obsessed with her (=´∀｀) oh and also by a book i finished a long time ago but haven’t gotten over lol. i tried writing this in 3rd person pov but tbh it’s hard for me to display emotion in my writing if it’s 3rd person cus it’s like giving u instructions on how to feel 😭. I KNOW ITS 2023 OKAY I KNOW WE DONT LIKE 1ST PERSON ANYMORE BUT PLS LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT

warnings/tags barely proofread (i tried), if yall don’t like tis i’ll probably discontinue it LOL, childe x implied f!reader, sfw.

listen to chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers.

“Good morning.” Ajax is speaking to you, voice low. “It's a hot day.”

You were shivering, actually. Mornings were always cold no matter what the temperature was. Nevertheless, you nod and agree with him anyway. “Yup, isn’t it?”

You two were standing outside your house, waiting for the other to initiate the walking, to which you end up doing it. He follows behind, the path too narrow to fit the two of you—this was a familiar sound. Heavy footsteps you could only recognise to be Ajax’s only two metres behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at the back of your head.

Such a nostalgic feeling, you think. You and him have been passing by the same trees and the same brown-cream coloured houses for 5 years now.

“Can you believe that we’re graduating in two months?”

He doesn’t answer.

You repeat the question again and he finally responds. You turn around, curious as to what had gotten him so distracted; his phone is in his hand, he’s looking into it and it’s pointing at you—his bright yellow phone case pales in comparison to the smile he has on his face.

“Not even going to let me pose?”

“You don’t need to do that. Your morning face is enough.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’re pretty when you wake up.”

It’s 6 in the morning. Ajax was never one to think before he speaks, especially when the sun had just risen 5 minutes prior. You ignore what he says, assuming he just couldn’t tell that isn’t something you say to friends.

“Sure.”

—

It’s 8:27 am. You’ve been sitting through an hour of English, and you swear you thought the subject couldn’t get any more boring than when it was in middle school. You’re spinning your blue MUJI 0.5 tip pen between your middle and index finger, ultimately failing after 5 seconds and letting it drop to the floor. It rolls away, farther than you could bend and reach for—a soft metal clinking sound is heard when you realise it’s hit someone’s chair.

The red and black coloured backpack on the floor next to the chair made it obvious where your pen had gone and who’s chair it hit.

You whisper-yell, “Hey, can you pick that up?”

Ajax turns around and looks at you and then the floor. You’re thankful as he picks up the pen, but then quickly confused as to why he just turns forward again—keeping your pen at his desk.

—

YOU: It feels as though the evening has been stretched, like time is in slow motion and not in a good way; because I’m looking at Ajax sitting across from me and we have not spoken. I have a cup of coffee in my right hand, much too sweet for my own taste; a cat drawn from the latte art I don’t remember requesting. I’m very sure I asked for a bunny. I’m very sure. I think I left my Math textbook in class. The trees look really lively or something like that, I don’t really know, I am making sure to look away from Ajax because I know he’s staring.

“What?”

“What what?” He acts like he wasn’t just staring at me for the past 5 minutes. “Is there a problem?”

“My problem is that you’re being weird today.”

His mouth is agape, too dramatic to be genuine. “That’s rude.”

I don’t know what to reply to him now, knowing that he’ll just continue acting stupid. My shoes squeak against the wooden flooring as I lean back in my chair, it’s evening now and I’m so exhausted. People from the high school three streets away from ours are filling the tiny place up, passing by our table and some stare at Ajax as they do. The oak tables that were empty just a half hour ago are now full of teenagers, this whole place is infested with us; behind, left and right.

It’s not weird for people to stare at Ajax when we’re out together. It’s not like he’s a celebrity or anything, but somehow every girl I know has heard of him or has heard of him from someone who has heard of him. It’s a big chain of people I find impossible to keep track of. If you mentioned his name anywhere, someone would definitely go “you know him too?”.

I’m drinking my tea slowly and quietly. A group of girls are laughing so loud my eardrums could burst. Another group of girls walk in and the familiar bell sound of the café entrance rings, and it’s no surprise they know Ajax too; he smiles at them, I can’t tell if out of politeness, when they walk by. They’re giggling to themselves and I can’t help but feel a bit lost.

“What’s wrong with you today?” He’s asking me as if multiple things aren’t wrong with him. Suddenly, I’m the one with the problems.

I don’t bother anymore, I think about that moment minutes ago over and over again and I have no idea what to make of it. That giggle wasn’t a “what a coincidence” giggle, more like a teasing sort, the kind your friends do when your crush talks to you.

“Nothing is wrong with me.” I’m lying. “I’m gonna go home.”

He is so clueless, so oblivious to everything it is paining me. Oblivious to the amount of girls that are looking his way in this very establishment, at this very moment in time. It makes me almost angry, somewhat, that he doesn’t know.

—

AJAX: It is 7 P.M. and dark out. I think she’s angry but she’s just slouching over, but I get some sort of sensing that she will explode if I try to talk to her.

“Helllooo.” I’m next to her now, and she doesn’t want to reply to me; her eyes are on mine, eyebrows furrowed and clearly sending a message: Don’t even say anything.

I feel myself smiling because she looks very adorable. She is much shorter than I am. When she’s angry, I’m never able to take her seriously. I don’t think I ever have. Oftentimes in her fits of anger I am caught admiring her, smiling because I think she is so dramatic. When we were 15 she once yelled at me for using her charger, and apparently ‘making her phone charge slower’. She is one of the angriest and most short tempered people I know, yet I think she pulls off the frustrated pout and narrowed eyes very well. It doesn’t matter much to me.

“I’m not gonna ask what’s up with you because you got mad when I did.”

She looks forward again and we are still walking. Her house is still a few blocks down. I think she’s getting tired, too. I shouldn’t have dragged her to get milk tea with me. This path is too narrow to fit the two of us.

I walk in front of her and I can hear her tongue clicking out of annoyance. I bend down and stretch my arms, “Get on my back”.

I feel weight shifting onto my upper back, her long hair is tickling my neck but I don’t mind. Her arms are tired, slow in their movements as they wrap around me too, her head on my right shoulder and she does not say a word in all of it.

“Thank you.” she is whispering to me a few minutes later, and I think I am getting tired too. My legs want to give out. They don’t because I don’t let them.

It’s another 10 minutes and I’m at her front door, unlocking it using the key in her wallet; her parents are on the couch and watching TV and I start to wonder what this would look like to them.

“Ajax?” Her mother turns her head around and is surprised to see me, considering I wasn’t calling to say I was coming over. I haven’t done that in months.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s just tired, that’s all.” I tell her and I try my best not to speak too loud in case the girl on my back wakes up. I can feel her breaths on my back, slow and controlled. I bring her upstairs to her room and I lay her on her bed. Her room has changed quite a bit since I had last been in it, her desk is much more organised than it was a few months ago.

I found myself rejecting her invitations to hang out in her room over the summer break.

I think if I were to be alone in a room with her for too long I would end up blurting it out. I would tell her I’ve loved her since we started being friends, and she’d kick me out of her house and never talk to me again. But now she’s sleeping and I think I’m okay, so I pull her blankets over her and whisper; “Goodnight, I love you”.

—

YOU: I have no idea what day it is. I feel sticky. I look around and after a few seconds I sigh out of relief, realising this is my house, and these are my bedsheets. I don’t remember how I got here, though, my uniform is still on and the last thing I can recall is me on Ajax’s back.

I reach for my phone but realise it’s dead. A post-it note is next to my nightstand, ‘You’re welcome for the ride back. Call me when you wake up You owe me’, and on the bottom right corner there is an ugly and disproportionate cat drawn.

He didn’t even have the courtesy to remove my socks for me, but I guess that’s fair because I don’t think I’d go anywhere near his feet either.

I plug my phone into my charger and wait. I don’t know if he wants me to call him, but I think I should, I want to.

28 days later and i’m back with this shitty fic — 130423

[limomi]

adults only, minors don't interact

we all know that Reo is at the very least ok/good in everything he does, so i'm just literally physically unable to stop thinking how he'd be singing this song for ya...

imagine how yall have sorta singing competition while studying in uni n Reo never gave a damn about it but

so u 2 r really close friends both in love with each other but still not dating cause each of you's afraid to confess. most likely u don't wanna be "one of all that ppl" confessed to him n get rejected n even he'd say yes, he'd definitely do that just not to make u sad? moroever, u 'know' his family won't ever accept u as his partner.

the same time Reo can't believe that you as perfect as you are to him can love someone like him, cause let's be honest, his self-esteem is so much lower than should be

so time goes by n u 2 fall more n more in love n it causes a lot of fights between u, u 2 just can't stand seeing each other being so nice n friendly to someone else, smiling to someone else, spend time enjoying someone's company but yall can't honestly explain what r the reasons of that 'weird' behavior so u fight even more. neither of u wanna lose this connection between u, but both of you are sure that it'll surely happen if either of you reveals the truth about ur feelings to the other

one day Mikage got way too overheated with jealousy, observing u going to lunch with some random guy n letting him to touch u when he helps u clean ur face cause u have sauce n crumbs allover it, when that guy has a nerve to hug u, to make u smile n laugh so sincerely

Reo confronts u, u immediately get defensive n angry with such tone he talks to u with, the fight is just dreadful, he says n screams a lot but nothing he actually should, the same do u

now u don't talk for weeks, even months n none of u can get over it, get over ur feelings but also fear to lose each other. so stupid n ironic of both of u to be that afraid of loosing each other n still doing everything what's leads to it

the day of singing competition Reo didn't even know about it, he just didn't care at all, but than some of his friends invited him cause one of contestants was the crush of this pure guy but he was to shy n embarrassed to go alone, so being nice person as he is, Reo agrees to keep his poor friend's company. n there he sees u with that guy he confronted u about.

Reo's mad n broken at the same time, he couldn't be sure if something's going on between u or not but he thought about the worst scenario possible n immediately got nauseous so he excused himself, saying he needed to go, n ended up spending most of the competition in the restroom, picturing u in the arms of that guy

'no thoughts, head empty' he run without any clear plans, irritated and defeated, to the concert hall, backstage area, and literally ordered to put a minus of this song next, he'd been listening to it on repeat for a long time, back when you gave it to him to listen to over a year ago.

ofc, they tried to turn him down, saying he wasn't on the list of contestants, but a few words were enough to make the organizers worry about their future well-being so they did what he wanted

Mikage ordered all the footlights to go out before he appeared on stage, n the hall was completely dark, at first no one could understand what was going on, but suddenly Reo's voice came on, filling the void with pain and love that was clearly audible in his singing, n u couldn't help but recognize that beloved voice, so tears began to roll down your cheeks in unstoppable rivers, even though u couldn't see him, you knew that was him.

song comes to the end, Reo screams 'see? I said that u have power over me' n that exact moment as he burst into tears he feels ur hand holding his one as u say with trembling voice 'let's go out of here, I don't wanna our first kiss be this public"

P.S. sorry but sometimes my brain just needs scenarios like in stupid romantic tv-shows for teens

[intertexts]

HIIII ROS i am sorry i never replied to your reply to my ask from a while ago i am so bad at that ;-; in response to that kinda (bc we were talking about jhariah) i did see them live! 3rd concert ive ever been to in my life & it was life changing... i was front row n there was a baby mosh pit n i was with my best friends it was so good <3 i didn't get to see all the songs off TRUST CEREMONY live but if he tours again i will try to get tix because i must see CONTROL BABY live... my faves are control baby n fire4fun n russian doll <3 but it is my fave album ever created (except maybe Måneskin's Teatro D'Ira vol 1)

Dont wanna yap too much but other music im liking rn: Dua Saleh's ROSETTA ep; Missouri Surf Club's songs Rotten & Kingdom Come; Jean Dawson's entire discography generically but specifically SICK OF IT* and New Age Crisis; Ethel Cain's everything; and then im still consistent w the narcissist cookbook, an unkindness, sons of the illustrious father etc. I have been getting into a crazy amount of music since summer started though so there are sooooo many others but i wanna know what you're listening to! i like your music taste as ive said :3

ANYWAY I think i might just send another ask because this is ramble-y n u dont have to reply to it bc its overwhelming but!! Yeah hehe okay p. 1 - mare

HII HI HI no worries!!!!!!! all good i'm also really terrible at it!!!!!! hehe <33 jhariah concert & mosh pit is SO awesome though.. man.. thats so cool.... love that experience for u!!!! <333

checking out all of these rn they're SOO GOOD.... dua saleh ROSETTA ep literally going on the repeat playlist rn omg. ough. how have i not heard them before. holy fucking shit. missouri surf club goood i love the florence influence.... jean dawson & ethel cain WHOO!!!! hell yeag. god. u also have such good music dude. good shit.!!!!!!!

what have i been listening to!!! shit!!! this is gonna be LONG but u asked for it!!! a lot of morcheeba (big calm), de la soul (the grind date), sneaker pimps (bloodsport), tricky (maxinquaye) <- one of my all time faves, madvillainy, cibo matto (viva! la woman), yaeji (with a hammer), chai (wink)... summer to me is usually very hot & humid & sticky & dreamy to me (busted ac) so this is my laying on the floor staring at the fan vaguely dissociating rotation.

other than hip hop & trip hop-- dragon new warm mountain i believe in you by big thief!!!!!! somehow never listened to this one & i'm ill over it. & july flame (other all time fave) by laura veirs & central reservation by beth orton (<- huge recent discovery ill over her voice) & broken social scene self titled for my acoustic rotation...

heavier set: been getting BIG into creature feature they're literally so fun. i think u might like them tbh. american gothic is my fave so far!! summer is for shitty pop punk 2 me!! esp. when i actually have to Do Stuff & not lay on the floor melting. so. we the kings, fall out boy (cork tree & infinity on high), the cab, the academy is..., yellowcard, motion city soundtrack, alkaline trio :]

ALSO special mention 2 blue sky black death (slow burning lights, late nite cinema, noir) bc their instrumentals make me so insanely nostalgic & have been my writing soundtrack for the past month!!!!

