#should've used different settings but it's too late now :)

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

[riitah]

[lover's quarrel] - gojo satoru x fem!reader

*sorry, i forgot to tag this: spoilers for jjk 0, but it's only mentioned in like one sentence and it's a very small detail SYNOPSIS: you and gojo got into your first argument as a couple, but you didn't expect him to come forward to apologize first. WORD COUNT: 1.3k HONORABLE MENTION: special thanks to my beta reader “henry rumpelstiltskin III of the nuclear sock kingdom”! :DD AUTHOR'S NOTE: egocentric fictional men who apologize first>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> - (he'd apologize first because I said so) - (he'd also be so embarrassed about it because i said so) - (because y'know. he probably never apologizes first. except this time.) - (holy crap i hope this isn't too ooc like i've never seen him get into an argument with anyone before 😭😭😭)

You. The couch. And the deafening silence.

It wasn't like you and Satoru haven't gotten into arguments before; back in high school, he loved to bother the crap out of you when you were busy doing something that required your full attention, and many of these button-pushing sessions led to full-blown arguments where the two of you hurled insult after insult at each other (though they were more of a one-sided thing, because he just laughed at you and your reddening face, asking if that was all you got). And Shoko and Suguru would watch all the while, one enjoying the entertainment she was getting and the other patiently waiting for a moment where he could calm the both of you down.

But this argument was different. It wasn't some small fight between teenagers that the two of you would forget in a few days. Heck, it might even last a few days instead, now that Suguru wasn't here.

Suguru.

You sighed, remembering that you fought with him, too. Figuratively and literally.

You sunk into the soft seat and leaned your head against the back cushion, letting out a loud groan.

Should I just apologize and get this over with?

After all, knowing your boyfriend, he'd be way too prideful to say sorry first.

Right. Boyfriend. Maybe even soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

You tightly clutched the hem of your shirt at the thought, your heart feeling heavy. The remnants of the feud buried themselves deep into your chest, pulling and clawing at it as if it was trying to rip something out of there. It hurt knowing that the relationship you were once so happy to establish might not last as long as you thought it would.

Your best friend and your boyfriend; two heartbreaks, two people lost.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears. The room gradually grew darker and darker as the sun set in the distance, a painful reminder to you that Satoru had been gone for hours. Pulling your knees to your chest, you rocked back and forth, wondering where he could be this late.

Certainly not at some club, right...?

Your stomach twisted in a way you couldn't explain, and you let out a choked sob.

He can't be. He's not like that.

But Satoru had never been romantically involved with anyone before you. So how did you know what to expect?

You felt your fingernails digging into your skin, hard enough to make it bleed. You hated the way the scenarios were running through your head, the way none of them were him coming home to you without smelling of sickly sweet perfume and without having lipstick stains all over his neck. It was truly a different kind of pain knowing that someone who had declared his love for you merely six hours before could take it all back in an instant.

This is all so, so stupid. Maybe this was a mistake from the start.

Grabbing your coat that was lying right next to you, you stood up to leave.

Maybe a break would serve the both of us some good.

You put it on, not bothering to zip up the front.

I never should've said yes.

You walked towards the door, your footsteps soft, hesitant, and gradually slowing down to a stop when you arrived. You reached for the doorknob, still unsure of your decision. Your hand hovered in midair as you looked down at your feet, warm tears still streaking down your cheeks.

Is this really the right thing to do?

You couldn't think straight, or pinpoint what exactly you felt. Anger? Worry? Dread? The different emotions were all mixed into one, forced down your throat and into the pit of your stomach, with the sole purpose of breaking you from inside out.

You didn't want to think about anything anymore.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before wrapping your hand around the doorknob, and--

The door flew backwards, striking against your palm. Your eyes opened in surprise, darting from the doorknob to the tall man that stood in front of you.

Neither of you said a word.

You were rooted to the spot, your legs frozen. Beads of sweat rolled down your back, tickling you, futilely trying to distract you from the situation at hand. Your hands felt clammy, your breath was stuck uncomfortably in your throat, and a single tear awkwardly slid its way down the side of your face, seemingly not getting the memo.

Satoru stared back at you, his sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, slightly crooked. His blue eyes blinked at you, with a hint of confusion behind them. He was also slightly panting, you realized as you saw his shoulders slightly heave up and down from the corner of your eye.

"...(Y/N)?" His voice was gentle, void of any anger, unlike the tone he had used with you just hours before.

You didn't reply in fear of breaking down in front of him, in fear of coming off as some kind of victim when the fault was yours as much as it was his.

"What are you... Were you leaving? Were you crying?"

He sounded so confused, so worried. He touched your wet cheek, brushing against it with his calloused hand.

"Toru, where were you?" Your voice was barely audible.

One second passed. And then two.

Please tell me that you didn't give up on us.

And then three. And four.

The silence dragged on. And your hope dwindled along with it.

"Toru, I..." you said hoarsely.

Your heart dropped when you finally smelled the faint trace of perfume. The very same sickly-sweet smell you had been afraid of.

It can't be.

Can it?

"Were you...kissing some other girl?" Your voice cracked a little.

"What?! No!" His eyes widened as he frantically shook his head, and then he exhaled and furrowed his brows. "Was that why you were crying?"

You nodded meekly, feeling as though you were about to cry all over again. "I thought you'd want to break up with me."

"I'd never." You felt his lips press against your forehead, the warmth still lingering even after he pulled away. "And..." He dropped his hand to his side and glanced away, preoccupied with something on the floor, his voice quiet, sincere. "I'm...sorry."

Now it was your turn to widen your eyes. Did he just...apologize?

He peeked at you, and then grinned when he saw your expression. "Dumbfounded, aren't you? You should be honored to be the first and only person I've ever apologized t--mmph!"

All of the sadness seemed to have evaporated from your body as you grabbed his face with one hand, bringing it close. "Do that again."

He squinted at you. "I got you flowers," he suggested, squirming in your grasp. "And perfume too, so if you smell that on me, that's probably from the shop." A pause, waiting for you to let go. "And chocolate." Another pause, a smirk forming on his face. "Sexy lingeri--?"

You gave him a deadpan stare before he could finish.

"Kidding, kidding! Obviously." He laughed, the sound filling your stomach with butterflies. "So does that mean you forgive me?"

You sighed, nodding, letting go of him. "I'm really sorry, too. It was a stupid thing to argue over."

"Well, that marks the end of our first lover's quarrel!" He readjusted his glasses and smiled at you before bringing his left hand out from behind his back. "Good thing, because my arm was about to start cramping--"

You didn't register the rest of his words as he showed off the items he bought for you, your mind still trying to process what had just happened.

Toru knows how to apologize...

Surprised? Happy? Maybe giddy? Or all three?

You let a giggle slip, and he turned to you, the bouquet of flowers in his hands raised like a trophy.

"What're you laughing at?"

"Nothing."

You pulled in by the collar for a taste of his soft lips, whispering against them a quiet "I love you."

[din-miller]

I think we all deserve some high tension closed places with the bad batch. Whether they're trying to escape from the empire or trying to fix the marauder and get stuck awfully close together?

Perhaps it ends in a Lil make out session?? 👀

This is a month late and I deeply apologize for that.

I spent so long trying to come up with different ideas for each batch boy. After two weeks of failed attempts writing different scenarios, I gave up and each part is set in a garbage compactor. The reader and each boy must come up with a way to survive as the walls close in.

Also I didn’t see the awfully close part until writing this. I’ll eventually write a lil something to make up for that. Though the walls are closing in and they do end up in each others arms…

The Walls Around Us, Betray Us

Pairing: The Bad Batch x F!Reader

Word count: 3.6k (in total)

Warnings: slightly suggestive (echo I’m looking at you boy), first kiss, make out session, trapped together, hurt/comfort, female reader, thinks their going to die so obviously the correct thing to do is confession your dying love to one another.

A/N: I hurt hunter so much.

Hunter

You’re not surprised when Wrecker, filling in momentarily for Tech, sent you down the wrong corridor. You’re also not surprised when Hunter pulled you to a stop by your hips, nor when he raised a finger to his mouth signalling you to be quiet. You are surprised when he basically body checked you down a garbage chute.

You both managed to land on your feet, which disappeared beneath murky water. The smell inside the compactor is kriffing awful and you dread the days to come where no matter how hard you scrub, the stench won’t leave.

In front of you, Hunter fell to his knees, pants and armour quickly becoming soaked as the brown water splashed up around him. Both of his hands come to cover his nose, face scrunching up as if he’s in pain.

You had watched him stick the landing, you knew there was no debris around him when his feet meet the water below, which left you baffled as to why he’s burying his face in his hands as strangled breaths echo off the walls of the garbage compactor.

His fingernails begin to leave red crescent shaped marks on the side of his nose and you cursed yourself for being so blind. You’re surrounded by garbage, there’s so many smells, all different but just as strong. Too strong for his enchanted senses. His helmet had fallen off during the tumble down the chute and was floating through the murky water, useless.

“What can I do?” You asked helplessly, “What do you need?” When all he replied with was your name, you frowned, “Yes?”

He shook his head, “No, I need, kriff-,” He pulled you down by the buckle of your pants, your knees hitting the water hard but before you could even begin to wince in pain, Hunter's head was buried in your neck. You could feel his nostrils flare, hear the sharp intake of air he breathed in, “I need you.”

Oh

You tilt your head to the side, allowing him easier access to your skin and he breathed it in greedily. Hunter pressed in closer to you, almost knocking you back into the water. In all the missions you’ve been on, Hunter’s senses have never brought him to his knees like this before.

“I can do more,” You promised, voice barely above a whisper, “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

“Tech, Wrecker,” He gasped out, “Comm them.”

Right, of course. That should've been your first thought. Your hand reached down to your comm and wrapped around… nothing.

“Kriff!” You swore, hand reaching for Hunter’s belt.

“Cyare,” His body tensed under your touch, “I-I lost mine when we fell.”

You pulled away from, his head no longer buried in your neck but now framed by your hands. Your thumb caught a stray tear which made another one fall. The sight broke your heart.

“I’ll get us out.” You carefully leaned him against one of the compactor’s walls, the water chest high on him now, more of his skin being soaked and your anger towards Wrecker and his incompetence to figure out a damn map is high.

You sighed. It’s not Wreckers fault. He was doing his best in a situation he wasn’t prepared for and wasn't properly shown how to read the imperial ship's blueprint when Tech had been called away to fix something important on the ship. Wrecker did his best and you hope the rest of the Batch will not let the largest clone take blame for something that isn’t his fault.

You stood in front of the door, metal and rust trapping you in. You wrapped both hands around the cold handle and pulled. When the door didn’t open or even move an inch, you let out a cry of frustration and pounded your fist against it. Hard enough to split the skin on the side of your hand open.

“Stop!” Hunter called out, wincing at the loudness of his own voice and you immediately halted all movements. He’s looking your way but his eyes are narrowed in, unseeing as he focused on drowning out all sense but one.

Then, after a few quiet heartbeats, warning alarms blared through the compactor and the red light above the door started blinking. The hum of the compactor was next and your heart dropped in horror.

“Hunter, you have to get up!” You screamed, splashing your way over to him, water splashing high enough to irritate the cut on your hand, making you hiss but you pay no attention to it.

He shook his head, eyes scrunched shut, “I can’t.. the smell, the taste– it’s too much,” A broken whine left the man, “Please.”

His body jerked forward when the wall behind him began to close in. Behind you the opposite wall followed suit.

“You can,” You said, knees sinking in the water again, hands falling onto Hunter’s shoulders, “You can and you will. You don’t get to give up, you don’t get to die on your brothers, on Omega,” You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “Do whatever you have to do to block out-,”

“Kiss me.”

You blinked, reeling back from him, mouth suddenly dry. It’s not that you don’t want to kiss him, in fact it’s the exact opposite; you’ve yearned to feel his lips against yours. Dreamt of having his body pressed against you during the nights. Of exploring Puba’s waterside hand in hand.

There’s so many things you’ve imagined doing side by side with him. Dying wasn’t one of them. Being his distraction for a chance of survival wasn’t one of them.

You don’t want to take what you can get, because you deserve more than that.

But you also don’t want Hunter’s family to mourn over a death that you possibly can prevent.

With the slightest nod of your head, Hunter is rushing forward, his mouth soft and seeking against yours, fingers digging into the label of your jacket like a lifeline.

After a few seconds you pulled back enough to speak, “I need to know if this is a distraction on your part. Because for me, this is real. I want you Hunter, but not as a toy for you to tune out-,”

“No,” Hunter growled, eyes darkening, “Never, not you. I want you, ner kar’ta. All of it, everything. I never knew I could feel like this, that’s not what clones were programmed for. When I met Cut and his wife I thought, maybe, if I was fortunate enough, I could have what he has. Someone to love.”

“Hunter-,”

He shook his head, cutting you off, “I love you. I have for a while and I’m so sorry I never told you.”

“I’d rather you tell me now, than to die without knowing. I love you Hunter. I love your siblings. Travelling with you all has been the best decision of my life. I don’t regret any of it.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth his lips were back on yours, not as desperate, more reassuring if anything. You yield under his touch, letting him lead the kiss. There’s small puffs of air tickling your upper lip as he breathed in your scent and exhaled sharply, repeating the action again and again.

The walls scraped loudly across the floor causing Hunter to shiver and even with your eyes closed, you could see the way his ears twitched at the sound.

Then it stopped, all of it. The walls, the kissing, the pain grunts that Hunter isn’t able to hold back. It’s completely silent, then a voice cut through the quietness.

“The door is unlocked, get your arses out of there.”

“Wrecker!” You laughed, “Am I ever glad to hear your voice.”

“Me too, ad’ika,” His voice is soft, “Now get out before the imps lock me out of their system. Oh, and congrats guys!”

Hunter hid his face in your shoulder and mumbled, “Thanks Wrecker.” He pulled back, eyes locking with yours, “Let’s get the kriff out of here cyar’ika.”

Echo

“Remind me again why you thought this was a good idea?” You asked, awkwardly balanced on top of Echo's shoulders as you attempted to open the door latch on the ceiling.

His hand held your legs close to his chest as his scomp rested against your lower back so you won’t fall off his shoulders, “You thought the idea was good too.”

“Yeah because it was either this or getting shot,” You pointed out, cursing when your second attempt at opening the circular escape door failed, “And I do not want to get shot again.”

“It was an accident!” Echo huffed, fingers tightening around your legs momentarily as if the memory of your blood caused by his own hands would pull both of you under the murky water beneath his feet, “And you promised not to hold it against me.”

“Yeah, well that was before I was stuck in a garbage compactor,” You banged a fist against the door, a yell of frustration leaving your lips, “It’s rusted shut.”

Echo sighed, bending at the knees to allow you to slide off his shoulders. When finding your footing in the slippery water proves to be a challenge, Echo is quick to pull you against his chest, steadying you, “It’ll be okay, Tech will find us.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, face hiding in the crook of his neck, “Then what? We get crushed to death like a pile of trash?”

He ran a soothing hand down your arm, “It could be worse.”

“How?!”

His voice fell into a teasing note, the mirth of it almost misplaced in your current situation, “You could be stuck with Crosshair instead of me.”

“Suddenly getting shot doesn't look so bad,” You teased back, drawing in closer to the clone as you quietly admitted, “I’m glad it’s you.”

“Me too.” He breathed, head resting on top of yours before tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

You’ve been on a few dates, nothin fancy; it’s hard to pull an all-star date when you’re running from the Empire but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve never met anyone like Echo, never met someone who makes your heart race by just standing next to them.

He’s different from any clone you’ve met before. Wounded but never broken. That was your first impression of him all those years ago. When you rescued him from Skako Minor, watching as he cracked a joke with Rex, smiling brightly at the older clone.

You fell for him and you fell hard.

The water licks at your knees as it ripples ever the slightest, a warning alarm goes off in the background, a loud reminder of how this ends. You watch a flick of guilt flash in Echo’s eyes and really hope Tech is able to find you before you’re crushed to death.

The guilt that is consuming the man holding you tightly is a guilt you want to chase away. So you do. You rush forward until your lips meet his. The kiss is fast, messy, verging on the side of painful as teeth scrape across your bottom lip. His fingers leave bruises against your hip and your lungs begin to ache for a breath.

