#the only problem was that i was staying up until like 4-5 every night and getting up at 10

[ooppo]

Greatest news ever btw in 2023 (started meds august of 2022) I had no depressive episodes and one baby hypomanic episode (made a 25k word fic with 11 drawn images and that was IT). Let's give it up to getting the best scenario imaginable. Here's to this next year's chemical lottery. Take ur meds fellow bipolars

[shjsnjkj]

Kinktober Masterlist '24

-`♡´- This masterlist is made by me and @luviwon, the sweetest girlie I know. We decided to split the list in half but you can also find some episodes we wrote together! I will post on the odd days while she will on the even ones. ♡ You can find @luviwon's masterlist here! -taglist is open I hope that everyone will love our work as we put a lot of effort into it. Make sure to reblog and leave feedback if you liked it! Sending lots of love! ૮₍ • ˕ - ₎ა♡₊˚

OCTOBER 1 --- LEE HEESEUNG' COME 2 ME

☆ boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader ; After a rough day at work, you finally stepped out of the office building, only to find yourself caught in a sudden downpour. That would've been no problem because you love rainy days, but you didn't have an umbrella, and your phone's battery died as well. You prayed that your boyfriend, Heeseung would pass by your workplace and pick you up, but you knew he was working late. But not today, he came to you with his new car. You were so happy to see him and couldn't wait to thank him for saving you tonight. “You know, I’m ready. Waiting for you every night. Entrusting myself to your touch”

OCTOBER 2 --- YANG JUNGWON' MY PERSONAL STYLIST

☆ stylist!jungwon x model!reader ; Jungwon always finds the most fashionable pieces of clothing for you to try out, but when one day he decides to wrap you up in his own hands, well that becomes your new favourite fit.

OCTOBER 3 --- PARK JONGSEONG' THE BOY NEXT DOOR

☆ bnd!jay x reader ; Thunderstorms, no electricity, no key to your apartment. The only thing you could do was to stay for the night at your neighbor, Jay's apartment.

OCTOBER 4 --- SIM JAEYUN' ANNIVERSARY BREEDING

☆ boyfriend!jake x girlfriend!reader ; Before you know it, you reach your 5th anniversary with your boyfriend, and before you feel it, he is 8inch deep inside you. but this time, he will leave a special present there for you.

OCTOBER 5 --- PARK SUNGHOON' MY SUMMER LOVE

☆ sunghoon x reader ; It was August 31st, and you were heading back home tomorrow because of school. Unfortunately, sleep didn't come easily. Your mind kept replaying all the memories you had with Sunghoon this summer, except for one. The one you'll be making tonight with the help of his camera. “Fly through the deep night to you. In the thick darkness, I will hold you again”

OCTOBER 6 --- KIM SUNOO' MUTUAL TOUCHING

☆ bestfriend!sunoo x reader ; Someone once said that having a sleepover with your boy best friend is not the smartest idea. you wondered why, until you returned to your bedroom to find Sunoo touching himself and ultimately agreeing to pleasure each other.

OCTOBER 7 --- PARK SUNGHOON' BEST FRIENDS, RIGHT?

☆ bestfriend!sunghoon x reader ; Jealousy. This was the first time you felt that emotion while seeing your childhood best friend, Sunghoon around girls except you. You hated to admit it, but you found out yourself craving his touch every time you saw him. Maybe today is the day, to be honest and open up to him.

OCTOBER 8 --- NISHIMURA RIKI' CLASSROOM HOOK UP

☆ classmate!niki x reader ; You really hated the physical education class, and so did your classmate niki. but skipping it together didn’t keep you from finding another way to burn some calories.

OCTOBER 9 --- SIM JAEYUN' MIDNIGHT FICTION

☆ roommate!jake x reader ; You have this little habit, of reading fanfictions before going to bed. Every night you'd dream about him touching you, heavily making out at the wall. But you never thought that this would come true tonight with your roommate Jake.

OCTOBER 10 --- PARK JONGSEONG' MY FITNESS INSTRUCTOR

☆ fitness instructor!jay x reader ; Wishing to get in shape for summer, you hired your own instructor to help you reach your goal. yet later one, your only fitness target turned into feeling him press hard against your ass while bending down to stretch your body.

OCTOBER 11 --- LEE HEESEUNG' FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS

☆ fwb!heeseung x reader ; “I’ll be alone tonight, do you wanna come over?” This was Heeseung's first time at your place. You were on your own at home, and he couldn't wait to touch you again after agreeing to this relationship. It was snowy outside, but inside your home all the windows became foggy that night due to the hot air between you two.

OCTOBER 12 --- KIM SUNOO' PHONE SEX

☆ dating app stranger!sunoo x dating app user!reader ; “lonely at night? don’t worry, ‘call a lover’ will bring you the company you need in just a couple of seconds”. out of curiosity, you downloaded the dating app mentioned in the ad, just to say goodbye to boredom. I mean, it’s not like you’ll end up moaning a stranger’s name tonight, right?

OCTOBER 13 --- SIM JAEYUN' STARRY NIGHT

☆ chrucrchboy!jake x reader ; “You and I under the moonlight. We bloom at night.” Jake and you have been friends since you relocated to the same area. You never imagined that this sweet guy you go to church with every Sunday would have these naughty fantasies about you, and no one else. After your birthday, he took you to a beautiful garden far from your home, where you could make love in secret, unheard.

OCTOBER 14 --- YANG JUNGWON' PORNSTAR COLLAB

☆ pornstar!jungwon x pornstar!reader ; Having been in the adult industry for only a year, you’re constantly surprised by what the directors come up with next. but who would have guessed that their latest surprise would be filming a scene with your favorite actor?

OCTOBER 15 --- LEE HEESEUNG' BIRTHDAY SEX

☆ boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader ; Heeseung’s 23th birthday. You decided to surprise your boyfriend with the members after their concert. He loved every single minute of it, especially the ones you two shared throughout the night. You didn’t hesitate and relaxed in the indoor jacuzzi with some champagne and strawberries covered in …

OCTOBER 16 --- SIM JAEYUN' POST-MATCH

☆ football captain!jake x cheerleader!reader ; When it comes to football, you know that for Jake a new victory means a following night out with the boys. this time, though, luck is not on their side and Jake’s frustration needs to be buried somewhere else. maybe inside you would be just the great spot for that.

OCTOBER 17 --- PARK JONGSEONG' LULLABY

☆ uncle!jay x niece!reader ; Going on a vacation with your uncle looked like a wonderful idea. But little did you know, you will share a bedroom with him.

OCTOBER 18 --- KIM SUNOO' FAMILY DINNER FINGERING

☆ fiancé!sunoo x reader ; It didn’t take long for everyone in your family to hear about your engagement, so they organised a dinner to celebrate the two of you. but truth be told, can sunoo really keep his hands away from you under the eyes of other people? or will he just not give a damn about it and let his fingers do their trick?

OCTOBER 19 --- PARK SUNGHOON' GLASSES

☆ boss!sunghoon x worker!reader ; “I can’t endure it anymore, come to me. Just a little bit closer.” Stealing glances with your boss wasn't the best idea, especially when you're working on an important project and you're supposed to give it your all. He didn't like the result, it was full of mistakes and you had to get yourself together, as he said. So you had to stay overtime. Nevertheless, you were not alone, Sunghoon stayed with you and helped you get yourself together in every way possible.

OCTOBER 20 --- YANG JUNGWON' BEACH SEX

☆ ex boyfriend!jungwon x ex girlfriend!reader ; Going on a trip with your highschool group of friends sounds all perfect until you find out your ex will be there too. And you feel annoyed about it, that until you end up on top of him with your swimming suit buried somewhere in the sand. “We don’t need to tell your new boyfriend about it, sweetheart”

OCTOBER 21 --- LEE HEESEUNG' DAD'S BEST FRIEND

☆ heesung x reader ; Heeseung was your favorite person when you were a little girl, but after moving to a new country, you slowly started to forget him through the ages. Forget all his beautiful features, the memories you shared with him, and the song he sang to you the last night you saw him. Receiving little kisses and sleeping with him wasn't the same as you remembered either.

OCTOBER 22 --- PARK JONGSEONG' BACKSTAGE SUPPORT

☆ idol!jay x girlfriend!reader ; Performing on stage is indeed stressful, so sometimes Jay just needs his antistress toy to calm down. that’s why you wait for him patiently in the backstage, just in case he needs to recharge in between performances.

OCTOBER 23 --- PARK SUNGHOON' MOONSTRUCK

☆ sunghoon x reader ; Your fiancé, your parents, and your loved ones are waiting for you to show up at the altar in that beautiful white dress. But you are not even in the same place with them. Right now you're with Sunghoon, hand in hand, melting into each other's touch with your engagement ring on the ground.

OCTOBER 24 --- YANG JUNGWON' MIRROR KINK

☆ boyfriend!jungwon x girlfriend!reader ; A new house brings new surprises, and the bedroom ceiling mirror is no exception. at first, you don’t give it too much thought —until you catch your boyfriend’s reflection in it, relentlessly pleasuring you.

OCTOBER 25 --- NISHIMURA RIKI' LIPS

☆ rival!niki x reader ; You and Niki were the best dancers in the whole school, but everyone knew that you were enemies. One day, someone spread a rumor that the two of you were secretly dating. As soon as you heard it, you ran to Niki and asked him what was going on. "I wouldn't mind if the rumors were true." -He said.

OCTOBER 26 --- KIM SUNOO' SHOWER SEX

☆ step brother!sunoo x reader ; “What about we just share this one today?” Sunoo whispers into your ear, slowly taking more of your personal space inside the shower cabin. “let’s just wash these sinful desires of ours away here for now.”

OCTOBER 27 --- NISHIMURA RIKI' ONE PLUS ONE EQUALS ORAL TIME

☆ rich boy!niki x tutor!reader ; as Niki's grades keep considerably going down, you are being in charge of bringing them back to an average score, giving him private lessons at his house. Niki's stubbornness, though, and his constant dirty lines to flirt with you, do not help at all. so coming to an agreement together, you offer a little bit of you to every right answer he gets. it goes without saying now that by the end of the day, he would have mastered the subject just as much as your body.

OCTOBER 28 --- MAKNAE LINE' DRINKING GAME

☆ boyfriend!niki x girlfriend!reader x best friends!sunwon ; One too many drinks lead to the raise of unexpected secret fantasies, and that's how a birthday party for Jungwon turns into a dirty race, fighting for who to fill your holes next. and you would think your boyfriend Niki could never allow that, but the growing bulge in his pants when Sunoo is fucking you from behind, well, says something totally different.

OCTOBER 29 --- HYUNG LINE' ACT LIKE AN ANGEL, DRESS LIKE CRAZY

☆ brother!niki x sister!reader x brother's friend group!hyung line ; You always captured the models and the million-dollar products from afar. To be honest, you always wanted to try on some jewelry or something luxurious after being done with your work. Tonight you not just tried on the gems, you felt them as close as possible. Not to mention you got the chance to admire the streets of Tokyo from above with the help of the two ambassadors of Cartier.

OCTOBER 30 --- PARK SUNGHOON & KIM SUNOO' PANORAMA

☆ ambassador!sunsun x photgrapher!reader ; You always captured the models and the million-dollar products from afar. To be honest, you always wanted to try on some jewelry or something luxurious after being done with your work. Tonight you not just tried on the gems, you felt them as close as possible. Not to mention you got the chance to admire the streets of Tokyo from above with the help of the two ambassadors of Cartier taking turns behind your back.

OCTOBER 31 --- ENHYPEN' DARK MOON

☆ enhypen x reader ; Holding a halloween party on an abandoned island does not sound like the greatest idea at first, but it gets so much better when you get the best prizes for simply being there. as they wish to fulfill your dirty desires, enhypen organises a small game of hide and seek for you. but this one is a little different, as the prize for finding each and everyone is feeling them deep inside you, one by one, taking over your body and treating you just like the sex doll you wished to be. be careful, though, as there might be scary traps on the way to your reward (even though you can confirm that the only scary thing would be chocking on anything else other than their cocks)

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 11.1k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, angst, anxiousness, self-deprecating thoughts, low self-esteem, panic attack hinting, nausea, dizziness, miscommunication

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: The morning after came, the need for a talk is there, a new realization, new found feelings... as well as the gears going back to the starting line.

A/N: I am sorry.

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

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PART 7

The sound of a bird chirping caught your ear as you slowly gained your senses back, a soft whine staying in your throat as you rustled slightly in your place. There was so much warmth, making you sigh in complete happiness, as the body next to you held you even closer, his soft snores hitting the top of your head, the smell of his cologne that still lingered–

Body holding you close?

Your eyes snapped open like plates, being met with a bare chest in front of you as it slowly raised up and then back down, tattoos splattered on his skin, tattoos you recognized now. Your heart picked up a pace as you slowly, without moving too much, pulled your head off his chest to finally look up. Your breath was caught in your throat, a squeal wanting to come out as you saw Eddie’s sleeping face, his hair all over the pillow.

Your mouth fell open as you moved your legs slightly, feeling the soreness that now resides in between them. You needed to move away from him because you had to collect yourself. You had to think. You had to process whatever happened yesterday and you were beginning to breathe heavily and you really didn’t want to wake him up, not yet. 

You closed your mouth, trying to hold your breaths in as much as you could as you slowly started to wiggle out of his grasp, earning a scrunch of his nose and a groan. You tensed up when you moved, but he rolled off you in his sleep, laying on the other side of the bed with a soft sigh. You held your hand to your chest, feeling it almost ripping out from it with every thump. Your belly was turning, almost painfully as you raised yourself from his arm that was wrapped around you seconds ago, and probably was numb from being under your body the whole night.

You stared at his bare chest, your blankets covering until they met on his hips, and that’s when you realized you were stark naked, looking down at your body that– Oh god… You had hickies. You almost squealed but you threw a hand over your mouth, holding the noise in. You really had to go and collect yourself, because you needed to go through the events from yesterday and try to calm yourself before he wakes up because you two would definitely have a talk.

And that was the problem, about what?

You slowly took the blankets off your legs and swung them to the side, and you winced slightly at the soreness on your inner thighs. It’s been way too long since you… Since you had sex. Shit, you had sex. You slept with Eddie, your friend Eddie. Just because of a split second of horniness. You stood up before you screamed and looked around to find something that didn’t require you to open your closet in order to not make any noise.

You gulped as you grabbed onto your white cotton panties that you had taken out yesterday but decided on the black set. Where’s the bra? You can’t find it, and the only things you have are the black dress from yesterday, which is a no, a pair of gym shorts that you use for bed, and an oversized white shirt. Those two will have to do, at least for now, so you could run away from the room as soon as possible.

You grabbed onto the garments and threw them on carefully in order to not stumble and trip and probably make a fool out of yourself in front of the guy you slept with a few hours ago. You felt your face burn at that while you pulled the shirt over your head and your breathing was coming out in heavy amounts from your mouth and you quickly tiptoed out of the room, and closed the door behind you making as little noise as possible.

You let the breath that was in your lungs finally leave your body as you stepped away from your door as if it were on fire. Okay, you were alone now, Eddie is naked in your room, in your bed, because you two slept together yesterday night. Your hands ran over your face and pulled your hair back, gripping your scalp tightly, feeling your intestines just twisting all about, heart in your throat and the flow of your blood very loud in your ears. 

You started pacing back and forth, taking deep breaths as you started to think. What did this all mean? You acted out of instinct, out of urges. What were you? An animal? But Eddie didn’t seem to mind, he actually went in for more with you, didn’t he? You made all the moves of course, which you still don’t know how or why you did that, but you did and he followed. 

But what now? What is going to happen now? You crossed the line, this isn’t just a friendship anymore, friends don’t fuck eachother, at least, not your normal type of friendships don’t. How are you going to explain yourself? What if he asks why you did what you did yesterday? What are you going to tell him? ‘Hey, I realized that I am heavily attracted to you.’

Sure, that is true, but what would that mean between the two of you? What are his feelings about this and… how did he feel yesterday? Were you enough? Were you good? He seemed to enjoy himself, but you didn’t really do much, so did he like it? Did he really want to do that with you? 

“Fuck…” You were biting on your thumb’s skin next to your fingernail again. You really don’t know what is going on, you really have no idea how to move from this. This is the first time you actually felt good while having sex, and you really never in your life experienced what he did to you yesterday. Your eyes widened as you stood in place, eyes widening as another curse left your lips.

The burning in your belly was back.

How was this not enough? You went all the way with him, with a man you are actually attracted to, so why are you still yearning for more? It made no sense, and how your body reacts to the memory of him in between your legs is absolutely ridiculous. You looked at the door once, licking your bottom lip as your mind became slightly hazy again.

Maybe you can act normally? Just, go back into his arms in bed, see where that takes you, see him as he wakes up and smiles at you, and you two would probably talk about the fries from yesterday night and how you didn’t get actual dinner. He would ask for some pancakes again, and then you would gladly make them.

He would like that right? Waking up with breakfast? You can do that, just normally, like the other day you were at his home. Everything was normal after that, and everything can be normal after last night. You can do this. It’s going to be completely fine, you just don’t have to think too much about it, and maybe he won’t either. You took a deep breath in and walked towards your kitchen to start on preparing some coffee and then start grabbing the ingredients for your chocolate chip pancakes. 

You were taking deep breaths, trying to concentrate on your cooking. Eggs, milk, flour, chocolate chips in. You froze. You put the chocolate chips into the batter. Just how he likes it. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Your guts turned again as you kept stirring the batter, over and over again, the gears in your head making you dizzy as the thoughts started reappearing again.

He is going to wake up soon, what are you going to say? Act normal, that’s what you settled on, but now you don’t remember what normal is. How is normal after this? What is normal about any of this? It’s not. It’s definitely not normal to sleep with your friend. Are you going to keep being friends? Oh, what if he doesn't even want to be friends? How are you going to be able to handle that?

The smell of coffee snapped you out again and you looked down at the batter, letting a breath come out of your lips to finally put the pan on the stove. You grabbed onto one of your plates as you started cooking the pancakes, trying to just focus on making them the perfect shape, cooking them just right, letting the air be filled with the sweet smell–

“Shit darling, that smells good.” 

You froze on your fourth pancake, with the spatula underneath it about to turn it over. Your heart was in your throat now, maybe your ears, you didn’t know, but there was a sharp noise ringing in your eardrums, blocking any sounds coming from around you, including Eddie’s steps that were being taken towards you. 

He was now behind you, you could feel his presence on your back, your chest heaving up and down as you stared down, not noticing that the pancake was starting to burn already. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t know what to say, how to act, how to move, and your body simply grew into a cold sweat, your hand trembling with the utensil still in your grasp.

Eddie has actually been awake the moment you made him roll over in the bed. He kept his eyes closed because his heart was in his throat, and he knew he had to give you time. He knew he had to leave you alone to gather your thoughts on what happened, and he couldn’t simply dive in and envelop you again, even if that was what he wanted the most. Once you were out of the room, he sat up too quickly and ran his hands through his hair as his eyes stared widely on the comforters of the bed.

He slept with you. The thing he didn’t believe to happen at all, happened, which was you showing him what you wanted to do with him. You had the guts that he didn’t have. You made the first moves, all of them, and his mind and self control completely shut off last night, but so did yours. He felt his south area beginning to harden again as he remembered last night, your body, your taste, and he didn’t even do head. He almost never did, but he was desperate for you last night, and he still is. 

When you started losing yourself to your lust against him, he really thought he had gone to heaven at that very moment. He could have died a happy man yesterday after what happened, but then he wouldn’t get more. He wouldn’t be able to taste you again, to feel you again, to hold you again, and he wanted to, crazily so. He wasn’t going to let this be a one time thing, and he needed to tell you just that, but he knew you were processing yourself right now, after all, it was the first time you had acted out of impulse to your urges.

He held back a grin as he bit his bottom lip, dropping his hands on the bed. You let go with him, which meant, hopefully, that you reciprocated what he was feeling. You weren’t a friend, not anymore. He didn’t want you to be. He actually had decided, selfishly so, to not be your friend any longer almost a month ago. It had hit him like a train really, not even thinking that you would crawl under his skin the way you did, but the more time he spent with you, the more time you two talked about each other, and to be even interested in one another’s life stories, he knew he was a goner.

His head snapped towards the door as he heard you pacing around the living room and his gut turned with nervousness as his fingers trembled with the need of going and console you, to tell you what he was feeling, to tell you that everything is just fine, and he wishes he could tell you that everything is okay and that nothing changes… But he can no longer say that. There was no way he was letting you go this time, he wasn’t going to pretend to be normal, he wasn’t going to pretend like you didn’t kiss him fucking stupid last night, he wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t have the best night of his life just a few hours ago.

Minutes later, his nose caught the smell of coffee, and then a sweet smell. Pancakes. You were making him pancakes. He smiled widely at that, because despite you probably having a breakdown, or being nervous right now, you still decided to make breakfast for him. He took a deep breath in, getting up from the bed to throw on his boxers and pants, looking over at his shirt. If he dresses himself, fully, he was afraid of you thinking that everything was done with, and it was anything but. Shirtless it is. 

So now, he stands behind you, noticing how stiff you got, and the smell of burnt pancake filled his nostrils. His hand raised up to slowly graze over your wrist that was holding the spatula, and you almost jumped at the touch, but he held onto your wrist instantly, pulling it up so that the pancake would lift from the pan and throwing it on the plate next to the stove. He could almost hear your breathing from how hard it was, and truly, he was holding his own back in order to not make you any more nervous. 

His eyes then darted towards the bowl with batter in it, and he almost looked away when he noticed you had put the chocolate chips inside it this time, instead of sprinkling them on top of the pancake while it was cooking. The corner of his lip turned upwards at the gesture, and his chest puffed up with pride and with hope but for now, he had to snap you back into reality, because you were still frozen in his hold.

“Angel… It’s just me.” Those three words that always seemed to calm you for some reason, those three words that simply made all your nerves go away, even if little. Knowing it was just Eddie, knowing he wasn’t there to judge you, or criticize you, or call you out, but just be there for you, with you. You took a big gulp while you gripped onto the spatula even harder. 

“I–” No words were coming out. There was no way you could talk at this moment, because you actually didn’t know what to say, where to start, or how to even begin to describe what you were feeling or what you were thinking, but it seems you didn’t have to think too hard, because he was already blabbering, getting hold of the bowl with some batter left.

“See? It’s less messier when you already put the chocolate chips in.” You blink dumbly at his words, looking at the bowl. He tipped some in the pan, and his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth as he stuck his finger in the batter and dragged more chocolate chips into that specific pancake. That actually made you snap out.

“Don’t touch the batter with your fingers!” You exclaim at him as you wiggle the pan a bit to get all the edges with the mix. You heard him chuckle next to you as he set the bowl down.

“It needed more chocolate chips! That’s mine by the way.” He said pointing at the pancake that was already cooking and it was more chocolate than the mix. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. He stuck his finger inside his mouth, licking the batter off it.

“More chocolate chips next time, got it.” You said almost in a groan but he didn’t miss the ‘next time’ part. His mind went places. Waking up with you next to him, cuddling until midday, both of you not getting out of bed even if you needed to pee and only till your bellies grumbled that you two would get up to go make some pancakes together, laughter filling the kitchen as he shoves way too many chocolate chips in the mix and you yell at him for being too reckless. 

“I’m feeling fancy for next time, maybe add some blueberries in it? Or, hear me out… marshmallows.” He says and you cringed at the sweetness of it all, but also a small giggle came out of your throat as you flipped the pancake on the pan. 

“That’s a s'mores pancake… You can literally just have S’mores.” You say and you hear him chuckle next to you, as he walks towards the coffee pot, and sees that you had already prepared two empty cups to pour the liquid in. He filled his cup in black coffee, but yours only half. He walked towards your fridge to get your vanilla creamer out, and finally filled the rest of your coffee with it. You didn’t miss the gesture, a strong heat invading your belly and cheeks. 

“It’s not the same! The S’mores have biscuits. Pancakes are fluffier, imagine how much fluffier they would be with marshmallows inside. Honestly, I think we’re onto something here sweetheart.” You flip the pancake onto the stack you had next to the stove and turn it off because you believed five pancakes were fine for the two of you. “Or maybe we can add some mint in them.”

That made your mouth drop open, your head snapping to your side to look at him with widened and disgusted eyes, but you froze again when you saw him. The back of his hip was resting on the counter as he looked at you with a smile to his face, one hand holding a mug, the other was handing you yours. You didn’t realize that you were talking normally to him until now. How did Eddie do it? Every single time? 

“T-Thanks…” You say as you look down from his eyes but it was a bad idea. He was shirtless. Oh, the fucking flashbacks. Your whole body heated up at the memories of your nails going all over his skin, all over his chest, all over his arms. You took a large gulp out of your coffee and you clenched your eyes at the taste. It was the perfect measurement. 

“I had to bring your despise for mint for you to look at me.” He lets out with a small chuckle, taking a sip of his own coffee. You blinked down at your cup, not really knowing where to go from here. Should you apologize? Should you tell him that he should forget about it? But why would you say something so hypocritical when you didn’t want to forget about it? 

“I– I– just don’t know–” You tried to say out loud but your throat went dry at those few words, making you take more sips out of your mug, and he sighed, taking one last sip of his, putting his cup on the counter. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking Angel. I need to know what you’re thinking.” And how do you even begin? You don’t even know what you feel, you don’t even know if it was right, if it was wrong, but the only thing you knew, is that you desired Eddie, that you were attracted to him in ways that not even god could define. But you won’t tell him that, because that’s when you would crawl into a hole and disappear from the world.

“I– I really don’t know– Yesterday… I never–” You blabbered, stuttered, and he was being patient as he looked at you, hands trembling with the cup in between them. He felt his chest about to explode but he still waited, wanting to hear you, to understand you, but he knew your mind was just a jumbled mess, he can hear it in the tremble on your voice and in the way your eyes were going back and forth as if looking for an answer somewhere.

He raised his hand up to place it on the cheek that was not facing him, and you immediately froze again. He leaned down and forward to press a soft kiss on the cheek facing him this time, and your body felt like it melted away, your bones going all soft and wiggly on you, a sigh escaping your lips at the touch of his lips on your skin. For some reason, this gesture made some of the black clouds move away from your mind, leaving some space for clarity, for you to slowly turn your head to face him again as he pulled away from you, his thumb caressing your cheek in gentle circles.

“Do you regret it? Because let me tell you darling, I sure as hell don’t.” Even if your heart wanted to burst into a million pieces from how hard it was beating, your eyes still widened at his words, surprise taking all over your features.

“Y-You don’t?” You asked with a hint of confusion in your tone as well. He licked his lips as his throat closed up on him, but he gulped it down so that he could keep talking. You were just too beautiful right now, looking up at him with those eyes that he adored. 

“I did mean what I said yesterday.” He says and you tilt your head at that, trying to remember everything that was said at the bar, or when you walked your way to it with him, and he smiled at you, pulling his hand off your face, grabbing the mug out of your hands and placing it on the counter next to his. Your eyebrows knitted together at that, looking at the cup leaving your grasp.

