#i frantically built this bathroom in a few minutes and you can tell. ignore it

[simstoyourdismay]

i broke what you gave me

[miss-celestia13]

I Can See You

Jake x OFMC Forbidden Romance

Words: 6.6k

This is entirely inspired by the song, I Can See You by Taylor Swift. I wasn't expecting lusty Taylor on Speak Now TV, but I was well-fed! Many other Swiftie references are included in the story because I can't help myself! And smut, because that’s what I like🤭 no knowledge of the game is needed to read. It’s a complete AU. Thank you so much to the wonderful @rafa-elle for reading over parts of this to ensure I had the emotion right. Check her amazing stories out of you haven’t already!❤️

Kenzi lives a glittering life. Full of cameras, music and fame so dizzying it had the power to repel most from sticking around once it turned on her. Her newest bodyguard, Jake, has caught her eye, and sent her thoughts spinning with filthy daydreams. The reality would prove far more complicated. Secrets, pining and intoxicating lust.

Kenzi’s life is heavily inspired by Taylor Swift, if that wasn’t obvious. I’m not clever 😂❤️

Kenzi

For weeks, she had stolen glances and tried to engage him in conversation, and when that didn’t work, she pointedly ignored him. Her new bodyguard was rather impervious to her usual tricks. He looked at her to ensure she followed, only touching her to help her into or out of the myriad of vehicles she found herself inside. He would sit across from her, crystal eyes locked on the window as she scrolled through her phone and pretended she wasn’t watching him. He was tall and well-built, filling out the black suit most delightfully. And those goddamn eyes. She felt she was being pinned in place every time they met hers. She knew his first name, Jake, hadn’t asked for his last name as she wanted him to tell her. He hadn’t as of yet, much to her dismay.

Last night, she had performed the final show of her tour, and he had been in her line of sight during the after-party. She still wore the skimpy leotard she’d worn for her closing song, dancing and drinking with her tourmates while he watched her every move like a hawk. His gaze had been a scalding brand on her back, her face, and when she’d gone to the bathroom, he’d shadowed her every step and her ill advised lust had run rampant. All she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears, their thunderous footsteps as they walked down a dim hallway, and the leash she had kept on her wandering mind snapped.

The things she saw inside her head had almost taken her legs out from under her. He had brushed past her to check the bathroom was empty; in her mind, he turned, grabbed her by the throat, and shoved her up against the wall, mask pulled down before he kissed her stupidly. She was almost gasping for breath when he did, in fact, turn to her, but all he did was nod and hold the door open for her. She’d ducked under his arm, slammed the door, locked it, and spent frantic minutes trying to calm herself down. He had smelled like spice, heat, and something smoky that did nothing to cool the embers burning low in her stomach. The party after that had been a blur of nothing until she’d collapsed into bed.

It had been a highly frustrating time for Kenzi, and she had resorted to daydreaming, which had soon turned into the filthiest dreams she’d ever had. He was always faceless in her dreams. A blur with sapphire eyes that could have devoured worlds with the burn in them. The one from the night before had left her flustered and on edge all day. And it was all made worse by the fact that he was her solo guard tonight and would be haunting her house while she failed to sleep. The rest were stationed around the property and guarding her mother while she carried out some of the trickier aspects of her daughter’s fame. She had eaten a lonely dinner while he had checked the house was intruder free.

As she curled up on the couch, mindless reality TV shows playing to drown out the thoughts racing in her head, he appeared in the doorway and spoke some of the few words he was willing to give her. She idly wondered what he would do if she touched him.

“All is secure. I’ll do another check while you sleep.”

She nodded, forcing a smile as his eyes skipped over everything in the room but her, “Thank you. If you need anything to eat or drink, take it.” She always offered, and he always shook his head and said...

“Thanks. I have all that I need.”

Biting back a sigh, she nodded again and turned back to the TV just before her fake smile slid off her face, and she was back to scowling at her phone.

Jessy: How’s it going with Jake? ;-) Have you seen what’s under that suit yet?

She had only told Jessy about her silly little crush and trusted the woman with her life, as she’d been there long before the world had known Kenzi’s name. Chuckling bitterly, she tapped out a short reply and snorted at her answer before she tossed the phone aside.

Jessy: Just grab him by the tie, use it to lead him straight to your bed... then call me in the morning to tell me EVERYTHING!!!

It wasn’t that simple, though she dearly wished it was. He worked for her, his job was to protect her, and she knew the many reasons why she shouldn’t even try it, but still, she wanted him. A bodyguard’s duty was taken seriously. They were to ensure she remained amongst the living, even if that cost them their lives, a fact she did not take lightly and did all she could to make up for that risk. Once before, she had given in when attraction bloomed between her and a guard, it had ended in disaster, and he still liked to tell the tale of their short time together to news outlets. Her life was one giant fishbowl, and everything had to be kept secret until she was ready to deal with the world interfering.

He would either reject her and look for a new client, or he’d accept, and she’d go through all the shit again and become a national lightning rod for slut shaming. Still, she could sense him behind her. Like her entire nervous system had attuned to his, sparking alight whenever he drew close, her mind filled with maroon smoke once more. The night outside her window was black velvet, and though she couldn’t see anything, she knew her guards were out patrolling and would glance through the windows to ensure she was okay. She had decided to call it a night when Jake called her name for the first time, and her heart jumped into her throat, very much enjoying the way it rolled off his rusty tongue.

“Kenzi, James needs me for a moment. I won’t be gone long. You have your pepper spray?”

She rolled her eyes before she could stop herself, her heart sinking a little at him leaving even for a little while, and hurried to cover it, “Yes. That’s fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

There was a snappish tone to her voice, and she cringed internally as his eyes filled with confusion, but she walked off before he could question her. She felt his stare until she climbed the stairs and bolted inside her bedroom, face burning red. Slumping against the door, heart rattling and head shaking, she cursed her hormones and thought she would have to fuck some sense back into herself one night when he wasn’t on Kenzi duty. Maybe it would take the edge off, and she would realize how stupid she was acting. He watched her like he was memorizing her, and it kept confusing her. None of the guards mentioned him except to say he was highly recommended and overqualified; he was a phantom, even amongst his own kind.

Throwing herself down on the bed, she muffled her groan into her pillow and willed her face to cool down. Idiot she was an absolute idiot to think she had the right to be mad at him for doing his job well. Repeating it in her head did nothing to stifle the shit in her thoughts. For weeks she had observed him, imagining all the ways he could take her apart and put her back together, desperately trying not to feel what she was feeling. But it was useless. He was in her head and wouldn’t leave. She wasn’t sure she wanted him out. No, she wanted him in, in so deep she forgot her own name and could only call his. So deep she would forget what a terrible idea it was, and skin and teeth and grasping hands erased the fear of being caught.

Maddening, that’s what it was, and she rolled onto her back with a huff as flame flared in her core, and she heard him returning to the house. She fancifully thought she could feel him moving around, silent and purposeful as he combed the house for threats to her, and she pressed her thighs together, annoyed with the constant burn. Her heart kicked up a racing beat as she heard him slowly climb the stairs. He didn’t usually come up until she was asleep, tried to give her as much privacy as he could, and it only endeared her to him more. She sat bolt upright as his steps came toward her door. This was new. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do when he knocked on her door.

Panic bloomed wild, and her hands shook, eyes burning holes through the door like she would see through it if she looked hard enough. Holding her breath, sure she had imagined it, she bit down a squeal as he knocked again, harder this time. Before she could stop herself, she spoke the words that sealed her fate.

“Come in, Jake.”

With a weighted pause, the floorboards outside her door creaked as he shifted on his feet, and her chest was screaming for air as the door slowly slid open, and he darkened her doorway. Scrambling to her feet, Kenzi eyed him warily as he came inside and left the door open. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something was different; his usual cold aloofness was gone, and he almost looked nervous; she liked it. It put him on similar ground to her and made her brave.

“Is everything okay? You look worried.” She said, arching a brow and waiting him out as he seemed to struggle for words behind the mask.

He looked away from her, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him to hurry. She hated feeling so unsure and had never felt so unhinged around a man despite what the media claimed. It annoyed and picked at her pride that he was so quiet and immovable. But tonight, she felt in the air that something had changed, and her skin buzzed slightly like a current ran through as he finally gave voice to whatever it was he’d been thinking about. And her flimsy hope died a bloody death.

“You seemed upset earlier. Do you have any complaints about my service?”

Sighing, she shook her head and looked away, breaking the intense eye contact he’d reeled her in with, “I’m not upset. You do a fine job. Don’t worry about that...” She trailed off, glanced at him again, and found him frowning, but there was a spark of something she didn’t recognize in his lovely eyes. Then he had to open his mouth again.

“You sound upset. Is there something I should know? Something you’re worried about?”

“I’m not upset!” she cursed inwardly; her high-pitched shout only made his eyes darker, and they shimmered with humor at her expense. Backtracking, blaming him, she went on, “I wasn’t upset until you came in and said I was! Everything is fine, you are doing fine, and I think I’ll sleep upstairs tonight.”

She grabbed her robe and pulled it on, feeling too exposed in her shorts and tank top, before she pushed past his towering frame and left the room, practically running for the stairs when he followed. The upstairs suite was mainly for guests, but she slept there when the weather was wild, but tonight it was her that was out of control, and she needed to lock herself in and get over this stupidity so she could look him in the eye again. She was halfway down the dark hallway when a firm hand wrapped around her upper arm and hauled her to a stop. Whirling, long blonde hair flying around her face, she glared at him and immediately stopped at what she saw. Her body tensed as her eyes took in his maskless face.

His eyes glinted in the frail light filtering through the window, and she hadn’t pictured him with a neat beard, but it suited him, and she suddenly wanted to scratch her nails through it. She curled her hands into fists to keep from doing that as he crowded her and raked his eyes over her face. The blood in her veins stilled as he lowered his head and breathed deeply, restarting again when he tilted his pretty head. Her temper sparked at his ongoing silence, and she tried to tug her arm out of his grip, but he only held her harder until she gave in and huffed.

“What? This isn’t part of your job description, Jake.”

He wasn’t afraid of her, she knew that, and when she met his eye, a spark caught in their azure depths, quick and hot, and she relaxed an inch.

“I want you to tell me why you’re upset. I’m not leaving until you do. I take my job very seriously, Kenzi.”

Oh, fuck her gently. Tomorrow, she was issuing a PR statement to inform the world that only he could call her by her name. The sound was rich and rough, smooth and harsh all at the same time. It lifted the hair on her nape, sending butterflies flying in her stomach. She registered his comment once the butterflies calmed, and her emotions shifted back to outrage.

“I don’t have to tell you anything. I’d like to sleep, and you’re keeping me from it.”

He sighed, a shake of his head as his mouth curled into a smirk so sensual she wanted to whimper as her dirty dreams played in her mind with vivid clarity.

“No, you’re lying. Tell me the real reason, Kenzi. I’m not leaving until you do.”

She was so close, the heat radiating from him was adding to her mind, and his scent had invaded her nose; she doubted she would ever get it out. Feeling trapped, cornered like prey, she turned it back on him.

“Why don’t you tell me why you care so much?”

Lifting her chin to glare at him, she didn’t have a chance to do more than hold on as he cursed, “Infuriating woman,” and she was suddenly pressed up against the wall, his mouth on hers before her mind could catch up, and then she didn’t care.

The cold wall seeped through her skimpy attire, the robe slipping off her shoulders to pool at her elbows as he kissed her hungrily. It was clumsy, a clash of teeth and tongue when she let him in that soon turned into a kiss so consuming that it burned. The scrape of his beard, the nervy brush of his tongue as she clung to his jacket, and heat pooled thick and fast between her thighs. She moaned into it, giving herself away, and the seal on her mouth was broken. He stepped back, panting as fear flashed in his eyes, and she knew he would leave and never return if she didn’t do something fast.

Pushing up her toes, she looped her arms around his neck and nipped at his bottom lip, rubbing herself against his chest until he took the hint. Whatever had kept him away from her had evidently vanished as he retook control, and all she knew was heat. It built rapidly, sweat prickling over her skin as he shoved a knee between her thighs and again pinned her against the wall. It was the only thing holding her up as he plundered her mouth and stole her wits right out of her. It had been so long since she’d been kissed like this. Like the world could end right outside, and he still wouldn’t stop. Her knees were water as her hands pulled his hair, and she ground down on his muscled thigh. She wasn’t entirely aware of them moving until she was picked up and instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he let her go to open the bedroom door. How he managed to lock it behind him, she’d never find out but heard it click into place as they kept moving.

Her breath was his as he maneuvered them so she was straddling his lap on the edge of the bed. She whimpered as he bit her lips and she felt how hard he was under her; wetness soaked her shorts as she arched in a slow slide and smiled when he shuddered. In all her wildest dreams, kissing him had never felt this good. She was lost in it as he gripped her hips on her next grind down, and he jerked up into her, making them both shiver. Too many clothes irritated her as her greedy fingers sought bare skin and could find none. He must have sensed her need, breaking free of her mouth so he could roughly tug her robe off, and she leaned back to allow him to take off his suit jacket.

 

She watched it flutter to the floor in slow motion, barely able to see it in the dark of the room, turning back to watch as he undid the tie. Her helpless little whine at the arresting sight would shame her later, but his smirk made it worth it as it was thrown away too. Her nipples hardened, heat spreading through her torso as he unbuttoned his shirt and revealed a chest carved from marble and littered with scars. She wanted to ask what happened, knew it was something terrible when she met his eye and noticed he was already pulling back. As if he expected her to be put off by them, she was anything but. Her pulse was a wild thrum in her throat, her ears a roar of blood pounding, and she knew she’d started something, but he was going to finish it. Kenzi swallowed hard, anticipation so thick she could taste it as she gave into the need to touch him. 

 Her hands traveled up his broad chest, fingers teasing the silken skin and watching as the muscles underneath jumped under her touch. His chest rose and fell rapidly as she latched onto his lips and smiled when he immediately opened for her. He tasted like mint, cold but familiar and something unique to him that she soon found addictive. Hands roamed, goosebumps spread in their wake, clothes hurriedly shed as they gave themselves over to desire and let it lead. 

  

 Soon, she was naked, spread out on the bed as he removed his shoes, socks, and trousers; his boxers were last. She wished they’d turned on a light so she could see all of him, but the darkness only made it feel more exciting, like she was doing something she had been warned against. Her mouth dried as he crawled over her and braced himself on his elbow; he held himself in his other hand, hard cock sliding through her saturated folds as she arched. His eyes met hers, a question there as he taunted her entrance, and she nodded, silent permission and he slowly filled her. 

 

Her mind flashed between dream Jake and real Jake. She hadn’t even come close as he bottomed out and slumped over her, eyes staring into hers and so tense he was trembling. She gasped, overwhelmed and feeling as if she would burst from the seams from the fullness as he stretched her cunt. It was a tight fit; both struggled to move until her muscles relaxed, and her body went loose and pliant. There were two sides to her in her head. One wanted her to revel in him. The other wanted her to be cautious and wait. Both warred and she was tangled up in so many emotions she couldn’t give one a name. This was wrong; if anyone found out, he’d lose his livelihood, and she would be the wicked witch of the East Side. 

Lust didn’t follow the rules, nor did she, and when he claimed her mouth and began to move, her doubts scattered to the winds as she moaned into his mouth. She had fucked him in her head countless times these weeks, but the incredible reality was something she couldn’t have fathomed. He was splitting her in two, letting her breathe, only to grab her leg and hook it around his waist, fingers bruising; he used it to give him more leverage, and his shallow movements turned deep and quick. Her hands clawed at the bed, his arms, his shoulders, and she clung to him as he ruined her. Rocking her hips into his thrusts, she was shameless as she urged him on. It wasn’t meant to feel like this, she had hoped they’d fizzle out after a quick tumble in the sheets, but she knew that she’d be chasing this high the rest of her life once he left her.

And he would leave; she could already feel him slipping away as he destroyed her long-held defenses, and she was begging him for more. He gave it to her, a growl of possession as he slid an arm under her and lifted her up, sitting back on his haunches so she could ride him. He helped her, meeting her every sinuous wriggle down, and the hands bruising her waist helped her every rise up. In this position, she could barely breathe; each time she bottomed out, the breath left her in a whoosh. He was gritting his teeth, tendons in his neck popping as her slippery inner walls held tight around his cock. 

She kissed him as the pressure built within her. Her bones had been replaced with static as he hit that spot deep inside that made her cunt weep for him. The ache in her thighs only heightened it, and she was far from her stage persona as she cried out, and he swallowed it down. He smirked, making her feel helpless as his hips thrust up on her drop-down; her head hung as she caught her breath and tried to ignore the warning pulse of release already rippling through her. His mouth was at her ear, sensing her struggle, and she could only do as he said, whimpering and melting inside and out.

“Keep going. You’re doing so well. Just a little bit more, you can take it.”

No, she didn’t think she could. Her entire body quivered as she pushed up again, the luscious drag of his rigid cock against her sensitive flesh pulling a feral moan from her. His hand slid between their sticky bodies, fingers dipping into her wetness to find her clit and help her over that edge. The first clumsy brush of his fingers on that bundle of nerves made her jolt, hips lifting again as he urged her on. Her body was primed to explode, tense as a bowstring before the archer let the arrow fly and trembling violently as he bit her neck, sucking at her flickering pulse as she whined.

The tension snapped with an audible sound, a flick of his tongue on her neck, the fingers circling her clit incessantly, and his thick cock all worked in tandem, and the dam broke. Waves of pleasure washed through her, flame spread through her veins, and she slammed her eyes shut against it, seeing nothing but white light behind her lids. She was making too much noise and managed not to say his name in a scream but did in a whisper as he lay her on her back and pounded into her to find his own end. 

She hung on as he prolonged her agony, dragging it out until she was pleading with him in her mind to give her respite. Still, it was too good, the lewd smack of flesh on flesh and his harsh groans blending together like sinful music as she sobbed and thrashed her head. Jake seemed to enjoy her distress, every flutter of her inner walls making his eyes darken to violet as he moved within her taut wet heat. She felt very far from human as she felt his cock jump inside her, anticipating his release, but he pulled out with a moan so decadent she would never find the words to put it into song. He wiped his hand off the sheet on what she hoped would be his side.

Part of her wanted to be mad about him ruining her clean sheets, but most of her was warmed through that he had thought he had to do that. She could always make him him wash them before he scurried off to fulfil his duties. His weight and the kisses he was planting on her throat kept her still as she trailed her nails down his strong back, and he made a sound suspiciously like a purr as she repeated the action. It was a while before either could speak, and everything she thought of felt silly, and she was both grateful and surprised when he broke the calm silence.

“This was supposed to get you out of my head.”

She chuckled, eyes at half mast as she replied, “I was thinking the same thing. Did it work for you?”

His head shook as he spoke into her sweaty neck, “No. You?”

“No.” She sighed.

“This can’t – it’s my job to protect you. I can’t do that if I’m distracted by the mere thought of you.”

“I know...”

Still, he didn’t move to leave as his head lifted and met her eye in the dim room, a pained expression on his face, “What do we do now?”

She considered it, already well aware of the drawbacks to dating her, and that was without the added burden of him being under her employment. The press would have a field day, and she would just be another tabloid fixture. If that day came, she would take the fall and hope something new came along to dethrone her reign of salacious stories. She had no plan; she who planned everything and masterminded her entire career, she couldn’t prepare for this. It would have to play out on the world’s stage.

“I don’t know. We can figure it out later.” She muttered, eyes heavy with sleep as he rolled off her and guided her into a spooning position. 

“Go to sleep. I’ll sneak out once you are.” He whispered and kissed her tenderly. She could only nod as she gave into the lure of blissful nothing and peaceful dreams. She woke up to a note on her pillow that kept a sappy smile on her face throughout her day.

I will see you tonight. J.

***

It went on like that for weeks. She felt like she was on a secret mission most nights as they snuck around under her team’s noses and made carnal use of many rooms without prying eyes. Her bedroom, her kitchen island, the camera-free elevator to her penthouse, a closet during a shoot, it didn’t matter where. It only mattered that it was with him. It was his hands tugging at her clothes or rucking her skirt over her hips and bending her over someone’s desk until essence dripped down her thighs, and she became a creature of base instincts. He would claw, tear and bite as he made her disintegrate. 

Permanently slick between her thighs, she’d stopped wearing underwear by week three. She had delighted in his reaction and the things he growled whenever she wore something purely for him to tear off her. Like the little black dress she’d worn to one of the few parties she regularly attended. He’d looked murderous that entire night and she paid for it beautifully. And the day after that particular steamy incident, he used his tie as a blindfold, bending her body into a vessel for him to fill; she had run off to the bathroom every time she caught sight of that damned tie around his throat the following day. Hurriedly using her own hand to take the edge off until they could be alone, he would direct her through the secret phone he’d given her, voice all smoky darkness as she fucked her hand.

If anyone noticed her gazing off into space frequently, mind reeling with the pleasure he had given her, no one said a thing. Jessy was the only person she dared to tell, and even then, she kept much of it quiet from her oldest friend. This wasn’t like the lovers of her past. She wanted to protect him from the reality of her life and knew he would hate being gossiped about. So, she kept it to herself, drowning in lust and an inconvenient love that she denied every time she pulled him inside her body. The dive bars, disguises and secret garden rendezvous whenever they were at her beach home kept her going through the constant observation of everyone around her.

He seemed much better at hiding his distraction. His aloof attitude greeted her each morning, but she could see under it now, and he appeared to soften whenever she asked him to take her to the studio. Fans and paparazzi haunted the place in hopes of seeing her. He was a wall of hard muscle between her and the crowds blinding her with camera flashes, using his jacket to shield her as much as he could until they were safe behind the studio doors. She knew she loved him by the second night they spent together, and now, she knew their hands were tied. Fate was in charge as they couldn’t stay away from each other.