If you are to die here in this trash compactor at least you're dying with the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

He’s backing you up against the wall, the one you know is going to start closing in on you and him. The one that will be your inevitable death. At the moment you can’t find yourself to care about that as your lips slide perfectly against his, moans filling the room as your lips separate long enough to suck in a lung full of air before resuming the kiss.

You're not sure what compelled you to switch your positions, slamming his back against the wall as your chest pressed against his, lips reconnecting in a bruising kiss. You realise how well your body fits against his.

His hand squeezed your hip before trailing up your side, inches away from your breast when suddenly your comm link beeped and Tech's voice filled the room: “Please refrain from any sexual activities as Hunter is about to break through the door.”

Your face flushed and you dipped your head down in an attempt to hide it. Going by Echo’s chuckle you failed miserably. With a groan you asked: “What kind of garbage compactor has camaras?”

Wrecker

The smell of garbage clogged your nose as you stare mildly annoyed at Wrecker, “I have never found myself stuck in an imperial garbage compactor with any of the other Batch.”

“Eh, I guess that’s what makes me special.” The clone shrugged, like your current situation is only a minor setback.

That earned him an exasperated huff, “Alright Mr. Special, how are we going to get out of this one?”

His face scrunched up, the scar tissue across his nose reflects the compactor’s red light and you have a strong urge to run your finger over the scar, “Don’t suppose there’s anything in here to make a bomb do ya?”

“Unless nuggets have suddenly become explosive, it doesn't look like it.” You splash the half-bitten nugget aside before re-searching the room for a way out.

Wrecker frowned and joined you in finding a way out. Moments passed in silence before Wrecker couldn’t handle the quietness. He leaned against the wall across from you and smiled, “At least we’re not crowded.”

The wall behind him screeched loudly and Wrecker’s body jerked forward with the sudden moment of the rusted metal. The floor began to vibrate knocking you off your feet and into the dirty water beneath you.

It’s beyond disgusting and your temper began to rise, “You just had to go and say something!”

“How was I supposed to know that was going to happen?!” He exclaimed, looking around the room for anything to help stop the walls from closing in.

Figuring since you’re already soaked and on your knees you'd best start blinding feeling around in the water hoping to find anything useful, “Let’s just figure out how to get out of here before we’re flattened like a pancake.”

Wrecker made a noise of agreement and busied himself with different attempts at preventing the walls from closing in. A minute passed with no success. Wrecker threw aside a long pipe that split in half and before you could stop him, his arms were spread out wide, palms pressing against both walls.

The walls yielded and you both breathed a breath of relief, only in the next blink of an eye, Wrecker cried out in pain as the walls scraped against the floor.

His arms started shaking in protest of being used in such manner but he gave you a wide smile and said, “You’d be a pretty pancake.”

You couldn’t fight back the snort that left your mouth, which earned you a satisfied grin from the clone. You blushed, his eyes darkening at the pretty pink across your cheeks. You shook your head, “What about you?”

His smile turned bashful, “No one would be looking at me, mesh’la.”

“You’re wrong,” You cupped his cheek, fingers brushing against his scars, something you’ve found yourself wanting to do for the last few weeks. His skin is raised from the scar tissue but it’s incredibly soft, “I would be.”

“Just lookin’?” He asked, elbows bending as the pressure of the walls became too much, while his head pressed further into your hand, eyes closing with a gentle sigh.

“Why would I stop doing what I love?” Your hands trailed down both of his arms until they wrapped around his wrist, giving them a squeeze, “Let go Wrecker.”

There’s sweat gathering at his temple and his eyes are frantic in the wake of your words, voice unsteady, “No, I.. I won’t let you get hurt! I can do this.”

“Wrecker, even with your enhanced bone density, you can’t stop the inevitable. I know you, you’ll keep going until your arms break... Then how would you hold me?” You gave him a half pleading and half coy look before sobering up, “You’re scared, so am I. All I ask is to know the feeling of your arms around me. Please, love, let go.”

His arms fell to the side, his posture, which was rigid, deflated to a defeated stance. You want to say something, anything, but the walls closing in faster would only drown out your voice. You’re not strong enough to speak anything louder than a whisper.

Wrecker must have understood, his voice loud enough for the both of you as he asked, “Any regrets?”

The corner of your mouth drew up and you held up a finger, eyes falling to the plush of Wrecker’s lips, in answer. Wrecker’s chest raised with a deep breath before exhaling slowly. He brought your hand up to his face, gently placing a kiss on the finger still held up. His breath is a warm comfort against your skin, “Me too, me too.”

Don’t die with regrets. That’s what people always say. A part of you is afraid to add to the regrets but that doesn’t stop you from leaning up to kiss Wrecker.

It was quick, a fierce burst of longing, barely able to capture the taste of Wrecker when he pulled back, “I love you. I wish I told ya sooner.”

He looked almost fearful, like he’s expecting you to push him away and you’re not going to allow that. You fall further into his embrace, lips crashing against his once more and he sunk into it immediately.

Tech

The horrible screeching of rusted metal sliding across the floor was the only warning you got before you found yourself watching in horror as the walls on either side of you started closing in.

“That is not ideal.” Tech stated, fixing his goggles as his brown eyes flicker from the wall back to his datapad, reading whatever is displayed on his screen, “That is not good.”

“Understatement of the century,” You huffed, grimacing as the dirty water splashed your legs and soaked your pants, “I thought you said the compactor wasn’t scheduled for another hour!”

Tech turned the datapad towards you, a blurry video in black and white shows a live feed of the trash compactor, “It appears that we have been spotted.”

You swore, “Can you override the controls?”

“The empire seems to have updated their technology. I do not recognize the codes they are using. It will take me some time to decipher them.”

You watched as his fingers danced across his datapad, “How long will that take? If you haven’t noticed, we're a minute away from being crushed to death!”

“I’m aware.” His voice held a bite to it, one that you’ve never heard before.

Regret fills your body. He’s in the same situation as you, afraid just the same, “Right, of course, sorry.”

He doesn’t verbally address your apology but he does reassure you, “The others will find us. We’ve been in worse situations before.”

You studied him for a moment; taking in his stiff posture which is rare, he’s more of a croucher, spending a good portion of his days bent over the ship's console or his datapad. His fingers are tapping at the side of his device, a nervous habit of his. Your eyes fall shut, accepting defeat because you know, “We’re not making it out are we?”

“It is unlikely I’m afraid,” His voice is no longer biting, nor near defeat, just acceptance, “I do not have the necessary time to decipher the coding. Our fate is in the hands of the Batch now.”

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“Yes, but it’s not because I don’t care about our survival,” He attached his datapad into its slot on his belt, “I don’t want to spend my last moments with you with my face buried in a datapad. That’s not fair to either of us.”

He’s close enough to reach out and touch him, which is what you do. One hand flat against his chest, armour cold under your palm, and your other hand rests on his side, your hand small enough to settle on the warmth of his blacks where the armour doesn’t cover his torso.

“I would have before you,” He said, leaving you confused and he smoothed out the lines forming the frown on your face, then his hand cupped your cheek, “Take in as much information as I could, spend my last minutes doing what I do best; learning the ways of the Empire,” He pressed his forehead against yours, “Words could never compare to you, cyar’ika.”

Your heart soars, eyes flickering down to his lips, “May I kiss you?”

“Please.” Breathed Tech, already dipping his head down to meet you halfway, barely getting the words out before your lips connected. His lips are soft and tasted like caf and you both moaned into the kiss.

Your fingers flexed on his chest amour, steadying yourself when his tongue ran over the seal of your lips asking for permission. You let him lead and deepen the kiss, enjoying following along with the passion he poured into the kiss.

He eventually pulled back to rest his forehead against yours once more, “If we make it out I would love to take you on a date.”

“And if we don’t?”

“I’d die knowing how your lips feel on mine. To know what it’s like to taste the woman I cherish. That’s how every man should go.” Tech smiled.

Crosshair

Sorry, Crosshair is on a vacation at the moment. He was kind enough to leave a message for his brothers.

✨ Eat trash and die ✨

[itsgrimeytime]

Maneater (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: "Don’t play friendly with me." + "Try me."

Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, a touch of abandonment, grudges, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: y'all ever heard of TENSION?? Or enemies to lovers??? Because I'll tell you what, I have :))) Lowkey, you have a good reason to hate Rick, but like... you'll see. also I am living in delusion for what Rick looked like in the Alexandria timeline, so just know I picture the gif, okay? Thx <3 ]]

Before you go thinking this is another long series, this is just a two/maybe three-parter. There was more to this idea than what I felt I could naturally convey in one one-shot. So, let me know if you want to be tagged for the continuation.

"Shit."

This really, truly, was never supposed to happen. This was the worst-case scenario, the kind of thing that plagued your dreams with things that were so not probable they shouldn't be scary. And yet here you were, in nightmare territory.

"Y/N? Really, is that- is that you?" the familiar face spoke -Glenn, you realized now.

God, it had been so long, you'd thought for sure at least half of that group had vanished.

Well, maybe they had. You weren't exactly sure, but Glenn hadn't really looked worse for wear. He suited the lifestyle well, actually, which you were a little impressed by -the pizza delivery guy had come a long way.

"We thought you..." he faltered off, still a bit in disbelief.

"Died? Nope," you finished, bitter, sure, but you'd never really had the chance to get over it, "-despite your wonderful leader's best efforts, I remain unscathed."

Glenn frowned.

The joy from moments before dissipated in the now fairly tense air between the two of you -others you recognized weren't there, but you imagined they were wherever he came from. Which you were currently trying to keep in the very back of your mind -you'd never follow him to them, you just couldn't.

"I should've..." he began, words seeming to come to a stop, "-Any of us should've stuck up for you. It wasn't right."

There was a bit of pleasure hearing that, somewhere deep in your chest, you appreciated it. But while the idea was good, it was very much too late. The resentment that had developed in your chest, had only solidified there -unbreakable and set in stone. You hadn't trusted a soul since, not fully anyway.

This world was filled with broken hearts, and yours was one of them.

And that was something Rick and his group had to live with, whoever they were now because that... was their fault.

You hadn't meant to hate Rick Grimes specifically, above everyone else, but the words came out of his mouth.

'Get out of here, we can't... we can't have a group this divided.'

You could still see him now in your head, clean-shaven and dressed in his uniform, taking the world by storm despite not knowing what the fuck he was doing. You were different then, scared but ready to do what you needed -hell, the first time you'd ever even held a gun was against a walker. It was with that group, they'd taught you.

You swallowed down the bile in your throat, and pushed through the rubble -your feet ached from being on the move for so long. You couldn't remember the last time you slept, or even sat down.

You couldn't not in this world, it was all about motion, about survival, about getting through the next few hours at a time.

"Look, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be," Glenn began -following you close behind, "-but we have a place... It's safe, you could sleep. You could eat. There are houses, hot water-"

You froze in place, the idea spreading a sort of warmth in your chest, something you'd forgotten somewhere along the path. Hope. Yet, there was still a sting there -deep under your skin, "Glenn-"

"It doesn't have to be forever," he added, and now that you looked at him, he did seem clean -his clothes washed and the desperation that dusted your skin was so distant you could hardly see it, "-just for a few days."

Feet frozen to the spot, you exhaled -the breath shaking you to the root, it had been so long, but how could you trust him? How could you trust any of them?

You remembered Glenn had looked hesitant, that day, his own suspicion drawn in his eyebrows but it hadn't gone farther than that. He hadn't said a word. No one had. But now, he was here offering solace, safety. And you knew it wasn't just out of pity.

The world had enough of that on its own. You had enough of that on your own, your story spilling to listening ears -they'd all been the same. Still, you could use a break.

And as much as you didn't trust the group, whatever it had become, you knew that if anyone had survived this long -they'd been skilled. Skilled enough for you to breathe, for you to close your eyes and sleep.

You sighed, wiping the sleep from your eyes, or rather the lack of, "Just a few days?"

"As long as you need," Glenn reiterated, somehow conveying that you never had to leave, it was a small thing. But comforting.

"I get to decide when to leave?"

Glenn frowned, his own body almost shrinking in on itself, disappointment. You'd never thought you'd see this, someone from so long ago -the regret, the remorse, "Yeah, of course."

And you were thinking about it. As your joints ached and your throat burned for water, the breeze felt cold against your bones, and you truly couldn't imagine it getting any warmer. The sun setting only meant it could get colder, and you were currently without a roof.

"Okay," you quietly agreed, despite the churning in your stomach saying otherwise.

That was when one of the others, neither of which you knew, spoke, "But, didn't Rick say-"

"Shut it," Glenn exhaled, tone icy and you suddenly realized maybe they were new to him too.

The walk was long, not grueling since Glenn had known exactly where he was going -he'd always had that sense of direction though. You remembered the early days when he'd been the one to volunteer to go back to the city, he'd known so much. Maybe he was just made that way? Or it was some sort of thing they'd invented. It had been a long time.

"There's a few of us that'll be happy to see you," Glenn spoke, casually walking beside you as the other two paired off behind you.

You swallowed the tensing of your shoulders, the last time you'd been in a group it hadn't ended well, and every time before that too actually. You didn't meld well with groups, let's just say that.

"I don't think so," you hummed, remembering so far back in your brain that day -the eyes all set on you, strong and decisive. You couldn't imagine who else survived other than Rick Grimes himself. Because this world wasn't what you expected, you shouldn't have survived more that a week... but here you were.

Glenn didn't say anything else, you assumed he noticed your more pressed tone -as the opposite of an invitation to keep talking. It stung a bit, watching the man's face solemn considerably, but there was also a sick part of your brain that had been waiting for this day.

As you approached the new community, Glenn spread out his hands -with a voice close to an announcer, "Welcome to Alexandria!"

Alexandria was big, bigger than you thought really. When you pictured the homes, there was bordered up windows and broken glass -blood stained into the wood. But these?

They were almost pristine.

Your head spun as you made your way through the gate, Glenn casually guiding you through the space without much forethought. It seemed he'd known this daze, he'd experienced it himself, maybe?

You knew how this world was, Alexandria seemed to be a new wave of something fresh.

Actually, you'd seen signs once or twice but never pursued it. Things like that didn't quite work in this world, you were scared of what it may truly have been. But Glenn had brought you hear with the promise of a bed to sleep in, so you assumed whatever kinks were there had already been worked out.

Or maybe you hoped they would.

In your haze, you hadn't noticed the two other members bump ahead -headed straight for a particular place, you assumed. Nor did you really notice Glenn kind of easily navigating in front of you.

Until, you heard the voice you'd vowed to never hear until the day you died.

"Glenn?" the drawl was deeper now, older and a touch more dangerous, "-The others told me you brought someone back, I thought we talked about-"

"Rick," Glenn interrupted, voice steady and calm -he had been prepared for this, "-it's Y/N."

There was silence there, as you trailed your fingers along the trim of the house ever-so-gently -the dirt stained into your fingertips didn't need to smudge there. It would've ruined it.

"What?" His voice was low, and despite how much you wished you could understand the tone, you couldn't -you didn't know him.

He could be angry, in disbelief, in shock. You had no clue, instead focusing on the ivy running up the sides of some of the houses -rubbing the leaves with your thumb, muttering, "Wow."

"Y/N?"

You blinked out of your haze, stilling at the direct contact with you -it felt odd, hearing your name out of his mouth. So familiar yet, so so far off. Yet, the sting still burned deep under your skin -it would probably never go away.

Without turning around, you acknowledged him simply -direct and without much other force, "Rick."

Then the space grew even quieter, the tension laying thick into the air -you could feel it set the prickling of goosebumps on your skin.

With a heavy breath, you turned around -equipped to set your eyes on his skin.

He looked... different. His hair was much longer, curled at the nape of his neck, and he had a beard -now littered with grey. It suited him, he'd been too uptight back then, now though, he'd seemed more adjusted.

"Y/N, I-" he began, and you could hear it -the pity, the 'I'm sorry'. You couldn't take it, not from him. Not now.

It was too late, it made you want to rip your hair out. And thrash and cry and scream. Scream for all you'd lost, scream for the fear you felt that day, pushed into the woods -separated.

You spoke, pushing back the bite in your tone as much as you could, "Don't play friendly with me. I'm here for a few days, at most."

Rick's mouth snapped shut, jaw setting. He seemed frustrated, but that was hardly your problem, the whole thing was his really. He could die with that regret, aching to give an apology for his wrongdoings... and you would let him.