“Why—” You began to ask, but when you looked back up at him, your mouth immediately closed, seeing the serious face he had on. It made your heart jump slightly as well as your stomach, not knowing how his smile turned into this serious look. His hand raised to pinch on the side of your shirt with his fingers and tugged you in front of him, almost making you stumble at the sudden jerk. He then pressed that same hand on your waist, firmly, while the other raised up to gently hold your cheek to make you look up at him.

“You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted last night to happen.” He says while looking down at you, his eyes searching for yours as a gasp was caught in your throat, your body heating up at his words and your head was about to look down, but he held you in place, shaking his head at you. “No, keep looking at me.” 

“B-But I didn’t do— I didn’t do anything—” He shook his head again, your eyes trying to avoid his as you talked, now your chest thumping wildly, blood pumping everywhere in your body at a very accelerated pace, and you didn’t notice how your voice was trembling and how you were slowly beginning to shake in his grasp.

“I need you to calm down baby… It’s really just me.” He gave small circles on your cheek, which made your eyes look back at him, your mind going blank. He wanted last night to happen? He wanted to sleep with you? Many questions were going through your mind but only one was voiced out.

“We had sex.” His eyebrows raised up in surprise, a smile appearing on his lips, dimples showing off, but you were still completely bewildered as you blinked at him, your mind just trying to work overtime now for you. “You-You saw me naked, I saw you naked—” 

“Pretty necessary for having sex Angel.” He says with a laugh this time, and that only made your brain simply burn off, steam coming off the top of your head. You gulped as his laughter slowly tuned down, the turning in your belly and the doubt in your mind now cooperating to formulate another question.

“Why— Why with me?” You managed to ask, and that made Eddie’s laugh completely turn off, only for you to continue. “I-I’m just… not—” And he knew who you were comparing yourself to. The clients in the club stood no chance against you, they really didn’t, but you didn’t believe that. He weighed his options, and he decided it would be better to show you.

“You’re not what?” His hand left your cheek to mimic his other one, pressing on your waist, now firmer than before, and he pulled your body flush into his, and your eyes widened up at him. He leaned down close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin, sending shivers down your spine as the fire in your belly ignited once more. “Feel what you do to me by just standing in your kitchen in an oversized white shirt.” 

Against your belly was the same hardness you felt yesterday night on your hip. The one you felt rubbing itself against your center. The one you felt against your thigh when he climbed over towards you. And now, you didn’t have the dress on, your makeup was smudged and you cleaned it up with your fingers as much as you could, you probably smell like sweat… and he still wants you.

He couldn’t help himself, being close to your ear, to your skin, and his mouth instantly pressed a gentle kiss under your earlobe, a gasp coming out of your lips as the touch left your skin burning. You should ask him, you should talk to him, stop and try to think for a second, but that was the problem right now, you didn’t want to, and it seems that he didn’t either. 

His kiss trailed down towards your neck, soft lips pressing against your pulse point, and your hands raised up shakily to hold onto his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin, and his own digits dug into your waist, trying to have a cable back to earth, but his self control was slipping away again the more he took your scent in, the more he tasted you again on his lips. 

More. More. More.

Now that chant was on repeat in his mind as well, at the same time it was happening in yours. He was repeating your actions from yesterday, letting himself go, his mouth doing the work for him, not a single thought running in his head except for the need to hold you again, just running his lips on your skin again.

“I really mean it…” He mumbled in your neck, more kisses being left there as he kissed his way from one side to the other, making your head turn with soft breaths escaping your mouth which was making his brain simply scramble into nothing. “You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted you.” 

His voice was low, and your belly was burning with need again, your hands slowly trailing over his biceps to rest one hand on his shoulder, the other around his neck, pulling him into you, making his kisses turn hungrier, not being able to hold it and sucking on your skin to mark you, to leave you the reminder that this happened between you both, for you to look at it at every hour today, and tomorrow, and he wishes that by the end of today he would be able to retrace his mark again and again, not letting it fade at all, even if weeks went by. 

“Eds—” You softly mumble as a moan escapes your lips, your eyes half lidded as you bathe in his attention. You heard a soft groan against your skin, only for the warmth that was there to simply vanish as he pulled away from you. Before you could complain, before you could ask, before the gears in your brain could start working again, his lips found yours, making your nails grip onto his shoulder even tighter.

He was hungry, and it wasn’t for the pancakes, and he made it known by how he instantly started moving his lips against yours, rough, yet with deepness, with care, swallowing your breaths into his mouth, taking everything he could from you. You didn’t even had time to process what was happening, except for your desire to start talking for you as well, and your brain was simply processing the words ‘Fuck it’.

You started returning his kiss in the same manner, the hand on his neck going to his nape to pull him even deeper into you, your other hand sliding off his shoulder to rub against his bicep and he groaned into you, your touch making his gut turn in excitement, in nervousness, in need, just by you scratching your nails on his skin, not even on an erogenous zone. He sort of cursed you in his head for the way you made him feel like putty in just two seconds and with just one touch.

He ran his tongue over your bottom lip, and your mouth instantly invited him in, a moan of yours escaping into his as his tongue pressed against yours. You felt him even harder against your belly, making the heat in your center reappear at an alarming rate, almost too hot for you to handle. Now that you knew what he could do to you, this burning was even worse than before. It was much, much worse, but you didn’t hate it, you didn’t dislike it and you didn’t want to push it away.

His hands finally moved from your waist, and you gasped into the kiss as you felt his fingertips gliding underneath the hem of your shirt, pulling it up as he finally pressed his hand against your bare back, flushing you into him, and you shivered at how big his palm was against you, how hot it felt, but another gasp escaped you when you felt his other hand cup the round of one of your cheeks, now pressing you against his bottom half even harder.

He moaned in his throat and you melted at the sound, your tongue still dancing with his as his hands pressed against you, rubbed, groped, simply felt as if wanting to remember every part of your skin and body, on how your skin was soft yet warm under his palms. Your minds were filled with one another, not wanting to separate at all, and he needed you again, screw the pancakes, he can eat those later, right after he has you.

He had to guide you to your bedroom, you need to know how much he wants you still, how much he will want you after, and the days to come, and he is certain he is not going to ever get tired of you, not when you taste like this, when you feel like this, when you burn like this. 

He pushed himself off the counter, ready to begin to guide you back to where you both woke up minutes ago. You were going to let him, your belly turning anxiously as you let yourself wanting him again, and maybe this time you can try to make him feel good too. You want to really make him feel good, just like he did yesterday and the other night. You were eager to learn what he liked, eager to hear him moan because of what you do to him, and you never in your life thought you would be eager to do something like that before.

The music of Master of Puppets suddenly filled the room and your eyes opened like plates.

You two pulled away, brows furrowed together as you both looked around to where it was coming from. Eddie finally spotted his jacket on the floor, just where he left it yesterday and he cursed under his breath. He had to let you go to actually answer the phone. 

“Hang on sweetheart.” He gave you a small peck on the lips before letting go of your body, and you just stood there, frozen as you felt the cold hitting your skin again. What happened? How did you go from making pancakes to almost having sex with him once more? How did that happen in such a short lapse of time?

He grabbed his jacket from the floor, grimacing slightly at it because he just left a wet patch on the floor, not letting it dry properly so it was still kind of wet in some folds. He dug into his pocket for his phone, pulling it out to look at the caller ID. He blinked a few times at it and when he didn’t answer is when you turned your head to look at him.

“Eds…?” You called him out, almost breathlessly and he turned to look at you with a small smile on his face.

“I have to get this Angel, I’ll be back.” You watched him put the jacket on the counter to then go back into your room, closing the door behind him. Your breath finally left your lungs, the burning calming down slightly, but not quite. You gulped heavily as you licked your lips, and you knew they were red and plump from the kissing you just did. You couldn’t help but feel… Happy. That’s how you felt, a small smile appearing on your lips.

You didn’t mind your mind shutting off when it came to him, you really didn’t. But the uneasiness of not knowing what all of this meant came back, but not because he was not clarifying it with you. It was because you weren’t being clear with yourself. What did this all mean? Why were you like this? Was this really how simple attraction felt like?

Your ear picked up movement in your room, and you really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you really couldn’t help yourself, and it only took two steps for you to listen to Eddie’s low voice through the door. Even when he wanted to speak in whispers he was loud.

“Yeah, I heard you… I forgot about today, but I can— Yeah…— Okay, see you later then–.” 

You blinked at those words, brows knitting together in confusion. Who was he talking to? You heard more shuffling and you panicked, not wanting him to know you were listening to his conversation and you went back towards the pancakes, now cold and you pretended to prepare a plate for you to put one on when you heard the door open. Your blood pumped in your veins in a wildly manner as you turned to see Eddie with his turtleneck on, boots thumping on your floor as he mumbled curses under his breath. 

“Are you alright?” It was the first question that popped in your head, because he didn’t look happy at all, and seeing him in his clothes again made your mood instantly drop, realizing that he was leaving. 

“Yeah– Um… I have to go… Steve needs me to take him somewhere– Kind of forgot about it.” He says to you with a small smile to his face, almost forced and you stood still in your place, not really knowing what to do. He saw your hesitation, so he took the steps between the both of you, his hands cupping your face, leaning down to place a soft peck on your lips. Your breath hit his face as he pulled away, but lingered over your lips, and you couldn’t help but voice out the first question that came to mind.

“You really have to go?” And Eddie wanted to die right then and there. You didn’t want him to leave, but fuck, he had to go. His knees almost buckled at your voice yet, he nodded with a saddened look on his face.

“Yeah… But we’ll talk later okay? We really do need to talk… Right Angel?” Your eyes locked with his at those words, and your face flushed in a way that wasn’t because of embarrassment, but just pure adoration. You nodded, almost dumbly at his words, making a smile appear on his lips. He gave you a peck on your lips again, not really wanting to go without his dose and he has to quickly pull away before he gets distracted with you once again. 

He pulled away from you and you felt your body completely warm now, not even cold, not even if he pulled away from you. He grabbed onto his jacket with one hand and walked towards the door, opening it to then look towards the counter. He rushed back to grab onto two full pancakes, shoving them in his mouth, the rest still sticking out, making your eyes go wide, afraid he’ll choke.

“Eddie!” He smiled at you with the pancakes between his teeth, winking at you before doing a little jog out of the door, closing it behind him, finally leaving you alone in your home. 

Your hands immediately went towards your mouth, covering it to contain your screams, afraid that he was still out there. You were feeling so many things at one single moment. Nervousness, fear, happiness, indecisiveness, embarrassment, delight, and arousal. All of that was happening in one single moment which was making your heart rate pick up even more than before.

You were going to have a stroke by the end of the day, you knew that. And he wants to talk. What does he want to talk about? What are you supposed to talk about? What are you supposed to say? To feel? How do you even start the conversation with him? What is going to be your new normal? What did you want it to be?

You absentmindedly grabbed onto one pancake and took a bite out of it, only to spit it out onto the plate in disgust. 

It was the burnt one.

He hasn’t spoken to you all day, and that made you anxious. It’s already 7 PM, and it’s his day off, so he should be available, right? You could message him, but what do you even want to say? Hi? How are you? How was your day?

There is no way you could be normal with this, you can’t act normal, not when you had to actually clean your room after yesterday’s night. Not when you discovered the ball of paper on the night table that wasn’t yours, only to open it up and find the used condom inside, and that made your memories just hit you like a car at great speed, almost knocking you over.

How can you act normal after that?

Your phone started ringing, the ringtone of The Shire started going off and your heart leaped, and you rushed from your room towards your kitchen where the noise was coming from, grabbing it from the counter, only for your face to frown into a disappointed one seeing it was Robin. That made you feel a little bit guilty, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when you’ve been waiting all these hours for him to talk to you again. You slid the button to answer her, her face coming up on the screen, a big smile on her lips.

“Hi Rob–”

“SHE SAID YES!” That startled you, completely, almost throwing the phone to the floor. You blinked a few times as you regained the posture, as Robin’s blabbering kept going on the phone and you raised a hand towards your camera to stop her.

“Robs, Robs– I don’t understand a word you’re saying, where are you?” You frowned at seeing her on what appeared to be the mall, just walking while talking to you.

“Vickie said yes to my date!” She says excitedly and your chest warms up with joy, a smile spreads on your lips as you start bouncing in your place, and she mimics you, both of you looking completely dumb but you didn't care, nor did she.

"Holy shit!" You yell with her as you spin in your place and she laughs, a vibrant blush on her cheeks as she looks at you.

"I know!" She yells again and probably caught the attention of many people that were walking near her and you hear her say a small 'sorry' to someone, making you giggle.

"How did it happen?" You asked her, going to sit on your couch, excitement clear in your voice. She was still with a smile on her face, almost crazy looking, making you laugh at her face.

"She called me to ask me about something; I really don't even remember what it was, I think it was something about a recipe? Anyways, at the end of it I just– She just looked too pretty, you have no idea, and I blurted it out." You covered your mouth with your hand as shock washed over you. You never really imagined Robin to be straightforward, but it seems she bursted at the seams.

"Wow Robin… Why are you in the mall? When is it? Where are you both going?" The questions blurted out of your mouth like a machine gun, making Robin blush even more.

"We are going to the movies tonight, and I am getting something different than what I always wear, because I realized all my clothes look the fucking same, and maybe– Do I get her some roses? Chocolates? I’ve never been on a formal date, I don’t know how this works, I am losing my mind–”

“Robin, Jesus calm down, I bet that Vickie doesn’t care, she already said yes to a date, knowing it wasn’t a friendly outing.” You tell her and she seemed to calm down with that, giving you a soft nod as if in understanding.

“You are right… God, I just– I just like her so much…” You can see Robin’s dreamy eyes as she enters one of the stores, scanning all of the clothes that might be there, but your mind starts to wander. Robin didn’t know anything, not even that you kissed Eddie. Maybe she did because she’s friends with Steve, but she never really said anything about it… But–

“Robs?” You call out to her, heart thumping in your ears as you let your words come out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” She was still looking above the camera, and you could hear the hangers simply moving from side to side as she browsed. You cleared your throat and licked your lips, stammering a bit in your words as you tried to word your thoughts without giving yourself away.

“How do you even know it is not a simple attraction? What you feel for Vickie.” You say to her, biting on your tongue almost as the nerves in your belly started spiraling as she looked quizzically down at the phone.

“What?”

“I never experienced it, so– I mean, liking someone is simply being attracted to them, right?” 

“Oh honey, no.” You sat frozen at that, blinking at the phone, your whole body just completely still on your couch as you processed her words. What? When you didn’t answer, she continued talking. “You start with attraction, then it develops into something else.”

Your heart picked up a pace again, and the hand holding the phone was growing quite the sweat. What did she mean by that? Why does it feel like she is saying something that you needed to hear? Why does it feel like she is caging you? 

“And how do you even know that?” You manage to ask, and your mind for some reason is afraid of the answer. Afraid to finally come to terms with something you thought it was going to be impossible for you. 

“Well, you are still attracted to them, but… You want to know about them, wake up with them by your side… I don’t know, I guess– When you are with them, and you can laugh afterwards, but still want them later on… You just want— More.”

Your eyes widened as plates at that, heart finally coming to a stop.

More. More. More.

“Oh god…” You let those words come out as a soft breath, Robin not really hearing you, too busy finding a shirt for her date, while you were having a complete breakdown on this discovery of yours. You found the word for your feelings. The word that scares you even at the deep of your gut. The word that you don’t even know if it’s reciprocated, and you are scared to even know if it is.

And now you came to realize that it’s not recent. It’s not something that happened after the first kiss even. Even when he hugged you, you always wanted more. When he held your hand, you always wanted more. When he laughed with you and you didn’t want it to ever stop, you just wanted more. It was never enough, it could never be enough, not when it came to him. You were screwed.

You fell for Eddie. Deeply. 

Your body trembled with realization, with desperation to have him back with you because now that you know what name to put on your feelings, you just felt this incredible need of having him, shower him with affection, not even be nervous around him, you just needed to hold him again, kiss him again, touch him again, spend time with him again. 

You were nervous, anxious even, but there was still hope in your heart, hope that he feels the same for you, hope that he wants you more than just friendship. He wants to talk to you about what happened yesterday, he wants to talk it out and now you know where you are headed. Now you know how to start the conversation. Now you know what to tell him. 

“Hey, you there?” You hear Robin, making you snap completely out of your thoughts, blinking rapidly at the screen. Your friend had a small smirk on her lips, or you thought she had it, because it fell down as soon as you looked at the camera.

“Y-Yeah, I just– I remembered I have to um… get some ingredients for today’s dinner. I have nothing in my fridge.” You manage to blurt out the lie, but in your head you were already making plans, not being able to hold your words back, knowing where to go now.

“Oh, then if it’s that… Go to the grocery store… I’ll tell you everything after my date, okay?” Robin had a knowing smile on her face as she spoke to you and you really wanted to question her if she knew, but it was going to be a conversation that would take too long and you needed to run out of your apartment right at this very second.

“Yeah! I hope everything goes well Robs!” You say quickly, kind of feeling guilty for squashing over your friend’s success but it seems as if Robin didn’t really mind it, waving at you.

“Hopefully! Talk to you later!” And you said a soft ‘bye’ and hung up the call. You blinked a few times at the phone. Should you call him? Tell him– No, he has his day off. Your legs started working again as your breathing became erratic with emotion, with excitement, never in your life feeling this way before.

You finally know what everyone meant when they talked about crushes, and love. You never felt that excitement, never felt that interest, never really believed they were telling you the truth about it, but now you know it is, because your heart was exploding but in such a good way, in a perfect way that only Eddie managed to do. 

Your feet took you to your room to throw on a pair of jeans, changing from your pajama pants, and then a random shirt, changing it from your oversized shirt that you were still wearing since the morning because it still held Eddie’s scent. His perfume stuck to the collar of the fabric and you whimpered when you took it off, but you had to be quick. You almost fell on your ass when you wiggled yourself forcefully into your sneakers.

You didn’t even grab your purse, just your phone and your car and house keys. You never ran so fast out of the complex and towards your car, with a smile plastered on your face all the while. When you sat yourself in front of the steering wheel, you couldn’t even believe what you were doing, what your feet were taking you, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore, just like last night.

Last night you finally exploded, wanting to finally feel him entirely, and the fact that you want, NEED more, is a sign that you have to talk it out, say that to him, say that you want more, be honest and let yourself go. Your keys got into the ignition hole, and you took a deep breath as you started your journey into the streets, your heart in your throat pumping quicker as you approached your destination.

You were probably insane, you were probably going to make a scene, and you didn’t even know how to word anything of what you were feeling properly, but you were sure you were going to say everything to him. You knew you had to. No matter how it comes out of your mouth, no matter what you have to do to get your words through, you will try and you will tell him that you like him, that you are falling for him, that you might even already have fallen to the deep end.

You parked right in front of his complex, and an old man was opening the main door to the lobby, making you rip yourself from the seatbelt and bolting out of your car, pressing the lock button over your shoulder as you reached the door, holding it open for the old man who thanked you as you anxiously waited for him to go through. Once he did, you ran towards the elevators, pressing the buttons desperately.

You looked at the numbers going down and you were chanting ‘come on, come on’ under your breath. Once the metal doors opened, you ran inside, quickly pressing his apartment’s button, almost to the point of breaking it. The door closed and you took many deep breaths in, but a smile was on your face as your ears rang from the excitement. You weren’t even thinking of the possibility of rejection, you just wanted this feeling to be known, for him to know, for him to understand.

The doors opened and you took a slow step out as you stared at his apartment door. Was this the right decision? Right now? Not even messaging him to tell him you were coming over? He had errands to run today, what if he is not home yet? But the light underneath the door frame told you otherwise, sparking your excitement once again. You walked towards the door, and took one last deep breath in. This was it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You waited, deep breaths coming out of your lips as you waited, rocking on the balls of your feet, back and forth, and that’s when you heard shuffling on the other side of the door, a sniffle, slippers sliding against the wooden floor, and a click of the lock was heard. When it opened, you found a very sick Steve Harrington in front of you, red nose and all, hair all over the place, his blue robe on his body and your eyes widened at the sight.

“Shit, Steve, are you okay?” You ask him and he was almost wobbly, greeting you with your name and nodding. He actually took so many tylenol and dayquil that his mind was just trying to survive at this point.

“Yeah, peachy, never felt greater in my life…” You winced at his sarcasm and he sniffled holding himself with his hand on the doorframe, his eyes completely droopy from the mucus that was on his sinus. “What brings you here, sweetness?” You straightened up again at his question, but you tilted your head in question this time, remembering that Eddie told you he had to take Steve somewhere… maybe the hospital?

“Oh, I just— I came to see Eddie.” Steve scoffed at that, and sniffled again.

“He is not here.” He says and you tilt your head in confusion again. Maybe he went to grab something to eat?

“Oh, I just assumed it’s his day off so…” You mentioned to him, and you were hoping you would get the information out of his mouth, a mouth that at this moment had no filter, and no rationality or perception.

“He must be with a client.” He says and you just blink up at him, and your mind for some reason was telling you that you should leave, that you should not hear any longer, that you have to run from there, but your feet never moved.

“A client?” You choke out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible and Steve wobbles a bit, trying to focus on your face, but failing to do so. He waved his hand around as he explained himself.

“Yeah, his second job. He did tell you about it right?”

“The job… that…”

“Private meetings with clients. Mainly sex really.” 

Your heart dropped at that, falling right into your stomach. You were staring at Steve as if he had just stabbed you with a sword, just impaling you without any kind of mercy, and the gears in your mind started working, but instead of moving forward, they went backwards. Your hands were starting to tremble, not wanting to believe what Steve was saying.

“That– Today?” You choke out, holding a sob in your throat as your knees start to give up on you. This couldn’t be happening, not right after the best night of your life, not after realizing what you felt for him, not after he said those things to you.

“Yeah, I mean, sometimes we do it for money, sometimes just for pleasure, so that’s why I don’t know when he’ll be back.” He blurts out and that’s when your world stopped.

He lied. He lied to you. He said he was going with Steve today, but Steve is too sick to even move… The call– The words you heard– You wanted to vomit, nausea washing over your stomach as the puzzle came together in your head, slowly, and when it finally clicked, when it all clicked.

And your eyes couldn’t look at Steve’s face any longer.

“O-Oh, y-yeah, he told me, I must have forgotten…” Your voice was small, your body shaking as your gaze couldn’t handle Steve’s neck, nor his chest, nor his legs, until you were entirely looking at the floor. Your body was shaking almost, and you had to run away. You had to leave. You were suffocating. You needed air.

“Do you want me to–” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence, taking a step back from him as his cologne invaded your sense of smell.

“No. He– He will make fun of my… poor memory… Um… Don’t tell him I came here, I’ll… just message him later.” Your voice became smaller and smaller at each word that came out of your lips, and Steve, poor Steve, was so out of it that he didn’t notice anything wrong. 

“Okay, see you later Sweetness.” Your body almost gagged and jerked forward at the nickname, but you stayed put, still looking at the floor. Your mind was shutting down, you needed to leave.

“B-Bye.” You couldn’t even say his name as you turned around, walking back towards the elevator and pressing the button to go down, hearing the door closing before your metal doors shut together. Your eyes were still on the floor, not daring to look up as you tried, you really tried to make those last words disappear from your brain, but they were on repeat, and your body was numb.

You felt numb, automatic, going towards your car, and you don’t even remember starting it, you don’t remember how you even got to your complex, you don’t remember if you locked your car or not as you entered your apartment, your lost gaze just not centering on anything. You threw the keys on the counter, just simply dropping them somewhere as your feet slowly took you towards the bathroom. 

He has a second job. He has a sex working job. And he has had it even before he met you, and he never quit it, and Steve said that he does it for pleasure sometimes. Was this one of the times? Right after last night with you? Maybe there was a mistake? Maybe that’s not what Eddie’s doing? 

But he wasn’t home, and the fact was that he still has that job. He still does it because Steve said it as if it were a frequent thing. How many times have you messaged him or talked to him while he was with a client? Did he go to them after kissing you? Touching you? Sleeping with you? Were you not good? Were you not enough? Were you simple? Were you too complicated? 

You took a deep breath in, trying to calm your heart, feeling it ripping at your chest, urging to come out of your body, to cry out, to yell into the sky and mourn. Your guts were twisting painfully, and you held your stomach just in case you had to turn around to empty your stomach out, because your world was spiraling all around you and it was making you dizzy. 

Why didn’t he ever tell you about this job? Why wasn’t he honest with you from the very beginning? Maybe if he did you wouldn’t have fallen for him. Maybe if he did you would have been more cautious. Maybe if he did you wouldn’t feel like this, this sick, this dizzy, this broken. Why would he hide it from you? 

You looked at your hands and saw that they were shaking at a very quick pace and you knew you were on the brink of a nervous breakdown, you could feel it. You held your chest as you tried to take deep breaths in and out again, trying to calm yourself down, trying to make everything make sense once again, trying to find a reasonable reason for everything, if there was any.

You turned to look at the sink, turning the faucet on and hunching downwards to finally wash your face, trying to make the cold water make you snap out of how bad your head was starting to hurt, how your throat felt like it was closing up at an alarming rate, and your oxygen felt like it was starting to run short. Your lungs were compressed inside your chest, making it slightly painful but nothing hurt more than your heart.

You straightened up with a heavy breath, a long pained huff, shakiness evident as you gripped onto the sink and finally, your eyes looked at your reflection. Every movement in your body stopped. Every tremble, every thought, every blood cell going through your veins, just everything froze as you stared at yourself… And the gears in your head started going backwards, even further, deeper, darker.

He lied to you. He lied to you. He lied to you. 

You were never good enough, you were never going to compare, and somehow you always knew that, yet… He made you feel beautiful, confident in your clothes, confident in your makeup, confident in the way you spoke, in the way you expressed yourself, in the way you moved. He helped you. He helped you. Helped you.

HE SHAPED YOU.

“No…” You tried telling yourself as your body started rocking back and forth, not wanting to listen to your own brain, not wanting to hear the horrible things that it was saying about him because you were certain that he wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t do it, he didn’t seem capable of doing that. There was no evidence of him planning something like that.

But… He did say he always wanted to have you ‘like this’. Did he mean under him? Did he mean sexually? Did he mean… as if you were a conquest? A prize? You shook your head again, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be, not your Eddie, not your sweet and patient Eddie. Not the Eddie that made you feel like heaven yesterday, not the Eddie that made your life happier than it ever did before. 

Yet, if he did go to that appointment with a private client today, did it mean he wanted to be with someone experienced? That he wanted to be with someone that knows what they’re doing? Someone prettier? Someone that actually makes him feel good? Someone that knows how to actually do that without asking? A regular? 

HE GOT YOU. HE’S DONE.

No. No. No. It isn’t like that, it wasn’t a one time thing. It was never a one time thing. It shouldn’t have been a one time thing, you weren’t going to let your brain stain every memory you had of him, because in the end he was a great friend. A great friend who lied to you, a great friend that shaped you into what he liked, a great friend that you fell for.