She tried to. Had locked her door one night, biting her lip and eyes stinging as she stared at the door and thought of his confusion when he found the way to her barred. The door was soon unlocked, and when he crawled into her bed at three am, her legs pried apart by his cold hands, she couldn’t do anything but burn as he taught her a secret language she’d never be able to speak again. She saw her love reflected back in his eyes whenever he was inside her, or they shared secret looks across a crowded room. Like magnets, she always knew where to find him, and he always had a laser focus on her. Their hands would brush, the tiny contact enough to tide her over until she had him alone. She had never felt so alive, so free and high.

But what comes up must come down, and their fall would be heard around the world as they grew complacent. It happened on a Monday, as all bad things usually do. They were ensconced in the studio after her session ended, alone, and she was in his lap, fully clothed, thankfully. But neither had thought to lock the door after John left his booth. Jake must’ve been listening for anything strange as when the door opened, she was picked up and dropped on the worn couch; he reached for his gun and resumed his duties in the time it took for her to blink. But she’d unbuttoned his shirt, his tie lay on the floor at her feet and she knew it was already too late.

A camera flashed, Jake shouted a warning before the camera went off again, and the next thing she knew, the paparazzo was on his back, Jake was shaking his fist out, and her castle crumbled down around her. Jake grabbed his camera and went to smash it, but she held him back.

“Don’t! They can sue me for that. Just take the film out or delete them.” 

The man on the floor was wide-eyed and clutching his bleeding face as he glared at her and spat, “Doesn’t matter; they’re already backed up online.”

Her heart sank through the floor as Jake heaved a sigh and took a menacing step toward the man, the hand holding his gun began to rise, and she knew he would kill him to keep her safe. But she wouldn’t ever forgive herself if she allowed it. She called his name, ignoring the man on the floor as he picked himself up. Jake shoved the camera into his stomach so hard that he stumbled back before turning his tail and bolting away. 

All the chats they’d shared under cover of night and bedsheets, where she was just Kenzi, the woman, and he was just Jake, the man who wanted the woman, came hurtling toward her as her worst fears came to life. His time in the Marines, her rise to fame, his future goals, and hers, they had shared it all. She had warned him how difficult it was to be with her, even secretly. Once the press got wind she was in a relationship, they would be hunted and killed before they could grow into something permanent. She had never wanted that for him but couldn’t ignore the pull between them. His magnetic force kept her coming back for more despite the worry. And after those first few days, he had given up pretending this was just sex. They were fucked.

They left the studio through a back entrance. The car ride home was filled with silence so loud she heard it like a scream in her ears as he stared through the window and twisted his hands. Long nights with his hands tangled in her hair would no longer be possible, and her heart bled, a thorny fist closed around it as he avoided her searching eyes. He never said a word as he escorted her into her building, she was desperately trying to find a way to stop the world from finding out, but knew it was futile as the elevator dinged and he left ahead of her. He shadowed her to her room, not saying a word as the echoes of their feet mocked her and she shut the bedroom door in his pained face and finally let the tears fall. A gaping wound had opened in her chest as she curled up on her bed and turned off her phone as it began to blow up with notifications.

It had been stupid to believe she could keep him. All her promises to keep them safe tasted like ash as she sobbed silently and ignored the world clamoring for her attention. All the secret touches, pining for him as he stood beside her now felt idiotic. She did not leave her room. Made sure the door was locked before slipping under the covers, fully dressed, and cried herself to sleep. It felt like no time at all had passed when sunlight streamed through her open blinds, and her phone rang relentlessly on her nightstand. 

She checked to see who was calling, and at seeing her mom’s name, she answered it and waited for her to ream her out. 

“Kenzi, darling, I know you’re avoiding us, but we have to get a handle on this before it’s too late.”

Her sore eyes prickled again, but she screwed them shut, refusing to cry again so soon as she said, “I know, Mom. I just need a few hours, okay?” Her voice was raw and thick, but she hung up before her mom could pry anything out of her and fell back on her bed. Paper crinkled under her head, making her frown as she pulled it out, and her chest hollowed out at seeing Jake’s name. How he’d gotten inside to leave it for her, she didn’t want to know. Rage, despair, frustration, and a thousand other emotions slammed into her as she read his note and crumpled it into a ball. She tossed it at the wall and watched it roll under her vanity. The words were seared into her memory as she let herself be overwhelmed by all she was feeling.

Kenzi, I’ve been given a new client. 

I’ll be gone by morning. I’m so sorry.

This wasn’t meant to go this far.

I don’t want to leave, but I need you safe.

That’s all that ever mattered to me.

Jake.

Her mother had warned her about her tendency to let blind faith lead her, and now she would pay its hefty toll once again as she tried to salvage gold from the wreckage the media would create. And she was furious at herself for not listening to her moms advice, blinded by it some nights as she paced the creaking floors and bit her nails down to the quick. She might never see him again; the idea sliced through her, a jagged cut she knew would leave an invisible, indelible scar. It wasn’t like all those other times when she could effortlessly pick herself up and head outside like she was immune to the media wondering why she couldn’t keep a man. This time, she had wanted to keep him, and he had run at the first sign of trouble. She didn’t blame him as she gathered herself hours later and allowed her mom entry to her room. No, she understood and only wished she could tell him how much she adored him before he’d gone.

Time, it was a curious thing. It would either heal and mend, or she would be frozen in this state forever, always waiting for him where he left her. Neither fate appealed to her, so she did what she always did. She turned to music and buried herself in work to block out the noise of those trying to figure out where her latest conquest had vanished to. They were like bloodhounds on the hunt whenever she left the house. Out for her dirty laundry as they lambasted her for daring to have something for herself. Her secret phone remained silent despite her breaking one night after getting wine drunk, and her message went unanswered. 

She was in emotional limbo, and her other guards were watching her more closely after he left. They never left her alone, and it wore on her as much as Jake’s ghosting. Every tall and dark haired man in her periphery had her twisting to see if it was him. It never was. Two weeks later, she caught sight of him at an event, but when she’d turned for a closer look, he’d gone, and her guards suddenly circled her. Her mother was to blame for that, and she wanted to be angry but only felt the pit in her stomach deepen endlessly. He haunted her everywhere she went after that. It drove her mad, and she would freeze, hold her breath and clutch her purse as he managed to escape her sights.

After one such encounter, she’d chased after him, high heels clacking loudly off the tiled floor as he disappeared around a corner, and she lost him. She had given in to the rage then and sent him a text before turning off her phone.

Kenzi: Pussy. Never took you for one, Jake. Pathetic. Keep running; it’s all you’re good at.

Regret instantly slapped her, but she squared her shoulders and returned to the party. She put on the performance of a lifetime as she schmoozed record label bosses and industry connections. Once she was alone in her room, exhausted from pretending she was fine, her personal phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. Her guards had been sent away to enjoy themselves as her penthouse had provided security, and she needed to breathe. She almost deleted it, thinking it was a tabloid looking for a story, but her thumbs worked before her brain could and opened it.

Unknown: Meet me in the dive bar on the east side. There is a back door if you don’t want to be seen. 

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Part Two:

Meet Me Tonight

[casserole4you]

A Mermaids Tale

Tom Holland AU

Words: 1.8K

⚠️Warnings⚠️ betrayal, drowning, near death experience

A/N: Sorry if this sucks I'm trying something new, I normally write in 3rd person but I decided to try and write in 1st person for a change.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

《Masterlist》

"Make her walk the plank!"

My eyes widened in terror as the crew grabbed me and tied my hands together and tied my legs together preventing me from trying to run, even though I would have nowhere to go.

"Please stop!" I begged as I begun to cry.

The crew ignored me and instead of listening to my pleas, they began to shove me onto a  plank of wood that they had laid down to push me off the side of the ship while chanting and yelling profanity towards me.

"Haven't you heard that no woman steps foot on my ship and lives to tell the tale?" The captain gave a smug look showing his yellow teeth, well the few that he had.

They pushed me with a stick to move me closer to the edge of the wood and once I was at the edge I couldn't help but stare into the dark icey blue ocean that was soon going to become my watery grave.

"Any last words?" The captain sneered.

I stared into the ocean with glassy eyes, I tore my gaze from the ocean and desperately looked around and realized there was no sign of land anywhere near so there was no chance of me even trying to swim to shore. I glanced behind me "Please," I whispered d

"Don't do this," I pleaded desperately trying to change their minds.

"No man wants a woman on his ship, it's bad luck," he sneered.

I frantically scanned the faces looking for the kind familiar one that I came to love over the years. Only for him to be staring at me with a cold blank expression.

"Sam! Sam! Tell them what you told me! Tell them that we are going to get off on the next port!" I desperately tried.

Everyone collectively turned and looked at Sam with raised eyebrows.

"Is what she said true?" The captain growled

" I have no idea what this wench is talking about, " he sneered. "I've never seen her before in my life. Until you all found her and grabbed her."

With that my heart broke in two, the Sam I knew and loved was no longer standing there in front me. 

I was looking at some stranger instead.

We met when I was younger, but I was 11 and he was 13 and we thought it was love at first. But because of my family's royal status and him being a pirate we simply weren't allowed to be together. Having to  constantly sneak around the castle grounds and having to hide from my royal guards at every turn just for us to have a few precious moments to have before he would have to go back home. That was until he decided to join a bunch of pirates at the age of 16 when his parents passed away and I would just have to look forward to his letters for 2 years until he finally came back home.

---

"You know I have to leave again soon right?"

I sighed resting my head on his shoulder "I know."

"Hey what do you think about running away with me? We could both leave together on the ship that I'm working on? And we can get off at the next port that we dock at and we can just live there and start a family of our own."

I stared into his pale blue eyes before scanning over the rest of him becoming mesmerized by him. He was semi tan from working in the sun, with a slightly built frame from working on the ship, but still he had his pale complexion with barely any scars making him, his nose was crooked though from it getting broke and not set properly, but other than that he still was the most beautiful man I have ever  seen. His shaggy blond hair was now a little past his shoulders and slowly becoming matted from the lack of upkeep and he was starting to grow a beard.

"Hey did you hear me?" He asks, drawing my attention back to his eyes.

"Do you really mean it Sam?" I asked hopefully.

Seeing complete honesty and love in his eyes "Of course my love I would do anything for us to be together," he said, giving me a light peck on the lips.

"Am I even allowed on the ship with you?" I asked warily "I thought women weren't really welcomed on pirate's ship," I said my voice growing quieter a little at the end.

"We will just sneak you on the boat, we can dress you in some of my clothes and you can just blend in for a few days until we get to where we are going." 

"We don't even look the same though," I'm a complete opposite of him with my  curly dark brown hair, my chocolate color eyes and short stature. That there was no way we would be able to pull this off.

"Don't worry you won't get caught, and if you do I'll protect you from any harm. I promise I won't let them do anything to you," he declared.

"Okay I trust you," I said, giving him a passionate kiss.

The first day on the ship went well. Sam and I worked under the deck almost all day without anyone getting suspicious. But when ever we would hear someone coming he would make me hide until it was all clear, because we didn't want to take any chances. When it was time for us to go to bed he had me sleep on the floor behind some barrels in the corner so no one would be able to see me even if they walked by.

The second day was slightly different, from the first when I woke up Sam was nowhere to be seen so I stayed hidden afraid to move from my spot. 

I couldn't tell how much time has past since I woke up, since there are no windows or any real light to tell what time of day it was. And no one has been down here since I've woken up and I was beginning to have to go to the bathroom so I glanced around and waited a few more minutes and I quickly made my way to the 'designated bathroom bucket' and began to do my business. But just when I thought luck was on my side someone walked in on me in the middle of me going to the bathroom thus how I got caught.

---

I felt betrayed staring at him because he broke his promise to me, when he told me that he would never let anything happen to me, and now he's acting like he's never seen me before in his life.

"I hope you all rot in hell you cowards," I venomously said making sure to make direct eye contact with Sam when I said cowards.

The man gave a dark chuckle "I'm already there sweetheart." 

Without any warning they pushed me backwards and I slipped  off the board making eye contact with Sam for the last time. 

Soon I was met with the  salty water that welcomed me with cold stinging unforgivable arms.

The water surrounded me. 

The more I struggled to get out of my restraints the more disorientated I got. 

Up, down, left, right, nothing made any sense anymore I pushed with my bounded arms and legs but it was pointless as I sunk lower and lower. 

My lungs burned for more air and even though I knew it was impossible I still opened my mouth to scream for help. But instead of my voice, cold water quickly filled my lungs taking the rest of the fight I had left in me. 

My vision soon began to get blurry with black spots and it was harder for me to focus, I had nothing left in me to fight anymore. 

When I thought all hope was lost, air slowly filled my lungs.

I was coughing and gasping for the air my lungs were deprived of for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes.

Once I finished getting my breathe back to normal I started to scan my surroundings. I quickly realized I was on the bottom of the ocean instead of on shore like I originally thought. Confused, I tried to stand on my feet only to topple over and being even more confused I glanced down and realized a golden fish tail had replaced my legs.

"Oh my god," I gasped, reaching out to try and touch the tail only to see that  my forearms were still tied together, but now they were also littered in scales the same color as the ones ones on the tail.

"Woah I've never seen the god of the sea grant someone who was drowning a tail before."

I turn my head side to side trying to  search for the voice that had just spoken, "Hello? Is someone there?"

A man poked his head from behind a reef that was near by and for a moment I thought he was normal human, he was extremely handsome with his chocolate curly brown hair sticking slightly up and his brown eyes shining with curiosity but it was until he moved from behind it the reef that I noticed attached to his torso instead of legs like I was expecting he had a tail too, except his tail was a dark midnight blue color a stark contrast to my golden tail.

"Stay back!" I said in a panic pushing myself to the best of my ability farther away from him but only being able to accomplish moving a mere inch and clouds of sand to form around me.

He stopped moving towards me and was  staring at me cautiously from a short distance away with slightly wide eyes, as if afraid I was going to do anything drastic if he came any closer.

"Hey," he calmly spoke "It's okay I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Tom, can you tell me your name?"

"Serenity," I said curtly.

"Okay Serenity I'm going to come closer to untie you, that's all I would like to do is that okay with you?"

I nod my head slowly, not really understanding what was going on anymore.

But as soon as Tom started to approach me I went on high alert and began to  micro-manage his every move, making sure he won't trick and deceive me just like Sam had done. As he slowly began to untie and free me from the bindings that were still around my hands, he kept glancing at my tail making me even more nervous.

"Woah your tail is so cool! I've never seen a gold one before, I wonder why yours is gold, and not blue, green, or orange. Do you have any ideas?" he pondered.

I chose to stay quiet instead of answering him, I just stared up looking toward the surface and wondering what my life was going to be like from here.

[janeyseymour]

It’s Not What You Think

Katherine finds some papers in Jane's room that worry her. It turns out that what she finds isn't what she thought.

Hi loves! This idea has floated around in my head for a little bit, and I finally got around to writing it (Thank goodness for spring break!)

TW// ideas of suicidal thoughts (although not explicit, just alluding to them)

On that note, I do hope that you all have a lovely day!

WC: 4697

“Guys, look at what I just found in Mum’s room,” Katherine called out in a panic from the third queen’s bedroom. The other four queens quickly made their way into Jane’s room.

“Where is Janey anyway?” Anne asked. “Why are you snooping in her stuff? I know you aren’t trying to find blackmail on her.”

“No, no,” Katherine waved her hands frantically. “I was just trying to do her a favor. You know, she’s always cleaning the house up, so I thought I would do her a favor and clean up her room. Well, this one notebook was open, and I couldn’t help but glance at what was written on the page it was open to. I’m worried about her.” She gestured to the notebook wildly.

Anne, ever the nosy one, was the one to grab the book and began to read out loud.

Queens,

I think that my time on this earth for the second time is coming to an end. I don't know if I’m going to survive this, but if I don’t, I don’t want to leave you with the idea that my heart was not with you guys. It will always be with you all, no matter where I am. On each page after this one, I will address each one of you individually, but know that you six are my heart and my soul. I can only hope that if I do pass, I hope you keep the little legacy that I have alive. Know that you are all strong and powerful women, and I’ll be watching you from above. All my love goes out to you, and I am so grateful for the family we have become. I cannot wait to see you loves again.

All my love,

Janey

To Catherine-

“What the hell?” Anne snapped, her eyes meeting a teary eyed Catherine of Aragon.

“Surely this isn’t what we think it is. There has to be some sort of explanation to this.

There has to be,” the gold queen reasoned. “There’s no way this is what we think it is.”

“How do we even approach this?” Cleves questioned. “Even if Seymour was, you know,”

she trailed off slightly. “She wouldn’t just outright admit it to us.”

“There’s got to be another reason for this. We just have to ask her,” Cathy spoke clearly,

often the voice of reason in the house when Jane wasn’t around.

The blonde, blissfully unaware of the situation, had gone out alone to buy groceries.

When the others realized that this was one of the rare times that the silver queen hadn’t asked any of them to go with her, a tension in the room had built up.

“I’m just going to call her and see when she’s coming home.” Kat opened her contacts and scrolled to Jane- “Mum” it read. She pressed the call button and waited with baited breath, hoping the third queen would answer.

“Hi love!” Jane’s cheerful voice rang through once the line had connected. “Did you need me?”

“I was just wondering when you were coming home?” Kat tried to hide the shaking in her voice.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? Oh god, tell me Anne didn’t try to cook again. I’ll be home as soon as possible,” the third monarch’s voice rose in pitch as she began to ponder what could have prompted this phone call from her daughter.

“No, I just wanted to know when you were coming home. You’ve been out a while.”

“I’ll be home soon dear. I just have to hunt down a few more items on the list, and then I’ll be on my way back to make dinner.”

“Promise?” the fifth queen blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Do I promise that I’m coming home to make dinner?” Jane was confused. Why on Earth would she not come home?

“Mhmm.” It was hard to ignore the fact that Katherine had almost sounded like a child, uncertain of something.

“Of course I promise love. Are you sure you’re alright?” Jane’s tone became softer, and her pace in the grocery store quickened. 

“I, uh, yeah. I just got worried. Like I said, you’ve been out a while. I’ve missed having you around the house today.”

“I’m sorry honey. I’ll be home soon, I promise you.”

“Okay,” Kat’s voice became a bit lighter at the confirmation that Jane would in fact be home that night. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“You aren’t bothering me love. I’ve missed you today too. I’ll be home soon, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too Mum.” Kat hung up and informed the others that Jane was, in fact, alright and would be returning back shortly.

“What the hell?” Jane muttered to herself after she hung up with the pink haired queen. Why on Earth had Kat been so concerned that she might not return home that night? She stopped in the middle of the aisle she was in to send a text to Catherine.

[To Lina: Kat just called me and sounded like something was rattling her. Think you could see if you could comfort her at all?]

“Jane just texted me regarding your phone call. She knows something is up,” Catalina sighed.

When the third queen walked through the door, she barely had time to put down the groceries in her hands before the fifth queen had tackled her in a hug.

“Mum,” Katherine sighed into the blonde’s cardigan.

“Hi love,” Jane wrapped her arms around the younger queen. “Not that I’m not loving the greeting I just got, but what’s going on? Are you alright dear?”

“I’m a lot better now that you’re home.” Kat made no moves to let go of the older woman.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy I’m home. Do you think you could help me with the groceries? And then while I’m making dinner, you’re more than welcome to help out or keep me company.”

Katherine Howard hadn’t left Jane Seymour’s side since the older monarch had gotten home. The only time they had been apart since she had gotten home was the few moments where Jane excused herself to go to the bathroom. Throughout dinner, the others kept giving their motherly queen concerned glances that she was clearly picking up on, but no one would say why. What the hell had happened while she was gone for a few short hours to pick up groceries? 

“Katherine dear, tell me what’s going on in that sweet head of yours,” Jane muted the television show that the two were watching and faced the younger woman.

“It’s just been a weird day for me, and I missed you. You comfort me in a way that the others can't. I just needed some Mum Janey warmth, you know?” the third queen nodded and settled back into her position.

After some time, it was apparent that the fifth queen was entranced with whatever program had been on- Jane hadn’t really been paying attention. Instead her attention was on the younger woman tucked into her side. How she wished she could read the pinked haired queen’s mind to ease whatever was making her Katherine so anxious. Shuffling over a little, she pulled her phone from her pocket.

[To Lina: Do you have a minute to chat?]

[From Lina: Yeah. Do you want to come up to my room or should I come down?]

[To Lina: I’ll come up.]

“Love? Lina just asked me for some help in her room. Will you be alright if I leave you here for a bit? I can always ask Anne to come sit with you if you’d like? Or Anna?” She knew those two also had a way of keeping the fifth queen from feeling overwhelmed (well, sometimes. Everyone knew that it really did depend on the situation- sometimes they were calming, and sometimes they were the ones making everyone feel overwhelmed with their chaos). 

“I’ll be okay.” Kat’s eyes stayed glued to the television screen. Jane nodded and made her way up to the yellow room.

“Okay, I’m going to be upfront here because I’m genuinely worried about what’s wrong with my daughter,” Jane rushed out, wasting no time. She was determined to be back downstairs and on the couch with the youngest queen as quickly as possible.

“The question is Jane: Are you alright?” Catherine’s expression was different than it usually was. The face that was usually so stoic expressed genuine concern. The voice that never wavered no matter what- Jane could hear a slight quiver in her voice, brokenness and concern evident.

“Why would I not be?” Jane tried not to sound defensive.

The gold queen stood from her bed and closed the door quietly before embracing the blonde. “Listen, it’s okay to admit that you’re going through a hard time, but ending it won’t-”

“What on God’s green Earth are you talking about?” Jane pulled away from the hispanic just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Oh thank god,” Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank god for what?” Jane asked incredulously. Why was everyone walking on eggshells with her?

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

“Well, now I’m really concerned. What did you all do that would upset me?” When Catherine took hold of Jane’s hand and led her to the grey bedroom, it was clear to the blonde someone had been in her room.

“Kat was trying to be nice and help clean your room for you since you’re always doing so much around the house, and-”

Jane interrupted her friend, “-Why would I be mad about that? That’s so kind of her.”

