#last time he tried to help he made Mickey the top

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Me: I just have so much to do!

Husband: like what? Maybe I can help.

Me: I have my galladrabble, gallacraft, my gallavich triple trope event piece and my gallavich big bang, plus my current gallavich wips.

Husband: ... so you have a bunch of projects for your little gay characters?

Me: yes.

Husband: yeah I'm not helping with that. Ian and mickey projects are all yours.

[fatkish]

Hi!! 🐶 anon here. Was wondering if I could request a sort-of sequel to the last fic I requested? Like the reader after being rescued by him has separation anxiety from him and their therapist recommended for now reader stays close by him, so he’s taking a break from hero work, but for teaching he just brings reader along? So basically 1-a seeing reader being clingy and stuff with Aizawa. Maybe they experience a PTSD episode, idk. Just something like that! Take ur time with this request ^^;;

Aizawa x SA Victim Reader Part 2

After going to a therapist for a few months, the therapist decided that it would probably be best to slowly reintroduce you to social situations

Since Aizawa was the only person who you seemed to trust wholly and entirely, your therapist suggested that he work with you

The first few activities were simple enough

A walk in the park, literally, you both held hands or stuck together as you spent an hour in the public space

The next was a picnic in the park, Aizawa had made Bentos for the both of you. They had chicken Katsu on top of fried rice and for sides he put stir fired vegetables and some seaweed wrapped tamagoyaki. He brought a blanket with you guys as well as drinks and you both sat together and ate your lunches

Plenty of women would giggle seeing such a cute seen of a father and daughter

After a couple of these outages your therapist suggested slightly more densely populated areas

So your next adventure was grocery shopping with Aizawa. He promised you that you didn’t need to worry or feel paranoid because he’d be watching your back

You were slightly anxious when walking down aisles that other people were in but you simply held Aizawa’s hand and persevered

After each outing Aizawa would give you a soft smile and tell you how well you did and how he’s so proud of you

If you panic or freak out, he’ll pick you up and have you focus on him, and tell you that you’re safe because you’re with him and he won’t let anything hurt you

During one of the grocery trips, a kind old lady remarked about how cute it was seeing a little girl with her dad

After giving you a compliment the old lady offered you a candy to which you looked at Aizawa to see if it was okay. He smiled and gently nudged you forward and you accepted it and thanked the lady.

After a few more outings at places like grocery stores, restaurants, the mall basically just any place where people are closer together, and after having a few interactions with people, your therapist thought it was time to focus on social interactions

For this, Aizawa begrudgingly agreed to getting you a service/guard dog. Basically the dog would stay at your side and alert to any potential threats and lead you away. If you had a panic attack, the dog would sit or lay on you and help ground you. If someone tried to attack you, there were specific words in a foreign language that would tell the dog to attack

Now that you had this dog, Aizawa decided it was time he returned to teaching

The first thing he did was introduce you to the teachers. Coincidentally, Vlad kind had brought his bulldog in that day. You immediately warmed up to his dog and was somewhat okay with him since he kinda looked like his dog

Later you met Nedzu who you immediately had the urge to pet. Aizawa thought Nedzu would be mad when you pet his head and asked if he was Mickey Mouse’s cousin

Nedzu laughed and smiled not bothered at all by your curiosity, infact, Nedzu was more than happy to help teach you and satisfy your curious mind

After a few days getting to know the school, Aizawa decided to introduce you to his class

This is when things went south

Despite having warned his students (particularly a certain grape head) about your past and to be careful with their words, some obviously didn’t get the memo

Upon entering the class, many had greeted you which spooked you a bit

The first students you were comfortable with were Asui, Momo, Koda and Todoroki

Asui and Momo seemed very mellow and almost motherly in their calm and relaxed demeanors. Todoroki was quite and greeted you once but then seemingly ignored you which actually made you feel good because you felt that it meant he wouldn’t come after you. Koda was quite but your dog seemed to like him which is why you trusted him

The students had tried not to scare you but Iida, Bakugou, Ashido, Uraraka, Kirishima and Kaminari had spooked you

Ashido had practically jumped on you telling you how cute you were which scared you, Uraraka, and Iida were really loud which scared you. Kirishima didn’t really understand personal space to which Kaminari tried to tell him off, albeit, a bit loudly, which them prompted Bakugou to use his quirk setting off explosions and yelling at everyone to shut up cause they’re obviously scaring you

When the class went quiet it allowed for you to hear what Mineta had said

Of couse, he had to make a comment about how hot you’d look in a few years as he imagined you with a curvaceous body whilst making a lewd face and drooling

This triggered you

Bakugou immediately slammed his hand down on Mineta’s desk setting of small explosions and yelling at him

You started to hyperventilate and ran away to Nedzu’s office since he made you feel calm

When Nedzu saw your upset state he made you some tea and offered you some cookies while he asked you yes or no questions

Whilst Nedzu calmed you down and talked with you, Aizawa yelled at his students and decided that something had to be done with Mineta. Once he managed to get his class back under control, he was about to deal out punishments when the door opened with Nedzu in front and you behind him

You ran to Aizawa and he immediately wrapped his arms around you. Nedzu then walked into the room and nodded at Aizawa, giving him permission (read as kindly ordered him) to leave the room

As Aizawa cradled you and walked you to the teacher’s lounge to settle you down, Nedzu asked the class what happened and after lecturing them for 2 hours, Nedzu finished his lecture by Expelling Mineta and blacklisting him from any hero courses

That night, Aizawa made sure to have your favorite food for dinner and made sure that you felt safe and gave you all the cuddles you could ask for

(Hope you enjoyed this puppy 🐶 anon. And I hope it helps)

[roosterforme]

Well now I’m just thinking about Jake and Darlin’ when Jake has a deployment :(( But Darlin would definitely send the cutest care packages that the US military has ever seen and Jake would be the envy of the ship (???? Idk, deployment group??) because his young hot girlfriend goes all out when sending him care packages and gives him the best stuff

Let's build off of this thought. Darlin' is a good student, and she would be so bored and lonely while he was gone. She would finish her schoolwork and then use her free time without Jake around to make him care packages. When she was at the store collecting snacks and pretty stationery for her endeavors, she would run into Cooper...

"Hey."

You looked up from the silver notecards and the embossed paper to see Cooper standing at the end of the aisle. "Hi," you replied without much feeling. It had been weeks since you made a quick stop at a party with Kylie where he tried to get you to hook up again while Jake went to the bar for Mickey's birthday. You told him you had a boyfriend and excused yourself, but now you realized you couldn't think of anything else to say to him.

"What are you shopping for?" he asked.

You looked back down at the items in your hands. "Stuff to send to my boyfriend while he's deployed," you said boldly.

"Deployed? How old is he?"

You just shrugged and said, "Older than you."

Cooper looked like he wanted to roll his eyes as he said, "Why don't you give me a call if you get bored." And then he walked away.

"Eww," you said to yourself, opting for the silver note cards, adding them to your cart along with the snacks, white tee shirt and paints. "I'll never be that bored."

You spent your weekend writing notes, taking sassy polariods, and packing up a huge box with the snacks spread out on top. You wore the shirt that you made which said Darlin' Loves Jake which may have made an appearance in some of the photos you took. Then on Monday, you send the box off to the middle of the damn ocean where you hoped Jake was safe and sound.

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

Jake opened his mail in the lounge one evening, parusing the letters from his sisters, saving the massive cardboard box for last. He missed you so much, it was hard to sleep. Nobody gave him any attitude whatsoever, and the pizza on the carrier was worse than the stuff you liked.

The package from you did not disappoint, he pulled out mounds of candy and snacks, and the other guys immediately started asking him if they could have some.

"Sure. Help yourselves," he muttered, already more interested in the note cards and pictures.

He was just opening the first envelope he found when one of the guys cleared his throat and said, "I think you dropped this." Jake looked up to see him holding out a polaroid picture of you in a shirt that said Darlin' Loves Jake. You clearly weren't wearing a bra. "Your girlfriend's hot."

"I know," Jake snapped, taking the photo from his hand. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 3]

Part 1 - Part 2

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: After not hearing from Noah for weeks, Y/N finds herself at a wedding with the boys.

Warnings: swearing, a tiny bit of angst, tension, mentions of previous sexual events, MDNI, alcohol consumption, let me know if I forgot something :)

A/N: Hello my beautiful people. I wrote this chapter last night. All at once. My head was completely empty after that. Please don't hate me for the cliffhanger ._. Please let me know how you liked this chapter! Enjoy c:

It’s been two weeks since the eventful night that ended with you under Noah’s bed. To your surprise Nick didn’t catch you, not even when you nearly sneezed because of the dust under Noah’s bed. But to your disappointment you didn’t talk with Noah about this whole thing. In all honesty you didn’t even talk at all. The day after the event, you got called by your landlord that your apartment was ready to be lived in again.

That's way you were now, two weeks later, on a thursday, sitting in front of your computer and answering work emails while listening to your upstairs neighbors screaming at each other repeatedly.

When you looked at the clock, it told you it was already time for bed since tomorrow was going to be an important day. One of your childhood friends was getting married this weekend and invited you as well as the boys, since she knew almost everyone out of the group personally except Jolly. But since he almost became everyone's 'service human' she invited him as well.

When you shut down your PC and stretched your back, you couldn't help but think about Noah. You hadn't heard from him in a while. While your brother told you they were working on planing another tour, even going to Europe, you felt kind of sad that he didn't tell you that himself, since you fucking crawled under his bed to escape being caught by your brother.

You almost started to feel something like regret when you stepped into your shower, your mind still infested with the thoughts of Noah's and your 'adventure'. Even though you knew better, you couldn't help feeling like he just used you. It wasn't like Noah had no options, he was the fucking lead singer of a popular metalcore band and looked like the reallife version of Eren Yeager.

It wasn't like you hadn't any options too, having your families genes, but something about Noah just made you feel different.

When you stepped out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body before swiping over the fogged up mirror and looking at yourself. Work drained you the last couple of days and you really looked forward to tomorrow since you would be away for almost three days.

So when you packed your bag and finally lay down on your bed, you tried to think about the break you had from your life here for the next couple of days.

Your alarm woke you up at 8 AM. While your plane wouldn't take off until 6 PM, you knew the boys and yourself well enough to give you some extra time to arrive to the airport.

You stood up, put on some music, that being your Bring Me The Horizon playlist today, and began to get ready. First you did your chores and cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned before you would leave for the next days.

Than you made your way to the bathroom at around 11 AM, brushing your teeth, putting on some light make up and than packing the last bit of the things you needed for the wedding.

You almost danced into the kitchen to finally make yourself breakfast, still wearing nothing but a very tiny crop top and mickey mouse panties.

"Time stood still the way it did before" You sang while opening your fridge to grab a milk to pour inside your filled cereal bowl. "It's like I'm sleepwalk-... AAH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

Out of fear you let your bowl drop to the floor, it making a loud shattering noise while the whole content spread across the kitchen tiles. The intruders, outing themselves as Nick, Folio, Noah and Jolly, laughed violently.

You cursed them out while starting to clean your kitchen and at the same time trying to cover yourself up. "What is wrong with you, guys? I could have been naked! You know I have something called a bell which you can ring to make yourselves known instead of breaking into my stupid apartment, you little fuckers?!"

"That would have been a sight." Jolly joked while standing up with the other boys to help you clean up the mess. "I'll kill you, Karlsson. They'll have to find another guitarist and buy a new guitar because I'll smash yours at your fucking beautiful head." You cursed while wiping up the milk with a rag. You heard Noah laugh behind you, who made it his task to prepare you a new cereal bowl.

"Here you go." He handed you your breakfast. "Sit down and eat, we'll clean the rest."

While you still wanted to set them on fire, you bit back you anger and thanked them for their help before sitting down to eat.

"We wanted to come here early since normally you're always the one being early." Folio explained while sitting down next to you. You took the last spoon. "It's fine but if you do that ever again, I'll take the key from my brother, break it into four pieces and show it up your asses."

"Arousing.", Jolly joked again, causing you to throw the paper work, laying on the kitchen counter, at him.

"Oh, we didn't tell you." Nick started his sentence. "Davis is waiting outside in the car. He offered to drop us of at the airport."

You sighed while cleaning up your bowl, before making your way to your bedroom, getting dressed in something comfortable, grabbing your bag and your dress for the wedding, before heading out of your apartment, not even looking back at the boys. They quickly followed you.

At 5:45 PM you found yourself getting onto the plane and soon realised you were seated next to Noah, meaning you would spent the next five and a half hours sweating out of nervousness.

The first thirty minutes you didn't say a word. Just looked straight ahead and thought about not thinking about Noah which resulted in (oh wonder) thinking about Noah.

The next thirty minutes you tried to listen to music while reading a book, but after you read a spicy scene while listening to The Death of Peace of Mind, you gave that up too.

The next ten minutes you shifted uncomfortably from left to right, causing Noah to finally break the silence. "Are you okay?" His tone gave away that he was in fact slightly annoyed by your actions.

"Why shouldn't I be okay?", you asked finally sitting comfortable and looking him in the eyes. "Because you ignored me for the past hour?" - "Do you have something to say to me?" He stayed silent. "That's what I thought."

You looked straight ahead again, trying to ignore the confused gaze Noah shot you. When he didn't look away for the next five minutes, you glared at him again. "What, Noah?" - "Why are you like this?" He tried to stay as quiet as possible. "Like what?" - "Almost... bitchy?" Your mouth fell open, startled by his words. "What did you just say?" You almost hissed at him. "You heard me." - "Maybe you should think about your own actions before calling me bitchy, Mr. Davis." -

"Oh, don't 'Davis' me, Ruffilo." He shot back and now fully turned to you. You really didn't know how you managed to keep it quiet until now. "Oh, I'm going to continue to 'Davis' you until you realise not messaging someone for weeks who gave you head and than hid under your bed, isn't really 'Noah-worthy', don't you think?" You whisper-shouted at him and were glad that so many people were talking on the plane that the others surely didn't hear your argument.

With that sentence of yours his attitude was slapped out of his body and he began to back down a bit. You knew Noah had a big ego but it was definitely not as big as yours.

It went quiet between you for another thirty minutes, before Noah sighed. "You know, I'm really sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never would want that."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before your chest. "But you did." You heard him take a deep breath before he placed a hand on your thigh, instantly giving you goose bumps.

"Please let us talk about this when we come back home. I don't wanna fight with you." He requested honestly, causing you to shortly look at him before gnashing your teeth in consideration. "I don't wanna fight with you either."

He squeezed your thigh for a short moment before smiling at you lightly.

The next hour you spent avoiding the big topic hanging between you and decided catch up since you didn't hear from each other personally for almost two weeks. You didn't even know when it happened but the next thing you knew was when someone pushed your hair out of your face.

"Y/N, you need to wake up." Noah whispers into your ear, causing your neck hair to stand up. "We'll land in a couple of minutes."

When you opened your eyes, you noticed you had leaned against Noah's shoulder in your sleep. You quickly sat up and stretched your back before shooting Noah a shy smile. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Jolly had noticed what had happened and now was smirking to himself.

When you arrived at the location, which was a mansion-like hotel only booked for the wedding party over the weekend, you were quickly assigned two rooms for the five of you. Since you were all tired and drained from the flight, you decided Nick and Folio would share a room and the rest of you would get the other.

You quickly changed and fell onto your single bed when you got to your room and slept in to the sound of Noah and Jolly chatting before sleep.

You woke up before the boys and decided to get ready before their alarms would go off. So when you came out of the bathroom, showered and only dressed with your towel, you didn't think to hear a 'Good Morning' from Noah, considering it was about twenty minutes before 6 AM.

