#i didn’t care when someone called me ma’am after the movie

[1smolbean]

barbie (2023) has genuinely done so much for my confidence its unreal

[dem-obscure-imagines]

For the Longest Time

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve was visited by his soulmate, a girl from the future who already knew him. Decades later, after waking up in a brave new world, Steve meets his soulmate again, except she hasn’t met him yet. And she won’t travel to 1943—or know he’s her soulmate—for another year.

Note: This is a continuation/prequel/whatever you wanna call it to A Long, Long Time, a Steve Soulmate AU I wrote a while back. Long story short, I watched Knives Out again and got Steve Rogers brainrot. Happens to the best of us. I might write a third part if there’s interest…

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2.2k

Reader Is: Steve’s Soulmate, Super-Powered, Female

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize that right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the mall.

By some stroke of fate, it happened to be the day a pyromaniac with a flamethrower was there, but before he could even spring into action, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the teenage movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands, giving Steve the opportunity to step in and apprehend the guy.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead from the shattered glass of the skylight. The paramedics were taking care of the civilians, and Steve wandered right over, impressed.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“But, yeah, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was those words that sealed your fate. Three days later, someone from Stark Industries got in contact with you and before you knew it, you were on a plane to the Avengers’ remote facility in Upstate New York with a bag full of clothes, a handful of books, and a dream. You met the others, Wanda, Natasha, Bruce. Eventually Bucky came into the mix, too, Steve’s friend from before the ice who…had a staring problem, you were pretty sure. He kept looking at you, seemingly bewildered you were there.

You never did figure out why.

After a particularly tricky mission in rural Kentucky, you had landed yourself in the infirmary, taking a pretty long nap complete with an IV and a heartrate monitor.

It was Nat that found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. It was the one secret he still had: you were his soulmate and wouldn’t know it for another six months. Your name had been etched onto his wrist for seventy years, through the transformation, through the ice, through everything.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

That was her super power, he remembered. She was a human lie detector.

“I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. “Well do you need any help with that? I can get some information out of her. I’ll be super subtle, I promise.”

“I don’t know. She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed. “Well, I guess if she says anything, let me know. It’s kind of a relief someone else knows.”

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. Six more months. That’s nothing.”

“Yeah.” Steve gazed longingly through the window. “I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, heart strings pulled as tight as they’d ever been. Her best friend was in love and there was almost nothing he could do about it.

***

Three months later, you, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Nat got snowed in on a mission in Alaska. The little cabin you’d been sent to was unreachable by any of the jets the team could send and besides, it wasn’t worth the risk of Clint or someone getting stuck out there in this.

But despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, all wrapped up for the night.

Steve watched you, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He chuckled and shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state.

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee, giving him some caffeine for his night watch.

Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were aggressively encouraging him to go over to you, and gave in.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold?”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise.”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little.

His heart raced. This was going better than he thought. “Here, um…” He raised the blanket on top of you and wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back at home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin.”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

The drowsiness took over almost immediately, his warmth lulling you to sleep after a long day undercover out in the snow. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

But once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again.

***

“You thought today was her birthday???” Natasha asked, incredulous in the kitchen.

“I got nervous!” Steve defended. “I saw it on her whiteboard in front of her door and I thought—”

“I think Scott wrote that the last time he was here. He keeps track of all of that.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Steve replied, shaking his head. “Well, does she have any birthday plans?”

“Yeah, Wanda and I are taking her out shopping this afternoon. Tony gave her his card. And then the party tomorrow night.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, good. That buys me some time.”

“You got a plan?”

“I’ve had a plan.” Steve admitted. “Been sitting on it for about seventy years, in fact.”

***

You got out of bed, got dressed, and headed to the mall with Natasha and Wanda. The same mall, in fact, that you and Steve had met in the first place.

“Where was it?” Wanda asked, wearing a very fashionable pair of shades.

“Right over there.” You pointed to the spot in front of the movie theater, up on the second floor of the mall. “Guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He’s in jail now.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get when you dream of arson.” Nat said, causing you and Wanda to laugh.

You shopped around for clothes, got some pretzels at the Wetzels, and window shopped. You already had what you were pretty sure you were going to wear the following night. It wasn’t every day one of the Avengers turned twenty five and met their soulmate. Tony was determined to make it a spectacle. He had a habit of doing that, it seemed.

In the food court, you seemed kind of down, chin resting against your fist. Wanda picked up on it first.

“It will all be okay, (Y/N). There is nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I know, I just…I don’t know. I’m stressed about it. Tomorrow I get the answer to the question I’ve been asking for twenty-five years. I just can’t believe it’s almost here. And…I don’t know, there’s just a lot of variables. What if they don’t like me?”

“Come on, (Y/N), what’s not to like?” Natasha said, digging her spoon into her blizzard from the Dairy Queen.

“I don’t know…It’s just a lot to think about.” You said, leaving it at that. You didn’t know how to begin to explain to them that you had feelings for someone already, one of your coworkers no less, and someone who already had a soulmate, despite the fact that he’d lost her nearly a century before.

You wondered why Steve never looked for her. Or maybe she’d passed before he even resurfaced. It was sad. A guy like that didn’t deserve the heartbreak. He deserved to be loved.

The three of you finished your shopping trip and then returned to the Facility, where you unpacked the new odds and ends you’d acquired. Steve checked on you again, offering you words of wisdom, a comforting hug. He promised that your soulmate would love you, whoever they were.

Little did you know, he already did.

[k9iriz]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 (𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚’𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞)

𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘺𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴 ; 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘪𝘣 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳

𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 1/5

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦

ever thought you had a reminder of your past? like a constant itching feeling you had something watching you every night?

you moving away from texas to flordia was the best thing, but it was a pain in the chest due to you being a single mom of a 10 year old.

it was hard to get him a perfect tutor. or anybody to babysit him when you did go to work for long nights.

after freshly moving in, you just had divorced your longtime high school sweetheart girlfriend, soonly mentally slapping yourself for being this financially stuck, but felt bad because your son was being neglected.

“im coming!” you yelled as you ram at the door, before being stopped in your tracks while opening it, a tall black haired woman stood at your door with your flyer, blinking in and out of your intrusive thoughts.

“my god…” you thought quietly to yourself.

“uh? i saw your poster down at the library for tutor and babysitter position? im actually a college student who’s looking for a side job.” the woman explained.

smiling happy that someone seen it right away, you stepped aside letting her in. “oh yes! come in!” you greeted, as the two walked into the dining room, sitting down at the table.

you couldn’t keep your eyes off of hee nonetheless, she looked like a mature young woman who knew what she was doing.

“um, yes! so what do you do on your free time?” i asked, looking up at the woman, taking in her features.

“study. i do like these tutoring classes for my classmates since im valedictorian, but my dorm fees have been stacking up. so i need a side job, which is what made me look at your poster, oh im demi by the way. call me rhea.” the woman smiled.

nice name…

“well, you don’t seem like a bad person. but are you good with kids?” y/n asked, grabbing her cellphone before looking at her records.

“very. i got siblings so i have to take care of them. it’s natural.” rhea nodded, smiling widely, showing her piercings that rested inside of her mouth.

“my private area has a heartbeat…” you thought, biting the inside of your mouth.

“he’s a 10 year old in the 3rd grade, he needs help in his math. he struggles a lot and without me here to help him, he’s not gonna pass. so you came just in time.” y/n explained, before taking a big breath of relief that she didn’t have to wait that long for a tutor to come by.

“i could help him out, im a math genius. i have a perfect semester grade in math.” rhea nodded.

“perfect! when can you start?” y/n smiled, before sitting up, everything checking out good.

“whenever you need me to ma’am.” rhea smiled at her efforts into getting a job.

“how about tonight?”

[ 𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝟔𝐭𝐡, 𝐁𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐀, 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀 ]

“alright bub. rhea is downstairs making you dinner. ill be home in the morning, okay?” y/n soothes her son before he smiled, running to hug her tight.

“okay! me and rhea are gonna have so much fun! we’re gonna watch the new mario movie!” y/s/n smiled, before rhea came up from behind me, leaning against the doorframe.

“im gonna miss him, he’s gonna go with his grandparents for a vacation.” y/n sighed, as rhea stood next to her.

“you still need someone to watch the house for you? or until his grandparents get em?” rhea looked at me up and down.

sometimes i get nervous when she does that. even though she’s been working here for almost a month, it’s not a day that does by where i get nervous by her.

her grandmother moved next door that she knew of so to kill the road and gas money usage, she stayed there with him and helped from time to time.

“yeah, i should be back by 12 since they need me for three hours and not the whole entire night.” y/n nodded before rhea and y/s/n ran downstairs, watching a movie.

she felt like she picked the right person to take care of her son and he sure did feel safe around her, felt like his second mom.

late that night….

y/n sped walked to her porch before opening the door, locking it before meeting darkness, but a light beamed in the kitchen.

“hey! he’s gone?” y/n whispered as rhea chuckled, smiling as she put the top over the pot, leaning against the counter.

“yeah. they got him a hour ago. sit down i made something to eat.” rhea suggested as y/n took the chance, soonly sitting down along with her.

“thank you. im so fucking beat from that shift and it was for only three hours.” y/n breathed out, before sitting her work bag besides her, feeling someone occupy the space.

“i can tell. that’s how my classes are. but, i meant to ask, are you married of some sort? this house is big enough for a married couple and a couple of kids.” rhea asked, feeling embarrassed for even asking, just laughing.

“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. divorced. married to my wife for three years and we had a son. we haven’t talked since then. she doesn’t wanna talk to us. i guess.” y/n frowned, sighing afterwards.

rhea got mad on the inside. who would want to divorce a woman like her? she was nice, beautiful, caring…even attracted to her.

and rhea found that out? she was already ready to make her move.

y/n poured some wine in her cup before sitting back next to her, moving closer.

they were a little tipsy, you can say.

“well…i wouldn’t want to be her. id be happy to take her place.” rhea jokingly requested as y/n laughed along, but rhea wasn’t joking, least to her.

“i would let you but, you’re way too young for me.” y/n felt herself getting tipsy, before getting up to walk to the living room, but soonly being stopped by rhea.

“since when did age stop you from fucking who you wanna fuck? hm?” rhea towered y/n, as her hands sat above her head. she was practically very tipsy.

y/n couldn’t take the heat of it all, she was practically just…falling into it & she loved every second of it.

“hm?” rhea muttered before softly kissing her lips, something you’ve been missing for awhile now.

“r-rhea…” y/n muttered before she softly began to kiss along her face to her ear, before she began sucking her earlobe, making y/n moan lightly.

everything felt so right and so damn good in that moment that she didn’t wanna stop.

everything flew out the window in that instant.

“give me one night. let me just…make you forget about her. just watch.” rhea whispered along her neck before picking her up, making y/n gasp.

“okay…but h-how?” y/n asked brainlessly before she threw her on the bed, slapping her thigh in a demanding order.

“take your panties off and let me show you.” rhea grabbed her leg before trailing kisses on the inside of her legs, making y/n’s whole body shutter.

“shh.” she lastly spoke.

im back? :)

for those asking, im working on “unwanted temptation” and my request box is closed! but dm me if you want to request a rhea imagine!

part two is a sex scene so don’t worry, lol but this is a new series i wanted to start bc i watched “the boy next door” and was hella inspired.

kai signing out! <3 lmk how i did!

[eddiesgorlie]

ManEater, Pt.1

Austin!Elvis x Reader

Summary: Y/n, a movie star that was recognized for her roles as a young girl decides to switch it up and ends up drawing someone’s attention. (I think this would be a good series, what do you think?)

Warnings: Sexism in Hollywood, swearing and name calling.

Word count: 1,055

I intently looked into the mirror as the hair and makeup girls fixed me up for the Oscars. I had finally been nominated for my first award and I couldn’t be happier, after years of working extremely hard I am finally being respected in the industry-or so I thought. My short wavy hair sat right above my shoulders and my glam makeup made my eyes sparkle. My manager specifically requested I wear no lipstick to keep my “Innocent” role since I had just played young teenagers in my past roles. Once my hair and makeup was done, I put on my pink dress, with a petticoat underneath. I looked like a fucking cupcake. “Thank you girls, I have something I need to take care of.” I said as I left the room. I walked down to my managers office and threw the door open. “What the hell is this dress?” I yelled, my face red with anger. “Perfect, you look cute little one.” He said, looking up over his paper. “Cute? Little one? I’m not a child! I want out of this.” I screamed. He stood up and snapped his fingers at me. “Well maybe you should have thought it through before signing the contract. Now go be a good girl.” He yelled. “Fuck you, asshole!” I flipped him off and yelled as I walked out of the room.

“Girls, get the other dress please.” I had an idea my manager would pull something like this, so I always packed an appropriate dress with me. The dress was a black cocktail length sleeveless dress with a straight neckline and faux fur lining the hem. The girls helped me into the dress and handed me black heels. “Much better.” Margot sighed. “I can agree.” I said with a laugh. They were packing up the makeup when something caught my eye. “Margot, pass me the red lipstick please.” I said. “You sure about that?” She asked, knowing the rules. I nodded and she handed it over, I put an even, thick layer on and puckered my lips. “Lets go.” I said with a smile.

I got out of the limo at the venue and made my way down the red carpet, cameras flashing around me and reporters yelled questions. I walked towards the barricades to answer some questions. “Where’s the old Y/n?” The reporter asked. “Oh her? She’s gone on vacation.” I walked off. Once I finally made it inside, I walked down the stairs and answered some more questions. Thats when something, or should I say someone came to my attention, that someone was none other than the most famous man in the world, Elvis Presley. He was sharply dressed in a black tux and looked as handsome as ever, the part that caught my eye, were his eyes, staring right at me. “Thank you.” I told the reporter and slowly made my way father down the stairs. Elvis was being absolutely bombarded by reporters. “Good evening, Mr. Presley.” I said as I shook his hand. “G-good evening, ma’am. I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He said. “Y/n l/n.” I said. “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. l/n.” He said as he kissed my hand. “Ms.” I said. “I apologize, its very nice to meet you, Ms. l/n.” “I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Presley.” I said. I kissed the corner of his lips, and walked away, not looking back. All I could hear at this point were reporters screaming questions if Mr. Presley and myself were hollywoods new big couple. I ignored their questions and walked into the ballroom. Elvis was so kind to answer their never ending questions.

“I will now be announcing the award winner for Best Actress.” I watched as Bing Crosby struggled with the envelope, my nerves were shot and my palms were sweaty. “Thank you for your patience, ladies and gentleman. Our 1956 Best Actress award goes to….. Y/n L/n!” Bing announced into the microphone. I looked around as I noticed others looking at me. I won? How is that possible? There is absolutely no way I won. “Is a Ms. L/n in the audience?” Bing asked. I really did win. I quickly got out of my seat and walked up to the stage. “Thank you, Bing.” I said as I took the award. “Congratulations ma’am, if you’d like to say something, you are welcome to.” He said, motioning to the microphone. I politely nodded and took my place at the podium. I cleared my throat and began talking. “Thank you so much, I am so honored to receive this award.” I said. “We want the old Y/n!” A man angrily yelled. I looked for where the voice came from but continued my speech. “An award of this nature should be given to women that I’ve looked up to for years and it’s amazing that now young girls and women will be looking up to me, hopefully.” I said with a small laugh. “We don’t want our daughters looking up to whores!” A different voice yelled. I stepped back from the podium and made it back to my seat, putting my all into not crying. A whore? Is that what I am?

I watched as all of the amazing talented actors and actresses claimed their awards, hoping it would end soon so I could cry in the comfort of my bed. Minutes felt like hours, but finally the end came and I got out of their faster than anyone else. “Hey, hey wait!” A deep voice yelled. I kept walking. “Wait!” He yelled again. “What? Are you just going to call me a whore?” I spat back. “No, actually I wanted to congratulate you and ask you a question.” He said. “Thank you, what is your question, Mr. Presley?” I asked. “I- I was wondering if I could get your telephone number?” He asked nervously. Elvis Presley was nervous to ask me for my phone number. “Why would you want that?” I asked. “You’re beautiful and I’d love to get to know you.” He said. I nodded and tried to find a pen and paper in my bag but of course, he held them out to me. I quickly wrote my number down. “Have a great night, Mr. Presley.” I waved to him as I walked out of the building.

[iamofficiallymya]

|•Agony•|Billy Loomis

Summary: 1996 you had found out your boyfriend was a serial killer and you also found out you were pregnant with his baby when you had her you gave her to your older sister and she took her and promised to take care of her and then you basically isolated yourself from the world

Only being in touch with your sister you would usually get strange calls from people asking you “What’s your favorite scary movie” but the last call you got was some years after billy died

But here you are in New York City

———————————————————————

- Your currently making sure every window and door is locked properly when you get a phone call you answer it

“Hello?” You say in a slight annoyed type voice

“Hello this is Detective Bailey your a suspect in a crime that involves your niece im gonna need you to come down to the station”

“Samantha?”

“Yes ma’am”

“I’m on my way it’ll take awhile I’m all the way in woodsboro”

———————————————————————————————————

Your on your way to New York by car when you get a text message you pick your phone up staying focused on the road and you read the message “ring check come to this location[INSERT LOCATION]”

Okay?

Once you get there your confused and you text the police officer and they open the door telling you to come in quickly you walk in and you see 5 teens and 3 adults

you look around the room and you see one particular face Gale wethers

“Gale?” You say shocked

“Y/n long time no see”

“Don’t pull that shit you wrote about me in your book” you say aggravated

“It wasn’t to-“ Gale says as she got cut off by someone

“Who’s this” a women says

“This Y/n carpenter” detective Kirby said

“Hm? My mom never brought up a sister or any other sibling at that” - another women says this one looked like she was 18

“Y/n Sam and Tara you probably already know that” Kirby said introducing you

“Your our aunt?” Sam says confused

“I’m Tara’s aunt..” you say nervous as hell

“I’m your mom..” you just blurt out

Everybody’s quiet

“N-What?” Sam says

“Sam i know it’s a lot to explain and I know you won’t abandon the mother you’ve had your life for me I- it’s a lot I promise I can explain everything” you say

“But I f- huh?” Sam says

“Sam I just wanted what was best for you I didn’t want to put you through all of this I wanted to give you a better life after billy died I-everything got harder and worst people were so cruel and I just wanted you safe” you say trying to explain

“Non of this explains anything Y/n” Sam says clearly getting aggravated

“When I had you I gave you to Christina hoping she would give you a better life and she promised to take care of you I just wanted what was best for you” you say

“But the diaries I found-“ Sam says

“We’re mine” you finished “I couldn’t I- couldn’t let you be raised with me I was only 16 and I didn’t know what I was doing and I’m so sorry”

Sam was just quiet and in shock she felt like her whole life was a lie her sister wasn’t her sister but infact her cousin her “Mother” was her aunt

“I’m sorry I need space for a moment” y/n walks outside and leans on a wall

She thinks back to that night..

You were by the counter drinking a beer when your boyfriend billy hugged you from behind

“You okay beautiful?” He ask in a soft voice

“I’m not a big party person” You say smiling at him

“I know that’s why I brung you but it’s getting late you need to head home I’ll drive you”

he says wrapping his arms around her waist a little and pulling her close to him he was trying to get you to go home with a group of girls that were leaving earlier but you were to nervous to ask

“It’s okay Tatum was gonna drive me”

Billy looked confused and looked at Stu who was talking and hugging his girlfriend Tatum

“your not gonna stay the night?” Stu asked in a teasing voice to Tatum

“I’m coming back I was gonna go by Sydney’s house anyways she’s getting sick in the bathroom I was getting her a change of clothes” Tatum says

“Good I was gonna miss you” Stu say

“How about I come over to your house after I help out syd?” Billy asked with a smirk on his face

“Sure!” You say happily

You and Tatum start walking out talking about school gossip and more when you got home you we’re waiting for billy you end up falling asleep in the morning you go downstairs your dad who’s getting ready for work is interested in the news you looked at the tv

“It seems the killers were revealed as Billy loomis and Stu matcher we don’t have any further details on this tragedy Prayers goes out to the families of these victims”

Your heart broke

.

.

.

.

.

End of flashback…

You breathe in and out and goes back inside

(SHOULD I MAKE THIS A SERIES?) 😭

Posted this for fun I swear

Published for @savsxz

[talia-rumlow]

Wrong Address (Brock Rumlow One-Shot)

This story is inspired by and dedicated to @nekoannie-chan

The picture on the screen almost screams to you. “Order me, use me, you need me”. The magic wand on the screen is black, with some blue details on, you read the description again, and stop at that one sentence “guaranteed to bring you to orgasm”. Fuck, how you need this now. After a month as a single woman, you’re tired of using your fingers. You need this. You press order, and then “continue shopping”. You find a couple of other things you’d like to try as well. You’re single now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.

