#anyway normally i would try to reply to things in order

[saphronethaleph]

Snooze Cruise

Anakin’s head was whirling as he got into the speeder.

The Chancellor was a Sith. Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith.

The man had been a close friend for – well, since Anakin had left Tatooine, really.

And he was a Sith.

It was… too big. There was too much to grasp.

Anakin backed his speeder out of the parking spot, turned to fly to the Jedi Temple, and yawned.

This led to him nearly crashing into an air lorry, and he skidded abruptly to a halt in mid-air before shaking his head and groaning.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, out loud.

He needed to speak to someone about this.

He should probably speak to Padme about this.

Turning the speeder, Anakin took the air way to their apartment instead, doing his best to concentrate on flying instead of on the fact that Palpatine was a Sith.

The door opened, and Anakin raised his voice.

“Padme?” he called.

“Ah!” C-3P0 said, coming in from one of the rooms leading off the entrance hall. “Sir, I am afraid that Mistress Padme is not currently in. She is involved in a meeting.”

Anakin almost demanded to know if that meeting was with Obi-Wan, before shaking his head as he remembered that Obi-Wan was on Utapau.

“Should I… let her know you want to see her?” C-3P0 asked.

“No, Threepio,” Anakin waved the offer off. “I’ll just wait for her to get back. It’s… something I need to think about before we talk, anyway.”

“Oh, I see,” C-3P0 decided. “Or, rather, I don’t. But I’m quite used to such things. Do you want something to eat, Sir?”

Anakin waved that offer off as well. “No thanks. I’ll just sit down.”

He divested himself of his cloak, hanging it up on one of the hooks by the door, then went through to the main living area and sat down on the couch.

Within a few minutes, four days of no sleep had caught up with him, and he passed out.

Mace Windu glanced at the time – almost eight in the morning – and then flicked on his comlink.

The first comm code he called produced no reply, even after a wait of several minutes, and he frowned slightly before switching to a new combination.

That one, fortunately, produced a response almost immediately. Senator Padme Amidala answered the call.

“Master Jedi?” she asked. “This is Master Windu, yes?”

“That’s correct, Senator,” Mace confirmed. “I was wondering if you knew where Anakin was. I’ve called his comlink, and he hasn’t answered.”

“I don’t know where he is, no, I’ve been involved in a meeting all night,” Padme replied. “Master Jedi – did you know about the Abolition Act?”

Mace blinked.

“I’d heard of it, yes,” he said. “So far as we’re aware, it’s a legal mechanism to try and dissolve the Jedi… we’d believed it was a scheme by Darth Sidious, an attack against the Jedi.”

He glanced in the direction of the Council chamber. “That’s one reason why Obi-Wan launched his attack on General Grievous on Utapau. We hoped to draw Sidious out.”

“I don’t know if that’s what’s going on, but the Chancellor just announced that the Abolition Act was coming up for a vote,” Padme said. “I didn’t have a clue why, but if Sidious is involved… do you think he managed to get to the Chancellor?”

“It’s possible,” Mace admitted. “When is the vote?”

“It’s outside normal order, so… now,” Padme answered.

Mace turned, striding to the doors of the council chamber, and Kit, Agen, Sasee and Coleman looked up from their seats as he entered.

“Something’s happening,” he said. “Senator, can you keep us updated?”

“I’ll do my best, Master Jedi,” Padme promised.

“How important?” Kit asked.

“As important as it can get,” Mace replied. “The whole Order needs to hear this… I can feel it.”

The vote counts began coming in, and Palpatine tried to suppress a nervous twitch.

He was having to improvise. Improvising in the end game was a difficult thing to do, especially when he had no idea why his gambit had failed.

What should have happened was that he would have his new apprentice, or he would have an open break with the Jedi Order… which would earn him his new apprentice anyway.

But as of now, he had neither. And without his new apprentice, he didn’t have nearly as good an excuse for an open break with the Jedi Order… he could not very well have Anakin give his account of how the Council had been planning to bypass and replace the Chancellor.

If he was going to get his empire out of this, he needed that break. Order 66 could not take place without some kind of reason behind it, something he could point to, and yet it had to take place as soon as possible… the war was entering its final phase, and within days the Jedi would be returning home. Away from their loyal soldiers… away from their hidden assassins.

So be it.

If there was anything that would force a break with the Jedi, it was this. And, as the votes rolled in, Palpatine saw that he had managed it… at a great cost, but he had managed it.

At least four factions in the Senate had been persuaded that they had to vote in favour of the Abolition Act despite Palpatine’s professed wishes to keep the Jedi around. Two of those factions had been persuaded by Palpatine himself arguing that their votes were necessary for political reasons, and that the Act would never pass anyway.

“The motion is carried,” Mos Amedda declared.

“I bow to the wishes of the Senate,” Palpatine announced. “And now that it is law, I am bound to carry it out. The Jedi Order will be dissolved, effective…”

Immediately? No. He needed enough time for them to act rashly, not enough time for them to think.

“...as of ten in the morning, today, Coruscant time,” he decided.

The Senator for Naboo signalled to speak the instant it became possible, and her pod floated out into the central arena.

“I have a reply from Master Windu of the Jedi Council,” she said, without preamble, and Mace Windu’s holographic head appeared in projection from her systems.

“Sure,” Master Windu said. “The war’s basically over anyway.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...what?” he asked.

“The war’s basically over anyway,” Mace repeated. “An hour to pack might be a bit tight, but I think we can fit everything into some of the freighters.”

“Are you saying you’re going to just leave?” Palpatine asked, not quite sure what he was hearing.

“Yes,” Mace confirmed. “We have all been working very hard for years, often without much of a rest, and we would very much like a break. If you don’t want to keep us around, we’ll do it elsewhere.”

The image wavered, and a second hologram appeared next to it.

“We’re with you, Master Windu,” Clone Marshal Commander Bly stated. “Voting’s going on now, but I’m sure of it. All of us are – we quit. We’re your army, not the Republic’s, and that’s how it should be… you won’t waste our lives.”

“You were listening in?” Mace asked, sounding amused.

“If it affects all the Jedi, it affects all of us,” Bly declared. “And speaking for myself, Master Windu… we would very much like a break as well.”

Palpatine was staring at the holograms.

“...you are all listening in?” he said, then decided he was never going to get an opportunity better than this one. “Initiate Order Sixty-Six!”

Commander Bly just looked confused.

“Chancellor?” he said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d like to know that myself,” Senator Amidala admitted.

It took all of Palpatine’s immense self-control to avoid reacting to that bit of news.

Hiding Order Sixty-Six in the biochips of the clones forming the Grand Army of the Republic was the greatest bit of deception and complex planning the Sith had managed in-

Palpatine’s train of thought screeched to a halt, backed up, and examined the proper nouns involved.

...the clones weren’t part of the Grand Army of the Republic any more, or of any direct successor organization involved. They’d quit.

Someone, presumably someone Kaminoan, had simplified the programming by using a function definition that didn’t apply in this situation, and he was now buggered sideways with a lightsaber.

Anakin yawned, stretching, and his hands touched metal.

“Mwuh?” he asked, blinking a few times, then rolled over on their couch and fell onto a metal floor.

That got him the rest of the way awake, and he looked around with surprise.

He was on… a starship, with a blanket half-tangled in his legs. There were crates packed and stacked haphazardly around the bed he was on, and the quiet murmur in the Force of sentients elsewhere.

“Ah!” Threepio said, appearing at the door. “Master Anakin, sir. It is good to see you are awake. Shall I inform the rest of the Council?”

“What’s going on?” Anakin asked, touching the hilt of his lightsaber. “Where am I?”

“I’m not an expert at hyperspace navigation, sir,” Threepio replied. “That is more Artoo’s department. But I believe we are about halfway between Coruscant and the Yavin system. A lot has happened since you fell asleep.”

“Including me being moved into a spaceship?” Anakin asked.

“You were very deeply asleep, sir,” Threepio confirmed.

“…you quit?” Anakin asked, ten minutes later, looking between the holographic forms of the other Councillors – and the half-dozen Clone Commanders who were also on the call. “All of you?”

“The Senate voted to disband the Jedi Order,” Mace told him. “The Order’s not part of the Republic, but it could have caused us a lot of problems. So… we left.”

“Our ally, the Force is,” Yoda said, nodding sagely. “Helped with packing, it did.”

“The only thing we’re not sure about yet is why the Chancellor said what he said, during the meeting,” Rex told him. “We’ve been trying to work it out since we hit hyperspace. Politics in the Republic are very confused right now.”

“I could… probably help with that,” Anakin said. “Though I guess first I should say… is Padme okay? We’re – we’re married.”

That resulted in a ripple of laughter through the call.

“We know, sir,” Rex said.

“All of us,” Mace agreed. ���You moved in with her.”

“It was actually causing a problem,” Ki-Adi-Mundi informed him. “Students were asking if marriage was really not allowed or just that we were supposed to pretend it wasn’t.”

“Clearly the second option,” Sasee opined. “Clearly.”

“...do you also know that the Chancellor is a Sith?” Anakin said. “He told me.”

“Okay, that is new,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Perhaps we should tell your wife. She might find it useful to know.”

[gayerthanevertbh]

widow behind closed doors pt. 1 | n.r

summary: You moved into a Craig's list apartment and met a woman through an online chat. Despite issues with your parents, you felt seen by the woman, the fleeting excitement rushing through your heart as she continues to develop a relationship with you online. However, the owner of the building, Steve Rogers, warns you to avoid the upper floor. You followed his orders, but wonder who lives behind closed doors and most of all, who is the woman behind the phone?

warnings: online dating, slight dark!natasha romanoff, age difference (natasha is 40 while reader is 20,) g!p natasha, manipulative behavior, and smut - 18+ minors dni

notes: not sure if i want to make this a story but this is just in case if i do. this is just the start of the series, this will also be posted on ao3 so let's see how it goes! let me know if you want me to continue it. don't worry, training season chapter two will be posted soon :)

Last month, as you turned nineteen, your mother kicked you out. Naturally, you lived at a friend's house for a short while until you had enough money to rent a new apartment close to your university. The fact is, out of all the websites, Craig's List was the one you used when looking for this apartment complex.

Fairly speaking, the apartment building looked normal—at least from your own vantage point—and had the required utility. Mail from the outside, a laundry facility, and a smoking section. Though you occasionally light one, you do not smoke. Conversely, your friend Julie smoked as if her lungs were not burning. She never listened to your advice about not smoking three times a day.

With a big huff from your lungs, you toppled the last box outside of your chamber. Steve and Wanda were two people who assisted you in getting settled. Grading them for helping you arrange things in your new room, you turned around with a friendly smile.

“Thank you again, Mr. Rogers,” you said as you shook his hand. “This room is pretty big.”

“No one really rents here,” the man replied with a small smile on his face. “It’s the least I can do. You know, especially that you’re a student.”

You chuckled, turning your head away. “Please, I don’t even want to hear about that.”

“How old are you?” Wanda asked with a curious look on her face. 

“I just turned 20 last month,” you said with a pained groan. It is not so ridiculous given your connection with your mother; you did not forget the time she kicked you out of the house. “How about you?”

She smiles. “We’re the same age! If you have time, maybe you could stop by my room. It’s just on the left corner of the building.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You both fell into silence until Steve held his hands together, staring at Wanda and then back at you. “Well, you should settle in. If you need anything, I’m just downstairs. You know the number of my apartment, you can just knock at anytime.”

“Steve, should we tell her about N—”

“We also want to inform you not to go to the upper floor,” Steve interrupts Wanda and says Your eyebrows wrinkled as you looked at the girl and saw her covering her face on her shoulder. “We have a friend who can be very... mean. She doesn’t like anyone going to her floor and she’s technically also the owner of this building.”

“Really? Oh,” you huffed, wondering who they were talking about. “Don’t worry, I will not go up there.”

Steve put his hand on your biceps and patted. “Thanks, kiddo. Anyway, just knock on our doors if you need any help.” 

You closed the door and sighed longingly as soon as they left your room. Today was going to be a long day of you sorting every box you had in this room; you would most likely desire take-out after all this chaos. You considered the woman living on the top floor as you were making your bed. What did she look like? When they claimed the woman was peculiar, what did they mean? So many thoughts crossed your head, trying to figure out who the woman was they were talking about. You shrugged, minded your own business, and soon nodded off. 

———

Late at night, you placed an order for a pizza, tried to watch a movie on your laptop, and visited a website none of your friends knew you were first visiting. Almost as if it were Omegle, the service allowed users to communicate with total strangers—and you could add them as friends via chat. Alone, you were eating a slice of pizza and texting a few people from the website. Carl, a male, asked whether he might have coffee with you tomorrow afternoon, but you gently turned him down since you just moved in. When, really, you have no interest in men. You consider them not as a lover but rather as a need.

Though it sounds horrible, that is reality. Men are often cruel, while women can communicate with you through their elegant, luxurious words. You enjoyed the sensation when a woman complements you for not just your appearance but also for the way you talk from your mind. It was not surprising that they adored you for your beauty; sometimes it can feel fantastic, but you wanted to be really understood—not only by appearance. And so, after some time, you were ready to shut your laptop until you noticed an email sign on top left.  

Someone has left you a message. 

You boldly opened the message and found a woman called Natalia messaged. As you went over her message, you grinned.

Natalia: Hey there! Are you new here?

You: no not really lol xD i’ve been using this website since a year ago.

Natalia: Strange :P I never saw you on my suggestions. Do you have an age limit to 40 plus?

You: yeah! i wanted to try something new

Natalia: Hm. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen you here. Your name is Y/n? Or is that just a nickname? Haha.

You: nope, that’s definitely my name! And is your name not a nickname?

Natalia: Definitely not a nickname :)) 

As you spoke with this woman you could feel your heart beating and your body heating up like it was an oven. Since many people do this, you are simply hoping the conversation stays normal. Otherwise, things could go strange. They only pursue nudes, and you're honestly bored of that. You bit on your lower lip as you considered your response, but she slammed it right into you.

Natalia: How old are you? Are you really 20? ;((

You: yeah... heh. and are you really 40?

Natalia: Yup. It's weird, isn’t it?

You: are u looking for a sugar baby lol

You let out a quiet laugh as you waited for her response. 

Natalia: HAH! No, I’m not. I just really want to talk to someone. Is that bad these days? 

You: not really. i’m just a little traumatized by this website. everyone keeps asking me to send nudes. 

Natalia: I understand; sometimes young women ask me to send some too. So I understand how you feel :)

By the way, are you currently studying?

You: yessss! i study at NYU. :DD 

Natalia: Really?! That’s great! You know, when I was in my 20s, I tried to study there, but I lost all interest. It’s good that you still want to study :)))

Where do you live?

Given that you only connected with this woman online, it's best that you remain mum about your exact location; unfortunately, there are many predators in the world today. Even though it pains you deeply to lie to this woman, you couldn't help but chew on your lower lip as you considered telling a lie. Before you could mention that you lived at this new apartment, a thud on the floor interrupted you. With a quick turn of your head, you strode over to the door and opened it.

From over her shoulder, a woman shot you a lifeless stare, and you felt inadequate. You stepped outside and asked, “A-Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Grumbling under her breath, the woman made her way to the staircase. She picked up the paper bag and proclaimed, “Who are you supposed to be?”

You gulped down your saliva and muttered, “I’m new here.”

Turning her head away from you, the mysterious woman—who seemed like the most stunning woman you'd ever seen—muttered something in Russian that you couldn't quite decipher. Her boots thudded loudly as she walked upstairs, shaking her head dismissively. The door slams shut, and your body twitches in response. 

The woman was, in fact, very intimidating.

And strange. 

And mean. 

As you shut the door, you sigh and try to comprehend that the woman might have been going through a difficult time. Steve was spot-on from the start: the second floor is not a good place to be. Reason being, you might get booted out if you indulged your curiosity. You sat back down on the bed and swiftly typed back to Natalia, who was waiting for your response; the once-bustling city of New York was now peaceful. You shut the curtains. Somehow, you wish she had been waiting for you.

You: sorry... some mean neighbor was at my door. Lollll

Natalia: It’s okay :)) It’s late there, darling. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? 

She referred to you as "darling" and tossed your head back onto the pillow. You struggle to suppress your scream. As you let out a heavy sigh while you mentally resorted to thoughts of Natalia, completely disregarding the brief encounter you had with the unfamiliar woman just moments before. Having an attraction to older women was undeniable; it was just your personality. With a hint of excitement building inside of you, you snatched your laptop from the foot of the bed and began typing away, taking matters into your own hands.

God, you were such a fool.

You: yeah but i have to finish my pizza before i go to bed!

how about you?

Natalia: Can’t. I have work ;(( 

Talk to me tomorrow, okay? I like this conversation that we are having. ;)) 

Even though you were unhappy that she had to leave, you couldn't help but notice that it was getting close to two in the morning. You wanted to stay up all night, so you sigh and type on your keyboard. 

You: okay! :D gnnn x

Natalia: Goodnight, darling. 

Your mind was at peace with Natalia while you slept, which hasn't happened in a long time. What does she look like when you meet her face to face? Was she attractive? Even though you hadn't laid eyes on her face, you were certain that she was. Despite this, you were hoping to ask about sneak peeks so that you could avoid sleepless nights in the future. However, you recalled that you had met an unknown woman on the internet—a self-assured person. You definitely wouldn't cross paths with her in person.

Right?

yes ik a repost eugh

[astrophileous]

A little fluffy piece of reader who normally takes her coffee black vs Spencer having a ton of sugar in his? The two of them getting their drinks mixed up and almost spitting it out at the pure amount/lack of sugar? 🤭

OMG I was actually planning to include a similar scene in one of my upcoming oneshots, but you know whattt!!! I'll write them again here anyway bcs it's such a cute concept 🥰

Warning(s): gn!reader but reader wears lipgloss, profanities, fixation over lips, bashful spencer bcs he's my babygirl <3

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What the fuck?"

Spencer strode over just in time to see you spitting something out into the kitchenette sink. There was no concealing the disgust on your face as you eyed the cup in your grasp suspiciously.

"Hey." Spencer's voice tore through the air in a shaky ball of nerves. It sounded meek amidst the buzzing busyness of the BAU bullpen, yet still, you snapped your head up as soon as the single syllable left his mouth.

Your eyes instantly melted when they flickered towards his face.

"I think our drinks got switched," Spencer added, a little louder this time.

Your gaze played a tennis match between the identical cups in both your hand and Spencer's. The grimace you rewarded him in the next second was possibly the cutest thing Spencer had seen in the past few months.

"This is yours? That explains so much. Ever heard of diabetes, Dr. Reid?" you joked as the two of you returned each cup to its rightful owner. "What the hell is in that, anyway?"

"Um, coffee?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "I may know practically nothing compared to you, Doctor, but I know for a fact that was not coffee. Tell me, how many sugar canes had to be chopped down to satisfy your abominable preference of sweetness?"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Do you even know what real coffee tastes like?"

Before he could produce a reply, you suddenly thrust the cup of coffee in your hand right in front of Spencer's nose. The man staggered rearwards until his back met the wall with a thud.

"What are you doing?"

"Try it," you said sheepishly.

"What?"

"Try the goddamn coffee, Reid."

Spencer didn't actually need to try the goddamn coffee. After all, he knew your order like the back of his hand: iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, maybe one pump of syrup if you were feeling adventurous. He could already imagine how revolting the drink would taste.

But as you continued to peer at him behind your lashes, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips glossy from your favorite cherry lipgloss—the limited edition one that you had proudly boasted about in front of the entire team—Spencer could feel his IQ depleting in a rapid descension. He accepted the cup without a word and took a courageous sip.

"Well?" you questioned expectantly.

"Please don't force me to do anything like that, ever again."

Laughter exploded deep from within your chest when Spencer shoved the coffee back into your awaiting hand. He didn't have a lot of time to mull over the nauseating bitterness, however. Not when you proceeded to wrap your own lips around the lid—the same one he was just drinking from—and downed a generous sip.

Spencer averted his gaze away.

"Hey." JJ peeked into the pantry area, unaware of the rush of blood and inner turmoil that Spender was battling. The blonde waved the file in her hand before gesturing at the conference room. "We've got a case. Hotch wants everyone in five."

You skittered away after JJ's announcement, leaving Spencer dumbfounded and pathetically bothered by the image of your enticing lips. He followed after your footsteps, leading himself towards the conference room where the rest of his team was gathering. He drank a large sip from his own coffee to calm his racing heart, unaware of the reddish stain in the shape of your lips marking the area around the lid of his cup.

