#is that what its called. wait lemme check

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

[hongjoongscafe]

Skirt.

Drabble

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut

Summary: he was too eager to punish you.

Word count: 2.4k+

Warning: edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, smoking, spanking, oral, fingering, BDSM, name-calling, mean JK, Daddy kink, vibrator, cum eating, overstimulation, spitting kink, pain kink, face slapping, cream pie, unprotected sex (cover it up before Namjoon gives you an unpleasant lesson).

Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

Masterpost.

“Oh my fucking God!” you moaned as a heavy hand landed on your naked ass, leaving a sweet sting behind.

“You are such a fucking slut, hm,” Jungkook growled. “Always acting like a whore in front of everyone,” he said as he left another hard blow on your ass. He had you bent over his legs with your skirt hiked up and your black lace thongs down your ankles. Your tits were hanging out of your skimpy tube top.

His fingers slipped between your dripping cunt, pinching your throbbing clit with his fingers. “This fucking skirt does nothing to hide this slutty cunt. Just asking to be fucked by anyone with a dick.”

“Only you,” you whined and gasped when he spanked your cunt, making a wet noise. “Please!”

“Please what?” he squeezed your cheeks and made you look at him. “What do you want you fucking whore?”

“Please, Daddy,” you cried. “Fuck me already!”

“That's all you can think about, hm? My big fat cock?” he spread your ass cheeks to see your pathetic holes clenching around nothing. Your cunt was dripping juiced down your thighs and begging attention. “Look at you being so fucking needy. I bet you will spread your legs open for my friends, too.”

“No, Daddy!” you felt frustrated, not being able to feel his fingers or cock inside your hot and wet cunt. “Please, fuck me like a whore that I am,” you pleaded.

Jungkook picked you up and threw you on the silky sheets. The mattress dipped around you as he climbed up and turned you around, on your knees and pushed your head down in the sheets. He pulled his belt out of his pants. Hastily, he pulled your hands behind your back and tied your wrists together.

“You wanna get treated like a slut? Okay then,” he harshly pulled your hair to bring your ear near his lush lips as he dangerously whispered, “Don't complain when you get bruises and a sore cunt tomorrow.”

“I wo— Ahh,” you screamed as he plunged his four fingers into your cunt, not letting you adjust but fucking them hard and fast. The tears rolled down your cheeks as your mouth moaned loudly, enjoying every single second of him.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Your needy cunt is taking my fingers so well. So wet.” The wet squelching noises turned you on even more. “Gonna fuck you till you pass out and wake up to my dick pounding into you. Wanna make sure to remind you that you are my fucking whore. Gonna fuck this fact into you.”

He felt your walls clenching around his fingers making him know that you were close. “I'm close. Please, don't stop! Why?!” you screamed when suddenly you felt empty. You gasped when he landed a painfully hot spank on your pussy making it look pinkish-red.

“Don't raise your voice in front of Daddy,” he coldly said. “You are such a fucking brat. Need to put you in place.”

You knew you fucked up big time by showing up in this outfit at a Halloween party and talking to Taehyung a little too frankly as he checked you out. You knew you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow when Jungkook's eyes were red with rage and lust.

He got up, shuffled around and removed his clothes. And opened the drawer. You couldn't see what he took out of it but waited for him to come back.

After a few seconds, he got back behind you and raised your ass higher up. Your eyes widened when he shoved a vibrator deep into your cunt. He chuckled when your hole easily squeezed it in. He then crawled in front of you and pulled your hair to get it between his legs and make you sit a little, face to face with his throbbing big fat cock. Its head was angry red and shiny with precum. His cock was the prettiest with the perfect curve. “Now be a good whore and suck my cock.”

You didn't need to be told twice as you licked his head and took him into your mouth, trying to take the whole of his big length but miserably failing. “Is my cock too big?” you hummed around him. “Tsk tsk, thought you were trained after taking many dicks.” You both were well aware that that was not true. But you would be lying if that didn't make you want to beg him to fuck you senseless. “Guess nobody had a dick this big?” he said, taking a blunt between his lips and lighting it up before throwing the lighter away. He took a deep puff, rested his hand with the blunt over his head and looked at your form through hooded eyes.

You bobbed your head up and down. You wanted to take it all and tried harder. You closed your eyes and pushed your head down but gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned when you swallowed around him. Your hands itched to hold his dick and play with his balls.

Jungkook could see his dick moving in your throat. “Fuck,” he grunted. “You are taking me so fucking well. Just like a perfect whore.” You moaned around his cock when he started the vibrator at a lower setting.

You looked up at him through your wet lashes to see him smirking and holding a tiny remote in his other hand. Your eyes rolled back as the mild vibrations were slowly pushing closer to your high. But soon you were disappointed when they stopped.

And then he turned them on stronger than before. His dick slipped out of your mouth as you moaned loudly and your eyes rolled back. Your nails dug into your palms and your legs shook. “Don’t fucking stop!” he hissed.

You opened your eyes and licked his balls and sucked them one by one. His eyes rolled back as his chest heaved up and down. Small moans and grunts were leaving his pink lips. He took another puff of smoke and blew it out. Your tongue was pressed hard against his underside. You could feel the vein throbbing against it.

He took the blunt between his lips and held your hair and forced his cock inside your mouth. He started fucking your mouth. “My pretty cumslut. Taking in daddy so good.” He turned off the vibrator completely when he saw you coming closer, yet again taking away an orgasm.

He felt closer to his high and quickly changed his position and got behind you. He slipped himself inside your hot cunt beside the vibrator and fucked your cunt. His thrusts were hard and fast making your body jolt. Your cheek was pressed against the silky sheets as you drooled all over them.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you back as he trusted. You both moaned at the pleasure it sent through your veins. His cock went deeper into your cunt, his tip brushing your spongy g-spot. “I’m gonna fucking mark this pussy with my cum in it. Will make you walk around in this fucking skirt without panties with my cum running down your thighs. Wouldn't that be good?”

“Daddy, please!” you whined. “Please let me cum! I'm so close.”

Before you could cum, he pulled out. An evil chuckle left him. “You will only cum when I ask you to.” He pulled the vibrator out and replaced it with his fingers. He plunged them into your cunt making you scream out.

“Daddy!” you blabbed some incoherent words to him. He was satisfied to see you so dumb and senseless just because of him.

“So fucking dumb. You wanna cum?” you nodded your head but screamed when he spanked your ass, making it redder than it already was. “Words, you dumb whore.”

“Yes, Daddy! Wanna cum on your fingers!” you cried, tears staining the purple sheets.

Jungkook groaned, feeling your velvety walls throbbing and clenching around his fingers. “Cum, then. Fucking cum on my fingers like a slut you are.”

“Oh, Daddy,” you screamed.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull and moaned out his name loudly as your climax hit you harder and squirted violently. Jungkook removed his fingers but rubbed and spanked your pussy hastily as your squirt splashed around on his abs and cock. “Give me more,” he grunted as he plunged his fingers back into your cunt and fingered you hard. You weakly squirted some more before you felt overstimulated and whined.

Jungkook flipped you around and saw your fucked up face. Your makeup was ruined, mascara was running down your cheeks and lipstick was smeared all over your mouth. He loved it.

He took a puff of blunt and blew it out before putting it away. “Now you look even more of a slut. But we are not done just yet,” he said and got between your legs. “Look at my hand. Look what your needy cunt did to it.” You looked at his hand covered with your cum and squirt. “Clean it for me.” He said and shoved his fingers in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and licked them clean. He pushed them further until you gagged around them. He enjoyed looking at you trying to suck his fingers. You were his perfect little slut, letting him do whatever he pleases without ever stopping or stepping away.

You moaned around his fingers when you felt the sweet stretch in your pussy as he trusted back inside. “You wanted to cum, yeah? Let's see how many times you can cum.”

He started plunging at an animalistic pace. He took his fingers out, wrapped them around your throat and tightened the grip just enough to leave harmless bruises and to make your head a little dizzy. His lips found yours and clashed messily. He slipped his tongue in your mouth as you moaned when his cock hit deeper into you. Your walls were feeling raw but the pleasure was too good to stop.

His free hand found your clit and rubbed circles over it. “Fuck, Daddy! So good. You fuck me so good! So fucking big and girth.” He let go of your neck and squeezed your right tit and pinched your nipple.

“You like that, bitch?” you let out a hoarse yes. He spat on your jiggly tits and wrapped his mouth around your nipple and sucked on it. His tongue was flat on your sensitive nub and then bit it before leaving it with a pop. “So fucking nasty. I smell your slutty cunt here. It's leaking so much. My balls are drenched.”

He stopped for a second and held your under thigh and bent you in half. He thrust back inside, much deeper this time. Your hands were still behind your back, holding the sheets as if your life depended on it.

Jungkook rubbed your left cheek with his hand before slapping it. Your eyes rolled back and pussy clenched around his dick suffocatingly. He chuckled seeing you like this. “Such a painslut.” he said and slapped your cheek again. This time you moaned loudly for him and took another hit on your cheek. You were indeed a pain slut just like him.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he moaned.

You obliged and opened your mouth and slid your tongue out. He collected the spit in his mouth and came closer to your mouth and spat it in your mouth harshly. The glob of spit slid down your tongue. He never spat in your mouth before. But it felt good and dirty. You moaned loudly and clenched around him.

“Swallow,” he commanded. You swallowed and showed him. “That's my good slut. Come on now, cum again. Cum on my cock.”

Your walls squeezed around him. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you felt your orgasm taking over your brain. You had no control over your body. It just screamed for Jungkook to destroy and use.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that,” he groaned when your walls squeezed him squirting all over his cock. “That's it. Let it all out,” he rubbed your clit to help you ride your high. You felt tired. But he didn't stop. Instead, he picked up his pace, “I still didn't cum. You gonna cum with me, too.”

“No more!” you cried as he kept hitting the spot. “Too sensitive!”

“Shut up!” he spanked your ass leaving a burning pleasurable pain behind. “You said you are a fucking whore so act like one and take what I give,” he gritted. “Be a good girl and cum with me, yeah? Fucking cream my cock,” he panted, coming closer to his climax. “Cream it good, baby.”

Your body shuddered and your back arched. Out of nowhere, the strongest orgasm slapped you across your face and you came on his cock again.

“Oh fuck,” his voice trembled and thrusts got sloppier as he came inside your burning walls, painting them white. He filled you up to the brim with his cum as thick ropes of cum didn't stop. His orgasm was more intense than ever. He never edged himself this much ever but he didn't regret it.

Finally, he was done coming. Slowly, he pulled out of your cunt and hissed at the overstimulation. Your cunt was red and swollen as his cum dripped down your folds and stained the sheets. The sight was too delicious to leave it alone.

Jungkook bent down and licked a thick strip from your asshole to your dripping cunt. You tried to get away but he held you in place. “Daddy,” you whine. “Too sensitive.”

He hummed on your cunt, sending shivers down your spine. “I know, baby,” he moaned. “But your cunt is so fucking delicious.” He kept on eating you out until your cunt was clean. But he didn't leave just yet. He wanted to pull one more orgasm out of you.

He nibbled your clit and sucked harshly on it. Your breath hitched and your mouth fell open. Your brain could not register anything anymore. He kept sucking and biting your pussy until you felt coming closer. “I'm, yeah, hmm,” you let out some slurred meaningless words but he understood.

With the last bite on your clit, you poorly squirted on his face and came. He lapped every single drop and finally, left your pussy alone before laying next to you and removing the belt from your bruised wrists and kissing them.

Jungkook looked at your fucked face and felt proud. You were barely awake when he pulled your trembling body closer in his arms. The last thing heard him say before he pecked your lips was—

“My little whore never disappoints her daddy in bed.”

…..

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae

Have a nice day/night💓

[the-black-parade-system]

hi can u do a walker scobell x reader fic of u meeting the percy jackson cast as his gf for the first time thank uuuu!!

iPhone screen

Walker Scobell x gn!reader

Summary: It’s only walkers 5th day of filming for the Percy Jackson series and Leah, Aryan, Charlie, and Dior find out he has a partner through his iPhone wallpaper.

Warning(s): different povs

A/N: Thank you so much for the request love! If there’s anything I can fix please lmk <33 also the italics were being really mean to me so sorry if those are messed up.

Walkers pov

It was my fifth day on set, and it was going pretty normal. I was sitting in a chair off set scrolling on my phone next to Leah and Aryan since it was our break. Leah looked up from her phone and looked over at me.

“Hey Walker?” She smiled and cocked her head a little, I looked up from my phone and over at Leah.

“yeah?” I look at Leah who is staring at my phone where my lock screen is showing.

“who’s that on your lock screen?” She asked with a slight giggle causing Aryan to look up. I proudly held up my phone showing off my lock screen which had a picture of my partner, Y/N, on it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my partner Y/N!” I proudly said as I watch Leah and Aryans mouths gape open.

“Your dating someone?” Aryan said while on the edge of his seat, so was Leah. I gave a nod and pulled up a picture of us when we had went to Universal Studios for their 15th birthday and proudly showed the picture.

“Well why haven’t we met them?!” Leah exclaimed with a smile plastered on her and Aryans faces. Aryan spoke up.

“you should totally bring them to set tomorrow walk,” Aryan said as he straightened out his posture in his seat. I thought for a moment.

“Will Rick allow it? I hope I’m not pissing off the producers if I do that.” I shrugged and put my elbow onto the arm rest of the plastic chair. Aryan looked over at Leah.

“I’m sure he will. I brought my best friend on set that one time.” Leah said, “Why are they like annoying?” She asked, I don’t think she was trying to be mean with that. At least I hope.

“No! They’re really chill.” I said with a smile and looked at the picture I had pulled up on my phone and smiled a little more.

“Then bring them! I’d love to meet them!” Leah said as Aryan nodded in agreement. I gave a nod in response.

“I’ll bring them then.”

Later that night, around 12am I guess, I texted Y/N while I was lying in bed.

You: “Heeeyy sweetheart?”

My love<3: “yeeees?”

You: “would u wanna come to set tmrw? My friends wanna meet you :)”

My love<3: “uhh lemme check with my mom.”

You: “kk”

My love<3: “she said it was fine as long as I can get a ride :)”

You: “sure! Me n my dad will come get ya tmrw morning.”

My love&lt;3: “What time?”

You: “Around 8:30”

My love<3: “that works for me. Night ilysm!”

You: “gn hon, ilyttt”

Your pov

The next morning I had to get up around 7:00 which kind of sucked. I threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants and brushed my teeth, combed my hair etcetera, etcetera. I waited at my front door for Walker to show up like a dog waiting for its owner to get home from work. I hummed a bit before seeing his dad’s car pull up and I immediately opened my front door and ran out.

“Walker!” I called out excitedly at the smiling face I was so used to seeing as I ran to the car that was sitting in my driveway.

“Y/N!” Walker called back, he rolled down the window to the passenger seat and looked at me. “Hello my dear.” He said dramatically and kissed me. I smiled and opened the door to the backseat.

“Hey walk,” I smiled and waved at Pete, walkers dad. “Hi Mr. Scobell.” He gave a wave and a tired smile, which made sense, it was 8:00am.

We got to set in around a 30 minutes, which wasn’t too bad. But the set was..intimidating. It was huge and already had cameras everywhere and a big parking lot. Walker looked at me through the rearview mirror with a smile.

“You nervous?” He giggled. I nodded “A little.” I said even though my hands were shaking. “you don’t have to be nervous, everyone is really nice.” He said, “And they’re all really excited to meet you.” That made me calm down a little, I mean, remembering Walker would be with me made everything better. Me and Walker hopped out of the car and started to walk to Walkers trailer where he introduced me to his makeup artist and his hair stylist. He was sat down in the chair where they did his hair and makeup and I sat in the chair next to him. Then Aryan walked through.

“Hey walk- oh, hi!” He waved at me, “Are you Y/N?” He paused walking for a little to talk to me, never knew I was that interesting.

“oh, yeah. I’m walkers partner.” I shook his hand and he had a big smile on his face. “cool! Nice to meet ya!” He said with a handsome smile on his face and walked off

“see you later!”

Walker perked up, “That’s Aryan, Leah should be here soon cuz she’s always late.” He laughed as I saw Leah walk through. She was even prettier in person. ”Am not!” She playfully punched walkers shoulder lightly as she had a smile abroad her face. “I’m Leah, I’m guessing your Y/N?” She asked and shook my hand

I gave a nod “Nice to meet you!” I said. She let go of my hand and replied with a small laugh. “Lovely to meet you too! See you two later.” She walked off to her trailer and Walker looked at me with an ear-to-ear grin on his face.

“I think you’re gonna have a good time on set today.”

“Me too, Walk, me too.”

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Counting Down To Heaven] TF141*Reader

They wait outside the operation room for your emergency op to finish, they try to stay awake, but tiredness eventually drags them into a dream.

cw: gore and wound mentioned

Price (fear of his job will put u in danger)

He opens the door, coming back home is the thing bracing him through the grueling mission, because it means coming back to you.

The living room is full of the sweet scent of fresh-baked cookies, he hums and calls out your name, putting his hat down and walks inward, not realizing the soothing yellow light turns off itself behind him.

He frowns when he feels the air is freezingly cold he frowns, and he realizes something the moment he turns the knob on the door of you two’s bedroom

The house is too quiet, eerily silent.

His cry stucks in his throat when his eyes land on your figure, lying in the blood pool, cloudy eyes looking straightly into his.

As he drops to his knee and crawls to your side, he recognizes there’s something in his grasp.

A tactical knife dripping blood, gripped in his hand, and it suits the slash wound across your throat.

Soap (fear of being overconfident)

He tells you everything’s okay, all his plans will lead to success, don’t worry, just follow behind him.

So he never looks back to check on you during the battle, eyes lock on his enemies, adrenaline pumping through his body, heartbeats deafening, and makes him unaware of the sound of your footsteps disappears.

It’s too late when he turns around and can’t find you, the thick fog surrounding him obscures his sight, so he just runs as fast as he can towards the only tunnel with lights in the end.

Only be welcomed by your body hanging high on the tree by his enemy, but after a blink, he isn’t standing at the same spot.

He’s tying the rope around your neck and unable to stop himself.

Gaz (fear of having wrong decision)

“Give me a donut, thanks babe.” You say to him with a smile, and he leans down to press a kiss on your cheek then walks into the coffee shop.

He waits for quite a while, finally getting his order, and can’t wait to meet you outside and see your delighted face when you’re enjoying your favorite dessert.

but when he pushes open the door, all he can see is blood, gun, corpse.

Battlefield.

He yells your name immediately, trying to search for you as he rushes between countless dead bodies.

Until he spots clothes with a familiar pattern peeking out under one of the remnants that he dashes to its side, pawing at the rocks and glass even if they cut open his palms, he doesn’t care, and finally, you reveal from the gravel, with a gunshot wound right on your temple.

What he only can do is carefully hug you in his arms and regret his decision — leaving you alone.

Ghost (fear of losing his love because of himself)

He’s washing his hands, water pouring from the sink, but none of the blood is getting off of his skin.

He scrubs his hands, harder and rougher, until his skin is broken, and his blood combines with yours from the scratches scattering across his hands.

He raises his head and smashes the mirror above because no matter what he does, the blood just stains his palms.

When he finally takes a good look at the shattered mirror, he sees you in it.

Bloody and pale, lifeless. Glints no longer exist in your eye, and he crumbles to the floor with a desperate sob.

[jamespottersdaisy]

A man without love

Peter Parker x fem!reader

|1.4k|

a/n: just a fluffy banter during a cozy night

song choice has absolutely no relation to the fic whatsoever, i just listened to it the whole time and liked lmao. dedicated to my baby jay @hollandweather

Moonlight to show the way so we can follow

Waiting inside her eyes was my tomorrow

Then something changed her mind, her kisses told me

I had no loving arms to hold me

Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

Lonely is a man without love

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

Lonely is a man without love

Somewhere amidst the mellifluous melody, the door clicks, and you know Peter is home. 

You’ve been captivated in your book for far too long to notice the hour; quite late, might I add. It must have been a rough night for him to decide to stay past two in the morning for patrol.

You grab your phone and toss it between the pages as a bookmark before hopping on your feet.

“Nice song, baby,” Peter murmurs as he dawdles to your room, leaving its door agape. You wager he is changing to something much more comfortable than that suit of his but still barge in the room nonetheless. “How was the night, big guy?”

You catch a few discoloration on his skin as his bare torso moves around beside the bed. He glances at you sidelong, swiftly hauling a grey shirt on. “Smashing success. No criminals left around.”

He might have rushed to shroud his skin with cloth from you, but you are shrewd enough to match his furtiveness. No chance he is hiding those tiny injuries from you. Perhaps he has a good reason to do so– such as the look on your face when you see him hurt– but still, not good enough of a reason to deny you. 

“Lemme see,” you clutch the hem of his shirt to lift it up, only for his hand to grab yours to parry.

“On my period, sorry, beautiful.” His eyes may be drooping from exhaustion, yet his smirk is as smug as always while you glower daggers at him.

“Let me see, Peter.”

“That’s harassment.”

“There’s something purplish on your back,” you try harder, but he is stronger.

“You’re delusional.”

“I know what I saw, quit gaslighting me.”

“Gaslighting is not real. You’re crazy,” Peter shakes his head.