You were trying to deny it, you were trying really hard, you can still talk to him, you can still ask him if it were true, but you knew it was, you knew that he was fucking other people, you knew that you weren’t special, you knew he didn’t feel the same as you did. Your mind was hazy now, dark patches blocking your eyesight as you felt the all too well burning sensation in them. 

Your breathing started coming out of your mouth in huge gasps as you rocked back and forth, still looking at your reflection, looking at who you were now, looking at how different you are from before, looking at what you thought was what you actually wanted to look like… But what if it was never that? What if it was a plan all along? What if he saw it as a challenge? What if you were a challenge and he just wanted you perfect to his taste? This wasn’t you. This wasn’t you. This isn’t you.

HE MOLDED YOU.

A rough groan ripped from your throat as you pushed yourself away from the sink, tumbling out of the bathroom and rushing towards your kitchen, almost breaking a drawer out as you took your plastic bags out, your breathing heavy, angry, chest puffing out and down again, pain rushing all over your body like a sharp electric sting, hurting every place, every joint, every organ. Your feet ran towards your room as you looked all around, your eyes red from burning, your mind now in a dark cloud full of thunder. 

You opened a plastic bag and rushed towards your vanity, putting your hand on the desk to start dragging every makeup product you bought for the past two months, grunts and pained whines escaping your throat as you pushed every mascara, lipstick, blush down into the bag.

You opened the drawers of it, now grabbing onto every piece of accessory you got, every little summer scarf he told you that looked good on you, every single thing he complimented you in was going into the bag. You can’t use that, you never used that, you didn’t know how to use any of this, so why keep lying, why keep being someone you are not for the sake of someone else?

You angrily pushed yourself off the vanity, making it rock back and forth and you stared now at your closet. You immediately grabbed another bag and you rushed towards it, flinging it open in a desperate move, getting hold of all the shirts he told you would look good in. All the jeans he helped you buy. All the sweaters he told you will look good on you in the winter.

Your tears were now running down your eyes as you threw each article of clothing into the bag, leaving behind your old stuff, your old shirts, your old jeans, your old pants, who you truly were, where you truly belonged. Secure, safe, and comfortable. You then flung the other side of the closet and your eyes widened when you saw all the jackets you never thought of buying before.

Everything was being taken off the hanger and thrown into a new bag, everything had to go, everything that reminded you of him had to go. Everything that smelled remotely like him, anything that held a memory of him had to go. All the skirts, one by one were being thrown into the bag, the shorts as well, and then the dresses. Things you never wore before in your life, the only time being your prom night. 

You started ripping them out of your closet, throwing them all into a new bag, until you finally held onto one garment. A very specific one. You looked at it as you were about to throw it in, the purple color catching your eye as you straightened up to hold onto it with both of your hands. Tears came down your cheeks as you stared at the purple dress in your grasp.

Your first ever article of new clothing. The first time he complimented you. The first time he twirled you. The first time he took you in. The first time you felt confident in something you never wore before… And it was all fake. Everything was fake. He saw you as a hard conquest, and he got you, and even shaped you into what he wanted, making you desirable for him. 

You sobbed harshly as you let your emotions finally rip from your chest, as you came down from your anger, from your thunder and all that was left was heavy rain. All that’s left is this pain in your chest of your first time feeling something you never thought you would feel, only to be ripped away seconds later. All that’s left… it’s this purple dress.

And you will still throw it into the bag.

End of part 7

A/N: I know it isn't as long as last one or the ones before, but next one is the last chapter, so... I hope I didn't hurt you all too much with this.

I hope you liked this chapter and always reblog your artists!

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[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 5 (final)

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, angry sex, p in v, anal, sex on Negan's bike, slight daddy kink, situationship

Part 4 here // Part 1 here

“Knew I’d find you here, doll.” Negan got off his bike, sighing before he sat next to me on the steps of the cabin. “Wanna tell me why the hell you just up and left?” His leg pressed against mine as I stared ahead at the ground, unable to look at him. 

“Just needed time to think.”

“Look at me.” His voice was deep, demanding, and I could hear the pain dripping from it. I refused to look at him.. refused to blink. All I could do was stare at a walker pinned to a tree in the distance like it might save me from this moment. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Negan nod disappointedly before looking away and my heart sank.  “We’ve both had enough time to think, y/n.” His voice cracked when he said my name like tears were forming in his throat. “On the drive over here, I had every intention of fighting for you. For us. But then I thought, I don't want to be with someone who isn’t certain they wanna be with me too.”

I nodded acceptingly. “That’s fair.” I refused to cry, not wanting him to see how this was affecting me. I’d be brave now, and feel sorry for myself later like always. “So why are you even here, then?” I asked and the question made Negan scoff. “Because I at least have enough respect for you to tell you goodbye.”

“I guess you don’t remember our first night together.” I scoffed back at him. 

“How can I ever fuckin’ forget? … and that? Is the problem. Buuut…” His voice changed suddenly, like he switched into the asshole character I saw at Alexandria the first time. “...If I can survive losing Lucille, I’ll damn sure be okay losing you, darlin’.” 

His words felt like a punch to my gut, leaving me numb and speechless. Negan stood after a few moments, whistling as he walked back to his bike but I was behind him before he could reach it. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” I whisper-yelled, not wanting to draw the attention of the dead. 

Negan quickly turned to face me, smirking while he towered over me. “It means.. I’ll go back to my wives at the sanctuary. And you? can sit here for the rest of your lonely little life.. wishing you still had me.” 

My only response was my hand colliding with his cheek hard enough to sting my skin and draw blood from his lip. Negan grinned wider, showing his white teeth as he wiped a drop of blood away with his thumb. There was a darkness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before and it made me wonder how I was stupid enough to ever believe there was good in him. 

“Fuck you.” My jaw clenched as I spoke and mindfully held back my fists at my sides, desperately wanting to press one into his arrogant skull. 

“Yeah?” He asked, tilting his head. “Okay.” He breathed before pulling me forward by my wrist and smashing his lips into mine. I tasted the lingering blood on his mouth and sucked harder at his lip like it was some miracle drug that would heal me from his hurtful words. 

He bit me back and I shoved him away, breathing heavily. A low grumble came from his throat before he pulled me back to him and wrapped his fingers around throat. “You want me to stop? Tell me.” His grip tightened around my neck and my lips remained closed. His head fell back as he let out a loud chuckle and returned his heavy gaze to mine. My eyes watered from the pressure building in my neck and his eyes softened along with his grip.

Negan looked away before letting go of my neck completely. For a moment I thought he felt bad about it, until he grabbed my wrist and maneuvered me to bend over his bike. I gasped when my stomach pressed into the seat and knocked the wind out of my lungs. Before I had a chance to stand, Negan yanked my shorts down along with my underwear and lined his already hard and ready cock up to my entrance. 

"You ready to stop with the dramatics, darlin'? We both know we can't stay away from each other." He slid into me with one deep push and kept himself there for a moment. "Feel how perfect that is? We were made for each other, baby." He began thrusting and my moans grew louder as heat flooded my core. 

His hand found my ponytail and he jerked it harshly, making me yelp and my back arched while his dick reached a deeper level inside me.

"Negan, fuuuuck, feels so good."

"I know baby, I know." He breathed heavily, keeping his pace fast and steady. Letting go of my ponytail, his hand dropped to my ass while the other remained squeezing my hip. I exhaled a pained breath when I felt his thumb force its way into my other hole.

"So pretty and tight." He said, looking down to watch his thumb and cock slide in and out of me simultaneously. Then suddenly he removed both and I whined at the empty feeling.

He circled the head of his dick around my asshole and my eyes went wide with the sudden painful stretch of his tip entering.

"Fuck." Negan grunted before pushing the rest of length inside me until his balls were pressed against my pussy lips. We both moaned in unison as his pace sped up. "Shit, baby, look at you. Taking daddy's cock like a fucking pro. So fucking proud of my girl." He yanked my ponytail again, hitting a spot that made me see stars.

"Negan!" I practically screamed.

His other hand reached in front of me, covering my mouth. His fingers gripped painfully around my face, bringing tears to my eyes while he ripped my insides apart.

"Goddamn it, doll. Gonna fill that little ass with my cum and watch it drip outta you. You want that? Huh?" He pulled you back further towards him, biting your neck after whispering the filthy words in your ear.

The heat continued to build in your core and you felt yourself getting close. "Yes, please Negan. I need it, please!" I begged desperately.

Negan chuckled darkly and pulled back, leaving you empty again. He finished himself off with his hand, grunting as he spilled onto the ground.

I turned around, pulling my shorts back up quickly. "What the hell?" I asked, confused at his sudden change of plans.

"Ahhh." He said relieved, buttoning himself back up and adjusting his clothing. "Something wrong, darlin'?"

I scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. "No, not at all."

"Good. Because I'm done pleasing you, sweetheart." Negan smirked at you, throwing a leg over his bike and starting the engine.

"Just like that, huh? You're just.. giving up that easy? Did I mean anything to you?"

"Of course. Always will. And when you work out your own shit and realize you fucked up, I'll be here. I love you, y/n. Nothing will change that."

I watched him disappear in the distance as he drove off, taking my heart with him.

Three weeks later:

I've settled back into Alexandria, slowly making amends with the group. The Saviors had a falling out the day we attacked the Sanctuary and we haven't seen any of them since. Except Negan.

After our escapade at the cabin, Negan had apparently drove to Alexandria and surrendered. He's been a prisoner here since the day he showed up and my heart hurts for him. I haven't been to see him, and by doing so, I'm only hurting myself. I guess its my punishment to myself for letting him go. But its been three weeks now and I can't wait any longer.

Everyone knows about our past situationship after I felt it necessary to come clean. I figured we would never be able to move on unless I told the truth. At first it didn't go well, but time mends everything and I think they're starting to forgive me.

It was getting dark when I knocked on Rick's door, explained the cause of my desperation, and he reluctantly gave me the keys to Negan's cell. Arriving at the door of the basement, I took a deep breath, and walked down the stairs into darkness. The only light in the cold room was the moonlight shining through one small window by his cell and it reminded me of our moment together in the trailer - the day I took a bullet for him. I knew then I was in love him with him and nothing has changed since.

"Negan.." I whispered, walking closer.

He lied on his back on his cot, looking up at the ceiling with a hand behind his head.

Silence.

"Please talk to me."

Nothing. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Ok, I'll talk then." I leaned against his bars. "I'm sorry it's taken me awhile to come see you. I needed some time to work out my shit - as you put it." I paused, giving him a moment to react but he didn't. "Well.. it's worked out. If you care?" I said teasingly.

His head fell to the side as he looked at me, trying not to smile. I took that as a welcome sign and quickly opened his cell door with the key. He barely had time to stand up before I ran to his arms and kissed him like my life depended on it.

He lifted me before laying me down on the cot and climbing over me. His mouth stayed connected to mine and without words, we made a million promises to each other in that moment.

We'd never leave again.

A/n: This final part was slightly difficult for me to finish. I have so many other one-shots in process that I'm ready to focus on, so I'm sorry if this felt rushed. But this entire story was so fun to write. Thanks so much to whoever requested it! <3

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[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 6

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: a lot of jerking off WC: 8.4k AN: thank you all for your patience!! i started grad school so i got a bit busy, but now i will update about once a week! thank you all for the love :) also i am so sorry about all the angst

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7

Chapter 6: Tearing

The afternoon sun filtered through his window shade and cast his room in its warm glow, but Anakin was too busy with his notes on his desk to notice. He needed something to do with his hands, just to keep himself focused, to keep his thoughts from wandering to you. To answer a practice problem, he was trying to find a specific case of heat diffusion the class had discussed--somewhere in October, he thought, but he wasn't quite sure. His desk was already messy before he began studying, but he was making it even worse with a paper thrown here, a staple there.

His eyes scanned the paper this way and that, trying to absorb any iota of information, but the words were slippery, wily things that wriggled out of his grasp. In the end, it turned out he had flipped past the page several times without seeing what he needed, and he finally found it on his fifth pass. Subconsciously, he dug his nails into his palms in frustration. Why couldn't he work? Why were you doing this to him?

His phone chimed, a text from his mom. Hey, how are finals? Doing okay?

For a few days, he'd been ducking questions about whether he was sleeping or eating enough, because he knew she'd be disappointed with his answers. He was running out of ways to change the subject in phone calls, and he knew she was catching on. Anakin decided he should probably respond.

yeah, really stressed about one of them, rest are fine. thesis going ok.

A second later, his phone lit up again.

Good luck. I'm so proud of you, Anakin, no matter what. As soon as he read it, he dropped his head into his hands. His forehead was clammy under his fingers. Of course she was proud of him unconditionally. He knew that. But he knew that he would be even prouder if he won. If he got a 4.0 this semester. Once, after he said something like that to Ahsoka, she looked at him with that knowing expression only she could produce, and asked him if his mom had ever said anything like that. Technically, no, he conceded, but he couldn't let her down.

He just felt so stupid right now, looking at the pages blanketing his desk. He'd been sitting over them for too long, but he couldn't bring himself to get up and stretch or take a break. He couldn't bring himself to do anything, really, let alone focus. So he was trapped. All he could do was just sit there, drink his Red Bull, and kind of review until he could destroy this exam next week.

Anakin decided to try another practice problem. Maybe that would make it click.

The surface tension of liquid argon is given by--

His phone buzzed against the desk. Putting it on loud was a bad idea, and he knew it. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse. It was probably his mom, saying something else. Or, he hoped as his heart jumped, maybe you were coming from the lab early and wanted to meet and study. Or hook up. Or just talk. Whatever, as long as it didn't involve his textbook. His phone buzzed again. And again.

He gave in and opened it. It was you, he found, and he grinned like a lunatic, but caught himself. Then again, he was alone, so it didn't matter, really.

But then he read your texts.

Where are you We need to talk Now

He typed back immediately, his fingers flying faster than he thought they could.

in my room is everything ok?

He looked at the screen, saw the bubbles pop up that meant you were typing, then watched as they disappeared. Anakin was frozen, his phone in his hand. We need to talk could just have been a poor phrasing on your part, right? It didn't mean what he thought it did, right? He could deny it only for about five more seconds, when the little bubbles didn't return.

Fuck. Anakin let loose a string of curses and dropped his phone on his desk. He couldn't think of a single thing that would warrant ending… whatever the two of you had. But maybe you'd realized that he was doing a lot more than what fuckbuddies (fuckenemies?) should do, that he was an absolute wreck for you, and had been for a long time.

The caffeine was getting to him, and his leg was bouncing so quickly that he swore his downstairs neighbor would submit a noise complaint. His mind started racing with all the things he never would have told you, the things that would go unsaid if you ended what the two of you were doing. He'd never tell you that he had two dogs growing up, strays, or that his least favorite flavor of Skittles was orange. He'd never tell you that he was pretty sure that he hadn't felt this way about anyone, ever, and that he had laid awake for the past two nights thinking about how, if at all, he would tell you.

Ahsoka's voice echoed in his ears, wisps of sound urging him to just say something. His mind was racing, a million trains of thought all colliding at once. He should just tell you. He'd never learn your favorite kind of cereal. He hadn't responded to his mom, fuck. He regretted having that Red Bull. He'd never tell you that he called you baby during sex because he wanted to say it other times, too. The answer to that thermo question was probably 36 Joules. He'd never tell you that if you called him a pet name he'd melt and let you win any competition because nothing would matter anymore.

But that was precisely why he hadn't told you how he felt. Because if you felt the same way about him, that would be so much better than any amount of money or award. And that wasn't the kind of person he could be.

He'd spent so long training to control that wild hurricane of emotions that pulled him through everyday life. Anakin channeled it into perfectly neat parallelized circuits and technically exquisite poomsae, but around you it all let loose, angry and passionate and just so much.

It was terrifying. You were terrifying. And there was a selfish part of him that said that he deserved to let all those feelings loose for once. To feel as much as he wanted to feel because, goddammit, he was so tired of control.

But Anakin was a lot. A handful, his teachers always said. It was what ended his previous relationship, what drove Padme away. Would it drive you away, too?

If you walked up to him in two minutes and asked him what the two of you were, if it was just casual or something more, would he have the self-control not to blurt out exactly what he was thinking? His stomach flipped at the idea of you leaving the room, leaving his life, without knowing how he felt.

You walking away from him and disappearing into another part of the country after graduation would kill him. He was pretty sure that seeing you at a reunion in five years with someone on your arm, some beautiful person who you had never hated, would smite him on the spot.

He imagined himself six months from now, when the thesis was over. What would that Anakin want for himself? Would he let himself say something? Fuck it all, he would say. And he was right.

If you were going to end things, he was going to get this off his chest. He had to. He wasn't sure he could live with himself if he didn't.

The sound of knuckles on wood cut through the silent room like a dagger through his heart. One, two, three seconds passed as he sat in his desk chair, mind totally blank. He tried to produce a coherent feeling or, if he was lucky, an entire thought, but he came up empty.

Before, it was all something nebulous, something he could just worry about. Something he could stress about. Now, it was real. You were behind that door, and you needed to talk. And there was no escaping that. With heavy legs, he dragged himself to the door.

Anakin pretended not to notice that his hand was shaking when he wrapped it around the doorknob.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The bus ride back to your dorm had been uneventful, other than the way you were staring daggers into the skull of some poor guy in front of you. He had the good sense to not turn around.

Anakin Skywalker is a thief. You clenched your fists, and you could barely feel the sting of your nails in your palms. Barriss wasn't one to lie, based on the past three years you'd spent with her. She told you the facts right after: she overheard one of the graduate students--probably Obi-Wan, but she didn't know who, just some vaguely hot older guy, she said--telling Anakin his idea for a thesis. And then Anakin ran with it.

If she was right, that changed everything. If Anakin really didn't come up with his own idea, that meant he had rigged the competition. He had a leg up this whole time. He really was exactly what you had thought for years. The golden boy of the department who had everything handed to him. And while you'd labored over choosing the perfect, most viable but impressive idea, he had just skipped right over that step. You'd cried over how hard it was to find a good idea, struggled for weeks on end last year, just trying to make something good, let alone great. And he was already weeks ahead of you in the competition.

All of his sweet gestures--staying with you in bed, holding hands in the library, getting you drinks--were suddenly less sweet. Last year, he was in the thesis lab with you, when he was working on his proposal, watching you go through ideas and get upset when they didn't work, and he knew that. And he never told you about where his idea came from, even when you were getting closer. He probably knew it would piss you off, and he still didn't tell you. He'd hidden it from you.

You didn't know if that hurt more or less than the unfairness of his advantage.

The bus slowed to a stop in front of your dorm, and you hopped off, then dashed to the elevator.

You just wanted him to tell you that Barriss was crazy, or misheard. Or anything. Anything to make it not true.

The elevator ride was agony as it whizzed up to his floor.

At his door, you hesitated. If you entered and fought, that made this real. So, so real. The second you walked through that door, everything between the two of you might change.

But you were too furious not to knock. Silence hung for a few seconds before you could hear the door unlock.

Anakin opened it to you, looking unfairly hot. Rage ripped through you as he looked at you with open affection, gesturing to enter his room, like nothing had changed. Like he wasn't lying to you all this time. You stormed in quickly.

"Anakin, I need you to be honest with me." Your voice came out tighter than you wanted as you searched his face for a reaction. He closed the door, then came to stand in front of you.

"I'm always honest with you," Anakin replied earnestly, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he forced a small smile.

You didn't smile back. "How did you come up with the idea for your project?"

"What?" Anakin blinked, caught off guard. He let out a breathy chuckle. "That--that's what you wanted to talk about?"

"Well?" You pressed, crossing your arms. The edge in your voice was obvious, cutting. You could see Anakin go through the stages of realizing what you might mean, and your stomach started to sink even deeper.

Anakin sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. "I--Really? Okay, fine. There aren't currently any microsurgery tools that mimic human hands. They're all pincers. So I wanted to make one." Your gaze narrowed.

"And you're saying Obi-Wan had nothing to do with it?"

"What are you talking about?" It was probably supposed to sound confused, but it came out more scared. You knew him well enough to tell. God, he was infuriating.

"Did you or did you not get your idea from Obi-Wan?" The words came out like tiny daggers, sharpened steel that you spat at him. His face fell, and you could see the moment that he knew you knew.

"Look, it's not like that," Anakin said, his arms falling to his sides. His eyes were suddenly avoiding yours, like his desk suddenly contained some information he desperately needed, or, preferably an escape hatch.

"Then what is it like?" You shot back, your heart racing. You stepped closer, trying to find an answer in his furrowed eyebrows. "Why can't you just say no?"

Anakin's jaw clenched, and he was obviously searching for the right words. Words that wouldn't piss you off, probably. "Because Obi-Wan helped, I guess."

"You guess?!" Your voice cracked, incredulous.

"I mean--look." Anakin raised his hands defensively. "Sure, Obi-Wan put me on the path to it. But every second in the lab since then has been me. My design, my coding."

"What do you mean put you on the path? You mean he gave you the idea, don't you?" Your frustration with him was boiling over. Even now, he was defending himself, trying to evade this. Justifying. It drove you crazy.

Anakin hesitated, his words faltering. "I--It's not--"

"Are you seriously about to say that it's not that simple or something?" You interrupted, your voice shaking. You threw your hands up, your fury finally reaching its peak. "Because, from here, it looks simple. Like you stole your whole fucking thesis idea!"

"That's not true!" Anakin snapped, his voice louder now. It wasn't the same kind of anger you were used to seeing from him, it was defensive, almost panicked. "Obi-Wan, he just, he suggested I look at applying an old project of mine to microsurgery. And he was right. So, I guess, technically, if you're looking at it like that--sure. He gave me the idea."

You stared at him, his words sinking in. His admission hung between you like a guillotine, its rope finally snapped. The air felt tight, like you were ten thousand miles above sea level and there wasn't enough oxygen to keep you afloat.

Anakin shifted again, his anger gone, his voice softer, pleading. "It's like… I don't know. I guess I feel guilty about it. But I really needed to submit something that day, or I couldn't enter into the competition at all. It was the rules. If I don't do a thesis… I--I don't know. I just had to. And I figured I'd just use that temporarily, and pivot as soon as it was approved, It was in the end of junior spring, and I just couldn't find a topic that worked. That idea I had about hand prosthetics didn't pan out, and I was telling Obi-Wan about it in the lab, and he told me I should look at microsurgery, 'cause they have a lot of the same issues--calibrating movement to user input, holding up to wear and tear, dealing with friction and joint movement--and that I should do my thesis on it."

His eyes finally met yours again, so deep and blue that it almost made you reconsider. Almost. He was pleading, begging you to understand. "So, yeah, I submitted an early version of the idea Obi-Wan gave me. But every second of design, build, everything was me. It's my work."

You stood frozen, silent. After a few long beats, Anakin started to fidget, his hands wringing so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"If I could go back, I'd do something else. Anything else." Anakin's voice wavered, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of his guilt. "I just--I didn't know what else to do. I needed to submit something, anything. I need to win this," he finished, his voice trailing off.

The anguish over being proven right was something you didn't expect. You should have felt vindicated, that you were actually right all along about him. You should have hated him. But instead, you could feel your heart breaking, like a marionette with its strings cut, slumped over and lifeless. If he had just admitted it to you himself, maybe you could get over this. Maybe. But the fact that he hid it from you cut like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes, and your throat was drier than you'd ever felt it. The words fell from your lips softly, like you could barely get them out.

"How could you?" You felt like you'd never known him, like the person in front of you was a stranger. How could he be both this person, and the one who would keep you warm at night?

Anakin noticed the coldness of your gaze, and it gutted him. Anakin's breath caught, and you could see him shatter in real time. His cheek twitched, right under his scar, and you could swear you saw his eyes start to fill with tears. His hands were shaking where they were clasped together, and you were sure he was leaving indents with his nails. His shoulders shook under his panicked breaths.

He didn't speak for several long seconds, his mouth tugging this way and that as he tried to think of something, anything, to say.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" He asked as he stepped toward you, trying to seek reassurance to keep him from falling apart. But you couldn't give it. You didn't even know him anymore.

"I--" you opened your mouth, hesitating, before you restarted, "I don't know." Your voice cracked, but you hardened it. "I didn't before, but now I'm not so sure."

Anakin took another step closer, reaching out with his shaking hands as if to touch you, but you backed away. His face flushed even more, hurt and frustration jumping across his features. It made you even more angry. "This is so fucking unfair, and you just--you just let it happen."

He said your name, trying to jump in, but your anger surged, and it drowned him out.

"I spent weeks getting my idea just right." Each words was more brutal than the last. "Weeks. And you got everything spoon-fed to you. Everything I worked for--and you just took it from someone."

Anakin flinched like you had struck him, but you were far from done.

"I thought I knew you, I thought I was wrong about you this whole time," you spat, your fists clenching at your sides, "But I was right all along. You're just a fucking cheater."

A tear slipped down the side of his cheek as you continued. Your voice shook as you admitted to him, and to yourself, what the worst part really was. "And you didn't even have the decency to tell me. And that makes you a fucking asshole."

He shook his head, his eyes stinging as he started to speak. "No, please, it's not--"

"Stop it!" You shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. Anakin stood frozen, his outstretched hand falling limply to his side. Your breath rushed through your nose and your pulse beat in your ears. You couldn't even see him anymore through the tears, but you refused to let them fall. To let him see you cry.

He said your name one more time, begging, pleading. For a moment, you were tempted, but the hurt was too big to ignore.

Your voice was cold, distant. "Get away from me," you ordered. Your back was rigid with anger and hurt. "And leave me the fuck alone."

Without waiting for him to respond, you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

You stalked down the hall as quickly as you could, ignoring the buzzing in your pocket as the tears you were holding back finally poured down your cheeks. You didn't even have the energy to wipe them away, you just let them fall while you punched the button for the elevator.

Only when the door closed, and you pulled out your phone to call Ahsoka, did you see his messages.

please come back we can talk this out please give me another chance

They were all sent minutes apart. You could hear his voice reading them, desperate and thick with tears. Even though you were angry, angrier than you had ever been at him, the idea of him crying still made your chest ache. And then it made you feel vindicated. But then it made you feel horrible again.

You arrived back to the lobby, then crossed the building to the other elevator bank, trying to avoid the awkward gazes the students passing by gave you. You sniffled wetly, wiping away your tears, as you ran up the two flights of steps that brought you to your room. You unlocked the door as quickly as you could, then hid inside.

Your phone buzzed again.

i understand that you don't want to talk, but the second you're ready, i'll be here. i'll always be here.

The words made you sob loudly, and you were thankful for a moment that Ahsoka wasn't home. Until you saw the text, it hadn't hit you that this was the last time you'd talk for a while. You couldn't even remember the last kiss you two had shared. The library? Was that the kiss you wanted this to end on? You'd never see his half-lidded eyes as he worshipped you, never hear him call you baby again.

Why did he have to go and fuck it all up? You asked yourself, sobs wracking your body as you slid down the door. You couldn't tell if you were more sad or angry, but you were definitely heartbroken. Lately, his casual touches, his affection, the way you slept together every night, it was starting to feel like more. But it was all gone now.