For the rest of that day, Spencer could taste traces of cherry on the tip of his tongue.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst

Length: 5900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.

"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."

"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 

"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."

You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 

"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 

When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."

"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.

The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."

You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"

He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."

"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"

Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 

As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 

You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.

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

By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 

But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.

So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"

"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.

"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 

"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.

"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"

You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."

After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 

The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 

Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 

Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."

"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"

"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.

Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 

"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 

"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."

You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."

He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."

Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 

"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."

"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.

You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 

Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 

"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.

After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."

Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 

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

Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 

He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 

You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.

Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 

"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 

After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.

Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."

He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 

Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.

"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 

"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"

He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."

You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."

He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."

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

When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.

"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 

The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 

You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 

It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 

While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 

Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.

When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.

You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.

Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.

"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.

Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.

"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 

"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 

You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't like her touching you."

His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."

You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."

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

Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 

When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 

He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 

"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 

"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 

He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.

"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."

He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"

You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."

And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.

On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 

He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 

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

You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 

No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 

As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 

"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."

Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."

Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."

"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."

"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."

Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."

You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 

It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 

"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"

"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.

"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"

"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."

Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 

You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."

You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."

He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"

You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"

He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 

"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 

"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 

"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 

"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."

He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"

You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 

When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 

You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 

"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.

When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.

You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 

Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 

Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 

You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 

"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.

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

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

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[bigfatbimbo]

I love you like an Alcoholic

2.1k words,, Bill x Reader

a/n — You did it, you saved the town.

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, sub!Bill, toxic relationships, book of bill time era, orgasm denial, ambiguous superpowers, NOT PROOFREAD**

summary — Bill goes to his incredibly powerful (moreso than him) business partner, you, to try to get him out of theraprism. Things take a turn.

“I had to pull a lot of strings for this Bill,” you cross your legs and lean back in your thrown. 

Bill straightens his bow-tie, “Well toots, what if I told you I can make it worth your while?”

You breathe and then get up from your chair, “I’d tell you to stop floating in my lair. It’s distracting.”

Snapping your fingers, a bar appears in your otherwise empty room. While pouring yourself a drink, you can feel Bills eye-roll from across the room.

With a tip of his hat, his more human form appears, and sits down at the bar stool next to you. “Better?”

“Could do with more abs.”

He laughs but doesn’t change his appearance, “So, y/n. We go way back, right? I’m not gonna sugar code it, you’ve always been one of my favorites to do business with, doll. Wanna know why?”

“The fact i’m always so interested in what you have to say?”

His eye practically twitched at your indifference. Your attention was never payed in full. “Ha! Don’t flatter your self, pal. No, i’ll tell you why: did you know out of everyone in the galaxy, you’re the only equal I do business with?”

Your eyebrow arches, “equal?”

“Humor me,” he doesn’t give you the chance to reply before continuing. “Now, given my current position in ‘necessary therapy’—“ he makes a point of doing obnoxious air quotes, “—I don’t have much to occupy my days. And we both know i’d be of better use to you out here, right?”

You took another sip of your wine before getting up from the bar and walking over to your throne. The bar disappears behind you, leaving cipher ass-flat on the ground.

“Oh come on—“ His open eye turns red momentarily, before he dusts himself off, “Look, it’s hard being a god, y/n, I know that much. With that responsibility, I think a business partner would do you good. And all you’d have to do is bail me out, that’s practically no downside for you at all, buddy.”

Your patience had been wearing thin, and without further consideration you let out a larger grown from your chair, “Cipher, you’re a liability. I don’t want you. I’m honestly struggling to find enjoyment in sharing a drink with you, despite our history.”

A flick of your hand lifts him off his feet and brings him over to you, “Thought you had a no floating policy, eh?” There’s no fear in his voice, but there is in his eye. He’s losing.

“I’m gonna make this clear to you. You’re gonna take your disgusting human form, and you’re gonna march your happy ass back to theraprism, and you’re gonna stay there. Want my advice? Stop being so damn pathetic.”

A portal opens to take him back and he struggles in your invisible grasp, “No, wait! Please, I’ll do anything, just wait!” 

A human form was already a disadvantage, one he’d accepted in order to strike a deal, but a disadvantage still. And he hadn’t had any contact in a long time, aside from various psychiatrists telling him what’s ’wrong with him.’ 

So, you being someone he has history with could have contributed to his annoyingly human problem. Maybe it was the excitement, your attention or the lack there of, but something terrible happened at that moment. 

“Jesus, Bill. You really have hit rock bottom,” You murmur to yourself as you pull his floating body closer to you, your fingers dance around the bulge without touching it.

“Hey, hey, watch it— Your the one that made me have this stupid fleshbag, anyways— cut that out!” He struggled in the air, finding that he just couldn’t turn back into his normal form. You’re doing, he’d assume. 

To his dismay, you giggle and lean back, “Well now i’m enjoying myself. Now this I could help with, Cipher,”

“Ah, ah pass! Just get me down from here and—“ Back to prison? He’d have to swallow his pride on this one. And besides, it’s not like he wouldn’t like it… “Whatever you want, doll. I’m here all night.”

You examine him further, “Is that so?” 

Before he can answer, you drop him to his knees in front of you. “Ow! Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart. I’m not in mint condition these days— ah!”

Your foot presses down lightly on the bulge in his pants, and your fingers grab onto his chin, “Been a minute since we’ve done this. Huh, Cipher?”

He nods, going to say something, before you interject, “So i’d be good if I was you, baby.”

You press down on his hard-on with more pressure, watching Ciphers face flicker, biting his lip, before letting on a whimper. 

Despite not being his first encounter, so to speak, with you of this nature, it never failed to eat as his pride. And furthermore, despite this, it felt good. If Bill was anything, he was selfish. He could admit he was letting it happen for himself, instead of in spite of himself. So it can’t be that humiliating?

But in this position, there’s always shame.

“Y/n — give me a break—“ He breathed, eye twitching. 

You rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers, with that, his pants were gone and his dick was exposed. That’s another thing he could do without: your unpredictability 

“Next time, say please. Asshole.” You say, lifting him up with your powers once more.

“Wow, buddy. I’m not the one being the jerk here—“ It came out quick, as Bill words often did. But these ones he regretted immediately.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Tough crowd?” He felt a sensation tugging at the base of his dick, indicating the start of mind games that wouldn’t end anytime soon.

He backtracked. Play it off. “Yeesh, you’re a tough crowd! Did I say jerk? You heard me wrong, I meant lovely— Ah, wait! Wait!”

A wave of pleasure flooded his senses abruptly, followed by a short pinch of pain, similar to what a mortal feels when they prick their finger on a piece of metal. Does that happen a lot? They’re all so clutsy, can’t be that out of the ordinary—

“Smooth talk your way out and maybe I’ll lighten the blow, yeah?” You smile cruelly, hand dangling out, flexing as if teasing what you could do to him.

“I— I know we’ve had our disagreements but I— augh!” A spike of pain, his eye rolled back a bit, “You— I’ve always admired your work— Yes! Respected you even, you’re an idol, sweetheart, ah, yes!”

With each compliment a burst of pleasure would go through him, landing at his unnatural dick, now leaking with precum. He was nearly babbling, but he was as aware of that as he was aware of the fact it was dearly encouraged.

“Very good, Billy. You’re too sweet, really.” Your voice was smooth and you bit your lip, watching him writhe with pleasure mid-air.

“A-anything for you, toots! Ah, more, more!”

He didn’t notice he said anything wrong this time until it was too late, but your face had noticeably darkened at the statement. 

“That’s awful demanding for someone in your position, dontcha’ think?” You weren’t actually mad, of course you weren’t. But you loved to you with him, and you took every opportunity. One of the reasons Bill tried to avoid you when he could; you were far too similar people, dealing in cruelty for the sake of entertainment.

“Wha- No wait!” The attention to his dick ceased to exist, and he was left with only aching for attention again, despite the fact you never gave anything physical in the first place. 

All mind games. “That’s- That’s not fair!”

“I’d watch who you were talking too, baby,” You flick your hand, spreading out his body parts mid air, hard leaking cock protruding out, crying for any kind of sensation. 

“You know what I can do. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” You sigh expectantly.

Bill tried to speak to defend himself, to talk his way out, but he found his ability to gone.

“I can make you do what I want, Cipher. Can make you feel whatever I want. Extraordinary pain—“ He cries out for a split second, eye flashing with fear, “—Or overwhelming pleasure.”

This time his eye rolled back, and he moans in wonderful agony, unable to move expect for wriggling his body parts weakly. His dick twitched.

“You like that feeling?”

He nods weakly, eyes fogging up, letting a small whimper escape.

“Don’t want me to hurt you?” Another nod, “Want me to make you feel good? Think you deserve it?”

“Ah— y/n, I need…” He swallows, revising his words in his mind, “Please, I need this.”

It’s true, Bill had never reached such a low in his entire existence. And he wasn’t sure if this interaction was pushing him further down or making him feel better. Now, however, he was struggling to think.

“Aw, baby. You have taken your punishment well? Been having a rough time too..” Your tone switched to something softer, almost to a condescending note.

His pathetic appearance did him justice, he pretended this was on purpose. 

Either way, a whine slipped from his throat and he shut his eyes, playing into it. You cooed in response, bringing him closer to you in order to run your hand along the side of his cheek. 

A spurt of pleasure shoots through his dick once more, and now he can’t help but yearn for something more. “Touch me— I need it— Please.” He threw in, trying to help his chances, despite the struggle at forming a coherent thought other than need.

“Hm,” You consider. Finally you reach out, running a finger along the base of his cock, to the tip. “You really want me to?”

He nodded desperately, mouth falling open to let out a small whine. Swear bedded his hot, red face, and dripped down, make his multiple chins glisten. Ugh, you preferred him further away. His already greasy looking hair was now slick against his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over. 

You slowly shift all of your fingers onto his shaft and then saintly drag them up and down for the first few strokes. A gutteral whimper falls from Ciphers mouth, “Oh, yes!”

“What do we say, baby?” You ask, grip tightening suddenly as if to bring him back to reality, but not too tight. 

“Ah— Thank you!” He’d almost forgotten to detest you for making him say that. And he’d almost forgotten to remind himself to be mad after he was done feeling good.

He used to daydream about taking you down after these sessions. Rising to power and having you at his feet. But now he only wants to keep your attention on him. Now it’s all he can think about. 

You continue to stroke his leaking cock, leaning in to kiss his cheek fat, “Good boy.”

He moaned, “Don’t do that-“

“I’m not patronizing you. I mean it, you’re acting better than usual and i’m glad. Maybe you’re more desperate, or touch-starved, but you’re doing good. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Ah—“ He would have came right there if he could. And in the most literal sense, he couldn’t. You weren’t letting him. “Please, let me come. I can’t do this, have mercy, I’ll do anything—“

“I don’t know, I’m having a good time. Why should I?” Another desperate need to release wipes over him, an uncontrollable need that was actively being controlled. 

Despite himself, he teared up. His fingers rose to touch his face, which he realized, was now damp with falling tears, “No, no, no! I can’t- I’ve never- Human bodies— I need to. Please!”

You look at him and smile. 

“I’ve been good,” He reminded you.

With that, you have in. Your other hand moved away to snap your fingers, a gesture that wasn’t need to carry out the action, but to show that he’d earned his reward. 

“Yes! Thank you! Oh gods— Oh-“ He leaned back, finally having the orgasm that was being withheld from him. And god, it felt good.

You felt good, and he hated that. 

[miumura]

NOT THE TYPE ⌇K. SUNOO

( 🌐 ) SYNOPSIS > Sunoo was never the type to feel awkward around you, so you couldn’t quite understand why he was acting this way. If only you knew how he was just as bewildered as you were. He’s not the type to ever develop romantic feelings for his friends, but now he finds himself questioning how he felt about you. 

PAIRING best-friend!sunoo x fem!reader GENRE fluff, oblivious to love (?), friends to lovers WARNINGS none, just flustered sunoo <3 FEATURING jake from enhypen WORD COUNT 1.3K+ ( 1360 words )

SOPH'S NOTE > thought of this while listening to our by boynextdoor ^^ i needed to write more for sunoo and i think this idea suited him well <3 i think this is one of my faves lwk!!

“Are you okay, Sunoo?” you asked with concern, slowing your pace to get a better look at his face. Sunoo was rarely this quiet, especially during your walks back home. Normally, he'd have plenty to say—whether it was about the stray cat that always avoided his attempts to pet it or the latest dessert that was released from his favorite place. His unusual silence and lack of his usual cheerful chatter was a sign that something was off.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied softly, glancing at you. He chuckled lightly at your confused expression, pressing his thumb gently against your glabella to smooth out your furrowed brows. “Stop making that face, you’ll get wrinkles.”

You relaxed your expression but remained skeptical as he smiled, attempting to convince you that he was merely zoning out. Despite his efforts, the slight pout on his lips betrayed him—it was a telltale sign that something was weighing on his mind. While it wasn't uncommon for him to make that face, he had been doing it much more frequently, especially when he was with you. You knew Sunoo was lying.

Sunoo was never one to lie, especially not to you.

He knew you had been more worried about him lately, always quick to catch his mood shifts. Sunoo never realized how transparent his feelings were through his facial expressions, but you always seemed to know. It was as if he were an open book, filled with endless plot twists that you still tried to keep up with, continuing to read despite the confusion. He hated leaving you in the dark about his feelings, especially since you constantly reminded him that you were there for him.

But this was different.

Would you still be there for him if he told you that he likes you?

He had never been conflicted about his feelings, and he probably wouldn’t have been if Jake hadn’t planted that stupid idea in his head. Ever since Jake asked whether he saw you in a different light—more than a friend—Sunoo couldn’t stop thinking about it. Despite constantly telling himself and others that he simply saw you as a close friend, he couldn’t help but doubt himself. He always brushed it off, but today, that question lingered endlessly in his mind.

What does he really think about you?

He wanted to finally answer the question that kept haunting him. So, he analyzed his feelings around you, trying to see if they were different from usual. When he arrived at your house to walk with you, he felt the familiar comfort of your presence. It wasn’t an unusual feeling, as Sunoo had always felt at ease with you. Although he tried to be cautious, he soon found himself naturally moving closer to you as you walked, thinking nothing of it.

Talking with you was always enjoyable, discussing things you both liked. He often caught himself pausing more than usual, trying to discern if his happiness meant something more. He was pretty sure you noticed too, given the curious looks you’d been giving him since he picked you up. Sunoo also thought he was acting strangely, so he decided to push the thoughts away.

Jake’s question was stupid anyway.

Naturally, he returned to his usual self as you both continued to chat while waiting for your orders. He found himself attentively listening to you, his eyes tracing your facial expressions. He watched the way your eyes creased when you smiled and how the corners of your lips tugged upward, making him smile too.

You were pretty.

Did he view you in a different light, more than a friend? That question popped up again when he found himself gazing into your eyes, leaving him momentarily shocked. He quickly looked away, feeling his face heat up as he tried to focus elsewhere. Sunoo tried to convince himself that he was just “caught up in the moment,” but his rapidly beating heart was betraying his words. He had never been so immersed in someone before, and now he realized the kind of look he’d always been giving you.

The way he never missed an opportunity to hang out with you, the way his smiles and laughs seemed more genuine and frequent around you, and the way he admired you without even realizing it—how could he have been so blind?

Coming to this realization and finally answering the question he’d been avoiding might have done more harm than good. Sunoo found himself increasingly wary of his actions, trying hard to hide his feelings around you.

But he was failing miserably.

He couldn’t even maintain eye contact with you for more than ten seconds without feeling nervous and worrying about a blush creeping onto his face. Instead, he was talking to you while only looking at his food, which he found to be quite rude himself. He wished he could have remained oblivious, but now he had to learn how to keep his composure.

Yet, he wasn’t sure if he could manage that, especially when his breath hitched every time your arm brushed against his. Simple tasks like walking you home became challenging as his thoughts clouded his mind. He always did it, but now his feelings made it difficult for him to think straight.

“Sunoo, we are here,” you finally broke the silence. As Sunoo’s thoughts swirled, he suddenly realized he was standing in front of your house. The familiar setting broke through his haze of confusion, and he blinked, momentarily disoriented. He had been so lost in his feelings and his struggle to keep himself composed that he hadn’t noticed the quiet walk from the cafe to your doorstep.

“Oh, yeah,” He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. He shifted nervously, his mind racing with what he wanted to say but couldn’t quite muster. “I’m sorry if I was too out of it today.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him with a soft smile, one that felt different from the various looks you’d given him throughout the day. “Everyone has their days.”

Even though you had noticed he was off, you never wanted to bombard him with your worries. You respected his personal space, never wanting to intrude, especially if it seemed like he wasn’t ready to share. Sunoo would have been upset if a friend acted that way towards him, but you never seemed to get frustrated with him. His heart continued to race, and he found himself softening at your words, touched by your understanding and patience.

“Just know I’m always here if you want to talk about it, okay?” you said, looking into his eyes with a serious yet comforting expression.

Sunoo nodded quickly, his gaze darting away from yours again. He could hear you chuckle softly as your footsteps moved closer to your door. As you reached for the handle, Sunoo’s eyes lingered on you, feeling a mix of frustration and relief.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, giving a quick, awkward wave. You turned to face him with a small, understanding smile and waved back. Once you closed the door, Sunoo felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was quickly overshadowed by his anxiety.

He turned away from your house, his steps hurried as he made his way back down the path. Now that he was alone, he finally had the space to confront the thoughts he had been desperately trying to avoid. As he replayed the evening in his mind, he was coming to terms with his feelings.

He had always liked you, and it was a different kind of “like” compared to others. He had never recognized it because he was always with you, making it easy to overlook.

It’s because he always had you.

That realization hit him hard, and he felt a surge of regret for how he’d acted today. Once he arrived home, his hands flew to cover his face as he sank against a nearby wall, muffling a frustrated scream into his palms. His face burned with embarrassment, and he was overwhelmed by a mix of emotions.

Even now, he still couldn’t believe it.

He truly did fall for his best friend.

💬 : flustered!enha 😈

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[alrtyhoney]

The rundown: You looked like someone Miguel terribly misses– his daughter. (FIRST PART)

Content: Miguel x Daughter!Reader (wc: 1359)

“Have you thought about it already?” 

The girl remains focused on her drawings, doodling away. “About what?” She mumbles a reply, without turning her gaze, still engrossed in her drawings. She knew what he was going to say anyway.

Miguel reaches forward and tenderly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Your quinceanera, Gab.” He remarks warmly. 

She only laughs in return, shaking her head. It's silly, she thinks to herself. "I'm not even near being fifteen yet!" she protests in between fits of giggles. It occurred to Gabriella that his father had an ulterior motive from the sudden pique of interest in her hobbies and likes; he wasn’t particularly chatty, so the past few weeks had pushed her to finally ask him what he was trying to do. 

She didn’t understand at first. Miguel, very patiently, explained that a quinceanera was a special once-in-a-lifetime event for every girl. It was more than just a birthday celebration, it was an important milestone in her life. But she quickly discouraged the idea, not wanting to think about it so early. They had all of the time in the world, she thought, there was no reason to rush.

“I just want it to be special.” He says, “Your mother would’ve wanted that.” 

“No te preocupes, papá.” She reassures her with a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it special.” 

The clip ended, the screen slowly fading until only his reflection remained in the empty frame. All he could see now was a hollow shell of a man looking back at him; his expression blank and unflinching. Miguel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That scene had etched itself into his mind, burning– mockingly so. 

Nothing could ever fill the hole that his daughter had left in his heart - like when he first held her in his arms so many years ago; her presence still obvious on his chest where her memories had imprinted themselves, a permanent reminder of the loss of a child. He trudged through life with heavy feet and an even heavier heart. 

He wonders if things could’ve been different or if he would always be incapable of keeping people in his life, always slipping from his fingers and out of his grasp.

“You’re watching it again,” Lyla appears on his shoulder, sitting there with her legs crossed. 

“What about it?” 

"That's the fourth time today," She says, her voice laced with a trace of worry that she was quick to try and disguise as part of her normal banter. It had become increasingly clear to her that something was amiss and although she was programmed to know anything, Lyla did not know much about Miguel. 

“What do you want?” 