“She found this.” Catalina took the notebook with her letters out. Jane looked at her confused, so the first queen continued. “We’re worried about you Jane.”

The third queen read over what she had written, but she was confused as to why it would be alarming to her friends. Sometimes, she could be a bit dense, but none of them thought she could be this oblivious.

“I don’t see why you’re concerned?”

“Jane, are you planning on... you know?” And then it clicked in the silver queen’s head. They thought these were...

“Oh!” Jane’s hand flew to her mouth in realization. “Oh heavens no. Oh my gosh no! I’m so content with my life! I would never dream of doing such a thing! This isn’t what you think.”

“Please tell me why you wrote these. Please,” Catherine pleaded. “And be honest. Please.”

“Do you remember those two weeks where I told you all I had to quarantine because I had Covid before everything shut down?”

“You didn’t have Covid, did you?”

Jane had woken up that morning feeling strange. A dull pain in her stomach was there, but she chose to ignore it. She had a family to take care of and a show to put on that night. As the day went on though, the pain never subsided. In fact, it only got worse. She pushed the pain down though. The best way to not throw herself into a panic attack over an aching stomach was to simply ignore it, or at least attempt to. It was best not to worry about something that would quickly go away, or so she had thought. 

That night, the show went on. With every movement, the blonde had to conceal her winces and the movement that was required of her only made the pain worse. “Heart of Stone” was a mess in itself. The required breath control she needed was enough to make her tear up with every deep breath she took before allowing the melody to dance its way into others’ hearts. As she sang the song, she listened to the words she was singing. It was as if the lyrics were meaning something different to her tonight- she might have to go soon if this pain continued. Surely, she wouldn’t want to alarm the girls, but she knew she had to go to the hospital after the show. 

To anyone watching this performance, Jane’s performance of her song alone was absolutely stellar. The tears flowed freely. What people thought was the blonde’s beautiful storytelling and emotion over her son was in fact the third queen’s pain that she had been attempting to conceal for the past however many hours finally coursing through her body. She was able to release it there under disguise. It took her a few seconds longer to regain herself once her song ended, not quite ready to endure the pain of the second half of the show.

Seymour was never the first off the stage. That night though, she was. It didn’t take long for the others to notice that something was amiss with their friend.

“Seymour?” Jane looked to the fourth queen. “You good?” She nodded.

“I’m alright. I’m not feeling too well at the moment, but I’ll be okay.” She replaced the pained look on her face that had betrayed her with a more neutral expression.

“You better not have Covid,” Anna joked. Jane considered what her successor had just said: that was her way out.

It was an early night for each of the queens. Show days were always early nights, especially when they had another show the next day. Once everyone had settled in for the night, Jane took a notebook out. The pain in her side was unbearable, reminding her of the way she had felt in the last moments of her last life. If she was going to die a second time, it would only make sense that she would die in a similar way to her first life: painful stomach infections. She would write out a message to each of her queens, letting them know just how much she loved each and every one of them- hoping to pass time and ensure that all the other women in the house were asleep before she would make a trip to the hospital.

Queens,

I think that my time on this earth for the second time is coming to an end. I don't know if I’m going to survive this, but if I don’t, I don’t want to leave you with the idea that my heart was not with you guys. It will always be with you all, no matter where I am. On each page after this one, I will address each one of you individually, but know that you six are my heart and my soul. I can only hope that if I do pass, I hope you keep the little legacy that I have alive. Know that you are all strong and powerful women, and I’ll be watching you from above. All my love goes out to you, and I am so grateful for the family we have become. I cannot wait to see you loves again.

All my love,

Janey

To Catherine- Where do I even begin to start this? You are my absolute best friend. I cherish each and every moment we have made together, both in this life and our past. You are truly a wonderful, wonderful human being that I am so blessed to have gotten to know over the past years, and I can not wait to see where you go in this life (because you know for a fact I will be watching our family from above). Without you, I’m not sure I would’ve grown into the woman I became. You instilled so much love and heart into me- and without you I don’t think I ever would’ve broken out of my shell. I would’ve stayed the mild mannered yet somewhat bitter woman I was. I never would’ve had the chance to connect with Katherine. If my time on this earth truly has come to an end, please love that girl. Love all of the girls. Love yourself. Stay you Catalina. You have a heart of gold. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

To Anne- Oh Anne, you crazy, crazy woman who I have come to love like a sister. Thank you for bringing so much energy and sunshine into my life (along with the many messes that I’ve had to clean up, both literally and figuratively). You are such a ball of energy with a heart that is like no other. I cannot thank you enough for our time together. I know that we’ve had our differences, but dammit if we didn’t shove it in the universe’s face and come out of it on the other side as friends... no, sisters... Thank you for being the kind, caring, compassionate woman that you are. I cannot wait to see what else you have to do in this life. I’ll be watching. Please do your best to not get arrested when I’m gone though... I have a feeling that I’m the only one who would bail you out of jail at 3 in the morning because of public urination. I love you oh so much. 

To Anna- Cleves. Cleves. Cleves. You truly are a one of a kind human being. Know that even though you have always been the complete opposite of me (tall, tough, a boss ass bitch- you know) I have always looked up to you and your ability to be one of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Stay you and keep on loving yourself and the girls. I hope you know how dearly I love you.

To Cathy- Oh Cathy Parr, where would I be without you? Certainly, I wouldn’t have been able to write all of these letters, although I do wish my showing off my writing skills would’ve been under better circumstances. Thank you for being the beautiful and kindhearted person that you are. Keep using your voice to empower everyone around you. All that you’ve done up to this point has made me so incredibly proud of you, and I know that when I’m watching you from above, you will only continue to do so. Gold star for you Cathy Parr. I love you oh so much.

And to my Kat- Katherine, I hope you know just how much I love you. You truly are the most earnest and loving young woman I’ve ever met, and I am so thankful for the time that we’ve had together. We met under the strangest circumstances, and if anybody had told me I would slowly adopt a nineteen year old when we first came back, I would have thought they were crazy. But my heavens, I wouldn't change what we have for the world. I know if you are reading this, I’ve passed, and I can only hope you know that I’m watching you from above. All you did on Earth up until the point of my leaving made me so incredibly proud- growing from the shy and quiet Katherine Howard into this... elegant and kind hearted, passionate and outspoken Katherine Seymour. It truly was magical to watch. Continue to make me proud, love. I know you will. I love you with my everything sweet one. 

The blonde closed the notebook and laid it on her pillow before she carefully snuck down the steps as quickly as she could. Glancing at the clock, it was only about 11:30 at night. If her health was on her side, she would be back in time for the girls to not know she had been anywhere in the first place. 

“So you didn’t have Covid?” Catherine interrupted Jane’s story. Jane only shook her head before continuing.

By the time she had gotten to the hospital, she could barely support herself. If she had made it through an entire 80 minute cardio routine, she could muster up the strength to walk into the hospital. How wrong she had been. About five steps into the walk, the blonde’s nearly legs gave out, the pain overtaking her body. Never one to give up though, she struggled her way into the emergency room, startling the woman at the desk.

“Stomach, killing me,” Jane breathed out. “Please help.” 

“Appendicitis is a tricky one. You’re lucky you came in when you did. Another hour or so, and it would’ve burst,” a doctor informed the third queen after she had woken up from her appendectomy. 

“How long until I can go back to my usual routine?” Jane asked in a bored manner. “I do have a show to be in.”

“Should be about two weeks.”

“When can I leave this place?” The silver queen felt bad for treating the doctor in a rude manner, but if she could avoid having the others fuss over her while she recovered by being back home before they could even be aware she was gone, she would.

“You should be able to leave relatively soon seeing that you’re already awake and seem to be reacting normally to the medicine. Just need someone to pick you up.”

“Bloody hell,” Jane muttered to herself. How was she going to get around this one?

Jane had gotten into the taxi that was supposedly going to take her home, but before the driver could pull away, she slipped him the money she would owe him and requested that he drive around the block before dropping her back off here.

“That’s an odd request.”

“Just can’t have the doctors knowing I’m going to drive myself home.”

“Ma’am, don’t you think you should follow doctors’ orders and not drive home if-”

“-I live literally two blocks away. I just need to get my car back home without raising any questions from my housemates.”

Jane had arrived home just as the others were getting up. Putting a mask on, she entered the house and tried to ignore the pain where her appendix had just been removed.

“Mum!” Katherine smiled. “Where were you?” She began to get up from her spot on the couch, but Jane stopped her quickly.

“I was feeling a little ill yesterday, so I made an appointment to get tested for Covid. I have it. I’ve got to quarantine for two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” Catherine breathed out. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright. Just a bit short of breath, and my head hurts. I’m heading up to my room for the next two weeks. If you need me, feel free to call or text me. I’ll try to order groceries and things like that to be delivered here later in the week. Text me the things we need. Just stay away from my room. I’d rather none of you get sick.” The others wished her well and set out to call the managers of the show. Surely, they would have to cancel the next two weeks of performances.

The third queen truly felt guilty lying to her family, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to tell them the real reason she wouldn’t be able to be in the show for the next two weeks. In reality, the blonde had done them a favor: their managers would all end up with Covid the next week. The queens would stay Covid free.

“Jane Seymour are you bloody kidding me?” The younger monarch shook her head. “You had a near death experience, and instead of telling any of us about it, you wrote letters to us in case you died?”

Now that the silver queen was hearing what had transpired, she felt a bit silly.

“I’m sorry. I just-”

“We would’ve been there for you! You didn’t have to hide that from us! God, you really are unbelievable sometimes!” Although there was annoyance in her voice, Catherine hadn’t made any moves to release Jane from the hug she was holding her in.

“I just didn’t want to inconvenience you all.” Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Our show would’ve gotten canceled for the next however long we were closed after the mandatory shutdown happened anyway. And our managers ended up getting Covid, so really... Maybe I saved us from getting Covid?”

“Well, you might have, but for God’s sake Jane, why wouldn’t you tell any of us? You know we would’ve been more than happy to help out!”

“Well, yeah. I know that. I just,” the third queen paused to try to figure out how to articulate her feelings. “I’m supposed to be the mother of the household. It would feel weird to have had you guys helping me out as opposed to the other way around?”

“Honey, we helped you out anyway. We had to bring your food to your room, all that stuff,” Catherine countered.

“Yeah,” Jane drew out. “I didn’t want you guys to see me as weak though.”

“Weak?”

“Yeah. Like, I had succumbed to yet another stomach infection.”

“You couldn’t help that?” The first queen stared at her incredulously. Her best friend really could be dense sometimes- thinking they would find her weak for not being able to magically heal from something that had the potential to kill her. 

“I mean, now that we’re talking about it, it feels kind of silly.”

“Yeah,” The first queen finally laxed her grip on the blonde. “Those notes were what had Katherine worried.”

“It makes sense now I suppose. I guess I should go talk to her,” Jane made a move to get up before a delicate hand held her wrist, stopping her from moving. 

“The entire house knows. I think we need to have a family meeting.”

“Is that why everyone was looking at me so worriedly at dinner tonight?” Catalina nodded. 

[From Jane, to the Queens group chat: Family meeting right now, mandatory. Meet in the living room please.]

The queens, sans for Katherine who was already there, made their way down to the living room a bit confused. Why was Jane calling this meeting? Wasn’t she the one they were concerned for? Maybe this was her cry for help.

“Hi loves,” Jane greeted warmly once everyone had gathered in the room. “So, I figured we should address what you guys found.”

“Mum I’m really sorry I was going through your-”

“It’s quite alright. Lina told me you were just trying to help me out.”

“Janey if you need help, please-”

“Anne, let her speak. I think you’ll all be interested to hear what she has to say,” Catherine quipped from next to the silver queen. 

“Do you remember those two weeks where I told you all I had to quarantine because I had Covid before everything shut down?” The blonde started her story for the other queens the same way she did for Catalina. The others nodded, and Jane dove into her story.

“...And now that I’ve explained myself and Catherine and I have spoken, I know it sounds silly what I did, and I’m really sorry for worrying you all.” All of the queens, aside from the first who had already heard the ridiculous story, could only stare at Jane in disbelief. 

Katherine was the first to break the silence. “Oh thank god,” she muttered, attaching herself to her maternal figure. “I thought I was going to lose you.” Jane strengthened the hug.

“Are you kidding me Seymour?” Cleves could only hum out.

“Jane, you know we’re all here for you- no matter what,” Cathy mused. “You’re always helping us when we’re sick, right? You don’t see it as a sign of weakness, do you?”

“Well, no. That would be si-” The blonde paused, mulling over what the sixth queen had asked her. “-You got me.” She pointed a finger towards the writer, a small smile appearing on her face. Cathy always knew how to ground the third queen.

“Please let us know the next time you aren’t feeling well, and please tell us the truth.”

“I will. I’m sorry for concerning you all.” Jane had the decency to appear bashful, but in truth, she was absolutely guilt ridden for making her family worry this much about her over something so stupid (in her mind).

“Don’t worry about it Janey. It’s not like tomorrow I won't be the one concerning you,” Anne smirked.

“Anne Boleyn!”

All was right in their world again, but that didn’t stop Katherine from gluing herself to the third queen’s side for the rest of the night.

[spencerreidscoffeecup]

Chapter 22 | Broken

CW: angst, hickies, crying, talk of case, talk of schizophrenia, possible death, cliff-hanger

--

Reader's POV:

"Honey, come cuddle with me," Spencer whined, wrapping his hands around my waist and placing his head on my shoulder. "We've already planned everything and we have work tomorrow. It's already a quarter past eleven."

Spencer and I sat on our bed, the soft blankets and pillows teasing me to go to sleep, but I was determined.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Spence, I'm almost done. I'm just making sure everyone is coming."

Spencer and I had been diligently planning the wedding, and he was getting impatient. We had already set everything up. We had already figured out where the wedding would be held, what cake and decorations we wanted, the theme in general, and had invited all of the guests. Spence and I were thrilled to say the very least. He has helped me so much throughout the planning process, but I could tell that if it was up to him, we would just get married tonight, or elope. And truth be told, I felt the exact way. I just wanted to be with him. I didn't care about a fancy wedding. Although, we wanted to have Diana see her son get married, therefore we decided to just have a small--but beautiful- wedding. And even though we were practically done with planning, my constant need to make things perfect kept nagging on me, giving Spencer and I less time to do intimate things. We would shower together and cuddle, exchange kisses, etcetera; but it wasn't like before as we were both very busy with wedding planning and work.

"I'll give you a massage," Spencer teased, kissing my neck softly.

"A massage?"

"Mhm." he hummed against my skin.

I thought for a moment.

I still had thirteen more emails to go over.

"Ugh, I can't. I have so much to do and--" a low sigh fell from my lips as Spencer's fingers kneaded my shoulders. My head tilted back slightly as he kissed the nape of my neck, using his skillful fingers to distract me as he took his left hand off of my back and closed the laptop.

"You've done so much, sweetheart. You need to relax for a moment." he shushed, littering light kisses on my shoulder and neck.

"Y-yeah I guess I could just relax--" a small moan hummed from my lips as Spencer's fingers worked through a sensitive spot.

"Yeah?" he mocked teasingly, and I nodded, my eyes closed and eyebrows strewn together.

"Mhm."

My back arched slightly as his fingers danced upon my skin, rubbing through tough spots.

"You really need to relax more, baby. You're really tight," Spencer whispered against my skin.

I felt my face grow pink and I felt him smirk.

"You're distracting." I managed to say.

"Am I?"

"Yes." I groan softly as his right hand works against my shoulder.

The blissful feelings of his hands kneading through the knots that had built underneath my skin felt euphoric. A beautiful silence drifted throughout the room besides the soft sounds of Spencer's lips pressing against my skin, and the soft moans of ease and released tension flowing from my lips were too good to be true.. Because, not even seconds later, a shrill ring brought Spencer and I out of our loving touches and trances.

I flopped down on the bed next to Spencer and sighed as he answered the phone, hoisting myself up as my lips trailed up his naked chest and to his neck as I heard Hotch on the other line.

Damn it.

Another case.

"A-alright, thanks," Spencer spoke into the phone, his free hand's fingers lightly tracing down my spine. "Yes I'll- Okay, yep. I'll tell her. Th-thank you."

Spencer hung up, bringing his warm hands on my face and planting a light kiss on my lips. "We have another case. We have to be on the jet in forty-five." he murmured, pecking my lips again as I softly groaned out of annoyance.

"Why," I whined like a child, pouting. "I wanted to sleep and do more stuff!"

Spencer laughed softly. "You can sleep on the jet. And I'll massage you once we get to the hotel. In the meantime, you can wear one of my sweaters and we can sleep on the couch after the briefing." He kissed my lips again, getting up from the bed and grabbing a light pink button up from the closet, rolling the sleeves up his forearms and combing his fingers through his hair.

My heart throbbed in my chest at the sight.

I am so in love with him.

I hopped out of bed, standing on my tippy-toes and kissing him on the lips as I walked to the laundry room to grab my pants.

--

We had made it on the jet in almost record time, Spencer's sweater hugging my body almost as comfortingly as Spencer himself hugging me.

"Bonjour, love-birds," Derek smirked, looking at my neck. "Guess the sweater doesn't cover everything, huh, Princess? Looks like you got her real good, Prettyboy." he chuckled, loading his luggage onto the jet.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my hand instinctively flying to my neck.

"Why don't you go look in the mirror?"

I turned to Spencer, who was biting back a big grin.

I rolled my eyes, walking quickly to the jet bathroom.

Jesus. Christ.

Spencer had left a purple hickey on my neck, and didn't even tell me!

I walked out, slapping Spencer's arm.

"Ow! Wh-?"

"Spencer!" I interrupted, then motioned to the bruise on my neck. "Seriously?"

He just laughed.

Yes, that's right.

That motherfucker laughed.

"I'm sorry, honey.. I just wanted you to have fun!"

Truthfully, I wasn't mad. I liked the idea that people could see a glimpse into just a fraction of the things Spencer does to me. However, I acted upset.

"You are on my list, Doctor Reid!" I warned, squishing his face together with my hand.

"You have a list?" he muffled out.

"I didn't until now."

Once again, he laughed; I couldn't help but laugh too.

--

This case was.. extremely complicated to say the very least.

Women, men, and children had all gone missing around two weeks ago. At first, the police department thought it was a coincidence, but they later found out that it was all because of the same person.

We had been in San Diego for over eight days now, and we had finally just found our guy.

Robert Ramirez.

56 years old.

Obsessed with creating the "perfect family".

He had been broadcasting the torture for over a week now, and thanks to the lovely Penelope Garcia, we had finally found his location and was heading his way. Robert had schizophrenia, and was trying to replicate a perfect family he had seen on television when he was a young boy. Ever since then, it had been his goal to create a perfect family.

It started out harmless, with his dolls and action figures, but then quickly grew into an obsession around his late twenties when no one wanted to marry him. It was very sad to say the least, and I could tell that the schizophrenic portion of the case bothered Spencer, and although he tried to hide it-- I could tell.

The team split up in a hurry, going in separate vehicles. I sat next to Spencer who opted to drive and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before exiting the police department's parking lot.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing my lips very softly once more.

"I love you," I whispered in return, pecking him quickly on the lips before taking off down the road.

I love you.

-

Gunshots.

Gunshots sounded throughout the storage unit we were heading into.

I looked around.

No Spencer.

My heart pounded in my chest.

I looked around once more.

No Spencer.

I followed Emily who was heading towards the gunshots.

I looked around frantically.

Still, no Spencer.

Oh, God.

Please.

Faint screams sang throughout the building from a distance.

"Upstairs." Emily spoke, and I followed after.

"Wait, where's Spencer?" I asked.

"I think he's with Morgan and Hotch upstairs."

Oh, okay.

That's good.

That means he's okay.

We made our way upstairs to where the gunshots sounded more prominent.

Everything would be okay since Spencer is here--

My stomach dropped.

My throat tightened.

Morgan and Hotch stood outside of a metal door...

Spencer's vest on the floor next to them.

A voice.

I heard a voice.

His voice.

Spencer's voice.

It was faint, but it was there.

He was inside with the unsub.

Without his protection.

"You don't have to hurt anybody, Robert," he said calmly.

"Hotch, why doesn't Spencer have his vest on--" I whispered, the urge to cry beginning to get more and more significant.

Hotch's stern look never softened once. "He's talking down the unsub. He didn't want to frighten Robert. It'll be okay; we have back up."

"Why would you let him in without a fucking vest on?" I whispered, and Hotch ignored my obscene language.

"Y/l/n, he just went in. I didn't want him to, but there is no going back now," Hotch saw the way my face dropped. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop him but--"

Gunshots rang through my ears.

My heart practically froze in my chest.

The gunshots echoed throughout my ears like a shrill scream in a tunnel.

A few seconds passed.

Quiet.

"Hotch, should we go in, or--" Morgan whispered.

"Hold on." Hotch held his gun up.

A minute passed.

What do I do.

Oh, God.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

Two minutes gone.

Two minutes have passed.

Two, three, four.

Four minutes slip from my grasp.

Tears stream down my face.

Oh, God.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

What do I do.

Five minutes.

Gone.

Spencer?

Gone.

"Hotch-," my voice cracks, Emily puts her hand on my back.

Spencer.

Dead.

------

AN:

I know, this was an extremely short chapter, but I promise the next is longer lol.

This will probs be the shortest it gets.. ANYWAY love you all sm!! <33

[sapphiewritesandstuff]

So it Turns Out Casper the Ghost is Real

I wrote this weeks ago but was too scared to post it...

Paring: Hanako-kun x reader

Word Count：2574

The sound of the lock clicking open eased your frustrations as the said lock falls away, enabling you to pry open the door of your school. Moonlight shone down on you, and you can almost sense the moon’s face of disappoint as it watched you literally break into your school at night for some stupid dare.

It is currently 2:50 AM on a Tuesday morning. Why are you here? Well, it’s all because of a stupid dare. You swallow back a yawn, cursing softly as you trip over absolutely nothing on your way in. Not a bad omen at all, you thought to yourself, closing the door you had just opened with a soft thud.

