#i was friends with her for three years and jesus fucking christ. she fucked me up in ways i'm still reeling from.

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[fingertipsmp3]

That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did

[oldhabitsdiescrming]

.

[annwrites]

how the hell are we going to get through this, baby?

— pairing: gale cleven x wife!reader x john egan

— type: one-shot (for the moment being, at least)

— summary: you, gale, & john are in a polygamous marriage & you share one last dance with them before they're shipped off to war.

— word count: 2,251

John takes a sip of his beer, then looks at you, or, rather, the back of your head. Your beautiful head of hair, soft and loose. He dreads the idea of tonight being the last time he'll ever touch it—you. His girl, his sweetheart, his wife, his goddamn everything since you were five-years-old, and he and Gale six.

He smiles when you throw your head back, laughing at whatever joke your friend, Marie, has just told you.

"How the hell are we supposed to leave her here all alone like this?" John asks.

Gale turns his head in your direction, leaning back against the bar, forearms braced on either side of him. "We don't have another choice."

John shakes his head. "She's going to fall apart when we leave. She won't be able to properly look after herself once we—"

Gale interrupts him, his head turning in his direction. "She's not some China doll, John."

"She's fragile. And too damn gentle. Since we were kids, there's barely been a day where she's had to live without us. The hell do you think she'll do if one of us—or even worse, both of us—come home to her in a casket?"

A muscle in Gale's jaw feathers, and he takes another drink of his beer. "It's why I married her, John. To make sure she got my pension incase—"

"Some monthly check isn't going to fucking hold her at night, or—"

Gale turns himself back around, not wanting the entire room to witness the argument that's about to erupt between the two of them.

One last good night, that's all he'd asked for. And yet, John's stubborn ass can never be bothered to just go along with things.

"What the hell would you have me do, Bucky?"

John turns back around to the bar as well, resting his forearms atop it. "We should've never enlisted."

Gale's long fuse suddenly grows a great deal shorter then. "It's not like it was some spur-of-the-moment decision. We talked about it, all three of us. We decided it was the right thing to do. She gave us her blessing."

John lets out a chuckle with no humor behind it. "Because you think she'd ever tell you no?"

Gale leans in toward him then. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Everything she does is in hopes of pleasing you. And you have her wrapped right around your finger, don't you? That's why it's your ring that she's wearing." His tone has turned resentful.

"She's wearing yours, too. I'm sorry that polygamy isn't legal in the US. Why are you making everything my fault?"

He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but it hurt. His best friend, a man he shared a home, a life, a marriage, and a woman with treating him so lowly. And on their last night here—at home—at that. You were one half of him, John the other. But this disdain—believing you have a favorite between the two of them—wasn't a new development.

Finally, John sighs, softening. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared shitless. For both of us... For her."

They're both quiet for a moment, then John speaks again. "We should've tried to get her pregnant, and not stopped until she was."

Gale lets out a low swear. "You think that'd really help her? We get her pregnant so she can go through nine months of maternity all alone, neither of us there to hold her hand, or take care of her. And what if something happened? What if she miscarried, or—"

"Jesus Christ, why do you have to jump to the worst possible conclusion? She's too damn maternal not to be a mother, Gale."

"I'm not saying she isn't. But now isn't the right time. If you think losing one of us would tear her apart, losing a baby—our baby—would kill her."

John goes silent then. Before he glances back to you. "I just wanted to leave her with something. Some part of us to get her through this so she wouldn't be all alone."

Gale places his hand firmly on his best friend's shoulder. "She won't be alone. She has our folks."

He briefly wonders if this is really about leaving you with some part of them, or John leaving a piece of himself in the world if he doesn't live through this war.

He doesn't dare ask.

Finally, John stands, draining the last drops of his beer before walking over to his new bride.

Their bride.

You and Marie both look up at him as he comes to stand in front of you. "What's a guy got to do to get a pretty girl to dance with him around here, huh?"

You beam at him and it makes his heart jump.

"You just have to ask."

He pretends to balk. "That's it?"

You continue looking up at him, cheeks flushed, doe-eyes full of love and adoration.

He bends forward then, toward you, as he extends his right hand. "Well, then, miss, would you do the honor of giving this soldier one last dance?"

Marie sits by, watching with idle curiosity at your exchange.

You place your delicate hand in his own—your right one, which wears his ring—before standing.

John leads you over, into the middle of the room and spins you out before pulling you in close to him, until your chests are touching.

He places his right hand firmly against the small of your back as your left comes to rest upon his shoulder. He holds your other at chest-level as you begin to dance.

John presses his right cheek against your hair, closing his eyes for a moment. "How the hell are we going to get through this, baby?"

Tears sting your eyes, but you force it down. You won't cry. Not tonight. Not here, at least. You want this evening to be perfect.

You pull back far enough to look him in the eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "I wish I knew the answer."

You glance behind him, at Gale, who's watching you both with a small smile on his face.

You then continue. "This—all of it—both of you going off to war, having no idea how long that will be, what it will be like, all of us being apart for more than a couple of days for the first time in well over a decade... Not knowing...not knowing what the future holds..."

You trail off and have to take a moment to calm yourself before you turn into a shaking, sobbing mess.

John simply presses a firm kiss to your forehead, allowing you a moment to breathe.

Your eyes meet again and he picks up where you left off, looking down at you, his eyes full of surety. "We're going to get through this, sweetheart. We're going to get through this war, come back home to you, and then our lives together truly begin."

You desperately wish you had his optimism. In truth, you hope desperately that he's right, but more and more lately, you were doing your utmost to make yourself understand that their mutual survival...it may not come to pass. And that thought makes you feel sick.

If you lost both of them, you wouldn't bother trying to go on another day. They'd both made you swear and swear that you wouldn't even consider such a thing. And you had lied magnificently. Told each of them exactly what they wanted to hear. But you knew the truth of it in your heart.

John has his lips pressed to yours, kissing you long and deep, when a relaxed baritone voice interrupts you.

"Mind if I cut in?"

John finishes your kiss slowly, gently, before looking at Gale, who stands but a few inches from the two of you, hands in his pockets, looking at the two of you with so much love and warmth.

John chuckles, eye sparkling. "Trying to steal my girl, Cleven?"

Gale shrugs, a sly grin coming across his face. "Every chance I get, Egan."

John presses one last quick kiss to your hair, before stepping aside, whispering something into Gale's ear, which causes him to laugh out loud, then head back up to the bar.

Once Gale has taken John's place, you look up to him, an amused look on your face. "What was that about?"

Gale shakes his head, looking back at the man in question, a toothy grin on his face. "Nothin', darlin'."

He looks down at you, then.

"Was it about me?" You ask with a raised brow.

He chuckles. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You 'accidentally' step on one of his feet, causing him only to smirk down at you.

You bat your eyes at him. "Oops."

He gives a small nod of his head. "Starting to think that John's pickin' on you for all those years when we were kids is starting to rub off."

You grin, shaking your head.

He then leans in toward you to claim a kiss.

You try to sear the feeling of his lips against your into your memory. How slowly and passionately he kisses you, the taste of him, how he flicks the tip of his tongue against your lips, asking for entry, which you quickly give him.

When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed and lips swollen. You lie your cheek against his chest and he rests his chin atop your head.

You still when you notice two officers at the front of the room, looking at the two of you, chatting with each other, shocked and confused looks on their faces.

You look up at Gale and he reaches down, brushing a loose strand from your face.

"Those men are staring at us."

He shrugs, not even bothering with asking 'whom', before he replies "let 'em watch".

"You might be serving alongside them."

He gives you another kiss. "And?"

You sigh. "You know your fellow soldiers are going to talk about their girls, then ask about yours. About John's. What're you going to tell them?"

He's looking at you with mild amusement, like you should somehow already know the answer. "The truth, I guess."

You're surprised by his answer.

The two of them seemed to stop caring a long time ago about what others do, or even might think about them. You still find it difficult to at times. You want to reach the same level of surety about your marriage—it still feels so strange to even think about it as that now—that they both have.

"Oh."

He cups your cheek in his palm. "The only two people whose opinions I care about are yours and John's. Nobody else gets to have one, not when it comes to us." He brushes the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. "Alright?"

You nod.

He kisses you once more before you lie your head back against his chest, this time facing in John's direction.

"Promise me you'll both take care of each other. That you won't let any stupid fights or squabbles get between you."

He replies almost instantly. "With our lives, honey. You know that. Won't be time for fighting each other when we'll have enemies on all sides that we'll be doing that with."

You nod. "Are you scared?"

He's silent for a moment, and that silence alone gives you your answer.

"Think I'd be stupid not to be. I know a lot of these boys are hoping to go off to Europe and become heroes, not wanting to acknowledge that they may not make it back in one piece, if at all. I'm just trying to keep my head out of the clouds and my expectations reasonable."

He begins rubbing one of his palms soothingly against your back.

"And John?"

"We haven't spoken much about it."

Because they're both scared, you think. They both put up such brave faces in front of you—for you—but you can read each of them like the back of your hand.

You suddenly feel a second body pressing itself against your back, strong arms wrapping around you, and your eyes flutter closed as you smile softly, happily, as the two of them hold you between them.

You will this night to last—both your husbands holding you, loving you, making you feel utterly safe and secure—because the thought of coming back home to an empty house tomorrow once they've both gone...

You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut, fighting back tears.

You're grateful they'll have each other, but who will you have to lean on? Who will hold you when you wake up in a cold sweat, crying and trembling as you fear the worst? Who will reassure you, as you sit on the front porch, or by the window, waiting for the post—for any word from them—that everything is okay? That they are?

What will you have left if, when they return home, it's with flags draped over coffins?

"I love you," John whispers, breaking you from fearful thoughts of the absolute worst.

Gale leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "We both do."

You don't see as their eyes meet, John's jaw flexing as he attempts to conserve his tears for when you won't be witness to them and Gale giving him a reassuring nod, telling him that it's okay to feel whatever he's feeling.

"I love you, too. Both of you. Just...come back to me."

"We will," they both reply in unison.

You all three pray for it to be true.

[noiriarti]

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 2

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! TW for mentions of choking and degradation

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 2: An Inescapable Fact

Anakin Skywalker was in love with his best friend. It was an inescapable fact, the same way that the sky was blue, and the Earth was round. Another fact was that he had made out with and practically came on his best friend. He didn't really know what he had been thinking, or if he even had been thinking, but, after he left, all he knew was that he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Maybe he liked it a little too much. When he walked down the front steps of your house with his mom, picked up his bike from your lawn, and dashed up to his room to "finish packing," he not-so-subtly palmed himself, his hand lingering on the front of his jeans, where you were grinding against him minutes (minutes!!!) ago. It took him all of thirty seconds to take care of it, imagining you were still on top of him. As he lay there, panting, his hand covered in cum, he wondered if you were doing the same thing. (You were, of course, but he didn't know that.) He pulled out his phone with his clean hand and typed out a message. Hey. His phone dinged less than a second later. Hey, you had sent back. Now he was left wondering what the fuck a person is supposed to say to their best friend who they're in love with and just "for practice" made out with? 

That was great. No, too eager.

That was hot. No, weirdly horny.

How are you? No, too nonchalant.

I've been in love with you since seventh grade and I can't imagine life without you so please don't stop being my friend and if you want to be more I'd really enjoy that but no worries if you want to stay just friends. Jesus Christ.

We should do that again. Passable. Send. 

And so he waited for you to respond. And waited. And then stood up and cleaned himself up. And packed a bit. Eventually, later in the night, his phone pinged and he dove across the room to check it, but it was a notification from Instagram that one of his teammates had sent him a post. Anakin tossed his phone back on his bed with a little bit more force than necessary, then threw more of his shirts into the open suitcase on the floor. Another hour passed, and there was still radio silence from you. He opened his texts and stared at your exchange for a bit. It was still unread.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line and it obviously is making you uncomfortable. I enjoyed what we did, and I'd like it to continue, if you want. If not, that's chill. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, and how you're feeling, and if you still want me in your life. Please-- he drafted, stopping suddenly when he saw the Read notification pop up. He deleted the entire thing with shaking hands. What were you going to say?

Those three dots in the bubble were literal torture, he decided. Being stretched on the rack was probably easier than this horrible purgatory of not knowing whether the one person in his life who he couldn't exist without wanted to end their friendship.

Agreed, your text read. He immediately typed out a Are you okay?, which you answered with Yeah, you?. He assured you that he was, and you told him you were going to sleep for the night. Anakin finally put his phone down and asked himself what was wrong with him.

He hadn't felt this way around a girl, well, ever. In sophomore year, Padmé approached him and asked him out. He was so thrilled someone showed interest in him that he didn't think too carefully about it, but he caught feelings for her quickly. She was smart, kind, pretty. All the things a girlfriend ought to be. She made signs for his games, and kissed him with a desire he longed for. Everyone knew that she loved him, especially him. That's what made it gut-wrenching, because there was always something he was looking for that he could never find with her. Something he was missing. Little things killed them, like when she bought him cranberries and didn't know that he hated them, or when he realized her parents would never approve of him, no matter how hard he tried. He was always the captain of the soccer team who lived in the not-so-nice part of the town, where there were more cows than people, and she was always the genius debater from a house that had six bathrooms.

The first time he had sex with her, it was all hands and kisses and whispered praise. The second time, when he was less stunned by the newness of everything, he started feeling it. That wrongness. And it just didn't stop. When he said her name, the word felt foreign on his lips, like he wasn't meant to say it. Once, he brought up doing something more intense, like pulling her hair or smacking her ass, and she said she probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd try it anyway. She, in fact, did not enjoy it, and Anakin drove away from her house later that night in his beat-up Toyota feeling like a monster. Everything was just a little off between them. All his fantasies, all his conceptions of how a girlfriend and sex should be were based on how he imagined you would act. He'd know about your sweet tooth and give you the frosting off his cupcake, and you'd give him the pickles off your burger. With Padmé, nothing fit just right, it was a little off. In another world, he thought that he could have choked it down, married her. Had a happy life in a suburb somewhere. She would have loved it.

He found himself responding to her texts slowly, and kept trying to bring himself back to their dates when he zoned out. It didn't work, and, after a teary, bittersweet goodbye eight months after they dated, he was single again. When Padmé got into Harvard in her senior year, his junior year, he congratulated her, and she hugged him, and he knew that they were okay. Maybe he didn't ever really get to know all of Padmé's nooks and crannies because he didn't feel the urge to. With you, it was practically pathological. He hungered for every photo of you, every glance that you threw him. 

Now that he had kissed you, finally giving in to his stupid desires, he knew, with certainty, that this was love. Not a childish crush, not a teenage boy's lust, but love. (And also lust, but that was secondary.) As he fell asleep that night, he decided to tell you that just thinking of you was setting his heart racing now, that he wanted nothing more than to be yours. He'd just do it when he visited you.

When he loaded his whole life (three suitcases, it turned out) into the back of the massive van your parents had rented, he realized you hadn't seen you this morning yet. Your parents were setting up the front, arguing over which highway to take. Why did it matter? There were four hours until the flight. Your parents had pulled out two of your five suitcases, which Anakin dutifully loaded into the back next to his own luggage. You must have packed a whole rack of weights inside them, leaving Anakin sweating after stuffing the trunk.  The pom poms you had made for both of your suitcases (an early going away present, you had said, which made his heart constrict and ache) were laid down like ducks in a row. As your mother emerged with the remaining three suitcases, probably even heavier than the first two, he thanked his lucky stars Coach made them do so much conditioning. That, and the away games gave him practice at waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, a skill that came in useful today.

You weren't a morning person, which he knew, so your absence wasn't a shock, but you coming out of the house looking perfectly awake was. Anakin watched you cast one last look at your house, memorizing its grooves like you didn't already know them by heart, before you turned your gaze to him. Your eyes met, and he instantly looked away. Fuck, you looked pretty this morning. You walked up to him, and he noticed the faintest trace of makeup around your eyes.

"You look nice," he blurted out once you walked up to him. He cursed himself. When had he become so awkward around you?

"Thanks," you said as you smiled back at him. Like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't kissed your neck eight short hours ago. So it probably meant less to you than it did to him. The cool early morning air soothed the sting of that idea. You climbed into the backseat, wedging yourself in between the various backpacks and Anakin's seat. When he buckled himself in, your thighs were pressed together, just like last night. Anakin's hand itched to bring your legs over his, to grab your knee and kiss you again. But he wasn't going to.

The car ride was calming, only an hour to the airport, and you were the only car on the road. In the dark, early morning, you had fallen asleep almost instantly. Your parents had lapsed into silence, and he was supposed to be only torn up about leaving his mom, but he kept getting distracted by the way your head lolled around the headrest. Eventually, your head fell into the space between you, resting at an angle Anakin thought would need a chiropractor to fix. So, he did what any best friend would. He gently guided your head to his shoulder. It must have been more comfortable for you that way, anyway. He couldn't sleep, hyperaware of your every movement like he had never been before. Heart fluttering and hands antsy, Anakin managed to survive the drive. Once you got to the airport, and your parents called your name, you jolted up, and he missed you immediately. If he thought separating before would be hard, he had fucked up last night and made it a thousand times worse. Not that he regretted it, really.

The five of you made it through check-in (another lifting of the bags, which broke him into a sweat he hoped looked rugged and not gross) and security (where every single one of his bags was pulled aside because he was carrying some of his projects, which, okay, did have a lot of wires and chips in them, but he was an engineer, dammit, not a bomber). By the time you had dragged yourselves to the gate, the sun had risen. Your flight was first, straight to LaGuardia, then Anakin and Shmi would get on the plane to Ithaca just an hour later. You still had two hours until the flight, which the two of you spent in McDonalds getting one last Icee (cherry for Anakin, blue raspberry for you), drinking it until Anakin's stomach hurt from the sugar. It was like the previous night never happened, and neither of you mentioned it, dodging the topic and filling every silent moment with some comment about a tourist dropping all their bags or some mom with a child on a leash. When the first boarding call came from your gate, only ten seconds' walk away from your current perch next to some chargers on a wall, he knew your parents would want you back soon. He only had a minute, and you sensed it too. The sun was rising, casting its sleepy shine through the windows of the terminal and lighting up a halo of frizz around your head. You were beautiful, he thought. He pulled you into a crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my best friend. Promise you won't forget me?" You whispered to him while still in his bear hug. The tiny voice you used, the fear that question hid were too much for him. He pulled you in tighter, until he could barely breathe. 

"I could never. I'll be your best friend forever," he affirmed. Because that's what you were, above all else. Friends. Anakin had to preserve that, and he wavered on the decision to tell you about his feelings. Your friendship came first. When he walked you back to your gate, the last he saw of you was when you turned back to look at him right before walking through the gangway to your plane. It reminded him of the way you looked at your house before you left, a gesture of love and loyalty. Then you were gone, and he missed you instantly.

Another hour in the airport was dreadfully boring without you, it turned out, and the five hour plane ride was even worse. By the time they landed, Anakin was practically ready to jump out of the emergency exit, just for the entertainment of it. Everything he did was tinged with the slightest bit of disinterest. The book he packed, The Art of Electronics, proved to be dreadfully dull, and his phone was similar. There was only one person he wanted to hear from.

When they landed in Ithaca's airport, Anakin and Shmi loaded into a taxi and drove off to his dorm, which was comfortingly close. Just a hop away, then he could be home. The room itself, when entered, smelled damp and stale but at least looked clean. He and Ben, his slightly older roommate who played professionally in leagues in the UK before coming to college, got on like fire and tall grass, and Shmi practically had to keep reminding them that they, indeed, needed to unpack. 

Around five, he shot you a text.

Anakin: How's your room?

You: Nice, big! Here's a pic

You sent a picture

You: I finally met Ahsoka IRL, and she's just as nice as I thought she'd be!

You: I really like hanging out with her and her girlfriend Barriss

You: What about you?

Anakin: It's good, me and Ben, who's also on the soccer team

Anakin: lmfao that looks tiny

Anakin: We have a common room

Anakin: Feast your eyes

Anakin sent a picture

You: Jesus how have you managed to make it gross already

Anakin: It's not gross

Anakin: The Nicki Minaj American flag is camp

Anakin: And we only need two chairs for the TV

You: Two folding chairs in the middle of the room and nothing else on the walls is unhinged

Anakin: Unfriended

He smiled and set his phone down. Things were back to normal. Now, all he had to do to finish move-in was get thoroughly drunk with his new teammates.

You kept in contact with one another, sending cute squirrels (Anakin) and rats (you) that crossed your paths, or updating each other on your classes. Two weeks in the semester, Anakin finally felt brave enough to ask you. He was sitting on his newly-acquired couch, which you had bullied him into buying off of Facebook Marketplace. It was dingy, and had several stains that made him wonder if it was a crime scene, but it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

Anakin: Hey, can I come over this weekend?

You: Please. I'm going crazy here without you.

Anakin: Can I crash on your floor then?

You: I mean, if you're coming, we could practice a bit more, so you wouldn't have to use the floor

Anakin: That sounds amazing. What do you want to do?

You: I don't know. What do you want to do?

Anakin: I asked first

You: lol idk. It's just weird to talk about this with you

You: Not that I don't enjoy it, or want it. Just still feels weird.

Anakin: I get that, for me too.

You: I don't know if I'm ready to be idk, naked? I guess?

You: But I want to do more

You: I think I want to try giving head

Anakin: You don't have to do anything you don't want to

Anakin: I'd enjoy that a lot

You: g2g to class ttyl

Ben wasn't home, thank God, or else he could have walked in on Anakin stroking himself in the living room like a pervert. The image of your lips around him was too much to resist, even for the second it took him to get up and walk to his room. While fucking his fist, the fantasy escalated. Him fucking your throat harshly, feeling you gag on it. Him using your hair to drag your mouth up and down his cock while your hands were tied behind you. Once he came, he started feeling guilty about imagining you in such a rough situation. Anakin had no idea if you even wanted that, and he vowed to let you take the lead as much as possible. He also felt guilty about leaving another teeny tiny stain on the already suspicious couch when some cum dribbled down his hand, but it kind of blended in.