“An anomaly is spotted in earth-829, a renaissance-like hawk wreaking havoc in a modern museum– yikes.” Lyla briefs him, “Jessica is already on standby.” 

Miguel shakes his head, sighing. “Shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” He asks, his suit already appearing and opening a file regarding the mission. A hologram opens in front of him, filling in the details. Vulture. “Tell her to go home. I’ll handle this one.” 

“I think you shouldn’t,” Lyla squeaks with a nervous smile on her face. “Think you really shouldn’t.”

Miguel taunts with an arrogant tilt of his head, matter-of-factly declaring, "And who's the one taking orders here?" His mask then slides firmly into place, and a portal opens beneath his feet as he steps through. Lyla knows too well by now that there isn't any room for negotiation. 

As he stepped into the unfamiliar environment, a chorus of cries and screams greeted him from the running crowd. They pushed each other to safety, a few staying to watch spider-man in action. Miguel sighs, cracking his neck as he prepares himself to step in.

However, he slightly flinches as the said hero narrowly avoids him, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. She quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting the bits of rubble from her suit. “Hello? Mascot-man? I’m kinda in the middle of something here–” 

“I’ll take it from here, kid.” If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, his nonchalant tone would betray his expression. It was no surprise to him that someone as young as her had been bitten by a spider like so many others before her, but he knows damn well what awaits for her and that is what troubled him every time. 

“And who are you exactly?” She shouts, running towards the anomaly again. 

Miguel quickly binds the vulture's wings with his webs, allowing you to throw in a few punches before the bird regains its footing and takes off into flight. “I’m from another dimension.”

You audibly gasp, the eyes on your mask widening as you swing around, “I knew dimensions were real!” Completely unfocused, the anomaly narrows his eyes before charging towards you– before you could react to your senses tingling, you were sent tumbling to the ground, near the broken pile of rocks and other rubble. 

Miguel loudly groans, getting a hold of the enemy. “Kid, focus!” He barks out, and you immediately snap back to what you were doing, swinging enthusiastically towards him. 

“How did you do it? I mean– I tried to prove it all my life!” 

“Aren’t you 12?” He scoffs at your statement, clearly not a fan of exaggeration.

“14 – and that’s not the point, mascot-man!” 

The fight went on with you chatting and talking his ear off. Miguel had answered in dismissive grunts and his usual ‘it’s classified.’ remark, but he just couldn’t discourage your eagerness in any way. You had tired him out, more than the anomaly did.

Spider-society, magic watch, many more of you– you’ve basically summed up. 

“You should definitely let me join,” You offered cheerfully, cocking your head and wiggling your foot. The battle had finally come to a close, thanks in part to the arrival of a couple more spider-men who lent an extra hand. You had caught up to Miguel, basically begging him to let you in. “We made a great team back there old man!” 

“Old man?” 

“Okay, sensitive,” You muttered under your breath. “But seriously– I could learn more from you!” 

“Kid, listen–” 

You had cut him off again, seemingly not taking no as an answer as you tried to persuade him again. You continued to babble, not leaving any room for him to interrupt. Miguel rubbed a hand over his face, hidden beneath the fabric of his mask, as he groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time today. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you rambling on and on– patience nipping on itself from your lack of understanding with regards to the matter at hand. 

“First off, I did most of the work back there. If it weren’t for me calling for back-up, you could’ve been injured badly. This society isn’t some school club you can just sign yourself in,” He explained, already itching to return and leaving you in the dust. A liability is the last thing he needed. “You don’t have what it takes.”

You throw your head back, groaning. You take your mask off, revealing a busted lip and a frown. “Whatever, your club sounds stupid anyway.” You mumble under your breath, suddenly feeling worn out yourself. Of course what he said had stung– it had taken so much effort to learn how to control your powers over the past two months since you were bitten by that spider. It wasn’t like there was a manual or a book written for freaks that happened to have superhero powers under such circumstances. You had to learn on your own. 

Turning your back on him, you had fully expected him to disappear as well– but, to your surprise, he was totally motionless; a statue in solidarity unable to shift an inch. His stillness made the atmosphere unbearably tense and although you could not bring yourself to look back at him (well, you did call his club stupid.), you sensed his gaze upon you like a heavy weight pushing down on your shoulders. 

“Gabriella?” 

[wantonlywindswept]

forgotten fox ficbit 2

one here

i recognize the poll results and i am ignoring the poll results =D

I realized there are things i want to happen before fox's batch gets involved (more slow building realization stuff) and that would be Cheating and skipping to the end, so thus you get poll winner #2: Stressing Out Hound ft Grizzer and Commander Vertex

---

Despite what most natborns thought--or screamed, loudly and obnoxiously--Grizzer was not some poorly-trained mutt.

She wasn't as disciplined as the massifs Hound had trained with on Kamino, but those massifs were older than he was. Grizzer had been given to him as a pup just two years before Geonosis, a squirmy bundle of scales with spines barely the length of his thumb; she and Hound had the same amount of active duty experience. 

(She was also, to Hound's bitter regret, not able to be spoiled with the organic aged bantha chew treats that Trainer Jallo had used. Trainer Jallo said that the quality of the rewards didn't matter, but she'd also never had to feed her massifs the slop that Kamino used for animal feed, which honestly was probably only the tiniest step below what they fed to the clones.)

Grizzer was highly competent at her job: she answered all of Hound's commands promptly, hunted down suspects with the same focus and determination as a clone soldier, and knew not to take orders from anyone other than the Guard's commanders or ARF troopers.

"Hound, have you finished the intake form for--oh, hey Grizzer. Down, girl."

Grizzer, who had been in the midst of going for an affectionate full-body tackle (which she only did when she really liked someone, what the fuck), skidded to an abrupt halt at Commander Vertex's feet, plopping her butt down on the ground right next to his boots and staring up at him adoringly.

Commander Vertex, who had only been with the Guard for two weeks. Commander Vertex, who had made it to the kennels maybe once in that entire time.

Commander Vertex, who reached down to pat Grizzer on the head, who instead of getting a warning mouthful of teeth, received a dopey grin and a happy wiggle from Hound's highly-trained massif. 

What the fuck.

With a final pat, Vertex left Grizzer sitting obediently by the door to make his way further into the kennels, occupied by his ever-present datapad. When he reached Hound--still kneeling dumbfounded on the floor trying to fix one of the cleaning droids--he finally seemed to realize what just happened.

"Ah," he said.

"What," said Hound, "The fuck."

Vertex just shrugged, as if getting by a highly territorial massif who tolerated a total of maybe four people was just something that normal people did, and not an act of extremely impossible betrayal.

"I worked with massifs while with Spec Ops. They always seemed to like me."

Hound didn't even know the Spec Ops Brigade had ARF troops.

And that still didn't explain why Grizzer would--

"You shouldn't be down like that," Vertex said, head tilting to one side. "You're going to aggravate your knee. Anyway, isn't Jogan supposed to be in charge of cleaning today?"

"There was a big drug smuggling bust in the Uscru district," Hound replied blankly as Vertex tugged him to his feet. "Bruiser needs the practice."

"So does Jogan," Vertex muttered.

Hound usually stood up for his men, but the commander wasn't wrong. 

Vertex frowned as Hound staggered a little before righting; his left knee was feeling tetchy about whether or not it wanted to support his weight. He held on until Hound was steady before letting go, attention dropping back to his datapad with a grimace.

"Stone needs the intake form on that Nikto you brought in last night," Vertex said, flicking his fingers across the screen. Hound heard the depressingly telltale ping! of a message hitting his comm. "If you get it to him by midmeal, it should be fine. But have Patches take a look at your knee first."

"Yessir," Hound replied automatically. 

Vertex nodded at him approvingly, which definitely wasn't pleasing or anything, and headed back out of the kennels. He paused to pat Grizzer on the head again before disappearing out the door.

In the ensuing silence, Hound stared at Grizzer.

Grizzer stared back.

"Traitor," he hissed.

His extremely poorly-trained massif's tongue lolled out in an unrepentant doggy grin.

And then Hound remembered--

His knee injury wasn't in his file. It happened on Kamino, and would have been an instant decommission if the clone medics hadn't smuggled him in for emergency surgery after training hours. He'd told the Guard CMO about it after being assigned to Coruscant, but Defib had decided to keep the injury off the books as well, just in case any natborns got nosey.

Commander Vertex shouldn't even know about it.

What the fuck.

[mochatsin]

WHEN MC FAINTS

You’re not sure if it's the workload from RAD, the student council preparations, or the fact you have to keep 7 demons under control, but you find yourself so dizzy and fatigued. You were hanging out with the brothers in the living room, and you felt your body give in when you went to get a glass of water.

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

Lucifer

He’s noticed how you’ve started to look more tired than usual these past few days. When he asks you about it, you reply that you’re fine with the same kind of enthusiasm but all of that is gradually wearing down. 

He’s actually the one who told you to get some water when you complained about your headache. He’s also the one who proceeded to lecture his brothers when they started asking you to bring back a few snacks from the kitchen. 

“MC is not your servant. If you want something then go get it yourself or I’ll do something about those legs of yours.” 

While you were on the way to the kitchen, you felt very lightheaded and cold. When your legs gave in, Lucifer stopped mid-lecture and turned to you quickly when he sensed something was wrong.

Before you could even land on the floor, he ran at a speed and at a blink of an eye, you’re already in his arms. 

Expect his mood to go south the moment he sees that you fainted. Would command all the brothers to prepare your room, medicine, pillows, everything you could ever need. His orders are absolute and if anyone slacks for even a second then he’d threaten to string them up by the toes.

He would put his work on hold since ‘it’s for the sake of the exchange program’ and he won’t leave until he makes sure you’re okay. At some point he had to convince Diavolo not to summon the best human world doctor for you. 

Once you’re awake, he’ll give you the biggest hug ever. “You have no idea how bloody worried I was about you…” 

He wanted to lecture you about being more honest if you’re not feeling well, but after seeing your state? What’s more important is that you’re okay. 

If any of his brothers would start bothering you, it’s guaranteed that he’s going to take them out of your room so you can recover peacefully. 

Punishments are harsher from now on if the brothers drag you into any sort of trouble. 

“My brother’s are my responsibility, so focus on resting for now my love.”

Mammon

He lessened bringing you around in his schemes when he noticed how sluggish you’ve been. He says that it’s because you’re slowing him down but really, he didn’t want to tire you out more than he normally does. 

So when he sees you fall, he’s the first one to start running to you out of panic. 

Would hold your body close and refuse anyone from touching you. Like a dragon guarding his treasure. 

Eventually he has to let you go so that they can see what’s wrong with you and get you the help that you need. 

Human biology is not his best suit at all, all he knows is that humans are fragile and this incident is one of the scary reminders to him about that fact. Even if it takes just a few days of bedrest, he’s afraid that it’s still worse than it actually is. 

Would be your guard dog while you’re asleep. He’ll make sure that none of the brother’s are trying to bother you while you’re recovering. Asmo wants to pamper you? He’s suddenly out the door. Belphie wants to nap with you? Find your own bed! 

They’d get annoyed, but the last thing they want is to cross him when he’s on the edge. He’s only like this when it comes to you, so if space is what you need then he’ll make sure that you’re getting that, even if it means he’ll be barking at his brothers. 

When you wake up, he’s running to your bed and holding onto your hand “A-ARE YOU OKAY?!” He’ll ask every 5 minutes. 

If you try to say you’re fine, he’ll just be pouty “Ya said that, but you passed out anyways. I ain't believin ya one bit!” 

He’ll handle any work and chores you have while you take your time to recover. You’re not gonna be able to lift a finger. Water? He’s on it. A book? Already by your side. A snack? He’s got you covered.

Just hope that he doesn’t cause more trouble than necessary when taking care of you. If you want to eat, he means well when he cooks for you but he forgets to clean his mess and it infuriates Satan.

Levi

Levi used to be pouty whenever you started falling asleep during your anime marathons, or when he’d start talking to you about his latest games. Is it because he’s a good for nothing otaku with no interests outside games and anime? 

You reassure him that it’s not him, you’ve just been feeling so tired lately. That’s when he started noticing the signs of you sleeping late and looking more stressed. 

When he turns around and sees that you fainted, he would scramble his way to hold you. His game? This is one of the rare times he doesn’t care if it’s saved or not. You’re more important right now!

Would be all sulky while sitting next to your bed as you recovered. He’d wish he paid more attention to these signs so this wouldn’t have happened. 

Asmo had to tell him to stop being so depressing next to you, that’s not the energy you need when you wake up so Levi tries to perk up by preparing all the shows you two can watch together.

He’s seen more in your room than in his own, which is rare if not for these circumstances. 

Levi could barely concentrate on his games while you’re asleep, and he’ll constantly ask his brothers if you’re going to be okay. He doesn’t want to lose his Henry. 

He’ll panic a bit once you’re awake, asking you several questions just to make sure you’re fine. 

“M-MC! You’re awake! D-do you still remember me? It's Levi! How are you feeling? Are you in pain anywhere?? Sick maybe???”

You have to explain to him, if his brothers haven’t, that this happens to humans who don’t get enough rest. You’re not in any life threatening condition at all. 

He’ll start scheduling his gaming sessions and anime binging to a better time so you would still have plenty of hours to rest. He doesn’t have a healthy sleep schedule but that doesn’t mean you should copy him! 

“Y-you should stay here in bed and rest… I can drop by here more often and we can pick up where we left off in that show you like! I-if you’re okay with it!” 

Satan

He would notice the signs early on when you’re more prone to falling asleep while reading with him. 

At first he likes how you get to sleep on his shoulder. But your optimistic mood started to decline with stress and he began to worry. 

He would be the one to remind you to take breaks every now and then. But you always tell him that you’re fine so he never pushed it. 

He regrets not doing more to help you when he saw that you fainted. He would immediately shove the rest of his brothers out of the way to get to you first. 

Satan was glad he picked up books about humans and healthcare. Something he did when you two began growing closer. At least he knows what to do in situations like these. 

That doesn’t alleviate his worry though. He sits next to your bed, reading your favorite book for you while you sleep. 

If any of his brothers try to disturb you, he’ll be very happy to throw them out. Your peace and quiet is his top most priority so you can recover. 

When you wake up, he would gently place a hand by your forehead to check if you’re feeling sick. 

“Ah, glad to see that you’re doing better. No signs of a fever, you should be fine with a few days of rest but please… be more honest with me when you’re not okay? I want to help you, kitten.” 

He would be gentle with taking care of you. If you miss out on any homework, he’ll be happy to help you out with any of them once you’re feeling better.

That gentleness is not extended to his brothers though. He doesn’t want you cleaning up their messes from now on, his brothers need to learn.

Asmo

Asmo started to notice when he saw how pale you’ve been lately whenever you’d do skincare together. He’d comment about it and offer to take you out on a spa day to relax, but he’d whine every time you’d decline. 

Being as dramatic as he is, he’d let out an ear shattering scream when he finds you on the floor. (Rip to the twins that sat next to him)

Since he knows little to nothing about human health, he’s going to worry too much. 

“What if it’s actually worse?!” “... Asmo it’s not.” 

Satan would probably have to calm him down first and explain what happens to humans who overexert to him. 

Expect him to be all over you once you wake up. He’d give you all the hugs and kisses while asking if you’re okay. 

“Darling, don't make me worry like that again!! It’s got my hair all messed up and my skin wrinkled! you know what that means right? We DEFINITELY need that spa day now.”

You can’t say no to that spa day now, but of course he’ll wait until you’re fit to go out again.

During bed rest, he’ll pamper you and make sure you’re not neglecting yourself. Skin care routines do somehow help boost your mood, you’re not sure if it’s a magical effect of those facial creams he puts on you every night.

He drags you to these salons and spas more often so you can take a break. He’d even offer you some of his bath soaps and scrubs that promote relaxation. 

Beel

He starts getting worried when you are eating less these days. Sure, he’s happy to eat leftovers sometimes if it means more food for him but the portions you leave on your plate are getting bigger lately.

He would ask if you’re okay, since you barely eat lately. You tell him that it's just the stress but you’ll be fine.

When he finds you on the floor, he would scoop you gently in his arms and carry you to your room effortlessly. All while never taking his eyes off you. Thank god for his amazing strength, he could carry you like you weigh nothing. 

Beel looks like the equivalent of a sad puppy when he stays by your side despite all of his twin’s effort in cheering him up. 

Would constantly ask “When will MC wake up?” to his brothers.

He bought all your favorite snacks, while trying very hard not to eat them, and placed them on your bedside table. Maybe if you’re surrounded by the food you like, you’d feel like eating them when you wake up. That’s what he thought at least. Though half of the snacks are gone by the end of the day.

Once you do wake up, his eyes will perk up and call his brothers first so they can check on you. 

“MC, I don’t know what I can do for you if you’re sick but… would it help if I feed you? I’m worried you’re not getting enough. If only that’s okay with you.”

If you said yes, he would be patient and feed you while you recover. You get the bed and breakfast treatment with him, since he doesn’t want you to tire yourself out, though most of the time it’s Belphie who brings it up so Beel won’t eat it on the way. 

He’s more attentive about whether or not you’ve been eating the right amounts at the right times. If he notices that you haven’t, he’ll treat you to your favorite places. At least that way you’re getting enough food, and he gets to spend time with you. 

Belphie

Belphie has complained about the decrease of ‘quality nap time’ with you when you had to do a lot of student council work. Though he noticed the bags under your eyes, and how you’re starting to fall asleep more in classes.

“MC, you look awful. When’s the last time you’ve slept?” He's straightforward like that. 

He would whine every time you say you’re too busy with work. He swears that he’s going to complain, even if it’s against Lord Diavolo, just to lessen your work so he can take naps with you.

When he finds you passed out, expect that his mood is not going to be very pretty.

Beel had to be one to carry you, since strength was not his forte at all. But he would bring all of his softest pillows in your bed because your comfort is what’s important right now. 

Would definitely straight up nag Lucifer in giving you less work because Belphie will not allow you to touch a single piece of paperwork until you actually get enough rest. 

He would snuggle up against you like he always does, but it feels lonelier than usual given these circumstances. He just has his arms around you, hoping that when he opens his eyes, you’ll be looking down at him with a smile on your face.

He would be glad that you’re awake and whenever you try to sit up, he’ll make you lay back down. 

“You shouldn’t get up MC. This time, you’re not leaving this bed until I’m sure you’ve slept enough okay?” 

You can’t really fight him about this since he’s right, so you both make up for all the lost cuddle times. He’ll even let you borrow his favorite cow pillow too.

Though Lucifer would argue that it’s you who needs to be on bed rest and not Belphie who’s constantly asleep with you. You watch when the youngest gets dragged away from your room with a sour expression on his face.

[museandwords]

Warnings: female!reader, 1940’s setting, dubious consent, mentions of war, age difference (hinted), innocent!reader, insecure!reader, bucky is a bit of a fuck boy, i feel like i should mention they do have sex with reader’s parents being in the house so i’ll throw that out there, bucharest!bucky (my beloved come home the kids miss you), reincarnation (kind of?)

Author’s Note: It's finally here! I don’t know what the end goal of this was but I listened to illicit affairs by taylor swift and this was born? To be honest this has just morphed into something and it’s moreso just me rambling but anyway enjoy.  Feedback is always welcome!

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

----

The first time you meet James Buchanan Barnes and his best friend Steve Rogers, you're the new waitress at a diner on a corner in Brooklyn. It’s your first shift, and you're  wearing a satin bow in your hair. You wore lipstick to look more mature, and you gave a dazzling, sweet smile at all those who walked in.

You wanted to look pretty.

You were eager to get a job, loved the idea of some independence and wanted to do your best. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” You ask as you grip your pocket-sized notepad in your right hand, a blue pen in your left. 

When you look up from your pad, your hand stills and your heart skips a beat. It’s almost like the wind gets sucked out of you, and you can feel your cheeks heat up, you've never been so enamored by a man at first sight before. 

He isn’t looking back at you, not right away. His eyes were downcast, focused on the menu in front of him as he contemplated what to get.

From this angle, You can see how pink his lips are, how devastating the cut of his jaw is, and how utterly soft his cropped brown hair looks. 

It's almost as if it’s in slow motion, the way his eyes move over the menu, and how he licks his lips in thought. 

You think he must be older, you don't recognize him or his friend.

He’s gorgeous, and he doesn’t even seem to take notice. 

You only have milliseconds to recover, and your deflated smile returns with vigor. 