PLACE ORDER (EXPRESS DELIVERY) the price for express delivery is ridiculous, but with the way you’re feeling right now, you just can’t wait. The order confirmation mail tells you that the package would be delivered in about two hours. You take a breath. You can wait for two hours. Right? Take a shower, that might help. Even though you’d be on your own with these toys, you can still shave, and look good. That will probably make the fantasy easier to really feel.

You take your time in the shower, both to pass time, and to really make sure you look your best. Not one hair out of place, and not one hair in places they shouldn’t be.

When you’re done in the shower, and fully dressed again, you pour yourself a glass of white wine, and turn on your TV. You contemplate putting on an adult movie, but you push it away. That can wait. You need your toys first.

PIP!

Your phone tells you that you received a message. You grab it, and read “your package has been delivered to your door!” You almost jump up from your couch, and open your door. But you can’t see any package. You look up and down the hallway in your building. Nothing. Could someone have snatched it, in those three seconds it took you to open the door? This is so typical! Typical your luck! Screw this!

You slam the door shut, and call the delivery company.

– UPS delivery service, how can I help you?

A lady says on the other line.

– Err.. Yes, this is YN YLN. I just got confirmation that my package was delivered to my door. But there’s nothing there.

You say, upset.

– OK, let’s see, what number did you get your confirmation from?

The lady asks. And you give her the number.

– I’ll call the person who delivered it, and see what I can find out, and I’ll call you right back!

You hang up. Fuck this shit. Those things you ordered aren’t exactly something you want the whole world to know about. Not that you care that people know, but it’s not like you broadcast it.

PIP!

Your phone tells you you got another message. A picture this time. A picture of your package outside a door. A door that is not yours. It’s not even in your building. The floor and the walls are different. Where did they deliver your package? And to whom? Your phone beeps again, it’s the UPS service calling back.

– Yes!

You say, angry this time.

– Did you get the confirmation picture ma’am?

The lady on the other line sounds upset as well.

– Yes, but that’s not my door!

You answer, still angry.

– The package was delivered to the correct address ma’am! Maybe you should check again!

She continues.

– The delivery person is sure of that. They delivered it to the correct address.

Now she sounds angry as well.

– Well I didn’t move in the last two hours, so that’s not my address!

You say, before you hang up. Fuck this shit. You could study the picture, and try to find out where the package was delivered. But that will be almost impossible. FUCK! Anyway, you need to relax before you even think about doing that. So fingers it is…. Again. Screw UPS! You were looking forward to trying something new tonight. And to actually get an orgasm for a change.

You make sure that your door is locked, before you make yourself comfortable on the couch. Let your hand slowly glide into your underwear. You close your eyes. Trying to see your dream guy in front of your face. Trying to convince yourself that he’s the one touching you. God, how amazing that’d be. To have that tall, dark, muscular strong man, with brown eyes, touching you like this. Kissing your neck, and whispering sexy phrases in your ear, with that husky voice you imagine he has. To have his strong hands grabbing your wrists, and tell you to stay still and let him do his thing. You can almost smell the imaginary perfume. Fuck, you’re getting wet as fuck just by thinking about it. You let your index finger glide over your clit. You let out a soft moan. Fuck, you can’t take this anymore. You push two of your fingers inside you, massaging your walls with them, clenching your muscles. Fuck. You moan again. Jesus, are you actually going to make yourself cum. You pick up the intensitet on your fingers, your other hand helping by rubbing your clit.

– Ahhhh..

You let out. Fuck this feels good. Your eyes still closed, as you conjure your dream guy in your head. What he feels like, how he smells. His fingers inside you, and his lips on your neck. FUCK! Your back arches off the couch, your toes curling, you’re breathing so heavy it makes your mouth go dry.

Then there’s a knock on your door.

FUCK! Why is this happening to you? You can’t even have an orgasm without people interfering! This better be important! Or else the person knocking will get a BIG piece of your mind!

You angrily unlock and open the door, ready to yell at whoever’s outside. But when you open the door, and look at the person standing there. You almost fall backwards. HOLY FUCK! Did you actually conjure your dream guy? That is some powerful masturbation. You can’t get a single word out. This guy, standing outside your door has rendered you speechless.

– Err.. Hi?

He says.

– Eh…

That is the only sound you’re able to make.

– Are you, YN YLN?

He continues.

– Ehmm..

God, YN. Say something! Right now you probably both look and sound like a fish on dry land.

– Is this your package?

He says, lifting up the package.

– W… what?

You say. Unable to take your eyes away from this guy’s face. He is literally the spitting image of the guy you conjured in your head just a few seconds ago.

– Your package?

He says again.

– It was delivered to me, by mistake. You are YN YLN right?

He says, looking at you.

– Yes, yes. That’s me!

You finally manage to say.

– Thank God! You’re a hard person to find. I feel like I’ve been in every building in a four mile radius.

He says, as he gives you your package and takes a breath.

– Thank you!

You say, continue to look at him. He even has the right shade of brown in his eyes. How did this happen?

– Err.. Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?

You ask. What are you doing? He could be an ax murderer or something worse even. But for some reason you can’t seem to believe that an ax murderer can look this fricking good.

– Sure, a coffee sounds great.

He says, as he enters your apartment. You look at his back. He has a tshirt on, and jeans. Fricking hot body. You just stand there and look. Move, YN, move. You think for yourself, but your eyes are glued to this guy’s back.

He turns around.

– Err.. Weren’t you going to make coffee?

He asks, smiling. Fuck, even his smile is perfect. And you didn’t have that orgasm. This guy isn’t exactly helping your body to get over that fact.

– Yes, yes.. Sure! Just sit down….

You look at the couch you just lied on, and you desperately try to find another spot for him. But you’re too late. He sits down on your couch.

– There…

You say, defeated.

– Nice place you have!

He says, as you turn on your coffee machine. Then you hear a small pffts, and the machine goes dead.

– Fuck!

You almost yell. He turns around to look at you.

– Something wrong?

He says, getting up, and walks over to you.

– Nah… Just my fucking coffee machine…

You say, putting the two coffee cups down in the sink.

– No worries. This wine is good!

He says, lifting up a bottle of wine. You look at him. What is his deal? Not that you would say no to a glass of wine with this guy. But, where is he getting all this self confidence from?

He walks back to the couch.

– Looks like you already started. Did you know I was coming?

He asks, when he sees your wine glass on the table. What in the world? You think. You’ve never met anyone like him before, and it intrigues you. Not only because of his looks.

– What? I can’t enjoy a glass of wine by myself?

You say, trying to sound as confident as he is. But you’re unsure if it’s working.

– You’re single, aren’t you?

He asks, letting his tongue glide over his bottom lip. That move alone makes the spot between your legs throb.

– As of recently, yes!

You answer, as you sit down, and pours you both a glass.

– I can tell! Aren’t you going to open your package?

He asks, taking a big gulp of his wine. You look at him. Taking a gulp yourself.

– Nah, it can wait.

You say, putting your glass back on the table.

– It said express delivery. Felt like it was important to you.

He continues. Pouring more wine for both you and him. You clear your throat.

– Well, I have company now, so it can wait.

You answer, sending him a small smile. And lift up your glass to drink some more wine. All this talk about your package makes you a bit embarrassed. After all, you know what’s inside.

– Something in the package you don’t want me to see? Something private?

The way he says the last word makes you choke on your wine, you calf like crazy. He pats your back.

– Hey, you OK?

He asks, you nod. You don’t dare to speak, afraid that your voice will break, and you’ll start to calf again. He keeps his hand on your back. And you like how his touch feels.

– I’m Brock, by the way. I think I forgot to tell you that.

He says, as he lets his hand gently glide up and down your back.

– YN! But you already knew that.

You say, and look at him. You can’t believe that someone can actually look this good.

– Well, YN!

He says, clears his throat.

– I… I think I might owe you an apology..

He continues, clears his throat again.

– Eh..

You say. Apology? You don’t even know this guy. The only thing he should apologize for, is the fact that he knocked on your door right the second you were about to have an orgasm.

– I… I kinda opened your package..

He says, letting his hand rest on your lower back.

– What??!!? Why did you do that??

You almost yell. Embarrassed out of your mind, and probably red as a tomato in your face. Brock laughs a bit.

– I was waiting for a package myself. So when I got this one…

He puts the package in your lap.

– I thought it was mine. I kinda understood that it wasn’t when I opened it.

He says, laughs a bit again. You look at him again. Trying to at least pretend that you’re not embarrassed.

– Were you going to have some fun tonight?

He asks, letting his hand glide up to your shoulder, and down your arm. For some reason you let him.

– What makes you think that?

You ask. Trying to sound confident. He just points to the note that says “Express Delivery”, then he smiles at you, a teasing smile.

– Want to test them out?

He asks, letting his fingertips glide over your hand.

– I wasn’t..

You say. He gently grabs your wrist, lifting your hand up to his face, smelling your fingers. Smiles at you again.

– It kinda smells like you want to test them out..

He says, before he lets his tongue touch your fingers. You let out something that sounds like a moan.

– See.. I told you..

He says, leaning in closer, you do the same.

– So? Should we open your package?

He asks. You nod, slowly. Swallowing. He leans in even closer, whispers in your ear.

– That black thing will make you scream my name!

He whispers, lingers next to your ear for a while, before he slowly moves his lips to meet yours.

– Mmhmm..

You say, when he pulls back again. Then you slowly start to open your package. The whole time you can feel his eyes on you.

When you’re finally done opening it, and all the four items you ordered, lies on the table, he picks up the box with the magic wand. Carefully open it, and take it out.

– Beautiful, isn’t it?

He says, moving his eyes from the wand, to you.

– Do you have any batteries?

He continues. You nod, slowly. For some reason you really want to see this through.

– You might want to go and get them.

He says again, letting his hand slowly glide up your thigh.

You get up, and get the batteries. When you sit back down again, he takes them from you, and gets the wand ready. Then he proceeds to your other devices. You follow his movements with your eyes, swallow.

– Lie down!

He says, when he’s finished. You slowly lie down on the couch. Keeping your eyes on him. When you’re on your back, he lifts your skirt up, slowly removing your underwear,and then he places your leg up on the back of the couch. Now you’re completely open to him. You take a shaking breath.

He lets his fingertips glide over the inside of your thigh.

– Ahhhmmmmm…

You let out, and he smiles at you.

– I knew you’d like this…

He says, before he starts to place kisses on your inner thighs. All the way up. Then he stops for a second. You let out a whimper.

– You want me to continue?

He asks. You nod.

– You want me to taste you? To taste this beautiful wet part of you?

He continues, as he uses two fingers to open you up, exposing you even more.

– Yes!

You say. Bucking your hips.

– So eager…

He says, before he leans down, and lets his tongue glide over you. Painfully slow.

– Fuck!

You almost scream. Shit! This is better than any toy. He lets his finger tease your entrance, before he slips it inside, quickly joined by another.

– Ahhh..

You moan, as he closes his lips over your clit, sucking on it. You desperately bucky your hips, as he finds that sweet sensitive spot, and focuses solely on that.

– Yes, that’s it!

He murmurs into your wet flesh. His breath on your already sensitive clit, makes it throb even more.

– I want you!

You moan out, grabbing his hair. He gently gets himself out of your grip, stands up, and removes his clothes. You follow him with your eyes. His body is in lack of a better word, amazing. Broad shoulders, dark skin, and a six pack that screams “touch me”. You let your eyes trail further down. Some dark hairs showing the way down to his erection. It takes all you have, not to reach out and touch it. Fuck this guy is good looking.

– Want to feel it?

He asks, looking from his erection to you. You nod. Fuck how you want to touch it, feel it, taste it.

He picks up the magic wand from the table. Turn it on, smiling at you. You slightly turn your head, to get better access to him, before you close your fist around him.

– Ahhh.. Mmmm..

He says, when you let your tongue glide over his head. He slowly moves the wand down between your legs, and you close your lips around him, swirl your tongue around, before you slowly take him down.

– Aaaaa.. Yes!

He moans, letting the want touch your clit.

– Fuck, girl!

He lets out, before he puts some more strength on the wand.

– Mmmmmm..

You moan around his cock. You can feel it throbbing, and you taste the precum. Fuck! He ups the pace on the wand. You move your head away from him. Look up at his face

– I want you inside me!

You can hear yourself say, as your eyes meet. You don’t have to ask twice. He’s on top of you in milliseconds, entering you right away.

– Aaahh. Fuck! So tight!

He grunts into your ear.

– Fuck me, Brock!

You moan into the skin of his neck, as he grabs your shoulders, and fucks you into the couch. The way his cock is massaging your walls mixed with his breath on you, and his words. It almost pushes you over the edge. You can feel your orgasm start to build.

– Ahhhh.. Fuck! Shit!

You scream, as you clench your muscles around him.

Then he stops, sits up between your legs, looking at you.

– Don’t stop!

You say, almost angry. He smiles.

– So hungry for it…

He says, before he grabs your hips, and drags you up in his lap, before he enters you again.

– Fuck, this looks amazing!

He grunts, as he slowly glides in and out of you.

– To see you gripping around me, desperate to have me inside. You wetness glistening all over me! Fuck!

He continues, as he painfully slowly massages your walls with each thrust.

– Please!

You beg, falling down on the couch.

– Plh…

You try again, but you can’t even finish the word, before the wand touches your clit again, and he ups his pace.

– Fuuuuckkeehhhh…

You scream out. Grabbing whatever you can. Fucking hell. You’ve never felt anything like this before.

– YES!!

He moans.

– I can feel this thing vibrating on my cock! Fucking amazing. Want to cum?

He grunts, as he keeps thrusting into you.

– Yes! I want.. Need to cum!

You moan.

– Are you a squirter?

He asks. Your head is all wrapped up in that Electric feeling inside, but you get what he’s asking.

– I don’t know, I’ve never felt this befoooooooooo… Fuuuckeheee..!

You scream, moan, and shake without any control. God in heaven. Fuck! You feel like you’re about to lose yourself completely. You’re wildly bucking your hips, and you can feel his hands on your inner thighs. They are gliding up and down, caressing your thighs. You slowly start to come back to reality.

– You’re a squirter alright.

He says, when your eyes meet again.

– You might need to clean your couch..

You take a breath.

– They kept their promise…

You finally say, smiling.

– Promise?

He looks at you.

– Orgasm guarantee..

You say, then you both start to laugh.

– To be fair, I think I deserve half the Credit for that.

He says, when you’re done laughing. You look at him. Tilt your head a bit.

– I think it was the wand…

You say, with a teasing smirk.

– Oh, really?

He says, carefully leaning over you, slipping both his arms under your back, before he lifts you up, so you straddle him.

– How about you give me a chance to prove you wrong?

His erection still stands proud. You grind your lower body into him.

– Mmmhmm.. I’m all yours…

You say, leaning your head back. He leans in and places a kiss on your neck.

– No machine can compare to the real thing.

He says, as he slowly enters you again…

@here4thefanfics @late-to-the-party-81 @bat-mar @there-goes-thefighter

[rafescoke]

All I Ask ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

masterlist

#Part 2

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself in the arms of her best friend’s brother after finding her boyfriend cheating on her

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, hella angst, JJ being an extreme asshole

A/N: you guys are truly amazing. thank you so much for the countless amount of love & support for my last works, i love you! 

p.s, my request box is always open! go ahead and drop any ideas bae

“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re okay?”

(Y/N) emitted a laugh, her eyes focusing on the road, but her mind was somewhere else. She cleared her throat, “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Want to talk about it?” he said, and she noticed the grogginess behind his voice. She felt bad now, knowing that she had woken him up, but she was desperate for someone.

She couldn’t go to the pogues; her only friends, not when they knew. They knew all along about Kie and JJ but they didn’t try to talk to her. She thought about Pope, how he had looked so nervous around her since a month ago and how she had thought of it as nothing more than anxiety for his new upcoming scholarship application.

(Y/N) groaned, tightening her fingers around the steering wheel. Why had she been so naive? Why couldn’t she realize the signs sooner?

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked, suddenly jolting up from his bed when he realized how quiet she has gotten. Ever since they got close 4 years ago, there was never a long silence between them as (Y/N) always has a random topic to discuss about. He would tell her that he doesn’t care, but he truly likes the new information she’ll give him.

Like how the word ‘who’ is the oldest English word in the world. 

“Like, the owl?” he asked, scrunching his face. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, licking the slowly melting ice cream, and Rafe had a sudden thought of stealing her snack.

“No. God, you’re stupid. It’s who.”

“Yeah, the owl,” he grunted, thinking hard. (Y/N) looked at him with her bored eyes again, and Rafe took a quick glance at the dripping ice cream.

“No, Rafe, that’s woo. I’m talking about who.”

“You should write it.”

Rafe watched as she used her pointer to write the word ‘who’ on the table using her ice cream. Rafe laughed, finally understanding the joke, and he smiled wider when she returned a grin.

“No,” her voice croaked, and she could feel her tears slowly rolling down her red cheeks. God, she felt stupid. Why would she cry over stupid stuff like this? She had told Rafe before that she couldn’t understand why Bella Swan was too sad over Edward’s flight, saying how Bella had Jacob all along to help her get over him. Rafe rolled his eyes at this statement, muttering something along the words of ‘this is a movie’, ‘Edward is hotter’, and ‘Jacob look like that cashier guy at the hardware store’.

But she understood everything clearly now because she too, felt like staying in her room for the rest of her life. 

“What happened? Do you need me to pick you up?” Rafe asked again, finally standing up from his bed and walking towards his bedside table to retrieve his car keys. He rubbed his eyes, still so tired, but he wanted to make sure she was safe.

“It’s alright, Rafe, you don’t have to pick me up, it’s just, um-” she took a deep breath, “Can I come over?”

Rafe stopped in his tracks, not sure if he had heard her right. He waited for a few seconds, “Huh?”

“Can I come over?” (Y/N) bit her lips, making a turn towards the road heading to Figure 8 from the Cut. The road was deserted, and she looked at the dashboard to check on the time.

2.43 a.m.

“Yeah, sure, um, when are you coming? I just have to wait for you, so you know the new passcode of the backdoor.”

“You guys changed it already?” she asked, and she was surprised to find a smile creeping onto her face. “When was the last time I came over? 2 months ago?”

“9,” Rafe muttered, “But it’s okay. I’ll wait for you, okay?”

“Okay,” she released a breath, “Thank you, Rafe.”

“Yeah,” was all he said before ending the line.

Maybe she did missed him. 

When she arrived before the white building of the Camerons’ household, she could see a figure sitting on the front porch, bending over something that (Y/N) assumed to be a phone.

Rafe was mindlessly playing Candy Crush, just starting on his third level when he heard a car door being shut. He jumped to his feet, ready to greet the girl, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the state of her.

She was still in her party clothes, her (H/C) hair in a messy ponytail and her makeup all smudged. He tried to think of a joke, wanting to lighten up the mood, but his deed was interrupted when she finally had him in a tight hug.

“Whoa,” Rafe exclaimed, putting his arms around her waist. He let her stayed in that position for a few more seconds, liking the warmth, and finally parted after he cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, um-” she sighed, not looking into his eyes. “I got cheated on.”

Rafe was glued to his spot as he watched her wiped her tears with her sleeve, looking down to her glittery blue slippers. He couldn’t remember the amount of times he had prayed for his (Y/N) and JJ to call it off, but he didn’t hope for any kind of cheating to occur.

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe said, pulling her into a hug again. He rested his chin against the top of her head, letting the scent of strawberry wafted into his nostrils. (Y/N) cried against his chest, her face all scrunched up, and when she pulled away for the second time, she noticed the tear stains on his shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she rushed, trying to remove the stain using her fingers even though she knew it was impossible. She was too tired to think logically; she felt like laying in bed and watching Love Island until the day she dies.

“You’re still stupid, even when you’re all fucked up,” Rafe sighed, but he watched her from the corners of his eyes in case his words had struck her, but she looked like she understood the joke. She smiled weakly, pulling on the hem of her dress that had rode up down.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling her by her wrist as he guided her through the backdoor to his room. He showed her the new passcode proudly, mouthing how it was his birthday date this time, and (Y/N) had emitted a small laugh.

Screw maybe, she did missed him.

“And still a mess,” she sighed, plopping onto Rafe’s blue bedsheet as she took a look around the room. The painting of a random boat in the middle of an ocean was still askewed, and his trash can were piling up. She made a face, pointing at the cause of disturbance.

“You have to clean that.”

“Sorry I couldn’t let you stay in our five stars suite, ma’am,” he said, finding an old t-shirt in his cupboard. “You know, since you barged in this hotel at this time, all there’s left is the 3 stars suite.”

“You’re calling this a 3 stars suite?” she laughed, tilting her head to one side. “Rafe, this room can’t even be rated.”

“Whatever,” he pulled out a yellow t-shirt, putting it aside before looking for a new pair of boxers. “Is your room still pink with that weird strawberry pound cake smell?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, crossing her legs. She was glad there were no crumbs on the bed, or else she would rather sleep in her car. “And that smell’s great. My sensory organs are blocked by all the dust you’re collecting in here.”