The area, which you now realized was slowly filtering people in, eyes all beginning to focus on you and Rick. Questioning, mostly, but you figured any pushback on Rick and you'd end up dead. So, you pushed back -the strength of your tone settling and the brush of the cold warming.

You didn't need to make enemies.

And then you heard it, a familiar voice, older than you'd expected, you'd known that voice younger... what was-

"Y/N?"

Your breath stuttered, as you spun on your feet and there he was, taller and older, "Carl? Oh my god-"

You hadn't even thought about it, that where Rick was Carl would follow. You had less than high hopes that he'd even survive this far, and yet, here he was right in front of you.

You'd known Carl early on in the group, he had been so young. Lori needed help sometimes, and she'd grown close to you, so, pretty quickly, she'd trusted you with him. In the early days, he was stuck to your side -playing games with the sticks and rocks you could find nearby, giving him comfort when his Mom seemed too far to touch -she was often like that. Her eyes were far, and her mind farther.

Without much less of an introduction, he ran to you with ease, despite the filth you must've been covered in. Especially compared to him, who seemed to be as perfectly clean as the rest of them. He ran into you, arms wrapping tight around your figure -and god, he was so much taller. You bit back a sob, how much had you missed?

"I thought you were dead," he spoke, muttering into your shoulder and his hands gripping desperately at your shirt.

You remembered the tiny version of him kicking and screaming, 'Why do they have to leave, Dad?!' He had been crying so hard his body was shaking, they practically had to tear him off you. You'd told them you'd leave in the night when he was sleeping, so it wouldn't be so hard on him. He couldn't put up as much of a fight if he wasn't there.

"You've gotten so tall," you laughed, pulling back and wiping at your eyes -gesturing to his stature.

Carl laughed too, wiping away his own tears.

You forgot for a second where you were, and how long it had been. Only reuniting with someone you cared tremendously about. The moment was bittersweet with the eyes of many sliding across your figure, the scar detailed across your arm, or maybe the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd had some run-ins, but you'd taken care of them with what you could.

The next few days were a bit stuffy, the doctor (who you didn't bother to learn the name of) had been keeping a close eye on you -consistently telling you to rest and sticking the one and only sheriff on you when you resisted.

Apparently, she thought that it was the best idea.

The single thread that didn't have you running out of this place wore a sheriff's hat and seemed to relish in your arrival. Carl had been by your side frequently, introducing you to practically everyone (including Glenn's wife, Maggie, what-) -which you had originally been strictly against, but the kid was your soft spot.

You'd felt more at ease after a run-in with two familiar faces, Daryl and Carol. They both did similarly to Carl, and you couldn't seem to fault them too much. Not at that moment anyway. It was midday and Carl had run off with some people his own age, which you refused to separate him from that. It was important, he needed it.

And you needed something too.

The space felt cramped, with someone constantly looking over your shoulder and someone else always in your area. It was a far cry from your previous loner life where your days fell to silence and the slice of whatever your blade was echoed through it. Before Glenn, you hadn't spoken out loud in months.

So, with new energy from the hot water and regular meals, you'd found yourself roaming the streets towards the fence. Just for a sense of normalcy, you needed to taste the adrenaline, feel the blade in your hands, and the urgency in your movements. Dancing with death.

Trying to watch your back, you kept your eyes behind you -ducking behind some of the unused houses that you'd scouted out earlier in the day. It wasn't like you were leaving forever, just a few hours that's all you needed.

"And where are you going?"

You jumped, turning to the sound in front of you, and because god simply hated you it happened to belong to one Rick Grimes. His eyes leveled with you, standing confidently in your way like he'd expected you. And shit, maybe he had.

Stammering, you regained your composure, "Where's Carl?"

"Asleep," he responded with ease.

"Look, I'm not-" you groaned, "-Why are you keeping me here like a prisoner?"

"Doctor told me to keep an eye on ya," he answered, once again too prepared, it infuriated you to no bounds, "-you don't think I'd notice you scopin' out an exit?"

"That's not-" you straightened your posture, pressing your lips into a thin line, "I don't have to explain myself to you. So, kindly, if you would get out of my way, I'll be back in an hour."

Rick chuckled, not in a really joyful way either, neither of you was quite joking, "Yeah, not happenin'."

"Rick," you echoed, tone ice and hand tightening on where your blade rested on your hip -a handmade hilt someone had made you a long time ago, "-move, or I'll make you."

He paused, licking a line across his teeth, and slowly making his way into your space. Your breath caught in your throat, but you stayed strong in your place -eyes set on his and shoulders set in place. He didn't speak until his face was right in yours, a breath away, and his expression remained unchanged -his eyes only betraying the heaviness of his words, "Try me."

Rick didn't reach for his gun, which sat with was at his hip -inches from his hands. You knew he wouldn't pull it on you, it wasn't in his character, but there was a chill in his tone -something new.

What happened to him?

You washed out the worry that settled under your skin for a second, that didn't need to be there. He'd abandoned you -they all had.

Setting your jaw, you exhaled -pulling back and letting your hand fall to your side, "Look, I just need an hour."

Rick stared at you, you couldn't read him -years of age, and most likely tragedy by the missing faces, gracing features you once knew. And even then, he was new -you hadn't known him.

"This place is-" you faltered off, looking back to the houses, where most lights were switched off in the dark -except for just a few spare ones, "-suffocating. I've been on my own for so long, I feel like I'm having an out-of-body fucking experience here. This isn't... I need something familiar."

He still hadn't said a word.

"So," you began, strong, before deflating, "-just let me kill some of the dead, yeah?"

Rick pursed his lips, before sighing deep and heavily, "Okay."

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, before the words set in, "Okay?"

"Just let me tell Michonne and Daryl I won't be around for a bit," he continued, seeming to waltz on past you, and then those words hit you.

"Rick, I don't need a babysitter," you answered, that lick of bitterness slinking through your skin again -your mouth opened before you could stop it, "-you weren't worried years ago, were you? Why now?"

He stopped in his motion, frozen solid by your words. A part of you felt vindicated, he deserved it -it may have been years for him, but that was the way your way in this world had started.

You hadn't expected him to speak, but he did.

"You can't do that."

A flash of frustration hummed under your skin -burning hot and bright -who was he to say anything to you, "I can't do that? Do what? Talk about what you did to me? The day you kicked me to the curb at the beginning of the fucking apocalypse...?"

"I've been tryin' to apologize since you got here-" he started, tone angry in the way of hands shaking not voice raising, "-you won't let me."

Something in you snapped.

"So what?" you started, tone shaky and you'd say it was for rage but you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, "You think I want an apology from you?"

Rick looked lost then, and something in you begged to keep going. The dam was cracked now, and the water could flood out -who better than the man who hit the nail in the coffin, "What...?"

"You, you don't get the resolution that would get you. You don't get to sleep well at night because you said sorry, no."

He didn't speak.

You laughed, the tears were free now, years of being locked behind something as thick as the shell you wore after that day -your breaths were ragged and you felt like maybe your heart would be out of your chest, "I never wanted to live through this."

"Y/N-"

And there was something there in those words, heavy and gravelly against the cool night air. But you couldn't dwell on it. You had too much to say to him, to all of them really, but just him would do.

"No," you exhaled, taking a deep shaky breath in, "-Rick, I just need to know one thing."

He opened his mouth, assumedly to answer your question, but you still couldn't let him speak. Your brain was going so fast, you had to keep up.

"Did you ever ask them why?"

Rick spoke then, slowly, "Who?"

"Shane," you spoke, the air seemed to get heavier, "-and Lori. Did it never seem odd to you that it came out at the same time? That they'd both seen me that exact same day?"

Rick stilled, and his jaw seemed to set.

That was what had gotten you kicked out, Shane and Lori had alleged you'd taken more supplies for yourself -stolen from everyone. You weren't sure of the specifics, whether it be an extra graham cracker or a tissue to wipe your busted lip, as you didn't let them get too far into it. They'd been egging him on, Shane on some sort of masculine level and Lori using their love as a pawn -you'd seen it clear as day. Rick hadn't.

"I was going to tell you," you spoke quietly, barely a brush over the wind of the chillier nights.

He didn't have to ask what. He knew you assumed he had known pretty much immediately after you noticed their absences. Something had happened, maybe not long after you'd left. You could only assume so much.

"I didn't know," he echoed out, his voice strained in a way you'd never heard from him -pained, regretful.

Without much else, you turned back the way you came -voice steady and strong across the space between you two, "I know."

[ruewrote]

𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: some strong language GENRE: angst, fluff, friends to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: worst of you by maisie peters WORD COUNT: 1k

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you stood at the end of the dock, at your spot. the tip of your shoe skimming the surface of the water, shivering at the cool breeze that brushed past you.

wrapping your arms tighter around your body, searching for any type of warmth and comfort as you checked the notifications on your phone for what felt like the fifteenth time that hour, some were from pope and sarah but none from jj.

he promised he'd be here this time! you should've known.

this was the third time in two weeks that you would make plans and something had come up, his empty promises filled you with hope, only for him to be a no-show.

the sun was now setting. tears stung your eyes, sniffling whilst looking down at the ripples of the water finding no interest in doing what you were originally here to do.

"im so stupid, i really thought he was going to be here." shaking your head, more tears fell down your cheeks as you stood.

the walk home was absolutely miserable and the rain that had started to drizzle didn't help either. the few drops turned into heavy showers, having felt there was no need for an umbrella earlier on your clothes were now soaked right through down to your underwear.

opening your front door you were greeted by your excited sister waiting for all the juicy details, knowing that you were gonna confess and helped you get ready for the occasion too.

the tears that had once subsided now came flooding back, she just wrapped you up in a firm hug as you sobbed in her arms.

after you had calmed a little she sat you down asking you what happened or if he had rejected you, but you just explained how he never showed up. how he never even sent you a text about it?

"im gonna kick his ass! who even does that? no, no, no let me rephrase that. when has jj ever done that? especially to you of all people!"

that got you thinking, obviously, him not showing was really hurtful in general, but at the same time, it confused you since this was the boy who wouldn't let you carry your school bag as long as he was around or would bring you your favorite coffee in the morning even if he was late.

for the next couple of days, you avoided jj, which wasn't hard since he had different classes than you that week. the times that you guys did bump into each other you either made up an excuse or joined the sea of people who were rushing to get to their next lesson.

this had been far from easy for you, there hadn't really been a time when the two of you weren't together.

now you're here, sitting by yourself in the library doing your history project here since your laptop decided to stop working halfway through.

hours had gone by and you had made a ton of progress on your work, now sitting back and taking a long sip out of your water bottle as you proofread what you had written only to be interrupted by a loud bang from the entrance of the building, making you jump and turn to investigate.

a mistake on your part since you made direct eye contact with the mad blonde. ducking your head, gathering your things together before logging off seeing if there was any way of sneaking past him.

"what have you been?" fuck.

you tried to ignore and walk around him but were only pulled back to face him by your arm. gentle, his touch was so light like it always had been. he'd never hurt you. no matter how angry he got.

"answer me!" jj exclaimed, only to be shushed by the librarians.

everyone was now looking at the two of you, so you grabbed his hand, dragging him out of there. of course only for it to be pouring again.

"you have the audacity to be trying to call me out on this when you've ghosted me for almost a whole week and then expected us to just go back to normal? like everything's okay between us?" you scoffed, running your hands through your hair, huffing out a laugh.

"i was...busy, i couldn't help it! im sorry okay?"

having heard enough of his shit you walked out into the cold with jj following close behind you.

"y/n talk to me!" he shouted over the loud pattering, stopping you in your tracks, whipping around to face him.

"do you know why i asked you to go to our place the other day?"

he just shook his head.

"i have yearned for you for years, in secrecy and silence." your voice was almost a whisper, but he heard you.

"what?"

"its you jj, its always been you... im in love with you." both of your chests heaving heavily, finding it hard to catch your breath in the rain. tears filled your eyes as you tried to look everywhere but him. his stare felt almost too much.

"but you never said anything?" jjs voice broke as his own tears caressed his cheeks but were quickly wiped away by the raindrops.

"how could i? you're looking at me but you don't see me jj. do you know how that feels? i just want you to see me. please."

that's when he strode toward you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him, your arms wrapping around his neck. tilting his head to the side as his lips brushed against yours.

his hands slid to your lower back, deepening the kiss. reaching up you intertwined your fingers in his hair lightly pulling at the wet strands, a muffled groan left him which only made you smile as you pulled away.

"i love you too, by the way, i didn't know if i made that clear or not?" jj joked which only made you playfully punch him.

the next day the two of you were both cuddled up in your bed sniffling, very sick from stupidly standing in a literal storm yesterday, but hey it was totally worth it in the end.

© ruewrote.

[vecnuthy]

winner winner ☕️🍫

A cute little pre-steddie holiday-themed cooking competition with a hint of ronance | wc: 999 | G | cw: food | late entry for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 6: cooking together |

"Look, it's not my fault you're gonna lose," Eddie said slyly, his chin rested on the palm of his hand.

Steve narrowed his eyes, very much ignoring Eddie's own brown eyes as they practically danced with mischief, freaking glittered with a challenge. Or maybe that was just the reflection of Christmas lights that Robin had hung up along each door frame in the Harrington house.

One of the many things that Steve had come to learn about Eddie was that he was competitive. Being a dungeon master should've been enough of an indicator, but as Eddie had become more a part of the crew, his competitiveness had become more evident. Unfortunately for Steve, the younger guy found them all -- from the shopping cart races to the surprise water gun fight -- really fucking endearing.

Even now -- especially now, as Eddie smirked up at him, smelling the proverbial blood in the water.

Or maybe "cream in the coco" would be more fitting, because the two of them were about to go head to head in the next installment of the most fearsome, epic, insane competition of the season: the Hot Chocolate War.

Many a competitor had been eliminated, thanks to the swift but fair judgment of one Nancy Wheeler. Dustin had lost to Lucas because the cinnamon had been too strong. Max had triumphed over Robin because of the peanut butter pretzel stirrer. But Steve had beaten Max because of a chocolate-covered strawberry, and Eddie had managed to barely scrape by El (who had beaten Will) with a dollop of cheesecake cream and crushed snickerdoodle.

This competition was fierce and elaborate. Steve's kitchen was covered in candies, different types of chocolate, milks, fruits, cookies -- anything and everything that could possibly pair well with chocolate was available.

This was war, and it just happened to be the final battle: Eddie vs Steve.

"It's not gonna be your fault, huh?" Steve asked, leading to Eddie shaking his head, eyes still glittering in a way that made Steve's stomach swoop. "Did you bribe the judge or something?"

"Might've tried to," he shrugged without a shred of remorse.

"I'm unshakeable," Nancy said proudly as she got resituated on her chair with the kids milling around behind her.

"But I have a plan," Eddie winked. "You'll see."

Steve hummed like a skeptic, unable to keep a smile from forming, which made Eddie's grow even larger. But Steve was competitive, too, and he had the advantage of having dated the judge once upon a time. He had a plan, too.

Then they set off.

The competition was simple, the winner determined by presentation and taste.

They both used the stove, opting to do it from scratch. Steve used whole milk, whereas Eddie used regular with half n half. The space was cramped as they both stirred a blend of chocolates into the simmering liquid.

"White chocolate with dark?" Eddie asked as he added semisweet and milk chocolates to his.

"Little bit of creamy sweet to counter the bitter," Steve said as he stirred.

"Oh, yes. Quite right. Of course," Eddie muttered with feigned impress before he playfully bumped into Steve's hip.

"You ass," Steve laughed, bumping him back before pulling his pot off the stove to whisk it vigorously.

They then set to work on assembly, their creations blocked from the other's view behind leftover pizza boxes, and then a handful of minutes later, the two presented their entries one at a time.

Steve's was gloriously rich with the whole milk, dark chocolate, and milk chocolate combo, and the half-melted candycane sticking out of it gave it a minty kick. The whipped cream was fresh and also minty, and the green sugar sprinkles on top made it all glitter like an ornament. He was confident. Mint was Nancy's favorite chocolate combination, as were the York peppermint patties straddling the rim of the mug. Nancy smiled brightly at it, bolstering Steve's confidence. He caught the knowing look Robin shot him, then smiled at the dreamy look her face melted back into when her gaze settled back onto Nancy.