[earlysunshines]

IM BACK AFTER LISTENING TO YOUR MUSIC RECS !! Everything you recommend was 🤭👏❤️ not a song that I didn’t like. But I’m here to tell you my favs

Do 2 me - kaytandra

I really liked this one the beat is super good and catchy the chorus I think (~~you no what you do to me. I said no….) that part was my favorite I immediately added this song to my playlist

Beauty and essex

I’m already a huge fan of Daniel Cesar so anything with him I’m already hooked so this song was fire

Wake up call by Mel blue

The perfect feel good song while driving in the car after a long day

Daisy - w2e

I have a couple w2e songs in my playlist and I need to listen to them more because I’m missing out on sm this song was so good

Slow down - Mac ayers

UGHHH THIS WAS SOO GOOD. This song has been on repeat since last night when I listened to it for the first time

Come back to me - rm

Was boppin my head the entire time I was listening to this. Never listened to rm but it makes me wanna listen to more

Satin - destin

This reminded me of Chris brown. I really like his voice

ANDDD I also wanted to say what you said abt Kendrick was 1000% true. I went to his Mr morale concert a couple years ago and all the videos I took were kinda ruined because I was singing into my phone the entire time and ruining the video💀

Buttttt thank you sm for the songs your music taste is insane

- the anon who asked for the music recs

OH MY GOSH ILY??S?DL:KF: i love when ppl take time to listen to my recs music is soooo serious to me u don't get it like omfg you deserve love and luck for the rest of your life

do 2 me: first listen had me hooked esp the intro/first verse it just had a flow and vibe that caught my attention so quickly

beauty and essex: sooo chill adn the first time I heard it I FELLT it in my bones like i was mkaing faces listening to it bc of how wonderful it is to hear and esp daniel caesars voice the way it swings so nicely plus the BASS OMFG...

wake up call: it was accidentally added to my playlist but I was sooo into it after first listen its so like relaxing and lowk and I listen to this a lot esp at night and when I'm in the car but a passenger + one of my favorites I listened to it a lot when I was on vacation in asia

daisy: a classic imo like this song has been with me since release bc I found wte a few months after they debuted and ugasdghh this song makes me lovesick and aushdfbsdkj

slow down: big fan of slow rnb that relaxes u, same feeling I get listening to wake up call

come back to me: i lowk shit on bts a good amount (songs they've made as a group) and have only been really into v's music, but this opened my eyes to what rm is capable of and the feeling + emotions in the song are played out so well, conveyed in a way that makes me sit and ponder I loooove this song and the whole album. i esp like the last chorus when the vocals overlap I think it's really bittersweet and I love songs like that

satin: nooo bc i discovered destin bc it was added to a playlist somehow then dove deeper into his music and omfg this one is just sooooo head bopping like shiiiit I'll be making faces listening to this too. his voice is very unique and like ughhasfdhj so perf

OFC i love giving song recs really I am so passionate about music LOL but I can't write enough words that can fully explain that thank you for taking the time to listen!! you're so sweet

[swiftly-skywalker]

10 songs, 10 people (part 2!!)

okay when i did this a while ago I said i wanted to do it again so now i am :P this round's way more chaotic so buckle in bitches my caps lock was working hard tonight

lets get started

@justadmiringanakin (i know i already tagged you in the last one but you have top tier music taste so im bringing u back) @emilysmidnights (come back...be here) @karmaismyb0yfriend um idk anyone else to tag so open tag?

You're Losing Me | Taylor Swift - bro this song. so devastating but also such a period slay??? miss blondie i just love you so so much you will always be awesome

firearm | Lizzy McAlpine - "what a joke?!?!" "WHAT A FUCKED UP REALITY SHOW?!?!?!?" "YOU HAD ME CONVINCED THAT YOU LOOOOOOVEDDDD MEEEEE???????????????????" i have no other words. lizzy i love you so so much as well you're so cool

in my head | Ariana Grande - this one's partly for ch 18 of ffm. I- rfobsVKfobalAbalbgrushf I love this song so much. The lyrics? the production?? the high notes??? perfection. ALSO GO READ FALL FOR ME PLEASE BY @justadmiringanakin DO IT

The Alcott | The National and Taylor Swift - the parts where they sing like at each other??? AMAZING. i never fail to scream out tay tay's parts-- DID MY LOVE AID AND ABET YOU SHRED MY EVENING GOWNNNNNNN

Easier to Cry | TV Girl - and she just wanted to die but it was easier, it was easier to ADFFJSKBF:IURCSVG CRYYYYYYYY

What You Wish For | Guster - okay where my hayden girlies at cus theres a story to this one. I've always loved Guster since I was a baby, theyre my mom's fave. The movie Life As A House (EMO HAYDEN) came out about 4, 4.5 months after I was born. The directer of LaaH is a HUGE Guster fan. Their songs are in all of his movie soundtracks. This, along with the song Rainy Day of the same album (Lost and Gone Forever 1999), were featured in Life as a House. My mom met the director of this movie at a Guster concert when I was unfortunately only like 2 and too young to go. She also loved Hayden-i guess the obsession is a gene lol. thank u for coming to my ted talk

Thinkin Bout Me | Morgan Wallen - before I begin, if you're thinking of hating on country music, do not interact please. it's unnecessary. I'm unashamed for my interests. anyways this song is so GOOD morgy is absolutely SAVAGE songwriter and i loveeee him for it.

NYMPHOLOGY | Melanie Martinez - this song is also so amazingly savage. I love both Melanies, old and new. Angry songs are my PASSION and this song hits so hard for me

Someday You Will Be Loved | Death Cab for Cutie - "DO IT FOR BEN GIBBARD"-my friend i was talking to making this as i told her idk if i should put death cab on here -> this is my fave song by death cab (postal service and solo gibbard not included) for inexplicable reasons

and finally....

WILD UNCHARTED WATERS BY JONAH HAUER-KING yes i felt the need to yell that one at you guys this barbie just saw the little mermaid and is officially obsessed. IT WAS SO GOOD!!!!! the music? the storytelling?? the casting???? PERFECT. Everyone was soooo good in it and i encourage you ALL to go see it or watch somewhere. i condone illegals to see this movie. anyway Jonah Hauer-King was GORGEOUS and sang SO WELL and I LOVE HIM and OMG. ive listened to this song on heavy repeat in the last few days. like my spotify is having a stroke actually

[orcelito]

🎶✨️when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)🎶✨️

(hope i don't bother you with this ask ! have a great day/night/whatever)

oh i listen to so so soooo many songs . uhm. i guess i'll choose some of my current favorites? oh maybe a favorite song from each of my favorite bands! ...of which there are definitely more than 5. but top 5 favs i guess???? or current 5 favs??? i dont think i can call these necessarily my Top 5 favs bc i have so many bands & artists i like at different times for different reasons BUT IF I HAD TO CHOOSE... ok this is going by band order i guess for current fixation but:

Sorrow - IAMX. ive been obsessively into IAMX recently to the extreme. for months. and i love soooooooo so many songs of theirs. but this song? Sorrow? it's the one that did it for me. I Come With Knives was the initial one that kicked this off, but going to Sorrow is what made me like "man i DESPERATELY need to listen to more of their music". NOT my very first IAMX song, that title belongs to Volatile Times, which ive known for like some ten years :p but only recently listened to more of their music and i have NOT looked back. as a bonus Sorrow reminds me a lot of ITNL Vash. perhaps part of the fixation on it lol

Nothing Personal - Des Rocs. picking a favorite song from him was nearly impossible bc im obsessed obsessed obsessed with his music. legit last year on my spotify wrapped all of my top 5 songs were his. OBSESSED. 'A Real Good Person In A Real Bad Place' is still undisputedly one of my fav albums EVER & the reason for that top 5 songs thing. but Nothing Personal is the first Des Rocs song i ever heard & what made me go "Oh my God???" & it still makes me lose my total shit when i listen to it lksdjflskjdf. honorary mention to Why Why Why, which was the other one i considered for him. also love that shit sooo much.

I Never Told You What I Do for a Living - My Chemical Romance. just so you know picking a single favorite song for MCR was near impossible. so much of their music makes me absolutely insane in the best of ways & picking just ONE?????? impossible. but i chose this one bc it's one that makes me EXTRA lose my shit anytime i listen to it. like fucking Belting it out. this one's The One. i can't give you special mentions for MCR bc there are too many. too fucking many. god i still love MCR so much

Armageddon - Blue Stahli. fucking love Blue Stahli's stuff, it's SOOO fun to listen to, & Armageddon probably really is my fav of theirs. i end up just jumping along to this song so much. it's a jumping song !!! so much fun to listen to !!!! also really paints a picture of me that a fav song of mine is just "Armageddon, come come and get it! Armageddon, baby!" the whole The Devil album is soooooooooo much fun & also an album i had a Mood for. back in uhh oct 2021 i wanna say. around there. special mentions for Takedown, Kill Me Every Time, and Power Outrage (this last one especially, OH MAN this also makes me lose my shit in the best of ways)

Mr. Fear - SIAMES. in a dramatic tone change from the other choices, i really am quite fond of SIAMES's music. it's my chill music. & this song specifically is sooooooooo full of longing and wistfulness. it's the first one of theirs i listened to & it's so......... waaaaaaaaaaaaa.. special mention to Brothers, which i very nearly chose bc im obsessed with that song too, but Mr. Fear has had my heart in a chokehold since i first listened to it Years ago. had to answer that one.

uhm. there are 5! additional special mentions to Capricorn by Xan Griffin, Maniac by Stray Kids, and Lovesong by TXT, which are all individual songs i've had MASSIVE obsessions with in the past. the Repeat On End kinds of songs. im being a bad STAY by not including Stray Kids in the favorite bands list but i havent been listening to their music as much lately. feeling these top 5 much more rn

[fluffypotatey]

hi, i'm late for the wip thing (grr busy, unfortunately) but can u tell about the 11 to 20, please? 🥹

hooooo boy you sure you wanna open that can of worms, deary 👀

i mean, I’m totally sharing just…it’s gonna take some time 😅

*coughs* sO

11. Yassifying Chick Flicks: Neither the First Nor the Last

happy pride 💅

As the title says, nothing about this story is hetero it is all homo. it’s a trope subversion on le old teen high school Chick Flicks. literally, the character’s initials tells you what their roles are (MC = main character, LI =love interest, RH = red herring, TBF = toxic best friend)

Can be interpreted as a character study on teen girls and internalized misogyny tho and i fully intend to expand on it.