On Tuesday, he left his electrical engineering course when he got a text that stopped him in the middle of the hall.

You: Hey

You: So I am going to a sex store for the first time today

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: Wow ok exploring nyc

You: Should I get anything for this weekend?

Anakin: Idk, up to you

Anakin: Just choose whatever you want to try

You: ok i will pull up with a massive horse dildo for u then king

You: But seriously, I want to make it enjoyable for you too.

You: Do you have any requests for like outfits or something?

Anakin: fuck all the way off

Anakin: What? Like, shirts?

You: No

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Whatever makes you feel good

You: But cmon you've got to have a pereference

You: *preference

Anakin: pereference

Anakin: I don't have a pereference

Anakin: You could say I don't perefer anything

You: Fuck off

You: Answer the question motherfucker

Anakin: Idk maybe black lace? Whatever makes you happy

Anakin: I've always wanted to rip fishnets, if that's something you want

You: Sounds like a plan

He liked the message and slipped his phone in his pocket as he bounced over to the student lab, ready to finish the Arduino gadget he was making for class. You in a lacy set sounded like a dream come true, mainly because he was almost certain he had that exact wet dream last year.

The four ensuing days allowed Anakin to think, for once, which was never a good idea. It grew new doubts to stress over. Had he accidentally pushed the idea of fishnets on you? What if you weren't into the stuff he was into, or if you decided you weren't into him enough to be able to do anything further with him, now that the horny initial haze had dwindled? He was considering this again while on the train, watching the upstate countryside roll by. Sometimes it was close enough to Minnesota that he felt like he was home, so he shot his mom a text saying he missed her, and that he'd call her tomorrow. He also had two unread texts from you.

You: Hey!! When you arrive just text me and I'll grab you

You: I'm excited to see you

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: I'm excited to see you too

Anakin: Lots of stories to share

Before he could think better of it, he typed out something he hoped would dull the constant questioning in his mind.

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Also

Anakin: I feel kinda bad for bringing up something only I'm interested in the last time we talked about me coming over

Anakin: This should be about you

You: Takes two to tango, as they say

Anakin: Never say that again

You: I will say it again

Anakin: Shut up I'm trying to be serious

You: I'm saying that I'm interested in that sort of stuff

You: When I was at the store there were a bunch of things I wanted to try

You: Like wax and ropes

Anakin: Kinky

And, now, the question he had been nervous to ask, or even to think about. 

Anakin: Do you want to try them on me, or for me to try them on you?

You: Definitely you doing that to me

You: I've been doing research

You: There's a lot of stuff I want to try, if you want to practice with me

Anakin: Fuck that sounds fun

Anakin: Like what?

Was he letting his cards show too much? Maybe. It just felt too good not to ask.

You: Degradation, overstim, just idk. Rough in general

You: Down the road maybe rope

Anakin: Damn ok 50 shades of grey

Anakin: You have been doing your research

Anakin: That all sounds good to me, as long as it's good for you

Anakin: I can't wait to get there

The rush of excitement he felt at the idea of tying you up and fucking you until you screamed drowned out the notes he was meant to be reviewing in front of him, and the circuit diagram he was supposed to draw. 

He thought of you splayed out in front of him, covering those slutty lace panties in your juice until it soaked through the other side. He thought about his hand on your neck as you begged him to cum. And--fuck--you gagging on your knees as he thrust into your throat. He was hard--again.

But he had to remember what he was coming here to do, really. To tell you how he felt. He pulled out the piece of paper he had spent the past two weeks writing and rewriting in his mind as he did dribbling drills and soldered wires. There were four drafts in his desk, written out and crumpled into the back of the drawers, because he knew that one look at you in your room, giving him those desperate eyes, would wipe him blank of anything except how much he wanted you. After how platonic you were at the airport, he wasn't sure if he should say anything, because the distance over the next four years would make it so hard to be together, and you hadn't ever talked about long distance. Now, he looked at the paper and didn't know what to think. Did he really want to say words as big as "I love you" so quickly, so soon? The doubt plagued him as he looked over the final version of the letter, which was suddenly sappy and childish.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me *me*. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved--

He looked away. Why was he using the word love? He didn't know if you two would even work romantically. What if you went on a date and it felt just like your regular dynamic? What if he was a bad boyfriend, like he was to Padmé, and you didn't want him anymore? Was he about to throw years of your trust away?

He wasn't sure whether to tell you, at all. Anakin just wanted to know if you felt the same way about him, or else he'd lose more than just his pride. He had to give it more time. And, until then, this was all practice anyway. (He was really, really good at lying to himself.) He folded the paper precisely, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case.

The train slowed with a screeching that rung his ears and arrived at Grand Central. From the moment he left the train, the station was packed with people. Everything was buzzing, from the voices shouting over each other to the side of his arm where someone smacked into him. The air was stale and warm from the bodies, which moved in completely unpredictable patterns through the vast space. If he was this overwhelmed, how were you faring in the city? He made his way to the subway station just a few blocks across midtown, then got on the 1, which was surprisingly clean based on everything he had heard about New York. Anakin half expected to be pickpocketed and to see rats on the trains, but the plastic yellow and red seats playfully shined at him, clean and inviting.

Before long, he found himself on Columbia's campus at sunset, walking through the buildings which all looked a little bit too similar to find your dorm. Carman Hall, there it was. Anakin texted you that he was outside and steadied his nerves. He would finally get to see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again, a part of his brain that he dutifully shoved into a dark corner said.

Three minutes passed--he was looking at his phone clock for every one of the--and then the entrance clicked open. There you were. You looked amazing, and city life clearly agreed with you. You were wearing a simple denim skirt and green shirt, but you looked incredible. You had added a few ear cuffs, glinting in the dwindling sunlight, which cast your skin in a warm glow.

"Hey," he said into your temple as he crushed you back, "You look--wow." He pulled away and grabbed your shoulders, examining if you were still the person he knew. You were, he determined when you beamed at him. Your hand was still the same as he remembered when you flashed an ID badge, featuring a photo he had taken against a wall in your house, at the bored-looking security guard, who just waved you two by.

Anakin had just started telling you about how one of the midfielders, Rex, kicked the ball directly in the coach's crotch, when the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and he followed you down a winding hallway full of nameplates, whiteboards, and decorations. One room had construction paper black cats and pumpkins all over the door, which made him stop and smile. You stopped in front of a door that had fake leaves stuck to it, making it look like a tree was dropping paper leaves onto the floor. You unlocked the door, which groaned as it opened to show exactly the room you had sent him photos of, but with significantly more clutter on your desk.

"Welcome! This is my humble abode!" On the other side of the room, the girl sitting on her bed, cast him a withering glance. She had wide, doe-like eyes that he was sure probably hid a lot of mischief. Her hair was styled in twists she had gathered into pigtails that tumbled over her shoulders, with a string of beads woven into the crown of her head.

"This must be Jake," the woman he presumed to be Ahsoka said, scrutinizing him with her piercing eyes. Jake? Who the fuck is Jake? Anakin wondered as he tried to read your reaction. You spluttered, obviously not ready to have that piece of information revealed yet.

"No, no, this is Anakin! From home!" You put on a strained smile in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"So, you're not dating?" Ahsoka quirked up one eyebrow, not buying for one second that whatever she was seeing in front of her was platonic.

"No, not at all. I could never date him, he's my best friend!" You said too loudly, forcing the words out. Perfect. Just perfect. That solidified his decision. If you were friendzoning him this hard, and you were obviously trying to practice for this Jake guy's sake, then there wasn't any point in what he was going to say. The paper in his pocket was so easy to crush under his fingers, he almost wished he had done it sooner. It was stupid, anyway. This wasn't anything more than two people exploring new things. His feelings would pass, eventually.

Ahsoka shrugged and hugged you goodbye after she slipped off the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. She left, presumably for Barriss's room, and closed the door behind her.

In the silence left in the room, the words were on the tip of his tongue. Who's Jake?, he would ask nonchalantly. Like it didn't matter. Anakin stopped himself. It wouldn't do him any good to know more. Instead, he kept recounting the story of Rex making the whole team run sprints for the day with his crazy aim, albeit with less enthusiasm. In return, you told him about the suck-up in your Intro to Psychology course, who gushed to the professor that he loved his work and was his biggest fan. It was literally a 101 class, what was he trying to prove?

Anakin's pack lay forgotten by the door as you two recounted your weeks to one another, and for a moment it didn't feel like a new city, it just felt like home. He didn't even realize that it was night until you pointed it out, mentioning that you missed the stars that you could see from your yard. And the fireflies. But the city lights twinkled nicely enough that he couldn't see  a difference. You lapsed into silence, watching students walk out onto the street as stores pulled down their shutter doors. The bed was to your left as you stood watching the window, and your eyes glanced to it. 

"So, um. Want to watch some Netflix?" You said in your best approximation of a sexy voice, turning to your right and looking up at him in a way that you hoped was seductive. Anakin looked at your face and burst out laughing.

"If you want to do stuff, just ask!" He raised the pitch of his voice, imitating yours as he bit his lip fake-sexily. "Netflix and chill?" You grabbed one of the copious pillows on your bed and hit him with it. He caught it immediately and lobbed it back at your head, but you ducked at the last possible moment, so it hit the bed with a thump.

"Missed!" You giggled. That sweet laughter would be the death of him. When you caught your breath, the sweet smile he had stole your breath. 

"Um, do you want to... practice?" You asked. In truth, you wanted him, badly. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, which he immediately noticed and took as his cue to use the last of his willpower to make sure you were okay with this before kissing you silly, and hopefully doing more. Much more. He stepped closer to you, drawing you in with his arms around your waist.

"Just so that I'm perfectly clear. You don't have to do anything that makes you feel the slightest bit weird. We don't have to do anything now, at all. Or ever, if that's what you want," he said huskily.

"No, I do want this," you whispered, nodding and leaning in so that you were nearly touching noses, "I want you down my throat." Fuck. There went his self-control. He crushed his lips into yours, the softness of the previous time eclipsed by the need in both of you that had been building in between texts for the weeks you had been apart.

No. You had to talk this through. He had to know that you understood what you were getting into. Anakin pulled away, even though it killed him.

"We should talk more. No touching until we're done talking," he said, holding his hands up to prove that he was serious.

"Fine. But you're going to break first. I'd bet anything." You also held your hands up, defiant as ever. He was seized with the urge to make you obey him, and quieted it down as much as he could.

"Fine. I'll take that deal. Just, let's talk first. You said that you wanted to try rougher stuff, and I don't want to do that before I'm certain I don't cross a boundary," he said. He thought of himself last year, the guilt over Padmé.

"What boundaries could you possibly cross? I'm asking you to be rough." Anakin was still worried.

"Yes, but it's your first time giving head. I don't want to make it uncomfortable. Or, if I cross a line and can't tell... I just want to keep you safe. How about you tap me twice for good to go, three times for slow down, and four times for stop?" You nodded, giving him those same big eyes that made him want to absolutely ravish you. The time between you stretched, turning pliant and gooey as he searched your eyes for uncertainty. "Show me," he purred. He had poured some of the commanding tone into it that he wanted so desperately to use. You obediently tapped out the sequence on his arm, and he tossed you a smirk. 

"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said, enjoying the way you were about to fight him on it, "And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." And you did.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: Oh we are getting raunchy in the next chapter buddies!!!

Tag List (message me or reply if you'd like to be added!): @akixxrafiiy

[houseofripley]

HEYY

Can you do a rhea x fem!reader story where rhea and reader are in Highschool and have both had feeling for eachother for the longest time and both haven’t confessed but all that changes because rhea ask reader to prom and they end up kissing and it leads to something else (ifykyk😏) (smut n a lil bit of fluff too🙏)

Starry Prom Night

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Praise, Cheek Cupping & Kissing Galore, INSANE PLOT BUILDING FOR NO REASON LOL SORRYYYYYY IM A YEARNER (im serious this is like 67% plot building)

WORD COUNT: 3,731

A/N: this is just pure sapphic yearning on my end LMAO anyways anon i had so much fun writing this even though its all over the place!!!

also can you tell where i got impatient with all the plot building lol

“Rhea, I seriously don’t know how many more of these cheesy signs I can’t take. I think I’m gonna go insane.” You grunted, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. 

Prom season was in full swing. It was third period and you had just witnessed what had to have been the seventh promposal of the day. This year would be the mark of your and your best friend, Rhea’s senior prom. Senior prom was a date thousands of dreamed about, wanting to show up and show out one last time before waving goodbye to their highschool years. 

Every girl except you and Rhea. You both despised the thought of prom. Why would any sane person spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit just to spend their night drenched in sweat in the school gymnasium? 

Fuck that!

“Romeo O Romeo! Will thou spend your Saturday night with I, drinking punch next to the locker rooms?” Rhea mocked, elbowing your arm. 

You shook your head, pressing your lips together trying to keep your laughter silent. The commotion of classmates was soon drowned out by thoughts as your eyes met Rhea’s, causing your tightened lips to curl into a small smile.

Rhea’s blue eyes never failed to warm you. Everytime you gazed into those beachy eyes you were brought back to the day you first met the girl. Seventh grade, first period, language arts. A quiet blonde girl sporting a Pierce The Veil shirt was assigned to sit next to you. Nobody knew anything about the girl besides the fact she had just moved basically across the globe. You spent the entire period thinking of what you could possibly say to her, because what do you even say to a kid that was just relocated from South Australia all the way to some shitty suburban town? 

“Cool shirt.” 

And it fucking worked somehow. You were immediately attached to her hip. The two of you grew closer with each day that passed. You were inseparable. She was everything to you. Sleepovers every weekend. ‘Study’ sessions that were spent play fighting with each other. Singing pop-punk songs at the top of your lungs till your throats were raw. Dying your hair the same shade of blue at three in the morning. She was even at your side while your parents scolded you the morning after for said blue hair. 

Jesus Christ. Lost in her eyes again? Snap out of it already! 

“Yo, Alice in Wonderland, you okay?” Rhea playfully questioned, breaking your trance by poking at your thigh.

“Just…thinking. That’s all.” You softly chuckled. You were telling the truth, you were just thinking. Just thinking about her. Thinking about her touch, her hands, her pierced nose, her lips, her stupid cool shirts. 

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Jesus, someone’s eager to get out of here.” You laughed, trailing behind Rhea who was booking it over to her small black Lexus.

“Dude, can you blame me? It’s like everyone has some sort of prom fever. I am not letting it catch me.” Rhea complained, ducking into the vehicle. 

You made your way to the passenger side of the car before hopping into the seat next to Rhea. “I counted eighteen of those damn signs today.” You babbled, resting your arm on the center console before trailing on, diffusing the topic, “Anyways, let’s go thrifting or something. I don’t wanna go home.”

Rhea shrugged in agreeance before pulling out of her parking spot. She knew things were tough for you at home. You had recently come out as lesbian to your parents. They weren't unsupportive but they weren't exactly supportive at the same time which had built quite a bit of tension in the household. You came out to Rhea just about two years ago, who was more than supportive. She was your number one defender, always there to threaten whichever classmate that dared to ridicule you.

You knew absolutely nothing about Rhea’s sexuality. Hell, even Rhea knew nothing about her sexuality. She only knew one thing, that she liked you. She didn’t even know when she caught feelings for you, it was like the sentiments were there since the moment you first spoke to her. She hoped as time went on the flutters she’d feel for you would pass on but recently she couldn’t seem to even push the mere thought of you out of her head, it was killing her.

The drive to the nearest thrift shop was comfortably silent…silent if you ignored the Black Veil Brides cd Rhea had blaring…

Entering the store the pair of you let out scoffed laughs as the first thing catching your attention was a large display of second hand dresses. Shaking it out of your heads and ignoring it at first you carried on to wander the isles, grabbing whatever caught your eye to try on later although you’d inevitably end back up to the racks of long dresses. You weren't a big fan of dresses but you wanted to waste as much time as you possibly could, so you decided to browse the gowns with Rhea. 

She pulled a deep maroon dress, the form fitting glittered bodice was paired with a looser, more freeing skirt. “Try it on!” Rhea pushed, shoving the dress into your arms.

“I’d look so stupid in this.” You gave Rhea a bewildered look.

“Oh c’mon just try it!”

“Rhe’ when have you ever given a shit about this stuff?”

“Dude you’re the one that wanted to waste time here…” Rhea playfully scorned, diverting your question.

“Urgh, I hate when you’re right.” You huffed, shuffling towards the dressing room. 

“How ridiculous do I look?” You pouted, opening the door of the changing room before shuffling to the closest mirror.

Rhea stood behind you, peering over your shoulder as you silently studied yourself in the mirror. You looked at Rhea through the mirror as she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself in her tracks. “I mean it’s cute but where in the world would I wear this?” You shrugged, adjusting the straps as Rhea chewed on her cheeks.

“Wear it to prom.” Rhea timidly broke her silence.

“Why would I go to prom, Rhe’? First of all it would be so lame and second of all I’d have nobody to go with. I’m just gonna put this back.” You mumbled, turning to make your way back into the changing room.

 A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Go with me…” Rhea blurted out, sounding scared of her own words. Her statement caused you to turn to face her with a puzzled expression, Rhea herself even looked surprised at what she just said. Fearing your rejection she quickly added on, “Ya know, like as a joke and stuff. We can make it not lame…”

“As a joke?” Your heart that was skipping beats just seconds ago was immediately let down. 

“Yeah. It’s just a stupid idea we don’t hav-”

“No, let's go…as a joke.” You interrupted Rhea’s nervous deflection. “We’ve got nothing better to do.” You shrugged on watching Rhea’s anxieties fade into the distance as her classic cheeky smile crept upon her face.

After you swapped out of your dress you returned to Rhea who was holding up a silky black dress with a deep slit in the skirt. “This’ll work. I’m too lazy to try anything on.” She chuckled while shrugging.

“That's ballsy Rhe-Rhe.”

══════⋆☆⋆══════

Tonight was the night, you were sat atop Rhea’s bathroom counter, finishing up your makeup while Rhea was shuffling around her closet searching for a pair of shoes. It had been four weeks since Rhea ‘asked’ you to prom and you simply couldn’t keep your mind off it. Although you two planned this whole thing as a joke, something shifted ever so slightly between the two of you, maybe it wasn’t a joke, who knows. Rhea had your heart in your throat at every moment and you were the topic of every thought that popped into Rhea’s head. More than ever the both of you were head over heels for each other, just terrified the other wouldn’t reciprocate those shared feelings.

Your parents were completely unaware you’d be attending prom. You had informed them you were staying with a friend before immediately storming off to Rhea’s house. Rhea’s parents hadn’t a clue either, they were under the impression tonight would be just another night of the two of you doing nothing for hours then sneaking out to go for a drive at three in the morning. There truly wasn’t much reasoning behind this secret, you guys just wanted to have this night for yourselves without pestering parents. 

“Urgh! At this point I’m gonna go barefoot!” You could hear yet another pair of shoes be tossed to the floor. You slid off Rhea’s counter, stepped out of her bathroom and over to her closet. She was already in her dress tearing through a pile of shoes on the floor. “What has gotten into you Rhe’?” You leaned against the doorframe laughing at the fact that Rhea of all people was stressing over shoes. 

 Rhea rolled her eyes ignoring your banter. “Would it make me a hipster if I wore converse?”

“Oh absolutely, I dare you!” 

“You know I will,” Rhea retorted, picking up a black pair of the canvas shoes.

You chuckled before turning to return to the bathroom, letting Rhea know you were gonna change. You got into your dress with ease up until you came to the zipper on the back. You groaned in annoyance, reaching behind to your back attempting to wiggle the zipper to no avail.

“Rhe’, can you help me real quick?” You asked while popping your head out the door.

“Hm? What’s up?” Rhea turned around and questioned before making her way up to you, trying to keep her gaze from falling down to the hand placed on your chest, keeping the dress from completely slipping from your body.

“Zippers stuck,” You pouted, turning around. Rhea’s hand swept across the base of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side. You watched her through the mirror as she began fumbling with the metal, ultimately getting it to slide up your back.

After an awkward exchange of bashful looks the two of you finished getting ready in each other's company. You sat next to Rhea slipping into your shoes while she tied off her converse, took a handful of polaroid pictures together, then eventually snuck out Rhea’s window to begin your hike to the school.

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Ouu! Ripley’s got a date!” Was whistled out by a classmate as you and Rhea made your way down the congested hallway, making Rhes roll her eyes.

“Shut up dickhead! We’re here as a joke.” Rhea rebutted, flipping the guy off as she carried on down the hall. 

Here as a joke but her flushed cheeks and sweaty hand gripping yours told a slightly different story.

“Dickheads always running their mo-” Rhea muttered, stepping into the crowded gymnasium.

“Shh. It’s fine, you shouldn’t worry about them.” You cut off Rhea, giving her hand a squeeze as you examined the starry night themed room. The area was dimly lit by blue leds and strings of fairy lights. Blue curtains decorated with paper stars draped over the majority of the walls while an array of tables adorned with bottles of fairy lights surrounded a dance floor full of teenagers.

You both seated yourselves near the stage where a live band was playing. Your legs pressed against one another as you fell into an array of conversations. Thirty minutes had managed to sneak by before your meaningless conversation was cut short by your biology teacher.

“You girls gonna sit here and chat all night? Go dance!” 

“But dancing is lame, Mr. Brown.” Rhea groaned while you both turned to face the man.

“I promise you that in ten years you’ll regret not doing anything at your senior prom. Seriously, go dance!” Your teacher stood behind you giving his words of advice. Rhea peeked over to you looking for your opinion. You gave her a ‘why not’ shrug before rising from your seat.