“Are you hiding hickeys of trysting?” you jeer, making him chuckle and release your hand from his at last. 

“Nope, don’t have time for that,” he shakes his head gallantly. “Just bruises of valour.”

Which simply earns a mocking scoff from you.

You don’t see or feel his amorous gaze on you as your fingers trace the new bruises. They’ll heal, you know they will, and still, you want to kiss every one of them into evanescing.

“How was your night?” he whispers, bringing his hand to your hair and pushing a strand behind your ear. 

“Better than yours, apparently,” You now touch the small nick on his jaw tenderly and turn around to get a band-aid from the nightstand.

His eyes follow your movements around, gears working in his brain. “Please, not the pink one–” he calls when you grab a band-aid.

Too late. You are already springing back with a wide grin. “Pink one!”

“Not the pink one…” he closes his eyes in disdain as you strut back to his side and place a screaming pink plaster on his jaw.

He looks down in your eyes as you check his handsome face, clearly proud of your work. “I look so manly.”

“Most manliest you ever looked.”

“Wanna get in the bed with me?

“You’re on your period, Peter.”

He laughs and turns around before throwing himself into the bed. “C’mon, take your book and the music and come here.”

I cannot face this world that's fallen down on me

So if you see my girl, please send her home to me

Tell her about my heart that's slowly dying

Say I can't stop myself from crying

Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

Lonely is a man without love

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

Lonely is a man without love

When you sit on the bed, legs crossed with your book on your lap, Peter takes your phone, restarting the same song. He averts his eyes to your book. “Anything new?” 

“Oh, yeah, you’ve missed so much,” your eyes widen with excitement, and Peter’s smile widens intuitively. “I don’t even remember where you left off.”

“The girl’s memories got stolen,” he reminds you. “Want me to braid your hair?”

“I get so sleepy when you do that,” you shake your head and open the book to go through pages with hopes of remembering what you’ve read since Peter left.

“I should hope so, do you know what hour it is?”

“But I’ve missed you,” your head snaps up, and Peter narrows his eyes. His hand is already up in your hair, playing and caressing the locks gently. “Liar. You’ve been reading that book since I’ve left home.”

“And two hours before that,” you lean into his touch.

“You’ve officially lost the right to complain about your headache,” He props up in bed, switching to a more suitable position for easier access to your hair.

“I will do it regardless.”

‘I know you will,” his long fingers take three strands, and you are already feeling sleepy. “Now, please, tell me what happened after the poor girl lost her memories.”

You pause for a minute, mustering all the plot you’ve consumed to drain. As you remember the things the poor main character went through, your blood pressure soars, eyes widen and voice raise. “They lied to her! Can you believe that?”  you exclaim, at which Peter raises his brows in happy bewilderment. “God, I hate her mother so much!”

“Stepmother. Go on,” He interjects before passing to another strand of hair and dividing it into three. “What about her situationship?”

“He is not her situationship, Peter–”

“I mean, they flirt about killing each other, sleep together, but they’re not together.”

“That’s sexual tension and slow burn,” you scowl. Peter lets go of another newly done braid.

“Yep, that’s what I said,” he nods, caressing your cheek with his thumb. ”Situationship. What happened to him?”

That’s when you straighten your back, and Peter rolls his eyes. He never was fond of the male main characters of the books you’ve read. No matter how they looked and what they did, you always seemed to be infatuated with them.

“He was looking for her, and he found her and he freaked out when she didn’t remember her–” You start babbling about the male lead, but Peter is not amused.

“Breathe.”

“But he could not openly tell her everything, it would freak her out, so he–”

“Still not breathing, beautiful.”

“Stop interrupting,” you wave off your hand.”So he lied about who he is to gain her trust and–”

“He’s such a liar, what do you even see in him?”

“He’s hot,” you lightly slap his chest to stop him from cutting off your every word. 

“He is short, but sure, go on,” Peter grabs you by the arm and yanks you closer to his chest. 

This is his favourite time of the day, and you are always too busy to see it. Your voice echoes around the room, albeit he forgets most of the things you are saying by the morning. What matters is that you are talking. To him. With him. 

“Doesn’t matter, still hot,” You nuzzle against his chest, feeling his hands roam around your hair and back. It’s dizzying and yet the most comforting feeling you’ve ever felt. “So, they start spending time behind her mother and slowly grow a bond.”

“There we go, she’s gonna take forever to trust him again,” Peter’s tone is already lowered, welcoming you into a place of drowsiness. Both of you in your pyjamas, tangled together under a blanket that Peter wrapped around you. 

“So, you wouldn’t wait and fight for my love even if it took forever?” your words are heavy, and your voice is slumberous. Peter smiles down at your hooded eyes and rests his chin against yours.

“Baby, you didn’t acknowledge your feelings for me for six months.” He is right. You fought a lot to not ruin the friendship at first.

“I still could have taken my time,” you mumble, eyes closed. “Act oblivious to your flirting.”

“I could not be clearer that I was flirting,” he chuckles slowly, taking the book away from you and placing it on the counter. “And I would’ve waited another six months.”

“You would get bored.”

“Of you? Never,” is all that is said before you doze off and he shuts off the lights.

Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

Knowing that it's cloudy above

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

Lonely is a man without love

Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

Knowing that it's cloudy above

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

Lonely is a man without love

thank you for reading! let me know if you liked it!!!! love you guys so much!

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XX

Warnings/AN: I should apologize for the drama but its my trademark at this point, I'll just say that there's a flashback and a couple of references to previous chapters. As soon as possible I'll create a masterlist dedicated to the series, because I have contents that I want to add since we are at the end. Lemme know if someone wants a tag there too~

Trouble ahead.

He showed up unexpectedly, grumbling about the mud that had gotten on his expensive shoes, the usual penguin-like gait and Jimmy rolled his eyes, waiting for him to finally reach them because they couldn't have continued at all if he was around. And it had nothing to do with a tactical move to hide plan from the enemy, it was simply impossible to ignore or avoid Paul Heyman and if once Jimmy would have laughed, now Paul was just annoying and the expression on Jey's face proved it.

- "Nice place, in your style" – he commented, without greeting or trying to pretend too much – "reminds me the days I used to come visit your dad, both of you were three, four maybe" – and Jimmy folded his arms.

Sure, their style wasn't their cousin's luxury stuff, the one Paul had accustomed him to. At that moment he was probably having breakfast in a restaurant downtown or a sauna to cool down his muscles, but he too had cut his teeth at the garage near Oak Wood Hills. Jimmy still remembered the afternoons spent there after school to see the red Jeep Cherokee that Roman had become obsessed with, he bought the damn car as soon as Uncle Sika came back from one of his trips and now instead he drove around in black businessman's SUVs and looking after the community with checks he couldn't spend on himself.

- "Did you get lost Og? Want me to call your daddy so he can pick you up?" – he asked and Paul must have had colic judging by his reaction.

- "No. Im here to talk."

- "Wow really?! Mind-blowing!"

The colic became a reproachful look at his sarcasm, but still Jimmy was not impressed and when Jey decided to come closer to support him, Paul wisely quit, once again showing off the best acting skills to save his ass.

- "Even though I remember what was said at the meeting, Im here with good intentions. Of course, it hurt me if I have to tell the truth, I don't understand where the aversion against me comes from... but despite this I couldn't refuse in my heart to help" – he began and Jimmy blinked confused.

- "Have you had a heart transplant?" – he urged, matching his attitude.

Paul didn't take that joke well either, but he had nothing to complain about, everyone knew how things were. The wiseman didn't help anyone if he didn't have something back, goodness was not among his qualities and it was impossible he had found some of it within himself now that he was personally involved. His feelings worked on command, according to occasion and business.

- "He thinks I'm dumb ass" – Jey said out of nowhere, staring at him.

He had crossed the edge since the boys' were dragged into the family mess and now his goal was just putting an end to it all. For him that war was an unbearable burden, Jimmy knew how he was, he knew Jey just wanted to start over, have some peace and he didn't like Paul's fake visit because it also added provocation to his worries. He would probably have put up with Roman, but not Paul, Paul wasn't family to him and those turns of phrase were making him nervous.

He heard the wiseman noises, trying to stay in control even though Jey's gaze didn’t help his attempts.

- "What? No, of course not, I’d never think bad about you! The Tribal Chief had chosen you as his right-hand man, a fool would not have had such an honor or right to speak in family business."

He thinks we're both dumb.

That stunt pushed Jimmy to clench his fists in annoyance, but didn't have time to silence Paul because his brother really didn't seem in the mood that day and had come forward again.

- "I had no right. He take all the decisions, with you, from day one."

He hadn't been around when that deal or alliance or whatever it was between him and Roman had come about, he'd been forced away from home for months, but Jey was there and kept him updated on everything. They had kept him on the sidelines of the family business from the beginning and the right-hand man title with their tricks had become a joke they made real when it suited them. Jey had taken it seriously despite everything, he had committed to the vision and tried, but it only make him run everywhere and get beaten. When Jimmy came back everything was already done and things had even gotten worse after.

- "Jey…" - he heard Paul negotiating trying to slow things down, realizing maybe that his sweet words were no longer having the planned effect - "when you're at the top you often find yourself in unpleasant situations, it's not for everyone, you're starting to understand it too how it is bearing the weight of that position. At the meeting you made some choices... let's say questionable ones... listening an advice would have been right for you if I may, to judge pros and cons. I'm here to offer you a second chance, I care about you even if you don’t care about the wiseman."

Jimmy hadn't expected his brother to discuss those terms in front of the elders, it had been strange and even he had been amazed, because Jey hadn't talked to him first about anything. But whatever plan he had if he had one, leaving a door open for Solo and even Y/N, Jey didn't need any second chances, especially not thanks to Paul. Jimmy was there to cover his back and it would always be like this, he didn't need counselors and dogs licking his feet to sleep better at night.

I can handle him.

His offer echoed through the link, but Jey didn't answer.

- "I know you're angry now and maybe it won't seem that way, but all this will help you, trust me it can be good for you, it's part of your journey to take the place of the Tribal Chief one day" – he persisted and Jimmy decided to step forward, ready to send him back to where he came from with good ass kick.

- "Imma take his place next week" – Jey stopped him, voice far too calm.

The day. It was just a week away. At the dawn after the harvest moon things would no longer be the same. Jimmy had been hoping for a change for years now, in the last few months he had chased it like a breath of air, now that was so close it was an almost surreal feeling, but Jey already seemed in control and ready.

- "It could happen... of course..." - Paul hesitated, avoiding answering to Jey push - "its essential, however, that the family is preserved and all of this, lemme tell you, is a dangerous gamble now. The elders have agreed to restore order, but we're all worried about what will happen next, them, me, your parents, even Y/N... poor girl, she can't rest knowing what’s going on and what could come" - he tried, pulling out an apologetic face that he could have avoid considering what relationship he had with Y/N.

- "None of them should be. The only one who needs to worry is you, because when I'm done, you'd better be far away. Bring back your advice, speeches and ass to my cousin, Og, don’t make say it twice" – Jey quickly silenced him though, stopping his tantrum by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jimmy watched him stiffen as if someone had growled at him, face pale and shaken, his gaze going from Jey's fingers to eyes, which had been fixed on him from the moment he showed up. The realization of failure hit him right in front of them, a mixture of affront, anxiety and worry that Jimmy watched Paul shake off in the same way as Jey's hand, scrambling a few steps back to make room between them. He nodded to who knows who, body shaking as he sorted out his expensive clothes and pride.

The harvest moon was near, so their mother said. That year it was time to reap what they had sown.

***

Devil's Point, that's what the sign they passed on the way said and it really must have been one of devil’s tricks, because Y/N felt her stomach flipped. Or maybe wasn't the devil, maybe it was just another perfect date, pleasant anxiety, wine and fresh air caressing her warm face, sun slowly sinking beyond the strip of sand and trees, setting the sky on fire. Maybe the devil was Roman, with his gentleman manner, so confident, constantly eyeing her, always attentive, his low velvet voice. The bond had always been there, in her veins, in her bones. An invisible impulse born with them, as their lives went on and years passed, omnipresent, indissoluble, inevitable despite miles and obstacles. And more Y/N lingered in that trap easier it seemed to fall, normal deserving the life she hadn't had, a security she didn't know and now all around her, emanating from Roman.

Where has he been all this time? We were alone…

- "Have you ever looked for me?" – she asked out of nowhere, putting the dessert away.

A chocolate cake, because it was her favorite and he worked hard to please her, learning quickly and put into practice even the most insignificant details.

Roman looked surprised at the change of subject, putting down his glass.

- "Have you ever looked for me before that evening, when you found me at the camping?" – she asked again, feeling anxiety suddenly hit even though it had been her idea to investigate, happiness quickly dissolve into doubts.

Y/N didn't even know why she asked. It was an uncomfortable question, the search for a mate was a now past custom, too low probabilities and a world where alternatives had now become norm. It was stupid to expect something and unnecessarily provocative, what's more in their case, after all the first few months problems, it sounded a bit like an accusation or an attempt to ruin plans. Roman however didn't lose his composure and she saw him take a deep breath, brow furrowed as he remembered.

- "Years ago. When I finished college, did it for a while, then stopped."

- "Why?"

He looked at her in silence, but he didn't seem angry or bothered.

She needed to hear it, to know.

- "… had become frustrating. I needed to focus on what I could accomplish."

So real. So true.

Few could say they were lucky enough to find their other half. Rare cases, exceptions. Was it sad to meet someone, choose them and fit in? No, most people out there did it like that, she herself had witnessed it with her parents before the horror, but sometimes people couldn't even find someone, sometimes they were not chosen or stopped wanting each other and then yes, it became sad. For Y/N having someone in her life had never been an aspiration, a dream to cherish when night became too cold or silence too heavy. Getting attached was a risk, risks were dangerous and in her case, as an omega, alone and without a family or a community, it was better to avoid rather than defend. She had to be smart, loneliness had kept her alive, had kept her going, was the possibility of filling the void that scared Y/N. It scared her to get used to someone and lose everything again. She knew what Roman was talking about, a perpetual aftertaste on her lips when she moved away from a place and now she was founding out that she had never really been alone. She had always had a chance, someone waiting for her, ready to fill that void that for Y/N had become like an old illness she lived with.

Roman had been looking for her, among so many people, even if only for a while he really had and it was… so reassuring.

- "You didn't" – she heard him reflect, moving closer to put his jacket on her shoulders.

There was knowledge in his voice, a heavy bitterness, as if he didn't need to hear Y/N say it. She watched him take another sip of wine to warm himself or perhaps wash away the taste of that thought, enduring the cool evening for her.

- "I did it once… just once" – she admitted, surprising him and even herself.

She had never thought about that day before, but memory had hit her soon through her she-wolf, perhaps to console him. She didn’t like that look on his face, he was better all cocky and flirting.

- "I have been in foster care for couple of years after I lost my parents. I went from one house to another, it didn't work and I really didn't want to stay. There was a brunette white girl in one of the families, she didn't like me, talking behind my back all the time... I told her I’d find you and make her regret it" – she said, shaking her head at the thought of that childish menace.

Y/N didn't remember the reason for their fight, it could have been anything, she was an unbearable girl herself at the time, but she knew how she had felt. It was vivid in her memory. That sense of not belonging, absolute loneliness, anger, so much anger at the idea of being and being able to be just a stray in the future. The world is too big a place when life decides to give its worst lessons. Y/N had always grown up quickly, she had always learned running, what to be without roots, what to do if there is no one waiting.

- "We can pay her a visit" – Roman proposed casually and Y/N stared at him, because of all the things he could have said, she hadn't expected that.

No pitying comments, no words of comfort or judgement, just a blind complicit willingness to indulge her past madness.

- "Mmh I'm tempted" – she giggled softly.

- "What happened?" – heard him ask and pointed to her arm, where there was a scar similar to the one he had.

- "I stole her dad’s car and destroyed their fence" - she said, making him frown.

She had gotten into that pick-up without knowing how to drive or what to do, it didn’t end well, they caught her immediately and in hurry she had taken everything and everyone down. One of the poles around property had broken the pick-up window and the wire wrapped around it had threatened to blow her arm off, it was a miracle she hadn't fainted there. One of the biggest dumb act of her life and at the same time another lesson, proving Y/N she shouldn't be carried away by her omega impulses, it didn't bring anything good.

- "I stayed in town for a while I think, then left without looking back. I have no idea what happened to the pick-up or her. I didn't find you though... it was enough for me."

Admitting it, thinking about it, made her feel vulnerable. She didn't like that feeling. That attempt had been a failure from the start, chances of meeting him simply by walking a few miles, going to any city, any street, had been zero and even if he had been there, messed up as she was by pain, Y/N wouldn't even know she had found him. She had been stupid, irresponsible, mindless but realizing when it got dark she was still hopelessly alone had been worse.

She shrugged, picking up the dessert to distract and control herself.

It was over now.

- "We'll make things right, you have my word. It will be enough to be together, there's no need to think about it" – she heard Roman assure, once again without excuses or pity, firm in his intentions – "no more car rides though"– he added with a reproachful look that made her smile.

No, there was no need to think about the past. Everything had already changed and Y/N had learned her lesson, but maybe it was time to learn something else, trying not to run away this time. It seemed easy at the time and yes it really all came down to being enough for each other, filling the void with their bond.

For days Roman's routine had always been the same, calculated to the second, with no margin for error or change. He woke up before dawn, shower, breakfast and run, spend the morning in the gym, then lunch and gym again until dinner time, after which he lock himself in the office taking care of the documents Paul brought or business that required his supervision, and then join her in bed when it was already late night and repeat everything the next day. He was locked in a bubble, focused on a single goal, counting minutes, preparing in advance for whatever would or could happen. An absolute, maniacal dedication that Y/N somehow admired. It made her proud to see that he was capable of so much and yet it also made her sad.

Because in the wild run of that family war, she was just a spectator. She repeated to herself that she had to be patient, be understanding, that she had to put aside anxieties and bad moods to support him as better as she could, but it weighed on her. She did whatever not to show it, not to think about it, and despite her efforts Y/N felt everything around her emptying and cooling, her sacrifices devalued and even ignored. They almost didn’t speak to each other anymore and certainly not about what they should have because there was no time for doing it, they didn’t spend together and when that happened he was focused on something else, Y/N had the feeling of having gone back to the days when they were two strangers, two separate worlds united by a thin wire.

She didn't want that, they weren't like that, they had both worked hard to make things work, succeeding, they had truly found themselves at the end. The idea they were affecting their relationship, the possibility to distance themselves so bad to spend a life like that, wasn't something Y/N could bear. They had overcome differences, they shouldn't have burned everything because they didn't see things the same way in war where their relationship was not in play. They just had to meet once again and remember. He had taught her that and Y/N hadn't believed him for a long time, but they really needed their bond.

On the now empty table on the patio, she opened the floor plan of her old house, the one she had had to leave and Roman had given her back. It was nothing compared to what she had now, but it could become something, maybe just for them, a place where nothing and no one could disturb them.

***

Day after day his body pushed further and further, urged by pressure, focused on a single goal from which Roman couldn’t look away. He couldn't afford any mistakes with Jey, Roman knew he could beat him and he would, but his cousin knew him better than any other out there. They were certainly on two different levels, however Roman couldn't allow him to prove anything if he wanted to regain the absolute control that the elders had questioned due to too many mistakes in those months. And it was for these reasons that getting out of his head, stopping and having those breaks had become an annoying obligation that he fulfilled in the shortest time and avoiding any extra thoughts. Lose focus was a weakness, give ground an advantage, something he couldn't tolerate.

When he closed the door behind him, the house was silent as if he were the only one around. It had been like this for a long time, but time had passed. Now it wasn’t empty, Y/N was there and not finding her in the living room as had been the case for days forced him to follow her trail to the outside. He expected to find her busy, but not to see her with all those papers on the table.

Why is she looking at them? Why she got that floor plan again?! Stop her. Now.

- "What are you doing?" – he asked, voice heavy and she immediately raised her head with a weak smile, one that she could have addressed to anyone, not to him.

- "Nothing, I was waiting for you. Is it already time for your break?"

If it was an attempt to push away the conversation or pretend, it didn't work. He knew those documents, he had signed them and he had been clear telling her not to get any strange ideas about her family's old house, and yet she was there looking at them page by page at a moment like this.

- "I asked you what you think you are doing Y/N" – he repeated seriously, convincing her to put them down.

- "I was keeping myself busy while I waited for you to finish. I answered."

He saw Y/N keep her gaze on him, head held high, back straight, but Roman still sensed what was behind, tension, heavy air. It was since he said he would no longer have regrets that Roman had seen her react like this and in the last few days the atmosphere had gotten even worse. She didn't comment, didn't ask, she stopped trying to argue, she was good at not showing it, but his wolf could sense it when he lay down next to her at night, saw the way she looked at him. It wasn't a good idea for her to punish his cousins despite what they had done to him, she couldn't stand the prospect of a fight, she had promised to stand by his side no matter what and after a year she still rejected his mark when she shouldn't have even had to choose whether to have it or not, now she also took out the floor plan of her old house even though he had given her another one, one for them, better.

We told her not to act like this, she doesn't need that house. We did everything, we gave everything to her.