"Morning." You mumble, slightly overwhelmed by the sight of him. He didn't wear a shirt, fully displaying his tattoos. His arms were crossed behind his head and he shamelessly checked you out.

So while you gathered your clothes, you couldn't help but look at him a couple of times, before returning to the bathroom. Right before you were about to close the door, Noah slipped into the bathroom as well.

"What are you doing?" You whisper-shouted at him, before putting your clothes on the bathroom counter. He also put down his clothes and his towel next to yours.

"If you don't mind I would shower while you put on your make up." He said and before you could answer, he turns away from you to strip out of your clothes, making your eyes widen. "What if Jolly wakes up? What the fuck do you tell him than?" - "He won't wake up" After that sentence he climbed into the shower while you stared at him through the shower glass.

"Sometimes I hate you, Noah Sebastian." - "No, you don't."

You were halfway through your make up when Noah came out of the shower. You swallowed hard while trying your utter best not to stare at him but when he wrapped his towel low around his waist, you couldn't help but shoot him a glance. The way the water drops found their way down his torso sent a wave of heat down your core.

"Do you have something to say?" He asked teasingly. "No, you?" When he said nothing you took a deep breath before applying mascara while he put on some underwear. Right when you placed the mascara back into your make up bag, you felt his hands on your hips, making you sigh.

You closed your eyes when you felt his breath on your neck. "You already look so beautiful, I can't wait to see you in your dress." I can't wait for you to take it off of me. You thought but quickly regained control, clearing your throat and opening your eyes to see Noah already looking at you through the mirror. "You look really good yourself."

"I'm not even wearing clothes." - "As if you don't know how gorgeous you look right now." That was the moment. The first time you saw Noah's cheeks turn into a slight pink color before a small smile crept onto his face. In all those years, this was truly the first time you left him speechless.

He squeezed your hips one last time before mumbling a small 'Thank you.' Than he left the bathroom right in time for Jolly's alarm to go off.

About an hour later the three of you were almost ready when there was a knock on the door.

"We are late." Your brother announced when Noah opened the door for him and Folio but stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there while braiding a strand of Jolly's hair. "I don't even ask"

"What? Have you seen him? Have you seen his hair?" You defend your actions while you secure his small braided strand with an elastic. After Jolly thanked you, you turned to fully face you brother.

"Wow, you look amazing, Y/N." Nick states while admiring your dress. The motto of the wedding being 'Black/White/Red' gave you the idea do base your outfit off of the iconic Morticia Addams. You wore a long black dress that flattered your curves with slightly too long bat sleeves. Your fingernails matched with your lipstick, both being the same shade of dark red.

"More than amazing." Noah added shooting you an honest smile that made your stomach twist with joy.

You all hurried to make it in time for the ceremony, not having time to catch up with old school friends, since you were already late.

Even though you weren't that close with the bride and groom, only remembering her from school, you had tears in your eyes by the time they exchanged their vows. This didn't go unnoticed by Noah, who slowly but surely grabbed your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

No matter how delusional that sounded, for a brief moment you thought if there was any future where you would be standing up there with Noah. You quickly shook the thought out of your head by how imaginary the thought sounded but you knew one thing, even if you weren't the wedding couple, Noah would be standing up there with you. There was no way that a universe existed were Noah wasn't in your live. As confusing this whole thing had gotten, there was this one thing you were sure of and from which you would never let yourself be dissuaded.

So you looked at the man you had known for so many years and gave him a smile while squeezing his hand in reassurance.

Around six hours and 30 half-hearted conversations later, you found yourself sitting next to Jolly at your assigned table. "If another person asks me how i've been since school ended, imma drown myself in sparkling wine." You complained to your friend who chuckled at your statement. "I feel with you." You both let your gaze wonder over the party room. A lot of people were pretty wasted, including the bride who was currently dancing to Gangnam Style with her maid of honor. When you looked to her right, you almost choked on your drink. "Fuck, Jolly. You know who this is?" You slightly point your finger at a guy standing at the bar, talking to the groom. "Uhm... no. I don't know anyone except you guys." "That is Michael fucking Baldrow." "Who?" "She slept with that guy when she was... let me think... 18?" Noah answered for you, scaring you a bit before sitting down next to you, looking absolutely done.

"Naaah, was he the one who picked your cherry?" Jolly teased bumping his arm against yours. You almost immediately looked to Noah and with that your fate was decided. You couldn't stop Jolly from putting 1 and 1 together. "NO FUCKING WAY."

You tensed up, shooting a glare at Jolly. "Shut the fuck up." - "Noah and you... No fucking way. This story is getting better everyday." - "I told you to shut up." - "Noah fucking took your virginity?! I can't even breath."

You grabbed Jolly's arm and looked him dead serious in the eye. "If you don't calm down I assure you, this will be your last breath."

Jolly hold his laughter while apologizing to you. You took a deep breath before looking at Noah, who smirked at you. "What, Noah?" - "It's been ten years, I think it is okay if we finally let someone know."

"Nick doesn't know, does he?" Jolly than asks while searching for your brother in the crowd. You all found him standing at the bar, talking to one of his old friends. "No, he doesn't and I think I like it that way." You took a sip from your glass.

"He also doesn't know about the last weeks, does he?" Jolly than asks while smirking, causing Noah and you to ultimately choke on your drinks.

"What did you say?" - "I talked about the fact that you two were definitely fucking on his birthday party." He said that with such a lack of emotion that you weren't sure if he was joking.

You and Noah's eyes met and for a couple of seconds you both seemed to try to process what your friend just set, when he added: "No need for excuses, I also heard that Noah showered while you got ready this morning."

You shot Noah the 'I told you so' glance but before you could defend yourselves, 'Sweet Child of Mine' by Guns 'N' Roses started playing and Jolly forced the two of you on the dance floor, leaving no room to protest.

On the way to the dance floor he managed to catch Folio and Nick and you found yourselves in a circle, dumbly fidgeting around, but with every second passing you forgot about the fact that you couldn't dance and just let go of your worries.

You were here with your bestest of friends. That was everything that mattered to you in this moment.

And than. Than Noah came close to you and whispered in your ear.

"Meet me at our room in five."

What?

READ PART 4 HERE

[gallawitchxx]

29 for the kisses, please!

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#29: ...as a promise

The digital clock on the wall is a goddamn tease.

How is it only three-thirty?

It’s not the worst job in the world, working the reception desk at an auto repair shop. It’s mostly just answering phones and handing out intake forms. Running credit cards upon drop-off and pick-up, and using what little knowledge he has about cars to field basic questions. Ian’s a little surprised that his parole officer had stuck him in a place that was clearly running some kind of illegal chop shop after hours, but whatever.

Southside is as Southside does.

But today has been fucking dragging. A shipping delay had pushed a ton of work back a week or two, so there was only one pick-up on the books, and it had already happened. At nine a.m., right at the beginning of his eight-hour shift. One can only clean a desk so many times before starting to feel a little buzzed off cleaning spray fumes, so for the past couple of hours, Ian’s been supremely bored, his mind bouncing from one topic to another, trying to keep him occupied, but away from the mechanical sounds coming from the belly of the shop.

The ones coming from the only mechanic on duty today—Mickey.

Jesus, Ian’s got it bad for the guy.

Between Mickey’s filthy fucking mouth, greased-up knuckle tattoos, and the way his ass looks in a pair of coveralls, Ian never really stood a chance. But then he had to go and be funny and smart and secretly sweet with the kids who come in with their parents, and in no time at all, Ian was halfway to being fully in love.

The way Mickey looks at him doesn’t help the situation either, nor does the coffee and Kind bar combo he drops at Ian’s desk every shift, which means Mickey heard and remembered an off-the-cuff comment Ian made one morning when discussing break room snacks with the shop owner.

But what’s really making things hard—literally—is what happened the last time he saw Mickey…

A few nights back, a freak downpour had collided with a blocked drainpipe and flooded the shop’s main floor. They’d had to shut the whole place down so that the mechanics could instead work on pumping rainwater back outside where it belonged. When the worst of it was over, Mickey promised to take care of the rest, shooing the other guys out the door and home to their families. Ian, who didn’t have anywhere to be, and was a bit distracted by the way Mickey’s wet tank top was clinging to his cut chest, offered to stay and help finish the job.

Help Mickey out with another job, too...

But that was days ago, and even though Ian’s knees still ache from where he’d knelt on damp concrete, they haven’t talked since. Not even when Mickey had dropped off his breakfast! Ian had been on the phone, the timing of which felt suspect.

By the time four-o-clock crawls around, Ian’s worked up the nerve to go say something. But then the chime on the door alerts him to someone coming in, and before he can even say hello, some asshole is screaming at him about promised timelines and demanding a refund.

Ian puts on his best customer service smile and tries to smooth things out, but it doesn’t work. More yelling ensues.

“Ey, there a problem up here?” Mickey’s voice cuts through the noise.

“Yeah, there is,” spits the douchebag. “My car was supposed to be ready a fucking week ago, and this idiot here can’t seem to make that happen.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Mickey says, taking a step forward. “Imma stop you right there.” He looks at Ian for the first time (since he came down his throat). “Gallagher, can you head to the back and grab me the project file? Should be somewhere on my station.”

Ian blinks. “But the files aren’t—“

“Now, Ian,” Mickey commands, his blue eyes blazing. “Go.”

“Sure thing,” he says, rising from his chair.

The rage-red moron has the nerve to fucking smirk at him, and fuck, Ian doesn’t fight anymore—swore to his court-ordered therapist he was done with that shit—but this asshole just might get him back in the ring. His hands itch as he passes, clenching and un-clenching as his jaw clicks.

Mickey avoids his gaze, which pisses him off even further.

Ian forces himself onto the shop floor, closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, Mickey joins him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Ian scans him for signs of a struggle, but he looks good. Great, even, his cheeks pinked. “You?”

“Course. Forget that dick. Caved quick and left. It’s a fuckin’ shipping issue, ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

Ian nods, unsure what to do or how to proceed. After a beat, he mutters a weak thanks.

Fuck, it’s awkward.

Then,

“Didn’t know—”

“Listen, man, I—”

They both stop talking, laughing nervously, the tension breaking just enough for some of their natural chemistry to seep back into the situation. Ian’s hands now itch with a wholly new desire to touch and caress instead of maim.

“I coulda handled him, you know,” Ian mutters.

Mickey chuckles. “Don’t doubt that for a second. Thought you were gonna fuckin’ deck that dude.”

“I was—I would have…” Ian shrugs. “But if I went back to prison, we couldn’t finish what we started the other night.”

And well, that gets Mickey’s attention.

“Guess that makes me a hero or somethin’ then, huh?” His voice is like gravel as he steps into Ian’s space.

Ian stares at his mouth. “Or something.”

“Tell ya what…” Mickey stares back. “He comes back, we’ll kick his ass together. Can pin it on me if the pigs show up.”

“Promise?”

Mickey answers with his lips, his teeth, and his sinful fucking tongue.

By the time they leave for the night, their knees have matching bruises.

[burninface]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

Thank you @jrooc (thx for the game!) @michellemisfit @doshiart @mybrainismelted @gallapiech @sgtmickeyslaughter @spookygingerr @mmmichyyy @lingy910y @pookiebearmick for tagging me! love yall<3

Name and AO3 handle: Face, Burningface

Current Location: in the kitchen heating food before I die starving

Favorite picrew (don’t have one? you can skip this or do this one)? This one and I just did @doshiart 's picrew it soon became my favourite ones!

What’s one thing you want in a picrew? knotted hair (and mole that can be moved anywhere)

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? I'm gonna borrow Cam's word here: my favorite one is the one I haven't done (always the next one)

ok for the next 2 questions, maybe Mickey The Thug Goose

Why is it your favourite? honk honk hoonk *speaking in goose language*

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? the idea came easily but thinking about how to present it was hard. but thankfully I don't need to decide art style on this one, I just mimicked the style of original game

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Spare Parts by @depressedstressedlemonzest

confession time…… unlike on tumblr, after reading a fic (or a chapter) on ao3, I usually wrote down my feelings and thoughts in my language and kept them in a file(sometimes in bookmark), and thought "one day I'll find time translate this and send it out"……and that day never came. I tried once or twice but… translating is nothing like speaking directly in English and translator only gives me weird results, so I quitted like a loser. then the unsent comments just accumulated day by day. I know these are just my excuses and this question is maybe my turning point, now it's a good time to start the project. and by the time I post this I've already put it on my schedule🗓️

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? there were a lot but time healed all my WIP heartaches eventually... or I just lied to me that I forgot

Favorite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? enemies to lovers. fwb to lovers. EMT! Ian, I'm a big sucker for Ian doing any health-related job, EMT, paramedic, PT/OT/ST/AT, doctor, nurse… even vet

Least favourite? I'm not a fan of Alpha! Ian/Omega! Mickey, erm… just, they don't feel like A/O couple to me. also maybe mpreg

Secret or surprising kink or trope? I'm NOT telling the secret kinks but for surprising part: I kinda love canon that Mickey met Ian while he's on mania/hypomania episode, or Ian had already been diagnosed then he fell in love with Mickey and he was confused if all the crazy feelings had smth to do with his bd (saying this makes me feel like an asshole🥲)

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? …unfinished, incomplete, unsure, then I encourage myself to post it cause I know it's now or never. after posting it becomes to a little proud of myself, and urge to practice more for the next one

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: I made this man up for myself in head for years. but they're created based on the kindness I've received recent, so I guess it's actually all of you guys:)

It’s been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? read fics, eat chocolates, daydreaming about AUs in my head

I'm a little late this week and my blood sugar's too low for thinking now so no tagging this time. but I'm sending invitations to all of you! if you're interested just go ahead :)

[ethunreal]

first date kisses. ⊹ dagger squad (top gun maverick)

including: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, jake ‘hangman’ seresin, robert ‘bob’ floyd, mickey ‘fanboy’ garcia, natasha ‘phoenix’ trace, reuben ‘payback’ fitch, javy ‘cayote’ machado. — drabble, fluff, warning(s): [ i do not own these characters in anyway shape, or form. please note that this is all fiction ]

— bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw: bradley had your hand interlaced with his since your date had begun barely letting go throughout, only detaching your had to help you with food or to fix a strand of hair when his other hand was occupied; but you didn’t mind even if either of your hands got clammy or sweaty neither of you let go; occasionally switching hands depending on which side he was standing beside you. now you lead him to your door step; hands still together, in a comforting grip. you talk for sometime about future plans and how well the date went. but you don’t mention how he’s been holding your hand for the majority of the day. he eventually gets quiet and you notice that he’s staring and fiddling your hand; you were about to interrupt the silence when bradley brings your hand to his lips, giving a kiss to each of your knuckles. once he’s finished he gives you a charming smile before letting you go on your way inside. not leaving til you’ve entered safely.