Rafe grinned, liking how she was back to her old self, and handed her the pair of boxers and the yellow t-shirt. (Y/N) muttered a quick thanks, her feet lightly padding against the carpeted floor towards his bathroom. She closed the door, leaning against the sink, watching her reflection in the mirror.

She did look miserable, and her eyes were all red and puffy. She always hate how puffy her eyes would get after a nice session of crying, having to endure the pain of soothing it down again. 

She shook her head, not wanting to spend anymore time thinking about JJ or Kie or the pogues who had betrayed her, and tried to reach for the zip of her dress. After a few good tries she sighed, relaxing her cramped arms. The familiar yet uneasy pain coursed through her veins, and without wanting to abuse herself anymore, she turned the doorknob.

“Rafe? Can you help me?”

“Huh? Yeah,” he came to the door, closing his eyes before he halted right in front of the object. “Are you naked?”

“No, can’t seem to be, too. Can you help me unzip?”

Rafe opened his eyes, feeling his heartbeat quickening, and with trembling hands, slowly unzipped her dress and stopping directly at the curve of her bottoms, silently admiring the view. 

He cleared his throat, shaking his head at the childish behaviour he just found himself in. “Yeah, done.”

“Thanks, Rafe,” she smiled, and turned to close the door again. Rafe listened to her breathing in the bathroom for a few more seconds, knowing how hard she was trying to ignore the aching feeling eating off of her. He wished he could take her pain away an make it his, knowing that at least he’ll have an excuse to snort more coke to ‘forget the pain’. 

When she got out of the bathroom, Rafe had to stop himself from drooling over her in his shirt and boxers. She always look good, but she had never looked better in nothing but his yellow shirt and his boxers. 

Rafe closed the light, remembering how she hates sleeping with any form of light either it’s tiny or big, and settled himself on the sofa. He wanted to give her space, not wanting to rush anything, knowing how tired she must felt from all the things she had to endure today.

“Rafe, we’re not 10. You can sleep on the same bed as I am,” she sighed, turning to face the other side. Rafe stood up, thanking the gods above, and settled for his new room.

“We never sleep in the same bed before,” he said, pulling the covers to shield himself from the cold. (Y/N) snorted at this statement, still not looking at him or even turning to face him.

The closest thing they have done to sleep right next to each other was in the car during a road trip, and when they woke up, they were both throwing disgusted faces and pretending to vomit.

“Stop it, you guys look stupid,” Sarah groaned, giving them a quick look over her shoulder. Rafe pulled his middle finger from under the blanket he was sharing with (Y/N), causing her to snort and struggling to hide her laugh.

. . .

“So yeah, that’s how you hit it.”

“You’re bluffing,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, taking over the club and watching the small hole in the distance, squinting her eyes. She took a step back, licked her teeth, and gave Topper the club back.

“See? I told you I’m right!” he exclaimed happily, clasping his hands together. He returned to the game, focusing on his goal, and hit the golf ball.

“That’s fine, I guess,” (Y/N) announced when he came back to the resting area, “For beginners.”

Rafe snorted, downing his mineral water before handing Topper the same bottle. Topper grunted at him, muttering how it’s unhygienic, but he took a full swing of it anyways, being so thirsty after sitting under the sun for hours long.

“We’re glad you’re back with us, (Y/N),” Topper smiled, removing his cap and fanning himself with the clothing. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he looked at Rafe’s expression, he quickly shut his mouth.

He wanted to ask her if she ever missed their old clique when she was with the pogues, but Rafe knew better. It had been 3 weeks since the incidence, and she had been doing so well in coping with the situation. They had been inseparable ever since, always attached to the hips everywhere they go; he couldn’t let one tiny mistake slip that can cause her another breakdown.

“Hey,” Kelce jogged to them, smiling apologetically at Rafe and Topper before placing a quick kiss on (Y/N) ‘s cheeks. (Y/N) smiled, knowing how sweet and gentle Kelce is, almost glad he still does the same thing to her even after they had not been hanging out for a year.

“You’re not dressed for the occasion,” Topper rolled his eyes, “And late. We’re already packing up, man.”

“I know, but I’m wondering if you guys would like to listen to Cage The Elephant this evening by the beach,” he explained, still heaving from his previous activity. He had drove straight from his home to the country club after getting 4 tickets to the show, excited to show his friends what he had gotten for her.

(Y/N) snorted, throwing her arms into the air. “Fuck off, Kelce. There’s no way they’re coming down to Obx.”

Kelce sighed, taking out his phone before showing her the proof in his photos. (Y/N) grinned, trying to contain herself, and looked at Rafe who seemed to be smiling as well.

“Thanks, Kelce,” she laughed, pulling him into a hug. They made her happy, and all the negative thoughts she had about them during her brief friendship with the pogues suddenly evaporating into the air. She squealed, jumping wildly, and she swore she has never felt this happy before.

Just them four. Like the old times.

Four hours later, (Y/N) took a step back when they arrived at the beach, the memory of what happened three weeks ago suddenly rewinding in her head. Rafe noticed how quiet she had been, and pulled her aside while Topper and Kelce went to check on the stage.

“Are you okay?”

(Y/N) bit her lips, nodding. She ran her fingers over the penguin charm Rafe had gotten her a week prior, saying how it resembles him when he sees her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him during that surprising moment, touched yet confused at the story behind the penguin charm.

“Okay. Do you need a drink?” he asked again, staring into her eyes. She shook her head, wetting her lips and putting on her usual smile. Rafe grinned at her, muttering how she’s doing so good, all while guiding her towards their two other friends.

“(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) turned to look at the source, not thinking much. She almost fell to the ground when she saw the person responsible, but Rafe still had his arms around her. He turned to check on her again, but followed her gaze when he noticed she was staring at the opposite direction.

“What the fuck?” Rafe yelled, pushing JJ’s chest with so much anger that he toppled over to John B. Sarah yelped, pulling Kie to her side, watching as her brother walked towards them furiously. 

“Chill, man, I just want to talk to her,” he said, taking a deep breath. He noticed the crowd starting to notice them, and his eyes landed on a certain girl who was held up by Topper and Kelce, both asking if she was okay.

“Fuck off, pogue,” Rafe said, his eyes stern as he stared over JJ and his group of friends. “You have nothing to say to her.”

As he turned to return to his friends, his chest heaving from the near-fight he almost encounter with JJ, he bended to (Y/N)’s height to check on her state. Her eyes were glassy, her face red.

“So you’re fucking them all now like a whore?” JJ shouted, loud enough for everyone else around them to gasp, and some already had their phones out. (Y/N) was shocked at this statement, frozen on her feet, not knowing what on earth would make JJ say that to her.

He was never mean to her, even when they had a fight. He yelled at her sometimes, sure, but she had been the one yelling first. He never called her anything of that sort, not even during sex, where she had given him her full consent.

“You’re crazy,” she muttered, her lips trembling. “Go to hell.”

“No, no, because it has always been easy for you, right? You broke up with me, got on with Rafe, leave your own friends and come back to the country clubs?” he laughed, and she flinched at his words. If JJ had meant the pogues as her friends, then he was totally wrong.

“Fuck off, pogue,” Topper stepped out, and before he could finish his sentence, JJ landed a full punch on his face, causing him to fall onto the ground with a thud.

(Y/N) screamed, getting to his side as Rafe returned JJ’s gesture. Topper laid on the ground with his nose starting to bleed, causing (Y/N) to panic while she rummaged through Rafe’s backpack he had left on the ground for clean tissues.

Topper groaned, keep wanting to get up, but (Y/N) held him in place, not letting her friend go and hurt himself more just for her. She cried while she tried to wipe the blood, hearing the fight behind her.

“Fuck you! You stupid pogue! You should be in jail like your dad!”

Something cracked in JJ as he yelled something back in pure anger. He punched, kicked, slapped and hit Rafe who was already on the ground, spitting blood.

“JJ! That’s enough,” Pope pulled him back, trying to contain the wild animal as he thrashed to escape. He yelled more curses at Rafe while Pope tried his best to pull him away, obviously not done with hitting the boy laying on the ground.

(Y/N) cried, running towards Rafe’s side, cupping his face and looking into his swollen eyes. She groaned when Rafe’s laugh filled the air, not believing how he was still joking in a state like this.

“I’m okay,” he said, his breath ragged. “Don’t cry. I’m okay.”

Rafe stood up slowly and looked at the direction of the still thrasing JJ, hearing his muffled shouts with his arms around (Y/N) ‘s waist. He held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder, still trembling.

“Let’s go home?” he asked, and (Y/N) didn’t need to be told twice to follow him into his car. As disappointed as she was that she didn’t get the chance to see her favourite band, she wanted to take care of Rafe, who had been there since the day she found out about Kie and JJ.

The clock struck 12 in the morning and the grandfather clock in the living room chimed as Rafe groaned, feeling a certain girl with trembling hands and tired eyes gently wiping a cotton pad across his cut. 

“Fuck! I said slowly,” he grunted, closing his eyes to decrease the pain. (Y/N) bit her lips, trying to concentrate all the while trying to contain her laugh. He hissed again when she dabbed on his cut, this time with his fingers gripping tightly around her wrist.

“I said slowly.”

“I’m doing it slow, asshole,” she smiled, and felt him softened when she finally threw the last cotton pad. She pulled the covers to his chin, fixing the front part of hair before going to the bathroom to wash her hands. When she came back, she found him still awake with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

“I really need you to sleep,” she sighed, “To heal your pretty face.”

Rafe grinned and though (Y/N) tried her hardest not to smile back, she couldn’t deny the warm feeling settling in the pits of her stomach. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

There was no use denying it anymore.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, getting into the space beside him. “Even when you are all fucked up.”

(Y/N) could sense his smile even when she didn’t look at him, knowing how soft he usually end up being when she compliments him. She turned to look at him.

“Are you serious about not wanting a girlfriend?”

Rafe turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised. His insides exclaimed happily, liking the way his words had struck her. He meant what he said, but that statement didn’t apply to (Y/N). 

“Why?”

“Just asking,” she shrugged, and made a move to touch his cut. He hissed, feeling a sharp pain soaring in him, but she looked so peaceful trying to figure out his wound.

“You can kiss them to make them feel better,” he grinned, and watched as she groaned, trying to hide her face against the pillow. Rafe laughed, and turned the lamp beside him off, knowing that he shouldn’t push it and leave her be.

Just as he was about to drift into a peaceful sleep, he felt her soft lips against his, to which it was quick and gentle before she pulled away, giggling.

“4 years.”

“Huh?” (Y/N) questioned, still smiling from the kiss she just initiated a few seconds ago. She couldn’t contain herself; he looked so peaceful, so sweet, and so handsome. She didn’t know why she hadn’t kissed him sooner.

“I waited for that since 4 years ago.”

“Now you’re just pushing it, Rafe.”

Rafe grinned against the darkness, and felt his heart soaring. “Can we kiss again?”

“Tomorrow,” she stated, and Rafe laughed.

Tomorrrow. The next day. Next week. 

He didn’t care - as long as he will finally have her by his side. 

-

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[highdramas]

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before? 

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

[apollostears]

FAMILY VACATION [ jjk ]

↬︎ anime: jujutsu kaisen

↬︎ featuring: college!gojo, choso, nanami, toji, and geto

↬︎ warning(s): swearing

PLOT. gojo takes you guys to his parents cabin in niseko, japan.

ADVISORY: reader is female and black unless stated otherwise.

college series

➟︎ on christmas, gojo surprised all of you with a trip to a skii resort in niseko, japan (where his rich ass parents co-own). well, more so he surprised you cause them hoes had already been before.

➟︎ despite gojo’s track record for being overly chill, he was more than prepared for this trip. having everything already taken care of and all you guys needed to do was pack and be ready.

➟︎ that should’ve been red flag number ten

“NOW IM ONLY GOING to ask you once gojo, and be honest with me, okay?” you warned, all of you in the foyer of the large cabin.

gojo’s head nodded quickly, “yes ma’am.”

“why is there only three rooms? did you do this on purpose?”

you were more than annoyed. four out of the five guys were heavy snorers and two of them slept rough as fuck, and one was an occasional sleepwalker. this was easily the worst situation you’d ever been in.

“i told my parents how many it would be but i guess i forgot to mention that one of us was a girl. they’re used to the guys, so they assumed. i can get you your own if you want!” gojo quickly suggested, face red in embarrassment.

which was a first seeing as gojo had never gotten embarrassed in his life. at least, not in front of you or because of you. sighing heavily, you decided to cut the ray charles man some slack.

“it’s okay, i can sleep with choso.” you solved, moving to the raven-haired boy.

choso was someone you had slept with before, on several occasions. whether it be to have a sleepover or because toji was being too loud, choso was a good sleeping partner.

“CHOSO?! you guys are sleeping together?! he got you before me?! oh my god.” gojo went through five stages of shock and then pretended to pass out onto geto, who let him fall instead of catching him.

at least you thought he was pretending.

“oh god, he’s dead!” you gasped, holding onto choso’s arm in horror, when gojo didn’t move after geto nudged him with his boot.

nanami rolled his eyes, silently asking the universe why him? “he’s not dead dumbass.”

“damn.” toji muttered under his breath.

you frowned, “well someone needs to wake his ass up.”

without a word, geto hooked his arms under gojo and dragged him down the hallway to, presumably, their room.

“you ready angel? i got your bags already.” choso had asked you, your eyes moving from the train wreck that was gojo and focusing on the man next to you.

you smiled at him and squeezed his arm that you were holding. “of course! lets go.”

“hey! don’t try no shit, you understand?” toji warned, pointing a accusing finger at the both of you.

“we aren’t hoes like you are.” choso answered before tugging you down the hall to y’all’s room.

you could hear toji talking to nanami down the hall. “did he just call me a hoe?”

“yup.”

“why, i never!”

➟︎ gojo and toji taught you how to snowboard. the both of them acting like they’re in the winter olympics when they do the hard courses.

➟︎ nanami was very good at skiing and often did that during your stay, than anything else. you guys think it was because of the beautiful skii lady that was at the slopes everyday.

➟︎ you, choso, and geto were always at the skate rink. whether you could ice skate or not, those two always dragged you with them.

➟︎ gojo’s parents got y’all a cabin with an outdoor AND indoor hot tub and when i say you were LIVING!! those boys could barely get you out of there, you stayed in there so much.

➟︎ geto had this awesome not idea of you guys doing the camping in the woods workshop that the place offered and it almost turned into a slasher movie.

➟︎ all of you were in one, huge ass tent, so really you guys were glamping, and one of the skii resort workers decided it would be a good idea to play pranks on you guys.

➟︎ lets just say that if you guys could’ve gotten banned, you would have. like toji and geto almost got y’all thrown in prison.

➟︎ nanami makes BANGING hot coco and that’s a certified fact. atp he’s a dilf that has five adult kids living in his upscale tokyo apartment.

➟︎ snowball fights have ensued and both toji and gojo are excluded from them bc they provoke each other to the highest of hells and throw really hard balls at all of you.

➟︎ geto gets really bad frostbite but still decides to go out like he’s a fucking supermodel.

gojo in the background “hoes don’t get cold!”

➟︎ toji brought his tattoo travel kit and gave you guys a couple of small tattoos. somehow, y’all all agreed on getting matching tattoos. it was a small writing of ‘4lifers’ and it was honestly so cute.

➟︎ shoutout to gojo’s parents for co-owning a skii resort. the best vacation you’d ever been on.

NOTE. lemme actually write something relating to them being in college 😭

↬︎ join the taglist: @rubinocore @nyxeclipse @sweeneyblue1 @knjkitten @namjoonswifeyy @sunrayyellowhalo @pimpnameyannie @brownmochi @mae-avenue @gabzlovesu

[murphslass]

Nervous Much?

Pt.2 >> Pt.3 >>> Pt.4

Warnings: teasing, flirting, jealousy, fluff, plus sized!reader, slight angst

GIF Creds: @londoncapsule

Being someone on the heavier side always made you feel different. Either all eyes were on you or not even in your direction, especially when it came to men. You had been craving some sort of attention from guys but no one ever gave you time. Except weirdos who were more interested in you as an experience or just a chubby chaser. It was seriously so degrading and annoying.

You currently worked at a bar serving drinks and had a massive crush on the bartender Negan. He was gorgeous and such a charmer. He put the flirt mode on everytime he saw you or any other woman. So you always never took his words seriously whenever he would sweet talk you.

Saturday night was really busy like always, drunk frat boys and annoying girls all thirsty. These nights tired you out the most when going back and forth from the bar to tables. Drinks were super heavy and orders were growing complicated. Your break couldn’t come any sooner as one of the bartenders told you it was time. You silently thanked goodness as you placed your tray down. Going towards the back of the bar you stood outside and cursed under your breath.

“Fuck me…”

“Well don’t mind if I do sweet lips.”

You jumped at the voice and saw Negan smoking on the bench. You felt yourself getting flustered at his comment but remained calm on the outside.

“Sorry, didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

“Don’t apologize. I could use a beautiful gal’s company.”

You let out a giggle as moves to make room on the bench for you. Your feet felt instant relief as you sat down after hours of serving.

“Damn babygirl, you seem all worn out. They murdering you in there?”

“You have no idea. But I guess you’ll find out once you finish your cigarette.”

He chuckles as he takes a drag. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pursed lips and how they parted to blow out the toxic smoke.

“See something you like babe?”

“Nope.”

You say quickly and turn away from him. Suddenly you felt anxious as Negan moved close and brought his arm to rest behind your shoulders.

“Wow. You must be so fucking on edge. You like me that much that I just get you all flustered in shit. Gotta say that shit is refreshing and adorable!”

He laughed loudly as you fiddled with your tank top and tried to look at his face. But you couldn’t help that remaining in eye contact made you feel tingly. Especially with that smile and it made you want to smile. Slowly your lips curled and he seemed happy with myself.

“Oh shit! There’s that pretty smile I’ve been dying to see. Look at you, such a fucking treat.”

You laugh and feeling more relaxed as he made comments.

“I know you probably gotta go back in soon but before you do could I borrow your phone? I actually lost mine in my truck.”

“Sure. Let me help.”

Negan stood with you and put out the cigarette as you followed him to his car. He unlocked the doors and called himself on your phone. As you tried listening for his phone you saw him pull it out of his pocket.

“Oh silly me. It was on me, but hey look here. I got some cute girl’s phone number now.”

You couldn’t say much as he saved your number and show that he put you in his phone as “Sweetcakes🍑” It made you feel all warm inside and maybe even a but confident. But that could wait as you realize your break was over. Rushing back inside and continuing labor for the drunks, you felt more at ease as Negan began his shift. He would look over towards you with a grin and made drinks.

After a few hours and growing close to closing up you saw a girl desperately flirting with Negan. She was the only few left in the building and it made you feel anger. The way he was looking at her and smiling at her made you feel sad. Was he really just pulling your strings for a quick fuck or was it just being nice. Gradually the last few left except the girl and you had to approach her.

“Excuse me ma’am. But were closed now.”

“I’m not done with my drink yet sweetie.”

“I can see that but it’s late and we all want to go home.”

“Fine then. Meet me outside you handsome devil.”

Your fingers gripped at your tray as you masked the jealousy you felt. She walked with an obvious sway in her hips and turned to wink at Negan.

“You can go Negan. I’ll clean up the bar and close up.”

“What makes you think I wanna leave?”

“Well your dates leaving isn’t she?”

“Oh please. I only flirt whenever I know the tip is gonna be huge. And boy did she tip.”

He said as held up the fifty dollars she left for his service. You still couldn’t shake the bad feeling she brought.

“Oh! I get it now. You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“I am not!”

You say as you wiped off the bar top with a damp rag. He giggled to himself as he dried glasses and watched you closely. The music played low in the background as you finish organizing everything. Negan followed and turned off all the lights, you both met the exit and locked the door. As you stepped out you wanted say something to Negan but that girl was outside waiting for him.

“Hey sexy. Wanna take me home?”

Negan cleary felt uncomfortable as she touched his arm and got a little too close. You were about to walk away before Negan took a hold on your wrist.

“Sorry. But my girlfriend and I are heading home. However, I did appreciate the tip.”

“Are fucking kidding me? You and this fucking whale?”

“Hey now, no need for disrespect missy.”

You felt nervous as he forcefully pulled you by the waist to toward his body.

“Ready to go home baby?”

Before you could answer he brought you into a deep heated kiss. You gasp against his lips and melted into him. Your concentration left as he held you so protectively and carefully. You let out a noise when he pulled away and you saw the girl stomp away. He laughed as walked you to your car and kept his hold on you. The courage you had left as you couldn’t face him after such a kiss.

“So can I expect another kiss?”

“From me?”

“Of course you sugar lips. Besides I hope you didn’t mind me calling mine. But if you like me as you perceive to, I think you’d like to be mine baby.”

You didn’t have much to say as you lean your back against your car with him standing next to you.