He had spent the last year dedicating himself to their bond, proving time and time again that he was worthy, that he would be a good mate for her, he was doing so even facing his own family. Shielding their future family even before their bloodline was born. Jey e Jimmy had ruined his plans, it wasn’t his fault, he was risking everything for what they would have built together, for their future. He had proven who he was, Y/N had to know, no one before him had ever achieved so much, no one would ever bear such a burden, there was no alpha out there on his level able to take care of her and anyone else. She couldn't think about them again, she couldn’t doubt, it was crazy!

- "What Im doing is to keep everything for us, protect what we have" – he explained to her for the umpteenth time, seeing Y/N stop that attempt of a smile understanding what direction their conversation was taking, as he approached the table.

He didn't like losing his temper with her, he didn't want to, but Y/N had a fastlane to pushing him in any situation and that was definitely the wrong one. Why she was throwing it in his face? At home, while he spent the days preparing to end the mess out there and start again together?!

- "You say it all the time, I know."

Her and her mouth…

- "Because that's the only thing that matters, not sitting here fantasizing about alternatives."

- "Ain't fantasizing about anything. You're so focused that we don't spend more than ten minutes together, I thought we could have a break for a bit, do something together when it's all over... but I guess it's a no if you react like that."

No, she couldn't blame him. This mess wasn't his fault, he was fixing it, it wasn't on him!

- "I don't have time to plan these things, not when I have all the work to do and problems keep piling up! I told you this too. You should have get it by now what has priority and instead we are here discussing because you keep putting these ideas in your head!"

- "My apologies, my Tribal Chief, is that good?" – he heard her reply, mocking him and he froze.

He looked at her angrily, as if they were back to the days when she couldn't stand him and he was always on the verge of exploding. He looked at her out of his mind, mouth twitching, but she wasn't even giving him attention, too busy keeping her eyes somewhere other than him, in an act of submission that was more a provocation than an apology. He ran a hand over his beard, clenching his jaw, but it was just too much and he lowered himself, leaning on the table to tower over her. Her scent, so familiar, usually so comforting, immediately filled his lungs, a regenerating peace that clashed with their fatigue and that Roman felt once more from Y/N, her body stiffening as soon as his breath hit her cheek.

He was the Tribal Chief and would remain so until God woke him up again. People out there could have planned trials, clashes, attacks, anything, nothing would have changed. But she was different, she was not one of those folks. Y/N might not have his mark, she might claim every freedom she wanted, Roman would put up with it to please her, to make her happy, because she deserved it, but still didn't change anything. They wouldn't go back to those hellish days where they were nothing.

- "I'm more than that to you" – he reminded, seeing her nod.

- "I know" – she replied immediately, finally turning around.

Her eyes, dark as the water of the river that ran through Roman’s land, almost seemed to suck him in. Two sharp chasms where he had looked for her for months, until found her huddled at the bottom waiting for him. Roman had dragged her out of there, he had given her everything, all of himself and he would do it again every day, without holding back or thinking about it and that was exactly why he was acting like that. If it wasn't for him, she would still be there, alone and with no future.

- "Make that stuff disappear before I do it" – he ordered, straightening up.

Y/N didn't move, her eyes still on him, as Roman decided he'd had enough of that pause, walking away. Her reaction reached him through the bond, when he crossed the threshold to go back inside: a mixture of anger, pain and sadness.

It hurts.

It hit him like a wave, alarming his wolf despite the fight, but it disappeared just as quickly, as if Y/N had wiped it away and Roman took a second to look at her through the windows, check, while she gathered everything on the table, head down and in silence.

He had to focus on what needed to be done. Distractions were just more problems.

We’re doing it for everyone. She will understand soon.

***

She had put everything back in his office, locking the desk drawer almost throwing away the key.

Why is he acting like this? What did we do wrong?

Her she-wolf felt confused, hurt and so was Y/N, with a good amount of anger on top of that. She was trying with all of herself, she was doing everything every day to make things work, to not disappoint him, to be up to the task, to not miss the opportunity for a good life. She had learned to ignore what didn't require a reaction, to be understanding when with anyone else would have freaked out, she was trying to be a better version of herself for her sake and for Roman. Was it such a bad idea? She knew Roman was fighting for their place, for his packland, but she hadn't suggested to leave everything and disappear, she would never have done it because she knew what it meant, she just thought they might have a safe space somewhere else... in a future less sad and complicated. That house was important to Y/N, she wanted to do her part, help, give back doing something like Roman had done with the house they lived in now, share.

It's already his though.

His property... that's why he snapped?

Roman had considered it a waste of time, a fantasy to be put away... after all, why he should pay attention to something no one wanted to take away at that moment? something far from his family war, from the packland. It already belonged to him, her she-wolf was right to justify him, Y/N had pushed him first, there was nothing to share or fix there and Jimmy's words came back to her mind. She had thought about doing something for them and instead she had really wasted time.

“The house… you bought it to give her nowhere to run away from you.”

It was a gift. For us.

Roman had said so and Y/N had felt so special. But it had his name on it, everything, every sheet of paper.

He wanted to make us happy. The best for us.

“I don't want you to go there, okay? This is your place now, it's your home and you have to stay here. But one day maybe we can fix it and go together.”

One day. Maybe…

Together.

Maybe? now the memory sounded like a dad tricking his daughter into not throwing a tantrum.

Smell of aftershave mixed with something familiar distracted Y/N, reminding her that she was still in the office and she turned to stare at the door just before seeing Paul arrive with a folder of documents in his arms.

- "Y/N! I thought you were out for one of your runs" – he said after a second too long, tone surprised and suspicious, as he looked at her standing there –"… you alright? "

No one was allowed to go upstairs unless it was necessary, but business those days seemed a matter of life and death, so it was hardly surprising. The last safe place for her would have been the bathroom.

- "You seem a bit…"

- "Take comments for yourself, there's no point in having a conversation" – she said, moving away from the desk with the intention of disappearing, but Paul wouldn't have been Paul if he hadn't decided to ruin her day already messed up.

- "Of course not, but I think you’ll want to know I went to talk with the twins. Didn’t go as hoped. Jey… he doesn't listen" – he admitted with disappointment, taking her place to add more documents to those already placed everywhere and Y/N finally recognized what that other scent on him was.

- "He doesn't like you, it was pretty obvious."

The idea of talking sense to Jey had been stupid. Maybe Jimmy could have been a possibility even if he was the one who started shit, he would have talked to a wall regardless of his sympathies, but Jey? No, Jey wasn't made for those things and both him and Y/N shared the same opinion of Paul. Sure he had had more time to learn to tolerate the so called wiseman, but Y/N had known from the very first moment he wouldn't accept any proposal Paul was going to make him.

- "You do though. He allowed Solo and you to stay if… well you know – he threw it there with such nonchalance, but she wasn't willing to tolerate, it was the wrong day – "he’s attached to you, he think about you as someone to protect."

What is he trying to say?!

- "What I know is that they shouldn't fight and that you Paul, said you would make sure to avoid it."

The brilliant idea of saving her during the meeting a few days before had taken Y/N by surprise too, there was no agreement or plan behind it, she didn't even know why at that moment, with everything that was happening, Jey had decided to expose himself for her. She was almost absolutely certain it wasn't something normal in situations like the one they were in, she was Roman's mate and Jey was threatening to take everything away from him after all, but whatever was the reason it didn't matter because it wasn't what they needed to focus on, especially not Paul.

- "I fear that stopping everything is no longer an option, we don’t have time, they have sworn in front of the family now. Neither of them can back out" – heard him say with a funeral face that didn’t inspire pity in her.

- "So that ridicolous meeting was the point of no return?!" – she snapped and he choked, hands reaching out in an attempt to stop her when Y/N nerves were undergoing yet another stress test.

She respected Roman's family, she respected their traditions, but it was unthinkable to Y/N that a handshake was an unbreakable pact, not when both sides were risking everything and whoever was supposed to advise them, stop them, watched or made things worse. She couldn't, it was something she couldn’t understand. They were a family, they had to act like a family, not fighting.

- "I wouldn't talk like that, let's try to breath now okay? Think about it. There are other ways to swing things in our favor, I'm already working on something. An idea in the right ears works wonders."

- "You're working on something" – she repeated, feeling blood go straight to her head.

Yep, sure, after all they had time to act with calm, there was a week to go and everything was already a disaster, but who cared? They could also sit, chat, think and judge who remained to be sacrificed so they could sip a drink under the patio when their bright future would be on hand.

- "I know, I understand your concern, but if you decided to be more cooperative it would help a lot and speed things up. The twins are stubborn, but Jey making all these decisions on his own could work to our advantage if we prove that he isn't capable of"- he tried, but it wasn't the right day for her to listen his sneaky little games.

- "I won't help you making anyone believe anything. You are the wiseman, be the wiseman, find a way, just do it" – she silenced him, leaving the office without waiting an answer.

She wanted that fight, everything to end once and for all, she wanted to go back to months ago when Y/N had thought she could have everything missing in her life, she wanted a family, Roman to annoy her with his daily nonsense instead of dramas to survive and manipulations on a daily basis. She was tired and for the first time since the beginning even if she tried hard… she couldn't see the end.

Breath. Calm down. Don’t lose control, we can’t allow it. Breath.

***

Right, left, right, left, right, left again. The punching bag was easy to predict every time Roman hit it, Jey wouldn't follow those times when they would have been face to face. At some point he would shift, it was the only way he had to really bring Roman down. As both man and wolf, Roman was bigger than his cousin, bruises and broken bones wouldn't keep him down once they were out there, Jey would have to do more and to do so he would have no choice. He was fast, he would aim for multiple points, targeting him, Roman only needed one, the right one, like with the punching bag.

When he hit it seriously, the chain holding it up gave way, sending it down and putting Roman face to face with Solo, standing silently there, even though he hadn't asked to see him.

- "What's up?" – he asked, catching his breath and kicking the punching bag away.

- "He was talking to Y/N upstairs" – Solo said, without mincing words and Roman stopped, staring at him, his sweaty brow furrowed in an attempt to understand.

Y/N couldn't stand the wiseman. She had never liked him, from the first day, it had taken months to convince her to not growl when he approached and now they were talking? Alone upstairs, while he was there training?

- "About what?" – Roman asked, but Solo shrugged his shoulders in a heavy silence Roman had to accept, hiding his annoyance with a grimace.

First in his land. Then in his family. Now in his house. No… not that time.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @sortudademais @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @wrestlingprincess80

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (Part Fifteen)🌹

Part 14🌹

A/N: wow... it's almost like it's almost been 3 months and i have to be awake in 2 hours... not that's real huh... ANYWAYS! please lemme know what you think and much love:)

not very proof read!!

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You went numb. Your jaw clenched while your eyes squinted at the two in front of you. It was official: you must have gone as mad as Dr. Gaul. Your head was shaking vigorously as you backed away. The young man—so-called Otto—looked at you as if you were a fragile vase breaking apart, while the older—Alreic—paid your actions no mind, swallowed by exhilaration.

You couldn't take your eyes off Otto, an action he mirrored. The notorious Embridge eyes that you and your brother shared were not staring back at you. Arachne stepped toward you in concern, but you were quick to put a swift hand out, motioning for her to halt. Your gaze never left the young man, and with each passing second, he seemed to become more anxious, continually flicking his gaze back and forth between you and your uncle.

It has to be your uncle.

You can't afford to lose any last grip on your sanity on an increasingly possible vision. The Embridge house ring was dull but still shone brightly on his finger. You trailed your sight upwards, and every feature was just as you remembered, although in far rougher shape. The most damning evidence: a pair of identical eyes connected with your own. Wait.

This entire situation might have been a fragment of your imagination, but what you saw in front of you was subtle yet no doubt happening. Purple started seeping in from the outside of your uncle's irises and making its way to the pupil. His eyes were a beautiful horror.

"Rowan, take Maude Ivory and our guest outside. Now."

Otto emphasized the urgency in his tense expression, effectively leaving no room for opposition from the usually argumentative girl. He must have noticed the change in tandem. Rowan and Maude Ivory made their way to the door, albeit reluctantly, while Arachne stood still and defiant in response to the stranger’s orders. Chestnut eyes were trained on you while yours never left the amethysts growing in your uncle's irises. You nodded your head solemnly. The air felt stiff and still, only broken by the eventual movement of a hesitant Arachne out the door. As soon as the wood was shut, Otto wasted no time turning to you.

"Cloria, we need to go."

You refused to look at "Otto" as he urged your departure. Something was happening to the last of your family, and there was no way an imposter was going to stop you from finding out.

"That's not my name."

Your voice was dripping with malice directed towards Otto, but it sparked something in your uncle. His eyes were nearly coated in purple ink as they began assessing you.

"Your name is Cloria."

You sighed as a heavy burden set itself upon your shoulders. How do you tell a man that his entire family, save you, are with the wind? Yet again, what exactly has he been doing in the woods that his forces have been butchered in for the past 13 years? Your eyes softened, as did your voice, before it was cut in with one that was begging to burn agitation within you.

"Cloria, we really need to get going!"

There was a staunch emphasis on the name. You whipped your head to the boy as irritation clouded your judgment.

"And what exactly is your name?"

His eyes were now drowned in terror as they switched back to the purple ones of your uncle, who began glaring in skepticism. It was Uncle Alreic who was the one to beat the boy from speaking this time.

"Cloria, you know that is Otto."

Trepidation made its way down your throat as you stepped towards the rightful heir of House Embridge.

"Uncle Alreic—"

A hand harshly gripped your wrist as you were dragged away. There was no need to check the perpetrator as you burst your way out of his tight hold, positively fuming.

"Cloria—"

"I'm not Cloria!"

Your patience had been obliterated. Weeks of constant reminders and pity for your mother's passing, with the addition of the mess that was the Tenth Hunger Games, had broken you. You refused to be a playing piece in yet another one of Casca Highbottom's sick games. You stood face to face with the man who seemed to be the ultimate breaking point of your sanity. He reached for you again.

"You don't understand! Just go along with it for now!"

He whispered sharply as you dodged his attempt. You didn't trust him in the slightest, but the sincerity—and terror—in his eyes were not lies. Honest or not, you needed answers at once. Your mouth opened to retort when all noise became muffled ringing. When your vision cleared from the blackness of your previously shut eyes, horror closed the airways in your body upon the new sight. A fresh bullet in the wood. Only a centimeter away from your skull.

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It was just supposed to be a normal day. Well, the new “normal” the currently humming brunette was trying to get used to. The woods were understandably frightening to those not used to their depth and vastness. However, for the charming girl, it was a comfort. Just her, the birds, the trees, and the wind.

The several soaring birds above were whistling along with the young woman. Dressed in an off-white, flowy dress with a light, colorful embroidered shawl wrapped around her and stunning pink carnations in hand, she felt a peace that had been hard to find lately. The breeze brushed through her hair and lifted the worries off her shoulders. Looking ahead through the trees, an old and crumbling cottage came into view.

Wild vines and weeds had overtaken the feeble structure, covering up the shattered windows. But it wasn’t the cabin that had drawn the woman over. Rather, the slight clearing behind it. There sat three cracking and cheaply made gravestones with a new and well-made one situated farthest to the right. She dusted off her dress and cleared her throat as she lifted her skirt to kneel in front of the most recent addition to the small graveyard. Her hand traced over the letters engraved and downwards to the dirt. The previous bunch of flowers was beginning to decay, so she quickly added their replacement. Rays of the late evening sun amplified the beauty of the flowers’ pink hue. The young woman had a fascination with plants and flowers, especially with their meanings. The pink carnation was a sentimental favorite due to its symbolism of a vow to never forget the recipient. In this case, it was none other than Jesup Diggs.

“Still here.”

It was barely a whisper. Her hand began fumbling with the surrounding grass.

“He misses you a lot. We all do. The other day, Rowan made the finest arrow I’ve ever seen, and the first person she ran to tell was you until she remembered. Not even Otto. Though, I’m sure she scampered her way here to tell you already.”

The laugh was light and sorrowful. Every trip to visit hurt. She marked off the days, waiting for the one when her smile would be genuine. Her head turned upwards, and she noticed the sunlight waning through the branches. If she wanted to get home before sundown, then she needed to start making her way to her ultimate destination. The brunette assured the steadiness of the flowers once more and lifted herself up. Her hands brushed off the slightest coat of dirt beginning to form as she let out a huff and a weak smile.

“Thank you.”

With that hushed gratitude, the girl in the white dress began picking up speed through the woods. It didn’t take longer than a few minutes for yet another aging cottage to bloom into sight. The two young girls bickering were a familiar sight that brought no concern, although the same could not be said for the foreign woman standing nearby. As the white-dressed girl made it to the creaking porch, the red-headed stranger turned towards the new visitor. Her face was awfully familiar, yet the brunette couldn’t place her resemblance.

“Have we met before?”

The redhead had a light and mask-like smirk stretching across her pretty face. Her skin was pale, clean, and clear. An air of status projected off of her. Whoever she may be, she clearly wasn't from Twelve.

The foreigner was leaning on one of the mahogany porch posts and oddly seemed to relax at the inquisition.

"No matter. Everyone knows you, isn't that right, songbird?"

Maude Ivory and Rowan paused their back-and-forth for the odd exchange. The young eyes drifted from one to the other waiting girl. As the moment stretched on into an uncomfortable chokehold, Maude Ivory couldn’t handle it anymore.

“We found them in the woods!”

Her voice was high-pitched as she looked at the tan girl she called a sister. The blonde’s outburst was backed up by Rowan’s fervent nods behind her shoulder.

“Them?”

“Yeah, she’s in there with Otto and Dad right now. Otto kicked us out because Dad is acting weird again.”

This was news to the brunette. The introduction of two strangers who had garnered her sister's infatuation was not much of a surprise; she and Rowan spent their time listening in on all the local gossip and stories. One look towards the sharp gaze of the foreigner assured her that whoever her companion was, she must be from the same opulent land.

A land of opulence.

There was only one place in all of Panem that held that title.

The girl with auburn locks watched as the pieces connected in the deep brown eyes of the Hunger Games' newest winner. Just as soon as it was connected, it was shattered along with the wood beside your head. The gunshot ricocheted into the ears of the now petrified group. They were inside in an instant, never questioning their running towards gunfire.

Your eyes locked onto the hole that would have been inside your head if you had only moved the slightest bit more to the left. However, with four pairs of feet rushing towards the still-smoking scene, your gaze connected with the newest addition to the party.

“Lucy Gray?”

“Y/N?”

Otto, Rowan, and Maude Ivory were getting—or already had—blistering headaches with the number of twists that had happened in the short time span. Otto may have been taken off guard for a second, but that was all the time he could afford. He was quick to start demanding their evacuation. Unlike with you, he kept his eyes on the girls instead of Alreic as he tried to persuade them to safety.

You looked at Arachne. Tears swam in her eyes, along with emotions flickering far too fast to name. Your attention was ripped away from her as the sound of a gun being readied was heard. Otto turned his body to face the maddened Alreic while using his body to shield the three Twelve natives.

Alreic’s hands were shaking as his amethyst orbs twitched in and out of focus. His gun swiped through the air as it refocused its aim on you. The action could be argued as foolish, but you stood as still as stone as he took uncoordinated steps toward you. Otto was shouting at him to stop, each shout more pleading than the last, yet he refused to leave his post as a shield. You never looked away from the maddened man who once held you so tightly.

He could be anywhere in the world, for however long, have his eyes and behavior flip instantly, but you knew. You saw the shade before they changed. Eyes could distract, but they can never lie.

Your breathing was unrhythmic while your body shook from tension. The barrel of the gun was still scorching as it made its imprint on your forehead. You had never seen such a grotesque wonder like the eyes that burned their own marks into you.

“What have you done to Cloria, thief?”

His scabbed hands made their way to your necklace and pulled you impossibly closer to the barrel. The pain was searing from both the pressure and the burning gunpowder heat. Your fists began curling as your plan was being set into motion. As your silence stretched for too long, his patience stretched too thin. Your eyes tracked his finger’s movement to the trigger. He planned his aim, and so did you. Just as you moved your arm back and out into a cross swing, your fist met a different target.

Arachne stood to the side as she watched the gun meet your head. Her sensibility urged her to remain still, but rationality had no chance of winning this round. Arachne had watched the lights flicker out of your usually bright eyes once before. She had stood still far too long.

All the other present members in the room were too preoccupied to notice her quiet movement towards the long-abandoned tea. She slowly grabbed the metal tray beneath the pot and stalked her way behind the armed man. Just as you had, she watched his finger begin to close in on the trigger, and action was taken. Only the slightest moment before you, she whipped the rusty metal tray across the unwell man’s head, causing him to immediately collapse to the ground. You could fight fast, but were too slow to realize that your fist was hitting Arachne instead of Alreic. A series of screams echoed throughout the room: Arachne’s was a yelp of pain, yours a mixture of shock and regret, the rest were shouts of horror at the violent scene.

“The hell was that for?!”

Arachne’s voice was gruff as she turned, gripping her now-marked skin. The pain in your knuckles began making itself present as the adrenaline wore off.

“Me?! What did you think you were doing?”

“You just expected me to let you take the hit?!”

“Well, that is what you did last time.”

You and Arachne’s blaring squabble was interrupted by the sweet honey of Lucy Gray Baird’s voice. You both turned your heads to the singer as she looked at Arachne unimpressed. The scowl upon Arachne’s face was deadly, only enhanced by the black mark forming on the left side of her cheek. Otto was about to start throwing punches of his own out of frustration. There was just too much, too fast. Otto hated change and fuss—things that had happened constantly since you showed up. Muffled groans echoed off his calloused hands as he covered his face.