“But I don't even know how to slow dance.” Rhea whined to herself under her breath as she stood up. “If we have to dance, we’re dancing in the corner cause I’m gonna look stupid.” She stipulated.

You guided Rhea over to a secluded section of the dance floor near a wall, reassuring her that you also had no clue on what you were doing. 

“We’ll just do what everyone else is doing, Rhe’.” 

“I think this right,” Rhea unassuredly giggled with a racing heart, taking a hold of your left hand while wrapping her free hand around your waist. You shook your hair to cover your flushing cheeks as you brought your right hand to rest on her shoulder. The pair of you began swaying to the music while trying to hold back laughter, both in slight disbelief at your current situation. Prom was the last place either of you ever expected to be attending.

You were already trailing back into the pit of those sapphire eyes, drowning out all external noise you missed Rhea humming about how beautiful you looked. You were too occupied taking in the essence of your childlike crush to take notice of the grip Rhea had on your waist tightening. You were fully prepared to stare into those eyes all night, but Rhea was eager to run a risk.

A set of warm lips fell onto you abruptly, pulling you by the waist into a desperate kiss. All five senses rushed over your body, sending a rush of adrenaline through your bloodstream, placing you in awe too shocked to move.

Rhea forced herself to pull away, letting a sigh of relief out before the panic settled in, “Shit. I, god I’m so-”

Your thoughts had just now grasped what just happened.

This was a kiss that spent years in the making…you were not just gonna let it end like that.

Your hand slipped to the back of Rhea’s head, pushing Rhea back into the kiss, forcibly putting an end to her apology. She immediately fell back into your lips, closing her dilated eyes. While her tongue slid across your bottom lip begging to deepen the kiss, her hands slid up to cup your cheeks. Time slid away as the two of you fell into each other in your isolated corner of the gymnasium.

Rhea pulled herself from your lips breathless, her parted lips forming an open smile. She wanted more. You attempted to collect your thoughts while catching your breath. Both of you were attempting to draft a response while gazing into each other, because what do you say after tasting your best friend of five years?

“Cool.” You nodded

Rhea shook her head scoffing out a laugh, still making an attempt to regulate her breath. She took grip of your hand, giving it a squeeze before beginning to pull you into the hall without speaking a word.

“Wher-”

“Just follow me!” Rhea cut you off, rushing through the halls as she dragged you behind herself, both of you trying not to stumble over your dresses. 

She halted in front of the nurses office before fiddling with the keypad on the door, “God bless modern technology,” She muttered, managing to get the door open as you watched in disbelief. “Don’t even ask.” She chuckled, scanning the hall to make sure you were in the clear before tugging you into the room.

Once Rhea’s foot forced the door shut her lips directly got to work pinning themselves to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin. 

“Shit Rhe’, there might be cameras.” You pushed through a stunned whine. 

“There's none…” Rhea couldn't even pull her lips away from your skin as she spoke, “Wouldn't stop me either way, I’ve waited too long for this.” She grunted, dragging her kisses to your collarbone. “Now please tell me I can keep going.”

“I don’t think I could ever tell you to stop.” You pulled Rhea’s face to meet your eyes, whispering your confession. There was no need for Rhea to open her mouth, the look on her face alone told you that was exactly what she needed to hear.

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.” Rhea growled, grasping your cheeks as she pulled you over to the nurses twin sized treatment bed. 

She brought her legs to straddle over you, lowering her chest to hover over you. Rhea was attached to you like a dog, her lips were sloppy against yours as her hands snuck to pull up the skirt of your dress. 

Rhea brought herself between your legs, in a rush to finally get a taste of your core.

“Please…I’m begging you, please don't make me wait more than I already have.” Rhea looked up at you pleading.

Your heart was in your throat as you fervently nodded. “I wanna hear your voice,” Rhea begged, whispering out your name.

“Rhea, please just do anything, I need, I need you.”

With that said she hurriedly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. Rhea was making it clear that tonight was her time to shine.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” Rhea murmured, awed at the sight of your soaked cunt. Her arms tangled themselves around your legs. After years her tongue finally made contact with your delicacy, she preached a string of curses, finally getting what she was after. You propped yourself on your elbows to catch the sight of Rhea exploring your brand new world. You could feel a smirk between your legs as her eyes met yours, thirstily watching you watch.

“Tastes so good.” Rhea praised, sweeping her tongue through your folds before bringing herself to round your clit. You chewed on your cheeks to hush the moans escaping your throat as Rhea wrapped her lips around your sensitivity, allowing her to lightly suck at your skin. Your legs made an unsuccessful attempt at wrapping around Rhea’s head only to be overtaken by her hands, prying them open, giving her full access to devour your aching heat. 

The stealthy addition of two fingers into your emptiness was only amplifying the wobbly knees her mouth alone had created. Her fingers began steadily massaging into you, causing an arch to form over your back. The mixture of Rhea’s roaming tongue and grinding digits already had a knot forming in your stomach.

“Fucking Christ Rhe’, where the fuck did you learn all this.” You struggled out through moans. Rhea let out a soft chuckle as she continued to take your clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue piercing over your sensitivity.

Rhea gave your cunt one last kiss before she brought herself to face you. Now that Rhea had finally gotten a taste of your mouth she couldn't get enough, she had to return for more. Your lips once again blended together, your moans now slipping into Rhea’s mouth as her fingers curled inside your core. 

“God, you sound so beautiful.” Rhea admired, pressing her warmed forehead against yours while her digits continued toying with your clenching walls. Her thumb was soon added to the mixture of pleasure as it rubbed rhythmic circles over your bud. 

“Rhe’, I want to feel you against me,” You opened your eyes, pulling from her kiss while your hips rolled against her working digits. “Please.”

Rhea nodded, her eyes full of adoration, she’d do whatever it took to please you no matter if it took minutes or hours. She let her fingers come to a declined pace before withdrawing from your warmth. She stood up, licking her fingers clean before riding her dress up her legs and dropping her panties. She rushed to return to the bed pulling your leg into the air before propping a leg of hers next to your hip.

Rhea settled her heat against yours, letting out a heavy breath. She gradually started rocking her hips against you, mixing your slick together. You watched as the new sensation of pleasure washed over her, causing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to roll to the back of her head. 

“Just…just like that.” You whimpered as you began to grind your hips at a matching pace, chasing towards your climax. Rhea’s arm clung to your leg that was situated in the air for support as the sound of quiet moans and the rustling of dress fabric bounced around the room. 

“Feels so good, fuck.” Rhea quickened her motions, moaning out the nickname she created for you through heavy breaths.Rhea pushed herself further against you chasing her own high as you squirmed beneath her grinds. 

“Rhe’, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, reaching for a hand to cling to. Her hand met you halfway, instantly taking you into her grip she pulled you up to meet her face. She was back to those oh-so passionate kisses she could now never get enough of. “Please, Rhe’!” You cried against her, her movements bucking against your cunt.

Rhea nodded into your kiss signaling for your release, her own climax just seconds away. Your series of moans brushed against Rhea’s lips as your orgasm washed over you, hers quickly following. Muffled whines echoed around the room as Rhea’s thrusts against you faltered.

After riding out your highs together, Rhea squeezed herself next to you on the tiny bed and rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “I swear to god if you say cool.” Rhea looked over at you giggling. 

“Unfair!” You joked, resting your head against Rhea’s chest. You both fell into silence simply taking in the moment, reflecting on everything that had just happened. Rhea peppered small kisses to the top of your head as you toyed with the fabric of her dress.

“We should probably get outta here before somebody finds us.” Rhea suggested, breaking the silence.

“Wanna go dance again?” You teased as you turned to face her.

Rhea quickly shook her head, “I’m never gonna dance again. I was so bad.” She laughed, “How about we go find a parking lot and makeout under the stars, hm?”

“I seriously would have never expected you to be all smoochy, Rhe’.”

“Look, I have like five years of kisses to make up for!”

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #9

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Happy birthday! a late one at that... Warnings: Angst, fluff, bickering.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz

Three months passed, no one except Lucifer, Alastor and Charlie became nervous as time went by. Charlie didn't know what else to do about the contract, it protected you from killing yourself during its validity period, but after that she couldn't do anything to avoid it.

"Charlie, can I ask you a question?" She walked over to the stove, accompanying as you finished checking the meat in the pan. “If…if I happened to make it out alive, but your father were the reason for that, or Alastor, how would you feel about it?” Charlie choked on her water, to put it in a nice way.

“You’re asking me permission to go out with my dad?” she laughed, “Depending how okay are you with it” she snickered, “I mean, it would be weird” she started “We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t think I can see you as a step mom” he gave you a playful nudge on your shoulder.

“I don’t plan to play mom with you, I’ve already done it for eight years” you pointed to her bandaged finger you had fixed a few moments before.

“Do you like my dad?” what an interesting question, his advances did in fact made you look forward to spend more time with him, “I’m starting to get fond of him, I want to know if I should push the halt now before it’s too late”.

“And hurt him more than my mom already did? No” she made a pensative face, while the question brew in your stomach, “What if she comes back?” Charlie’s eyes shifted, “I won’t have her back” as a former mother that stung in sympathy for her, as little as that was, “That is what you say now, but I know you, that attitude won’t be there if she stands in front of you” sad but true, you knew her.

“Going back to my father, he’s old enough to decide who he wants to date” you let out a breathy laugh, “I wasn’t asking your permission, I wanted to know how you felt about it, I won’t have my wings broken by you again anyway” she nudged you again.

“If there’s anyone I would know my father would be happy with, you wouldn’t make the first of my list, but you´re there” you made as if there was something piercing your heart, with a stabbing motion of your hand in your chest, “Cold as fuck”.

“You wanted my opinion” she defended herself, “I didn’t say it wasn’t appreciated” you gave her a bite of a stir-fried red pepper, “Y/n, I love you, as friends or an aunt, but I will end what I started when you betrayed me if you hurt him” her horns peeked out of her head, low blow reminding you of how the battle became to be.

“Charlotte, even if he didn’t liked me, I’m ready to fight Jesus fucking Christ for you and this hotel” ‘you and him and Alastor more than anything’ you thought, “Don’t underestimate the growth I had this eight years”.

You plated a portion of the meat, stir-fried veggies and mush potatoes, “You and your dad have the same eating issue, so I’m getting up his dinner after plating for you and the rest” you said as you prepped the plates on a line, “Fun to know the only few things I have in common with my dad are issues” her sarcasm drew a smile on your face.

Her mean/sassy attitude was refreshing after a lot of her sunshine bullshit.

“Also your eyes, the way you hide your feelings from others, your cheeks, that lovely angelic happiness, the way you smile, your theatrics, the list is infinite” you winked at her, “You are his spitting image, the only thing you have from your mother is your hair, the height, and her temper” she groaned a little, “I got my singing from her”.

You hummed a no, “Ezekiel 28:12-13 say how beautiful lucifer was. God created him to be perfect in wisdom and beauty, a spectacle of flawlessness and gave him special capabilities in music and voice, the bible doesn’t lie” she looked at you in awe, “What? He’s proof of everything the darn book says” another blink.

You weren’t a believer until you saw Adam for the first time.

After bidding everyone a good night, you made your way to his room, tray in hand. Charlie warned you to be careful, she had heard some breaking sounds coming from his chambers, she was far too scared of his rage to interfere. Talking of her inner child saying be cautious to her.

"Your highness? You didn't attended dinner, so I brought it to you" you opened the door, the sight unnerved you.

There were rubber ducks that were burned, had their throats cut, were torn to pieces, or even turned to dust. The painting of his wife had claw marks on her face, there were feathers on the ground, his, and other smaller ones that didn't match his colors.

"I'm not hungry" your eyes caught sight of him, sat on the ‘your side of the bed’ facing the window. The light was not working, with the dim light of the city emanating from the window you could see his tattered hair and his wrinkled suit, also a few small drops of shiny golden blood on his arm.

"You have to eat, even if you’re not hungry, Charlie mentioned you didn’t ate much at lunch either” You didn't eat with the rest of the group, for the simple fact that due to your new anatomy you had to eat at least three dishes to be satisfied, and it made you a little embarrassed.

"Say my name" he whispered, his voice low and deeper than his usual, "Excuse me?" you pushed a few things off a table near you to set the tray down.

"It's always my lord or your highness, never my name, say it" his red stare chilled your blood, "Why is it so important?" you swallowed a huge lump to say that, "Then I'm not eating until you say it" he crossed his arms.

"You're being a child” in a matter of second he was inches away from your face, “And you secretive, since when? Have I gave you a reason to not say things to me?" his distorted voice thundered, flinching was so hard to avoid, "No" you bite your own tongue, "Then please, address me by my name" a few flames came out of his mouth.

"I don't negotiate with children throwing a tantrum" you walked around him, trying your best to shake off the sight of his angry face, printed in your mind.

"Why is it so hard to say?" He muttered, "And it's not a tantrum" you chuckled, "Sure it is" you accidentally stepped on a head of a former duck.

"You've still haven't answered, why is it so hard for you to say my name" you didn't had time to answer when his wings carried him to you again,  "Do you fear me?" Your visible flinching giving his demonic form made his eyes widen, immediately shifting back to his simple self.

"You do fear me, wow, I don't... this is new" he plopped against the bed, feeling sad and heavy. "You know? After being almost skin to skin with you, I thought there was a level of trust" your pride stung, "I do trust you" you were going to say that because he is stronger than you, there was some caution in your way of being, but he then said, "But you fear me" "Maybe? Maybe I just respect you" "Oh cut the crap".

"You do that, what the hell happened here?" With a heavy sigh he pointed to an open envelope on the other corner of the room, "Lilith wrote, I thought it was to let us know if she was coming back but there were paperwork" Taking out the first sheet you read divorce agreement, the mess made sense now.

"She could've told me this herself but NO, she sends a cherub to give me the papers already signed" Poor messenger, "She has been in heaven this whole time?" His horns erupted from his head, "I KNOW, RIGHT? Of all the places she could go to" noticing how you took a step back he put in his best efforts to relax again, or as much as possible.

"I already sign them, if I seal the envelope it will be sent back to heaven to processing" You walked to sat by his side, "You want to do this?" He looked up to your face, "I can't force her if she doesn't want to be with me" He waived his left hand, the envelope then flew out your hand to seal itself and in a second it disappeared with a bright white light.

"Give me your hand" he knew which one, so he did, you slid his ring off gently, then kissed his released finger, "Think about it as a chapter of a book, now you inevitably have to pass to the next page" your free hand left the ring on your thigh and went to clean a tear going down his eye.

"Otherwise how you're supposed to know what lies ahead?" He pressed his cheek against your hand, "It hurts" his broken voice sent a needle like pain on your heart, "Mourn this love, you tried your best".

He let out a broken sob, tears streaming down his face.

He remembered how happy he felt when he proposed to her and she said yes, how elated he felt when Charlie's birth took place, and all of his wife's love was true and present. Seven years of sleeping in a bed with an empty space that no longer had his presence or her scent. After the second year he didn't even use her anymore, the memory of when she was happy hurt him a lot.

Now, the cold he felt was erased, you were there to console him. He Intertwined his fingers with yours without taking your hand from his face.

"You've still haven't answered my question, why while being so close I feel you so far away?" You thought about it for a moment, "Sorry Luci, I initially wanted to keep you at arm’s length" he took the ring off your thigh, making it go away.

"I figured, it hurt" there was a slight flash of red in his eyes, "Sorry" he shook his head, standing up "Don't sweat it ducky" breaking the somber angsty moment, you laughed, "Why the laugh?" His smile returned to his face, "Ducky is also slang from my time, means that something is very good", he chuckled at that, he had meant it as a nickname.

"Speaking of very good things, Charlie spilled the beans of forgetting somebody's birthday, it was a few months ago" he had a sing-song tone in the word somebody,  "Oh fuck, tell me she's not putting up balloons" he laughed in your face as he added "And serpentines".

You groaned, falling onto the bed, "I'm in hell".

"Since we already missed it, but tomorrow there will be a celebration, and we are close to the witching hour, I wanted to give you something first" he walked to his side of the bed, taking a red box from under it, "You got me a gift?" He placed the box next near as you sat on the bed.

After taking the lid off, the little girl that lived off hurt and grief awoke from deep within you, a yellow duck plushie sat at the bottom of the box, huggable size.

"Go to bed! You lying, no way!" Your voice took a higher tone as you took the stuffed animal out of the box.

"A plushie, how did you knew?!" You hugged the animal, "You told me, that time you came back drunk" your happiness didn't go away buy you did halted for a second, "What else did I told you? I can be a huge blabbermouth" Indeed you were.

"Your contract with Charlie, and what is about to happen...to you" you took a deep breath, "Oh shit, well I really love this, thank you" what is done is done, you couldn't change the past.

"I'm glad, I thought I made it too fluffy" after he told you he made it for you, the purring started, Lucifer slid on the bed to hear you better, "Oh there's my reward" flushed you hid your face in the plushie, "It ain't that cute" in response he lightly pinched your face, "It's adorable".

"Thank you, Luci" one of his hands took yours, lightly rubbing his thumb on your skin, "Happy birthday Y/n, you don't look a day over 120" he winked, "You were off by twenty years" his bright eyes held so much pain and happiness at the same time, "You also told me to remind you of something" he pushed the plushie down, setting it aside, "Of what?".

In a blink his lips captured yours, gently making pressure as he moved, his hand went from the bed to your cheek. The surprise made you hesitate for a second, your shaky arms passed his shoulders, hugging him closer, making him smile on your lips.

It made you laugh how he took a bit of leverage on you by sitting on your thighs, straddling your hips.

"That" he teased, "Now that was familiar" your hands felt his back, admiring the position, "How much do you remember?" You remembered most things, but you liked to mess with him.

"Bits and bits" he lowered to your cheek, placing a chaste kiss, "Say my name" he whispered, "Is it a kink for you?"  You gasped, his kiss landed on your neck next, "Say it" he moved again, his eyes on yours as you said it, "Lucifer".

His name rolling down your mouth made him crazy. Kissing you again, he felt like making it a little more intense, he pressed your body against the bed towering over you, his tail taking hold of your thigh.

His tongue licked the rim of your lip, asking for permission, "My tongue feels like sandpaper, like a cat" You shook your head, he smiled while snapping his fingers, then your tongue was smooth as normal, "May I now?" You nodded, his lips attaching to yours, finding a small gap to introduce his forked tongue into your mouth.

With one hand he leveled himself over you, while the other snaked his way to the back of your head, pressing you against him.

A small whine called his attention, he wanted to check on you, but when he separated a bit you brought him back, pushing yourself upwards and hugging his back with your arms. He hummed in delight, seeing that he was corresponded.

He made noises of his own, sighing when you took gentle fistfuls of his golden locks into your hands, those sent electric pulses down your core.

After a while, you stopped, pressed your forehead against his.

"You make me so confused" You whispered,  "How so?" Though your hands on his shoulders, you could almost feel his heart beat, "I do feel scared, but in the middle of the day I think about coming back here, with you, and it excites me", and the thing that makes you scared is to lose the warmth again.

Giddy as he could feel, he smiled, "Well I do make a hell of a cuddle buddy". Laugh, that was all you could do. The lights on his room went on again, making the disaster look less worse than you thought.

"Now that you're single, I'm sure Angel can help you out if you would like to get out there again, the lady demons will eat you up with a smile" a direct stab to his heart, one that brushed off with a smile.

"I'm sure they would, but I'm pretty comfortable with you" there was no way he meant it, or was it? "While you look for a partner right?" He shook his head, "Stay...with me" why would he say that? Is already the second time he made that proposal.

"What if you get bored of me?" Worried, he noticed you were, "We sleep on separate beds until we miss each other"  it was his turn to have his hands on your face, brushing off strands of hair, "I'm damaged" he smiled, "So am I, we have so much in common" how he could be so happy when you were so hesitant?

"I have issues and quirks and weirdness" how he could be so loving with you? He just lost his wife forever maybe, "I have depression, I'm weird and have a lot of energy, I may exhaust you one day" the sad look he gave you despite his smile torn apart something deep within you, "You could never" pressing a kiss against his temple made him hum happily, "I don't know if I'm ready for a commitment" you confessed, specially having your heart divided.

"Then, may I court you?" imagine a light, but instead of coming off his body only, it enlightened the whole room with an angelic hue, that’s how exited (nervous), he was. "We could go out, get to know each other, maybe seal the deal if I convince you" he said ever so sly, adding a bit of seduction to the mix, his charm was irresistible, "Okay, but if Charlie asks, it was your idea, I really don't want my horns pulled off again".

"You had horns?" he touched your forehead to try to find any reminiscent of horns, he was confused because he didn’t even found a scar, his eyes flashed a red hue again for a second, then he understood, he was able to see the colorful rim of your seal that kept your real self, hidden away.

He stood up and moved away, his magic aiding him to clean the mess he had done. Afterwards you ordered him to eat his dinner, the one that was kept decently warm under the silver lid. He took a few glances off the food to see you hugging the stuffed animal close to your heart.

How to explain what he was seeing? You, your eyes so lit with a joy that had been taken from you and denied for so long. You held the little animal so close to your heart, your knuckles forcibly white, as if you were afraid that at any moment someone was going to take it away from you.

He saw a girl, the girl that maybe you once were. A happy little girl with a birthday gift that she promises to always use until she wears it out, and maybe love it even if it is in tatters.

"How are you liking the plushie?" he finished eating, making his way to you, "I think he will take your place tonight" he gasped, acting offended, "What? I'm better than a plushie, I come with hugs".

"This might sound weird, because it is, but tomorrow morning, would it be possible for me to brush your hair?" Lucifer couldn’t avoid blushing, his surprise alarming you a little, "It's something I saw some people do for others, I just, okay it's stupid" he smiled, "A couples thing" you nodded, closing your eyes as you saw his face getting closer and closer, until he placed a peck on your nose, "I would love to".