. . robert ‘bob’ floyd: robert was rather distant when he walked you to your doorstep, you felt rather disappointed because this was an entirely different man than the one you went on a date on, shy and cute bob who would giggle cutely when you both did something silly and would compliment you every chance he got. you thought maybe he was regretting this date but he was thinking the opposite, he loved the date, he wanted to go on more but now he’s thinking about whether it’s a good idea to kiss you on the first date, he knows that some people don’t like that and he was afraid you would be one of those people. to spare yourself the rejection your turn to open your door but bobs hand on your arm stops you. robert confesses to you wholeheartedly how much of a good time he had with you and before you can respond he kisses your nose, a puckering sound emits as he kisses you. it’s short and sweet which makes you smile and hug him to return the favor.

jake ‘hangman’ seresin: this date was made after a lot of convincing and finally you decided to give hangman a chance after his countless tries since he met you. you and jake stood outside the ice cream parlor which was the last destination of your date, if he was being completely honestly he didn’t want this date to end and you could share the same thought, he had honestly blew your expectations— you had thought you just sit in a both dying of boredom as jake went on and on about himself; but to your surprise he was so sweet and gentle— a total opposite to how you see him at the hard deck. this date was probably the best one you’ve ever experienced so it became even better when jake had leaned in and kisses the corner of your lips, both hands interlocked with each other. you look at him with wide eyes as he says “sorry i wanted to taste the strawberry ice cream you got...”

natasha ‘phoenix’ trace: natasha had you enamored since the first time she met you— she was flirty, sweet and respectful, never crossing the line when she talked to you. so you didn’t expect anything less for your first date with her. she had walked you to your car since you both came separately, though you insisted that it was unnecessary that she walk you to your car, she was very adamant; stating that she didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. emphasizing how she wouldn’t know how to deal with herself if she let anything happen— you rolled your eyes playfully but your heart swelled at her comment. your farewells were kept short since the date ended pretty late at night but you think the best part of the date was when she pulled you into a warm embrace and kissed your temple, wishing you a safe drive home and to text her when you get there.

. mickey ‘fanboy’ garcia: he was rather nervous before the kiss; mickey wasnt the type to kiss on the first date but after what he experienced and the things he felt, he just had to do it. the whole date you’ve given him butterflies and warm feeling in his stomach more than he can recount. so doing such an intimate act on your first date was nerve racking, his hands are stuffed in his pockets when he walks beside you to your door. when you face him butterflies erupt in his stomach, you give him a smile and he returns it graciously. you begin talking about your date and gradually as the conversation he gains confidence and ends the conversation with a gentle kiss on your forehead his hands cupping your face securely, both of you are scarlet red when you part ways.

. . . rueben ‘payback’ fitch: rueben wasn’t able to walk you inside. it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to, it was the exact opposite; your roommates would be nosy and try to watch how this date would end so instead he gave you his farewells in his car. it was a lovely date, he had taken you to a beautiful restaurant by the beach as a little reference to where you first met— the faithful day where the football he threw had accidentally hit you in the head. you remember it clearly as he profusely apologized, insisting he make it up to you. so with a smirk you had suggested at date. which brings you to the end of the night; one of the best nights you’ve has since moving to fighter town. you both couldn’t admit that but you were admittedly shy to initiate anything but with a last minute thought rueben caught your wrist before you exited his car and gave you a nice peck on the apple of your cheek whispering a goodnight before letting you go, a dust of pink on your cheeks as you walk inside. the last thing you hear is his car take off after you close the front door before your roommates begin bombarding you with questions.

— - javy ‘cayote’ machado: javy had walked you to your doorstep like a true gentlemen does, you had a wonderful time at the hard deck, it wasn’t the most ideal first date but due to both of your busy schedules, you both had settled in just meeting somewhere locally— but it didn’t make it any less magical. you usually saw javy attached to the hip with hangman so you had thought their personalities were pretty similar. turns out under that rough exterior was a sweet and dorky guy who charmed his way into your heart. you chatted for a little bit about how well the date went and how you both hoped you go on another one soon. he ended the chat with asking you if he could kiss you and to his elation you accepted which lead him to give you a gentle kiss on your lips before leaning back to look at your reaction. but in the moment you both knew you wanted more so he gave you to more pecks before sending you on your way inside your apartment.

written by ethrunreal. please do not repost or translate !! please let me know if you enjoyed !

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄, chapter one WEASLEY VS SLUGHORN

pairing: percy weasley x fem!oc (olympia slughorn)

word count: 1.04k

warnings: none

series masterlist

percy weasley strived for validation of the academic kind, wanted to set himself apart from his ragtag group composed of five brothers and one sister that was designated to him at birth. he had no choice, each one of his siblings had something about them that set them apart from the rest.

ginny's was obvious since she was the only girl and the youngest, ron was somewhat friendly towards the muggle children who wandered into the fields surrounding the burrow every so often, which put him into his father's good books for learning about the 'fascinating' way that they live. fred and george had each other, like they were two peas unable to be prised out of their pod. charlie was sporty and had offers to go professional with his quidditch playing but turned it down for an even more rugged job handling dragons in eastern europe, bill was devil-may-care and living it large in an entirely different continent and was breaking curses in the last year of you-know-who's power.

everything that he, percy, was not.

where they were cool he was awkward, where they were popular he sunk into the shadows, and where they were doted upon he was given a book and a drink to keep quiet.

merlin, even ron seemed to be more favoured than him, and he was starting his first ever year of hogwarts with twin brothers who took the mickey out of him ( fred and george ), an even older brother who tried do disassociate himself from lower year riff-raff ( percy ), a legacy left behind by brothers who'd graduated to become great things, and no possessions that were originally his own.

the only things he had in his trunk that hadn't been passed down from brother to brother was his collection of homemade knitted jumpers, the pile of corned beef sandwiches he gagged simply at the sight of and the writing set he'd been given on his eleventh birthday by their great aunt tessie.

but, where percy lacked a brain of street smart tips and popular wizard culture, he made up for in ingenuity and drive to over achieve even if he fizzled out before his newt exams in three years time. and yet, percy still wasn't doing anything original or generically 'him' he realised when his prefects badge had landed in his bowl of porridge at the breakfast table one morning - bill had already been a prefect and then gone on to be head boy, charlie had smashed it out the park with his outstanding newt results too.

so he worked day and night, stalked the garden for muggle fireflies he could keep in a jar on his desk to observe for his summer task from the muggle studies teacher, poured himself over text book upon text book, any reading material he could get his hands on to put him in good standing for his owl year starting in september. percy snatched coloured pencils from ginny's desk draw when she was helping ron fling disorientated gnomes over the garden hedge to draw himself up a revision timetable, scheduled to start the first day back after the welcome feast.

he was going to pass his exams with flying colours, attend every single optional class and wrangle help out of his teachers if it was the last thing he did. even getting over himself to ask one of the students in the year above who was taking newt level potions to boost his grade up from an 'e' to a 'o'.

anything to see the look on olympia slughorn's face when the name 'percy weasley' was printed above hers in the top slot when the student rankings in each class was posted anonymously at the end of each month, like they had been since before his parents could remember.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

olympia slughorn was in a deeply committed one sided relationship with percy weasley - she hated him more than anything in the world and she wouldn't trust him as a confidante as far as she could launch him with a beaters bat. it wouldn't be too great of a distance compared to those who were on the slytherin quidditch team could hit, but she still had a good shot and that was enough for her.

he poked his nose into business it didn't belong, tried too hard to cosy up to his teachers by snitching on members of his class if a piece of homework was overdue, and constantly tried to ask her overly complex questions about origins of ingredients for her potions in effort to throw her off. it never worked, though. olympia had prevailed at the top of only one class in her entire four years at hogwarts thus far, and that was potions.

it ran though her blood, it was the one thing the slughorn's had in their legacy apart from her great uncle horace's self titled 'slug club' from his teaching days at hogwarts. he'd retired the year olympia was due to start attending the magical boarding school but still sent her various potion ingredients and recipes to create during the term time.

potions was the only subject she was predicted an 'o' in.

potions was the only thing she wanted to continue doing for the rest of her life.

there was no other option. percy weasley had to learn his place in the pecking order, and olympia knew just the way to ensure it.

she holed herself up in the small library room of the slughorn estate, significantly smaller in size compared to the lestrange manor that was dissed and had fallen into disrepair and the malfoy manor guarded with towering iron gates and white peacocks. there was seven floor to ceiling book cases in the library dedicated to potions, ingredients, poignant moments in wizarding history that advanced the world of potions, magical creatures host to rare ingredients that cost an arm and a leg to purchase.

olympia prized her validation just above thwarting anyone that was standing in her way, deliberate or not. she would snap her vintage muggle 'the beatles' records over the stone gargoyles over the front door of the house if the student rankings were posted and the name 'olympia slughorn' was printed below 'percy weasley'.

next part here

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🪶

[sometimes-i-write-good]

¿Quieres bailar conmigo?

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x gn!pilotreader [no use of y/n]

2.6k || Fanboy comes home from leave a day early to surprise you, but you surprise him instead.

===

Genre: fluff

CW: overload of charisma

Author's Note: Fanboy is my favorite Top Gun: Maverick character and I’ve already read everything in existence about him, so I have to take matters into my own hands. || cross-posted on ao3

===

===

The first thing Mickey heard when he turned the lock to your shared apartment was a breakup song playing loudly. Punctuated by your passionate cries. In some form of a miracle, you managed to miss every note, which Fanboy took as a sign that your heart was not truly broken and José José merely possessed you with the urge to put on the performance of a lifetime.

He slipped quietly into the flat. Taking his time to unlace his shoes, set down his bag, and softly clicked the door shut behind him. You were not alerted in the slightest. Too busy in the kitchen stirring and shouting, “Qué triste luce todo sin ti. Los mares de las playas se van.”

Every other line you would spin, working your feet through a quick box step with the occasional fling of your spoon when the emotion built. “Se tiñen los colores de gris. Hoy todo es soledad.” you stepped backwards, closer and closer to Mickey with your hips swaying in a way that made his uniform fit a bit too tight.

“Media naranja…” he let his voice trail off, soft enough for you to hear him. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the moment with a spike of adrenaline. He’d tried his best, but he never was good at subtlety when it came to you.

“Holy fuck!” You let out a startled scream, hand coming up to clutch at your heaving chest. “Mickey, I thought I asked you to stop doing that.”

“Aw, mi vida,” he laughed, stepping closer to grab you by the hips and pull you close to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You stick your bottom lip out at him in a pout. Far enough out that he can’t help the way his gaze lingers on it. “Don’t think you can kiss it better,” you tell him.

Fanboy hums. He brings a hand up to trail the back of his index finger down your cheek so that he can tilt your chin up a bit further. “Can’t I?” It’s fun to watch your reaction to the question, feeling the slightest strain against his fingers and you try to move closer to kiss him.

“Mickey,” you whine.

He closes the gap between you. “Mi cielo.” His voice is low, raspy. All his attempted teasing seems to take more out of him than you and he’d been away for far too long to let his moment draw out any longer. Fanboy cupped your cheek then pressed his lips against yours, filling in all the passion he’d left you without while he was away.

The last kiss he gave you before he’d left was quick. A domestic kind of peck married couples gave one another as they ran out the door for work. In a way, Mickey had convinced himself on the plane to Virginia Beach, that is exactly who the two of you were. You’d been together so long that being moved around from base to base wasn’t the heartbreaking news that it had once been but rather a fact of life the two of you had to live with. Still, it didn’t excuse the way Fanboy had let his own being late impact the last memory of him you were left with before he’d walked out the door. It was something he fully planned to make up for today.

His tongue ran over your bottom lip greedily. Mickey could, and had, memorized every corner of your mouth and it would never be enough to truly satiate him. The moment your lips parted for him Fanboy jumped on the opportunity to run his tongue along the side of yours. He moved with a confidence you had only ever been able to bring out of him.

You hum in satisfaction, fingers going to hook in the belt loops of his uniform. Sure of yourself. A goddess in control of his futile sense of humanity. Freedom and a prison all in one. There could be worse fates than being locked onto your lips for all eternity. Some Fanboy didn’t care enough to explore. Not when he had your body pressed against him and his lips bruised by the shape of yours.

“Mi cielo.” Mickey murmurs against your lips when he goes to take a breath. A kiss pressed to each of the corners of your mouth. “You have no clue what you do to me.” And then, as though you knew full well what you did to him, you slid your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to your lips once again.

You’re the one to pull away after a few more blissful moments of kissing. Mickey expected you to be. Yet he still had to take a moment, pressing his forehead to yours, hand cupped around your cheek, with his eyes closed. If he had the choice, the two of you would be in the bedroom right now but you had been in the middle of cooking, and he was hard pressed to pull you away from a task once you’d begun. “I love you.”

Mickey doesn’t need to open his eyes to know there was a goofy grin on your face. “I love you more, darling.” The words brought a heat up the back of his neck, settling on his ears. Years into this relationship and you still could fluster him. Mickey opened his eyes, pressed one more swift kiss to your lips, then leaned back to look at you.

For a moment it felt like the two of you were plunged back into the moment of your first kiss. Two kids in love staring at one another with smiles of disbelief. Fanboy knew a part of him would always be stuck in that feeling whenever the two of you kissed. There was no conceivable explanation for how he got so lucky to be able to kiss you whenever he pleased. To be able to call you his everything.

“Mi vida, when I came in… is that really how you’d react in the case of an intruder?” He asked quietly in a poor attempt to cover a soft laugh. “Scream your head off first, figure out a way to fight later?”

You roll your eyes at him and, even in your moments of playful aggravation, Mickey can’t help the way his pulse quickens. He uses his thumb to trace hearts on your waist. A way

“I’m a pilot, mi sol. There’s a reason I do all my fighting in the air.”

“I can teach you to fight.” When you laugh, he pulls you tight to him. “I’m serious. It’s easy, mi vida, a lot like dancing.”

“I’m a horrid dancer,” you tell him. Mickey shakes his head. You have the tendency to be overtly hard on yourself, but he’d seen you when he had walked through that door. Stunning, if a little out of practice. He knew that if he were to tell you that you’d only dismiss the idea entirely claiming that he thought everything you did was stunning and, while you wouldn’t exactly be wrong, he didn’t want you to shy away from his next offer, “Dance with me?”

“Right now? I’ve got dinner on the stove.”

In a swift series of steps, Mickey had you clinging onto him so that he could position the pair of you right in front of the stove. He turned off the stove with a self-satisfied smile. For every excuse you’d planned to make, Mickey had already compiled a thousand reasons why not to worry. It’s how the two of you had always been. Fanboy had lived up to his callsign in more ways than one. He followed you everywhere fixing one problem or the next, easing your fears without you having to so much as ask. A love language, people would call it, but Mickey must have been the only person on earth who could speak it.

“You’re insufferable.” Your words make him grin. The radio starts up with a new song. “Tú” by Los Elegantes de Jerez, one of his favorites to request at the Hard Deck when Penny had live bands instead of just letting the jukebox play the same music over and over each night. He’d yet to convince you to come out and dance with him, but Phoenix was always willing. Otherwise he was more than content to dance on his own, throwing out flirtatious remarks to try and persuade you to join him.

He steps back just enough to take you all in. You let out a confused laugh.  “What?”

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo?”

“Mickey…”

“¿Quieres bailar conmigo, mi cielo?” He asks again with a bit more seriousness behind it and, when you don’t jump on the opportunity he adds, “Cocodrilo que duerme es cartera.”

“Fine, Mick. I’ll dance with-” You’re cut off with a squeak as Fanboy pulls you close. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, hand resting at the small of your back, and placed his left knee so that it rested against the inside of your right knee. It isn’t nearly as close as Mickey would like to be. He longed to crack open his chest and allow you to crawl inside to take residence in his heart so that the two of you physically portrayed Fanboy’s constant state of existence.

He brought his other arm up with your hand in his and waited patiently as you wrapped your arm around his neck. “Rest your weight into your hips.” He drags his gaze over your face, watching you calculate the right way to stand. Your analytical nature made him fall in love with you. The way your tongue would drag along your lips in deep concentration. It made it hard for him to remember what the hell he was saying in the first place. “The norteño means we have to keep our torsos connected.”

You settled your weight, pressing against him, and Mickey’s breath left him in a nervous exhale. “Not so confident anymore are we, Fanboy?” You laugh, and he ducked down slightly to press a kiss to the hollow beneath your ear.