You had been numbed with caffeine and stress, but the past week, you felt like you were soaring every time he touched you. Every time he gave you that intense look he always did.

But the two of you were just hooking up. It wasn't supposed to be anything more, and you never thought you'd feel the pull to be with him when you weren't fucking, but it was like gravity. Even now, you wanted him to comfort you. Not someone, but him.

The realization that you had feelings for him hit you like a truck. All the breath was gone from your lungs, gone to some other dimension.

You liked Anakin Skywalker. Even though he was an asshole. Even though he'd hurt you. But those feelings didn't end just because whatever you were had ended, they didn't leave you alone.

You could have been his girlfriend if he hadn't hidden this from you. And that was the last nail in the coffin that made you break down fully.

You sat there, crying, sobbing, wailing, for at least another half hour before you dragged yourself to the shower. It made you feel the tiniest bit better to have your hair clean, your tears scrubbed off your face until the skin went sensitive and ruddy. When the water turned off, it was cold, and you relished the shock to your system.

And then, you started the process of getting over him. You knew you had to do it eventually, and you only had to get through finals before you could go home and forget all about him. Come January, when you next saw him in the lab, it'd be like seeing any other classmate.

That thought was enough to make you start crying again while you stood in the towel you stole from your house. Your tears mingled with the water from the shower, and it was enough to let you pretend that you weren't crying, that becoming strangers with Anakin didn't kill you inside.

You promised yourself that this would be the last time you cried this semester. That night, if you felt the threat of tears, you just threw yourself harder into whatever you were studying. There was nothing else you could do.

At the thermo exam two days later, you walked in later than you usually would for a final that was this important. When you slipped into the class, two minutes before they started passing out test papers, you spotted Anakin in the corner. Because of course you did. Your eyes hadn't stopped finding him in every photo, in every room. He had always been magnetic, and, just because you weren't together anymore didn't mean that stopped. And he was looking right at you.

His gaze ripped through you with some mix of desperation, affection, and sorrow. Anakin looked, in one word, horrible. His eyes were sunken in, red and swollen from crying. Most people would not have noticed, but you knew him too well. His dark circles had come back with a vengeance, like fresh bruises on his otherwise smooth and clear skin. His mouth twitched when he looked at you, like he was going to say something, but he stayed silent as his eyes followed your path.

Throughout the exam, you could feel his eyes on you a couple of times, but you didn't allow yourself to turn around and look. You let the calm of equations and math wash over you, and soon there was nothing but the test. The questions and the precise way you wrote Greek letters in the blue book lulled you into a state of calm you desperately needed.

When you handed in your exam, you allowed yourself another look at Anakin, and then you left the building. You didn't see him before you went on break two days later.

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Two days before break, he saw you again. He hadn't changed his habits, still studied in the dining hall and had meals there, sometimes went to the library, and he secretly hoped, thrummed with anticipation, that maybe, just maybe, you'd be there too. That maybe you'd see him and realize you wanted to talk it out. That, obviously, did not happen. He spent an embarrassing amount of time awake, because you haunted his dreams whenever they came. The disgusted look on your face and the words I was right all along, you're a fucking asshole echoed in the back of his eyelids and his mind's eye whenever he laid down. So, he stayed up. More time to study, right?

He spent most of those 48 hours trying not to cry and failing miserably. Even when he broke up with Padme, it wasn't like this. He was angry, indignant, and, of course, sad, but it was the kind of sadness that settled deep on his shoulders and dulled the world around him. It wasn't the kind of sadness that wrenched sobs from his chest whenever he wasn't careful. It wasn't the kind of sadness that made him regret ever going to this college, ever meeting you.

Ahsoka cast him a funny look at him one night, when he fell asleep in a common room. She gently shook him awake, and noticed the redness rimming his eyes, and the way his hands shook from too much caffeine. She gave him a hug and made him promise to sleep tonight.

He did, and that was the night before the test. Every muscle and joint screamed in protest as he dragged himself from his bed. He arrived fifteen minutes early, just to make sure he got a good seat, and then his head kept swiveling like an owl. Every time the click of the doors opening echoed through the nearly empty lecture hall, he locked onto the person entering. He was pretty sure he'd accidentally given glares to at least four poor souls before you finally entered.

He resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably failed the exam right then.

You were even prettier than he remembered, and the depth of your eyes when you stared at him was enough to make him shudder. Even now, he'd give anything to be with you again. When you sat down and didn't look at him again for the next three hours, he felt bits of his heart break off and get trampled under equations about heat diffusion and air pressure. You turned in your test, and then left, and he looked after you longingly. His eyes snapped back to his paper when he got a weird look from the TA.

He turned in his exam paper, rushed home, and promptly passed out on his bed. You came to him in his dreams, of course. Naked in his arms, lips pliant and wanting under him. The way your tongue peeked out when you were too hard at work, or the shimmer of your eyes when he made you laugh. The betrayal on your face. Get away from me.

He spent the rest of finals in a fugue state, doing tasks and exams because he was supposed to. Then, finally, the last one passed, and he was finally released to go home. He hadn't seen you since the exam, and that was probably better for him, he reasoned.

On day 1 of break, Anakin drove the whole day and listened to absolutely depressing music the whole time. He pulled over once and, in a fit of rage, smacked the steering wheel a few times. How could he be so stupid? How was he this much of an idiot? He sat at the rest stop for another fifteen minutes, his sweaty forehead on the steering wheel. Five hours later, when he arrived home late in the evening, he hugged his mom. Everything felt a little bit better after that. He had dinner with Shmi and Cliegg, even though all he wanted to do was lay in bed and sulk. He fell asleep quickly--he was too exhausted to stay up torturing himself with what could have been.

On day 2 of break, he lay in bed and just generally moped around. He could never be still for long, so that meant getting up to eat snacks, flicking through TV shows listlessly, and trying not to look at the texts you two had exchanged. He only cried twice, once at the thought that you'd never meet his mom, and the other at the memory of your body in his arms as he fell asleep. Both reduced him to hot, silent tears.

On day 3 of break, he did yard work and drove by his old dojang to say hi to his high school coach. He ended up agreeing to teach some lessons over break to avoid having to sit at home alone with his thoughts for three entire weeks. Plus, the money was good. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be getting that thesis prize at all, at this rate. He only cried once, at night, when he thought about having to watch you work in the thesis lab without speaking to you. He wouldn't cross that boundary. You already knew he wanted to talk, and you hadn't texted him back.

On days 4-9, he taught three hours of lessons a day. It was calming, familiar. He only had to splash cold water in his face to avoid getting too upset two or three times per day, but the undercurrent of wondering what you were doing never stopped torturing him. He hadn't touched himself in at least two weeks, and he regularly had to stop his thoughts from drifting away to the last time he was inside you. Every time it happened at home, in bed, he got up and took a cold shower. It served him right. At the end of the week, he went to the mall and bought his mom a Christmas present with the money he earned. Just because he knew his mom wanted to blend their family better, he picked out something small he could afford for Cliegg, Owen, and Beru, too.

On day 10, it was Christmas Eve, so everything was closed. There was nothing to do, so he answered a few emails from Professor Jinn, cleaned the oven, and helped his mom prepare for Christmas dinner. There were files on his device he had prepared specifically to work on his thesis over break, but his project made him nauseous. He'd give it all back for a chance to start over. He'd get a B on his thesis if it would make this pain stop. He didn't touch the files, and, that night, when he finally gave in to the temptation to see if you'd posted anything on social media, he didn't touch his cock, either, even though just an image of you was enough to drive him wild at that point.

On day 11, it was Christmas, and he woke up at 4am in his bed, as hard as a rock. Anakin spent an hour tossing and turning and begging his body to just let him sleep, but, eventually he gave in. It was Christmas, right? He deserved a present. When he closed his eyes, he didn't even try to think of someone else. It was you. It had been for a while. Your little noises as he kissed up your neck, the scrunch of your eyebrows right as you came, and the tight grip of your pussy around him when he buried himself to the hilt inside you were enough to make him cum all over his hand within a minute. He found it embarrassing, honestly, that you had this effect on him. Anakin fell asleep quickly and tried not to feel too gross about what he'd done.

On day 11, attempt 2, he woke up around 11, right before lunch, and came down to wish his mother and Cliegg a merry Christmas. Beru and Owen were supposed to come for dinner, but, this morning, it was just the three of them. Anakin had no particular yearning for Cliegg to be a father figure, he just wanted his mom to be happy. If Cliegg did that, then he'd watch endless movies with the two of them, or get Cliegg a present. But if she didn't want to be with him anymore, Anakin wasn't sure he'd miss him. Their second anniversary was in three weeks, and it was a shock that it had been that much time already. When dinner rolled around, and he greeted Owen and Beru awkwardly, not sure what a person is supposed to say to a newly-acquired sibling. He'd seen them a sum total of maybe ten times, almost all of which had to do with the wedding, so they were in how-was-school and how's-the-new-job and gosh-the-winter-has-been-brutal territory. When Anakin gave them their presents, they seemed overjoyed. He'd gotten them matching scarves, each with their first initial embroidered onto it. It was a miracle they had them in stock at the mall, he thought, but the present seemed to hit the right spot. Cliegg got the aforementioned fishing pole, something his mom had told him he was prattling on about, and he got his mom a beautiful new winter coat. She had been mending hers for years, and water and snow would soak right through it, but when he saw the beautiful down puffer coat in the store window, he knew she'd love it. He was right.

Cliegg got him a Laser Distance Measure, which must have cost a pretty penny, and Owen and Beru got him various engineering gadgets (a nice mechanical pencil for technical drawings and a cable carrying case, respectively). His mother's gift, though, was something he'd never be able to forgive. She had bought him a beautiful, fresh Raspberry Pi set, with 8 GB of RAM. It wasn't the most expensive thing in the world, but the $150 or $200 that it did cost her was enough to make him tear up. He'd mentioned months ago that he was thinking of getting one for some personal projects, something for his portfolio, and she bought it. He had the good sense not to say anything like You aren't supposed to get me presents for Christmas and crushed her in a hug, the kind that whispered I know how much this is worth, and I'm so lucky you're my mom. For a second, he was worried he would cry when he saw the crow's feet appear by her eyes, and he felt how thin the skin on her hands had gotten. When had she gotten so much older? For a terrifying moment, he realized he'd have to live without her one day, but then Cliegg made some comment about how he'd made hot cocoa, and they all gathered around the living room to chat. As the last tendrils of sunlight fell beneath the swath of trees in their backyard, he laughed at something Owen had said, and he felt the tiniest bit less alone. Like maybe it didn't matter if he got an A in thermo or had the best thesis in his year. The notion left him quickly.

On days 12-17, the warm feeling had subsided, and all he could think about was what you were doing. Whether you were moving on, or if you still felt the same way he did. If you wanted him again. The fantasy of you seeing him again and realizing that, oh, actually, you wanted to work it out, and also kiss him, inevitably ended with his hand on his cock and cum on his stomach, then regret and shame for about an hour afterward. Once the studio had reopened, he kept teaching there, but with more hours this time. Also, Anakin could finally open the folder on his computer named Thesis without cringing at it, but barely. His heart still skipped about four beats when he thought about how he'd have to see you practically every day. He pushed thoughts like that from his mind as much as he could. No point in torturing himself more than the actual semester would.

Day 18 was New Year's Eve. He went to a party hosted by some of his high school friends, some rager at a frat house. He just wanted to get drunk, honestly, and this seemed like a great excuse. It was sticky and hot even right outside the door, but the sweaty blast of steam that hit him when someone opened it turned his stomach. But the beer was free, so he wouldn't complain too much. A couple of times, he noticed a girl checking him out over the bone-shaking bass. He might have made a move, if he were a different person. If any one of them was you, or had your smile, or your eyes. As soon as he noticed something that was too different from you, he averted his gaze. They were all cute, he supposed, but that didn't matter. They weren't you. When the countdown started, Anakin retreated, not interested in being pulled into some kiss that stunk of beer. Instead, despite knowing he'd regret it, he sent you a text. happy new year, it read. He blamed the tequila, and went back into the fray of cheering people.

From days 19-24, Anakin kept on keeping. Dishes, teaching, occasional progress on his thesis. He submitted over 20 job applications. Sometime in the week, in his daily rehashing of all your messages, he noticed the read receipt had popped up on his text from New Year's Eve, and he cursed himself. He was cursing himself a lot lately. Especially when he promised he wouldn't jerk off over you, but it always ended up happening. The subtle rock of his hips against the mattress when he thought of you, grinding the hard flesh against the soft material, then the sticky warmth of release and the rush of regret that always came with it. The heat of the shower made him hard when he thought about how he'd always wanted to try fucking in the shower, more specifically, fucking you in the shower. He really shouldn't, he reasoned while his hand pumped his dick.

Day 25 was spent driving again, after he gave his mom a big hug and threw his suitcase in the car. Despite himself, he realized that he was no more over you than he had been on his drive to his house. The fact that he would see you tomorrow still made him perk up and wilt at the same time. In a short twenty-four hours, you'd be real, three-dimensional in front of him again. He wasn't sure what would happen--would you kiss him? Slap him? Combust? He could never tell with you. He wondered if you'd cut your hair over break, or if you'd talked to Ahsoka about him. Whatever fantasies he'd been nursing, they were all going to be proven or disproven tomorrow. So he had to use the hour before he arrived on campus to imagine, as hard as he could, that you were in the passenger seat. That you were his girlfriend. That you had just come from meeting his mom, who had shown you a bunch of truly humiliating baby pictures and had whispered to him that she liked you when you had gone to the bathroom. For the rest of the night, that was the reality he lived in.

You had compared schedules last semester, before things got weird, and you shared only two classes, both of which were on Mondays and Wednesdays. At 10:30, you'd both be in Unsupervised Learning, then at 2:30, you'd both take Dynamic Systems and Controls. When he woke up at 8:30, he showered, then tried to wipe the tiredness from his eyes. He put on a shirt he knew you loved (you'd remarked on how well it fit him, and he didn't see it, but you did, and that was all that mattered) and his most comfortable jeans and hoodie. He secretly hoped you were doing the same kind of preening at home, trying to look good for him, but he didn't let the thought take up too much room in his mind.

At 10:25, when he walked into the lecture hall, he saw you instantly. Time stopped as he felt like someone had just gotten a particularly good hit to his solar plexus, and his whole body was responding, out of breath and weak and dizzy all at the same time. You were in the third row, to the left-hand side of the seats, and you looked more gorgeous than he remembered. How didn't he spend the whole break fantasizing about the way your hair shone or the curve of your neck? Seconds started ticking by again when he realized he was blocking the path to the seats, much to the anger of the group of people behind him. He walked down the steps to the second row like everything was normal, then positioned himself on the other side of the lecture hall. He kept his eyes firmly not trained on you for as long as he could, and, when the professor started droning, he turned to look at you, really look at you.

You had put on just a touch of makeup, something he'd noticed years ago that you always did on the first day of class. It suited you, and you looked well-rested and happy. Like you didn't miss him at all. It gutted him like a fish on the chopping block. What was wrong with him? How could he let you get away?

He turned back to the professor, pretending to be interested in the syllabus. When class ended, by the time he packed up his things, you had gone.

The second class was a repeat of the first, only in a smaller lecture hall. He tried to keep his cool, he really did, but he snuck glances. He was only human.

He didn't go into the lab for the week, mainly because he was almost done with build and was spending most of his time on securing materials for testing. They had their first practice that Monday, so he got dressed and headed over to the Athletic Center, where he grounded himself in the ritual, the calming power of it all. It was amazing to see Rex and Ahsoka again. They always made him smile, something he'd been missing over the break.

Later that week, Ahsoka invited him to your room to talk about that semester's competitions. He hesitated the appropriate amount of time before he accepted. The hallway to your room was achingly familiar, just like he'd seen it in his dreams. Only Ahsoka was home, so she wasted no time before interrogating him about what happened with the two of you.

When he told her the general gist, she had the good decency to be honest and tell him that he was kind of being an asshole by not mentioning it, but that it was normal to get advice from professors and other students. It wasn't ideal for it to be as explicitly grabbed, sure, but the point still stood.

By the time the door opened and you came in (his mind raced--from a date? from class? from some other part of your life that he would never come to know?), Anakin and Ahsoka were discussing taekwondo logistics. You looked gorgeous in the cozy cable-knit sweater you had on, and he hoped against all hope that he wasn't staring the way he thought he was.

You looked shocked for a good second before smiling awkwardly with a little "hey." You retreated to your room almost instantly, and Anakin felt a pit open up, wondering if he'd made you uncomfortable. It wasn't his fault, honestly, but he still felt guilty. He left an hour afterward.

Was this his fate? To watch you from a middle distance as you lived your life? He was trapped, pinned down like a bug, reading into everything he saw. If you were in a four-block radius, his eyes would find you. They always would. In class, he had to stop himself from turning toward you, from studying your features and trying to read anything from them. He never could.

Anakin was still fucking haunted by you, especially now that he was on campus. Everything reminded him of you. The boba place, every inch of your dorm, the emptiness in his mattress. He knew he was hallucinating when he thought he spied you at practice one day, just a wisp of hair in the corner of the room, but, by the time he did a double take, there was only empty floor there.

On Thursday, he got a text from Ahsoka.

Party tomorrow at Cody's. You should come, she had written. He didn't really, actually feel like partying. But he went anyway. Maybe he could spend enough time with his friends to forget about you.

He threw on a nice shirt, some kind of button-up his mom had gotten him, cuffed the sleeves, and set off.

It was a standard-issue party. He'd been to plenty of them, so he figured was ready and prepared for what he'd see and feel. Bass in his eardrums so loud it shook the blood in his veins. Having to scream basic conversation over music. Cheap beer and a sticky floor. Enough heat that his hair would start curling more.

It felt like home. He entered, found Cody and Ahsoka quickly, promising to return after he grabbed a drink. Anakin made his way to the folding table crammed full of bottles, as well as some kind of vile jungle juice, and took two shots. Just enough to stop thinking about you, he hoped.

By the time he fought his way back to Cody and Ahsoka, he was feeling it. Rex had joined them in the meantime, and Anakin joined the little huddle. They were talking (read: yelling "what did you say?" over the music) about one of Cody's dates that week, and Anakin let himself slip into the familiar rhythm of his friends. It was nice, honestly. He only thought of you five or six times, which was a record low.

Then Ahsoka suggested they go get another drink, and, as the four of them pushed back toward the drinks station, he saw you.

You were fucking radiant, and the breath stalled in his chest. You had always been the only thing he ever wanted to look at in a room, even from sophomore year, when you began to piss him off more than anything, but right now, you were a supernova. And he was a moth. He felt his wings get burned off as he traced the curve of your jaw and acknowledged to himself that, yeah, he probably wasn't going to get over you until you were across state lines.

You were wearing some sinfully short, tight dress, which crept higher and higher up your thighs. He could tell you weren't wearing a bra, and something stirred inside of him.

But then he saw the guy standing next to you, leaning in to tell something to your ear. Anakin hated himself for the thought, but he instantly started comparing himself to the guy. What was Mr. Boat Shoes saying to you that made you tip your head back and laugh like that? He remembered when he used to do that, when he would make you throw your head back to do more than just laugh.

Anakin felt his jaw clench and his body start to shake with the same energy that he always had before competitions, coiled like a snake about to strike.

He knew it was a bad idea, he really did. But he was never one to resist bad ideas. He blamed the alcohol. It wasn't that you were his, or some misguided attempt at owning you, but he just couldn't watch this. He couldn't let this feeling tear him apart anymore. When you swatted the guy's chest playfully, Anakin felt his eye twitch, right under his scar. Oh hell no. But he shouldn't. It was your business.

Fuck it.

Anakin started pushing through the crowd, and then he saw the guy lean in, and he saw red.

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Tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!):

@skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @johnbassplayercutie @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm @ann4zw @gimmefood

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 5

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: It's time to find your handler and make him answer for what he's done to you.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore (nothing too graphic)

Word Count: 4715

Notes: This took a while to write, I'm sorry about that but life has been kicking my ass. I really hope it makes enough sense because I've found I'm not very good at writing action scenes (but that's also not the main focus). Hope you enjoy!

Part 4 ○ Part 6

The moon was high in the sky, its pale light guiding your way through the forest. The air was strangely quiet, the leaves crunching beneath your feet were the only thing that could be heard between the trees. Even the wind was serene and no animal dared make a sound, as if sensing what was to come. The atmosphere allowed you to keep your composure, any incoming threats would be easier to detect like this. Unfortunately, so would your allies.

It's funny how so much can change in a matter of days. Before, when you were only a relatively low ranking member of the guild, walking through the dark woods as you are doing now would simply be the norm, whether you were on a mission or not, but, after everything you learned, not having Azriel and his shadows near you makes you feel off-kilter, like you can't protect him if he stands too far from you.

If it weren't for the millions of problems that keep piling on, you'd probably sit on this feeling, dissecting it until you realize how peculiar it actually is for you to feel so achingly connected to the shadowsinger who, even if had been your husband during a time of your life you've now forgotten, was essentially a stranger to you now. You've only really known him for about two weeks, not nearly enough time to be feeling like a part of you is missing.

You weren't used to worrying about anyone else at times like these. Even when your missions weren't solo, you didn't actually know your coworkers, much less cared if they survived or not. But now, you can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, of how Azriel and his family could get hurt because of you. You stayed up thinking about this all night, if this would all be truly worth it just to get your memories back, but had decided that you wanted to know what happened, no matter the cost, and knew that, as much as the Inner Circle was helping you recover your memories, not all their motives were altruistic. They all wanted revenge as much as you did.

All of you had planned this out meticulously, going down to every last detail and considering every possible outcome. Everyone was also extra careful on how to approach using you as bait. You expected it from Azriel - he's been protective of you ever since you stepped foot into his High Lord's home - but seeing the rest of them so worried about you made you want to recover your memories that much more. You want to remember these people, want to know how they all, especially Azriel, came to care for you, so much so that even death didn't stop those feelings.

There had been other plans brought up, ones that didn't involve putting you in such a risky situation, but it was soon decided that the only way to get to Norris would be to show up alone. If he so much as caught a glimpse of anyone else, you know he would simply run and if he truly put his guard up and went into hiding, finding him would be nearly impossible even with Azriel's spies and shadows at his disposal, he hadn't found you after all.

The tree you were looking for comes into view as you get lost in your thoughts, the magic traces left behind on its bark unmistakably familiar. The guild has used this system for as long as you've been a part of it. Every important meeting with your handler had taken place next to any object or area marked with this exact faint magic, enough for the attuned eye to pick up on but not so strong that anyone else might come across them and meddle where they're not welcomed.

You don't have to wait by the marked tree for long before an imposing figure appears beside you. He had probably been watching you for as long as you've winnowed into the edge of the treeline, keeping his eyes on you as you walked to the meeting place. The air shifts, the wind picking up slightly as if sensing the tension threatening to form in your body.

Turning around as casually as possible, you face your former handler, the male you thought had saved your life but you've now learned did quite the opposite. Not that there had been any particularly fond feelings between you and him, but it still hurts to know how easily the male manipulated you and turned your entire life around with no remorse.

He was mostly covered with a black hood, only a bit of his face being visible through the shadow it cast, enough to meet his eyes. You've only seen him without it a few times, you know that dark brown hair lays under the hood and a few scars adorn his face. Truthfully, you're not even sure if this isn't some intricate glamour. Nothing that comes from this male should be trusted.

His form gives nothing away, no nerves or suspicions, but his brown eyes rake over your body, searching for something. Since he thinks you've just crawled out of a cell or worse, he's probably looking for any signs of injury, or that you've betrayed him and the guild. It's best you don't let him find anything that tells him otherwise.

“Norris,” you greet him as you would any other time, nodding once at him with a passive expression.

He crosses his arms and meets your eyes when he hears your voice. His eyes dart over the forest around you as if he knew Azriel would be lurking in the shadows. His self assured expression doesn't help with your nerves. Norris always seems like he's three steps ahead, and more often than not he was actually four.

“I didn't think I'd see you again,” he finally speaks up.

“I thought so too.”

Norris hums in response. You're not sure if he believes you or not, but short and distant answers are the norm for him. Either way, you need to stick to the plan, there's no turning back now. “How did you escape the Night Court?”

“They thought I was someone else, someone they used to know,” you start, trying to convey some of the confusion you'd experienced the first time they told you who you were. He knows you well enough to expect you to have some trouble maintaining the same level of apathy he so easily displays, he'd warned you multiple times to act more like an assassin and not let your emotions get the best of you. “It eventually led to a fight between the High Lord and his Spymaster. They couldn't agree on what to do with me from what I heard. I managed to escape in the chaos.”

You stop for a second, licking your lips. You decided not to completely lie to him so it would be more believable, this version of events could have come true had you not trusted Azriel, had your feelings not been so suffocating and confusing.

“I waited for a while before contacting you, to make sure they didn't come looking for me,” you continue eventually, the fact that he isn't asking more questions makes your heart pick up ever so slightly.

He turns his head to the side, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You resist the urge to clench your sweaty palms, not wanting to let him see through you. “Who did they think you were?”

“The Spymaster's former wife,” you admitted, hoping you sounded as detached as possible.

“And what do you think about it?”

“What?”

“Do you believe them?” You didn't expect him to ask you outright. It would make more sense for him to try to cover it up, stopping any doubts you might have had before they grew.

“Of course not. I've never been married,” the lie tastes wrong on your tongue but you make sure not to let any of it translate into your body language or your voice. Which is why you're so caught off guard by his next words. “I think you're lying to me.”

Norris turns you around and grabs you to him before you have a chance to react, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing a dagger to your neck, power rumbling under his skin, raising the hairs on the back of your neck at its intensity. This isn't that surprising to you since you were more than aware of how much faster and stronger he was, and that tricking him would be extremely hard, but this means you need to move to plan B. And you were really hoping you could avoid a direct conflict like this.

Azriel is the first one to show himself, emerging from the shadows with deadly calm, hazel eyes never straying from Norris as his hand hovers Truth Teller. As much as you try to keep calm and not give anything away, you know Norris can feel you tense up and hear your heartbeat picking up when you see the shadowsinger walking straight into danger.

You feel another presence behind you, Morrigan, followed by Cassian and Amren on each side. The sisters had stayed behind, despite their many protests. In case anything happened, Velaris needed its High Lady and the Valkyries at least. You also know this is a personal matter for the fae present, you had been their friend and been ripped away from their lives by the male currently holding you at knife point, threatening to end your life once again, for good this time.

They all start walking slowly to you, effectively forming a circle around the two of you, getting ready to attack if Norris hurts you or tries to run. He appeared as calm as if he had just been caught on a night stroll, his heartbeat never rising in tempo against your back even under Azriel's chilling stare. He had been expecting your betrayal, and had been ready for them.

You could feel the fury in the air, could see it written in Azriel's eyes as he studied every single one of Norris' movements. You had been worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure since he was against this plan from the start, in fear of this exact situation coming true. But he seemed completely focused, not even risking looking at you too long in case he'd get distracted. This made you relax ever so slightly. You'd planned out for this situation and even if you ended up hurt or worse, you know Azriel won't let Norris go unharmed. You would get your revenge one way or another, you just hoped you could spare the male in front of you any more pain.