You winced, goosebumps appearing on your skin, as you listened intently for the sounds of any security guards (or something more sinister and inhuman) in the dark, silent school. Nothing. You released a breath of relief then stiffening when the next task you have to perform came to mind.

“Hm… let’s see, (Name)-chan…” Your friend narrowed her eyes at you, her cruel smirk sent pangs of fear in your heart. “I dare you to go to the school Thursday night, and at 3:00 AM sharp, call Hanako-san in the third floor bathroom, and stay the night in that bathroom!”

You froze in fear, struggling not to let her see your weakness. Your other ‘friends’ snickered and you heard comments of, “Ha, good one,” and “I bet she’s too chicken to actually do it.”

“Are you s-c-a-r-e-d, (Name)?” She asked, dragging out the syllable of the word scared, giggling.

“O-of course not!” You stammered, cursing the shaking of your voice, knowing all too well what would happen if you refused her request. Mocked and laughed at for months. Whispers of how much of a scaredy-cat you were. No, you are not going to let that happen.

“I’ll do it.”

Those three words made you regret everything.

Still, as you began your climb to the third floor, you chanted quietly, “I’m not scared, I’m not a chicken, I can do it, ghosts don’t exist,” hoping to trick yourself into thinking these words are true.

Second floor. You don’t know why you’re still friends with them. You were always an outcast, not going along with trends or worshiping the ground the school idols walked on (cough, Teru Minamoto, cough). However, they were the first people to ‘accept’ you for who you are. Or so you thought. Deep down, you know what they are doing. Hanging around you just so they can laugh at your misfortunes and damage your already shattered reputation. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to leave them. I wonder why, you thought bitterly.

The quiet sounds of your steps are the only things to be heard in the vast, empty school building. The silence gave you the creeps, you shivered at the thought of the confined girl’s bathroom, the darkness, the-

“Stop, (Name), stop. You’re just scaring yourself. Nothing’s going to happen, nothing’s going to happen.”

The darkness swam before your eyes and you had to lean against the walls to steady yourself. You had spent the entirety of last night twisting and turning in your bed, scenarios of what could happen playing in your head endlessly until the first rays of dawn beamed into your room.

Nevertheless, despite how sleep deprived you were, you felt no sense of exhaustion, only fear and stifling nervousness. You checked your watch, 2:54 AM. You had only 6 minutes to get to the bathroom and begin the ritual.

You fast-walked up the last flight of the stairs, stopping before the doorway of the bathroom. You could see the silvers of moonlight shining in from the windows. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, stepping into the semi-darkness cautiously.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the bathroom is still the bathroom. No creepy ghost girl in red skirts awaited you and you released the breath you had been holding. Approaching the third stall, you blinked at the red door, imaging what would happen, rejecting the other possibility.

You would knock three times, say, “Hanako-san, Hanako-san, are you there?” and an awkward silence would ensue between you and the bathroom door. Then, you can successfully prove that the legend is nothing but a rumor, stay the night, and prove to your stupid friends you are NOT a scaredy-cat.

Or, the door would creak open and the disembodied figure of a ghost girl would-

That would not happen!

You shook your head hard, the momentum almost launching your small form sideways to the floor.

Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep!

The sound of the alarm on your watch scared you to your wit’s end, heart almost leaping out of your throat.

3:00 AM. Time’s up.

You frantically turned it off, trying to steady your heart rate. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your right hand, knocking softly on the door three times. In a small, soft voice, you breathed out, “Hanako-san, Hanako-san, are you there?”

Silence. You retracted your hand, giddy with the realization that this rumor is false and no ghost is going to appear to-

The bathroom door creaked, a hand reaching around it, “Here I am,” a voice said in a sing-song tone.

You paled, stumbling back a few feet, back hitting the bathroom wall, eyes fixed on the hand. You blinked. It was gone. The bathroom door opened completely, revealing-

Nothing. There were no ghost girls, no red skirts, just a good-old toilet in a bathroom stall.

You let out a breath for what seems like the nth time today, walking forward to examine the stall.

Only to feel a hand rest on your shoulder along with the same voice whispering, “Over here.”

You screamed, stumbling around to see-

The figure of a boy, highlighted by the moonlight leaking through the windows, clad in what looks like uniform from a while ago, two strange, orb-like things floating around him. He himself is floating.

He chuckled, floating closer to you. You could almost see through him. Strangely, in this moment, you could feel no trace of fear, only wild bewilderment.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, voice full of amusement.

Debatable. “That’s it,” you whispered, slumping down, staring straight into his amber colored orbs.

“Hm?”

“I’ve finally cracked,” you continued, laughing weakly, “sleep deprivation finally caught up to me.” With that, your eyes promptly rolled up into your skull and you lost consciousness.

---

You awoke to someone nudging your cheek.

“Hello? Anyone home?” A boy’s voice asked. Wait. A boy? Your eyes snapped open. The strange ghost boy pokes your cheek one more time before stepping back with a grin, “You’re awake.”

“Who…?” You trailed off, still a little dazed.

“The seventh of the Seven Wonders of the School,” he said lightly, one hand gripping the brim of his hat, “Hanako-san of the Bathroom.”

His eyes glinted with mischief, “Nice to meet you.”

“... But you’re a boy! And what are you doing in the girl’s bathroom anyways? Are you just some perverted ghost pretending to be a School Wonder? If you really are Hanako-san, where’s your bob haircut? What about your red skirt?”

You could see Hanako lean away from your barrage of questions, as if they were a physical force.

“I am Hanako-san, but you can call me Hanako-kun! Yes, I’m a boy, but all the other rumors are true,” he replied, flashing you the peace signs, “and I’m just going to ignore that comment about ‘some perverted ghost’.”

You still couldn’t believe your eyes. You couldn’t decide if you are indeed seeing a ghost that is supposedly haunting the girl’s bathroom or if you’re hallucinating from the lack of sleep. Frankly, you decided the latter is more probable. But you decided to wait and see.

“I grant the wish of whoever summons me and take one thing as payment. You have a wish, right?” Hanako asked, head tilted to the side in an inquiring way that is admittingly adorable.

Wait, what? Adorable? No, no, no. Hanako is just a perverted ghost that lives in the girl’s bathroom (or a fragment of your imagination, you can’t decide). There’s nothing adorable about that.

“Uh… actually,” you purse your lips, reminded of the reason why you’re here.

“Don’t be shy! You can start by telling me your name,” the amber-eyed ghost said cheerfully, pulling out a notebook seemingly out of nowhere.

“It’s (Name) (Last Name).”

“(Name) (Last Name)... got it. Now, what do I have the pleasure of helping you with today?”

You looked off to the side, trying to come up with an appropriate response. “Well, you see, I was dared in a game of truth and dare to summon Hanako-san. I don't actually have a wish.”

His eyes widened, then narrowed. Hanako peered at you, finger on his chin in a contemplative gesture. “Young lady, summoning an apparition just for fun is a dangerous thing to do. If you’re not careful,” his voice lowered drastically, “there will be consequences.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “I can live with one bad decision.”

Hanako took a step closer to you, ducking down to peer up at your face. “Are you sure about that?”

No. “Yep,” you replied, turning around to place your backpack on the floor beside the sink, which at the same time gets your job done and simultaneously creates distance from the close position the two of you were in . Unzipping your bag, you took out a towel and a small blanket.

“What are you doing now~?”

You froze, Hanako’s voice right next to your ear. From this distance, you could feel the chilly air coming off of him. Spinning around, you plopped yourself down, trying to unfluster yourself. Why is he so close?

“I-I also have to stay the night as part of the dare,” you stuttered, turning your head to the side to avoid looking at the ghost.

“Really? Who came up with your dare?” Hanako asked, still floating a few inches off the ground. His voice isn’t as playful as it was before. Maybe it was just your imagination. You riffled through your backpack, shrugging your shoulders, “My friend.”

You heard his sigh of pity?-sympathy?-exasperation? “You must not have great friends.” His words were light, as if it didn’t matter much to him. You paused in your idle search to turn and glare at the amber eyed ghost.

Hanako floated in a relaxed position, hands behind his head. He wasn’t even looking at you. You felt the strange need to defend your friends. “They’re not too bad. Just kind of ride or die.”

In an instant, you fell back against the wall of the bathroom, narrowed amber eyes staring into your wide (Eye Color) ones. Hanako pinned your wrists down against the wall, leaning forward so that his cold breath tickled your ear.

“Ride or die, huh?” He murmured, “well, one day, your luck’s going to run out.” You gaped ahead, heart almost jumping out of your throat. “Wha-what do you mean?” You managed to get out, breath hitching in the middle of the sentence.

Hanako leaned back, releasing your wrists so that they fell limply against your sides. His eyes were weirdly intense. He ignored your question, choosing to stand back up to gaze at you from above. “What if they had asked you to go to a harmful spirit? One that kills humans?”

He bent down, hands behind his back, once again staring right into your eyes, “What then?”

You stared back, saying the only thing that came to mind. “You’re weird, Hanako-kun.”

He chuckled dryly, expression strangely forlorn, floating over to settle on a ledge by the window, “Am I now?”

You turned your face away from him to stare at the entrance of the bathroom. Silence settled upon the small bathroom. His mood sure changed quickly.

Instead of focusing on Hanako’s strange turn of emotions, you took this time to ponder his  words.

Deep down, you had always known these people were not your real friends. They never treated you as their equal, always degrading and mocking you and every one of your little quirks and hobbies. Their eyes flashing with cruel satisfaction whenever they see you down, stepping on your already bloodied form just to hear your pained cries.

Without your consent, a tear slid down your cheek. You stiffened, sitting up to rub the evidence of your weakness away. But they didn’t stop. Every touch only served as blows to the weakening dam of emotion.

“(Last Name)?” Hanako’s voice sounded, urging you to wipe at your damp cheeks more frantically. When you didn’t respond, he stepped towards your quivering form, brows slightly knitted in concern.

Hanako knelt behind you, a hand extended, intended to rest on your shaking shoulder. His eyes widened a smidge when he caught sight of your flushed and damp cheeks as you turned to slap his hand away.

A sob tore from your throat when the amber-eyed ghost’s concerned expression came into view. Seeing it only made your chest tighter. You wanted someone to hug you, a real friend, someone who truly cares for you, for your wellbeing, for your emotions.

With the surges of emotion came your words. “I know they don’t care,” you whispered, voice thick from your tears.

“(Last Na)-?”

“I know they aren’t really my friends!” You yelled, twisting around to glare at Hanako with watery eyes and damp cheeks. “I know they only keep me around to make fun of me, I know everyone thinks I’m weird, and I know you don’t really care either.” Your voice began to grow gradually quieter, so that your last proclamation was barely audible.

You watched Hanako’s mouth open, probably ready to throw more lies at you. “You don’t have to pretend. After all, why should you bother? Why should anyone?”

You buried your head in your arms, turning away from the boy.

“I’ll be your friend,” his voice sounded soft, very close, but you can’t be bothered to lift your head anymore. However, you didn’t expect it when arms snaked around your form, pressing you to a lukewarm body. Instinctively, your own wrapped around him.

It was strangely comforting.

Too tired to protest, you straightened yourself and laid your head on Hanako’s chest, snuggling up to him. You heard a soft chuckle through a haze of sadness and exhaustion. The sensation of someone stroking your hair is comforting and the arm looped around your waist feels right somehow.

You wanted to let yourself fall into the comforting darkness known as sleep, but a particular detail keeps jabbing you in the side.

“You will?”

“Hm?” You could feel his chest rumbling with the sound. “Be my friend?” You slurred.

“Of course. Now go to sleep, you look horrible like this,” Hanako’s voice is teasing, but you’re too tired to care anymore, so you just flopped your arm against his side in protest. He didn’t even flinch.

“One more thing,” you had no idea how you’re still awake but you managed to lift your head and get out, “since we’re friends, please call me (Name).”

You wonder if life would be different after this. You wonder if, with Hanako, you can make better memories than with the others.

You wonder if you can remember to falcon punch your ‘friend’ in her smug, self-satisfied face when you wake up.

[amydancepants-peralta]

i love your precious heart

(chapter seven of we’re the fortunate ones) ♥️

season seven: i love your precious heart

For the longest time, there was a part of Jake Peralta that genuinely didn’t believe he was deserving of any special kind of love or affection.  Years of rejection; from the revolving doors made up of fathers, step-fathers and short-lived relationships, had led to the once quiet inner voices growing louder - reminding him every chance they could that any state of legitimate happiness simply was not meant for him.

(Dr. Marcia, the therapist he’s been seeing once a fortnight for a close to a year now, has helped him to understand this.)

This New Year’s Eve, standing here on the fire escape that runs along the outside of the apartment he shares with his wife, is not one of those moments.

Their plans for the evening had skewed slightly from their original schedule, partially because Jake had heard the sighs of dejection Amy made when she’d returned yet another ill-fitting dress back into their wardrobe.  Her body is changing in a lot of ways this year - some of them rapidly, others sneaking up on her so slowly it drove her insane - and when he remembered that Amy hadn’t really had the chance to go shopping for a decent range of maternity clothes yet, Jake had moved quickly to devise an alternative plan that seemed both spontaneous and not-at-all-related to a lack of party outfit options.  

Pouring them each a glass of sparkling apple cider (if Amy can’t drink, then Jake can’t drink - and he’s not interested in hearing arguments that suggest otherwise), he had googled events that were happening nearby, found one with fireworks, and with his brilliant detective skills had deduced that their fire escape will face exactly the right direction to watch the show without ever having to leave their house.  And maybe Amy had already been hoping that he would come to the same conclusion, or maybe she was just a really big fan of fire escape parties (he suspects, though, that it is the former) but either way, her dress had been swapped for sweatpants within minutes of Jake’s suggestion, and the relaxation on her face simply made her all the more beautiful.

They’d spent the entire evening rotating between the living room and the tiny space outside that Jake had stocked up with blankets and snacks, talking and laughing as they reminisced the year that was.  There had even been a sweet little slow dance, to a song playing on Jake’s phone as it stayed nestled in his pocket - and it would have been totally romantic, if it hadn’t been interrupted by some dude yarfing onto the street below.   Still, the feeling of holding his wife in his arms, while their baby stayed nestled in-between them, was something that Jake will hold onto forever.  

The breeze has grown colder now, the wind rustling through Jake’s hair as he waits for Amy to return from her seventeenth trip to the bathroom (sadly, not an exaggeration), and as he reaches into the storage box for another blanket for his wife, Jake finds himself looking back on the last few months with a smile.  Even now, there’s a tiny piece of his mind that is still incredulous that she is pregnant - that the two of them are having a baby.  In just four short months, there will be a tiny human that is part Amy, part Jake and wholly them, and he’s never ever been more excited for the future.  

He can still recall the moment it had all changed for the better - when Amy had turned to him with the brightest smile he had ever seen, and nodded her head.  He’d sat beside her on the floor of their bathroom for longer than he’d realised, staring at the plastic stick with it’s stamped lettering and two thin red lines that told him that Amy was pregnant.  His eyes had kept darting from left to right, his brain frantically trying to reassure himself that he was, in fact, reading it all correctly.  That the love of his life was carrying his child, and the world as he knew it was never going to be the same again.  It just … hadn’t made any sense, how easily it had all changed.  Every part of his life involved filling out some sort of paperwork or prior approval or whatever - it was a reality that he merely tolerated, but Amy adored.  But, in the blink of an eye (and a round of admittedly great sex), Jake Peralta was going to be a father.    

Deciding to start trying had been one of the most uncomplicated decisions of his life, and one that he hasn’t reconsidered for a second (it had surprised him at first, how easily it came to him - but that’s the thing about finally being in a secure relationship.  Even the things that terrified him the most, suddenly didn’t seem so bad when he knew Amy would be by his side).  But it had stunned him, how in just one moment, seeing the word pregnant on a little piece of plastic had made him fall in love with something (or someone, really) that he hadn’t even met.  

He had known, in approximately 0.0003 seconds after seeing their daughter for the very first time on the ultrasound screen, that he wouldn’t ever do anything that could hurt her.  That he will fight for her safety and security, with every fibre of his being, until the very last day of his life.  This tiny little shadow on the screen, with it’s echoing heartbeat and what thankfully looked to be Amy’s nose, was now the single-most greatest thing that Jake had ever done: and nothing was ever going to change that.  These past few months have made Jake understand his father even less, and appreciate Amy all the more, if for nothing else than the fact that she’d given Jake a second chance to show just how capable - and deserving - of love he can be.  

Hearing a soft grunt to his left, Jake turns his head in time to see Amy wriggling through the window frame, the swell of her belly turning what used to be an easy move into something that requires a little more finesse.  There’s a soft metallic thud that reverberates towards the empty streets below as both of her slipper covered feet hit the gridded surface, and she grins in triumph before making her way over to Jake.  

“Starting to get over this whole ‘needing to pee every half hour’ thing that I’ve got going on.”

Grinning, Jake leans against the balustrade of their makeshift balcony, ignoring the gentle dig of the metal against his skin.  “I mean, you know my feelings about water, hun.”

Raising an eyebrow, Amy shakes her head in response.  “Hate to tell you this, but all I’ve been drinking today is orange soda - and we both know that’s your genes at play here, Peralta.”  Amy winks at Jake’s responsive wince, cupping his chin in her hand as she pulls him closer for a quick kiss.  “It’s a good thing that I love you, huh?”

“Oh, it’s a very good thing, Ames.”  The best thing ever, actually, that she loves him.  She tells him a lot - even more so since falling pregnant, a side effect that has been hated by absolutely no-one - and every time feels better than the last.  

A car passes them below, the loud music pumping from the speakers and filtering it’s way up to the two of them, and Amy looks down at her sweats, turning to give Jake an apprehensive look.  “What a wild New Year’s Eve we’ve ended up having.  Maybe we should have gone to Terry’s party after all?  I mean, it is the last child free one we’re going to have for a long time.”

Slinging an arm around Amy’s shoulders, Jake pulls her closer to him, smiling as her hand wraps around his waist in a move that is absolutely second nature.  “No way, Ames.  I’ve got my two best girls here with me, and in five minutes I’m going to have the greatest seats in New York as that building over there lets off fireworks from their roof.  Terry’s party can suck it.”  

Right now, a bunch of fugitives could climb out from the sewer clutching diamonds from the biggest jeweller in town, and he wouldn’t move.  Bruce Willis himself could knock on the door, and Jake would tell him that he needed to come back tomorrow (please, please, please - come back tomorrow).  

This was his home - he’d built a world between these four walls, with the love of his life - the only one to run a hand over his scars, both physical and mental, and still call him beautiful.  His partner, in every way imaginable, and easily the greatest person he’s ever known.  And just when he didn’t think she could be any more magic, she’d begun carrying their child, and now he is absolutely certain that Amy is completely made of stardust.  

Even when her hormones are out of control, and she’s yelling at him for not mixing enough pickles into her ice cream.

There was nowhere he’d rather be, and nobody he’d rather be with.  Literally everything he needed, for the rest of his life, was right here in his arms.  

(Okay yes, technically he would eventually need orange soda and gummy worms and maybe some water if Amy insisted.  But there was a healthy stock of all that in their kitchen, and by ‘right here’ he obviously means their apartment.)

Amy hums - this sweet little hmmming sound that Jake knows to mean contentment ever since he heard it on their first night together, a sound that he’s heard a million times since then and just never, ever fails to transcend him - and she leans a little more of her body weight against him, blinking slowly as fatigue begins to set in.  There were countless books and testimonials that told them to get as much sleep as they could, because once the baby came sleep would become a long-lost memory, and Jake could tell that Amy was secretly dying to curl up into bed.  Baby-growing, it would seem, was a highly exhaustive task - and in all honesty the idea of curling up underneath the blanket with her for the rest of the evening sounded kind of amazing.   

Jake’s just about to suggest a retreat to their bedroom when he hears the first whoosh of a firework streaking through the sky, the subsequent explosion of light piercing his eyes as tiny blue stars litter their previously dark canvas.  Either the revellers had decided to celebrate early, or his watch was slow (entirely possible, he’d bought it for three whole dollars at their local bodega) - whatever the reason, Jake cannot help the smile that stretches across his face as more colours begin to light the sky.  

Now completely awake, Amy moves closer still to Jake, standing in front of him and gripping his forearms in her hands when they wrap around her clavicle.  From behind Jake can hear her tiny gasps as each bang and pop takes place, and after a minute he cries out in surprise, moving quickly to place his hands on either side of Amy’s pregnant belly in a protective stance.

Shifting her head to the side, Amy looks at Jake in confusion, pointing downwards.  “What’s with the sudden coverage, babe?”

Eyes wide and earnest, Jake nods in the direction of his hands, explaining - “I’ve got to protect the baby’s ears, Ames!  These fireworks are loud - and what if she’s asleep right now?  She’s part Peralta, and you and I both know Peraltas are NOT a fan of being woken up.”

Amy laughs, her nose crinkling up in that completely adorable way that Jake absolutely loves, shaking her head as her fingers link with his on either side of her bump.  “Our baby is totally fine in there, Jake.  But I love you so much for thinking of her right now.”  There’s a slight shift underneath Jake’s hands, and he can’t be sure if it’s a kick of just a general nudge from their daughter, but either way he takes it as a sign that their little one agrees with Amy’s statement.  Nodding; he smiles at Amy, suddenly feeling a little foolish - but perhaps, he’s just foolishly in love.  Above them, the fireworks continue to explode, only now they don’t seem so loud.

Moving one hand away from his, Amy cups the back of Jake’s neck, gently pulling him downwards for a soft kiss.  “Only five months in, and you’re already the greatest dad ever,” she whispers against his lips, pressing against them with her own once more.  He’s blushing by the time she pulls away, he can feel it in the sudden tingle of his cheeks, but all he can think about is the title greatest dad ever, and how much he can’t wait until those very words are emblazoned on a mug or some other kind of gift their child decides to buy him.  He wants it on hats, and shirts, on socks and a keyring and everywhere in between - because when it came to Jake and fatherhood, there was not a chance in hell that history was going to end up repeating.        