12. Sunglasses Quiz

ok so this is just a cute little story of these two girlfriends who are trying to buy sunglasses, and you know how some have it where you take a quiz?

yeah, so these girlies are trying to take the quiz and end up getting……ahem, distracted 👀

anyway, the little description i write for this was “i was feeling sappy so i wrote some sappy queer love” so 🏳️‍🌈 happy pride🏳️‍🌈

“As a renowned researcher yourself,” Laura exclaimed, ignoring Pen’s comment, “it is shameful”— Pen rolled her eyes— “you, who have published many scholarly works into the world, should know better!”

Pen would have definitely shoved her girlfriend. She definitely would have if it were not for that sweet, “innocent” smile on Laura’s face. That’s what she tells herself anyway.

13. Witch boy

Repeating myself -> “LISTEN: i know this one also complete when you go to Ao3, but that's just because the 3rd part is being fucking slOW, so i said "fuck it ends nice at ch2 anyway," but i do want to add more. but yeah, to summarize: fic was inspired by a Halloween fanart i saw and i just ran with it.”

basically, it’s a modern au of bbc’s merlin but there seems to be magic leaking into “our” world every Halloween. and our lovely band of misfits (Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana, Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Leon) have taken it upon themselves to put a stop to it every Halloween. Also, slow burn romance between Merlin and Arthur bc i can never help myself. the 3rd installment is still in the works T^T but I do want to complete this one day. but yeah, here’s a snippet:

14:27 HighPriestessofthemStilletos: ARTHUR ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE L'Oréal Hair: oop arthur’s in trouble!!!HoodieReigns: oh good so he’s not just doing this to me AngelQueen: He didn't even pick-up when you called? HighPriestessofthemStilletos: @HighKing_Wart I WILL BLOW UP YOUR PHONE HighPriestessofthemStilletos: DON’T TEST ME HoodieReigns: it seems he did not, in fact, pick-up when she called gwen

14. Emrys Shrine

this one is essentially a continuation of the Shrine of Emrys fic I wrote months ago but it is still in the works. Here we have Percival’s pov of the aftermath of the fic

Percival often wondered if Merlin was like him. Someone who had lived in the Druid camps as a child, but then he heard Arthur tell the tale of Merlin’s home Ealdor and his kind-hearted mother. He even met her sometime after Arthur had secured his throne from Morgana once again, and she had explained how the village has been her home since birth, how she spent her days living in it, how she had raised her darling boy in this place before he left for Camelot.

15. Lucky’s Timeline @ Beacon Hills

SUPER, SUper self indulgent fic where i insert my OCs, Lucy and Nick, into the teen wolf universe and how they interact with it. for example:

“But this is Coach’s car,” McCall said with a frown. “Is it?” Nick replied nonchalantly as he twirled the keys in his free hand, unlocking the car doors.

16. THE everchanging STORYLINE

ahaha…. so i named it that bc i’ve been writing this one for 2 years and almost every month i would change the plot. which meant i needed to reorganize the chapter list and where which scene went 🙄 (i am my own bane) this still happens and it’s been 3 years now T^T

anyway, this wip is my dc/batfam wip, aka the origins of Lucy and Nick lol. plot’s a nonchronological mystery with switching pics to outsider, minor characters, and Nick

17. Lucy Elliot: She Be Descending

literally just the previous but if Lucy was adopted by an abusive douchebag (douchebag being Thomas Elliot) and if she had a corruption arc (ngl i like corruption arc Lucy more she’s unhinged). assassin instead of vigilante and self-made leader of underground elites who “run” Gotham (killed the previous one and he was so impressed by her underhanded moves he placed her in his will instead of his son lmao)

anyway, snippet of Lucy and her (future ex) husband:

“Why darling”— she let out a scandalized gasp— “do you really think I would stray from you?” He merely gazed at her, eyes blank and cold. Lucy stared back, not one to be challenged. She knew he was just riling her up. Not that she was surprised in the slightest of his behavior. Lucy knew this was because of his alleged rivalry with a dear friend of hers. A dear friend whose father was the host of this gala. The gala said dear friend was said to be attending. “I would never doubt a woman who gave me a solemn vow.”

18. Mob Boss Lucy, Basically

remember what i wrote for 17? now let’s shift it to the right again! it’s me taking plot from 16 & 17 and trying to give Nick and Lucy an original story. Lucy still becomes a self-made mob boss but there’s no Gotham, no vigilantes.

the story here is that Lucy and Nick are building their power whilst evading the law and destroying any evidence that would lead to them bc their being hunted by a detective (who’s also Lucy’s childhood friend) and a private investigator

19. Dandelions

explained here

20. not really a sequel but it happens after

so this one is a continuation/sequel to 16. Lucy and Nick are happily married and adopted a really sweet kid (Caleb) but— oh no! horrible mercenaries attack Lucy and Caleb on their walk to the park! It leaves Lucy in critical condition and caused a magical outburst from Caleb and— whoops, there’s now a rift in time and space 🤷🏻‍♀️

i don’t really have much written and it’s self indulgent anyway so yeah

AND THERE YOU GO 🎉 phew that took me a bit but it was fun talking about them so thanks for the ask @thiamsxbitch 💕💕💕💕💕

[osaka-lilac]

augh i was tagged by @formula-red n @ellearts thank u thank u thank u!!!!!! <333

name: allie!!! that’s me hi!!!!!

sign: leo sun, taurus moon, n i think aries rising (on the cusp of pieces n aries)

time: 09:31

favorite band / artist: augh too many…… the mountain goats, queens of the stone age, car seat headrest, n sam fender are my favorites rn

last movie: saw inglorious bastards again on wednesday with my friends and it fucked so hard i love that movie it’s one of my favorites

last show: uhhhhhh i don’t watch a lot of shows i guess i rewatched smiling friends the other day???

when i made this blog: fuck i have No clue how long i’ve had this blog, i would guess around 6-7 years but i have been on the site for at least 8-9 years

what i post: rn it’s f1 and any other brainrot however i have been through many different phases in this blog that consist of like. the old emo quartet. mcyt/ adjacent streamers. i was one of the 2020/21 polygon bloggers. lots has happened here

do i get asks?: yeah! i’m really bad at responding but once in a while i get one and i get all giddy like it’s aughhhhh <3333

followers: 1209 (it’s a specific number i just remember it lol)

average sleep: uhhh 6-7 hrs and i will sometimes take small naps if it is not enough

instruments: ukulele, and a hint of guitar and piano (all self taught but i’m not very good) n french horn (middle school band instrument) i sing much more often than i do play

what i’m wearing: uhhh that tan ferrari shirt that was on sale a few months ago, jorts, n my favorite blue teva saddles i’ve been wearing for years. i also have two of my grandmother’s rings that i wear every day n my kyanite necklace :)

dream job: honestly idk what i want to do but i may want to dabble in engineering so i can like. do stuff with f1 cars like. that’d be neat. near impossible but still it’s cool as fuck

dream trip: so like i’ve only been outside of my state (wi) a handful of times so like i want to go literally anywhere else. colorado is on my mind n like. if i were to go overseas. like. poland (i’m polish hell yeah!!!!) or like. italy or spain or literally anywhere i wanna go to japan too FUCK i want to travel

favorite song atm: OH uh there’s too many i’ll just link one of my playlists i’ve been listening to on repeat with my favorite songs of the summer

uhhhh i tag @gaygglejuice27 @protocolseben @mcl4r3n n anyone else who wants to do it ok i love u guys <333333

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

ch. 4: A Safe Place to Land- Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 5.6k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.

Warnings: so much angst, panic attack, not taking care of oneself? related food mention, more angst, sexy time mentions (but no actual smut), alcohol mention, cursing, men are the worst, overuse of italics

a/n: hi y'all! thank u all for the patience & love you've shown this series <3 ngl, this chapter was hard to write bc of the subject matter & all that but i'm really happy w how it turned out! i listened to "Salt In The Wound" from boygenius on repeat while writing this chapter, i HIGHLY recommend giving it a listen. also--my toxic trait is naming my villain-esque original characters after people who’ve done me dirty personally. voila captain ethan was born :)

series master list | master list

On Bob’s birthday, the squadron threw a small party for him on base. It was nothing major–just a small party with his closest friends, quiet and lowkey–just how he liked it. Impromptu party rooms were few and far between on base, so they set up in a Top Gun classroom that wasn’t being used at the moment.

y/n was wandering around the halls in search of the classroom, balancing a cake box in one hand and her phone in the other. Though Rooster texted her specific directions to the room, she felt like she was trapped in a labyrinth. Screw the security system and guards spread throughout the building, the confusing layout was enough to disorient anyone who didn’t belong. 

A stray balloon that escaped from a room at the end of the hall served as y/n’s personal beacon. She was working the night shift at the emergency room that night, so she couldn’t stay long at the party. She at least wanted to say hi to everyone and wish Bob a happy birthday before she left for the hospital.

Halfway down the hall, y/n was stopped in her tracks when a familiar face turned the corner. Tall, dark, and handsome as ever stood Captain Ethan Richards. y/n shuddered at the sight of him, a stark contrast to the attraction she felt just a few months ago. She prayed that her ex would walk in the opposite direction, would turn around, do anything except see her down the hall. There was nowhere for her to hide while he passed, so she stood in the hallway like a sitting duck. As luck would have it, he glanced back in her direction and did a double take.

Whatever the Captain had set out to do in the building was forgotten as he stalked toward y/n like a predator hunting its prey. y/n gulped and tried to school her deer-caught-in-headlights expression. Ethan didn’t deserve to see her so vulnerable. He didn’t deserve to see her at all.

“y/n, what a nice surprise!” Ethan greeted with a grin.

“Ethan.” y/n’s response was curt and accompanied by a tight-lipped frown. Ethan let his eyes drag down y/n’s scrub-clad body. A few months ago, she would’ve felt flattered. Now she just felt dirty. His eyes lingered on the cake box in her hands for a moment.

“You always were so good at baking. Mind if I try a bite, sweetcheeks?” The innuendo and his hungry stare made y/n nauseous. Her frown deepened. Ethan, evidently unsatisfied by her reaction, decided to change tactics. y/n watched his face harden and thought that he could’ve served his country much more effectively in Guantánamo Bay. Never in y/n’s life had anyone been able to get under her skin like this.

Ethan was smart and observant, she had to give him that. Between the lone balloon down the hall, the cake in y/n’s hands that read Happy Birthday Bob! and the distant lively voices of Top Gun’s best squadron, he pieced together what y/n was here for.

“You sleeping through a whole squadron now? I saw you getting cozy with Bradshaw, Machado, and Seresin at The Hard Deck,” Ethan’s voice was low and sinister as he stepped toward her. Everything in y/n screamed at her to take a step back and get away from him, but she stood her ground. His accusation took her aback, there was no denying that, but she refused to be bested by him.

“You would know what that’s like, wouldn’t you?” y/n jabbed, her voice cold. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a look of hurt flash across Ethan’s eyes but it was gone a second later. His jaw ticked in frustration. Ethan could always dish it out, but he wasn’t as good at taking it.

A cruel smile overtook his face before he made his next remark. y/n braced herself. She knew his words would seek to cut through her like a knife, but nothing could’ve prepared her for what he said.

“At least I was able to return your engagement ring. That wasn’t cheap, sweetheart. Unlike you, apparently,” Ethan tutted and rocked on his heels. He looked satisfied when y/n’s face dropped. She was certain a punch straight to the gut would’ve hurt less than his revelation. Now that stopped y/n in her tracks. She was at a loss for words. She couldn’t even manage a pathetic sputter as her eyes widened in shock.

He was going to propose? y/n was lost in thought. The worst part was that she knew she would’ve said yes. Before she found him cheating, she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with Ethan. She made a secret wedding board on Pinterest. She started brainstorming baby names after they celebrated their year-and-a-half anniversary.

Rooster checked his wristwatch. y/n was supposed to arrive 10 minutes ago. It was plausible that she got lost, but something in his gut told him something was wrong. He excused himself from the party and made his way out into the hallway. Rooster was surprised to see Captain Richards facing away from him just down the hall; as far as Bradley knew, the captain had no business being around Top Gun’s section of the base. Bradley couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed when Richards shifted to the side, his tall frame no longer hiding y/n from Rooster’s view.