You left a few minutes to eat your portion of dinner, then when you returned, Lucifer was in the middle of the room, only in his brief, short black boxers that made his ass tight.

"Oh hey, I come in the wrong time" you laughed, closing the door and facing it as fast as lighting,  "You're too cute for my health" he laughed, his hoofed feet sounding closer and closer to you, "Look, nothing out of the ordinary" he turned you around, both hands on your hips, your back against the door.

Another set of scars making his sides look greyish, burned patches, by the look on your eyes he couldn’t make out if you wanted to ask about them, kill the person who did them, (not that you could really), or do the crying instead of him.

“Don't mind those” since his hands were already on your hips, he took on the opportunity to hug you, “You know? you asked me why I was bothered with things so earth bound" you bump your head against the door, "Me and my big mouth" his tail went around your leg.

"You should speak your mind more often, also, just so you know, I don’t want you to show me if you don’t want to, but I can see the spell surrounding you" ‘Again, I hate the way you see through me’ you thought, making the spell go away at will for the first time, because the other one was because of anger reasons.

"Alastor saw me like this, I couldn't tell if he was scared or disgusted" he chuckled, "For his own sake, he better not say a fucking insult your way" If he could purr he would, especially taking in your entire appearance at once. Broken brown horns, your wings dragging on the ground, the connection between your back and the bone was clearly loose and broken, you also had several spaces without fur, old brown marks that made his heart cry.

You decided to break the focus the king was on your skin, for two reasons the silence was giving you psychosis and at the rate he was going you would end up biting him, and not in a non-sexy way.  

"Hey Luci, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" he took his cheek off your stomach and frowned in surprise, "Uhm yes, why?", you tried not to laugh in anticipation giving the stupidity you were about to say, "Because your beauty is angelical" but the punchline made you lose it, literally laughing your ass off while he pinched his nose trying to hold his own chuckle.

The next morning, something that came to you like second nature was waking up next to Lucifer. You usually had him hugged your waist like those little parasitic fish that hang from the skin of sharks, except that he was one of the good little fish, or rather a little duck that has a very bad awakening.

If you have seen a Polish chicken and the crazy hairstyle they have, then you can get an idea of what Luci looked like in the mornings.

You'd wake him with a few gentle caresses on his cheek, then watch him join you in the bathroom, heavy eyelids and sharp teeth showing from how much he yawned. For him, having you comb his hair was another level of intimacy that went beyond sex, due to his height his head was at the height of your breasts, he was perfectly fine using you as a pillow while you fixed the pompadour that he liked to wear every day.

He enjoying himself while you were fighting with a lock of hair as proud as him that did not want to fall in line under the hairspray.

Both already dressed, just like the demon on the radio (but don't tell him) Lucifer left his bowtie untied just for you to fix it, the occasional brush strokes of your fingers against his neck getting to puff up his feathers.

Internally you wanted to die, or run away. Charlie is very good at making up for shit she screws up, and forgetting your birthday wasn't necessarily an action that would hurt you, to be honest, since you hadn't celebrated it in a long time, simply no one, not even you, remembered it.

Even the bar had balloons and serpentines, the amount of confetti that came out of the sides of the stairs when you came down was so much that you would be spitting out pieces of colorful paper from now until the anniversary of the deal between you and her.

"Happy belated birthday" here and there, there was even cake, but Nifty had baked it so for safety's sake you didn't take a bite of it, no one in fact. Everyone swore they saw something moving inside the cake.

You and Lucifer agreed to go out that night, Alastor seeing this couldn't help but feel like something was slipping through his fingers. Almost as if he had the deer on the edge of the nose of his rifle and his trigger jammed.

"You look so beautiful, dear, ready for a second part of the celebrations?" ever so harshly he tried to get you away from Lucifer as he could, “Actually, Bambi, she and I will be going out right now” If the king's mocking smile wasn't enough of a kick in the guts for Alastor, the nickname made his blood boil.

“Isn’t it unfair to snatch the birthday girl on her day?” Him and Luci were starting to het dangerously close, “Belated day” you tried to add, “Not that you knew either” lucifer smiled, the air getting thick. “Guys?” you tried again, no reaction, “Big bad Bambi is going to stop me from treating her to a nice evening?” Lucifer bared his fangs to the deer demon, but far from make him retreat, he encouraged him so, the dials in Alastor’s eyes turning a furious shade of red.

“I could offer her something better” the king snorted in response, “Voodoo doll making and killing don’t make much of a date, you know?” the bickering went on like that until Alastor pushed a limit, “How about you go beg your wife for some sympathy instead?” now before Lucifer could utter a single word you put yourself in between them.  

“Alastor, enough” he had to blink a few times to acknowledge you in the middle, “I think I have the right to spend my days however I want, do I not?” he growled a ‘Yes’, “Then we’ll have a drink in your studio once I’m back, how about it?” now it was that or making you angry enough to ignore him again, “Fine”.

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

Part 10

Stay tuned :3

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Good Mornings

Jack Hughes x girlfriend!OC

"Ja-"

"Jesus Christ, Z! Fucking knock would you?"Jack can't help but yell, body jumping and making mine jump along with his, my book falling from my hand.

"Dude, calm down, this is important," Is Trevor's response, at the very least closing Jack's and my bedroom door behind himself once he notices our lack of clothing from last night. "Also, I thought I heard something going on on my way to bed last night."

"You're right, it is super important how pervy you are for listening to my girlfriend and I have sex," Jack grumbles, pulling the quilt up on my body so that it covers more of my front, my eyes drifting up from the pages of the book to meet those of Jack's best friend, the boy looking entirely too comfortable in our presence.

"You and I both know that's not what was going on, you two are just noisy," Trev complains, rolling his eyes and making his way to plop in the desk chair in the corner of J's room, elbows on his knees and hands folded.

"Is there a reason that you're in here trying to sneak a peak of my naked boyfriend?" I can't help but groan, just wanting to return to our rare moment of peace, the ever incoming insanity of the house looming.

"I've seen Jack naked a million times, I have no interest in doing it this morning," Is the response I get, his entire being smug, earning the tossing of my book. At his head.

A kind gesture, I know.

"Hey, what the hell!"

"Should I be concerned that Z has seen you naked more than I have and we've been dating for three years?"

"I've been his best friend for sev-"

"Trev," Jack scolds, silencing the boy into a pout, although I can't focus on it too long as Jack's hand is pulling my chin towards his, kissing my lips. "Baby, you're literally laying on top of me naked right now. I don't think you're in a position to let him make you jealous."

"This is disgust- Wait is she laying on you nips out?"

"Trevor!"

"Dude you don't ask that to a woman! No wonder you're single!" Jack groans at the same time I scold Trevor for his words.

"I'm just saying - " He appeals, hands raised in a surrender, "How are you not actively a tree trunk man? Your hot as hell girlfriend is laying on you in her birth day suit and you're just laying there while she reads?"

"We had been enjoying a quiet morning until you barged in," I remind, his eyes turning to me.

"And you! You're hot -"

"Please stop there before I feel the need to hurl at the words that were about to come out of your mouth," Jack interrupts this time.

"What's to say that he's not hard as a rock?" I can't help but tease, Jack's brows hitting the ceiling as Trevor chokes on his spit.

"Ok, gross, I'm leaving."

"Bring me back my book! I want to finish the chapter I was on!" I demand, Trev tossing the book to Jack to catch as he makes his way to the door.

"We're going to pretend that this never happened, because otherwise I may be the one barfing."

"Trev, you were literally the one that barged -"

"Nope, can't hear you, see ya!" The boys calls, barely out the door and letting it shut behind himself.

Rising onto my hands, the shift catches J's attention, his eyes meeting mine.

"Yes baby?"

"You need a more normal best friend."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Slice Of Normal

Summary: The reader has just moved to Montana to live with her estranged father and out of a place where she no longer feels welcome. But it's been a long time since the pair have lived together and while Beau might think things can slip back to normal, it's not quite that easy...

Pairing: dad!Beau x daughter!reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, family angst, divorce, mention of murder case

A/N: Here's a little Beau and daughter!reader for the first time!

_____

“Hey, kiddo,” said your dad as you tossed your backpack in the backseat. “How was school?”

“Fine,” you forced out, pilling into the front, glaring out the windshield. You felt his heated stare but he dropped it, pulling out of the line of cars at pick up and heading for home. He tapped his fingers against the wheel, words clearly on the tip of his tongue. But once again he didn’t say anything. 

Sometimes it was like living with a damn stranger.

Two years ago, life was normal. Your parents were married. Dad had a good job as a cop. Mom was doing her consulting. Every day you went home to two parents. You had the same friends you had your whole life. You got a starbucks with your mom every Saturday morning and you made homemade pizzas for dinner. You watched trash reality shows with your dad and you’d both get way too invested in the petty drama. It was all perfectly normal.

Until he went to work one day and it went to hell. Dad’s partner was killed and he blamed himself for not stopping it. He was…strange after that. He still asked about school and your day, still watched your shitty shows with you. But there was no joy in him. He felt guilty and dad wasn’t much of one for sharing his own feelings. You knew he’d get better with time. 

That’s when things got strange with mom too. She started to pick fights with him. She kept trying to force him to go to some expensive trauma therapist. All three of you knew he was hurting but she was the only one that said he was broken. You’d never forget the look on his face when she barked it at him in a fight. 

Watching one parent fall out of love with another in front of your own eyes was your own strange experience. You knew in that moment she’d left a mark on him, one that’d make him shutdown even more, hold even more feelings back from her. There’d be more fights. More snide comments. She’d get fed up and divorce him.

Four months after the shootout, she handed him the divorce papers and a flip switched in him. He started to fight back, the both of them bickering and arguing so much you found yourself storming downstairs and yelling at them both to act like adults. Dad moved out not long after that and within a month mom had a new boyfriend.

You stuck it out until last week before you knew you’d go crazy if you stayed in that house, your house, with her and that guy for one more second. 

Which meant moving halfway across the country to fucking Montana to live with a guy you hadn’t seen in person in six months.

“Mom’s marrying her boyfriend,” you said when he stopped at a red light. You didn’t look at him, sure he once again didn’t know what to say. “That’s why I wanted to move here. He doesn’t give two shits about me but he fakes it real good when she’s around.”

“Your mother should know-”

“She doesn’t listen to me when I try to talk and I’m sick of it. I know you know she’s like that,” you said, turning your head. He glanced down, gaze back on the road. “She’s a bitch.”

“Hey. Don’t talk about your mother like that.”

“Why not?” you scoffed. “She is one. You of all people know she is.”

“Mom is not a bitch,” he said, hitting the gas when the light turned, getting you off a busy street and heading for the outskirts of town. “Y/N, we raised you better than to call people names.”

“You’re defending her? You? She only drove you out of your own home, own family.” He gripped the wheel tighter, clenching his jaw. “Jesus christ. You still love her, don’t you. Why the hell would-”

“I am the reason…I moved out and I left. I refused to acknowledge the shit going on in my head and all mom tried to do was get me help. Do not blame her for-”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed. “I’d get out of her ass if I were you. Some other guy is fucking it now and she’s never taking you back.”

He pulled over fast, shaking his head at you. His green eyes narrowed, mouth opening just as his car radio crackled to life.

“Arlen,” he growled into the radio, frowning at you, a clear message to not say another word right now. 

“Chief we got reports of a murder-suicide at the Breckenridge Ranch. Jenny and Pop are taking lead but are requesting your presence,” said a woman’s voice on the other end. 

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He clipped the radio back in, taking a deep breath. “Y/N you are going to listen to me and I mean listen to me because I am about to have a very long night and we are not dropping this discussion. I don’t care for the way you speak and I do not like the way you talk about your mom. You don’t like her boyfriend, fiance, fine. But you’ll at least respect him. You don’t like you mother? Then at a minimum you will respect her. You do not call people bitch. You are grounded until further notice.”

“Wow,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m on your side and I’m the asshole. My old dad would have understood that but you? I don’t know who the fuck you are. Go ahead and ground me. I literally don’t care. You’re a fucking stranger.”

He was pissed. Very pissed. He turned back on the road and did a u-turn, heading back into town. You raised an eyebrow but he held up a finger. “No. You want to swear at me? Call me a stranger? Fine. I’m going to work. You’re a big enough girl to have a potty mouth then you don’t mind a little murder scene, hmm? You want to know what the fuck I do all day? Well now’s your chance to see, maybe I’ll be less of a damn stranger that way.”

You kept quiet, staring out the window for the next twenty minutes. You swallowed when he drove past a cruiser at the ranch entrance and yellow tape, driving silently down the dirt road. 

“Stay in the truck,” he said when he parked behind another cruiser outside a nearby barn. You bit the inside of your lip, hearing him shift around behind you. A few seconds later you had your backpack in your lap. “Do your homework.”

“I thought you wanted me to see dead bodies,” you mumbled, fisting one of the straps. His heavy sigh filled the space, a twinge of guilt in your gut.

“I never want that for you. We’ll get dinner out somewhere in a few hours. We need to talk. Not fight. Talk,” he said, pausing a beat before opening his door.

“Why didn’t you take me home?” you asked. He slid out, his shoulders sagging with his back to you.

“Because I’m scared you won’t be there when I get back.” He turned around, plucking his hat from the center console. You stared at him as he frowned. “I know you ran away from home two weeks ago, kid. We are not letting that happen again. Understand?”

You gave a small nod, the door closing loudly in the small space before you shut your eyes.

Maybe you should have just stayed in Texas.

Three Hours Later

You’d finished your homework awhile ago and were watching videos on your phone when you saw your dad approach the truck. He said something to a blonde cop lady and another guy, giving them a quick wave.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said, back in the truck, tossing his hat in the back.

“S’fine.” He was backed out and heading for the road quickly, rubbing his hand against his jaw. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Why?”

“You were at a murder scene…” you said, catching a quick twitch of his lip. “Do dead bodies not scare you?”

“Not really. Sometimes you see bad things but a vast majority of the time, murders are…” he bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. “There are scenes that are gruesome but most murders are not something out of a horror film, at least to me. You get desensitized to it somewhat. Even the bad ones, it doesn’t tend to bother me. They were a person and unfortunately they lost their life in a violent way. My job is to act on their behalf and get them the justice they deserve. They aren’t scary bodies. It’s a soul that’s gone that I can help is the way I look at it.”

He cleared his throat as he pulled back onto the road.

“But Helena is much safer than Houston. Not as many murders or any of that.” You hummed, glancing out the window. “Y/N, I know you’re upset with me right now but I want you to be careful. Something is…happening. I don’t know what it is but be careful. No going out at night alone. Keep the doors and windows locked all the time. Be smart, alright?”

“Ok,” you said quietly. “That wasn’t a murder-suicide, was it.”

“It was a very good attempt at making it look like one. If my officers weren’t as good at their jobs, they would have written it up as one instead of what it was. A double murder. My gut says it wasn’t random though which means it’s less likely anyone else winds up hurt.” 

“S’good,” you mumbled before the air went quiet. He only tapped the steering wheel, no rhythm to it. Tap tap. Tap tap. 

He had no problem talking about work since you’d moved in a week ago. God, the first day he’d talked too much, trying to fill the awkward silences. Maybe he’d been gone too long and this is what your relationship was now.

You closed your eyes, resting your head on the glass, wishing he’d never left in the first place. 

You jerked and flashed open your eyes when he shook your shoulder. The inside of the truck smelled like grease and the brown bag on the dash confirmed your suspicions. He nodded out the window and you turned, finding you were at a fairly deserted park. You left your backpack behind and crawled out, walking over to the nearest picnic table. A moment later he was sat across from you, pulling out a box of chicken nuggets, fries and two packets of sauce.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the food from him as he took out a bigger box and more fries for himself.

“Well, I figured your McDonald’s go to hadn’t changed at least.” You shrugged, the two of you eating without saying another word. But it didn’t last, the food soon gone, the trash bundled up and tossed in a nearby can. 

Your dad sighed when he returned to his seat, resting his forearms against the faded wood top.

“Y/N. I…I left you and mom. If there’s anyone you should hate-”

“Why do you keep lying for her?” you interrupted. He swallowed thickly, breathing out a slow breath. “You left because she tossed you out. You didn’t leave because you wanted to.”

“...She had every right to.” You rolled your eyes, his hand raising. “Please. Just listen. Mom tried to get me help and I was the one that was an asshole about it. I blamed myself, I still do. She did what you’re supposed to for a partner. I pushed her away and us not being together anymore is because of me.”

You shook your head, a frown forming on his face. “I lived in that house too. I know you or at least I used to. I knew you were hurting and we couldn’t fix it. But I got that. It was something you had to go through, at your pace. You did the same thing when grandpa died. You got all quiet and pushed it down. And mom…she was a bitch back then too and tried to force you to get better faster all because she didn’t like having a grieving husband. You are supposed to help your partner, not hurt them more. Your problem has always been that you’re too in love with her to see that she hurts you. Just for one second imagine that was my husband that did that to me. Imagine he tried to force me into therapy less than a week after my best friend died because I was fucking sad and didn’t want to talk about it. Imagine my partner made me feel even worse and like I was the problem during one of the lowest moments of my life. Imagine that he was the one that made me feel like all of it was my fault when I was grieving. You’d tell me to leave his ass so I’m asking you to please, please stop defending her. I’m not a little kid anymore, dad.”

“No, you’re clearly not,” he said quietly, staring down at his lap. “I just don’t want you to hate your mother. Her heart was in the right place, even if that’s not how I process things.”

“I don’t hate her. I just don’t like her anymore. I told her so many times I didn’t like her boyfriend and she wouldn’t listen to me. You would have listened to me. S’why I ran away. I was trying to come here.” 

He pursed his lips and you waited, giving him time to respond the way he wanted to. 

“I wish…I wish mom and I had handled things differently. But what happened, happened. I would like to see you attempt to reconcile with your mom but I won’t force it.”

“Thank you,” you said, a quick nod coming from him.

“But…you are also a bit thick headed.” You frowned. “I know you are a teenager and dad isn’t the cool guy anymore but I reached out every single day and you definitely didn’t answer. I invited you to visit so many times and you never would. So cut your mom some slack because if you’re giving me that treatment, I can only imagine it’s the same for her.”

“Fine,” you grit out, trying to ignore how he may have had a point about why your relationship had soured. You sort of started ignoring him but you’d been busy and he needed space to work through his crap, hadn’t he?

“And for the record, it’s possible to still love someone but not want to be married to them ever again.” You stared at him, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t want to deal with an attitude all the time and you don’t want me to be a grump that hounds you every day. Can we try a clean slate? Pretend this afternoon didn’t happen?”

“Alright. We can try.”

The Next Day

You rubbed your jaw as you sat on the hard bench outside of the principal’s office. You had to hand it to Mara Hoyt. The little bitch knew how to throw a right hook. You guess that’s what happened when the star softball pitcher decided she hated your guts all because her boyfriend said hi to you on your first day.

On her own, you could have handled that. But this school was cliche central and the mean popular girl got all her mean popular friends to start bullying you after that. You were honestly surprised it took a whole eight days for things to get physical.

She was already in the office with her parents, crying the blues about how awful you were and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Shit, you hadn’t even touched the girl yet you were the one the school resource officer threw a pair of cuffs on. 

The sharp skid of a rubber sole against linoleum made both you and the officer turn your heads, your dad staring at you both wide eyed.

“Todd, get those cuffs of her or so help me,” growled your dad, storming over. 

“Sir? What are you-”

“How many Arlen’s do you think there are in this town? That’s my daughter,” he grit out. Todd moved at lightning speed the second he had the keys out of his pocket, apologizing to his boss and not you. You had to fight to not roll your eyes. You had a feeling with the way your dad’s face looked murderous that wouldn’t go over well.

“Excuse me,” said the vice principal, coming out to the hall with a stern expression. “Why is she uncuffed? She attacked-”

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” said your dad with a scary undertone in his voice, neglecting to offer his hand. “Y/N’s father and Chief of police over at the station. We don’t cuff seventeen year old girls unless they’ve committed a crime. Now, if after our discussion and I hear all the facts it turns out she did, I’ll cuff her myself and take her down for booking. Am I clear?”

The vice principal narrowed his eyes but said nothing, holding the door open. You trudged inside, your dad hot on your heels. You sat in the empty chair in front of the desk, Mara doing a good job of looking like a sobbing mess in the one nearby.

“Mr. Arlen?” the principal asked. He hummed, finding a spot along the wall and leaning against it with crossed arms, his eyes shooting to Mara. “I’m afraid we’ll have to suspend Y/N for attacking Mara for five days out of school.”

“And we’re pressing charges, even if you are the sheriff,” said a snotty woman. 

God were you working hard to not flip that whole family off. You were about to open your mouth and try to give your side of the story when you saw your dad’s face and his finger wag at you.

Uh oh. 

“Where do we want to begin? The way this school only got one students side of the story-”

“There are witnesses,” cut in the vice principal, your dad holding up a hand.

“Let me guess, Mara’s friends?” he shot back, clenching his jaw, returning his focus to the principal. “Now I know for a fact my daughter is getting bullied by this girl and her friends every single day since she started last week.”

You swallowed. You hadn’t told him that. How had he known?

He stepped forward, putting his hands on the back of your chair, leaning over it so you felt his chest against the top of your head.

“Do we want to start with the blatant bullying? Or perhaps with Mara?” he asked, turning his head to her, shooting her parents a glare. “You know, the one who actually did the attacking.”

“My daughter did no such thing,” snapped her dad. You felt your dad reach an arm around, gently grasping your forearm and holding it up.

“One girl has only defensive injuries. Bruises, nail marks. The other has scrapped knuckles, two broken fingernails and can’t look me in the eye. Guess which one is which,” growled your dad, his hand still gentle as he lowered your arm to your lap. Mara’s parents didn’t look like they were about to backdown though.