Rhysand winnows in next to Azriel moments later, darkness clinging to him as he takes a few steps closer to you nonchalantly. Talons scratching your mental walls before checking in on you. All according to plan.

“I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but even I can't spin a lie so effortlessly,” he starts, arrogance dripping in every word. You'd never admit it, much less to him, but Rhysand was every bit the perfect High Lord, especially at times like these. It showed in the way he carried himself down to the seemingly bottomless pit of power at his disposal. No matter how strong Norris is, anyone with even a little of self preservation would think twice on how to handle him.

“I came prepared for your little tricks, High Lord.”

You frown at his words, confusion settling over you before you realize what it meant. Rhysand must have tried getting inside his mind as soon as he appeared. Norris had expected him to, had put up walls to ensure it didn't happen. This would only make things harder.

“Skipping pleasantries, are we?” Rhysand's face gives nothing away, but as he drops said pleasantries, it gives way to some of the anger bubbling under the surface, the next words coming out in a serious tone. “You're not walking out of here, Norris.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” Norris says as he leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “Did you think I would come on my own?”

A sinking feeling grows in your stomach as you watch dark figures manifesting all around you, far outnumbering your group. You recognize some of them, know their clothes and masks mean they're assassins from the guild.

A fight breaks out right before your eyes, causing you to struggle desperately for the first time in Norris' arms. He tries to keep you in place by letting the blade touch your skin as a warning, a few drops of blood escaping the small wound. You know he could easily kill you, but you're also aware that if he did the chances of him escaping would drop to zero. That's the only reason you're still breathing, so he can use you as a shield.

Your eyes were following Azriel's shadow covered form as he fought against multiple attackers, the feeling of helplessness rising with each clank of his sword. You can't stand there and wait any longer, so you grab the blade still positioned dangerously close to your throat and wrap your fingers around it tightly so it cuts your hand instead of your neck while swinging your elbow back to try to push off of Norris. Just as you expected, you weren't strong enough and he pulled the knife back from your grasp, intending to stab your stomach to stop you, but you had a new trick up your sleeve.

Azriel's shadows had moved to you as soon as Norris grabbed you, crawling up your legs discreetly in the dark of night, where they stayed waiting for your signal. And, as they tasted your blood in the air, they engulfed Norris, giving you enough room to push back and to elbow him a few more times, also letting off some of your power and finally being able to release yourself from his hold.

The shadows aren't enough to keep him away from you for long, the lack of visibility barely slowing him down as he attacks you before you even have the chance to take a breath. Luckily, your little helpers' singer rushes in, getting between you and deflecting Norris' strike. He hands you a sword so you can fight back with him and pushes back against Norris without wasting a single moment.

The three of you enter a match, barely being able to pay attention to what's happening around you, though you can tell everyone is in the same predicament. Even between you and Azriel, keeping up with Norris proves difficult, he's not only an exceedingly proficient fighter but he's also familiar with your attacks and style, making it easier for him to avoid your attacks and focus more on Azriel's.

The fight goes on for longer than you'd like. Even with your and Azriel's joint efforts, you had barely managed to wound Norris. The bastard was too strong and experienced, he was one of the guild's oldest assassins for a reason.

Suddenly the sickening scent of blood reaches your nostrils, in a concentration you haven't experienced before. It makes you falter in your movements, but luckily it has the same effect on Norris, leaving him open to Azriel's attacks, who seems undisturbed by it. You risk a glance behind you, but all you can see is the rest of the Inner Circle watching the battle, while the ground and their bodies, even the trees around them, are covered in blood. You're not exactly sure what happened, what they did to completely obliterate the assassins to a point not even their bodies were left, but you don't have more time to linger on this as Azriel finally manages to get a few good hits in, leaving Norris stumbling back away from him.

Rhysand is next to you in the blink of an eye, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You move to help Azriel, hoping to distract Norris enough for him to be able to infiltrate his mind. It doesn't take much longer before Norris finally drops unconscious at your feet, and you immediately let out a relieved breath. Azriel's shadows move to tie him up so he has no chance of escaping.

Your plan had always been to catch Norris off guard or wear him down enough so that Rhysand would be able to infiltrate his mind, successfully knocking him out so you could take him back to the Night Court for interrogation. And, as much as you'd planned for the possibility of him bringing backup, the assassins had made this harder to achieve. You all had been worn down more than expected, but, as you look around, you see no one seems to be gravely injured.

Cassian smiles and nods at you when he notices you eyeing the blood trickling down his shoulder, it wasn't too deep of a wound and the blood was already stopping from the looks of it. Azriel did tell you Illyrians heal faster than most fae. Speaking of, you feel scarred fingers wrap around your wrist as you give Cassian a tentative smile of your own.

Your focus is stolen by Azriel, your eyes finding his instantly as he holds up your hand carefully, examining the wound and the blood that had been smeared all around you during the fight. He's wearing a conflicted expression, pain visible in his eyes. You've found Azriel shoulders too much guilt, even when what happened wasn't his fault.

His other hand reaches out to touch your neck, where a small cut overlaps with the pronounced scar on your skin. He's been blaming himself for your death for over a century, he must have been terrified of not being able to stop it again, even if it was happening right in front of him.

“I'm alright, Azriel,” you smile up at him, hoping to calm him down, “This will be gone by tomorrow.”

“We need to take you to a healer.” You shake your head, not wanting to stay behind and leave them to deal with Norris by themselves. Gently prying Azriel's hands away from you, you go to tell him as much.

“He's right,” Morrigan interjects, “I can take you to Madja and she'll fix it for you in an instant. I can bring you back right after.”

“It's just my hand.” You don't understand why they're making such a big deal out of it. This wouldn't need a healer, aside from some discomfort it won't hinder you in any way. They all have small wounds of their own that they seem to be ignoring.

“You're hurt.” There's a finality in Azriel's tone that is starting to rub you the wrong way. You understand he's concerned, you've tried to be considerate of his complicated feelings ever since you found out you had been his wife and the tragic way in which he had lost you, but that doesn't mean he can order you around.

“Barely.” You try to keep your voice leveled, pointing at Norris' unconscious form still covered in shadows. “And this is a lot more important. I need to know what he did.”

“I'll tell you everything we find. You don't need to go with us.”

“What?” You can feel the confusion taking over your features. Azriel has been forthcoming with any and every bit of information, you don't understand why he's trying to keep you away now.

“It's best if you don't come to the dungeon. You don't need to see that,” he offers, his face becoming irritatingly blank, the mask you know he uses as the Night Court's Spymaster. This only makes your anger spike even faster.

“See what?,” you challenged, head tilting to the side, “Do you think I never tortured anyone?” Your voice rises with every word, annoyance taking over your body. “I know the female you married was much different from what I am now, and I don't know if she let you order her around like this, but I'm not her.”

“I'm not ordering you-” Azriel's face falls at your words but you're too far gone to even try to interpret what it's written in his eyes, to even listen to what he has to say.

“It sure sounds like you are.”

Rhysand stands between you two before the argument can escalate further. “This is not the time to be fighting. We need to take him to a safe place before he regains conscience. I can only keep him down for so long.” He eyes Azriel for a moment, studying his features as some sort of understanding takes over his own. “Mor will take you to a healer,” he holds up a hand as you open your mouth to argue back, “It will only take a moment and then you can meet us in the dungeon. We won't start without you. I promise.”

By the expression on his face and authority behind his words, you know trying to argue with the High Lord won't take you anywhere right now. He's too used to calling all the shots and you can't change his mind in a matter of minutes, not when there's a much more pressing situation on your hands. You need to choose your battles.

You simply turn to Morrigan, ignoring the hazel eyes staring straight into your soul. “Take me to your healer then. The sooner I get this done the better.” She nods at you, extending her hand as she winnows you both back to Velaris.

The adrenaline of the fight started wearing off as the healer, Madja, worked on your hand, stitching skin back together with expert ease. As much as it had annoyed you to be sent to the infirmary, you could admit the pain had been worse than you expected as your body calmed down. It still wouldn't have been much of a problem to warrant that amount of concern.

Morrigan simply watches as the old fae works on you. She tried to talk to you about Azriel but you pushed her away, not wanting to hear any explanations from her. He's old enough to speak for himself, and you'll probably be eager to hear what he has to say after this whole situation is worked out. Right now, you only want to go back to where they're holding Norris so you can finally understand what he did to you and hopefully learn how to fix it.

Just as Madja is wrapping your hand in a white bandage, keeping the strong smelling ointment she spread in place, the healer speaks up for what feels like the first time tonight. “That boy loves you more than anything. Give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you,” she finishes as she pats your hand softly. “All done.”

Her words give you pause. It does make you wonder how obvious your and Azriel's love had been that everyone seems to have no doubt in their minds that he would do anything for you. He seems to be very private in his affairs, especially personal ones. It also makes you curious if you'd known her before, it's more than likely since she's the Inner Circle's healer. You push those thoughts away, knowing you wouldn't ask the old healer about your relationship before anyway. You were so close to getting your memories, you needed to focus on that.

“Thank you.” She gives you one more smile before gathering her things, making you stand up and rush to Morrigan, who has a somewhat nostalgic and understanding smile on her face. She holds onto your shoulder before you even have the chance to say anything, knowing what your next words were going to be.

As soon as you winnow in, you understand why they called this place a dungeon. There really was no other way to describe the dark, stone covered space. The air was thick with humidity and blood, the kind you know has lingered for centuries and will never be completely washed out. You have to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, it was truly close to pitch black inside, the perfect environment to torment someone in, especially when you're the shadowsinger.

You never let your eyes meet Azriel's when you walk in, even as he turned to you, only allowing yourself to focus on your former handler, heavy chains on each of his wrists as he stood on his knees in the middle of a cell. He was already awake, it seems they did start without you. Rhysand speaks into your mind, sensing the incoming protest. He woke up sooner than we expected. He's been trained for this.

A sigh almost escapes you. Norris was trained for every possibility, this was going to be a gruesome session. As much as you were arguing with Azriel to stay, the truth is this is not something you ever enjoyed. So many in the guild did this sort of thing for pleasure but you only ever tortured anyone when it was strictly necessary and they had truly done something awful to warrant it. You can only hope it at least gives you the information you've been searching for and the freedom you never even dared to dream about.

“I almost thought you weren't going to show your face again.” It's infuriating how unaffected Norris sounds even though his blood already stains Azriel's favorite dagger.

“Wouldn't miss this show for the world,” you admit. He was one of the few individuals you believed deserved this and much worse, for all he has done to not only you but so many others. You're almost certain your conscience won't bother you for this.

Up until tonight your feelings for him were passive. You never particularly liked him, but you always felt obligated to show him respect as your superior, there were also less than ideal consequences if you let your true feelings show. Still, there had been some small, stupid hope that he didn't really do all those awful things to you. He trained you and taught you a lot, knowledge that you know has helped you in a lot of bad situations, that has kept you alive through them, and will continue to do so in the future.

A sickening smirk overtakes his face at your response. “I always liked you better when you acted like one of us.” Fury and shame travels across your body, but Azriel moves before you get the chance to, slashing his blade across Norris' chest, a sharp noise of pain escaping him. The gesture almost makes you smile, as twisted as that may sound.

“You'd do well to watch your mouth. My Spymaster doesn't take well to disrespect,” Rhysand's voice sounds different, arrogant but nothing short of furious.

“Still hung up on her? Since you stopped searching I thought you found yourself a new shiny toy.” Azriel's fist connects with Norris' jaw as he gets the last words out, a laugh escaping him despite the flow of blood rushing through his teeth for being able to rattle the shadowsinger.

You decide to step in, not wanting to let Azriel speak or act for you when you're more than capable of doing it yourself. And knowing how much he blames himself for your situation, for stopping his search when you were alive all this time. You'd be damned if you let Norris hurt him in any way. He's done more than enough.

“So you admit you were the one who found me.” You walk until you're standing over Norris' beaten body, right next to Azriel, close enough he has to adjust his wings not to touch you.

“Of course, you were one of my finest projects.” You let out an acknowledging hum, temperature dropping around you as your icy power rose to your fingertips. The pain would be a lot worse if you kept his body temperature down, you want his whole body to ache. This was going to be a long night, thankfully hurting Norris was nothing short of enjoyable.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to hang out with my boyfriend’s best friend?

My [33F] boyfriend’s [30M] (we’ll call him R) best friend (30s M) (call him D) is chronically late but also never communicates anything. I have ADHD and like I get it. I have all the patience in the world for people who are late if they communicate they will be late. But D will never communicate anything, ever.

R and D have a standing game night on Fridays where they go for dinner and play board games. D “normally” comes between 4-5pm. He picks up his kids from school at 3:30, drops them home with his partner and then drives over. It is a 30 minute drive. But in the past, both on regular Friday meetings, and for other meetups, he has been significantly late (3 hours, once!) without saying a word all day.

R wants me to join them on Friday evenings. I don’t have a traditional ‘job’ but I am a crafter with many things to do and also, as mentioned, I have ADHD. Part of that means I really need a specific time to go and do something otherwise I will just be stuck in like “wait mode” all day unable to do anything because I don’t know when I need to stop doing it. The first time I went out with R & D I did lose the whole day (no work done) because we could get no actual information from D on when he was coming, and he ended up not arriving until after 5pm.

I told D I didn’t appreciate not being able to properly plan my day, and that providing a heads up about these things is generally considered polite. I also made it clear afterwards to R that if D continued to not communicate anything and just “turn up whenever, at some point after 4, maybe” then I would not be joining them on board game nights. 

Today I once again only had “4-5ish, I guess” but by 4:30 not only was D not here but R had heard nothing from him, and suspected he had not even left. I told R I was not coming, I had already mostly lost the day - having stopped work several hours before - but I would at least be reclaiming the evening.

At 5:15 R called me to say that D had been arranging to have his partner come, and had been sorting out childcare (in the form of D’s mum). He at no point earlier in the day had said anything about this to R. In fact they hadn’t spoken at all. D then told R they would be leaving at around 5:45, so wouldn’t be here until at least 6:15.

I reiterated that I would not be coming. It was a boundary I set before and was very clear about, and was now enforcing it. D could have said much earlier that he was planning on inviting his partner, would have to arrange childcare, and would likely be later than usual. He chose not to do that, so I am choosing to not go.

R then got upset with me and said he would not be coming over to spend the night at my place the following evening (we have a normal routine on who stays where which days, and he knows unexpectedly changing that without any discussion at all will also mess with my ability to do things. The routine is important to me) because I was being unfair. 

I told him, again, it’s a firm boundary for me. People who won’t communicate anything at all when you have plans (even loose ones) aren’t respecting other people’s time. Even if that’s not the intention it’s still just… rude to the other person. Other people still have lives when you’re not there, and expecting everyone else to just be ready for “whenever” you feel like showing up without a word is not ok. Again, if it happens only once in a while because Shit Happens that’s different. But if it’s every time, with everyone, forever, then really you’re just a bit inconsiderate.

R says he doesn’t feel that way because he doesn’t have anything going on so it doesn’t bother him, so he isn’t upset with D (even though I have things on, so it does impact and bother me, his partner) but he is upset with me because I am “making him feel bad”. D’s complete lack of communication and lateness is not the problem, the fact I am annoyed about it and choosing to stay home is the problem. I said it is not fair to blame me for this turn of events when (unlike D) I was VERY clear beforehand that I wouldn’t be going if this happened, and that if nothing else he should still be at least a little annoyed with D for not respecting my time after I’d already spoken to him about it.

Instead of actually sitting D down and properly telling him “look I don’t have things to do but L does and it does bother her when you don’t communicate anything so it is messing with her work when you do this and that is not ok”, R then said he just won’t invite me to anything ever again. So I can’t be upset if he’s late.

AITA for refusing to go to board game night?

What are these acronyms?

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you do a angst about Kylian maybe he cheated on his wife when she is pregnant (or not) and then she leaves him, but after she forgives him after so many attempts of trying get back to her, with a happy ending

changed it a bit because i hate cheating so no happy ending for this one :))

kylian mbappè x reader

tw : cheating, a lot of angst sorry

5 years

you were six months pregnant and you and kylian were thrilled about the arrival of your first baby. you’ve been wanting a family for so long and when you started trying for a baby if felt like the universe wasn’t on your side.

now, two years later, you were finally pregnant and full of joy. everyone around you kept telling you how full of life you were, you were glowing and people noticed it.

the first few months were hell. you couldn’t keep food down, even the smell of morning breakfast made you nauseous and frustrated. kylian did everything he could to help you. he would hold your hair if you needed to throw up, he would cuddle you afterwards and helped you stay hydrated.

around the third month your belly started to show, you started to feel the baby growing. kylian talked every night to your growing belly, he couldn’t wait to meet them.

fourth and fifth months were easier. you still felt nauseous and your whole body began to hurt, your back was hurting, your feet, your growing boobs, your hands, sometimes even your nose. but to you, everything was worth it.

now you just entered your sixth month and because of pregnancy, hormones and summer you couldn’t stop sweating. you were always a complete mess. not even cold showers and ac could help you.

kylian knew how much uncomfortable you were and he decided to make you relax with a little vacation in miami. not the coldest place on earth, it was completely the opposite but your hotel had a spa, indoor pool and a perfect way to the beach. it was everything you could ask for.

the week passed and you were so grateful that kylian made you forget about all of your problems. he was invited to some party in the hamptons, almost like he was part of the elite and of course he wanted to go. he asked you to join him but honestly you couldn’t wait to go home and lay in bed all week. your body started to hurt again and you needed some rest. of course kylian understood your point of view so he went to the hamptons while you went straight back home.

you called him when you landed back in paris and he texted you right before the party. everything was normal, until it wasn’t.

you woke up the day after, it probably was still night in america so you waited to call kylian. due to your growing belly you couldn’t find any comfortable position in bed so you woke up pretty early and laid on the couch watching some tv.

when it was around 9 am you got tired, you went from watching the news to watching friends to watching crime shows. the only person you needed was kylian but at the moment he was on the other side of the world partying and probably getting drunk.

you ignored your phone all morning so you were surprised when you saw that your best friend called you 10 times.

it was lunch time and you were starting to eat when you decided to open your phone. it was blowing.

14 missed calls from kylian.

10 missed calls from your best friend.

4 missed calls from kylian’s brother ethan.

you saw people kept mentioning you on twitter and instagram so curiosity got the best of you and went straight to the socials.

you wish you didn’t do it.

leaked pictures of kylian kissing another woman. his hands all over her body. on her ass too. a video of kylian and this random girl hidden in the corner making out.

you felt like throwing up but this time wasn’t because of the pregnancy.

people started messaging you, saying how sorry they were for you, that you and the baby didn’t deserve it.

the baby.

he cheated on you, his soon-to-be wife, while you were carrying his baby.

he decided to throw away five years for what?

right when your mind was spinning and full of thoughts that kylian’s name appeared once again on your phone. he was calling you again. this time you answered, you knew you had to confront him once he got back home.

“oh thank god you answered…” he said from the other side of the phone.

“do you need something?” you asked, your voice emotionless. he knew you saw the pictures. and the video.

“listen, i’m coming back home right now, i’m at the airport…i’m so sorry, you have no idea…i’m so ashamed” he confessed. you knew he was crying but you couldn’t care less.

you turned your phone off without answering him. you knew you had like 6 or 7 hours before he got back home, so, with the help of your best friend, you started packing everything, from your clothes to the make up and books.

the moment you saw how empty his room looked without your things you broke down crying. you started realising that the man you loved for all these years really cheated on you.

you broke down once again, this time when you were in the nursery because having a family and growing this kid with love was all you wished for.

your best friend comforted you and helped you packing. while you were at home waiting for kylian, she got all of your stuff back to your old apartment. it wasn’t as nice as kylian’s, but it was big enough for you to be growing your baby.

sat on the sofa and watching the eiffel tower shining, you heard the front door opening and what you saw was a very broken and suffering kylian.

good.

he needed so suffer.

“baby…i…” he started talking but you stopped him.

“y/n…not baby, my name’s y/n”

“i’m so sorry mon amour, i - i don’t know what happened…” he started explaining and you let him, you already knew that no matter what he said you were not going to forgive him “i guess i was just drunk and caught up in the moment…i know it’s not an excuse but i really have none…i’m so so sorry for doing this to you, you didn’t deserve it…”

“we didn’t deserve it…” you said laying a hand on your belly “i don’t give a fuck if you were drunk or not, you cheated on me! kylian this is unforgivable, don’t give a shit if you’re the father of my baby…i don’t wanna see you or hear you ever again” you said standing up from the couch.

“what-you can’t be serious…no, no i can’t lose you y/n, you’re everything for me, you and the baby…i love you both so much…”

“i’m deadass serious mbappè” you tried to keep a serious tone but you broke down when you started seeing that woman around kylian’s body in your mind “i’ve loved you for all of these years kylian, i still love you but right now i can’t even stay in the same room as you…you make me sick, in less than three months our baby will be here and - and i can’t even stand to see your face” you cried “i gave you everything! kylian, how could you do this to me? to us?”

“i know i have no excuses…i’m just so sorry, i can’t even say how much sorry i am…”

“i don’t care how sorry you are” you sobbed “i really don’t…you just broke everything we had, this, our family…”

“don’t say this please…” kylian walked towards you but you stopped him. he wanted to punch himself, he wanted to scream and cry, he wanted to hold you and wipe your tears away but he knew he fucked up really bad.

“i already packed my things…i won’t be living here, i can’t even stand to see your face right now…”

“no, you can’t leave me y/n please…i love you so much, i fucked up i know but i’ll work for your forgiveness, i’ll make it up to you” he cried. he knew it was over. he lost.

“i really don’t care…” you said. exhausted.

“don’t do this please…don’t break our family apart”

“you did it kylian the moment you kissed that girl, and i know that it wasn’t only a kiss, i know you fucked her, the look you had in the video…i know that look pretty good…you’re the one to blame…you’ll be hearing from my lawyer” you said before leaving his apartment.

kylian broke you in so many ways you couldn’t even explain but your baby deserved to have a father, you just didn’t want to be a part of it.

his mom and his family helped you during the last months of pregnancy, he tried to call you so many times that you had to block him.

you didn’t want him inside the room when you were giving birth. your mom was there, his mom was there too and that was all the support you needed.

you began to think about how it would have been if he never cheated on you, how your baby would have two beautiful parents that loved each others but now your child was stuck with two parents who kept fighting and couldn’t see each others.

all because kylian couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

part 2

[feral-ffa]

Ever wondered how those instagram foodie account girls stay skinny even though they're eating 5 items from a different trendy restaurant every day?

You had idly wondered that, but most of all you just couldn't believe your luck when you finally sealed the deal with a cute and sweet rising star foodie.

The first time the two of you went out for a content shooting dinner, it was to a nice fusion sit down place. She told you she'd mostly just talk to her tripod. All you had to do was get some close up shots of crispy crusts and cheese pulls and then just not eat till she had all the footage she needed. Easy trade off for a free dinner with a beautiful girl!

When the waiter came around, she rattled off an order of two house cocktails, two apps, and three entrees, before turning to you and asking you to pick your favorite entree too. You obliged, ordering pineapple fried rice.

When the food came out, she started taking pictures and recording, and she was still working on the appetizers when the 4 big entrees came to the table. You did your best suppressing your hunger and helping her get the perfect shot of her sampling each dish. When she was done and told you to dig in, you both started devouring the still-warm food. But you had to state the obvious. "There's no way we can finish all this."

She waved you off. "We'll take the rest in to-go boxes. Not like it's going to waste."

Still, it seemed like a shame to not have the food hot and fresh out of the kitchen. She got full shortly, but you plugged on, finishing the entirety of the lettuce wraps and spring roll appetizers, both desserts she ordered, and the sweet and saucy pork adobo. It felt like you barely put a dent in the other dishes, so you got to go boxes.

As full as you felt leaving, the siren call of leftovers lured you to the fridge twice more that night.

~~~~~~~

And so it went, your girlfriend taking you to snack joints and restaurants to help film, and you doing your best to clean the plates after. You never truly could though, always bested by her choice of rich cuisines or gimmicky posts ranking every kind of cronut or rice dog a place offered.

Until you all went to a fancy prix fixe place she had fought to get reservations for. You each got five modest portions of perfectly cooked food and you cleaned yours up no problem. She had started to get winded by the meat course and only had half of her dessert.

"Finally a member of the clean plate club, huh?" she teased as she snapped a picture of the receipt.

"Well they give you those small fancy portions," you protested. "Two bites of quail. Two bites of steak. Three raviolis. Tastes good though."

She just laughed and gave you an affectionate pat on the tummy.

~~~~~~~

You did find yourself having to size up your clothes as the seasons changed, but again, you considered it a reasonable tradeoff for the pampered life you were now living.

"I hope you're ready for this," your girlfriend chided you on the way to the state fair in the summer. She was partnering with them for a series of 'everything I ate at the state fair' videos, which of course was actually going to be everything you ate.

You faithfully videoed her taking the first bite of what felt like a million little snacks, making sure to capture her reaction. Wide eyes at the cheese pull from a mozzarella stick, unimpressed at a dry turkey leg, laughing as she got a good angle to chomp down on tornado fries, smiling in pleasure at cherry topped funnel cake.

Soon as she was satisfied with the footage, she would pass the greasy treat off to you and drag you to the next line. You lost count of all the fair food you hurriedly plowed through that day, the hand dipped corn dogs, berry shortcakes, bbq sandwiches, and fried oreos.

The shoot ended with you finishing off a huge fresh squeezed cold lemonade she had taken one (1) sip of. It was the only thing you had room for, and you felt it filling in the gaps in your already food-stuffed gut. You waddled after her to the petting zoo, where she wanted to treat herself to some baby animal cuddles as a reward for getting all the footage and b-roll she needed before sundown.

Before you sat on the bench outside for a breather, you noticed your stuffed belly peeking out of your shirt. Sure you just ate nearly everything the fair had to offer, but this was a new XXL shirt! You glanced at her inside the pen, scratching a piglet behind the ears.

"The pigs are my favorite."

"Yeah, I bet."

~~~~~~~

You went ahead and bought new shirts and pants again. As time passed you got better at eating as much of your girlfriend's orders as possible in one sitting. You especially looked forward to when she did collab videos with her friends. They'd reserve a long table and it would be laden with over a dozen meals. You got to try everything, eat as much as you wanted of your favorites, and there would still be leftovers.

One night before going out to film at a sushi restaurant, she warned you, "this is a hand roll place and i booked us the omakase menu, it's $250 for 6 small bites."

You helped her get pics and enjoyed the delicious savory raw seafood, but she caught the downcast look on your face and the hand on your belly after you left.

"Don't tell me you're still hungry?"

"You aren't?"

"No, I actually finished every course. Even the miso soup."

"Well I'm used to cleaning up after you don't finish every course!" You wrapped your arms around her, and pulled her in close to whisper in her ear. "You always pick where we go, can I choose somewhere just this once?"

"Let me guess," she said as she leaned into your soft belly. "You want to stop at mcdonalds?"

So the two of you stopped at the drive thru, chatting and laughing in the car as you worked your way through a big bag of burgers and fries.