“How about this, I take you on a date. Dinner or a movie or whatever you’d like sweetcakes. That’s only if ya want to though.”

“That would be nice. But are you sure you’d want to? I mean look at me.”

“Fuck yes! I’ve been staring at you all night wanting to do all kinds of things, especially things go further than kissing.”

He says as moves hold your hand and look deeply in his eyes. Negan kisses your hand before stepping away but you stop him but grabbing his shirt.

“Wait!”

“Yes honey.”

“Could we maybe kiss again?”

He smirks and gently pins you against your car before kissing you yet again. His lips taking dominance over you so quickly and you submitted under his hold. You stay like this for a few minutes and just enjoy the treatment. You then groan frustrated as your phone rang in your pocket. You pull away and see your roomate calling.

“Yes?”

“You aren’t home yet so I just wanted to check on you.”

“Oh! I’m fine, just taking care of things.”

Your breath hitch as Negan kissed your neck and groped at your ass. You went to end the call fast and tugged at Negan’s hair to stop him.

“I gotta get going.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just know I’ll be texting you and most definitely gonna stroke my cock to this very moment.”

You face grew red and yet he laughed at your nervous attitude. His lips kissed your cheek as he pulls away to his vehicle. You couldn’t believe it at first but now it all sank in, you got a boyfriend now.

Part 2 🤭🤭???

JDM TAGLIST:

@ffakc @negans-attagirl @jonasdean02 @eddiesgirl @littlebadgirly @cosmilla @iluvneganandjamie @little-bad-girly @ohyoubetterbejokin @bratty-dolly @jdmsgal

[bellakitse]

To Love is to Know You

“Carlitos got hurt at work,” she whispers, her face pale and frightened. “He got shot, and they are rushing him to the hospital.”

+

When Carlos gets hurt on the job, his parents find out about the important parts of his life he’s been keeping from them, mainly the man he’s in love with.

Gabriel Reyes' POV

*there is accidental outing in this since this isn’t how Carlos planned on telling his parents.

6.3k

They’ve settled in for the night and are in the middle of watching a movie their son recommended when the phone rings.

“Carlos really likes this?” he questions skeptically as more blood goes spraying across the screen.

His wife chuckles at his tone even as she winces at the scream the protagonist lets out for the 100th time.

“He’s young, Gabriel. I don’t think we’re actually supposed to like what Carlitos likes,” she tells him as she leans across the couch, reaching for her phone. She turns to him with a smile as she shows him the caller ID. “Hablando del diablo,” she says fondly before pressing talk on their son calling.

“Tell him I’m questioning his choices,” Gabriel jokes, pausing the movie as Andrea says hello with a smile. He watches as that smile quickly drops, his heart seizing in his throat as she lets out a gasp and a shaky ‘what?’ to whoever she’s speaking to. It’s obvious now that it’s not their boy.

He waits for her to end the call with a fearful ‘we’ll be there soon’ before she turns to him with tears in her eyes.

Even before she speaks, he knows, and his hands shake as they reach for hers.

“Carlitos got hurt at work,” she whispers, her face pale and frightened. “He got shot, and they are rushing him to the hospital.”

 ֎֎֎

 The drive to the hospital is both short and the longest drive Gabriel Reyes has ever had behind the wheel. Next to him, Andrea grips the rosary his mama gave her after they got married. She doesn’t pray, though, and he thinks she’s too worried to remember any prayer at the moment.

“He’s going to be okay,” he tells her, his voice rougher than he would typically use with his sweetheart, but he can see her starting to spiral, and he needs her to focus on his voice and not on all the troubling thoughts he knows are running through her head at the moment. “Carlos is young and strong. He’s going to be fine, he –”

“Is our baby boy,” she whispers, looking at him with those big brown eyes, so like Carlos’ when he was little, looking at him to make everything okay.

“El va estar bien, amor,” he tells her softly, willing himself to believe it too.

He pulls into the hospital parking lot. They quickly exit the car, holding hands as they rush towards the doors and the front desk. He’s sure they both look a fright as they ask the girl behind the counter for information.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes,” calls out a tired voice to them, and when they turn around, they find a familiar-looking young man with brown hair and green eyes standing before them in an EMS uniform.

Gabriel is struck by his eyes. They’re wide, the worry in them plain to see, and it’s obvious he’s been crying by how pink and puffy they are.

“I’ve been waiting for you both; I didn’t want you to get lost,” he tells them, pointing to a door at the far end of the hall to the left. “We’re in there.”

“How’s Carlitos?” his wife asks at the same time as he says. “We’ve met you before.”

“Uh – yes – you have, sir. I’m TK,” he answers with a grimace. Gabriel knows it is the young man’s effort to smile but just can’t. “We met at the farmer’s market about nine months ago.”

TK turns to Andrea, his expression softening instantly. “They took Carlos to the back when we got here, ma’am, but we haven’t heard anything yet.”

“What happened?” he asks TK and is struck again by how expressive his eyes are. Gabriel sees pain, fear, frustration, and anger cross his face.

“We were answering a call to a disturbance; a man was threatening to set fire to his ex-bosses place and was holding them hostage inside. He was armed, so Carlos and the rest of APD went in first,” TK takes a pause, swallowing hard, and Gabriel is struck by how the young man is keeping it together when it’s undeniable that it’s difficult for him to do so. “Shots were exchanged, and the suspect was neutralized but not before he hit Carlos.”

“Where?” he asks, hoping against hope that his son was wearing his vest. TK’s face, scared and apologetic, tells him it doesn’t matter.

“T – the,” TK clears his throat, lifting a hand to run through his hair. Gabriel catches the slight shake of it. It’s not the only thing he spots on them. Though mostly clean, Gabriel notices specks of blood on them. Looking him over once more, he sees some on his uniform too. “The neck, sir.”

Andrea lets out a gasp, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and muffle the sound.

“You worked on him,” Gabriel realizes. He needs to focus on something other than the information they’ve just been given.

“Yes,” TK answers, biting down on his lip to the point that Gabriel wants to wince at how painful it looks. Given the redness of his mouth, the kid has probably been doing it a while now. “My Captain didn’t want it to be me – ” TK stops.

He takes a breath, collecting himself. “We stabilized him on the field and then brought him over. My Captain is here if you want to speak with her while we wait for the doctors.”

They follow the young man down the hall into a private room, and Gabriel is shocked to see how full it is with first responders, most still in uniform like TK. Everyone seems to turn to look at them when they walk in.

“These are Carlos’ parents,” TK explains to the crowd before turning to a tall woman with a sympathetic but no-nonsense look on her face. “Captain Vega, could you – ” he gestures towards them.

The Captain nods, standing from her seat to walk over to them. She has a bag with her that she hands over to TK.

“Nancy brought your stuff from your locker,” she says to the kid with a kind smile. She places her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go change while I speak with Carlos’ parents.”

TK nods, looking relieved. “Yeah, Cap, thanks.” He turns towards them, looking like he wants to say something else but doesn’t. Instead, he gives them a small nod and walks away, leaving them with his Captain.

Gabriel focuses on her, reaching out to hold his wife’s hand as Captain Vega goes through the emergency in more detail. She’s compassionate but honest as she breaks down her assessment of Carlos’s injuries on the scene and their handling of it.

“TK is one of the finest medics I have ever worked with,” she tells them, with something akin to pride in her voice. “And it’s Carlos. He wasn’t about to lose him,” she continues softly, knowing. “We got him here, and they’ve had him in the back for the last hour. I’m sure they’ll come out and tell us something soon. All we can do now is wait, unfortunately.”

“And pray,” Andrea whispers thickly.

“Never a bad idea,” she says with a small, understanding smile. She looks away from them when someone calls her name, an older man in uniform walking towards them.

“Tommy, any word? Where’s TK?” he asks, rushed.

“Nothing yet,” she answers the man whose uniform says, Captain Strand. “And TK is changing. We didn’t want him to still be in the uniform that – “ she pauses, her eyes drifting to them.

“Right,” Captain Strand nods before his blue eyes turn towards them. Gabriel watches as he quickly recognizes who they are. “Mr. and Mrs. Reyes?” he questions, exhaling loudly when he answers him with a nod.

“Owen Strand, TK’s dad,” he says, extending his hand to Andrea first and then him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m sorry it can’t be under better circumstances.”

Gabriel cocks his head at the peculiar comment.

“You work with our son?” Andrea asks politely, probably trying to distract herself from the worry she’s feeling.

“Often,” Owen gives them an honest smile. “He’s one hell of a police officer, good instincts, good head on his shoulders, strong,” he tells them intentionally. “He’s going to come through this just fine.”

Gabriel appreciates the comment, if anything, because it makes Andrea smile for the first time since they heard the news.

“Why don’t we sit down,” Owen continues. “We’re going to be here a while,” he points towards three firefighters with the same 126 insignia he has on his clothes, and they quickly get up, giving them the space. “Maybe we can get you some coffee or tea?”

He shakes his head but nods towards Andrea. “Some tea might be good for your nerves, vieja.”

Andrea nods absently, and Owen turns his head towards the trio who gave them their seats. “Strickland, Marwani, Chavez – “

“On it, Cap,” says the young Latino whose chest tag says, Chavez. “We’ll get for everyone.”

Owen offers the kid a grateful smile. “Get TK a sandwich. I know he hasn’t eaten.”

“He might not want to,” says the other man in the group with a deliberate look.

“We’ll sit on him and force him if we have to,” answers the young woman in the headscarf with a glint in her eyes that tells him she’s not joking. Gabriel watches them leave the room.

“They’re good kids,” Owen comments, catching his gaze. “They care about Carlos very much,” he says with a soft laugh. “Probably because he’s always feeding them when they hang out at his place.”

Andrea smiles at the comment, but Gabriel finds it curious. He doesn’t find it strange that his son would be welcoming. Like his mother, Carlos has always strived to make everyone feel at home. He is just surprised that his son is so close with this particular firehouse and its members.

TK comes back into the room in a hoodie and sweats, looking around. Gabriel watches as his eyes land on them before moving over to his father. He watches as the kid’s shoulders drop at the sight of his dad and quickly makes his way over, almost plowing into him as Captain Strand stands with his arms open, circling them around his boy.

“He’s gonna be okay,” he hears him whisper into his son’s ear. “Carlos wouldn’t leave you, you know that.”

Gabriel takes a sharp breath at the words; he looks over at his wife, seeing that her eyes have gone wide as she stares at the father and son with a newfound gaze, and he knows she’s caught it too.

Before they can come to terms with what it might mean, a doctor in green-colored scrubs walks in with a manila folder in hand. “I’m looking for Officer Reyes’ family?” he questions, startling as everyone stands or looks over at him.

Gabriel is surprised himself but warmed by the idea that so many people care about his son. “Over here,” he calls the doctor over. “We’re his parents.”

The doctor nods in response, crossing the distance between them until he’s standing in front of them, TK and his father joining in. “We’ve stabilized your son enough to move him,” the doctor starts. “He’s in the O.R. now; we’re repairing the damage. He was lucky that the bullet didn’t hit his carotid artery.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Andrea rushes to ask, fear coloring her question.

“We’re doing everything we can, ma’am,” the doctor answers softly with a sympathetic look. “He’s holding strong and was brought in quickly.”

“When can we see him?” he asks, his heart dropping at the shake of the doctor’s head.

“It’s going to be a while,” he answers. “We’re not sure how long it will be in the O.R., and then in recovery, it’s going to be a couple of hours.”

Gabriel feels the room deflate around him at the answer and feels the same.

“For now, I need his next of kin to sign off on some waivers,” the doctor continues as he looks inside his folder, reading out of it. “Who is Tyler Kennedy Strand?” he asks, the question filling the room with sudden tension.

“Uhh – me,” TK stammers, his eyes going to him and Andrea awkwardly. “But his parents – “

The doctor cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Officer Reyes’ work forms have you as the one with the power of attorney over any medical decisions on his behalf. You are aware of this, yes?”

TK looks pained and uncomfortable, apologetic even as he looks at Andrea before nodding. “Yes,” he says softly. “Carlos and I spoke about it a few months ago.”

“Then I need you to come with me, Mr. Strand,” the doctor answers, his eyes shifting over to them as well. “It’s just a formality, you understand.”

TK nods again, gesturing for the doctor to go first, following him out of the room, leaving the rest of them in silence, and he and Andrea stunned.

“They’re involved,” he states, not sure to who, but he catches Captain Strand’s slight wince.

“TK will explain when he comes back in,” he assures them, though Gabriel isn’t sure what he would have to explain. It’s pretty obvious the kid is someone important enough to his son that he would leave him in charge of his care if anything happened to him, and he and his wife know nothing about him.

Andrea reaches for his hand. When he looks at her, he sees the same confusion and hurt in her eyes he’s feeling. He squeezes it reassuringly as they retake their seats, neither knowing what to say.

They stay like that, silently waiting for TK or the doctor to come back. Owen walks away from them, drifting towards the other Captain.

After a few minutes, the ones who walk in are the trio of firefighters the Captain sent out for a snack.

“Te de manzanilla,” Chavez says with a boyish smile as he hands the cup of tea to Andrea. “My Abuela says it’s good for nerves.”

Andrea takes it but doesn’t drink right away. “Thank you – um?”

“Oh! I’m Mateo,” he answers before pointing at the other two who are finishing handing out bottles of water and coffees. “That’s Paul and Marjan. We’re friends of Carlos,” he says with another friendly smile as they come over to them.

“Nice to meet you all,” Andrea answers, elbowing him in the side to do the same.

Gabriel checks out, his mind drifting while his wife picks up the slack and chats with the trio, exchanging small talk. He only tunes in when Mateo asks about their new filly.

“You know about Sally?” he questions, frowning, confused. He gets a few nods from all of them and smiles.

“Carlos showed us pictures of her the last time we were over at his and TK’s place for dinner.”

Gabriel can’t help the sharp breath he takes at the comment.

“They live together?” Andrea asks, shocked, her voice above a whisper.

“Oh,” Paul says softly, his eyes widening with realization at their lack of knowledge. He exchanges worried looks with the young woman Mateo called Marjan. Both open their mouth as if to speak and then stop at a loss for words. Luckily for them, TK walks back into the room, making his way towards them.

“Guys, could you give me a second with Mr. and Mrs. Reyes?” he asks politely but firmly.

“Yeah, of course, man,” Paul says quickly, while Marjan tugs on Mateo to stand, moving away. Paul starts to follow them, only to stop and look at TK, speaking again with an apologetic look on his face. “We’re sorry, we didn’t know – “

TK waves him off, a half a smile on his tired face. “Don’t worry about it, Paul.”

Paul gives him a nod, looks at them, and nods again before walking away.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” TK tells them softly, biting down on his lip for a moment before taking a breath, straightening his shoulders. “I’ll do my best to answer them. Should we find somewhere a little more private?”

He looks over at his wife and finds her studying TK with a curious eye. He’s not surprised. He’s more than curious himself about this man who is important enough in his son’s life to be making decisions of life and death for him and apparently living with him. “I think that might be best.”

TK nods mostly to himself, motioning for them to follow him.

He leads them out into the hallway and into another room that Gabriel realizes is the chapel.

“Is this okay?” TK questions nervously. “I don’t want to be disrespectful,” he gestures towards the altar.

“It’s fine, TK,” Andrea assures him.

They take a seat together towards the back of the room, TK sitting across from them.

Nobody says anything for a long moment. He sits watching TK as he taps his foot, and Andrea plays with her hands, struck by the similar nervous motions. He recognizes as TK looks at them with a worried wrinkle between his brow, he doesn’t know where to start, and Gabriel is struck by how young he looks like this. It reminds him of Carlos’ nervous habits growing up, so concerned with disappointing them.

“How long have you and our son been together?” he questions, ripping off the bandaid.

“We’ve been dating for over a year,” he answers honestly, wincing when Andrea lets out a shocked sound. “But we’ve known each other for over a year and a half. It took a while for us to get – us, right.”

“A year?” Andrea questions, surprised and more than a little sad. “He’s kept this from us for a year?”

“He didn’t mean to,” TK rushes to explain – to defend their son to them, Gabriel realizes. He stops looking nervous, and Gabriel can honestly feel the wave of protectiveness coming off the young man.

While the part of him that isn’t still shocked at this sudden news is pleased that Carlos has found someone obviously loyal to him, another part of him is at a loss at being someone this young man thinks he needs to protect his son from. It leaves an unpleasant feeling in his stomach he tries to push down before he reacts in a way that he’ll regret later.

“Then what did he mean?” he questions, trying to understand. “Because if you guys have been dating for a year, that means you two were together when we met you at the market, and he called you a friend from work.”

He feels bad as his words cause the kid to flinch, and a small cynical smile twists his lips upward for a second.

“Yeah, that caused a big fight between us,” he answers dryly. “Look, this is something you need to talk about with Carlos when he comes to. We both knew it was a long time coming, and trust me, he’s been working up the nerve to tell you both about us.”

“Why would he need to work up the nerve?” Andrea questions while Gabriel watches as TK’s eyes flash, his hands curling for a moment. He’s struck by the fleeting anger he sees there – at them.

“Because you’re both more traditional, and he didn’t want to rub your noses in our relationship,” he answers tightly, making Andrea gasp.

Gabriel feels his hackles raise at the resentment he hears in the words. “Hey now, you don’t get – “

“Carlos’ own words,” TK interrupts, his voice sharp enough to stop him. TK stops too, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I apologize,” he starts again, his voice calmer. “It’s not my place at all, and Carlos needs to be the one to explain this to you.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with his wife, letting out a sigh when she gives him a serious look. He turns towards TK again, taking a calming breath of his own. “But he’s not here right now, and we’d like to understand.”

TK lets out a sigh, nodding at them after a moment. “You’re right,” he agrees quietly, running a hand through his hair. “I just really wish he was here, though,” he pauses, the pain and love in his eyes as he speaks striking a core with him. This man loves his son. That much is clear.

“Okay, first things first. Carlos loves you both so much,” he tells them reassuringly. “He speaks of both of you with so much respect and admiration. Please don’t doubt that for one second. He didn’t keep us a secret from you because he doesn’t love or respect you.”

“Then why?” Andrea asks, trying to understand.

TK presses his lips together, giving her a helpless shrug of his shoulder. “Because he was scared of upsetting you, of disturbing the tentative peace that the three of you have had since he rocked your world by telling you he was gay at 17, and then none of you ever spoke about it again. He didn’t want to disappoint you.”

By TK’s expression, Gabriel knows that he hasn’t just spoken with any malice, yet he still feels his words hit him like a punch.

“But – that’s,” he stumbles at a loss for words. “Carlos could never disappoint us,” he looks at Andrea to find her with tears in her eyes. “We love our son.”

TK gives him a smile; it’s kind and understanding. “I don’t doubt that,” he tells them, looking at Andrea. “He’s so easy to love, of course, you love him.”

“You love him,” Andrea says in awe, still crying, but it feels different than before, almost happy in the middle of the hurt.

TK’s eyes fill with tears; they spill over even as he gives them a bright smile. “More than I have ever loved anyone in my life, ma’am. He is everything to me.”

Gabriel hears how much he means it in his voice and instantly remembers something from earlier. “You worked on him at the scene,” he exhales over a dull ache in his chest at the thought. “Jesus Christ, kid, how did you – “

“The worst moment of my life,” TK whispers, losing his smile, his bottom lip trembling. “And life has thrown some curveballs my way,” he inhales deeply in an effort to control his emotions. “But I wasn’t about to lose him, not like that and not now. We have our whole lives ahead of us, and I plan to spend mine with your son.”

Gabriel hears the conviction and the subtle threat he’s issuing them. He’s telling them he’s not going anywhere, and while a small part of him wants to be annoyed at the warning, Gabriel finds himself mostly impressed. He finds himself liking the kid despite the situation.

“You love him so much,” Andrea whispers, shaking her head to herself. Knowing his wife, she’s mourning the fact that they’ve missed out on seeing it. “And he loves you?”

TK nods quickly. “He never lets me doubt it, not for one single second,” he swallows before another smile takes over his face, soft and involuntary. “He’s wonderful.”

“I’m so sorry we’ve missed it,” she tells him, and Gabriel smiles to himself at how easy he can still read her. “It was never our intent to make Carlos feel like he couldn’t share with us his life. When he told us he was gay, yes, it was a surprise, but we never loved him less,” she frowns, letting out a soft breath. “We wanted him to feel like nothing had changed, and instead, we made him feel like he couldn’t talk to us.”

“But he can,” he continues for Andrea, hoping TK will understand.

Andrea nods in agreement. “He can,” she repeats. “We want to be part of the life he’s building with you.”

TK smiles. It’s wobbly but iridescent as it lights up the room. “He – we would like that very much,” he tells them, chuckling softly. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to know you both. You need to tell him when he wakes up.”

Andrea looks fearful again as she turns from TK to him and back again. “What if – “

“No,” TK answers resolutely. He holds out his hand for Andrea, covering it when she places it in his. “Carlos is going to be fine. He’s not leaving us.”