“There are witnesses. This is ridiculous. Mara acted in self-defense then,” said her mom. You glanced at the principal, his words caught in his throat and you couldn’t help but smile for a moment.

“Oh so now her story is changing?” poked your dad.

“No!” said her mom. “Your daughter said something so vile and threatening-”

“To her bully? Did Y/N say something like that to you Mara? Did she say something because her bully’s been so mean to her?”

“Don’t speak to our daughter!” shouted her dad. Mara glanced at you, as if you’d somehow help her. Meanwhile this was turning out to be the best day of your new school yet.

“I don’t hear her denying she was bullying Y/N? In fact, I don’t hear her saying anything. If it’s so abhorrent and you felt in so much danger, why don’t you tell us all what it was that made you act in self-defense, hm?” said your dad, his focus narrowed in on Mara. 

She was so fucked and she knew it. 

“I said don’t-”

“Alec,” interrupted the vice principal, his focus turned onto Mara as well. “Mara. Answer the question.”

But she couldn’t. She was floundering, face turning red under the interrogation. 

“Tell the truth and the Arlen family,” growled your dad, pointed straight back at her parents, “Will not press any charges.”

Mara contorted her face before throwing her hands up. “She called me insecure and said I should get help for that so I got mad and punched and kicked her.”

“And why did she call you that?” cut in your dad, laser focused on Mara. She closed her eyes, lowering her head. “Mara.”

“Because I’ve been bullying her because my boyfriend said hi to her and said we should get to know her because she’s new but I know he just wants to get in her pants so I told all my friends to keep her away from him no matter what.”

“I expect an apology,” he said. She looked up, eyes full of unshed tears. “Oh, not to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, barely looking at you.

“Thanks. I don’t accept it and that is perfectly within my rights,” you said. 

“Regardless, Mara you’re suspended for five days out of school. Y/N, you’re suspended for two. We have a zero tolerance policy on fighting,” said the principal.

“She didn’t fight,” said your dad, his voice stern. 

“It’s a rule,” said the principal.

“Fine,” said your dad, grabbing your bicep and pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go get lunch out, maybe catch a movie.”

You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as he led you out, his hand falling away when he looked over his shoulder. “Three more things. One, I fully expect punishments for the students that lied about what they saw. Two, I hear of anymore bullying happening at this school to any kid, I will make it my personal mission in life to get you fired and three? You people get your daughter in therapy sooner than later because that’s the sort of thing that gets her tossed in jail when she’s older.”

He tossed your backpack over his shoulder as he led you out to the hall, hand on your back leading you towards the front doors. You grinned as you stared, his face blank when he opened the door to fresh air.

“That was fucking awesome,” you said, jogging down the steps and over to the truck. “You went full cop mode and scared the shit of her! That was-”

“Are you okay?” he asked when you sat in the passenger seat. You tilted your head when he cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over the scuffed up skin on the left. “We need to clean that.”

He pushed up your short sleeves, finding more bruises, a few older ones, before trailing down to your nicked up arms.

“Y/N, I know you’re a good kid that doesn’t like to get in trouble but promise me something?” You nodded when he fixed your braid behind your ear. “Next time someone touches you without permission, you lay their ass out.”

“You told me I shouldn’t hit people.”

“Yeah, well the little bitch would have deserved it.” Your jaw dropped into a grin, his attempt at holding a blank face faltering, a smile creeping up. “Yeah, I know I said not to call people that but that kid’s a psycho waiting to happen. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead. “How’d you know I didn’t start the fight?”

“I know you. I also know there would have been no fight because if you had thrown the first punch, that girl would be knocked out.” He stroked your cheek again and sighed. “No headache? Anything like that?”

“She punches like a pussy.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Too far?”

“Just a tad. Come on. Let’s go enjoy your suspension.”

Later That Evening

“Alec’s my second cousin, such a dickhead,” said one of dad’s officer’s, the blonde woman named Jenny you’d seen last night. “Mara’s always been awful.”

“Jenny,” chided your dad in his office, chowing down on some chinese takeout from behind his desk. You gave her a smile, eating from your carton as she set a file down in front of him. “Don’t be a bad influence.”

“If I were her, I would have decked the little shit,” said Jenny. Your dad rolled his eyes and read through the file, Jenny stealing a fortune cookie for herself. She leaned against his desk and offered you a smile. “So besides the school being crap thing and your dad dragging you to murder scenes, how do you like Montana so far?”

“Jenny,” he said again, glancing over the top of the file at her.

“It’s a lot less boring than I thought it’d be,” you said, offering her one of your egg rolls. 

“Thank you,” she said, popping it in her mouth, returning her attention to your dad. “Both vics had traces of a yellow substance in their air passages.”

“Rat poison?” you asked, both of them slowly turning their heads towards you. They stared blankly as you chewed. “It was in that new hunger games movie, they killed a guy with it.”

“Wow,” said Jenny as your dad closed his eyes. “That’s impressive.”

“I don’t even…” he sighed, rubbing his jaw as he flashed open his eyes. “So rat poison killed them. Why make it look like a murder suicide then? This person must have known we’d do autopsies.”

“Unless they didn’t,” you said, earning a glare from him. “Hey, people are dumb. You taught me that when I was like eight.”

“Y/N-”

“No, she has a point,” said Jenny, picking up her copy of the file and glancing through it. “Who is smart enough to use rat poison but dumb enough to not realize we’d find it and try to cover it up?”

“No one, that’s who,” said your dad. You bit into another eggroll and shrugged. He threw his hand back and groaned. “Fine. What’s your theory?”

“Well, a kid is dumb enough,” you said. “Maybe they watched that movie too.”

“Genius plan except that couple had no kids,” he said. You finished your bite and shrugged. “What?”

“Weren’t you the one that also told me people aren’t always what they seem and not to trust someone just because they were nice? They could have been whackjobs.”

Jenny cocked her head, glancing at your dad. “Kid has a point, Arlen. It was a large property. Entirely possible we missed something.”

“Fine. We’ll check it out first thing,” he said, nodding to you. “You might as well come along Ms. Detective, since you’re out ot school for a few days.”

“Good with me. As long as it’s not early. I don’t do early,” you said, a tiny smirk on his face that told you you’d be up at dawn.

The Next Afternoon

“What’s going to happen to him?” you asked as your dad drove you both home after a long morning. He was quiet for a beat. “Will he go to juvie?”

“Maybe. Maybe a hospital for people like him. Either way, it’s a better situation than he was in,” he said. He tapped the wheel, his lips pursed. “You know I don’t want you to be a cop right?”

“I know. It’s just…it’s easy to talk to you about your work,” you said. He nodded, turning off to the road just a minute drive from the house. 

“So can you rent this movie with the rat poison?” he asked. You stared, his eyes flickering over for just a moment. “I thought Katniss took out the capital. How can they have another movie?”

“It’s a prequel, about Snow.” 

“Whoa, Donald Sutherland Snow? They made a movie about that jackass?” 

“Well, she wrote another book and then they made it into a movie. It was really good cause you can see how he’s a complete narcissist and he goes from this actually mostly likable guy to the jackass in the other movies.”

“Okay, I definitely have to see this.” He pulled into the driveway, your gaze fixed on him when he turned the car off. “Unless you don’t want to watch it?”

“No I just…I miss when I’d make you watch the hunger games and you’d make me watch the dirty dozen and that was our thing.”

“Still our thing,” he said, brushing his thumb over the healing scrape on your cheek. “How’s that feeling today?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“I know, I know. I worry.” He opened the door and smiled as he popped out. “Alright little criminal. Go do that homework you ignored all day while I make us something to eat before our movie.”

“Really? Come on. I’m still suspended tomorrow. Can’t I do it over the weekend?” He looked up like he was thinking about it, a small smile crossing his face. “Thank you!”

“You’re helping me with dinner, missy.” You didn’t really mind that fact though. Making dinner together and watching a movie? That was normal for the two of you. 

A few hours later when you were bundled up under a blanket together on the couch and pressing start, you finally felt like it was a normal thursday night, no more tension or awkwardness in the air. And while murder investigations and school fights were certainly interesting, a little slice of normal again felt damn good.

_________

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Drunken Serenade

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, soft!joel, established relationship, flashback, alcohol consumption, unprotected piv, a lil dirty talk, creampie bc obvi, unedited bc i’m lazy)

word count: 2.5k

joel masterlist | joel playlist

It was no small feat holding the affection of Joel Miller. Though he often grumbled about hating how everyone was always “watchin” him in your small, second-chance town of Jackson, Wyoming, there was no escaping it.

Part of it came from being related to Tommy and Maria, the town’s founders for all intents and purposes. A larger part of it—the part that Joel hated most—no doubt came from his reputation of being ñ prolific at killing. Not many people could say they met someone that managed to survive for as long as Joel had, especially in the brutal conditions he often found himself in. To the people of Jackson, regardless if you were a fighter or a farmer, Joel Miller was a living, breathing legend.

And that’s what he was to you, too, for a while.

But now, in the dim lighting of Joel’s kitchen, Joel’s hands scrubbing the dishes after the two of you shared dinner for the 300-hundredth something time, he was just a man, a man you loved, humming softly to himself.

“Sounds pretty,” you complimented the unidentifiable tune as you slid your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder blade as he continued to scrub. “Do I know it?”

“No,” he answered with softness, the almost-clean pan in his hand preventing him from turning around and wrapping his arms around you. “Just somethin’ m’workin’ on.”

“Will I get to hear it in full one day?” You let go of him to stand at his side, grabbing the clean dishcloth that draped on the oven handle to dry the clean dishes sitting on the rack.

“Maybe,” he gave you a flicker of a bashful smile, his hip leaning out to bump into yours. “Long as you serenade me back.”

“Oh, you want me to sing for you, huh?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from your lips at the thought of your mediocre-at-best vocal talent gracing his ears again, Joel having heard it for the very first time one year ago at the bar. Your sloppy, drunken rendition of “I Have Nothing” last Valentine’s Day earned you his attention for the very first time, an attention that thankfully never faded.

One Year Ago — February 14th

“Let loose,” your newest (well—only, if you were being honest with yourself) friend in Jackson, Margot urged you on at the bar, sliding one of the shot’s of harsh, unrefined vodka she’d ordered towards you. “You’ve been babysitting that beer for the last hour. Come on.”

“I don’t drink,” you whined, the thought of alcohol alone enough to make you gag.

“Look, you’re single and alone on Valentine’s day in the middle of an apocalypse. There’s no better reason to drink.” You couldn’t argue with her logic, so you pinched your nose and tipped the shot glass back, the cold liquor hitting your uvula nearly forcing it right back up but you championed through it with a wince. “There ya go!”

“Jesus Christ—“ you choked on your beer as you tried to drown out the taste of the vodka still burning your throat. “You’ve had three of those! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m a masochist,” she joked with a chuckle before gasping at the sight of Tommy and Maria finishing setting up the karaoke machine on the tiny stage in the corner of the bar. “I’m signing us up.”

“Absolutely not!” You laughed as she walked up to the esteemed couple on the stage, Tommy handing her the sign-up sheet with a grin before finding you in the crowd and waving you over. You shook your head and tried to hide away, but he seemed determined.

“I can still see you!” he drawled out in his accent, Maria’s whistles finally getting you to make your way to the stage. “Here, have a look at the catalog. I’ll go get you another drink, you look like you might need some liquid courage.”

“Definitely.”

A few shots later, you were well past the point of courage and deep into drunken stupidity, the microphone in your hands as you unabashedly belted out the words to a near-impossible to pull off song, your voice breaking and cracking the entire time. Though crowd in the bar was mostly focused on their own conversations, you couldn’t help but lock eyes with a familiar face, though you’d never so much as spoken to the man before.

After all, what reason would the town’s school teacher have for chatting up the famous Joel Miller?

Clearly too drunk to care about your lack of acquaintance, you pointed at him as you sang, a wide grin on your face as you watched him try to calm the smile that grew on his.

“I have nothing! Nothing! Nothinnnnnnnnnng—“ your cracking voice softened into a mildly enjoyable breathy tone as you sang the last line, stretching your hand out for him as though you were serenading him. “If I don’t have you.”

“Well! That was definitely somethin’,” Tommy helped you off the stage while Maria continued to emcee, holding in her chuckle as you almost took a tumble down the singular step, Tommy quick to catch you. With a singular laugh, Maria ordered her husband to help sober you up a bit. “Get her some coffee.”

“I got it,” Joel stepped in, the deep mess of his southern rasp forcing your glassy eyes up to meet his. “Come on, Miss Houston. Let’s get a cup’a coffee in ya.”

You drunkenly slurred out your actual name as you allowed him to help walk you into the back kitchen, away from the drunken crowd. Joel chuckled and nodded as he got the coffee pot going, his back turned to you as you rested against the fridge.

“I know your name,” he replied, the simple sentence bringing a goofy grin to your face.

“Oh, yeah?” you flirted, biting your lip as you waited for him to turn around and grace you with eye contact. When he finally did, you literally felt your knees buckle, Joel’s eyes turning concerned for a moment until you steadied yourself.

“Lemme get you a chair.” He walked off to the office, returning a moment later with a wooden stool. He set it down by the metal island, ordering you to sit down with a pat onto the wood. “Take it you don’t drink often.”

“Never,” you corrected. “But I’m single and alone on Valentine’s day in the middle of an apocalypse, so…” you repeated Margot’s words from earlier before realizing you hadn’t seen her in at least an hour. “Margot! Have you—“

“She left with her husband ‘bout a half-hour ago,” he informed you before you had a chance to worry too much. “And you ain’t alone.”

“Huh?”

“You said you’re single and alone,” he replied, turning his back to you once more as the coffee pot began to fill the mug. “You ain’t alone.”

“Well, not literally, but—“ you shrugged, gesturing at yourself. “Not going home with anybody.”

“Well, gettin’ yourself drunk maybe put a wrench in that plan,” he chuckled, setting your cup down in front of you before walking to the fridge. “Need creamer?”

“No, I’ll just,” you took a sip of the hot liquid and hummed, enjoying the bitterness more than you did sober. “Pretty good.”

“I do pride myself on my coffee,” he walked off to the office and quickly returned with another chair, pulling it up to the island and sitting down in front of you. “You know how many guys out there would’ve been more than happy to keep you company tonight?”

“Oh, I’m sure there was a line,” you replied, your smirk growing into a smile as you watched Joel roll his eyes. “I don’t like any of the guys in town. They’re all too…brutal.”

Joel’s face fell a bit as he nodded, his knuckles tapping on the metal.

“I didn’t mean you—I just mean they’re all very…I don’t know,” you sighed and rested your forehead on the table.

“It’s alright,” he assured. “My ego ain’t bruised that bad.”

“I really didn’t mean you,” you spoke softly as your eyes met his again. “You’re not—I don’t consider you one of the guys in town. You’re like…untouchable to all of us, you know?”

“What?” He chuckled but his cluelessness was sincere.

“All of us women don’t see you as someone attainable. You’re…Joel. Too good for—“ Joel’s scoff interrupted your sentence before you could finish it, his head shaking.

“I ain’t too good for shit,” he corrected, his hazel eyes softening as he met yours. “And I definitely ain’t too good for you. Ask anyone in their right mind and they’d quickly tell ya it’s the other way around.”

“You trying to flirt with me?” you asked through. drunken grin, tilting your head at him. Joel chuckled and shrugged in response. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“Maybe you and I can talk about this when you’re sobered up—breakfast, tomorrow mornin’?” You didn’t try to hide the eagerness in your smile as you accepted his offer with a nod.

“I’d like that.”

After the dishes were finished, the two of you found yourself in the clawfoot bathtub Joel’s renovated house had been lucky to feature. You faced each other, your foot currently being massaged by Joel’s rough but tender hands.

“Your voice ain’t that bad, ya know,” Joel gave you a playful smirk, his eyes so focused on yours you could nearly feel his love for you deep in your soul.

“Well it was enough to get you to notice me,” you agreed with a smirk. Joel shook his head, his smile growing bashful.

“I noticed you way before that, trust me.” There was the tiniest hint of shyness—something boyish in his voice that made your stomach flutter, the look in his eyes just the cherry on top. “Only had the guts to ask you out ‘cause I thought you were too drunk to remember it.”

You gasped a chuckle, shifting over to sit on his lap, placing your hands on either side of his face as his rested on your hips. “You were crazy for ever thinking there was a chance I’d reject you. You’re a hunk, Joel Miller.”

“A hunk, huh?” he teased, bringing his lips to the base of your throat and giving your skin a soft peck.

“Mmhm,” you confirmed in a hum, the best response you could muster. Joel hummed back as his lips sucked tiny marks down the front of your chest until he was slipping your nipple into his mouth, earning the sweet sound of your breathy moans.

You tossed your head back, your hips rolling on their own accord, the slick drag of your cunt along the underside of his cock earning you a muffled growl as he kissed his way over to your other breast.

“Need you,” you whispered as you reached back and gripped his cock, lining him up with your heat before sinking down until you were flush with one another. Joel’s hands squeezed tightly at the sudden sensation of being buried in your heat, his lips pulling away from your nipple with a lewd pop. You grinned as you kept yourself still on his cock, your thumb brushing his cheekbone as you gazed down at him with contentment. “Love you, Miller.”

“Love you too, Miss Houston,” he replied with a matching, cheeky smile, his hands sliding up the curve of your spine and back down, resting on the globes of your ass and squeezing.

You lifted your hips almost completely off of him and locked eyes with him as you sank back down, Joel’s head tipping back against the edge of the tub. He moaned soft and sweet for you, his hands holding your waist as you started to bounce on him, your stare never leaving his as you began to target the head of his cock at your g-spot. He reached one hand up to cup your jaw, his thumb resting on your lip practically begging for you to take it into your mouth, and so you did. With a cheeky grin, you wrapped your lips around it and gave it a suck, humming at the whimper the act caused.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised, his eyes then traveling from your face down your torso until he was watching you spear yourself with his cock underneath the surface of the water. “Shit. You should see how pretty your pussy looks takin’ me.”

“Joel,” his words forced you to whine, your eyes squeezing shut as the tingling heat building in your core started to trickle down your thighs and up your spine. “Touch me and make me cum for you.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.” His thumb found your clit, stroking imperfect circles over it as you started to bounce on him so hard he half-wondered if he might break you, but judging by your cries of praise, this was exactly how you wanted it. “God damn, darlin. Ridin’ me so good I—fuck—I’m gonna cum inside that pretty pussy.”

His free hand gripped your hip to leverage himself a bit as he met your bounces with sharp thrusts, the water splashing from over the edge of the tub but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about the wet floor with how close you both were to the edge.

“Shit, baby,” he growled, his neck straining as he tried to hold off his release until you hit yours. “Come on, gimme it. Lemme feel you—“

“Fuck!” you screamed as your climax hit you like a brick wall, your body collapsing forward into his arms. Joel held you tight as he pistoned into your still convulsing walls until every nerve in his body buzzed with the familiar feeling of euphoria, his cock pressing in deep as he spilled inside of you. His lips were pressed to your cheek, mumbling praise into your skin as your hearts raced in tandem, his hands stroking up and down the expanse of your back to ground you both.

“I love you, sweet thing,” he mumbled as he kissed his way to your lips, your head turning to meet him for a sweet, unhurried kiss. Joel pulled away with a chuckle, smiling at you before opening his lips to sing to you in his gruff but rich voice, “I have nothing if I don’t have you.”

“Sounds good when you sing it,” you mumbled, sleepy from the hot bath and hotter sex. Joel chuckled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to your temple.

“My favorite version’s always gonna be your drunken performance,” he husked back, bringing a smile to your face. “But I might be a little biased.”

“More than a little.” Joel laughed and nodded, squeezing you tighter.

“Oh well. Don’t care.”

[wileys-russo]

Ella Toone

“Jesus Christ love I didn’t know you could hit like that”

Rage room 🙂🔥

rage room II e.toone

"baby! i love ya so much but please hurry up." the mancunian groaned, twirling her keys around on her pointer finger. "el we are literally not booked in until three and it's only eleven thirty." you laughed at her impatience from the bedroom.

"yeah but we're gettin our nails done and then goin for lunch and then the rage room at three. we're on a tight schedule here woman chop chop!" the midfielder clapped, popping her head through the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

"sorry! i'll hurry up love." you made a point to bend down and lace your sneakers in slow motion, ella leaning against the door frame with a long and annoyed groan.

"i'm getting grey hairs here man." your girlfriend huffed with a shake of her head, smacking your hands away and kneeling down lacing up your shoes for you.

"sure babe you can borrow my jordans, thanks for askin." ella mocked sarcastically as you grinned. "sure love you can borrow my prada sunglasses, thanks for askin." you quipped back as the smile was wiped from her face.

"fair point. come on then!" she took your hand and pulled you to your feet. "baby!" ella moaned as you dug your heels in just to annoy her further, trudging slowly across the living room.

"you're such a fuckin wind up!"

~

"thank you for today el, its been perfect." you smiled sincerely, sat across from your girlfriend at your favorite japanese restaurant, leaning across and meeting her lips in a sweet kiss. "anything for you and that gorgeous smile baby." ella flirted charmingly as you shook your head.

"if only you were this smooth when you asked me out the first time." you teased as ella's cheeks flushed bright red. "you promised to stop bringin that up!" ella whined burying her face in her hands.

you'd transferred to united from bristol city two years ago and ella had been enamored by you from the moment you stepped foot into the locker room with a shy wave, a little taken aback by how forward and friendly the entire team was.

her best friends very quickly picking up on the developing crush she'd been relentlessly bullied into eventually asking you out on a date. though with half the team well aware of her feelings and the lingering fear of rejection she'd been a nervous wreck.

the words got jumbled up together and her attempt to ask you just for coffee wound up with her asking you to buy her a coffee and you leaving with a confused nod, showing up the next day with a flat white in hand for her and a very embarrassed number seven who hurried to correct what she'd meant.