And then Eddie revealed his, and Steve's stomach sank. "Oh, come on!" he whined as Nancy started to say, "Oh--"

Because Eddie's...

"--my god."

...made her and everybody else cackle.

A layer of peanut butter and cheesecake mixture supported vertical pretzel sticks topped with more of the mixture, to which coconut pieces clung, creating an edible forest. The mug held a molten helping of milk and semi-sweet hot chocolate, adorned by a piece of broken chocolate chip cookie that had a dot of cheesecake and snowy whipped cream on it to anchor a red gummy bear wearing a caramel chip for a hat. Caramel drizzle crisscrossed the cookieless part of the mug, and more gummy bears were stuck to the side, too, as if they were climbing.

Eddie twisted happily with his hands clasped behind him as he drank in the laughter and calls of it being "sick" and "awesome" and "bitchin."

"Did you top that with salt?" Nancy asked him after she took a sip.

"Sure did," Eddie grinned directly at Steve.

"That's amazing," she praised, using a spoon to eat a piece of the cookie with the hot chocolate.

Eddie mouthed "amazing" at Steve, then winked. Steve just shook his head with a grin, wanting nothing more than to tackle the idiot and squeeze him until he popped.

"Sorry, Steve," Nancy said with big apologetic blue eyes. "You know how much I love mint and chocolate, but Eddie wo--"

Eddie didn't even wait for her to completely say it before he whooped loudly and pressed a loud "MWAH" to Nancy's hair.

"Now you get to make it for everybody," she continued.

Eddie's face fell, his eyes big and pleading and pointed right at Steve.

"Them's the rules," Steve and a Robin said at the same time as the kids dug into the pretzel trees.

"I'll help you out, though," Steve winked, bringing the glitter back to Eddie's eyes.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — final part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, angst

summary: you and steve finally have the long overdue conversation that probably should've happened days before filming ended and not at the wrap party. but better late than never, right?

CHAPTER SEVEN | ❝𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆❞

“We’re in the home stretch. Tomorrow’s it.”

It was a bit difficult to pinpoint what exactly Jessie’s words did to you at that moment. On one hand, you were happy that filming would be done tomorrow because it was always satisfying seeing all of the hard work that had been done by the cast and crew get wrapped up in what felt like a pretty bow. 

And then on the other hand, from a more personal standpoint, it was hard to feel truly happy about it all because of where things currently were with you and Steve; this weird and distant place that when you thought about it too hard only confused you. You had the strongest feeling that you wouldn’t see him again, or even simply talk to him, once filming was done, and although you liked to pretend that that didn’t matter to you, you still found it hard to make peace with that fact. 

You took a long sip from your morning coffee and decided not to think about him right then. 

Jessie continued on. “And depending on how today goes, we might even be able to end a bit early tomorrow.”

The two of you were currently walking to the complete other side of set because a scene was being filmed in twenty minutes and since you weren’t needed anywhere else right then, you decided to watch.

“That’s great,” You said, nodding at her words. 

“Anyway, though, I feel like I’ve barely gotten to see you lately so I haven’t been able to tell you this, but you’ve been doing so fucking great these past three months,” She told you before taking a bite from the bagel she had in hand. “I have no idea what I would do if you weren’t coming to Europe next month.”

You let the happiness that Jessie’s words managed to hit you with wash over you— it was a nice contrast from the sadness you’d been feeling lately that you masked as indifference— and you fully embraced her words. As that next stage started getting closer you felt more and more excited for it. You were ready to be in a completely different place, far away from where it felt like your personal life was on somewhat of a downward spiral. Over the past few days, you’d come to the conclusion that you were better off keeping work as your sole priority. 

Although it had actually been simple finding some sort of work-life balance when your and Steve’s “arrangement” started and most of your evenings and nights became filled with him— you realized that you didn’t have to fully consume yourself in your work to still be good at it, and everything Jessie had just said to you only further confirmed that— now you didn’t care about having any sort of balance. Because focusing only on your current job and also what you’d be doing next in Europe made it easier to not think about anything else. And that had especially been useful this past week because you truly didn’t want to think about anything aside from work— not about Steve and how easily everything with him went to shit, not about how it all hurt you so much more than you’d allow yourself to admit, and definitely not about the lingering regret you’d been feeling although you also believed that what you’d done was ultimately for the best. 

Of course, you knew that shoving it all down and not facing it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, and perhaps a conversation between you and Steve was sorely needed, but you were upset with him, even a little angry. And then you were also equally upset at yourself, which made you really not want to say anything to him or even think about the situation. 

“Thanks, I’m a little scared but also so ready for it,” You said and then didn’t hesitate to say your next words. “I really can’t wait to get out of LA.” 

“You and me both, honestly,” Jessie said with a quick nod. Before she could say anything else, she was pulled into a conversation with the Director of Photography about her thoughts on how the scene should be set up; what kind of shots she wanted, etc. 

As they talked, you simply looked around and let yourself take everything in for a second; watching the various crew members move about, some putting final touches on the set and others talking to the handful of extras and prepping them. It was the fact that everyone was essentially working together to achieve the same vision that made you smile. 

This was what you loved, this was what you would never get tired of. It was what made it all worth it in your eyes. To you nothing was as important as being a part of this. 

Barely a second later, Steve walked onto set and your mind quickly reminded you that he was in the scene that was about to film, which immediately washed away your smile and your happiness was replaced with that familiar feeling of indifference. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had an actual conversation with him. He would really only talk to you when he needed something, and it was in those moments that you were reminded you were still his assistant, because when you were actually friends with him it didn’t really feel that way. Until two days ago when Martin, his new and more long term assistant, took over, so then actually needing things from you became a rarity. 

It didn’t take long for your gazes to meet, somehow it was still startlingly easy to lock eyes with him in a crowded room, and for the briefest of moments nothing was said or done. 

Until you gave him a small curt nod and a half smile, and then walked away, quickly deciding that being anywhere else was more important to you right then. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Production wrap parties had always been your favorite. Seeing the entire cast and crew come together to celebrate the work that had been done over the past few months always warmed your heart. It almost felt as good as watching the final product of the movie.

However, this time you couldn’t find the heart to enjoy the party like you normally would, and it was fully because of Steve. 

The party was happening in one of the Executive Producers' huge homes in Hollywood Hills, but apparently the house was not big enough for you and Steve to not see each other. There was some sort of dance of avoidance happening between you two in the expansive dining room area that the majority of the party was taking place in— walking around each other and pretending as if the other didn’t exist as you both got pulled into various conversations. That painfully went on for almost an entire hour until Steve apparently got tired of the dance and game of pretend and finally went up to you. 

You were alone, probably for the first time since you showed up at the party, and you were standing by one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows admiring the view of the city. He lightly tapped your shoulder to grab your attention, and it felt almost insane how easily you were able to tell it was him simply by his touch.

“Hey…” He said as you turned around to face him. “Can we talk?”

There was something about that three worded question that made you confused and the tiniest bit angry. 

“Now you want to talk?” You asked, keeping your voice level as you spoke because you didn’t want anyone to focus on you and him, but you still narrowed your eyes at him. “After a week of nothing but radio silence?” 

“I know, and I fully deserve you being mad at me right now,” He said softly. “But, please.”

You hated that somehow the look on his face and softness in his tone managed to loosen your resolve, making you ultimately nod at him. “Okay.”

It immediately became an unspoken understanding that this long overdue conversation couldn’t happen right here in this open space where there was potential for anyone to interrupt at any moment. And luckily right then everyone else was seemingly in a world of their own so they didn’t notice you and Steve heading down a random hallway and walking into the first room you saw. It was one of the many bedrooms that you assumed was in this house and you quickly noticed the sliding door that led to the balcony attached to the room. 

You walked out onto it and Steve followed you. After taking a quick breath, glad to have some fresh air filling your lungs because it somehow made things a bit more bearable, you looked at him. “So… let’s talk?”

You didn’t necessarily know what you expected him to say or how this conversation would begin, maybe with some unimportant and forced small talk that would feel weird because there was a point where the two of you were so far past that. However, you definitely didn’t expect him to immediately start with “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so fucking sorry for this past week, and avoiding you and pushing you away,” Steve said and you could only look at him, slightly stunned by his apologetic words. “I thought I was completely okay with what you said that night at your apartment, the last time we really talked, about us just being friends and nothing more, but…” He trailed off with whatever he was about to continue with, which made you both confused and curious. 

“What?” You asked softly, breaking through his thoughts. You desperately wanted to hear everything that was going through his mind. 

“You said that you didn’t want us to be real and that you could never see us being anything more. And I felt like such an idiot for feeling the complete opposite way,” His gaze was off of you and instead he was looking straight ahead. “And it was just too hard to see you and pretend that everything was fine.”

And there it finally was, the “why” behind him pushing you away that you had desperately wanted to know, and it was a “why” that actually made so much sense because you knew that if the roles had been reversed you would have done the same thing.  

His words, especially the first part of them, also reminded you that you weren’t completely innocent in this situation. Because what you said to him that night, which became the main reason why he’d been so distant, wasn’t true. 

“I’m really sorry too,” You said, which made him look at you again and you could see that he was confused why you were apologizing right then. “I lied… I honestly really do see it; us being more, being real. I could see it so goddamn easily sometimes and it made me want it even more. There were so many moments over that past month where it all felt too real and like everything we were doing meant something more than just sex or just a friendship. Especially when you surprised me for my birthday. That was the best thing that happened to me in a long time. And actually, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started speaking again. “Also, it was dumb of me to think that the sex part of it ending wouldn’t really matter because we’d still have the friend part and everything would pretty much stay the same. Because nothing will ever be like these past three months, and specifically the last five weeks. We’re not gonna see each other as often anymore and it’ll be rare if we’ll even be able to talk as much. It’s all gonna be so different.”

It was as if everything that you had forced yourself not to think about this past week was coming out at full force as word vomit. You had no idea how much sense any of what you were saying made, but you hoped it all would lead to some sort of point in the end. 

“Why did you lie that night?” He asked, and it was the question you should’ve been expecting to hear. 

“Every time I thought about us being more I would tell myself that us being together in that way wouldn’t make sense; our lives are so different. So, I thought it would be easier to lie to you because then you couldn’t try and convince me that somehow we do make sense together,” You answered. “But, there hasn’t been a day where I haven’t regretted lying and not taking it all back. Right when you left, I wanted to run up to you and tell you the truth.”

He glanced at you for a brief moment and then just as quickly looked away. “I wish you did.”

“I do want something more with you. I fully want something real,” You told him, letting those honest words fall from your lips for the first time ever. “But, the thought of trying something and it all ending horribly scares me so fucking much and makes me not want to even take that chance… And I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, it scares me too.”

The question of “So, where do we go from here?” lingered in the cool air and neither of you had a clear answer to it. Was it possible for the two of you to actually and solely be just friends after admitting you have feelings for each other? If you were being a thousand percent honest with yourself, you weren’t entirely sure. 

You leaned back against the closed sliding door and let your thoughts run. Things were quiet between you and Steve, but it wasn’t the awkward kind. Instead, it felt as if both of you were fully consumed by your own thoughts right then and neither of you really knew what to say. And then, at the same time, you two also didn’t want whatever this moment was to end just yet. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but also the complete opposite, you spoke. “I’m kinda just realizing this now, but even though we never admitted it to each other or probably even thought about it ourselves, I think we were in some sort of a real relationship. Because honestly the only thing missing was the label; we were doing practically everything else two people in a relationship would do. And I think that’s why you avoiding me and barely talking to me felt so much more devastating than I’d like to admit. It felt like the worst break up, and I never want that to happen again.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments. It was easy to tell that he was thinking, fully letting everything you just said sit with him. You didn’t have to fully verbalize it for him to know what you wanted, and more specifically what you didn’t want. 

“You’re right,” He finally said, eyes meeting yours. “This past week has been so shitty. I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you too. I was also mad at you and confused, but I really did miss you.”

“How badly did I ruin our friendship?”

You shook your head at his question. “Not bad enough. In my eyes, you’re still my best friend.”

“You’re mine too,” He said and then after a beat of silence said his next words. “Let’s just keep it that way.”

You only looked at him for a second before asking, voice soft and quiet, “Are you sure?”

You didn’t want him agreeing to something that only you saw as right and things ending up just like they had before. You knew that you couldn’t bear the past week having any kind of a part two. 

Steve nodded at you. “Yes, I think we’d be better off as friends. I want you in my life forever.”

“I hope you know what it means now that you just said that,” You told him, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re never getting rid of me.” 

He smiled at you, it was the kind of smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever from him and you’d forgotten how much you missed it. You got the sudden urge to kiss him, which startled you because this, what you two just decided on, didn’t involve that, and you quickly realized that it would be hard to learn to not want that even a little bit anymore.  

You pushed away everything you were feeling and then closed a bit of the space between you two and held out your pinky. 

“This is super childish and cheesy but let’s promise to not let this end,” You said. You knew it was dumb, but the idea actually helped to make you feel the tiniest bit better about everything. “Y’know, promising to stay friends forever and all that stuff you say at, like, summer camp.” 

“Okay, deal,” Steve nodded as he linked his pinky with yours.  

You smiled at him. “I take pinky promises very seriously, by the way. So, this cannot be broken, Steven.” 

He laughed a bit. “Don’t worry, I also take them seriously.”

“Good to know.”

Even though pinkies were linked and you did really believe that this was the best decision to make, deep down inside of you, you wished that the circumstances could be different. That the two of you were the same people, but in completely different situations. You wished for something cheesy and Hallmark-like, something easy, where there wasn’t distance or work that made things so much harder than how they should’ve been for you two. 

And then there was even a part of you that wanted to say fuck it because why not try? Even if you and him ended up crashing and burning in the end, at least you wouldn’t have to live with the never-ending “what ifs,” no matter how short-lived the relationship was. 

But, in your mind, the cons severely outweighed the pros and you knew that it wasn’t worth it and you couldn’t allow yourself to risk it; you needed to play it safe. Your friendship with him was more than enough; it was hard to even remember the last time you had a friendship that felt as important as this one.

Therefore, you instead decided to find solace in the thought that in another life, in a completely different universe, no stupid outside forces were preventing you from being together— not even your overthinking mind could stop it— and the two of you were happy.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: pls don't hate me for how this ended lmao there will be an epilogue. i repeat. there will be an epilogue! (it wasn't planned at first but i decided i didn't want to completely end it here) so i'll see yall next week for the actual final part of this series<333

final part!

[starfried]

Through and Through (Part 2)

ACK FINALLY. i wrote this, stared at it, and immediately HATED IT so i deleted it all and rewrote it!! reader and law get to hang out for a little bit. still takes place when law is 13, i don't have a set age for the reader but i'm imagining 11/12. next part will be longer and you'll get to see them actually be friends!

hopefully next part is out on thursday xP

slowburn, childhood friends to lovers, multipart, gn reader, no use of (y/n)/(name).

wc: 2.2k. part 1

After watching Wolf drive away, you anxiously pace around your empty living room. There's still time to prepare for school, but you're too unsettled from last night's events. The seriousness of the situation is beginning to bear down on you. Without the aid of that peculiar group of boys (and a polar bear), you're certain you would be dead and frozen by now.

You sigh, flopping onto your flimsy couch. You hadn't appreciated their efforts enough at the time. You wish you had anything of value to give them as thanks. You could dig through the cabinets and boxes in your home to find something, but you're sure you'd only find trinkets and old clothes. Maybe you could use your grocery budget for the week to buy them something in town. Ooh, there was a bakery that opened up recently! You haven't tried it yourself, but you remember your classmates raving about how good it was.