“Hey,” came Amy’s soft voice, pulling Jake out of his thoughts as her fingers return to the back of his neck and toy with the curls that live along the bottom of his hairline.  Briefly, he remembers that he meant to get his hair cut two weeks ago.  “You okay, babe?”

Taking a deep breath, Jake smiles and nods, waiting until Amy has turned to face him completely before tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.  “Happy New Year, Ames.  I know I’ve said this before, but this year is going to be totally amazing.”

Amy nods back, giggling as Jake swoops in for a kiss.  “I’m going to remember this moment when we’re elbow deep in dirty diapers and our eyelids are being held up by toothpicks.”

Joining in on Amy’s laughter, Jake shrugs his shoulders in defeat.  “This is probably going to sound insane, and I’m definitely going to deny I ever said this when we’re in that situation; but even that sounds a little bit awesome, because it’ll mean that she’s here and we can hold her and talk to her and just love her for reals.”

“Totally insane, and I completely agree.”

It’s less than an hour later that both Jake and Amy are tucked into bed, the sound of Amy’s gentle snores lulling Jake to sleep as 2020 begins to stretch her limbs.  Their apartment is quiet, but filled to the brim with love - right down to the printed sonogram, sharing the space of a heart-shaped magnet with a photo of a young couple falling for each other - and there is a small room adjacent to the kitchen that is almost ready for it’s tiny occupant to arrive.  

As his eyelids grow heavy, Jake thinks back to all the years he and Amy had spent together, and how many times they’ve had to push back against all the things that have tried to keep them apart.  He knows now that it was worth it - all of it was worth it - because truly, the best was yet to come.  

[patkinmon]

Playing Hide and Seek

Playing Hide and Seek was a bad idea.

It had started of innocent enough. Eddie had asked Buck if he had time to visit Christopher on his next day off, since he had been asking about Buck again and again. Of course there was no way that he could deny his favorite kid anything. Spending some more time with Eddie was also a plus, since the lawsuit had made things very awkward between them. Buck was happy that Eddie had forgiven him, but he was sure that the lingering tension in the air had to be, because his best friend still held a small grudge.  

After he arrived at the Diaz household, Christopher decided (after a long hug and mumbled ‚I miss you’s) that they should play Hide and Seek, which brought on the current situation.

Buck can proudly say that he was a master in playing, which is why he won their first round and only lost to Christopher in the second one. Their third round was in full swing now and Chris was the one who played Seeker this time.

Since Buck didn’t want to make it too easy for the boy (but not to tough either), he decided to hide in a broom closet.  

„Please stop moving so much, man. Christopher will find us in no time, if you keep rearranging yourself.“ Eddie whispered for the second time now. He really wasn’t sure how they got into their position. All he remembered was hearing Christopher count to ten and Eddie’s frantic face for a good hiding spot. What else should he have done than drag his friend right into the closet with him?

He couldn’t know that the closet would be smaller than a bathroom stall, which is why Eddie was now pressed completely to his front with no space between their bodies.

„Sorry. It isn’t my fault that your broom closet is too tiny for two grown man.“ He heard and felt Eddie surpressing a giggle. „Not sure they were built with that in mind.“

They could hear footsteps coming closer from the outside and on instinct Eddie pressed himself closer to Buck. After a few moments they heard the steps slowly fading. „Well I think we dodged the bullet.“, Eddie mumbled as he slowly exhaled. He would have done the same thing, but if he pressed even a little bit more into Eddie than he would get a little problem. He could feel his cheeks flushing as he thought about pulling his best friend closer, so he could feel him even more. Now where was the hole to hide in? Oh right, there was no hole just a small closet they were stuck in for the unforseeable future.

Buck even prefered losing the game, to facing Eddie and the questions which would surely come. He had admitted his feelings for his best friend to himself a long time ago, but telling said friend was out of the question. Buck knew that Eddie was straight, so his chances to have his feelings returned were zero and he had made peace with that.

As long as Chris and Eddie want me around that’s enough.

„So how long are we going to be stuck in here?“ He wasn’t sure, why he asked. He should hope that Chris found them soon, so he would get out of this position, but he couldn’t. Not when it felt like heaven to have Eddie this close.

Stop thinking stupid things Buckley! You will make him uncomfortable.

He could feel Eddie’s head turning to him and for a short moment the whole world stopped. Buck could feel Eddies breath on his face and he was sure that his friend could feel his too. If he moved his head a little, he could…

„My son is a smart kid, it won’t take to long.“ He felt the words whispered close to his lips and for a moment it felt like he wasn’t the only one, who wanted to move his head. He could feel Eddie's forehead on his and their noses brushing, before the door sprung open to reveal a laughing Christopher.

„Found you both!“

Buck was sure, he would never get tired of hearing Christopher laugh. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, so he just had to scoop the little boy into his arms. „That you did, Champ. Looks like you win another round. Your Dad and I are no match for you.“ As he turned to look at Eddie he caught the others soft gaze on them. Not for the first time Buck wondered if anyone else could make Eddie look like that.  

„I guess I lost, which means I will be cooking you dinner. Any special requests?“ Eddie looked at them expectantly.  

„I want Tacos.“ – „Than we make Tacos.“  

He dropped Christopher back on the floor so he could make his way into the kitchen. „I hope you’re fine with that too?“ Eddie had taken a few steps closer to him to nudge his hand. Tacos and his two favorite boys? That wasn't even a question for Buck.

„I love Tacos and I would never go against the champions orders.“ The smile that Eddie was giving him, was combined with the same soft gaze he had given him just minutes before. It made Buck wonder how he hadn't seen the signs before today or if he chose to ignore them.

Maybe there was a chance for them.

„We will talk later, okay?“ Eddie asked tentively, like he was scared of ruining things between them. As if that was even a possibility. He tentively reached out to interlock their hands as answer and was rewarded with a soft squeeze back. Together they made their way into the kitchen.

It turned out that playing Hide and Seek wasn’t such a bad idea afterall.

tag list: @cherishingstydia, @felicitous-one, @diazbuckleysworld, @lilywoood

Authors note: There you have my closet fic! I hope it turned out okay. I’ll be posting it on Ao3 later too, and might add the like here.

[the-angriestpineapple]

brewed & beards - ch 6

Kirishima tries to help Uraraka train when she asks, and he gets over his jealousy enough to actually become her friend.

Chapter Six - Genuine Kindness

One of Kiri’s favorite classes this semester is his nutrition class. He hadn’t been wrong when he told Uraraka the other night at pizza that nutrition was really important to him, and learning the science behind what made good food choices was fascinating. He even really liked his teacher, Professor Taishiro. The man seemed to always be eating something in class, jovially telling his students on the first day that as long as they cleaned up after themselves, he didn’t mind if they did the same.

Professor Taishiro was talking about macros and how they transfer into energy, and Kiri was totally listening, absolutely. He was only vaguely thinking about his resolution that he is unable to hate Uraraka. His mind wasn’t swarming with the petty part of him that still wants to hate her, but at the same time Bakugou has been nothing but rude to him and honestly he even seems pretty indifferent to his own girlfriend, would he really want that kind of partner even if he IS jaw-droppingly beautiful? It’s a stupid thought either way. Uraraka is a small, soft girl and I’m a big, muscular boy –

“Kirishima?”

Kiri starts and stares into the concerned face of his professor. A quick glance around the room tells him that he’s been sitting here mumbling to himself for long enough for class to have ended. Kiri swipes a hand down his face, wincing apologetically at the teacher. He’d woken up late today, very unlike himself, and barely had time to throw clothes on and make it to class on time. His red spikes take three minutes to set, not even counting the time it took him to sculpt them, so his hair was uncharacteristically limp around his shoulders.

Taishiro frowned at the boy. “Have you been feeling well, Kirishima? I’ve noticed that you were very distracted today. We do have a school nurse on campus if something is the matter.” Kiri’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head a littler harder than necessary.

“Ah, no, I apologize Professor. I’ve been distracted with some, uh, relationship troubles.”

Taishiro’s frowned deepened and he perched on the desk directly to Kiri’s left. “Relationship troubles. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, you’re an adult now. But I would like for you to keep in mind that you are here at school to learn, and to build a foundation for a career. A very promising career, if my impression of you is correct.” He smiles kindly, and Kiri feels ashamed at how much he’s been letting this situation get to him. He makes a mental note to apologize to his other professors and to Mirio as well.

“I am so deeply sorry, Professor Taishiro.” Kiri immediately stands and deeply bows. “I promise to focus on school work from now on. You’re right, I shouldn’t be letting other people affect my future like this.”

His teacher chuckles and gently pushes him to stand upright. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Kirishima, I just want to make sure you know what is important. Now head on out, and have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kiri gathered up his books and gives another short, quick bow before heading off to an anatomy class. He really needed to get himself together.

---

He spends his lunch that day in the dorm room, eating some leftover rice with canned tuna. It’s a simple meal but a very comforting one for him, and he doesn’t mind the quietness of being in the dorm without Hanta and Denki. He loves them dearly, he truly does, but sometimes a guy just needs some peace and quiet.

He blinks as his phone goes off and he looks over to it. A text from an unknown number? He balances his bowl and chopsticks in one hand as he reaches to his phone to swipe the message open.

???: Hey Kirishima! It’s Uraraka, I meant to get your number when we were all out the other night but I forgot. Mina gave it to me, I hope you don’t mind! ;^^

Kiri didn’t mind in the least, really, he was totally okay with his friends being able to reach him if they needed to. And he considered Uraraka his friend now. He quickly typed back that it was absolutely fine with a smiley face.

Uraraka: Great! So I wanted to ask if you have time to help spot me at the gym tonight – Bakugou’s working and I’d really like to get some training in. If you aren’t busy?

Kiri smiled softly. He really had to admire her drive, it was inspiring. He said that he’d be at work tonight so he’d be able to help her train, no problem. She sent back a bunch of hearts and fist emojis, and it actually made Kirishima laugh. He was actually headed there once he finished lunch, so he let her know that and quickly shoveled the rest of his rice and tuna into his mouth. He brought the bowl to the bathroom to rinse it quickly – he didn’t want the room smelling like tuna – and then packed up his gym stuff to head out. A text from Uraraka said that she also had no classes this afternoon so she could meet him there.

The gym Kirishima worked at was only a few blocks over from campus. He actually had to pass the coffee shop to get there, and he couldn’t help peering in as he quickly walked by. He didn’t see Bakugou but he did see Mina and Jirou laughing about something behind the counter. He smiled. It always made his heart warm to see his friends happy.

He arrived at the gym and waved to the employee behind the counter (it wasn’t Ojiro today) and headed to the locker rooms. He dropped his stuff in an open locker and changed from his walking shoes to his gym sneakers, already wearing what he planned to work out in. He paused in front of the mirror as he headed out and looked at himself. He wore a tight fitted tank, loose gym shorts, and his hair was done up in his trademark spiked style. He grinned at himself, his mouth full of teeth that he’d always felt were slightly sharper than normal, and flexed. He was strong and he looked good, any bro would be lucky to have him! He gave his reflection a confident nod and strolled out into the main area of the gym.

“Oh, Kirishima! Hi!” He looked over to the weight area where Uraraka was already, waving a hand frantically and beaming. He returned her grin and jogged the rest of the way to her.

“You ready to get pumped, Uraraka?” He struck a pose, his fists clenched.

“Yeah!” She punched the air, reminding him a little of Mina. She giggled. “I brought along the plan that the trainer here gave me – that Bakugou wrote all over and changed – but I wanted to see what you think too.” He accepted the paper from her and skimmed it, eyes glancing over angry red scratch-outs accompanied by blurbs that said things like ‘waste of time, do this instead’ and other completely different instructions on there. Kiri winced.

“Well, it’s not that Bakugou’s suggestions are bad…” Uraraka’s face fell a little. “The just seem to be geared toward someone who is built more like him. Or me. Not so much like you. Actually, what the trainer suggested you start with is more on point for what you could be doing. How much can you bench press?”

Uraraka’s frown turned into a proud smile. “Fifty pounds so far! I want to be able to bench, like a hundred by the end of the school year.” She punched into the air again and Kiri grinned.

“Hell yeah, we can totally aim for that! Here’s what I think you should do. Lemme get some paper and a pen.” He went to the desk to grab them, and then he and Uraraka crowded around the sheets. He carefully re-wrote what the personal trainer initially put down for the most part, altering it slightly to include the lightest of Bakugou’s suggestions and a few suggestions of his own. No reason to completely piss the blonde off when he sees his girlfriend’s altered training plan. “Do you have a nutrition plan too? I know you said that you don’t really cook.”

Uraraka shook her head. “Um, not really. I basically either eat whatever is in the cafeteria or whatever Bakugou makes. He makes really good meals though, and rarely ever eats anything unhealthy.” Kirishima nodded, ignoring his heart flipping over Bakugou being health conscious. What a stupid thing to be attracted to.

“Well I imagine whatever Bakugou makes you is probably fine. As for the cafeteria…” He started writing down food pairings, Uraraka focused completely on what he was saying, and his professor’s words from this morning rang in his head about how he could have a very successful career of this. When he handed her the completed paper, she folded it gently like it was precious and tucked it into her bag. It gave Kiri a sharp spike of pride. “Alright! Let’s see how you handle that fifty pounds on the bench and see if we can up it a little today.”

“Sure thing! Let’s go!” Uraraka jumped excitedly and hopped over to a weight lifting bench, immediately going to start putting weights on the bar. Kiri couldn’t help but feel like he was definitely in the right career.

That feeling floated him through the rest of Uraraka’s training (they got her up to 55 pounds) and home to the dorm. He walked in to Mina regailing Denki and Hanta about how Bakugou had almost blown up their chemistry lab that day. It makes him laugh, and the sadness is less than he expected. He knows that he is strong enough for this to pass.

[mochi-rose]

|| War of Hearts || Two.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Jimin Description: Sleeping peacefully, you don’t even think about if Jimin has a roommate or not. When you realise it’s the last person you want to see, things get heated and you say things that you don’t exactly think through. Later on, your friend comes over for movie night, and all the feelings you were trying hard to keep back begin to overflow. Jimin texts you and, although he’s successfully cheered you up, you’re left feeling more confused about your feelings than before. Genre: Angst. Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: Mentions of self-blame, emotional struggling, angst, a tiny bit of dirty talk Tags: @koizorahana, @legendaryangelmoneylawyer, @mrs-jeonjk (you guys were on my list to be tagged, if at any point in time you’d like to stop being tagged, just notify me!) Also, let me know if any of you would also like to be tagged! A/N: I severely apologise for not updating in so long. I have a really hard time believing in myself and that my writing is actually good enough to post.  | Playlist | Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 |

You think you hear the distant sound of a door opening and closing, but you can't seem to care enough to try and open your eyes. The bed appears much comfier and warmer than usual, and you usually don't sleep this well, so you decide to make the most of it and snuggle into whatever is keeping you so warm.

Suddenly, the sound of someone frantically crashing open a door echoes throughout the room, and you have just enough time to get your thoughts together and shove yourself under the blankets. "Jimin!! Where were you last night?! I was trying to get aho--" A very familiar voice yells out as you hear him walk further into the room.

There is absolutely no way in hell he is actually here right now. How did he get in? Does he live here? Wait, are Jimin and him roommates? This is not happening, this is not happening...

"Ohh...I see. This is why you weren't returning my calls. Well, you should've just told me! I would've been down for a threesome, ya know?" He actually disgusts me. "I'm glad you got some though, it's been a few weeks for you. I was worried--"

"Can you shut the hell up? You're probably waking her." You hear Jimin call out as he wraps a hand around you to pull you closer to him, almost in a protective way if you're not mistaken.

"Dude, she's already awake, I saw her throw the covers over herself at the last minute. You can come out, yeah? I'm up for giving you some fun if you're into that. What's your name, babydoll?" Does he ever shut up? You hear the person come closer and suddenly, their hands are grasping the blankets at your side as if to tickle you while trying to rip the sheets off.

Jimin starts to protest, but you beat him to it. "Fuck off!!" You snarl, making sure a growl rips throughout your throat just to get your point across that you are pissed and do not want any of his 'fun'. The jackass just laughs as if that was the reaction he was looking for this whole time as he surrenders with a small "fine, fine".

You hear footsteps start to fade before the sound of a door closes. "He left," Jimin calls out, pulling back the covers from over your head. Light floods your eyesight, and you blink a couple of times to get used to it before you give Jimin a blank stare. There's a moment of stillness as he just gives one back. You try hard to match his, but when you see the corner of his lips lift slightly, you let out a giggle before you can stop yourself.

He starts to laugh as well, and a blush sneaks onto your cheeks, so you try and hide it by looking down. When you feel as if you've gotten yourself back in control, you glance back up at him, but your breath is quickly knocked right out of you. He's absolutely beautiful, you think as you just stare at his face. Something tugs at your heart though, and your own smile swiftly falls from your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks, noticing the little change in your mood. What the hell have I done? You can hear the small panic in his tone as if he's scared he did you wrong, and it makes you sick because you know this is all your fault. "Nothing, my head just hurts." You lie, scooting away before turning your back to him. You stare out the window and hope he doesn't question any further.

"Well, you did say last night was your first time to drink in a while," Jimin comments and you're thankful he doesn't overthink it. "Just take it easy, I'm about to hop in the shower."

You nod, still facing the window as you feel his warmth leave the bed to head towards the shower. Do not miss his warmth, _____. You're not allowed to miss it.

Once you hear the door shut, you spring out of bed to find your clothes that are spread out along the floor. I can't stay here any longer. The longer I wait, the harder it is to believe that this is wrong, you think as you fumble to slide your thong on.

Just as you start to clip your bra together from the front, you hear the door behind you swing open,  making you freeze everything. You're well aware that the door to your left is to the bathroom and the door to your rear is to the hallway, so the person standing behind you is not Jimin. Shit.

"Hey, did you hear that _____ and-- Oh... Damn, Jimin sure knows how to pick 'em." You pick up on what he mumbles, and you have to ignore the urge to smack him. "Hey, do you need help with that?"

Not acknowledging his 'act of kindness', you finish clipping your bra together before sliding it back around angrily. "You know, most men would be deterred by your cold treatment and harsh words, but not I, darling. You see, I like my women plucky, and you're feisty as fuck. I love it." He drawls as he comes nearer and you can feel yourself begin to clench and unclench your fists.

Cool it, _____. It's not as if your ass is bare in front of him and he's talking to you like you're some kind of prey for him to take. He's Jimin's friend... but God, I want to punch the ever-living shit outta him! No, no, take it easy. Now is not the time. Even though this is the last person you need to see right now, and not to mention, he ruined everything. No, relax. Think about this rationally. You're in lingerie, and if you face him now, he'll view even more because your lacy bra is see-through. Calm down, you argue with yourself inside your head as he gets closer. Just as he's close enough to lay a hand on your shoulder, your 'feistier' side gets the better of you, and you whip around to face him head-on.

Surprised, he stumbles back a little before you watch his eyes go wide with shock. "_____??" You notice the utter confusion that resides in his voice, but you also catch the hint of panic and fear.

"Taehyung." Your voice cuts through the air, and you give him a minute to see if he'll speak up. As you look him up and down, you can't help but note that he's also incredibly handsome. Too bad his personality ruins it.

When you realise he's still too flabberghasted to converse, you continue talking. "About what you were going to tell Jimin earlier before you got 'sidetracked', he already knows we broke up."

While Taehyung's mouth still hangs open, you pass him to collect and put on the rest of your clothes from yesterday. As you finish zipping up the back of your skintight, pencil skirt and doing a once-over in the mirror, he finally turns to look at you. You make eye contact through the mirror and see an accusatory look begin to form in his eyes quickly. "How could you do thi--" He starts to talk with a judgemental tone, but you immediately interrupt him as you turn back around to give him a severe look.

"Shut up," You snap, watching his eyes widen yet again at the surprises you keep dealing him. Your facial expression changes in an instant as you feign ignorance. "Oh, were you not about to act as if I was in the wrong for venturing out, no?"

Taehyung doesn't respond and, instead, merely just swallows hard as you start to walk closer toward him slowly. You drop the innocent act as you give him a hard look again and cross your arms. "I see, so you were telling my boyfriend that it was alright if he ventured out and had a full-course meal, but not me because I was supposed to wait patiently at home until he comes back. Mm... figures."

He still stays silent, but you notice his eyebrows scrunch together as you stop right in front of him, his minty breath hitting your face. You should be intimidated because you're way shorter, but you're so mad that not even the tallest man in the world could stop you now. "What? Oh! Sorry, ex-boyfriend. Wonder who's to blame there..." You trail off, giving him a sharp glare.

This time he meets your glare with his own. "Why are you acting like this?"

"What, you've never had a girl express anything other than adoration for you? I thought you liked your girls plucky."

"You're being a bitch." He comments, still glaring down at you; however, you don't lose the fire, and if anything, it just fuels it even more.

"Yeah, that kind of happens when a girl realises the man, who's responsible for her two-year relationship crumbling into shambles, is standing right in front of her. It's your fault, you're responsible, and you don't even give a shit that you ruined somebody's happiness." You yell as you poke him in the chest each time. You know this is wrong, that what you're saying is wrong, but you can't seem to hold back all of the anger you've built up over the last eighteen hours. You both go quiet for a minute as a tense silence settles between you, but just as quick as it's there, it's gone as you speak once more and this time softer. "How's that for feisty?"

He doesn't make a move to speak or do anything, so you quickly turn to leave since you can feel the tears begin to form. Just as you swing open the door to walk out of Jimin's room, you hear him speak up one last time, in a calm, but informative manner. "I know you're mad and upset right now, but you can't blame me for everything. I gave him the idea, but he's the one that went through with it; he wanted this."

You halt, and a bitter chill runs up and down your skin because you know deep down that's what your heart is crying too. A cold tear escapes from your eye and slowly glides down your cheek as you face the hallway, not daring to look back at him. "I know," you painfully choke before whirling the door closed behind you, but I'm not ready to admit it.