“Someone start talking.”

Rowan gave a sidelong glance toward her distressed brother before quietly addressing her own concerns.

“Is my dad going to be okay?”

Otto huffed lightly as he mumbled a soft, “Not you, Rowan.” You broke slightly at the wobbliness of her voice. You didn’t have much experience with kids—there weren’t many your age in the Capitol—but you were sure that seeing one’s father unconscious on the floor was rattling for anyone.

“He will be fine from the hit. Possible headaches or pain, but it’s not poisoning him.”

You deliberately added the last point to get Otto to start talking. Substance abuse is an ugly post-war scar many in the Capitol bear, so you knew it well. The violet hue of Alreic’s eyes practically spelled out his suffering.

“Morphling?” Arachne questioned as she took in the man’s sickly pale and sweating face. You were quick to refute, still waiting for the right person to start explaining.

“Can’t be. Morphling doesn’t create hallucinations or alter the iris.”

You bore into Otto’s fidgeting eyes as you knew your assumption was the grave truth.

“It is hallucinations, isn’t it?”

Otto was often a level-headed man. He was an observer and was satisfied with simple living. The personalities living within the cabin he called home may not be the easiest of individuals, but he wouldn’t change the way he chose to live his life. Even with all the demons that haunt the shadows along the walls and the eerily silent moments, Otto could live with all the baggage his loved ones, including the very man knocked out on the floor, carried. What he couldn’t handle was some stranger barging into his home and acting as if he was the invader.

“Surprised they don’t teach you to speak your mind in the Capitol, since you’re the ones who control the rest of ours.”

His voice was stoic and icy—the kind of tone that Rowan knew her brother only used when rage burned straight through his sensibility. Something must have occurred for him to speak to someone from the Capitol like that so clearly.

“Well, at least you could guess where I’m from, unlike my name—even though I said repeatedly I wasn’t Cloria.”

“If I told him any different, he would have attacked you!”

“I had a plan!”

“Oh, getting shot, Y/N?!”

“So you do know my name.”

The two of you were in a trance of hardened glares and clenched jaws. Neither one of you was willing to concede to the other. Even if he wasn’t related to you, you both shared an unhealthy amount of stubbornness.

Rowan noticed this similarity and figured you all would be standing there indefinitely if no one intervened. Besides, she was curious to see where this conversation was going.

“We know all your names. Yours, Cloria, your Aunt Floria. Otto, of course. There was also Crassus Snow, and what was his name? Cala? Oh! Casca Highbottom.”

The further along her list went, the more your tough exterior broke. You had a raging vendetta against the last man, but there was no doubt that you were broken because of Highbottom's actions—of what he stole.

You examined Rowan's oddly composed face and behavior. Her mother must have been a beautiful woman. Rowan inherited her lips, full nose, and adorable dimples. She had a light to her. It shone through her eyes, smile, and cheeks. That was fully Rowan.

But those eyes. Those were her father's. They were Embridge. She was Embridge. One of three in the room. One was you. One was your still-unconscious uncle. No room for the lies of “Otto.”

“So you decided to steal Otto's name?”

You could visibly see and figuratively feel the roots of his soft curls being pulled to their last strength. You didn't care. After all you’ve been through, you simply didn’t care about his frustration. You demanded answers, and you weren't going to abandon your chance.

“I didn't steal anything! I was given it. I earned it!”

“Earned it? Earned it?! There is nothing anyone can do to earn my brother's name!”

It was no secret how highly you held your brother and his memory. It is only natural for your old memories to become more favorable to Otto. You only remember the good, and all other protests to that image are incomprehensible.

It was a stubborn position that was rivaled only by the curly-haired man in front of you. He had had enough judgment from a stranger in his own home about a life you knew nothing about.

“The only thing I need to do to earn your brother's name is be a murderer.”

You flinched at his grave and final tone as your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, anger, and a slight grief you could not submit to. But the man was not yet finished with blows.

“And what would you know about what I have done for your uncle? I have been here for the past nine years! Where were you? I took care of him when he was too intoxicated to function. Where were you?! I accepted the illusion he put on me because it gave him sanity when he had none left. I take care of him, his daughter, and the fragments of his memories. I am the one who is helping him recover. I am the one who feeds and cleans him. I am the one who has been here! WHERE WERE YOU?!”

His knuckles were white with burning rage at your condescension. He never wished for a different life. Perhaps a more improved version of the one he had, but never different. It was not one many would choose, but he would every time, no matter its difficulties. However, to have you saunter in as if he were a fraud was the last crack to break the dam. The dark eyes of the man glared at you, fully expecting you to lash right back but slightly deflated when tears streamed down your cheek. Your jaw was no longer set with offense but trembling along with your chapped lips. Your mouth opened and closed several times, unsure of what to say. What could you say besides the weak and airy “We—I—didn’t know”?

Lucy Gray stepped towards you with a sympathetic look of sorrow dancing in her orbs. Her hand graced your shoulder, but as soon as it touched, you backed away. Your eyes began glossing with ever-regenerating tears that clung to your lashes as you focused solely on the still cold form of your uncle. Arachne noticed that if she didn’t do something, you would slip away in sorrow.

“Y/N—”

“I—I didn’t know. We didn’t know. How did he?”

Your breaths were coming in fast and shallow as you started hyperventilating. Thoughts spiraled and spread while your fingers made their way through your hair out of stress. Arachne made her way to your side, but even in your own spiral, you were swift in evading her.

“Why didn’t he say? What could he possibly want?!” Your voice transformed from panicked whispers to an urgent shriek, fear and agony seeping in. “They would have tried to help! They would have come! Oh, Aunt Fiora! Oh!”

Otto watched in increasing discomfort. Whatever assumptions he had made of you were starting to look misplaced as you paced in a tight box formation, your hands moving downwards from your hair to your face. Red lines grew angrily across your features from your nails. Over and over. Grating your hardened keratin scratches madly at your own face.

Arachne ran to your uncharacteristically behaving form to stop any further irritation. After a combative struggle to capture your hands and keep them away from your face, Arachne had her own tears make an appearance.

Your repetitive attacks had caused silencing red lines to flow across and down your face—your beautiful and bright face, she thought. Arachne didn’t know if the heavy tears washing away the blood were a relief or fuel to the fire. If only you had a glimpse of yourself. You looked near identical to the last final moments of your Aunt Fiora—the one brought to madness by the death of the sleeping yet living man before you.

Chest heaving heavily, scratches burning, and existence crashing, you needed to leave immediately. Your feet planted you on the floor, even as your knees started to buckle from the weight of reality. Arachne forced your movement by dragging your arm, your dazed being following blindly. Her rapid steps were a force to be reckoned with, and one you could only clumsily follow as you were hauled past a troubled Lucy Gray and into the vast woods.

You made it far enough that you were covered by trees on all sides and no longer in view of the decrepit cabin when you collapsed once more. Your fingers traced the transformation of the dirt turning into mud beneath them. Arachne tried her best to comfort you by rubbing circles on your back, though she was painfully lacking experience. The sun began setting, casting an orange glow over your mirage of heartbreak. Somewhere through your sobs, you managed to pour out words that had been festering.

“I miss him so, so much.”

Arachne didn’t hesitate to continue her attempts at comfort as you continued to cry.

“Otto would be so proud of who you are.”

“I meant Coryo.”

The name caused pause in the redhead's hands and heart. You’ve just gone through so much, and you are thinking about him?

“He wou-would know what to do,” you choked out the words. “He would have known exactly what to do. I miss him so much.”

It was an understatement to you. It was more than longing. It was emptiness. A piece of your being forcibly amputated, leaving you unbalanced.

Your eyes were still a haze of blazing tears, trained on the darkening ground. With your back towards her, you missed Arachne’s own pain. She was always intelligent, cunning, and cold. So why did she become dumb, soft, and warm for the one whose heart would never skip a beat when she walked into a room? For the one who was happy before and after life without her? The one who, when they called out a name, it wasn’t hers.

She knew better than to let herself get hurt by your words. Arachne even actively tried to ensure anything but your love decaying. Yet, emotion was a parasite, and she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

“You have me.”

Her tone was wounded, which caused you to turn around and squeeze her hand in thanks. Your eyes were bloodshot and foreign to her, but the warmth was there, albeit slightly distant.

“Thank you, Ara.”

It should have been enough. There was nothing more to it for you. But Arachne never stopped when it came to you.

“But I’m not the same.”

Arachne cursed herself for looking back at you. Watching the radiating snowflakes on the ring you fidgeted with shine daggers into her heart. Witnessing the confused frown etch itself on your face, waiting for a recognition of her meaning that never reached you.

“Why would you be the same?”

You didn’t mean to hurt her, a fact she knows far too well. Yet, it seems whenever you act with love, it only cuts her deeper—the specific adoration that will never be directed to her. Even with a sentence of decades away from you, your heart refuses to change its target of affection. She couldn’t trust her mouth to answer that question, afraid of what she might reveal and burn. Her saving grace came in the sweet honey voice of Lucy Gray.

“Y/N! Oh, there you are!” Her breath was haggard, and her hair tousled, clear signs of her rush to find you. “I am so sorry; he isn’t usually like that, I swear to you!”

“Which one exactly?” Your tone had a bite to it, foreign to your often sweet tongue. Lucy Gray flinched at your voice. You had already turned your back to start walking in the vague vicinity of the barracks.

“She isn’t usually like that either.” Arachne tried to defend you, which was understandable enough for the singer.

They both picked up their pace to catch up with your blazing trail. Lucy Gray was offering to walk you both back, to which you both agreed, albeit silently. You were not in the mood for conversation or company, but you knew that neither you nor Arachne had any idea where you were going. Tears still rolled down your face as you walked, but they were drying up as anger burned through them. Arachne slipped back into her usual impenetrable persona. Lucy Gray felt helpless.

“Highbottom told me what happened. What Coryo did.”

Your steps didn’t falter. Your eyes were cemented forward, the evening sun setting your skin alight. The last of your tears had dried upon your still-reddened cheeks.

“Saving your life?”

Lucy Gray knew she was stepping on shaky ground with you now, but she hoped from that night with Coriolanus that you were really the person he said you were. She treaded on with the conversation you clearly wanted no part of.

“He told me that he broke the rules, so they sent him to Eight.”

Arachne’s chestnut eyes bore into the side of your illuminated head, but you were stoic. It was frightening to her.

“So he is.”

Your voice was grated. Your scratches still burned against the open air. The ground beneath your feet even looked like it was breaking slightly more beneath the weight of your fury. You knew what Lucy Gray wanted to know. If you were in your right state of mind, you would never have been acting the way you were. Yet you couldn’t stop the parasite of emotion and pain from overtaking you. The brunette, perhaps foolishly, placed her hand upon your shoulder, causing you to stop and turn. Your sore and reddened eyes met her large and sympathetic ones. You didn’t throw off her hand.

“What did you do for him to get here?”

You flinched slightly. It was terrifying how this practical stranger knew of your sacrifice. You looked towards Arachne, who was lost in her own world of pain as it was yet another reminder of your relentless devotion to another. You sucked in a breath and looked back at the waiting girl.

“I told Highbottom I was the one who did it.”

You gently moved her hand off you and walked somberly on. The sun was getting ever closer to the ground, and you and Arachne needed to get back urgently. Lucy Gray stood there a moment as you and Arachne walked ahead. Coriolanus was not wrong about you.

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Dusk had overtaken the sky by the time you made it back to the barracks. You ushered a quick goodbye to Lucy Gray and returned to your room in unsteady silence with Arachne. She watched as you kept your head down to avoid any attention to your concerning appearance. However, she did notice a certain hazel-eyed Peacekeeper looking longer than the rest. Arachne cursed herself repeatedly in her head as you got ready for bed, completely mute. Why did she ever let you go? But then again, your ghosts would have found you anyway.

Darkness overtook your shared chambers as you both stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t unexpected for Arachne. She hadn’t been able to sleep properly since the Dark Days. Not that anyone could tell. As with everything else, she was able to hide it well. Your mind swirled with the day’s events. You knew you needed to take the time to comprehend it all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. At least not alone. Not with anyone besides the platinum-haired boy who overtook your mind. For your entire life, you always thought of the person you loved the most before sleep. It was first your brother. His smile was what you woke up to for your entire life. Reality for the first few years. Memory for the rest. For a short time, it was your mother’s sweet words and warm hugs. Then it was him.

Images of his pearly white smile sleeping on the bug-infested floor of his crumbling apartment so you could get a semblance of comfort on his undersized bed were common and comforting. It hit you that you might one day forget the stench of cabbage that wafted through the ancient hallway of his home. That you might forget the cracks on the wall that created a mosaic that mesmerized you while you waited for him to get ready. You swore you would never forget him, and you wouldn’t. Couldn’t. But what if you forgot all the reasons you loved him and he you?

“You are going to see him again. I swear to you.”

Arachne’s voice was clear and authoritative, yet the most genuine you’d heard. She still didn’t look at you, even though she could feel your gaze. You said nothing and returned to your former position. Sleep overtook you as you thought of your very complicated Arachne.

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The next morning brought with it warm sun rays that cast shadows from the trees facing the light. You woke up before Arachne and got ready while she fidgeted in her sleep. Struggle was evident, and even in sleep, you could see the bags beneath her eyes. Unfortunately, you both needed to make good first impressions, even if those here were technically below your standing as Capitol citizens. A good thing that your scratches from yesterday healed significantly, now only slight lines. Arachne’s bruise was another story but her fierce gaze was more tha enough to silence questioning. Your main worry was getting to your orientation on time.

“Ara, time to wake up.” Absolutely nothing.

You could have tried a second time or lightly shaken her awake, but you were in the mood for some fun. Pillow in hand and grin on face, you started plummeting the poor girl with the feathered item until her shrieks were heard, followed by your laughter.

You backed off as you came face to face with her very grouchy glare, to which you could only innocently smile with all teeth showing.

“Glad to see you are the embodiment of sunshine again.”

“And same to see you as sour as a lemon. Your nice act freaked me out.”

You settled back on your made bed as she got up and ready. She gave you a light snarl, which you took proudly. After yesterday’s events, you were unsure where you stood with her or really anyone. But to your relief, Arachne was willing to let it go for now and get back to your rekindled friendship, which came along with its fold of bickering and friendly taunts.

The two of you were eating your breakfast in the cafeteria—well, Arachne was trying to.

“Stop picking at it, Ara. Just close your eyes and suck it up.”

Looking at the gray gooey substance that was supposed to pass as nutrients, even you were slightly unsure.

“I think it might suck me up instead.”

You were going to retort with another plea for her to eat her food when a tray setting down next to you was heard. The hazel-eyed and kind-smiled boy you met in the registration line yesterday gave you a sweet “good morning!” Arachne looked between you two with suspicion, especially at the brown-haired boy who just made himself welcome at her table. She looked at his uniform and weapons on his belt, and it was clear he was a Peacekeeper. They were roomed with three other trainees, so he clearly had acquaintances to sit with. Yet here he was, looking at you in a way that made her stomach churn.

“Did they kick you out of their group already?”

At her cold and flat tone, the boy suddenly seemed to realize that you weren’t alone. He sheepishly turned toward the glare of Arachne Crane. His eyes sold away his confusion at her words. Before any more cryptic and surely rude words could spurt from her lips, you stepped in.

“Ignore Arachne, she has the unfortunate case of being herself.” Her snort was loud and a signal to the young man.

He turned away hesitantly from the still squinting ginger. He picked at his food as he tried to explain himself.

“Sorry to barge in. I actually get along with my fellow keepers; just thought I could also extend friendship to the researchers here too. Besides, I never got to know your name.”

You smiled softly at him (causing an internal gag from Arachne) and laughed (a melodious sound to the young man).

“Well, you never told me yours either, did you?”

He smiled downwards at his food and nodded, knowing you got him there. His hazel eyes flashed to you beneath his lashes. “Cassian Slate.”

“Y/N Vaun.”

“Arachne Crane. Wonderful, we are all the greatest of friends. You spread friendship to both sides of the barracks and solved world peace. You can leave now.”

A reprimanding look was sent her way by you but thoroughly ignored as she stared daggers into this Cassian. He huffed a breath and got the hint as he started picking up his food. You attempted to try and stop him, but he assured you it was no problem.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll see you again. It’s a small district after all.”

Cassian flashed a charming smile and made his way to his peers, who welcomed him warmly. When you turned back to face Arachne, she had her eyes closed as her spoon trembled on its way to her lips.

“Well, aren’t you the social butterfly?”

“I like my personal space.”

You took a look around at the long metal table that only you and Arachne occupied. There was an awkward amount of empty space.

The goo that passed for yogurt finally made its way past her lips and just as fast, out and into a napkin. You heaved a breath and took your empty tray and hers to throw out while she tried to wash away the taste with water. She was still gagging and squinting in disgust as you were walking out and into the research center.

“Remember, you chose this.”

“Stop holding it over my head, would you?”

You smirked slightly as you turned toward the front where an elderly man with tanned skin and gray eyes addressed the rest of the scientists. The lot was briefed on your positions and jobs, of which you were thankfully paired with Arachne. Your jobs were to capture a specific type of mixed breed: the mockingjay. Pictures and descriptions of the hybrid were taught to your decently sized group. Several pairs were to scavenge separate woods all over the district. You and Arachne were assigned to the southern part of the forest by your barracks. The very same area where your Uncle Aleric lived.

When you all were dismissed to grab your equipment and get started, Arachne fell into step with you. “Some luck you have.”

You shook your head and grabbed a cart full of cages. “We have weeks to cover the ground; we don’t have to deal with it today.”

And you didn’t. Your treks didn’t get you too deeply, which meant you didn’t find many mockingjays. However, that doesn’t mean you didn’t find any. The first one you found, you were fascinated. You walked softly towards the small bird, expecting it to fly away. Instead, it stood its ground and bore its dark orbs into your own. A light “hello” went past your lips. Then it was returned to you by the bird, which caused a surprised laugh to tumble its way out of your lungs. Slowly, your laugh bounced off the trees and overtook the chirping of the woods. A chorus of your giggles was repeated and amplified by the swirling mockingjays above your head. It went from a spectacle to a mocking sensation. You felt unsettled by the never-ending sound. Over and over again. All at once, it was silenced. In a large net cast by Arachne, a gaggle of the mockingjays tried to escape. The rest flew away in fright. Arachne looked from the birds to you with a grimace.

“I did not sign up for that.”

You readily nodded your head in agreement and helped her get the birds in their cages to take back. As you walked away, the further you got from the mockingjays, you were too far to realize they picked up from where they left off, your laughter still ringing. It rang until it hit the ears of the one aching for it.

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It had been a week of venturing through the trees and capturing the odd creatures. You had yet to set foot off the barrack grounds and into the actual district, as you kept yourself occupied with your work—a trait Arachne was quick to taunt you on. “Always the overachiever,” she would say under her breath as you studied the few sources of biological components of the hybrids. However, no matter how much time it took, Arachne was fine being stuck inside because she would be stuck with you—a version of you she was sure was lost after all you’ve endured.

Your comfortable routine inside was abruptly interrupted by the sudden knock on your gray-paneled door. You looked up from your papers and Arachne from yet another book, sharing a confused glance. Arachne surely made no move to build connections with others, and while you had been friendly, nothing of true meaning had formed. Well, besides Cassian, but you had seen very little of him due to his much more intense peacekeeper duties. After yet another hard knock, you snapped out of your daze and made your way to the noise. In front of you stood one of your peers with a blinding smile. Anya, a pretty caramel-skinned girl with a sickle-like birthmark below her right eye, was nearly bouncing off the walls in excitement.

“We’ve been given leave passes for the weekend! All of us are going to the Hob, and you guys should join!”

Arachne had joined you and peeked over your shoulder at the girl. She had no interest in “connecting” with your peers, but she did want to see Twelve and really learn the livelihoods here. Whatever was going on in the cabin of your uncle’s was certainly not normal. Well, she hoped not. Her chestnut eyes picked up on your lips starting to form an excuse when she cut you off.

“We’ll be there.”

You turned to her satisfied smirk in betrayal. Then the reminder of her reasoning for being here came to your mind. She did want to make her own opinion of the districts, and she couldn’t do that always being locked up in a Capitol-funded barrack and center. Anya paid your little tiff no mind as she lowered her voice yet elevated her enthusiasm.

“I heard peacekeepers are gonna be there too if you know what I mean.” She giggled sweetly at the scandalized thought. You slightly gaped at her words, a thought that thoroughly disgusted you because the only one you wanted to see was hundreds of miles away from you. Arachne raised her eyebrows with arms crossed and a leveled icy gaze.

“They aren’t allowed to take a partner, isn’t that right?”

She laughed yet again, a noise that Arachne later compared to metal grazing metal. Her dark roots shook around her head in amused disagreement. “Well, who said anything about a relationship.”

A snippy “mhm” and a rushed goodbye from you, and the door was firmly shut in the poor girl’s face. You tried to claw your way to the door but were effectively blocked by Arachne as she urged you to get ready instead. “She will be fine, now let’s go.”