With a new goal in mind, you put your boots and jacket back on and head towards the door. Despite the ache in your ankle, you don't let it deter you. Remembering Law's reprimand from yesterday, you decide to also grab your scarf. However, as your hand hovers over it, you can't help but hesitate. Is this really a good idea? The boys you're seeking out were quite intense. You have no idea how they will react to you showing up with treats. Despite your doubts, you shake your head and recall your mother's advice about repaying kindness. With the oversized, frayed scarf now wrapped around your neck, you head out with a sense of nervous anticipation.

~~~~~

You sat on a bench outside the clinic, knowing that the boys worked in different places: a restaurant, a salon, a factory, and a clinic. In this city, there was only one clinic, making it the obvious choice. As you fiddled with the end of your scarf, you tried to decide what to say. He was the easiest to find, yet he was also the most intimidating.

"So you do have a scarf."

You snap your head in the direction of Law's voice and immediately find yourself at a complete loss for words. His intense gaze makes you shift uncomfortably.

“…Did you need to see the doctor?”

“No! Well, kinda?”

He raises his eyebrow in response.

“Um. I was waiting for you.”

He seems just as confused by this.

“Why?” He asks. “If you needed medical attention, you should've-”

“I brought this for you. Uh. Thanks for yesterday.” You interrupt him, awkwardly holding the basket out. “Well, it's for all of you guys, but you were the easiest to find.”

His brows furrow together as he looks between you and the basket.

“…I'm good.” He simply says, leaving you confused.

“Huh?”

“I said I'm good.” With that, he continues his trek back to the outskirts of town.

“You didn't even look inside the basket!” You protest, limping after him.

“I don't need to!” He practically hisses out, “I don't want your thanks! I didn't help you out expecting payment! What kind of doctor would I be if I just left you there to die?”

You watch him go, face twisted in frustration. Guess you'll have to find one of the other boys after all.

~~~~~

That evening, Law sat sprawled on their couch, flipping through a newspaper. The rhythmic sound of Shachi chopping vegetables was almost enough to lull him to sleep.

"Is Bepo still not here?" Penguin asks as he strides down the stairs. Law glances up at the clock. Huh. It's pretty late late already.

As if on cue, Bepo comes bursting through the door.

“Guys! I brought snacks!" He chirped. Penguin practically leapt over the bannister to get a better look at the basket of goods. Shachi wasn't far behind him, completely abandoning his cooking.

“Oh, is this from that bakery by the restaurant I work at?" Penguin asks, immediately shoving his hand into the basket.

"I dunno. I didn't buy any of it. It was actually a gift! I ran into that kid from yesterday."

Law practically slams his newspaper down at this.

"That dumbass that fell asleep in the snow?” Law asks through gritted teeth.

"Yeah! They said they had way more than they could eat, and I could take some home for us. Hey, don't take all the croissants!" He directs that last part towards Shachi, who was trying to hoard as many pastries as he could.

Law can't let this stand. He has to return the favor. Not out of compassion or appreciation, but due to his inherent pride. He saw how worn your boots were, how your jacket didn't fit quite right, how your scarf seemed as old as you were. He doesn’t have to get to know you to know you couldn't afford those treats without some kind of sacrifice.

"Weird. There's so much. More for us, though!” Law let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the couch. Of course you had to run into Bepo. He was the easiest to convince out of all of them.