It's not like this was your first time doing it, but not having done it in more than two years, you're feeling embarrassed as you do the infamous Walk of Shame to your house. You realise you could take the subway; however, it would just about be the same amount of hassle if you did. Also, you needn't worry about potential groping as well this way.

Trying to use the time well, you attempt to get your thoughts unbundled; although, the harder you try, the worse it gets. You really do feel like you're dead inside. It's like you're numb and if you're honest, you don't know if you want to face everything.

"You look like you've been fucked up in more ways than one." You hear a familiar friendly voice call out. You turn your head to realise it's Somin standing at your front door with a few bags in her hands. You feel confused before a quick thought reminds you that tonight was supposed to be the make-up movie night. "I was wondering where you've been. I've been waiting out here for ten minutes, and you weren't responding to my texts."

You walk up to her as you glance down at your phone. "Oh, sorry. Didn't notice," you mumble, trying to get your mind to focus on what needs to be done.

"What happened?"

"Long story." As you unlock the front door, you try to come up with an answer hinting you don't want to explain anything. Unfortunately, your friend knows you all too well. "It's a good thing we have all of tonight for you to tell this long story. You can start while we cook dinner."

You walk in and throw down your purse and shoes somewhere random before trudging into the kitchen and starting the stove. You can feel the heavy feeling of despair forming in your stomach again, and even as you try your hardest to ignore it, it just gets heavier.

"So? What's wrong?" Somin questions while getting out the ingredients from her bag. You look and see she's gotten your favourite meal as if she knew you would be upset today.

"Why'd you get this?" You ask her, referring to your favourite dinner.

She hands you all the ingredients that you needed to cook on the stove before turning her back to you as she starts chopping up the vegetables on the island. "Like I told you yesterday, I figured Jungkook had an ulterior motive behind his fancy dinner and that it wasn't just your second anniversary. So I thought you could use some good comfort food."

"Mm. Well, you were right," You murmur softly; however, Somin still catches on. As much as it touches you to see how great of a friend you have, her words only make your heart wrench more, and you can feel your iron grip on trying to stay detached is unravelling fast.

"So what did he say this time? He's going away for another two months? Maybe study abroad for more than that? Oh! Or maybe he's quitting his job and has to move far away." She guesses, joking lightly on the matter.

You don't blame her for laughing about it because you know she's partially trying to cheer you up, but also she doesn't know it's that serious. The fact that she can't even guess what happened means that she must have not seen it coming either. you think bitterly.

Zoning back in, you realise your hand is white from squeezing the pot's handle so hard, and your cheeks are wet from tears escaping. You don't know when your dam cracked, but suddenly the walls are starting to crumble as your emotions begin to overflow. "Hm? _____?" Somin asks, noticing how quiet you've become.

Tears flood your eyes, and suddenly you can't see anything clearly as your throat closes up until it physically hurts. "He ended it," you choke before a loud sizzle pops from the pan, and it takes you a moment to realise it was your own tear falling from your eye.

In a flash, you hear Somin dropping everything before rushing to your side. She swiftly turns off the stove right as your knees begin to collapse and she catches you before sliding down to the floor with you in her arms. You hear sounds of loud, broken cries before you realise it's coming from you, but you can't seem to stop yourself from bawling into her shoulder.

"Shh, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm right here." She lulls with a tight embrace as she rocks you back in forth, caressing your hair.

"We-we were talking about when we would get married! I mean-" You realise how that sounds since you're rambling, so you take a minute to swallow the soreness from your throat to try and explain why you're so upset. "I know we weren't seriously talking about it like in the next year or so, but it came up more than a few times. We used to discuss what we'd like our future to hold-- which included us together, married, and eventually kids."

You noted how Somin didn't say anything. "I know. I'm pathetic, right? We're both so young, we shouldn't have been talking like that. I should've known better than to believe in 'what-if' dreams anyway. God, I'm so fucking stu--" Somin cut you off quickly before you could get any more upset.

"_____. You listen to me. You were not, and are not, stupid. If you both talked multiple times about that, then that means both of you were seriously thinking about it. If you were dating someone and they mentioned marriage when you weren't ready or thinking about it, you would shoot that idea down, right?" You nodded. "Right. So it clearly wasn't one-sided."

You swallow and focus on getting your breathing back under control. Once you seem calm again, you wipe away your tears and note how you're cradled in Somin's arms down on the kitchen floor. "I'm sorry I acted like this" you mumble, feeling embarrassed but also forever grateful for having Somin as a best friend.

"Don't you apologise for shit, babe. I know how serious you were with him, _____. It's only natural." Somin comforts, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

"I know, it's just... I was so strong in front of Taehyung this morning. I was so mean, it was like I didn't even care that I was a bitch, but now--" Remembering how bad you acted in front of Taehyung, you start to talk about how ironic it is that you're breaking down now; however, Somin interrupts you.

"Wait, what? Taehyung? When did you see Taehyung?" Somin asks.

You realise you never told her the full story of what happened after the break-up with Jungkook, and as memories of what you did with Jimin flash in your mind, your face reddens from embarrassment.

"Oh... Uhm, well--"

"I thought he was roommates with Jimin?" Somin questions further.

"He is...," you breathe, trying to figure the best way to explain this. "I walked out of the restaurant when I found out the reasoning behind it. It wasn't a pretty break-up, so I decided to walk to the subway; however, I ran into Jimin on the way there. He asked me why I was crying, and because I walked in the pouring rain, he decided to bring me to his house. I wasn't going to stay long, but we started drinking, and he was cheering me up and..."

"And?" Somin raises an eyebrow, and as her eyes meet your bashful ones, she puts the puzzle pieces together. "I KNEW you looked fucked up in more ways than one!!"

"Somin!!" you yell in embarrassment before getting up off the floor. Your stomach rumbles as a reminder that you haven't eaten today and need to feed it, so you begin cooking again. Once Somin realises you'd like to resume cooking, she starts back as well. "What? I call it like I see it... Anyway! I've been waiting for something to happen between the two of you!"

You halt your movements for a second, surprised at what she said. "What? Really?"

"Yeah! Everyone could tell the tension was there! Why do you think Jungkook was so protective over you?" You thought about it, but if she was waiting for an answer, you couldn't give her one. "You and Jimin always had sparks... So, how was he in bed? I'd think he'd be pretty good." Somin giggles, trying to lighten the mood by focusing on the positives more than the negatives.

Pretty good? That doesn't seem to cover it, more like an animal..., you think, but you would never say that aloud. You feel your face begin to heat up again just thinking about it, and suddenly you realise you're still wearing your clothes from the previous night.

"Hey, the water's boiling, you think you can take it from here? I really need to go take a shower and clean up." Somin nods before shooing you off, and you thank her as you walk to the bathroom and start the shower.

You get into the shower and let the warm water envelop your sore body, wrapping around you like a warm and inviting hug that you so dearly crave. You sigh in content, finally having a moment to just rest and think.

You're surprised at how quick you were to break down in front of Somin. You knew your heart was crying, it was severely sobbing, but you thought you fooled yourself into thinking you were stronger with how you dealt with Taehyung. Now you're tired, sore, and wondering where to go from here. You thought you were happy being alone to contemplate, but suddenly your brain is a broken record, playing terrible, self-hating thoughts of music. Why, why wasn't I enough for him? Did I not make him happy? Was this really about venturing out or...was it m--

Just as your thoughts were spiralling too far into the deep end, you're jolted back into reality with the sound of your phone buzzing, signalling someone texted you. You don't even remember when you sunk down to the floor, but you pull yourself back up and reach for your phone on the counter. Retreating back to the warmth, you make sure to put your back to the water so your phone doesn't get wet.

Jimin: Pretty upset you didn't leave your panties here. I know it must've been uncomfortable walking home, they were soaking wet last night.

Your face immediately flares red but, was it in embarrassment or arousal? You didn't know which. You did notice how fast your fingers were flying to reply to him though. The back of your mind throws the question of why you're so hungry to respond to him so quickly, but you pay it no attention as you promptly finish and send the text, eager for the next response.

You: Well, your lovely roommate (which btw, thanks for the heads up???) decided to storm in again when I was only in my bra and thong so, as uncomfortable as it was, I'm glad I was covered at least a bit.

There's no immediate reply, so you decide to go ahead and wash your hair. As you get done and move on to the next, you realise you've already rinsed the conditioner from your hair and have just finished washing your body when you still haven't received a text yet.

You bite your lip out of nervousness and recheck your phone. It's been fifteen minutes and still no reply. Is he busy? Or is he mad? Did I do something wrong? You start to question if you've screwed things up, but then the deafening mystery pops up of why do you even care in the first place. Why do I care so much?

You don't have time to think any more about it because your phone vibrates in your hand, silencing any more questions. A small part of your conscience notes how your phone almost falls onto the shower floor by how fast you're fiddling to open the text, but you pay no mind.

Jimin: tbh, I really don't like that he saw you naked ):

It's a small text, but it's enough to make your stomach tighten in a knot. You'd be lying if you didn't admit you've always had a thing for guys laying a claim on you in a healthy way. It made you feel wanted, and just the thought of Jimin getting bristled about another guy seeing you definitely made you feel desired. You weren't ready to admit that to anyone else, but your thoughts were safe with you.

Jimin: I'm sorry, does that sound weird? forget I said any of that... You: No, no, no! It doesn't sound weird, and anyway, I like that you care ^u^ Jimin: oh okay, good I just didn't want to say anything too odd.. anyway, I'm also worried, how did he react?

You bite your lip as your fingers pause over the screen so your brain can catch up. What do I say? I don't want to cause anything between the two, you think as you slowly put together a message.

You: Oh, don't worry about it... You: Just what any usual person might say, ig. I mean, idk. We talked. Idk if he thinks I'm a bitch or not, but whatever.

You breathe out a shaky breath to try and calm your nerves. If it were up to you, you'd never think about that awkward situation again.

Jimin: you're not a bitch! I'm sorry if he upset you in any way, just ignore him. You: Yeah, ik (: Jimin: anyway, lookie here !!

A small smile breaks out onto your face as you see he's trying to change the subject on purpose. Jimin's always been really sweet, you think before your eyebrows scrunch up in confusion at the picture he sends. There's a doctor's name, date and time in the picture but you don't really understand what he wants you to get from this.

You: Uhm, what am I looking at exactly? Jimin: you said that you wouldn't let me fuck you bareback until you saw proof that I didn't have anything. So, I scheduled an appointment! You: Already?! Jimin: I told you there was going to be a next time (;

Your face blushes yet again, and your thighs squeeze together at just the thought of when next time occurs. Something was exhilarating about not using a condom that brings two people even closer together, and you're excited that you'll get to experience this with Jimin.

"______, dinner's ready!" You hear Somin's muffled voice call out from the other side of the bathroom door. Startling you back into reality, you type out a quick text to Jimin about how you're looking forward to it when suddenly a thought hits you like a ton of bricks. Putting a damper on your temporary happiness, you swiftly delete all of the text and put away your phone.

Was this wrong, is Taehyung right? How could I do this?

[miissmr]

At First Sight

So, I was going through my laptop and found so many unfinished one-shots and ideas for rucas. I don’t know if anyone is still interested in reading GMW fanfiction, but I thought I’d finish one, and maybe finish other one-shots eventually. 

Summary: Riley believes when someone is going to be someone important in her life, she’ll feel a connection when she first sees them. So, what happens when she sees a new face that makes her feel something she has yet to feel. 

Word count: 3,042

Riley Matthews was a believer in love at first sight, or rather seeing someone and knowing that person will have an everlasting effect in her life. Either way this belief has a earned her the title of hopeless romantic, but she didn’t mind. Her very belief is what lead to two of the best people to become part of her life. It was the reason she eagerly befriended Maya all those years ago when Maya randomly entered her bedroom window or the first day of kindergarten and she saw Farkle and immediately wanted to become his friend even though everyone else ran from him. Riley knew these two people would be important people in her life.

This very belief is the reason she repeatedly turns down Charlie Gardner. It’s not that he’s a bad person because Riley knows Charlie isn’t. And he is also undeniably handsome with his intense blue eyes that would send any girl into a daze, but when Riley looks at Charlie, even into his hypnotizing eyes, she doesn’t feel a connection. She is aware sometimes a connection needs to be built, but Riley wants to feel a life changing connection with someone she’s going to be romantic with. She wouldn’t be a hopeless romantic if she didn’t.

“Aren’t you excited for tonight?” Maya searches through her closet.

“I’m not sure excited would be the word I would use. What if we get caught? Shawn would tell my dad and my dad will fake a heart attack and threaten to lock me in my room until I’m 43.”

“We won’t.” Maya continues to go through her closet. “My mom and Shawn are gone till Sunday, and we’ll have the house spotless by time they come back that they won’t even know we had a party.”

“Fine,” Riley sighed. “Can you at least tell me if Charlie is going to be here? Because I need to know whether I need to hide or not. I don’t think I have the heart to turn him down anymore.”

Maya spots shuffling through her clothes and looks at Riley. “So, don’t.”

“I can’t say yes. It wouldn’t be right to him. But just in case, I’m going to hide out in your room. So, if I go missing half way through the party, you know why.”

“And I will understand. Now, come here and please help me find something to wear. I kind of invited Josh.”

Riley jumps to her feet. “You invited my Uncle?”

Maya shivers. “Can you maybe not call him that? It makes him sound so old when he’s only a few years older than us.”

Riley shallows her laughter. “Okay, okay. You invited not my Uncle?” Maya hastily yanks something from a hanger and throws it at Riley. “This is actually cute. Wear it. The red compliments the blue in your eyes.”

Riley had just managed to escape Charlie Gardner. She has to remember to tell Darby thank you for coming to her rescue because Riley didn’t have it in her to let the poor guy down again. She made her way through the house and towards the kitchen. She watched some of her classmates stumble over their own feet while others were huddled around a table playing drinking games, and the rest dancing to the music in the backyard.

When Riley makes it to the kitchen, she sees her Uncle Josh with Maya. She thought about approaching them but the smiles they both wore told her not to. Maya’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and Josh was drowning in her deep blues. There was no way Riley was going to ruin a moment like that, and if she did, she was pretty sure she’d hear about it later from Maya.

So, Riley grabs a water and turns to walk away when she sees Charlie Gardner making a beeline to her. She frantically looks around the room looking for someone to save her or a reason to leave, and this is when she sees one of her close friends walking through the front door, and Riley takes it as her chance to dash to the front door.

“Well, hello to you too, Sugar,” Zay says as Riley throws her arms around her neck.

Zay Babineaux transferred to Abigail Adams High freshmen year, and the minute he walked into her father’s history class she knew he would make a great addition to her group of friends. She might have been a little pushy with her friendship, but she couldn’t ignore what she felt when she saw Zay. She knew he’d be an important person in her life, and now three years later, Riley will proudly say she considers Zay one of her best friends.

“You have spectacular timing.”

“Let me guess. Charlie?”

Riley groans. “You have no idea.”

“That poor boy won’t take a hint. Do you want me to set him straight?”

“No,” Riley laughs, “that’s okay.”

She makes a move to close the door, but Zay stops her. “Hold on, I have a friend coming. He just forgot his phone in the car.”

“Anyone I know?”

“I doubt it. He just moved here from Texas. His first day is on Monday, but he isn’t excited about. Which I don’t blame him. I felt the same. Just maybe don’t be pushy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me. I think I’m done for the night. I’m hi—” Riley stops midsentence. Her gaze wanders off behind Zay, and green eye captivates hers. She knows this would be an important moment in a movie. The moment where the protagonist meets the very person that would have an everlasting effect in one’s life. This is the moment Riley has been waiting for, but now that it’s here, she has no idea what to do in this situation.

“Riley? You okay?” Zay looks over his shoulder. “Oh, Luke. Riley, this is Lucas, and Lucas this is Riley.”

Riley stares at Lucas, and she wonders if he feels what she’s feeling. Her heart feels like a hummingbird is flapping around in her chest. Her stomach fills with nerves the way it always does when she’s about to reach the drop in a rollercoaster, but in the best possible way.

“Hey.”

Riley thought his voice was just as captivating as his eyes. He only spoke one word, but it was enough to interest her. She could sit and listen to him speak for hours. She wanted to speak to him for hours to get to know him.  

“Hi.”

“Uh, Riley?” Zay touches her arm. “I hate to ruin this moment your having,” he whispers, “but Charlie is on his way over.”

Riley snaps out of her daze. She doesn’t immediately look away from Lucas fearing if she did, he would disappear.

“Riley?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She shakes her head and looks at Zay. “I’m actually going to go hide for a bit.”

Riley’s eyes meet Lucas’, and she doesn’t know when’s the next time she’ll see him again. He’s going to be going to the same school, but it isn’t guaranteed she’ll see him. She feels a connection, and Riley isn’t ready to walk away just yet. But, if she doesn’t, she’ll be stuck trying to turn down Charlie.

“It was nice to meet you, Lucas.”

He smiles, and if Riley thought her heart was racing before well it feels like it’s going to explode now. “You, too, Riley. I hope I see you around.”

Riley doesn’t want to walk away, but she does, down the hall towards Maya’s room.

It’s been about an hour since Riley has locked herself in. Riley sits in the middle of Maya’s bed with a book open. She’s read maybe five pages because her mind keeps wondering of Lucas, and as much as she wants to go out to the party to find Lucas, she isn’t sure what she would do when she finds him. She’s scared she’ll make a fool of herself. She knows she can be aa bit much sometimes, and she would like Lucas to get to know her before learning about all of her quirks.

But she wants to know what his favorite color is, or what he likes to do on a rainy day or if he even likes the rain because she loves the rain. She marvels over the possibility of having things in common, but if they don’t, maybe he’ll open her eyes to new things and vice versa.

Riley tries to read a passage, the same one she’s been trying to read for the past ten minutes, but with no luck. She instantly looks up when she hears the door creak, and her breath catches in her throat.

Green eyes stare at her. “I’m sorry. I thought this was the bathroom.”

She clears her throat. “No. It’s the next door over.” Her voice sounds foreign to her. It’s rattled with nerves.

Riley waits for him to disappear behind the door, but he doesn’t. He stands where he is, and Riley feels the rollercoaster feeling in her stomach. She wants to ask him to stay. She wants to spend the rest of the night getting to know him, but Zay told her not to be pushy, so she bites her tongue patiently and anxiously waiting for what’s going to happen next under his gaping eyes.

“Is, is it okay if I hide in here with you? Party’s aren’t really my scene.”

She tries to hide her the excitement she clearly feels, but he’s smiling at her and she feels like she’s melting from the warmth his smile makes her feel.

“Of course.”

“Thank you. But I really do have to use the bathroom, so I’ll be right back.” He disappears behind the door, but she knows he’ll be back.  

As soon as the door close, Riley is on her feet and rushing to the mirror. She runs her hand through her hair to comb out any knots and cleans her eyes of any possible eye boogers. She thinks about quickly putting on a few swipes of mascara because Maya always told her it makes her eyes pop, but he’ll be back before she’ll finish. She tells herself to calm down that this is what she wanted, but she had no idea it would be happening so soon. She breaths in and breaths out.

The door creaks again. “I’m back.”

“Hi.” Riley steps towards Maya’s bed and takes a seat on the foot of the bed.

“Is it okay?” Lucas gestures to the spot next to Riley, and she nods. She thought it polite of him to ask and incredibly cute.

“So…Zay told me you’re new to the city. If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you here all the way from Texas.” Lucas shifts his place, and Riley mentally curses at herself. Zay told her not to be pushy, and the very question was pushy.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about.”

Lucas shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s just, I don’t know. I don’t particularly want to be here, but my mom got a job offer she couldn’t pass up, so here I am.”

“You don’t sound too excited about it.” She can’t stop the words from coming out. She just reacted, but when she doesn’t get a response. She drops her head and plays with the hem of her shirt, pulling at the loose tread.

Lucas sighs. “It’s hard to. Texas is where I belong. It’s my home.”

“Tell me about it.”

Once again, word vomit. Lucas looks at Riley, and from this close Riley can see the different shades of green and how it seems to have an ombre effect of dark to lighter greens the closer to the pupil. “You want to hear about Texas?”

“I do. I mean I heard Zay’s experience of Texas, but I’d love to hear yours.”

Lucas shifts his body, so he is facing Riley, and she mimics his movement.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Lucas smile reaches his eyes that they dance with happiness, and Riley has to tell her heart to be still.

Riley intently listens to Lucas talk about his life in Texas, breaking eye contact as little as possible. Lucas tells her about his family’s ranch and all the ways he helps his grandfather care for it. Like grooming the horses, especially his horse Sophie, or carrying the straw bales because there is no way his grandfather can do it.

Lucas tells Riley about the fourth of July party his family always host, and all the neighbors come over to celebrate. He tells Riley about his high school, but more specifically about his friends and the sports he played. He tells Riley about his plan to go back after high school, and she tries to ignore the small pang she felt in my chest because she knows if she left New York, more importantly, the people in New York, she would be counting the days until she was back.

Riley doesn’t say anything as he speaks. She listens attentively and admire how with each thing he talks about there is so much excitement, but it’s hard to dismiss the sadness that follows.

“I didn’t mean to go on like that.”

Riley smiles. “It’s okay. I like listening to you talk.” The words flow out before Riley could process what she was saying, and he grins.

“It’s just Texas is my home. And, Zay doesn’t seem to understand that.” Riley tries to stifle her laughter, but a small chuckle escapes. “What’s so funny?”

“Well, Zay thought the same thing. He used to say that he couldn’t see how any other place besides Texas being home, but Zay loves it here now.”

“Well, me and Zay are different people.” Lucas says defensively, and Riley squirms in my spot a little.

“I know.” Riley’s voice is small like a child who was just scolded by their parents

Lucas drops his head, and Riley watches as he rubs his hands together before taking a deep breath. His eyes lock on to Riley’s. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that. It just, I always had these plans, you know? I’d eventually take over the family ranch since I’m the oldest grandson. I’d be able to help the animals there because I’ll be a veterinarian. And when I have kids, I’ll be able to give them the experience I had growing up on a ranch. Texas is home for me.”