Rooster set off towards the two with long deliberate strides. He had no plan of what to say or do when he approached them, but y/n’s color-drained face was enough to have him moving fast. Once Rooster stood just feet away, the sight of y/n’s wide eyes and white-knuckle grip on the cake box had him on the defensive.

“Is everything okay out here?” Rooster asked with as much authority as he could muster. The lieutenant hoped his worry didn’t seep into his tone, but his focus on y/n and y/n alone gave him away. Ethan smirked as he glanced between Bradley and y/n. y/n was doing her best not to cower as she stood in a daze with her lips pressed into a thin line. Bradley, on the other hand, was laser-focused and struggling to hide his bubbling anger.

“Just fine, lieutenant. I was just leaving. Bye, sweetheart,” Ethan delivered a condescending wink and licked his lips before leaving. A moment of silence passed as y/n stared holes into Ethan’s back until he turned down a corridor hidden from her view. Rooster’s wild eyes darted across y/n’s face while she was still trapped in her daze. The aviator had never seen her so shaken in their months of knowing each other.

When Ethan was far out of sight and earshot, y/n slowly turned towards Bradley. She could hardly look him in the eye as she wordlessly handed over the cake. Confusion etched its way across Rooster’s face when y/n took a step back towards the door instead of toward the party.

“Tell Bob I said happy birthday,” y/n voice was quiet as she looked down at the ground and turned to leave. Rooster gently grabbed her wrist before she could walk away.

“y/n, are you okay? Did he say something?” y/n bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Rooster’s worried eyes and delicate touch were enough to have her tearing up as his question went unanswered. y/n cleared her throat and met his eyes, unable to hide the unshed tears in her own.

“I have to go. I’m gonna be late for work,” y/n said flatly. She was honestly surprised that her voice didn’t betray her and let her emotions spill out everywhere. Before Bradley could stop her again, she tugged her arm out of his grip and quickly made her way towards the exit. Rooster stood in the hallway alone with a homemade cake in hand as he watched her go, looking like a lost puppy.

A few twisted turns later, y/n finally saw a red exit sign hanging above an exterior door. This too felt like a beacon, but for an entirely different reason. She haphazardly burst through the doors and made her way towards the parking lot on unsteady legs. Air couldn’t seem to fill her lungs enough as she took shallow heaves, her shoulders shaking from the motion. y/n couldn’t hold in the sobs that wracked through her body once she was in her car. Her uncontrolled breathing punctuated the onset of a panic attack. 

y/n got upset countless times over the past few months about her breakup, but she hadn’t had a panic attack like this since she walked in on Ethan with his mistress in their bed. She suspected that also had to do with the fact that this was the first time she spoke to Ethan face-to-face since before the move. The last time she was within arms reach of her ex was when they broke up. y/n cringed as she remembered how she yelled at him with red-rimmed eyes and a packed duffle bag slung over her shoulder as she shoved their house key against his chest.

After 20 minutes of unsuccessfully trying to clean herself up and regain a semblance of composure, y/n called in sick for work. Her manager didn’t ask questions–y/n’s congested voice and sniffles were enough of an explanation–and y/n didn’t give answers.

y/n was M.I.A. for two days. No calls, no texts, and a missed work shift. Shitty reality TV played in the background while y/n ate a tub of ice cream, surrounded by tear-stained tissues in her bed. She looked like a mess, but nothing could compare to how she felt inside.

Rooster knew y/n slept through most of the day following her night shifts. As far as he knew, she went to work that night. But it wasn’t like her to go more than a few hours without answering texts. So when a few hours turned into a day and then a day and a half, and his calls went unanswered for the fourth time, Rooster went to visit y/n at her house.

y/n heard muffled knocking at her door from underneath her duvet and several blankets. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and even if she were, she still had no intention of getting out of bed. The turning of the door lock and squeaky hinges had her sitting up straight in bed. No one had a key to her house. Was someone breaking in? y/n frantically searched for her phone amidst her bed covers, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Heavy footsteps made their way down the hall and y/n’s shaky thumb hovered over Rooster’s phone number before a voice spoke out.

“y/n/n, are you in there? It’s me,” Bradley’s voice was gentle but could be heard clearly through the door. y/n let out a sigh of relief when she recognized the voice. She made a mental note to ask him later about how he managed to unlock the front door. Just as quickly as the relief flooded through her, it was replaced by anxiety. To put it lightly, y/n looked like shit.

“Go away, Roos. I’m fine,” y/n’s words weren’t even slightly believable. She knew Rooster wouldn’t just go away–not after she’d been radio silent for so long and the last time he saw her she practically ran away with tears in her eyes. y/n tried to make herself look as presentable as she could after spending forty-some hours in bed. Her attempts were pretty fruitless; she just barely managed to smooth down her hair, but there wasn’t much she could do about her mascara-tear-stained cheeks.

Rooster gave a soft knock before he opened her bedroom door, letting light from the hallway spill into her darkened room. His eyes adjusted to the light difference while he took in the bags under y/n’s puffy eyes and mascara streaks across her face. His heart broke at her disheveled state.

y/n shied away from his gaze; she didn’t want him to see her so weak. Bradley had never seen her seem so small. As he moved towards her bed, he reminisced on the first day they met, when y/n was taking care of him at his bedside.

When y/n still wouldn’t look at him, Bradley reached out and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest when she saw the worry filling his eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was drag this perfect man into her bullshit. Her life was messy, especially now, and he didn’t deserve that.

y/n tucked herself against Bradley’s body when he outstretched his arms, beckoning her towards him. He rubbed circles against her back and softly smiled when he realized the fabric separating their skin was a shirt of his that went missing a few weeks ago. Her legs were unsteady from lack of use, but Rooster was unfazed (after all, this wasn’t the first time he supported y/n on wobbly legs, especially after certain activities).

“Have you had anything to eat?” The words ‘other than ice cream’ were unspoken, but y/n received the message nonetheless. She shook her head wordlessly against his chest.

y/n couldn’t help but crack a smile when Rooster, ever the Navy man, came up with a plan on the spot. He’d go to the kitchen to make y/n dinner and suggested that she do whatever she needed to make her feel better–stretch her legs, splash some water on her face, or lay back down until dinner was ready. y/n murmured “don’t burn down my kitchen,” and relished in the rumble of Bradley’s chest as he chuckled.

Dinner was quiet. Bradley and y/n didn’t speak much. She muttered a quiet thank you towards the end and Rooster nodded appreciatively. Most of all, he was just happy to see her consuming an actual meal after surviving on Ben and Jerry’s alone for the past 48 hours. After dinner, y/n washed the dishes. Rooster insisted that he do it, but y/n argued that she needed to do something after being dormant for two days. She left out the fact that she mostly just wanted to run her hands under the scalding hot water to feel something.

Neither of them were sure what to do after dinner. y/n stood in front of the sink rigidly and Bradley remained seated hesitantly at the table. The heavy silence was broken when Rooster spoke up after a bout of eye contact.

“I’m here for you,” Bradley cleared his throat before continuing, his eyes never leaving y/n’s. “If you want me to go, I will, but I’ll camp out on the couch all night if you want me to so you’re not alone.” Rooster’s sincere gaze was enough to pull at y/n’s heartstrings. His words even managed to bring a small smile to her face, too.

“This couch is terrible. I’ve ejected from F-18s going warp speed and laying on this sad excuse for a sofa has given me worse back pain,” Rooster groaned during one of their regular movie nights a few weeks ago.

“Maybe you’re just getting old, Brad. Your body can’t bounce back and move the way it used to,” y/n teased with an infectious grin. Rooster scoffed and brought his hand down to slap her ass cheek.

“Last I checked, you weren’t complaining about the way my body moves, Patches,” Bradley quipped back with raised eyebrows. A blush spread across y/n’s cheeks at the insinuation.

“Touché, Bradshaw. Touché.”

y/n bit her lip as she thought. The guilt settled in her chest dissipated at Bradley’s words. The pilot was willing and maybe even wanted to be there for her–that realization both comforted and terrified y/n. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but think that he didn’t deserve to be caught up in her problems. She strongly considered sending him away–even though she really, really didn’t want to–but it was too late to shut him out now. Plus, whether she was ready to admit it or not, she needed him.

The last thing y/n expected was becoming attached to someone, much less another Navy guy, so soon after her breakup regardless of whether or not she was over it.

At this point she truly was–over her breakup, that is. y/n grieved the loss of the relationship and processed everything within a few weeks of her and Ethan calling it quits. Well, more like y/n telling Ethan to go fuck himself and delete her number.

The real reason y/n went through an entire box of tissues and stayed in bed for two days was that Ethan was able to get under her skin, even now. After everything that happened–the whirlwind romance and the promise of a forever love and a future and then the cheating and the breakup–the person who she trusted most and betrayed her the worst was still able to bother her. y/n hated that Ethan still had power over her. And she was angry at herself for that.

With that clusterfuck in mind, y/n still couldn’t quite pinpoint why she spent so much time crying. It was clear she still had some healing to do because Ethan wasn’t worth her tears, not by a long shot.

So, with bated breath, she nodded and accepted Bradley’s offer to stay. Stay. The concept of Bradley staying by her side felt like warm honey for a sore throat. Maybe this could be her remedy. 

For the first time in days, y/n glanced at her appearance in a nearby mirror. Rooster’s shirt looked good on her–something she always teased him about and Rooster agreed, she did look better in his clothes–but everything else was a bit of a mess. y/n stiffened when she realized Rooster was seeing her like this. She was a total mess and he chose to stay.

“Actually, Roos… I, uh, I need to take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” y/n asked shyly. Rooster’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the offer (yes, yes, a thousand times yes) and he stood up faster than he ever had in his life. Rooster knew the last thing on y/n’s mind right then was anything sexual, but she was letting him in. She was letting him close and being vulnerable and that’s something. That’s everything.

The bathroom was dark, illuminated only by the dwindling sunset light streaming through the window and a small night light by the sink. For a while, they stood in silence while Rooster held y/n in his arms and gently swayed them side to side. The warm water and sure beating of Bradley’s heart against her ear soothed y/n, almost enough to make her forget about the past couple of days.

Eventually the shower became productive. y/n’s mascara and salty tear stains washed away with a little bit of soap and the warm water helped ease the pain. Halfway through washing her hair, y/n turned back to look at Rooster. He ceased his massage on her scalp and waited patiently as y/n formed her words.

“Ethan told me he was going to propose. He told me he bought an engagement ring but he returned it after we broke up,” y/n admitted tiredly. Rooster sucked in a breath. Of all the things he might’ve expected y/n to say, that was not one of them. y/n chuckled at Bradley’s reaction. Yeah, that’s how I felt too. After recovering from the initial shock, he searched her face for any indication of how she felt. The limited light made it difficult, so he cautiously asked her how she felt about that. y/n shrugged noncommittally.

“If he had proposed before I found out he cheated, I would’ve said yes. Things were good between us, you know? But there’s no way in hell I’d even think about getting back together with him now. So it’s all kind of pointless to worry about, I guess,” y/n breathed out. It felt good to get that off her chest. Thinking out loud to Bradley for a few minutes in the shower was somehow more productive than the endless thinking she did over the past couple of days. Rooster didn’t push her to say anymore, he just listened intently. He felt a little selfish for the relief that flooded through him when y/n firmly stated she would never get back with Ethan.

The rest of the shower followed a similar pattern: Rooster and y/n worked in tandem to wash her hair and body, they took breaks to let the warm water cascade over her skin, and y/n spoke up every once in a while.

“He basically called me a barrack bunny,” y/n said with a huff. Now that stopped Rooster in his tracks. He ceased the movement of the washcloth against y/n’s back and slowly turned her to face him.

“He said what?” Rooster asked steadily, though a simmering rage began brewing inside him. y/n recognized his anger. Over the past few months, she’d gotten pretty good at picking up on his emotions–he was still a man after all and had a complex relationship with displaying emotions outwardly. It was clear to y/n that his anger wasn’t directed toward her, but rather at Ethan, and she was tired of covering for him.

y/n took a deep breath before explaining that Ethan must have seen how she interacted with the squadron the first night she met everyone at The Hard Deck. y/n and Rooster made no efforts to hide the way they cozied up to each other that night; Coyote frequently referred to y/n by ‘home girl’ and gave her fist bumps; and Hangman even managed to pull y/n into a hug before he left.