You changed into a simple yet elegant blue dress that you hoped wouldn’t catch too many people's attention with its expensive fabric and detailing. Arachne donned a beautiful pair of dark brown pants and an intricately designed black blouse. As you both looked at each other, there was an agreement: you desperately needed to go shopping to get clothes to fit in. The journey to the famed Hob wasn’t too tedious or long, and even if it was, your attention was elsewhere. You knew your gaping and wandering eyes would only bring more attention, but you couldn’t stop it. How could the Capitol and Twelve be in the same country, much less the same world? Smoke and coal clouds colored the sky, even in the darkening sky. Yet, with all the gloom in the sky, the land was covered with a surprising amount of smiles as you entered the Hob. If they could not have the privilege you were unfairly born with, at least they could have this little slice of peace.

The music was blasting and seeped through your bones. Even if you didn’t intend to enjoy your night out too much, you couldn’t stop the smile bursting upon your lips as you spotted Lucy Gray on the stage. She looked happy. At home. Alive. Somehow, of the several hundreds crowding up the dancefloor and bar, she spotted you. Her smile faltered at the memory of your last interaction, but your expression gave her ease. A wink and a grin were flashed back at you before she turned her attention to the rest of the crowd. Arachne, unsurprisingly, pushed her way through, and you could only murmur apologies as you made your way past. Finding a small unoccupied table across the back wall, you both opted in on people-watching. Your eyes wandered across the pairs of people dancing and jumping across the floor. Coal-covered hands and snuffed noses be damned, they were having a time of pure joy. The beat, energy, and enthusiasm of the group inspired you with an idea.

Arachne was hypnotized with watching the door and especially with the arrival of a horde of peacekeepers. Her neck craned ever so slightly, as if looking for someone. Though, her view was blocked by your shining eyes and outstretched hand. The girl’s ever-quizzical eyes scanned your movement. No time was wasted for an answer as you grabbed her hand and dragged her out to the dancefloor.

“Hey!”

Your head was tipped backwards as you cackled at her stiff movements and reluctance to move. Neither of you knew the dance moves of the locals, obviously, but you just grabbed her hands anyway and forced her to move from side to side. The pair of you looked ridiculous as you spun and eventually started jumping around, but you didn’t care. You had gotten the icy-cold Arachne Crane smiling and dancing in District Twelve of all places. For the first time in weeks, your mind had finally cleared, if only for a moment before a silky voice burst in.

“May I have a turn?”

Cassian stood there with a charming grin and dapper dimples on full display. If you didn’t know he was from Two, you would have fully believed he was a Capitol charmer. He stared at you expectantly, but Arachne, as always, had other plans.

“Oh, I would absolutely love to!”

The false enthusiasm was painfully clear, but she grabbed his arm anyway and forcibly tugged him into the center of the dancing and sweating throng of bodies. He looked back to you in alarm while you stared at the back of Arachne’s auburn locks in confusion. What game was she playing at?

No matter, as you suddenly felt the parchedness of your throat. You made your way back towards the bar for a simple glass of water. The most astonishing thing of the night should have been seeing Arachne Crane jumping alongside District Twelve coal miners. But instead, you came face to face with Otto. He nearly dropped the glass he was serving to an impatient customer when he spotted you. A quick apology and huff by the customer, and his full attention was on you. The two of you stood frozen, unsure how to interact after what happened last time. Your often quick-witted brain was halted upon the bile of regret crawling its way up.

“I see you are without your guard dog.”

It took you far too long to realize he was speaking to you civilly and without judgment, well, at least towards you.

“She is busy making someone else miserable, so you are in the clear.” He, much to your relief, laughed and indicated with a tip of his head for you to sit down. Otto was drying off some chipped cups with a ratty towel as you got settled. He asked for your drink of preference and gave you an amused smile when you just wished for water. The color of the substance was a bit off from what you were used to back in the Capitol, but you thanked him nonetheless. Lucy Gray’s soothing voice took up and away any awkwardness between you two as she enthralled you both. Otto’s dark eyes were fully mesmerized by the glowing singer as you studied his features. He was nothing close to your brother on the outside. But maybe you had been too quick to rush judgment on his character.

“I am sorry for acting the way I did and the damage I caused. I am not usually like that. I’ve actually never been like that. I, uhm—”

“I know. I don’t know you, but I could tell something was off. That was before what Lucy Gray told me. I guess I have to say sorry for lashing out too.”

You were quick to refuse as you thought he had all the right—more than you anyhow. He was right when he said he was there for your uncle, even if you didn’t have a choice. The conviction behind your words stopped any further argument upon his tongue. Once again, all conversation ceased to the magnetic Lucy Gray Baird. It was Otto’s turn to take you in.

“Kane. Kane Thatcher.”

You tilted your head, utterly lost at the meaning of his words.

“My name. The real one.” His voice was muttered and mumbled as he confessed. The dark eyes of his avoided yours, but you were patient for them to make their way back to you. You tilted forward, and sincerity painted all your fine features.

“Thank you...Kane.”

He didn’t like his born name, but it didn’t sound too bad from you. It was understandable why you didn’t want to use “Otto,” but he hoped one day, you would be able to. His attention was split from you as several more peacekeepers made their way through, and you swore

you saw a familiar shade of blonde. Hoping for a distraction, you shook your head and turned back to Otto—Kane? Otto? Yet once again, he was hypnotized by the girl on stage. You shifted your line of sight to his and watched a soft smile play upon her lips as he caught Lucy Gray’s eye—a smile just for him. And he could tell too, as he looked down bashfully with a full blush and broad smile. Clearly forgetting you were there, you wasted no time.

“That must have been the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes widened at your words and the realization that you were a firsthand witness to his clear infatuation. You could only beam at him, smoothing out any tension between the two of you. Unfortunately, all sweetness in the room was cut short by the very unwelcome shout of Billy Taupe.

“Lucy Gray!”

You turned your head and saw the scruffy man who had effectively sent Lucy Gray to a death sentence for his own mistakes. Following him was a high-pitched girl with short red hair and a nasty scowl.

“Billy Taupe!” The man scurried his way towards the brunette, who was obviously uncomfortable with his presence. He paid no mind to the girl who he now called his girlfriend, Mayfair.

“You’re sounding kind of thin, Lucy Gray. You’re all sounding thin without me, no?”

“Billy! You swore you wouldn’t play with them again, Billy Taupe.”

Stomping up to the raggedy man, Mayfair was in for a surprise as she was pushed aside harshly. You got up in surprise as Otto tensed. Billy was getting closer to Lucy Gray while she tried to urge the crowd to calm down. She wasn’t able to do the same as he got closer and closer to her. You turned to Otto, who had a special kind of fury burning in his dark orbs—one you’d only seen in Coriolanus Snow. In the arena.

“You going to do something, or am I?”

Otto gave you one last look as he started making his long and determined strides towards Billy, who had now grabbed the skirt of Lucy Gray.

“I know you miss me, Lucy Gray!”

“Get your hands off me right now! Get your hands off me, Billy Taupe. After what you did to me, you get your hands off me right now, or I swear I will take a snake and—”

“Don’t touch her!”

And with that, Otto’s fist flew and hit the target of Billy’s face with a deafening smash. They tumbled to the floor, with Otto pinning the offender to the ground and relentlessly hitting him. He knew he would be facing the wrath of the peacekeepers soon enough, but it was worth it. Soon enough, the men and women who were expecting a day off were trying to break up a fight. You scanned for Arachne; the last you saw her, she was close to the action, but instead, you saw a hallucination. That’s what it must have been. There was no way that Coriolanus Snow was only mere feet away from you. Your Coryo. He was trying to get his own hits on Billy but was stopped by Sejanus. Sejanus too? Coryo’s infamous blonde head, albeit shaven, lifted and the eyes that haunted your mind met yours. Across the horde of violence, you saw the love of your life. Your breath started coming in quick and heavy breaths. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not. Of course it wasn’t; Coryo should have been in Eight. The battle between reality and vision was interrupted as you were collateral damage of a shove by a very muscular and shaven man. You stumbled and almost collapsed before an arm latched onto yours.

“Let’s get out of here while we can, Ace.”

You let Arachne tow you to safety; the night air of Twelve. She intended to walk straight back to the barracks before any trouble followed you, but you pulled her to a halt. Her eyes rolled as she tried to urge you forward.

“Come on, Ace. I don’t want to find out what will happen if we don’t get back in time.”

“I saw him. I saw Coryo.”

All resistance was broken when his name was breathed out by you. She expected you to start smiling and jumping for joy, but all she received was a hollowed look.

“He wasn’t real. I’m losing it, Ara. I’m seeing things. I’m getting sick too often. Something is happening to me and—”

Arachne silenced your despair as she crushed you in a hug. You were stiff but eventually started melting as tears rained down. You were so sick of the tears, the sickness, all of it. She never let go as she comforted you.

“What if you weren’t seeing things, Ace?”

While she tried to offer comfort, you pushed her away with a look of disgust and betrayal.

“I am losing it, Arachne, and you’re just playing into it?!”

“What?! No, Y/N—”

“He isn’t here, I know that! Whatever you’re trying to play at, leave me and especially him out of it! Don’t—don’t give me that hope.” You stared her down even as you broke down. Arachne felt herself cracking with you. She knew you weren’t well, but she hated that you felt it yourself—that you fully believed you were deluded to see hallucinations. The moonlight illuminated your tear-stricken yet still stunning face. She didn’t know if you would accept or if her plan would actually work, but she tenderly whispered out for you to follow her.

The auburn-haired girl turned around and didn’t fully expect you to follow, but, to her relief, you did. You were unsure why exactly, but you were so exhausted you had no fight left in you. Besides, you didn’t want to be on the streets by yourself.

Though, you would not be on the streets for long as you quickly entered a section of the vast woods. Arachne walked through as if she were an expert, even in the moonlight. Your march led the two of you to an opening with a flowered field and a large spiraled tree. It was beautiful, but your mind and heart had no room for beauty. You had truly thought you had gotten even the slightest bit better, but tonight was only a reinforcement of your “brokenness.”

You continued following Arachne to the middle of the field, right beneath the tree. The moonlight was above you, lighting up the entire scenery. She let out a sigh as her eyes returned to you after a quick scan of the area.

“Act as if I am Coriolanus. What would you say to him?”

You blankly stared at her. What in the world? A scoff came from you at her words.

“I mean it, Ace. What would you say?”

“Arachne, I’m not in the mood—”

“Come on, Y/N.”

How was she acting as if you were the weird one for not wanting to pour your heart out for a pretend version of the other half of your being? You threw your hands up in defeat. Sometimes there was no arguing with Arachne, and this was certainly one of those times.

“Why do you even care?!”

“Y/N, please—”

“Okay, fine! I would say that I hate him for his stupid cleverness. I would say that I love and curse his determination. I would shout about how easily he let himself be shipped away from his family—from me.” Your voice was cracking with emotion. “I would be pulling my hair because I would be so frustrated and overwhelmed with how much I love him and the pain that’s caused me because I can’t! Every time we get a moment of happiness, it gets shattered and battered. I would yell at the universe for trying to pull us apart and cry out why he let it happen!”

Arachne felt her heart shatter, piece by piece. It pierced her flesh, and the salt of her inhaled tears seeped in. She asked for this. She caused this. She wants this. She wants this. She forces herself to accept that. If she can’t be the one causing you madness from love, then shouldn’t she be the one to at least give you what you actually want? She will eventually be satisfied enough with having that part in your happiness and love.

She wonders if it is worth it, but no matter how selfish she wants to be, she knows it is when a branch breaks behind you. You spin towards the intruder, and you could physically feel the blood flowing in your veins stop.

There he was. Shaven hair, a far more muscular and fitted frame, and dog tags adorned his neck. But those same glorious eyes. Your imagination must have been extremely detailed, or the impossible was true.

“I will let you yell at me for the rest of our days as long as I can hear your voice.”

You didn’t want to believe it. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t real. Over and over again, that voice of rationality shrieked at you, but yet your feet took cautious steps. He waited patiently, anticipating having you in his arms once more but couldn’t afford startling you. You made it right in front of him when your hands, shaking, rose slowly to his slightly tanned face. When they touched flesh, you felt your heart nearly rip from your chest. Your fingers moved across his fine cheekbones over and over again as you couldn’t believe it. Tears blurred his handsome face, but for once, you welcomed them. Your cheeks burned with the severity of your smile, but you could be bleeding and you wouldn’t care. He was there.

His rough-textured hands covered your own as he joined your beautiful laughter. You were there. You giggled, cackled, and cried while never letting go of him, not that he would let you. All your hysterics were let out as you finally took in his somehow far more grown yet charming features. You took each detail in, committing it to memory. Something Coryo noticed and was adamant to stop because he never wants to be in your memories again. He wants to be your reality. His hands brushed away stray pieces of hair as he took a good hold of you.

His eyes traced every little mark on your radiant face—one he was determined to make his first and last thought while always being his current moment. At once, his all-consuming eyes fluttered closed while he leaned towards you, consuming you. His lips were gentle as they melted into your own, and the only force was yours as you kissed back. Your hand snaked behind his neck while his traveled to your hips. Repeated quick pecks turned into elongated stolen kisses.

Time hadn’t been a concept for you since you laid eyes on him, but some must have passed as you pulled away, flushed and out of breath. Your foreheads were still connected along with your arms around each other. Peace had finally found its way back into your life as you found yourself in Coryo’s embrace.

“So you really love me, huh?”

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@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

[sturnwritess]

Things always end.

[ my first angst 🤨 ] M.S

summary: reader goes to a party and shortly leaves after seeing matt all up on another girl.

warnings: Hard angst, toxic matt, slight mention of alcohol,mentions of drugs, not a happy ending,swearing and cheating.

LEMME KNOW IF U WANT A PT 2.

WC:

pink text: you, purple text: nick, orange text chris

(matt doesnt text in the group chat. since he's tuff)

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

The flashing lights and blasting music and the smell of weed flowing through the house made me nauseous.

Chris and Nick texted me to come to the party in the first place.

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

hey you coming to the party?

i might be, whos all gonna be there?

just a bunch of random influencers and also matt, me and chris are gonna be there too.

ok i will be there, cant wait to see you guys 😚

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

You put on your slim black dress, knowing its matt's favorite dress. You put on your black heels and your red purse. You ordered a uber, and you scrolled through your phone and saw matt, nick and chris already at the party.

You arrive at the house and walk up the drive way, you enter the house and already the smell of weed and the sweaty bodies going straight to your head.

You run straight to the kitchen to find some alcohol, you took a shot of vodka, then another and then one more just for the fuck of it. You leave the kitchen and walk into the living room trying to scan familiar eyes, no luck.

You walk upstairs to see the other living room, you see all three familiar faces but one catches your eye. Seeing that tall,pretty,blonde and green eyed girl on his lap. His face drops when he see's your face drop, he gets the girl off his lap but he's to late. Your already down the damn stairs.

You run down stairs tears falling out of your eyes, fidgeting with your phone trying to call your friend to pick you up. Matt's right behind you trying to get your attention,"y/n! y/n!" no reply from you, your just trying to get out of that damn house.

You feel the alcohol starting to kick in,fuck.You think to yourself. Your hands finally grab the door handle and slam the door in matts face, everyone's attention lands on matt. He doesnt care about everyone else, he tries to get out the door. But that familiar blonde girl taps on his shoulder "matty, what was all that about?" she says. "Nothing, dont worry about it grace." he says in a harsh tone.

He runs back up the stairs telling Chris and Nick that they need to go.

As you walked out that door, your bestfriend nicole was there to pick you up. "hey babes, are you ok?" she asked in a gentle tone. You didnt answer and just nodded, your nose was red, your eyes were red with runny mascara running down. She could tell you were not okay, but she didnt want to bother you now.

2 weeks later..

19 missed calls from chris, 6 missed calls from nick and 2 texts from matt.

You didnt even bother checking your phone. You hadn't even ate in 5 days, hadn't took a shower in 2 weeks.

You just curled up into a ball in your bed in the hoodie that Matt gave you on your first date. Nicole had knocked on your door, asking to come in. You didn't answer so she took that as a no and left you alone.

While you were depressed Matt just partied and hid his feelings, Chris and Nick knew what was up but didn't dare to ask.

You finally had gotten the courage to check your phone and instantly went through Matt's instagram. Just to find,Her.Her.Her.Her.Her. She was in every photo she was even tagged. You clicked on her tag just to scroll to see her perfect body, thats all she posted.

After a hour you were done,you threw your phone and just cried into your pillow.

Matt had cried and sobbed, just never so anyone could see it. He always tried to text you and call you, he just never could hit the damn button.

You knew posting Gracie on your story would torment y/n and you always tried not to press that damn button. But you always did, Gracie wasn't the one you wanted. You wanted y/n and you fucked up that night. You were drunk and Gracie was there, you knew your brothers weren't gonna interfere but you damn well wish they would've.

You had issues and she had issues, you two loved each other to the point it hurt. You wished you could've prevented what happened that night, you had wished it never happened.

I always came to Nick always trying to get his opinion and screaming into his face for not stopping me from all of this. At the end of the night I would curl into his arms and bawling wishing he were y/n.

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

SO WHAT DO YALL THINK?

@christinarowie332 @strawberrysturniolo @mattitties @nicksnosering @chrisenthusiast @mattsgirlie @mattsnymphette @chrissolosa @chriscumsworld @sturncrazy @sturniolopowers @sturnioloskies @sturnisposts @mattsturnioloarchive @chrissturniolosbitch @mattsturniolosworld @chrissturniolosbf

Lemme know if you guys want a happy ending in part 2

[gogomatthew]

im on your team

Spencer Reid x SWAT!fem!reader

summary: your job usually meant NOT interacting with other deputies that was until you met him.. and as much as you hate to admit it he makes you soft

warnings: minimal cussing, law enforcement and typical cm violence, not accurate depiction of SWAT lemme know if I missed anything

You make your way into the washington PD conference room with the rest of your team being met with the deputies and the BAU. It was strange to say the least.. usually most of the information was passed on to you by your commander but this time you were all being called into a meeting? Something was off and with you being the team operator you had a right to know. Your team is all geared up, only thing left to do is put on your helmets but with big suits inside a crowded PD building breathing was hard enough. You clear your throat making your presence noticeable to the room and your commander turns around “This is SSA Hotchner and the BAU they have some information they want us to know before we actually go into the field” he stares at you for a second expectingly waiting for you to introduce yourself

“Tactical team operator Y/N” you opt for a light wave considering your glove clad hands. “what is it we’re doing here exactly?” you wait for 1 of the MANY agents in the room to answer “to put it simply.. you’re not allowed to shoot or station a sniper today” your eyes go wide “what? why not?” you didn’t actually ENJOY shooting people but considering shooting and sniping was beyond useful to catching the unsub without getting your team hurt it all seemed too risky “the particular type of unsub we’re dealing with today is beyond unstable and paranoid.. uh if he even sees a sniper he’ll kill all the hostages without hesitation.. we wont even have time to talk him down and we’re not allowed to injure him under any circumstances due to his family name” a cute brunette agent with big eyes rambles out as he paces around the room a bit. Just laying your eyes on him made you flustered. Snapping out of it you stick your tongue out from the side of your mouth thinking for a few seconds, clearly conflicted your defensive stance falters as you let out a breath and lean against the table behind you. You look up at all the agents who already have their eyes on you, you do however manage to miss the certain lingering flustered stare of a particular doctor “You all realize how dangerous this is right?” you’re met with a “ we know but its the job..” from your commander, you turn making your way out with your team following behind, only to be met with a rough hand on your shoulder “aww someone has little crush huh? you going soft for sherlock holmes over there?” your colleague says exceptionally loud before you even leave the room making you blush and Morgan giggle nudging an oblivious Spencer “fuck off” he gasps “OH MY GOD YOURE NOT EVEN GONNA DENY IT?”

The operation goes smoothly with minimal injuries to your team. After getting the hostages to safety and capturing the unsub at his hideout out, you check on your team. “everyone alright? you all did a great job” you all take your helmets off allowing themselves the pleasure of fresh air. Getting verbal and non-verbal confirmation from everyone put you at ease though it was hard to feel that in your line of career. “hey lover boy over there keeps longingly gazing at you” your colleague teases in a sing song voice only to be met with an eyeroll from you “im serious though.. he has something for you and I think you feel the same way.. so stop being a pussy and go talk to him” hes been on your mind since you laid eyes on him so its now or never! “fine but if he rejects me im gonna blame it on you” he pats your back encouragingly filling in your other colleagues as to what you’re about to do, they focus all their attention on you now, they’re watching eagerly with shit eating grins. You walk over to Spencer and as soon as he sees you he clears his throat and excuses himself from his conversation with Morgan. Morgans confusion wears off as he sees you reaching his friend and your colleagues gathered just a few feet away huddled and giggling, he runs over to JJ and Emily to inform them about whats about to go down as they watch excitedly essentially mimicking your team’s actions. “hey..” you say with a shy smile “hey.. you did great by the way” he says with a chuckle “thanks u-um im usually never this nervous but cute people have that effect on me I guess.. and I don’t think I could live with myself if I didint shoot my shot so uh” you grab his arm and write your phone number on it “heres my number you should give me a call sometime.. if you want too! though we didn’t meet under the best circumstances we can still see each other without being surrounded by you know.. criminals and deputies” his smile grows as you let out a small but sincere laugh “never thought id end this case with a pretty girl giving me her number” Spencers smile grows and so does the blush staining your cheeks “Reid we gotta go!” Hotch calls out “ill be expecting that call then?” you ask shyly “youd be crazy not too” and with that you give him a small peck on his cheek “ok.. byee!!” you run off to be met by wolf whistles and head nuggies from your team “hah turns out you do have a soft spot” they pick fun at you as you laugh and Spencer watches in adoration before being caught off guard by morgan throwing his arm around his shoulder “JJ! our baby boy has a hot date!” they both laugh and tease him as they escort him over to the SUV. After landing back in virginia he put your number into his phone.