"babe its a crucial part of our epic love story, i can't pretend it didn't happen." you grinned as your food arrived and you both thanked the server. "teach me please?" ella asked eagerly holding up the chopsticks in hand.

"el, love we tried this last time." you smiled sympathetically but unable to say no to her pleading eyes you walked her through it, the brunette eventually dropping them to the table with a clatter and a list of swear words dropped from her lips.

"fuck this." ella grumbled, snatching the fork you'd made sure to order for her and stabbing the california role before shoving it angrily into her mouth in one go.

"what?" she asked with a frown, mouth still full of sushi. "you know babe sometimes i miss when we weren't so comfortable around each other."

~

"so obviously the walls are off limits! they are cement though so i wouldn't recommend to hit them anyway because the shock of the bat hitting it could break your hand." the worker shrugged casually as you and your girlfriend shared a look.

"thats mostly everything. have fun ladies!" he shrugged, stepping out and closing the door as music filled the room. "ready baby?" ella grinned, moving forward and tugging your glasses down over your eyes.

"go!" ella cheered, swinging her bat at a stack of as you pumped your fists and the music got a little louder. you watched on with a grin as your girlfriend wreaked havoc, letting out a war cry and hauling a few plates at the wall.

"go on baby, your turn!" ella encouraged with a wave as you lifted your bat and swung at an old computer monitor barely knocking it over. "nah you can do better than that! think about that prick from ya old job, the one we used to scream into the pillows about!" ella remembered, clicking her fingers.

a sudden rage filling your body you let out a war cry of your own and swung at an old tv sending the glass screen flying in hundreds of tiny pieces around the room.

"jesus christ love i didn't know you could hit like that." ella whistled in shock. "baseball?" you gave her a wolfish grin holding up a mug as she perked up and readied her bat.

"ya know we should really bring mary here babe, she has a lot of rage."

[beatrixstonehill2]

Ashley and Jacklyn were two trans men who met online, in an Instagram group about fantasies involving detransition. Both were on T for a few years and strongly considered top surgery, but deep down they both had a different idea of what their futures looked like.... They met and chatted for a couple weeks, eventually moving in together, throwing out all of their boy clothes in favor of lingerie and other very girly clothes, embracing their bodies and becoming a couple of bimbos, doing porn for fun. They knew they just had to both get knocked up and sport the perfect bimbo body, with a belly carrying at least triplets for the summer. They didn't want any old porn actor to knock them up, so Ashley had an idea.....

Without telling her friend, Melody, that she detransitioned, she called and asked her to come by and visit her new boyfriend..... When Melody visited, she was shocked to see that Ashley completely detransed, and her 'boyfriend' was a buxom bimbo with a voice deepened by testosterone. Ashley told Jacklyn that Melody was her trans girl bff, and they've known each other since forever. Ashley walked up to Melody, giggling, telling her, "Mel, I know you had a crush on me. Before you went and transitioned into this fake girl, you were just another horny boy that stared at my chest, now look at you."

"I, um...... I don't know. We were young!" Melody said.

"God, look at his boy-tits. Jesus Christ they're fucking huge," Jacklyn said, groping Melody's breasts.

"I know.... almost makes him look like a girl." Ashley joined in, grabbing and kneading Melody's other breast.

"But just look at him, walking around in clothes like this, flaunting his cock." Jacklyn massaged Melody's noticeable bulge. "Fuck, it'd get so big if he stopped taking estrogen."

"I-I'd never do that...." Melody said, nervously letting Ashley and Jacklyn fondle her.

"Awww, come on, Mel," Ashley encouraged. "You're really telling me you don't want a massive cock to play with?"

"No! I could never detrans! I love being a girl...."

Jacklyn bit her her, stroking Melody's already sizeable cock. "You'd make such a pretty boy. Well, you already do, since you are a boy..... Girls don't have big hard cocks, dummy....."

"Guys....."

Ashley started fondling Melody's cock, too. "Man, these boy-tits and this cock. You have everything.... But I still say you ought to lose the boobs. Go on testosterone. Get this cock as big as possible."

"Guys, stop. I'm gonna cum...."

"Poor thing." Jacklyn pouted, massaging Melody's breast and cock harder. "So pathetic. It should be illegal for pervy boys like you to pretend to be girls..... I bet you jerk off in the girls' bathroom for fun, don't you?"

"N-No...." Melody looked away. "Well, sometimes....."

"Good little pervert!" Ashley said, slipping her hand into Melody's panties. "Go on, I know you have a crush on me. Doesn't matter that we both played dress up. I lived as a boy for years, yet I'm only a dumb breeder, and you? All the estrogen and makeup in the world can't stop you from being a perverted boy who's addicted to jerking off. It's your nature, darling...."

Melody came in her lingerie onesie, rolling back her eyes, shooting about three ropes of clear cum. "Fuck....."

"Awww, is that it? Hold on," Jacklyn said, returning a few second later. "Don't squirm, this won't hurt." She had grabbed one of her old syringes and filled it with some of her remaining testosterone.

Ashley giggled. "I thought we got rid of all that?"

"When you mentioned having a fake girl as a best friend, I figured we might need it....." Jacklyn injected Melody's hip full of T.

"No.....! Please!" Melody cooed, drooling lightly.

"Yes, my dear," Ashley said, turning Melody's head her way. "How's this? We're going to pump you full of T, get that cock over fifteen inches so you're hung like a horse, and you'll become our girly little boy-bitch? You'll get us pregnant, but only be allowed to cum when it's time to knock us up. We'll dress you like a perverted sissy still, but those big fat boy-tits have got to go. OK? You'll live with us, and answer to us. Are there any questions?"

Melody shook her head 'no'. "I'll..... be your perverted stud sissy...... you can use me however you please...... ❤️"

"I knew you had a crush on me after all these years. Now then, you need to practice on Jacklyn and I all day, learning to fuck like a boy, so you can get us nice and pregnant when that T kicks in, all right, slave?"

"Whatever you desire....."

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Honey, our boyfriend drowned!

Barbie dolls: jegulus x gn!reader

Word:5.1k

Summary: lemme set the scene: Regulus' car crashes into the lake on his drive to work most definitely killing him and then some mystique happens and I get too lazy to write actual plot but I add some sad and cute and JUST FUCKING READ IT ITS FUN AND NICE

Warnings: regulus dies (or does he mwhahaahha), lots.of talk of grief and death and blood and nasty and self hatred you and James are going through it, regulus with a cane and long hair, talks of the war but it's the tiniest mention, Barty has attachment issues, there is some cringe bc believe it or not Im cringey as a person so it just happens, regulus speaks Google translate French, James speaks Google translate Hindi, I had so much fun writing this.one and that's so stupid bc Its literally about death but it was a hoot, brotherly love, peter included SUCK MY DiCK OH MY GOD, oh James takes a picture OH and there's a cordless phone but I was personally thinking of the big clunky ones that sat on the wall you know, insinuations of the cave, Sirius says Jesus Christ in shock you say Gods no in shock yodabba dabba, everyone are friends I watched MLP okay everyone loves each other now, take a shot everytime I say warm, you cry, I quit

While you and James were in school, you started dating a boy named Regulus. He was beautiful and graceful. Your relationship continued outside the bounds of the school walls. Once you and James graduated you got a home and Regulus joined you both a year later when he graduated. Domestic life was wonderful for the three of you. And then Regulus died. 

It was hard to believe. How could your boyfriend disappear right out from under both of your noses? He left for work one day and didn’t come back. It was like the world paused after that. The walls wept with you both. The house seemed smaller and tighter because everywhere you looked were remnants of him. His books were on the shelf with his writing inside. His additions to the grocery list were still on the fridge. His fancy shoes for events sitting by the door. His winter coat is on the rack. You could still smell his cologne. Maybe that was because James would spray it on Regulus' pillow and clutch it to his chest while he slept. Your day together as a couple consisted of sitting on the couch in silence and staring ahead listening to the clock tick. 

His death put a strain on your relationship. You could barely take care of yourselves. How could you love another person when you could barely work up enough energy to cry? So you both floated around the house silently like you were the ones dead. You didn’t talk to James for weeks. 

Everyone around you seemed to take a hit from Regulus’ death. Evans and Barty became reclusive, you hadn’t heard from them in months.

Dorcas started bouncing around her friends’ homes, staying the night on a new person’s couch because she was scared to leave anyone alone. They’d slip from her grasp like Regulus did if she didn’t stay with them.

After a few weeks, Mary and Lily took on the role of caretaker. Bringing people dinners and shoving them into the shower so they’d bathe every once in and while.

Marlene tried to crack jokes with people, she was most definitely the kind of person to joke until her pain went away.

Pandora spent all her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window. You checked on her once and asked her how she was. She told you, without looking away from the window, ‘I had a premonition about this four years ago. It’s scarier in real life. I can’t just crawl into his bed and press my fingers to his pulse. I’m living in a nightmare.’ You sighed and patted her shoulder, leaving her with the wisest words you could muster: ‘Me too, Panda. Me too.’ 

Peter is in the nearest Library every day, reading all of Regulus’ favorites. He even came over a few times to borrow some of Regulus’ personal books.

Remus found a French cookbook and started making his way through it one recipe at a time as a way to get up and do something. He said he thought of Regulus with each dish and it made the pain recede like an ocean wave. 

Sirius took it the hardest, for obvious reasons. He laid on his couch all day, staring at the bookshelf next to the TV. Remus said he couldn’t convince Sirius to move to the bed. He’d only to get up to use the bathroom. Remus would have to sit next to the couch on the floor and feed him so he didn’t wither away. Remus eventually realized Sirius was staring at the picture of him and Regulus sitting on the shelf. After a long time, Sirius finally moved from the couch, instead taking his tears to his bed. You didn’t see Sirius for weeks. 

When Regulus’ funeral arrived it was obvious the impact he left. All 12 of you stared at the empty coffin as it settled into the ground. You didn’t even get the peace of knowing his body was resting in the coffin. They never found it. They found his car in the lake with a massive hole the size of his fancy car on the side of the bridge overhead. The police said his body probably drifted down the attached river into the woods. It was likely his body was scavenged by animals. It did nothing to settle your mind. 

Your lover drowned and then was torn apart by wild animals? Great, glad he’s resting peacefully. All of his things were in the car too. The book he was trying to finish during the month of the crash. His bag with his wallet and every other personal item you could think of. He even still had Pandora’s hair clip on the strap. His blood was on the seat and front windshield. Cops said it was impossible for him to have survived, especially with the amount of blood that was lost. He left for work, taking the route he always did, and died in the process. 

It took a long time but you all eventually healed from it. Of course, it still hurt when you were reminded of it but you slowly got back to your average life.

Sirius got off the couch. Dorcas slept in her own bed. Marlene finally cried. Lily and Mary started making food only for themselves. Remus put his cookbook on the shelf, next to the picture. Peter moved out of the libraries, finding new books. Barty and Evan even joined you and James on a double date once. Pandora moved away from the window. You and James stopped being zombies dancing around each other. You finally talked it through and cradled the other through the night, Regulus' pillow was shoved into the closet. 

You asked your friends for help to pack all of Regulus’ things into boxes. It was terribly hard to move on when his presence was still staring you in the eye. You told Sirius he could stay home but he still showed up. He helped you pack up Regulus’ clothes, taking back the band shirts Regulus stole from him. He even used one as a tissue when he cried about it.

With too many people in your house, you were all able to stuff Regulus into three separate boxes. Remus helped James move them into the attic. even though you wanted him hidden away in boxes didn’t mean you wanted to sell his presence away. You hugged everyone goodbye. It was a sour goodbye, the memory of Regulus’ loss fresh on their minds but happy they got to see all their friends again. 

You, along with all the others, had your good and bad days. You’d say an inside joke Regulus came up with and spend the rest of the day crying next to the window. Some days you’d blossom and be like you were years ago. As time went by your bad days became more and more far apart. You and James’ relationship was going strong, you felt like you were in school again. In a positive way. 

After a long brunch with Remus and Sirius full of laughs, you and James went home and relaxed. James left to go take a nap and you started reading by the window facing out towards the road that led to your doorstep. After you got through four chapters, James was rising from his nap and kissing you good morning. Though it was really more of a late afternoon, you didn’t correct him. He left to go make himself a snack, still in his pajamas. You continued reading.

As you heard the timer go off for James’ food you glanced up to see if he was getting it. You saw him through the opening, reaching over for the pot on the oven. You moved to look back at your book, pausing when you saw someone on the sidewalk. You were an avid enjoyer of people-watching. 

It was a man who left your boots feeling shaken. His hair was longer, reaching down to kiss his back between his shoulder blades. He walked with a limp. He was classily dressed. At the top of his cane was a bird skull. He was dressed in all black and had various silver jewelry hanging from his body. His hair was falling into his face as he stared at the ground. You glanced down at the ground to see his shoes, finding they were just as fancy and put together as he was. You looked back up at his hair, trying to see if you could figure out how he maintained it so perfectly.

As you dragged your eyes up, he shook his head back. His hair flew back revealing his scarred face. There was a scar parting his eyebrow and making a trail across his cheek to his ear. You saw one peeking out from the bottom of his jaw and dipping under his high-collared shirt. 

Even with all the changes you recognized him. You sprung out of your chair, flinging your book back towards the coffee table. You heard it clatter to the floor. 

“James! Call Sirius!” You yelled as you scattered towards the front door, knocking over items on your way. 

“What? Why?” James asked from the kitchen opening. You spun your head back towards him. You probably looked like a frazzled crazy person. You felt like a frazzled crazy person. You were either hallucinating or really watching your dead lover walk down the street. 

“Call Sirius, James.” You said, your tone nipping at his hand and making him turn around for the phone hanging in the kitchen. You flung open the front door, ignoring your shoes and the fact the door smacked against the wall.

You weren’t entirely sure Regulus, or at least what you thought was Regulus, wouldn’t run away if he saw you coming. You ran down the concrete steps and your driveway. You ignored the fire the rough ground started on the bottoms of your feet. James stood on front doorstep with the phone pressed to his ear. You caught snippets of his words as you moved to the end of the driveway, staring down the sidewalk. 

“I don’t know.” Your chest heaved as your mind caught up with what you were looking at. “Just said to call you.” You stared at the man in black walking down the center of the sidewalk. “Bein’ weird.” You saw the man stop his walking as you stood in his way. 

“Regulus?” You yelled. The man stood still. You took a step towards him. James had settled silent. “Regulus? Baby, is that you?” You yelled down the sidewalk. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of your neighbor's house, still staring at the ground. Hr pulled his head up, facing you. Even from a far distance, you could recognize him.

Your body started running before your brain could even tell you to. Regulus picked up his pace, a nice brisk walk. You doubted he could go much faster with his apparent hurt leg but you didn’t care. Your undead lover was on your sidewalk. You picked up your pace, letting your lungs burn. Your heart was burning more, the pain from knowing you’d never see Regulus mixing with the hope that he was really walking down your sidewalk. 

“Holy shit.” You heard James say from the first doorstep. “Listen uh, Sirius, I’m going to have to call you back. I think we might be hallucinating right now.” James said. You heard the quiet clatter of the phone on the table next to the front door. You and Regulus stopped with barely two feet between you too. Your chest heaved. You thought your ribs might explode.

Regulus was beautiful even with the scars and obvious dark experiences lingering behind his eyes. You couldn’t imagine what happened in the past year and a half but he was still Regulus after all this time. You felt like you shouldn’t cry because he might feel guilty and leave again. You closed the gap between you two, wrapping your arms around him. Regulus sighed with his chin pulled over your shoulder. You heard his cane drop to the sidewalk, his weight leaning into yours. 

You gripped the onto the back of his shirt, crying into his shoulder. Regulus held onto you just as hard. You felt James’ arms join yours, holding onto Regulus. After a few moments of Regulus finally feeling at home and you and James realizing you did all that crying for nothing, you all pulled back. Regulus wobbled a second, before leaning on his other side. James quickly dipped down and held Regulus’ cane out to him. Regulus thanked him, leaning his weight back on the cane. 

“You’re alive.” You said, sticking your hands your hands out at Regulus. He gave you a one-shouldered shrug. 

“There’s a lot I need to tell you,” Regulus muttered, glancing down at the cane. You shook your head, reaching out for him again. You let your hands cup his face. 

“Oh let me look at you.” You traced the scars on his face. You tugged lightly on the ends of his hair. You let your hands dip down, tracing over the necklaces. You looked down at the metal skull buckle on his belt, grinning at his fancy shoes again. Even after all the changes, he was still in his stupid shoes. 

“You’re so beautiful, my love. I can’t believe you’re alive.” You said, cupping his face again. Regulus hummed and tilted his face into your hand. You pulled back and let James pull Regulus into his arms. James cradled Regulus’ head to his chest just as he used to when Regulus got bad nightmares. Regulus let out a gasping sob, digging his nails into James’ forearm. James closed his eyes and pressed his nose to Regulus’ hair. 

  A few minutes later Regulus was sat at the table with his favorite tea hugged between his hands. You watched him from across the table, tracking his every move. It was weird looking at him. Aside from the fact you thought he was dead, it was a stark change.

You got to watch James slowly change parts of himself over the year. The wrinkles near his eyes got more prominent, he cut his hair, and he got new shoes, etcetera. You went from seeing Regulus with hair shorter than his chin to watching him flick it over his shoulder. You saw him with the clear and pristine skin he took pride in the scarred look he was sporting now. Regulus pursed his lips and blew on the hot tea in his hands before flicking his eyes up to you. You didn’t shy away from the fact you were staring at him. James wandered into the dining room his phone pressed to his ear. 

“No Sirius, I’m being ser-I’m being for real. You need to get over here now, you’re not going to believe this.” James said, leaning on the doorframe and staring at Regulus. Regulus stuck his hand out at James, wiggling his fingers. James raised an eyebrow ‘You sure?’. Regulus shook his hand, ‘yes.’. James handed the phone to Regulus. Regulus pressed the phone to his ear. He cleared his throat. 

“That coffin was uncomfortable, dickhead.” Regulus said before pulling the phone away from his ear and hanging it up. He set it on the table and took a slow sip from his tea. 

“I think you just gave him a heart attack,” James said. You hummed, staring down at the phone. 

“Yeah I’m not sure if that was the best action but it was a very Regulus thing for you to do so at least some things haven’t changed. “ You said, handing the phone off to James. Regulus closed his eyes as he pulled his tea away from his lips. 

Minutes later Sirius was bursting through your door with Remus tailing fast behind him. Sirius peered into each room, making haste to search the house. Regulus set his tea down. Sirius stood in the dining room doorway, frozen in place. Regulus stood from his chair, leaning on his cane and sighing as he did so. He tilted his head to the side, making a small spin to show off his new look. 

“Jesus Christ,” Sirius muttered. 

“that’s who he looks like, I was trying to place it,”  you said, sighing and smacking James’ bicep. Regulus faces Sirius again, holding his arm out. Sirius closed the space, pulling Regulus into a hug. They rocked side to side. You thought of shooing everyone out but you also wanted to watch Sirius’ reaction. Sirius pulled back and smacked Regulus on the crown of his head. Regulus glared at him, obviously, it wasn’t hard. 

“Don’t you ever do that again you dick,” Sirius said, before cupping Regulus’ face. He grimaced and shook his head. 

“You look like me in fourth year,” Sirius whispered, running his hand through the length of Regulus’ hair. Regulus hummed. 

“I thought so too. I missed home, so I grew it out. I plan on trimming it soon though, not really me.” Regulus whispered. Sirius hummed and traced the scar down Regulus’ eyebrow with his thumb. 

“What’d you do?” Sirius asked. 

“I ended a war before it started, the usual break year plans. I almost drowned and fought off some weird gremlin things. It’s a story.” Regulus said, waving off Sirius’ look of concern. “I’m fine now, other than the trauma I hold with water. But I managed to figure it out. I just take showers weird now.” Regulus added, once again downplaying the severity. 

“Well, your funeral was a waste of time,” Sirius said, turning back around to stand next to Remus. Regulus shrugged. 

“Did you guys cry?” You, James, Remus, and Sirius shared looks. You all shrugged. 

“Eh, not really.” 

“I mean what even classifies as crying these days, you know.” 

"So much I got dehydrated"

“After the first couple of days, it was a breeze.” Regulus rolled his eyes and pulled his tea off the table. 

“So did you guys sell all my shit?” He whispered into his cup. You and James quickly shook your heads. 

“Oh gods, no. It’s all in the attic.” You said, pointing at the ceiling above you. James and Remus left for the attic as you and Sirius chased after Regulus. Regulus took his tea from the dining room to the living room, setting it on the coffee table. You and Sirius stared at him as he settled onto the couch. Regulus propped his cane against the side table, taking a sip from his tea. Regulus lifted an eyebrow at the floor. He leaned over and held your book up. 

“Thought I taught you better than to throw books,” Regulus said, setting the book on the coffee table. You crossed your arms over your chest. You scoffed. 

“I was a little more focused on my undead lover walking into my garden.” You said. Regulus shrugged and gently set the book down on the coffee table. Regulus kicked his foot up, resting his ankle on his knee. James and Remus joined you with all three boxes. They were all labeled with a different form of his name, three different handwritings. Evan wrote R.A.B. in his swirly handwriting. Sirius had written Regulus in his pristine handwriting. You scribbled down Reggie on the top with an almost empty Sharpie. It looked like you didn’t care but you couldn’t bear to look at the boxes any more than you had to. 