He finishes his thought and looks away from Riley, but she doesn’t look away from him. She studies his side profile, and she can see the creases in his forehead, maybe they’re from feeling conflicted he shared too much to a stranger. She can see the tightness in his jaw. It’s hard to miss with a sharp jawline like his. She knows she shouldn’t pry. Zay basically told her not to, but Zay should know Riley. It’s one of the few things she’s knowns for.

So, before Riley knew it, her lips were parting, and words were spewing out. “Is that why you’re scared to make the best of your time in New York because you’re scared of it maybe becoming your new home?”

Lucas chuckles, but he doesn’t look at Riley. She isn’t sure what to expect. Maybe he’ll get defensive with her, again. Or, maybe he’ll leave the room and realize Riley is too much.  

“Nevermind.” She quickly says. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You didn’t.” He still doesn’t look at her, and there’s a moment of silence. He clears his throat. “It’s just Zay said you were good at reading people, but I guess I didn’t think you’d be able to read me.”

Riley coaxes her head. She wants him to look at her. “Why?”

“I guess because I’ve always kept a guard up. I don’t let people get to close me.”

“Well, that’s a shame because from the short amount of time I’ve known you I think you’re pretty great.”

Lucas slowly looks at Riley. “Can I be honest with you?”

“I would like that.”

“I knew this wasn’t the bathroom when I walked in here. It’s just—” Lucas shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“No, what is it?” Again, there she goes not knowing when to stop. “I’m sorry. I should warn you, in case Zay hasn’t, I tend to be a bit pushy and can’t let things know. If we’re going to be friends, it’s something you should know about me.”

Lucas laughs, and Riley thinks she found one of her favorite sounds. But his laugh is short lived once his eyes find Riley’s. Silence fills the room, and Riley hopes Lucas can’t hear how fast her heart is racing.

“Do you ever just look at a person and know they’re going to be someone special in your life?” Lucas asks, and her breath hitches and she’s at lost for words. “I know. It’s stupid.”

“No!” She immediately says. “Not at all. I, I understand what you mean.”

He smiles. “It’s the reason I came in here to talk to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

The door creaks open, but Riley doesn’t look away from Lucas and he doesn’t look away from her. She wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can, but it’s hard when she hears someone speak.

“I knew I’d find you in here with her.”

Both Riley and Lucas look at Zay standing in the doorway. He smiles at them and takes a sip from his cup. “Riley’s pretty great, isn’t she?”

Lucas looks away from Zay and focuses on Riley. “Yeah, she is. I’d say she’s something special.”

The words ring through Riley’s ears. Her heart slams against her ribcage, and she’s sure her cheeks are flushed. She didn’t think she’d ever meet someone who could make her feel nervous simply by saying something nice about her. Charlie did all the time, and she never felt her body react like this. But she’s also never felt an intense connection with someone upon seeing them, and now that she has spoken to Lucas, the connection seems to have intensified. Riley’s eyes meet Lucas’, and she wants to soak in as much as she can of this moment.

[kiruuuuu]

Bandit/Jäger oneshot in which Jäger is convinced that jerking off while wearing Bandit’s jacket is the best thing since sliced bread. (Rating E, explicit smut/eventual fluff, ~6k words) - written for @blitznbandit. Happy Birthday!! 💞💞

.

The music is loud enough to dampen all other sounds, the usual hard rock Bandit favours, full of cheesy guitar riffs and dudes singing about all the things these kinds of dudes normally sing about – and yet Bandit’s voice easily pierces the cacophony despite being nothing more than a low purr: “I can’t take my eyes off you, you’re beautiful. I could do this all night.” One of his hands pushes under Jäger’s t-shirt, rubs over a nipple while the other continues to slowly but surely drive him insane, keeps the strokes slow. He knows exactly how Jäger likes it, massages the head and his balls now and then before his fist closes around the shaft once more to continue the teasing. They’re in a remarkably clean bathroom somewhere, probably a club, both of them sober but having made the decision to go pee at the same time? No, that’s right, Bandit dragged him here after undressing him with his eyes, couldn’t stand to be separated from him just a minute longer.

When Jäger throws his head back into the pillows at a particularly vicious throb of his rock hard erection, the headphones almost get pushed off his ears and so he has to momentarily withdraw his one hand to adjust them before he pushes it back under the jacket, the only piece of clothing he’s wearing right now. The rhythm of the song returns, resonating in his body, and he sinks back into his fantasy like a comfy blanket.

He was cold earlier, on the way to the club or pub or wherever they are, that’s why he’s wearing it. It fits him perfectly, the soft leather like a second skin and it smells like Bandit, too, dizzyingly so because Jäger’s toes curl every time he moves and catches a whiff of it. In a way, it’s like being hugged by Bandit constantly, and so his projection does, whispers more filth into Jäger’s ear as he proceeds to jerk him exactly how he likes it only now there’s an edge to his voice. He sounds strained and keeps glancing down, is clearly affected by what he sees and it won’t be long until he’s tired of waiting, until he turns Jäger around and fucks him, right then and there in the really quite clean bathroom, claims his body, moans into his ear as he thrusts into him and reaches around to continue -

Jäger gasps and lies to himself for a second, pretends he’ll go for another round if he finishes early but it’s only his impatience getting to him – this together with the mental image of Bandit losing control due to his unbearable desire is too much and he’s so close already. Breathing heavily, he forces his own hand away from his weeping dick and strokes his thigh instead, forces himself to wait a bit before he continues. In his mind, Bandit is teasing him, denying him his release so they can come simultaneously, telling him how good he feels as he keeps pushing into Jäger’s hole which is tingling pleasantly right now. Maybe he should go a step further today, he has enough time. It’s tempting.

For now, he has to pace himself. He could take a break and possibly dig up Bandit’s aftershave as well, change positions and reach a bit lower, to the place where his fingers are lazily trailing now, brushing over his scrotum, travelling further south. He decides to go for it but first, he needs lube, so he heaves a shaky sigh, opens his eyes and does not expect Bandit to just stand there two metres away, staring at him directly with a small, disbelieving grin on his lips and his phone in his hand.

The panic is instant and follows the second in which Jäger’s heart literally stops in horror because not only has he just been caught in the act of wanking on Bandit’s bed wearing nothing but his trademark jacket, no, he’s been caught by the devil himself. Before the consequences which undoubtedly await him register, he jerks upright into a sitting position, dumbly shielding his cock from view, and pushes the blasted headphones off. It’s not even the first time he got caught while wearing some, that’s the beauty of it, he really should’ve known better, learnt from his adolescence but he’s already defending himself from himself mentally, recalls the fact that Bandit wasn’t supposed to be in the base the entire day and yet the only thing he blurts out is a heartfelt: “Fuck.”

“Oh yeah”, Bandit agrees with him and lets his grin morph into the sleaziest smirk Jäger has ever seen, “you fucked up, babe. Big time. Normally I have to pay for a show like this.”

“Delete it”, Jäger demands with burning cheeks.

“Oh, they’re on my cloud now”, Bandit replies innocently while tapping away at his screen – at least his gaze isn’t focused on Jäger anymore.

“Delete it all, Dom.”

“Whoops, I sent them to myself via email.” His teammate wiggles his eyebrows at him. “What a shame, I deleted all my saved passwords from my phone. Even if you steal it, you won’t be able to access it to purge it all.”

Fuck, Jäger repeats in his head and frantically starts searching for an alternative. Have Mute hack Dom’s phone? Mute would probably save the incriminating evidence himself and blackmail Jäger with it in the future. Tell Blitz? Jäger would rather give up his mortal soul than admit to what he’s done. As terrifying as it sounds, Bandit himself seems to be his best shot. Or rather: the least worst. “Okay, look”, he begins and hates himself for how his voice cracks.

“Ready to bargain?”, Bandit guesses correctly with a wolfish grin. “That’s what I like to hear. What are you willing to do to make these oh so delicious photos disappear, hm?”

A dangerous question. An absolutely dodgy and perilous question, a slip-and-slide kind of question because Bandit grants him the option of proposing exceedingly desperate solutions which his teammate might not even have considered viable, discarding them because surely, Jäger would never. But right now, senses heightened due to the adrenaline spike resulting from the shock, skin tingling where Bandit’s gaze unapologetically rakes over it and mind still occupied with residues from his earlier fantasies, Jäger would. Oh would he ever. He looks at Bandit and pictures himself on his knees in front of him, for the first time in his life servicing another man and dear God this shouldn’t be turning him on so much. He bites his lip and remains silent, refuses to answer for fear of what might come out of his mouth.

“No offers? Alright, no problem. I actually have something in mind already.” Humming to himself, Bandit starts rummaging in his wardrobe as if finding one of his colleagues clearly masturbating to him was an everyday occurrence for which he’s perfectly prepared. Regardless of his mortification, Jäger is intrigued, his cock twitching in anticipation and his mind racing while trying to discern what it is Bandit has planned for him. It must be something filthy, maybe he’s going to torture Jäger with toys or maybe he’ll finally, finally go all the way. Not that he’s refused before seeing as Jäger never gave any indication on wanting it, but this would be the ultimate excuse. He can tell himself – and Bandit – he only gave in because he was blackmailed. Right? He’s chewing on his lip and tries not to let his excitement show on his face, not to let Bandit know how much he’s actually looking forward to whatever it is he’s going to do to him.

And then Bandit pulls something out of his closet and says: “Wear this.”

Jäger blinks. Looks at the outfit with an even expression and struggles to come up with a reply for a few seconds. Ignores Bandit’s predatory grin. He can’t be serious. “You can’t be serious. No fucking way.”

“Who do you think would appreciate the pictures the most? Elias? Maybe one of the girls?”

“You can’t make me put this on.”

“Oh, I can and I will. You break into my room, wear my jacket, choke the chicken on my bed and have the audacity to tell me you’re not going to do me this small favour?”

It’s – Jäger can’t do this, he’ll never be able to look into a mirror again. Mindlessly horny or not, there is a line and this is definitely crossing it, he’s fine with performing sexual favours for his own pleasure but this – this is too much. Why does Bandit even own one of these? “Over my dead body, Dom.”

Bandit’s grin widens. “Well, if you insist.” And Jäger is not sure whether he’s joking or not.

.

Two minutes later, Jäger is kneeling on Bandit’s bed, wearing every midlife crisis suffering pervert’s wet dream of a schoolgirl uniform and valiantly fighting the flush threatening to darken his cheeks. It’s a complete set together with thigh-high socks, a much too short skirt and even a loose tie over the tight blouse – and Jäger wants to die. As if him sporting this abomination of an outfit wasn’t bad enough already, Bandit’s devilishly pleased face only increases his embarrassment to a point where Jäger is this close to actually choosing literal death over this humiliation. Worryingly enough, his dick hasn’t received the memo it’s supposed to be disliking any of this and instead is straining against the underwear on which Bandit insisted. It’s too small and uncomfortable and Jäger rues the day he first laid eyes on Bandit because he’s the whole reason it’s come to any of this.

“Why do you have this”, he wants to know defeatedly. The clothes fit suspiciously well and the two of them are built very similarly, so -

“Shut up and spread your legs. You’re going to finish what you started earlier, only by my rules. How does that sound?” Bandit sits down on a chair he pulled towards the bed, not close enough to reach and yet entirely too close for comfort. His leather jacket is draped over the backrest and Jäger throws it a longing glance. He’d much rather wear it than this disaster.

Upon hearing Bandit’s plans for him, he can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment amid all the horror. He swallows his pride together with the that’s it? lying on his tongue and obliges, allows Bandit a better view and averts his gaze. He’s never done this, never dressed up and… performed for someone else’s viewing pleasure so he’s lost on what to do and how to do it. Arousal is still thrumming in his blood, convincing him to relax a little, give in, and yet he’s hesitant.

“You like this, don’t you?”, Bandit purrs and Jäger only just stops himself from nodding. “This is supposed to be a punishment though. You’ve been naughty, you dirty little slut.”

“Okay, no”, Jäger protests immediately in indignation, “I can – I can do what you asked, but that’s -”

“Fucking slut”, Bandit repeats with gusto and a triumphant grin. “My rules, don’t forget that. Besides, you were the one ready to nut all over my poor jacket. If you want me that bad, show me. Let me see how much you want this.”

Jäger remembers now why this is a bad idea: Bandit is going to be insufferable. Reluctantly, he lifts the edge of the skirt, revealing the outline of his erection which jumped happily at Bandit’s insults (something he’ll have to worry about later, now’s not the time). His teammate’s expression slips into self-satisfied and he stretches out on his chair in anticipation. “Lovely. Go ahead, then. Give me a show.”

With gritted teeth, Jäger pulls down the waistband of the panties, hooking them under his testicles and freeing his stiff member from its prison, and contemplates existence for a second. It’s entirely his own fault he’s here now, there’s no real denying it – he could’ve borrowed the jacket and none of this would’ve happened, he wouldn’t be wrapping his own fingers around his cock with Bandit watching intently. Somehow, it’s worse than being touched by him, he’d prefer Bandit using him instead of this where he himself is in control and has the illusion of agency. And despite the shock earlier, the tip is still sensitive to the touch, sends small electric shocks through his body on every light stroke.

He feels filthy, sullied purely by the fact that Bandit is watching him, that there’s an asymmetry between them: Jäger flushed, breathing unevenly and genitals exposed whereas Bandit is composed and fully dressed. It’s elating somehow, like being allowed something forbidden and so he tightens his grip and speeds up, even leans back and flips the skirt up so Bandit won’t bitch. He can’t lie to himself and pretend he’s simply jerking off like usual because he knows Bandit’s there even if he’s not looking at him and instead fixing his gaze on his own swollen dick, no, it’s completely different and… he can’t say he doesn’t like it.

“Were you thinking about me?”, Bandit asks innocently and Jäger loses his rhythm for a moment, glances up in disbelief. “Huh? Were you imagining my hands around your cock instead of your own?” He’s balancing his chair on two legs while regarding Jäger with a fond smile and in any other context it’d seem almost sweet – right now, it’s nothing but cheeky.

“I wasn’t -” He breaks off and gasps when the words finally register because oh yeah, it’s the logical conclusion from how Bandit found him, isn’t it? Therefore, Bandit now knows of his attraction, possibly guesses a crush and dear Lord. That’s not ideal, is it? He’ll shamelessly exploit his knowledge. Kind of like he is now.

“But you were. I didn’t know you liked me that much.”

“I don’t”, Jäger insists emphatically and vaguely panicked. Even after more than a year, Bandit still intimidates regularly him, his lack of conscience and overall callousness are alarming and the two of them clash now and then, neither of them ready to back down from an argument which often results in stony silence until they go drinking together and suddenly are best friends again. Bandit is fickle and vulgar and yet something about him appeals to Jäger, probably his softer side which surfaces rarely. He can be lovely and thoughtful and even compassionate, and thus Jäger’s mind wanders, conjures up situations where this complicated, complex man feels so drawn to him that his lust wins over common sense – and it’s fucking cliché, he knows that, as cheesy as it is improbable and so he’s ashamed to admit to his fantasies.

“No? You don’t?” Bandit acts surprised and for a moment, Jäger wants to trip his chair and send him flying. “If it’s not my charming personality, it must be my body. Right?” It warrants no answer and so Jäger simply concentrates on not coming too early – the temptation to end this as quickly as possible is strong, just like his desire, though he feels Bandit would make his dissatisfaction known in that case and he wants to avoid exactly that. “Maybe it helps you if I take off my clothes as well.”

Jäger stops moving his hand. While he’s frozen and simply staring at his erection framed by the pattered fabric of the skirt and the white lace, he hears rustling and feels his heart speed up. Slowly, he raises his gaze and is confronted with a flat belly first, then black ink on pale skin, meandering over pronounced muscles and distracting to a point where it takes Jäger several seconds to notice the dark metal. Jesus Christ. His shaft twitches in his fingers the moment he realises Bandit’s nipples are pierced and he watches, thunderstruck, as Bandit licks over the pad of his thumb and begins playing with one of the rings, his grin never once fading.

Holy hell. This is -

“Don’t fucking stop. You’re supposed to entertain me.” With a barely suppressed moan, Jäger resumes his strokes, drinks in the lithe body lounging in front of him and tries to picture the scene from outside – him in this ridiculous outfit, wanking to a half naked Bandit teasing himself. His eyes are drawn to Bandit’s crotch and find what they’re looking for, the outline of his boner visible even through the jeans and when he sees it strain upwards, he inhales sharply. “You want me to join you?”, Bandit questions him calmly and this time, Jäger gives a direct answer, nods eagerly and bites his lip when Bandit’s unoccupied hand starts unbuttoning his jeans. Excitement rises in him because even if he might not get to touch it, at least he’s going to see his dick and file the image away for later, for when he can ‘borrow’ the jacket maybe or find out where he buys his aftershave. He’s not obsessing about this. He’s not.

When Bandit pulls his erection out, Jäger’s first reaction is a bit underwhelming because hey, it’s a cock, very similar to his own, nothing he hasn’t seen before, only then his mind catches up that it’s Bandit’s and it’s in this state only because of him. Heat rises in him at this realisation and he subconsciously mirrors Bandit’s movements, slides his hand from the tip to the base a few times before going for shorter, faster motions which steal his breath away – though not nearly as much as the sight in front of him. He gets it now, gets the appeal of making someone else pleasure themselves. His eyes are glued to Bandit’s erect cock, to the wet head just as much as the long fingers massaging it, working the shaft, and yes. He likes this. It’s mutual, incredibly hot and relatively tame despite his costume. If this is all he’ll have to do, he’s more than fine with it.

“You’re enjoying this too fucking much”, Bandit pants, slightly shaken and not unaffected which intensifies the rush Jäger gets from all of this, “how about you put the ass in masturbate and finger yourself a bit?”

Well. So much for that. He halts for the nth time but is too far gone to stop touching himself entirely, strokes over the sensitive spot right below the head and moans involuntarily when he sees Bandit doing the same. “Can’t I just – ah – keep going like this?”

“Sluts don’t get to come from their dicks, sweetheart. Lube is in the drawer.”

When Jäger utters a breathy laugh at the blunt statement, Bandit’s serious façade crumbles and makes way for a short-lived genuine smile which usually shows when Jäger actually managed to amuse him and also destroys the illusion of a power imbalance momentarily. “I can’t do it the other way though”, he says as he crawls to the other side of the bed only to balk at the variety of items in Bandit’s bedside table. The skirt is brushing over his tip and he’s well aware of the view which he’s presenting to Bandit – butt raised in his direction – and yet can’t find the energy to care.

“So you’ve tried before?” Bandit sounds intrigued again and when Jäger shoots him a look and an affirmative though hesitant nod, the smile is gone, replaced by a fiery gaze and an expectant smirk. “How many can you fit in? Three? No, no, don’t take the panties off, just push them down and let me see.”

Jäger knows what he’s asking for and the thought causes all the embarrassment to return which vanished upon Bandit starting to jerk off as well. Uncertainly, he drags the underwear over his hips and shows his backside to his teammate, shuffle closer to the edge of the bed per Bandit’s instructions until his feet are dangling over it. He can only imagine what he must look like right now – basically offering himself, skirt riding up and barely covering his ass, white blouse flattering his narrow waist and thigh-high socks adorning his legs. The feeling of depravity returns once more because it’s a shameful pose, no matter how easily he relented. Without giving it too much thought, he flips the cap open and pours some lube into his hand, coats his fingers and reaches behind him.

“Just imagine it’s my fingers”, Bandit speaks up, voice thick. He seems to be enjoying himself if his laboured breathing is any indication, and so Jäger wastes no time and gingerly pushes one finger into himself, relaxes into it and tries to ignore his pose, him on his hands and knees just for Bandit. It helps to picture his object of desire behind him, pretend it’s him slowly working Jäger open, getting him ready for -

When he adds the second finger, his arm gives in and he buries his face in the blanket to muffle his moan because now he’s thinking of Bandit taking him again, the idea flighty and vague in his head yet oh so tempting. Bandit would claim him, show no mercy, lose himself and it’d be incredible. He can hear more rustling behind him, Bandit probably shuffling around on his seat, but the blood rushing in his ears is louder. It’s rare enough that he does this, breaches himself for the sake of mind-blowing pleasure, and now he’s showing it to Bandit of all people, his gaze setting him ablaze, mind running wild with hopeful thoughts.

“That’s right. Reach all the way inside. You look fucking amazing like this.” Jäger stifles another moan at the low rumble of Bandit’s voice and concentrates on the odd feeling his fingers are causing, not unpleasant but strange nonetheless. He hasn’t fully gotten used to it yet but inserts a third finger tentatively, stretches himself and feels his dick twitch in response. “You’re so eager. Do you do this often? Fantasise it’s my cock instead? I didn’t know you wanted me this badly, you little slut, you’d probably be happy choking on my dick, too.” Jäger is biting his lip once again, the words getting to him more than he’d like to admit. He feels like putty in Bandit’s hands, probably would obey his every order right now, especially if he were allowed to suck him off despite never have done so before. He’d find a way.

And then a hand comes down on his ass, hard. He jumps at the loud smack and it’s the shock more than actual hurt which causes it – Bandit is standing right behind him but Jäger can’t see because his face is still in the sheets and it’s the second time Bandit catches him unaware. “Take your fingers out”, he orders and Jäger does, slowly, leaves behind an odd, empty feeling, made even more vulnerable due to the fact that Bandit is this close now, can inspect it directly. “Do you want this instead?”

Before Jäger can ask, there’s something touching his backside, touching his hole and it’s blunt and hot and holy fucking Christ. It’s finally happening. He’s frozen, focuses on the silky smooth feel of Bandit’s shaft slowly rubbing up and down over his ring of muscle and has trouble breathing, clenches his fists, tries and fails not to tremble. “Huh? I can’t hear you. Do you want me to stick it in?” Jäger is tongue tied with how much he wants it, pushes against Bandit’s dick and is rewarded with another sharp slap to his ass which has him shy away. “As long as you don’t have a cock in your mouth, you can answer.”