***-***-****: Hey this is Spencer Reid so about that date?.. :)

A/N: hope this dosent suck too bad! I wrote this right after a lecture LMAO reblogs appreciated (pt 2?)

[thetimelordbatgirl]

I found this on the Descendants subreddit:

What do you think?I dunno I feel about this.

For starting orders, are these from the Descendants guide book??? Because if so, I didn't know that was potentially out yet...unless these are preview pages??? If so, kinda weird Red or Chloe didn't get their pages previewed...unless they contain spoilers and can't be shown unlike Mal's and Uma's and the page on transformations... Not gonna lie though, these preview pages are kinda making me wanna buy it...soley to see how the fuck Descendants explains ANYTHING in its universe at this fucking point.

But to answer the question: let's get transformations page out of the way first, because uh, I find it the most meh lol- its just basic knowledge about transformations and Maleficent, Mal and Uma being the only characters so far to have that ability...though confusing how its surprising to Auradon, since they a fairy tale kingdom, transformations shouldn't be a surprise really... Though they really gave a list of shit Mal did with her dragon but then said 'oh and Uma can transform too I guess' like they really did not care to go into Uma much there, though curious why they saying its only via necklace she can do that as I assumed it was Ursula's magic/DNA in general that allowed Uma to go octopus form... Plus lemme just add: 'battled Uma' last I checked all Mal did was fly around and blow FIRE at WATER and that's it, Ben handled that shit more then Mal did really.

Now onto Mal's....first: United States of Auradon...okay nice to know I guess Beyond The Isle Of The Lost definitely ain't gonna be connected to the film at this rate because there they called it United Kingdom of Auradon, but now we back to the film title here, aka United States of Auradon. But heyyyy! We can celebrate that they actually resisted the urge to blame Ben for Mal's problems for once! ...It's sad I consider that an absolute win, really, but its Descendants so... "Confident and natural leader"...wait is that meant to be serious or...because I kinda laughed there given how much of a 'confident' and 'natural leader' she was in D2 and D3... "Particularly because she felt guilty about the VK's she'd left behind" Yeah, she felt so guilty in fact that she literally showed zero fucking concern in D2 about the VKs when treating the Isle like a get away place, let alone showed zero concern when Evie did on the Isle about the VK's and in D3 basically went, "Fuck those kids, my happily ever after is more important-", when choosing WITHOUT HESTIATION to close the barrier and punish the VKs for crimes they didn't do and still intended to do this even during the lies revealed scene...so clearly guilty about leaving the VKs behind, guys. "Eventually, she helped convince the Auradon citizens to accept all VKs into Auradon Prep." And by that, I mean likely everyone else did the work but Mal's being given credit because main character and Descendants wants you to believe she actually gave a crap about the VKs after that council meeting scene lmao. "Mal is talented in a lot of areas, both in artistic endeavors and in spells and magic"...wait we NOW remember shes into art???? Because D2-3 did not fucking remember that detail well before making her into generic main character for personality and shit- but also where's being a bully and getting away with it and other crimes like love spelling someone and lying in those talents? She's very oddly good at those, even after she's meant to be good. "mess with other students" Well, that's a brutally honest description of what Mal was like with magic in Auradon Prep lmao. "the queen she was always meant to be" I...Do I need to point out saying Mal was always meant to have a form of power over people isn't great, given what she's like, or...? Like, taking someone who had a form of power on the Isle and used it to be a bully and shit and giving them power over a kingdom when they haven't even changed much isn't great, but Descendants seems to think Mal's the greatest so no wonder they acting like it was simply destiny she was always meant to be queen... Also I guess Mal still has the ember and didn't donate it to the museum so uh, there's that...also why does Hades' image look the most awkward lmao???? Did they not have a stock character image of Hades like Maleficent and Ben or...

I...really don't have much to say about Uma's page lmao- not because its meh or bad, its just not giving me much to complain about as it didn't at least villainize her like Descendants normally loves too...though interesting choice to say Uma only wanted to go to Auradon because she was envious of Mal and not because she wanted to free the villain kids...but I guess we can't let someone else care about the villain kids when we pretending like Mal gave a shit about them suddenly! But uh, guess this is confirmation that Fairy Godmother fully retired??? She and Ben's parents really do just like to ditch their jobs at the nearest chance and hand it off to the nearest young person- though I still really don't get why Uma would want to be a head mistress of a school, like I know she'd want to help villain kids and such, but like, she can do that outside of being head mistress technically, it just feels random for her character. Also niece of Uliana...are they actually gonna address this fully in the film or...we know Uma captured by Queen of Hearts so like....sigh, Uma suffering more in plot bullshit, first it was Mal's plot bullshit, now its Queen of Hearts bullshit, she cannot catch a fucking break. And one last question: when did the Isle of the Lost become a KINGDOM??? It was called a prison last I checked, why does it count as a home kingdom now??? If I was a villain kid and asked my home kingdom, I wouldn't say the Isle of the Lost, because that's a prison I was stuck on for existing basically.

[sea-of-dust]

Could we please get general relationship headcanons for Ann, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, and Sumire (if you'll write for her) from Persona 5?

Power of LOVE!!!

Phantom thief girls x GN! Reader

relationship headcannons

notes: ima have to start naming p5 annons 💀. Also, THEY'RE MULITPLE?! Thank you for reminding me to add sumire and akechi to the clarification post btw

This girl WILL know your clothing size but by a simple glance and go "you want me to dress you?" You don't have to answer that question you WILL be bought clothes along with other things you like

She likes leaning into you, smirking a bit and whispering in your ear "we should kiss" "!" your face is as you turn around and look at her of course you give in using a book to cover the views of other students,Ryuji, or you'll just look at her shocked. Either way she still ends up satisfied one way or another

She likes when you come to shoots with her. Happy when she's posing and she just sees you throw a little thumbs up, it's always lifts her spirits.

She will not let you leave without her. You could be getting ready to go and she'd just "where are you going?" "Home, my mom called I told you" "take me with you!" "You're already home though" "Home with with you wait here lemme get dressed!" You had to explain to your mom the sudden guest

She's bragging about you. Alot. If she feels like she can't go a day without telling Ryuji "they made me breakfast I love them so much" she thinks of you so much it almost scares her when you tap her shoulder. "Ann?" "Yes my darling?" "." Ryuji looks at her "Why yes my dear" "oh my god" he burries his face into his arms leaning into the desk as you two continue to call eatchother affectionate names.

She probably has your dox from the school ids has been down bad since. It's way more obvious when you two start dating. "You're so soft just like what the Id shows" "excuse me?" "Oh- nothing"

study dates early on are her go tos, as soon as you two get more used to each other she's often on doing simple domestic things with you.

Will sneak around you when you're in shibuya you're not escaping. So when you turn around and see her thinking it's a coincidence it's suddenly a date. She would come home nearly collapsing but it's worth it

Tries not to ask much of you except when it comes to school one homework she KNOWS you didn't do it's over. "Did you do your science packet" "yea why?" "Good what's the answer to 2" "two uhhhh...d?" "...I'm comming over" "ITS JUST THE FIRST PAGE" you bond with Ryuji over this you two come to school after those nights with background music and look like you two about to crawl to class.

She WiLL cling onto you!! If you dare to go anywhere scary you will have to run with her added weight. She tries to run with you and then one ominous can shes weak in the knees, so you try to avoid scary things to the best of your ability

Its obvious she's gonna be dragging you to akihabara. New game came out? "HEY Y/N" "I'm already dressed" "YAY! RUNNING OVER"

She's 100% calling you a cringy name as SOON as you pick up. "Hey my pookie wookie smuckum baby shawty thingy nugget person human thing" "...." "DONT HANG UP"

She wants hugs forever stay with her!! You should sleep over!! You should stay on a call for her for an entire day. Yea she loves these little brain thoughts while you're terrified of them.

Forces you to match pfps on ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. No matching pfps? You Hate her simple. "I wanna use this theme I found" "do it with me!! 👹👹👹👹" "chill with the emojis!"

Joker and Sojiro WILL run a check on you as soon as Futaba isn't there. You date her you must answer these dubious 5!! As much as the intense looks were exchanged turned to "wadya think" looks back and fourth little to say that approved

She's sending you everywhere with her! You're having dates every week and will almost straight up refuse to let her pay

Very affectionate and often likes showing pda, if you aren't much of a fan it's alright she'll be minimal with it or just stop all together. She does like laying her head on your shoulder while your walking together

Interested in watching shows you like and talking about them she's gonna come up to you and be like "you haven't watched this scene yet?" She doesn't spoil it but it's incredibly tempting to just to get your reaction.

She dosent insist but she loves hand holding in public. She tries not to squeeze too hard but your hands are so warm! When you initiate the hand holding it just makes it so much better.

Refuses to let you sleep in another room. If you so dare to say "you have the bed ill sleep on the couch" expect the very momment you drift to sleep to be lifted off the couch and with her to the bed. If you ever so dare to wake up and try to leave the girls gripping you tight "where are you going?" Her voice is so soft almost distracts from the fact you might need a doctor after this squeeze. "Stay here I don't wanna be left alone with all the plushies" she rubs her face into your back, seeing no other option you slept there.

She daydreams of you SOOOO much. It's crazy she thinks of you so much she finds It hard to focus. She'd think it's embrassing she thinks of you so much but then she'd imagine you brushing her hair to the side and going "you look wonderful today Sumire" girls brain just BOOM

If you'd ever dare to say you haven't eaten, she'll open her bento and offer a bit of it to you. "I don't see why you can't have some?" "Sumire...I don't like sausages" "don't worry there's rice" "you really don't have to"

She wants to try and play a sport with you. Don't wanna run? Table top tennis! Or maybe darts! She will need encouragement, but is super good

She likes asking out on just outings in shibuya to just "I'm watching my senpai's right now wanna see if they'll put their rivalry aside and be normal?" You go with her no matter the reason the only time this back fired was when akechi recognized you and tried to get you to settle if vegans eat animal crackers

She won't tell you when she has an issue that much. Unfortunately for her, you notice quickly hugging her or patting her head. She won't tell you, but she loves when you do this. It's comforting knowing she doesn't have to say a word and you'd be there

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

I need payback for this I need Cleo running her finger down the stich scar on Frankie’s check while calling them cool or a sweetie or saying ‘hey one of your stiches is loose lemme get my beetle babies to fetch some thread so I can fix that’ and she’s never stitched anything before but Frankie is having the time of their life holding still while she very carefully figures it out like that one meme about the girls with the make up only its a mummy putting fresh stiches in their franken monster themfriend wait what was I saying

oh yeah or maybe Cleo could smooch them on that cheek or clean a smudge of oil off while they're making another robot and they start sparking and blushing like a dying toaster or idk anything please just let them be cute together again

[chronic-ghost]

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

rating: M (just for language)

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 5619

summary: you're a human lie detector-- so you tell the handsome man at the Jim Bo’s Burger Barn at 3AM. Too bad you're too drunk to catch up to his lies.

warnings: language, references to drugs/cartels, drinking, smoking, this one is pretty tame, no use of y/n

a/n: this is my Poker Face adjacent fic and inspired by the scene where Javi so innocently flirts with that american wife in the lounge. might become a series but not quite sure yet. lemme know which direction I should take this, if I should take it anywhere at all!

🤍Series Masterlist | Next

🤍AO3 Link

You attract trouble.

You attract trouble like you put on your nicest dress, did your hair, fixed up your tits, and doused yourself in trouble-pheromones. Like you found trouble curled up on the side of the road, sad and alone like a lost dog, and you gave it a cookie and now it swings around your ankles, always moments away from knocking you on your ass. Except it’s not a dog, it’s a chimpanzee that’s finally snapped and it’s pissed–  it’s beating on the bars of its cage, it’s yowling, howling, it’s coming after you to eat off your goddamn face and–

Okay, back up a bit. 

You have a thing that gets you into trouble. No, not like a self-destructive habit or a weird twitch. It’s not drugs or alcohol or even a dumbass ex. It’s this thing you’ve always been able to do, always known, and because of your big mouth, it’s always gotten you into hot water with the wrong people.

You know when someone is lying. Don’t ask how. It’s a thing. But you know, without a shadow of a doubt, if what’s coming out of someone’s mouth is the God’s honest truth or total and utter bullshit.

You know when someone is lying and generally, folks don’t really appreciate it when you a) catch them on a lie and b) call them out on it. You and your big mouth.

Okay, that’s two things that get you into trouble, but it’s primarily the lying thing and the mouth thing is more or less a fun bonus. Used for good or evil, or whatever. 

The point – the point is – you know when someone is lying. Every single time. So, sure, the audience may say, it’s a weird quirk, kinda bizarre, may or may not be difficult to prove, but trouble? Real actual trouble? How could you possibly get into chimpanzee-face-eating trouble with just this little thing?

Well, rather easy actually. If you don’t have any particular skills, that is. If you barely finished high school, and street smarts was the only kind of smarts they were selling the day your mom smacked you on the ass and told you to find your way in the world. It was hard keeping a job too. Minimum wage living is terrible, especially when the customers lie to you, or to each other, or to their children. Even worse when management lies about why there’s no cash payout this month or why they’re late with this month’s checks. Getting by is fucking hard as shit, but when you know there’s something wrong being done and you’ve got this big fucking mouth, well, you’ve never been one to not court trouble. 

Maybe trouble is easier to find because you like to wave and flirt with it when you drive by. Give a little wink.

You work here, you work there. Nothing serious. Always temporary. And then, one day, during your shift as a maid at the Economy 99 on route 10, the elderly night guard asks if you’ve ever played poker. 

Nah, you say. Go Fish, that’s really your game. 

So he offers to teach you, along with a few of the other maids and staff waiting around for someone to blow chunks in the swimming pool because you always managed to find the really classy places. 

Okay, so you barely finished high school, you don’t have real marketable skills, you’ve got a big mouth and you’re not afraid to use it and –

– and –

You’re really fucking good at poker. 

And who here would like to venture a guess as to why?

You always know when someone is lying and what is poker if not Advance Bullshit for Adults? Fuckin’ Astronomical Physics for Liars and Dumbasses. Hell, you gotta fuckin’ PhD in Bovine Excrement and it’s time you graduated to the big leagues. Sayonara community college, hello Stanford for Assholes.

Okay, maybe that’s just regular Stanford. 

You learn to hustle too. Lose a few rounds so they don’t catch onto you and can’t accuse you of anything as you wipe their clocks clean. You change your name too, in different towns, in different back alley poker halls, because unfortunately the poker and casino community in this place is too small.

This place being all of the United States. 

You can’t exactly go online and work your literal magic– you gotta at least see or hear the person to know if they’re lying. Bluffing over pixels just isn’t the same. Isn’t sexy enough. 

So, with your big mouth and exceptional poker skills, you go hunting off the coast. It was an invite only poker tournament in Florida. You hadn’t managed to burn your ‘Marlene Green’ identify just yet and she was fucking crushing it up and down the east coast. You barely blinked at the ten grand buy-in– baby money, suckers ducks, little Tikes casino royale.

This was also the last one, you told yourself. One for all the marbles. 

Because the thing about disreputable poker halls, they tend to be filled with unpleasant, disreputable, very angry characters that, like a chimpanzee, will rip your face off and eat it if they think they’ve been cheated. 

Exit strategy. Mama always said you gotta have an exit strategy. Well, Mama said a lot of things and the actual literal exit strategy was Monterey Marina with a gorgeous trawler for sale. Older than shit, but damn that baby could purr. You were gonna take the money, offer up stone-cold cash (no questions asked), and sail off into the sunset. Or, well, sunrise because you were definitely getting the fuck out of Florida. 

But here it comes, the real kick in the goddamn teeth, the real screw in the rack. This is where your mouth and your talent– gift, power, is this a fucking superhero movie?– whatever– tended to get all mishmashed with one other thing that always– and you mean always– got you in the hot seat. Got you in Trouble, with a capital T, that rhymes with P and stands for pool hall – breathing down your neck. 

You alway had shitdumb, bad, fucking luck. 

So it’s not some lowtime, grumpy townies you piss off when you win the pot, it turns out its members of a goddamn drug cartel! And they are PISSED.

P-I-S-S-E-D

You don’t wanna ask the barrel of their guns if they’re going to kill you because you don’t actually want to be sure of their answer, so you’ve got your hands up, thinking this is definitely it– I’ve played my last hand, I’ve sunk my last boat, I’ve cursed my last fuck– when police sirens go off. It’s not a relief, but a distraction.

You’ve got a big mouth, wacky abilities, and reflexes like someone who’s been running their whole life. You smash a bottle against the back of the head of the blonde one closest to you, flip the table– chips and bullets go flying– and with the case holding the winnings still in your hands, you sprint out the back door. 

To your lovely Chevy Camaro waiting for you. 

And you drive.

“And I drive and I drive and I drive, all the way down to this lovely little diner in . . .” 

You swivel on the red seat, nearly knocking over the five little plastic bottles of Crown Royal on the counter that is making your head thick and puffy. You squint at the sign that boasts the best burgers in – “Texas, yes, thank you, Texas! Lone Star State. The most hated state, of all fifty of them, for Wile E Coyote. His nemesis. His haunting. His apocalypse now . . .” 

The man seated next to you, the same man who’s been there for an hour, quietly listening to you drunkenly ramble at the counter of Jim Bo’s Burger Barn, smirks. His mustache twitches.

“Why is it the Wile E Coyote’s least favorite state?”

Your mouth drops at him. You slouch as though indignant about his very question. “Roadrunner, duh, state bird of the Lone Star State. That and blue bonnets. I mean, the flower. Blue bonnets are the state bird and the road runner is the state flower of the Looney Star State . . . wait . . .”

He laughs, softly, his elbows under him as he leans forward on the counter, his brown jacket looking like it smells amazing. Drunker than you meant to be, you eye him from his classic cowboy boots, up his hips, and to the edges of that lovely brown jacket as it hangs around his waist. He has the prettiest eyes. 

“You were saying something about driving here?” He asks, very much aware of your shameless staring. “Do you still have that money?”

“Sure, sure,” you mutter and turn back to your chocolate milkshake that’s pretty much just chocolate soup at this point. You snatch up a remaining fry from your long gone burger and swirl it in the soup. “Got the keys and the money locked up tight. I worry more about someone fucking with my baby more than the money, you know. Lots of sentimental value in that car. ‘Is where I lost my virginity.”

At that, the man sputters on his coffee, his third of the night. Black, almost as dark as his hair. 

You sigh, frowning into your lumpy, ice-creamy soup. “So hard to get laid when you’re running for your life.” 

You swivel back to him as he’s patting his jacket dry of coffee. “Wait. You.”

“Me what?” You think his cheeks warm pink for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing out here at 3AM, listening to me babble endlessly? You don’t look shifty, but maybe you are.” 

He smirks again and tosses his napkins into the now empty coffee mug. 

“I’m Javi,” he says in a deep, soothing voice as he extends his hand across to you. You take it, with the proper amount of trepidation. “And I’m on my way to see my niece in Flagstaff.” 

You click your tongue and withdraw your hand, disappointed. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I mean, your name is definitely Javi.” You pick up your own coffee mug and see that it’s unfortunately empty. You pick out some fleck that’s fallen into it. “Well, almost – is that short for something? – but you are definitely not on your way to see your niece in Flagstaff. Does she not live in Flagstaff or . . . do you not even have a niece?” You gasp, mouth agape. He has the decency to look uneasy. His eyes narrow at you. You scoff. “That is fucked up, hombre. Starting off a conversation with a lie is not a good way to make a friend.” 

“Why do you think I’m lying?” 

You roll your eyes, the coffee cup dangling loosely in your fingers. “We’ve been over this, my dude. See the court documents. Jeez, how hard is it to order a refill at three in the morning? Paragraph B, Subsection I’m really fucking good at poker. I don’t think, I know. I have this thing, always had, and when people lie to me, I . . . wriggle. Squirm. Not exactly ‘spoiled lunch meat’ but not ‘just clocked a hottie from across the bar and I like their vibes’ either.” 

He watches as the waitress, glaring, comes over and refills your mug. You immediately dive into five packets of sugar, shredding them like a racoon with a bag of popcorn. 

“But I don’t take it too personally,” you continue, flicking the sugar packet to make sure every single crystal falls into the cup. “People lie all the time. About stupid shit too. I don’t think they even mean to do it. It just happens.”

“Does it bother you? That people lie?” 