Rooster stood lost in thought while y/n rinsed the remaining soap from her body. He scoffed at the thought that someone with Ethan’s track record would judge anyone else’s possible sexual escapades. As Bradley helped y/n wrap a towel around her body, he firmly decided that the next time he saw Captain Ethan Richards off-base, Rooster would give the man a black eye.

Bradley wiped the steam fog from the bathroom mirror so y/n could do her skincare routine. Rooster learned just how important this regimen was to her on two occasions. The first was an impromptu spa night she roped him into. y/n didn’t force Rooster to paint his nails with her, but she did treat him to a sheet mask. Rooster would never admit it to his fellow aviators, but he especially enjoyed the bath she let him join; the soothing warm water ebbing at their skin was complimented by bath oils, a bath fizzy, candles, and some well-deserved glasses of wine.

The second time Rooster found out the value y/n placed in her skincare was during one of their many sleepovers at her house.

Rooster was pulled from his post-nut daze when he felt the mattress shifting beside him. y/n tiptoed to the bathroom and began quietly digging through her cabinets.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Rooster called out and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His voice was rough and riddled with exhaustion, but his curiosity and desire to have y/n cuddled by his side got the best of him. She knocked over a bottle in surprise when she heard his voice.

“Sorry, Roos! I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m just doing my skincare routine.”

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face and pulled his brows together.

“We literally just screwed for almost two hours straight and you’re worried about putting on lotion?” Bradley’s voice came out with an incredulous deadpan.

“If you’re gonna keep me up all night, I need to at least apply my eye cream, Bradshaw.”

Bradley stood with his chest pressed against y/n’s back, his arms linked around her waist. He let her be for the most part and pressed intermittent kisses to her exposed neck. y/n pulled at her skin in between applying serums and creams. Miraculously, her time working in hospitals hadn’t given her too many wrinkles or gray hair, but she felt like her youthful beauty was dwindling. After all, the past few months took quite a toll on her. It was especially easy to get stuck in her head when one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life was standing right behind her, looking absolutely flawless.

The intrusive thoughts kept piling up and tears started to pool in y/n’s eyes. Rooster had seen months worth of tears already that night, so y/n buried her face into her hands. Bradley’s head snapped up at the motion. He kissed her temple and gently pulled at her wrists so he could see her face in the reflection of the mirror. The silent tears streaming down her face broke his heart.

“What’s wrong, y/n/n?” Rooster asked, concern painting his features. y/n wouldn’t meet his eyes while she picked at her nails. Her lips twisted together as she took a shaky breath.

“I just worry that I’m not enough, you know? I mean… I’m not getting any younger and I get exhausted from work so I can't just put out all the time and…” y/n started rambling and got herself worked up. All her insecurities spilled out in a flurry of words. “that’s why Ethan cheated, I guess,” y/n’s voice was small by the end of her rant.

Rooster’s jaw clenched at the pain Richards put y/n through. He squeezed his arms tight around her middle and pressed a kiss to her temple before turning her to face him directly.

“What that asshole did does not define you,” Rooster’s voice was steady and his gaze was serious. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. You work hard and the world is a better place because of you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’m sure I’ll think the same thing years and years from now.” Bradley paused to let his words sink in. He softly squeezed her hips before continuing.

“He was a damn fool for letting you go. But I’m so glad he did. Maybe that’s selfish but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you in my arms right now.” y/n let out a small gasp and Bradley held her gaze for as long as she’d let him. The weight of his words was heavy, but y/n felt lighter than she had in days.

After that night a few weeks ago, Rooster and y/n were closer than ever. y/n supposed that was bound to happen after Bradley saw her at her lowest. She felt good when she was with Rooster. Really good. y/n was an independent woman and tried not to rely too much on other people, especially after what happened with Ethan, but she couldn’t help the gravitational pull she felt towards Bradley.

The only problem was that her travel nursing contract would be over in just a month.

y/n didn’t have any solid plans of what she’d do after finishing up her time at the base hospital. From the moment she got there, her plan was to leave. Maybe she’d sign a contract in a different city, maybe she’d go stay with friends and family for a while. There was nothing keeping her here. Not until now.

Each day she spent with Rooster she couldn’t help the pang of pain in her chest when she remembered her mental countdown.  She also felt guilty that he didn’t know when her contract was up. She told him on their first date that it was a four-month contract, but they hadn’t really talked about it since then.

When there were just 29 days left in her contract, Rooster went over to y/n’s house with a pizza box in hand. y/n greeted him at the door with a smile, but her face fell when she saw the solemn look on Bradley’s face. She shut the door behind him and cautiously followed him to the kitchen. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, y/n tried to get Rooster’s attention but he busied himself with gathering plates and drinks for them.

“Roos, what’s wrong?” y/n asked hesitantly. Rooster typically didn’t show when he was upset, but y/n saw right through him. He set his jaw with a heavy sigh before turning to face y/n.

“I’m being deployed for 3 weeks. It’s a shorter mission but…,” he trailed off with a shrug. y/n was surprised to see him like this. Normally Rooster was ecstatic and couldn’t help but grin when he talked about his job. There was nothing he loved more than flying, so to see him disappointed about being sent on a mission was strange.

“Why are you upset?” y/n asked carefully. Rooster’s brows scrunched together and his head tilted to the side as if to say Isn’t it obvious?

“I’ll be in the middle of nowhere and you’ll be here. Reception will be shoddy at best, so I don’t know if I’ll even be able to call you.” He looked like someone kicked his puppy. y/n’s heart ached at the thought of being away from Rooster for so long, but her teasing nature got the better of her.

“Are you saying you’re going to miss me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” y/n wiggled her eyebrows and rounded the island to wrap her arms around his waist. Bradley rolled his eyes and leaned down to peck her lips.

“Yeah, I am, nurse y/n,” Bradley teased, throwing her own professional title back at her.

They ate dinner on the couch while a cheesy rom-com played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid any attention to it. y/n sat with her legs thrown across Rooster’s lap and he used his free hand to massage her exposed skin. They told each other about their days–y/n shared the meal-friendly versions of her interesting cases at the ER and Rooster explained some of the offense maneuvers he worked on in training. The aviator slang still felt like a foreign language to y/n, but she was slowly understanding bits and pieces.

The light-hearted mood dissipated after they finished eating when the conversation drifted back towards Rooster’s upcoming deployment. The mission was classified so there wasn’t much he could tell y/n, but he could at least give her a vague timeline.

Her stomach dropped when Bradley told her he’d be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. If the mission stayed on schedule, there would only be one week left in her contract by the time he got back. But y/n put on a brave face. Rooster was the one being sent into enemy territory, not her. This wasn’t about her. The last thing she or the Navy needed was for him to worry about her while he was flying at warp speed with missiles on his tail.

y/n moved to straddle Rooster’s lap and tossed both of their plates to the side. Her nails gently scratched at the nape of his neck and she brought her lips close to his ear.

“We better make tonight count then, huh?” she whispered. Rooster was done for. Without missing a beat, he shot up from the couch, holding y/n close to him with his hands on the back of her thighs. y/n emitted a squeal when Rooster playfully slapped her ass cheek on the way to her bedroom

Bradley spent the night at y/n’s house, opting to leave earlier than normal in the morning so he could swing by his house and grab his things. His 4:30 a.m. alarm was nothing short of a rude awakening for y/n, but it was even worse to watch Bradley get ready to leave.

y/n held his hand, trailing behind him to the door in a sleepy stupor. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sobered up once they stood next to his bronco in the early morning darkness.

“Be safe out there, Roos. Come back in one piece. And don’t do anything stupid while I’m not there to patch you up,” y/n said with a small smile in between yawns, but she was completely serious. Rooster couldn’t help but chuckle and grin at the sentiment.

“I will, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I get the chance,” Rooster promised with a kiss to the top of her head while y/n hugged him tighter than she ever had before. The kiss they shared was passionate and deep and far too scandalous to be happening out in the street where y/n’s neighbors could see, but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

y/n leaned across the open window of the closed driver's door to press a final peck to Bradley’s lips. After he put his key in the ignition and started up the old car, she poked his chest.

“This isn’t a goodbye, just so you know,” y/n said pointedly. There was a double meaning to her words when her thoughts drifted to the quickly approaching end of her contract. Rooster nodded with a grin, oblivious to her secondary thoughts.

“I’ll see ya later, baby.”

a/n: rooster is an ass man. you can try to change my mind but you'll probably be unsuccessful. as always, reblogs & comments are much appreciated! i love hearing what you guys think :)

edit: i changed my mind. rooster is a boob man. he just happens to be fond of y/n's ass too.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

[avalonsrealm]

of silvermoon

“I just don’t see why you even want to open it. Even if it wasn’t him, it’s the Horde!! They’re already the enemy.” Dustin paced around the room behind Steve., his hands flying in all different directions. His curls are barely contained beneath the shiny new Alliance hat he had gotten just a few weeks ago for Christmas.

“Dustin, man, c’mon. You’re taking this way too seriously.”

Steve peered at the message in his chat window. The battle tag was different: gold_dust, but the typing was the same. Steve would recognize that tone anywhere, even through the screen.

‘hey pretty boy ;). whatre u doin in my neck of the woods?’

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed.

‘questing. duh.’

“Idiot -” he murmured under his breath.

“You - you responded. You actually responded!” Dustin exclaims. “Do you not remember how he whipped our asses in PvP the other week?! For no reason! He hunted us, and you’re sending him -”

“Dustin!” Steve snaps, turning around in his plush gaming chair, the one that Dustin and Lucas saved up for months to buy him for Christmas. The one that says “King Steve” on the back with a crown embroidered underneath it.

“Too seriously,” he repeats. His headset is perched neatly around his neck, the black one with the cat ear attachments Robin had thought were adorable. They were also a Christmas gift. “Besides, you don’t even know if it’s him or not, it’s not even the same battle tag.”

Steve’s always been a terrible liar.

Dustin marches over and peers at the screen for a moment.

“It’s him,” he says flatly, no hesitation. Steve really hates the kid sometimes. He’s too smart. “Stop fraternizing with the enemy Steve. Or I’m telling Lucas too and then you’ll have to deal with us both.”

Steve holds up a finger, checks his phone briefly.

Five new messages from Lucas SInclair.

“You’ve already told him. That threat doesn’t work on me anymore. Now did you come here to level up your new Night Elf Warlock in Lich King because it’s your favorite x-pac to dungeon in, or am I going to be playing this game all by myself tonight?”

Dustin just rolls his eyes and grumbles as he gets his chunky gaming laptop all set up on Steve’s desk and logs into World of Warcraft.

“I still -” he starts, as his toon loads into the game.

“Nope. I’m not listening to anything you say about this anymore,” Steve interrupts, even though he knows it won’t stop Dustin for long. It buys him some time though.

Besides, it’s not like Dustin really notices when gold_dust loads into one of their dungeons, playing an Orc shaman. At least, not until he nearly dies and gold_dust heals him in the nick of time.

“Oh COME ON!!” He shouts, slapping a hand down on the desk.

Steve cackles.

‘gottem ;),’ comes the chat reply.

The friend request from gold_dust comes shortly after, followed by a message of ‘burner account,’ before they log off.

Steve knows exactly who it is. Never once doubted it.

So when Dustin goes home a few hours later, Steve makes a new account, a burner account - africaabytoto - so all the thousands of people who have seen the memes and the rivalry and the meeting at BlizzCon can’t find him as easy, and he sends a new friend request to gold_dust, who’s come back online.

‘Burner account :^),’ is what he sends back, once he’s rushed a new character.

A Blood Elf Hunter.

For The Horde.

[burnedbyshoto]

hawks_littledove.mp3

— You’re an avid listener to NSFW ASMR artist Hawks. It’s just your luck that he’s offered to have phone sex with you.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, slight abuse of power/influence, phone sex, masturbation, degradation, praise, nsfw asmr artist!hawks

word count: 5,018

a/n: my keyboard is broken and i could actually cry. but hey, hawks do be sexy even tho I would never trust him with my life. also LOL this might be a call out to a lot of us, do not be offended or I will cry.

kinktober day 14 main kink: phone sex | kinktober masterlist

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Fantasizing about being in relationships with fictional characters was entirely healthy and normal.