“You guys have off tomorrow too, right?” He asks his friends. “Do you guys want to go fishing?”

~~~~~

The four boys admire each other's haul on the edge of the river.

“Damn. Maybe we should go pro and be fishermen.” Penguin suggests, a smug grin on his face.

“You caught way less than the rest of us!” Shachi chides.

“But I'm the one with the biggest catch!”

Law ignores their bickering, choosing instead to focus on gutting and cleaning the fish in his pile.

“You guys go ahead and head back. I need to run an errand in town.” He suddenly announces.

“I can take your fish back for you!” Bepo offers.

“It's fine. I'll be back by dinner.” The three other boys watch him leave. They're confused, but they shrug it off. Law is just like that.

Meanwhile, you sat in your home, sprawled out on the floor. In front of you were various school assignments, each in varying stages of completion. Maybe skipping school yesterday wasn't the best idea…

As you're nodding off on top of your math homework, the sound of someone harshly knocking on your door suddenly jolts you back to reality.

You wonder who that could be. When was the last time someone knocked on your door? Maybe it was one of your classmates? You trudge towards the door, cautiously cracking the door open.

Despite being the one who knocked, Law seems just as surprised to see you as you are to see him. He shrugs it off, the scowl you know so well returning to his face.

“I don't appreciate you going behind my back like that.”

“…How do you know where I live?” Is all you can think to say.

He rolls his eyes, “I asked around. Anyways, here.” He unceremoniously shoves a bucket towards you, avoiding the contact.

It's full of… fish?

“I figured you wasted what few berries you had on those pastries. Which was dumb, by the way.” He wasn't wrong; you *were* broke for the week.

“Were they good?”

You don't care about the fish. Like Law, you weren't expecting to be repaid. You just thought it was the right thing to do. You just hope they enjoyed it.

Law stares you down, the bucket still in his hand. “I didn't eat any. I hate baked sweet things.”

“Oh…” You try your best to hide your disappointment, but it's obvious by the way your face falls. There was no way you could've known he didn't like pastries. Law’s jaw tightens at your crestfallen look.

“…Everyone else liked them, though,” He admits gruffly. Despite his rough exterior, Law still has a heart. He's far from happy with the situation, but his goal today wasn't to tear you down. His words do bring you some comfort, but you're still torn. You had wanted to show your appreciate to him especially.

A moment of silence washes over the two of you. Tentatively, you open your door all the way, allowing Law a look into your home.

“Would you want to come in?"

“Wh-what?”

“I can cook for us! It’s only fair that you get to eat some too, since you went through the effort of catching these.”

Law lets out a sigh. The whole reason why he did this was because he stubbornly refused to accept your ‘thanks’.

“No, I just-”

“If you stay, I'll consider us even. Then we won't have to keep going back and forth like this anymore.”

He seriously considers your offer. His plan was to just drop the fish off and leave. Part of him feels guilty; he's nothing to you, why are you so determined to do something nice for him? Another part of him is skeptical. Are you just trying to get something out of him?

Ultimately, he chooses to swallow his feelings. He knows if he refuses, you'll be chasing after him trying to give him more gifts. He'd rather go along with your little plan than constantly have to ward off your advances.

“Okay.”

You beam at him. You weren't expecting to actually say yes! You step to the side, letting him enter. He hesitates, glancing inside your home. It didn't look or sound like anyone else was there.

“You can leave your shoes on, it's pretty drafty in here.”

He reluctantly follows you inside, carefully taking in his surroundings.

You shoot him an apologetic look. “Sorry about the dust, there's a lot of empty space in here. Oh, and the papers. I was doing my homework when you knocked.”

“On the ground?”

“Yup!” You take the bucket from him, and practically skip into the kitchen. It's been so long since you've had someone over!

Law awkwardly situates himself at the dining table as you rummage around the kitchen.

“Besides the fish, I only have rice. Is that okay?”

“That's… fine.” Seems his hunch was right; if it weren't for the fish he brought, you wouldn't have anything else to eat. “Do your parents not buy food?”

“Um… my parents aren't around anymore.”

“Oh.” He didn't know what else to say to that. He knows more than anyone how shitty that feels. Still, he didn't feel it was his place to offer sympathies to you. Instead, the two of you sit in silence as you continue cooking in the kitchen.

Finally, you bring two bowls into the dining room. It's a simple meal, just rice and seasoned fish, but it smells good enough. While Law pokes at his portion, you waste no time digging in.

“I never see you at school.” You say suddenly, mouth still full of rice. He decides not to comment on your lack of manners.

“I don't go to school.”

“Really?! I couldn't imagine not going to school.” At one point in his life, neither could he. When he doesn't say anything, you move on to your next topic.

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Really?”

“Why the hell would I lie about that?”

You shrug, earning an eye roll from him.

“What about your friends?”

“Is this an interrogation?”

You grin. You push aside your empty bowl and lean onto the table, propping your head up with your hand.

“I'm just curious. I thought you guys were these weird feral kids that lived in the woods, but you guys are actually pretty nice!”

“I'm not nice.”

You raise your eyebrow, but choose not to argue. “Bepo's really nice.”

“I can't believe you tracked him down after I walked away from you.” He would never admit it, but he was a little impressed with your determination.

You chuckle. Of course you weren't going to take no for an answer!

Somehow, you both manage to maintain a steady conversation. You talk about his work, your school, and what you each do for fun. He even tells you a little about his friends!

Eventually, Law is the one to glance up at the clock in the doorway. He has to do a double take when he sees the time.

“Is your clock right?”

“It should be?”

“Shit! I have to go. I should've been back over an hour ago.” He quickly stands up, heading towards the door. You stumble out your chair to follow him.

“Wait! At least let me say thank you for the fish!”

He hesitates at the door. “Y-yeah. Make sure you don't let it go to waste. Oh, and, uh. The food you made wasn't too bad.” That was the closest to a compliment you would be getting from him.

“Maybe I'll see you around?”

“...Maybe.” And with that, he was out the door. You peer out the window and watch him hastily wipe snow off his bike before pedaling off.

Shutting the door, you step over your long-forgotten homework and flop back onto the couch. Today was a good day, you think. Law wasn't nearly as scary as he looked and acted.

You hope you get to see him again soon

[from-now-on-im-switzerland]

>They Love Baseball.

Jasperxf¡reader

>quick note, I could've done so much better with this if I started from scratch but this was from my fic I'm writing on Wattpad. I took out a lot because there's so much context needed for it to be understandable, so this is like a simplified one-shot.

>Reader and her friends playing Baseball at school with the Cullens.

>Post breaking dawn (aka vamp Bella)

>Also Jasper has better control over his thirst now.

>Reader is a new(ish) student and doesn't know of the Cullen's...situation🧛🏻"

°Reader's Pov°

I walked up to the classroom door only to see everyone was already in there..and the anxiety set in. Fuck. I walked past the door hoping to merlin that sir didn't see me while I built up the courage to go in. I stood against the wall of my classroom as I heard the rejester, my name being called and there being no response, only increasing my feeling. This is why I always try and make an effort to get to school early..so I'm not the last in with everyone staring at me. Don't get me wrong, I am so not keen on the cramped halls and all the loud voices but it beats me awkwardly strolling into class late, having to give an excuse to the teacher and bypass all my classmates to my seat.

I removed my hands away from my face as a comfortable wave of calmness infiltrated my emotions. The anxiety was washed away and the fear was replaced with subtle confidence. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes only to notice Jasper by my side leaving about an inch of space between us.

"Jasper?" I said, relieved to see him again. After we became somewhat friends, he and his siblings weren't in school for a good week.

"Are you okay?" he asked, somewhat concerned. By now, he had placed his hand on the small of my back. My breath hitched at the contact, but ultimately returned to normal as my eyes met his.

"Uhm..yeah, I'm okay now. Thanks." I said, pretending not to be unbelievably relieved to see him. "where have you been?" I asked, the curiosity taking over me.

"Sorry, me and my family went camping for the week. I should've said, but it was pretty last minute." he said, a little smile playing at the corner of his lips when he talked.

"It's..it's okay. Just missed you that's all" I said, oddly confident.

He smirked, and his eyes darkened slightly. "Missed you too. C'mon let's get inside." he said, taking my hand and bringing me through the threshold of the door.

"Oh, there you are" Sir simply said. I felt the calmness fading and the anxiety slowly creeping back. "Try not be so late would you?" he asked as I took my set next to Jasper "Yes..sorry sir, I had a flat tire" I lied, but he seemed to buy it as he finished marking me in and continued the lesson. My friend, Glenn, sat on the other side of me and he nudged me slightly. "Hey are you alright? I saw you walk past the classroom just then..is everything good?" he asked.

"No..yeah I'm fine I just got a little nervous is all, nothing to fret over" I said, smiling timidly.

Jasper cleared his throat. "everything alright?" he asked, tucking his chair in a little, a hint of worry still lacing his words. I smiled at him "Yeah, thank you for helping out" I said back, my voice barley above a whisper, but he heard me still.

"Anytime, Y/n/n" he said, his smile returning.

Glenn shuffled in his seat, seeming uncomfortable. "you good?" I asked as he gained my attention. He smiled sheepishly "never better, just a little bit cold is all" he said.

Jasper rolled his eyes and started to work again.

☬⚊𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐩⚊𝐏.𝐄⚊☬

We all lined up outside the changing rooms, but first the teacher (Miss Leigh) did the register.

"OK guys, you'll be playing different sports, we'll have two teams for baseball, and 2 teams for volleyball, so after you're all changed, please get into groups of 6" Miss Leigh said, gripping her clipboard, ready to asses the students who needed to be. Glenn, Jess, Luke, Bradley, Isla and I, had all locked eyes as if we silently agreed that we were a team.

"Alright guys stop talking and get changed!" She ordered, shoving everybody inside their designated changing room.

Me, Glenn, Jess, Isla, Luke and Bradley were a team and we had to play against Jasper, and his family at a game of Baseball.

The Cullen's had brought all of the equipment over to the pitch, Jasper dropped the bag of bats at my feet, "you guys bat first" he said. I picked up a bat, and rested it on my shoulders. Not gonna lie, I felt like Harley Quinn.

"That's alright, i'm the one with the wicked curveball" I said, swinging the bat back around, immitating a hit.

"Oh well, I think we can handle that.." he smirked.

Glenn came up from behind me, again, and rested his arm around my shoulder. I very slowly and slyly shook his arm off, I didn't want to seem too rude, Glenn has only ever been kind to me so far.

"Is Hale bothering you Y/n?" He asked.

"No Glenn, Jasper isn't bothering me, we were just talking.." I said, smiling at him.

"Got a problem?" Jasper asked, raising his arms slightly.

"Don't start, can we just play baseball please?" I said, walking off. I got into position when Luke came over to me. "Y/n, just a warning...The Cullens...they love baseball" Luke said, randomly.

"Okay, and?" I asked, a smile tugging on my lips.

"They're very competitive" Luke said, seeming like he was putting it simply.

Right..

Bradley took a bat, and I swear I heard some laughing as if they thought this first round was going to be so easy. Alice did a really weird but really cool looking bowl, it was kinda attractive not gonna lie...

Anyways, Bradley struck the ball as hard as she could sending it flying across the field. About two of Jaspers teammates went after it, while Bradley sped around the pitch and made a home run.

She made her way through our team, with high fives, hugs and fist bumps, until Luke was the last person to congratulate her. She couldn't decide what to do, she went to hug him but then swiftly rose her hand to high five him, only to change her mind again to a fist bump. Luke slowly put her arm down "Well done, Brads.." he said through small giggles, subconsciously not letting go of her hand.

' OH YES! They don't call me Y/n, Little Miss Match Maker for nothing! Wait..no one calls me that..nevermind...still cute tho. '

Edward, who was nearby, threw his head back, laughing.

' I swear to God, if this man conviently laughs at another thing that I think, then i'm officially convinced he's inside my mind '

"Are we playing Baseball or what? Edward, stop laughing and focus!" Rosalie hissed.

At that point I understood what Luke had meant before.

"Alright babe, it's just a game!" Emmett said smirking.

Jess picked up the bat and waited for Alice to bowl her the ball. We all took our turns, some attempts were more successful than others..and in total we got a score of 4 home runs.

Time to switch.

We all started walking to the opposite sides of the pitch and into each other's previous positions. I went to hand over my bat to Jasper and just as he was about to take it, I dropped the bat his feet. "Your turn, cowboy.." I said, trying to hide my amused smile.

He kicked the bat up into his hands and caught it "That's alright, i'm the one with the wicked curveball" he said, mocking my accent.

I laughed a little before attempting his "Yeah well, I think we can handle that.."

He hid his laughter and headed to stand by the rest of his family.

Glenn and Isla briefly squabbled over being pitcher before Isla gave up and joined me in fielding. Glenn got ready to serve the ball to Emmett, nowhere near matching Alice's bowl, but still throwing it with a lot of force. Emmett held the bat with one hand and kept his eye one the ball. His family egging him on, as they were lined up behind him.

Out of nowhere, just as Glenn served, there was a crash, someone's car had rolled down the hill of the car park. Almost everyone's eyes had gravitated toward the truck, so no one was really paying attention, including me.

"Y/N LOOK OUT!" I heard Alice shout from across the pitch.

I snapped my head back around to see what she was talking about, until for a split second I saw the ball that Emmett had hit, fly straight toward my face. I braced myself, scrunching up my nose and bringing my hands up to shield my face. Only for a different hand to reach out infront of me, and catch the ball before it even touched me.

Jasper.

He threw the ball back over to Emmett, aggressively, purposefully hitting him in the chest. "Watch it." Jasper warned, Emmett held up his hands jokingly in surrender.

Jasper turned back to me. "Don't get distracted next time, alright" he said, winking before jogging back over to join Edward in their line up.

I didn't even get to say thank you.

"So am I out then?" Emmett questioned, throwing his arms up. The ref had walked off, either out of boredom or to sort out the car. Probably the latter.

Emmett threw the ball to Glenn, then sat down anyways with Rosalie.

Glenn then served to Bella. Bella swung the bat with one hand and hit the ball all the way into the forest, before speeding off around the pitch.

I ran after it. 'what sort of main character moment was that?' I thought, running to catch up with the ball.

I picked it up after it landed ahead of me and saw Bella approaching the home base.

"LUKE!" I yelled, to give him a heads up.

I built up all my strength and launched the ball forward. It was now Bella Vs the ball. Which one would make it to home base first? Bella looked up and saw the ball, and tried her best to run as fast as she could.

Luke caught the ball and placed it on home base, just as Bella had reached there.

"...You're out.." The game's ref noted, walking back out of nowhere with a pencil in her ear.

I walked back over to my team and celebrated with them.

'How's that for a main character moment? ' I thought, sarcastically. 'Guess she just wasn't fast enough.'

Edward quickly faced the other direction and shook his head, smiling.

Bella went and sat down next to Rosalie. Rosalie smirked as she saw her walking over to her and said something along the lines of "How did it feel being you this time?"

Jasper was up next. He span the bat around in his hands, hitting the end of it away from him, then catching it the right way up, swirling it in small circles behind his head. Something about that caught me so off guard...he did that and I was instantly trying to somehow stop the butterflies deep in my stomach as if they were gonna burst out at any moment. I snapped back to reality replaying his 'don't get distracted' in my mind. He hit the ball with force and sped off around the pitch I watched the ball fly towards me at full pace several feet above me in the air. I ran with it, trying to maybe catch it. It lowered and I jumped backwards, determined to catch it. And I did.

I held the ball up as he was about 5 feet away from home base. He turned and saw me walking back, baseball in hand and couldn't help but look to his feet and smirk. He walked to his team, and sat down with Rosalie, Emmett, And Bella not taking his eyes away from me.

I threw the ball to Glenn gently, and winked at Jasper. His signature smirk appeared and he looked down sheepishly.

"Didn't get distracted.." I said to myself, returning to my position. And he looked up, as if he heard me.

We played a few more rounds for the rest of the lesson, the Cullens ended up beating us, only by two though! And apparently that was the closest anyone's ever been so...it's a personal win.

While taking a sip of some of Bradley's water, Jasper walked over to me. "Good game, hotshot.." he said, looking me up and down.

"Well, I'm more than just a pretty face, cowboy" I said, taking a step forward.

"Are you sure about that?" He quizzed, tilting his head to examine my face.

"Oh I'm sure, I wiped the floor with your ass..well not the floor...the grass really" I said, reffering to my catch.

"Really? Last I checked..we did beat you guys?" He said, looking behind him at his family.

"Still, we came rather close..best competition you've had? " I questioned.

"and how would you know that? You're still new here sweetheart." he teased.

I titled my head and squinted my eyes slightly in response to his „sweetheart„

"What's with the nicknames, darling?" I teased him, calling him out.

"I- uh..what? You call me Cowboy all the time and plus, am I not allowed to call you nicknames now? You seemed to like it before..you're cheeks would go red and you'd hide your smile. Don't you trust me? Don't you appreciate me? you seemed to this morning.."

"Did i? Or did you give me no choice?" I countered. "And why all the questions?"

"Nah, you trusted me. I could tell." he said, walking back into the sports hall. He turned around, and began walking away. His uniform clinging to the muscles on his back. "You're welcome by the way" he spoke, referring to earlier, as he continued back up and inside the hall.

[poppadom0912]

Men Suck

Characters: Kelly Severide x Sibling!Reader

Warnings: Abusive/toxic relationship, injuries, blood, hospital treatment.

Summary: Kelly finds out he should've trusted his gut.

A/N: This is kinda new for me, my first time writing a sibling fic for Kelly. Hope it's okay!

*****

Naturally, whenever you brought a boy home, Kelly played his role as your big brother a little too well, always presenting himself as all macho and scary so boys would back off and never talk to you again.

But Jacob, he was different.

The first time you formally introduced Kelly and Jacob was one night at Molly's. You just finished your shift and Kelly invited you for a free drink, something about not seeing you for weeks now due to firehouse drama.

Kelly like usual was ice cold towards the man and he had a very good reason. The moment he noticed you walking into the bar, the man close behind you, he knew something about him was off.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, his face permanently looking smug and the callouses, old scars and healing skin on his hands sent immediate alarms.

Of course, in the beginning you were as careful as could be but then a month went, then six and then a year and you and Jacob were still together and dating. But, it was seven months in when everything starting to unfold.

Your shift ran over one night and the ED was understaffed and Maggie said she needed all the nurses she could have, so she asked and without a second thought you accepted, helping through the rush of the multi-vehicle car accident.

You were completely shattered, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and to go to bed, falling into the arms of your boyfriend. Alas, it wasn't that simple.

The veins in his neck were sticking out, his knuckles white from the grip on the bottle of beer yet his face was completely straight, too straight.

No matter how valid your excuses were, he just kept going and long before you knew it, your body went limp into his arms so you wouldn't hit the floor, alerting whoever lived downstairs.

From then on, you made sure to tread very carefully every time you set foot into your shared apartment. You constantly made sure that you were home before it got too late no matter what you were doing.

Eventually, people at work started to realise you weren't being you. Suddenly, you were jittering and flinched at the smallest thing, something you never used to do. You used to be the opposite, nothing scaring you because of the tolerance you built up as a child.

Everyone in the ED was so concerned that they even looped in Dr Charles and Ms Goodwin, the psychiatrist already noticing your unusual behaviour before he was told by your concerned colleagues.

You brushed off all of their concerns, saying you were completely fine and everything was great.

Then, someone snitched. You couldn't confirm who it was but anyone who knew Kelly, which was basically the entire staff, called him and spilled the beans.

From then on, Kelly was always in your ear, constantly asking if you were okay, if you wanted to hang out with him, if you wanted to have dinner and stay the night but you always made excuses. It wasn't like Jacob would let you spend the evening with your brother anyways.

All you wanted was for this nightmare to be over and for it all to go back to normal.

*****

Last night was the worst it's ever been. You lost track of time and when you eventually came to, you felt like the reincarnation of death.

You had been left to bleed out on the floor, still dressed in the clothes you wore when you left work, your shoes still on your feet.

Groaning, mustering up all the energy you had, you pushed yourself up and tried to stay silent, trying to hear if Jacob was home but from the corner of your eyes, you could just about make out the empty shoe rack.

He literally left you to die.

Still disorientated, wincing when your body pulsated in several places, you started cursing yourself out. Why did you let it get so far? You should've left him before the second date when Kelly expressed his hatred for the man.

Your eyes dragged across the room, trying to look for anything you could use to help your situation. Still sitting on the wooden floor, you propped yourself against the armrest of the sofa so you were upright. Taking the tissue box from the coffee table, you used as much as you could before the box was empty, holding the white squares against the parts of you that were bleeding.

But, you ran out and you were still bleeding. Before long, you'd pass out against from blood loss and if no one found you, these were going to be your last moments before dying.

This was the only time you were going to be thankful for Jacob. For some reason, he had the home phone on the table besides the sofa which meant that right behind you, within your reach was a phone.