~~~~~~~

You continued to feel grateful for this lifestyle, but you were especially excited when your girlfriend told you she booked a reservation at Pina's Table, a new Italian restaurant that was already getting lots of buzz on the socials.

When you arrived for your reservation, both in nicer clothes for the opening weekend, you were shown to a intimate booth near the back. You felt a little nervous sliding in, as you could just barely fit. But before long you were more focused on the menu. After she ordered her usual sampler spread of two apps, two cocktails and three entrees, the waiter turned to you for your selection, and you decided to be bolder today.

"How about the chicken marsala. And the baked ziti."

Both of your selections looked so good when they arrived, you could barely stop drooling while filming her slicing open a burrata and tasting the spaghetti all'amatriciana. It felt like a million years passed before she gave you the OK to dig in.

You started off sampling a little bit of everything, and it was of course just as good as expected. You were enjoying a mouthful of ziti when the flash from her phone went off. Startled, you looked up. Had she forgotten to get a picture of something?

"Sorry," she blushed, putting her phone back down. "You're enjoying yourself so much, I just wanted to save it to remember."

You laughed. "If that's good, just wait till after I'm done."

You dug into the warm food, savoring the light burrata and tomato salad and the heavier mushroom ravioli and amatriciana. You ate with relish for what seemed like ages until you started to feel the table pushing into your swollen stomach.

Exhausted, you leaned back, against the soft booth, your fullness finally catching up to you. You subtly opened the top button of your pants, letting your belly flow out to bump the table again. There was still so much of each entree left....

You were spared from the eternal dilemma by the chef, a young and energetic guy, coming to the table to drop off a sampling of cannoli and gelato. Your girlfriend jumped up excitedly to shake his hand and take selfies, and passed the phone to you to you could take a couple pictures of them... after you struggled to haul yourself to your feet.

"Thank you so much for helping get the word out," she chef thanked her profusely. "Pina's Table is my baby. I'm thrilled how many people turned out for it."

"Thank you so much for inviting us!" Your girlfriend chirped in reply. "Everything was delicious."

"I'm thrilled you enjoyed it! It's a labor of love." The chef clapped her on the shoulder before turning to you. "And of course your seal approval means just as much too! Seems like you enjoyed, huh?" He gave your belly a playful poke.

"I wouldn't be where I am now without the belly behind the account," your girlfriend agreed, reaching over to give your tummy another squeeze, jostling out a small burp.

The pair of them shared another laugh and selfie before the chef left to go gladhand some other tables.

"Should we get the to-go boxes?" she asked, patting you gently on the butt as you squeezed yourself back into the booth.

"I think I have a little room left."

You pulled the plate of ravioli in front of you and started working on it again as she took a short video of the desserts.

'The belly behind the account,' huh? You could get used to that.

[absolutewhore101]

Better Man - Chapter 5

A/N: here's chapter 5! taglist is being updated with every post, so lmk if you want to be added/removed. i'm looking to do updates every monday, so stay tuned :)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Listen to 'Better Man' by Taylor Swift; Stage 3 - bargaining (kind of)

Warnings: swearing, Joel

Word Count: 1.4K

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

This is a journal entry.

MINORS DNI

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

The stairs leading up to your bedroom had never felt so tiresome, but you were dragging yourself up by the time you reached the top. 

That fight never should have happened. Carly never should’ve happened. Joel never should have happened. All you needed was the reassurance that you did the right thing, but who could you even go to?

You were sure that the people you’d come to call friends almost certainly knew about Joel, and none of them had told you. 

You couldn’t talk to Tommy, that much was obvious. You thought about talking to Ellie, but even if she did know, this wasn’t her problem. 

Was it only you? Were you truly the last person to know?

You sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the wall in front of you. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, all of them focused on Joel. 

How could he have done this? There was nothing you could’ve done to stop him once he started, but wasn’t there something you could’ve done to prevent it?

Why weren’t you enough?

A tear dropped off the bottom of your chin, landing delicately on your hand. 

You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the notebook you’d had for a few months. That journal was the only thing you felt truly comfortable sharing everything with after you found out about Joel. 

You fished around for a pen, but came up empty. Walking past Ellie’s room, you peeked in, finding her gone. 

You shook your head, assuming she had never come home in the first place, as you made your way downstairs.

Walking into the kitchen felt more painful than it should’ve - Joel’s coffee mug was on the counter, rings stained around the inside of it. The book he’d been reading left on the table, bookmarked to the page he'd left off on. 

You walked past all of it and went to the junk drawer, grabbing a pen and heading into the living room. 

You sat down on the couch, pulling your feet up underneath you, and started writing. 

I know…

You paused. 

What did you know?

I know that I’m probably better off on my own. Better off than loving a man who didn’t know what he had when he had it.

You wiped your face, willing your bottom lip to stop trembling. 

You flipped back through the pages you’d already written in, rereading the words you’d spilled when you started to suspect Joel was cheating on you. 

It was easy to see the permanent damage that he’d done to you. You weren’t sure you’d ever find love in the world after it ended, and you were certain you’d never find it again. 

And then you flipped back even further, back to the hearts and doodles and the love you’d needed so badly to get out. 

Why couldn’t you just forget when it was magic? When everything was okay?

There were so many thoughts swirling around in your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put them on paper. Instead, you placed your journal on the coffee table and went back upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. 

You splashed some water on your face, hoping to rid yourself of the redness that occupied your cheeks.

“You know you had to do it.” You muttered. 

God, why did it have to be like this? You used to be curled up in bed with Joel by this point, whispering sweet words to each other until you fell asleep. 

Now, it was the middle of the night, and you were trying to convince yourself that the bravest thing you’ve ever done in this fucked up world was run. 

From Joel and everything he signified now. From Tommy and the sympathy that could only go so far. From all of Jackson, and the inevitable stares that you were expecting. 

You walked back into your bedroom, pulling back the covers and laying down. 

“I just miss you.” You whispered into the dark. “But I just wish you were a better man.”

—---------

When you woke up, you found yourself reaching for his side of the bed, only to find it empty. 

The events of last night came rushing back to you, and you couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes. 

You got out of bed, trudging down the hallway and back downstairs. You didn’t have the appetite for breakfast, but you suddenly found the inspiration to write. 

Your journal felt heavier than it ever had before, and you knew it was the weight of the words you’d written last night. You couldn’t help but wonder how much heavier it’d feel in a few days, and if it would ever feel so light again. 

I know that I’m probably better off all alone. I don’t need a man who can change his mind at any given minute. 

And suddenly, the sadness you had felt just last night had morphed into anger. 

And it was always on his terms! I waited on every word that came out of his mouth, hoping they’d turn sweet again… like they were in the beginning. 

The jealousy that he had for you that you were never able to place popped into your mind. 

He’d always been jealous of the love you were able to so freely give - he’d said so himself one night. He didn’t understand how you could love him so unconditionally, could love the world so openly. 

Was that when he started talking down to you? When he realized that he’d never be good enough for you? 

He talked to you like he knew you’d always be around, and maybe you would’ve. Maybe you would’ve stayed with him if he talked to you like that - pushing your love away like it was some kind of loaded gun. 

But you couldn’t be the third person in your relationship. You should’ve been the first, and Joel just didn’t seem to get that. 

And he never thought you’d run. 

You looked out the window, seeing a crowd of people gathering in the middle of town. You stood up, trying to get a better view of what was happening. 

All of a sudden, laughter sounded, loud enough that you could hear it inside your house. 

Curiosity got the best of you, so you opened your door, walking out onto your porch. 

You could finally see what everyone was crowded around - Joel. 

“I’m shocked you survived!” Someone yelled. 

“Yeah, looks like it did a number on you!”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Had he gone on a run this morning? Had an infected gotten too close?

Tommy walked around the crowd, eyes locked on you. You wanted to turn around and go back inside, locking the door behind you, but something kept you rooted in your spot. 

“What’s going on?” You asked him once he was close enough to hear you. 

Tommy shook his head, gesturing you to go back inside. 

You were ready to protest, to tell him he had no right to step foot in your house, but he spoke before you could.

“Please. They don’t need to see this.”

You followed him inside, shutting the door behind you as Tommy turned to face you. 

“What were they talking about?” You said, anxiety creeping into you. 

Tommy hesitated before he answered. 

“You.”

“Me?” You asked.

He nodded. “You, Joel… last night. Word got around pretty fast that he’d moved in with Carly and people came knocking.”

You felt nauseous. The town you lived in, the people you once called friends, were celebrating that Joel was finally free of you. And he was loving it. 

Your knees buckled, but Tommy caught you before you could hit the floor, helping you walk over to the couch. 

“This can’t be real.” You muttered, looking up at him. 

His lips drew into a thin line. “I’m afraid it is.”

Your eyes closed, head tipping back to rest against the back of the couch. 

If Joel was a better man, this wouldn’t be happening. 

If Joel was a better man, you’d still be in love. 

“Tommy?” You said.

“Yeah.” He responded. 

“I know why I had to say goodbye to Joel like the back of my hand, but why couldn’t he just be a better man?”

Tommy’s jaw clenched, head swimming as he thought about what Joel had put you through, and how he hadn’t done anything to stop it. 

“I don’t know.” 

That was the last thing he said before he walked out of your house, gently closing the door behind him. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there on the couch, tears falling down your cheeks, before you picked your journal back up. 

He would’ve been the one if he was a better man.

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

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[jpmarvel90]

PR Relationship

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Word Count: 3110

Relationship: Scarlett x Singer Reader

Summary: Y/n and Scarlett are in love with each other and have a secret relationship that only a select few know about. Things change when Y/n finds out that Scarlett may have her eyes on someone else.

(I do not own the rights to the lyrics, I just think this sounds fits the story perfectly. It’s Secret Love Song by Little Mix.)

Y/N’s POV:

For the last 3 months, I have been dating the beautiful Scarlett Johansson. However, as she hasn’t come out yet, it was a complete secret with only Lizzie Olsen knowing the truth. At first it didn’t bother me at all. It was exciting. The sneaking around was fun and trying to sneak dates and kisses without being caught was exhilarating. But the last couple of weeks have started to get tiring. If ever I stay over, she’s kicking me out at like 5am so I don’t get caught by the paps, we never travel anywhere together and I’ve lost count of the amount of times she’s totally changed her demeanour around me because someone has walked by us.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand that Scarlett is scared of coming out. I’ve already done that and it wasn’t easy. I would never push her to do anything she’s uncomfortable with. But it’s starting to hurt, it feels more like she’s hiding me rather than protecting herself. Thing is, I love her and I’m willing to wait for her. Which is the problem, I’m scared this might break me.

So here I am, 4:30 in the morning tiptoeing around her bedroom getting ready to sneak out. I don’t want to wake her, she’s been so busy at work she deserves a good rest. I throw on some sweatpants and a hoody whilst picking up my underwear from the floor after last night’s activities. I leave a gentle kiss on Scarlett’s forehead before slipping out of the house, unheard, into the early morning.

As I’m sat in my car I can feel the exhaustion seeping through my body. I had been spending most nights at Scar’s which meant I was only getting a few hours sleep and it was starting to catch up with me. I’ve got to be at the studio at 8am so I decide there is no point in heading home. Instead I make my way to the beach to watch the sunrise and go for a swim. There’s no better way to start my day. Well other than getting to sleep in my girlfriends arms past 5!

I get to the studio early and I start having all of these thoughts in my head which I start to collate and write down. Lyrics forming as I write. I’ve not felt this inspired for a long time

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

It’s not until I start to pull the lyrics together that I realise how much this whole situation is hurting me. By the end of the day it’s all starting to come together, the quickest that I have ever written a song. My team love it and are already planning for me to sing it on Jimmy Kimmel. I push back though. It’s not fair to Scarlett to hear about my feelings through an interview. But writing the song has helped, I’m feeling better already.

As I get into the car I check my phone. I’ve not spoken with Scarlett all day. That’s not unusual as for us though. But a smile forms on my face when I see a message from her.

Scarlett:

Hey Babe, thanks for this morning. I really needed that sleep. I know you’re in the studio all day so can’t talk. I’m working late but perhaps you could come over tomorrow? Love you xx

Me:

Hey Scar, no problem, you need your sleep! Tomorrow would be great. Love you too xx

The next evening I’m sat on the sofa in Scarlett’s living room her legs draped over mine as we watch TV. She has her laptop resting on her legs finishing up the last bit of work before she’s done for the day. I’m just sat scrolling through my phone when I seeing articles popping up about Scarlett and her new partner. We’d been so careful to not been seen together in more than a friendly capacity. In fact, by the way we act in public you wouldn’t think we were that close as friends.

But then my heart stops, the articles aren’t referring to me but Chris Evans. What the fuck?! I can feel my heart beating faster like it’s going to beat out of my chest. Then I click on one article, “Co-Stars Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans spotting kissing on a dinner date.” A photo accompanying it. That was yesterday! I sit up with a jolt feeling like I was going to be sick. My God she’s cheating on me and she’s not even trying to hide it!

“Hey what’s wrong Babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Scarlett says concerned looking over her laptop to me. I try to speak but I can’t form words. I can see her starting to get worried as she puts her laptop down on the table and goes to put her arm on my back. I’m quick to pull away and just throw my phone in her direction. She looks at the screen and her eyes grow wide.

“Y/N this isn’t what it looks like, I swear. Please..” Running my hands through my hair I stand up not even able to sit next to her. “I mean it looks like you’ve got your tongue down Evans’ throat. Not sure what else it could look like Scarlett!” I say coldly trying so hard not to yell. “Is this why you hid me? Not wanting anyone to know. Am I the dirty little secret to keep until you have Evans?” Pacing round the room I can feel my chest get tighter and my breathing becoming erratic.

“NO! I’m not cheating on you Y/N, I love you!” “THEN WHAT IS THIS!” So much for not shouting. I can feel my heart breaking in two. “Please just let me explain. With the new Avengers movie coming out our teams thought it would be good PR if we got some rumours going about being in a relationship. We had lunch and dinner dates here and there making sure to look like a couple for the paparazzi. I promise you Y/N there is nothing going on.”

I immediately stop my pacing, turning to her in disbelief. “So you can’t tell anyone about me, but you’re happy to go along with a fake relationship for you movie. Great, good to know where I sit in your priorities. Did you even consider telling me, it’s weird but I would have understood? Instead I find out by finding a picture of you kissing!” I can’t stop the tears anymore, but I won’t let her see me sob.

“Y/N please…” Scarlett grabs my hands trying to get me to look at her. “I-I can’t do this anymore.” I whisper pulling my hands away. “Wait, what do you mean? Y/N?” she says in a scared tone. “I’ve spent the last 3 months doing everything you ever asked. I never pushed for you to do anything you were uncomfortable with, even if it was at a detriment to me. I was waiting for you to be happy in yourself that you could share us with the world. I have always put your first. I knew this could break me and it has. I need to put myself first this time as it’s evident you won’t.” Turning my back on her I grab my things and walk towards her door.

I can hear her running up behind me and she grabs my shoulders spinning me around. “No, you can’t go. I’m so sorry Y/N, I love you, please you can’t leave me. Don’t go we can work this out.” Looking in her eyes I can see the pain. Her cheeks are stained with tears. “We don’t need to work anything out Scar, you do. I just hope you find happiness one day without having to hide yourself way.” With that I walk out, my heart tearing from my chest. A part of me just wishing that one day she might be ready for this relationship as a whole.

Scarlett’s POV:

I had really fucked this up. I hadn’t slept for days and had shut myself away, calling in sick to work to avoid seeing anyone. I had never felt pain like this. Y/N was my world. I love her with all my heart. I had always intended to tell the everyone but it just felt too hard and she was so great at giving me time. But this PR relationship with Chris was by far the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. This isn’t me, I don’t intentionally hurt people but it feels like I did with Y/N.

Whilst in my cave of self-pity and depression I hear banging on the door. Dragging myself up I find an angry Lizzie stood there with her Wanda head tilt. Shit that’s terrifying! “What the fuck Scar?!” She huffs pushing herself into my house. “Well hello to you too Lizzie” I half chuckle. “You broke her when all she has ever done is put your first. I warned you that you needed to be honest with yourself or you’ll lose her.” She’s angry but her tone softens when she sees the state I’m in. “Geeze Scar when was the last time you slept?” She said pulling me in for a hug. “I can’t sleep without her.” I whisper tears starting to form in my eyes.

We move to the sofa and she takes my hands in hers. “From what I hear, Y/N didn’t get much sleep with you. Staying up til God knows when with you then being kicked out at 5am. Did you not notice how tired she’d been?” I just shake my head in shame. “I’ve screwed up Lizzie and I don’t know how to get her back. I’ve told my team I won’t go ahead with the fake relationship anymore but I know I need to do so much more than that to show her I’m in this for the long run.” I don’t dare even speak that I’m terrified that I’ve lost her forever, in fear that speaking it will make it true.

“Scarlett, you need to decide what scares you the most. Coming out and fearing people will see you differently, or losing Y/N, the woman you are madly in love with, for good. Just don’t take too long in making that decision or it could be too late.” She pulls me into a hug and we lie together on the sofa. “I miss her Lizzie” I sniffle. “Well, she’s performing on Jimmy Kimmel. How about we watch that?” I nod and she grabs the remote switching over to her performance.

Y/N’s Performance:

Jimmy: Performing her latest single, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!

The lights dim with a sole spotlight shining on Y/N who is sat at a piano. She starts to play as the notes ring out through the studio.

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

As you drive me to my house

I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down

You and I both have to hide

On the outside where I can't be yours and you

Can't be mine

But I know this

We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

It's obvious you're meant for me

Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly

Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep

But I'll never show it on my face

But we know this, we got a love that is homeless

Why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

I don't wanna live love this way

I don't wanna hide us away

I wonder if it ever will change

I'm living for that day

Someday

When you hold me in the street

And you kiss me on the dance floor

I wish that we could be like that

Why can't we be like that

'Cause I'm yours, I'm yours

Oh, why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't we be like that

Wish we could be like that

The lights faded as the camera zoomed in close enough to see that Y/N was crying before the stage went dark and the audience erupt in applause.

Scarlett’s POV:

Lizzie and I just sat there in silence. I could hear the pain in her voice and it hurt me to know that it was me that caused it. I was pulled out of my trance by Lizzie squeezing me into a tight hug whispering in my ear. “If this didn’t help you decide then I don’t know what will.” She was right, the only person who I care about is Y/N. I’m not scared anymore. I’m going to win her back.

I’m up all night with Lizzie working a way out that I can come out and show my love for Y/N. An Instagram post didn’t seem like enough and a press release was too impersonal. It needed to be something special, and that’s when Lizzie came up with a risky but perfect plan. I just hope that she could forgive me and we can start out lives together a fresh.

Timeskip

It was a week later and here I am sat in the back of Y/N’s limo. She just doesn’t know it. It’s the night of the Grammy’s and Y/N is up for an award. I’m so proud of her and it’s time to show her that she is my number one priority. Lizzie’s grand plan so far had worked. We spoke with Y/N’s team and I explained the whole situation. Her manager was surprisingly nice about and said that it explained a lot about her behaviour recently. She had agreed to arrange a secret plus one for Y/N. I would wait in her car to surprise to walk down the red carpet with her, as her girlfriend. I just hoped she wouldn’t kick me out on the curb.

My heart rate starts to pick up as I hear her talking as she walk towards the car. God I’ve missed that voice. The car door opens and she gets in letting out a slight sigh as she sits. It takes her a moment before she notices me sat there with a nervous smile on my face and she jumps “Jesus Scar, you scared the shit out of me.” We both let out an awkward chuckle. “What are you doing here?” She asks not quite able to maintain the eye contact. This is it, the moment I win my girl back.

I put my finger under her chin and lift it so she’s looking at me. My God she is breathtakingly beautiful! I then take both of her hands in mine taking a deep breath “Y/N. Since the day I met you, I knew I was going to fall madly in love with you. Every day I spent with you I fell more and more in love. No one has ever made me as happy as you do. I know it’s only been 3 months but I know you are the women I want to spend the rest of my life with. I screwed up, I know I can’t take that back. I was so paralysed with fear about coming out and people’s reaction to it, that I didn’t think about you and our relationship. I just let you carry on making the sacrifices for me. But today that changes. I love you with all my heart and I’m not prepared to lose you again. I am so fucking proud of what you have achieve this last year. You deserve everything you are going to get tonight. And…. If you’ll have me… I want to be there for you every step of the way. No more hiding. I want to walk down that red carpet on your arm as your proud girlfriend. And then I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

There is a long silence as her eyes flicker between my own trying to get a read of me. I hope she can see how sincere I’m being, that I mean every word that I’m saying. “Don’t hurt me again. I don’t think I can survive if you do.” She whispers. The biggest smile appears on my face as I reach up and put my hand to her cheek wiping away the stray tear. “I promise I won’t. Can I kiss you?” I ask. “You never have to ask Scar.” And with that I pull her into a passionate kiss. I have missed her lips connecting with mine. It makes me feel complete. “You look absolutely beautiful Y/N. I’m so glad I get to call you mine.” She laughs and pulls me in for another soft kiss.

As we pull up to the venue Y/N grabs my hand. “Are you sure Scar? I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret.” I look at her and smile. “The only regret I have is not telling the world how much I love you sooner. Let’s do this.” The fear is gone, I’m only excited now. As the door to the limo opens, I see the start of our new life together.  

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 5

Pt.1 Prev

Pt.5 (tws; mention of unhealthy eating habits,)

Danny let out a long sigh as he stood up, cursing whatever gods decided to mess with his life. He had just gotten comfortable too! He was in the zone, productive, then this.

“Terry, if you two so much as touch my bed I will kill you.” His roomate, Terry, had just come in loud and boisterous as always, rambling about how Danny had to leave for the night, again. Ancients what was with this guy.

“Yeah, yeah dude I got it, don't touch your shit. Now could you please hurry? She’ll be here in like 2 minutes,” Terry said as Danny, grumpily, shoved books in his backpack.

“You,” Danny pointed at a finger at him, “Have a problem.”

“Uh huh, now move. Come on vamanos,” he replied, ushering Danny through the door.

“And you owe me,”

“Mhhm,” and the door shut in his face. Great. Now he has to find somewhere to stay for the night, preferably without getting mugged. It had been almost two weeks since his terrible awful horrible day featuring the Joker, Red Hood, and a very hangry seagull, and nothing too out of the ordinary had happened. Well, aside from the fact that Danny was being stalked by an ex-crime lord turned vigilante.

Some would say he’s being paranoid and that would probably be fair, Danny had nothing to go off of save for an unsettling feeling of being watched, and the occasional hum of a muffled core. But it was so clearly the hooded man who had taken him for burgers not two weeks ago. It didn’t really matter that much, he just had to keep a lid on his ghostliness is all, but being watched like that was still unsettling.

Regardless, Danny hoisted his bag further onto his shoulder and headed down the hall, he’d probably find a coffee shop or library or something to study in. Classes had only been in session for about a week and a half but the ghost was already swamped with homework. Well that’s what he gets for dumping all his required classes into the first semester.

A brightly colored blur moved in his peripheral vision as he entered a quaint shop. Danny had found this place roughly ten days ago while hunting for some decent espresso. The coffee shop stayed open until eleven at night, one might figure how that would attract coffee addicted insomniacs, as such, Danny had visited this shop every evening usually around 8. So it was a bit of a surprise to see him settling into a nook at 4 in the afternoon. Once Danny was thoroughly satisfied with his setup, he went to order.

“Hey Danny!” Anne greeted from behind the counter, she was busy tying an apron around her waist but gave a small wave anyway, giving a slight nod, “Aren’t you here a bit early? You're usually my closing customer, not my opening,” she joked.

“Yeah, well my roommate kind of kicked me out,so here I am,” They said, smiling as they gestured to themself and the shop at large.

“You want your usual?” she asked, hand poised over the tablet at the register. Their usual was 8 shots of espresso with, what sam called, ‘an ungodly amount of sweet cream and chocolate.’

But at 4 o’clock Danny figured they’d get an early dinner/late lunch instead.

“Actually I’ll have a hot chocolate, dark, with extra cream,” they said grinning, “Oh and add some caramel.”

Anne raised one eyebrow, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she held back a small chuckle, “Anything else? Food maybe? You look like you haven’t eaten,” and, well, maybe that was true, when was the last time they’d eaten? 6 am maybe? They had a bagel.

“Uuuuuummmmm,” Danny’s eyes scanned the board on the wall behind Anne, “Surprise me? Something with chocolate,” They said. Anne smirked.

“You got it, give me one moment,” Danny moved to the side as she began work on their order. The shop was quiet, save for the loud whirring of the various machines behind the bar. There were a few patrons scattered around, engrossed in their own devices. Which made it all the more noticable, to Danny apparently as no one else seemed to bat an eye, when a scruffy, black haired teenager dressed in red and black stumbled in.

Red Robin’s eyes swept the small shop for a moment before he started moving toward the counter.

“Hey RR, I’ll be with you in a moment,” Anne called from her place at the espresso machine. Danny just stared, mouth probably hanging wide open. Why was Red Robin at their favorite coffee place? And why was everyone here so chill with it?

Danny was pulled from their wondering when Anne deposited their hot chocolate and some coffee cake next to them. They took the food but didn’t move from their place. Seriously? Danny knew plenty of superheroes/ vigilantes (Okay maybe only like two but that's semantics) They should be acting cool about this. But it was just so strange. Maybe this is how Amity Parkers felt whenever they had to watch Phantom have a screaming match with a faulty vending machine, or Red Huntress and Phantom sharing a burger whilst covered head to toe in ectoplasm.

“Your regular five o’clock death wish?” Anne asked, already typing the order into the register, not even looking up when Red Robin nodded. Ancients, did that kid look tired. It was hard to tell with the mask, but he couldn’t have been more than 17. No 17 year old had the right to have such a weary look to their eyes at only 5 in the afternoon. Danny should know, they had sported the same look at his age.

And wasn’t that a thought.

Anne handed off the DeathWish to RR who immediately took a very long drink. Danny was surprised the kid hadn’t chugged it all in one go. He thanked Anne, paid and disappeared out the door, curling himself around the coffee all the while, like it was a precious artifact or something.

“Was that Red Robin?”

“Mhhhm,” Anne replied, “He comes in here before patrol every once in a while. Treats coffee like a lifeline. He’s addicted if you ask me. Once, he ordered three Death Wishes in one sitting. I asked if he was sharing and he just stared at me with dead eyes.”

“oh. Well that’s… something.” Danny said, moving back to his study nook. And Danny thought they were obsessed with coffee. But three death wishes? Three??? At once????? This city's vigilantes were all batshit insane. They'd have to talk to Lady Gotham about her taste in knights.

“You’re telling me,” She snorted. As Danny returned to his English homework. God why did it have to be English homework. Well at least he had chocolate.

About two hours later, Danny almost spit out their coffee when Red Robin came back for more.