Gabriel watches them hold each other’s hands, his wife taking comfort from the man in love with their son, and hopes, for all their sakes, that he will turn out to be right.

 ֎֎֎

 The next three days are the longest of Gabriel’s life. After over seven hours of surgery and recovery, they’re allowed to see a sleeping Carlos.

If there was any doubt in his mind about TK’s feelings for his son, they’re wiped out the moment he sees him at his bedside. The way he takes his hand in his, holding it for dear life as he whispers in his ear that he loves him and that he’s there, that they all are.

They wait, hours and hours they wait for Carlos to wake up. The doctors tell them the surgery was successful, and now they just have to wait for Carlos’ body to recover enough for him to wake up. They’re not sure when that’ll be.

He walks into his son’s hospital room after taking a call from work to find TK alone with Carlos, his wife nowhere in sight.

“You know, sweetheart, if this is payback for the time I got shot and ended up in a coma, then message received,” TK talks to a sleeping Carlos, bringing his hand to his lips. “You can wake up now because I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You were shot?” he questions, raising an eyebrow, wondering exactly what these two have been through.

TK blinks up at him. He lowers Carlos’ hand but doesn’t let go. “Yeah,” he nods, clearing his throat. “Before Carlos and I officially got together, it was a house disturbance gone wrong, an accident, but I got hit in the chest and ended up in an eight-day coma. Carlos had to sit through it, the eight worse days of his life, he likes to remind me,” he turns back to Carlos, his expression softening. “I really didn’t need to learn the hard way how this feels.”

Gabriel makes a sound at the back of his throat. He takes the seat he’d been occupying next to Andrea, finding her purse still there.

“She went to the restroom and to get something to drink,” TK tells him. “I told her I would stay with Carlos.”

Gabriel nods in understanding, and the room goes quiet as neither says anything else. They both just watch Carlos, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes stray to TK —his focus on Carlos, the way he reaches out to touch his skin like he can’t bear letting him go for a moment for fear he’ll slip away. The last few days, he and Andrea have gotten to know the kid better, along with the rest of his crew.

Their love for each other and their love for Carlos is evident in every gesture and kind word they have to say about him. It still hurts him to know he and Andrea have missed so much. As he laid in bed holding his crying wife, more than a few tears slipped his own eyes at the lost time. Every day that passes, he promises to fix it when his son wakes up.

“You know, when he was around ten, he convinced his cousin to help him up the stallion at the farm,” he starts telling him, lost in the memory. “And this was a rough horse, even I didn’t ride him much, but he got on, and the thing, of course, sent him flying,” he shakes his head to himself. “He was knocked out maybe five minutes, but they were the longest five minutes of my life.”

“Was he okay?” TK questions, concerned even though it obviously turned out okay in the end.

“A fractured arm,” he answers, chuckling. “As soon as the cast was off, he was right back at it – this time bribing the horse with apples, carrots, and beetroots until he won him over. By the end, it would only let Carlos ride him. He was so smug about it, tipping his hat at us as he rode him.”

TK grins from ear to ear. “Tell me there are pictures of him in the hat.”

Gabriel stands, pulling out his wallet. He fishes out an old worn picture, passing it over to TK. He watches as the boy takes gentle care, running his index finger over the image as he smiles down at it.

“Damn, that’s cute,” he murmurs, handing back the picture after a moment longer. “You know, he won me over with patience too.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at the comment, waiting for him to continue.

“When he and I met, I wasn’t in a good place emotionally,” TK starts to tell him as he looks back at Carlos, reaching up to brush his hair back. “I’d gotten out of a relationship that left me messed up, and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I hurt his feelings at the beginning, and honestly, he should have just cut his losses.”

He looks over at him. “But Carlos doesn’t give up on people, especially when they’re hurting, so he became my friend, someone I could trust with the not-so-great parts of me. He never judged. He just cared about me more, making sure I knew that I was worth the effort even when I wasn’t so sure of that myself,” he smiles as he retakes Carlos’ hand. “He loves me even when I don’t always love myself.”

“I’m sure you do the same for him,” Gabriel answers. Even with Carlos asleep, he’s seen enough to know the two of them genuinely love each other. Now he just wants his son to wake up so he can see it for real.

“I try,” TK answers. “He makes it easy.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive us?” he can’t help but ask, the question playing in his head the last few days as he learned more of the parts of his life Carlos felt the need to keep to himself for their comfort.

TK frowns as he looks at him, shaking his head slowly. “Carlos will tell you there is nothing to forgive. He doesn’t blame you.”

“He should, though,” he can’t help but argue, feeling frustrated, angry tears at the back of his throat. Fear clawing its way back after three days of waiting for his boy to open his eyes and wondering if it will ever happen. “He was 17, a kid, scared but brave as he told us his truth, and while we accepted it at that moment, we didn’t make sure he knew that it would always be okay with us. That’s on us. We should have done better.”

“Do better now, Gabriel,” TK says to him quietly, shrugging his shoulder when he looks at him, his expression nothing but kind. “Forgive yourself, because Carlos never blamed you to begin with, and do better now.”

“Are you always so wise, kid?” he asks, smiling when TK lets out a bark of laughter.

“That is the last word anyone who knows me would use to describe me,” he shakes his head, still giggling. “Usually, it’s stubborn or reckless. Carlos has been known to call me a brat quite a few times,” he says fondly as he looks down at the bed.

“Because you always get your way,” Carlos rasps out, eyes still closed.

Gabriel isn’t sure who’s gasp is louder, his or TK’s as they both stand to get closer.

“Carlos? Sweetheart?” TK asks, cautious but hopeful, and Gabriel holds his breath as he waits to see if Carlos is genuinely back with them.

It takes a minute, maybe two, maybe three, but slowly Carlos opens his eyes.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK whispers, tears falling even as he smiles widely down at Carlos.

Gabriel watches as his son frowns as he tries to weakly reach up to touch TK’s face. TK helps him, lifting his hand and holding it against his cheek.

“Don’t – cry, Ty,” Carlos gets out slowly, brushing his thumb under TK’s eye, earning a wet laugh from him.

“I love you so much,” he says to him, and though he’s obviously tired and in pain, the smile Carlos gives TK is the brightest Gabriel has ever seen.

“Love you too, amor,” his son whispers back to his boyfriend, sounding just as hopelessly in love with him. It reminds Gabriel of him and Andrea, and he can’t help the small sound that escapes his throat.

“Dad – “ Carlos says softly, surprised as his eyes find him; they shift back to TK, concern coloring his expression.

“It’s okay, babe. I promise,” TK assures him with a smile as he gives his hand a squeeze.

“It is mijo,” Gabriel tells him, hoping to wipe away the slight fear he sees in his son’s eyes. He never wants to be the cause for that look again.

TK looks over to him, smiling at him reassuringly, and Gabriel remembers what he said to him moments before Carlos woke up. Forgive and be better.

“I’m gonna go find Andrea and a doctor,” TK declares, giving him a nod. He turns back to Carlos, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

TK steps away from Carlos, squeezing Gabriel’s arm as he walks by him before leaving the room, leaving him alone with his son.

Turning back to Carlos, he finds him still looking concerned as he stares at him, and that simply won’t do for him. He shifts over to where TK had been standing, now next to Carlos. “How do you feel?” he questions gently, getting a tiny shrug back.

“Tired,” Carlos gets out, his voice raspy. “Thirsty.”

“Oh! Of course,” Gabriel says quickly, turning to grab the pitcher of water on the bedside counter and a cup. Filling it, he turns back to Carlos, raising his bed a bit before bringing the straw to his lips. “Slowly, mijo.”

Carlos does as he asks, all the while looking at him. After he’s had his fill, Gabriel pulls the cup away, putting it back on the counter. He reaches out to his son, running a hand over his curls like he would do when he was a little boy.

“You scared the hell out of us, kid,” he whispers, swallowing hard as the last couple of days catch up to him. “We were so scared we were gonna lose you.”

Carlos leans into his touch. As he closes his eyes, a tear rolls down his cheek. “Sorry, pop.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Gabriel shakes his head. He takes Carlos’ hand. “These last few days have shown your mom and me how much of your life we have missed, and we’re so sorry.”

“Dad – “ Carlos tries. “I – “

“We messed up, Carlos,” he continues, needing to get it out. “We thought we were keeping things normal by not making a big deal out of you coming out, and instead, what we did was make you believe that you needed to keep parts of your life a secret for us to be comfortable. But our comfort isn’t the most important thing. Your happiness is, and as long as you’re happy, so are we.”

Carlos’ eyes fill with more tears, and Gabriel is struck by how young he seems as he looks up at him hopeful.

“We met your boyfriend,” Gabriel chuckles fondly. “I mean, obviously. He’s pretty special, Carlitos. You picked a good one.”

Carlos laughs. It’s wet from tears but joyful. “I picked the best one.”

Gabriel smiles at the pride he hears in his son’s voice. “We’d like to get to know him, son,” he says. It’s a hope and a request in one. “Your mom and I, we’d like to know him and you,” he swallows hard as his eyes burn. “We love you so much, but loving someone isn’t always knowing them. If it’s okay with you, we’d like a chance to fix that now.”

Carlos stares at him, mouth open, and there is the slightest tremble of his bottom lip.

“Carlitos.”

He and Carlos turn their heads to the door where Andrea and TK stand together. Carlos smiles at his mom, the smile growing when he notices that she’s holding hands with TK.

“Mami,” he says softly.

Andrea walks towards them, tugging TK along with her. Reaching the bed, she reaches out to touch his face. “Baby,” she whispers, shaking her head as she tries not to cry. “Please never scare us like this again.”

Carlos lets out an amused huff, closing his eyes for a second. “I’ll try, Ma.”

“Good,” Andrea grins at him, amused by his tone. “And you better be ready to be smothered for a while. TK and I have been making plans. We’re not letting you out of our sight.”

“We have a shifts chart,” TK teases him, sharing a grin with Andrea.

Gabriel watches with amusement as Carlos looks scared again, this time at the team he sees being created before his very eyes. He laughs, happy and relieved, when Carlos turns to him for support.

“I wouldn’t fight it, kid,” he warns him. “You know how your mother is, and your boyfriend seems just as bad; just accept it. They’re bonded. We all have.”

Carlos looks around at all three of them, the contentment he sees in his son’s expression, a blessing, and Gabriel knows it’s going to be okay. There is still a lot of time that he and Andrea will have to make up for. Conversations that will still need to be had.

But his son is alive; he’s safe, happy, and in love with a good man. He and Andrea haven’t missed it all, and they don’t plan to miss anything else when it comes to their boy ever again.

Carlos grins at him. “I think I’m okay with that, dad.”

Gabriel smiles back. He’s okay with it too.

[lavenderwhore444]

Heyoo so I’ve been thinking about this for a while

✨ maid shigaraki✨

So imagine this ur a successful business woman god knows how many companies u own, u live in this mansion( or whatever house u want) of course u have maids and butlers, u always had liked that one maid shigaraki he was adorable and always blushing and apologizing for any mistakes he made, u always made him clean ur office just to watch him that made him super nervous he thought u were gonna fire him, not to mention every time he bent down u can see that really cute pink lacy panties u oh so love, shigaraki liked u a lot but he knows he doesn’t have a chance with u I mean look at u !!! Ur amazing and gorgeous and him will u know plus he knows he’s only a maid nothing else to u (little does he know how much u adore him), let’s say he was cleaning ur desk and drops something and breaks he panics hard ( he’s almost hyperventilating) he runs to his room to hides he knows this is his last day, u were shocked when u heard glass breaking u thought shigaraki got hurt when u came to check u found him gone ( tbh u couldn’t give a fuck what happened to that glass) u looked everywhere u didn’t find him so u called one of the butlers to get him, they finally found him, poor baby was shaking while talking to u, u were upset why was he that scared of u?? then it hit u the best idea ever he can make it up to u, u started to shush him telling him it’s ok he can make it up, he of course accepted he will do anything for u, u  brought him to ur desk and to sit on ur lap he was blushing like crazy u started to talk about how much u love him, he’s like a precious jewel (ngl that made him emotional he never thought he was that important to u)to u but u were upset that he hates u or ( u thought he didn’t like u) he panicked confessed at this point u couldn’t wait so u bend him over the desk and flapping the skirt of the dress to reveal his cute lacy panties, u wanted to punish him for breaking that glass so u spanked him for bit, at this point shigaraki was a mess moaning and whining for u to fuck him. Let’s say u never were this thankful for a glass to break

♥️Kinks as always sub shigaraki and a dom reader I would say a master kink or a mommy one u can pick and a happy ending since I don’t have it in me , loll I kind of run out of ideas for kinks , OH MAYBE U CAN PEG HIM TOO SINCE U BEND HIM OVER THE DESK, why did i think of that now anyways I hope u liked my idea as always don’t forget to drink water and get plenty of rest ♥️

-🤡

Glass

Warnings: Shiggy gets his ass eaten (as he deserves) MISTRESS KINK?! MY FIRST ONE?! anal fingering, anal penetration with toy.

By the time this is posted, I will be a fully vaccinated queen 😫🤚🏻

tbh I'm back in my mfing zone now that school is over.

InteractiveFics

Master List

Another day, another dollar. Well, another 10,000 dollars in your case. You were the image of success. You had everything you could ask for, except someone who cared about you. Who really cared about you. Money couldn't buy you love, and even if it did, you're not sure you’d want it. No, you wanted true love—the type of love you see in your home theater. But you'd never have that. Instead, everyone saw you as a walking bag of money. They felt they were guaranteed a new house and car if they kissed you well enough (they never did).

Although, there was one person that you cared about. His name was Tomura Shigaraki. You weren't mean, but truthfully you never made an effort to learn the names of the others. You had a huge crush on him. You knew it was impossible, that kind of love that only worked out in movies, and this wasn't a movie. This was real life, and real-life was harsh. All you could do was admire him, watch him work, and gaze at him lovingly. If only he knew, if only he knew how you got butterflies when you saw him.

He looked so cute when he bent down to get something. When he was hired, you had run out of male uniforms, so he was stuck in a tiny maids dress and the undergarments to match. You never mentioned it to him when you had gotten more uniforms, and he didn't ask for a new one. You were so glad he didn't, the little dress barely covered his cute butt, and the white lacy panties under it peeked out as he cleaned. He was immediately assigned to clean your office every day. No matter how clean it was, he was tasked to come in every day and dust the spotless shelves.

He seemed to hate you, though. He’d come in and clean as fast as he could and leave immediately. It broke your heart; you tried to be kind and make small talk, but he just wasn't interested. Or so it seemed. Secretly he just got so flustered when he was with you that he couldn't stand it. He was just so scared that he'd make a mess and lose his job. You looked so intimidating sitting in your big chair with your expensive clothes.

The first time he made a mistake, he was terrified. He dropped a book and froze. He was close to tears. After that, he repeatedly apologized, offering to pack his things, but you just knelt next to him and put a finger to his lips.

“It’s okay, Tomura, ” you said, “it’s just a book. Please don't worry, ”

The use of his name, his first name, gave him butterflies like never before.

“Th-thank you, ma’am, ” he stuttered.

“No need for formalities, call me y/n, ” you said, standing up to take your seat once again.

“Thank you y/n, ” he whispered.

He was frozen. God, what a beautiful name. It just rolled off his tongue so perfectly. He finished his job quickly and went back to his room. He sat there for hours just saying your name, hearing it, tasting it. You were so beautiful, so powerful in your big leather chair, looking down at the world. Because you were above them all, you were at the top. You had made it in a way no one else could dream of.

What you did next could be considered mean, but...you just had to see more of him, so you made your office a mess. He came in and was quite surprised.

“I'm so sorry, Tomura. I worked late, and things just got...well y’know, ” you said, gesturing to your office.

“Please don't be sorry! It's my job, ma’am. I mean y/n, I'm so sorry!” Shigaraki rambled.

You laughed a little “it’s alright, Tomura. You don't have to apologize for anything, ” you assured him.

“Thank you y/n, ” he said, getting right to work.

Wrappers and bottles were thrown away and recycled; what a good boy saving the earth. For once, he took his time, no longer scared of you but still self-conscious when he bent down. Maybe he should ask you for a new uniform.

“I’ll be right back, ” you said, “you're doing a great job Tomura, ”

He smiled to himself as he worked until he broke a glass. He broke one of your glasses. Oh god, no. His face fell immediately. How could he let this happen? He was doing such a good job, but he...he let you down. This was it. He was fired, and he knew it. He’d never see you again. Never hear your laugh or watch you furrow your eyebrows as you wrote. He couldn't face you. He ran to his room, already beginning to pack his things.

You rushed towards your office at the sound. What happened? Was tomura hurt? Your mind raced as you ran back. What if Tomura stepped in the broken glass? Or it cut him? You'd feel guilty forever. You slammed open the door, but he had already left. You looked in all the rooms of the floor you were currently on to no avail.

“Hey um, you, ” you called to one of the butlers standing in the hall.

“Yes, madam?”

“Could you tell me where Tomura is? Light blue hair, red eyes?” you asked.

“Yes, he ran off to his room. He looked pretty spooked, ” he replied.

You sighed in relief, “thank you, could you fetch him for me?”

“Of course, ” he nodded, walking off.

You sat impatiently in your office, waiting for him. You checked to see what had broken. Oh, the vase your ex-mother-in-law gave you. You'd have to thank him later. He stumbled into your office, crying quietly. He was shaking as he walked up to your desk, barely keeping his balance.

“I'm so sorry, ” he whimpered, “I didn't mean to, I just was cleaning, and it slipped, and I'm so sorry I messed up. I'm already halfway done packing my things. It's ok you don't have to say anything, ”

“It’s okay, ” you soothed, “I know you didn't mean to. I'm not firing you, Tomura. It's alright, ”

“I know I- what?” he stuttered, “you're not firing me?”

“Of course not. It was a harmless mistake. I've meant to get rid of it for a while anyway, ” you said, “but you still broke the glass, and I think you can make it up to me. Would that be ok?”

He nodded with tears still in his eyes, “I’ll do anything, ”

You took his hand and led him over to your desk. You sat down and patted your lap.

“Come sit, ” you said.

He sat in your lap hesitantly, not putting his full weight on you. You pulled him all the way into your lap.

“Dont be shy, ” you said.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Tomura, why don't you like me?” You asked, “you're always so distant. Can you tell me what I did? I won't be mad, ”

“What do you mean?” he asked, head whipping around to face you.

“You never talk to me. You clean so fast that I barely see you for more than five minutes, ” you explained.

You sighed and stroked his cheek, “Tomura, I like you. I like you a lot. I’d never hurt you, or yell at you, or fire you. You're so special to me. The only reason I have you clean my office is so I can see you. You're the best part of my day. I have a lot of expensive things. Jewelry, clothes, cars, but none of them are as valuable as you, ”

“I don't hate you, I promise! I just get so nervous cause you're so pretty and successful, and you probably think I'm pathetic because this is all I'm good for. I'm just a maid, and you're such a powerful woman. I just didn't want to fuck u- I'm so sorry!” he stuttered.

“Tomura, you don't have to apologize for saying fuck. Do you have any idea what I screamed at my last business meeting? It was much worse than fuck, ” you giggled.

He blushed, “thank you. What I'm trying to say is that I really like you, but I get nervous because I might mess everything up, ”

You pecked him on the cheek, “you won't mess anything up, I promise. I feel the same way. How would you like to become my um personal assistant? You could hang out with me all day, pay is good, you won't really have to do any work, ”

“I- I’d love that so much y/n, ” he beamed.

“Yeah? Alright then, but um, I like your uniform as is, ” you teased.

He blushed, covering his face. You chuckled again, leaning down to kiss up and down his neck.

“What do you think about your pretty uniform, sweetie?” you whispered, “do you like it?”

“Yes, ” he whispered back.

“Repeat after me, Tomu: yes, mistress, ” you said, looking into his bright red eyes.

His pupils dilated as he finally whispered out, “yes, mistress,”

You smashed your lips onto his as he groaned. This was his fantasy. He'd lie in bed thinking about his boss’s mistress’s lips on his. Even if it wasn't sexual, he always craved your soft sweet lips. The way you were rubbing your hands up and down his thighs, pushing the hem of his dress higher and higher, made him squirm.

“Mistress, ” he moaned, “mistress please, I want you, ”

“Yeah? You want me? You want your mistress?” you cooed.

“Yes!” he cried, “yes, mistress!”

You shoved him out of your lap and bent him over the desk. You flipped up his skirt and groaned when you saw his panties. They hugged his butt so perfectly. They stopped just under his waist, and we're swallowed up by his ass like a thong.

“Fuck, ” you groaned, “remember that glass you broke, pet?”

He cringed a little at the memory but nodded, “yes, mistress, ”

“Good boy, ” you cooed, “I'm not mad at you, sweetie, no no no, but I’d still like to punish you. Although I think you'll like what I'm going to do to you, ”

“What are you going to do to me, mistress?” he said, looking back at you while bent over your desk.