Stretching backwards, you cried out, your fingers violently shaking as you struggled to grip the phone but you were relentless, grabbing the object with all the might you had left.

Pressing in the numbers of your brothers number, you tried to keep your breathing steady as the phone started ringing. As time went on, everything got more blurry, everything hurt more and the more you wanted to close your eyes and take a quick nap.

Snapping out of your reverie, you inhaled sharply at the voice that suddenly spoke, coming from the phone laying in your grasp.

"Severide." You felt tears fall down your cheeks, your sobs echoing, causing your chest to be in immense pain as your body shook.

"Kelly." You breathed out. Just hearing his voice brought you peace and all of a sudden, everything was perfect and you could go now.

"Y/N?" Kelly said in alarm, not recognising the number on his phone but he knew that voice, not liking how you sounded though. Your cries were loud and clear through the phone and it made his heart clench. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

His questions brought the common room to a standstill. Everyone was eating brunch, having missed breakfast because of a call. All their eyes watched Kelly who was frozen in his seat, his phone to his ear.

"It was- Jacob's gone." You breathed out, trying to swallow back your tears so you could tell Kelly everything. "He- I'm hurt Kelly."

That was all Kelly needed to hear to know that Jacob did something, he hurt you. Kelly swore he never saw as much red as he did right now. To know that that scumbag lay a finger on you and he inflicted pain onto you, Jacob would be six feet under the next time next time Kelly saw him.

"Okay, I'm on my way Y/N." Kelly said, letting everyone in the room know that they needed to go. It didn't matter if it wasn't an official call because Kelly's little sister needed help and that was the only explanation needed.

*****

Driving at record speed, Kelly ran past the elevator and went up the stairs, going straight to the floor the apartment you shared with Jacob was. On the drive over, you stopped talking to Kelly and all he could think of was the worst.

Courtesy of Jacob, Kelly was denied a key to your place meaning that he had to kick in the door, kicking it repeatedly with his boot till it fell off its hinges.

Despite being unfamiliar with the layout of the apartment, Kelly ran in and felt his heart drop when his eyes found you unconscious up against the sofa.

Dropping to his knees, water building up behind his eyes, Kelly gently placed his fingers on your neck, waiting with bated breath for a pulse; letting out a sigh of relief when it was weak but it was there nonetheless.

"Y/N. Hey, open those eyes for me." Kelly whispered, pushing your hair from sticking on your forehead to behind your ears. He let his eyes scan your body, his own aching upon finding you littered in wounds, bruises and scars, some of which will permanently scar your skin.

Your groan was just about audible, Kelly's head snapping towards your head. A smile graced his lips when your eyelids fluttered, you were waking up.

"Hey, keep those pretty eyes open for me." Kelly begged you, your hand in his when Sylvie and Gabby finally entered the apartment. And your hand would stay with his until he was forced away by your colleagues at Med when you were taken to surgery.

*****

Your senses slowly came back, one by one. You easily recognised the smell, the sounds and the material of the blanket sitting on your lap and the bed you lay on.

Swallowing back a groan, you felt the needles poking in your skin. Peeling your eyes open, you blinked away any tiredness and scanned the room.

The room was dimly lit, the lights turned down so no ones sleep was going to be disturbed. Trying to move your fingers, one hand was connected to a bunch of needles and monitors while the other was being clutched in a warm hand.

Following the hand, your smiled at the salt and pepper hair. Kelly's head resting on your bed and he finally slept after god knows how long. He was still dressed in his uniform letting you know he hadn't moved an inch since your arrival.

"Kelly." You whispered, poking his cheek. "Wake up."

With a few more pokes, becoming more forceful as you went on, Kelly sat up in alarm, his eyes wide in confusion. "What, what's wro-" He cut himself off, you being the first thing he looked out.

You could physically see Kelly relax, letting out the biggest sigh of relief to see you awake and talking, way more alert than you were before.

"Gosh kid, you scared me." Kelly said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. All he wanted to do was wrap you up, keep you to himself and never let you go. His job as your older brother was to protect you and he failed.

"Men suck." You said with a slight smile, looking into Kelly's eyes that were identical to yours. "I should've listened to you."

"Don't blame yourself." Kelly shook his head, wanting you to know that you were definitely not to blame. "I should've been more annoying. Should've forced Jacob out and as far away from you."

"Don't blame yourself." You mocked Kelly, scoffing when he started to blame himself, guilt eating him up so much he was nearly drowning.

"Thank you Kelly." Your smile brightened, loving the comfort he brought he with small gestures like he was now, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand like he used to when you were a kid struggling to sleep.

"No problem kid." Kelly smirked when you frowned, hating that he still called you that even though you were a fully grown, functioning and full time working adult.

"Anything for you."

[ur-boyfiend]

secret admirer

[???] x gn!reader (implied non-fem reader tho, 'straight' used for reader not being attracted to guys)

this was supposed to be a valentine's fic i'm so sorry lmao,,, also there's no name at the top bc it's supposed to be a surprise (secret admirer, yanno?)

it's been for fucking ever since i was at a school that actually had like,,, class periods so apologies if things don't make much sense hndfjkhskjdfs. this is like. minimally proofread. the proofreading was when i typed it up from what i had in my notebook lol.

wc; 1.4k

opening your locker, you're met by a folded piece of notebook paper fluttering to the ground, landing at your feet. you pick it up just as your best friend makes it to his locker, a few down from yours. immediately he zeroes in on the note in your hand.

"another one?"

rolling your eyes slightly you nod, "good morning to you too, jeongin."

ignoring your tone, he gives a terrifyingly cheery "good morning!" in response

"ugh, it's too early for that kind of energy, go away you freak."

"yeah yeah, what's the note say?"

you shrug, "dunno, i haven't read it yet."

he gasps dramatically, "well read it then!"

before you have a chance to tell him to piss off, the warning bell rings. the entire hall stops, then turns into a frenzy of students trying to get to their first hour before they were counted as late. you share a wide-eyed look with jeongin before you each make a mad dash to your classes.

there's not much happening in your homeroom, so you take the opportunity to read the note. it's different from the others, it says that the author will be sitting at one of the outside tables for lunch if you want to meet them. you're immediately glad you didn't read it while jeongin was around.

you send him a quick text saying that you're gonna be sitting somewhere else at lunch so you could meet the person who's been leaving you notes. he immediately responds with "WHAT", but the bell rings before he can freak out further. luckily you don't have any morning classes with jeongin so he can't bother you in person either.

morning classes somehow take both forever and no time at all, and as soon as the lunch bell rings you're on your way to the cafeteria as quickly as possible without getting yelled at by a hall monitor. one of them, a senior named chan, does give you a warning look as you rush by, but it's clear he's trying not to smile at the same time.

the two of you aren't quite friends, mostly because you're in different years, but you've had electives together before, and get along well. realizing you have a music elective with him for your last hour, you make a mental note to explain things to him.

you make it to the cafeteria without running into jeongin, which, all things considered, was a minor miracle. hurrying across the room, you reach the doors to the small courtyard that the school allowed students to eat lunch in.

the weather isn't great, so it's mostly deserted, but there are still a few students scattered around. your eyes land on the table you'd been directed to in the note, but it's empty. for a moment you wonder if you'd been set up, if this had been some cruel joke, but you take a seat at the table anyway.

while you wait, you grab your notebook and start on music homework that you really should've finished last week. chan had texted you about it a couple times, but eventually gave up and sent a game of cup pong instead.

you're so focused on your work that you don't immediately notice when someone sits down across from you. the thing that gets your attention is their hand waving at the edge of your vision.

looking up, you blink a couple times before smiling at the person now fidgeting nervously, "hi jisung."

he looks startled and you tilt your head, slightly confused.

"you know my name?"

grinning, you nod, "yeah! chan talks about you a lot, i've been bugging him to introduce us sometime."

he groans, "oh god, what'd he say?"

you laugh at his immediate distrust of his best friend, knowing full well you'd be the same with jeongin.

"mostly good things, he complains sometimes but he just sounds like a dad, not like he's actually upset about anything."

jisung puffs his cheeks out slightly before sighing, the sight making you laugh again.

"you look like a chipunk!"

he puffs his cheeks out again and you laugh even harder, jisung laughing as well after a few seconds.

"so," you start once you can breathe again, "you're the one responsible for the notes in my locker?"

he nods, sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck, "yeah, i was worried about how you'd react if i told you since we don't really know each other and i wasn't sure if you were into guys anyway-"

holding up a finger to cut him off, you try not to laugh again.

"i'm friends with jeongin and hyunjin, and i hang out with chan and felix, and you thought i was straight?"

he pauses, "okay maybe i was being overly dramatic but still!"

you roll your eyes slightly, still smiling.

"anyway, chan said you'd been losing your mind about the notes and eventually he and changbin bullied me into telling you."

you're not surprised that chan and changbin had been responsible for convincing jisung, chan had mentioned his anxiety before.

after a slight pause you hold out your hand, "here gimme your phone."

he furrows his brows slightly before handing you the device. you snort and hand it back, "unlocked, romeo."

blushing slightly, he unlocks it and you add your number to his contacts, leaving the name blank, just shrugging when he gives you a confused look.

a moment later you get a text with a screenshot of your contact name, "juliet" glaring at you from the screen. you flip him off and he laughs as you add him to your contacts as "romeo".

he makes a face when you show him, "does this mean we're both gonna die?"

standing up, you lean across the table and smack him lightly on the back of his head, "do not jinx this, do not tempt the fates, do not speak that into existence," you punctuate each statement w,ith another smack.

he laughs, covering his head wiith his arms, "okay, okay! i'll stop!"

you're about to ask if he wants to hang out sometime, but the bell cuts you off, announcing the end of lunch and making both of you jump. rushing to shove your work back into your bag, you end up knocking your notebook off the table, all the notes he'd left you scattering across the ground.

cursing, you hurry to collect them before they could be snatched away by the wind. jisung blinks a couple times before quickly crouching down to help you.

when they're all tucked safely back in the pocket of your notebook, and the notebook itself is stowed in your bag, he looks at you again, "you kept them."

it's more a statement than it is a question, but it still makes you blush. you turn slightly to the side, "'course. why wouldn't i?" it's a mostly rhetorical question you both know the answer to.

the warning bell rings and you both jump again, rushing back into the building and almost sprinting to your classes. you get another warning look from chan, but you can tell it's not that serious this time either.

the next two hours pass in a blur, jeongin almost getting himself sent to the office twice for bothering you instead of paying attention. by seventh hour, you're about ready to duct tape his mouth shut. thankfully it's another class you don't share, and his only way to bug you is by text, which you quickly mute.

collapsing into the seat across from chan, you feel yourself deflate slightly. chan snorts, "rough day?"

groaning, you open your eyes again, "it was great, except for the fact that jeongin."

"oooh, something good happen?"

you give him a look and he breaks down into a fit of giggles, confirming your suspicions that he knew damn well what'd happened at lunch.

"oh can it, i've heard enough of that from jeongin."

chan stops laughing after a couple minutes, switching his attention back to the class. it's a fairly laid-back one, so you usually do more talking than working. you both work on music in your free time anyway.

hyunjin drops into the seat next to you, five minutes late and looking half-dead. you stare at him for a couple seconds, "how's dance team been treating you?"

he groans loudly in response, dropping his head onto the table with an audible thud.

"hey hey be careful, you don't have enough extra braincells to be treating them like that," chan is grinning as he says it, his grin widening when hyunjin flips him off.

the day ends before you really want it to, having been in the middle of a debate about barbie movies with chan and hyunjin. as you're heading out of the building, bickering with jeongin over whose house you're gonna crash, your phone buzzes with a text.

romeo see you tomorrow :)

[tangerinesgf]

Waiting Out The Storm

Tangerine x gn!reader

Summary: Tangerine just got home from a long job and you wanna go see him, but it's storming outside.

Tags/warnings: nothing really, just a bit hurt/comfort (mostly comfort not so much hurt actually), fluff, language (it's still Tangerine after all)

A/N: Here's a fluffy fic for ya'll before I come back with my angsty one, cause I already have a great (some might say horrible) idea for one. Also I spend a weird amount of time researching various British terms for weather for this fic.

"I know, love, I wanna see you too, but you don't 'ave a car and mine's total loss."

'I can just walk over, it's not that far.' you proposed, knowing full well it's at least a 15 minute walk.

Tangerine walked over to the window by the kitchen that looked out on the dim-lit street. It had been tipping down all day, but since Lemon had dropped him off at home it really started raining cats and dogs. London weather, everyone.

He should've just asked Lemon to drop him off at your place, but he had wanted to clean himself up a bit first. Yes, he had shown up at your doorstep covered in blood more than once, but he liked to avoid it if possible. Unfortunately that meant that the both of you were now stuck at home, talking over the phone instead of wrapped around each other.

"Use your eyes, darlin', it's raining sideways, there's no way I'm letting you set even one foot outside in that shitstorm."

'I have an umbrella.'

"Nice try, I'll come by in the morning, don't think it's goin' to let up tonight." He could hear you groan from over the phone at this.

There was nothing Tangerine wanted more than to hold you in his arms right now, tell you how much he missed you while placing little kisses all over your face. Unfortunately he was limping because some bastard had hit him on the leg with metal pipe and he wouldn't risk you getting sick only to see him.

"Go get some sleep, love, it's late."

'Fine.' you mumbled, clearly not happy about this, but it's not like you had a lot of other options at the moment.

"I love ya, sweet dreams and all that." He could hear you chuckle at that and he wished he was with you to see that smile on your face, however small it may be at this moment.

'Love you too, Tan.' And with that he heard you hang up the phone, finding himself alone once again.

After staring outside for a couple more minutes he decided that he should probably go to bed as well, after all he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep while in Madrid either.

About an hour later Tangerine was still awake, not used to sleeping alone. Just when he decided to pick up the book you had recommended to him, he heard what he thought was a faint knock on his frontdoor.

He climbed out of bed, put his joggers back on and strolled towards the door. When the knocking on his door became louder, seemingly more urgent he made a grab at the gun he kept in his drawer.

Pointing it in front of him, he slowly crept to the front door. Unlike your small apartment, Tangerine's house didn't have a peephole in the door. He made a mental note to go get one sometime this week. So for the lack of better options he threw the door open and pointed the barrel of the gun towards the figure on his doorstep. Their hands flew up in the air at the sight of the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Tan. Paranoid much?"

Wait what?

Slowly the person lowered their hands and pulled the hood covering their face down. "It's just me."

You were standing on his porch, completely soaked without your previously mentioned umbrella. Luckily you did wear a raincoat, although that didn’t stop your pants from getting wet. He could clearly see the the difference between your light blue jeans that had turned darker because of the rain.

"Fuckin' hell, what the fuck are ya doin' 'ere?"

"Couldn't sleep, I needed to see you." Your voice was barely audible above the rain, but neither made a move to get inside yet.

The rain will still pouring down, completely soaking your previously covered hair. Your face was red from the cold and Tangerine could hear you repeatedly sniffing your nose. That would probably turn into a cold later.

"So ya decided to walk to walk almost a kilometer in the storm?! Are you nuts?!"

"Look I'd love to continue this conversation, but can we please move it inside, I'm fucking freezing."

It only really hit him in that moment that you just walked almost 20 minutes in the rain and were currently still standing in it, practically shaking from the cold.

"Fuck, yea ofcours, come in."

Tangerine stepped aside, making room for you to set foot inside, and placed the gun back in the cabinet.

"You can put your coat on the heater, I'll get ya some towels and dry clothes."

"Thanks."

He quickly walked upstairs and grabbed the pajama pants you'd forgotten last time you were here and one of his dress shirts for you to put on.

When he came back you were still standing by the front door, rain dripping onto his welcome mat. Tangerine handed you the clothes and you made your way to his bathroom, leaving wet foot prints all over his house.

Once you were cleaned up you walked back into the living room. Tangerine loved it when you wore his clothes. His dress shirt was way too big for you, it basically swallowed you, but he absolutely adored it.

Once you were sitting on his couch, wrapped in his softest blanket Tangerine offered you a cuppa and sat next to you.

"What were you thinkin', love?"

"I-"

Tangerine cut you off before you could finish your answer. "I told ya to stay home."

He wasn't really upset with you. In fact Tangerine was ecstatic to see you again after 3 weeks, but he didn't understand why you couldn't just wait until morning. Why you would risk your health just to see him. In his opinion he really wasn't worth all this trouble.

"I know." You simply said.

"Then why'd ya come?" His voice was soft, truly just wanting to understand you.

"I had to see you, see that you're okay." You mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

Oh.

Tangerine followed your eyes, but you avoided him. He knew that you worried about him, how could you not with his particular job. However you had never really voiced that to him, not like this.

"I'm sorry." you murmured.

With your apology all the remaining tension instantly left his body. All you had wanted to do was see for yourself that he made it home safe. Tangerine had told you that he had only gotten beat up a bit, but it was only now that he realized that every time he returned from a job he went straight to you. This was the first time where he hadn't been able to. He had never realized how much you apparently needed that physical confirmation.

Tangerine moved closer to you, gently took the mug from your hands and placed it on the coffee table. "C'mere."

He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist. As you buried your face in the crook of his neck, Tangerine placed a gentle kiss on your crown.

"You could 'ave told me. Don't want you worrying about me." He tried to make it sound teasing, almost like a joke to lighten the mood, but it didn't really work.

"I'm always going to worry about you, Tan."

Tangerine wished he could just take all your worry away, promise you that he was always gonna make it back home to you, but he knows he can't.

He can't promise that he won't accidently catch a bullet to the neck and bleed out in some god forsaken country with you on the other side of the world. The thought of leaving you behind has him sleepless at night. Tangerine knows you felt the same way, tonight was only a confirmation of that.

"I know, love." He pulled you impossibly closer to him.

There wasn't much else to say at the moment. Tangerine knew the two of you should probably talk about your feelings, but that could wait 'till morning.

He could feel your warm breath on his neck as it slowly evened out. When he looked at you, your eyes were closed, fast alseep. Tangerine leaned his head on yours, finally able to catch some much needed sleep.

Taglist: @waiting4ff @venusthepirate @megumisbabymomma @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @wrendermeuseless @kpopgirlbtssvt @dontknownameauthor @earth-elemental18 @thirstyfortangerine @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

[yona049]

𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩🕸️𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪

Y/n blinks slowly to hear loud chatter beside her.

"Oh! So your Miguel is still Spiderman! But his wife and daughter passed?"

"Yeah! And your Miguel passed?"

Y/n tries rubbing her eyes more than once to be sure she wasn't seeing double, but she wasn't, there were 2 Lyla's! Chatting in mid air.

Her body quickly moves to sit up and she looks around. A medical room with technologies similar if not exactly the same to her universe. She had what looked like a kid's toy watch on her wrist and a monitor connected to her upper arm. Her mask was off letting her ruffled hair stand free in all directions.

Lyla quickly pixelates back to Y/n's side with a bright smile.

"Morning Y/n! Sleeping on the job again?" she teased while the second Lyla also comes closer.

"Hmm, she does look alot like my Miguel's wife! Weird.."

Y/n shakes her head and quips.

"Lyla? Updates please? Little confused here!"

Y/n's Lyla reacts quickly and brings a virtual pannel into Y/n's view.

"We are currently in the Spider Society headquarters. From what my twin has transferred to me, I can tell you were in another universe just as you guessed."

A picture of the hundreds of spider people in the main hall pops up on the screen.

"I snapped a picture for you to mentally prepare you! This is what outside the medical room looks like. Where you are now!"

Y/n squints and looks down at the watch on her wrist.

"A Dimensional Travel Watch? Miguel's theories were right. Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse!"

The second Lyla quickly interjects.

"Well! We just call it the Spider verse!"

Y/n smiles and pulls the medical monitor off her arm. "Definitely easier to say, that's for sure! But Miguel would call it stupid! "

She stands up from off the bed and her mask quickly constructs itself back over her face.

"Let's go meet these Spider people!" She says with an excited skip in her step.

She walks to the automatic door but Lyla anxiously yells. "Y/n WAIT!"

But it's too late. Y/n walks smack into a broad chest that was entering the room as she was exiting.

"Ugh! Sorry, I was just-"

Her voice is caught in her throat. Like she was waking up from a horrid nightmare that lasted 2 long years.

There he stood, her husband just as the day she saw him, bleeding out in their living room.