“You make me crazy,” he said and started moving without giving you a warning. If he had told you to concentrate on the tempo you were bound to overthink and start lifting your feet instead of shuffling in wide arcs wherever Mickey led you. Once he was sure you weren’t going to stop him to start counting the beats he added, “we’re going to to step and swing our hips on each beat.”

Growing up his mother used to tell him how important it was to know how to dance. That it was the easiest way to find your other half that way. A perfect complement. Each move followed his lead. Right and then left. Two halves of a whole collapsed in an embrace Mickey never wanted to free himself from.

“Tú, solamente tú,” he sang into your ear with the fondness of someone discovering affection for the first time. A soulmate connected by the chorus of a song. “No necesito de nadie. Ni puedo dejar de mirarte.” You pressed against him, biting down roughly on your lip, and he could see the tender concentration as you counted in your head. “Hey,” he said, “eyes on me.”

Only, when you lifted your gaze to him, Mickey captured your lips in a tender kiss not once breaking step. These movements were second nature. Natural as ducking and dodging during a dogfight. He knew exactly where to let his smooth movements whirl him next. If he weren’t feeling so selfish, he might have included a spin just to hear your laughter. A sound as weightless as the way you moved against him. Mickey did not miss the way you playfully ground against him with each sway of your hips. The innocent confusion on your face while you watched his breath hitch. His hand stayed pressed to the small of your back. Drew you closer on each beat. Your hand on the base of his neck twirled the hair that needed to be cut before he went back. The gesture made him weak in the knees.

The song had finished minutes ago, but the two of you were still moving. He had been caught in the trance of your everything. Your smile, pulled back with mischievous joy; your eyes, how they lingered on his lips as he sang along; and your hands, how they clung to him even though he had no plans on letting you stray away from him during your dance.

He wanted to twirl the two of you out of this apartment. Take you to the Hard Deck. He wanted to call everyone on the Dagger Crew to the bar. Hell, he’d call anyone in off the streets to watch the two of you dance. Show everyone that you were his. Only he could draw this dreamy smile out of you. Only he could pull you out of your own head. Only he could love you like this.

You leaned forward to kiss him. “Thanks, darling. Can I finish dinner?” He relented. You, with great difficulty, managed to take a step back. Only to come back and kiss him with a ferocity that parted his lips almost immediately.

A different kind of dance began. Your tongue in his mouth, searching desperately for the words he had sung earlier. All you could pull out of him were gentle groans of pleasure. Mickey’s hands gripped at your waist. You were entirely in control. Each step forward led him backwards until he was pressed up against the counter.

Abandoning your hips, Fanboy moved his hands up to your hair. He had always learned in moments like this to let you believe that you could bring him to his knees. That thought might hold more truth to it that he cared to admit. But he could always slide his hands down to cup your face. Your weakness. He would tilt your head slightly, allowing him more room to slip his tongue into your mouth, and expose your neck enough for him to trail kisses downwards. So that when he did get onto his knees for you it was entirely of his own violation.

You noticed the change. You noticed everything when you cared to. “Mickey.” Your voice was muffled by his tongue tracing the shape of your bottom lip. “Mickey.” Once more he captured his own name and you had to pull away to say, “I have to make dinner.”

He sighed. “Do you?”

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

With one final peck he watched as you made your way back over to the stove. “I’ll have to make something more. I wasn’t expecting you today.”

There was no hint of annoyance in your voice. Fanboy could see you bite back a smile. He longed to turn you around to kiss you, but instead let you turn on the gas and stir the soup you’d been making humming José José.

“You do realize ‘El Triste’ is a breakup song, mi amor?” Mickey said, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you flush against him as you stirred the soup on the stove.

“When you’re gone I like to pretend I’m heartbroken.”

“And when I’m home?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “What do you like to pretend when I’m holding you like this?”

He could feel the sigh work its way out of your chest. You flicked off the gas once more. “I like to pretend that we’ll get a chance to eat dinner, but…”

Mickey laughed. “But?”

“But,” you said, “I think we’re ordering in tonight.”

“Are we now?” You spin around to wrap your arms around his neck, grinding up against him, and pulling away with a smug smile. “Oh, mi ciela, vamos a bailar.”

[albonodiaz]

Top gun a hunger games au

The day had finally come. The day everyone dreaded. The day everyone wished was like February 29 and would only come around every four years. Because every year it seemed to come quicker than the last. Every year there would be more names in the ballot. Bradley knocked on the door he knew all too well just like he did any other day of the year, except today was the day he hated knocking on this door even more than every other time he’d had to knock on the door this time because this time 3 of them were in the bowl. Bradley knew this day would come. Bradley knew there was going to be a day where his best friend's little brother was going to have to go into the draw for the games as well. 

The door opened suddenly. Bradley was met with a frazzled Natasha who was normally well put together, especially during the reaping. She was wearing a knee length baby blue dress, her hair in one singular braid and she has black mary janes with frilly socks. She looked the exact same every reaping, except this time something was off, you could see it in her eyes. Bradley was in his best white shirt and dark brown trousers which were his dad’s. Every year he was sent a different outfit by his so-called uncle, every year he didn't wear it, and his dads trousers started to get shorter. Natasha surveyed him, studying him from head to toe looking for something to be out of place. 

‘You need new trousers’ she said out of breath 

‘Yeah well I can’t afford them right now’ Bradley replies sharply 

Natasha scoffs ‘We both know that's not true.’ 

“Yeah well would you wear the trousers from the person that abandoned you when your dad died. He didn't even show up for his funeral Nat, he was his best friend and he didn't even show up to his funeral, what kind of friend is that’

‘I think he's a man who was taken for capitols gains just like every other victor. I think we both know he tried to get home for that funeral.’

‘WELL HE SHOULD'VE TRIED HARDER’ Bradley was met with silence. They shouldn't be doing it. Especially not today. 

‘NAT. NAT WHERE ARE YOU.’ The shouts came from inside the house ‘NAT I NEED HELP WITH MY TIE’ the shouts came from a voice Bradley knew, the voice of the boy who was the closest thing Bradley himself had to a brother. Nat’s eyes clouded over. She swallowed hard. 

‘I'M DOWN HERE’ She replied

Just like that a boy almost as tall as Nat appeared beside her. 

‘Now let's tie that tie shall we?’ She said with a fake smile plastered on her face. 

Bradey looked down at his watch, he needed to go, he looked up at Nat she knew it too. 

‘Hey Mickey you wanna walk with me to the reaping?’ Bradley said, his voice scarily calm. 

‘Yeah save Nat and mum worrying about me. Come on, you guys have made it this far without being reaped next year is your last year. I don't know why you're so worried.’ Mickey said 

Neither Nat nor Bradley looked at each other. Bradley checked his watch again. He needed to go. 

‘Mickey go inside and say goodbye to mum’ Nat said with a firm voice. And with that Mickey left.

‘How many times?’ She asked face cold 

‘I don't know i stopped counting about six months ago’ Bradley said 

Nat pushed him back. Bradley stumbled backwards not expecting the sudden impact. He failed to regain his balance and fell on the hard gravel, cutting open the palms of his hands as a consequence. Blood dripped down his wrist, Bradley held out his hands in front of him, careful not to stain his shirt or trousers. 

‘YOU JUST STOPPED COUNTING, DO YOU KNOW HOW STUPID YOU HAVE TO BE TO JUST STOP COUNTING. YOU IDIOT. I CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT YOU. I DONT EVEN WANT TO SEND MICKEY WITH YOU NOW BECAUSE I CANNOT TRUST AN IDIOT WHO JUST ‘stops counting’ BUT I'LL HAVE TO SEND HIM WITH YOU BECAUSE IM NOT HAVING THAT BOY BE ALONE FOR HIS FIRST REAPING EVEN IF IT MEANS HE HAS TO WATCH YOU GO UP.’ By the time shed finished she was out of breath and Mickey had just arrived back at the door. 

He turned to Nat to give her a hug she squeezed him so tight Bradley thought she was going to suffocate him, that would probably be easier for him. Bradley and Mickey headed along in silence, neither of them dare saying something in fear that it might jinx or trigger something so that they’ll be chosen. Once they arrived Bradley explained how they would need to take blood as a form of identification and from there they will most likely be separated as Bradley was older than him. Bradley stood and watched as Mickey was swept off towards the front with all the other boys his age and sighed. He hadn’t been old enough to remember Petes name or ‘Maverick’ since that's what everyone calls him now, so he'd never actually known what it's like to watch someone close to him fight for his life against 23 other children. Sure he’d seen a few acquaintances die but that came with the territory of talking to people. 

The announcer had come up in his eccentric outfits like he always did every year without fail. He looked so out of place here with his big flamboyant style. This year he was wearing bright blue eye shadow which complimented his dark skin, his face was old but his eyes weren’t which one quite a contrast. Bradley knew he was the one who picked his dads name out of the ballot; he was the one who watched his Pete volunteer instead; there hadn't been anyone stupid enough to volunteer since. Warlock, Bradley thinks the announcers name was, was wearing a bright blue peacock tail which matched the blue eyeshadow, his jacket was a darker shade of blue and it looked like he had a chainmail tank top on exposing his bare chest to the world, his trousers were a light pink which through the outfit off but also somehow tied the outfit together. Bradley thought he looked stupid. But he could see people admiring him adoringly and some people gazing at his fear written all over them. As Warlock was the man who came every year to write someone's death sentence. 

"Good morning everyone, so glad I could be here today on this very special occasion. " The man smiled and the crowd was silent as if the whole sea of people were scared to move. ‘I am sure you know why we are gathered here today. So without further ado’ The man reached his hands into the bowl and moved the names round a few times. It seemed as if time stopped and the world held their breath. Warlock had picked a name and was taking his time unfolding it. He cleared his throat in preparation of reading the name, Bradley was ready to breathe again but didnt in fear of something going on so he held his breath. 

‘Natasha Trace.’ Warlock read

Bradleys world froze; this cannot be happening. He cannot lose her, not when she is the only family he has. This isn't fair he's not going to let her be stripped from him too. But that's when he realised he was completely powerless. He cant volunteer for her shes a girl and he's a boy it doesn't work like that rules are rules. Suddenly Bradley felt the space around him getting smaller, he was running pushing people over trying to get to the peace keepers taking Nat up to the stage where she would be put on display like some sort of animal that isn't right. He ran into something hard, falling to the ground, reopening his cut which had just stopped bleeding. He was hauled up to his feet by a figure dressed in all white, a peace keeper, that's when he saw him. That's when he saw Mickey looking as white as a ghost, petrified. In all the commission he hadn't realised they called for the male tribute. 

‘Mickey Garcia’ Warlock said a second time. 

Bradleys ears started to ring. The sea of people around MIckey suddenly parted. Mickey looked down, keeping his head down as he walked. That's when Bradley knew what he had to do. Still wrestling with the peacekeeper who’s grip had tightened on his arm he said it. 

‘I volunteer.’ it wasn't loud enough no one had heard him Mickey was approaching the stairs he needed to stop it. 

‘I VOLUNTEER.’ The world stopped, everyone sucked in a breath. Mickey turned around giving Bradley a desperate look. 

‘I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE’ His voice was strong and authoritative he saw Mickey shaking his head. Before Bradley had realised he'd wrestled out of the peacekeepers grip and ran straight for Mickey squeezing him tight. 

‘Your mums not losing two kids not on my watch. She's going to come home I promise. I’ll make sure of it.’ he said into Mickey's ear before he was ripped away from him and thrown onto the stage. Stumbling to get up he looked down and he was covered in blood. He’d ruined his dads trousers. It didn't matter that they were too short for him or too tight around his waist, all these years Bradley thought these clothes had protected him and had stopped him from being reaped but now look at him as a volunteer on display for the pleasure of the capitol. This is what Maverick would have felt like he thought as he turned and met Nats eyes for the first time since he did what he did. She was horrified and yet she still mouthed thank you from across the stage. Bradley knew at that moment he wasn’t coming back from this it wasn't possible he had to save his best friend. 

"A Volunteer such a beautiful thing, hadn’t had one of them since Pete Mitchell, now boy, tell us your name.’ Warlock said airly

‘Bradley Bradshaw’ he muttered

‘Sorry boy your going to have too speak up’ 

‘Bradley Bradshaw’ He said gaining confidence that he clearly needed. 

The colour from Warlock's face drained as if Bradley wasn't supposed to be here as if Bradley wasn't allowed to be here. 

‘And you volunteered for Mickey Garcia?’ 

‘He's the closest thing I have to a brother…, Sir’ Bradley replied stronger than before. 

The rest of the show seemed to be over before it had even started Bradley was dragged off the stage and thrown into a small room. This is normally where he would have family visits but he had none so he just had to sit and wait for what's next. Bradley heard frantic voices outside getting closer and closer to the door. 

‘Sir you can’t be here’ said a low voice

‘I need to see him, I need to see its actually him and someone hasnt just made the biggest fuck up since the hunger games even began’ Said another

‘Sir I sa-’ 

‘I KNOW WHAT YOU FUCKING SAID OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR ILL SHOW YOU JUST HOW I WON MY GAMES NOW MOVE’

The door opened and before Bradley could register who it was he was met with pain which spread across the right side of his face. He kept his head down, questioning who would come in just to slap him, he had no family, it isn't Nat because she’ll be with her family. Bradley had no choice but to look up. His eyes had met the eyes of a man he hadn’t even met before but recognised instantly. 

Maverick. 

The man who was supposed to be his dads best friend. The man who left him to go chasing his fam in the capitol subsequently missing his fathers funeral, so much of a best friend. 

‘What. Are . You. Doing . Here?’ Maverick asked the question slowly and calculated. 

Bradley didn't answer him.

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE’ Maverick demanded desperately

‘I don’t have to answer to you’ Bradley responded 

And with that he left as quickly as he came. The next thing Bradley knew is that he was being shipped off to the capitol. Bradley kept to his room until Warlock came and told him he had to come to the living area. 

Maverick was staring at him. Bradley staring back at the two locked in eye contact. 

‘So what's the game plan’ it was Nat trying to break the silence and whatever was going on between Maverick and Bradley. 

‘You don't have one,’ Maverick replied firmly.

‘I don’t care what unfinished business you have but I’d quite like to make it back to my brother so if you don't mind telling me. What is the game plan?’ Her voice was calm and calculated as if she had predicted this would happen the moment Bradley walked up onto that stage. 

‘You need to show the Capitol your desirable first, get them rooting for you. We have a stylist which you'll be meeting as soon as we get to the capitol. They will be able to carve out what type of character you want to be. Then you have the training, do either of you have any strong suits or talents’ Maverick said not taking his eyes of Bradley 

‘I can carve things about it.’ Nat said sure of herself 

‘We can work with that. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go to my room’ Maverick said and with that he was gone. 

‘You need to pull yourself together or you're dead before you even step foot in that arena’ Nat said, giving Bradley a look which meant she wasn't messing about. She was in survival mode now and he should be too. 

Bradley got up and walked back to his room. Warlock watched him studying him carefully as if he was making a report to take back to Maverick. 

On his way back to his room Bradley passed Maverick’s room. He walked past quickly but as soon as he passed it he stopped and took steps back to look in the room. He stopped and turned towards the door. Looking through the glass Bradley could see that the room was trashed. Maverick was sitting on the sofa head in his hands rocking back and forth. Bradley was frozen; he couldn't move; he'd never had someone this distressed except for his mum when his dad died. She died shortly after for some unforeseen reason. Bradley knew it was suicide. She killed herself. She went crazy and griefed that person. Bradley doesn't blame her, she was stronger than him, he just wished she had someone. Then Bradley realised Maverick was her other person. The way his dad and mum would both talk about him. He was their missing piece. Bradley did not soften. Hatred for Maverick still coursing through his veins. But if he wanted to survive he would have to speak to Maverick. This was it, this was his survival mode.