It was impeccably neat, thanks to his hard work. But, unfortunately, that desk wouldn't remain clean for long.

“I'm gonna spank you, ok, sweetie?” you said, “let me know if it's too much, ”

He nodded, “ok, mistress,”

You brought your hand down, slapping his ass, watching as he gasped but bucked into your hand. Pain and pleasure couldn't be told apart when you spanked him like that. It should hurt. He should be mad, try and get away from the pain you were inflicting on him. But he loved it. He wanted your hands everywhere; it didn't matter if they were tearing him apart or providing unbelievable pleasure. He wanted you. He wanted whatever you gave him. You were perfect. You were everything, and every touch was perfect.

“Mistress, ” he moaned, “more, harder mistress, ”

You spanked him again, this one really stung, and he loved it. All he could do was moan, drool pudding on your desk. Two spanks, and he was gone, so sensitive in the most amazing ways.

“I'm gonna fuck you like an animal Tomura Shigaraki, ” you said, raking your nails down his back, “I hope you're ready, ”

He moaned, “yes, I'm ready. I'm ready, mistress. I want you to touch me. Please don't be gentle, ”

“Oh, I didn't plan on it, sweetie, ” you whispered, spanking him again.

He groaned, thrusting desperately against the air.

“Aw, is my little pet needy?” you cooed, “do you want to feel good, Tomu?”

“Yes, ” he whimpered, “yes please, mistress, ”

“Well, ” you drawled, “since you've been such a good boy for me, I don't see why not, ”

He groaned at the praise, “yes, mistress. I'm a good boy. I'll be your good boy, ”

You reached into a drawer under the desk and pulled out a bottle of lube and a dildo.

“I’ll have to get a strap for this soon and fuck you properly with it, ” you chuckled, “remind me, will you?”

His breath caught in his throat as he saw what you pulled out. Holy fuck, he wanted that inside him immediately. He watched you lather the lube onto your fingers, had you kept your nails short just for this? It wasn't like you had to use your fingers to get yourself off. You could buy as many vibrators as you wanted and get laid whenever you pleased. Had you been fantasizing about him? He was interrupted by a finger circling dangerously close to his hole.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“We haven't even gotten started, Tomura, ” you cooed.

You pushed in slowly, letting him savor this new feeling. You got deeper end deeper, starting to thrust and curl it. It felt amazing, but this was just a warm-up. You added another finger at a sluggish pace, moving them lazily as he finally started to acclimate. Relaxing, he moaned and groaned for you, letting everything else go.

“That's my good boy, ” you muttered more to yourself than him.

He looked back at you with a beautiful expression. His eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth was hanging open as he panted like he was in heat.

“Mistress, ” he slurred, “I'm ready for more, ”

“Yeah? You ready for another finger? ” you asked.

“Want the toy, please, mistress. I'm ready, ” he moaned as you curled your fingers.

“Honey, you need to wait a while longer, okay? I don't want it to hurt, ” you soothed.

“No, I want it!” he snapped.

His eyes immediately filled with fear and yours with anger.

“What did you just say to me, ” you whispered menacingly.

“I'm sorry, ” he whimpered.

You spanked him five times in a row, hard. He cried out, tears dripping down his face. After you were done, you pulled him into your lap. He was still sniffling as you held him.

“You can't talk to me like that, Tomura, ” you said.

“I'm sorry, mistress, ” he whispered.

“It’s alright, honey, ” you said, stroking his hair, “everyone makes mistakes, ”

“You're not mad anymore, mistress?” he asked.

“I wasn't mad in the first place, Tomura. I could never get mad at you. But you can't act out like that. You need to be my good boy, remember?” you said.

“I remember, ” he nodded, “if I'm a good boy, can you still use the toy on me? Pretty please?”

“of course, why don't you clean up the desk, sweetie. You drooled all over it, Tomura, ” you said, holding back a laugh.

He blushed but got to work, and in no time, it was spotless.

“Ready to make it messy again, ” you whispered in his ear.

He kissed your neck, “yes, mistress, ”

“See, there's my good boy, ” you praised.

He hugged you, gripping your shirt in his hands. You held him tight. Even though the shirt was close to five hundred dollars, it didn't matter.

“I'm ready, ” he whispered, “for whatever you give me, ”

You let him lean over the desk again, prepping his hole with the original two fingers you had slipped in, adding a third, much to his delight.

“If you had been a good boy, I’d be fucking with my toy right now, ” you reminded him.

“I'm sorry, mistress, ” he whispered.

“It's alright, sweetie, this was a good lesson, ” you said, leaning down to kiss his neck.

He shivered; he loved how sweet your kisses were. You were such a kind mistress, and he swore to himself that he would be such a good boy for you. Only for you. You finally pulled out of him, which was a blessing and a curse. He felt so empty but knew he was bout to be filled to the brim. But to his surprise, the next thing to push into him was your tongue. You licked and sucked the sensitive area, listening to him whine and moan shamelessly.

He knew you had your office soundproofed; you had a relatively colorful vocabulary. He was panting, nails scratching down your desk. Your tongue was wet so warm, just so- oh fuck, so perfect. He loved how it felt to grind back on your face. The most powerful woman in the world was pleasuring him, loving him. What had he done to deserve something as wonderful as this? He was interrupted by a harsh slap on his ass.

“I asked you a question, Tomura. Are you ready for my toy?” you said.

“Yes, mistress, I'm ready, ” he nodded frantically.

You pumped two fingers into him a few times before making a show of lubing up the dildo. You ran your hand up and down it, squeezing and smearing the liquid around. You rubbed it up and down his asshole a couple of times before pressing gently. It slid in with ease. He was gasping, legs trembling from being stuffed full.

“Mistress, ” he gasped, “it's so good, ”

“Yeah? I'm glad, ” you laughed, “that was the goal. Would you like me to start moving it, sweetie?”

He nodded frantically, “yes, yes mistress, I want it, ”

You thrusted slowly, dragging it in and out of him. He was moaning shamelessly, wanting you to see to hear to taste to smell to touch every part of him. He trusted you with life. You sped up, and Tomura’s eyes rolled back; he bucked against your hand. He was losing it now, blabbering mindlessly about how good it felt, how pretty you are, and that he'd always be a good boy.

“You're taking it so well, sweetie, ” you praised, “cum whenever you need to. There's no rush, ”

He nodded even though he couldn't really understand what you were saying. He felt himself getting sucked deeper and deeper into a pit of absolute bliss. Then, just as he was about to slip away, the door opened.

“Miss y/n I-” your representative stuttered.

“I'm busy right now. Thank you for stopping by. I’ll notify you when I'm free, ” you smiled calmly.

Meanwhile, Tomura was the absolute opposite of calm as he fought his orgasm. He didn't want a stranger to see him cum like this! But that just served to push him deeper into his pleasure. The deeper the toy fucked him, the more he lost it until he cried out.

“Mistress! I'm c-cumming!” he moaned.

Cum shot out of his cock, splattering on the clean floor. He was panting. He had just came in front of a stranger and loved every second of it.

“Aww, look at the mess you made, honey, ” you cooed, “such a messy boy, ”

You pulled him into your lap.

“As I said, I'll contact you when I'm free, ” you said, looking at your wide-eyed representative.

He stood there in shock.

You cleared your throat, “Um, are you gonna stare or just...?”

“I'm so sorry I’ll be going sorry to interrupt, ” he stammered.

You laughed a little, looking down at Shigaraki.

“Well, someone had fun, ” you teased.

He whined in embarrassment and hid his head in your chest. You laughed again and stroked his hair. You two sat there the rest of the day, getting absolutely no work done.

[rebeccccccaaa]

Hey love! I don’t know if you’re comfortable with writing sub!bucky but if u are can u write like maybe a headcanon where ever since his tragic past bucky needs someone in his life to help him feel like he doesn’t need to carry a burden so he has a dom/sub relationship with reader. Thanks so much!! ❤️

 i freaking loveeeee this 🥰 thanks for the concept babe! i’ve never written dom!reader because i am not a dominent person lmao but hopefully i did ok and did your concept justice! sorry this took long too lolll

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut 18+ (dom!reader x sub!bucky), sad bucky, little bit of angst, mentions of PTSD, bi!reader btw ;)

So I imagine like you and Bucky are hanging out one day and you see him visibly tense.

He's like on the verge of tears. His nightmares have been getting worse, often keeping him from sleeping for hours on end.

"Hey, bud. Are you okay?" you asked.

"Uh, I uh, I'm fine. I'm just a little tired, that's all," he responded. 

“Ok,” you simply replied, not wanting to bug him.

It was quiet for a bit, the only sound was the vocal nonsense coming from the tv. Bucky awkwardly moved still visibly tensed until you had enough. You paused the movie and turned to face him.

“Come on, tell me what’s up,” you said to him.

“It’s fine. I think I just need to take a nap or something,” he said rubbing his eyes. 

“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? It’s ok, you know,” You said rubbing his shoulder.

“I don’t burden you with all my problems,” he chuckled but you didn’t laugh.

“I feel like I have all this baggage and I don’t know what to do with it. Shuri removed the words from my head and the PTSD has gotten better from what Banner has told me, but I still feel like everytime I open my mouth I’m annoying someone with my problems.”

“Bucky, what you went through would have driven anyone mad. For you to stand here now the way you are with friends who love you and care so much about you is so special. Something not everyone has.”

“I know. I know. How do I stop feeling like a burden. I need something to make feel grounded again you know?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about; and you sure know how to feel better but you don’t if that’s something he’s willing to do.

“Have you, and you can totally say no, ever thought about enetering a dom/sub relationship? I used to be in one when I got out of the Red Room, dominent of course,” you smiled.

Genuinely though, you met a gal looking for a dom. You needed a sense of control over something, anything, for once in your life.

“Did it help you?” He asked shyly.

“It made me feel better,” you responded.

“I haven’t had many partners so I wouldn’t call myself a professional but I took care of the them.” 

“Can you take care of me?” He whispered.

You stuttered after hesitating. You were extremely attracted to Bucky and being his dom wouldn’t help your case. 

“If you’re uncomfortable, doll, you can say no. I’m not the only one who has say; I mean I asked you first.”

“No, it’s just...” 

“Just what, doll?” Bucky got closer to you and you literally smell his delightful cologne that radiating off his extremely warm body. You were getting flustered.

“Bucky, I, I really like you,” you huffed, “and I don’t want to do this with no strings because that would kinda hurt too much.”

“Y/n,” Bucky practically moaned.

“I’ve spent everyday that I’ve known you dreaming about what having you in arms would be like.”

“Bucky,” you whispered against his lips.

You two bursted through the door to your room tugging at each other cothes, desperately attacking each other’s lips. You pushed Bucky down onto the bed after he stripped his shirt. 

You crawled up his body before straddling his hips. Bucky grabbed your hips but you smack them and pulled away to tell him, no touching. You grabbed his hand and placed them above his head.

“These move and I walk out, got it?”

He simply nodded.

“Yes ma’am,” you clarified.

“Yes ma’am,” he wimpered.

You moved your hips back and forth grinding against Bucky evident hard on. He whined and moaned loudly making you wetter and wetter with every passing second. 

You stepped back, making direct eye contact with Bucky who didn’t dare move an inch. Slowly and torturously you took off each pieace of clothing on your body. 

Through his sweatpants, you could see him getting harder with article coming off your body. he wimpered and whined seeing your full body in display naked in all it’s glory. 

You picked up your nude lace panties and walked over to Bucky smirking like the devil. You stuffed your panties in Bucky mouth and he gladly bit down on them.

“Not a fucking sound,” you purred in his ear.

You pulled his pants down along with his boxers, then climbed back to your rightful spot settled on his hips. You lined yourself over his erected cock and slid down slowly since he was considerably bigger than any of your past partners. 

You moaned as you moved up and down boucning his cock. You even at one point moaned extra loud just to spite the gorgeous being under you because you had told him you’d leave if he made a noise.

Bucky heavily panted underneath you tears formed in his eyes; not a single sound came out of him though. You were impressed. His hips thrusted upwards to meet in time with your bouncing. 

You chased your oragsm, skin slapping eachoing in the room. Bucky started grunting but you couldn’t care less at this point. Euhporia was washing over you.

You fell forward pulling your panties out of Bucky’s mouth. He wrapped his arms around and you kicked the blanket over yourselves with your feet; Bucky pulling the rest of way up. 

“Maybe next time we can use my toybox,” you kissed his neck.

“Your what-?”

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 18: Girl’s Night (Heroes/Villains)

AO3

Prev

First

Teleporting back into her room in Gotham, Marinette flops onto her bed. Passing Kaalki sugar cubes and Tikki a cookie, she suppresses the urge to scream into her pillow. She was sick and tired of Hawkmoth. Sick and tired of being the one who has to fix everything. She just wanted one week with no Hawkmoth, no akuma attacks. But no. Of course not. Of course he just had to send out a stupid akuma every single day. Because why not. How’re people supposed to know he’s still being the main villain of Paris if he takes a freaking day off? Once she finds out who he is, she’s going to punch him in his stupid face. A knock on her door pulls her from her plotting ways to get back at Hawkmoth. 

“Come in.” She sighs, sitting up and forcing a tired smile on her face. 

“Marinette, your father wanted-” Selina starts, pausing as she looks her over. “Come on kitten, we’re having a girls day.” She says. Marinette raises an eyebrow. Sure she’d met Selina before, but they hadn’t really hung out yet. 

“What?” She asks. 

“You look exhausted and angry, sweetheart. Spending too much time with these boys isn’t going to help. So you’re gonna grab anything you need for an overnight trip and we’re going to go watch movies and eat junk food til we’re sick.” Selina instructs. Marinette grins, jumping up and shoving stuff into her backpack. She puts Kaalki’s glasses into her purse and lets her and Tikki fly in before she turns to Selina. 

“Ready!” She says, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. It’d been ages since she’d had a girls day with anyone. She was so ready to just take a break and be silly. 

“Well come on then. Harley and Ivy are going to adore you.” Selina says, slinging her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Somehow, they manage to not see anyone on the way to Selina’s car. Which is weird, but it is a weekday so everyone probably had something to do besides sit around the manor. Pulling away from the manor, Selina flips on the radio, the new Jagged Stone song blasting full volume.

“Nice taste in music.” Marinette says with a wide grin. Selina smirks. 

“I have to like the man at least a little, his designer is one of my kids after all.” She says. Marinette smiles, a warm feeling flooding through her. Selina didn’t have to accept her with open arms, she didn’t have to treat her like she was her own daughter. But she did, and Marinette was so thankful for that. Thankful that even so far away from her Maman, she still had a Mom there for her. The two nod along to the music, scream singing the chorus together as the car pulls to a stop in front of an apartment building. Marinette glances at the building, suddenly nervous. Would Harley and Ivy like her? Or would they just tolerate her for Selina. 

“Don’t make yourself nervous, sweetheart. Harley and Ivy are two of the sweetest people I know. They’re gonna love you.” Selina says reassuringly, reaching over and squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette lets out a breath before nodding. 

“Okay, let’s go.” She says, grabbing her bag and jumping out of the car. She follows closely behind Selina, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get between them. You could never be too careful in Gotham. They walk into the building and go straight into the elevator, Selina pushing the button and leaning up against the wall while they wait. Marinette bounces on the balls of her feet, excitement and nerves bundling together. The second the elevator stops, Marinette’s out, following Selina down the hall. She pulls out a key, winking at Marinette before turning and unlocking the door. 

“Honey, I’m home!” She calls, and Marinette’s jaw drops. The apartment was quite literally covered in plants and vines. They were beautiful. She grins as one of the vines near her leans towards her, a small flower blooming at the end of it. 

“And who did you bring with you?” A tall woman with red hair asks, walking into the room. The designer inside of Marinette instantly has a million questions about the woman’s outfit. It seemed to be made entirely of plants, but she could also tell that they were still alive. She had no idea how the woman had managed that, but she guessed that it was something that couldn’t be replicated for someone else. 

“I’m Marinette. Nice to meet you!” She says with a wide smile. The woman, who Marinette assumes is Ivy, grins back. 

“Nice to meet you, Flower. I see you’ve already made a friend.” She says, gesturing to the vine which was now wrapped around Marinette’s wrist. Marinette giggles. 

“Well, I was hoping they liked me and that’s what this was. I have a garden back in Paris, and I’d hate to find out plants actually hate me.” She says. Ivy shakes her head. 

“No worries there. They adore you, it’s a little odd if I’m honest.” Ivy says, dodging Selina who tries to flick her. 

“Did I hear Selina?” Another voice asks, a short blonde woman walking into the room. Her hair was short and choppy, the small pigtails at the top of her head dyed pink. Marinette grinned at the woman’s outfit- a Gotham Amusement Pier t-shirt, Batman pajama pants, and hot pink fuzzy socks. She wondered if her dad knows that Harley Quinn has Batman pj pants….probably not. 

“Yes, with a guest.” Selina says, plopping onto the couch and gesturing over to Marinette, who was still standing by her new vine friend. 

“Hi! I’m Marinette, it’s nice to meet you.” She says, smiling and waving with her free hand. Ivy whispers something and the vine squeezes a bit before letting go, letting her move away from the door. 

“Well aren’t ya just the cutest!” Harley squeals, running forward and giving her a big hug. “Didjya finally join your boytoy’s adopting habits?” Harley adds, still clutching onto Marinette. Selina snorts. 

“No, he beat me to her. But she’s definitely mine, too.” She says, making Marinette’s face turn red. Harley coos at her, ruffling her hair before stepping back. 

“So what brings ya here? Get annoyed with Bats already?” Harley asks. Marinette blinks in shock. Harley knows? She thinks about it for a minute, and realizes it just makes sense. They’d been fighting long enough and then he started his relationship with Selina, who was one of Harley’s best friends. It just made sense that Harley (who was extremely smart) would put two and two together. 

“No, just thought that Mari could use a girl’s day. She’s been stuck with just the boys for over a week.” Selina explains. Harley gasps. 

“The horror!” She says, making Marinette giggle. “Come on pumpkin, I’ve got the comfiest jammies ever. Oooo, and we can paint our nails! Ivy, find the movies, Selina, you’re on snacks. This is gonna be so much fun!” Harley orders, grabbing Marinette’s hand and tugging her along to one of the bedrooms, Selina’s laugh echoing throughout the apartment. 

“I did bring pjs, ma’am.” Marinette says, once Harley stops tugging her and starts searching through a drawer. 

“Bet that can’t be comfier than the ones I’ve got for ya! And call me Harley kiddo, or Auntie Harley if ya wanna.” She says, looking up from the drawer to smile widely. She looks back and cheers in victory, pulling out a pair of bright red pajama pants. Marinette snorts when she notices the logo all over the pants. 

“Really?” She asks, giggling. Harley smirks. 

“We’ll have to take a picture of us and send it to your old man. Really get ‘im riled up.” She says. Marinette nods excitedly, taking the Robin pants from Harley. This was gonna be awesome. 

---

Bruce sighs, looking at the news report from Paris from earlier. The damned butterflies were hard to track. He was used to figuring out problems quickly, and this one was taking too long for comfort. It wouldn’t bother him as much if it was anywhere else, but it was directly impacting his daughter. She was being hurt daily, and she’d even died and now she was plagued with nightmares. All because of a man with some magic jewelry. God, he hated magic. A knock on the study door stirs him from his thoughts. 

“Come in.” He says.

“Hey B, have you seen Mari? I was gonna ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with me and Little D.” Dick asks, leaning against the door frame, Damian standing next to him with his arms crossed.

“Not since breakfast. There was another akuma attack earlier, but it wasn’t a bad one. She wasn’t injured.” He says, remembering the completely strange battle from earlier. It was some man with pigeons, and apparently this was the 34th time the man had been akumatized over pigeons. 

“Did you not check her room after the battle?” Damian asks, eyebrow quirked. Bruce sighs. 

“It was the pigeon one again. I assumed that she’d want to take a nap, if anything. She still hasn’t been sleeping well. Tim said she’s awake every morning when he comes up for coffee, whether it’s three or five, she’s up.” Bruce explains, frowning at the thought of his youngest daughter’s sleep habits. He certainly didn’t need another sleep deprived coffee addict like Tim. It wasn’t healthy. 

“Well I already checked her room. She wasn’t there.” Dick says, and Bruce frowns, pulling out his phone to send a text to Tim and call Jason. One of them had to have seen her. She never left the house without telling one of the family, unless it was for a battle. 

“What.” Jason says gruffly, Bruce is just grateful he answered. Up until a couple of months ago, Jason would have rather thrown his phone in the river than answer one of Bruce’s calls. 

“Have you seen Marinette?” He asks, getting straight to the point.

“No? Why? What’s wrong?” Jason asks, and Bruce hears shuffling as Jason rushes around wherever it is he is. 