That was something you believed to the core. It was fictional; thus, no one but you were to be hurt at the end of the day. The character, being fake, could never have an opinion because you must be real in order to have an opinion. So when you were between boyfriends, you discovered a new anime, and before you could stop yourself, you fell hard for a character.

It started as a mild obsession.

You had looked up fanart via google images, your heart warming when you saw the plethora of different fanart. The anime itself had been in circulation for a few years now, the manga for much longer, so the content was endless. Then google images wasn’t enough, and you began crossing into Twitter and Tumblr.

The fanart became better, more engrossing, and definitely much more NSFW. And then, one night during your endless rabbit hole down Tumblr after your daily search on Twitter, you stilled when seeing a new type of content.

⇒ grey fullbuster x reader

The obsession grew worse.

So much so that you had followed nearly five hundred self insert writers and artists on Tumblr, and maybe seven hundred artists, meta writers, and thread makers on twitter. But three months into consuming all the content you could find, you came across a new name that made you tilt your head.

Hawks Fierce Wings

It was a name that was being repeated and heavily talked about on both sites. It was an ASMR artist, apparently, and you frowned at the thought. You didn’t have anything against ASMR videos, but you weren’t exactly sure how to handle an anime ASMR artist. Were they cosplaying while making all those weird ASMR sounds? You really didn’t have any idea, but due to the immense boredom of your lazy day in, you decided to hell with it and tried out his most popular video.

It was simply entitled: Hawks is Jealous.

Did you have any idea as to who Hawks was? God, no, you didn’t. But if it was just some random cosplay he was going to do, you didn’t think it was going to matter. So as the only slightly educated ASMR listener, you never truly became invested when it was a thing; you slipped on your earbuds and pressed play.

The introduction screen faded into an illustrated picture of a slightly handsome man, and some calming yet tense music played in the background. You shifted, eyebrows drew as you waited for the ASMR session to begin, and when it did, you were not ready.

“I saw you walking around with that asshole today,” a voice practically growled in your ear, and you froze.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no!

For almost an entire hour, you sat glued to your sofa, your fingers digging into your lap as the jealous, spiteful words of this man named Hawks poured bitterly in your ear. His words were a near aggravated assault on you and definitely something you were beyond uncomfortable hearing from a stranger, but there was something about his voice that kept you there. Maybe it was the tenor of his tone or the way there was this sly, cunning scent to his words that he seemed to hide deep within his throat, but there was something that kept you there.

The second the passionate, heated kissing noises and heavy moans began to spill from his lips, you screeched, slamming your laptop closed as your cheeks pounded heavily.

Oh my god?!

It took a bit, but eventually, you were able to finish the audio and quickly figured out why he was an NSFW artist. You had never, ever heard a man eat a pussy fake or real as eagerly or vigorously as he did. Your hands were gripping the pants of your leggings, and your chest heaved.

Oh, motherfucking shit.

Finding out there were almost seventy other videos for you to still experience sent you scrambling for more, and eventually, you had to confess you were obsessed. Despite the anime fandoms you had discovered him for, Hawks seemed to be more famous for the content he created as himself. His real name was unknown by the looks of it, and he was only addressed as Hawks by his audience, something you caught on to quickly. So only after creating a new profile for his Youtube account, you made quick work of liking and commenting on every single of his already published seventy-eight nearly one hour and thirty-minute videos. 

Each one was different.

Each one filled with various roadmaps on how Hawks' scenarios would play out for you — the listener. When he used his own persona, he called the listener his little dove or his chicken nugget, sometimes his KFC thigh, or his shish kabob. 

You were glad at the very least he didn’t call you by any of those nicknames when pretending to fuck you at a speed only a “porn-is-my-only-education-on-porn” virgin teenage boy. You knew it wasn’t ideal, usually, but for some reason, it just worked. You commented on everything, read his summaries and thoughts on each video. Eventually, when you found yourself on his final, most recent video, you were ready to go a step further.

The Patreon app on your phone seemed jarringly out of place as you opened the app and subscribed yourself to Hawks' highest tiered option for the price of twenty USD.

And when you got your access to his page, you were immersed in more heavier, better content.

It was a goldmine in a sea of fools gold, and you absolutely went insane.

You weren’t sure if you were insane, needy, or just straight-up idiotic for scrolling to the very first Patreon post and indulging in the content Hawks created. 

There was a stark difference between the warnings alone between the Youtube videos and the Patreon posts. While the porn was readily accessible on Youtube, the kinkiest thing that ever happened in a video was a slight implication that Hawks had left the listener on a vibrator and fuckmachine as he went to go talk to the visiting neighbors.

It was a slight, tiny zone out and miss a detail, but one you had clung onto like an obsessed psycho and even commented on in your comment on the post. Of course, Hawks hadn’t responded, not that you had ever expected him to because all things considered, a video that was eight months old and hadn’t done that well, to begin with, didn’t seem like anything he would remember: notifications and all. 

But Patreon? Oh good, sweet, ravishing Patreon.

The very first video was of the following:

Stepbrother!Hawks fucks Stepsister!Listener in the stairwell during Christmas Dinner.

After praying and swearing to all the deities of the world that you were merely a person with a voice kink for this man and not, in fact, a perverted pseudo-incest worshiper, you clicked on it and began. It was downright sinful.

There were active voices whispered in the background as Hawks laughed about how fucking slutty you were for letting your brother fuck you like this. In the hallway, like a dog, where anyone in your joint family could walk out into. He laughed that you probably wanted it, how your wet ass pussy was greedily sucking him in, so how could you even begin to deny your lust for your brother.

You had to take a break five times during that audio.

Eventually, you do end up catching up.

Each video he had ever posted to your disposal, and most likely due to the different tier levels, you always commented on the videos. Even if it made you feel awkward for lusting over things months old, even if there were no other comments on the videos, which was much more common than you thought, you always commented and liked. It wasn’t anything ever crazy, you had seen the rarest comments bring a whole essay of analysis on why they loved it or the hating words, but you kept it simple.

Just something to keep Hawks spirits high without draining you even further of energy.

A simple: holy shit, that was hot as fucking hell!!!! you never disappoint me!!!

You never expected anything out of it; as a matter of fact, you had merely thought that you were doing the least by merely appreciating his creations when, one night, a few hours after you had gotten home. Your phone chimed with an alert.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise; you hadn’t realized there was going to be a new release after he had just updated four days ago. Still, you popped in your earbuds and began the audio with a simple title.

i fuk ur stupid lil pus until u cri

He wasn’t precisely putting much effort into his titles these days, but his tags were definitely accurate and entirely explicit in what was to come. And in this newest video, the prominent tag was degradation.

You weren’t entirely into degradation, but still, you did what you had to do because you weren’t turned off by it. With the beginning sounds of the music playing in the background, you warped into the situation Hawks carefully carved.

But, oh?

Your face simmered with heat as Hawks dirty words dripped from the earbuds, the wet, squelching noise of your cunt and throat being fucked like some inanimate object made you soak through your panties as his disparaging words burned against your spine like a hot brand. After the thirty-minute audio was finished. Your body trembling with the aftershocks of an orgasm that had come despite the lack of actual stimulation of your clit, and you panted on your bed.

Opening your phone once again, you quickly liked the new audio and typed out your comment.

listen, i know i always comment about how fucking hot this shit is, but i have /never/ fucking soaked through my panties… you just did that and i expect a full refund for these panties 💦

You pressed send and, without so much of a second thought, continued your night. You had dinner, talked with friends, and ended the night curled back on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a simple sit-com playing on the TV. The familiar sound of the Patreon alert rang in your ear, and you frowned, confused.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up the device and nearly shrieked at the sight of the information the notification that said:

Hawks F.W.: lets see those panties before i refund anything

A chill ran down your spine as you quickly put together the indications of this message, and you smirked, despite your quivering hands. 

Me: I have a seven inch dick requirement before seeing any of the goods — yes, that includes my panties

And from that very moment, you began a strange arrangement between you and the NSFW ASMR artist Hawks.

.

..

.

Working was the worst part of your life, you would say.

At work, you would sit in your small 4x4 cubicle, your shelves stacked with plenty of papers and items you needed, not to mention the computer that took up the majority of your desk. You weren’t quite sure what your job here was, you sort of sat at your desk and did meaningless assignments when assigned, but you did nothing for the most part. 

Before becoming an active Hawks stan, you would spend your time doing nothing playing video games. You had somehow managed to install a VPN onto your hard drive so that your employers wouldn’t be able to see what was on your screen outside of the home screen. They couldn’t trace what you did all day, but they could care less, given you got all your work completed on time and done in an over exceptional way.

But lately, since you had dropped into this… engrossed whore like relationship with Hawks, things changed. 

To be honest, it still shocks you to no end when he tells you that he had always been aware of you. Well, with your consistent, ever appearing comments on his posts and overall enthusiasm for everything he posted, it was hard to not be aware. The mental image of your soaked through panties after a long day at his own work had sent him over the edge, and he finally messaged you.

Through the DM’s in Patreon, the two of you grew to become quite the friends with benefits. He would send you countless personalized audio files because you had quickly confessed to your voice kink and how his voice sent your stomach into hormonal knots. In return, you’d send the picture of an occasional soaked panty, and if he was lucky, an audio clip of your pathetic whines back to his audios.

You couldn’t complain about this arrangement.

But as the number of his patrons doubled, and he wanted to entice his subscribers with paying him even more money, Hawks began to offer a bimonthly personalized five minute audios for his $20 tier. The fans poured into that spot, and Hawks and proudly sent you the new number of adoring fans he was getting. On account of growing platforms such as Tiktok, the number of new listeners he got was nearly exponential, as he currently passed one million followers last week. 

The cheeky bastard was also making enough money to stop working his regular work hours anymore. Choosing to transition slowly into his Patreon career while recording.

Hawks, however, seemed to have other ideas for your eventual personalized voice audio.

Hawks had simply asked if, by any chance, you were going to be working tomorrow the night before. Groaning loudly in recognition of your work schedule, you had texted him back that you were going to be working. Snidely including the fact that you weren’t rich like him, you needed the tedious old nine to five job.

Hawks: how utterly boring anyway u can b free around 2?

Me: Eh… probably not. Busy girl w busy schedule, ill be back from lunch so no break Why?

Hawks: well, u knw tht uve been amzing & th bst follower so i wanted 2 give u smthing better then the personalized audio

Me: Oh? Well, what is it?’

Hawks: pick up tmrw n find out

He had changed the subject immediately afterward by dodging all of your questions with ease. So you dropped it, and the two of you resumed a night of flirting. But now, sitting in your small cubicle, your eyes flashing to the clock that read 1:57 p.m., sweat began to build on your palm.

You peered down to your phone as you waited for something, anything from Hawks to show up. The fucker was too cheeky, evasive, and quick for his own good. You felt like pouting as you glared at the phone, waiting for the screen to light up.

And you stilled when finally, at precisely 1:59 p.m., your phone gleamed with light. You couldn’t abandon your computer mouse quicker than you did as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and reading the message from Hawks.

Hawks: do u have earbuds?

Me: Yes?

Hawks: good put them on n pick up

The moment you had read the first message, you were already pulling out your earbuds, synching them up to your phone, and placing them into your ear. But your jaw dropped when, for the first time, the call feature highlighted onto the screen, the time immediately changing to that of 2:00 p.m. The decline or accept button had never looked as daunting as it did right now.

Despite the call trying to go through, you still saw his follow up.

Hawks: if u dont pick up u wont get shit

[Accept]

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as both fear, apprehension, and excitement boiled through your veins, the hammering blood pounding in your ears as you waited for some sort of noise on the opposite side of the line.

“Little dove?” Hawks' voices filled your ears, and despite yourself, you smiled softly. The naturalness of his voice sends warm thumps down your spine.

“Hi, Hawks,” you whisper breathlessly, your head already checking to make sure your neighboring cubicle mates didn’t try to look over the divisions to stare at you. For the most part, the office building was quiet except for the phone calls, the clanking of computer keys, and the monotonous music playing softly on the speaker's head. 