“Get whatever you want Stevie, I’m gonna take another minute.” He says as he finally glances over to his friend – Stevie. 

Stevie is a tiny little thing, all slumped shoulders and pale skin, and probably the same size as you, but you like how large his eyes are, how gold his blonde hair is, despite the clear indicators that he isn’t well. 

“Uh, yes…Can I just get a chocolate milkshake and fries?” Stevie asks you, looking up with those crystal eyes and you begin to write his order down. You nod, warm and polite the whole time. 

“Of course.” You tell him gently, finishing your writing before your eyes dart over to his companion, who is now looking up at you.

And you're met with the breathtaking blue eyes you have ever seen.

You try your best not to outwardly react to him, after all that wouldn’t be very professional of you. 

But how can you not feel weak in the knees when he looks up at you like that, how can you not get butterflies when he’s the most gorgeous boy – man – to ever exist?

“And you?” You ask softly, not even realizing you're nervously biting your lip before his gaze glances towards your mouth, and he smiles – amused!

“Well, Princess, can I please get a chocolate milkshake as well and…a burger?” He asks. You swallow, before nodding your head, writing down his order. 

“Just a regular burger or would you like cheese on it?” You ask – rather dumbly.

And he just keeps on smiling, eyes sparkling with delight as you nervously press your pen to your paper. 

“What would you recommend?” He asks, leaning forward and batting those perfectly long, curled lashes.

You flush…

“I-I normally like it with cheese…” You reply, bringing your pad closer to your face in hopes of hiding behind it. 

“Alright, princess, I trust you on this.” He says with a wink. 

You barely recover. 

—-------

You are quite proud to say you have successfully survived any and all encounters with one James Buchanan Barnes after that. 

He frequents the diner on a weekly basis, normally with Steve, or his sister or – and the most disappointing of them all – his dates. 

And, you learn against your own will, that Bucky indeed goes on lots of dates. Which, you suppose you should’ve known.

You never serve him when he comes in with a girl because when he comes in you're either on a break or you haven't clocked in yet or you're just ending your shift, and you're thankful for it. 

You know that you wouldn’t be able to be the friendliest you could be when he brings girl after girl through those double doors and orders milkshake after milkshake. 

It doesn’t take you long to come to the conclusion that the tiny little crush you harbored for him turned into a not-so-tiny-and-little crush. 

It was big, bigger than anything you've ever felt for a man, for sure. Which is pathetic considering you only ever spoke to him when he came in to order some food. 

So every time Bucky Barnes came in with a new girl under his arm, you could feel yourself deflate just a little more. 

They’re never the same girl. 

Every few weeks Bucky comes in with a new one tucked into him. 

Every time it’s the same thing, he’s got that stupidly boyish charming smile on his mouth, those intense, breath-taking blue eyes focused on nothing but his date, and he’s always so well-dressed, even in the simplest of clothes. 

Every time, you see each of them fall under his spell.

You can’t really blame them.

One thing you do notice is that it seems Bucky just likes women, they have no particular similarities; blondes, brunettes, girls with hair as black night. Wide brown doe eyes, siren-like blue eyes, and everything in between.

Bucky just really seems to appreciate women. 

But the thing is…they’re always older than you.

—--

You remember the first time the two of you had a moment. 

It’s later in the evening, and he looks exhausted, smelling of salt water and sweat and sun. His usually pale skin has a soft glow to it, and he’s sitting on one of the stools rather than a booth. You had just come back from your break and was surprised to see him.

“Hi, have you been helped?” You ask as you slip back on your apron.

Bucky looks up at you, those startling blue eyes shining with mild recognition, and then there it is, that easy, disarming smile that never fails to make your stomach swoop.

“Oh, not yet princess,” He says and your heart skips a beat at the pet name, an echo from the first time you unofficially met.

You blush, nodding your head as you pull out a notepad and the pen that had been nestled in the bun of your hair. “What can I get you?” You ask.

He glances at the menu. You know what he’s going to get, he orders it every time.

“Milkshake and a cheeseburger, please.”

—--

It becomes a thing after that. After that first night when he sat on the stools. Something changes. 

Bucky comes in every week, sometimes twice. 

He always comes in during your shift. Always the exact same time;  right after working from the docks, and he sits in the same spot. And he always orders a milkshake with a cheeseburger. 

He chats you up in between tables, waits for your break so he can follow you and take you for a little walk down the street, waits until your shift is done so he can walk you home. 

He talks about anything and everything with you, his childhood, his passions, his dreams, his mother and sister and his dear friend Steve Rogers. 

And in turn you tell him about your own ambitions, what you strive for in life once you get a little older and more sure of yourself.

Not once does he laugh or belittle your dreams. 

“Hey, princess?” He asks, one evening when it’s late and the sun has gone to bed and it’s pouring rain outside.

“Yes, Bucky?” You answer as you go about your closing duties, you only spare a glance at him with a small, pointed smile.

“When are you gonna let me take you out?” He asks, leaning forward on the bar as his eyes are zeroed in on just you. 

You know that look, you’ve seen him use it countless times – girl after girl – and you know, instinctively, that maybe you shouldn’t. You’ve seen how this plays out. Bucky gets interested, gets what he wants, then he’s off to the shiny new toy. 

So, the odds aren’t in your favor, you know this.

But who are you to say no?

—

It's your first date. The very first one. 

Your parents never allowed you to date and well — you had never been asked out before.

So of course, it is both an exhilarating and anxious affair, you had worn your best dress, washed your hair and applied your mother’s lipstick.

Bucky shows up with flowers, he impresses your mother and even manages to successfully charm your father. 

It’s a simple date, ice cream and a stroll in the neighborhood.

He eats chocolate ice cream, you have strawberry.

The thing is Bucky is a great conversationalist. You can see why girls swoon and sigh when he talks to them. 

He asks questions, genuinely listens and responds with a meaningful response. He is also insanely funny, his quick wit is impressive. 

He tells you he wanted to be a writer, but university just wasn’t in the cards to pursue this dream, so he settled for the docks. He tells you he wanted to write science fiction stories and dreams about a futuristic society where there is magic, flying cars and talking animals.

“And what about you, princess?” He asked as he held your hand. 

Your brain is so overcome with the sensation of how big and warm and calloused his hand was that you barely processed the question.

“Hmm, what?” You ask, taking a lick of your strawberry ice cream to focus on something – anything. The cool sensation against your tongue is enough to alert your senses. Bucky laughs softly.

“What do you wanna be when you’re all grown up?” He asks in that endearing way.

“Oh,” You say as you think. It wasn’t like you had some big ambition, girls like you – life was pretty much about survival in this day and age.

“I always wanted to have my own little shop, like with food or coffee maybe, somewhere people can come and just be.” You tell him.

“Yeah?” He asks, genuinely interested. You nod.

“Tell you what, when you get your little shop, I’ll come and do my writing there.” He says as he beams at you, his eyes full of sparkles and wonder and hope.

You laugh.

“Only if I get to read the rough drafts.”

“Deal.”

—--

As much as you like the little dates, the walks in the parks, the little rendezvous, you also long for the more serious ones, the dinners, the dancing. 

But you notice Bucky never takes you, and he always insists on you two meeting up on your own, he says he likes the intimacy of just the two of you. 

But you also think about how when Bucky would date other women, he was very, very into showing them off.

You try not to read too much into that.

But it seeps into your soul, crawls into your brain when you’re alone and the thoughts just won’t stop. So, one day, while you’re walking by the water and he’s rambling on about some fight with Steve, you interrupt him.

“Bucky?” You ask, your voice so small, so unsure. He immediately notices your tone and his attention is on you in full.

“Yes, princess?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“How come you don’t…” You take a breath, figuring that isn’t the best choice of language. “How come we don’t ever go dancing?” You ask. 

Bucky looks surprised by the question, though his gaze softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek tenderly. You know by his touch, by the way he’s looking at you, that he knows.

“I’d love to go dancing with you, princess, it’s just…I know you’re always on your feet at work and I didn’t wanna make you feel obligated or forced…” He admits as he leans closer, his lips ghosting yours as he looks earnestly in your eyes. 

And, you hadn’t been considering that, automatically you had assumed maybe he was ashamed to be seen with you. And your heart melts faster than an ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

“I’ll take you dancing, girl.” 

—--

So, the two of you become a thing.  An unofficial, official thing where Bucky is unofficially your boyfriend. And it’s been longer than a few weeks, his usual dating pattern. 

It’s been a thing that’s been sitting in the depth of your body, somewhere where your stomach meets your abdomen and it’s warm. 

It happens every time Bucky holds your hand, or when he brings a straw or spoon to his mouth and sucks, or when he gets that hyper focused intense look in his eye while he’s deep in thought or doing something. 

You feel it in the depth of your core, and every time your heart skips several beats and you lose your breath. 

It happens the most when he kisses you. 

And he kisses you a lot. 

In the beginning it was small pecks goodbye, gentle kisses on your mouth that felt like soft summer rain and tasted like chocolate and salt.

Lately he’s been more zealous in his kisses. More aggressive and handsy. He’ll grab you by the waist, his hand finding the small of your back as he tilts your chin up to him so he can place a hot, open mouth kiss on yours. 

It’s always during your break, or when right before he goes home, or when you’re on one of your little dates and he just can’t seem to relax. 

You like kissing Bucky. You love it. 

He’s all-consuming, he wants everything you can possibly give him. Your mouth, your sounds, your soul. 

And you give it all to him. 

Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament. 

You weren’t being the greatest daughter when Bucky Barnes snuck in through your window.

“What are you doing?” You whisper scream at him, exhilarated as he moves to close the window, that boyish mischievous grin you’ve come to know beaming on his face. 

“I missed you, princess. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, had to come see you.” He whispers back as he stands to his full height and turns. 

He’s looking around your room. It’s a little messy, some clothes were resting on your vanity desk chair, and flush from the fact that he’s seeing this intimate part of you. Bucky doesn’t say anything, if anything you can’t help but notice the way his eyes soften, especially when he sees the posters on your wall, and the records you have on a shelf.

Or the family portrait of you and your parents that hangs above your bed.

Then, suddenly he’s sitting on your bed, and he’s pulling you into his lap.

“Bucky–!” You say before his lips sufficiently cut you off from whatever you were about to say. 

It’s one of the more urgent kisses, the one where his mouth is licking into yours, his hands are moving up and down the expanse of your back, his fingers feel dry against the cotton fabric of your white nightgown. And then they’re tangling in your hair. His fingertips playfully tease the straps that rest on your shoulders. 

It’s like he can’t get enough.

You’ve made out in the past, but he’s never had the urgency that he is currently encompassing. It makes your body flush, your heart rate picks up. And you’re completely still in his lap, especially once you start feeling your pussy begin to throb in response to the way he’s touching you. 

This isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, far from it. There were a few times in the past where he’s made you so wet you had to squeeze your thighs shut and let out a strangled “Bucky–wait…” And he always respected your limits. 

But now, he can’t stop. Not when he has you right where he wants you, all breathy and soft and all he could think about on the way over was how plump your lips looked after he kissed you, or how soft the curves of your body were when you wore those summer dresses he loved so much.

And you can’t help but whimper in his mouth as his hand comes up to massage your right breast over your nightgown. 

“Shit,” He whispers as he finally breaks the kiss and looks where his hand is on your breast. He realizes then, that the flimsy fabric is the only thing between him and your breast. He squeezes once, twice. It’s almost like he’s entranced as he palms your breast, rubbing the fabric against your nipple.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl.” He tells you as he finally breaks his gaze from where he’s touching you and he looks up into your half-lidded, hazy eyes. 

He did that. He made you look so hazy and besotted, just from his mouth, his hand. 

He feels his cock twitch in his pants just from the sight of you.

He didn’t mean for it to get this far, not really. He just wanted to come and kiss you goodnight, to hold you for a little, but once he crawled in through that window, saw you in your nightgown, and was engulfed in the scent of just you from being in your bedroom, something inside of him snapped. 

“Am I?” You ask back, and you look so vulnerable, so precious as you look down at him, all swollen lips and glassy eyes. He nods.

“Most beautiful girl in the world, my beautiful girl,” He murmurs. His hands come back up, and his fingers find the straps again. His beautiful eyes meet yours, and you notice how dilated his pupils are, how heavy with lust he looks. And there's a question in his eyes, and you nod your head. 

You suppose, in a way, you should’ve known it was going to come to this. 

What other way was it going to go? Especially when the feelings you have for him grew, bloomed into something so beautiful and intense that you’d give your soul to him.

Bucky swallows, before he slips the straps off your shoulders, and you both move to push the fabric down and off your torso, and it pools at your waist. 

Your chest is flushed, and your eyes are wider as you suck in a breath as his eyes fall to the exposed skin of your breasts. He lets out a low, soft, groan, before his hands come up to rest on your back again, and he leans forward to capture your left nipple into his mouth. 

You let out a muted whine once his hot, wet mouth latches on, and his tongue comes to flick and swirl around the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure.

Before you think against it, your hips begin to grind down against his, back and forth, gently, just enough to tease his bulge against your clothed pussy. The only thing between you and the fabric of his pants is your panties.

Bucky groans, the vibration reverberating around your nipple which causes your hips to stutter. 

“Shit…I don’t want to stop.” Bucky murmurs as his mouth finally unlatches from your nipple with a soft pop and he moves to kiss and nibble the expanse of your breasts. 

Then he takes a deep inhale of air and rests his forehead on your collar bone, willing himself to calm down.

Except.

“I don’t want you to either.” You whisper, your heart pounding in your chest as your skin flushes the most beautiful scarlet.

And it’s like something snaps, in both of you.

—

You hadn't seen him in a while, not since that night. 

You try to move forward, try not to dwell too much on it, but your brain continues to throw images of that night in your mind's eye. 

Bucky's body, naked and pressed against yours. Bucky on top of you, his hot breath against the expanse of your neck, over your breasts.

Bucky's forehead pressed to yours as he looked down between the two of you, watching his cock move in and out of your tight heat with each thrust. You can hear the way he groans, echoing in the recesses of your mind as he —

You always snap back to reality just as you feel your stomach drop. 

And you feel so, so stupid when you remember what you told him. 

Why did I tell him I loved him?

So, imagine your surprise, when the man of all your dreams and nightmares walks through the diner’s door, dressed in army green, standing tall with his chin confidentiality tilted back. 

But  you can't help but think that the uniform is wearing him. 

And your heart sinks. 

No.

You're helping another customer when you spot him, and his eyes are on you in an instant, moving toward the bar stool as he waits for you to finish.

Your lips purse together as his gaze lowers. And he never looked more like a kicked puppy than he did in that moment. 

“Shelly? Can you cover me for a minute?” You ask your co-worker, who is pouring one of the regulars another cup of coffee. 

“Sure thing!” She calls back. And you take off your apron before you move to walk to the back door of the diner. You don’t say anything to Bucky, but he knows to follow just the same. 

You feel a whirlwind of emotions swirl inside of you, anger, relief, confusion, fear. And it bubbles up and sits heavily in your chest as your mind races a mile a minute. 

When the two of you are in the back alley, you turn to him, resting your hands on both of your hips as your gaze burns a hole through his face. Bucky looks downward for a moment, avoiding you. 

How the hell does he think that any of this was okay? 

You want to rip his head off, chew him a new one, tell him to stay away from you. And you're gonna tell him! You're gonna —

“Please tell me you're not going.” You're surprised by how soft, how vulnerable and hopeless you sound. 

Bucky's breath comes out fast, and he stands a little straighter. 

“I ship out tomorrow.” He tells you, and he tries to look so brave, but you can't help but notice the fear in his eyes. 

This is the first time you don't see Bucky as this great, impressive man, he looks more like a little boy.

Your eyes begin to water. Tomorrow. 

That’s too soon. He can't.

“...What am I supposed to do?” You ask as you begin to really cry now, your voice cracks and you can feel your face become hot. 

Bucky is quick to cross the space between you, quick to scoop you into his arms and begin shushing you as his hand comes to rest gently against the back of your head. 

He holds you so tenderly. 

“Wait for me.” Bucky whispers. “Wait for me sweet girl, I know I messed up…I got scared. You didn't do anything wrong, I swear it. I just got scared.” Bucky whispers into your hair. 

“But after I got my papers I just. It made me realize that I love you too. God, I love you.” He says, and his own voice is swelling with emotion as he holds onto you tighter. 

This is it…

“When we win, I want you to be here when I land.” He tells you so softly, his blue eyes are almost watering too as he searches your depths. 

And it's all you've ever wanted, it's all there in his eyes, in his words. 

“You have to come back.” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his cheek as your eyes are watery and bleary. “You have to come back this time…” You beg him. 

Bucky brings his lips to your forehead, pressing his mouth so gently as he places a long, tender kiss there.  “I'm gonna come back, I'm gonna come right back home to you and make you a wife, sweet girl.” He whispers. 

You close your eyes, and you smile but it's so heartbroken and sad. Your hand comes over his, where it's placed on your hair. You can't help the feeling that is crawling in your throat, pooling in the depth of your belly. 

It doesn't feel right. 

“You’d better, James Buchanan Barnes, or I’m going to tell your mother.” You threaten, and he laughs. 

—---

So, Bucky ships out. 

The two of you agree to write, Bucky's letter comes first. He tells you of the travel, the living conditions, some of the friends he's making, and how much he misses milkshakes and cheese burgers and your kisses.

You tell him you love him, over and over and over again. Because you feel like you can't tell him enough. And you feel that there is nothing you could tell him about back home that would make him feel any better. 

The clock keeps ticking…

He tells you about his capture, but nothing too graphic, you notice the change of tone in his writing and how he seems to be more unsure of this whole Howling Commandos thing with Steve. He seems more urgent, more desperate in his wording, and how he tells you he can’t wait to come home and help you open that little shop you always wanted. 

Your heart breaks when you notice the smudged letters, the way the pen seems to drag and move more often than not, and that he crosses things out, and there are tear stains. 

And then one day, they just stop coming, and you know something happened. 

You can't explain it, but you know it was bad. 

And then you get the official notice, the letter signed by Colonel Phillips. 

And your whole world shatters. 

—- 

2016…

 Bucky is in Bucharest, he just got off of a long shift at the construction site.. 

More days than not, he's been haunted by non-linear memories, and anything triggers them. 

Sights, smells, sounds. They all bring back 80 years worth of memories, but they're so miniscule, so quick to pass by in his mind that he has to write them down before he forgets. To try and tether himself to who he used to be all the while trying to figure out who he is now. 

He remembers the smell of his mother’s laundry, the pigtails his sister wore, he remembers hot summer days in a tiny little home. He remembers the taste of something chocolate and frozen and the smell of grease and salt.

Just glimpses of the man he was before a lifetime ago. And all he wants to do is grab them and hold onto them tight.

Tonight, he's tired, genuinely has no energy to cook. 

So he decides to go down to the little restaurant on the corner of his street, a local favourite, or so he’s been told by the sweet little old ladies of his apartment building. 

Bucky takes a seat in one of the corner booths and he keeps his eyes down, making sure not to draw too much attention to himself as he brings his baseball cap lower. 

He nearly has a heart attack when he feels the presence of someone beside him. Though he relaxes once he realizes it’s a waitress. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” 

And Bucky freezes. That phrase echoes in his mind, over and over before it morphs into something that smells like caramel, and he thinks of moonlight, neon signs and I love you.

He knows, undoubtedly, that he knows that voice too. He looks up, startled and shocked because he knows. He knows it’s you.

Or it looks like you…

He doesn’t even know who you are, but he knows by the way his heart stops beating, and he feels a rush of blood through his body, and the way he feels like he’s been punched in the gut that he knows you, he knows you from when he was James Buchanan Barnes, boy from Brooklyn.

But how can it be you?

“Um…” Bucky doesn't even look down at the menu. He's too scared to look away because what if you disappear? 

“Oh um…do you have milkshakes and cheeseburgers?”

[mountttmase]

Not Yours

Note - happy Tuesday 🩷 thank you to the anon for this request. It’s not something I’d normally write but I quite enjoyed this one so I hope you all do too. Feedback would be very much appreciated 😉

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 4.8k

Warnings - smut

Don’t answer the door to anyone.

That’s what your mother had always told you growing up when on the rare occasions she would leave you home alone. The sound of the doorbell still sending shivers down your spine as in your mind it meant danger; however now you were living alone sometimes you had to answer the door.