“Eh. Once upon a time. But fuck, if you could hear the bullshit firehose that comes outta people’s mouths on the daily, you’d stop shaking it off too, if you know what I mean.” Satisfied that you’d be able to see through both time and space with your sugar high, you take a sip. Needs milk. You reach across his plate, wobbling on the edge of the seat, his chest inches from your forearm, and snag the little tin milk pitcher. Your cup becomes more milk than coffee. “People lie for the best of reasons, mostly. Or at least, best for them. Either to save hurting someone else's feelings or their own. We humans don’t like pain, generally, as a rule. But rules are meant to be broken, I suppose.”

Javi, or as close to his real name as you’re going to get, is quiet. That tends to be more of his natural state, given that he had barely said two words while you recounted the past few weeks to him whether he wanted it or not. You sip your coffee again, delighted to have found the right balance of sugar, milk, and burnt coffee, when he taps the rim of his mug with his nail. 

 “I do have a niece, but she lives in Austin. Haven’t seen her in a while, actually, but I want to.” 

“Oh, yeah?” That was all true. You bend forward, eyes trying to watch him as you sip the delicate, hovering brown line that threatens to spill over the edge of the cup. “What’s stopping you from seeing her?” 

“Work.” 

Well, that was fucking ominous. 

“Wait. Fuck. What do you do for a living?” 

Javi slides off the seat and turns those slim hips towards you and, like a fucking idiot, you just now register the bulk at his waist. 

You whimper. Of course the one nice person who wanted to spare you a second glance was from the cartel. They found you. Somehow they tracked you down to the middle of nowhere, which was exactly what you wanted when you still had your life ahead of you. But now it seemed like a terrible fucking idea because there was no one around to at least make sure Baby Girl Camaro went to a good home. 

“Ah, fuck. Fuck! That’s a gun. Fuck, you’re gonna kill me right here in this goddamn diner,” you whine and put your head on the counter, hands covering the back as if you were preparing for a tornado. 

He sighs. “I’m not going to kill you.” 

Truth. 

“Then what do you want with me?” You glare at him, bleary-eyed. “Because the whole cover as a kindly stranger with baby cow eyes is officially fucking blown, my guy.” 

“Let’s go outside and – wait, what? Baby cow eyes? What the hell does that mean?” 

“What? You’ve never watched Dr. Pole? TV veterinarian?” You unwind from your prone position and frown at him. “He takes care of those little baby cows, lookin’ up at their mama with those big, sweet, gentle, loving brown eyes. Cutest thing in the world. Almost made me wanna give up beef for a whole two minutes. But seriously, dude, there’s this hamburger joint in Miami that makes you just wanna lick the juices right off your fingers– hey!” 

He grabs you by the upper arms and, as casually as a kidnapping can go, hauls you out of the diner. The bell above the door rings joyfully as he pulls you through. 

The reality of your situation hits you like a sixteen-wheeler truck and tears spring up in your eyes as panic bites into your spine. His grip is like iron around your bicep. 

“Dude, I’m so sorry I rambled on like that but I swear I didn’t know who you were. Please, please don’t kill me – o-o-or hurt me. Please don’t take me back to the cartel. You can have the money, I swear, j-j-just take it–,”

His eyes widen and immediately lets you go. The neon sign and lights of the diner behind him blur his face in shadow. You wipe at your eyes. 

“Lady, look, if you’re gonna survive on the run from the Cali Cartel, you can’t be telling your whole life story to anyone who asks.” He’s got his hands on his hips as if disappointed with you. You pout with your bottom lip out.

“Wasn’t telling just anyone. Was telling you.” You cross your arms and sniff, suddenly rather embarrassed to be crying in front of a man so genuinely hot it makes you go a little cross-eyed. Well, it was either him or the whiskey. TBD. “Not that I’m encouraging you or anything, but if you don’t kill me, aren’t your cartel bosses gonna be pissed?” 

“I don’t work for the cartel. I work for the DEA.” 

If crying was embarrassing, you are going to be fucking traumatized if you puked all over his cowboy boots.

“Aw shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.” You press your knuckles into your eyes, groaning. You wander backwards. Your head starts to spin and so do you. “The fucking government is after me? Holy shit, this is not good.” 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

You frown and spin back around. He looks exasperated. 

“Well, how many words does it take to read me my Miranda rights?” You tick off the words on your fingers as you speak them aloud. “You. Have. The. Right. To. Remain. Silent. Anything – is that one word or two? – You. Say–,”

“Jesus Christ–,” He claps his wide hand over yours, squishing your tally between his palms. “Are you always like this or just because you’re drunk?” 

“I’m a delight, pal, okay?” You scowl up at him. “I am a barrel full of monkeys at all times. I am a waterslide with chocolate and whipped cream, okay? I am a–,”

His hands leap to your shoulders. His touch is gentle like he knows he shouldn’t scare you but he’s considering throwing you into oncoming traffic. 

“Just . . . show me the case of money you stole,” he begs with his baby cow eyes, “alright? Let’s start there.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “If I do, what’s to keep you from knocking me out and throwing me in the trunk?” 

“I’m not going to do that.”

No tingle. You purse your lips and wiggle out from under his palms. “Say it. Say, I’m not going to knock you out and throw you in the trunk and steal all of your money.” 

“It’s not exactly your money, is it?”

“Say it!”

“Fine!” He says, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m not going to knock you out and throw you in the trunk and steal all of your money.” 

Still nothing. No tingle. Well, no tingle about him lying anyway. 

“You passed the test. Now come here.” 

Hesitantly, he nudges towards you, those thick eyebrows dipping down as if expecting you to pull a bazooka out of your bra.

“C’mere, c’mere. Good.” You clap a hand on his shoulder and lean into him. You shift your weight onto one leg and wiggle off your other boot. You get a whiff of his cologne – dark, woodsy, a little too much, as if to cover for a lack of deodorant. “Now, as you so annoyingly identified earlier, I have had a little, insy-tintsy bit to drink, and if I tried to take off my shoe by myself, I would, as the kids say, eat shit. And once you’ve fallen on your ass in front of one cop, you’ve fallen on your ass in front of them all.”

His warm hands find your waist, steadying you, just as you pop your heel out of your boot. “I’m not a cop,” he grumbles.

“And I’m not a walking lie detector.” You shake your boot and your car keys tinkle as they hit the dirt. “Ah, ha! Got ‘em.”

You shake them in front of his baby cow eyes, grinning, before spinning back to your car and popping the trunk, hopping as you went to slide your boot back on. 

“Do you work out?” You ask as he rounds the edge. Half of you is buried in the trunk, feet in the air. 

“Uh, yeah, when I can. Why?”

“What do you bench?”

“256. Why?” 

“Oh, then this should be easy for you.”

You groan, struggling with something and he dives to help you – and his knees buckle. 

“Why the hell do you have a tire for a sixteen wheeler in your trunk?”

“Same reason you’re sweating, toots. Heavy as fuck and hard to move. But now that we have . . .”

You pull out a slim silver case. You pop the handles and sigh.

You haven’t moved a single bill since that night. You haven’t even breathed on it, as if doing so would set off a series of alarms, bells, and whistles.

“So small for so much trouble,” you whisper as he crowds in next to you. “Fifty thousand dollars. Make or break a life. Well, at least, a life like mine.” 

Javi makes a face. “Should be one hundred, but those fuckers switched it out.” 

“Wait, how do you know that?” 

He sighs and slams the lid of the trunk shut. You snatch up the case before he does and hold it tight to your chest. Javi stands there for a moment, with his hand on Baby’s trunk, head down, thinking.

“Look, I want to help you . . . and I can. But you’ve gotta start being honest with me. How did you really get into that poker game?”

“What do you mean?”

He crosses his arms, frowning. “That little party trick you do. The human lie detector thing. What is it? How did you know Veracruz had that shit hand?”

“Uh, because I asked him and he said he didn’t have a shit hand, and I knew he was lying.” 

“Yeah, that. How did you know he was lying?”

“I just did.”

“Bullshit.” 

“That’s my line!” You glare up at him, very much aware of his height and very much aware how hot he is. “I’m not lying to you. I just know when people are lying. If you believe it, I’ll know.” 

Javi rolls his eyes. “That’s not a real thing people can do. Have you done forensic work before? Studied body language somewhere?” 

You scoff and step back, showing off your black fringe vest, dirty jeans, and combat boots. “Do I look like I’ve studied anything anywhere ever? Where would I even have gotten the money to go study somewhere? Oh right, the forensic fairy, just beating the shit outta people with a bag of cash.” 

He puts his hands on his hips and you match him because you can do the scary cop thing too. It’s not that hard. 

“I broke my arm when I was seven on a bike ride.” 

“True.” 

“I had a dog named Benji.” 

“Dog’s right, but not named Benji.” You grin, rubbing your hands together, then putting them on your thighs. “C’mon, gimme something you’ve never told anyone. This is exciting. Your mustache does this little twitch thing when I’m right.” 

“When I was twelve, I cheated off my friend’s math test.” 

You frown, dropping your shoulders. “That’s your big secret? Whoof, buddy, and here I thought the big scary man gunning for me was mean and lean, when he’s actually just an All-American—,”

“I need your help to arrest the men who are trying to kill you.” 

Your mouth snaps shut so fast your teeth click.

“That’s what all of this is about.” He crosses his arms and leans against Baby. “Aren’t you curious how I found you so fast? Faster than the cartel who's been on your ass for two weeks now?” 

“I’d like to think it was just kismet that we found each other,” you grumble. “Serendipity. Movie magic. Lady Luck doing me a fuckin’ solid for once.”

“That case has a tracker in it. We had a plant in that game who was supposed to win, but not before he could distribute the cash out in the pot. We’d be able to follow them back to their stashes and track their movements.” He bit his lip, disapprovingly. “And then you showed up. Cleaned their fucking clocks like it was nothing. Had their goddamn numbers from minute one and none of us could figure it out. Steve was probably relieved when you knocked him out with that bottle.”

“Oh, shit, the blonde was your partner?” You grimace. “My bad, dude, my bad. Is he, uh, okay?”

Javi nods, eyes distant, as if subtly trying to work something out in his brain. Like testing to see if you could read minds or something. “He’ll be fine. His wife Connie is thrilled to have him home for a few weeks.” 

“Ah. And that means you pulled the shit straw to go after the girl who ran off with all your government money . . .” It was finally all coming together. “Shit, should I add your wife to the list of people I’ve pissed off? I can’t imagine she’s thrilled about any of this.”

His jaw works, as if he was chewing on something, eyes dark, before he pulls a packet of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. He holds one out to you.

You stay where you are, hesitant. 

“C’mon, don’t tell me you’re not a smoker.” He spins an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I don’t bite.”

You scowl and trudge forward. You snatch the cigarette from his thick fingers and wait your turn for the lighter.

“What gave it away? I haven’t had a smoke in hours.” 

The shadow of the flame flickered in his palm as he held out the lighter close to your lips, his hand blocking the wind. His brown eyes looked black in the absence of light. 

“Chain-smoking and playing poker with idiots is a combo deal. Two vices for the price of one.”

“Ha. Ha.”

You match his lean against Baby’s trunk, the pair of you watching the occasional car or truck go by on the interstate in the distance. The paper crinkles when you suck in the smoke. God, there really is nothing like the first bite of a cigarette. 

“So, what’s the play here?” You ask, after a moment. “You have the money. Why do you need me?” 

“You won’t have to worry about kindly strangers with baby cow eyes for starters.” You scowl at him. Maybe it’s the orange light of the flame, but you swear you see a twinkle in his eyes. “But you tell me. You seem smart. What would the government want with you?”

He likes a chase, you realize. He likes to play, to tease. He likes to be in control. Something inside you knots up, threatening goosebumps on your skin, but you shake it back. Down, girl. 

You take a sip from your cigarette, thinking. 

There is nothing else around except the highway and this diner. Seemed like such a good idea at the time. Who’d ever find your ass all the way out here? You lick the bottom of your lip before pulling it between your teeth.

“I’m your only witness to the mountains of coke being produced out in the open when they brought us in. Everyone else at that table was cartel or DEA. You want me to testify. 

He nods slowly. If he was impressed, he didn’t show it.

“We didn’t know who the hell you were when you showed up and planned to arrest you before everything went tits up.” He taps the ash onto the gray dirt and you watch his fingers. “If you do this, you’re out from under the cartel. We can give you a new identity, and you can start grifting again across America. All of this’ll be a bad dream.”

He flicks the butt of his cigarette into the dark, just at the edge of the light from the neon sign. You follow suit a second later. The keys to Baby are still in your pocket. 

“And if I don’t? If I don’t do this, then what?” 

His answer is a single arched eyebrow.

You dart to the left, trying to get around him, but he’s there first, arms outstretched like he’s guarding a goal. He frowns at you. Seriously? 

You lunge again, this time to the right, and he’s again in front. 

Your brow sweating, you hook your foot onto Baby’s trunk, desperately trying to scramble over the top. You get about halfway up before those annoyingly large hands snatch you around the waist and haul you off the car.

“Would you stop it?” He plops you down between his solid chest and the car door. This close to him, air temporarily leaves your lungs. “I’m being honest when I say I’m here to help you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Am I lying?” Again, that beautiful eyebrow of disapproval. 

“No, but I’ve officially decided you’re shifty.” 

He shakes his head and steps back, allowing blood flow to return to your brain. 

“Is this what you want for your life? Driving from small town to small town, picking up bullshit jobs, sleeping in shit beds, when there’s so much more you could do? You’re smart, resourceful, funny, weirdly agile . . . but you wanna spend your life hiding from the world.” 

There’s something hot and sharp in your throat.

“It’s what I’m good at,” you croak. 

His expression softens. The gravel crackles beneath his boots as he comes closer. Javi, the DEA officer, has temporarily left the building. In his place, this Javi is smoothed out, dulled, not all jagged edges and razor burns. Maybe tastes sweeter than day-old coffee and stale cigarettes. You want to tell him there’s nothing wrong with either– you happily take both– but seeing him unguarded, even for a moment, threatens to topple you over. There’s a light in his eyes when he takes in your face. Your eyes. Your nose. Your mouth. 

He looks . . . hopeful. 

One hesitant finger brushes away a stray strand of hair from your forehead.

Do not tremble. Do not tremble. Do not do it, I swear, ladies, keep it together!

“I bet you are,” he says softly. Jesus Christ, his hands are so big up close. “I bet you are good at a lot of things. You seem like the type who could genuinely surprise me. And I think you might surprise yourself one day.” 

You grimace, deeply, deeply regretful. 

“Yeah,” you mutter glumly. “I do surprise people a lot, actually. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be listening.”

“Wha–,”

From your other pocket in your vest, you yank out a one-time-use stun gun and stab his thigh through his jeans. Fifty-thousand volts lights up his entire body, arched, and tensed, before the grown man collapses at your feet. 

Unconscious, Javi hits the ground so hard you squeal, landing on his face and no doubt earning a nasty bruise. 

“Exit strategy, dude! Always gotta have an exit strategy. But I’m so, so sorry!” Grabbing his deadweight shoulder, you roll him onto his back and try to get him in a comfortable position. There’s dust in his mustache. .You fold his hands onto his chest like he was casually napping. 

Then because you were in fact the nicest or stupidest person on the planet, you dig your arms under his and pull him out of the parking lot. It would be a true sin if he got run over and anything happened to that beautiful face. Huffing, you drop him off by the bike rack. “I’m sorry. You are so gorgeous but I gotta get outta here and I can’t have you following me. This hurts me way more than it hurts you.”

You bend down and rifle through his jacket. You find what you’re looking for and take his phone out of his pocket. Old, probably a burner. With a shake, you crack off the battery and throw it on the ground. The crunch is loud beneath your heel. That should give you some more time. Can’t haul you back to HeadQuarters if he can’t call them.

This close to him, you can see the bags beneath his eyes. You remember he didn’t eat the entire time he sat with you in the diner. He didn’t respond to your question about a wife. Guilt clangs into your ribs. Slowly, you loosely brush your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, curls around his neck and ears. He looks like he needs sleep. 

You had been blasting across state lines, hardly eating, barely sleeping, restless and fearful. Maybe he had been too.  

“God, I am such a fucking idiot.” You grimace as you see a ripe purple bump growing on his cheek. “I am so sorry and I am so going to hell for this.”

Over the road to the highway, the dawn rises, purple and pink and heavy.

Baby purrs, when you start the engine, welcoming and warm. Where to today, Mama?

Jim Croce’s twang eases out of the radio as you adjust your mirror and see his long legs still out by the concrete. Somebody would find him soon enough.

Uptown got its hustlers

The bowery got it's bums

42nd street got big Jim Walker

He's a pool shootin' son of a gun

Yeah, he big and dumb as a man can come

But he stronger than a country hoss

You shake your head, guilt gnawing at your gut. Baby roars as you pull out onto the road and up onto the highway. Into the burning dawn.

What was it that he said? 

And when the bad folks all get together at night

You know they all call big Jim boss, just because

He called you funny. Resourceful. Full of potential. And smart. He thought you were smart.

Liar, liar. 

And they say

You don't tug on superman's cape

You don't spit into the wind

You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger

And you don't mess around with Jim

[dishushu]

i remember it, all too well.

42!miles g morales x reader

summary: you've been dating someone for a year and slowly you realize they've become distant. barely texting you, not showing any admiration, always out clubbing. until you went to their place and see something unspeakably wrong, you snap and they try to come back to you. months later, still broken. you met miles and you two become very close. one day you see them again and you can remember the memories all too well.

warnings: super angst (fluff in the end of COURSE) cursing, bad spanish (i’m so sorry y’all😭) creepy ex bro, cheating.

a/n: WHOOP i started listening to atwtmv for like a 100 times and it gave me the idea to write this (all hail taylor swift!!) this is gonna be so angsty i swear like im so sorry yall 😭 but lemme tell y’all i swear 42 miles has rizz i’m not lying

words: 2.2k

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

your life was pretty fine the past few months since you’ve met your partner.

they were, everything you wanted. they loved you to the moon and back and you said the same thing too.

but a year passed and things started to change, drastically.

they stopped paying attention to you, stopped hanging out with you, was always on their phone and most of all, always went clubbing.

you’d be at your place and it was around 12:45 in the morning, he was supposed to come by.

the first thing that came up to your mind was text him, they were probably busy anyway?

…..

love&lt;3

12:46 am

y/n: babe, wru? you were supposed to come to my place an hour ago.

seen 12:48 am.

y/n : hello?

seen 12:50 am.

……

you sighed, tossing your phone to the side of the bed as u curled up in ball, thinking why they left you on seen.

you decided to go check up on them yourself, so you put your shoes on and walked over to his apartment.

you knocked on their door, seemingly waiting for an answer, there was none.

so you opened the door which was seemingly unlocked, and scanned around the room, calling out their name.

when you heard loud music from his room.

you knocked but there was no answer as you thought the music was drowning your knock so you opened it.

and oh boy were you in for a surprise.

you dropped your purse on the floor as you stood there as if you saw a ghost, but instead you saw them making out with someone else.

“so that’s how shits going huh.” you said bluntly with tears in your eyes as your words jolted both of them up and your partner turned to look at you.

“it’s not what it seems like bab-“ they were protesting, pushing the other person away and walking to you but you cut them off and pushed them away.

“there’s nothing to fucking explain!” you screamed. “its all right infront of me, dont even bother.” you said as the tears flowed out of your eyes, looking away.

“please love im sorry i- just- give me another chance” they tried to grab your hands and you pulled away quickly.

“so you just can call me up again just to break me like a fucking promise huh? i expected better from you.” my voice cracked at every word as i walked away and slammed the door shut.

i was home, on the floor. in a ball of sadness. tears, snot, everything flowing out. while they kept texting me.

…..

unknown number.

1:15 am

un: babe please

un: please im sorry

un: i won’t do it again

un: forgive me

seen 1:20 am.

…..

you knew damn well he was lying so you blocked the number, shutting off your phone and sliding it across the room.

that day, your whole heart broke, you never felt anything anymore, love was completely just a game to you

but do you think everything will change soon?

it was your usual day. wake up, get ready for work, walk, get to work and actually work.

you worked at the cashier in some convenience store.

you’d felt numb and dull the past few weeks and didn’t really have the motivation to do anything, but you had to so you did. but you just remember everything all too well.

you were doing your job as normal and nothing around changed honestly, it was just your average normal day until someone came in that caught your eye.

it was a boy about your age, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweater, the way his jawline stands out and his braids touching his shoulders.

you thought he was cute but you shook off your feelings and went on with your day.

you noticed he was catching a few glances from you, you thought of it as nothing when he paid normally and went out the store.

but he kept coming back to the store every single day for the whole week and you two start to talk a bit more, but not your actual huge conversations.

but this one time. he was in the store picking up a few stuff and bringing it to the counter.

you scanned the items as you put it in a paper bag,

“15.44.” you told him the price.

“keep the change.” he said giving you a 20 and his spanish accent had you rolling on the floor (metaphorically).

you mumbled a thank you as he walked out, you were going to put the 20 in the cash box but suddenly, you saw a note attached to it.

* xxx-xxx-xxxx, my number. text me soon hermosa. - miles:) *

you were shocked to the brim as u held the paper in hand profusely blushing as you started to smile a bit.

did a guy just really give his number out to you?

you kept the note in your pocket, still blushing and went on with your day. until you came back home

you held the note in your hand again, still contemplating if you should put the number in your phone.

you did it anyway.

as you shakily typed the number in your phone, you added his name in the contact number and pressed the message button.