Regulus leaned forward, tearing open the nearest box. He started rummaging through it and you wished Evan was here. You couldn’t fold things as perfectly as he could. Regulus pulled out his favorite stuffed animal, setting it on the couch next to him. He closed the box, reaching for the next one. He tore it open just as fast. He pulled out his favorite blanket and book. Regulus threw the blanket next to his stuffed animal. He set the book on the coffee table and as you watched him close up the box again, you sucked in a shaky breath. Regulus lifted his head, looking at you. You turned into James’ arms. James tightened his hold. You hated to get James’ shirt dirty but watching Regulue tear through the boxes you were sure you’d never touch again made your throat close up. 

“Sorry did I do something?” You heard Rehgulus’ voice behind you. James’ hand ran up and down your back. You felt SIrius’ hand land on your shoulder. 

“No, we’re just processing, I think. Lots of changes today.” James said, rocking you back and forth. Sirius took on the role of changing the subject so you still had a little bit of dignity. 

“We need to call the others. I mean this is a big change we’ll have to get every-“ Regulus cut off Sirius. 

“Listen, I know okay. I know, but I haven’t felt at home in over a year. I just want to spend today here. Tomorrow I will tell everyone of my resurrection but right now I just want a nap. You and Remus can stay if you want, I really don’t care. As long as I get a nap on the couch, I’m okay. I will gather everyone tomorrow but today is just..” Regulus sighed, a visible weight lifting from his shoulders. “Just for me. Is that okay?” Regulus asked. Sirius stayed silent a moment. He glanced around the living room. He shrugged, looking back at Regulus. 

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Regulus slipped his shoes off, setting them next to his cane, and laid across the couch. You pulled back from James, wiping at your eyes. You headed off for the bedroom, tearing open the closet. You pulled down Regulus’ pillow and brought it back to the living room. Regulus gave you a soft smile and gently took the pillow from your hands. He set it down before quickly sandwiching your hands between his. He was warm, not cold like a dead body. Maybe he was real. Regulus stared up at you. 

“I learned how to cook traditional French dishes,” Remus said, picking at one of the boxes. Regulus hummed. He was on the brink of sleep but still wanted Remus to feel heard. “You should come over for dinner some night.” Regulus nodded against his pillow. Remus left after SIrius and not long after you heard SIrius’ motorcycle fade away. You imagined Remus’ long legs cramped behind Sirius on the back of his bike and snorted.��

“I love you, you know that? Every day I wasn’t here I worried for you. I missed you so much I’d feel sick. I’m sorry I left like that.” Regulus said. Your eyebrows pinched and you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, trying your hardest to not cry again. You nodded. Regulus hummed and pressed your palm to his lips. You sighed and rubbed his cheek lightly. He dropped your hands and laid back on the couch, now with his pillow propped behind his head.

Regulus turned onto his side, clutching his stuffed animal to his chest. He pulled his blanket up to his nose. Sirius stood next to Regulus, brushing hair out of his face and gently rubbing his cheek before roughly smacking him and messing up his hair again. Regulus groaned and swatted his hands away. Sirius pulled back and slipped out the front door. 

“Mon Soleil?” Regulus whispered into his blanket. You glanced at James, watching his water line fill. 

“छोटा राजा?”  James whispered, his voice fragile. You looked back to Regulus. His eyes were still closed. 

When James heard Regulus’ snores next to his ear he slid the bookmark into their place and set it on the coffee table. James leaned his head back, resting it on the couch armrest. You sighed, watching Regulus sleep peacefully. 

“Read to me?” Regulus asked. James nodded and grabbed the book Regulus pulled from the box off the coffee table. James sat on the floor next to where Regulus head was on the couch. He opened the book to the page they left off last time, and you felt like James might cry. He started reading and as he went on you started to wish Regulus had given you a task too. You were just standing there watching them. You quietly joined James on the floor. You sat a foot and a half away from James. He paused his sentence for a second to look up at you and give you a soft smile. You returned it and slipped a hand under Regulus’ blanket. It probably smelled like the attic but Regulus didn’t seem to care, snoozing away. You rested your hand on his hip, lightly rubbing it before getting your hand to sit. You wished to hold his hand but one was clutching his stuffed animal and the other was pressing his blanket to his face. 

“I don’t think we’ll be getting much sleep tonight.” You whispered, not wanting to wake up Regulus. James turned his head to face you. He reached over and held onto your other hand, kissing the back. He nodded and looked over towards the wall. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t go to sleep because when we wake up, the boxes will be back in the attic. Sirius will be back on the couch and we’ll be sitting on the bed sobbing together.”James whispered. You humed. You slipped your thumb under the edge of Regulus’ shirt, pressing your finger into his warm skin. 

“He won’t be warm anymore.” You muttered, eyes still caught on Regulus. James’ thumb rubbed against the back of your hand. You wondered if he was testing to see if you were warm still. 

“We’ll visit his grave on Wednesday together and wonder if those wild animals were well fed. If it was all worth it. Stare down at the dirt and know six feet under is an empty wooden box with nothing but a copy of Regulus’ favorite poetry book inside.” James’ voice wobbled and you gripped his hand tighter. 

“I thought every day that I would wake up and it’d all be a nightmare. I was just dreaming. All those crime shows got to me and my brain inserted me into an episode while I was sleeping. Every morning I’d wake up to find out we were still planning his funeral. I thought I was dead for a while. Thought this was my punishment for not recycling enough or something.” You said, pressing your thumb further into Regulus’ skin. Not to hurt him, but you needed to feel his pulse. 

“I can’t go back there,” James whispered. 

“Then maybe we go to sleep tonight. Maybe we’ll wake up and he’ll be in bed with us.” You said giving the side of James' face a sour smile. 

“Then we start again. We heal again.” James gave you a sad look and stared ahead again. You decided to lighten the mood a little. “And we had a freaky joint dream.” James snorted. He sniffed and stared down at his lap. He kissed the back of your hand again. You focused on Regulus’ skin under your finger. Still warm. 

“And if we wake up to find ourselves right back where we started? What then?” James asked, turning his head to face you. You paused for a moment and let his words stir in your head. You thought about getting thrown right back into that dark and messy place.

You didn’t take showers unless Mary forced you and you hated yourself for everything you did. Why didn’t you stop Regulus and tell him to stay home that day? Why didn’t you drive him to work yourself? Why didn’t you deviate from your routine, anything to save Regulus’ life? And when you got over what ifs that could’ve stopped this all from happening, then you hated yourself for not helping James more. Why couldn’t you take care of him? His parents called every day and he could barely pull himself out of bed to answer the phone. You couldn’t look away from the floor to pick the phone up. You picked apart yourself with sharp nails and then let your pieces rot into something awful that barely resembled yourself anymore. All in the name of grief. 

“So sorry to break up such a sweet moment, however I am trying to sleep. So if you two could shut up: that’d be preferable. “ You heard Regulus say. James turned his head back, glancing at Regulus. He looked back at you. 

“Seems pretty real to me.” You whispered. 

Regulus stayed true to his word, calling every one of your friends to your home. When he joined them in the living room there were screams and cries and most definitely noise complaints from the neighbors. Barty fell to his knees, taking Regulus down with him, and sobbed into his hair. He was an ugly crier too, saliva connecting his two lips when he opened his mouth in a silent cry.

Dorcas and Evan were quick to join them on the floor, wrapping Regulus up in a sea of arms. Probably the first body of water he felt comfortable in a while.

Eventually, Regulus made it to his feet, giving everyone their own hug. Peter told him he had books he found that Regulus would enjoy. Mary smacked him on the back of the head and told him to brighten the fuck up before dragging him into a tight hug. Lily told him she had a new bread recipe she’d been meaning to try. Marlene cracked a stupid joke through her tears and lightly punched Regulus in the arm. Regulus made it to Pandora and she pulled him to her chest, squeezing him as tight as she could. 

“I didn’t see this.” She whispered in his hair. Regulus gripped her back just as tight.

You all had a warm dinner made by Remus and Lily. Regulus and Sirius share a nostalgic look after the first bite. You didn’t have a big enough table so you all crowded into the living room, gathering around the rug. Regulus earned a spot on the couch. Barty was at his feet, arms wrapped around Regulus’ leg.

James shot up halfway through dinner, dashing across the house. He came back with his camera. He took one shot of everyone in the living room before turning the camera around and squeezing himself into frame too. He labeled them both ‘Regulus’ first family dinner back’ on the backs. He added the date and set the camera and photos on the kitchen counter deciding to deal with them later.

On his way back into the living room, he kissed you before pecking Regulus on the cheek. As he settled back into his seat on the floor, the group broke into ruckus laughter from a joke Sirius made. Sirius beamed and your and James’ eyes shot for Regulus. You found him snorting out his tea through his nose. His pain, disgust, and laughter all conjoined and you knew when you woke up tomorrow, he’d once again be in your bed. Warm. 

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 5

I don’t know why this fic wrecked me so much. I’m literally the author. I know what’s gonna happen. I decided what’s gonna happen. Maybe I’m just tired. also does anyone remember that time I said I hated writing chaptered fics and swearing that each one was an anomaly/the last time I’d ever do it?

table of contents you’re still everything to me

Jamie Tartt is in your kitchen, puttering around so he can make a pot of tea and with an eyebrow slit like it’s 2013 again.

He sent you to go change so you slip on sweatpants and curl up on the sofa.

“Here you are, love,” he says, setting the tea down on the coffee table. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, a respectable distance away.

“Why didn’t I see you?” you ask, staring out the window. The room is illuminated by the streetlight glow from the kitchen.

“How d’you mean?” responds.

“I visited mum last year. I was there all day. Why didn’t I see you?”

Jamie pauses. “I went early.”

“No, no you didn’t. There weren’t any flowers when I got there, and you said you brought her flowers.”

He’s quiet long enough for you to turn and check if he’s even still in the room.

He is.

“I… saw you,” he says eventually. “Didn’t think we’d be there at the same time, but-” he raises an eyebrow as punctuation. “Anyway, I was behind a tree. Saw you sit down and at first I thought I’d just wait in the car, but you started crying and- and I didn’t know if I should say somethin’ or leave. Did neither, so I just stayed. Placed the flowers and paid my respects once you left.”

You sip your tea in silence.

After a long time you say, “I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”

“She always believed in me,” he says by way of reply. “Even when I was being a little shit, she still made me feel like she wanted me around. Three people I want to make proud the most were her, mummy, and you.”

“Wanted,” you correct. “Wanted to make proud. Mum’s gone, and we’re not even friends.”

“D’you think we ever could be?”

You consider. There’s a part of you that feels like you’re friends already. He’s in your flat for fuck’s sake. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly I don’t. I’ve only ever loved you, Jamie, and for a long time I couldn’t see the future without you. I still can’t see it, I’m just living day-by-day sometimes.”

He chews his lip. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s asking all the hard questions tonight.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you say frankly. “You were there for me when I needed you, and you leaving me was the worst. But it turned out good. And, I dunno, over the last few days I just keep wondering what’s gonna stop you from leaving again? Deciding you want someone else more, or my value means less?”

“Maturity.” He says it slightly drawn out, enunciating the consonants. He has a hint of a smile, which is stupid, because now you have one too.

“Seriously, though, I’m not like that anymore. Went of, was a prick, and it were shit. I’ve never heard mum that mad at me, Jesus Christ. Swore my ear off, she did. Didn’t have real friends, wasn’t happy, drank a lot of vanilla vodka. Keeley broke up with me for cheating on her, too, but not with sex, like; just on a date. Said shit about accountability.” 

He says it the same way he said maturity. 

“Hm,” you say. What else is there to say, really?

“Hm,” you say again as you reach to set your tea down and move to the other end of the couch so you’re pressed up against Jamie’s side.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Stay the night?” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone and I have a guest bed.” 

Jamie nods.

—

It’s 3am, and you wake up with the sound of your mum saying your name still echoing in your room. You’d been dreaming, showing her the life you’d created and she’d smiled the whole time. She wasn’t wispy, she was the same mum who kicked a football with Jamie, sang horribly off-key with Simon, and convinced Georgie to even give him a chance in the first place. 

Tears pool in the corner of your eye.

I am not drowning. I can do this.

There’s a light tap on the door. “Come in,” you croak.

Jamie pushes it open and sticks his head in. “You’re crying,” he states. “Woke up a minute ago feeling shitty.”

You pat the bed and roll over.

Jamie climbs in under the covers and reaches tentatively for your hand. You let him take it.

“Just because I’m emotionally fragile does not mean that I forgive you,” you tell him tearfully. “I’m just pretending you never left and everything’s fine so I’m not going to hate myself for letting you into my room and letting you see me cry.”

“Alright,” he whispers. “C’mere. We’ll forget about it in the morning.”

You both move closer under the covers. You blame sleep and grief for the kiss you press to his clavicle, and you’re sure you’re dreaming they way he murmured, “How the fuck did I ever leave you?”

—

Jamie is true to his word. He doesn’t say a word when you wake up, just extricates himself from your hold and goes downstairs.

“I’ll be here for today,” he tells you once you drag yourself out of bed. “After that, you can decide how you feel about me. You don’t have to think about it today.”

It’s a four-hour drive to Manchester, and you’re not sure when it was decided that a) Jamie was coming with you, or b) that he’d be the one driving. He stops to pick up breakfast and coffee and doesn’t say a word about eating in his fancy car. You stare out the window and let the music playing over the speakers flow over you. It’s still raining, less than last night but still heavily. 

You grip Jamie’s hand with white knuckles and cry, truly cry in a way you only allow once a year but this time, there’s a new component.

I could’ve had this, you think. You and Jamie, together.

Something new tugs at your chest and you turn to look at Jamie. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he’s sniffling a but, trying not to let it show. 

You readjust in your seat so you’re leaning against his arm, and he tilts his head to rest on yours for a fraction of a moment. 

—

Your mum’s place is the same as it always is. Her name, printed in rounded letters. The dates, signifying that she did not spend enough time here. You place down your blanket and sit, back against the headstone as usual with your head tilted up to the sky. Jamie stands a good distance away, just watching with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Hi mum,” you begin, voice cracking. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t get up here much. But that’s what kids do, right? Leave the nest and only visit on holidays. 

Things are going well still. I’ve gotten offers for collabs with some brands, so I guess that’s cool. Jamie’s here, he’s by the tree though. I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it, mum. I wish you were here. You always saw things clearer than any of us, and I just don’t know. Turns out I didn’t ever stop loving him. Keeley thinks we have this weird cosmic connection or something. Do you believe in that? I think you might have. 

I- I think we’re going to see Georgie and Simon after this. I don’t really know. I haven’t been thinking straight today, you know. I just miss you.  I want to hug you again and I promise I’m okay on my own, it’s just hard sometimes. I thought- I thought-”

You’re unable to get the rest of the words out. It’s fucking sunny out and it feels wrong, like the world should remember this is a day to mourn a soul who should’ve been around longer. The sky should at least have the decency to cry along with you. 

A hand touches your face to wipe away a tear. You wrap your arms around Jamie’s neck and he just holds you for a minute, an hour, a year. Time might be passing but you’re unaware of it. He’s whispering in your ear, saying, “I’ve got you, it’s alright love, take as much time as you need,” but it’s only sounds to you. Sweet sounds, but not comprehensible words. 

It’s safe, here. It shouldn’t be, here on your mother’s grave with your cheating ex-boyfriend in your arms, but it doesn’t feel like that. 

It feels more like you’ve finally arrived home after years of travel. 

Jamie feels the same as he did before he made it to the Premier League, back when he’d nick flowers from a garden and climb through your window late at night, not like the prideful boy who broke your heart in five minutes over the phone. 

“I’m here as long as you need,” he murmurs, and you believe him. 

You pull away slightly to look him in the face. “I love you,” you say. 

He smiles, but only with his eyes as he swipes a thumb under your eye. “I love you too,” he says. “Don’t think I ever really stopped.”

It’s at that exact moment that the sun disappears behind a cloud and it begins to rain. 

table of contents

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter seven

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Fuck it, here's chapter 7 since the previous post was technically just an interlude! Once again I'm basically begging for comments/ messages/ any interaction other than just likes because I'm greedy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.5k

All she had was an eager cop, a detective, and the detective’s vigilante best friend. 

She hoped it would be enough.

Y/n knew that boredom would be her worst enemy, so she downloaded a police scanner app and listened to it almost religiously while she worked. The constant stream of voices helped keep the grief at bay and helped her focus. 

To her surprise, the cops seemed to want Batman around. There were a couple of calls those first couple of days–an armed robbery and a creep taking pictures through a window–where the officers mentioned him by name. He’d stopped the armed robbery before the cops got there and also caught the peeping Tom. One cop grumbled on the radio how all their work was being taken by some guy in a costume. The rest of them jumped to Batman's defense, saying there was more than enough crime to go around. “Besides,” one chuckled. “I wouldn't want to be the one to catch some creep with his dick out.” 

Y/n was almost pleased to hear the good relationship the vigilante had with GCPD. She wondered how much Gordon had to do with that. She made a few notes of their comments for her article, because it was definitely interesting to see that a city wanted a guy who operated outside the law around. 

It was a few nights before an interesting call came through. 

A witness reported a woman being shot. A young woman. The details were sparse but it was enough to pique her interest.

Y/n couldn’t say what it was that had her dressing warmly and grabbing her camera and phone. Stupidity, definitely. But it was one of those moments where she felt in her gut that something was happening, something related to her case.

Pepper spray clutched in one hand and camera in the other, she left the safety of Wayne Tower. Every shadow made her jump. She called a cab to take her to the crime scene–or at least as close as she could get. It was practically on the other side of the city and she definitely didn’t want to chance walking alone at night in Gotham. 

They were stopped two blocks from the scene, so she got out and peered around. It looked like the actual crime scene was on the other side of an apartment building to her right, but that alley was blocked off as was the street in front of her. So she walked a little further down to the next connecting alley to get to one street over. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Shit!” She screamed. She whirled and swung her arm up to use the mace, but her wrist was quickly caught in an iron grip. She tried to scramble away and almost fell when the hand suddenly released her.

Her heart only slightly calmed when she saw who it was. 

The Batman. 

She pressed her knuckles to her chest. Her heart was jumping out of her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ. What are you doing here?” 

He watched her passively, half in the shadows. He had stepped away as soon as he let her go. “I asked first.” 

She closed her eyes for a beat and inhaled a steadying breath. “Probably the same thing you’re doing here.” She shrugged. Her pulse was still racing but she knew she was safe now. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And besides, there were about a million cops just around the corner. If she screamed, they would come. 

“It’s too dangerous,” he growled. He took a half-step forward, like he would grab her again. 

She held up the pepper spray. “Not afraid to use this on you, buddy. Besides, you’re here now to keep me safe. And the other fifty cops out there.” 

He stopped. His eyes narrowed. She wanted to get closer, see what color they were, help narrow down who might be underneath the mask. 

“Fine, let’s go.” He started to walk past her, towards the blue and red lights at the end of the alley. 

She blinked in surprise. “That was easy.” 

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Only because you’re going to do what you want to do. At least this way I can keep an eye out for you.” 

She grinned and winked. “You’re learning already.” 

They walked down the alley together, her shadowy protector moving to stay one step behind her like a bodyguard. 

At the end of the alley, the world was leached of color in the whirling red and blue lights, the flashes timed almost perfectly to the beat of her heart. She snapped a quick wide picture. She could see the area cordoned off with bright yellow tape. 

“Well, of all the officers in all of Gotham,” she said pleasantly when she spied Martinez keeping onlookers away from the crime scene tape. 

Officer Martinez’s young face brightened when he saw her, then changed comically fast when he peered over her shoulder. She could feel the Batman’s presence at her back, looming over her. 

“She’s with me,” the vigilante said. Martinez sighed but held up the tape to let them under. She sensed there was a story between them and itched to find out what it was. 

“If either of you touch anything…” Martinez grumbled. “It’s my neck.” 

Y/n flashed him her most winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the big guy in line.” Martinez grinned back. 

“So Martinez doesn’t like you, huh?” she asked the vigilante.

He ignored her. 

The air around them was humid, wet. It must have rained earlier, like most nights in Gotham. A few cop cars were leaving already. She wondered what had brought on the intense response. Her stomach tightened as they approached another alley. Gordon was talking to a young guy, late teens to early twenties, taking notes on a small notepad as the guy wiped at his face. 

Y/n quickly fumbled for her phone and set it to record. She wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Except for, well, the whole leaving Wayne Tower late at night while a murderer might be after her mistake she’d already made. She snapped another sneaky picture of Gordon and the young man. 

She caught Batman watching her and arched an eyebrow as if daring him to say anything. 

He simply turned away and said, “Gordon.” 

“Thank you,” Gordon said to who she assumed was a witness. “We’ll be in touch.” 

The guy hurried off, shoulders hunched, his face almost green. 

Gordon turned, saw her, and sighed. “I would ask, but…”

She winked. “You’re both learning so quickly. I’m proud.” 

“What happened?” Batman asked, all business. Y/n glanced past Gordon and saw a body covered in a sheet. The medical examiner was unzipping a body bag, about to transport it. 

The detective’s attention turned to the vigilante. “Single gunshot to the head at close range. Woman in her thirties walking home from work. Guy heard the gunshots and came running. Said he didn’t see the shooter but immediately called it in. Unfortunately, his dinner has…contaminated part of the scene.” 

While they were talking, y/n quietly lifted her camera and started taking pictures. 

The medical examiner lifted the sheet. She took another picture but paused. 

She took a shaky step back and bumped into something. Gloved hands steadied her by her elbows. 

“Oh,” Batman said softly. He put it together quicker than she had. Her brain was scrambling to keep up. The girl on the ground was a bloody mess, face down, legs sprawled like she’d tried to run. She was wearing a similar outfit to y/n–leggings, sweater, running shoes. 

But that wasn’t where the similarities ended. 

The height, the body shape, the hair color, even the shade of her skin…

The woman looked like y/n. 

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Batman gently squeezed her elbows. 

“Shit,” Gordon said. He must not have seen the body when he first arrived on the scene. 