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

Notes; Ahhhhhhh, just a little blrb. I was gonna do more but then I didn't feel like it, so have this little encounter while I think of ways to work civilian Jason into Danny’s life.

And If you think I’m projecting my chocolate addiction onto Danny than you are absolutely right.

I Love Comments! I love reblogs! I read them all and they fuel my willpower to write more!

Uuuh dont know what else to say sooo… *Throws glitter and scampers away*

Pt.6

[guzhufuren]

Favourite KimChay Fics pt.1 (in alphabetical order)

1. An Elegant Mechanism by @laughsalot3412 https://archiveofourown.org/works/42223701

Kim was only an omega when he was luring people closer to his gun. No one had to give Kim a weapon. He was one.

(Kim's mission is to get close to Porchay Kittisawat. Chay is not a typical alpha. Kim is not a typical omega. Kim isn't having feelings and Chay is going to be so normal about all of this.)

2. checkmate by @majestictortoise https://archiveofourown.org/series/3041331

Porsche watches the security video from Yok's bar. He has so many questions.

Kim ruins some of his father's plans, talks about his feelings, totally doesn't cry, and finally gets to kiss a cute boy.

3. dancing with our hands tied by @staykimchay https://archiveofourown.org/series/3051495

The post canon fic in which Chay decides he wants to go out and get drunk and instead gets himself into a whole heap of trouble. The events which follow will break and mend hearts, forge new alliances and, perhaps most importantly, earn Chay the reputation he deserves.

4. I Just Want To Stay Here by @sweet-william-writes https://archiveofourown.org/works/39742848

In which Porchay comes home from his camp to find his brother mysteriously gone and his idol sitting in front of his house waiting to ask him for a seemingly simple favour AKA to hell with canon I refuse to let baby Chay get kidnapped so I make it Kim's problem and get domestic about it

5. idiots & idioms by @thecookiemonster77 https://archiveofourown.org/series/3061830

W I ꓘ ✓ @ WiK hi this is p’wik’s boyfriend. i broke my ankle and am confined to the sofa to heal because my boyfriend’s terrible, so AMA until i get kicked off

stan first, live second @ kerders @ WiK wait you’re real???????

W I ꓘ ✓ @ WiK @ kerders idk if this is supposed to be a jab at me or imply p’wik would make up a boyfriend like a loser in high school

Chay does an AMA on the official Wik twitter. Kim's reputation may not survive.

6. karma is a cat (purring in my lap) by @staykimchay https://archiveofourown.org/series/3208398

The night air is warm and humid. A full moon hangs in the sky above the city like a beacon in the dark. Chay sighs to himself and looks up at it. Today marks the month anniversary of Kim breaking up with him—if you can call it that.

AKA the fic where Chay gets turned into a kitten, manages to find Kim and has the unfortunate position of watching everyone he loves think he’s missing.

7. More or Less https://archiveofourown.org/works/40492791

Finding out both his brother and his crush were involved with the mafia had not been Porchay's intention when he'd gone to investigate where his brother had actually disappeared off to but that was what he'd gotten. So he had no choice but to deal with it somehow.

8. One Second Chance https://archiveofourown.org/works/40358589

Alright, he’d talked to Chay, he’d written the man a song, neither of that had gotten through. What else could he do? Kim needed options. And maybe a miracle.

(Fix it fic while we wait for second season)

9. With Every Guitar String Scar on My Hand I Take This Man to Be My Lover https://archiveofourown.org/works/40088208

People not noticing that Kim and Chay are a couple and one time they do. Everyone going "That's suspicious, that's weird...anyway."

[nrdmssgs]

The dropouts (part 1)

Masterlist

you are here I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6

Genre: Angst, action, occasional comfort, smut at the very start Pairing: Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova (OC) x Nikto Summary: Nikto is quite calm about the fact, that one day he will die on a battlefield. Until he meets his death.

TWs: This whole series will be revolving around a person living with an acute dissociative disorder. This is a serious condition and people living with it deserve nothing but endless love and any help, they personally would want. That be said, this is a work of fiction, nothing more.

AN: For those of you, who are asking themselves what the hell is going on and how we ended here - this is my take on how would Olgas life look like in a universe, where she doesn't end up with Nikolai. Her series with Nik are not over, don't worry. He's my №1 for my girl! I was planning to a completely other character for her, but my dear @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot came and said 'hey, NIKTO'. And I thought, why the hell not, since he almost killed her in the original series. So if I am allowed - I would dedicate this series to my friend Chris, who keeps reminding me, that healing is an option. Even when both of them are a mess.

“What's the color of your death's eyes.” Sasha descends on his length, her breath hitches and then her breasts flinch with a sharp inhale.

Her words: half a tease, half a pep talk, doesn't awake any respond. Nikto is too deep in his thoughts to let a single sound slip past his lips. He should consider himself lucky for having someone like Sasha. She's always hungry for him, but not as much as to demand more than these occasional nights. She is a brave little thing - doesn't hold abomination for what is left of his face. So what if their lips never meet - it cuts no ice as long as he can grab her thighs greedily and drive her closer to his calloused torso. 

He doesn't need this uplifting ‘your death is non-existent’ chatter today. Fuck death when he's got this little thing. Or better: fuck her, until she forgets her own eyes color.

The morning after catches Nikto alone - they don't have that much to talk about after the deed is done, so Sasha tend to leave him as soon as possible. The only thing, she leaves him is a weak scent of her perfume on his pillow.

Nikto checks his phone and squints at the bright display. It's five in the morning - too early to start the preparations for their next operation. He is not stupid enough to come to the weaponry before others. König will charge the first soldier he sees there with inventory control for the whole squad. And Nikto would sooner find out the color of his deaths eyes than take a part in that bullshit.

***

All the noises die as soon as familiar footsteps and a ‘good morning, Chimeras’ reach soldiers ears. Commander Zhar usually don't like to repeat twice when it comes to final debriefing.

“Our intel stays confirmed: the East group is preparing five containers of illicit arms and chemicals. The trade is going to take place at the former Vyshera base. Neither of the trading parties awaits major problems, they want things to go smooth and nice. And I want their toys. Not a half of them, like the last time, mind you!” Olga looks her soldiers in the eyes, making sure, they get her message. “Every last one of their containers belongs to Chimera. And we are to deliver these news.”

While others are boarding on a plane, Zhar slows down near Nikolai. One pair of concerned glances shared is louder than any words. 

“If KorTac steps in - extract people and-” She tries to talk fast enough to end the phrase, but Nik still cuts her out.

“I am not letting you fight a bloody army alone, Olga.” 

“And I am giving them neither my people nor my catch. I accepted your job offer on one condition…” the first notes of anger appear in her voice.

“I know, I know. You work for me as long as I don't hold you back.” Nik holds up his hands in a surrounding gesture. “But I don't want you to fight every day as if there was no tomorrow, ok? I want you around in a week and a month after that, and years after.”

Zhar shakes her head and takes a step past Nik, but he catches her shoulder. 

“You didn't survive that hell only to die here, soldier. Not as long as I'm in charge. If things go south - I'm waiting for you to return, or I'm dragging you back with my own hands.”

***

Nikto is waiting patiently until the Colonel recalls his existence, but König keeps assigning other soldiers to comb through different parts of the Vyshera base, ignoring him. Nikto follows them with his gaze and huffs each time, when someone gets an especially ‘hot’ piece of base. He wishes, it was him descending to the pitch black suffocating hell of the cellars, or facing a bloody chopper, these Chimera bastards brought with them. 

He would never admit it, not even before the Firebrand, his best friend. But Nikto is tired. So tired, he wishes, this was his last mission ever. He wouldn't betray his company, he would fight tooth and nail for them until the very end. It is only that now, something deep inside him craves this very end to come sooner.

Still, he gets nothing. Not even a walk around the base. Nikto throws an angry gaze at his boss, but remains silent as yet another soldier leaves their transport. Time flows so slowly, that he barely holds back a big yawn. 

“Nikto? How's your leg?” For the first time König addresses to him.

His leg? Damn, he got shot weeks ago, and Colonel still worries about it? Pathetic. Nikto is a bloody animal - one scratching bullet is not enough to throw him away from the fight. He springs up on his two and takes his gun out.

“Tell me, whose head you want, boss.” 

***

The air around him smells like smoke and blood, a metallic taste tingles on his tongue, as he waits for the right moment to strike. Sounds of a huge fight echo in every corner of an old base. Nikto located a group of mercs, securing the area around the container and set the traps on their possible way out nicely. All that is left is to nudge them, send these idiots running in the right direction. 

His anticipation is overshadowed by a subtle figure circling the perimeter around the container. This one seems like their executive, since the others keep reporting to them. Nikto tried to take a better look at that person, but they evaded any open sight as soon as he took his binoculars.

“Two mafia groups, god knows, how many merc teams fighting for a juicy bone… and then there's you, little shit, hiding from Nikto?” He mumbles to himself, as he's used to. The subtle figure freezes for a moment and looks up, right at the gap between two dilapidated walls, where Nikto is waiting. It's impossible to notice him from that far with all the smoke and dust dancing between them. It should be impossible, isn't it? 

He doesn't see their eyes, but a single feeling of their gaze finding him, taking a hold of his figure, sends shivers down his body. Nikto recoils and presses his back to a far wall, hiding from their sight. He takes a deep breath and lets his nerves settle.

“Just seeing shit. They would see. Wouldn't see it coming.”

Nikto spends not more than a few minutes away from his watching post. But when he returns - an angry hiss leaves his chest.

His enemies were leaving. Not in the direction, he planned for them to leave. And the worst part - that little shit stood alone in the middle of a now empty space, looking in his direction.

“You will regret this, poor bastard.” Niktos voice drops low as he turns back and jumps down the rubble, starting his hunt. “You will die slowly!”

When he first reaches his enemy - Nikto is already determined to not shoot them. Oh no, he wants their agony, their tears. He wants them to see their own guts, before they go. So he opts from a gun to a knife. 

His opponent fires a few rounds in his direction. Not so much to actually harm him - it feels, as if they just try to keep Nikto at a distance. Still, he pursues his target with relentless determination. The smaller figure, agile as a wisp of smoke, darts and weaves through the carnage, evading his every attempt to seize them.

The chase felt good, it felt intoxicating. So much so, that Nikto didn't notice how they ran to the edge of the collapsed floor. 

A burning void of acrid smoke stretches a few meters wide forward, an opposite crumbling edge of the floor is barely visible. A primal fear grips Niktos heart for a fleeting moment, a familiar voice screeching ‘stop right now’. 

Nikto doesn't stop - just slows down for a mere moment. Yet that is enough. Before he could react, his enemy leaps forward, gracefully hurdling through the black smoky veil with an inhuman determination.

For a moment, Nikto stands frozen in disbelief, his gaze locked on the figure who dared to confront the hungry void without flinching. And then, as if sensing his hesitation, the subtle figure turns to face him.

“So eager to die. Oh, we shall deliver then,” Nikto smirks.

Without a second thought, he lunges forward, his movements fueled by a surge of adrenaline. And that's when he sees the eyes of his death. 

She has an intense gaze, a sharp one, like a bird of prey. And her eyes paralyze him. The only thing, that was left is to knock her off her feet. But somehow, and Nikto woulds be ever able to explain this, he ends up under her, his own knife pressed against his carotid.

“She is going to kill us.”

“She is.”

“Kill us all.”

But the woman doesn't press the cold steel of his knife further. Her eyes roam down his uniform, until they freeze. She curses through her teeth and presses her knee against his chest, making it almost impossible for him to breathe. 

Nikto flinches, his gaze unfocuses and his body stops fighting her. He just watches her, while she opens his holster.

“She's going to kill us.”

“Quiet.” Nikto realizes, he said it out loud, when she answered him.

“She's… she's going… we know, we know, we see it in her eyes. She has our death's eyes.”

She ignores his haste whispers and cocks his pistol right next to his jaw. They say, one sees their whole life at such a moment. Every major event of his life should appear before his eyes. But everything Nikto sees is his death's green eyes. And somehow, he is not afraid to die. If this is how he goes - so be it. He is not disappointed, that there was no big fight for life. After all, he lived so many lives simultaneously and each one of them seemed to be too shitty to fight for. 

“Kill us. Kill every single one.”

The sound of a gunshot deafens him. 

***

“It hurts?” Sasha touches his skin, bringing a comforting chill to a darkening stripe on his swollen neck.

Nikto slowly shakes his head, not looking away from the ceiling. He can't bring himself to look at her. His ears are still ringing, his head keeps spinning, as if he hasn't brought a whole day in the medbay at the KorTac base.

What happened there? Why didn't that soldier kill him? He would in her place. Hell, he would do it in his own place… Only he didn't. Nikto failed. 

“Let me help you forget this.” Sasha reaches out to his palm to bring it to her heart as she usually does, but Nikto pulls his hand away.

“Don't.” He should have added ‘please’ to not sound this intimidating, but his breath catches in the throat, when he recalls another touch to his hands. 

It was soft, carrying. He remembers screaming at his enemy when she tried to take off his mask, so she opted to taking off his gloves. He was still shouting when she started massaging his bare hands, repeating ‘shhh, listen to me, big guy, just stay quiet, and I will get you out of here, ok? I'm not going to hurt you.’

This felt so terribly wrong. She wasn't supposed to be a person - just a target, another line in his mission report. But somehow she cooed all the voices in his head to sleep. She silenced all the sounds around him.

“Why?” Sasha sounds confused. Just a few days ago everything was well and there was nothing that could possibly break Nikto. 

He doesn't know, how to respond. He doesn't even notice, how the girl leaves him alone in a room. His many voices slowly come back to life, offering him one answer after another.

“Because her touch simply exists”?

“Because she held my life, when I surrendered it, and chose to give it back just like that”?

“Because I looked my death in her eyes. They are green.”

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

I’m now halfway through The Magnus Archives’ 1st season, so I thought it would be cool to just post my thoughts on each episode so far :). (Spoilers, I like all of them, and this podcast is going to be all I care about for a while.) Also NO SPOILERS PLEASE!!!

Link to Masterpost (contains all of these thought posts)

- Episode 1, Anglerfish 🚬

Statement of Nathan Watts, regarding an encounter on Old Fishmarket Close, Edinburgh.

Really strong start, not the scariest episode so far but definitely unnerving, and it gives a good first impression and layer of intrigue. While the story is simple in comparison to the later ones, it was still enjoyable, and I was just appreciating the atmosphere and framing device of the episode as well.

- Episode 2, Do Not Open ⚰️

Statement of Joshua Gillespie, regarding his time in the possession of an apparently empty wooden casket.

This is still one of my favorites. The whole time I was on edge, and this was the first episode that really kept me up at night. I went from wanting to know what was inside the coffin desperately, to wanting to stay away from it as much as possible. Joshua’s insuring dread and creative solution to his problems was fantastic, and it ends with some intriguing plot threads being set up.

- Episode 3, Across The Street 📓

Statement of Amy Patel, regarding the alleged disappearance of her acquaintance Graham Folger.

I think I share a common sentiment when I say that Amy stalking Graham was almost as creepy as the actual horror lmao. Overall I don’t have that much to say about this one, but it was very enjoyable, and I feel really bad for Graham in retrospect :(.

- Episode 4, Pageturner 📕

Statement of Dominic Swain, regarding a book briefly in his possession in the winter of 2012.

I…feel like I should hold off on talking about this one for now. While it was definitely well written and creepy, it just seems to be so full of setup for future plot lines that I almost don’t feel like I can form a concise opinion on it until I really get what’s going on. Honestly, my only complaint with this episode is that maybe it’s setting up TOO much in one go, but I still had a good time with it overall.

- Episode 5, Thrown Away 🗑️

Statement of Kieran Woodward, regarding items recovered from the refuse of 93 Lancaster Road, Walthamstowe.

This one actually did a pretty good job at getting me to think about waste disposal workers lmao, I never really thought about them like that before. This one was just really creepy, but also kind of fun in a weird twisted way. It did a great job keeping me on edge as well.

- Episode 6, Squirm 🪱

Statement of Timothy Hodge, regarding his sexual encounter with Harriet Lee and her subsequent death.

I am simultaneously horrified, and unfortunately aroused by what happened here.

- Episode 7, The Piper 🔫

Statement of Staff Sgt. Clarence Berry, regarding his time serving with Wilfred Owen in the Great War.

Having an episode set nearly 100 years ago is a really fun idea, and it’s executed perfectly here. It was interesting how it also featured a real person, and I liked how the paranormal activity felt more metaphorical here, it really did feel like it was showcasing the horror of war.

- Episode 8, Burned Out 🌳

Statement of Ivo Lensik, regarding his experiences during the construction of a house on Hill Top Road, Oxford.

I found this one to be very nerve-wracking, since not only was the whole scenario with the tree just, like…three creepy things happening at once, but the fact that the statement was given by someone with schizophrenia did a good job making me question it’s validity, even though I’m certain it’s true after listening to a later statement. I also hope that I get to see how the history of the house is unveiled in the future.

- Episode 9, A Father’s Love 💡

Statement of Julia Montauk, regarding the actions and motivations of her father, the serial killer Robert Montauk.

This one made me feel really sad :(. I really felt Julia’s despair in this one (Jonathan Sims does such great voice acting for every statement btw, both the character and the actual person), and I was even more saddened by the implications of why Robert did what he did. If my assumptions are correct, then…SCREW THE MOTHER! It was also the first one that got me thinking about where exactly all of the paranormal stuff comes from, and later episodes only add to my theory that it’s all due to demons/cults/higher powers.

- Episode 10, Vampire Killer 🧛🏻

Statement of Trevor Herbert, regarding his life as a self-proclaimed vampire hunter.

Much like Episode 8, this one did a really good job at making me question the validity of the statement, although I became more sure of its truth a bit earlier. I also just love how nonchalant Trevor comes off as, compared to all of the other traumatized horror victims. (Also, I’m guessing that the name Trevor and the episode title are meant to be a Castlevania reference?) While vampires aren’t the most creative thing for an episode, at least in comparison to everything else, the beast-like execution here more than made up for it in my opinion.

- Episode 11, Dreamer 💭

Statement of Antonio Blake, regarding his recent dreams about Gertrude Robinson, previous Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

Yeah…Gertrude Robinson did not die a normal death. My guess is that she was caught by ✨the horrors✨, but I’ll wait and see. This was another very tense episode, with the prophetic dream world being really, REALLY creepy. I do hope we get to see more of “Antonio” in the future, as I think he could be quite important. (I also hope he gets punched for DUMPING GRAHAM IN HIS TIME OF NEED-)

- Episode 12, First Aid 🏥

Statement of Lesere Saraki, regarding a recent night-shift at St. Thomas Hospital, London.

OMG GERARD KEAY HI HI HI HI HOW ARE YOU!!! Yeah I audibly gasped when he showed up again, it was such a cool moment. Anyways, hospitals already creep me the fuck out so this was pretty effective. Definitely some great setup here, and it helped to make a bit more sense of Pageturner, now that I have a better idea of what Gerard’s whole deal is. It also added some good fuel to the whole cult idea, and my god this poor nurse. Having to deal with all of this in a single night sounds like hell.

- Episode 13, Alone 🌫️

Statement of Naomi Herne, regarding the events following the funeral of her fiancé, Evan Lukas. Statement taken direct from subject.

Having a new voice in this episode was really cool, and Katie Davison did an excellent job as Naomi! It was also cool to see how Jon interacts with other people, he was…nicer than expected. This episode honestly felt like it was calling me out, as I am also someone who’s confident in my independence, but if I was in Naomi’s place I would also probably be scared shitless. I really hope she’ll get a happy ending :(. Also, The Lukas family is quite intriguing, especially since we now know they have a connection to The Institute…

- Episode 14, Piecemeal 👆

Statement of Lee Rentoul, regarding the murder of his associate Paul Noriega.

Firstly, this is probably my favorite of Jon’s vocal deliveries. His performance of Lee Rentoul just feels perfect. (Once again, this applies to both the writer and the character, I’m genuinely convinced the latter is an ex-theatre kid.) Outside of that, THIS ONE CREEPED ME OUT. The body horror was very effective, with the only thing holding it back being the fact that Lee isn’t the most likable protagonist in the podcast, but if this happened to someone else I’d be even more upset. Still though, it was a very creative concept, and the whole vibe and execution of the episode made it great.

- Episode 15, Lost Johns’ Cave 🕯️

Statement of Laura Popham, regarding her experience exploring the Three Counties System of caves with her sister Alena Sanderson.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fu-

- Episode 16, Arachnophobia 🕷️

Statement of Carlos Vittery, regarding his arachnophobia and its manifestations.

The way they tackled the concept in the title was really well done. Arachnophobia is seen as an irrational fear by a lot of people, so having it portrayed as an effect of childhood trauma was a good call. And as someone who is not arachnophobic, this episode got me close to feeling that way. What ever force was making Carlos relive his trauma is a sick fuck. Also the cat was a real one, glad he survived the whole situation. (Also THE WORMS, HOLY SHIT IT’S THE SEX WORMS!!!)

- Episode 17, The Boneturner’s Tale 🦴

Statement of Sebastian Adekoya, regarding a new acquisition at Chiswick Library.

This episode really compelled me to get out the rubber bands connecting images lmao. I really liked all of the connections to past statements here, like the presence of another book from the library of Jurgen Leitner, to the mention of Micheal Crew. The body horror here was once again very creepy, (outside of the flat rat, that was morbidly funny), but my favorite part of the episode was the introduction of Elias, which was a humorous, but also very intriguing scene. Also, the themes of books containing power was great as well. Great stuff all around.

- Episode 18, The Man Upstairs 🥩

Statement of Christof Rudenko, regarding his interactions with a first floor resident of Welbeck House, Wandsworth.

…ew. Ok in all seriousness, this is probably my least favorite episode so far. Still very far from bad, but after all of the extremely interesting themes and plot threads, having an episode where the idea was just “What if a guy had a house covered in meat? Wouldn’t that be fucked up?”, felt just a little bit underwhelming. Which like, the fact that my least favorite episode’s biggest problem is that I find it slightly pales in comparison to previous ones is just a testament to how much I’ve been enjoying the podcast. Still though, there were definitely a few things I really liked. The reveal of the room was creepy (especially considering the meat that seemed…alive…), and as someone who has had to deal with upstairs neighbors making noise for hours during construction, this episode definitely scared me.

- Episode 19, Confession, and Episode 20, Desecrated Host ✝️

Statement of Father Edwin Burroughs, regarding his claimed demonic possession.

This, alongside Lost Johns’ Cave, was one (or I guess, two…) of those episodes that seriously fucked me up. While I am not religious, I have always had fears of how religion can negatively affect me and the people around me, despite the good that it seems to do for so many people. So seeing Edwin be charged for every “sin” he committed by a higher power that wishes to steal its faith, and then not get judged by it, but by the people around him for his one true sin, was absolutely haunting, and I hope he turns out ok in the end. Outside of the horror, the episodes were fantastic. Listening to the events of Episode 8 from Edwin’s perspective, and seeing how Ivo’s actions saved him, was really cool, and solidifies in my mind that Ivo’s experience was real. The connections to demonic magic and Latin script thickened, and it was overall just a great mid-season finale. In conclusion, I hope that Martin feels better soon, and if he isn’t actually sick and is being plagued by ✨the horrors✨, well then I hope he survives :).

Thank you for reading my silly little thoughts if you’ve made it this far, it really means a lot to me :). I’ll probably update this every time I finish half of a season, so hopefully my thoughts on episodes 21-40 will be here in the Reblogs soon. :)

[wibixthecowboy]

Play the Song: Chapter 12: As we Breathe

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, choking, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV  

A/N: I know what you all want and I am here to give it to you. Enjoy my two, severely emotionally underdeveloped loves interacting in (somewhat) non-deadly scenarios. 

Words: 6.7k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Tag list: @urfavsunkissedleo @butskii @abbiesxox @itsasecrets-things @thatonewriterthatnooneknows @copiasratscheese​ @Sheviro-blog

★Flash

     “Will you just take the fucking applesauce?” Gaz’s voice is bordering a whine and Flash doesn’t feel the least bit guilty when she declines again. She is hungry, but her hunger doesn’t outweigh her need for entertainment. For something other than the dusty novel she’d snatched from Price weeks ago and the small window to her left.

For the last three days, she’s been stuck in her bed. Her only solace being short trips to the bathroom and the horrible nurse service being provided in shifts by Soap and Gaz. Both arrive either so guilt ridden or angry that their conversations are reduced to mumbled words.

After she’d passed out in the truck- passed out, not died, (a correction she’s had to make every time Soap decides to give her another rundown of what he likes to call her ‘Rick Grimes’ moment) the team was able to stop enough of the bleeding and get her to the nearest med bay before her heart stopped pumping.

She’d been kept sedated for the next four days, lulled into a hazy half conscious state by a concoction of epinephrine, morphine, and god knows what else. The magic drug- a more advanced and highly addictive form of a stim shot, had practically healed everything. By the third night, she’d been able to lay on her back without pain, and by the fourth, her injuries were reduced to bruising and two half healed and itching cuts on her shoulder blades and forehead. When the doctors had given her the order to ‘take it easy’ and ‘stay in bed for a few more days’ she’d nearly laughed in their faces. But after an awkward ride back to the base with Price, it was made clear that she’d be on her ass until the doctors cleared her.

Since then, she’s been rotting away in bed. With the fog of a rather severe concussion gone and only a slight wobble in her step, Flash felt confident enough to get back into training. Others, not so much.

“Stop coddling me and I just might.” Her words, although bitter, are spoken through a half smile. The joints of her legs ache with the need to move. She can’t remember the last time she’d gone longer than a day without some sort of physical exercise.

“Oh for fucks sake. Just take it.” Gaz lets out a frustrated groan and tosses the container and spoon at her blanketed legs. They land just shy of the unread paperback by her shin. A copy of ‘True Grit’ that Price had silently handed to her after she’d begged him to let her join their next raid. “Maybe Ghost will spoon feed it to you if you ask nicely enough.”

His hand freezes against the door handle and Flash’s eyes widen. That was the first Ghost had been mentioned since the incident. After his freak out. No one had spoken to her about it, so she didn’t bring it up. Other than foggy memories of him sleeping in a chair next to her bed at the med bay- his head lolled to the side in a way that made her knees weak. Ghost had been absent.

“Just eat the food.” Gaz says nothing more before slipping from her room and shutting the door gently behind him.

Guilt coils her stomach into a tight knot and the game that she’d been playing for the last few days loses its appeal.

The applesauce is dull and pasty, and when she swallows, it sticks in her throat like mud. The first night she’d woken up from her drugged sleep, she willed her memory to clear, to give her a picture of Ghost’s face that wasn’t blurred with tears and blood loss. But it was useless. After that, avoiding thinking about the last few moments in the truck had been easy. Until now.

Although every sense of hers had been compromised, her brain had no problem recalling every point of contact that Ghost had made. As if her body remembering the gentle way he held her hand against his cheek was more important than remembering to breathe. As if it still is. The healing drugs didn’t touch the burns left by his desperate hands.