“Whatcha doing?” he drawled, and you felt your skin heat up when you heard the all too familiar sound of his shoes hitting the top of his desk, the soft whine of his chair as he leaned back onto it. “Are you really at work?”

“What do you mean, am I really at work?” you squeaked, half horrified at the way the lazy, warm heat of lust was infiltrating your body at the sound of his voice, and the annoyance that he thought you had been lying? “Of course I am; it’s two p.m. on a Wednesday!”

“Ah, so little dove-chan is a raging pervert who engages in phone sex to bypass her long hours at work?” Hawks sighed his tone that of understanding and dismissal. You splutter. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“I do not do… that!” you stammer, your face feeling like hot cinders, your fingers and eyes double-checking to make sure that the audio was going to your earbuds and your earbuds only. You also couldn’t help the way your eyes swept around you, trying to make sure you hadn’t accidentally invited unwanted attention. “I said I was busy!”

“But, you picked up my call?”

“You said, or else!”

“Mmm, okay, I think I see,” Hawks tutted, and although you had never seen what you supposed to be his handsome face, you could imagine a lazy, toothy smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind using your little cubicle to talk you into fucking yourself good for me.”

Your jaw drops.

It hits the desk, and the muffled shriek of utter humiliation is only silenced because you bit onto your tongue like a rabid animal.

“Aw, you sound so excited for me already, little dove. I bet you want to know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? I just know that I’m going to make you feel so... good…”

“Hawks!” you plea in a hushed whisper, your heart hammering where you sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Sure, you had definitely played his audios before to pass the time, but never before in your existence had you had actual phone sex. This was riskier than just listening to his audios; his audios always had a pattern, a way to escape from the madness of his voice when people were closer than you’d like. But this? No, there was no escape. “I’m at work! I c-can’t!”

“But, fuck, I want you so bad,” Hawks' voice dipped into a gravely tone, his voice just perfectly scratchy enough that your shoulders trembled in unspoken, untouched want. “I want to feel your cunt around my cock, baby, your pussy is so hot and I want to be the fucking lucky bastard that gets to fuck you through your bed.”

“O-Oh my god…”

“I’ve been thinking of what your tits look like,” Hawks continues on, his voice continuing in the style you liked the most. It was raw, heavy, and deep. No character impersonations, just him, pure Hawks. “I hope they bounce the way they do when I imagine you riding me. I want to see you moan when I kiss the underside of your tit, I want to see your face when you realize that you’re my girl, nobody's else's, but mine.”

Heat floods your panties at his words, your shallow breaths making him chuckle on the other end. 

“You’d be so lucky to be just mine, wouldn’t you, little dove?” Hawks snaps, his voice demanding a response, and you heave.

You look around, no one is near, and you croak out: “I’d be so lucky.”

“Louder.”

“I’d be so lucky.”

“Mm, there we go,” Hawks laughs, and your ears prickle for any noise that may indicate that someone was listening in. “What? Are you getting nervous that your needy ass will be heard by your coworkers right now? Answer me.”

“Mhmm,” you hum loudly, your cunt pulsing with more incredible heat and your hands shaking with a slight fear of being caught.

“Aww, don’t worry, little dove. I’m sure your boss will understand that you’re my newest fucktoy and will let me continue. Maybe they’ll want to join in?”

You whimper softly, shifting in your seat at that thought. You didn’t really want your boss coming anywhere near you, he was old and gross for one, and nothing could take the place of this beautiful man's voice in your ear right now.

“Oh, was that a no? You don’t want other people fucking you, do you, y/n? I bet you only want to have my cock in your tight little pussy, bet you want to watch the way that greedy little thing sucks me in, begging for my seed. Would you want me to cum deep inside you? You would like that little dove; you’d like to be full of my cum.”

“H-Hawks,” you keen as quietly as you can, your hips shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your heart hammering in your throat. The pressing heat in your cunt is growing, your panties growing with wet slick as Hawks' voice whispers down your ear, filling every empty and void space in your brain until you were having trouble focusing on the very much public spot you were in.

Hawks let out a soft, guttural moan, and you froze, face entirely combusting into an inferno as the familiar slick slapping of his fapping cock filled your ear. Immediately, you forgot everything.

“A-Are you—?!” you splutter, unable to find the words or the energy to come up with a way to ask if he was masturbating right now. Your eyes spun, your mind in a complete haze as soft, raunchy moans spilled from his lips, striking against your nerves and soul with each successive sound.

“I’m only trying to help you out here, dove,” Hawks growled, undoubtedly in effect to a rather loud smack of his fist colliding with his thrusting hip. “You’re the little office slut who picked up a phone call to entice in phone sex. I bet you knew exactly what I was going to do, and your pathetic, needy whore self caved to my instructions.”

Your fingers curled into the armrest of your chair.

“I bet this makes your boring ass job tolerable, the perfect distraction to a shit job, then imagining a few minutes of fucking yourself against my hard cock.”

“That’s not true!”

“No?” Hawks laughed, not believing you any more than you did. “So you wouldn’t hate it if I showed up and fucked you into the wall of your cubicle? You wouldn’t mind if I claimed your sweet-smelling pussy against your desk for everyone to hear? I know you can scream like a bitch in heat. I know that pretty little cunt of yours would milk my cock dry. Oh, I just know you would look so fucking sexy with your back arched, eyes closed, and you begging for hours just to cum. You wouldn’t cum without my permission, right?”

You gasped, heart fluttering, hammering in your chest as you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I need a verbal answer, little dove.”

The heat in your core was blistering, your thighs shaking with your unadulterated lust and need as you ground into the cushion of your chair. All logic and moral long gone as he snarled and moaned your name in your ear, the slick of his fapping cock echoing like a great bell in your ear. You wanted to hear him cum, wanted to listen to the pithering sound of his echoing moans as he spilled the contents of his balls onto his hand — and how you wished it was your womb.

“I won’t cum w-without your permission!” you whispered, your skin shivering with your fear of being caught. 

“God, you sound like such a dirty fucking bitch. I bet your pussy is fucking soaked already. Bet you really want to run that slutty embarrassed finger against your clit but don’t want to be caught by your perverted coworkers,” Hawks hissed, his breaths turning into steady, heavy hot pants. You mewl softly, confirming his spoken thoughts, and he huffs out a laugh. “How many fingers do you normally shove up that pretty cunt of yours, little dove?”

“T-Three!” you gasp, your forehead pressing to the cool of your desk, your eyes glazed over and looking at the entrance of your cubicle, fervently wishing that no one tries to check on you as you grind against your stable chair. “O-Only three fit.”

“Fuck, you really do have a tight cunt, don’t you,” Hawks snaps, the wet sounds of his fisting hand around his cock a beautiful melody in your ear that makes you whine at the back of your throat. “Bet you can’t even fit cocks up your cunt without lube, huh. You gotta stay on top, or else you’ll get hurt with how thick and long my cock will be up that baby pussy of yours.”

“H-Hawks!” you grit out, the friction of grinding on the seat no longer working.

“Go to the bathroom, now,” Hawks commands, the small gasps on his voice from his approaching orgasm more than enough ammo for you to do as told.

You sprint to the bathroom, the slick of your cunt hot, and evident to you as you sped to the bathroom. Your phone clenched in your hand as you locked the door behind you, glad the room was empty. Barely managing to get yourself into the stall, the toilet paper placed on the seat as you raised your legs up, already prepared. The skirt you wore was bunched above your ass, and the panties you wore, stretching out around your knees.

“Sounds like you’re ready to start fucking that pussy for me,” Hawks laughs, but there's no humor, just bite. “Put in three fingers, now.”

Without even arguing or caring, three fingers slip into your cunt, and you cry at the feeling of your fingers completely stretching you out. The smell of sex and slick filling your nose as your fingers slick up, fucking your tight cunt as you moan louder and louder for Hawks. 

“God, your fucking pussy is so fucking wet, I can hear it from here!” Hawks moans, the frantic sound of his drilling hips gaining speed and momentum. 

“I want it to be you!” you moan, your face burning in your humiliation. “I want it to be you fucking my pussy, claiming me in this bathroom. I need you, Hawks, I want your cock so badly!”

“Fuck,” Hawks gasps, something tumbling in the background. “Such sweet words for a fucking dirty ass cumslut,” he growls, and your legs shake, your clit and cunt thrumming with your increasing arousal and pit of tightness in your core. 

“HAWKS, FUCK!” you sob as your hips try to start a merciless speed against your fingers, your body trying to match the speed in which Hawks was fucking his own hand.

“Keep screaming my name, whore.” Hawks gasps, his noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder and louder, your eyes crossing in satisfaction. “Screaming my name like the fucking slutty mess you are. All this shit just to get me to fuck you? God, you’re so fucking pathetic y/n. Begging for me, begging for more? I think you’re my favorite little dove ever, gonna make you mine whenever I get to fuck that pussy.”

“Hawks!” you wail his name again, your arms and pussy throbbing with the energy it takes to keep up with his inhumane speeds. Your vision seeing stars as you tremble more and more, your legs slipping from the toilet seat, yet. “I am your whore, your little dove. Please let me come, please! You fuck me so well, fucking hell, please, I needa cum, I needa cum!”

“Cum with me,” he snaps, his voice so deep, so dangerously smooth. It was precisely what you needed, the voice kink you had for his tenor exactly fulfilled entirely with that simple, last command. And just like that, your jaw slackens, head slamming backward, and pleasurable waves crash through you.

Your fingers still rock at your clit, and your vice gripped walls, your toes curling within your shoes as you soundlessly scream. Hawks, on the other end, is practically snarling, voice deep and altogether dangerous as grunt after grunt leaves him, and you can imagine the milk-white cum splattered all over his chest and hand. A beautiful, perfect sight that you wish you could see for yourself.

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you sit on the toilet, still entirely exhausted as you heave for air. 

“I think that was the best fucking orgasm I ever had,” you mumble, your eyes closed, not ready to stand up and move. “Thank you.”

“I’m good at what I… at what I do,” Hawks stumbles, husky exhaustion ringing in his own voice. “Now, little dove, finish up work, and I promise there’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you’re done.”

Not entirely agreeing, but not disagreeing with his command to go finish you last… two and a half hours at work, you begrudgingly said goodbye to Hawks before washing your hands and exiting the bathroom.

When five o’clock came, you watched as your phone screen lit up, and your face flushed as you read the DM from Hawks.

Hawks: this is my fav audio now ↳ hawks_littledove.mp3 but you surprised me today, so in case u ever want to have more fun sometime  call me 03-9183-2495 ;)

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Eight

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: the beginning of the end :,) if u made it this far i think ur cool

***

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” Lana asks.

Nesta closes her eyes, letting the picture swirl and take shape in her mind.

This time last year, she would have imagined nothing. Nothing but a desk in a busy law office, and maybe a nice apartment if she was lucky. That would be it. But now she sees…

“Somewhere with good food and good music,” she muses. “Maybe a sea breeze.” The sun-faded buildings of Portofino fade into the foreground of her imagination. “There are lots of people with me,” she hears the sound of children shrieking and Cassian’s rumbling laughter, “but it’s okay, because I love every one of them.” Her eyes open. “Is that a good answer?”

A near invisible smile tugs at the corners of Lana’s lips. “You tell me, Nesta. Do you like what you see?”

“It’s a little too cinematic if you ask me,” Nesta says nonchalantly, picking up her bag from the ground, “but I suppose all dreams are that way.”

“It’s a good dream,” Lana says. “A worthy dream, and one you deserve to chase.”

Nesta shrugs lightly, not too worried about the burden of the future for once. “Maybe I will.”

“In that case, congratulations on completing your final therapy session,” Lana says, setting her notebook aside. “You’ve made some amazing progress this year.”

Nesta gives her therapist her signature what’s-wrong-with-you look. “I’m going on vacation, not firing you for good. I’ll see you again in two months.”

“Two months can be enough to lose all your progress, if you forget everything you went through to get here.”

Nesta isn’t stupid. She knows that she isn’t suddenly desperate to make babies or be maid of honor at her sisters’ weddings or some bullshit. She knows that the image she just dreamed up, with Cassian and kids and her unburdened heart, is likely more than five years away. If it happens at all, it could be ten, even twenty years of hard work away.

She’s not nearly finished growing yet. “I’ll see you in two months, Lana,” she repeats.