Menacing brown eyes with serious eyebrows that only she could differentiate from serious to resting bitch face. He looked down at her, a big size difference that she adored and could find escape in his eternal bear hugs.

"Miguel?"

The words barely managed to leave her lips, like a droplet that hesitates to drip.

Miguel doesn't reply, only sets down what looks like a meal and a glass of water he was brining to her. He crosses his arms taking his time to study her costume.

His mouth finally opens and his voice vibrates through Y/n's ear drums, not having heard it in so long.

"So, you're the Spider from earth 927?"

A plain tone from Miguel that Y/n wasn't used to and didn't expect. This brings her head back to reality. Her stance turns strong and confident, with clenched fists and puffed out chest.

"I'm Spider woman. But I've been called the Red Spider on occasion!"

She looks at the water before looking back at Miguel. He nods as if saying yes to her question.

She quickly takes the water and the mask only opens her mouth and nose. She starts drinking the water quickly and winces at the headache caused by dehydration.

Miguel notices this distress and hand moves onto her forehead making her jump.

"Your vitals are still a little Shaky, you took a smack to the face. Your Spider serum should've fixed that by now!"

Y/n sits back on the bed and Miguel moves to the screen monitor. Taking the heart monitor Y/n yanked off her arm, he used his free hand to feel Y/n's arm for the right vein before sticking the monitor back on.

"I haven't exactly had the serum for long.." she mumbles hesitantly.

His eyes glued to the screen monitor, Y/n takes the opportunity to look at him again. No distinct difference from her earth. It just looks like their earth's tragedies had been swapped. Well, almost.

Realizing she forgot something important, Y/n anxiously looks for Lyla before spotting her.

"Lyla, Is the kindergarten ok? Is Gabrion ok?"

"He was in a safe area of the kindergarten with the younger kids." Lyla reassured her.

Miguel stops moving when he hears the name and catches Y/n off guard with his intense stare.

"Gabrion?"

Y/n clenches the cup in her hand and swallows the lump in her throat. All she ever wanted was to hear him say that name. It made her want to cry hideous tears and she wanted his comfort.

"Um.. My son. He's almost 2 now." Y/n turns her head quickly avoiding eye contact.

Miguel is silent for a minute.

"My daughter had a similar name."

He says before reaching his hand to gently grip her shoulder.

Y/n turns her head hesitantly and slowly to look back into his eyes. Miguel seemed to be working something out.

"Can I see your face?" he asks suspiciously.

In this moment, nothing else in the world mattered, only the spinning thoughts in Y/n's head, whether to show him and risk his reaction. What if he was revolted seeing his wife, what if his wife from this world was alive?!

These are all things that could risk Y/n not seeing her husband again, all she wanted was to be near him again, even if he wasn't her Miguel.

Not a moment after the alarm suddenly roared through the speakers.

"¡Ahora no! (Not now!)"

Miguel cursed before he quickly jumps to action, recalling his mask and out the door.

After a moment to breath out Y/n follows with her mask covering her face entirely once more.

They run to what looks like a dark room with many bits and parts of machinery. In the center a platform with monitors. Gwen, Hobie, Jess and someone she didn't recognize was waiting. He was dressed in a black and red spider suit.

Gwen is the first to notice Y/n and Miguel. "Hey! How you feeling?"

Y/n is suddenly submerged in Golden retriever energy, from Gwen, Hobie and Miles while Jess and Miguel are pushed to the side.

While Y/n is caught up on everyone's names and how they brought her here, Miguel walks to the platform monitors with Jess beside him.

"Who is she?" he types quickly.

Jess didn't say anything, resulting in Miguel giving her an angry glare.

Jess shrugs before looking back at Y/n and smirking.

"You like her, huh?" she teases.

Miguel follows her gaze with a little growl before blurting out.

"No! But, she's familiar?"

"How?"

Miguel hesitates to answer, watching Y/n giggle and pat Miles on the head. A loving nature beamed from her body like sunrays, a warm love Miguel felt clearly in his hollow cold body.

Not speaking out loud he thought to himself. 'Her laugh echoes though these halls so clearly. Her body is so familiar to me in ways I cannot explain, the way she moves, reacts and talks. How do I know this woman?'

Snapping himself out of his thoughts he looks back at the monitor and types a little more aggressively, scolding himself for not focusing.

Jess only chuckles a little before making a sharp whistle to catch everyone's attention.

"Listen up everyone! We have another anomaly on earth 217. Hobie! Miles! I'll take you two!"

Y/n smiles watching both the boys run to Jess excitedly.

Gwen nudges Y/n on the shoulder then crosses her arms.

"Red, while you're here, why not stick around for a bit? I'll take you back whenever, but we could use another spider-woman? "

Y/n bites her lip considering staying in this universe for a little with the occasional trip back home.

Her head turns slowly to sneak a peak at Miguel. He was standing with Hobie and Miles, explaining the mission. Y/n felt butterflies in her stomach and a happiness in her grew again.

"Sure. Why not?" she smiled looking back at Gwen's knowing look.

[19burstraat]

So I read in your newest fic’s (which IS INCREDIBLE btw you never miss 🩷) notes that you originally conceptualized the fic as being in the vein of “it’s a wonderful life” and I’m wondering…….how do you think that would have gone? Just curious 💕

Ty!! I note that I haven't seen it for quite a few years so it would have been a fairly basic comparison bc I forget the specifics of the context in IAWL, but yes... The spirit of Jordie (or possibly just Kaz's brain pulling a Really Complex Hallucination, I think the idea was it's like a fucking weird dream after he either nearly drowns or gets beaten up) pulls up, and says Hey Kaz Want To Know What Would've Happened If You HAD Died and Kaz is like. 'Um not really actually' but it's too late. I do have a bunch of notes app scraps of it, that I repurposed slightly for the current fic, so I'll paste em under the cut for your perusal. Ultimately I found this way of doing things a bit unsubtle but it was very interesting!

"Is this some guilt complex shit?" said Kaz.

"If you want it to be."

"No, I don't." Kaz wriggled out of the way and got to his feet. "I'm just going to—"

***

The sheet was wrenched away.

Kaz had seen plenty of death in the Barrel and on the Barge, and he had known who was going to be under the sheet. It didn't matter. He had to crouch abruptly in the corner before his legs gave way. He clamped his hands over his mouth and tried not to look anywhere in particular— not at Jordie, dead beside him, or Jesper, dead on the morgue table with a set of terrible wounds. He could hear snatches of conversation:

"...ran up debts... gangs... sent debtors after him..."

****

"Well, Miss Zenik— I run a little thing called the Hellshow," said Rollins. "Heard of it?"

Nina shook her head.

"Don't," Kaz said, even though it made no difference.

***

With a horrified start, Kaz realised it was Wylan; leaning on the wall in neatly re-hemmed Barrel flash and hastily cut hair.

"I want my cut now," he said.

"You'll get a cheque in a few days."

"In cash; now."

"You think I'm running a charity?" said Wylan. "You think all this information and all those chemicals come free? If you want to run this job without me, that's fine. But I won't bail you out of the Stadhall Jail when the Stadwatch grunts catch you with a fucking circular saw at the vault."

Per Haskell exchanged glances with Red Felix and Beetle. Eventually, there was some fumbling, and a wodge of kruge was produced. Wylan took it and counted it.

***

Kaz watched him go.

"He won't get out," he said.

"He might," said Jordie.

"He won't," said Kaz. "He can't. He's in too deep, now. He should've folded and left months ago, but he was too conscientious about the money and too anxious about being scammed."

***

"I get it, alright?" Kaz said wretchedly. "I get it. I understand."

"Do you?"

"I know I have to live for everyone else to make it, too." Kaz spat. "I know. What do you want me to say?"

"Fate has plans for us all, Kaz."

"Killing her and taking her platitudes? That's fucking rich." Kaz turned and paced the cobbles furiously. "Fuck! Fine! So— what? Go on! Tell me! Give me the moral!"

***

It's interesting bc I kinda like the idea (I miss Kaz when he's not there I get very upset when he's not around. Like a baby at a party screaming when everyone holding them isn't the Specific Person They Want) but also I think I'd never have finished this lmao. Also I'd have had to decide if it was a real supernatural kinda thing or if it was just Kaz's brain on a mad one. And like I say, I kinda prefer the ominous absences... To deploy Kaz's favourite tactic, planting an idea but leaving a lack of specifics or certainty, creates a lot more unsease.

[wastedpotentialsblog]

Destiny enemies and enemy models that I really really liked and could've been used more:

Marauder Ultras:

They're fun to fight! They're fast, can use stealth, can use shock blades, and don't have to Boss StompTM. I would've loved to see these guys decked in white, cream, blue, and black if they were on Europa. You don't have to give em Stasis but a different boss than just Large and slow Captain is a nice change of pace.

House Salvation elites (Enforcers, Disciples, and Assisstants)

>Makes 3 custom enemy types that use Darkness powers for the first time, all with unique models and animations

>barely uses them

>they disappear for 2 years

They didn't come back til Seraph! SERAPH. Come on man. These fuckers should've been everywhere throughout BL. I also think their lack of appearance also contributed to the lack of urgency of the "our enemies have darkness now" threat. I mean, we fought like 8 or 9 named "Salvation Elites" but most were just standard Ultra Captains. If they were Elites, they could've just been these guys.

Side note: Out of the new factions of Lucent Hive, Shadow Legion, and House Salvation. Salvation didn't get an "invasion" season to go with their expansion. Robbed. Truly. They made a Military-Industrial Complex and barely set foot anywhere else besides Europa. I also think this was a factor that didnt create any kind of urgency during BL.

Berserkers

Need I say more? Look at this swagged out motherfucker. If House Salvation really subsumed multiple houses under its banner, Kells Scourge included, should've thrown a couple of these bozos out there. Alter the shield mechanic to be more easily disabled by a solo player. Could even make their armor jet black. Given they have stealth itd be a nice visual contrast when they reveal themselves. I didn't play Scourge of the Past too much, but I did enjoy these guys when I did.

(Can you tell I'm biased at this point?)

Psion Flayers

Easy miniboss material. They dont have to be Ultra sized, maybe just slightly bigger than standard Psions. Could even give them a supporting role on the battlefield. Empowering Cabal around them with their enhanced telekinetics, those enhancements varying by elemental type and tying back to our Light 3.0 abilities. (Sun Flayer/Solar=heal, Abyss Flayer/Void=overshields, Storm Flayer/Arc=movement speed). Of course, their armor would have to have more visual differences and distinct silouhettes as I imagine trying to pick out which one is which based on color alone could be difficult for some. Hell, truthfully, I'd be fine if they were just the fucking Psion Sisters from Season of Dawn copy and pasted everywhere. But a supportive role would add more variety to a fight.

Rocket Centurions

Bet you forgot about these dudes, huh? They pop up in the EAZ but, you know, we've been fighting the Cabal for this long, you think more would've strapped rockets to their backs by now. While their missiles are just Colossus slow missiles (iirc), they could just be normal missiles that explode and don't slow just to keep them different. While these could be neat minibosses, if you want an Ultra one at the end of a story mission or something, they could take the Elykris (The Machinist) route of firing missiles where they go straight up in the air and red dots target the ground around you and you have to keep moving. They could've popped back in with the Shadow Legion. I think they could rock black, gold, and purple

Anyway this is mostly about House Salvation and Psion Flayers and I remembered Rocket Centurions in the middle of making this post. If I remember anything, I'll reblog it. I was gonna say something about the other races but Hive don't have a lot of variants that can be turned into minibosses and the Vex got Wyverns (seriosuly. No notes. A perfect enemy type). Obviously it's like way too late to add these to previous story missions, but if we are gonna reuse enemy types, can we reuse some of the cooler ones? Please?

[cowgurrrl]

Eight

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Author’s note: The end of the beginning. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to continue this story or took the time to read and support this weird idea.

Summary: “Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.” - David Foster Wallace [2.2k]

Warnings: if you’ve read this far, you know what to expect

You bury Jane outside the walls on a hill overlooking the QZ. The same hill where you hid with her when the Outbreak happened. You can see everything from up here. The sky stretches infinitely beyond the horizon, and you can see where nature has reclaimed what used to be your hometown. This hill reminds you of the one near your old apartment building where she used to roll down the grassy knoll until her clothes were stained and muddy. She would've liked finally being outside of the QZ, you think as your hand rests on the freshly dug earth, protecting her better than you ever could. 

"Y'know, I named you after one of the kindest people I've ever known," you say into the air, looking at the sunset. "I don't think I ever told you about her, but you would've liked her. She was tough and consistent. She's one of the only people who was nice to me when I was a kid. It seemed like the right thing to do, naming you after her. I still stand by it. Jane's my favorite name now." You catch yourself waiting for questions or thoughts that never come. You listen for her voice in the rustling of leaves or the distant sounds of the QZ. You've never felt more alone than you do right now. 

"I was gonna get you out of here. I was gonna take you somewhere far away and let you run around and be loud without worrying about anything. You were gonna get to be a kid. I was gonna make things better for you," you sniffle. "And I'm so sorry I couldn't do that for you, sweet girl. I tried so fucking hard, and it wasn't enough, and I," your voice catches in your throat. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." 

You tell her stories from when she was a baby, like how she couldn't fall asleep unless she was snuggling on your chest and how you still can't believe she was ever small enough to fit her entire body in your two hands. You tell her the good stories from your childhood, the ones you were too scared to even look at, let alone say aloud. You tell her the truth about her dad, how you wish he could've been better for her, and how you tried your best not to make his absence a hole in her life. You tell her everything.

You don't leave her even after the sun dips below the horizon. You can't go back to that empty apartment with the three fucking chairs and bedroom reserved for her. You can't keep living in a stale memorial for people you should've died for. You were too late, too slow, too stupid to save Adam and Jane. Why should you get to live there when neither of them does? You've been trying to gather information from different people on what happened that day, who set the bomb off, who killed your daughter, and a handful of others, including Mrs. Carmichael, as a form of repentance. You can't bring them back, but you can kill the people who took them from you. 

You don't know how long you've been sitting there when a twig snaps next to you, and you point your gun toward the sound. "It's just me," Owen says, stepping out from the shadows with raised hands. You sigh and lower your weapon, your body slumping against the tree as he gets closer. He's unarmed and out of uniform, a gray shirt stretching across his shoulders. You let him settle on the ground a few feet away, his boots crushing wildflowers under the soles. 

"D'you have information for me?" You ask, not even looking at him. He freezes, and it's enough of an answer. "Whose bomb was it?"

"Fireflies." He mumbles, his voice gravelly. You lift your head to find him staring out at the QZ. People have been on edge since the bomb exploded, as they should be. The fighting between FEDRA and the Fireflies has been ramping up. Nobody's been sleeping with gunshots firing and people barking orders all night. Still, if FEDRA could hold onto any idea of normalcy, that they are the good guys, they would. 

"If I find out you're lying to me-"

"Jesus, who else do you think it was? You really think FEDRA is dropping bombs on schools?" 

"You guys certainly aren't known for your empathy," you snap and immediately regret it. He let you go to her when you found her despite the earth still rattling under your feet. He helped you get Jane out of the QZ. He offered to help you bury her. You know he's not heartless, but he's still one of them. You clear your throat and take a shaky breath. "I'm going after the Fireflies."

"They'll kill you."

"Then I'll take as many as I can down with me." You say, and he says your name, shaking his head.

"We're already doing an investigation. Just let us handle it."

"Like you handled the bombings? Or the daily shootouts? Or the fucking Infected?" You ask. "I'm not burying anyone else, so you can tell me what you know about where the Fireflies are holed up or stay out of my way." 

"Or what?" He asks. You pull your gun and level it at his head, cocking it in half a second. His Adam's apple bobs, and you catch the slight tremble of his hands, but he doesn't move. Your hands, however, are steady as you grip the metal.  

"Wanna keep asking stupid ass questions?" You ask, and he shakes his head. "If you don't know anything, that's fine. I'll get what I need. But don't come here and act like you don't know exactly what I can do. Remember your weapons dealer?"

"He was a security risk." He swallows thickly, and you laugh.

"One you were too chicken shit to take care of yourself, right? Couldn't even tell Lee the truth about why you wanted him gone." 

"You're right. Okay? Is that what you wanna hear? You're right," he says. "Just... please put the gun down."

"I'm going after the Fireflies, and if you or any of your buddies try to stop me, I'll put a bullet in your head so fucking fast, it'll give you whiplash. Do you understand me?"

"Y... yes," he manages. You adjust your grip on your gun and lower it, but don't flip the safety. You're not a threat, you're saying. But I am. He gets the silent message and stands, showing you his empty hands once he's at his full height. His eyes jump from yours to the mound of dirt next to you, tears shining against the steel gray after a few seconds. "For what it's worth, I really am sorry for what happened. I wish I could've done something to save her." 

His words take you right back to the rubble outside her school when people were screaming with pain or grief. You swear you can smell the smoke and ash hanging in the air. You can see the caved-in front door, the blown-out windows, and how the broken glass twinkled in the street. You can feel her weight in your arms. Your face stings and you reach for Jane but only feel the cool soil. He's still staring at you, but you don't meet his eyes. 

"If you're really sorry, you'll stay the fuck out of my way," you say, the words cutting your tongue as you speak them. "I'd hate for you to become collateral, too."

2010

Your knuckles are bloody and bruised, and you can feel the bones in your hand creaking under the weight of your punches, but you can't stop. Not when you're this close. The man under you is shaking, and tears streak over the blood on his cheeks. The tape around his wrists has come undone, but he doesn't move to stand or defend himself. Not when his shoulder is dislocated. You crouch in front of him where he's spitting blood, and he slumps against the wall with a defeated look.

"Where is she?" You ask.

"Why should I tell you? You're gonna kill me either way."

"Oh, I'm not that nice," you say. "If you don't tell me, I'll just tie you up and leave you here. The next Firefly I find will get to hear all about how you cracked and told me about their safe houses. We both know how they feel about traitors." One of the few good things to come out of you tracking the Fireflies for so long is that you know how they operate. Not only that, you know how they punish those who step out of line. For all their righteous talk, they're no better than FEDRA. "And once I tell them exactly where I left you, they'll come here and make you wish I had wasted a bullet on you. Then, I get to start all over with another one of your stupid fucking recruits. Might even grab one of the ones you brainwashed." 

He mumbles something like, "Please, don't," and shakes his head. He drops his chin to his chest and cries for a few seconds, making you roll your eyes, but you don't rush him. They all do this.

"And if I tell you?" He asks, lifting his gaze to you, and you pull your gun from your backpack. You pull the slide, clicking the bullet into place, and shrug despite his whimpering.

"I make it quick for you. Won't even feel it." 

"Please, just let me go," he begs, and you suck your teeth. "I won't t... tell anyone I saw your face. Please."

"I'm losing patience here, Danny boy." You say, reaching for the knife you threw to the side about an hour ago. 

"No, please! I have a daughter!" He yells suddenly, and you hesitate, the knife's bloodied handle slicking your palm. He seems to realize the effect of his words because he keeps going. "She's… she's three. Her name is Harley. She needs me." Strangely, you smile and slide your knife into your backpack as you stare at him. 

"I have a kid, too," you say, and his eyes brighten just enough to tell you he thinks he has a sliver of a chance. "She's ten, but she acts like she's sixteen, and she really loves music. I mean, she could just dance to it all day long. Or, at least, she would," You bite the inside of your cheek. "She would if you hadn't thrown a bomb into her fucking school building and killed her. June 2nd, 2008, does that sound familiar to you? Hm?" You ask, pressing the gun to his forehead. 

"It-it was an accident. Someone misread orders and," he sobs. "Please."

"Where's Marlene?" You ask, but all he does is cry. You give him ten seconds before you shoot his shoulder. "Where's Marlene, Daniel?" You ask again as he claws at the bullet wound, trying to stave off the bleeding. Twenty seconds. Another bullet, this time through his knee. "Where is Marlene?!" 

"B…Boston! Boston! She's in Boston!" He finally relents, and you sit back on your heels. "She has... a system of people there. If you find one of them, you can find her." You've let yourself believe a lot of lies, but this is not one of them. She's in Boston. The woman who gave the orders to detonate a bomb inside her school is in Boston. You can get there. You can do that. You have to. There's no other choice. You give Daniel one last look before shooting him. 

Suddenly, the building is silent, and the only thing you can focus on are the plans overflowing in your mind. If you leave tonight, you can make it to Boston in a month. Maybe three if you get caught up in raids or with Infected. Whatever. It doesn't matter. You can make it. You leave Daniel and the blood and gore to pack your things. The next few hours are a blur. You're clearing out your caches and stuffing bands and bands of cards into your backpack. You don't say goodbye to Lee or your neighbors or anyone. 

The only person you tell your plan to is buried under a big tree on a hill overlooking the QZ. She's the only one you say goodbye to. She's the only one you still care about. She's the last shred of your life before the world ended, and you're leaving her behind. 

One last time, you pick her wildflowers and leave them at her grave with a strained, "I love you." One last time, you kiss your hand and press it into the earth like it'll penetrate the ground and land on her forehead. One last time, you stand over her, and you walk away, hoping that the view from here is enough to absolve you of everything you've done wrong. Hoping you did at least one thing right by her. Hoping love is a good enough excuse for all the horror.