Tonight was one of those times.

It had just gone half ten. You were in your pjs all ready to go get tucked up into bed when the unmistakable sound of the doorbell rang through your flat. Stopping you in your tracks almost instantly.

Who the hell could that be?

You had an idea, not wanting to open the door for them at all so you approached the door as quietly as you could in order to look through the peephole. Relief washing over you instantly as the person you wanted to see least was not on the other side of the door. In fact it was probably the last person you ever expected to see so you carefully stepped back and slowly opened the door.

‘Mason?’

‘H-hi y/n’

‘Is everything okay?’ You asked, picking up on demeanour instantly. Mason had always shy and reserved around you in the short time you’d known him but this was something different and you watched him gulp down a nervous lump before nodding.

‘Um yeah, well no actually I uh- sorry I just-‘

‘Would you like to come in?’ You interrupted, sensing he needed a little push and his eyes softened ever so slightly as he gave you a lopsided smile.

‘Please’ he nodded, so you moved to the side before leading him into the living room so he could take a seat on your sofa.

‘Can I get you anything?’

‘No thank you’ he replied, carefully sitting down and keeping his clasped hands in his lap. He was more nervous than usual and you were perplexed as to why he was here.

‘So, to what do I owe this pleasure’ you asked and you really wanted to know the answer. You and Mason weren’t exactly friends but you always felt like you could be. He was always sweet to you and once he had a drink down him, the pair of you had had some great conversations. He was kind and polite and always asked you questions about yourself but as soon as he was sober he was back to his usual shy self. You couldn’t tell if Mason had had a drink tonight but the way he was acting made you think he hadn’t.

‘It’s uh- it’s about Cam’

Cam.

Cam was your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend as of yesterday but also one of Mason's very good friends. In fact Mason was just about the only one of his friends you could stand sometimes and you wondered why he bothered to keep them around.

‘Look if he’s sent you round to try and butter me up for something it won’t work. He ended things and I’m not gonna let him treat me like his plaything that he can pick up and put down whenever he wants. I’m done’

‘Wait what? You broke up? When?’ He asked, his face full of confusion and you could tell he really had no idea what was going on.

‘Yesterday’ you told him solemnly. ‘He came and got me from work. I thought he was taking me out to dinner or something but he told me he was done and just left me in the middle of town on my own I was humiliated’

‘Shit. I’m so sorry y/n’ he breathed, hands unclasping as if he was about to reach out and comfort you but in the end he decided against it.

‘It’s fine, I think it’s for the best anyway’ you shrugged, ‘I actually feel pretty alright, like he’s a bit of a twat thinking about it’

‘You can say that again’ he mumbled and you smiled before rolling your eyes. Hoping you could change the subject and find out why he was really here.

‘What can I do for you then?’

‘Oh um well it seems a little redundant now and I don’t wanna upset you any more than you are’ he explained but if it was about Cam you wanted to know.

‘No it’s okay. You came all this way it must be important’

‘Y/n I don’t think-‘

‘Please, Mason. I want to know’ you argued and after a short sharp exhale of air his eyes dropped to the floor so he could speak without looking at you.

‘Look y/n there’s no easy way to say this but… he’s been cheating on you’ he told you softly. ‘I found out about an hour ago. I think he knew I’d say something to you if I found out before but we were out and he was bragging about it a bit and he’s so drunk he showed me a video of him and this other girl, you know... Apparently it’s from a few months ago’ he told you sadly. ‘I just thought you deserved to know’

‘Oh’ you breathed, your whole body tingling as soon as the words settled into your skin. You can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind that he would do that to you, but you never had any evidence that he had so you forgot about it and moved on. To now hear this coming from Mason was making your head spin and you weren't quite sure what to do with yourself.

Cam knew you were insecure at the best of times and even more so around other women but he always made out like you had nothing to worry about. Maybe his words had had a little less conviction lately but to know he’d lied to you like he had made you feel sick to your stomach and you had no idea what to say next.

‘Are you okay?’ Mason whispered, but you could only nod. Biting down on your bottom lip to stop your emotions from spilling out but he could obviously tell something wasn’t right. Carefully wrapping and arm around your shoulders in order to comfort you in some way and even though you could tell he was still a bit shy he let you melt into him as you turned and tucked your head into his neck. Needing comfort from where you could get it right now. ‘I’m so sorry’

‘It’s not your fault, you didn’t do it’ you laughed, hot tears falling from your eyes no matter how much you tried to sniff them away. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying, we’re over anyway so it’s not like it matters or I can do anything’

‘You’re allowed to be upset. You only broke up yesterday’ he told you softly and you allowed yourself to be sad for a little bit.

You didn’t talk, he just held you to him as he rubbed slow comforting circles into your skin with his thumbs as you played with the hem of his shirt. Wondering how you’d got here and why Mason was in your flat in the first place. He was Cam's friend and as much as you appreciated his honesty needed some answers.

‘Why are you here Mase?’

‘I told you. You deserve to know’

‘But why? You’re Cams friend. Don’t your priorities lie with him?’

‘Not at all. Not when it comes to this’ he said softly and you felt yourself nuzzling into him further as he held you to him. As much as Cam had proved to you people can be shit, Mason was everything he wasn’t and had slightly restored your faith in men a little bit by the way he was comforting you.

You both fell quiet again, just sat there listening to each other's breathing as he held you together. Your thoughts running away from you as you thought over your time with Cam and your sadness began to turn to anger quickly. He’d lured you in, just like they always do, and once he was bored he went behind your back before tossing you aside.

You liked Cam, you wanted to make it work and maybe you put up with more than you should have in hopes you could turn things around. Only realising in the last few months of your relationship that you could probably do better than what he was offering to you. But you held on to the idea of the boy you once knew, in hopes that maybe you could change him.

Leopards rarely do change their spots though.

You felt low. Lower than low in fact. Not wanting to give Cam the power of making you feel like shit but you weren’t sure how to feel any differently right now. Tears stinging the backs of your eyes again as it all hit you and you couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of your mouth.

‘Do you ever wish you could be someone else?’ You whispered ‘like just for a day? I just wanna be enough for someone, you know? For myself even at this point’

‘Hey, stop that’ he whispered. Moving slightly so he could look into your glassy eyes and the look on his face made your heart swell in your chest. ‘I promise you, you’re more than enough. I never got why you were with him in the first place like you’re so far out his league’ he told you, a small chuckle falling from your lips as he wiped your eyes gently. ‘I’m serious, I know he’s my mate but he’s an arsehole. You deserve so much better’

‘I’m just really angry’ you laughed bitterly. ‘I wanna get him back so badly. Like make him feel like shit too. Not just for cheating on me but for all of it. Make him hurt like I hurt’

Mason was silent but you could tell he wanted to say something and when you looked up at him he was smiling down at you shyly.

‘What’s going on in that little brain of yours Mase?’

‘Firstly, it’s not little’ he winked and even though you knew he was talking about his brain you still blushed at his words. ‘And secondly, I may have an idea’

‘Oh yeah?’ You laughed, turning to face him and you didn’t miss the subtle bite of his lip.

‘Call me insane but If I was you I’d fight fire with a little more fire’

‘I don’t understand’

‘Do to him he’s done to you. I get you’re over but he didn’t tell anyone that tonight and was making out you were still his. Show him you’re not’

‘You mean… get with someone else?’

‘Precisely. And let’s say evidence or something gets sent to him to prove it then that’s just a bonus’ he laughed and you could’t help but like the idea. Sure it was insane but you were past the point of acting rationally.

‘Okay, let’s say I want to do that. I’m never gonna find someone quick enough for it to hurt him in time’

‘Well I know one person who would be happy to do it right now’ he winked. Surely he didn’t mean himself but after you raised your brows at him he gave you a subtle nod.

‘Are you serious?’ You laughed and even though he was smiling himself, you knew he was. ‘Why Mase? What’s in this for you? I know he’s not your favourite person in the world but damn’

‘I have my reasons’ he chuckled, eyes falling into his lap. ‘Two years ago, before you were on the scene, I was talking to this girl for a few weeks and I really fucking liked her. Her name was Juliet' he confirmed and the name struck a chord with you instantly.

‘Cam’s ex was called Juliet’

‘Exactly. Took her from right under my nose and has never let me forget it’ he told you and you nodded lightly.

‘So it’s like payback for you?’

‘I guess so, yeah. But that’s not all this is to me though, you know that right?’ He reassured you, threading his fingers through yours gently. ‘I like you. A lot. I know you’re not supposed to fancy your mates girl but fuck… everytime I saw you I wished I’d got there first somehow’ he confessed with a laugh and suddenly his nervous behaviour all clicked into place. He wasn’t shy, he just liked you and the thought made you blush. ‘That’s why I’ve not ever been able to speak to you properly before, not when I’m sober at least. You scare the shit out of me and I knew I’d fall for you. I’m not like him and I’d never do what he did so I kept away from you but I’ve always liked you. I’ve just had enough of sitting by and watching him treat you like crap when you deserve so much more’

‘So this is a bit of a win win for you huh?’ You teased, watching his face turn red as he nodded shyly.

‘We don’t have to, maybe it’s going a bit far but it’s just an idea. I get you won’t have the same feelings towards me but I’m not all bad’ he chuckled but you just found his self deprecating side endearing.

‘I’m up for giving it go if you are’ you whispered, hand reaching over to touch his arm and you watched the goosebumps rise up almost instantly on his skin. ‘You know if we do this though, that’s it for you and him’

‘I know’ he winked. ‘I’m kinda counting on it’ he laughed and one look at his lips as he smiled made you want to kiss him instantly.

‘Come on then lover boy’ you laughed, swinging your legs over his lap so you could get close to him. ‘How about we just kiss first, see where that takes us?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive’ you winked, resting you hands on his chest but he made no move to try and get closer to you. ‘Are you still sure?’

‘Yeah, sorry. I’ve just thought about doing this a million times before but I never thought it would happen’ he told you softly and his words made you melt. ‘God I feel so awkward’ he laughed his hands resting on your waist as you cupped his jaw and you knew you’d have to make the first move as he was starting to loose it a bit so without thinking about it too much you lent forward and placed your lips on his.

You thought it might feel a bit wrong, kissing Mason like this but he made you feel more in this one exchange than Cam had in months. A shiver rolling down you spine as he moved his mouth against yours like it was something you did everyday. It felt natural and you didn’t want part from him anytime soon so you held him to you even tighter until he began to smile.

‘You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that’ he whispered against your lips, making you giggle before pulling your face back to his so you could kiss him again. Deeper this time as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth and you moaned at the feel of it.

He was a good kisser. He knew exactly when to speed up or slow down, he was gentle with you but still strong and you could feel your insides churning as his hands began to explore your body.

You weren’t sure if it was the thrill of what you were doing or just Mason himself but you hadn’t felt this turned on in a long time so when he began to slide his hands lower to grip your bum you let a low moan fall from your lips before moving to straddle his waist. He was looking up at you like he was in awe and the low groan that spilled from his lips as you peeled your shirt from your body gave you more of a confidence boost than anything else ever had.

‘You still wanna do this?’ He breathed, tearing his eyes away from your bare chest to look into your eyes and make sure you were 100% happy. ‘You can back out whenever, yeah? Just say stop and I will’

‘I wanna do it’ you confirmed, his soft eyes lighting up before he was getting serious again.

‘Only if you’re sure. Even if you just wanna get a picture or whatever and stop we can’ he told you but before you could reply your hands were reaching for his own shirt. Legs almost giving way at the sight of his body laid out underneath you. You’d never seen anything like it and couldn’t help but reach out to trail your fingertips over him. Pride filling you as you watched his muscles dance under his skin but the little smattering of hair that trailed into his jeans had your mouth watering.

‘I think I wanna suck your dick’ you blurted out. Your mouth running away with you before you’d even thought about what you were saying but it’s like you were in this lust filled trance and all you could think about was being in between Masons thighs.

‘Jesus Christ, y/n’ he groaned, helping you off of him so you could settle in between his legs and as soon as your hands reached for his fly he helped rid himself of them as you took his boxers off with them. Letting him sit there bare infront of you and you could tell he was a little unsure of himself. He had no reason to be though, you’d never been so turned on by just looking at someone before so you quickly dropped your shorts so he didn’t feel as self conscious before climbing back into his lap.

‘I don’t want a picture, I want you to film me’

‘Are you sure?’ He laughed, taking your phone from your hand before opening up the camera and sliding along to the video setting.

‘It doesn't have to be anything long, just a few seconds’ you confirmed and once you were settled back between his thighs he met out a shuddery breath. ‘Can I start? Or do you need a minute?’

‘Go ahead’ he chuckled but you could tell he was a little apprehensive so you went slowly. Kissing over his thighs as you took him in your hand to hopefully get him hard but there was no need. He was ready for you so you quickly licked your lips and took him into your mouth.

The breath he let out at the feel of you made your thighs clench together as you slowly got to work, hands gripping his thighs as you bobbed up and down on him until you felt his hand in your hair. You looked up at him through your lashes and his dark eyes were staring back at yours before he finally hit the record button, taking him in as far as you could whilst working the rest with you hand as your mouth moved.

You’d never been this into it before, hoping that would come across on camera as you made Mason feel good before you heard the video end and he placed your phone to the side of him.

‘I’ve got the video’ he told you through a moan, hand in your hair to grab your attention and when he was able to pull you off you both were looking at each other with wide eyes.

‘Can we carry on?’ You panted, not having nearly enough of him yet even though you’d gotten what you needed from him technically but you felt like you were just getting started.

‘You want to?’ He asked, a bewildered look on his face but you nodded shyly. Itching to feel him in some way so when he lent forward and his hands made contact with your hips you stood up so you could straddle him again. Your core now pressed up against his length and the feel of it made whimper.

‘Please Mase’ you whispered, biting your lip but he didn’t move. In the end you simply reached down and took him in your hand, lining him up with yourself to see if he would react and the subtle push of his hips into you let you know he wanted this just as much. So you gave him what you both wanted, sinking down onto him and the feeling was like nothing you’d felt before.

‘God, you feel insane’ he groaned, holding your waist and you lent to pick up your phone so you could watch the video quickly. You could just about tell it was you but there was no way you could tell it was Mason and watching him disappear into your mouth just made you want to grind down on him.

Without thinking too much about it you sent it to Cam, withholding your number so he couldn’t tell it was from you before turning your attention back to Mason who was looking back up at you with a cheeky smirk.

‘You ready?’ He whispered but you responded with your hips. Rolling them forward and watching his eyes disappear in the back of his head somewhere before you began to bounce on him. His hands guiding you just how he pleased but the sound of your phone continuously pinging made you pick it up in hopes Cam had seen your little surprise.

‘Mase he sounds pissed. And he’s calling me’

‘So answer it’

‘I- fuck, I don’t know’

‘He wants to talk so lets talk. Put it on loud speaker so I can hear’ he mumbled so you did as he asked, hitting the answer button without a second thought before putting it on loud speaker.

‘H-hello?’

‘Y/n, what the hell is going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What’s wrong with you? Why did you send me that video? I know it’s you so don’t deny it’

‘I’m not’ you told him, trying to hold your moans in but Mason was hitting you in all the right places and making it difficult for you to hold back.

‘When was the video taken?’

‘About three minutes ago’ you confirmed, followed by a whimper as Mason bounced you up and down even harder. ‘Hurts doesn’t it’

‘You’re fucking insane’

‘I’m fucking something, but he’s not insane’ you laughed, feeling Mason rest his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to hold in the giggles himself.

‘Wait, what? Are you with them right now?’

‘Unlike you I had the decency to wait until we were over before fucking someone else but yeah he’s here’

‘Tell me who it is’ he bellowed down the phone, your eyes on Mason's dark ones but you could see the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

‘You really wanna know, huh?’ You teased, a shuddery breath falling from your lips before you went for it. ‘Fuck Mase, that’s it right there’ you told him, feeling his hands wander up to your chest so he could palm them gently.

‘Mase? I swear to god, y/n-‘

‘What, Cam? You can’t do shit. I’m not yours anymore, remember. But you were mine when you decided to do the same with someone else. This is just payback’

‘You’re lying. This has to be a joke’

‘Fuck, y/n’ you suddenly heard Mason moan as you slightly adjusted your hips. ‘Did he ever make you feel this good baby?’ He asked with a wink.

‘Nuh uh, you’re so big Masey’

‘That’s it’s, who's making you feel this good huh?’

‘You are, Mase. F-fuck I’m so close’

‘You hear that mate? Or do you need another video to be sure?’ Mason laughed before attaching his lips to your neck.

‘Fuck you’ Cam suddenly spat and with that he hung up the call.

You threw your phone to the side, focus entirely on Mason and the way he was making you feel so when he suddenly stopped your hips you were confused.

‘Lay down for me?’ He asked, one hand reaching up to settle on your lower back as he adjusted both of your positions and you let him move you so you were laid down. Him towering over you now as his eyes raked over you hungrily. ‘You’re perfect, you know that right?’ He told you seriously and you felt a shiver roll down your spine.

‘Mase, I-‘

‘Cam, and any other prick who made you feel like you weren’t enough. I want you to forget them, yeah? Just focus on me’ he told you, but you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. His eyes had captivated you and you were both trapped in each other's stare as he lent his forehead gently on yours before pushing himself back in.

You let him control the tempo this time. One hand by your head to hold himself up as the other travelled right to where you needed him to be. Rubbing slow circles on your clit as he slowly pounded into you.

This felt different to any sex you’d ever had. He was focused on you, making sure you felt good first before he let himself go and before long his name was falling from your lips as you clenched tightly around him. Your high coursing it’s way through your veins as he made you feel like no one else ever had.

You let him slump down on top of you, his weight feeling comforting as he slowly traced shapes on to your ribs and even though his breath was ticking your neck you swore you would've laid there for a lifetime. Just soaking in each other’s presence and comfort and you got your breath back.

‘That video, he won’t use it against you will he?’ Mason asked quietly. Almost as if he didn’t want to disturb your peace but you just smiled and you brushed your hand through his hair.

‘I shouldn’t think so. He knows I have a fair few pictures of him that he wouldn’t want anyone to see so he’ll keep it to himself’

‘Pictures of what?’ He asked with a laugh and you had to bite back a smile as you pictured them in your head.

‘Let’s say they involve fluffy handcuffs and rabbit ears. Not worn by me though’

‘Ah okay’ he chuckled, face nestling down in your neck again and you couldn’t get over how cute he was or how much comfort his touch bought you and you couldn’t help yourself from placing a few soft kisses to his hairline. ‘When you’re ready, do you think maybe I could take you out?’ He asked quietly, that shy tone lace throughout his voice again and your heart squeezed at the way he was still nervous around you.

‘How does next Tuesday sound?’

‘I’m serious’ he laughed. ‘I’m happy to wait for you, you know that right? Cause yeah this was fun and whatever but i do actually care about you. I know this is probably all new and a bit weird for you so I’m happy to wait or we can hang out a bit more and see what happens?’ He offered and you felt warm at his kind and considerate he was.

‘I’d like that’

‘Really?’ He asked, his voice sounding shocked before he leant up to look at you.

‘Yeah, I mean I’m not blind Mason. I’ve always thought you were handsome and a nice person and I get why you were a little shy with me now. If anything you’re probably way too good for me-‘

‘Stop that’ he huffed, ticking your side as he looked at you with a pout. ‘I don’t like it when you say stuff like that about yourself’

‘Sorry’ you whispered, but his face softened instantly.

‘Just give me some time, yeah? I promise I’ll show you that you’re more than enough, Not just for me but for anyone. I’ve never done anything like this before, you know? Like swooped right but I just don’t wanna miss this opportunity when I know I could make you so happy’

His words made your eyes fill with tears. Never had anyone wanted to fight for you like this so you gently pulled him back down to you so you could place a gentle kiss to his lips. Feeling him smile against you as he deepened it but he was pulling back soon after. Not wanting to push things too far.

‘I might need a little time too. But I think we can make this work’ you told him softly and the reassuring smile he gave you melted your insides. ‘Will you stay tonight?’

‘Are you sure?’ He asked, dropping his forehead on yours but you knew you couldn’t be without him now so you nodded lightly. Nose brushing up against his gently before he planted a quick heavy kiss on your lips.