Bradley sucked in a breath. He opened the door. 

‘Go away Solomon’ Maverick said sharply. 

‘It’s not Solomon. Its Bradley’ he replied 

‘Oh… Sorry about the mess… and your mother, she was good, better than me, just like your dad. They were both too good. Too good for me. You look just like your dad. I’m sure you get that alot.’ Maverick started

‘No one tells me that actually. I guessed no one knew him that much to notice our resemblance.’ every minute in this room was torture for Bradley. His blood grew hotter and hotter every second he stayed and yet he couldn't step out. He slowly stepped towards Maverick. 

‘You’re bleeding’ Bradley stated coldly. 

Maverick looked up ‘and so are you’ he replied. 

‘Its stopped when I got on the train’ Bradley wasn't connected to the conversation. He came in for answers and strategy. This was his survival mode, he was surviving.

‘Are those your dads clothes?’ Maverick asked 

Bradley stiffened ‘Yes’

‘Did you not get the outfits I sent you?’ Maverick asked, trying to mask his hurt, although he expected him not to wear the clothes. 

‘I did’ Bradley replied. 

The reply felt like a spear had gone through his chest. Maverick shouldn't have asked. Then again there were a lot of things Maverick should’ve done but didn't. Well couldn’t the Capitol wouldn't let him. Bradley didn’t know that. He would probably soon find out though, nothing is discreet about the capitol. Before Maverick could do anything Bradley was holding a cloth to his arm, the cloth slowly turned red. The cut was deeper than he initially thought, in reality he didn't realise he was cut until Bradley pointed it out cause he can't feel anything any more, just another blessing the hunger games provide you with.

Bradley couldn’t believe what he was doing. Holding a cloth to the wound of a am that had abandoned him all those years ago. Before he could think about it for too long Maverick pushed him back. 

‘What was that for?’ Bradley asked alarmed 

Mavericks eyes had darkened, Bradley realised he wasn’t looking at Pete anymore he was looking at Maverick, the same Maverick that had won the hunger games, the same Maverick that had slapped him earlier. 

‘YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE KID. I TRIED EVERYTHING. I GAVE EVERYTHING FOR YOU TOO NOT BE IN THE GAMES. I TRIED TO GET BACK FOR THE FUNERAL FOR YOUR MUM BUT THEY WOULDN’T LET ME GO, THEY SEDATED ME SO I COULDN'T LEAVE. I HAD A JOB THE NEXT DAY THAT I JUST ‘COULDN'T MISS’ ACCORDING TO THEM. SO I MADE A DEAL. I MADE SO MUCH OF A FUSS THAT THEY TOOK ME TO THE PRESIDENT. I ASKED HIM TO GO HE SAID NO I ASKED AGAIN HE SAID NO’ Bradley could see Maverick slowly reaching for a knife on a table, one of the few things that hadn’t been knocked over. Bradley was paralysed and he couldn't move. ‘I THEN ASKED FOR YOU TOO HAVE IMMUNITY FROM THE GAMES SOMETHING THEY HAVE NEVER DONE BEFORE. BUT I HAD ALREADY KILLED 3 OF THEIR MEN IN MY ATTEMPT TO LEAVE AND APPARENTLY I'M TOO VALUABLE TO PUT DOWN SO THEY AGREED. AND I HAD TO PROMISE TO NEVER VISIT YOU OR LEAVE THE CAPITOL. I BECAME A SLAVE TO THE CAPITOL. SO  EVERYTIME YOUR NAME WAS SUPPOSEDLY ENTERED INTO THE BALLOT IT WAS DESTROYED. SO IMAGINE HOW I FEEL WHEN I FIND OUT THE BOY THAT I GAVE EVERYTHING FOR VOLUNTEERED.’ Bradley wanted to be sick. All this information was too much to process. Clearly his survival mode wasn’t good enough. His fight or flight was tested and clearly his answer was flight. Bradley looked around the room for anything that could help him but there was nothing within reach. Maverick was walking towards him with a knife poised in his hands ready to attack. Bradleys breath quickened; he needed to get out of here now. His whole view on Pete, had just collapsed in on itself. He needed an explanation and he needed it now. And clearly he wasn’t going to get it from Pete, Maverick or whatever Bradley should be calling him. Suddenly Maverick lunged at him pinning him to the wall, Bradley must've knocked something because he heard a crash before he could look down he felt something pressed against his neck. It was cold, sharp and painful. Bradley was struggling to breathe; he couldn't move from Mavericks strength. Although he was smaller than him, Pete easily overpowered him. This wasn't the Pete his parents had told him about. This wasn’t what Pete Bradley had imagined either. Bradley had imagined a stuck up victor who doesn't care about anyone, instead he was met with a man who clearly cared too much about everyone and is tortured by the happenings of his games and had no escape from it. 

Bradley could feel his consciousness slipping away from him. But if Pete wanted to kill him he would’ve done it by now. 

When he woke up there were 2 people by his bed talking. Bradley could hear it was about the games and strategies. He knew who it was and didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to pretend this isn't happening. He wanted to pretend to be back in district 12 with his mum and dad. But he couldn't pretend because pretending is what gets you killed. 

He slowly opened his eyes and the talking stopped. He was greeted with 3 concerned faces. 2 of them he recognised and one he didn’t. The 2 he knew were Nat and Pete the third was a man a bit taller then Pete with ice white hair, He was well dressed, another victor, Bradley though. He didn’t speak, he just stared at Pete, slightly worried. 

‘Aren’t you a mentor this year, Ice’ Pete said 

‘Not this year.’ The man replied who Bradley assumed was called Ice as that’s what Pete called him.

‘If they see you here they’ll kill you Tom’ Pete said worried

‘Pete I’ve been on this train the whole time, Solomon called me and said I would be needed on the train. They don’t watch me like they watch you I’m able to come and go as I please I can get on this train without them knowing i will be able to get off without them knowing as well’ Tom/Ice said, Bradley was confused about the two names but maybe ice was his nickname like Maverick was Petes, except Maverick was more of an alter ego for Pete. Maybe I should ask if Maverick wants to be called Pete or Maverick, Bradley thought. 

The hatred Bradley had for Pete had diffused into something else. Bradleys veins no longer seemed to burn when he saw Pete he no longer felt the need to hurt Pete it seemed Petes hurt himself enough already. This doesn't mean Bradley likes him. Nat could see what Bradley was thinking, she'd always been able to read him like an open book. She smiled at him, like one of those proud happy smiles. Bradley hated it. 

‘How long was I out?’ Bradley managed. 

‘2 hours we still have time to discuss tactics and what your talent will be.’ Nat said 

Bradley stood up out of bed wobbling slightly as he did. Pete rushed to stable him, but Bradley held his hand out and Pete seemed to understand. 

‘Well what are we waiting for we need to discuss tactics, but not in here because I’m hungry’ Bradley said looking at Nat and smiling.

[katkit14]

The follow-up to the last post I made that no one wanted but still got. Cause I actually made up characters for the idea. Also I am as American as a cheeseburger so if you find something you dislike or something feel free to message me and I'll fix it. I don't want to be offensive

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So we have yuu who is the twisted version of Mickey but now we have...

Minnie - Milie Magaña

Looks - black textured hair that's put up into buns, darker skin tone with round marble grey eyes. Short (5'0) and small ( petite all around )

Personality - very polite and quite, loves feminine things, is very responsible

Triva - the oldest out of 2 children but the 4th oldest cousins. Loves to crochet and knit to. Likes to garden and help around the community. Is constantly being belittled by some of her older cousins for liking fimmine things. Her father died when she was young , right after her younger sister was born.

---

Dominate hand - right

Homeland - Mexico

Hobbies - sewing and baking

Best subject at NRC - Science

Best subject before NRC - Foreign Languages

Pet peves - When someone thinks they're superior because they don't like "girly things"

Favorite food - Sopapilla Cheesecake

Least favorite food- eggplant ( it freaks her out)

Club at NRC - science club (joined to grow plants, didn't except the weirdness)

Talent - singing and gardening

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Goofy - Gabriel Garcia

Looks - black short hair, tanish skin, monolided brown eyes, tall ( 6'2) and skinny, wears glasses

Personality - Chill and is constantly cracking jokes, clumsy, and a bit dumb, you'd think he was a stoner but has never done any form of weed in his life.

Trivia - the middle child of 3 children. Has a huge appetite. Is often called lazy because despite being good at sports doesn't play them. always being belittled for his clumsyness. Loves his younger sibling and plays with them all the time. Him and his younger sibling are compared to their oldest brother a lot.

----

Dominant hand - left

Homeland - Philippines

Best subject at NRC- PE

Best Subject before NRC - PE

Hobbies- playing video games

Pet peeves - when someone compares him to his older brother

Favorite food- Sinigang

Least favorite food - doesn't have one

Talent- sports

Club at NRC- basketball ( was dragged there by ace )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Donald- Daniel Markow

Looks - short blonde hair, baby blue eyes, pale blue undertone skin, Short (5'1) and slightly chubby ( has a slight pear shape)

Personality - angry very easily, is really smart though, a bit dense since he was born with money.

Triva - the only child and will take over his fathers company. Rich boy. Mom and dad are divorced. Loves his step mom because his real mom isn't there a lot because she works as a traveling model. Dads not there a lot either. Really just his stepmom who is only 10 years older then him.

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Dominate hand - right

Homeland - Russia

Best subject at NRC - Alchemy

Best subject before NRC - English

Hobbies - reading

Favorite food - Syrniki

Least Favorite food- Baked Chicken

Pet peeves- When someone tells him to calm down ( don't talk to me I angy)

Talent - writing stories and poems along with doing nails ( him and his step mom do each others nails)

Club at nrc - horse riding club ( I forgot the official name )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy - Daniella Kilpatric

Looks - short (5'2) with a small top half and chubby bottom ( more dramatic pear shape) , pale skin, grey/blue eyes, medium blue wavy hair ( originally brown but dyed) , wears glasses.

Personality - Sassy, Smart, Sacastic, The goth chick who acts big and bad but is actually soft.

Trivia - is the you youngest out of triplets. Is the only girl. Dad is a Single dad who is pretty young. Lives on a homestead farm that makes money from selling all natural products . She feels very embrassed about her farming background and tries to cover it up. Going as far as to hide her accent ( ye-haw ) when speaking english. Tells everyone she is from California but is from the south Also has T1D and constantly makes jokes about it.

-----

Domainte hand - right

Homeland - USA

Best subject at NRC : History

Best subject before NRC : Art class

Hobbies - Listening to music and art of many sorts

Favorite food - strawberry ice cream

Least Favorite food - BBQ ribs

Pet Peeves - When people hit on her father (he prof. Crewel style pretty)

Talent - art ( drawing, and painting with acrlic paint are her strong suits ) , good with plants and animals

Club at NRC - light music club

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[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the trial date creeps closer, Bradley is having a harder time keeping himself from panicking. After you learn some interesting things about Bradley from an unlikely source, you do a little bit of digging. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You slept in until ten. You were sore. The good kind. The kind where you couldn't stop smiling. As you sat up in Bradley's bed and stretched, your eyes caught on your purple crown. There was a piece of paper hanging from it now. You reached for it and read the note he had left for you.

Princess,

I left my computer and the charger in the kitchen. I also plugged your phone in before I left. There are Skittles in the kitchen cabinet. Please text me when you get up. Noah asked if you're staying for dinner. Please stay for dinner. 

I love you.

My computer password is password1234

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Of course it is," you muttered, climbing out of bed and searching for something to wear. You made yourself some coffee with the vanilla creamer, and you spent the day filling out four job applications, eating Skittles, and attending a zoom lecture. You had done basically nothing strenuous, but by the time Bradley and Noah got back, you were yawning as you ran to see them. 

"Hello, boys," you said, kneeling to hug Noah. 

"Let's color dinosaurs," he told you, and you laughed as he led you to the table. 

"Don't I get a kiss or anything?" Bradley asked, unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

You looked at him and said, "You keep that on and I'll kiss you somewhere special later."

His hand paused on the buttons before doing them back up again. "Does that mean... you'd like me to have the uniform on later? Like after bedtime?"

You licked your lips and looked up at him, going for the most innocent look you could manage. "Please?"

Bradley grunted and kissed you a little rough. You tasted his tongue before pulling away from him. "I have dinosaurs to color," you informed him, dropping down onto the seat next to Noah. "And dinner is in the oven. I hope you like lasagna."

"You already know I'll eat anything you make," Bradley said, kissing you on the top of your head.

Noah tried to pronounce lasagna until you were barely holding in your laughter. "What's that?" he asked, handing you a pink crayon.

"It's kind of like spaghetti," you promised, coloring in a tyrannosaurus rex. "I already know you like spaghetti, so I'm just trying to expand your palate."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Can I have ants on logs?"

You knew he was going to ask, so you had already made them. When you took the container out of the refrigerator, Noah and Bradley had them polished off in a matter of minutes. "Your weekly grocery bill is probably more than mine is for the month."

"I don't doubt it, Princess," Bradley said, biting into the last carrot stick, still in that sinfully hot uniform. "Let's eat dinner, and then I'll clean up while you and Noah play."

"And then you'll take me home?" you asked cautiously looking up at him where he stood.

"Do you want me to?"

You didn't answer him. You just turned back toward the coloring book while he pulled dinner out of the oven. Did you want to leave? And go back to your tiny, lonely rental? No. You were still wearing Bradley's clothes, and you kind of wanted some more of your own stuff, but you didn't want to leave. Not really. You said nothing, and he didn't ask again. 

He did everything else to get dinner on the table. He plated the food, got drinks, and set the table. Then after everyone including Noah enjoyed the meal, he cleaned up. "You don't want help?" you asked, scooping Noah up in your arms. "Then we're going to watch some Mickey Mouse while we play with blocks."

"Sounds good," he said, putting some foil on the leftover. "Love you," he added casually as you took Noah into the other room. No, you did not want to leave.

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

Bradley was still wearing his uniform. He'd tried to change out of the shirt twice now, but both times you had stopped him. Noah was looking a little sleepy, and Bradley didn't know what you wanted to do. He wanted you to stay over again. He wanted you to stay over until he got through the court appearance on Wednesday and hopefully returned home with Noah, free and clear of Meredith. But honestly, he wanted you with him longer than that.

"Princess?" he asked softly, and you stood up from the pile of blocks that Noah was working on.

"Yes, Daddy?" you asked, standing right in front of him and smirking. If he was alone with you right now, that smirk would be gone in an instant. 

"I need an answer, Baby. You want me to drive you home before I put Noah in bed for the night?"

Your hands found his waist as you gazed up at him. "I want to stay here, but I don't want to distract you leading up to Wednesday."

"Stay," he sighed. "Stay. We can swing by your place and pick up some of your things and then come right back here, okay? Stay."

So that's exactly what the three of you did. Bradley stayed in the Bronco with Noah while you ran inside your place for a couple minutes, and you came out with your usual tote bag plus a backpack. 

"You don't mind if I keep using your computer, right?" you asked before you climbed back in the front seat.

"You can use anything at my place."

The smile you gave him in response had him thinking about asking you things he had no business asking you yet. He closed his eyes briefly before putting the Bronco in reverse and heading back to his house. When you reached for his hand in the dying light, he held yours. And when you asked to turn on the playlist you made for Noah, he fell even more in love with you. 

Noah was half asleep by the time Bradley carried him inside, and when he reemerged from his son's room, you had changed into your own clothes. Bradley kind of missed his oversized shirts on you.

"I have a fun idea, Daddy," you said, and he was practically salivating in response. "I'm going to teach you how to cook."