Lana smiles at her fully this time. “Enjoy your summer, Nesta.”

***

The air is different in the Smokies.

Nesta rolls the truck windows down so she can inhale it, relish it. Wind whips her hair every which way as they drive down the winding freeway cutting through the lush mountains, and something about the look on her face makes Cassian chuckle and press down on the accelerator.

Nesta watches the red needle on the speedometer cross ninety, then one hundred. She can barely feel the June heat with how fast they’re going.

In the end, it was Feyre and Elain that reached out and invited her to the Tennessee summer home. Cassian had made it obvious that he wouldn’t push her to go if she didn’t want to, and at first she really didn’t want to. But Feyre had looked so hopeful when she asked Nesta to come with them, and even Elain had revealed a glimmer of eagerness that Nesta would say yes.

So against all odds, she agreed to go.

Exchanging one mountain home for another isn’t much of a getaway, but Nesta can’t help but be excited. Even with the unhappy memories of her childhood, she loves these hills more than any other.

The pure exhilaration of being back in Tennessee overcomes her at some point during the drive, knocking her out in the passenger seat where she sits. In her drowsy state, she distantly hears the windows being rolled up, before feeling Cassian’s hand guide her head to rest against the glass. The rest of the drive is warm and sunny, enough to lull her into a deep sleep.

The next thing Nesta’s aware of is the crunch of gravel and the feeling of the truck tires slowing to a stop. Fingers brush against her heated cheek, and then Cassian is murmuring at her to wake up.

Blinking her eyes open, Nesta twists around to see their destination.

For a moment, she thinks she’s still dreaming.

��Welcome to Holly House,” Cassian says with a grin. The house in question is quaint and sprawling at the same time, the way most upper class Southerners like their houses. The whole thing gleams with a fresh coat of white paint under the afternoon sun, complemented by a sky blue wraparound porch. Colonial style windows and proud columns decorating the facade of the building makes it look like the setting of a fairy tale.

Beyond it, Nesta can see cherry blossoms. Pink, fluttering cherry blossoms that fly off their branches and swirl through the air, some of them disappearing into the thick woods behind the house. Woods that Nesta has walked countless times before.

“The rest of the guys won’t get here until tomorrow afternoon,” Cassian is saying to her, “so we have the whole place to our—”

Nesta isn’t listening anymore. She unbuckles her seatbelt and shoves open the truck door, hobbling outside on unsteady feet to make sure she isn’t hallucinating things. But no, this is…

“Cherrywood,” she breathes, eyes wide in disbelief.

Cassian gets out of the truck, coming up beside Nesta to slip his hand into her shorts pocket. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“This is Rhysand’s summer home?” Nesta points at the house. “This place?”

Cassian looks around at the building grounds in confusion. “Has been for the last two decades, yeah.”

It’s been eleven years since she last stepped foot on these grounds.

With wonderment in her voice, she utters to Cassian, “I’ve been here before.”

At his puzzled look, she explains, “I lived just on the other side of those woods.” She points to the trees. “There’s an old cracked road that hasn’t been maintained since it was first paved, and you can follow it straight to the poor side of town. Whenever I wanted to get away, I would come down that road and trek through the woods, and I’d end up here. I stopped coming because…” she trails off.

Because she got caught that one time.

Cassian seems to realize it at the same moment as her. His hand slips out of her pocket. “You…”

Nesta remembers a tall boy with shocked eyes and shaggy hair, and she shakes her head slowly in forceful denial. It can’t be true. It’s too much of a coincidence.

But he points at her, then her feet. “You—with the size six Converse,” he sputters. “It was you.”

Before Nesta can confirm or deny it, he grabs her by the wrist and starts tugging her along, up the porch stairs and inside the house.

Even with Rhysand and Feyre’s renovations, it looks undeniably the same as all those years ago. The living room is to her right and the farmhouse style kitchen and dining area is to the left, though she speeds by it all as Cassian pulls her farther inside the house, to the closet beneath the curving stairs.

He lets go of her hand to search the small closet, muttering, “I know they were here somewhere.” But the closet looks like it was stripped empty for renovations, with only bolts in the walls indicating that shoe racks used to hang there.

Cassian turns and heads for the stairs, and Nesta blindly follows him. She also wants to go upstairs, wants to see if the bay window looking out onto the garden has stayed the same.

Like he read her mind, he leads her straight to the room she used to spend hours reading in. It’s smaller than all the other bedrooms in the house, but it’s always been her favorite because of the view.

As Cassian keeps looking for whatever it is he’s looking for, upturning boxes and checking beneath furniture, Nesta drifts toward the bay window. She looks from the cherry blossom trees outside, to the full-sized bed, to Cassian, and a weight drops even heavier in her gut. She has to reach out and grip the edge of the dresser for support.

Finally, Cassian pops out of the closet victorious. In his hand are a pair of ragged shoes that Nesta hasn’t worn in a long, long time.

He comes over and drops them with a thud at her feet.

“Whose room is this?” she asks with a rough voice, still staring down at the shoes.

“Mine,” he answers simply.

“Oh.” She met him before. She met him before.

When Nesta dares to look up and meet Cassian’s eyes, what she finds there nearly robs her of breath: wonder, astonishment, and unwavering fealty. He breaks into sudden wholehearted laughter, which dazes her even more.

“What’s so funny?” she demands.

Cassian gets out between laughs, “What was it Rhysand said about Feyre? When they found out they were close to crossing paths when they were younger?”

Nesta’s earth-tilting shock slowly slips away, replaced by a stern look. “Don’t say it.”

He pretends to remember. “I think it was fate.” A wicked smirk pulls at his lips at Nesta’s resigned sigh. “But I have another word for it, too.”

“Don’t say that, either.” She pleadingly holds up her hands, only for Cassian to snatch one out of the air and intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Soulmate,” he says quietly, now less amused.

Nesta swallows thickly, not having any words for him. All she knows is that he is never going to let her live this down.

“Imagine if we’d gone to the same high school,” Cassian says to her later that afternoon as they lounge in his old room. “Fuck, I could’ve saved myself so much time with all those random girls.” They’ve been swapping childhood stories for the past hour, as if they might find more instances in their history of a red string tying them together.

Nesta doesn’t need coincidences or fateful run-ins to know that a string has always been wrapped around her ring finger, pulling her to Colorado and to that cabin. But for Cassian’s sake, she’ll gladly amuse him. “I would have been a freshman while you were a senior,” she says matter-of-factly. “It never could have happened.”

He hums in thought, head propped up in his hand, elbow propped up against the bay window seat. “Maybe if you were older. You would have been the smart, quiet girl, and I’d have been the player jock, and as soon as we locked eyes in math class, I’d be head over heels in love with you.”

Nesta cackles from where she sits in the window seat above him. “Now you’re just writing fanfiction.”

Cassian grins up at her but doesn’t send a rebuttal her way. The conversation falls into a lull, until Nesta has to reach out and ask, “What are you thinking?”

His smile turns a little sad. “That I wish we weren’t doing this right before I leave for another country.”

Right. That’s what’s been hanging over them the entire trip to Tennessee: that as soon as they get back to Colorado, Cassian is going to be on a plane to Milan.

Getting Keith O’Connell to quit—how exactly Cassian went about accomplishing it, he still won’t tell Nesta—left Rhysand at square one with his search for a team leader for his overseas venture.

When Cassian brought up the idea of taking the job to Nesta, he sounded like he hoped she would shoot him down, talk him out of it. He both wanted to go and was reluctant to leave, like his very soul was glued to his home and he didn’t want to unstick himself.

So Nesta, being his home, had to do the unsticking for him. She nearly accepted the year-long Milan position herself for Cassian’s sake, and it took weeks of coaxing and convincing to put him at ease about the whole thing.

“But we promised to go together for the first time,” he kept saying.

“We’ll still go together one day, and it’ll still be our first time there with each other,” she reassured him.

Eventually, he relented to her and Rhysand’s pressures with a single condition. “I’ll do six months. Not a year.”

Only Nesta knows deep down how much Cassian needs this opportunity. Though Cassian must know it a little bit too, because he wouldn’t have taken the job if he didn’t.

Nesta might have needed him in order to come out of her shell, but now he needs to get away from her in order to find his own shell. Something he can call his own, unburdened by his loyalties to the people he loves. So he can find who he wants to be for himself, without always being attached to her hip.

Rising to her feet, Nesta raises her arms in the air in a full body stretch. Her back and legs ache with being curled up in that window seat for so long without movement.

Dropping her arms, she holds out a hand to Cassian still sitting on the floor. “Come on,” she urges him. “Let’s go outside. I haven’t seen a Smoky sunset in years.”

“But it’s not evening yet,” he argues while taking her hand.

Outside, they explore the garden that leads into the woods while waiting for the sun to slink down the sky. Cherry blossoms ride the summer breeze wherever it takes them, resulting in Cassian sniffling and scratching at his neck as they walk hand in hand.

“Rhysand wanted to take these trees down and replace them with a flower garden for Elain,” he tells Nesta as they walk. His sinuses sound clogged, but he’s refused to go back inside until he’s explained every inch of the land to Nesta. “I convinced him not to because it would ruin the view from my bedroom window. Didn’t I make the right choice?” He throws a grin in her direction.

Nesta’s swallow is tight at that grin. “The view from your room was always my favorite part about the entire place. So yes, you did good.”

His eyes widen at that tidbit of information, and she can almost see him tucking it away as more Soulmate Evidence.

They stroll through the woods for a while, and Nesta points out the path she would take to get to Cherrywood—she still insists on calling it Cherrywood, even when Cassian argues that the house’s original name has been around since the sixties.

“Show me the rest of the way?” Cassian asks her, face lit up in boyish hope. “Show me where you ran away to that day I found you.”

Nesta almost expects the memory of the rundown apartment complex she grew up in to feel like being shoved into sludge: dirty, cold, and slimy. Instead, she finds she has no problem with looking back at her old home, no matter how many ugly memories she holds from there.

However, the dappled sunlight streaming in through the trees overhead has turned from yellow to dark gold, and she shakes her head in apology to Cassian. “Another day,” she promises him. “It’s almost sunset.”

They walk back to the house, rounding it until they reach the front. At the bottom of the hill that the house is perched on stands a pier that leads all the way out to the lake. Green mountains frame the lake from both sides, creating the perfect cradle for the sun to sink into.

They go all the way out to the edge of the pier, as if they’re trying to get as close to the sunset as physically possible. Dragonflies lazily swoop by as the lake is gradually painted in a hundred different colors.

Once there’s more darkness than light in the sky, Cassian nudges Nesta with one of the arms he has around her. “Look.” He points.

Along the shoreline of the lake, little dots of light have lit up to welcome the evening, their blinking glow so small that Nesta almost doesn’t catch it. Fireflies.

Nesta watches the insects flit in and out of the long grasses of the lake shore, getting tangled in the weeds and wildflowers. In that moment, she remembers something Cassian once confessed to her not long after his birthday.

I want to see more beautiful places with you.

Nesta ticks this beautiful place off the long list in her head—the first place out of many that she plans to see with Cassian.

More beautiful than the scene before her is the man in her arms. The man who was kind enough to understand a woman who barely understood herself, and to be her friend when she had none. The man who is extending his kindness right now by not having made any breaking-and-entering jokes about Nesta so far, though she’s sure he’ll pull them out eventually.

Discovering that she once found Cassian, just to let him slip by running away from him, only to find him again over a decade later—it comforts the tiny part of her that’s loath to say goodbye to him in two weeks.

Like Cassian is thinking the same thing, he murmurs into the dark, “I can’t wait to come back to you.”

Nesta huffs in amusement. “You haven’t even left yet.”

“I know.” After a moment, he adds in a low voice that not even the fireflies can hear, “Thank you for convincing me to go.”

She reaches up to squeeze his bicep. “Always.” And then she adds what she really wants him to hear: “Don’t come back until you find what you’re looking for.”

“I better find it quick then,” he jokes. Still, he nods in promise against the side of her head.

The only sound after that is the chirp of cicadas and the occasional lap of water meeting the pier beams. Nesta and Cassian stay outside in the June heat long after the sky turns ink blue.

***

a/n: next chapter is just some ic bullshit so take all ur bittersweet sentimentality here and go

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