‘Please. I don’t want you to go’

‘Okay’ he smiled. ‘I’m all yours’

Thank you so much for reading 🩷 I really hope you’d enjoyed it and I’d love to know what you thought 😘

[yanderederee]

I love your work and your whole blog is just so amazing! I would like to request letter A for Baji from Tokyo revengers. Thank you, have a nice day dear! :)

This one’s going to be longer than normal— sue me. Read more cause it’s long

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Baji Keisuke is a very intense person. When he feels strongly about a person, it’s hard not to notice. He goes out of his way to give Pah’s dog extra attention when he’s away, carries Mikey to and from places when he falls asleep randomly— everyone feels at ease when they’re with Baji because he is a safe person that they know they can trust.

So for his significant other; of course he’ll show his affections openly. Though it may look like less like romantic affection than it would a doting mother (does that make sense?)

Baji will wholeheartedly take care of you.

You have a stomach ache in public? He rubs your back and finds a place for you to sit, or takes you home immediately if you want. Even if he’s not entirely sure how to fix your issues, he’s dutiful in the way he cares for you.

Order something you don’t like at a restaurant? You got two options, you two can swap meals (because he doesn’t care what he eats as long as you’re happy), or he’ll order a safer option for you.

Can’t sleep? He’ll be half delirious, but he’ll stay on the phone with you and let you chat while he mumbles back replies to make you feel better. Battery might be shot tomorrow but he only uses it to stay in touch with you anyway.

Leaning into romantic affection: not so much into the casual stuff like hand holding (he’s a little squirrelly and gets frustrated if his arm is locked down for too long), but loves looping his arm over your shoulder and holding you close to him at all times. It’s more than showing people you belong to him, it’s also the comfort having you near brings him.

If he’s sitting and getting stir crazy, he’ll play with your fingers. It eventually becomes a fidget of his so he doesn’t realize he does it, but everyone else does.

Likes cuddles, specially holding you. He loves feeling you wrapped up in his arms and pressed into his neck. He could get lost in thought and lay there for hours thinking of all the things he adores about you.

If you fall asleep, he’ll stare at your face; gently pat your hair or trace your features… he’s star stuck thinking about you.

Also shows his affection in protecting you. Can not stand when other people waste your time. If you’re enjoying the conversation then sure, he’ll endure. But if you show any sign of fatigue or annoyance, he’s quick to swoop in and come up with an excuse to get yall going.

That goes for his own friends too. If anyone so much as gives a backhanded comment about you, (I.e: she’s leeching all of your time Baji/Cant you go anywhere without her?/she’s fine but I don’t like having her around/etc), he goes off. There was nothing fucking wrong with you and if you were content being by his side, then he would happily keep you there.

“Fuck you say? Ain’t no one ask you, so keep your shit shut.” He can get really aggressive with his language and dialect, don’t try fighting him further than that, it will end in fists and blood.

Speaking of, is happy to beat the shit out of anyone for you. There’s not a lot that is beneath him. (More on this @/Blood) He doesn’t hit girls, but he will pull their hair and scream in their face for a long time until they get the picture to not mess with you.

Overall: Baji only becomes an intense yandere if other people get involved. If it’s just the two of you, he’s extremely doting and careful with you, but does his best not to stir you into complex feelings that might cause you to leave him.

[luffyvace]

How aizawa courts you/relationship headcanons

y’all seem to really like the crush headcanons i did so now i’m doing him when he actually tries to court you and when your actually together :)

this is still going to be canon aizawa btw

also still fem reader in mind

okay so now that aizawa is trying to court you, like in love and wants to date

he’d be forward about it

probably waits until your at his place or yours

then as your doing whatever he’ll ask

“y/n i have something important to tell you”

“yeah? what is it, it’s not bad is it?”

“no, i actually just wanted to know if you’d like to go out somewhere with me. a date.”

your reaction may vary from shock to a knowing smile

either way you accept politely (how could you reject such a fine man?)

so you both talk about the date and end up planning it out right then and there

you decided that weekend would work fine

so after that’s settled you talk about each other’s feelings, how and why they came to be

you figured out you fell first but he fell harder :)

so your first date would be out somewhere simple yet fun and with a little less people

so there’s this place called cat island in japan

yeah

its perfect

(i hope your a cat person)

it’s exactly what you think, there’s cats everywhere search it up

there’s more cats than people actually

its heaven for him

you guys have a fun field day with cats then head back to your house

chatting and looking at the pictures you took

and yeah!

again he’s straight forward with courting

so now we’re on relationship

you guys are definitely closer now

i’ll go through a normal day for y’all then relationship things

so

aizawa gets up early for his job

he’ll get ready and text you to see how your doing then go to work

if you work at ua with him and live together

he likely gets up first if not y’all are up at the same time

when he’s ready he’ll wake you up if you like to sleep in

and warm the car while he waits if it’s winter (yippie he’s freezing so you don’t have to)

y’all drive to work together

you can text him throughout work but he won’t reply unless it’s important or a genuinely good question

he won’t slack off the job (EVEN THO HE SLEEPS ON IT)

anyway

if you work with him he’ll text you on break if your not already in the staff room

or if you have separate jobs he’ll still text to check up on you

makes sure you eat something

is today stressful so far?

why? vent to him.

he truly cares about your physical and mental health

once you both get home from work he’ll run you a bath and cook dinner

he’s a average cook, can cook basic things

if y’all don’t live together he’s more likely to order take out though

not always junk food sometimes he’s just tired and orders a salad. he’s upset because he knows he can make it himself but he’s just so tired

so he appreciates if you turn the tables and treat him to a bath and hot meal (if y’all moved in together)

but if y’all got your own places sometimes if your both still energized you’ll come over to one another’s house

if y’all live together he falls asleep real fast

won’t mind if you snuggle next to him

except for when he gets hot

then he turns over 😭

sometimes he’ll try to stay up to have those late night convos with you but don’t get mad if he falls asleep, it’s by accident. y’all can always continue the next night :)

he won’t snuggle you btw

just because he naturally stays on his side of the bed

he ain’t a wild sleeper

he flips from side to side

its rare to catch him on his back for more than a few minutes

LUCKY YOU HE’S NOT A BLANKET HOGGER

if you are tho

he’ll get annoyed the first few times but he won’t say anything about it

after a few nights he just gets his own blanket

if your a wild sleeper this annoys him more than hogging the blanket

he’ll tell you, you keep kicking him and slapping him in his sleep and it wakes him up

yknow your boy likes some good sleep so he doesn’t stand for you wakin him up

suggests to get two beds

but you don’t like that idea

so he’ll probably end up putting pillows in between you or sleeping in his sleeping bag on the floor 😭

if y’all stay at different places tho

its rare for y’all to have a sleepover

he doesn’t see the point in having two different houses if you just want to sleep at his

would think about moving in together

but he won’t bring it to the table unless he see’s a opportunity or feels you’d feel comfortable/like that

if you do manage to convince him he’s not staying up and playing or smth he’s literally going to sleep

if your a wild sleeper he won’t do it again

otherwise you may be able to convince him like 2 or 3 more times

dont tell mic though if mic teases him he’ll never do it again

not to spite you but out of annoyance from yamada (mic)

he just won’t feel like it anymore

btw keep your room clean or be scolded

”clean your room y/n there’s no reason you should have clothes and clutter everywhere.”

“you don’t even need half of this stuff, just clean it.”

now to genuine relationship things

well for one i’m telling you he won’t call you pet names

just

“y/n”

”why should i call you ___ if your name is y/n”

doesn’t see the point in them

you may be able to convince him a few years into the relationship to call you “babe” or anything simple and sweet but that’s it

maybe a “n/n” occasionally

if YOU call HIM pet names tho

he wouldn’t mind :)

still doesn’t get it tho

just don’t make it anything too sappy

he’ll funny look you if you do

especially at work

or around mic and all might

would prefer if you stuck to the simple ones or a nickname tho

another thing

if your a hero, a reckless one at that, he’ll worry for you and scold you if you get injured

please don’t give this man a heart attack

”you need to be more rational”

if your already a rational person thank goodness

he’s glad he doesn’t have to babysit a whole class of students and you

random

but

if you like coffee or tea he’ll make you some before/when you get up

if you don’t live together he’ll bring you a cup if you both work at ua

if you work on weekends (idk how some people do it) he’ll bring you a cup on your lunch break

giving each other massages>>

he’s really good at it too

he’s a good person to vent to as well

especially about the stress of work because he felt that

he’ll take you on dates randomly even if y’all are in a relationship

not every week

but he’ll take the time out to spend it with you if he has some

he’s a traditional gentleman

and by that i mean buy you flowers and gifts

but not just “roses 🤓☝️“

he’ll actually take the time to learn your favorite flowers and buys you reals ones to take care of

if you don’t have a green thumb how else will you learn?

so he’ll buy them anyway

helps you take care of them though

he waters them and reminds you to if you live separately

he buys you little trinkets and gifts that BENEFIT you

not just something that’ll “collect dust” as he says

like if you tell him your vacuum breaks down every few months

he’ll RESEARCH one that doesn’t, is inexpensive and cleans well

and buy it for you :)

overall he’s a 10/10 boyfriend 100% green flag

ladies and gentlemen (and whoever’s in between)

get yourself an aizawa

enough said

have a good day/night

[elletheactualmenace]

You Would do That for Me? - Pt. 2

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: Todays the day. You and Peter are going to confess your “secret relationship”. How will your best friends take it?

Warnings: swearing, Not in this part but is present in other parts -Verbal assault, Little but some physical assault, Catcalling, Bullying,

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Sorry this took so long, lifes been crazy recently. Sorry in advance to any star war lovers. Let me know if I missed any warnings. And also @kaleidoscopewritings19 you asked me to put you on my tag list so here! Im glad I could be of some help, and thanks for being interested in my writing! Anyways enjoy this part!

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

“Peter!” Someone calls and Peter turns from his place at his open locker. He sees Ned walking over with a tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” Peter waves before turning back to his locker to pull books out and put them in.

“Guess what?” Ned asks spinning the lock on his locker, which was right next to Peters.

“What?”

“I found it.” Peter stops his movements. And he turns his head slowly to Ned with wide eyes.

“You found it? Like actually found it?” Peter asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Ned nods slowly so Peter catches it.

“How? Where?” Peter asks quickly. And Ned pauses, like he’s been caught. Peters brows scrunch in confusion.

“Okay, now, hear me out,” Ned starts chuckling nervously. “It wasn’t the official site, but-“

“You didn’t order it from a legitimate, original site?” Peter asks face palming. Ned really wants a Lego set that has been sold out for weeks, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I never said it was illegal.” Ned argues, opening his locker and quickly stuffing some of his textbooks in.

“So it was a scam?” Peter asks as Ned shuts his locker, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Not a scam.” Ned counters.

“Definitely a scam.”

“No, no, no, Peter, listen to me, I know it isn't a scam, because my cousins, best friends, little brother also ordered from the website and it came." Ned says like he is trying to convince himself.

"I don't think that's a credible source, dude. Have you even met your cousins, aunts, friends, brother?" Peter asks skeptically, raising a brow.

"It was my cousins, best friends, little brother." Ned grumbled out with an eye roll. And Peter puts his hands up in defense.

“The fact that you have to correct him just proves the point more.” Peter hears your voice and before his eyes even meet you butterflies erupt in his stomach. He tries to push away the nervousness and act normal.

“See exactly!” Peter exclamins in your dereliction. Ned leans in close to Peter's ear.

“She’s only agreeing with you because she likes you.” Ned whispers in an annoyed voice. Immediately Peter's face goes bright pink in embarrassment. He hits Ned's arm and steps away from him so he can rub the back of his neck. Peter begs anything that may be listening that you didn’t hear Ned.

You couldn’t like him. He isn’t your type. You deserve someone who’s confident, handsome and in your league. All the things Peter doesn’t excel in.

“My point proven,” Ned says quietly. Peter begs anything that may be listening that you didn’t hear Ned.

Before Peter can form a rebuttal the bell rings. He sighs still embarrassed trying to look anywhere but your face.

“Okay come on you five year olds, let's stop arguing about credible sources, and whose brother said what.” You put your hands on both Peter and Ned's backs, pushing them to their first period. The second your hand meets the fabric of Peter sweatshirt his whole body stiffens. Peter tries to ignore the fact that you’re touching him, and focus on walking.

——

“You would- do that for me?” Peter's heart is pounding, he can’t believe this is happening. There is no way that you are asking him if you can be his girlfriend.

When the words fall from his mouth he really wants you to reply with something romantic like “I’d do anything for you,” and then kiss him till he feels dizzy, but he knows his wishful thinking is only that, a wish.

“Well, I mean, sure. And anyways, you’d keep the creepy guys away from me.” His eyes grow impossibly wider.

What is happening? Did he do something? Are you messing with him? Why in the world would you, Y/n Stark, be asking little nobody Peter Parker to be your boyfriend?

Peter’s mouth is agape and he's trying to figure out how to speak. He can’t form a sentence with everything running through his head.

“God, Peter stop being an idiot for once and say something to her! She's waiting.”

“I- I-“ 

“Just spit it out, Peter.”

“I would love- to be your boyfriend Y/n.” Peter sees your shoulders untense and drop before a smile is plastered on your face.

“Really?” You ask him and he nods so fast it gives him whiplash. Of course he wants to, how could he not. He wants to pour his heart and soul out to you right now, for fucks sake.

“Yeah.” He replies with such a big smile it hurts his face.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” You blurt out. Peter hesitates before asking, not wanting this beautiful moment to so quickly fade.

“Why would I say no?”

“Well- umm- i don’t know.” You shrug awkwardly. Peter blinks waiting for an answer.

“I donno, I thought maybe you would think it would ruin our friendship.” Peter nods in understanding.

“But- but I want you to know that this is strictly pretend. And for the benefit of both of us.” You comment quickly, trying to explain the rules of the agreement.

Peter's heart is hit with a pang of sadness. He wishes it was real with all of his heart. But for now, he has to be happy at the opportunity to even pretend to date you. After all, you asked him. Not Ned, not some random guy, him. And god, did that make his heart swell.

“Yeah, of course.” He says, nodding quickly. 

“Okay good.” You say, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Peter only nods with a smile. His face may be calm and collected but his heart is doing flips.

“When- when will this,” he pauses, not sure if he can use the word he wants to use. “Relationship being? Or sorry- when will we- you know, start?” Peter asks in a jumble of words.

Your brows furrow. You didn’t get that far, unfortunately. You tap your chin in thought.

“Umm…not sure. Tomorrow maybe?” You say, still thinking.

“Tomorrow!?”

Peter thinks as panic, excitement and horror sets in. He’s happy but nervous, everything is happening so fast.

“Yeah um-“ his voice cracks and he curses the puberty gods for being so cruel.

“Sounds good.” He says more calmly this time.

You outstretch your hand to shake his, he does the same.

“Okay. Tomorrow it is.” You say with a smile. “But before that, I think we need to clear a few more things up. Just to make it convincing.” 

Peter nods in agreement, trying to look as smart and put together as you are right now. But in reality he’s just happy you haven’t stopped shaking his hand.

——

Peter's day has been crazy. When he woke up this morning he hadn’t and couldn’t have thought or dreamed up anything that’s happened.

First, almost missing the train, second getting humiliated in front of the whole class, he could’ve thought that up, but, you being there to hear it and then standing up for him? He couldn’t believe it. And second, which happened to be more unbelievable, you asked him the question he’s been trying to find the courage to ask you. But even better, you skipped right to boyfriend and Girlfriend. You skipped the awkward dating and testing the water straight to holding hands and cuddling.

Obviously he didn’t mean that that’s what was going to happen, but one could only hope. And even if the hand holding wouldn’t happen at least he could call himself your boyfriend.

He always tries to stay level headed whenever Flash is like that. He doesn’t want it to get to his head, that could affect his productivity and performance in both school and as Spiderman. It also helped to know that Flash looked up to Spiderman and thought he was cool, that made the tension in his fist easy up whenever Flash said something dickish.

Overall, Peter has had a great day. Now he is laying in bed after patrol, his mind is racing with a million thoughts a second. He still needed to process everything that happened that day.

You and Peter had discussed and decided to keep the bid up around Ned and MJ. You both concluded it would be more convenient and convincing if they believed it too.

You also talked about the backstory. You would go to school and pretend like you were both coming clean about your hidden ‘relationship’ after a couple months of not telling them. You’d confessed to ‘falling in love’ with each other over Summer break. And after a while decided to ‘try it out’. And here you were. 

It was a perfect plan. You and Peter had in fact spent a portion on summer break together at your Dads beach house. Ned couldn’t go and a family emergency kept MJ from coming. So you and Peter were alone. It’s the perfect setting for a fake love story.

Peter knew that Ned would be so mad that he wasn’t in on the secret relationship. He needed a good cover for that. After all, Peter told Ned he was Spiderman, and you still don’t know. Hopefully he could also make sure Ned didn’t tell you any secrets that didn’t need to be shared. Like the fact that Peter has a big fat crush on you. And has been crushing for quite some time now.

If Ned slips that piece of information to you, you’ll know he actually likes you. It would be awkward. And obviously Ned will think you guys or together so it doesn't matter, because you both like each other. While, in fact you are only doing this for the mutual benefit of the both of you, not because you like him like that.

God. He had so much to prepare for. And you stayed late, making his patrol rounds run later. He's exhausted, but he can’t sleep until he comes up with a way to protect his fragile ego.

You on the other hand aren’t as anxious, you have a plan. Kind of, it's more like a detailed outline with missing chunks. But a plan nonetheless. You know what you’ll say to MJ when she gets pissed at you for not telling her. And you know what you’ll say when she eventually forgives you for not telling her and then asks about all the details of your relationship. 

You know what you’ll say, and you are prepared. You just hope it won’t come to her asking if you two have gone farther than a kiss.

——

“We got this.” Peter whispers to himself as he waits for you at the school’s entrance. His head is down in thought. Mind and body both anxious.

“Definitely got this.” Peter jumps at the sound of your voice. He didn’t sense you at all. Not that it would trigger his Peter tingle, like aunt May liked to call it, because you weren’t dangerous.

“Sorry,” you apologize “didn't mean to spook you. But we do got this. We’ll be fine.” You say reaching up to rub his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

Peter's body stiffens and you pull away, not trying to make him more uncomfortable. But in reality he was just nervous around you. 

You pause, a little worried about him.

“You know we don’t have to do this Pete.” You smile softly.

“No, no, no, no, no.” He rambles out quickly, “We do- I mean we should.” He stumbles over his words. 

“I'm good.” confirms, and he takes a quick breath and nods to you. You nod back smiling at him.

“Okay then,” You say, sheepishly offering your hand to him. “Let's do this.”

Peter’s hand slips into yours and his heart beats so loud he can hear it. From the looks of it, you aren’t as in awe as he is with the two of you holding hands. But why would you? You’re not really together or anything. 

You and Peter walk down the hall in silence, both anxious of the awkward conversation that's going to take place. Peter's head spins and he keeps his eyes down avoiding any human interactions, trying to think. He thought about this all last night, sure, but one night to think about something this big isn’t a lot of time. You probably just want the help you need as soon as possible. 

“Wait,” the thoughts in his head stop for a second as something dawns on him. “What is Y/n getting out of this fake relationship?” 

He felt so stupid for not thinking about it before now, and he felt like an asshole even more for not asking you. What was going on in your life, that you needed a boyfriend to fix? Were you getting made fun of too? Or was it worse than that? 

He tries to think back to last night, when you asked him to be your fake boyfriend. What had you said? His mind is scavenging through everything from last night.

“Okay, calm down Peter. Just think. What did she say? How did the conversation start? She had to have said the reason at some point.

She said:

‘I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff. Then no one would ever give you a hard time,’

Then I said:

‘You would do that for me?’

Then she said: 

…

What did she say after that? Oh god, what did she say?”

Peter panics. He has been so wrapped up in his own gain, that he forgot he was supposed to be helping you too. There was something you needed him for. But he couldn’t remember.

Peter opened his mouth to ask you, worry and guilt, replacing the previous anxiety. There was a pit so deep in his stomach he swore he could throw a rock in and it would take an hour for it to hit the bottom.

He lips part ready to ask, but he doesn’t get to, because his eyes catch sight of MJs worn down Converse All-stars. He lifts his gaze to meet MJs. He can’t bring it up right now.

“Peter?” She asks, “You good? You look like you did when you first found out Y/n doesn’t like Star Wars.” MJ informs.