His brow furrowed and he gave you a look. "That doesn't sound fun at all."

Your laughter in response had him agreeing with you anyway, and you were immediately coaxing him into the kitchen. "We can use up all of your food, and tomorrow I can go grocery shopping for you if you want. I could drop you and Noah off in the morning and then use your car."

"Baby, it's not a car.... it's a Bronco. And you can use it if you promise to be very, very careful with her. You can't park next to the cart return. Actually, you can't really park by anything. No trees, no shrubs, no other cars. Nothing."

You were trying not to laugh, he could tell. "Sure, Daddy. No problem. Now let's start cooking."

He kissed you softly. "You gonna let me change out of my uniform yet?"

"Don't ask me stupid questions. Of course not. You look hot. Now go ahead and grab all of the ingredients for this recipe," you told him, handing him your phone. He sighed and skimmed a recipe for chicken stir fry.

"Princess, there's no way I'm going to be able to make this," he murmured.

"That's an order, Lieutenant Bradshaw!" you snapped, and Bradley was instantly looking at you. "Or I'll make you do fifty push ups!" 

"That's nothing, Baby. I'll do a hundred for you," he said with a smirk, but what he got in response was a slap on his ass. 

"Get to work," you told him, hopping up on the counter with a bag of Skittles and a no-nonsense look on your face.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled, reading through the recipe again.

"And that dinner better be edible, or I'm not going to suck your cock, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am." He read the recipe a third time before he got the chicken out of the refrigerator. Bradley was starting to get a little nervous about Meredith, but you were certainly helping him keep his mind off of that. He got a cutting board and a knife ready along with some vegetables. 

"Don't forget the salt," you whispered, holding out a green Skittle and popping it in his mouth. 

"Thank you," he whispered back. And you kept offering him little hints here and there. You told him he was cutting the vegetables too small, and then you fed him a purple Skittle. You told him the oil needed to be hotter, and then you fed him a yellow one. You reminded him to keep moving the food around in the pan, and then you let him take a red Skittle from between your lips with his mouth.

"You're better at cooking than you think," you told him. "Noah won't have to keep eating boxed foods."

"That's really your goal here, isn't it?" he asked you, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead with his forearm.

"Of course. I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about him," you replied with a playful eye roll. "What's he supposed to eat when I'm not around?"

"Why would you not be around?" he asked cautiously. Then his mind started swarming with thoughts of Noah living with Meredith. 

He watched you chew on a Skittle before you softly said, "I'll be around." Your eyes dipped down his chest to his pins and buttons. You looked so young and sweet, and you reached for the knob to turn the burner off. "Don't want it to burn."

Bradley nodded and got a plate down. He carefully scooped some of the hot food onto the plate and handed it to you for inspection. "Give me a fork, Lieutenant," you commanded, and Bradley grabbed one from the drawer while you blew on the food. "I just ordered you a rice cooker and an apron from Amazon. The rice cooker will make your life easier, and you'll look cute in an apron that says Hot Daddy."

Bradley laughed as you raised the fork to your lips. "Thank you, but baby, I don't want you spending your money on me. You haven't even graduated yet."

"Just pretend like you never paid me to watch Noah, okay? I don't like that you ever did."

"Okay," he whispered, placing one hand on either side of you where you sat on the kitchen counter. He watched you take a bite of the chicken, and you moaned softly. Then you tried some of the vegetables before you fed him a bite.

"It's so good. And I barely helped you at all."

Bradley was actually impressed that he'd made something that tasted that nice. "So I have no excuse now but to make Noah a homemade dinner? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," you said, smiling at him as he set the plate aside. "You know how to cook, Lieutenant. I'm so proud of you."

He leaned in and rubbed his nose against yours before kissing you. "Do you still want me to do push ups for you?"

"Kind of," you replied, kissing his mustache. "Just because it would be sexy." 

Bradley did fifty push ups while you stood in front of him and counted them off, and he looked up at your legs and your denim shorts the whole time. 

"Damn, Daddy," you groaned as he hopped up when he was done like it was nothing. "My boyfriend is so strong!" He didn't even have time to respond before you were unzipping his pants and slipping your hand inside. 

When you knelt in front of him, he said, "You weren't kidding about sucking my cock, huh?"

"Not at all," you whispered looking up at him. Your lips were glossy again. Whatever you grabbed from your house, it must have included your lip stuff. God, he loved the way you looked. He loved the way you felt. He loved your tongue, licking the bead of his precum away as you stroked him with your hands.

"You're really fucking good at this," he moaned as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently. He stroked your cheek as you took him a little deeper, swirling your tongue as he throbbed. "Goddamn it." The slow, deliberate drag of your lips along his length was enough to make him buck gently.

You moaned around him before pulling him free, and then Bradley was treated to you sucking on his balls until he was panting. "Baby," he whined, his cock resting on your face. You weren't going to let him go any faster. He couldn't decide if fast or slow was what he wanted, so he left you in charge. 

And he was not disappointed when you licked him from balls to tip and said, "I want you to cum on my face."

He ran his knuckles along your cheek and chin. "You're so gorgeous, Princess. I'd love to paint you up and make you even prettier."

"Daddy," you whined before taking him so deep he saw stars. You bobbed along his length, gagging as you tried to take all of him. Your hand was cupping his balls and your saliva was dripping onto the floor as you gagged again. You looked up at him with watery eyes, and this time when he stroked your cheek, he could feel himself.

"So good," Bradley growled. "God, you're the best."

You sucked and bobbed until he was sure he was going to lose his mind, and then he withdrew with a snap of his hips. He stroked himself twice, whispered, "I'm about to cum," and then he watched you flinch and giggle as ribbons of white landed on your cheeks and lips. His cum hit your nose, and then you opened your mouth for him.

"Fuck," he grunted, pumping every last bit onto your beautiful features, and then he was between your lips again as you licked him clean.

"Baby, don't move," he begged, scrambling to find his phone. "Will you let me take a picture?"

"Yes," you said with a laugh, licking him from your lips. "You can add it to your dirty photo album. Remember the passcode?"

"I sure do," he grunted, snapping a few pictures of you kneeling on his kitchen floor with his cum on your face. And then he was kneeling too and kissing you and telling you he loved you. 

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

You slept better in Bradley's arms than you ever did at home. He told you once you were curled up in his bed with him that he was getting nervous about the custody hearing. You tried to be encouraging. "There's no way anyone would let someone take Noah away from you. You're his only parent as far as he's concerned. He only knows love from you, Bradley."

"And you," he said softly. Warmth filled your heart as he added, "Noah knows that you love him. He lights up around you, and he's just as comfortable with you as he is with me. You're the best thing that ever happened to us."

You were supposed to be the one comforting him. But you ended up dozing off in his arms filled with hope instead. The next morning, he let you drive his Bronco "as a test" on the way to Noah's daycare. You had offered to keep Noah with you for the day instead, but Bradley insisted you spend your time finishing your school projects. 

"Okay," Bradley said as you parked in the daycare lot. "I'm fine with you driving the Bronco around. Do you remember the rules about parking lots?"

"Oh my god," you mumbled. "You're really not going to get Noah out and move along with your day until I answer correctly, are you?"

"No." His face looked serious as you laughed and promised you wouldn't park next to the cart return, another car or any sort of living plant.

"That's my Princess," he crooned, running Noah inside once you'd said goodbye to him. Then you dropped Bradley off at work, but this time, you crawled across the seat to straddle his lap for a moment.

"I love you," he whispered as you combed your fingers through his hair and kissed him. 

"I love you too, Daddy. I'll pick you up here at five," you promised, pressing your forehead to his. "And then I'll cuddle you all night, and you won't be worried about tomorrow at all. I can see on your face that you're thinking about Meredith. But think about Noah instead."

He wrapped his arms around you and sighed. "I'm always thinking about Noah. And you. And us." He kissed you one last time, and you let him climb out. "I love you, Princess."

You waved to him on the sidewalk, and then Jake joined him, and you waved to both of them. Then you stuck your head out the window and called out, "Can't wait to have you again later, Bradley! Oh, hi, Jake."

Then you started the engine again as your boyfriend laughed while Jake walked away. If you could at least make him laugh today, maybe that would make dealing with tomorrow a little easier. But it was hard not to think about what he and Noah might be up against. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it. Instead you drove to the grocery store with Bradley's credit card tucked inside your wallet.

You got all the staples, including your coffee creamer and everything you would need to make a big batch of ants on logs. Then you picked out some things you could teach Bradley how to make along with everything Noah liked. And you spent over two hundred dollars. Bradley had assured you that you could get whatever you thought they all needed and put it on his credit card. 

You were skimming the receipt as you pushed your cart to the Bronco. "Yikes," you muttered, loading bag after bag into the back, extra careful not to bump his precious vehicle with the cart. Then you closed it up and took the cart to the return. 

Just as you were digging his key out of your pocket, you looked up. You made eye contact with Meredith. She was standing there, right next to the Bronco.

"What do you want?" you asked. Your voice sounded strong, and you realized you were not even slightly intimidated by this woman when Noah wasn't with you. What could she really do to you in the middle of a parking lot at nearly ten in the morning?

She looked angry, eyeing you up and down and glancing at the Bronco. "I can't believe he lets you drive that. It's worth a fortune," she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and scowling. 

The car key was digging into your clenched fist, but you didn't close the distance to her. "Let me rephrase my question: What the fuck do you want, Meredith?"

"Such a filthy mouth on you. And you're spending time with my child," she said casually. "Lovely."

"Are you following me?"

She rolled her eyes, and you hated her so much. You supposed you could see how she was physically attractive, but you only felt the desire to kick her. 

"I'm not following you. I'm about to go grocery shopping. This is the store I always come to. But I wouldn't mind chatting a bit. I'd be more than happy to use your potty mouth and the fact that you're sleeping with Bradley against him in court."

You laughed out loud. "Well, you'd have to actually show up first. Are you going to be there tomorrow? Or run and hide at the last minute again?"

Her scowl was back. "You have a lot of questions, huh? Well, so do I. Is all that life insurance money still in an account for Noah? Or did you spread your legs open wide enough to get Bradley to pay for your little nursing degree?"

You gasped out loud. You would never do that. You loved Noah and Bradley. And now you were afraid you'd just walked into a trap. Meredith was looking at you from ten feet away like it was a showdown. One that she intended to win, because she brought the correct ammunition when you clearly had not. 

"I guess the money is still there then," she said, starting to look more satisfied. "You know he'll never commit to you, right? He was always afraid of commitment."

"Yet you're the one who abandoned her child," you said softly, but not without conviction. 

She took a step closer to you, venom in her voice. "I didn't want to be held down, but things change."

"Do you even want him? Or are you just trying to get back at Bradley?" you asked, unable to stop yourself. "Because Noah deserves a family who loves him. You left them. But Bradley loves him. Bradley would do anything for him."

Her voice was like steel. "And I deserve a lot more than what I'm getting." She spun on her heel and started to charge away.

"What does that mean?!" you called after her. But she didn't stop or turn back. "Meredith!" You got nothing but the back of her blonde hair, and then she was in her BMW and driving away.

"What the hell?" you muttered to yourself, hands shaking as you put the key in the ignition and started the Bronco. You had to sit for a minute until you were calm enough to drive. Thank goodness you hadn't kept Noah with you today. Thank goodness you'd been alone. And at least Bradley didn't have to deal with this either. 

Oh, he was going to be so upset when you told him later. He'd be mad you didn't interrupt him at work this instant, but you weren't going to do that. You needed to get back to his house right away and get on his computer. Carefully, you put the Bronco in drive. Apparently this thing was worth a fortune. Bradley had a nice house, and he probably paid a pretty penny for Noah's fancy daycare. He told you to spend his money on whatever you wanted at the grocery store. But there was some sort of life insurance money, too? What was going on here?

Your brain was swimming, or maybe drowning as you parked in Bradley's driveway and forced yourself to carry in the groceries and put all of the food away before you locked the front door behind you and turned his computer on. You entered his ridiculous password which you were definitely going to have to make him change, and you started your search. 

Hours went by, and you subsided on only coffee. Then you checked the time on your phone. It was almost five o'clock. You were going to be late to pick them up, and now you had more questions than answers as you ran back out to the Bronco.

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

Okay, Meredith. Okay. Daddy will see you in the courtroom. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 24

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[buckyr00s]

Call Sign: FANBOY

pairing: Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia x Reader

summary: There are reasons why Mickey Garcia got the call sign he did. But maybe the most important one...is you.

warnings/tags: short and sweet fluff, possible canonical inaccuracies (?), a lil meta

author’s note: I really thought my first writing post would be about Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, or Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw considering my URL but there is a severe lack of Fanboy content on this website. Also, I’m not sure if some of the stuff I wrote is canonically correct but it is what it is lol A special thank you to @bradshawsbaby​ for all your support and help. Thank you, thank you! Hope you all enjoy :)

READ PART TWO HERE

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There’s no denying that Mickey Garcia is a damn good WSO. Despite being one of the youngest in his Top Gun cohorts, he is one of the best the US Navy’s ever seen. Being one the best, however, does not make him immune to the teasing that comes with Naval camaraderie. That’s very evident in his call sign: FANBOY.

When anyone asks him about the origins of his call sign, he’ll recite an answer he’s handcrafted ever since the name was assigned to him. First, he’ll blame his age. As one of the youngest, Mickey automatically got the ‘little brother’ designation and the treatment that goes along with that. 

He’ll bring up his first time around at Top Gun and the frequent pranks that his buddies would pull on him. He’ll talk about the one time his friends broke into his locker to orchestrate a surprise--fake--spider prank, criticizing their lack of originality. To be fair, his combination was his birthday, so it wasn’t the best security measure on his part. He’ll usually leave that detail out, but when he does let it slip, he’ll immediately make it clear that he’s learned his lesson.

He’ll recount how in opening his locker, his friends were greeted by a gallery of photos of his family, his friends, his love, and...still photos of Top Gun (1986). “Listen, that movie changed lives,” he’ll justify. “And it’s not like I’m the only one who wanted to join the Navy after watching it”. He’s right, but still. FANBOY strike 1.

Then, he’ll talk about how they also stumbled on his CD collection. Yes, he is the type of person who in a time when digital streaming has made CDs virtually obsolete, continually purchases, collects, and frequently uses CDs. “They’re cool to have and something I can pass down,” he shrugs. On top of that, though, the man kept the CDs in his locker. “For convenience,” he’ll stress. “Everyone loves a good playlist.” FANBOY strike 2.

He’ll mention how his friends explain what they did next. He was told that when people discover a collection, naturally, there’s a desire to go through it. And that’s what his buddies did. Led Zeppelin. Jimi Hendrix. Stevie Wonder. Selena. Bob Dylan. The Jackson 5. Nirvana. Bad Bunny. Jay-Z. BTS. Backstreet Boys. Carrie Underwood. N*SYNC. JLO. He especially got teased for the last few. FANBOY strike 3.

But most of all, he got teased for a certain CD. It was a blank CD, the cover flipped to its blank side. Written in Sharpie, the cover read, “To Star, from your biggest fan”. Surrounding the writing were the attempts of heart and star doodles, though they looked more like guitar picks and sparks. He tried his best. But it was clear what it was: a mixtape.

He’ll describe how his friends must have scrambled, forgetting about the prank they planned to execute. He’ll think about how they must have decided that the more appealing option was to dive deeper into their discovery. They probably slammed his locker shut, sprinting to the lounge to pop the CD into the CD player. Mickey imagines his friends huddled around the speaker, leaning closely and intently as they anticipated what they would hear. 

The first few seconds were silent.

Then a rustling. 

A deep breath in. 

And out.