“Nothing. I’ll call you back.” He says, hanging up. He glances down at his texts and notices Tim hasn’t seen her either. He frowns, but doesn’t panic yet. Pulling out his computer, he pulls up the tracker that was on each of his children’s phones. He scans the map, frowning when he sees that her phone is still in the manor. In her room. He stands and swiftly moves past his sons to get to his daughter’s room. He knocks, waiting for an answer. None. 

“Marinette?” He calls, knocking again. “I’m opening the door.” He warns, pushing it open. He frowns at the empty room, nothing appearing out of place. 

“Do you think she had to pop back to Paris for something?” Dick asks, coming up behind him. Bruce shakes his head. 

“No, she would have told us. Suit up, she has to be somewhere in-” He stops as his phone chimes. He looks at it and feels all of the tension leave his shoulders. 

Took our youngest daughter for a girl’s day, back tomorrow XO. Of course Selina had her. 

“She’s with the Sirens. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Bruce says, suppressing a smile at the annoyed look on his youngest’s face. She was safe, and that’s what matters. Even if he was certain he’d have to listen to Damian complain for the entirety of patrol. 

---

“Make all the boy moose go WAAAAAAAAA!” Harley says with the movie, laughing loudly. Marinette chuckles, passing Tikki a cookie in her purse before sticking another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. 

“I still like the first one more.” Selina says, taking a sip of her wine. Harley sticks her tongue out at her before turning her attention back to the movie. 

“Do you think Mia is secretly a superhero?” Marinette asks, frowning in thought. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Ivy asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even Harley pauses the movie to turn and stare at her. 

“Stan Lee.” Marinette says with a shrug. 

“Is that s’posed to mean something to me, kid? Cause I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Harley says, obviously confused. Marinette huffs. 

“Stan Lee makes a cameo in this movie. And Stan Lee is the creator of Marvel, right? He’s made a cameo in like, every single Marvel movie. So is Mia secretly a superhero? Is that why he’s in the movie?” Marinette rambles, almost flinging ice cream at Selina as she gestures crazily. 

“Sweetie, how much sleep have you had in the past three days?” Selina asks after a few moments of silence. 

“Not important. Is Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia, also a superhero? Does she secretly work for SHIELD? Or is she more like Iron Man, like a freelance superhero? Was she a hero in San Francisco too? Or did she take over a hero's mantle when she moved to Genovia? Cause she was really clumsy in the first movie and also super awkward, but now she’s less clumsy and she seems to be more put together, but are heroes really put together? I don’t think so. I think sometimes heroes pretend that they’re put together to make everyone else feel better when in all reality they’re seconds away from a breakdown themselves. Is Stan Lee coming to recruit her for SHIELD? Is that why he’s in Genovia? Does SHIELD have any jurisdiction there? Is there a Genovian branch of SHIELD?” Marinette rambles, suddenly stuck on the topic. Seriously, why is Stan Lee in Princess Diaries 2 if Mia isn’t a hero? Why would he-

“Kitten, take a breath.” Selina says, her hands on Marinette’s shoulders helping her to ground herself. Marinette takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She blinks a few times, instantly feeling bad. 

“I’m so sorry.” She says, frowning. 

“What for?” Harley asks, looking confused. 

“For ruining girl’s night.” She says quietly. Selina pulls her into a tight hug and Marinette sinks into it. 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t know everything that’s going on. But what I do know, is that you rambling out a conspiracy theory about the movie we’re watching is not ruining girl’s night. Trust me. One time, we invited your brother Dick, and he ate all of the cookies by himself.” Selina says, Marinette snorts. Of course he did. “Now that’s a way to ruin girl’s night.” She adds, squeezing her once more before leaning back.

“Let's watch something that we can just get lost in and not have to think at all.” Ivy suggests, looking through the stack of dvd’s. Marinette glances over, eyes instantly catching one of her favorite movies. 

“Legally Blonde?” She suggests, Harley squeals. 

“That’s it, you’re officially ours. Brucie can fight me.” She says, putting in the dvd. Marinette laughs, laying her head on Selina’s shoulder, grabbing a handful of popcorn. She could get used to nights like these.

Next Chapter

Bonus chapter: Harley Vs Bruce

Drawing of Harley and Mari’s pajamas

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[sylverstorms]

Miss Fortune x Reader ----Salt-Crusted Heart

For an easier read, head to Ao3.

Another day. Another hunt for a fetter.

Feels like this is your life now, your present and your future. It feels like this war against the ever-spreading mist and Viego will never end. Your days as a trainee Sentinel, where the tough schedule of the Academy was your only problem, seem so far away now it’s like they belong in a dream. Like that was a different you.

And it was, wasn’t it.

That ‘you’ hadn’t ever slashed at anything other than a training dummy. Now you’re out here –with a very dysfunctional crew of lunatics— fighting mist monsters.

Said dysfunctional crew is, once again, arguing amongst themselves on which way you’re supposed to be headed next. Everyone’s got their own opinion and somehow it never matches with anyone else’s. You don’t even know how they manage that.

It takes a few light years for the majority to agree you’re heading to Bilgewater.

By the time you Wayfinder them there, you’re not surprised that all you see is darkness and sickly green mist. Half the world has gone to shit already and you’ve come to terms with that. More or less. Probably less.

“Wow.” you say as you take in the ghostly-looking town ahead of you and the armada of ships at the port below, blocking this side of the island off completely. Not that there’s a lot to block because the place is a ravaged hellhole anyway.

The environment has this wrecked, haunted vibe that would be super interesting to see in a movie with an apocalypse theme. Perhaps not so much on an actualapocalypse, though.

“Likin’ the view?” Graves asks, the corner of his lips sealed over his cigar.

“No, it was more of a ‘this is so much worse than I could have imagined’ type of wow.” you explain.

“It really is.” Riven agrees.

“Funny thing; the mist ain’t changed it all that much.” Graves laughs.

“Hey. Focus.” Lucian chastises. This guy, you’re convinced, is allergic to lightening the mood. He’s also not someone you dare say this to. “See that?” he points at the sea, to the massive ship there, towering over the rest.

You’re so focused on its fine craftsmanship and the little details you keep finding the longer your eye remains on it, you miss his point entirely, at first. Then you blink and look closer –at the thin, telltale trail of green-black smoke floating upwards from its deck.

There’s no mistaking it; a fetter is on that vessel.

“Now, listen up, everybody. Big Ol’ Graves is a legend around these parts, so my name will get us on that beauty. But. People here can be a bit… unfriendly towards new faces.” he begins. “Let’s not walk up there like an attack force and end up riddled with holes, ye?”

“Good idea.” you nod.

“Rookie, Graves, you’re heading up first.” Lucian motions with his chin.

“Bad idea.” you comment, but his skewering glare has you agreeing with the plan the same second.

“Signal if you need help.” Senna adds.

Graves only laughs heartily and grabs your uniform with his large hands, pulling you along. You know you won’t like what you hear when he leans down and whispers to you:

“We won’t have time to signal if they decide we’re not worth listening to but let’s not tell them that, Rook.”

“That’s… just what I needed to hear.” you grimace.

“Ha! Which means you’re goin’ up first. Chances are they won’t instantly shoot your pretty face off.”

“Wait… what about that ‘my name will get us up there, no trouble’?” you ask.

“Hah! That was just to impress Vayne, kiddo. My name is far more likely to get us killed in these parts.” he laughs but you don’t. “Did she look impressed?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, she didn’t, mate.” Nothing has ever moved Vayne other than when she kills monsters in a particularly violent way.

“Ah, shit. Maybe next time.”

Yeah, if there is a next time.

Your chances aren’t looking good as soon as you step onto that deck and every weapon imaginable is suddenly shifted to you.

…

Graves tells you to put your ‘social skills’ into good use. You are not aware that was one of your talents, so it’s probably more of his bullshit. Either way, death by a thousand bullets gives you a solid motivation to turn the charm on and talk.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure we can all come to an agreement here. No need for all that firepower.” you say, totally not sweating at all underneath your white jacket. “You have something that we need and I’m sure we can negotiate a profitable deal for everyone.”

Jackpot. Bounty hunters want money more than anything. And there is not a sweeter sound to their ears than the promise of wealth. Even if you’re just talking nonsense to save your ass.

“If I could just speak to the captain—”

“The captain is listening.” a commanding voice says from up ahead. Some of the crew members part to let her through…

And.

You see a vision in this nightmare.

The woman that walks forward stands out like fire over water, like stark color on Bilgewater’s salt-washed palette. Maybe it’s the vivid red of her flowing hair, stark against the gold-trimmed black of her hat, or the emerald green of her eyes, or the way she holds herself, a queen on this deck. Whatever the reason, you cannot tear your gaze off of her.

Tongue-tied at the moment, you let Graves do the talking. Big mistake.

The goddess’ visage darkens when she sees your company, who she addresses in a less than pleasant tone: “Look what washed in with the tide. Malcolm Goddamn Graves.” You wouldn’t want that glare directed at you, ever.

“Fortune? Ah, hells, naw.” he curses. “What are ya doin’ here? How did ya get a whole damn fleet a’ warships?”

“A lot has changed since we last met. Fools around here decided to challenge me for control over Bilgewater. I locked this place down until we can resolve this inconvenience.” she says, like cutting off half the freaking island is not a big issue.

The sound of her heels on the wooden floor is downright ominous as she approaches. Her eye scans you lightning-quick, then the entirety of her attention is on Graves. The very next second…

A blunderbuss pistol is pointing right to your face, same as his.

“Whoah.” you gasp.

“What’s Gankplank paying you?!” she demands.

“I ain’t workin’ for that bastard! I ain’t even on speakin’ terms with his orange-eatin’ ass! Ya know that!”

“What I know is you came onto my deck with fancy new equipment and a whole team of mercenaries at your back. You know, just in case you thought you were being subtle, in all that silver and white sticking out in Bilgewater like a sore thumb.” She has a point. “That getup isn’t cheap and there’s only one cretin around here with that kind of coin. Now tell me what he’s planning, of you’ll be smoking that cigar through a new hole.”

“Um –ma’am? He’s telling the truth.” You almost regret speaking up when her piercing stare lands on you. “And we’re not mercenaries. We’re Sentinels of Light.” you add.

“You put on a convincing performance, cutie.” she says.

In any other scenario, a goddess like that calling you cute would make you blush. But the gun still very much in your face makes it difficult to really register the word.

“Like you’ve never heard of the ‘Saltwater Scourge’, ‘Reaver King of the High Seas’… ‘Scum-sucking Hagfish Who Takes All You Ever Cared About’…”

Oh, okay. So, she’s got a screw loose as well.Not surprising considering the company you attract, lately.

“Nope. Kiddo’s right, Sarah. They’re Sentinels, alright.” the very familiar voice of your boss, which normally doesn’t make you happy to hear, has the opposite effect now. Lucian walks up behind you to save the day.

“Lucian?” she asks, finally lowering her weapons. “…this is your crew?”

“Yep. And I’d appreciate it if you kindly refrained from killing them. Need about every gun we can get.” he replies.

“Follow me.” she says. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

…

Captain Fortune does not drive an easy bargain.

From what you hear later, she’s given Lucian a real hard time with negotiations. And even now, she’s the one who holds all the cards.

If you are to defeat Viego and make it clear to Bilgewater it was her who made it possible, she is willing to trade with the fetter and even let you stay on her ship in the meantime. Otherwise, if she gets the feeling it’s him who gains ground and holds the power in this place, you’re basically screwed.

The others are uneasy. They’ve suggested multiple times you steal the fetter from Fortune and dash for your lives after. Thing is, with how close she keeps that relic, that plan is looking impossible.

Which brings you to where you are right now, all the Sentinels and Miss Fortune gathered around the same map, planning your next action.

“Yes, but if I help you get there, what’s in it for me?” she asks.

And really, you don’t have anything to offer her in return. Even Lucian looks to Senna for help. Who, in turn, looks at you.

Why do they keep doing that? What have you done to convince these people you are good at talking? Especially to women like the captain.

“How about the… moral reward of helping save people from these monsters?” you suggest.

Her green eyes –and holy shit are they green— look at you like she wants to both scoff and laugh sardonically. “Tell me that is a joke.”

“It –it really isn’t.” you reply.

She huffs. “Look. I’m sure you’re all nice people. But nice people here get their throats cut.” She motions with her hand. “The cutthroats get the spoils. That’s how it works. I only care about the spoils.” she states. “So, if you want things from me and my crew, you need to make it worth our time.”

Their time sure isn’t cheap.

You know you don’t have anything at Headquarters with the kind of value she’s looking for. Definitely no coin and no gold for her services. But. You’ve heard multiple times during classes that the materials the Sentinel outfits are weaved from are extremely durable and therefore, extremely desirable.

“Would you and your crew be interested in a wardrobe overhaul?” you ask. All eyes are on you, but hers are the most intense. “Every prestigious fleet has to look the part, no? Plus, these clothes…” you say, grabbing the nearest knife and dragging it across your sleeve. The fabric is not so much as scratched. “…are pretty cool.” you tell her.

Miss Fortune leans back in her captain’s chair with a pretty smile painted on her –very attractive— lips.

“Now you’re talking my language, cutie. I’m sure we can work something out.”

…

On one hand, you have Gwen sewing day and night –your fault, you feel bad for it— while the rest of you handle the fighting. On the other, you do have a ship taking you wherever you need and making your job of clearing the darkness ten times faster.

Even Lucian has given you a pat on the back for that one. That was certainly unexpected.

“We need Fortune to take us here.” Senna points on the map. “Rookie, you go tell her.”

You almost choke on your water. “Why me?” you ask.

“Because you’re finally making yourself useful.” Lucian replies. Ouch.

“I’ve been very useful from the start!” you argue. The others look amongst themselves. “Hey!”

“I mean… points for effort.” Diana comments.

“Moral support is useful, I agree.” Riven smirks at you.

‘Asshole’ you mouth, rising from your seat. Her grin only widens.

You send them a narrowed, unimpressed look over your shoulder on your way out. Some of the crew members that see you walking towards the captain’s cabin whistle your way. You’re sure there’s tons of colorful comments behind your back but you have bigger things to worry about.

Like… the way a certain redhead looks leaned back in her plush chair, a queen on her throne, toying with a gold coin that flips over her nimble fingers with effortless ease. Focus on the mission. The mission, I say. Oh, Gods…

“I love how they send you in to ask for extra.” she says. “So. Are you the silver tongue of the group?” There’s something in her little smirk and the way she says ‘tongue’ that gets to you, but that’s probably just your vivid imagination.

That and the months you’ve spent without any outlet for your stress other than fighting, on top of more fighting.

“No, the others are just that terrible at basic social interactions.” It’s the truth.

Fortune gives a small chuckle. “Let’s see how good you are, then, Sentinel.”

You pleadwith your hopeless lesbian brain not to fry on the spot. “We sort of need you to get us further than discussed. While hoping that… the scenic route will be its own reward?”

“Cute.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” you perk up.

“No.”

“I’ll send Lucian here next time so he can bore you to death until you agree.” You never claimed to be above blackmail.

“A bold statement.” she replies. “Tell you what. If you demolish a few of my enemies’ ships during your hunt for the mist things, then deal.”

Sentinels aren’t supposed to do that. And if you tell Lucian, that will be his exact answer. You can already hear his unpleasant voice in your head. However, you’ve already figured out the world doesn’t work by the Sentinel Code, so…

“Accidents do happen on the battlefield.” you say.

Sarah gives you that slow smile that makes a certain part of you feel hot under your outfit. “And don’t bring any of the others in here to negotiate. I’d rather look at your pretty face.”

Uh.

Um.

By the time you exit the cabin, all you can think is, what just happened?

…

Combat is a rush, sometimes. As is knowing you’re getting stronger and faster by the day. You still don’t hold a candle to the rest of your group, but you can finally say you’re helping them out.

Being further up in the enemy’s face, though, is also petrifying. You see a twisted reflection of yourself in every mist wraith’s dead eyes. There are nightmares that come hand-in-hand with the experience… and then there’s physical pain.

You’ve been hurt before. Their talons can slice through even your magic-reinforced outfits. Still, every time feels worse than the last. The laceration you’re currently sporting on your side is burning like the fires of hell.

You’re trying not to scream by the time Riven lowers you onto the deck. Your vision is blurred with sweat and the tears you’re fighting to keep at bay.

“What’s going on here?” you hear Fortune’s voice in your haze.

“Tell me you have a healer on board!” Riven shouts.

“And they can get here fast!” Senna adds.

You’re not sure how much time passes. It feels like light years until someone kneels beside you and starts working on your wound. The healing magic pulls and sears at you. Every muscle in your body is taut with the effort to keep still.

“Isn’t …a healing spell supposed to numb the pain, first?” Diana asks.

“Look, blondie, I’m no professional here, ye? Just picked up a few things from mah old man. If ya wanna criticize, come here and do it yourself.” he answers. And it’s …not the best feeling in the world to hear your healer say that.

“No offense. Just worried for our teammate.” Senna adds. At least one of your bosses cares about your wellbeing.

The other just benches you for the next mission.

…

Out of all the people you expected to come see you while you’re recovering, Sarah Fortune is the last who came to mind. You’re almost shocked mute when the captain comes to sit on the edge of your bed, graceful and fluid as ever. Gorgeous as ever, too, while you’re sure you look pale as a ghost, eyes sunken as a shipwreck.

“Hey, Rookie.” she greets.

“Ah, great. That nickname’s never gonna come off, is it.” you roll your blue eyes.

“How’s the battle scar?”

“I’m not bleeding all over your fancy deck anymore, at least.” you say. “Guess I should be glad for that.” Although you are a bit frustrated that the ‘healer’s’ hand was so shaky there’s a scar left there now, permanently, when it could have been avoided. “And that the dude wasn’t drunk bad enough to stitch my organs to my skin.”

“Yeah, luckily he was only a little drunk.” she nods.

“That makes total sense for a healer. Who, from what I know from four years at the Academy, should always be sober.” you cannot keep it in any longer.

“That’s… a tall order here.” Yes, of course, the place is far too shitty for that.

“I gathered.”

“Come, now. Don’t be upset about the scar.” You’re upset about the pain that could have been avoided if the damn guy just didn’t drink his ass off in the middle of the day. “…Want me to kiss it better?”

You’re so far up your mind –filled with thoughts of being a dead weight on the team on top of your dead classmates because of Viego— you don’t even hear her. Your head is pounding from the pressure the memory causes you, a killer mix with the effect of the painkillers you’ve been on, all evening.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” you reply, your voice hoarse and alien to your own ears.

…

You and Fortune talk a bit more on the two days you’re out of commission.

You learn a few things about her, like the fact you have a common interest in psychology. Like the fact you shouldn’t ever ask about her past or her family, unless you want her to close up tighter than a clam, at the speed of lightning. In the meantime, if it feels like she may be throwing more smirks your way than when she talks to anyone else, you blame that on your wishful thinking.

That woman is way out of your league.

It is one in the night and everyone on the ship is either well asleep or completely passed out from booze. You wake up from a nightmare, then fully register the way the ship is swaying from the angry waves. The resulting nausea has you completely losing the desire to fall back into the land of dreams.

You thought you’d be the only one awake when you walked up to the deck, yet you quickly realize that’s not the case when the sound of heels approaches from behind. You already know it’s her. The night breeze does a wonderful job of carrying her perfume straight to your nose. As if she wasn’t already fatally attractive without it.

You keep your eyes on the waves, so dark blue they look black.

“Oh, this is a surprise. Such a romantic soul, admiring the sea in the dead of night.” she says. The slight –sexy as fuck— slur to her words must have something to do with the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Yeah, my thoughts are not that deep.” you chuckle. “More like ‘fuck this constant motion under my feet’.”

She gives a small, airy exhale that could pass as a laugh, leaning on the railing next to you. Kind of close, too. “Ah and here I thought Sentinels didn’t swear.” she says. “And that they don’t drink. Unless you care to prove me wrong there, too.”

She takes a swing of the bottle and passes it to you. The smart part of your brain tells you it is a bad, bad idea. The rest of you is seduced by the promise of the buzz and the challenge in her eyes.

Well. Since you’re not really getting anywhere closer to where her lips are in anything other than your very private fantasies, you think may just take the chance for an indirect kiss that’s presented.

The gulp you take from the bottle –you intended a sip but the fucking ship moves so much— burns a trail down your throat and past your insides. You almost cough. How heavy is this thing?

“Ahem. So.” you begin. “What’s keeping you out late?”

“I have great company.” At first you think she means you, then you realize it’s the bottle that’s lucky. Hah, fell right into that one. “And… my cabin is very cold tonight.”

It’s really chilly, yeah, but it’s not that bad, you think. Maybe the two of you are just used to different climates, though. “I’m… sorry to hear that.” you reply.

“Well. Guess I should head in or it will never warm up by itself.” she says.

You nod and bid her goodnight, turning your eyes back to the inky waves. But then you feel her weight softly crash into your back, ample chest pressing against you, one of her hands on your waist and the other on the railing next to yours for support. Her lips are right by your ear, so close you feel them brush against the shell as she says:

“Oops.”