…..

miles(?)

10:05 pm.

y/n: hello?

*minutes pass by and you were doubting a message back from him. but your phone dinged.*

miles(?): hey

*you were shaking in your bed as you saw his reply.*

y/n: you’re miles right?, the guy from the store?

miles(?): the one and only. miles(?): and you’re…?

y/n: sorry.. i’m y/n

miles(?): nice name ;)

*at that point you were shocked by the little winky face he put*

y/n: the same goes to you :)) y/n: so.. weird question but why’d you give me your number?

miles(?): just thought you were cute.

*his reply literally had you in shambles and you didn’t know what to reply with but it hit you. it could be your ex’s friend again trying to get on you for breaking up with them.*

y/n: are u sure? because i swear to god if you’re one of my ex’s friends trying to shit on me for breaking up w them i will literally murder you.

miles(?): i swear, i don’t know who your ex is. but are you okay though?

*i sighed in relief, knowing that they stopped doing it.*

y/n: yeah, sorry i’m just paranoid. y/n: i gotta go, talk to you soon?

miles(?): alright, see ya soon hermosa.

……

you closed your phone and start to smile, but it feels like everything that went down happened was only yesterday, time won’t fly for you. it’s like your paralyzed in your own heartbreak.

you lay down in your bed, thoughts drowning in you as you start to fall asleep.

days turn to weeks and you and miles start to become closer friends. and you wouldn’t deny to admit that you liked him, ALOT.

but you never told him. you were scared of commitment ever since it happened.

you never told him, you never bothered to say anything because he never asked you and you were fine with it. until one day.

you both were on the rooftop at his place laughing about anything and everything, talking about what happens.

until he asks a question.

“so, that day, the day you first messaged me about your ex’s friends shitting on you for what happened, whyd you think i was one of them?” he looked at the stars slyly, glancing at you at times.

“well.” you sighed, fiddling around with your fingers,

“i didn’t know who his friends were, so they would come around at work, giving me their number and i would text them obviously and they would always tell me i was cute or something but the next second they just shit on me saying mean stuff and i kinda just couldn’t trust anyone after that.”

he looks back down to look at you , with an apologetic look on his face, when he went to scoot a bit closer to you.

“can i ask what happened?” he asked as his hand was slightly touching yours as you looked at the stars.

“we were happy for a year, everything was fine but they grew distant. they stopped talking to me and always went to clubs and came back home drunk. they seemed off for so long and i went to their place and saw them making out with someone else and i just kinda lost it, because they did this twice and i lost my shit at that point, i haven’t felt love ever since. i just kinda lost motivation, i really want my old self but i just can’t seem to find it.” tears filled your eyes to the brim as i told him everything.

as the tears start to flow out, he hugged you tightly and rubbed your back. “lo siento mucho querida.” he whispered.

“you did nothing wrong okay? it was all them.” he hugged you tighter.

as he pulled back from the hug, wiping the tears from your eyes.

it was silent for a moment after he pulled away.

“i could change that.” he spoke up after the brief silence that filled between us.

you locked at him surprised, “what.. do you mean?”

“you said.. you would never feel love again right..?” his words were soft when he spoke.

you nodded slowly as you turn to look at him looking at the stars.

“well, i could change that.” his head lowered down to look at you but you looked away.

“how will i know you end up the same as they did?” you looked down looking at your knees when you felt his hand grab your chin and pull you in closer for a kiss.

you were shocked at first but then you slowly melt in to the kiss, finally realizing he was the one.

as he pulled away, he held your hand tightly. “i promise i won’t break your heart mi amor.” he whispered. "ill give you the world, the stars if possible, anything for you."

you felt this wave of love you’ve never felt before and it made you feel full, you went to hug him tightly as you never wanted to pull back

“i love you, miles.”

“te quiero también, mi amor. más de lo que sabes.”

after that day, you and miles started dating and it was nothing like you experienced before.

it was always flowers here, flowers there and he was just a straight up gentleman to you.

you just closed up your shop early tonight to go on your first date with miles, and when you both were walking there, you bumped into someone and both crash to the ground.

“oh my god im so sorr-“ you were frantically picking up their stuff to give it back and when you both look at eachother, you stopped talking. it was your ex.

everything, every single memory of you both flowed down your mind and you remembered it all too well.

“amor are you okay?” miles bent down to check on you when he noticed you giving a dirty glance at your ex, and it hit him.

“yeah i’m fine let’s just go.” you tried to stand up but your ex’s hand pulled you back down and restraining you from standing up.

“what the fuck do you want?” you screamed and it grabbed miles attention.

“please, im sorry i didn’t mean it can things just go back the way it was?” he protested and was on their knees begging you to stay

i pulled my hand out of his grip as we both stood up “i already told you, a million fucking times, no.”

“please i’m sorry, i- i was drunk and i wasn’t thinking straight.”

“so you’re telling me, those both times you were drunk and you weren’t thinking straight? those both times you fucking cheated on me and you weren’t thinking straight? you choosing pleasure over our goddamn relationship and you weren’t thinking straight? you could’ve thought for a SINGLE moment, will this affect my relationship? of course it fucking will you asshole. get out of my sight.” you stood back up and walked opposite where your ex was, but they wouldn’t stop and grabbed your hand again.

“just forgive me plea-“ he was about to get on his knees but miles stood infront of you and grabbed their arm tightly so they could release your arm

“back up bro, y/n already told you they don’t want you. don’t make it harder for us. one step closer and you’re gone got it?” miles let go of his hand as a warning and they nodded and ran away and miles turned to you.

“are you okay querida? you aren’t hurt anywhere are you?” he put his arms on your shoulders, scanning your body for any wounds.

“i’m okay, just a bit shaken up." you sighed, fixing your clothes.

miles was genuinely worried about you and you told him everything's fine as long he was with you.

"i'm so sorry amor that they keep doing that to you." he grabbed yout waist and pulled you in a hug.

"you know ill protect you always right?" he pulled away from the hug.

"promise?" you held out your pinky for a pinky promise and smiled softly.

"promise querida." he took his pinky and hooked it with yours and shook it softly and pulled you in another hug.

although you still remember all the heartbreaking memories all too well, you had him and that was enough for you.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

© hearts4hobie.

do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission.

[ibeta]

Unedited Draft: Red and the Light Bird - Dark Mage

[Kustard Below]

———

They found the school after a few days of travel, house-seeking, and rest. Red had all but collapsed into the bed of their newly furnished Hotland house. It was close to the school, but far from the main area of the city. They’d saved enough gold to begin a new life in Hotland, with Red from being a sentry and Edge being a captain back in Snowdin.

“if only they hadn’t taken over the place,” Red mourned.

Some renegade human mages had set off soulless chimeras into Snowdin, which meant the guards had to clean it up. Edge had decided they needed more power, and to him, it meant going to a mage school to get a spirit companion.

Edge would have been fine on his own, but Red was his brother, and he just had to set him as an example.

“GET UP,” Edge ordered. Red turned over the bed and watched as his brother leaned on the frame of his door. “WE NEED THE SCHOLARSHIP, SO MAKE SURE YOU HAVE ENOUGH POINTS FOR IT.”

Red scoffed. “that’s easy. i’ve seen mages before and we both know dad was stronger.”

His brother frowned. “UNDERESTIMATING THE ENEMY ISN’T WISE.”

“i'm not underestimating them.” Red knew what bad it would do to underestimate his competition. He’d seen it happen in Snowdin whenever someone took one look at him and thought he was free EXP. “just saying, not many mages can compare to us.”

“WE CAN’T LET THAT GET INTO OUR HEAD,” his brother snapped. Red crossed his legs and propped himself up on his elbows.

“i'd rather go to the church to fight the bishops,” he groused.

He wasn’t wrong to say the mages paled in comparison to their old father. However, the bishops had enough power to put up a fight. They were just arrogant enough to call their magic as something divine. Even babies in Snowdin knew that only divinity had divine power, and that the inhabitants of the world had magic.

“bet they’d be more of a challenge because of their baptism.”

Baptisms were divine-blessed rituals that allowed monsters or humans to receive a small blessing from their respective churches.

“DON’T JINX US.” But Edge smirked at him, so Red shrugged back. “PRIESTS ARE STRONG FROM DIVINE GIFTS, SOME MAGES CAN’T COMPARE. COMPANIONS ARE NOT SIMPLY ONES TO SHARE THEIR POWER. THEY ARE THE POWER, AND THROUGH US, THEY STAY IN THIS WORLD.”

“dunno how those fuckers get away with being assholes to mages anyway,” Red muttered as he got up from bed.

He grabbed his bag from the floor, stepping beside his brother.

“c’mon, better finish this now than later. the market’s just blocks away from the school, right?”

“YES.”

“let’s take a look.”

He and his brother headed out, passing by monsters who threw them strange looks. Red assumed it was because of their attire. Red hadn’t bothered removing the thick robes around him and Edge wore a fitted armour with a thick scarf around his neck.

As they went through the market, Red caught sight of a vendor sitting on the ground. They wore a thick robe and a big hood that covered their head. It reminded him of the Riverperson from Waterfall, except for the thick, elaborate cloth before them filled with old books.

From Red’s estimation, the bindings of the book, the markings of its covers, and the aged pages looked legitimate.

“wait, lemme check this out.” Red motioned his head to the vendor.

Edge threw him a look, and then glanced at the vendor and their wares. He hummed. “I’LL BE HEADING TO THE TOWER,” Edge told him, pointing at the tall structure near the plaza. “MEET ME THERE WHEN YOU’RE DONE.”

Red nodded and palmed his robes for his pouch. After confirming it hadn’t been stolen, he headed for the vendor.

“hey,” he called out. The vendor’s hood tilted to the side. Red took it as an acknowledgement. “how much for all of that?” He pointed at the books carefully placed on the cloth.

Red didn’t bother to read the book covers – the golden eye design on the binding usually indicated books that related to gods. Other symbols, like a soul-shaped one, indicated soul magic. This vendor had a variety of books on gods, soul magic, monster magic, human magic…

The robed vendor raised a hand and stretched it out. They wore a pair of white gloves, almost immaculate. Red assumed they could be some runaway noble from the Capital, looking for some spare change to live in Hotland.

“five gold?” Red guessed. There were seven books on the vendor’s cloth. It wasn’t an unfair price, considering his wares looked well-maintained.

The robed vendor lifted their head.

Red shivered involuntarily when he saw nothing but darkness under their hood. It wasn’t just shadow, it was…

Dark magic.

A flutter of his soul pounded inside him. Red started sweating excess magic as the vendor kept up his hand. Dark magic was strong enough to dust monsters at a single touch, if the intention of the caster meant harm.

The vendor couldn’t possibly be a monster, since it wasn’t compatible with their magic. They couldn’t possibly be human, either, not when humans were banned in Hotland.

Shit, they might be some kind of abomination.

Red stayed still in front of their merchandise, mind spinning ways to get out of the city.

“———,” the vendor moved their hands. Red blinked as the hands formed a gesture. Hand-speak.

“five… bottles…” Red wracked his skull, squinting. What was that strange gesture…? “five bottles of… what’s that word?”

The vendor paused and then spelled it out for him.

“j-o-k-e-s,” Red spelled out loud. Then, he paused. Jokes? The vendor wanted jokes? “wait, you want… five bottles of jokes?”

The vendor’s shoulders trembled. Then, they slowly spelled out something.

“what – no, that one meant bottle.”

Red frowned at them. The vendor shook their head, making another motion.

Red scowled and crouched down. Dark mage or not, he wasn’t about to lose on hand-speak. “no, that one means it’s a bottle.” He learned that one from his father’s books.

Then the vendor kept making gestures and Red slowly figured out why they were having problems communicating.

“hey...”

The vendor stopped gesturing towards him. Red shivered as what seemed like a thousand eyes stared at him from their darkened hood.

“are ya speaking in ancient hands?” It was the only one Red didn’t know.

He swiftly received an affirmative hand-speak motion. Red’s nerves and soul faltered.

Fuck. An old dark mage would be worrying – the longer dark mages lived, the better their dark magic. But that also meant…

Red’s gaze dropped to the old books in front of him. The books would have to be very old if the dark mage spoke in ancient hands.

One of them had no title, simply a black cover and a white seven-pointed star with a dark circle within its core. A golden eye had been inscribed into its bindings.

It looked the most mysterious of all their books, which had caught Red’s attention the first time he’d glanced over.

Curiosity won over the deep-seated fear of dark magic.

Red looked back into the dark mage’s shadowed hood. “can, uh… can you teach me that bottle-like gesture again? ‘cause i didn’t understand what it meant.”

The vendor spelled it out for him, with exaggerated motion. Red nearly sighed in relief.

Yeah, five books of jokes wasn’t a problem. He had… huh. He remembered having five of them in his bag. They weren’t exactly the best, but… well, if the dark mage wanted joke books, then he’d give him some.

“deal.”

Then, the vendor chuckled, deep and low. Red’s sockets widened. “deal,” they echoed, in the same lowercase accent.

Shit, the guy could talk, which meant Red had been… what, entertaining a really old dark mage who thought it’d be fun to mess with him? What use was it to speak in hands? Red didn’t understand why the dark mage would… Well, it would have been more likely that the dark mage had been trying to teach him ancient hands.

Red dropped five joke books on the tray beside the vendor, shuddering as he noticed dark tendrils of magic stretch out of the vendor’s shadow. It curled up around the tray and swallowed the books. It retreated, leaving the ground empty of the tray. Afterwards, the vendor took out an old-looking leather pouch from their sleeve and gathered the books together. Red’s eyelights blew wide when the vendor shoved each one into the leather pouch, all five of the books, and then placed the cloth in it, too.

Spatial magic on a leather pouch. Red kept getting even more and more surprised.

Sweating, Red watched as the dark mage reached out. Red reflexively held out his hand and received the leather pouch. The vendor chuckled at him, hood cocked to the side.

Red stood up and said, “thank you.” Politely. Otherwise, who knew what kind of trouble he’d get into if he offended a dark mage in the middle of the city’s market. His bones would rattle so much if he wasn’t holding on to shreds of courage.

The vendor tilted their head up. In the darkness of their hood, Red witnessed two eyelights manifest – an impossibly pure light for a dark mage.

“enjoy,” the dark mage rasped out a chuckle, and then a single orb disappeared.

It took Red a moment to realise the vendor winked at him. Magic flushed through his skull as he croaked, “yeah, i will, bye!”

Swiftly, he turned around and headed for the tower in the distance.

For a moment, as he walked away, he heard a familiar laughing trill of a bird. However, when he glanced around, he saw no tree that held a light bird.

———

Red brought that to himself. He asked for flirting, and he got Flirting. Sans' version of flirting, I think. First, it was a bird. Now, it's your scary dark mage vendor.

[tr1ckysp00k]

Bob x nurse reader

part 2

A dose of passion

[warning: strong language, mentioning of syringes, slight threatening, ¿suggestive?]

/not proof read/

Enjoy! <3

You woke up to the morning rooster singing its ear-bleeding song. Getting up in annoyance while grabbing a sock that was sitting at the edge of your nightstand and heading towards the window

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You yelled, throwing the balled up sock at the bird that disturbed your slumber. You knew what was awaiting for you at work. You knew today was gonna be another day in hell with that tramp, bob.

You got ready anyways. Pinching the bridge of your nose when you where in the front of the hospital. Taking a breath in.

Preparing yourself for what was awaiting for you behind the glass door.

Day 2 • 10:00

You entered, swinging your arms as you walked.

Once you were clocked in, you headed to your patients room.

‘Just a few more weeks, and then this bug is out of my hair’

A slight smile emerges on your face at the thought.

You opened the door to find bob standing at the entrance. His eyes wide as can be and he had his iconic smile on his face.

“WHAT THE HELL!?”

You scream in pure shock, grabbing your other fellow workers attention. Guess he missed you.

“Docs! Yer back” he says, his face full of enlightenment. He was glad to have his favorite toy back with him.

You huffed in annoyance, you hated when he called you that. But not as much as you hated him.

“Go sit back down.” You say in a growl. Surprisingly he committed on doing what he was told.

“A please woulda been nice.” He pouted, giving a frown.

“Yeah yeah.” You groaned in irritation.

“Did you get breakfast yet?” You quizzed the large man, which was slouching in bed, flipping through channels with a singular remote sitting in his hand.

“Nope.” He says, his attention still on the tv above him.

“Dam it.” You huffed, you had to deal with a straight up cannibalistic serial killer, all your workers could to help was feed him. You’re completely fed up.

You’re expected to deal with problems by yourself, without a helping hand. When can you have a break?. .

You return to the room, with a tray of Luke-warm ‘food’ resting in your hands. How can patients eat this stuff? It’s like prison food!

You enter, setting the tray of food down on bob lap.

He cringes in disgust once again at the slop that was infront of him. At least give him salt.

When he was eating, something spotted your eye. A deep cut rested on his arm. You interrupted his gagging by softly grabbing at his arm.

Now all of his attention was on you.

“Did I miss a cut? My bad, lemme fix it for you real quick.” You say while grabbing a needle and a piece of thread. first you disinfected it, then proceeded to work your *magic*.

Bob stared down at you as you began to work. Wincing a bit at the needle thriving into his skin, but needless to say he was more focused on you.

He knew you didn’t care for him. You were just doing your job. Oh, but the thought of you being all his made him swoon. Just maybe one day, not now but one day. .

he’ll have you all to himself.

“Done!” You declared, interrupting his thoughts.

“Thank ya docs.” He said in a soft gravely voice, while giving you a tender smile. His faced bathed in red.

You took notice.

“Is it hot in here or something? I can turn down the temperature.” You stated, to be honest a bit worried of how red he was.

“Nah, I’m fine.” He says softly, as he gazes at your beautiful being. He took back his hand to put the tray aside. The food was utterly horrible. He couldn’t even finish it.

“Well I gotta check on some other patients. I’ll be right back, don’t cause any trouble.” You squinted your eyes, while pointing one hand at him, then disappearing from his sight.

His smile slowly fading, for now he is alone in a isolated room. He gets out of bed and makes his way to the door. Even though you haven’t even been gone for a minute, he is waiting at the door, his meaner akin to a dog waiting for its beloved owner.

Little do you know, he yearns for you. The very first day he laid his eyes onto you, he craves for nothing more but you.

You made a spark ignite within him.

And you may not know it yet, but you like him too. You’ll have to.

After minute of waiting he finally heard that soft jingle of the door knob being mingled with. A smile brought back to his face. You opened the door to be greeted in surprise once again by bob. You jolted up, but didn’t scream this time.

“Quit doing that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” You hissed in annoyance, only to make him laugh.

~Small time skip~

You sat in a rusty chair near him, listing down stuff on a piece of paper while bob hovered over your shoulder.

“Dude, some room please?” Your waved your hand at him, prompting him to ‘shoo’ away.

“Only because ya said ‘please’ this time.” Bob slouched, he raised one arm to rest his head under, while a remote rested in his other hand.

“I swear to god, your annoying. .” You gave a slight growl. You didn’t have to be ‘polite’ to him.

“Come on, ya have to like me a lil bit.” He purred, his tone was low and soft.

His smile on his face soon was wiped off clean. .

“Oh please, I don’t like you. If anything I hate you, you’ve been nothing but a prick in the ass.” You seethed.

This made his cringe his nose. He furrowed his brows at you, a bit appalled by the words coming out of your mouth.

“You might want to be carful to who your talkin’ to. .” He growls narrowing his eyes at you.

“Pfff, I ain’t scared of you!” You tittered with pride, only for him to emerge of the sheets of the bed. You flinched at the act.

When he made his way towards you,you ran out of spite, with him following behind. You threw yourself onto the door, only for him to close it shut close again and throw you the other way, knocking you into a shelf. Syringes fell from one of the shelves, catching your attention. You grab one in swiftness, then throwing yourself on bob.

He grabbed the arm that held the shot with a intense grip and pulls your arm near his chest. His claws digging into your wrist, making sure you weren’t able to try and stab that dastardly needle into him.

“LET ME GO YOU SICKO!”

You yell, attempting to yank your hands back.

His eye bored into yours, with a sadistic yet passionate gaze.

“Docs. .” He started his breathing uneven ever-so-slightly.

“Whether or not you try hiding it, I just want you to know. .” By now he is towering over you, his massive structure made you look small. Your eyes engulfed with terror. He smiles even more.

Your fear amuses him.

“I know you love me. . Even if it’s Deep deep deep down. You cannot deny it, doc’s.” He growls in a passionate manner. his grip tightening as your eyes widened.

You whine slightly, letting the syringe drop to the floor. Completely lost in his eyes.

Not too long after, he let you pull away. You rubbed your wrist, still making eye quiet contact with him.

“You don’t know what your saying, I’m only doing my job.. and you’re making it harder than it is.” you spat harshly. He gave a bit of a smirk.

He knew better. You should know too.

You picked up the syringe swiftly, afraid he would pounce at you. you didn’t trust to leave it on the floor near him. What if he tries to use it on you? You wouldn’t put it past him to do such a thing. Especially after this little skit he pulled off just now.

Time skip• 7:00

The day was coming to an end, you were grateful that it was better than yesterday. Though bobs words stayed stained in your head for a while.

Could he be right?

Could you have feelings for him?

Trying a new writing style, god this took a while.

Thank you for reading!