“Hi baby. I miss you so much. I know the distance has been as tough on you as it has been for me. But I want to thank you for always being there. For supporting me. And as we continue to follow our dreams separately, just know that I think of you constantly. That you and our future together are always on my mind. That I’m so proud of you for doing your thing and admire you so much for it. I’m your biggest fan, forever and always. Sky’s the limit with you and me, Star. I love you.”

And with that, Berlin’s Take My Breath Away starts to play. FANBOY strike... it probably isn’t quantifiable at this point.

My God, did that really take his friends’ breaths away. Mickey was told that they didn’t know whether to cringe, laugh, or sympathize. So...they stayed frozen.

A few bars into the song, he walked into the lounge, drawn by the familiar tune. He found them all gathered around the CD player, eyes wide and jaws dropped. Processing.

“What’s going on?” he gently asked, apprehension and suspicion radiating off of him.

Collectively, his friends’ eyes trail from their stare at the CD player to his confused face. Mickey will describe how he saw it happen in slow motion. He’ll paint the exact moment he figured out what his friends discovered and how they’d next respond. He says he had a millisecond to prepare himself.

Then, the room erupted. His friends jumped up, whooping, hollering, whistling, cackling, making smooching noises. They called him whipped. Love struck. But what can he say? He’s a fanboy.

author’s note: Andddd that’s it. That’s my first writing post. Hope you like it! I have ideas for what would happen when Fanboy introduces Star!Reader to his Navy friends. I would love any comments and feedback, as well as any requests you might have! 

Also a special thank you, again, to @bradshawsbaby​ for the idea of Fanboy making a mixtape for his love and his friends finding it. Such a cute, funny, and fitting idea. Thank you, thank you!

READ PART TWO HERE

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[you-show-me-love]

Oooh, 31? 😁

31. loopy confession after waking up from anesthesia is a lot harder to pass off as a joke the third time

"Fuck, you're hot."

Ian let himself grin as he reviewed Mr. Milkovich's chart. Surgery had gone well. Ian made a note that he was still all loopy from the anesthesia, but left out the words that proved him correct.

"Oh my god, Mick! Please excuse my brother." The woman at his bedside apologized on behalf of his patient.

"He's barely conscious and already cracking jokes." Ian played off the confession for her sake. She didn't need to know anesthesia was basically truth serum at this rate.

"I like fuckin carrot tops" Mr. Milkovich slurred loudly, his face screwed up in indignation.

"With the freckles 'n pale skin…fuckin…alien looking."

He seemed to grow exhausted with each word near the end, head falling back heavily onto the pillows and eyes fluttering closed.

"He's joking." Mandy agreed with an eager nod before turning it into a quick shake of her head. "And you're not alien looking!"

Ian just smiled at the second hand embarrassment obvious in the woman's face and went back to checking out his patient. Everything was looking good, Ian thought, of both the man's vitals and his appearance. He's cute, even under the harsh hospital lights after getting major surgery.

Ian wasn't immune to a good looking man, he just had the luxury of not saying it aloud.

"Everything looks good." Ian began, grabbing the attention of the room. "Anesthesia should wear off in a couple hours."

Mandy nodded and leaned back in her chair, settling in for another few hours of babysitting her older brother and hoping he doesn't say anymore weird shit.

"Mr. Milkovich," Ian said loud and clear, catching the drugged up man's attention. "You're going to feel a little pain as you come down-"

"Cut the chit chat and get on me." Mickey slurred, his mouth forming a lazy, somewhat flirty smile that Ian couldn't help but be charmed by.

"Jesus Mick!" Mandy was back in her upright position, face littered with confusion and worry.

"He's straight so I don't know why-"

"Hey!" Mickey bellowed, too loud for the small recovery room and its occupants. But it was effective, he had their attention.

"I want everyone here to know I'm fuckin' gay." Mickey said, sounding firm and clear, no slur to his words, no room to misunderstand. His tired, half lidded eyes flickered between his sister and the hot redhead.

"Big ol' Mo." He affirmed to his quiet audience, before sleep pulled him under.

It was a beat or two before anyone moved. It was Mandy's hand, moving shakily to cover her mouth, that reset the room.

"He didn't mean that. It's-it's the drugs talking right?"

Wide, desperate eyes looked to Ian for confirmation he could not give. He gave a noncommittal shrug and tried to school his face to impassivity. Judging by her face he did not succeed, unsurprisingly. He'd always been shit at playing it cool.

"He might not remember when he wakes up." Ian started, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "Go easy on him. Sounds like he's been holding that in a long time."

Mandy covered her brother's limp hand with her own, feeling confusion give way to empathy and hurt. She had known her brother all her life, but did she really know him? If she didn't she was going to now.

"Thank you nurse." She looked up at the redhead, the alien looking motherfucker that loosened Mickey's tongue and in turn allowed Mandy to see a new side of her brother.

"Ian."

"Thanks, Ian." Mandy rectified, her smile wide and tone fond.

Ian nodded and grinned back, sparing one last glance to the man in the hospital bed. His heart fluttered taking in his relaxed visage, so angular, pale, and beautiful.

"I'll be back to check on him." Ian informed Mandy, already planning to edit his floor rotation to make it happen.

[introvert--weeb]

Hello Can we talk about your talent girl you're shinning ❤💅💅

But seriously you're work is awesome

Tell me plz if I can request this:

Takemitchi coming back to the past not understanding what is missing for the future

He is in one of toman meeting waiting for the "talk" but he hear some noise behind the tree 🌳and when he go to see he find micky and his gf(s/o) kissing and being lovey dovey and then he understands that she is the reason of mickeys dark implusion (dk if i wrot it good)

Like her dying in his arms so like takemitchi want to save both of them (I'm sucker for this type of angst 🤧)

Sorry if this is too much 😅you don't have to do it just wanted to cry

Love 💘😻💜💛💚🧡💘😻💜💛💚🧡

Oh my god! I'm so glad you are enjoying my writing and thank you so much! You have just made my whole week with that! ❤️😭❤️

Of course! I am a sucker for angst (if you couldn't tell from my posts) and this is just amazing!!

Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy this @kimrena-stuff

--

Mikey X f!reader (fluff with angst)

TW: mentions of death, sadness, blood, violence, canon divergence, alternate timeline

--

The future still wasn't perfect in Takemichi's eyes. Sure, most of the people he tried saving survived but there still was no happy ending for any of them. And once again, Hinata had been killed.

It was confusing him. Surely he had made sure that everything was fixed in the past? What was he missing that could have caused another bad future. The blond had even asked Chifuyu about any events that could be coming up that would cause Mikey to turn out the same as he had every other future. Was it Kisaki? But Kisaki had been fired from Toman.

Chifuyu could not offer much information, after all, he did not know the future and Mikey hadn't declared a war on any other gangs since last time Takemichi had gone back. So there was no luck in that department. Maybe they were both overlooking something small that would be massive in the future?

Takemichi was sort of thankful that he had been called up about the Toman meeting that was happening that night. He could find his answer there, he was sure. After all, each meeting he had gone to so far had provided him with an idea of what was going to happen.

He had arrived at the shrine earlier than most other members. The only ones he really knew that had arrived were Draken, Mitsuya and Chifuyu considering that was who he hitched a ride with. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except Mikey wasn't with Draken as he usually would be.

Curiosity had gotten the better of the young Toman, he had went to ask Draken where the captain was. Draken simply pointed over to a gathering of trees, explaining that Mikey could usually be found there before meetings start. That seemed to only make the boy's curiosity worse, wondering what Mikey could be doing in the cover of the trees.

He couldn't be meeting up with Kisaki still, could he? Is that why the future was not getting any better? Panic filled Takemichi as he approached the trees. If he was talking with Kisaki then that could be his only chance to stop it and create the perfect future he wanted!

It was as he was getting closer that he heard what he thought was two voices talking quietly. Not quiet enough where it could be considered whispering but enough where Takemichi couldn't make out the words being exchanged. He could tell one of them was definitely Mikey but the other could have been anyone. Had Mikey decided to ally himself with someone even more dangerous than Kisaki was proving to be? After all, nobody in Toman had been able to see Mikey in the future so it could be possible.

Trying his best to hide himself from Mikey, Takemichi peeked his head around to find a sight that made his cheeks flush a dark red. Mikey had both hands against a tree trunk with an absolute hottie between them. At first, it seemed a little alarming for the younger blond until he had noticed the soft smile and blush that dusted your features.

It was only when Mikey leaned down to press a kiss to your lips that Takemichi had felt he was overstaying his welcome. Especially since he wasn't really welcome in the first place. He was simply a creepy peeper at that moment. Why did he keep ending up in these types of moments that made him look like a creep?! First it was with Emma and now he was essentially watching his captain make out with his girlfriend.

"I love you, Mikey." Your voice was breathless from that kiss, your eyes sparkling as they stared into your lover's dark ones. It was obvious to anyone that you were both so in love with each other. Hell, you were sneaking off together at any moment you could find just to be all lovey dovey with each other.

"I love you more, Y/N."

Takemichi had caught that small snippet of your conversation as he was trying to silently walk away. He really didn't want to be caught by the Invincible Mikey staring at the loving exchange after all. But it did get him thinking. Had you ever been mentioned in the future? Surely if you were this in love, you would remain by Mikey's side forever?

The Toman meeting started as it usually did. You would be sat on the stairs while your boyfriend would address the issues related to the gang. Everyone knew who you were, you would always be at the meetings after all unless you had to attend to other business. That would explain why Takemichi hadn't seen you. You must have been attending to other things every meeting that the blond went to. All throughout the meeting, Takemichi could only try and recall if you're present in some way in the future. Surely you would still be hanging around with the same people 12 years later.

He would have to contact Naoto in the future as soon as he could. After all, if there was something big that was going to happen then he would want to find out as soon as he could. And so, as soon as the meeting was finished, he made his way to the Tachibana household to find young Naoto.

"So, how did it go? Were you able to change anything?" That was the first thing Naoto asked once Takemichi had woken up. It was the same routine each time. Naoto would ask if he had changed anything, knowing that it wasn't enough since Hinata was still dead. But maybe if something had changed, they were a little bit closer to finding out what was causing this chain of reactions.

Takemichi shook his head and then dived headfirst into his question. He had asked if you were ever mentioned in one way or another. Maybe if you were still alive, something must have happened between you and Mikey which he could prevent from occurring. Just thinking back on how in love you both were with each other, he was beginning to doubt that it was a simple break up.

It had taken the two males a full hour until your name had popped up in their searches. It really didn't help that Takemichi only knew your first name and that you would hang out with Toman. The news article had filled the computer screen, a photo of you smiling in the top corner of the page. It gave off a vibe that didn't match the contents of the article.

You had been stabbed 15 times in the chest and stomach during a gang brawl between Toman and a gang Takemichi hadn't heard of yet. You were rushed to the hospital but had died before the doctors could reach you. It stated that it was a boy named Manjiro Sano that had brought you in.

It all started to make sense now. You had been caught up in the brawl and had sustained injuries that had ended your life. So Mikey had lost himself when you had died in his arms as he tried his best to save you.

Takemichi checked the date on which you had died. 2 days from today. Why wasn't this brawl mentioned at the Toman meeting?! Did Mikey keep it a secret or was it a spontaneous confrontation? Takemichi could only guess it was the second option. Especially since the brawl would take place at Toman's meeting spot at the shrine.

"I need to save Y/N from dying. That is what we were missing! If she survives, Mikey won't lose another piece of himself." And with that, the handshake that activated the time leaping had taken place.

Takemichi had explained his plan to Chifuyu. Explained how there would be a brawl the next day at the shrine and how that is possibly the trigger for the bad futures. After all, Mikey might stay sane with you by his side. Chifuyu couldn't believe what he was hearing. A gang would have the balls to enter the meeting place of Toman just to start a fight? They must either hold a huge grudge against them or were just plain insane. No gang was to ever enter another gang's meeting spot as it was seen as sacred.

The blond had vowed that he would do anything he could to protect you from harm and ultimately save Mikey from his dark future. Even if he had to glue himself to your side, he would make sure nothing happened to you. He would make up for the time he had failed to save Baji.

You and Mikey continued with your routine. Enter the tree clearing and spend some quality time together. You both exchanged kisses, splitting the dorayaki you would keep on you for your boyfriend, and joking around. Everything a couple in love should do.

The day of the brawl had arrived and so had the rival gang. It was in the middle of Mikey addressing his gang that the opponent's had arrived. The shock was quickly erased as the fighting began. Mikey had made sure you stayed close behind him so he could keep you safe, even though you could fight. Maybe not as well as most of the Toman members but you were capable of keeping yourself safe.

Takemichi scanned the entire shrine area in search of you. Relief had briefly enveloped the middle schooler. After all, if Mikey was with you, nobody could touch you. Or that's what everyone had thought. You had been separated from Mikey as soon as the gang members discovered you were cared for deeply by him. They had thought that if they got you, they could win the fight.

It was if the world was entering slow motion. Takemichi tried to push his way to where you were being dragged, the determination to save everyone being his main driving force. Mikey had yet to notice you were no longer behind him, too focused on taking out the leader and winning the brawl so he could take you home where you would be safe. However, that plan was quickly becoming less likely.

"Shit! Move out of my way!" Takemichi had panic pumping throughout his veins. If he couldn't get to you in time, there was no second chance. It was times like this that made him realise just how human he was. He was one boy, not a God. He could only do so much. But he was sure as hell gonna try and save you.

"Y/N!" Takemichi's voice carried across the entirety of the battlefield. So much so that everyone had frozen, especially Mikey. He turned his gaze to behind him where he thought you were only to find you were missing. Frantic, his dark eyes scanned the area until they rested on you being held against your will. The boy who held you had his arm across your neck, squeezing so you couldn't call out to your boyfriend. However, it was the knife that he pointed to your chest that had Mikey scared.

Takemichi was the only person who didn't freeze, pushing his way past the bodies that stood like statues. He could make it! He could save everyone with this one action! He was convinced that this was why Mikey had given into his dark impulses and why no-one could get their happily ever afters.

He was too late. The knife had pierced through your chest, narrowly missing any vital organs. This had seemed to spur the younger blond to increase his speed, trying to keep in mind that you could survive if he kept the stabs to a minimum. After all, the news article had explained how you had been stabbed 15 times. One was fixable. One he could deal with.

Mikey couldn't seem to move. His love had been stabbed. For no other reason than they were there and sticking by him. This wasn't fair. You had nothing to do with what the problem was and you shouldn't be paying the price for it either.

It felt like an eternity for Takemichi to reach where you were. His legs were screaming at him to stop and his heart was beating a million miles a minute. In the time it took him to get to you, you had sustained another two stabs in your stomach and chest. The person doing it was nothing short of a monster. He didn't care that you were innocent or that you were a girl. He just continued his mission.

The sound of skin to skin contact echoed, a sickening crack following along. Takemichi had landed the hardest punch he could muster against the side profile of the monster. The crack was the jaw breaking underneath the force. You were released as the perpetrator stumbled backwards, falling as he lost consciousness. Takemichi had made it but he wasn't confident that it was in time. He couldn't help but watch as you smiled and fell sideways. Fueled simply by the adrenaline, he had carefully picked you up in his arms before starting his journey to the hospital.

Draken had been the one to snap Mikey out of his daze, telling him to get his bike. There was no way that Takemichi would get there in time if he was simply thinking of running. And so that's what Mikey did. He fired up his precious bike, ordering the young blond to climb onto the back before speeding his way to the closest medical facility.

Due to all of this, you had survived. Takemichi had succeeded in saving you and thus saving Mikey. There was a possibility that the future would be good this time.