You laugh at MJs comment and it makes him turn to look at you. He’ll have to ask you about it later. Right now you both have to “come clean” to your two best friends.

“Yeah, umm” He clears his throat, “I'm good, sorry, just thinking.” MJ keeps her eyebrow raised as Ned walks over butting into the conversation.

“Also, why are you and Y/n holding hands like you're on a date?” You again laugh, but this time awkwardly.

“Well,” You smile shyly, Peter squeezes your hand lightly, letting you know he's here for you. You give him a soft smile and a nod of appreciation. “We have something to tell you guys.”

“Yeah,” Peter adds on with a smile. Ned and MJ give each other looks before turning their focus on your and Peters intertwined hands. MJ squints, deep in thought, and Ned looks between the two of you quickly.

“Don’t tell me,” MJ eventually sighs, she's come to the conclusion after “close” inspection.

“We’re dating.” Peter confirms, anxiously looking at his two friends and then to you.

“We have been for a couple months now,” You add, “We’ve just been waiting for the right time to tell you.” You say stepping closer to Peter.

“WHAT?!?!” Ned screams. You flinch slightly, as does MJ and Peter. “And you didn’t think to tell your bestfriend?!” Ned lowers his voice when he notices all the eyes on him from people in the hallway. But the anger in his voice doesn’t waver. 

“I-“ Petter stutters, not knowing what to say.

“How did it happen?” MJ asks, tapping her foot. She looks a little annoyed. Peter guesses, it's because Y/n hadn’t told her about their secret relationship. “Or what happened?”

“To sum it up real fast for everyone,” Y/n started, “And I can explain it better later, we started dating over summer break when we were at my dads beach house.” Ned and MJ look at you waiting for you to continue.

“We were alone, and I guess it provoked our confessions and, well here we are.” You say blankly, hoping for a good reaction. 

“Why didn’t you tell me Peter? I'm your best friend.” Ned asks sadly. 

“We just didn’t want to say anything because we were testing it out, in case it didn’t work, we didn’t want to break up the friend group. We wanted to be sure we were serious.” Peter quickly adds on quickly to try to explain the situation. Ned nods, understanding a bit more now.

“So, you too are serious?” MJ asks. You just shrug with a smile, and a smirk grows on her lips “I knew it. I knew something was going on-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut her off, your eyes wide and voice anxious. Peter notices for a second before Ned speaks up.

“Ohh,” Ned says in realization, “So, this is why you-“ Peter rips his hand from yours to cover Ned's mouth, not wanting him to say something embarrassing. Peter's eyes get big and he slowly shakes his head.

“I- Can we talk about this at our lockers please?” Peter asks nervously. Peter quickly nods to you and MJ before walking off.

You are too focused on MJ to see him walk off, but he does see your flustered face. He's too preoccupied to dwell on that right now.

“Oh my god, Ned no.” Peter scolds as they get to their lockers.

“What?” Ned asks, confused. “It's not like it's a secret now, you like her and she likes you.”

“Yeah but,” He pauses and sighs, twisting the lock on his locker. “You can’t tell her anything I’ve told you.”

“Why not? You're together now, what does it matter?” Peter's face flushes, “Ohh, you haven’t told her everything, have you?” Ned realizes.

Peter shakes his head confirming Ned's words.

“And I don’t need her to find them out. So please for my dignity and sanity don’t.” Peter pleads, finishing moving his books from his locker to his bag and vice-versa.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Ned nods, reluctantly understanding. Ned pauses, as Peter shuts his locker and turns to him.

“What?” Peter wonders aloud his eyebrows scrunched.

“I can’t even tell her how long you’ve been crushing? It's not like it matters or anything.” Ned begs with a whine, he wants to tell you so bad, it's so funny, and it was cute to see him so fond of you.

“No Ned, no.” Peter says seriously. Ned grumbles angrily, but eventually nods in agreement. 

“Listen, she doesn’t even know about-“ Peter starts before leaning in to whisper to Ned, “Spiderman.” He leans back and continues to talk normally.

“So you can’t tell her anything. At all. I don’t need her freaking out.” Peter sighs, rubbing his temples. Ned nods again.

“Okay. I promise I won’t say anything.” Ned says a little disappointed.

“I'm being serious, Ned. You can’t say anything. Not about him, or about my-“ Peter pauses to blush.

“My crush,” utters quietly. “Nothing at all. I mean it.” Peter continues.

“I know.” Ned rolls his eyes, “My mouth is shut.” Peter nods thanking him. And they both just stand there for a second. After a minute Ned speaks up.

“I can still talk to her though, right?” 

“What?” Peter asks, confused at the question.

“Like, Y/n, I mean. You and I are friends and I don’t want to cross any lines or anything.” Ned responds sheepishly.

“Oh my god,” Peter laughs, less anxious now, “Yeah, goodness. I'm not going to make you stop talking to her.”

“You guys are friends, and I'm not a crazy boyfriend.” Peter comments laughing again. Ned starts laughing with him. Peter smiles softly thinking about how much he liked to word boyfriend coming out of his mouth, it rolled off his tongue perfectly, he was a boyfriend. Not just that, he was your boyfriend.

“Right, just making sure.” Ned chuckles, pulling Peter from his thoughts, now feeling less stressed about the whole situation. “You never know.” Ned adds with a smile.. 

“I'm also sorry for not telling you sooner, Ned.” Peter quickly apologizes. “You are my best friend, so you should have known sooner, I just-“ 

“It's alright Peter. I get it. It's hard, at least I know now.” Ned responds.

“Plus, now you can tell me about all the stuff you two have been up to.” Ned smirks at Peter who is blushing profusely.

“Ned- we didn’t- I mean haven’t-“ Ned rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Sure you haven’t,” Ned chuckles, “I understand if you don’t feel uncomfortable with-“

“Ned! Oh my god, stop!” Peter stuffs his hands into his face embarrassed. And Ned just laughs as he drags Peter to their first period. 

Peter wants to be present and happy with Ned, but he can’t get his mind off of you, and what you said. Or, what you said that he can’t remember. Why did you need to fake a relationship? What did he need to protect you from?

Tag List:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

@sunnyx07

@hollandweather

[eggyrocks]

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter two -> a call

word count: 6.2k

(masterlist ; written content ; taglist)

now playing: loud bark by mannequin pussy

The video store fired her. Apparently, it’s not good optics to tell customers to go fuck themselves.

She’s better suited to her new job, anyways. The Higurashi CD Store has better air conditioning, and she gets paid about 3% more, which is 3% less overtime she has to work. Not to mention the clientele (pretentious, university boys who are uppity about their taste in music) seem to appreciate her lack of customer service skills. They think it’s cool when she’s unhelpful, and even cooler when she ignores them.

She leans up against the front counter, behind the register, and stares at her phone. Her thumb is frantically pressing down the buttons, so hard it leaves an imprint on her thumb: right up right down left up left down right up. Her front teeth bite down on the tip of her tongue. She’s about to break her high score in Snake.

There’s a customer standing at the counter. She doesn’t notice them. “Hey,” he says, and he stops to wait for a response. She doesn’t give him one. Right down left up. Her eyes narrow at the screen. “Where can I find the Melt-Banana section?” the customer asks, and she can feel him lean in closer.

“Probably with all the other ‘M’ bands,” she replies, curtly and hardly opening her mouth as she does so. The words come out rough and mumbled.

From her peripherals, she can see him push off the counter, and he’s either grinning or grimacing. She doesn’t really care either way. Her pressing of the keys gets more aggressive. The score climbs, and she figures she’s about two seconds away from breaking her high score when she’s interrupted by a text.

One new unread text message.

She stares. She forgot phones got text messages. At this point she just sort of thought they were just for Snake and deleting voicemails from your father.

Down, down. Select.  

FROM: UNKNOWN CALLER

hey. its iwa. u busy tonite?

Delete.

Are you sure you want to delete this message?

No.

Her fingers snap the phone shut, and she’s quick to pocket it.

Iwaizumi Hajime (neighbor, likely gunrunner, newfound admirer) has not left her alone. She cannot make up her mind on whether or not this is a bad thing.

She’s not sure what it is about her that he’s taken such an interest in. It’s not quite in line with the way she views herself (bland, boring, a bit rude, fairly plain, and uninteresting). She kind of figured that, once the cops gave up on trying to catch him for whatever it was that he did, that he would go back to mostly ignoring her.

He has not.

In the mornings, he brings her a coffee. The first time, the knocking on the door woke her. She groaned as the sound of it stirred her from her sleep, hoping that either she was imagining it or whoever it was would go away, if she ignored them for long enough.

But Iwaizumi Hajime has an irritating sort of persistence that cannot be ignored. He knocked again.

She groaned as her bare feet hit the cold ground and she didn’t bother taming the wild knots in her hair or wiping the sleep from her eyes. She just waddled towards the door, in the same t-shirt she wore the day before and an old pair of boxers. That morning, she didn’t bother checking who was on the other side before she undid her locks and flung the door open. She was too tired to use proper judgement.

Iwaizumi was on the other side. Eyes bright and black hood pulled over his head. Her attention was drawn to the split in his bottom lip. She didn’t notice the cup of hot coffee until he held it up to her. “Got you this.”

She tilted her head to the side, eyelids still drooping. “A coffee?” she questioned, sounding sort of dumb, her voice still thick with sleep.

He nodded. She looked down at his lip again. It looked fresh, the cut. “I didn’t know what you’d normally order, so I guessed.”

Hesitantly, her fingers wrapped around the Styrofoam cup, and she took it from him, watching as a drop of blood trickled down his chin. Iwaizumi didn’t seem to notice. She wanted to reach out and wipe it away, but didn’t. Instead, her free hand rose to her own lip, pointer finger tapping against the flesh and dragging it down. He watched. “You’re bleeding,” she remarked.

Iwaizumi shrugged but used the back of his sleeve to wipe away the spilled blood. “It’ll be fine.”

He would know better than her, she figured. It was not the first time she’d seen Iwaizumi with blood on him. She raised the cup and took a small, careful sip. The flavor flooded her mouth at once. Burnt, syrupy sugar and thick milk. Her nose scrunched involuntarily. “What is this?”

“Not a caramel person?” he questioned, and chuckled at the way her disgust was made clear in the twisting of her face. “I thought you would like sweet things. Don’t tell me your order, though. I wanna get it right on my own.”

Iwaizumi left after that, and she realized she forgot to say thanks.

He continued showing up at her door, knocking against the wood until she rose from her death-like sleep. He’s done it enough to fuck with her sleep schedule, and now she wakes up at eight in the goddamn morning daily, always just a few minutes before he arrives.

It’s just a part of both of their routines, now. He hands her a coffee she would never drink on her own, (an iced Americano, a chai latte, a cortado, other bullshit she's never even heard of), and leaves without saying much. Once he’s gone, she drinks the whole thing.

On the fourth day, she took a sip, shook her head, and said, “You know, you don’t have to feel indebted to me.”

Flat white. Wrong, again. Iwaizumi smiled at her. “I don’t feel indebted to you.”

At night, he’s a little less consistent. But she figures his work schedule requires flexibility, so it makes sense.

His excuses for knocking on her door are less consistent at night, too. It ranges from ‘hey, sorry for the noise last night,’ to, ‘I found this CD you might like,’ and, most alarmingly, ‘I kinda just wanted to talk to you.’

She doesn’t really know if it’s a good thing or not, all of his attention. She likes it. She likes when there’s a knock on her front door and it makes her heartbeat uptick in pace for just a second. She likes the way that he grins and the timber of his voice and she likes that he’s just around.

A lot of her life has been lived alone. Days at a time without speaking. Days at a time without seeing another living person. It got worse when she buried her brother. There were some days when she felt like she could slip below the surface of the earth and never emerge again, and not one living soul would notice.

Now that Iwaizumi has slipped her into his routine, it’s a little harder to think like that.

Still, his occupation makes her uneasy. She’s gotten this far in life by strictly adhering to one, single rule: mind your own business. There was already too much of Iwaizumi Hajime she noticed before, but now that he has become a consistent visitor to her doorstep, it’s even harder to ignore the injuries, the noises, the neatly packed boxes and wads of cash going in and out of his pocket.

And if he keeps it up, she’s worried her façade of obliviousness can only hold up for so long. She doesn’t want to get wrapped up in it.

She marks the text as unread and goes back to Snake. It freezes, and then crashes, previous high score untouched.

The text burns in her back pocket for the rest of her shift. As she rings people up and restocks and pretends to clean, she writes out responses in her head. She’s trying to draft the cleverest, most casual response but the only thing she can think of saying to him is, ‘no, I never am,’ which is not even close to clever and so self-deprecating it’s almost pathetic.

Texting is sort of hell, for her. It gives her so much time to overthink and overanalyze everything she could possibly say, finding faults in every sentence structure and word choice. At least in person she’s awkward and blunt without hesitation.

By time she’s done with her shift and is locking the store doors behind her, the text still sits in her pocket, unread. If the past however many months of anecdotal evidence are enough, Iwaizumi will be sitting on the front steps, smoking a cigarette by the time she gets home. She can respond to him then if he still wants an answer.

She feels stupid when she’s surprised to see him there. Or at least, her body feels surprised, if the way her mouth dries up and heat rushes to her head are any indication. It seems like the more and more she comes face to face with Iwaizumi, the less prepared she is for it each time.

He’s on his phone when she approaches, rapidly pressing his fingers against the keys, so he almost doesn’t notice her when she passes. And with the harsh look of irritated concentration he has etched into his expression, she’s not about to interrupt him.

But as she tries to step past him, his head shoots up, like her presence ripped his attention back into reality. And before she can get any further, his hand shoots up to grab at the end of her sleeve. “Hey,” he says, and she freezes, head turned to look down at him. He lightly tugs at the end of her sleeve. “Sit with me, for a second.”

Without really thinking about it, she’s does as she’s told, sinking down to step on the step beside him, ensuring that there’s a healthy few inches between them.

Iwaizumi pockets his phone and squishes the cherried tip of his cigarette out against the concrete beneath him. “Get my text?” he asks, voice easy.

“Yeah,” she answers, eyes not on him but on the smoking pile of ash he had just created. “’M not busy tonight.”

He grins, bright and bold and any trace of irritation has melted away. “Good. I wanna take you for a drive.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi’s car sucks. For as well-kept as it is, its age shines through. It is old and deteriorating and occasionally it makes a noise that sounds like it needs immediate addressing. She’s not sure why she was expecting anything different. He lives in the same cheap apartment building as her, and people who live in apartment buildings like that do not drive luxury cars. Or even just okay cars. People who live in apartments like that are lucky to have any car.

It must not be as profitable as she thought, all the trafficking.

He has the window rolled down as he drives. The wind isn’t too bad, and the spring air is pleasantly wet and warm. It smells fresh, and it washes out the smell of nicotine that has settled into the fabric of the car seats.

Pretty blatantly, she’s looking at Iwaizumi. He is looking at the road, and she is looking at him. The veins in his neck and how they connect to his sharp jaw. The slant of his nose and the shape of his profile. His hair, spiky and slightly messy from the way the wind runs through it. Dusk has settled but the streetlights cut through it and highlight the sharpness of his features. The shadows deepen his bruises.

Everything about Iwaizumi is sharp. From the look in his eyes and the way words fall from his mouth. It’s sort of intimidating, in a way. Or it should be. It must be, to others. She finds it almost sort of endearing, the way he’s all prickly edges, even when he smiles.

His eyes flick over to her, and then back towards the road, a soft pink lightly dusting his cheeks. “You starin’ at me?” he asks, corner of his lip tugging upwards.

She lets her gaze fall back down to her lap. “You’re pretty,” she admits to him, crossing her arms over her chest and settling back further into the seat. She means it, but she doesn’t know why she says it. It comes out without any thought, like there’s nothing there to filter her thoughts out of her tongue.

Iwaizumi laughs. The roads are getting narrower the further he takes them from the densely populated area of the city in which they reside. She doesn’t know where he’s taking her. She didn’t bother to ask. “Y’know, I thought you were shy at first. But you just say whatever you want.”

She can’t help but flinch. Shy. Her father always called her that. Maybe Iwaizumi didn’t mean to be an insult but that’s the only way she’s ever heard it. Shyness was just one of the many faults in her that her father was eager to correct. “I’m not shy,” she asserts. “I just don’t talk unless I feel like there’s something I need to say.”

It’s partially true, at least (and the reason she’s so horrific at any and all small talk). That explanation conveniently leaves out the fact that she’s never really had anyone to say anything to.

Iwaizumi looks at her over his shoulder, tearing his attention off of the road in front of him for just a second to flash her a smug sort of grin. “And you felt the need to tell me I’m pretty?”

“You are,” she shrugs. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, she figures, but the way he keeps turning to look at her like he just can’t help it makes her gut feel upended. “Nothing wrong with pointing it out.”

Iwaizumi hums, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the top of his thigh, fingers tapping against the denim of his jeans. “Nah,” he agrees. “You can point it out as much as you’d like.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi brings her to a grassy riverbank under a bridge. It’s dark, and the streetlights are flickering. Cars only pass over the bridge every five minutes or so. If he was going to kill her, it’d be here. She doesn’t think he’s going to, but she still has the thought.

She sits on the slightly damp grass, knees pulled up to her chest and watching the slow flow of the river. It’s so loud, where she lives. She never really realized it until now, surrounded by the absence of noise. It’s just the soft, trickling of water and the buzz of hidden insects.

The town that hugs the river is small, and it makes her feel small, to be there. The air feels fresher here, by the river. The smell of it is familiar. It’s like her brother. She inhales deeply, and lets the air fill up her lungs.

He sits beside her, Iwaizumi, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees. Iwaizumi’s hunched forward, staring at the same flow of water as her. “I come out here sometimes when I miss home,” he tells her. “It’s not exactly the same, but it’s enough to remind me.”

Her fingers tangle in the grass below her, and she carefully and slowly uproots it. Iwaizumi drives an hour to find a small, isolated spot that reminds him, even a little, of his home. She sees her home in everything, like a kind of curse she can’t escape. She chews on the inside of her cheek. It seems cruel. “I don’t like being reminded of home,” she confesses, rolling the ripped-up grass between her fingers.

Iwaizumi studies the side of her face. “Where’d you grow up?” he asks.

“Nowhere special,” she shrugs. “Just your average suburb. You find one just like it every twenty minutes.”

“What was so awful about it?” he questions, not looking away from her.

Her tongue twists in her mouth, and she tilts her head back to look up at the dark, empty sky. “My dad,” she answers eventually, voice level. Her head rolls back forward, and her hands knot together under her knees. “He was sort of an asshole.”

“Ah, one of those.”

“Yeah, one of those.”

“Me too.”

She sighs, feeling a bit fidgety. She adjusts the way she sits and then does it again and then does it again until she’s mimicking Iwaizumi’s position. “Why’d you bring me out here?” she asks.

“I dunno. I like it here,” he says. “And I like you. Made sense to me.”

His words put some kind of contracting pressure on her chest and it makes her want to squeeze into a tight ball, becoming smaller. Iwaizumi won’t stop looking at her and it’s not really helping, exactly. “Yeah, I don’t really get that.”

“Get what?”

“You liking me,” she explains. “I know that you do. I don’t get why.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I want to.”

Between them, a cricket buzzes. A car passes on the bridge above them, headlights casting a light over them. She turns to look at Iwaizumi and sees him already looking at her, his stare fixed and intense and she likes the way he looks at her. She wonders what he sees when she looks at him under the illumination of the headlights.

She nods. “Okay.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

She’s surprised the first time she sees Iwaizumi’s apartment. She’s not sure why she expected to see something different than her own, but it’s pretty much exactly the same place. Except it’s not an absolute fucking shithole, like hers is.

She’s noticed a certain pride with the way Iwaizumi is, how he does things, the way things are upkept. If things are old and deteriorating, he breathes new life into them, takes care of them, makes them as like new as possible. He cares for his space. He keeps it neat. He maintains.

He’s different from her, in that way. She’s content to just let everything rot away around her.

The shiny, metal pot on his stovetop boils and steams, rattling the lid that covers it. She bites down on her lip. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Iwaizumi stands with his back to her in front of the stove. He’s got a wooden spoon in one hand and the other is apprehensively poking at a smoking pan with (likely burnt) chicken. “Yeah,” he tells her without looking back at her. “I’m a great cook.”