“Don’t look,” Batman said in her ear, pulling her away, his voice conjuring–of all people–Bruce Wayne. It was just her mind reaching for something familiar, comfortable, safe. She shook the thought away. The vigilante turned her around and held her close. “Don’t look,” he said again. 

She closed her eyes against the wave of emotion. Her stomach swooped dangerously. She’d seen a dead body or two before but not–not like this. 

“Guess we have confirmation, then,” Gordon said softly. She didn’t have to ask what confirmation they had. She knew already, her gut telling her what exactly had happened despite its churning. 

Someone had killed that woman because it looked like her. 

They knew what she looked like. They knew well enough to kill someone even with the chance it might not be her. 

Which meant they were desperate and that it was only a matter of time before they found her. 

“Come on, you need to get out of here,” Gordon said, and this time he had her by the arm. He pulled her along, the vigilante cutting a path through the crowd before them. 

Her mind was blank. The shock of seeing a body, of imaging her own in its place, had wiped everything clean. She didn’t protest as Gordon bundled her into the passenger seat of his car. At least he didn’t put me in the back like a criminal, she thought almost deliriously. 

Batman stood in the open door, staring down at her. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there but now he was filling her vision. Her eyes traced the planes of his armor, wondering what he looked like underneath, who he was. There were dings and scrapes in places, physical memories of past fights. 

“I’m going to find who did this,” he said. His voice pitched impossibly lower. “And keep an eye out for you.” 

This made her snap out of it. “You can’t be in two places at once.” He had black paint around his eyes. She hadn’t noticed before. 

The barest smirk on his lips as he looked away. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were in the darkness of the night. “You don’t know that for sure.” 

She snorted. “You’re right. Maybe you’re some sort of mutant freak. Besides dressing like a bat, you know.” Despite the joking, her hands shook. She tucked them between her thighs. 

“Listen,” he said, serious again. There was a note of steel in the word. His voice was so low she could feel it as a vibration on her skin. “Stop sneaking out at night. It��s too dangerous.” 

She nodded vaguely but didn’t actually make the promise. If they wanted her dead, Wayne Tower wasn’t going to stop them. Slow them down, maybe, but not stop them. She needed to put the puzzle pieces together, and fast. They were getting closer to figuring out who she was, but she and Gordon and even the Batman only vaguely knew who they were dealing with. They needed to even the score. 

“Then give me your phone number so you can be my bodyguard,” she said. She was half teasing. 

The Batman seemed to consider it. Her eyes went past him as the gurney passed with the body on it. She shuddered and he stepped to block her view. 

“If you have to leave, let Gordon know and one of us will come. But only if you have to.” 

“Right,” she scoffed. “You’re allergic to texting.” And probably don’t want a reporter having your phone number, she silently added. 

Batman stepped back and then Gordon was there. He put one hand on the top of the car and leaned in, expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I’m taking you straight home and you’re going to stay there, alright?” 

She waved a hand but nodded. Satisfied, he shut the passenger door. She could hear muffled voices as he said something to Batman. Probably berating him for bringing her to the crime scene in the first place. Or telling him something he didn’t want her to hear. 

Within a couple of minutes, Gordon was sliding behind the wheel. 

“How’d you even know where to go?” he asked as they drove. 

“Police scanner app.” 

He glanced over at her. “I hate those things,” he muttered. “What happened to quid pro quo? I would have called you.” 

She bit her lip and shrugged. “I can’t just sit around waiting for someone to shoot me in the head.” She shivered at the image she now had of what, exactly, that looked like. 

“So you’re going to take yourself right to their doorstep instead?” 

“With the way my luck is going lately, it’s only a matter of time anyway. Might as well get as much done as I can first.” She hated to be so casual about it, but she had had really shit luck lately. There was no use hiding from it. If she didn’t leave Wayne Tower, they would probably find a way to break in. Or send a sniper after her. She thought about the times she’d leaned against the windows in the study and a chill went up her spine. 

“All you’ve done is traumatize yourself and give me a headache,” he said around a sigh. He really did sound like a tired dad half the time, she mused. She leaned her head back and watched the dark streets of Gotham pass by. She was reminded of another night in Gotham, years ago, on the back of a motorcycle with Bruce. 

She pushed the memory away and said, “I’ll pay for a bottle of ibuprofen.” 

Gordon laughed softly. “Listen, I know you reporter types are always rushing into danger, but this is your life. Can’t write the story if you’re dead. Text me if you have to go anywhere, and either I’ll come or send someone I trust.” 

“Okay,” she said. “But if it takes too long I might leave anyway.” She smiled so he would know she was at least partially kidding. “Have you learned anything new?” 

Gordon was silent for so long she knew it was bad news. He parked right in front of Wayne Tower–illegally, she might add. 

He turned to face her, his hands idly resting on his knees. “It’s definitely the Gallo family. And another of the suspects we caught is dead. Apparent suicide, but we aren’t so sure. The third one is under around the clock protection, but…”  

“Shit,” she said. Now she was the one with a headache. “That is…bad.” 

“Can you see why I want you to stay home now?” he asked pleadingly. “Like it or not, I’m responsible for keeping you alive. If we can catch the last guy and get him and the other to trial…you’re an important witness. The only witness.” 

“Aw, and here I was thinking you were starting to like me.”

A tightening at the corners of his mouth told her he was trying not to smile. “Let me walk you upstairs.” 

“Do you see all the security in there? I’ll be fine.” She gestured towards the lobby. It definitely looked more like a swanky prison these days, even at night when no employees were in the lower floors of the building. 

“I wanted to see if I could talk to Bruce Wayne.” 

Y/n did a double take. Just the sound of his name made her stomach tighten almost painfully. “Why? To tattle on me? Bruce Wayne is not my keeper. He’s not my anything.” She immediately bit her tongue. She’d said too much with that last sentence, let too much of her hurt and bitterness in. 

“I want to talk to him about his security, see if we can bolster it with our officers somehow.” Gordon was already up and out of the car. She scrambled to keep up, briefly getting caught in her seatbelt before yanking it off and hopping out. 

Gordon flashed his badge to the security. They all relaxed not at seeing it, but at seeing y/n. 

“You better talk to Alfred then, if he’s awake. He’s more in charge of that stuff than Bruce. He’s with me, it’s fine.” She said the last part to the concerned security guard–the new one whose name she still hadn’t learned, the one who had called the police for her the night she’d witnessed the murders. He was in charge of the night shift security, apparently. She wondered if he resented being the only guy at the desk at night to having a whole team around. Or maybe it was less lonely. 

Gordon followed her into the private residential elevator. “Be that as it may, I’d like to speak to Mr. Wayne too.” 

She sighed but hit the button to take them up to the residential part of Wayne Tower. “You really sound like a dad,” she muttered under her breath. 

Gordon cut his eyes at her then smiled. 

The elevators opened, and there was Alfred, already dressed and waiting. Security must have called up, warning him the detective was coming. Had he even gone to bed? She was starting to think that Alfred might be nocturnal. Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all. That was new–she and Bruce had gotten in trouble many times when they were younger for interrupting his precious sleep. These days he always seemed to be dressed impeccably, even late at night. 

“Detective,” Alfred said pleasantly. He briefly narrowed his eyes at her. “How can I help you?” 

Y/n idly scuffed her foot against the floor, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. She had always been caught either sneaking out or sneaking back in. Alfred had a knack for it. Or maybe she wasn’t as good as Bruce had been, who had been caught only twice that she could remember. 

Gordon nodded politely. “Is Mr. Wayne feeling better? I’d like to talk to the both of you.” 

“I would like to add here that it’s not sneaking out if I’m a grown woman,” y/n said helpfully. 

Alfred’s eyes narrowed again before he turned his focus back to Gordon. “Mr. Wayne is out.” 

Now y/n was narrowing her eyes at Alfred. He caught her looking. She raised one eyebrow. Was he street racing again? She remembered the bruises on his knuckles. Or part of an illegal fight club? Neither would surprise her. 

Another thought struck and stole her breath. 

Maybe Bruce had a girlfriend. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Gordon asked. His tone was carefully neutral. 

“Well, as I was just told, the rules are different for grown men–and women. He comes and goes as he pleases and rarely includes me in his plans.” Alfred was being too professional with it. His tone was too flat. Oh yeah, Bruce was definitely up to something, and Alfred definitely knew exactly what it was. Fuck, she thought desperately. She couldn’t breathe. Alfred would know if Bruce had a girlfriend and he knew her well enough to hide it from her. 

Why did the thought of Bruce with another woman hurt so much, even three years later? I don’t love you and I never will, he had said that night. 

Which meant he was perfectly capable of loving someone else. 

Y/n bit her lip until the pain made the panic recede. 

“Of course,” Gordon said in an equally flat, professional tone. “I wanted to chat about security measures. There was another murder tonight, and while I can’t give details of an ongoing investigation…it definitely seems like y/n is a target.” 

She cringed, remembering how eerily similar the body had been to hers. Who had the woman been? She hadn’t gotten a name, an age. But she felt like she should know these things if the woman had died in her place. What if she was only the first? Would they kill every woman who looked close enough to y/n before they caught her?

Alfred blinked in surprise, the professional facade slipping. “I–of course, let’s go into my office.” 

Y/n wanted to go with them but decided against it. It really would be smarter to listen to Gordon. If she needed to leave, she would get an escort, even if it was Alfred. He may walk with a cane but she knew he was secretly pretty spry. He’d been a spy or soldier or something in his younger years, before coming to work for the Waynes. 

“Goodnight, Alfred,” she said, taking a half-step towards the hall that led to her room. “And thanks, Gordon.” 

They both nodded and bid her goodnight before disappearing towards the study. 

Y/n waited a second then darted to the elevator. The other elevator. Bruce’s. 

She didn’t really have a plan other than to see with her own two eyes that Bruce was gone and not just hiding. 

She hit the button for what was once the garage and again, nothing happened. She frowned at it and hit it several more times. Still nothing. 

What if Bruce was down there with a woman, showing her his cars? Or–She shut the thought down and mashed the button one more time, knowing it was futile. 

With a curse, she stepped back out. 

Fine, she would go to bed and leave Bruce alone. It didn’t matter if he was wrecking illegally souped up cars or beating someone’s face in and following the first rule of fight club. It didn’t matter if he was with a woman he might love more than he ever loved her. 

It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Except, as much as she hated to admit it, he did.

Next Chapter

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[withahappyrefrain]

this one is so cute! 🍂🍁🍃

A stands in a queue when they notice a leaf stuck in the hair/on the clothes of the person in front of them. They offer to remove it for them.

for bob and maeve?

AHHHH so excited to start writing for these two! And of course I had to bring in Bradley and Birdie! ❤️❤️ Enjoy!

Fall in San Diego was different. By the time October started rolling, the average temperature had cooled down to a ‘crisp’ seventy degrees. Chunky sweaters were traded in for light cardigans. Sure, you could wear a scarf, but not a functional one. Gone were the days of needing gloves.

It was a stark difference from the east coast.

Gone was the scenic view of mountains and orchards. In its place were micro-breweries and overpriced wineries. But also gone was a shitty ex husband. In its place, the unknown.

At least the farmer markets here still sold apple butter.

It was a consolidation prize for Maeve. She was forever grateful that Nora wanted to show her around, but that also meant third wheeling for Nora and her fiancé. Worse, they were sickeningly in love. She had never been so happy for her best friend, but also so fucking jealous at the same time.

So she would enjoy these last few moments, while Nora was trying to find her partner amidst the crowd. They tried to not make her feel bad, but being around them reminded Maeve how alone she had become.

Wait, did that guy have a leaf on his back?

Upon squinting her hazel eyes, she saw that man standing in front of her did in fact, have a leaf on the back of his plaid shirt.

Should she- oh thank God, he was reaching for it. Now Maeve wouldn't have to look at it while standing in line.

Nope. Despite his long arms, the leaf had wedged itself in a place where he couldn't reach. Oh God, was she going to have to watch him struggle the whole time?

Wanting to save her sanity outweighed her dislike of talking to strangers.

"I can get it for you, the leaf. If you want?"

He turned around to reveal a face that made her heart flutter. Bright blue eyes, bluer than the ocean. Tortoiseshell glasses that framed his face. Sunkissed hair, tousled in waves. A button nose that brought a sense of sweetness to him. A smattering of faded freckles, no doubt from hours upon hours of being out in the sun.

"Could you? That would be great, otherwise it's gonna bother me all day?" His voice was smooth as whiskey, a rural upbringing lacing his words.

But what was most astounding was his smile. The way his thin pink lips contorted to form a small, slightly crooked smile. The creases that formed around his oceanic eyes, showing years of smiles and laughter.

God, he just looked kind. The type that Maeve always wondered what it would be like to have. To see first thing in the morning and the last thing when she closed her eyes at night.

"M'am?" It didn't come across as condescending, it was actually charming. It was also said in such a deep vibrato that Maeve to snap out of whatever the fuck those last two minutes was.

It's been three months, for fuck sake's Maeve.

Why would he even be interested in you?

This is why you're a twenty-eight year old divorceé.

Maeve nodded as she mentally scolded herself, "Absolutely, not a problem."

Bob turned around, despite not wanting to. He would rather focus on the umber curls that framed her face. Or the way shades of hickory and green swirled together in her eyes. His favorite had to be how her eyes squinted when she smiled. His mother would call that as having 'smiley eyes' when he was a child.

Jesus Christ, we're really desperate now.

It wouldn't end well for you anyways. Never does.

That's why you're thirty-four and still single, Robert.

So in a way, he was grateful to turn around, as it was a chance to get himself together.

That lasted for maybe ten seconds. Bob couldn't tell if touch was incredibly gentle or if she wasn't touching him. So he turned his head, catching her reaching out.

The eye contact made Maeve freeze for a beat or two. Once Bob flashed her that sweet smile, she found the strength to continue, internally marveling at how soft his shirt felt.

He must use fabric softener. Maybe he attends this market regularly. Maybe-

It's been three months.

Yes, three months since the document was signed and it was made official legally. But the acceptance of a unsustainable marriage had occured a year ago.

She held up the leaf for effect, "You want to keep it as memorabilia?"

Bob chuckled, making Maeve feel warm all over, as if she had just drank mulled cider, "No, no, I think I'm good. But I'd love to buy that for you as a way to say thanks."

This time it was her turn to shake her head, "Oh, it was nothing! Just a leaf." Bob noticed that when she shook her head, the curls that had fallen over his forehead shook slightly.

God, she was adorable. Absolutely, completely endearing.

"Yeah, but that would have bothered me the whole time I was with my friends. I wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else," he grinned, "Plus you had no issue talking to a complete stranger. That's gotta be commended."

A laugh escapes from her rosey lips, "I usually hate talking to strangers." Fuck, why would you even say that?

If he found it odd, the handsome stranger didn't visibly or vocally show it, "Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of that either. Again, gotta be commended."

She looked down at the jar of apple butter, "It would be faster if you paid for mine. I'm meeting some friends too."

"Happy to serve," the unintentional pun about his career was lost on her. At least he could bring it up to Mickey, who would get a good laugh out of it. And his wife Cielo too. And then they would probably do something sweet, like kiss while holding hands, unintentionally reminding Bob how utterly alone it felt coming home from work every day.

Their hands brushed against one another when Maeve transferred the jar to Bob. He turned around, partly to see if he needed to step forward, partly to hide the smile on his face.

Had he turned around, he would have seen the same smile on her face. One that was full of excitement, felt for the first time in years. Just like him.

Eventually, he looked back, this time mainly to see if his friends were amidst the crowd of shoppers.

He felt the need to explain, out of fear of coming across as creepy, "My friend went looking for his fiancé. She's bringing her best friend."

What a coincidence, Nora's fiancé was bringing a friend too.

Yeah, to help you feel less shitty about always being their third wheel.

"Well does your friend have any idea where his fiancé could be?" Maeve asked as Bob paid for the two jars of apple butter.

"Oh yeah, Birdie's first stop is always the Takyaki stand," Bob paused, "Birdie isn't her real name, it's just-"

"Do you mean Nora?" Maeve's voice was now timid. Blood rushing through her veins, wondering if it was too good to be true.

Bob stopped in his tracks, brows knitting together, "How do you know her name?"

Before Maeve could explain, two new voices interrupted.

"Bob?" "Maeve?"

Turning around revealed Nora (who many referred to as 'Birdie'), who was holding the hand of her fiancé, Bradley (who at work was referred to as 'Rooster').

Bob and Maeve turned their attention back to one another, realization hitting like a brick wall.

He's the kindest guy I know. You'll love him.

She's honestly just the sweetest. It's a damn shame what happened.

They're like you. They've been through similar shit.

"You're Maeve?" He had a long finger pointed at her (God his hands were huge) but it wasn't accusing.

Maeve felt at ease, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she nodded, her eyes creasing due to her smile.

There were those smiley eyes that made his knees weak.

"I am and you're Bob? Just Bob, right? No totally random, work nickname?" With anyone else, it would have been demeaning. A few years ago, Bob would have taken offense.

But his shoulders were feeling lighter these days thanks to the past actually staying in its namesake more often.

"Well, my full name is Robert. I have some family who call me Rob, some call me Robby but that's because I gave them explicit permission to do so, not everyone reaches that level. And then some of my friends call me Bobby. So in terms of work nickname, you're correct, it's not totally random." His eyes were so expressive, it was memorizing to watch.

Charming. He was actually charming.

"Well, I think having multiple nicknames that are based off of your actual name is better than having one and it's a children's game or bird," she turned her head to flash a smile, "No offense Bradley."

Bradley, who was used to her strong opinions on call signs and now only a foot away, simply rolled his eyes, "No offense taken Maeve. But we do call him Bagman, remember?"

A coy smile spread across her face, something Bob found so endearing.

"So you two....know each other?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow. She swears she would have remembered her best friend meeting one of her fiancé's best work friends.

"We actually just met. Maeve saved me from an afternoon of trying to reach a spot on my back to get rid of a leaf," Bob explained, gently putting his hand on Maeve's shoulder. His touch was pleasant, considerate even.

"Bob got me some apple butter as a thank you," Maeve held up the jar while looking down, hoping no one would notice the rosy hue that was spreading across her face.

"Which, I assume is to make your famous cinnamon sugar apple butter pie?" Bob now turned to her, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Catching her confused expression, Bob jumped in, "When you left a pie after visiting Birdie, Bradley brought in leftovers. It was a huge hit, I still think about it."

Charlie always had an issue with whatever she cooked. Too salty. Not healthy babe. Why are you even making that?

But Charlie wasn't here. He was on the east coast, no doubt trying to find another gullible person to invest in one of his bullshit 'ideas'.

Instead there was Bob, who had a sparkle in his eyes. Who had not only heard about you, but remembered details too.

God, the bar was so fucking low.

Meanwhile, Bob hadn't thought about Cassie once since meeting the curly, raven haired woman with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

"Well, given the lack of a paper bag in Nora's hand, I'd say it's time we head to the Hog Haven stand and get some breakfast sandwiches," Maeve suggested, hoping it would turn the attention away from her.

"Absolutely! I know Bob wanted to stop by the pickling stand for Sauerkraut and that's on the way!" Nora grabbed Bradley's hand, and walked forward, leaving Bob and Maeve to walk side by side.

Almost as if it was planned that way.

"What's the Sauerkraut for?" Maeve asked, secretly noticing how he slowed his stride to match hers.

"I'm making Bigos. It means 'Hunter Stew' in Polish. My mom made it for me and my siblings all the time growing up. She's back in Wisconsin, and since it's finally 'cooled down' here, figured it was a good time to make it."

Bob can't remember the last time he felt this talkative to someone new. Usually it takes hours, sometimes even multiple outings for him to warm up. And that was if he liked the person's company.

It took him two months to warm up to Jake.

But something about Maeve had him talking a mile a minute. Even Bradley had turned around to raise his eyebrows at how much Bob was talking. He had to be careful; the last thing he needed was to be in the same situation he was in six years ago.

"I'm not super familiar with Polish food- other than bagels and pierogi's- but I'd like to learn more about it," her voice was sweet, albeit slightly reserved. Not wanting to appear too eager, or insinuate anything.

"I have a whole box of recipes from my mom and Aunts and Grandma. I can bring it next time-" He paused. No, don't assume. Never assume. "I can pass it on to Bradley who can give it to Birdie. Whichever you prefer."

"We can leave y'all to talk to each other if you want!" Bradley called out before turning his attention back to Nora.

"I have a feeling this won't be the last time we see each other. Not if those two lovebirds have anything to say about it." Her comment brought out a laugh in Bob, which in turn caused a big smile to break out across Maeve's face.

"Glad I'm not the only one who calls them that. Everyone else says it's too cheesy." "Well, those people have no love or appreciation for puns. Luckily for you Robby, I do."

He didn't correct her. In fact, he liked how the name sounded coming from her pink lips.

"Maybe we can keep talking about puns and recipes while they," Bob pointed to Bradley and Nora, who were currently holding hands and exchanging (what they thought to be) sneaky kisses, "Are themselves."

"So they act this way around you too?" Maeve's eyes lit up, relieved she wasn't the only one who had to deal with the most sickeningly sweet couple on the planet, "Being a third wheel with them is rough."

The two had now stopped at the pickles goods stand, ignoring their friends who had invited them out.

"I think it's going well! I never saw her smile this much with Charlie," Nora whispered excitedly, unable to take her green eyes off of Maeve and Bob.

"I'd say so," Bradley looked at Nora, not needing to see that his friend was talking to Maeve with a gleam in his blue eyes, a rare sight, "You know it's not going to happen overnight, right?"

"I'm aware. But I think they're off to a good start," Nora grinned. The sight of her best friend, looking the happiest she's seen in the past year, kept her bounce on her toes.

Bob and Maeve were indeed, off to a good start.