The scraping of her spoon against the nearly empty plastic cup does nothing to drown out the now crashing waves of memories. Him grasping at her legs and shoulders to haul her to the truck, begging her to keep her eyes open, removing his mask. The last bite of her applesauce tastes of brine and copper and it gags her. When she coughs the skin of her hand comes back splattered with shining red. Stumbling to the bathroom, Flash drops to the blessedly cool tile in front of the toilet but the food weighs heavily in her stomach, refusing to move despite the foul taste in her mouth. When she looks down there’s a splatter of pureed apple across her right hand where the blood stained just moments ago.

Avoiding her two mirrors, Flash rinses her hands, ties her hair back, and changes her clothes for the first time in three days. She needs out, and god help anyone who tries to stop her.

_____

     The hot Las Almas sun burns the sensitive skin of Flash’s scabbed and stitched shoulders and sends a steady stream of sweat gliding down her spine that drops to the dusty dirt road just a few minutes from their base. She’d found it while stalking Ghost on one of his runs after a dull morning of training. Now it serves as the perfect place for her to slip away unnoticed and run until her feet bleed.

She’d been going for about an hour already, entranced by the steady thump of her braid against her back as she let the hot afternoon sun dry the waves that so violently threatened to pull her under. An angry, clouding storm of failure covers every expanse of her mind. She’d failed the one chance she’d been given. Price had finally given her an in, a way to prove what she’d so desperately been trying to show them, and she’d blown it in less than an hour.

A familiar crunch of tires sounds from behind her and she moves to the edge of the rough dirt road, giving the truck room to pass, but it slows to match her pace. When she glances over, she nearly stumbles on a loose stone. Ghost is sat in the driver's seat, one arm steering at the base of the wheel and the other holding a bottle of water out the window.

“You don’t have to say anything, just take the water and I’ll leave.” His voice is withdrawn, quiet in a way that tells Flash that he understands her need for silence. And when she takes the bottle from his bare hand, the faded scars only prove her right.

He watches her drink and she pretends not to notice as the water wets her parched mouth and throat. When she finishes that one, he gently pulls it from her grasp and another is pressed into her empty hand. Flash sips this time, breathing deeply between swallows, catching the breath she hadn’t noticed she’d lost. His gaze falls to her shaking knees and the shivering of her strained thighs and she waits for him to admonish her, to order her back to the base and put a padlock on the door this time, but he only turns away to set the empty bottle somewhere in the back seat.

“Do you want to drive with me?”

The question catches her off guard. The softness with which its spoken, still detached and hesitant but sentimental nonetheless. She opens her mouth to deny, admit that she’s ran this far to be alone, but the aching in her chest tugs towards him like a magnet.

Silently, she rounds the car, slides into the passenger seat, and Ghost continues driving wordlessly down the path, at a leisurely unhurried speed. With the windows down, the hair that had fallen from her braid flutters around her face in the light wind, tickling the bare and damp skin of her neck. She licks the dry skin of her lips and tastes the salt beaded at the bow of her mouth.

The slow roll of sand dunes calms the racing of her heart and she syncs her breathing to their soft shapes, in with the incline and out with the descent. Her sweat slick legs stick uncomfortably to the warm leather seat but the relief of resting her strained muscles surpasses the discomfort.

Flash closes her eyes against the bright setting sun, oranges and yellows shine brightly in the sudden darkness and the knot in her stomach loosens enough that she can fill her lungs completely. Fresh air, spun with the sappy golden light spilling across the desert blows across her face and cools the twin trails trickling over the curves of her cheeks. Salt spreads across her tongue, but this time it carries something much heavier. They come faster now, rivulets running and turning into streams that course over her chin and down her neck, bleeding into the sweat soaked collar of her shirt. She doesn’t open her eyes as the crushing weight of the fear she’d felt sets in. So she cries. She cries for what could have happened, what would have happened if she hadn’t pulled herself from the water, and hates every second of it.

Then a warm hand is nudging her own. Ghost, in a silent mimic of her gesture from days before, wraps his smallest finger around her own and squeezes. The fear lessens, pulling back to a dull throb against her ribcage. She doesn’t open her eyes as she unwraps their pinkies and slides her hand into his to lock their fingers in a tight hold. His hand envelops her own, warm and comforting, and she fastens herself to him like a tether to a dock. Afraid that if she lets go she just might drift out of reach.

They say nothing as they cling to each other, and Flash doesn’t dare turn her now open eyes to Ghost, afraid that she’ll snap their tether by acknowledging it. So she keeps her gaze on the pinks and purples sprawled across the dimming sky and tries to ignore the burning disappointment when one final turn brings the familiar concrete building into view.

“Can we do one more loop, I can’t- I-” She begins to ask, faltering when Ghost obliges without hesitation. And a burning sense of endearment spreads so quickly through her that the stinging behind her eyes recedes. Blinking away the thick tears still lining her lids, Flash sniffs once and then sags further into her seat.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His question is a formal invitation, an obligated question. One she’s been asked on multiple occasions and refused each time. She could ignore it now and it wouldn’t be brought back up, she knows that for a fact. But whether it's the burning need to confess or the lack of social interaction, Flash feels the confession loose from her mouth in a stream that she can’t seem to stop.

“I killed him with a rock.” Even though the words are spoken by her, the depravity of the statement makes her heart stutter. “When I missed with my knife I just smashed his head in with a rock.” The memory flashes through her mind, a stunted and bloody reel of pictures. “It was too easy.”

A long stretch of silence fills the space between them and Flash can’t help but worry he’ll slam on the breaks and shove her out, tell her just how damaged she must be to resort to something so animalistic, so beyond human norm. The weight of his hand in hers grows cold and she has the sudden urge to tuck herself into the small space at her feet, away from the heavy words floating between them and the piercing blue eyes at her side.

“When you know someone coming to kill you Flash, everything turns primal. It’s not something you learn through lectures. I’m sorry you had to learn so quickly.” His words are like a balm to her nerves. Petting back the raised hackles of her mind. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“It’s the SAS Ghost. Things happen. I won't always have someone there to save the day.” She speaks firmly but turns to Ghost with a sad smile, the action has the dried tracks of her tears itching. When she brings her empty hand up to wipe her cheeks, the dirt lining her fingers has her squeezing it back under her thigh.

He lapses back into his familiar silence and Flash tries not to think about the dirt wiping from her hand onto his own clean skin where their palms meet. Then becomes increasingly aware of the dust clinging to her thighs and arms and how it rubs off onto the dark surfaces of the truck. Ghost doesn’t say anything. His unoccupied hand taps lightly against the steering wheel, another quirk that Flash quickly learned meant he was picking his words carefully.

“Knowing something is going to happen doesn’t make it any easier to cope with.” The tires crunch as dirt turns into gravel, they’re just minutes away from the base now.

His words, although validating in their own way, crack open a spot in her steeled mind that she is nowhere near ready to unravel. So instead of responding, she closes her eyes and lays back against the seat, focusing on holding the now cool night air in her lungs. She grips Ghost’s hand steadfastly. When they pull into the lot this time, her mind feels clearer and when she releases his hand to go inside, she feels a little less broken.

_____

★Ghost

     Although her eyes are focused on Price, taking in every word he speaks with an endearing efficiency, Ghost still watches them. Searching for the voided, lost look that most recruits adopted after their first incident. The look that he’d seen hints of while driving with her hours before. But the blue remains sharp as they scan the layout of the next warehouse they’d be raiding. A dilapidated barn just a few miles from Alejandro’s ranch. They would leave tomorrow to spend the next two days planning their approach with Alejandro and his team. His bag, packed the moment he got back from their drive, waits next to his door. It was his desperate attempt to keep himself in his room. To keep himself busy so he didn’t cross through the bathroom and to Flash’s door to press his ear against the wood. Just to make sure she was still there, still breathing.

It was easy to brush off at first. The shaking was from strained muscles and elevated heart rate from his morning jog. But that day, when she’d come over the hill looking half dead, still clutching a bloodied rock, the fear, and dread that gagged him was undeniable. The anxiety that shook his experienced hands as he attempted to wrap unwilling bandages over a seemingly unending expanse of flowing blood was beyond uncharacteristic. Soap had taken the gauze from his hands and shoved him to the side, working with Gaz to stop the bleeding. Her clouded, half-lidded gaze had sent him into a shaking, gasping sort of fit and it was Soap who had ripped the pill bottle from Ghost’s pocket and shoved two of the pills into his palm with shaking, bloodied hands before returning to monitoring Flash’s heart rate.

After getting her to the med bay and stabilized, he’d remained at her side for the entire stay. The gentle flutter of her eyelashes was his only respite as she drifted in and out of a drugged sleep. The only time he left her side was to slip into the staff bathroom and to down another cup of the never-ending supply of dirt instant coffee the front office kept. Price had ordered him back to the base hours before she was to be taken off the sedative. It was a short exchange over the phone, gruff, tired, and ending in a snapped command.

When Price returned with her that night, Ghost had been waiting in the window. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, but when he saw the way Price had to practically lift her from the passenger seat and brace her as she limped to the door, he’d retreated back to his room, unable to look at the bandages at her temple, ones he wasn’t capable of tying. Instead choosing to curl against his headboard and choke on uneven breaths until a drug haze pulled him under.

Looking at her now, nothing like the small girl, pale skinned and drowned in hospital blankets, the beating of his heart doesn’t slow. Soap, next to him, is doodling small flowers on the mission summary and Gaz sitting beside Flash, is tugging at her sleeve. After one particularly harsh tug, she whips around in her chair and levels him with a harsh glare, when she goes to turn back, her eyes catch his. The irritation melts from her brow and Ghost struggles to keep his breath steady when his gaze drops to the blue-green bruise that still curves along her cheekbone. Flash catches his line of sight and lets the hair tucked behind her ear fall into her face, covering the bruising entirely when she turns back to Price. But the image remains, permanently branded against the large corner of his mind she’s always occupying.

They go on like that for the rest of the meeting. Eyes occasionally meeting only to hover for a moment before flitting away. Acting like he hadn’t just watched her shatter in the small cab of his truck an hour before. He knew better than to push though, the need to just forget was more familiar to him than it should be. So he watches her take notes instead, careful little words in the spaces between paragraphs with a pencil he now recognizes as his own. Stolen from the space next to his paper, he hadn’t even noticed. And despite everything, amusement flickers in his chest, and a familiar warmth tightens his ribs. Ghost dips his head down to level his eyes with Flash, glancing at the pencil in her hands and up to her waiting gaze. She smiles at him. It’s half done, morphed into a slight grimace from the split in her lip, but it still carries her usual air of mischief. And he thinks that maybe, things might be okay.

_____

★Flash

     Flash is brushing her teeth when she sees Ghost again. Her hair still damp and curling from the shower she’d taken to scrub the dried sweat and dust from her skin. She’d also braved a look in the mirror. A small blue-purple bruise curves along her skin between her cheekbone and eye, a half healed split at her lower lip, and a stitched line at her temple were all that remained of her encounter. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but better than she’d been expecting. Her shower though, had run out of her allotted bathroom time and into Ghosts. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but when it did, he would politely apologize and leave her to finish.

But now, dressed in joggers and a delightfully worn shirt, he hovers in the open doorway. She wonders if he feels it. The pull.

He’s about to turn and leave when Flash finds herself mumbling through a mouthful of toothpaste, “Don’t leave I’m almost done.” She’s not quite sure why she asks him to stay, but she does.

Flash can’t help but smile at the way his socked feet shuffle awkwardly against the tile, not sure where to stand. It’s incredibly sweet, and the softness of the action only strengthens the pull that begs her to step forward and into him.

“So,” Flash starts, spitting her toothpaste into the sink before continuing to lazily brush in half circles, “do I get to see your face now? Or is that something you reserve for people who are near death?” In one smooth movement, she’s resting on the counter in front of him, hoping the toothbrush hanging from her lips hides the wince as her sore muscles strain. “Ya know, like a ‘I can show you but then I’d have to kill you’ type a’ situation?”

Ghost is silent, unresponsive to her prodding. Any other night he would have told her to drop it and go to bed. Maybe give her a snarky response if she’s lucky. But tonight he’s quiet, just as before. And then she sees it. The way his shoulders curve inward and the flickering of his eyes as they move to look at anything that isn’t her.

“You know it's not your fault right?” Flash’s voice is soft, the same one she’d use to coax a scared dog from a corner.

“What?” A whisper.

“It’s not your fault.” She slides from the counter, leaving her toothbrush next to the basin, she walks quietly towards him. Cautious, slow enough for him to back away, she reaches up to brush a hand against his face. It’s a daring move but he doesn’t pull away.

The cotton of the mask is warm from being so close to the heated skin of his cheeks. Golden lashes brush against them and their freckled surface as his lids shutter closed. Flash drinks in the rare moment of softness. Her mind drifts back to her last few moments in the truck, how warm the skin of his face had been and suddenly, she’s never wanted anything more in her life.

“Can I touch-” Her words breathe out into the empty space between them and Ghost’s eyes fly open, wide and searching her own.

“Blindfold, I - can you wear a blindfold?” His words are stuttered and rushed with a desperation she can’t even begin to understand. Flash offers him a silent nod and then the space in front of her is empty.

She lifts herself back onto the counter, just to busy herself as she listens to the opening of a drawer and the quiet whisper of him digging through clothes in his room. He returns with a beautifully patterned terracotta scarf. Like the one’s she’d seen at the market. He sets it gently in her lap but she pushes it back into his hands.

“Here, you can tie it. So you know I’m not peeking.”

He nods once before taking the brown fabric with shaking hands and folding it into a neat strip and leaning in close to wrap it gently around her eyes. Flash senses his hesitation as he pauses before tying the knot. Wary of the bruise beneath her eye. She gives her best reassuring smile and it seems to do the trick.

“Is that too tight?” He whispers and Flash shivers as his breath fans across her ear, light and warm.

“No. It’s perfect.”

There’s a gentle rustle of fabric and then his mask is resting on her lap. Nerves beat her heart up into her throat.

“Are you scared?” Her whisper is careful, spoken into the quiet space between them. A question spoken to him but a silent admission of her own.

“Yes.”

“It's only me.” She can’t help but smile at his honesty.

“That’s what I’m scared of.”

“Can I touch you?” She murmurs, and he hums a confirmation. It’s a quiet, broken noise.

A soft sigh breaks the silence when the pads of her searching fingers meet his cheek and draw upwards to a rather prominent cheekbone. She can’t help but smile at the heat she feels beneath her fingers, he’s blushing.

Quick breaths come from his nose, followed by two long exhales. Subtle enough that if she weren’t inches from his face would have gone unnoticed, but his warm breath falls against the small strip of her cheeks left uncovered by the scarf. Her heart swells in her chest when she realizes he’s attempting to calm himself.

“Why do you keep trying?”

His words catch her off guard and her exploring fingers come to a halt at his browbone. A displeased huff urges them on and to a soft brow. Flash takes a moment to think, but it doesn’t take her long to find a response.

“Because you deserve to heal.” Ghost turns his head into her hand, muffling a groan. It’s a noise unlike anything she’s ever heard before. An amalgamation of sadness and desperation that makes the blood in her veins slow to listen.

“Has no one ever told you that?”

“No.” He speaks into her palm, hiding his face as if she could see him through the scarf.

“Well, you do.” She smiles softly and flinches in surprise when his thumb brushes against the soft skin of her lower lip. He pulls back quickly,

“Sorry, I-”

“No, you’re fine.” Flash reaches down and grabs for his hand, bringing his thumb up to her lips again when she finds it. He takes a shuddering breath and she wishes for just a moment that she could pull the blindfold up from her eyes and look at him, see the way his body is reacting to her touch, rather than feeling, and hearing it.

“Your smile.” His thumb parts the plush of her lips, so gently she almost doesn’t feel it.

“What about it?” She can’t help but laugh at his odd remark.

His face under her hand moves, and a familiar divot forms under her ring finger.

“Oh good lord you have dimples?” She breathes against his hand.

“Just on the left.” His words are murmured, shy if she thought he was capable of such an innocent emotion. And in the warm darkness of the bathroom, without seeing the scars on his hands or the dazed look his eyes so often held, she realizes just how innocent he is. The boyish way he holds her face, similar to the way a child learning to write struggles to grip a pencil. Like the concept of touching someone without the intent of harm is as foreign to him as a new language. And the realization absolutely crushes her.

“Freckles, dimples, blue eyes. You must be a real stunner.” She teases, an awful attempt to fight the burning behind her eyes. The skin beneath her hand warms again and the overwhelming urge to throw herself into him is consuming, to wrap herself so tightly around him that their skin fuses and they become one. The thought is as terrifying as it is tempting.

“Far from it.”

She frowns at his words but the hand on her face smooths her brow in a gentle caress. Her next exhale comes shakily through her nose.

Braving the waters, Flash traces up the soft curve of his cheek and her fingers catch on slightly raised skin, silkier than the rest, a scar. It travels from his left cheekbone to his hairline just above his eyebrow.

“How did this happen?” Her imploring question is light and spoken without pressure. He could leave it unanswered if he wished.

“My father.” His response is quiet but it’s a scream to her ears. Images of him as a child, a defenseless teen screaming as he clutched his head in pain fill her mind in a rush. She quickly moves on. Feeling for more, battle-oriented scars, but she feels none.

“Do you have any more?”

A rumbling laugh vibrates down her arm and warms her chest.

“Plenty. Although the reconstructive surgeries helped, there’s always going to be a mark.”

“Where?”

A gentle hand reaches for hers and guides her fingers in an arc from the corner of his mouth to a point near his hairline. She traces the spot over on her own until she feels the slight change in texture, the jagged shape that whatever had cut him left behind. She didn’t dare ask its origin.

“Your scars make mine seem like papercuts.” A nervous laugh blows past her lips.

“And I hope it stays that way.” He glides warm fingers just inches from the stitches on her temple. “You already have enough.”

“Nothing near as cool as yours.” She protests, tracing his cheek once more to emphasize her point.

The room is silent, and for just a moment, she thinks she's ruined it and then he’s laughing again. Stuttered like he hasn’t had enough practice, and Flash wishes he’d never stop.

“What?” She asks, incredulous.

“I’ve never had someone call my scars cool.” The stuttered laughs come through his nose now, in gentle breaths of air that warm her own cheeks.

Another mostly nervous laugh looses from her parted lips at the absurdity of their situation. If someone told her a year ago, as she unabashedly stared at Ghost giving his lecture, that she’d be on the counter of their shared bathroom, blindfolded and committing his face to memory with her hands she’d probably laugh. And then file a report.

Flash smiles shyly before bringing her other hand up to gently cup his face, eager to change the topic. “Is this normal?” She breathes as he leans further into her, now pressing against the counter space between her legs. Heat radiates from him, warming her in a way she’s never felt before.

“Is what normal?”

“Wanting to touch you so badly my chest aches.” The admission makes her heart stutter in embarrassment and something warm and syrupy slows the muscles of her mouth.

“I don’t think so.” His answer is mumbled, and before she can feel the sting of rejection, he’s pressing his forehead to hers in an almost feline gesture.

Their lips are just inches away, all she’d have to do is tilt her head up and they’d be kissing. The thought sends her heart thumping so painfully that her stomach rolls with nerves. Enough that she just savors the closeness they have already.

“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She whispers to him with a nervous smile and instantly regrets it. There’s just something about his presence that loosens her tongue in ways it shouldn’t.

But then Ghost is laughing again and pressing his forehead harder against her own. “Me too.”

And the confession is orchestral.

Her arms reach from where they’re pinned between them and up into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A muffled moan is pressed into the skin of her neck so she does it again, a gentle scrape through his hair. Tremors wrack his body in waves. Then he’s pulling away and her hands are slipping from his shoulders too soon.

“Off the counter, face the mirror.” Although his voice is still soft and shaken, it’s demanding enough that Flash doesn’t protest. She feels him reach around her for something on the counter, muscled chest pressing close to her shoulder.

“I’m getting some deja vu.” Ghost’s murmur is quiet and entirely self-indulgent.

“To what?” Flash’s brows furrow in confusion under the soft silk.

“Well uh-” His words stumble out, unprepared. “That night you took that pill?”

Flash’s stomach sinks and her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth when she responds. “Uh-huh.”

“You were struggling a bit with cleaning the scratches. You couldn’t even hold the cloth.”

“Oh god.” Even with the scarf on her face, Flash still has to drop her head in her hands. “I didn’t do anything weird? Did I?” She thinks back to the table that morning, Soap's laughing and Ghost's not so subtle smile.

“No.” Ghost runs a finger slick with a paste that she quickly recognizes as the salve the doctor had given her for sore joints over her skin. Far from the scratches and cuts on her shoulders. She practically purrs at his touch combined with the cooling effect of the paste. “But you’re very touchy.”

Embarrassment floods hot through her chest and she starts to apologize but Ghost interrupts her again.

“Don’t apologize.” Those fingers drift up and to an unblemished space just past her shoulder. “Just be quiet and let me make up for my mistake.”

“You don’t have to-” Her words end in a sharp moan when his fingers dig into a tender spot against her neck. “Holy shit.” His fingers fumble a bit but he regains his composure quickly, returning back to the spot and rubbing delightful small circles against the knot. “Jesus-” Her mumbling is cut off with a soft hush and she finally gives in, dropping her chin to the heated skin of her chest as he loosens the muscles that had grown stiff after days in bed. When he reaches a spot along the arch of her spine, smoothing deep half circles into the muscle there, a broken whine falls involuntarily from her mouth. It’s entirely pathetic but she’s too far gone to care. This last sound seems to signal him though and he’s stepping back, dropping those magic hands from her lower back.

“Okay.” His voice is breathy ghost of a whisper and despite never seeing his face, Flash knows that if she were to pull the blindfold from her eyes, he’d be shaking and casting his eyes to the floor, those precious strawberry blonde curls falling across his forehead, and cheeks ruddy with the warm blush she’d felt just minutes before. But she leaves it tied neatly against her damp hair, even though her fingers itch to slide the soft fabric from her eyes.

There’s a rustling, Ghost is reaching past her to grab something from the counter and she can practically smell the anxiety leaking from his skin, along with something else she hadn’t noticed until now.

“Is that citrus?” She tries not to sound too surprised, she shouldn’t be. It had been one of the first things she’d noticed when flopping herself onto his bedding. Something she did not want to think about.

“It’s uh- oranges?” He sounds unsure, Flash is about to point this out but he continues. “My mum wore it.” There’s another brief pause. She can practically hear his internal debate over whether or not he should continue. “It’s- It helps with- anxiety.”

“Oh.” She stands there for another moment, not wanting to leave quite yet, but not having anything to say. He doesn’t move either, just stands quietly in front of her. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

Gentle fingers slide the scarf from her eyes, the light of the bathroom is blinding and she has to blink several times to clear the dots from her vision. When her eyes finally focus, she cranes her head upward from the soft cotton of his chest. Ghost’s eyes are staring into the mirror above her, at himself. There’s a small strip of exposed skin between his shirt and balaclava. She can see the collarbone that she’d whispered to so many nights ago.

“I’m going to bed.” She says to the strip, and without looking back at his face, turns and walks as calmly as she can to her room. Even though the racing of her heart screams at her to run, to hide, to grab him by his stupid masked face and kiss him.

The last thought scares her enough that she shuts the bathroom door with a bit too much force. The sound makes her jump. It’s entirely pathetic but the creeping sickness from this morning is gone, replaced with something much much worse. Something deadly, something terrifying, something that makes her want to laugh and cry. So she does both.

It doesn’t help.

_____

     Flash can’t wipe the love-sick smile off her face as she walks to their small kitchen. Her water bottle swinging in time with her steps.

“He won’t always be like that.”

The metal bottle clangs loudly against the concrete when her hand slackens in surprise.

“What?” She breathes, heart beating wildly in her chest.

“I said, he won't always be like that.” Soap says from the small couch in the ‘living room’. He’s draped himself lazily over the arm and is flicking through an old copy of the ‘New Yorker’. A cartoonish drawing of pointing Uncle Sam is printed on the front under bold red letters reading ‘I WANT YOU’.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says calmly, swiping her bottle from the floor and continuing towards the sink, averting her eyes from the dramatic cartoon.

“Oh don’t play coy. You’re smiling like a fuckin’ teenager in love Lass. I know.” His tone isn’t accusing, if anything it's bored. Like he couldn’t be bothered to finish the conversation he’d started. “He’s true to his name. He’ll be kissing you like he needs you to breathe, and then the next mornin’ float right by you. Stings like a bitch. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“How do you know?” She asks over the flowing tap. “Did you two...” Her half question drifts, waiting for him to pick up. It takes the metal burning into her palm for Flash to realize the water is steaming, she tips the bottle over and starts again.

“Were we together?” He flips another page, casual, like he’s not admitting to fucking his best friend. “I guess you could call it that.”

“He wasn’t interested in that... stuff?” She thinks back to the way his hands trembled the first time he’d touched her, and the way he practically vibrates when their bodies come within inches of each other.

“No,” a devilish chuckle comes from behind the paper “we didn’t have trouble in that department.”

“So you were a thing?” She asks and is blindsided by a sudden burning in her chest. It curls around to tense the line of her shoulders, bringing them closer to her ears like raised hackles.

He finally lowers the magazine and shakes his head at her reaction. “No need to get possessive. It lasted about two months before he realized that fucking every ten minutes wouldn’t fix his shit load of issues.” His words immediately drench her in a cool wave, and an embarrassing guilt flushes high in her cheeks, along with a biting sympathy at his confession. “My feelings were unrequited, unfortunately.” He gives her a sad smile. “He needs someone who isn’t broken. He needs someone who can guide him out of the shit storm he’s been led into.” The magazine is flipped back open and brought back up, his tone turns curious. “Someone like you.”

She starts to deny, to tell him that she is far from unbroken, but Soap waves another hand at her.

“Don’t bother, I don’t care.” A plain lie. “I just wanted to warn you. He can be-” a pregnant pause splits his words, “he can be challenging. He’s got a cargo container of shit that he hasn’t even begun to unpack. It can lead to some pretty rough mood swings.” Soap puts the magazine back down. “What I’m trying to say is he’s a real piece of work, but if anyone deserves the help, it’s him. I just hope you’re the right person.”

Flash can hear the unspoken words ring through the air between them.

‘Because I wasn’t’

When Flash reaches Ghost’s door in the bathroom, away from the prying eyes still pretending to read the old magazine, she knocks softly, waits a few moments, and then knocks again. There’s no response.

He’s blocked himself off again.

Disappointed and trying not to think of Soap’s words, Flash slinks dejectedly back to lie in her bed. Her IPod still lay on her nightstand, nestled in the center of a neatly swirled nest of wires. Right where Ghost had put it her first night there.

Then for some reason, imagining him taking the time to do something so unimportant with so much care, for her no less, sends a wave of something nearing homesickness through her. A brittle sort of feeling. And for the first time in over five years, Flash has the urge to call her sister.

“This is not good.”

A/N: AHHH MY AWKWARD LITTLE BABIES. I hoped you loved this as much as I loved writing it. God I love unhinged relationships, they’re just *chefs kiss*.