Then she’s gone, taking her extremely sexy perfume with her, while your stomach drops to the sea and sinks right to the very bottom. It takes a few moments to realize you’re still holding the railing so tightly your fingers have gone white.

What the…

You go back to bed trying not to think about whatever that was.

The next day, you have no idea why she’s not speaking to you at all, or why she doesn’t even look at you when she addresses the Sentinels, none-too-pleased with your progress.

…

When one of the crewmates tell you the captain has summoned you, you do a double take and ask if she really means you. Fortune has been in a weird mood towards you since that night, to say the least.

You are mentally braced for the worst when you enter her cabin. You’re already tired from fighting mist wraiths all morning and you don’t think you can handle whatever it is that’s going on with her at the moment.

Scratch that. You’re sure you can’t when she gets up from her seat, walking almost in a circle around you, like a shark. You lean back against the wooden surface of her desk, waiting. Cautious.

“Have I not been clear enough, all these days?” she asks, as if wondering out loud.

“Um…. excuse me?” you question back. Has the mist gotten to her? It has been known to cause strange behavior after prolonged exposure.

She’s at the door now, facing you without really looking at you and it makes you feel trapped. Your one escape is blocked. “You’re not from around here, so I thought it was best not to be… Bilgewater-forward.” she says. “On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve been that subtle?”

“…I’m. I’m not…sure I follow.” you speak, quietly.

“Do you really have no idea or are you just trying to be polite?” She finally looks into your eyes.

You shake your head ‘no’.

She licks her lips. “What, was I supposed to give you a formal letter inviting you to my cabin for sex the other night?” Your jaw, you think, hits the floor and shatters. Your whole body shivers and goes rigid. “If you don’t want to, just say it so I won’t wait around for nothing.”

You… don’t know what words are at the moment. The ground has disappeared and you’re a falling mess. It is the worst case of freezing on the spot you’ve ever experienced.

“That’s not… that’s not… the case.” you manage to say.

“Good to know.” she nods, casually, then strides up to you and grabs the front of your high-collared Sentinel jacket, bringing you lip-to-lip. “Is this clear enough for you?” she breathes against you.

It’s more than clear enough when her plump lips seal over yours, tasting of sweet-flavored lipstick and alcohol and sea-salt. In fact, it is clear like a nuclear bomb going off on the back of your head.

The heat wave burns down your stomach violently and it only gets worse when she pushes her tongue into your mouth, licking over yours, her hips practically straddling you with how tightly fitted you stand. Every movement of her mouth or her body echoes all the way down yours.

It’s beyond anything you could have ever conjured in your head, having her angle your chin however she wants it while her hips slowly rock against you. It’s almost too hard and too fast and too good –and you get too close.

But then—

A knock comes on the door.

“Captain?” someone asks from the outside and it’s both a blessing and a dark curse.

Sarah tries to catch her breath, every exhale tickling your ear. “One moment.” she calls over her shoulder, sounding every bit the captain she is, as if the past minutes where you were literally dry humping each other didn’t happen.

She pulls back from you with a satisfied little smirk at how wrecked you no doubt look, pulling your outfit straight. Her thumb wipes off the smudge of her lipstick on the corner of your mouth, then she goes to a nearby mirror to reapply hers.

When she walks back over to you, your knees shake at just the sight of her. You don’t know how you’ll ever calm down from this. Safe to say she’s ruined every kiss you’ve ever had or will have.

“My bedroom will be open to you tonight. Consider this your formal letter, yes?” her long fingers brush over your jawline, as she stalks back to her seat.

“Come in.” she calls, poker face on, sounding bored.

You make your escape as tactical –and dignified— as possible and don’t look back until you’re practically off the ship.

…

To say you are distracted for the rest of the hours until night completely settles over Bilgewater is an understatement. Your head is in the clouds and you have no idea what’s going on around you. The whole world could catch fire and all you’ll be thinking about is Fortune, Fortune, Fortune…

“What’s got you so quiet tonight, little Sentinel?” Riven asks.

Only the best damn kiss of your entire life. Plus the fact you’re living a dream and you don’t want to wake up. “Maybe I’m just trying to imitate Vayne. From now on you’ll hear my voice only when we kill stuff.”

“Ha, ha.” Vayne comments in typical Vayne style from her seat, hunched over her weapon and making calibrations.

“All I’ll say is, be careful.” the Noxian lowers her voice a bit, the words kept between the two of you.

“Of what?” you play dumb.

“Just in general.”

You don’t know what Riven suspects but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been through a lot these past months. You deserve to feel something good once in a while. Your love life is none of their business unless it interferes with their business, which it won’t because you’re sure this won’t mean anything beyond Fortune’s bedroom.

You wait until everyone on the ship is asleep and take a liquid courage boost to sneak to the captain’s cabin.

…

One knock. That is all your knuckles manage, one contact with the door, until it swings open and a familiar hand grabs at the front of your outfit, pulling you in.

You’re pressed back against it as soon as it shuts, crimson lips hot on yours before you can even think to say anything. Gods, is she always so insistent?You could melt into a wet puddle on the floor from the way she presses into you alone. This woman knows exactly what she wants and how to take it.

Somewhere in the back of your head you hear the sound of a lock turning.

“Took you long enough.” she whispers when you break apart.

Once again, whatever you were about to say is cut off by her tugging on the high collar of your jacket. She either has a thing for it or for pulling you around in general, you think. No complains, whatever the case.

“Won’t you give me the tour around, first?” you ask, playing coy only thanks to the drink you’ve had. Otherwise, you’d be your usual self; a mess.

“Oh, sure.” she says as she shoves you into her bedroom, illuminated by a single candle. “Wardrobe, guns, bed.”

Well. It still feels like the best tour you’ve ever had when she walks you back until you’re falling on her very comfortable mattress, with her perched above you like a predator. She gives you a little smirk as she straddles your thigh and sits up, undoing the taut buttons on her shirt, painfully slow.

Oh… It would be very awkward if you died from a heart attack now, yet it feels like you’re on the verge of one.

“Nothing smart to say now, Sentinel?” The confidence comes with her looks, you’re sure. She knows she’s hot as fuck.

You shake your head, speechless, eyes travelling from her toned midriff to her perfect chest, to her hypnotic eyes and the sensual way her hair spills like a red waterfall across her shoulders. This is a dream, it’s not real life, but don’t wake me up ever…

Fortune leans back down, taking your chin in two fingers as she studies your flushed face. You don’t know what she’s looking for, but something in her visage softens a fraction.

“If it’s too much at any point, tell me.”

“If I can talk, I will.” you say, mesmerized by the way her eyes look under the dim light.

Your next liplock is a little less rushed than your previous ones. She takes her time exploring your mouth and you gradually get bolder with where you touch her, fingers grazing up her sides to her stomach, to the underside of her bra.

Her lips leave yours only to burn a trail down the corner of your mouth, across your jawline and to your neck. Deft fingers undo the clasps and pull down the zipper of your white jacket, guiding it past your shoulders without taking it completely off. She definitely has a thing for it. You’d comment on that, too, if you could think about anything other than how good she smells.

Clothes come off while she sucks on your neck, teeth pressing against you just shy of leaving marks. When both of you are down to your underwear and breathing heavy, her fingers caressing dangerously low on your waistline, her lips come near your ear.

“So… I want to make you beg, but I can’t help but feel like I’m already corrupting you a lot.”

Corrupt away. you want to tell her.

“Does that turn you on?” you whisper in her ear and feel her response with how her hips press down harder onto yours.

“Yes.” That breathless admission becomes your undoing.

You get lost in her lips after it and the sensation of her fingers on you –inyou— working you up towards what could be simultaneously your ruin and your salvation. You touch her in turn, filling the room with both your moans and gasps, until that glorious peak of white-hot pleasure where the whole world comes to a stop for a few moments.

There is a time limit to your time together, now and generally, you are aware. But you allow yourselves a few quiet moments together as you lay there with the excuse of catching your breath, even if you already have.

Tough game you’re playing here. The smarter part of your brain says. It’s all too easy to get addicted to having her atop you like this. The better the dream, the more bitter the wakeup.

When Fortune lifts herself off you to slide under her heavy covers, you register the chill of night. You dress almost sluggishly, your body so very exhausted from the activities of the whole day.

Kissing her goodnight is almost an urge you fight under control, not wanting to make her uncomfortable if this was all she wanted out of your dalliance.

“Well, my bunk is calling.” you turn around to tell her, trying not to blush when you see her with her elbow resting on her pillow, cheek cutely pressed on her fist, watching you like a languid cat.

“Hate to watch you leave but I love to watch you go.” she smirks at you.

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

…

It is after a long damn day of fighting that you get to finally sit down and enjoy a meal and drinks.

The crew was cold and distrustful towards you at first, but they seem to have opened up more over the course of weeks –especially today, after you secured them a chest filled with gold coins left behind by wealthy people who were running from the wraiths. From the corner of your eye, you subtly watch Sarah Fortune interact with her men, hoping it’s not obvious how badly into her you are.

“So…” Riven begins from the chair next to you and you know that’s not going to be good.

“What?” You face her, playing cool.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to say that she’s bad for you… but I will, anyway.” You give Riven a blank stare that absolutely doesn’t fool her. Shit.

“Like how do you even know.” You finally break.

“It wasn’t obvious since day one there was something there?” Yeah, maybe to everyone except you.

“Wait.” Hold on a second. “Does everyone know?”

“I think everyone except Diana has pretty much figured it out.” That certainly explains the looks Lucian has been giving you all day. Double shit.

“What? The thing between Fortune and Rookie, here?” Diana asks from behind you.

Triple—

“Scratch that. Everyone knows.” Riven tells you. “And we all agree. She’s bad for you.” You hate the emphasis on that. “As in the worst.”

“I getit, Riven, thank you.” You shake your hand in her face while the other covers yours.

“I mean I know ruthless, player redheads who can and will absolutely murder you without a second thought are, like, a kink of yours—”

You don’t think your face gets any redder than this. “What—” you nearly choke on air. “That –how do you figure that out? That’s not even true.”

“Dude. When Katarina Du Couteau was brought into our conversation you nearly gasped and fangirled for the next hour.”

“I just heard a lot about one of our biggest Demacian enemies and wanted to know if it was all true!” you defend yourself.

“You asked me if she’s as hot as rumor has it, not about her war achievements.” Riven laughs.

“And you didn’t answer! Well, is she or isn’t she?” you ask. For… scientific purposes.

“I’m not going to answer that!” Riven lifts her hands up.

“She is.” Graves says as he slides into the seat next to you, drink in hand.

“Thank you!” You pat him on the shoulder.

“We should totally have her join the Sentinels.” he adds.

“Hah!” A vein pops at Riven’s temple. “And the answer will be something along the lines of ‘bold of you to assume I give a single fuck about the world’.” comes the imitation.

“Whoa, that’s exactly how she sounds like.” Graves says.

You’re glad the conversation has shifted away from you, at least.

From the opposite side of the room, you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you, yet they’re averted the second you raise yours to meet them.

…

They may know about your one-time thing with Fortune and heavily scrutinize it, but they still send you in now that they need to ask for more from the captain. With that, your teammates lose every right to comment on what you do and don’t do with her.

“We’ll get you the coin from that ship –well, Graves will, since they already hate him—and you help us out here. Deal?” you ask her.

There. You can be a professional and negotiate terms with the most beautiful woman in the world, who you also happened to have had mindblowing sex with, without constantly looking at her lips.

“Deal, but…” she begins. “You’re sitting all the way over there… why?”

So much for keeping your mind out of the gutter. “Um.” You lick your lips, unsure of what to say, while she smirks slow, like the cat that got the canary.

“Come here.” A pat on her desk, right in front of her chair.

Against your better judgement, you walk around the furniture and lean there, really, really close to her, especially when she stands, towering over you in her heels. You can tell she likes it, too.

“Don’t look at me like that, we leave in ten minutes.” you say. It doesn’t even phase her.

Her fingers move to the zipper of your jacket and although you should stop her, you don’t. “Really?” she leans closer, closer still, until her tantalizing mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours.

“…really. Nine, now.” you waver.

“Guess we have to be fast, then.”

She lightly pushes you onto her desk and starts undoing your belt buckles. The thought of what you’re about to do alone could make you come on the spot. It’s not just the thought that’s threatening to do that, when you feel her cool fingers slide right where you need them.

“You’re going to ditch me for your little Sentinel friends, who don’t like me?” she asks in your ear.

Oh, Gods…

“Ah, I like you enough for all of us, Fortune.” your lips move against her jawline as you speak. A little further down and you can feel how quick her pulse is. You wouldn’t have guessed, with how composed she looks fingering you on her desk.

“Sarah.” she holds your chin with two fingers as she says it, like a secret between you. “Call me Sarah when you come.”

You do.

…

It becomes a nightly thing after that, your visits in her bedroom.

She’s insatiable and she makes everything bothering you go away for those precious hours. But. The more you see of her, you cannot help but feel like something’s very wrong with Sarah.

Underneath the visage of the ruthless captain, the queen who can just reach out and take anything she wants, you see… cracks. She doesn’t sleep well. She drinks. You’re pretty sure you’re another distraction –coping mechanism?— although it doesn’t bother you. She’s the same for you, isn’t she?

It’s not like you have feelings for her.

…Right?

No, no that would be terrible. You definitely don’t. You are allowed to love the way her fingers are running lazy circles on your thigh right now without any sort of complicated emotions involved.

“You should quit while you’re ahead.” she tells you, half muffled into her pillow, stark black against the red of her hair.

This or the Sentinel war? You wonder.

“You have little cuts everywhere. They don’t even have time to disappear before new ones open on top of them.” she moves the back of her pointer to the biggest visible line near your knee, then up your arm, until her hand rests on the crook of your neck. “Leave the others to deal with the mist. It’s not your problem.”

“The world’s problem is my problem. Guess where I lived and what region fell to Viego first.”

You refrain from telling her how many people close to you met his blade before that. How many of the classmates you ate and trained with for four years you had to see skewered by him, on his insane quest for his ‘love’. You don’t want to sour your time together with your burdens. Your pain, your nightmares, are your own to deal with.

“If you keep going you’ll fall to him first.” she counters. “You’ll die protecting one of those idiots in your group or some random civilian.”

“Thanks, Miss Fortune-teller.” you say, a tad irked at her blatant disregard for anyone who isn’t herself.

“I don’t have to be one to tell.” she gives you a sad smile. “It’s always the good ones that die. It’s always the monsters that win.”

You can’t help but wonder…

What made you this way?

…

You see now why emotions are considered a distraction on the battlefield. Even as you kill monsters, all you think about is her.

Come to think of it…

You’ve never seen her smile for real. What you’re looking for is a far cry from those smirks she throws around to bring people to their knees, or the sardonic ones she levels Lucian with. Even those she offers you behind closed doors have a shadow underneath them. It makes you wonder about what would make her happy enough to give a genuine smile.

When you happen across a shipwreck filled with valuables, you think this may be it. The Sentinels take what they need and agree to give the rest to Fortune to stay on her good graces.

Her whole ship lights up with the joy of riches. The crew is ecstatic. Laughter and cheers fill the deck.

And yet.

Her glee is pretend, just for the sake of her men. Her eyes are hollow.

When she eventually retreats to her cabin, you follow her and knock on her door. “It’s always open for you~” she calls from the inside, already in the company of a whiskey bottle.

You turn the key behind you, then lean forward with your hands on her desk, staring at her.

“Why this serious, sexy?” she asks. “Need me to help loosen you up a bit?”

“You need to part with the fetter, Sarah.” you state. “It affects you in ways you won’t notice or understand but it always does.”

“Ah, part with it so you and your crew of misfits can steal it from me? Hmm… no.” she chuckles.

“I care more about what it does to you than the fetter itself right now.” you try again. Only to fail again.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t trust you.” Talk about words being sharper than knives, sometimes. “Don’t take it personally; I don’t trust anyone.”

“What a joyful life this must be.” you bite back.

“Coin is joy for me, sweetheart.” she leans back in her plush chair, taking another swing from the bottle.

“You didn’t seem very happy to me, back there.”

She gives you a look and finally sets the whiskey down. “Come here. I’ll tell you a little secret about me.” she says, a tad more serious than before.

Cautiously, you step around the desk until you’re in front of her seat. Her hand shoots up like a bullet, then, taking hold of your jacket and dragging you down until the two of you are eye-level.

“You know what would really make me happy right now?” You feel her leg move up the inside of yours, deliciously slow, as she speaks… until she hooks her calf behind your knee and makes your weight fall onto it. “For you to shut up about fetters and concerns and go down on me.”

Fuck.

Deep down, to a small part of you not ruled by your hormones, you know using sex to avoid any sort of deeper conversation between you is unhealthy. You know an arrangement where there’s no trust is unhealthy.

Then again, the circumstances that brought you together are anything but healthy.

And what sort of pretty flower can burst forth, really, from a corrupted seed?

…

When you return from your mist-slaying, late in the evening, the crew is uneasy.

“Don’t bother the cap’n right now.” One of the men says. “She ain’t havin’ the best o’ days.”

You later find out that they had a run-in with an enemy fleet. That the Reaver King has resurfaced and is looking to claim Bilgewater for himself. Major shit is about to go down, the bounty hunters tell you and you do not want to be outsiders caught in the middle when it finally hits the fan.

You give Sarah her space until the need to check up on her becomes overwhelming.

One knock on the door. “Leave.” she hisses from within the office like a tensed cat. Another knock. “You have ten seconds before I put a bullet through your skull!”

“Can’t imagine I’ll be very attractive then.” you reply.

The door swings open; her eyes are the epitome of a raging storm. You’ve never seen her like this, so hateful and distressed… and it hurts to witness. “My ‘leave’ applies to everyone. You, included.”

“Cool.” you nod at her. Pause. “So… can I come in now?”

Sarah throws her hands up in exasperation, pivoting with an angry, whispered ‘whatever’. She paces across her cabin, an agitated lion one step away from pouncing. Her hands run through her fiery hair as though they cannot keep still.

“You need to leave Bilgewater asap and never come back.” You don’t know if she’s talking to you or thinking out loud. “You need to go. With or without the rest of them, I don’t care, just go!”

“What’s… gotten into you?” you dare ask.

“He’s back. He always comes back, no matter how many times I sink the bastard. It’s like he cannot die. He just won’t die!” her voice is raw with her rage. “You Sentinels fight the darkness but you don’t kill evil. Evil will still be here –rooted here— even if you win.”

You open your mouth but can’t find anything to say.

“I have to win my own war. I will be victorious no matter the cost, no matter the bloodshed.” Sarah goes on. “But I need to know that you won’t be here. Do you understand?!”

You just look at her, sad and frozen, trying to understand. There’s nothing you can say to ease what’s hurting her and nothing you can do. You’ve seen this wretched thing eat away at her every day since the moment you met. It’s too deeply engraved in her heart for you to hope to change it; and it has little to do with the fetter in her possession.

Sarah crosses the room in two large strides and grabs your biceps. She looks like she’s ready to throw you off her ship herself…

Until.

She pulls you into her arms, instead.

Tight, like she’s afraid you’ll be gone the moment she lets go, she holds you close. Her head is tucked into your shoulder, her nails press hard into your back. You slowly bring your hands up to encircle her waist in return.

“I’ve lost everything. He took everything from me. I won’t give him the chance to take you away, as well.” she says.

Oh. you think. She cares about you, after all.

If only that was a good thing for either of you.

…

You feel it, when the moment comes.

Maybe you’ve always felt it and just didn’t want to admit it.

When Sarah stands in front of Viego offering the lot of you up along with the fetter in exchange for his ruined power, you know the agony you feel, like a blade splitting you down the middle, is your own doing. There is nobody but yourself to blame for it. The others warned you. Your own instinct warned you.

You didn’t listen.

You wanted to trust her. Maybe even to love her.

But her hatred runs deeper than whatever measly thing you were to her.

As the mist shrouds Fortune and turns her red hair luminescent blonde, as it eats away at her colors until they’re all black and sickly green, until the eyes you knew turn cold and unfeeling, you feel something in you crack. Maybe it’s your faith. Maybe it’s your heart.

There’s a lesson to take from this, you’re sure, despite how your emotions choke you. Right now, though, you focus on avoiding her bullets and having your teammates’ backs in the rain of chaos that follows.

You end up deep in the water, bleeding, defeated. You and the other Sentinels have never been crushed by your losses, but it will take some time to pick up your pieces and continue onward until the end of your war.

You allow yourself one scream muffled in the dark sea.

When you swim to the shore and pull your body out of the mud, you are silent.

“Are you okay? I know that was harder for you than it was for us.” Riven lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’ll let it hurt after we get Viego.”

For now, you can’t afford taking the pain of a broken heart with you on the battlefield.

Sarah. You later think. Now I understand why hurricanes are named after people.