Bandit leans over him for a moment and the next thing Jäger knows is an insistent tug at his throat, threatening to cut off his air and so he rises the more Bandit pulls on his tie, has it wrapped around one hand and drags Jäger so far up that he’s on his knees and fingertips now, wobbling unsteadily and eyes wide in alarm. He can still breathe shallowly and it doesn’t hurt but he doesn’t want to test his limits. “Marius, my dear friend and part-time slut, do you want me to fuck you right now or not?” Bandit sounds amused, as if he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“Yes”, Jäger whispers and sucks air in through his teeth when he feels Bandit’s thick head breaching him straightaway. His belly flutters and his mouth falls open at the intrusion, his ring of muscle pulsing around the shaft yet welcoming it easily due to the thorough preparation, and it’s – he feels it in his throat, every centimetre is like a landslide, fills him to the brim and makes him wonder how it’s possible for him to accommodate this much. He’s being complemented, becoming one with Bandit and despite the circumstances, it’s painfully intimate and causes a fuzzy, warm feeling to rise up in him. The pressure around his neck disappears once Bandit is buried fully in him and he sinks back down, pants against the sheets and experimentally squeezes around Bandit’s cock, relishes the sensation of it throbbing this deep. It feels even better than he thought it would.

“Fuck”, Bandit hoarsely voices all that Jäger can think right now as well, “oh fuck. You’re so tight. Oh my God.” Hands come to rest on Jäger’s hips, thumbs brushing over his lower back and Bandit withdraws, pushes back in and Jäger is lost to the world. It’s so different to anything he’s felt before, a much more fundamental pleasure, and he has to give himself up for it, trust Bandit to take care of him. His eyes fall shut and his toes curl during the next thrusts, still gentle, tentative, but then Bandit grabs the waistband of his skirt and starts dragging him to meet his movements as Jäger moans helplessly. Bandit’s earlier words come to mind for some reason – and right now, he admittedly does feel pretty slutty.

None of his wank fantasies could’ve held up to the real thing, it’s an odd mix of deliberate and wild, he’s being flooded with sensations yet they’re predictable to a certain point, reassuring and deeply satisfying. He rocks back into Bandit and his senses are being overloaded with intense lust, forcing moans out of his throat and making his thighs shiver – every thrust hits something inside him which makes him see stars, pushes him into the mattress as he just lies there and allows Bandit to take him apart without even considering touching himself. His dick is worryingly stiff and leaking copious amounts of precum, he’s never just dripped like this and yet it feels too good to end it this soon.

Curiosity and the need for a deeper connection win over his embarrassment and he props himself up on his lower arms, twists around so he can look at Bandit and has the sneaking suspicion he ends up gazing at him so lovingly and devotedly he must look like a newly deflowered virgin. He certainly still feels that fluttery thing in his stomach which probably also shows on his face, but Bandit doesn’t seem to mind his longing expression because he just flashes him an affectionate smile and starts petting him. Without interrupting his hard thrusts, he strokes over Jäger’s back, softly drags his nails over his scalp in a soothing gesture and brushes over his side before telling him: “You look so pretty like this.”

You too, Jäger thinks, flattered, and savours the view of all the intricate tattoos up close for a moment before a spike of pleasure makes him whine. Bandit’s eyes darken and he speeds up, reaches around Jäger’s body to jerk him to completion but slows down when Jäger asks him to wait. “Can we -”, he stops when Bandit bottoms out and has to take a deep breath before being able to continue, “- I want to… let me look at you.”

And Bandit returns his gaze, both fond and disarmed, before sighing and pulling out, making both of them groan. “Alright. Lie down.” He pats Jäger’s ass and removes the lacy underwear, crawls between his legs once Jäger has made himself comfortable on his back. Only now does he notice Bandit is actually wearing a condom, something which he didn’t feel before, and not for the first time is his mouth faster than his brain.

“Do you want to take that off?”

Bandit laughs in disbelief and scoots closer. “Are you fucking serious?” He slides back into Jäger and, once again, it’s entirely new since now they’re looking at each other, much closer than before and Jäger can’t help but feel up Bandit’s chest, trace the ink with his fingertips and pull lightly on one of the nipple rings while wrapping his legs around Bandit’s waist, barely taking notice of the long socks. “Looks like you really are a slut, you take my cock so willingly, you’re basically drawing me in yourself. How does it feel?” He thrusts deep and Jäger moans in response, arches his back and grips Bandit’s thighs. “Hm? How does my cock feel?”

He’s starting to get light-headed from the intensity of it, from finally being this close to Bandit, hearing him moan now and then, his features contorting in pleasure – he’s painfully attractive and simply looking at him sates a hunger inside Jäger of which he wasn’t aware previously. “It feels fucking amazing”, he replies quietly because it does but also because the smile he gets in return is blinding. He’s grinding against Bandit now, moving one of his hands to his own crotch to finish with Bandit fucking him what started as him being all alone.

“Yeah? You like it?”, Bandit wants to know and grins, satisfied, when Jäger just nods. “You look so cute, you know, like you can’t get enough. Maybe I’ll dress you up properly next time and fuck you so hard your mascara smudges.” For a moment, the image is in Jäger’s mind, him bouncing on Bandit’s dick in the same outfit as right now, nails and lips painted the same shade, and – and no, he can’t do that. He shakes his head slightly even as his hand speeds up, his muscles tensing. He realises with sudden clarity that he’s close, that he’s going to come with Bandit’s cock deep inside and Bandit looking down at him almost proudly and it’s all he ever wanted, even if he’s wearing a goddamn skirt. Every one of Bandit’s thrusts rock his whole body and he looks down to where they’re connected, can watch the shaft entering him over and over again and it feels so incredibly good.

“I’m gonna come”, he whispers and moans when his words earn him a brutal thrust which hits all the right spots, his hand tightening. “Oh fuck, Dom, I’m gonna -”

“Do it.”

And after Bandit has slammed into him a few more times, Jäger gets pushed over the edge, finally tips over into the promised land of sweet relief. Warmth spreads from his midsection, rushes down all the way into his toes, forces the air out of his lungs and has him curl up in bliss, disbelieving sounds falling from his lips as his dick pulses and spurts thick semen all over his clothes. It’s pure ecstasy, much more extreme than any orgasm he’s ever had before, shakes him to his core and leaves him quivering. Waves of pleasure muddle his brain so that he barely notices the gentle hand pushing his hair back and brushing over his eyebrows as he shudders and clamps down on Bandit’s erection.

While he coasts on the afterglow, slowly relaxing, loosening the death grip of his legs around Bandit and sinking back into the pillows, Bandit continues his affectionate ministrations, strokes his cheek, touches his parted lips, caresses his exposed throat and then massages his chest, digs his fingertips into his muscles and helps ground him, soothes his exhausted body. He stopped moving when Jäger came, displaying an impressive amount of patience and when he manages to open his eyes again, Bandit is regarding him almost victoriously. “Felt good?”, he asks.

Jäger just nods, still stunned, and when Bandit smiles yet again, he just – pulls him down and kisses him. Despite everything, they’ve barely touched the entire time so he’s starving for closer contact now, stretches towards Bandit and hums when he reciprocates, toys with his tongue and admits to himself that alright, maybe he does have a slight crush, but so what? Sure, maybe the target of his infatuation just made him wear this ludicrous costume and insists on calling him a slut but no one’s perfect, right? He’ll easily forgive Bandit everything as long as he won’t stop snogging him like this, thorough and filthy. Since Bandit hasn’t come yet, he pulls him in with his legs, rocks against him and moans into his mouth when Bandit understands and picks up where he left off, drives into Jäger and gasps when he clenches around him.

They never stop kissing until Bandit reaches his orgasm as well, one moment Jäger is sucking on his lower lip with abandon and the next Bandit tenses up and pants and groans against his neck, sheaths himself fully in Jäger and climaxes as well, body trembling under Jäger’s palms and cock throbbing. The sensation is addicting and part of Jäger wishes he’d gone bareback. Just so he can strike it off his bucket list, of course. For a few wonderful moments, it’s quiet, both of them concentrating on their breathing, Jäger basking in Bandit’s body heat, and then Bandit withdraws to tie off the condom and carelessly throw it to the floor. They look at each other, a little lost, and Jäger’s arms feel oddly empty all of a sudden.

“Can I take this off now?”, he eventually wants to know and Bandit chuckles.

“Sure. I’ll have to wash it anyway, you jizzed all over it.”

“I might regret the question”, Jäger responds as he’s unbuttoning the blouse, “but I just need to know: why do you own a schoolgirl outfit?”

“There’s a perfectly normal explanation. It was supposed to be Jackal’s Halloween costume but it was a little too short, so he gave it to me. I honestly didn’t think you’d be so into it, but here we are.”

“Here we are”, Jäger echoes and throws the second sock onto the floor. They look at each other again. “Are you going to delete the photos now?”

“Are you kidding? You jerking off in my jacket is the single hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, there’s no way I’m deleting anything. But there’s also no way I’m showing anyone else. That shit stays with me. It’s mine now.” Oh. Alright. If he puts it like that, Jäger supposes he’s fine with it. Mostly. It’d be even better if Bandit wrapped around him again but that’s probably asking too much – they’re done with each other now, it’s like a finished transaction. Both of them got out of it what they wanted. Right? “What were you listening to, actually?”

Jäger opens his mouth but Bandit is faster, snatches the player still attached to the headphones which were discarded on the bed and scrolls through the playlist. The more he sees, the higher his eyebrows rise. “This is all – you always complain when I put any of this on. Do you even like this music? Man, you really must have it bad for me, eh?”

It’s a joke. Both of them know it’s a joke and yet he can’t bring himself to laugh, can’t even pretend to find it funny and so he stays dead silent. Bandit fixes him with a level stare. “You’re fucking with me.”

There’s nothing he can say. He has no defence and so he remains mute.

Bandit lowers the music player and blinks at him, his expression unreadable. “I need a smoke”, he announces and gets up, probably flees and Jäger can’t blame him. After all, this is coming out of nowhere and there was no indication this meant anything. Despite the way they beamed at each other. Despite all the kisses. Just as suddenly, Bandit changes his mind and sits down again, drags Jäger closer and manhandles him onto his lap, embracing him and hissing: “Fuck. You goddamn idiot. Fucking talk to me. How did you think wanking in my bed would help you in any way?”

“I just -” He doesn’t know. In a weak attempt at being funny, he offers: “I mean, it kinda did.”

A huffed laugh and then Bandit is locking lips with him again and this time, both of them are fully aware of what it means. Jäger smiles into it, holds on to him and kisses back contentedly, satisfied with just staying like this for a few minutes, the warm, fluttering feeling returning to his stomach. “I didn’t know”, Bandit murmurs eventually and Jäger shakes his head gently.

“I didn’t tell you.”

“Does this mean I can officially call you my slut now?”

Jäger snorts and jabs him in the ribs. “Absolutely not.” Then, all of a sudden, a different thought occurs to him: “Did Jackal give you the panties as well?”

And, with a wide grin, Bandit says: “No, don’t worry. Those are just my own.”

[hemilywrites]

01/01/2018

    So here we go... 

    It’s 11:21pm and I just spent half an hour figuring out tumblr themes. Turns out I have lost all knowledge my 17-year-old self had gained on coding tumblr themes so we’ve stuck to a nice and easy built-in ‘FREE’ theme. The very idea that someone on this website is paying, any money at all, for a theme... that’s true insanity to me. 

   I don’t really know where I’m going with this so apologies are in advance for this poorly written blog post but I kind of thought about this last minute. How am I gonna make 2018 better? 2017 was the shit years of all shit years, so how am I gonna change things for myself? Try and ignore the fact that Trump is president? Only drive at 35 mph so if a deer decides to run out in front of me I don’t completely total another car? Tell my appendix to stop inflaming? My ovaries to stop growing cysts? And the ER doctors that those antibiotics will in fact hurt when my colon inflames with an ‘itis’ and I’m never going to eat again? 

    Maybe I should take my antidepressants. Maybe I shouldn’t have ditched out on the therapist with the unfortunate last name. Maybe I shouldn’t have that third coffee of the day. And maybe I should “just try meditating or something.’ Wow. That was more honest than it should have been. But one of the four therapists I visited this year wrote to me, on a little notecard after my semester long group therapy session was over, that he appreciated all the honesty I showed but he feared for me, feared that I wouldn’t carry out that same honesty to the real world. That I would let my feelings bottle up and explode as I’ve done ever since I was 7-years-old. 

    I was dragged into 2018 kicking and screaming. With tears and hyperventilating, and too many frantic calls to my mom.  I’m thankful for everyone I love. Thankful for my mom who stayed on the phone with me as I stared at a wall and didn’t respond, even when she lost her olive decked beer in the bathroom of the annual new years eve party. For my dad, who drove an hour home from said party in 35 below weather just so I wouldn’t be completely alone in my mania. For my grandma and grandpa who called me over and over and offered to stay on the phone and even drive in the frozen tundra to come and get me. And for my best friend who called with freakishly good timing and didn’t even seem to flinch when I answered choking on tears. For offering to come get me or stay with me even though we had had a big night planned of drinks and celebration. 

     I’m embarrassed. Embarrassed that at 21-years-old, I can’t make it to the new years eve celebration without having a complete mental break down. Completely unwarranted, mind you. And the thing most scary for myself, not triggered by anything I can name. I wasn’t over caffeinated, I wasn’t stressed, and I had a good night’s sleep in preparation. And I still found myself huddled on the stairs, half in the kitchen and feeling an impending doom for something that just isn’t there. 

     A few days ago I was scrolling through tumblr, as I do, and I found a little picture of a wallet with loose leaf paper shoved where the license should be. Written on it was a simple, blue ‘I will live.’ And I think that’s the big thing I need to remember as I follow the days into 2018. I will live and if I don’t than I don’t want to regret not living to the fullest while I still could. That didn’t make sense really but I spent a lot of time in 2017, as well as every year of my goddamn life, worrying. Worrying is not simple for me, worrying leads to questioning human existence and my place within it’s small role in the overarching endless space of  the universe. I feel worthless and pointless and it leads to that thought that my life doesn’t matter and ‘what’s the fucking point????’ But I think that’s exactly the point I need to remember in this new year. That even if I’m not 100% sure what’s happening in the spiritual world and if I’m christian or agnostic or atheist and that if humans do have a point to existing at all, especially in the small blip we have been around in comparison to Earth itself. It’s that regardless if I have a point or a purpose, that I’m here now, and I won’t always be and everyone I love won’t always be, so instead of worrying about the point and what could happen, to enjoy it the way it is here and now. To not get caught up in all the horrible events of the world but to enjoy all the great ones. 

    I, unlike most of the world in both modern and past time, have been gifted with an amazing life. I can go where ever I want, I can eat, I can get an education, I can walk, and read and write. I probably, hopefully, won’t ever get burnt alive for being a witch (knocking on wood here, I guess I can’t completely rule this out for ever happening in our ever changing world). But I live in the time and place that I will have the most opportunity than I could ever have had before. And I’m no philosopher but I guess that’s pretty cool. 

    So, here’s to 2018. To remembering that I will live. To remembering all those women in past and present times that never and will never get the opportunities that I have. And to remembering that you don’t need a purpose or place in this world to take advantage of the life you were given. And to being able to write and send my thoughts out to random strangers on the internet (who knows how long this will be able to last with net neutrality walking the plank). 

    It’s officially 12:05 am now and no longer January 1st, so I guess I should close this up and see you tomorrow. Or really today, I guess. 

[sickdaysofficial]

Not Your Sweetheart

17 August – Public Illness

<a href=“https://mohini-musing.tumblr.com/”>@MohiniMusing</a>

Fandom:  Marvel’s Avengers

Warnings: emeto, hurt/comfort, drug use, implied previous physical abuse, foster care

Summary : I’m blaming this one on my fervent hatred for all forms of spinning carnival death traps, okay guys? Also possibly on not nearly enough hours of sleep this week. Pick one. Either way, have some teenage Tasha and James from the Chasing Ghosts story verse and a bit of a losing battle against the rides.

~~

James doesn’t usually give a shit about the broken kids who filter in and out of the home he’s going to age out of in another year. Tasha’s unique, though. She’s sharp tongued, quick to rise to a fight and equally quick to win them decisively.  He hasn’t quite figured out what her damage is, but she keeps it wrapped up tight and deep. It’s not a coping strategy he’s unfamiliar with. What he does know is that she’s not looked this much like a kid in the six months since she arrived with a duffle worth of stuff and a thousand yard stare.

“Come on, Jamie,” she tells him as she meets him outside the ladies room, giggling when he scowls at the diminutive of his name. Everyone else finds his scowl frightening. Tasha seems to actually enjoy provoking it.

She grabs his hand and pulls him back into line for what may very well be the hundredth time on a roller coaster that was probably cutting edge twenty years ago when it was built. Now, it’s a rattling line of cars trundling along a track that he hopes has been inspected recently enough to be sure it won’t come apart mid-descent. Tasha loves it.

He follows along with her, and she leans against him while they wait in the line. Her pupils are blown and she sniffles a little every so often. James politely ignores the fact that she’s high, has been since they arrived, and is probably going to be until they are close enough to leaving to risk the adults in the care home noticing. She’s happy, and that’s rare enough that he doesn’t much care how she got there.

She’s such a kid like this, giggling herself breathless as the ride takes them swooping down and around a couple loops and a few short corkscrews. Whatever is running through her veins makes it tricky for her to stand well when they climb out of the car this time. He wraps an arm around her waist to steady her, whispering in her ear to pull it together when she stumbles. He deposits her on a bench with orders to stay put and goes to grab soda. It’s not so much that he thinks it will sober her up as that he’s fairly certain she hasn’t bothered to eat recently and crappy blood sugar can’t possibly be doing her any favors.

She grumbles when he returns but sips at the fizzy sugared syrup obediently. She’s starting to settle in a bit, less giddy but definitely not quite sober either. It’s a better state of mind for her and one that makes James a lot less nervous that she’s going to get them caught. She hands the cup back to him after finishing better than half of it and asks if they can go ride something else. She sounds nervous, and he claps a hand on her shoulder to break the tension there. Instead, she startles and he remembers the bruises on her skin half a year ago.

“Hey,” he says, drawing out the vowel in an effort to calm her. “It’s all good, Tash. What do you want to hit next?”

She shakes her head, as if trying to clear it and the mask falls almost instantly into place. A bright smile that goes nowhere near her eyes is suddenly plastered across her face. “Monster?” she asks, gesturing toward the ridiculously named mass of swirling black metal.

“Sure, kid,” he tells her.

She promptly punches him in the arm. It’s not exactly gentle, either. Tasha hates a lot of things, but being called a kid is pretty high on the list.

“Fine, fine, not a fucking kid. That better not leave a mark, you beast!”

They head for the spinning monstrosity and are in a little black capsule within a few minutes. Once the ride gets going, the capsule is spinning on itself at the same time the entire behemoth is rotating around the fenced enclosure. Tasha’s back to giggling maniacally, and when she demands a second ride immediately after they exit, he goes with it.

He half expects her to ask again when they disembark the next time, but she reaches for and grips his forearm tight enough that her nails are digging into the skin a few feet outside the gates.

“You okay?”

“Just, little dizzy,” she mumbles.

He wraps an arm around her back to steady her and guides her toward a bench, pressing her onto the seat and keeping a grip on one of her slim biceps to keep her from falling sideways. A close look at her eyes reveals that while the dilation is much less than earlier, they’ve started a rhythmic back and forth twitch. <i> Nystagmus, <i> a mostly dormant part of his brain supplies. He remembers it from a health class, maybe? Something he read at some point? At any rate, Tasha’s eyes are jerking back and forth and she’s biting her lower lip, hard. He crouches so that he’s near eye level with her.

“Give me some input, here? You gonna pass out on me or something?”

She shakes her head and grimaces, closing her eyes as she shudders. There’s a distinct sheen of moisture at her hairline now, and the color is draining from her face in a hurry.

“Do you think you’re going to be sick?” he asks.

That gets another shake of her head, but the frantic swallowing isn’t giving him much confidence. There’s no time to get her anywhere near a trash can before she lurches forward. A couple soft belches give way to a groaning heave, and the soda he coaxed into her is spattering the ground a second after he thinks to jump out of the way. She coughs and sputters for a few minutes before her body figures out that she’s empty.

James rubs her back, one hand keeping the wisps of hair that escaped her ponytail away from her face. “You good now?” he asks.

“Still feel gross,” she stammers, eyes looking up at him with the most vulnerable expression he thinks he has ever seen on her.

“Think we can get you to a bathroom?” he tries.  Not that he cares who’s looking, but people are definitely staring at the hurling redhead and he’s fairly certain she’s not going to appreciate the audience once she’s a bit more aware of it.

Tasha shakes her head miserably, crossing her arms around her stomach and bending so far in half her head is nearly against her knees. She pants harshly a few times before bringing up the remains of whatever she ate that morning. When she tapers down into empty heaves, James pats her back awkwardly until it’s finally over. 

“Think m’done,” she finally tells him, lifting her head and wiping at her mouth with the back of one wrist.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” he tells her, levering her to her feet and guiding her toward the nearest restroom. He ignores the glares from a couple parent looking people as he ushers her into the one designated for families. She drops into a heap over the toilet almost the moment he lets go of her and retches up what James is pretty sure must be nothing but bile at this point.

He kneels beside her, cupping one hand under her forehead to keep her from sticking her face in the bowl while keeping the other hand at the small of her back. “Shhh, Tasha, sweetheart, you’re empty. Breathe for me, yeah? You’ve got to settle down.”

“Not your fucking sweetheart,” she growls back, before leaning back on her heels and promptly falling against James.

“Course not. You’re my fucking idiot who should really, really know better than to ride the vomitron high as a kite,” he tells her.

It’s the second time she punches him for the day and this time it’s probably going to leave a mark.