Forty minutes later, they’re seated at his couch, coffee table pulled up close, an open box of pizza between the two of them. She has a slice pinched between her fingers, and a napkin bunched up in her hand to catch the drops of grease that drip out of it.

“Don’t feel too bad,” she says, teeth ripping into her slice, eyes on his television as Death Note plays. He gets better cable than her. “”S probably better. I’m not convinced I would’ve been impressed by your cooking,” she teases lightly.

Iwaizumi nudges his elbow into her side. “Yeah? And who says I was trying to impress you?”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Were you?”

Before he can answer, his phone rings. A generic, loud, irritating ringtone that demands attention. Iwaizumi groans and pulls a phone out of his back pocket. It’s not a phone she’s ever seen before. It’s not the one he texts her from, not the one he uses on their front steps. His brow furrows. “I’m sorry,” he says to her, “I gotta take this.”

He stands then, going all the way around his coffee table and straight out the door. She sits there dumbly, staring after him, pizza falling limp in her hand.

It was easy to forget. The more time she spent with him, the more she forgot. His odd behaviors and unusual habits were easy to lose track of, the more she knew him. She’s not to bothered by his abrupt walk-out; she figures it’s good to have the reminder, every now and then, of what exactly it is that he does.

Not that it bothers her, really. But it does make her nervous. The more she knows him, the more his bruises work their way under her skin.

When her mother left her father, she was young. Too young to remember the details of her face or the way her voice sounded. When she thinks of her mother, all she can imagine is a blurred, distorted face that eventually morphs and twists back into her father’s. She can remember, though, what she said when she left. Spat out viciously as she threw wrinkled clothes and wadded piles of cash into whatever loose bags she could find.

“Men like your father, they only care about one thing. And it’s not you and it’s not me.”

She wonders, just briefly, what else Iwaizumi and her father might have in common.

By the time he returns, she’s abandoned the dinner before her and has curled into the furthest corner of the couch, gaze fixed on the screen in front of her but not paying it any real attention at all. Her eyes follow Iwaizumi as he returns to sit beside her. “Sorry about that,” he says. “Just work stuff.”

She shrugs. “Don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

The pros and cons of Iwaizumi Hajime.

She invested in a diary.

Okay.

She stole a diary.

It’s not her first choice in journal: it’s not even a little discreet, a bright pink, fuzzy leopard print that practically begs to be investigated. But it was the first one she could grab and stuff into her bag without being noticed. And at least it came with this glittery little gel pen that she’s writing with now. She taps it against the page now as she leans against the counter of the Higurashi CD Store.

This is her first entry.

Pros: don’t have to worry about what I say around him, easy to talk to, I like the way I feel when I’m around him, I like his smile and his laugh, treats me like a person, respectful, intriguing, pretty (like, really fucking pretty), nice arms, sweet to me

Cons: that thing that I actually cannot write down on paper, reminded me of my dad that one time

She bites down on the end of the glitter pen. She feels like a fucking twelve-year-old.

Iwaizumi brought her something simple this morning: medium roast with just a bit of cream and even less sugar. It’s room temperature now but she keeps it beside her, non-dominate hand wrapped around it and taking small sips of it every few minutes. She wanted to savor it, today, take her time with it. She removes the pen from her lips and takes another swig.

It’s been hard for her to think of anything but Iwaizumi lately. He’s the first person she talks to in the morning and the last person she sees before she goes to sleep. And on the nights were he’s too preoccupied to make an appearance, he sends her a text.

(Her personal favorites include things along the lines of: ‘sorry i can’t see u tonite, thinking abt u,’ and ‘what r u doing tonite? wtv it is i wish i was doing it w u instead of working’)

Even if she did have something else going on in her life (and she absolutely does not), she can’t imagine being able to focus on anything ever again that’s not him. The thought of him is pretty much all-consuming. And currently, she’s having a hard time deciding if that should be filed under the ‘pro’ or ‘con’ category.

Her hand moves towards the ‘pro’ section, and with slightly shaking hands, she writes out: I really want him to kiss me.

But when she looks down on the words on the page, it makes her cheeks heat up painfully. She’s quick to scribbled it out so harshly the pen leaves indentations on the next several pages.

A bell rings. Her head shoots up, and she sees someone step through the front door. Looks like another bored university student, with the same façade of disinterest and the general aura of I am way too good for everything around me that the rest of them have.

Still, she shuts her journal closed and shoves it under the counter, the atrocious fuzzy fabric completely hidden from sight. She opts in to watch the customer instead.

He seems to know exactly what he’s here for. Either that or he walks up to the first display he can find and grabs the closest CD to him, and then he’s making his way towards her. She studies him and his flat black hair and his bored expression and watches as he places the CD on the counter in front of her and slides it towards her. “I’d like to buy this, please.”

PCD by The Pussycat Dolls. She wouldn’t have pegged him for the type, but it’s not like it’s any of her business.

“Sure,” she remarks, a lingering heat still on her cheeks, hoping that it’s not noticeable enough to detract from her reputation as the stoic bitch who’s mean to you at the checkout. She scans the CD, and reads out the price in a flat, monotonous voice.

He pulls out his wallet. Black leather, which suits him more than PCD does. He pulls out a slim, red card and hands it to her. She looks at the name before she swipes it. Kageyama Tobio.

“You look familiar,” he says as she slides the card through the register, and she turns to give him a raised eyebrow. “I think I know you.”

The machine’s taking its sweet time, processing the payment. She taps her fingers against the counter, impatient. “Unlikely,” is her simply reply.

He shakes his head. “You’re Iwaizumi’s neighbor, aren’t you?” he presses. “Iwaizumi Hajime?”

She doesn’t like the question. She doesn’t like that she hasn’t seen him before and he’s right. The payment goes through, and her expression remains the same. “I dunno, maybe,” she says, and slides the CD into a thin plastic bag. “I don’t really know any of my neighbors. Want a receipt?”

Cardholder Kageyama Tobio eyes her carefully, like he’s waiting for a crack, of some sort. She stares blankly, waiting for a response. “No, thanks,” he says eventually, and then turns on his heel. “Have a good one.”

She stares after him long after he’s gone. She resolves to tell Iwaizumi about it, after her shift is over. But when she gets home, he’s not on the step, like he always is.

She decides not to read too much into it.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

When she was ten, school uniform covered in dirt and eye blackened, her father put a baseball bat in her hands. “You don’t let people disrespect you,” he told her, each word sharp. She flinched, small hands going tighter around the bat. “You make sure people know not to push you around. You protect yourself, cause no one else is going to, kid. And you,” he had said, turning to point a finger at her older brother. “What were you doing while these assholes were picking on your sister, huh? Just sitting there watching?”

There were tears in her eyes she was trying very hard to contain. She couldn’t see her brother’s expression as he spoke. “I’m in a different class,” he had defended. “I wasn’t even around when it happened.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no reason I didn’t get a call from your teacher telling me you beat the crap outta the kids that did this to her. You’re her brother, it’s your one job,” their father insisted, and then turned his attention back over to his youngest. “You, go out there and don’t come back until the shits that did that to your face are sorry.”

“I don’t wanna,” she had protested, quiet and meek, the things her father hated most about her. She didn’t lift her head. She didn’t look him in the eye.

There was a light shove to her shoulder. She stumbled backwards. “I don’t give a shit what you want, kid. Go out there and make them regret it.”

He was true to his word, at least, and did not let her back inside the house until she made them regret it.

When she was twelve, she started tending to her brother’s wounds.

He got them from a lot of things. Fights at school, fights after school, fights with their father. Each time he came out worse than before, lip busted, eye bruised shut, nose cracked and shifted.

She would pull up first aid videos on their home computer and make her brother sit in silence, ice pack pressed to his face, while she watched attentively, scribbling down notes for reference whenever the video buffered.

Over time, skills like cleaning wounds and snapping a nose back into place and, in extreme cases, weaving thread in between deep cuts with the sharpest needle she could find (thus creating the world’s shoddiest stitches).

Each time she did so, her brother would groan and hiss and snap at her in pain, cursing whenever her hand closed around his bent cartilage or poked the needle through his skin. “Stop complaining,” she would whisper on the floor of his bedroom. “It’s not as good as a real doctor but it’s better than nothing.”

When she was fifteen, she got kicked out of school.

It was the end of a long string of incidents: ditching classes, smoking on campus, and backtalking teachers were some of her more minor offenses. In her first year of high school, she was unable to go one month straight without getting into trouble (problem #6: rage issues, kind of a chronic thing for her). She was quiet, alone a lot of the time, and pretty much disliked by all of her teachers. It kinda made her seem like an easy target for someone to take their frustrations out on.

She can’t remember her name. The girl’s. She tries sometimes, whenever she thinks about it. But there’s just a blank space in her memory where the girl’s name used to be-can’t even really remember her face. The color of her eyes or the way she wore her hair. She just remembers, on day three of a dedicated, concentrated effort to get under her skin, she just snapped.

The insults were scathing, but they weren’t the worst thing she had ever heard. Just persistent and annoying. She can’t even remember exactly what it was that sent her over the edge. But as her classmate loomed over her desk, laughing and teasing, something inside of her chest burned up, and she stood, whipping the back of her hand across the girl’s cheek.

Her father had screamed at the vice principal, after the fact. He yelled so loudly and for so long that the police were almost called on him. (Fat load of good that would’ve done them). He told them that he was gonna pull his daughter out of that school, because he couldn’t fathom her being educated at an institution that did not allow her to defend herself.

It didn’t really matter, at that point, though. She was already expelled.

Her whole life has kind of been defined by violence, in one way or another. It’s been consistently pushed on her as an end all, be all type of solution. Something that, if you’re good enough at it, it can fix any issue that might pop up. It’s something that she’s always had to cope with, whether that be through dubious first aid methods or dealing with the blood elicited from her own hands.

She’s just sort of used to it, at this point. So when she is awoken in the middle of the night by the continuous ringing of her phone, to hear Iwaizumi’s voice on the other line say, “How good with first aid are you?” she’s not rattled.

Her answer is a confident and sleep-filled, “Pretty good.”

Still, she wasn’t really anticipating a full-on stab wound.

Matsukawa Issei was formally introduced to her as he lay bleeding out Iwaizumi’s couch, half-conscious and a little delirious from the pain. His eyes keep fluttering open and shut. She presses a dish rag against the bare skin of his shoulder, applying as much pressure as she can and thanking whatever named deity she can think of that it’s his shoulder and not his gut.

It’s chaos, and she feels underprepared. Iwaizumi is pacing, hands stained red, and yelling into the receiver of his phone, rage barely contained. There is also the familiar figure of Oikawa, who is kneeled by Matsukawa’s side, saying any and everything he can think of to keep him awake. And then there’s Makki, the one who is freest of blood stains, standing in the middle of the living room, frozen in panic.

He’ll have to do.

“You, Makki,” she barks, and he snaps his head in her direction, eyes wide and waiting for instruction. “Go to the closest convenience store and buy antibiotic ointment and as many bandages as you can. Okay?”

He nods, and without wasting a second on a response, he’s running past Iwaizumi and out the door.

The blood is soaking into the rag, rapidly. She doesn’t know enough to fix everything so neatly. She presses down harder. She did everything she remembered to do. Elevate the wound. Apply pressure. Do not stop applying pressure. Apply more pressure.

She needs the bleeding to stop a little before she can clean it and stitch it and wrap it. She presses down harder, and bites down on his lip. The little white box with the red cross she had brought sits open on the coffee table, too poorly stocked to be of any use.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath, hovering over Matsukawa. The rag’s stopped absorbing the blood. “Fuck. Iwaizumi! I need another towel!”

She watches him move from the corner of her eye, phone still pressed against his ear as he steps into the bathroom for a second and returns with a heavy, black towel in his hand. He brings it over to her, saying cool into the receiver of his phone, “Tell him he’s fucking dead,” before he slams it shut.

Iwaizumi hovers for a second, rage still marring the details of his face. Though it does become slightly diluted by the horror that drains his skin of any color. “You need to press that against his wound,” she instructs. “I can’t take pressure off it for even a second right now, so you need hold it down.”

Sort of mechanically, he nods. She can’t help but notice the way his hands shake as he lowers the towel down over the wound, bunching and bundling it up. He holds in firmly in place over her hands. “Like this?”

“Press down harder,” she instructs. “Harder than you think you’d have to.”

Iwaizumi does as he’s told and leans more of his weight against the wound. Matsukawa groans, pain slipping out of his lips. “I know, I’m sorry man,” Iwaizumi says, leaning down harder. “I’m sorry.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

When the dust settles, she runs her hands under the hot water of her skin for five minutes. It doesn’t matter how much she scrubs at the skin of her hands with soap and the harsh edge of her fingernails. The faint blood stains don’t go away.

Iwaizumi’s exactly where she thought he would be, out on the front steps of their building, smoking a cigarette. She lights one of her own as she takes a seat behind him. The concrete is cool beneath her, and the tips of her fingers are appreciative of the warmth emitting from her lighter. Iwaizumi doesn’t look at her. He’s too fixed on the ground in front of him.

“I’m not a doctor or anything but, I think he’ll be okay,” she tells him, inhaling a puff of smoke. “Just have to makes sure it doesn’t get infected. Wash it a couple times a day, keep an eye on the stitches. I did okay with those, so.”

“I’m sorry I called you,” Iwaizumi says, head hung. There’s a roughness in his voice, an almost trembling as he speaks.

“Why would you be sorry?” she asks, inching closer to him. “Your friend needed help.”

Iwaizumi laughs wryly and lifts his head. His eyes are wet but not watering. “You know, you play dumb a little too well. It gets me, sometimes,” he tells her, eyes tracing along the details of her face. He feels close. She flicks the end of her cigarette, so she has something to do with her hands. “But I know you know. And I’m sorry to get you involved. I know you didn’t want to be.”

Maybe there was some sort of wishful thinking on his part. Her part too. But it’s hard to live two separate lives. It’s hard to be two different people. She’s always sort of known this, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“I’ve been involved in worse things,” she remarks, and ignores the look of doubt he throws in her direction. “If you need help with that kind of thing, you can call me, okay? Don’t worry about that.”

Iwaizumi stares. She stares back and holds her breath. He feels so close. “You know,” he whispers, “I think you really might be too good for me.”

She smiles at him, and acknowledges that she’s fucked. She’s caught up in it.

an: pacing is so off lmafo but i’m still kind of obsessed with this. also full disclosure i barely proof read this i think that even if i did i would still miss every single mistake bc for some reason i can only catch them after i post

if you end up enjoying, please leave a like, rb, comment or ask <3

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @michivrse @causenessus @cannibalsrider @cherrypieyourface @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @kettlepop (complete form linked above to be added)

[prettyboykatsuki]

how surprising ur response doesn’t address the issue at all!!!! i would love for u to go off on me because it’s easy for me to win a disagreement when i know i’m right lmao and also i KNOW 100% for a fact that countless people would agree w me but it’s not reaching the correct audience w a sane mindset cuz all ur followers are 🌽 addicts too thinking the same shit as u and pitying and comforting ur ass in ur replies🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️shits cringe to watch but anyway every normal person knows it’s weird and that’s all the matters i suppose cuz post that shit literally anywhere else and your ass WILL get dragged

maybe let’s try a one month no 🌽 challenge and try again! maybe ur mind will detox and you’ll realize ur fucking weird

i didn't respond to your ask with any dignity because the original premise of your ask was not worthy of being dignified with time nor attention.

ive gotten tens of asks of people who also want to hold moral superiority over me by regurgitating opinions they've adopted from their online internet circles without any real nuance and thus i have no reason to take it seriously. you are not the first person to try to peddle this to me and there is nothing about your ask that warrants any of my thoughtful consideration.

i normally wouldn't bother with correcting this one either, but because im already in a deeply irritable mood - sure, i will give you the response you are asking for, starting with the post you are criticizing.

firstly, you're incorrectly reading my post. you intentionally misrepresent my post with your wording and also the sort of joke i was making by implying "memed about waiting for the age of consent" so i can indulge my porn addiction."

im going to disregard your application of harmful real world rhetoric to what is essentially fiction and go along with the idea that fictional characters are in anyway effected by my posting.

the main issue is fundamentally that you are misreading it. i know you are because i am the original poster and the author of this post - which means i can directly tell you that the point of this post is ironic.

it is poking fun at the people who have accused me of pedophilia for aging up a fictional character for years because he is now, in canon, an adult.

the irony of that is that i was doing what horikoshi was when writing my fics. the people who treated my aging up as invalid simply because horikoshi is the author are no longer able to wield it against me. the author has no confirmed his adulthood, which makes that argument moot.

your argument is that i was in some way making a joking about having waited for izuku to reach adulthood in order to sexualize him. this is blantantly incorrect and a misreading of the post in general. that is not something you can counter because if you've spent any time on my blog at all - it would be very clear i was already aging up and sexualizing characters on my own whims.

both posts for better viewing.

the other thing you spout off about is porn addiction. this is the main reason i didn't find any reason to take your points seriously. if you knew, researched, or understood any of the points you've borrowed from your peers on tiktok - you would know why porn addiction is not a term you can apply to erotica.

in the first place, there is no universally understood diagnostic criteria for porn addiction. there are other forms of research related to how porn interferes with cis-heterosexual partnerships and the quality of sex life and some affiliation with watching porn as a compulsive behavior - but neither of these things qualify as addiction.

pornography is a highly politicized topic because our society is structured upon old school protestant christian beliefs and puritanism. but pornography and sexually explicit materal is a difficult thing to quantify in usage. it is culturally ubiquitous and has several nuances in relation to its use. it is near impossibly to quantify sexual behavior because it is a normal, human urge like hunger or thirst whether or not you choose to believe that.

here are three articles making points about the claims around porn addiction from reliable sources that you're welcome to point out.

one | two | three

as i keep repeating - addiction is a specific line of behavior and being frank, it's rather insulting you think i suffer from a porn addiction given i used to do actual drugs and suffered from real life addictions lmao.

but if you want to use other addiction diagnostic critera in this argument. my posting on silly erotica tumblr does not

interfere with my daily life or relationships

negatively affect my performance in school or at work

cause me to withdraw from social situations

lose interest in my other hobbies and activies that improve quality of life.

none of the above applies to me. but im guessing you don't have any actual concern.

it's very clear to me and everyone else that your peddling of this term has nothing to do with whether or not i actually have the addiction - and everything to do with you attempting to moralize my behavior to an audience and boost up your own points.

if i really did have a porn addiction, implying i had an addiction - you are implying that this is something i should be ashamed of just as you are implying my fellow porn addicts should also be ashamed.

you see addiction as a point of shame and not a disease and don't show any actual empathy which makes you a morally bankrupt human being in my subjective view. you don't have any actual arguments about how this might effect my behavior or character. only that addiction (a thing people can't control) is bad, that i am bad for watching porn and being addicted to it.

neither of these are provable as you do not know me.

instead your attempt to find fault is to arm yourself with puritan talking points and internet tiktok buzzword language and make your clauses have some kind of ground or validity. it is trite and frankly embarrassing watching you come into my inbox with such confidence that you would be able to argue with me critically and meaningfully.

the last thing i will address is your point about this not being a popular opinion.

you are under the impression im not aware of this and that this is not a choice i've made deliberately so i will be kindly blunt.

i, unlike you, have formed these opinions with my own critical understanding of culture, sociology, psychology, and politics by researching and reading from people who study these things with more expertise than me.

these opinions are formed by my own discretion and worldview. they are unpopular opinions.

unlike you, my peers are not decided by my moral parading. rather, im frank and upfront with those world views and have formed a circle that agrees with them.

i do not need your validation nor the validation of people online to confirm whether or not im a good person. the reason people agree with me is not pity, but because they too have formed their own opinions and ours happen to allign.

you think this is pitying behavior because the people you choose to align with would cast you out for showing even a breadth of disagreement or critique. you have not fostered a space for intelligent conversation because you can't see disagreement without accusing someone of this or that.

you are all the same and you are all equally confident in your hivemind opinions. i applaud your audacity and admire your confidence in your own ability to argue something you've barely formed your own conscious thought about.

i dont need to detox anything and i dont care about being weird. i also, really don't care about you or your opinions.

you are unoriginal and boring, a pest of the highest pedigree and i don't find you intimidating. your inability to receive validation from your own moral character will doom you to shame and guilt for as long as you allow and thats much more punishment than i could ever dole out to you

have a good day pookie 🫂🫂