Once he had heard you were alive and doing well, Mikey had finally let himself react. Tears fell one after the other down his cheeks and relief had lifted his heart. He wouldn't lose you. You were alive because of Takemitchy. That is something Mikey couldn't thank the younger blond enough for. He had saved your life when Mikey could do nothing but watch.

Everyone expressed their gratitude for Takemichi. After all, they couldn't imagine what Mikey would turn out like if he had lost you during that fight. Takemichi had an idea but wasn't about to spill what the future he knew was like. Speaking of which, he did wonder how this had affected his future. Would everyone finally have their happy endings? He sure did hope so.

As soon as Naoto had shook his hand, Takemichi had found himself sitting at a table with a can of beer in his hand. Confused on what was going on, he glanced around at his surroundings. He was currently in a home that looked nothing like his apartment. Photos of a couple he vaguely recognised littered the walls, there was the scent of takeout wafting in the air, and the noise was loud yet joyful.

A few days later, Takemichi decided to head back to where he belonged. 12 years in the future. You had been discharged from the hospital and probably on a date with Mikey as he approached the Tachibana residence. Thinking about it, Mikey had seemed to brighten up more ever since you had been allowed out of the hospital. Takemichi laughed as he recalled Mikey buried under a large bouquet of your favourite flowers and a giant plushie of your favourite animal on that day. You had simply laughed before peppering the Toman leader's face in kisses. You had also planted a peck on the younger boy's cheek as a sign of how grateful you were to him. After all, if Takemichi hadn't done any of that, you wouldn't be able to spend anymore time with Mikey. You owed him your life.

That's when Takemichi realised he had done it. Hinata was chatting happily with Yuzuha and Hakkai about their experiences in Europe; Mitsuya, Smiley and Angry were laughing about some inside joke no-one knew about; Pah-chin and Peh-yan were discussing business relating to the real estate agency; Kazutora and Inui were drinking in the corner, simply observing the festivities; and Draken was chatting away happily to Mikey, his arm around Emma's waist as she tried to soothe their baby. Takemichi had saved them all. They were all OK. Most of all, Hinata was alive.

"Anyone needing any refills?" your voice trailed in from where you stood in the doorway connecting the living room and kitchen. You looked almost the same except for a few features. Takemichi knew at that moment that this was the perfect future for everyone, especially when Hinata had come over and kissed his cheek. The discussion around the room had suddenly become one as everyone spoke about the upcoming weddings between you and Mikey as well as the one between Takemichi and Hinata. For the first time in a long time, Takemichi could let go of the weight he had carried around and enjoy his life with his friends and his fiancé.

[babyboibucky]

Kinda Like It When You Lie

Pairing: Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Summary: You discover the reason why Chris has been lying to you about his whereabouts.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: le smut, le angst, le toxicity but a sorta happy ending I guess???

A/N: I tagged everyone in my Everything Bucky tag list because why not lmfao okay but no, I’m not sure how often I will be writing fics for Seb’s other characters so I won’t be having a separate tag list for that yet. If this isn’t something you’re not interested in, feel free to ignore skskks

I am dedicating this piece to @lookiamtrying​ who got so pissed off that her mans Chris got a lower vote count than Mickey (prior to the release of Monday) when I did my character fic survey lmfao ilysm, Mina!!! This was also inspired by FLETCHER’s If You’re Gonna Lie

MAIN MASTERLIST

Chris kissed you as if it was his last day on earth. It made your insides twist in a blissful way, the kind of kiss that literally took your breath away and made your head spin. You could feel your lungs burning up from the lack of oxygen and yet you didn’t want to pull away.

All you could focus on was how his lips moved against yours, how his tongue danced around your mouth as if he owned you. And in that moment, he really did.

You got lost in Chris— his taste, his rough palms against the smooth expanse of your skin, his weight on top of you as he pressed you down against the cheap motel bed.

It wasn’t until you tried to touch Chris that you realized he had restrained your wrists with something cold and hard. Pulling away from his fervent kiss, you glanced up and saw that he had both of your wrists handcuffed against the headboard.

Tugging at your wrists, you let out a chuckle. “What’re ya, a cop?” you asked.

Chris breathed out through his nose, “Kinda.” he rasped out before taking your bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging at it before sliding his tongue back into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and opened up your legs to fully accommodate Chris’ huge build, his pelvis thrusting against your clothed core making you whine against his lips.

“You gonna arrest me or somethin’?” you asked playfully, tilting your neck to the side as you allowed Chris to nip at your skin, his thick beard scratching you much to your delight.

He pulled back to look at your eyes, “Only for stealin’ my heart, darling.”

-

What you thought was a one-night stand turned into something more. Not that you were complaining, in fact, you’d quickly fallen head over heels for Chris. How could you not when he was the most honest man you’d met in your entire life?

After that first night, Chris told you everything about him and his job. An FBI agent who needed to go undercover as a drug dealer in order to infiltrate a huge drug syndicate. He had been undercover for a while now and it was consuming, he said. That’s how you found him drinking alone at the bar you worked at.

“You planning to consume our entire stock of beers or what?”

Chris let out a breathy chuckle as you placed two more bottles of beer on his table. The man had been in the bar for hours now, drowning his miseries away since his arrival. You noticed him as soon as he sauntered into the bar— all beard and tattooed muscles on display with the denim vest he wore.

“I’m sorry.” he huffed out and you were surprised at how soft spoken he was despite his tough exterior. “Work’s been stressing me out, is all.” He explained with a firm smile.

You couldn’t help but return the gesture, “Thought you were stressin’ over your girl.” You smirked.

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. “Got no girl to come home to.” He said, voice an octave lower and a little bit rougher.

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Man like you can easily find a solution to that.” You said and winked before heading back behind the bar, swaying your hips a little more than the usual.

By the time you reached the bar, you looked back at Chris and caught him staring with a certain look in his eyes.

The same look he would give you whenever you get mad at him for coming home late. The look that always won you over no matter what.

-

“You said you’d be home by eight, Chris. That was four hours ago.”

Chris rubbed his face and dropped his keys on the tray by the front door. You watched him with suspecting eyes as he trudged towards you, eyes tired yet apologetic.

“‘m sorry, sweetheart. Went out with the guys, you know how it is.” he said and tried to reach out to you but you were quick to step back.

“Could’ve texted me, y’know? I made dinner, your favorite. Got cold and decided to throw it in the bin when you didn’t show up.” you said, shaking your head in disappointment and turned around to retreat back into the bedroom.

Chris caught you and gripped your waist in his strong hands, preventing you from further walking away. He pulled your back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck as he whispered apologies into your ear.

“I’m sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you, huh?” he murmured roughly into your ear. “Wanna make you feel good, make you forget my sins.” he teased, earning a soft chuckle from you.

He sucked the skin beneath your earlobe, making your knees weak and your core throb. Chris gently turned you around to face him until your eyes met his-- dark and still apologetic, you wondered why because you’d already forgiven him the moment his hands touched your skin.

Your question was immediately forgotten when Chris kissed you, tongue quickly finding its way into your mouth. His kisses were always so urgent, so hungry and feral.

He always kissed you as if it was the last time.

Clothes strewn everywhere, raspy grunts and high pitched moans, sweaty bodies moving against each other. Every single time you and Chris argued, it always ended the same way, with you giving in to his sweet words and hot touches.

A hand on your nape kept your cheek pressed down onto the mattress as Chris pounded you from behind. Laying flat on your stomach, you could feel every ridge and every vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls. Gripping the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you slightly lifted your ass up earning a harsh spank from Chris.

“You fuckin’ like it when I fuck you rough?” he growled, spanking your ass again before squeezing it into his large hand.

You whimpered at the cold sensation of the rings on Chris’ fingers, wanting it to mark your skin as soon as he was done with you. You moaned when Chris pulled back until only the tip of his hard cock remained in your tight pussy. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes when he pushed your nape further into the mattress at the same time he slammed back in with such force that made you elicit a sound akin to a wail.

“Right there, Chris!” you wantonly pleaded, your drool soaking the sheets beneath you.

“I got you, baby. Gonna fuck you so good you’d forget what you were mad about.”

And forget you did, not just once, not twice. Not even thrice. Every single time Chris came home to you smelling like someone else’s perfume when he claimed to be out with his friends, you always ended up willingly forgetting about it. Chris had you wrapped around his finger and you knew it.

You knew he was lying about his whereabouts and the thing was, you chose to believe in it.

Because with each lie that slipped past his lips, came the sweetest apology followed by a promise to make you feel good and Chris always delivered.

You’d rather hear Chris’ lies than to hear his goodbye just so you can have him in your bed again and again and again.

-

The last lie you tolerated was when he forgot about your anniversary and came home the next day, all moody and grumpy. He went straight to the bathroom, mumbling about how he was tired from work and you didn’t know whether he was lying again or not.

You’d believed too many of his lies by now that you couldn’t even determine which ones were the truth and which ones weren’t.

“Happy anniversary to us, Chris. In case you forgot.” you said as soon as he got out of the shower.

Chris’ face fell, eyes refusing to meet yours from shame. He should be ashamed and so should you, because you’ve tolerated his lies for a year now and no matter how much you wanted to confront him, you always ended up forgiving him.

“Fuck.” he cursed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...the buy bust operation was last night and it slipped my mind.” he said.

And there it was again, the look in his eyes that turned you into a moaning mess beneath him as soon as his lips found yours. Whenever Chris would lie, it always seemed to be so fucking worth it. Because he always fucked you senseless until you were stupid for him, enough to let him get away with his pathetic excuses.

But not tonight, because as Chris bent you in half with his cock slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you promised that this will be the last time you’d enjoy the aftermath of his lies.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more. Want this pussy to milk my cock dry, c’mon pretty girl.” he urged, slipping a hand in between your sweaty bodies, his thumb swiping at your clit until stars exploded behind your eyes.

His name was chanted out like a prayer, your lips red and swollen from being kissed and bitten. A few more hard thrusts and you felt Chris spill his seed into you, warm ropes of his cum painting your walls. He carefully slipped your legs off from his shoulders before laying down on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your chest as the both of you caught on your breaths.

“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris turned his head to you, trying to read your face but you kept your gaze on the ceiling. Tears escaped your eyes as you laid on the bed, blinking them away when they wouldn’t stop spilling.

“I want the truth, Chris.” you added, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

The bed moved when Chris sat up, reaching for your face and turning it to wards him. Your lips were trembling, fighting back your sob. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

“I don’t want your apology, Chris. I want the truth, please.” you begged.

“I can’t stay with you anymore.” he said.

You frowned and sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your naked body. “Who’s she?” you asked. “I know you’ve been seein’ someone behind my back, I want to know. Who is she? ‘nother FBI agent? Or someone you met while you were undercover?” you were more of mad than hurt now, all your suppressed emotions finally resurfacing and begging to be released.

Chris swallowed and refused to meet your gaze, “It’s...it’s not like that.” he said.

“The fuck you mean, Chris?” you asked.

There was silence for a brief moment, as if Chris was gathering up all the courage he had left in him. And then he looked at you with the same guilty, apologetic eyes again. But it was different now because you knew that there wouldn’t be anymore lies which meant no more sweet talk and no more Chris in your bed until the next morning.

“I never cheated on you.” he huffed out. “I’ve always been...with Erin.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were a part of my undercover. The leader of the drug syndicate I was trying to infiltrate frequented the bar you worked at. Needed to get as much as information as I can and I easily got that when we started—”

Your hand trembled after landing a solid slap on Chris’ face. Your heart ached, your vision spun and suddenly, nothing made any sense to you anymore. All this time, you thought that was Chris was being unfaithful to you when in truth, he was cheating…with you.

Now you finally understood why he always kissed you as if it was the last time, why he looked at you with those apologetic eyes whenever he came home late, whenever he lied.

Chris told you the entire truth, that he was at the bar during an operation and not after. He manipulated you into believing that everything he told you were real, that he was a good and an honest man, that Erin was nothing but a partner at work.

“When you said you love me, was that a lie too?” you asked, voice breaking because this was too much. Everything was too much.

Chris held your face in between his hands, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks, “No. No, that wasn’t a lie. I do, I love you. As soon as the operation was done, I couldn’t say goodbye. I always said I’d tell you the truth but I couldn’t. I wish I hadn’t met you like this.” he reassured.

You pushed him away and covered your face with your hands, unable to believe that for an entire year, you’d dedicated your life and your love to someone who had been using you.

“Does she know about me?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “She does.”

You scoffed, “She fuckin’ pities me, doesn’t she? Probably told you to take your time, ‘cause the truth will fuckin’ ruin me.” you said and chuckled bitterly.

“You used me, Chris. Fuckin’ used me and made me a goddamn fool. Is Chris even your real name? Who the fuck are you?” you asked.

“I lied about everything except for two things. My name and when I said I love you.”

You shook your head, wiping away your tears. You’ve finally woken up, brought yourself back to consciousness and decided to accept that Chris was never honest and that not once did he become yours.

“Liar.”

-

Picking up the pieces of your broken trust was very much like working with the shards of a broken mirror. At times you came out unscathed but for the most part, you were left wounded and bleeding and in pain.

Putting all the broken pieces back together was definitely not easy and it took you years to do so. No matter how careful you were though, the mirror was never completed. There were ugly cracks and everywhere that you couldn’t hide and there was a missing piece. But that’s alright, because you tried to put yourself back together and you weren’t perfect but at least you did your best.

The bar you started working for was quite new, which explained how busy it was even on a slow Wednesday. It wasn’t as big as the old bar you used to work at, but this was newer and catered to a more classy crowd.

No rough bikers, no FBI agents going undercover, no funny businesses.

“Two bottles of beer for table seven.” your manager called out, “Thought it’d be slow today, boy was I wrong.” she commented to which you chuckled.

Taking out two ice-cold bottles from the fridge, you weaved through the crowd and tables until you reached your destination. Placing the bottles on top of the table, you asked the customer if he wanted to order something to go with his drinks.

Taking out your notepad, you finally looked up and was met with a pair of familiar blue eyes. You almost didn’t recognize Chris if it weren’t for those eyes. He was no longer sporting a buzz cut and had longer locks, his beard had grown out but was well-trimmed. His tattooed arms weren’t in full display and instead of the usual denim outfits he wore, he was merely clad in a plaid, maroon button down shirt.

“Hi.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Let me guess, you’re undercover and your target is a frequent customer here.” you said.

Chris laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, “I quit from that job years ago.” he said, much to your surprise.

“You stressin’ over your girl?” you asked.

“Got no girl to come home to...anymore.” Chris replied, those damn apologetic eyes making your knees weak once again.

You rolled your eyes at him and placed your notepad back in your apron, “If you’ve nothin’ else to order, then enjoy your beer. I guess.” you said and turned around but was quickly tugged back when Chris grabbed at your wrist.

Scowling at him, you eyed his hand and then back up at his eyes. They didn’t look apologetic though, you realized, he was giving you the same look but something was different.

You just didn’t know what changed.

“I did love you.” he said. “And I still do and I want to come home to you again.” he quickly added, tightening his grip around your wrist as if he was afraid to let you go.

Surprisingly, there was not an ounce of anger left in your heart. It had been a complete three years since the incident. He left you feeling used and broken but you managed to fix yourself. Not completely, but enough to find it in your heart to forgive Chris for what he did.

“I want to believe you, I really do. But it’s hard for me to do that now.” you explained.

Chris nodded in understanding, “I know but I want to start over again. Make things right, if you’d let me. No lies this time, just me and my truth.” he said, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the inside of your wrist.

Honesty. Pure and genuine honesty— that’s what changed in the way Chris looked at you. There wasn’t any guilt in there anymore, no hidden agendas and whatnot.

Just the truth and the missing piece you never knew you needed to complete your mirror.

-

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